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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

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bad ending!reader meets the white cat? it's been a while, they've settled into their routine as a specimen by now, but the cat reminds them of their humanity and acts as kind of a respite from all the axe murder

"So the darkness has consumed you..but what is darkness if not a long tunnel leading towards the light?"

"Poetic as ever, aren't we?" You sneered down at the pinkish white cat in front of you, hands curled tightly around the handle of your axe.

It was the very same weapon you used not only to break down boarded-up doors throughout the mansion, but also to put an end to Specimen 9's madness in the final room.

However, its usage didn't stop there.

Long before encountering that red fleshy monster, you've acquired the axe back in Specimen 8's section, using it for self-defense against the other specimen who relentlessly chased you down the halls.

It's what any sane person would do in a horror setting if they were given the means to fight back.

But the more time you've spent with it in your possession...something happened.

When a random Specimen 1 popped out at you after just barely escaping Ben with your life, you took all your frustration out on it as you swung the axe several times until it fell off the wall. You were sick of its stupid smiling face mocking your torment.

It may have been the most "passive" specimen, but it sure as hell was the most annoying, too.

And seeing the cardboard remains scattered around your feet brought a smile of relief to your face, before you carried on.

Later, when Specimen 2 showed his face once again, you immediately turned around and plunged the blade into his neck, effectively slicing his body in half after a bit of struggle. Although he could reform himself easily, it bought you enough time to flee to the next room.

He hasn't chased you since.

You didn't know if Spooky placed some enchanted curse on this axe or what, but one thing became very clear to you:

It's that you started to enjoy using it, as though it was meant for you to take all along...and not the hunter or any other victim from before.

You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't feel some degree of euphoria from slaughtering all those unusually violent deer like the savage animals they were.

How could Deer Lord reprimand you for harming his "children"? They were the ones who attack first! They provoked you! It was all just self-defense!!

Of course, you were wise enough to not swing it at everything and everyone to conserve your stamina...although the rage you felt whenever a specimen dared to come near you gave you all the adrenaline you needed to push on.

Even Babs--who couldn't be harmed by your blade--looked shocked when you charged at her and tried taking her down anyways, ignoring the hallucinations she was inflicting on your psyche.

She wondered why they weren't as effective on you as before..but you escaped her clutches once again.

The further you ventured beneath the mansion, the more belligerent you became, having finally lost it once you reached the thousandth room..

Only to be met with the false hope of escape, with Spooky officially introducing you to your final test:

Specimen 9, aka the Taker, who was dead set on not letting you leave here alive.

But the fight was mostly a blur. You barely registered the fireballs that seared your skin, the screaming pillars of his past victims' spirits, and the shadowy hands that tried dragging you under.

All you could remember was how you knocked him out of the sky, before hacking his body to pieces with a maniacal smile on your face, his blood splattering on every square inch of you.

The fun only ended after Spooky was forced to step in and take him away from you. He was still a specimen being studied, after all, so he had to be preserved.

But she wasn't mad at you one bit....far from that, in fact.

If anything, she was very impressed with how you've swung your axe around, both recklessly and with unmatched cruelty. She could see that you certainly weren't some boring ol' human looking to expose her mansion's secrets. Oh no.

This place has brought out your true nature, making you give into your instincts to kill, keep killing, and kill a little bit more....and overkill.

None of this, she observed, was out of survival anymore. You were simply sadistic now.

Spooky liked that, and so she offered you a place in the mansion as a specimen yourself. She remarked that everybody likes the "survivor turns into a monster" trope...and thinks you'll fit the role quite well.

Thus, you were designated as Specimen 14: The Axe Wielder.

You've lost track of time the moment you entered the mansion, but you've become very well-adjusted to your routine here. All you did was roam the underground maze and target any visitors under the guise of being a lost person yourself, luring them into a false sense of security...like you once have.

Your total fatality count was wracking up numbers quite fast.

As for the other specimen, well, they've seem to have forgiven and forgotten any of your past transgressions against them...although it's probably just because Spooky told them to. But regardless, you struck up some friendships with them fast.

But one day while you were aimlessly wandering, you winded up way back in one of Specimen 7's rooms...reencountering that stupid cat who tried acting like your therapist.

You never trusted her. How could you trust anything here in this hellish place?

"Tell me..what are you really?" You stared down at the feline, who swished her tail as the grandfather clock kept annoyingly ticking in the background. "Are you Spooky's dead cat?"

"I am the antithesis of the evil that dwells here. The guiding light in the darkest shadows. It's not too late to help you, but first you have to- "

"What good is your advice if I'm already gone?" Sneering, you readied your axe, growing more enraged by the second. "You deceived me..just like she did! You didn't tell me about Taker, or..or anything! So WHY would I listen to you?!!"

"...because I still see hope in you, Specimen 14." She spoke calmly, her optimistic tone not wavering a bit. "Or should I say...[y/n]."

For a moment, you tensed up, recollection flashing in your mind. You didn't know how she knew that name, but it meant nothing to you now.

"That name is dead to me....and so are YOU!!!" With a yell, you brought the blade down on her head--

But she vanished into thin air.

"Where are you?!" You snapped, eyes glowing red with fury as you searched the room, tearing open the nearest door in an attempt to find her.

However, you were greeted by a quaint office-like space. It looked quite cozy, with motivational posters plastered on the walls, wooden shelves lined with books and soft plushies, and a comfy couch right there in the middle of it all.

This was new. You've never seen this room before.

The little white cat was on the furniture, sitting like a loaf of bread with that pure smile adorning her face. "Come sit, why don't you? We both ought to be comfortable. A little respite is good for the mind, body, and soul."

You said nothing to that, but after a few long moments of hesitance...your legs started moving on their own. The axe's blade scraped the ground as you dragged it behind you, although she didn't seem bothered too much by the awful noise it made.

And you sat as far away from her as you could.

For about a minute or so, there was nothing but silence...save for the gently ticking clock from faraway. The axe's handle was still gripped tightly in your hand, as though it was attached to your own limb.

Then the white cat spoke up. "See? Isn't this much better than all the running around and endangering others surrounding you?"

"...for the record, they endangered me first." You corrected. "So let's get that straight. But...I'll admit my legs have been killing me lately.."

"So you do feel exhaustion and pain, that's good! Both of those and more are all of the human qualities tucked away within you." She chirped. "They're not gone, but simply asleep."

"........"

"This house of horrors has taken many things away from people, but the one thing it can't take from you is-"

"You don't even know half the horror I went through.." You growled. "Have you been to any room beyond the 400s? I don't think so...so just stop it. Whatever you're trying to do here isn't helping as much as you think it is. Maybe it could have before, but you're too late."

For once, she stayed silent, instead looking the other way and smiling at the poster.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and tried taking some deep breaths to calm yourself down.

It felt..strange not to be killing or breaking anything for once. For some reason you just didn't...feel like doing any of that right now.

This room was probably having another weird effect on you.

Then you suddenly felt the cushions shift in pressure and quickly looked over at the cat. She was standing up now, slowly creeping over to you. "What are you doing?" You eyed her warily. "Don't come near-"

However, you paused when she climbed into your lap and curled up right there and then. Then she gazed up at you, tilting her head in a cutesy way.

She was purring, too.

'Damn it...' As the glow faded from your eyes, you stared down at her for a few long seconds, before a bloodied hand came to rest on her back. Then you gently stroked her fur, hearing her purrs increase in volume.

It didn't take long for you to finally relax, letting go of the deathgrip you've kept on the axe since the moment you obtained it. You let it rest against the furniture--still in your sights, but no longer in your clutches.

Maybe you could stay here for a while.

#w request tbh #i love the white cat she's so kind and nice #clanask #anonymous #spooky's jumpscare mansion x reader #spooky's house of jumpscares x reader #sjm x reader #shojs x reader #angst #specimen 14

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blackmissfrizzle · 2 years

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Can I

Characters: Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

Summary: During another fun family dinner, Ransom’s new “job” is brought up.

Warnings: Smut, y’all know me by now.

A/N: Inspired by this TikTok

Here’s my masterlist if you want more!

Gif credit: @jamesbuchenan

Bickering surrounded you nonstop. That’s what happens when you have dinner with the Thrombeys. Meg better be happy, you were so bored that you decided to join this shit show. Just when you thought the arguing died down, one person would bring up a controversial topic and all it took was one differing opinion and it turn into a heated debate.

“Sorry, dear.” Harlan tapped your hand. “They just don’t know when to quit.”

You smiled at Harlan. He was the upside of this dinner. The older gentleman reminded you of your own grandfather you missed so much. He made these get togethers much more bearable. “It’s okay. This is fueling my social battery, so I won’t have to go out for a while.”

“Can I get one of those, darling?” Dazzling blue eyes winked at you.

There was one other perk you forgot to mention about Thrombey dinners. Ransom Drysdale. He made your heart and much more intimate parts flutter. Although, you would never do anything about that. You two were polar opposites. Him: brash, spoiled, spontaneous, lazy, uncouth, and extremely attractive. You: reserved, hardworking, people pleaser, and moderately attractive.

Meg swatted her cousin away. “Leave her alone! She does not need to be around your freakiness!”

Ransom leaned back and observed your body. Under that soft and innocent exterior, he knew there was a bad girl underneath. One day when you over, he peered over your shoulder and caught what you were reading on your kindle: a reverse harem. Ever since then his interest in you went up a hundred times more. Every time he saw you, he wondered what smutty book you were reading. He wondered if you touched yourself as you read them. He wondered if you fantasized about the scenes, and he wondered if you fantasized about reenacting them with him.

Leaning forward to invade Meg’s space, Ransom whispered. “Are you cockblocking because you’re trying to be a good friend or are you cockblocking because you’re a big lesbian SJW?”

Five minutes. That’s how long it lasted for the Thrombeys to get into another uproar. Joni and Meg were yelling at Ransom while he laughed, not caring about one word they were saying.

Tired of her cousin thinking he got the last laugh, Meg decided to pull out her trump card. “Yeah, like I would care what someone with an OnlyFans thinks of me.”

Everyone but Harlan, Ransom and his parents gasped. Ransom had an OnlyFans? Why? The dude had loads of money. Or his grandpa had loads of money and he had access to that.

Your eyes ping-ponged between Ransom and the rest of his family. Of course, Walt and his Great Value Trump family were appalled, but other than that no one else seemed horrified. Disappointed? Yes Horrified? No.

Ransom slowly smiled at his baby cousin like he was some sort of Bond villain. “First, how uncharacteristically conservative of you. Sex workers deserve the same respect as anyone else because sex work is work.” He quoted Meg from one of her many debates. “Secondly, you thought you did something, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Parentals and Harlan already know. The rest of you are insignificant, except,” he turned his head to you and kissed your hand. “For you.”

