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reverie-starlight · 6 months

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just some quick suna fluff bc I’ve been having strong feelings for him as of late.

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff!!!! slightly lovey-dovey. still getting used to writing him so it might feel a bit choppy but he’s fun to practice dialogue with <3

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“rin, quick- what colour are my eyes?”

he looks up from his phone to see you covering your eyes with one hand. in the other is your own phone, screen lit up with some paused video.

“why?”

you click your tongue and his mouth twitches. “because I want to see how well you know me, obviously.”

he raises an eyebrow at that. “do you really think after all these years I don’t know your eye colour?”

“just go with it!” you plead, and then continue with a “please, rin?”

with all the confidence in the world and zero hesitation, he says “pink.”

the speed at which your hand comes down to hit the bed you’re both sitting on forces a sly grin onto his pretty face. your face is priceless and your eyes are as stunning as ever. it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I swear-“

you look completely done with him, so obviously this means he can’t help but mess with you some more. he puts on a bewildered expression acts like he’s surprised.

“no, seriously, I think you have pink eye or something, babe. I thought you knew already.”

you blink and the annoyed look on your face turns into worry. he watches you switch to the camera app and examine your eyes. “RIN!”

he can’t help but snicker and beckon you over to cuddle into his side. you do, despite being cross with him, and he soothes you with a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry baby, it was too easy. of course I know the colour of your eyes.”

you roll them and nod a bit, sulking.

he blinks and tries to figure out what’s happening in front of him before realizing there‘s probably something else going on. he thinks back to the paused video he saw on your screen earlier and recalls that it was one of those street interviews that tests couples.

he’s seen them, of course, and has always made fun of the guys who don’t even know the most basic shit about their partners.

and then something clicks in his brain. are you scared he’s like them? you should know by now that he’s not, but he knows that sometimes doubt and insecurity creep in against your will, so he holds you tighter and flicks your forehead.

“I know you like the back of my hand, eye colour included. I’m always paying attention to you, even when you don’t realize it.”

you nod again, but you don’t look completely convinced yet. he scratches his chin as he thinks some more of how to make you feel better.

plan A is to flirt, because as much as you deny it, he knows you secretly like the attention and compliments he gives you.

he tilts your chin up to look at him and smiles a little, examining your eyes. “yup, still the prettiest shade I’ve ever seen. I never get tired of looking into them.”

you can’t hold the eye contact for long (you never can and he absolutely adores it) and gently pry his hand off so you can turn away.

“stoppp,” you say in a voice that makes it clear to him you don’t mean it.

because he knows you and all of your cues and he’ll spend every day proving it to you if he needs to.

“getting shy on me? you were so fiery earlier, what happened?”

you knock your forehead against his shoulder. “shut up.” there’s a smile in your voice now and he doesn’t even need to look at you to confirm that fact.

“nah, I’ll keep going. I hate to say it ‘cause you need to be humbled sometimes, but you’re, like, really hot or whatever.”

your head shoots up and you gape at him. “I need to be humbled?” there’s the hint of a laugh at the end of your sentence and he just shrugs.

“hey, I’m not the one who gets off on messing with their partner.”

you gasp and do let out a laugh this time, hitting his shoulder. “yes you are, you dick!”

and you allow the slander because you know suna, too. this is his way of acknowledging that you’re upset, not bringing it up and bringing you out of that state without being dismissive. he always knows exactly what you need and how to make it better.

after a few more minutes of back and forth, you’re giggling into his chest and he’s just smiling up at the ceiling while rubbing your back. a familiar warm feeling settles in his heart.

“better?” he asks.

you sigh happily against him and he feels you nod.

“good, because plan B was pretending to fall off the bed and hoping you laugh.” he’s half joking, but if it really comes down to it, he knows he’d bend over backwards to see you happy.

you snort, but you feel fuzzy at his words. you seem to realize the same thing going through his mind in that moment.

“thank you.”

he’s not sure if you’re thanking him for cheering you up or for simply knowing you, but his response covers both meanings anyway.

“my pleasure.”

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he’s insufferable and I love him and this kinda sucks but in my defence I wrote it last night in like twenty-five minutes.

@dira333 here’s your tag!!!

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader fluff #suna fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #suna x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x y/n

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velvetlilacsdaisies · 6 months

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Shit at Feelings i

Part one

Pairing: Bodhi Durran x fem!marked one!reader

Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: SPOILERS!!, drinking, swearing, filler dialogue, not proofread v well. lmk if I missed anything

A/n: my first Emperyeon series fic!! Was supposed to be just a one part fic, but I got carried away. I also just wanted to write a self indulgent piece w dialogue amongst the group too 🥲 this is my first time in a while posting but I fr love Bodhi sm I needed to have something w him in it. I hope you enjoy!