There would’ve been more attention paid to you if the rest of the family wouldn’t keep dragging him into conversation.

“Stop touching her! Who knows what STIs you have?” Meg tried her best to pull your heavy ass chair closer to her.

Doing his best Donna impression, Ransom gasped and clutched his invisible pearls. “Slut shaming is unacceptable. Not very SJW of you, so problematic.” He tsked.

Embarrassment gripped Linda enough. “No more talk about Ransom’s “job” at the dinner table.” This family was going to drive her to an early grave, she thought as she rubbed her forehead. “Ransom, I’ll talk to you about this later.”

“No, let’s talk about it, since my dear baby cousin attempted to air my so called dirty laundry.” Ransom leaned back and did the most glorious manspread.

“Fine, we’re all family here.”

“Mostly.” Jacob mumbled while he never looked away from his phone screen. Little jerk was probably retweeting Andrew Tate at the moment.

Of course, Meg couldn’t let the boy get away with the jab. Since, she was close to you and Marta, she decided to defend both of you. “When they visit grandpa more than you do, they are family.”

Jacob countered stating that Marta was just paid, and you were lonely and pathetic. Bitch wouldn’t be this vicious if you two weren’t the only POC at the table.

Before Meg could get a word in, Ransom tore Jacob to pieces. You swore you saw a little shimmer of a tear roll down the boy’s face. Ransom was able to put a chink in the dipshit’s armor.

Naturally, his parents didn’t appreciate the disrespect, not that Ransom cared about that. “Fuck you,” he pointed at Walt. “Fuck you,” he pointed at Donna. “And a big fuck you, you forever Nazi virgin.” Ransom pointed at Jacob.

The little bit of giggle he heard from you made him proud. He was happy he could elicit such a sound from you.

“Jesus, Ransom, can you stop for just one minute?” Linda wished her son grew up some.

Normally, he would give a smartass reply, but he really wanted to hear what his mother had to say. Ransom raised his hands in surrender and nodded his head as to say, ‘Go on.’

“Ransom,” she sighed, but her voice got louder and angrier with each word she said. “Apparently my girlfriend told me that you are taking your little fucked up OnlyFans photos in my bathroom. Is that true?”

From the tilt of his head and the little smirk, you knew it was true. Damn, maybe you should check them out. No! He’s Meg’s annoying older cousin. Your little debate was being interrupted by the back and forth between the mother and son.

“Shouldn’t it be a little more concerning that your friends paying to see your son’s cock?” He cocked an eyebrow at his mom.

“Ransom!”

You cover your mouth to hide your giggles and commentary. “He does have a point.”

Donna whipped her pointy face toward you. “Of course, you would watch something like that.”

Ransom tsked and wagged his finger. “You do not want to go there, Donna.”

“What are you talking about, Ransom?”

“Boredhousewife69?” He’s been waiting to release this nugget of information forever. “One of my top subscribers. Kinda creepy my aunt is watching me, but hey we’re family by marriage.” He winked and then left the table, pulling you with him and leaving the family in a disarray.

The two of you didn’t get very far. He just led you down the hall to the family room, that’s where Harlan stashes all the good liquor. “Thank you.” You whispered when he handed you a drink.

“It’s the polite thing to do. No matter how many times you’ve been here, you’re still a guest.” He shrugged and sat on the couch opposite of you. Man, he wishes he could draw. There was something about your beauty that needed to be advertised everywhere.

You rarely spoke to Ransom. It was even rarer for you two to be the only ones in a room. So, your voice was much more meek and softer. “Not for that. Sticking up for Marta and…me.”

Good deeds do get rewarded. Maybe he should do them more often. He was going to move closer to you, but his mom with his dad and Harlan following behind her.

Linda was going on about how he was embarrassing the family and needed to get a real job.

“Technically, it’s a real job.” You were curled up in the corner, too comfortable to move from this family moment.

“Huh? YN, how in the world is OnlyFans is a real job?” Linda valued your opinion. You had a good head on your shoulders unlike the people of your generation. Unlike her son.

Damn it, why did that slip out of your mouth? That statement was supposed to be an inner thought. “So, um, something like that takes a lot of marketing and advertising. And then to stand out, is another thing. There’s a bunch of dudes selling the same thing and the one thing I know about Ransom is, he ain’t gonna do anything unless he’s at the top. I’m sure he’s making bank. Then there’s lighting and editing. I spend like thirty minutes trying to take the perfect selfie and caption.”

“I’m gonna marry you one day.” Ransom smiled as you shied away.

Abort mission. Hugh Ransom Drysdale talking about marriage was a sign to get the hell out of there. “You all have a good night!” You hurried out the room and that damn house. It was time for a much needed break from the Thrombey family.

Days after the dinner you found yourself in deep contemplation. You had an OnlyFans account to subscribe to this guy Alex, but he was moving to the back of your mind as Ransom moved to the front. It didn’t help that Ransom was posting thirst traps on Instagram. It was like he was specifically taunting you. Like him shirtless in the hot spring. When did he get all of those tattoos?

Day six is when you broke. Ransom posted some pictures of him in the gym and the hormone monster was calling.

Good thing your username wasn’t anything obvious. If Ransom could figure out Donna, he could figure out yours. Typing in his name you found his profile. He had tiers of subscriptions. You choose the top one because you were being a “supportive” friend. It had nothing to do with early access or personalized videos.

One click and you knew your small laptop screen wouldn’t be enough. Quickly you ran to your living room and connected your HDMI cord to the laptop.

Right there on your 90 inch screen was Ransom’s dick. No wonder he was so arrogant. If you had a dick that big, you would be too.

Grabbing your vibrator, you settled on your couch with your legs spread wide open. From the first couple of words, you could tell this would be a glorious time.

Hours later, you found yourself in the same spot again. Today must have been one of those masturbate all day days. Or maybe it was because of Ransom. For your sanity, you would claim the former.

Ransom’s vivid words had you bent on all fours, with a plug in your ass, one weak hand around your throat as the other played with your clit. He even got you to respond to the video like he was in the room with you. If there was someone outside your door, they would think it was two people on the other side instead of one by the way you were moaning.

“Fuck baby! I’m gonna c-,” three knocks interrupted your impending orgasm. What inconsiderate idiot needed you now?

Pausing the video, you pulled down your nightgown and cracked the door open. “Ransom?! What do you need?!”

“Ouch neighbor!” He smiled as he covered his heart. He tried to make his sniffing inconspicuous as possible, which wasn’t hard. Your sweetness carried over strongly. He could even see some of your inner thigh glistening. Yeah, he heard everything. Well, at least two minutes of everything. With the way you were responding he knew you were watching one of his videos. You had to be the newest subscriber leaving him tips on every video.

“I need cheese neighbor.”

Really?! Your orgasm got stopped for some freaking cheese. “The store is down the street!”

“Yeah, but you’re right downstairs and I’m freaking starving.”

“Fine!” You threw your hands up. “Provolone, right?”

He nodded his head. “Yes ma’am.”

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Like he was really gonna listen. Ransom silently cracked the door open some more and slid through. He silently laughed as your muttering. You weren’t discrete as you thought. He knew he was interrupting some very special self-care.

What entitled that self-care was a wonderful surprise. Ransom smiled at himself on the screen. He smiled even bigger at the wet spot on the couch. Guess he found his newest fan.

“Here.” The frantic rush you were caused you to be out of breath. You pushed the cheese into the air but Ransom wouldn’t grab it. Finally, you noticed he wasn’t where you left him. Dread filled you because he wasn’t in the kitchen with you earlier. “Ransom?!” You ran to the living room and found him looking at the tv screen. You ran in front of the tv with your arms stretched out like that would really stop him from seeing what he already saw. “Ransom!”

He laughed at your feeble attempt. “Too late sweetheart. This is much better than finding out Donna was a fan.”

Could God just take you right now? You covered your face up to hide from the embarrassment. “Okay get your jokes in and go home.”

Ransom removed your hands. “Baby,” he cupped your chin and bent down at eye level. “If you wanted this all you had to do was ask.” He kissed your pouty lips. Each peck you became more open.

He cupped your ass. “Tell me.” He sucked on your bottom lip.

“Tell you what?”

“Every. Single. Dirty. Thing. You. Want. Me. To. Do. To. You.” Each word was punctuated by a kiss down the column of your neck down to the he valley of your breasts.

No, you couldn’t do this. Why would someone as experienced as Ransom want someone like you? Novelty? The thrill of the chase? Not happening. “Nothing.” You whispered, too afraid to speak louder because a moan would come out.

Ransom smiled against your chest. “Didn’t sound like nothing.” His fingers slipped up your thighs, treating your wetness like a slip n slide. “Definitely didn’t feel like nothing.”

“I don’t do this kind of thing. I’m a, I’m a goo-,” His hands made your brain go haywire, you couldn’t even speak properly.

“A good girl?” He held your chin and softened his voice like yours, slightly mocking you. “Good girls don’t lie. Tell the truth. What do you want me to do to you?”

Turning away, you whispered the truth. “I want- I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder, princess.” He already was going to his knees and bunching up your dress. His breath teased your core.

Taking a glance over your shoulder, you saw the desire in Ransom’s eyes. It was like his videos, but this was stronger, more authentic and sincere. “I want you to fuck me.”

You caught Ransom’s hungry smirk before he went in for his meal. Your knees buckled and luckily for you the couch was right there. The rose was nothing compared to Ransom’s tongue. Then he seemed to find the remote while he was preoccupied with your clit. Not only did you have Ransom eating you out from behind, you had him in front of you, jacking off, detailing every single thing he wanted to do to you.

His tongue was wicked in more than one way. It could cut you down with words or by one simple flick in the right direction.

“Ransom!” That damn tongue of his just made you cum stronger than you did all day. “Fuck me, please fuck me. Please, please, please.” Your voice reached this whiny tone, that it’s never done before. You couldn’t even remember the last time you begged like this. It for sure wasn’t over dick.

“You want my cock, princess?” How could he be so intimidating and domineering while he was on HIS knees with your cum covering his face. The power this man holds is inexplicable.

Biting your lip, you nodded your head. The response must have sufficed because Ransom was shedding his clothes.

Social media did his body no justice. Instagram couldn’t prepare you for how the thin gold chain sat upon his tanned collar bone from his recent trip to Miami. OnlyFans couldn’t prepare you for his thick head leaking precum. Were you worthy to be in the presence of a body so godly?

“Hey,” Ransom gave you a soft kiss and smile. “I’m the lucky one.”

You scoffed. “Okay sex god.”

“Fine, I’ll prove it to you.” He knew with you, the words needed to be backed by the action.

Ransom proved to be softer, gentler than expected. He truly worshipped your body and all on a couch. You wonder what he could do on a bed. Nope. Don’t get on that line of thinking. This was a one time thing. Ransom was a conqueror, and you are the now the conquered. No more chase. No more need to come back.

You fought your inner thoughts and enjoyed the moment. Your hands raked his back. The only con fucking him for real was that you couldn’t watch his back muscles. That had to be the favorite part of his videos. Watching his shoulder blades contract, move smoothly as he fucked a woman, wishing you were that woman. Now you are that woman.

“My pretty princess.” Ransom kissed you. He couldn’t stop kissing you, he wouldn’t be able to stop fucking you. There was the physical warmth of being inside of you, but there was another warmth being with you. It was basking in your aura. Whenever he was with you, he felt good and worthy.

His sweet words, his words of affirmations made you cum repeatedly. They rivaled his rough touches and hard stokes. Everything was so intense with him. It should be no surprise. Ransom was an intense person. Why should he be anything other than that?

He tilted your chin up. “Tell me I’m lucky.” He knew it, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth.

“Huh?” Weren’t you the lucky one? You were fucking the pornstar, not the other way around.

“Tell me I’m lucky.” He nuzzled his face close to yours.

“You’re lucky.” Your moans reverberated in his ears.

He was near and he knew you were as well by the way you were thrashing underneath him. Ransom just needed to hear one more thing from you. “Tell me how fucking lucky I am to be fucking this pussy.”

Your nails made artwork on his back as you repeated his words. “You’re so fucking lucky to be fucking this pussy.”

Those powerful words and his strokes sent you two over the edge.

“Oh shit, Ransom.” You laughed and played with his hair. “That was fun.”

Ransom kissed you and regretfully pulled away from you. He walked to get a rag and you got to see that you truly did use his back as a scratching post. You even drew blood. “Sorry.” You whispered to him.

“Don’t mention it.” He kissed your inner thigh he just wiped. “Also, we’ll get to do this again after dinner.” He began redressing himself.

“Dinner?” You thought this was a fuck and dash. From your knowledge, Ransom didn’t do dates.

Ransom laughed at your face of confusion. “Yeah, the meal you eat in the evening. Maybe you forgotten because my family turns dinner into speculates. It should be a good first date though. A regular dinner not one with my family.” He smiled.

“First date?!” You sat up.

“Yes,” he kissed you. “I’ll be back in three hours. Can you be ready by then?”

You touched your lips and simply nodded your head yes.

Ransom smiled at your cuteness once more. “I’ll give you the aftercare you deserve later tonight. We can do that Ghostface scene that you were so generous to me tip me on.”

“Ransom!” You threw a pillow at him that never reached its target since he was on the other side of the door.

All you could hear was his laughter, all the while you couldn’t stop smiling. This felt like the start of a beautiful new journey.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x black!reader #pornstar!ransom #pornstar!ransom x reader #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic

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variousqueerthings · 5 months

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but what about those things that aren't ghosts?

Under The Lake/Before The Flood. this is just a solid couple of scifi episodes honestly, plus I mean. a bangin Predator-like alien design (last season we had Facehuggers, this season we have this, I feel like someone was doing a little rewatch of those movies, but I'm not mad)

I actually didn't take cohesive notes for most of s9, unlike the seasons that came before it, because. just didn't wanna. I was enjoying the watch, so this will be more from memory from here on out (good luck me)

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we’re supposed to root for and/or the camera): 10/10

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored, or given agency to her emotional interiority): 4/10

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart, this includes visually): 7/10

furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled): 5/10

companion matters (the companion doesn’t always have to be there, but if the companion is there, can they function without the doctor– and overall per season how often is the companion the focus or POV of the story): 3/10

the doctor is more than just “godlike” (examines the doctor’s flaws and limitations, doesn’t solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor’s existence): 8/10

doesn’t look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and “bettering” previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.): 7/10

isn’t trying to insert hamfisted sexiness (m*ffat famously talked a lot about how dw should be sexier multiple times, he sucks at writing it): 9/10

internal world has consistency (characters have backgrounds, feel rooted in a place with other people, generally feel like they have Lives): 7/10

Politics (how conservative is the story): 8/10

FULL RATING: 68/100 (if I can count….)

See? Solid! although I will be poking at that companion thing, because my main gripe about s9 -- now we've seen the whole thing and we know how it goes down -- is how little it managed to centre Clara on the whole, both emotionally and just... relevant to having the individual plots happen. this is not an issue in every single episode, but I'd say over the half of the season had Clara be largely irrelevant. the episodes where she is relevant show her off very well, but it's just a shame that in her final season she's not put front and centre

I just don't feel like I understand her, still. but, to the episode!

OBJECTIFICATION: As far as I can remember there's nothing in the way of this in this episode. there's three female characters (including Clara) and they're all quite different, Clara is the only one not dressed for the place, but then she's just hopping about in time, not preparing for being chased through an underwater base

Idk, it's been a long time since I last wore a skirt or a dress or heels outside of a little drag, and while I'm quite flouncy in my presentation, I just think if I knew that anything could happen I'd generally veer semi-practical and Clara is consistently not a practical dresser, just as-is, consistently. but maybe that's the pull of skirts and heels -- genuine question, because I'm so far outside of this living, because I just feel like Clara's expression of self outside of a couple of episodes (Time Heist my beloved, and tbh Zygon Invasion 👀) is often just... blandly fashionable in a way that doesn't say much about her character or work for the setting she's in

this isn't the worst episode for it, but it's something I really couldn't stop thinking about it by this point. I feel like every other nu!who companion -- tbh including Amy in her fist couple of seasons even though I didn't like that her wardrobe was often to show off that Karen Gillan was "hot" -- has a far stronger identity tied to wardrobe

anyway. enough rambling on one point, I didn't rate this lower, because she's not being objectified here, I just wish there were less bland choices being made

PLOT-POINT: Clara is largely unimportant to this plot. she doesn't really need to be there, in the sense that there are quite compelling stories for the single-episode characters, and for the Doctor, but she's just. there really

this is also a thing that s9 kind of brought to the fore, although it was an issue from the start, which is that Clara is a very ungrounded character for most of her run. there are episodes where she's more real, and where her interaction with the plot is about her in some way, and in which the tension between her and the Doctor make sense to me, but every season she's in she becomes a slightly different character without the journey being shown onscreen, and her tensions with the Doctor, which can be broadly divided into

s7: the impossible girl question s8: the "making each other worse" season s9: the duty of care

just... don't follow on from each other in my opinion. I keep looking for Clara as a connected character, and there are some things that follow through (which is what I hold on to), but for the most part she just shifts with the plot, rather than the plot in some way interacting with who she is. again, these episodes are not the worst for it, having a few episodes where the companion character is taking a backseat is fine, but this is her final season

there are 7 episodes this season, if we take the doubles each as their own (Sleep No More and Face The Raven being singles), and it takes place after the finale of Clara having lost Danny, having betrayed the Doctor, and having threatened to - and fully intended to - kill someone. there is a lot of potential Stuff to zero in on, but we're just not gonna do that. Clara is just not the character I care about in most of these episodes, because the episodes don't really care about her. she's a secondary or tertiary character in her own adventure a lot of the time

COMPLEXITY: this plot feels pretty Doctor Who, I enjoy it a lot. I like the bad guy, I like the melancholy, I like the scifi nonsense. could it have been done in one episode? maaaaybe, but I enjoyed spending time with these characters, so I'm okay with that. sometimes you wanna spend more time in the world, just cos, and this is one of those times for me. there's a couple of questions that remain, but again, I think that's standard for DW

CHARACTERS/LORE/PLOT: this is pretty much a standalone story in the season. I didn't rate it lower, but maybe I could have, idk. it's Clara again, I wish Clara meant more -- it didn't need to further the Doctor's and Clara's relationship more, but I think because I don't understand it very well to begin with, I would have liked a... something or other that went beyond what was there. this is not an episode issue, it's really a Clara-era issue. I think I'll just never quite get what the writers were going for with her, and it's just that s9 is the season that confirms that for me

COMPANIONS MATTER: Clara spends most of her time running around and waiting for the Doctor to tell her what to do. there's the end of part 1 where they become stuck in different points in time, and I thought "ooh now Clara takes control of the situation on the base" and she... doesn't. the Doctor calls her and continues to give instruction, then the phone gets stolen by the ghosts and her big idea is "hey this guy could go fetch it for us"

she has a few neat lines, I liked her scene with Cass, where Cass is essentially telling her to go fuck herself for getting the man she not-so-secretly loves in danger, and insisting they go after him, but that is kind of my point -- Clara does not drive this episode at any point, except for that moment and it's... not a great look for her. she's the asshole, she convinces someone else to do something dangerous and then has to be convinced to go after him

I did like when she lost Cass and called out for her, before remembering Cass is deaf and calling herself an idiot. there are these neat little moments I hold onto with Clara's character and that's one of them

“GODLIKE” DOCTOR: the Doctor sorts out the main Stuff and that's fine. I like that this Doctor is afraid sometimes and deals with things via their wits, but also with a bit of "well this might not work, let's fuckn see!" The Fisher King coulda just killed him, but the Doctor just crossed their fingers essentially and hoped for the best and then bluffed to win

also I mean. Fisher King kinda sexy. idk where else to put that. any big big alien that goes "lol Time Lords are losers" is right and sexy

PREVIOUS DOCTOR WHO: there's quite a few little casual references in this episode which I liked. Magpie Electricals, ofc the fact that Prentiss has knowledge of the Doctor via UNIT (UNIT again... they're villains in my head honestly), the security protocol, etc. it just feels very grounded in nu!who canon in a way that's fun and doesn't overwhelm the episode with nostalgia references

“SEXINESS”: there's this bit at the beginning where Clara asks if they can go back to this one place they were where she left behind most of her dignity, and listen, I'm being peevish maybe, but it is a pet peeve, so. maybe if I dig at it more I can say why I don't like it, but in the end maybe I'm just tired of M*ffat-era's way of doing sex and sexual reference. that is also the only reference, s9 doesn't do this a lot, but it also just plays back into Clara as a character. who are you? why are you in space? just to fuck about and have a good time? are you the villain Clara? are you a Space Tourist From England That's Just In It For Yourself? or do you respect the places you go, does this mean anything to you?

overanalyses my pet peeve

but also. so much of Clara is just. quipping. gimme more than quips, gimme substance dammit!