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You survived your first year, you defied the odds of what everyone else said about you. Not only defying those odds, but being one of the best in your year. Maybe Imogen and Xaden had played a crucial part, but most of the marked ones were surprised. You had been more quiet and reserved out of the group of kids for the high ranked officials, but that didn’t mean you were weak. You had proved that while being ruthless and cunning in your training. Your parents were Fen Riorson’s top battle strategist and healer after all.

In the gathering hall, everyone celebrated moving into their new ranks. While simultaneously saying goodbye to the third years they’ve grown to know. You were indulging in the alcoholic lemonade, and your fellow fourth wing with more than a few words tonight. You sat on the left side of Violet while Imogen sat on the right. Nadine and Sawyer next to Rhiannon across from you bickering playfully about something. You savoring your newfound will to live after the events at Resson.

The hall was sweltering in the summer evening heat, no amount of lesser magic had helped. Neither did the warmth you could feel from Ridoc beside you. Taking your jacket off, only being left in your tank top underneath.

“Damn Y/n,” whistled Ridoc. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your relics yet.” Everyone’s eyes went to you, and usually you would’ve been intimidated by all eyes on you. Tonight it didn’t faze you that much. Even noting the softened gaze in Nadine’s eyes, who had been skeptical of the kids of the rebellion at the beginning of the year.

Both sides of your collarbones are covered in intricate designs extending to shoulders making their way down to your biceps on both arms. You never tried to hide the relics, but you never took your jacket off or opted for a long sleeve, higher collared shirt when training in lessons.

You rolled your eyes at the male’s cheekiness and everyone gawking besides the few who knew what already laid beneath your jacket. “It’s not something I necessarily flaunt.”

“Obviously or we wouldn’t all be shocked here.” Sawyer snorted, sipping on his beverage.

“It’s so badass though.” Violet acted as if she hadn’t only seen it days prior.

“I had been fortunate in the placements of them. Since both of my parents were a part of Riorson’s regime.” You tried not to be bashful about it.

“Where’s your dragon relic?” Ridoc blurted as he looked at the design on your shoulders.

“Sheesh,” Rihannon reached over, flicking his ear. “You’re staring like you’ve never seen any relics before.”

Before you could give a response, something caught the youngest Sorrengail’s eye causing her to get up. “I’ll be back.” Violet stood up from the table, wobbling tipsily to the corner where you saw Xaden and Bodhi. The latter descended, seeing the silver haired girl approach them, offering a curt nod when they passed one another.

You gulped at how good Bodhi looked in his new third year jacket, even when it bore no difference to his second year uniform. You were just a sucker for Bodhi in a uniform admittedly. The mage lights illuminating his dark curls to a chocolate hue that tempted you to run your fingers through his hair.

Despite being close with Xaden, Imogen, and even Garrick—you kept your distance from the younger man for a year before he left for Basigath. When you were kids, you two had been close friends, maybe even inseparable. But when a rebellion happens, and you have increasingly become aware of how much your affection for him went so much deeper than being his friend—things become complicated.

When you were around him now it was the only time you felt truly timid. You could conquer the parapet, gauntlet, bond a dragon, kill venin and wyvern, but that man was your weakness. He had narrowly saved you and your dragon from a wyvern attack while back in Resson.

His cheek still dusted with a greenish yellow bruise, and jaw gashed with a healing cut. Unashamedly you thought it made him look so much more lethally handsome than he was. Gods you were resorting to a bumbling nervous lovesick puppy.

“Human women and their finicky hormones and emotions.” Your dragon, Cleasaí, chortled through your bond.

“Quiet, go eat sheep or something.” You slammed your mental shields up from her to the best of your ability while intoxicated.

Bodhi reached the table, already looking at you. His hazel eyes shimmered with curiosity as he scanned your exposed arms and collarbones. Either not used to lack of sleeves or was it the fact you unabashedly stared back for once. His mouth curled into a lazy smirk. You hoped he didn’t notice your already flushed warm cheeks redden under the mage lights, feeling a ghost of smirk on your own lips. The lavender lemonade made you feel bolder evidently as well.

“Mind if I squeeze in?” He asked, keeping his eyes locked on yours stil.

“I can move over—“ Imogen started moving closer to you, but he had already stepped over the bench to take a seat in between the two of you. “Or not.” She deadpanned. She had been one of the only ones that knew the complicated timeline between the two of you.

Your heart skipped a split second from the stare down between the both of you. Now feeling acutely aware of your posture and the swarm of what you could only compare to bees buzzing around in your stomach.