INTERNAL WORLD: it's relatively simple. underwater spooky base. spooky base before it was underwater. did they really build nuclear sites like that in Scotland? genuine question, I have no idea

again, feels very grounded in Doctor Who, but casually

POLITICS: I complained back in *checks notes* s7? I think? whenever Centre Of The Tardis was. that M*ffat-era sucked at putting people of colour in his stories, especially men of colour, without them being villains or stereotypes. I feel like I need to go back and look over s8, and have more of a think about s9 as a whole, but I do note that this episode on the whole was having a much more fun time with infinite diversity in infinite ways than I have often felt M*ffat-era has had. it's not the bastion of representation in the sense that it's something that ought to just belong to DW as-is, it's just nice to simply see people

and obviously Cass is grounded at the forefront of the story, and is very important to the emotional core of the plot, as well as various tensions and plot concepts. I'm not deaf, but on the whole it seemed like it was doing a lot with this episode, obviously by having an interpreter who's also someone she clearly has a lot of chemistry with, and the whole idea that these two characters come as a set, not just because nobody else speaks BSL, but because they understand each other emotionally as well

there's also several parts that go untranslated for a non-signing audience, and I wonder how much swearing one is allowed if it's signed. so she's a great character. I kind of wish there hadn't been the early joke of the Doctor being like "aw yeah I can do sign language" and then... not being able to? Why wouldn't the Doctor speak BSL?

I understand there may have been extra logistics, but tbh they coulda just confirmed it in that scene, but had the interpreting happen anyway, because we know that Twelve wouldn't bother getting anyone else up to speed. just think that was an odd choice

perhaps a tad nitpicky, but I am nothing in this if not picking at nits

FULL RATING: 68/100 (if I can count….)

this is a good episode in my opinion. one of the most solid of M*ffat-era, thoroughly enjoyed myself. I wish wish wish Clara had been more than witty one-liners, I feel like there were several points where she could have been given more to do, but I really like the other characters, and The Fisher King design is... well. this blog likes monsterfucking so obvs it was great for me personally

#im watching nu!who #im watching capaldi who #the measurement #episode under the lake #episode before the flood

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mute-call · 4 months

Text

Steven had started his shift with butterflies in his stomach— not the nervous kind, although in retrospect, maybe he should have been more frightened of his night shift. More aware.

He had been happy. He had been so overwhelmingly happy in a way he hadn’t thought possible since the last location closed. He and Mx. Peyton had been dancing around the issue of their relationship for months, now, neither seeming willing to take the risk of ruining their friendship and working relationship over something as significant as admitting their feelings. Steven had been just about to work up the courage to ask if Spencer might want to grab lunch somewhere nice and borderline romantic when the other guard had just come right out and said that they felt things for him that went beyond the bounds of coworker cordiality.

Steven had made a fool of himself, blabbering on and on like always, but somewhere in the middle of “wow, really?” and “this is so neat!” he had managed to invite Spencer over to his little one-person apartment for breakfast-slash-lunch after Peyton finished their next morning shift. Everything had been going so right, which is probably why the night shift had ended up going so wrong.

It’s easy to get distracted when you’re fantasizing about the way those strong, silent types look at you when you talk, and it’s easy to screw up the toughest shift of the week when you’re distracted. It isn’t entirely Bell’s fault, though— the animatronics have been particularly aggressive all night, even compared to their usual Friday-night burst of energy, and all the practiced motions and careful conservation of electricity in the world can’t save him when they all show up at once.

He tries to call Spencer when it finally sinks in that this is the end, but he gets interrupted before he can finish. …maybe that’s for the best. What would he even have said? “Sorry, I’ll have to cancel that date, I think I’m about to get my skull popped through the front of a mask?”

Even being dragged through the hall, he can’t help but think of them. He knows they have the next shift, and that they don’t slack on their work, but if the universe is in any mood to grant a doomed man’s final wish, it won’t be Peyton who discovers his corpse. Anything but that.

Anyone but them.

SHIP + WISHLIST — @entitytcken !!

#spoiler alert steve! /lh lh lh #;mobile #entitytcken #entitytcken 3 #v; main #rp #mutecall

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rowanisawriter · 6 months

Note

Hi, I have some questions!!!!

6) Do you have any OCs without stories? Will you ever create one for them?

13) Which story has the most lore?

19) What are some things that inspired your stories? Real events? Maybe a dream?

25) What’s your favourite genre to write? Is it also your favourite genre to read?

(And how are you doing? 💕)

hiiiii ad thank you bestie!! 🥰

answering these writer asks!

6. any ocs without stories?

nooooo due to my very weird need to have the story before the oc, this never happens to me!! i do this all backwards, i get an idea for a story and then create the oc kind of shaped around the story?? like i never have a character, i have a place to put a character in a story and then just work the character until both they and the story are working together. so i haven’t had any like extra ocs laying around haha

13. story with the most lore

my fics are sooo canon compliant lol i don’t think i have anything that really has its own lore, maybe ceasefire?? just by virtue of being my only “sequel” although it is its own standalone story, it does still have callbacks and characters and themes dragged over from attrition…

19. story inspired by real life

probably heretic!! i wrote it because all the religious trauma in bg3 was very familiar lol and i was raised in a very conservative environment and longed to kill and replace god, so although the story is all magic and make believe, the emotions behind the decisions the characters made, their fears and everything is all very real and i used my own experiences to flesh all of that out!

25. favorite genre to read/write

ROMANCE. i love love, i really don’t want to read anything that doesn’t have any romance in it, and i don’t think i’ve ever written anything without romance, love is the point of everything anyway so why wouldn’t i want to sprinkle it in everything 🥰

(i’m doing good lol my kid is in the middle of potty training so that has been going ….. fine… lol basically i’m in complete shock people have more than one kid like how and why??? this is so awful?? i love my kid but my nerves have been completely frayed at this point and i feel like another kid would give me a nervous breakdown, when i see parents with multiple young kids like at the grocery store i legitimately feel my fight or flight kick in… i must have ptsd LOL anyway i’m doing good ever since i decided only one kid for me!!!!!)

#lol toddlers are so evil #imagine having a drunk friend in your house for five years straight who has no impulse control and keeps trying to kill herself #that’s how living with a toddler is 😭#but she’s becoming fun now that she’s getting older like she has favorite songs and favorite things to wear it’s cute watching her #develop her personality #also healing because i wasn’t allowed to have a personality when i was a kid #anyway!! thanks for the ask bestie #ask games

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bondsmagii · 1 year

Note

Having an existential crisis right now and I shall come to your inbox like a sinner comes to a priest.

So I'm 25, college dropout, barely held a job (like did it for 2 months) and am completely supported by my parents. I'm in every aspect the definition of failure, right? Objectively. Some part was due to mental illness, but mostly me being a lazy and stupid asshole who didn't know what to do with their lives. And then I realized I wanted to be an artist, right? Like one does. And I'm pretty good at it also, think I might have a chance, had some interest in my little art. Very happy. But, but, sadly, to me and all the nation, my parents are rich white awful conservatives who have a very heavy foot on local politics. So, you know, giving the culture of accountability, which I do support, I would've been canceled if I ever attempted to be an artist, which is understandable. Like I've had enormous privileges that were born out of shitty shitty ways. And while I can justify it as a minor, I don't think that being like "well I was a little sad and a little lost and did bad choices" is an excuse when you're a grown ass adult. I directly benefited from money earned by bad ways and just being supported by hateful hateful harmful people. It's like they calling out Benedict cumbebatch for their family being slave owners, you know? You might not have directly done the harm but you did benefit from it. I did benefit from it - everything I ever had and eaten and done was paid for with my dad being an asshole politician. Anyway, I know I can't pursue art, you know? Like I know it. I understand it. I know it's my fault for not leaving early and not getting my shit together and if I ever had a fighting chance of not being an asshole and associated with my family of assholes that chance was turning 18 and leaving - which I didn't do. And it's not like I don't plan on leaving, I absolutely do. Want to get my shit together and cut this people off as soon as possible. But it makes me so sad that I cannot pursue art bc of this. I try to imagine my dream life, like everyone does, and even then when I dream of being an accomplished writer, i can only imagine me being canceled and publicly shamed for coming out of this shitty ass rich family and everything I ever did stained in an irreparable way. In my dreams I'm jk rowling and my past is like her tweeting. A whole life of work and creation destroyed and ruined. People feeling ashamed of even having liked your art to begin with. Like Man, i could even be acused of nepotism, although it truly never played any part on anything. My parents give two shots about art and have no contact with the art world whatsoever. But still, you know, son of a politician. Plus its not only bc of them but bc of my past actions, I am the stereotypical entitled asshole who doesn't work and dropped out of college and fucked up in general. I didn't mean to be one, it just happened I guess. It infuriates me, I wish I could go back to 18 year old me and drag my ass out of the bed and just like beat the shit out of me. Wish I could do it to last year me too, to be honest. Turning 25 really does change a men's perspective. Not that I didn't know I was a failure, but I was quite prone to outsourcing the guilt, you know.

Well, anyways, I know I don't deserve pity or anything like that I mean cmon, but by God did I manage to fuck myself over thoroughly by just doing nothing. Literally doing nothing. It's very frustrating, feeling your past eat your future alive. Undescriblale grief, truly. Anyway, probably gonna become a history teacher now. Go back to college.

But it feels like I will never be able to erase my parents fingerprints of my life tho and everything I ever do will be derivative of the privilege they gave me growing up, which wouldn't be a bad thing, if I didn't fucking hate them and they weren't awful ppl.

Inescapable hell, I tell you. Deserved, I know. It's like that tiktok song "I know I fucked up but jesus".

Yeah anyway

Thank you for hearing my confession bc like father have I sinned.

I say all of this in the absolute kindest way, anon, and with the disclaimer that I firmly believe that nobody is undeserving of redemption and everybody deserves the chance to be happy: this is absolutely delusional, and I'm sorry that you've come to think this way. I am so sorry that you feel you need to live a half-life you're completely lacking passion for, based on these ridiculous arbitrary ideas on who is "allowed" to produce art. I'm sorry that you've been led to believe that the mistakes and choices we make as young people define the rest of our lives and we're not allowed to move on from them. and I'm sorry that you've been made to feel like you will never escape the shadow of your parents. all of this is absolutely false, and I sincerely hope you rethink. I'm going to go through a few things that stood out to be here, because Christ, anon, this is not the way.

So, you know, giving the culture of accountability, which I do support, I would've been canceled if I ever attempted to be an artist, which is understandable.

no, it's not. the current culture of accountability, like many things, came from a place of genuine desire to hold the people doing society the most harm to account. it was designed to call out billionaires and millionaires, and corrupt police forces, and parasitic business practises, and organisations like Hollywood and colleges that covered up constant sexual assault and harrasment, and other things of a similarly insidious calibre. it was never designed for small fry like your parents, who, while perhaps terrible, have likely not done anywhere near this level of damage. even if they have, it was never designed for the children of these people. unless the child grows up, learns better, and still choses to be ignorant and go into the family business, the blame does not rest with them. this level of accountability -- that the child is accountable for the sins of the parent -- is more in line with Soviet Russia or North Korea. it is deranged.

you know better now. take steps to get away and become self-sufficient. you do not deserve to be "held accountable" for being a minor child, and then being a dumb idiot in your early 20s. you are 25 years old. that's an impressively young age to screw your head on right. I know people twice your age (literally!) who still can't admit they've been assholes in the past. you have the rest of your life to learn and do the right thing. denying yourself the life you want in order to beat yourself up over these made-up "crimes" is akin to white guilt in the way that it helps absolutely nobody and "makes up" for nothing. not to mention coming off as self-centred and conceited, putting yourself at the centre of something that harmed others, which is obviously not what you're going for. you do not need to do penance for the rest of your life because you were born to assholes.

And while I can justify it as a minor, I don't think that being like "well I was a little sad and a little lost and did bad choices" is an excuse when you're a grown ass adult.

you are only 25. this idea that all these young people on TikTok or Twitter or whatever have absolutely spotless political credentials is a lie. you made bad choices. you recognised they were bad. now you want to avoid repeating those choices. you have made a mistake and learned from it, and become a better person. that's how it's supposed to work. you don't fuck up and then have to retire from life forever. I will sooner trust somebody who openly admits to being privileged and ignorant in the past than someone who claims they never had a problem with it, and I do not subscribe to the idea that the more oppressed you are, the better you are morally. the best among us are those who fuck up and learn and admit and accept their capacity to cause harm. the worst among us are those who think they're immune to learning, always right, and incapable of doing wrong.

Anyway, I know I can't pursue art, you know? Like I know it.

you are wrong. all art is worth something. every human on the planet has the right to create art and be appreciated for it. it is not something you "earn" the right to do by being adequately oppressed. everyone has something worth saying, and the problem is with industries that amplify certain art over others, not the artists and their backgrounds. it is also fully possible to use your privilege and contacts to shine light on issues and artists that deserve more attention. the idea that if you're too privileged you're not "allowed" to make art, or you have nothing worth saying, is absolutely fucking insane and is not an attitude you come across among normal, intelligent people.

Like Man, i could even be acused of nepotism, although it truly never played any part on anything.

the wonderful thing about callout culture is that you could be accused of anything some random, bitter, uncharitable user decides. I have been accused of being a genocide supporter, a neo-Nazi, a transphobe, and a paedophile. you'll learn quickly as a writer that people who do this are stupid as shit and nobody with a braincell listens to them. I strongly recommend spending more time offline to recalibrate yourself to how normal people think.

Plus its not only bc of them but bc of my past actions, I am the stereotypical entitled asshole who doesn't work and dropped out of college and fucked up in general. I didn't mean to be one, it just happened I guess. It infuriates me, I wish I could go back to 18 year old me and drag my ass out of the bed and just like beat the shit out of me. Wish I could do it to last year me too, to be honest.

we all wish this. I was a cunt at 18. I was a cunt at 21. I was a cunt probably up until I was 26, so congrats, you're a year ahead of me. you know better now. you fully deserve to learn from your mistakes and be allowed the opportunity to be a better person. nobody on the planet is immune from being an asshole, especially at this age. you are right on track, at the age where most people mature and grow out of their assholishness. this is not some irredeemable flaw that you possess because of your parents' privilege. this is called growing up. it is good and it is normal.

Well, anyways, I know I don't deserve pity

I don't like to give out pity anway, as I find it condescending, but you do have my sympathy. you should feel guilt for any people you have actually hurt, yourself, through bad behaviour in the past. but you have my sympathy for the way that you've been made to believe that these mistakes, which you regret and wish to change and never repeat, should doom you to a life of misery, that you do not particularly want, and that apparently mean you're not "allowed" to follow your passions. that is desperately sad. I am sorry this has happened to you. you deserve a chance to prove yourself a better, wiser person, and you deserve the rewards that should come from changing. forgive yourself.

But it feels like I will never be able to erase my parents fingerprints of my life

not quite the same situation as you, but I once thought this exactly. my parents fucked me up big time, and I thought that I would never escape them. now nothing I have has anything to do with them. it's possible and you will get to this point too. think about the life that you want -- that is not theirs. but living miserably in penance for your parents' sins? that will ensure that you will never, ever escape them. the choice is yours.

Inescapable hell, I tell you. Deserved, I know.

never deserved. if you want to do better you deserve the chance. it is never too late to start doing better, it's never too late to change yourself, and if you're sincere and you succeed, you deserve to be happy.

finally, to reiterate something I said earlier: spend less time online. this kind of thought process is only found in people who spend excruciating amounts of time online. people do not think like this in the real world. grown adults with critical thinking skills and basic empathy do not think you should suffer forever because your parents were assholes and you made some stupid choices in your teens and early twenties. being exposed to the kinds of "politics" you get online -- which is less about politics and more about power and self-righteousness and putting others down in order to disguise one's own flaws -- is quite literally making you insane. sign off and work on yourself. the average human life span is around 80 years. don't live in misery because some people online think the first 25 of those years define you.

#anon #asks

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swampstew · 3 months

Note

Hi Raven ✨ If there's still room in your Call Me On My Shell Phone event, could I please get a call from Zoro? My pronouns are she/her and we're in a somewhat new (I think a few weeks) Fake Relationship, although if I can confess, it might not be so fake on my side...! My favorite hobbies are anything fiber arts (cross stitch or crochet, etc.), reading, exploring new towns, visiting botanical gardens, and snoozing during rain storms. 💖 My top 2 aesthetics are gardencore and comfy/cozy.

Thanks so much for putting this on, you come up with such fun events. 🤭 I hope you have fun, too! And congrats on 1K, holy cow! 🎉

Hey Gator ~ I hope you like your moodboard, maybe Zoro finally lets his feelings known ;)

You are now being connected to your beloved dummy…

Purururu pururu—

Zoro: Hey, how have you been? Good, listen um I'll be in your area and I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. I know you like going to the botanical gardens and I know there are some you've been wanting to go to, I can take you if--oh? Yeah no sure, that sounds good. Alright, I'll see you in two days. Yeah yeah I missed you too...

You weren't surprised when you got a follow up call to pick Zoro up. Allegedly, there had been an issue with his transportation and when you pulled up to the scene, you were very confused about the minivan full of yarn and wool that Zoro was resting on.

"Hey! This was my ride until it broke down. I replaced the tires but I don't know shit about engines so we called roadside assistance. As thanks for the tire replacement, these ladies will give you as many spools of fiber you want. Go nuts."

With an excited squeal, you picked a conservative number of spools before throwing your arms around the Marimo who blushed profusely. He helped carry them to your car and the two of you began your trek to the botanical gardens.

The first stop - and to Zoro's horror - an outdoor garden with a hedge maze.

After getting lost and hitting your sixth dead end, he let out a frustrated sigh, " You're supposed to be the one with directional skills."

"I wanted to see how bad with directions you really are," you teased him back.

"Heh, well now you know I'm unreliable," he gave you a sheepish smile. "Speaking of, I know you said you had some accrued vacation time. I was wondering if you'd like to come with us on our next voyage. We ship out next week. I could use really use the help to not get lost...if that's something you're into..."

You didn't waste a second, "Yes! I mean, if you really want me to come with."

Zoro gave you a surprised look, "TCH of course I want that, why do you think I asked? It sucks being away from my---," he looked at you with wide eyes, "My...my..." he trailed off.

"Your what?" you asked with big does eyes.

"From...us...you..." he finally drawled out. The seconds dragged before Zoro put on a brave face and tentatively kissed you for the first time. "So if you want to like...be with me or whatever...you should travel with me."

#zoro x you #1-800-grandlinebling #call me on my shell phone event #follower milestone event #swampstew events #reader insert #raven's silly events #roronoa zoro #pirate hunter zoro

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faghubby · 2 years

Text

HONEYMOON

"Is that it" Isabel asked surprisingly.

"Well I was kinds excited" I told her.

"So was I, I been waiting 19 years for this" She got out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

I had to make it up to her. I had cum in under a minute. This was our wedding night and she had saved herself for this night. I had been married before, but my wife had left me for another man. Isabel returned to bed still wearing her sexy bridal lingerie minus the satin panties.

"I sorry baby, I just. My sisters told me about things" Isabel told me.

"We could try again" She smiled. She touched my penis it was soft. She frowned. "I could try and" She shy slid under the covers and put it in her mouth. Although it felt good it didn't get hard. After a minute she gave up.

"I don't know how to" She said ashamed she couldn't get me erect.

I slid under the covers and went down on her. Even though I had just cum inside her. She had cleaned alittle in the bathroom but I tasted my cum. At first she went to stop me but felt pleasure and let me continue. She moaned and called out as I made her cum. Not once but several times.

"That was amazing" She told me catching her breath. She cuddled and fell asleep. She woke before me and was in the shower. She came out saw I was awake and dropped her towel. I was hard this time.

"Let's try this right" She said and kissed me. I mounted her missionary style and slid right in as I had before. Again I came after only a few thrust. She kissed me.

"Could you do that again" her eyes looking down quickly. With a sly smile I couldn't resist. I slip under the covers and again bought her to multiple orgasms. I got up and showered. I tried not to think about how I had again eaten my cum from her.

Isabel was dressed and fixing her hair. When I got out. I caught her looking at my soft penis several times. As if she was trying to work something out in her head.

"What is it?" I asked

"Nothing, I just thought they where bigger" Isabel told me.

"Well some are I suppose" I told her.

I quickly got dressed feeling very insecure. I knew she didn't mean anything by it just never seen a real one. Her family was very conservative about things. She had told me how she had seen a penis from a neighbor when she was 12. When we had spoken about sex and marriage over a year ago.

We went to breakfast. We had chosen a mountain getaway for our honeymoon. It catered to honeymoons and couples. After breakfast we went down to the lake. Isabel wore a conservative one piece suit even though she had an amazing body. She noticed alot of the woman in very skimpy bikinis.

"Would you like it if I wore something like that?" She asked catching me looking at one woman.

"Well yeah" I joked.

"Letting all the other men stare at me?" She asked

"Your right I shouldn't be staring" I told her

"Its OK, she has a very nice body" Isabel told me. I was shocked by her statement. We sunbathed and splashed around some then went back to the room before lunch.

"You know I checked out s few of the men on the beach today as well" She teased me. Over lunch. And as she said it I watched as she ogled a waiter.

"I never saw this side of you" I laughed.

After lunch she dragged me in to the gift shop. She noticed an entire "ADULT SECTION" but stopped and picked out a bikini. She tried it on. Modeling it for me. I bought it.