“Y/n,” he greeted casually, his voice a warm husky tone.

“Bodhi.” You tried to play cool, and take a sip of your frothy drink. Not only did you know he was looking at you, you could see Imogen in your peripheral, giving you a “what-the-fuck” look at the interaction. Ignoring the pink haired girl, you spoke up again. “Feel like a third year yet?”

“Eh, it won’t hit me until the new candidates get here.” He finally took his eyes off you as Ridoc offered him a bottle of ale. “Thanks man.” Bodhi’s side pressed up to you when leaned over to take the bottle.

His warmth doubled down into you, igniting the exposed skin where he pressed into you. Feeling his minty breath fan the side of your face, and the smell of cedar, patchouli, and musk invade your senses. You could feel his hard muscle flex through the layers of his clothing against your bicep. The storm that buzzed through your stomach turned into heat seeping into your core. Lovesick puppy or just desperate for male touch?

“I know I will be taking every advantage as a second year,” Nadine chimed in. “Finally being able to sleep in is priority number one!” She did a little celebratory dance in her seat. You snapped out the trance Bodhi left you in, and agreed with her.

“I’ll be savoring our newfound alone time too.” An extra hour in the morning, and weekends to actually do something more than chores or training. Maybe you can finally break out the sketch book that someone smuggled in for you during a supplies trip. You only found it on your bed with no note.

“Define alone time, Y/n.” Rihannon wagged her eyebrows at you. The group chuckled at the suggestive comment.

“Or will you use your newfound freedom to bring someone into your room finally?” Ridoc added, causing the group to laugh louder. If you weren’t red enough already, you had to be beet red now.

“What makes you think I haven’t already?” An inquisitive eyebrow raised at the shorter male from beside you. ‘Oohs’ rise from the group.

“Did you want to be number one, Ridoc?” Quinn giggled.

You felt both the male in question and Bodhi tense. The former blushing a deep scarlet in embarrassment and the latter wearing a neutral expression you couldn’t decipher.

“Sounds like you’re keeping watch of me.” You teased playfully. The flushed male who usually was never at loss for words was now stammering trying to deny it. “It’s okay, maybe one day I’ll take your consideration if I’m ever bored enough.”

“Not what I meant.” Ridoc put his hands over his face groaning. You finally let out a laugh from his reaction, you couldn’t help getting the slight joy of teasing him. He always got the joy of doing it to everyone else. It seemed the rest of the group was enjoying teasing the man just as much too. Everyone besides Bodhi, who had a slight scowl on his face until Imogen whispered something to him.

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By the end of the night, everyone was just about ready for bed drunkenly chatting and giggling at one another. You had consumed two more tall glasses of lavender lemonade. Most of the group now were clamoring around getting clumsy and incoherent. While you were trying to stay sane while remaining seated next to the guy you’ve always had undeniable feelings for. Overly aware of every little action he did at the table throughout the night. From him laughing to the way he gripped the bottle of his alcohol. Lovesick puppy.

You had stood at the exit of the hall up to the dormitories with Ridoc and Rhiannon. Both have to hold each other up as they bid you goodnight.

“Y/n,” Ridoc hiccupped. “I wasn’t serious about earlier, but if you’re—“ hiccup “serious I can be—“ another hiccup “serious.” You did everything you could not laugh out loud knowing it was the alcohol talking.

“She wasn’t.” Bodhi came up next to you, giving him a glare. You shot him a look, not used to such a serious or broody version of the man you grew up with. Him always being the friendlier one out of Xaden, Garrick, and himself. “Goodnight you two.”

Rhiannon’s eyes widened in a shocking delight. “I knew there was something between the two of you!” She squealed, like he bared his soul with a couple words.

“There is—“ you go to correct her, but the tall male beside you cuts you off.

“Goodnight Cadet Matthias.” He had an authoritative tone that made your knees buckle. Or was that the alcohol? His muscular arm wrapped around your waist as he noticed your unsteadiness, and you felt that same sensation you felt earlier when you leaned into him for support.

Your two fellow second years gave the both of you looks before clumsily walking away, leaving you alone with the male holding you up. Your heart is now hammering as he starts to lead you away.

“Let’s get some air.” Bodhi motioned his head to the courtyard as he effortlessly led your stumbling form outside. You wanted to scoff at his proposition. Your new bed and pajamas were calling your name.

A few cadets and lieutenants lingered around the expansive yards, but he quietly led you to an alcove that brought you to a secluded spot where no one could see the two of you.