"Since you like the idea of other men staring at me" She teased.

"You ok with wearing it" I asked.

"Well we will see" She told me. I went off to play a round of golf while Isabel went to the spa.

"Meet you back for dinner" I told her.

I played 18 holes with a few other husbands. When I got back to the room Isabel was waiting. She was reading a book. When she put it down I noticed it was about sex.

"What's this?" I asksd

"Well I had a few questions, and it seemed strange to" then she too, the book and opened to what she was reading. A chapter on oral sex.

"I couldn't get one of those awful videos" She told me. Her face blushed I knew she was embarrassed by the whole thing. She just had me sit in a chair.

"Comfortable, it says to make sure you are comfortable" She told me

"What else does it say?" I asked. She slid down all sexy and pulled down my pants. She started to suck my dick. I came quicker then ever. She swallowed! I looked at her then she kissed me. Again I tasted my cum. She then giggled and wiped some off my lip.

"Let's go to dinner" She said. I showered and got dressed. Over the next few days Isabel dressed alittle more reveling. She liked showing off her body at the lake in her bikini. Sex seemed to repeat it self.

Although Isabel tried different positions and such I always came fast. And then would lick her to satisfaction. She read her book and then another. On the last night

"I did something naughty" She told me. Showing me she had bought a vibrator. It was still in its box.

"I want to try it but am nervous, I thought maybe you could" I took the box. And laid her on the bed. She had bought batteries as well. I started to run it along her lips then tease the middle before I pushed it in she gasped alittle. I didn't think about that it was bigger then me.

The more excited she foot the harder I fucked her with it. She was soon coming harder then she had. Then I removed it and turned it off. She then had me lay down. She kissed and teased me biting my nipples and sucking my balls. She then took her new toy

"I read some guys" She said and held it against my penis. I came instantly. She smiled and kissed me. We held each other.

"These past 10 days have been amazing" Isabel told me.

"I want you and I to continue experiencing new things" She said.

"You mean" I asked

"Yes, in my reading I learned about alot of things" She told me.

"Like?" I asked curious to see where she was headed

"Well like at first when you licked me after you made love. I thought that was really weird but then I learned it's a creampie and lots of guys like that" She said. She started striking me.

"I think we both would enjoy continuing that" She said.

"And with the toy, maybe we could try some different ones as well?" She asked. I just nodded OK. I was hard now even though I had just cum.

"I read about inviting someone else into the bedroom as well" She told me. The thought of her making out with another woman ran through my head. Her finger slid down and teased my asshole. I jumped.

"You like that?" She nibbled on my ear. I nodded again as she was driving me crazy. She stopped stroking me and used her finger to tease my asshole.

"Can I try something?" She asked. I just moaned She pushed a finger in.

"Does that feel good?" She asked.

"yesss" I whispered. She added sp,etching cool and worked her finger in and out.

"Hand me our toy, I want to fuck your ass" She said. I could not ever remember her swearing never less talking like that. I gave her the vibrator. She turned it on and rubbed it across my ass then removed her finger and worked it in.

"Oh God" moaned. She worked the toy in and out.

"You like getting your ass fucked" She told me.

"Don't stop" I begged. She drove the toy all the way in and out.

"I thought so, your a little sissy." She told me. " You beg to have your ass fucked and love to eat cum" She told me. She pinched my nipple and I went wild.

"I am going to do this everynight" She told me. After a few more minutes she stopped and pulled the toynout my dick was throbbing precum flowing out of it.

"Jerk off for me" Isabel told me. I barely touched myself before I came all over my hand.

"Lick it all up" I looked her in the eye she had lust in her eyes so I did.

She jumped out of bed and dug out her white satin panties.

"Put these on, it's fitting since you just lost your vaginity." She helped me slid them on they where tight.

"Now lick me" She ordered and laid back in bed. I made her cum so hard she squeezed my head. We held each other and fell asleep. I woke and jumped in the shower we had a long drive home. When I got out Isabel had another pair of panties for me to wear.

"I don't think" I told her

"You like it and you know it" She told me. I lifted my leg as she slid a thong into place it was larger.

"I bought then for you" She told me. And jumped into the shower. I got dressed and loaded the car. We checked out and headed home. It was not long before Isabel revieled she wore no panties.

"You wear the panties now" She teased and rubbed me through my shorts. The fact that I had a wedgie the whole drive and Isabel flashed and teased me that she wore no panties was frustrating. At one point Isabel even masterbated as I drove with OUR toy.

That innocent girl I had married was gone. This vixen drove my blood to boil. And I begged for more.

"I think we should get you some more panties to wear. " She told me after we stopped to pee. And I commented about having to use a stall.

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nobuverse · 10 months

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@midnightactual ll Plotted

It had been a routine mission at first, one Nobunaga and many other servants with the skill of Independent Action would often undertake. Davinci's sensors had located a holy grail replica, somewhere in the reaches of time. A singularity, as they called -it a breach so grand in the timeline of history that it threatened the very reality they were trying to restore.

Nobunaga's inherit powers as an archer allowed her to stay manifested for around two days without her master around, but they never dared send her out for more than a few hours to scout ahead without Ritsuka, and only when the threat to reality was considered rather minor - the type of thing that would barely require an effort to fix. As faint as the signal was that the staff achieved, they didn't disturb the young mage's sleep to mention the situation. They'd report to him in the morning, everyone figured, after Nobunaga's return report.

The coordinates are set for somewhere in Japan, sometime after 2016. Close to the time period they had wrongly labeled as "The final singularity". Simple. Easy, even.

But something goes wrong. Drastically so. The servant could knew it before she had even finished rayshifting to the coordinates. A blinding, searing pain shot across her nerves; like all her mana circuits had been fried at once. It ends as quickly as it starts. She stumbles out of the coffin with a gasp as the thing slowly dissolves from the world. She attempts to contact Davinci back on the ship, but gets nothing but static in her communicator. Useless.

Although she didn't feel any pain, it somehow felt as though she was missing a part of her- like a limb had detached itself without warning. Regardless, she figured the best thing she could do at the moment was simply get on with the mission that had been assigned to her, if for nothing else than a distraction.

She decides to begin in spirit form, walking in the space between the physical and ethereal planes. Though she can't interact with anything around her, she can at least take a good view of the city without drawing attention to herself. She finds nothing unusual, much to her dismay, but a thriving city. Certainly, one with its fair share of some less than appealing areas, but nothing that could explain what had peaked the interest of the radar. She would have usual taken the time to revel in the modern marvels far outside her time period, but she can't focus now. That uneasy feeling of anxiety was only growing stronger and stronger.

She materializes back into the physicals realm a few hours later. Thankfully, she was able to get a hold of Chaldea this time. But, as expected, the news isn't good. She's ended up no where near where she's supposed to- in another universe, entirely, even. It was one that ran parallel to that of their own - not interfering with their timeline at all. It means she can't simply rayshift back, it'll take a long time to get her back. Then, comes the worst news of all: her contract's been severed. She's lost her connection to her master- her source of mana. Though they'll try everything they can to save her, it's unlikely to happen within the span of two days. It's suggested she stay in spirit form to conserve the mana she has left.

-----

Two days come and pass, although it seems like an enteral wait. It's through either determination or sheer luck that she's managed to live this long, hoping to be reunited with her loved ones on board the ship: her wife. her brother. her best friend. her niece.

----

It's in a vain attempt to distract herself, spirit wandering from one rooftop to another, that she sees it for the first time. This shadow, a presence unlike any she's ever seen dragging its lumbering feet through the city gravel. It's half the size of an average house, figure both human and distinctly inhuman all at once. A large hole in its chest, gnashing teeth behind an ugly mask.

Nobunaga's first thought is how incredible it is that no one's reacting to its presence: only the destruction it accidently causes as it moves along. This beast was moving along unseen, overturning sidewalks and bending light posts.

She wants to reveal herself, but can't. She's been warned that if she manifests in her physical form again, there wouldn't be enough mana in her left to turn back - and she'd drain away her reserves before the end of the day.

Foolishly, she follows it. Even though she knows her time in Chaldea has made her soft, even though she knew she wouldn't be able to stand by if it went after a human life.

The result is predictable, in hindsight. When the mangy creature reaches for a teenage boy, sleeping on a bench in the middle of the summer afternoon, she breaks. Feet hit the roof tiles with a clatter as she manifests, a wave of her hand summons a matchlock rifle, and she fires. It roars as the bullet goes through its shoulder, the teenage boy awoken by the sound of the gunshot. Her rifle falls, sliding down the roof as it dissipates again. She focus on running now to lead it away, manifesting another between two houses, just enough to allow her to jump the gap. Her communicator has to be turned off, as it's already started annoying her ceaselessly. ( No doubt with Davinci and Sherlock screaming at her from the other side. )

She sprints as the beast runs after, leaving debris in its wake as it tries and fails to reach for her. Her only thought is getting it away from the general population, into an empty, open soccer field she had noted earlier.

Her landing is anything but graceful. She stumbles, almost falls. She decides to conjure one last loaded rifle, into her arms this time. She aims, and fires just in time as the white mask comes only a few meters from her. Blood splatters on her face as it falls, hopefully for good.

" Freak." She muttered, spitting at the ground. She had to get one last insult in before she collapses to her knees. Exhausted, but also not gone yet.

In a few hours time, though, that would change.

#this was like SO MUCH SET UP SO #Don't feel like you have to match length at all lol #as expected I got super carried away as usual #SO ANYWAS figured our main villian would probably manifest hollows as a distraction while he's working up his master plan #If Nobunaga was NOT super strong against demonic/ heavenly attributes she would not have been able to pull this off rn though #but i decided to leave it up to you if she'd actually killed it or not ^^#midnightactual #the fool of owari [ nobunaga ]#v; Ally of Proper Human History #Servant Manifestations [ Threads ]

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liminalpebble · 11 months

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Sex and Death: Chapter 13, Theories

Masterlist link

Chapter 13: Theories

The next morning was a groggy one. The team sat around the table clutching their coffee cups for dear life as their six sets of bleary dark-circled eyes watched for the gurgling percolator to finish. As it did Magnus grabbed the carafe and went around filling each mug, risking a sweet little grin to Noura when he reached her. It had only been mere hours, but he had missed her. His large, empty, messy apartment had never felt more barren and unfamiliar and his bed had never felt colder.

Wallander tapped the table and inquired, “Alright, what have we got?”

Madsen from forensics spoke first. “The DNA results are back from the blood trail,” he explained, dropping a mugshot on the table; a ruddy middle-aged man with close cropped blond hair and the neck and jaw of a bulldog stared up at them. “Jens Larson, 51 years old, Swedish citizen. As you can see, he's been arrested multiple times for several misdemeanors; drunken brawls, angry public outbursts, that sort of thing.”

Noura turned the picture to face her, asking, “Martinsson, does this match the description Yasmin gave you?”

“Yeah...yeah it does, but we can check with her to be sure. And I get the impression from what she told me that he's a racist piece of shit.”

Kurt glared. “Well as of right now he's a missing person and potential murder victim, so let's show just the tiniest bit of sympathy and not jump to conclusions, okay?”

Svendsen spoke up. Noura, couldn't help but noticed that he still, somehow, looked fresh and sharp despite being as sleep deprived as the rest of them. “He's probably right though, Kurt. His file does list affiliation with hard-line conservative and Neo Nazi groups known to be active throughout Sweden and Denmark.”

Magnus gave a crooked grin, proud that his hunch turned out to be right. “Told you so,” he quipped lightly, as everyone started at him.

“Jesus, Magnus!” Noura scolded, crossing her arms and frowning although she was also secretly glad to see a bit of his playful irreverence resurfacing.

Noura asked, “Wait, do we know that he was the one being dragged? Isn't it possible that he was injured in some sort of struggle with...well...with whoever he might have been dragging, causing him to bleed all over the snow.”

“That's the thing,” said Madsen, “The boot prints are too small to be his. Also, he was reported missing by his employer this morning. He works for the city driving a snow plow. There's been no sign of him since yesterday and the plow was left, empty and abandoned in the building's front lot.”

Svendsen turned to look between Magnus and Noura quizzically, trying to parse something out. “Magnus, you said that from Noura's window the snow was clear, and then about 30 minutes later, you looked out and saw the tracks, right?”

“Correct,” he said warily. Worried that he might have to tread carefully here.

“Did either of you hear anything as well? Larson was supposed to be on shift in the area during that time period. Did you hear the engine of a plow cut off? Maybe the sound of a struggle?”

Magnus looked him coldly in the eye and said, “No. It's not likely I'd hear sounds out front from the back of the building and on the 4th floor. We've been over this when we gave statements.” There was an edge to his voice. He was already beating himself up for not paying enough attention while he was there. He could have seen the man himself if he hadn't been so distracted. Now Svendsen's questions only highlighted this lapse and, he worried, might beg the question of what he was distracted by when he should have been more vigilant.

Five pairs of wide eyes met his. “Sorry Svendsen...everyone...I'm just really really tired.”

“No worries, mate,” Svendsen said with an easygoing smile; mood as unruffled as his shirt.

Kurt sighed, “We all are. I know. Well, we're getting a permit to search Larson's apartment, it might give us a bigger picture.”

Noura spoke up. “It doesn't seem like our serial killer. If it was, we would have gotten another letter by now, and probably found a body. Also, the victim isn't a woman, isn't of Middle Eastern descent. Could this be some kind of vigilante action? Maybe someone was building the same kind of profile we were and jumped to the conclusion that it must be Larson?”

Magnus shook his head, drawing a finger pensively over his lip. “ It's possible, but if that was a vigilante's conclusion it was a piss poor one. He doesn't fit our statistical profile for age range anyway...among other variables.” He scanned the report page in front of him quickly, “And it doesn't seem the groups he affiliated himself with were the specific ones indicated by our profile. Whatever the case, I doubt the killer is Larson...even if he is a racist piece of shit. We're looking for someone younger who moves in younger white nationalist circles.”

Svendsen rebutted, “but he does fit my psychological profile pretty closely. Racist men in that age group harbor a lot of resentment towards women of their target subgroup. I would suspect a sexual element, desiring such women and feeling shame about it. Several killers like this have lashed out at women of a certain ethnicity as a means to purge themselves somehow...to make amends for the sin of attraction to those whom they see as lesser people. ”

Kurt and Magnus both rolled their eyes. Magnus said, “And do you have any actual evidence for this or are you just guessing, Dr. Freud?”

Josef just gave a good-natured laugh. “Look, I know how you think of profilers like me. I won't take it personally, but I figured it was worth voicing the thought.”

Wallander considered for a moment then deferred to Director Holgersson. “Are you comfortable bringing the residents back into the neighborhood, calling off the patrol, since this doesn't seem to be our guy? Its interesting, but I don't think it gives us anything for the serial killer case, and I'm sure that neighborhood would like to get back to normal.”

“Yeah. I would say it's likely safe...well...as safe as it ever is there. We have to think of where to put our resources. We'll get a different team on it.”

“Wait, Kurt, I just don't know. I don't see Larsen as the killer but, call it a hunch, it all seems connected to me,” Magnus pondered aloud. “This serial killer knows Noura's name and face from the news. It's hard for me to call it a coincidence that something which would draw her professional attention would land right in her lap. Maybe this is a message for her.” “Do you have evidence for that?” Svendsen asked, unable to resist poking Martinsson for his his dismissal on the same grounds. Josef gave a tired huff and addressed his superior. “With all due respect, you don't know that neighborhood. Noura and I do. Half of it lives in those apartment blocks with a clear sight line to that backyard. And it wouldn't exactly be the first time for a homicide or missing persons case to show up there.” Noura shrugged in reluctant agreement. He had a point.

Kurt gestured to Svendsen and nodded. “Exactly, and we can't justify taking too many task force resources away from this serial killer case to scour for a missing Nazi. We'll keep the uniforms on it and hand it off to a different team. We need to go back and refocus on our solid leads.” He turned to Noura and Magnus, “Have you two gotten all you can from those letters? If our killer holds to his pattern, then the clock is ticking on another woman's life.”

Noura nodded and said, “We're fairly certain we have all we can get from them. Decoded, it just turned out to be more disjointed rambling about race wars, etc. It's hard to see any solid leads there, but we'll comb through it again.

“Do it. And everyone, if you still see some connection between these cases, by all means, keep considering it, but don't let it distract you. Stick to the evidence. We have lives in our hands.” he said the last part looking pointedly at Magnus.

Taglist: @peacefulpianist @peaches1958 @icytrickster17 @sired-to-hybrid @mjsthrillernp @acidcasualties @loz-3 @annoyingsweetsstranger @alexakeyloveloki @marcotheflychair @muddyorbs @smolvenger @sweetsigyn @goblingirlsarah @lovelysizzlingbluebird

#magnus martinsson #magnus martinsson fanfic #wallander #wallander fanfic

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cheeto-flavoured-pasta · 11 months

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WIP Excerpt

Here's a random snippet from my current WIP, Don't Leave, aka DL (yes, I'm too lazy to work on the other one I was obsessing over for this whole week).

Word Count: 1, 376 words.

NOTE: This is an excerpt from the first draft, so things are still subject to change.

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

My head lifts up, hair strands warm in the hot sun. I raise a hand and squint an eye, only to see what seems like a cluster of small gray buildings on my far, far left. Is that a flamy landmark towering above the house? It sure seems so. Although I'm viewing the settlement from miles away, I already have this twisting feeling in my chest about it.

That place looks like no good.

But still, I want a small peek. A little spy mission, if you will. There's a cliff and boulders near the village, so I have something to hide behind. And if I ever find myself endangered in the village, I can book it out immediately.

Swallowing with steely resolve, I shift my direction and start walking towards the cliff near the settlement.

My feet burn, the weather isn't getting any cooler, and walking takes an hour — breaks included. I'm going to run out of food at this rate. I've already eaten all my bread before it got spoiled, and as for the fruit, well… it's the same fate for them.

If there's anything to take away from today, it's that I'm horrible at conserving things in situations like these. And that will likely be the death of me.

But still, I get to the strange town, tired and sweaty. I reach the cliff with all the rocks, near the village with cobblestone houses and wooden roofs. My eyes haven't scanned the citizens yet.

I exhale shakily, grab my spear, and set down the sack near the largest boulder here. Chanting and chatter can be heard in the distance, and… I can't even tell if it's friendly or intimidating. It just sounds dull and monotone. This entire village is dull and monotone. I slowly peer out from the boulder and lean forward to get a better view.

Oh dear...

It's the masked people again. They walk around the dirt paths as if they own the place — which, well, they likely do, but that's not good news for me. My adrenaline spikes along with my heartbeat, and I breathe deeply, sidling behind the boulder again.

Never mind this then. It's most definitely time to leave the place.

"GET. BACK. HERE."

A scream instantly rips from my throat at the menacing voice that booms through the air, and I clap a hand over my mouth to silence myself. Swiveling on my heel, I peek to see a girl with long brown hair and a mask on her face darting down the village pathway and leaping over the metal-wired, purple-glowing barrier around the roads.

Wait, that's not any girl.

It's —

"June!" I whisper-shout, grabbing my sack and darting away from the boulder and running alongside the cliff.

She's taking the same route as me, and when her head turns, she waves. How the hell did she get that mask? Wait, has she been part of this dangerous masked the whole time? But, no, that's impossible.

So how…?

"Kaguya!" her voice booms in my ear, almost making me trip. How'd she get so close so fast?

June grabs my arm and pulls me along even faster, the wind rushing in my hair as I stumble over my own feet. Through the grass we run — we run and run and run all the way until we reach a giant cave on a small, hill-like mound. My friend drags me behind the cave and crouches low. Just as I'm about to speak, she places a finger over her lips.

I look down from the mound. There's a ring of of giant boulders surrounding us in a perfect circle at the bottom. I suppose it makes for good protection, but I still don't feel entirely safe.

Three masked figures dart across the grass, and the sight sends bolts of fear stabbing right through my chest. But they don't notice me or June, no. They keep running forward, exclaiming, "They went that way!"

If this wasn't so damn scary, I would laugh at how idiotic they are.

"Kaguya," June whispers. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same dang thing," I retort. "Why are you wearing those people's clothes? Are… are you part of them now?"

She shakes her head calmly. "I was only trying to fit in with the village folk and gain information by listening to them."

"Oh, thank heavens." I sigh of relief. "What did you find out about them? All I know is that these Mask People are scary as all hell. One almost tried to kill me last night."

June's eyebrows shoot up momentarily. "How… How did you get out alive?"

"I have no clue."

"The Possessors are able to control people whenever they please, and nobody is immune to their dark magic. Did they possess you, Kaguya?"

I cock a brow. Possessors? Dark magic? What?

"No, no. They didn't possess me. Also, is that what they're called? 'Possessors?'"

June nods. "Precisely. But why wouldn't they control you? Did they not use magic on you?"

"I… I think they did. They shot huge dark spheres and beams that hurt terribly. But they didn't possess me." My stomach starts to churn with dread. "I didn't even know that was a possibility…"

"The dark spheres are what they use to possess others. So they did try to possess you. And it should have worked, but why didn't it?" June scratches her chin. "It doesn't make sense…"

"Do you want me to get possessed?" I frown. "Also, how long have you been in this village to know this much about the people there?"