You leaned up against the stone wall, letting the summer breeze cool your skin. Carefully observing the tawny skinned man from beside you. He took out a small rolled paper and a match, lighting the roll and the sweet smell of churam filled your nose. You weren’t allowed to smoke, and you knew if you were caught you two would be expelled and possibly executed at this point.

“What are you doing?” You hissed as he took a drag, watching him let the smoke leave his mouth and inhale through his nose. There goes that damn buzzing feeling in the pit of your stomach again.

“Relax this is our smoking spot, Y/n/n, no one comes around here.” He reassured you once he exhaled the smoke again. You rolled your eyes staring at the mage light that flickered on the wall. After a lengthy pause, you glanced back at him.

“What makes you think I wasn’t serious?” You questioned, crossing your arms around yourself.

“You know these are the most words you’ve spoken to me in months? Maybe even years?” He ignored your question.

You opened your mouth, before closing it again. You couldn’t admit it was because of your harbored feelings. Not now. Because he was right, you hadn’t talked for quite some time. It didn’t feel right nor did you want to omit that confession.

“Well you were here for an entire year and I was back home so yeah it’s been a year since we talked.” So you played oblivious with him.

He scoffed, “you’ve hardly spoken to me since you’ve gotten here.”

“You just seemed so busy—“

“Cut the shit, please.” He pleaded, now anxiously dragging the joint.

As he brought it away from his lips after a couple puffs, you stole it from him. Your fingers brushing slightly as you grab the small rolled herb. The small touch warrants an electrifying feeling between your fingers. Quickly brushing the thought of if he felt it too, you took a hit of the herb. Letting the sweet smoke seep into your lungs and haze the self awareness and guilt that filled you.

You didn’t want to let him in, truthfully. You’ve already witnessed too many losses during the succession and your first year alone at Basigath. It was when your parents had been executed when you started slipping away from him. You let the stereotypical crush trope hide deep down what you felt, how afraid you were. It would hurt to know, if you finally got the balls to admit everything you’ve felt, and something happened to him or you. It already almost did once, the regret and shame still kept a hold of you for the last few days.

You could now see the disappointment in his eyes. “You’ve always been quiet and reserved, but with me? That’s never been you.” You took another deep inhale of the herb.

“Could you blame me if I was scared?” Your hands slightly shook as you handed the joint back to him. Your eyes were earnest as you looked at him.

He shook his head, running hand through his hair. “You're scared? Fuck, Y/n I almost watched you die. And you know what ran through my head thinking ‘this could be it’?” He took one last smoke, throwing the remaining part of the joint on the ground, stomping it out into the cobblestone. “That the last fucking year spent with you was speaking through a chain of command or small talk bullshit when you weren’t running the opposite if I was near you for too long.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you could feel the tears burn the edges of your eyes. That electric current you felt in your stomach only a few moments ago had solidified into a brick. Then ascended into a wall that crushed you with an iron force with his words.

You two had only briefly talked while in Aretia after what happened.

You had tended to your dragon most of the time while waiting for Violet to heal. Your green clubtail had a poorly injured claw from a wyvern, and despite her persistence it would heal, you were nervous that it would draw too many questions back at Basigath. Xaden agreed and saw Brennan to help mend some of the wound once Violet was stable. You were not able to leave her side while the stranger tended to her. She was already furious that someone besides you had to touch her.

You wanted to talk to him more after that, everything had happened so fast though. Then you went back to avoiding him.

“You’re right.” You mumbled, picking at the edge of your nails. “I’m so sorry, Bo.” Your lip trembled, and the first tear slipped from your eye.

He sighed, sounding defeated. “Gods, I don’t want to be right.” He gently grabbed your elbow, wrapping your smaller frame in his arms. “I want you to stop icing me out, Y/n.”

He ran a hand through your hair, his chin resting on top of your head as you sniffled tears silently running down your cheeks. He had every right to be upset with you, but here he was comforting you. This had always been the Bodhi you knew, how he was before the height of the rebellion. Whereas you had turned cold, letting your cowardice and stubbornness control your emotions—for what you thought was for good reason.

“I know,” you stifled against his jacket. Finally wrapping your arms around him. His grip tightened, and you were overwhelmed by the sense of comfort. You hated what this man did for you and to you.

“I shouldn’t have had this conversation tonight.” He admitted. “I should have waited until we were both sober.” He let you go, and you wished you were still wrapped in his muscular arms. A cold seeping into you that wasn’t due to weather.

You shook your head, a sad smile on your lips. “I would have run.”

“And I wouldn’t have had the courage to bring it up.” A dry chuckle echoed through the quiet alcove.

“We’re riders and we’re—“

“Shit at feelings?” He mused as he watched you tug your jacket on. You wiped some stray tears from your cheeks with your sleeve.