June drums her fingers on the grass. "Well, I've been at this village for over a day now, which isn't long, but I've been trying listened in on as many conversations as I possibly can to gain a lot of informaton. The only risk to that is being found out that I don't have dark magic."

"Why is that a risk? I mean, I already have an idea why, but…"

"Apparenlty all Bayholdens do not have dark magic; only those who are Possessors do. And it appears that these Possessors are very aggressive towards Bayholdens, for reasons that I… don't know about. That's why you saw me running back there. Someone had asked me to demonstrate my dark magic abilities, and I couldn't, so they figured out I was from Bayholde and tried to slaughter me."

A chill shot down my spine.

"So what you're telling me… is that you almost died today because these lunatics found out you were from Bayholde."

"I suppose you could put it that way."

How is her face so blank and calm while she says that? "What?" She tilts her head. "I know saying such a thing is shocking, but I didn't actually die, so I figured it's not bad."

I scramble and scrape through my head for words to say, and eventually, I grab onto the first thought that's been lingering in the back of my mind.

"June, we need to go home."

"Home? Where is that? We haven't found home yet."

"Bayholde!" I snap. "That's our home!"

"It's never felt like a home, and I don't say that because I didn't have a house to live in back there. I came out to the Darkelm in order to find my home — somewhere I can truly feel at peace. I don't consider Bayholde my home, because I was never at peace there."

"Well, you're not at peace here, either. And I doubt it's safe to spend another night trying to look for a 'home,' because there's a high chance you could get killed, or you could get possessed and kill me under a Possessor's control — or both! It's not worth it."

June raises a brow. "Were you not the one who rambled on about escaping Bayholde for years? Why the sudden switch-up?"

"Because — because —" I break off into a sigh. "Because I thought I'd find freedom out here, and that the Darkelm wasn't as bad as the Elders always said it was. But I think I was wrong."

I bury my face in my hands, shame overtaking me in the form of a sunken heart.

"I think I was really wrong, June."

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

Note that this is still a first draft of the book, so things can still be subject to change. I'm not sure where I'll put this up yet -- my only current writing platform is Penana.com, but I only have APS on there as a 'test' to polish up my writing skills (also that site is deteriorating, just a bit) I'll have to figure out the platform I'll post DL on later, I guess.

*Also if you don't know the premise of DL, it's briefly explained at some point in this post. I've yet to do a proper WIP intro for it, but it's coming soon.*

#wip excerpt #writeblr #writing excerpt #am writing #writing community

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whitelacepants · 8 months

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im not very good with words so I'll try to explain this the best that i can, but I've recently started seeing like, way too many people leaning towards violence before they lean towards support and i feel like that's a really dangerous way of thinking bc there are so many teenagers on these platforms that see this stuff and don't like, understand the full picture, you know?

like for example i see a lot of "kill nazis" posts on here but i rarely ever see posts that say "protect jewish people". same goes for queer people too, it's always "kill transphobes" "kill homophobes" and then you'll see the rare "protect queer people" "protect trans people" when pride comes around and people wanna start selling pins and stuff. same goes for poc. and i totally understand that these phrases are probably like, valid reactions to marginalized communities being terrorized for so long, but i think a lot of teenagers get the wrong message and think that like, violence is the immediate reaction to stuff like this. does this make sense??

and I've definitely seen so much worse on tiktok! like i saw a post talking about how if we started "stringing up" pedophiles now then we'd have so many "pretty decorations by halloween" and im just like huh?!?!?!?! like we're basically teaching kids these days to kill people that they dont like and that's exactly what conservatives are teaching their kids too!! so now at this point, instead of fighting for people's rights we're all just fighting about who we think deserves to die.

and before anyone says anything crazy, i totally understand that pedophiles and rapists and nazi and etc. are horrible people that do horrible things! im not saying they dont deserve some type of punishment for the things they do and the people they hurt. im just saying that we maybe dont have the right to decide who gets to die. because conservatives do that all the time.

like think about it. if liberals/leftists/whatever we're calling ourselves these days, if we start saying "hey, all these bad people (tm) deserve to die" the conservatives are gonna find a way to label these marginalized communities as the "bad people(tm)" in question and that'll be their justification for killing them. and honestly, it's already happening! like conservatives think that trans people are pedos and are gonna sneak into the bathrooms and hurt the kids, and then that spiraled into drag getting banned in some states, and now trans kids cant take hormones and they can get taken from their homes because of "child endangerment" if their parents are supportive, and then project 2025 is like, the ultimate guide to killing off queer people (although im sure their are more people that'll be hurt by project 2025 as well).

like does this make sense?? i know it's kind of complicated but im hoping i explained it ok. im not a politics person so i know i dont have all the right terminology and stuff to like, properly convey what im trying to say.

#god how do i tag this #uhhh #politics #tw politics #tw pedophila mention #tw transphobes #tw antisemitism #pedophillia mention #transphobes #antisemitism #tw murder #i think that's it

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variousqueerthings · 6 months

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Can I be a teeny tiny bit terrified

ghosts! mysterious creatures! misty forests! psychics! good ingredients, it's "Hide"

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we’re supposed to root for and/or the camera): 10/10

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored, or given agency to her emotional interiority): 7/10

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart, this includes visually): 6/10

furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled): 6/10

the doctor is more than just “godlike” (examines the doctor’s flaws and limitations, doesn’t solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor’s existence): 9/10

doesn’t look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and “bettering” previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.): 6/10

isn’t trying to insert hamfisted sexiness (m*ffat famously talked a lot about how dw should be sexier multiple times, he sucks at writing it): 9/10

internal world has consistency (characters have backgrounds, feel rooted in a place with other people, generally feel like they have Lives): 6/10

Politics (how conservative is the story): 6/10

FULL RATING: 73/100 (if I can count….)

this one's a bit hard to rate, because I don't strictly think all of these needed to be very high, but there were definitely things -- more related to pacing than anything -- that could be improved upon

OBJECTIFICATION: there are three ladies in this episode, Clara of course, Emma Grayling, and the witch-ghost (who is actually a time traveller/spacefarer called Hila) all of whom are chill. Honestly feels like we're beating the curse of the Kissogram at this point!

PLOT-POINT: sooo Emma is kind of mainly there to be psychic/empathic -- she does feel feelings about it, and to be fair, the other guy isn't a super fleshed out character either

Clara has some feelings about being very scared but still quite brave, so she doesn't feel emotionally vacant from the episode + she gets this cryptic warning about the Doctor from Emma (he has a sliver of ice in his heart), which at least gives her a bit of POV

but there's still that annoying overhanging "Clara is a mystery" which is the whole reason it turns out they're there, even though it only comes up at the end + we do get a bit of how Clara might feel about the concept of ghosts, as she questions the Doctor about how they see people -- both living and dead at the same time, all the time: "to you I havent been born yet. And to you I’ve been dead 100 billion years. Is my body out there in the ground? To you I’m a ghost… we’re all ghosts to you. We must be nothing."

it gives the idea of her being introduced as "a mystery" a tad more depth, because in some ways all mortality is a mystery to the Doctor

Hila's interiority is on the whole less explored, which I think is a bit of a shame, because this episode has a bit of pacing drag here and there, which could have been used instead to give her a bit more depth

COMPLEXITY: this is another thing related to the pacing, although it doesn't annoy me much, I will bring it up! for pedanticism! there's a mystery about a ghost that's actually something bleeding through from a pocket universe, so they go there, bring her back, the Doctor is stuck there and it's oooh the creature there is spoooky, and then that kind of takes awhile, and then right at the end we squeeze in the actual plottwist, which is that there are two creatures trying to find their way back to each other

there's a lot of travelling forwards and backwards in time with the Tardis to first discover that Hila is the ghost, which in itself isn't bad + gives the quite neat interaction about people seeming like ghosts to the Doctor generally, but then once they're in the forest it's made out to be creepy in a way that doesn't quite pay off, and spends a looot of time on, comparatively

and there's never enough time given to looking at the creature, until the very last shot (which! I do love!)

CHARACTERS/LORE/PLOT: soooo Clara is "just" an ordinary girl, confirmed. and Clara is getting some insight into how the Doctor might see mortality, and having some kind of feelings about that

COMPANIONS MATTER: yeah, she's very proactive! so proactive in fact that she calls the Tardis a cow, twice! it made me gasp, I tell you, but actually an antagonistic relationship with the Tardis is quite a fun change (also possibly slightly related to her being a Time Anomaly - the Tardis isn't a fan of those, canonically)

anyway she strongarms the Tardis into helping her help the Doctor, which is quite fun. also this little interaction, when the Doctor asks her to accompany him ghost hunting in the spooky house:

The Doctor, after she's willfully not engaging with him: Im giving you a face. Can you see me? Look at my face Clara, giving in: Fiiine. .. dare me! The Doctor, grinning: I dare you. No take-backsies

it's very siblings energy, I enjoy that she's not just running into everything without caring of the danger. sometimes you're scared!

“GODLIKE” DOCTOR: the Doctor gets this one wrong so many times, it's a running gag. one more win for the "just some guy" Doctor fans!

PREVIOUS DOCTOR WHO: there's a fair few Easter Eggs to both Classic!who and Nu!who in it, which is fun if you know what to look for

“SEXINESS”: SIMILARLY ARE WE FREE OF THE CURSE!???

INTERNAL WORLD: a tad rockier, big spooky house, interesting backstories to the characters, check, then pocket universe of spooky forest, cooolcoolcool, but there's something a little sparse about it for me. Nitpicky, but this is the rating to nitpick with!

POLITICS: mmmmm I guess don't judge a book by its cover, and sometimes the spooky alien is actually just not someone you're used to seeing. otherwise kind of a simplistic episode on the whole, although I like the link between the young woman who describes herself as an "assistant" and her many times great granddaughter who's a space pioneer

(although, I've gotta be honest, there was a moment where I wish we could have cut out the guy and made this a lesbian cross-time romance instead, it would have been great and focused the episode a little!)

FULL RATING: 73/100 (if I can count….)

the biggest best thing of this episode is the cool alien design, and also the space-faring woman who is thought to be a ghost, and these are unfortunately the bits we get the least of. but that's not to say this episode is terrible

it's a very fun little episode, with more bits between Clara and the Doctor exploring their dynamic, as well as Clara and the Tardis! (not enough companions have a lot of feelings about the Tardis in my opinion, if I were travelling in the Tardis I'd be cooing over her 24/7)

anyway, another strong contender in the second half of the season!

#im watching nu!who #im watching eleven who #episode hide #the measurement

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