“I was gonna say pansies, but that works.” You sniffled, as a toothy grin finally appeared on his face.

“Should we get to bed and do this all over again tomorrow?” He offered his arm. You raised an eyebrow at him, was he sane? “I mean the drinking part, not the arguing. I enjoyed hearing more than a word out of you tonight though. So I can resort to arguing if needed.” He nudged you slightly.

You rolled your eyes teasingly, “no promises.”

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Reblogs and likes are appreciated! I am open to feedback as well as requests too! 💕🫶

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scoobydoodean · 15 days

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I was wondering if you, as a Dean fan have opinions about the different writers? Mostly because I see a lot of Dean fans really strongly dislike Dabb for some reason and I don’t really understand why. I’ve never seen a concrete explanation beyond “he can’t write Dean/doesn’t understand Dean/actively hates Dean” but with no examples as to what he does that’s so bad. And I see this in every shipping lane. I don’t have a strong opinion about him as a writer one way or the other.

I'm exploring this more as I rewatch the show (currently on season 6) so I'll speak mainly from that perspective on my most recent thoughts. I am not a big fan of Dabb or Loflin, but have tried to be fair about things so far when talking through each episode. I am a fan of "Alpha and Omega"—it's my favorite finale (it's also... a finale for a season Carver started as showrunner? So I don't know what the implications are there as far as storyboarding). Also points for having demon Dean stab a guy through in 10.02.

I'll focus on the negatives you asked about in this post, but in the links you'll find me moving the narrative this way and that toward much more charitable readings... I think. (I do have a tag #dabb disk horse which you can either peruse or blacklist at your leisure). What I can tell you is something almost always strikes me as a off about Dabb/Loflin episodes so far in this rewatch in terms of character work.

Dabb/Loflin's first ever episode was 4.06 "Yellow Fever". In the aftermath, Kripke felt the need to release a definitive interpretation of their episode to the public, stating, "Dean is not a dick... he's a hero." The whole episode toyed with, to an extent, the idea that all the victims of the MotW were bullies. You can take this other directions—for example, queer meta, or meta about Sam as the real bully. However, the story a lot of fandom latched onto was that "Dean is a jerk and deserves to be humiliated and punished for that" which obviously didn't make Dean fans watching live in season 4 happy—and this theme of Jerk!Dean continues into their next episode, "After School Special", where they once again parallel Dean with a bully literally nicknamed "Dirk the Jerk" by Sam, and throw what I think is transparent shade at Kripke's issued statement from before the Christmas break (post here)... or maybe they mean to throw shade at the Dean fans who got angry. In this episode, they also make illusions to Dean wanting to have sex with barely legal high school cheerleaders, which also did not ingratiate them to Deanfans at the time. I said on my last rewatch, "In After School Special, Dean seems more unlike himself than any episode ever in the history of Supernatural up to this point" (post explaining that here). I carry similar sentiments about portions of 5.06 "I Believe The Children Are Our Future". Yes—I am aware of performing Dean meta. I just... feel like they try a little too hard. It feels hamfisted—desperate. To the point it doesn't feel like Dean anymore sometimes. In 5.06, they also have Dean (guy who is generally very protective of kids) suggest to Jesse that he'd be good to have in a fight???? I can see how they got there, but again—it just feels... off. The last episode I rewatched that they authored, 6.04 "Weekend At Bobby's", also leaves a bad taste in my mouth—not in what it's trying to do with Bobby or what it's trying to do on a meta level—but once again, with dialogue from Dean that just makes me think "he would not fucking say that" (post here). I think looking at all of these, you can probably see deangirl ire toward Dabb has a long history. It's been around as long as he's been around, whether he deserves as much ire as he gets or not.

I haven't circled back yet on this rewatch, but Dabb and Loflin also penned season 7's "The Girl Next Door"... do I need to say anything specific? Maybe I'll just link my entire #amy tag. What narrative did they want you to get from that episode? Who the fuck knows. And that's often the problem:

When you watch various episodes I've mentioned, you can work around to a meta that tells you something different than you might at first think the page conveys—something hidden and maybe contradictory. The thing is... you could also... not do that? And that wouldn't be so bad, except that sometimes the two narratives you can most easily grasp completely contradict each other. "After School Special" can be an episode that points to Sam's envy of Dean and John deep down and foreshadows Sam becoming a bully, but on a meta level, it also just as easily says Sam becoming a bully is somehow Dean's fault, and Sam is some poor captive baby. Dean is a creep and a bully and a cheater but we should all coddle him because he saw his mom die when he was a child and he's sooo sad. "Yellow Fever" can be a queer meta story and might also foreshadow approaching Bully!Sam in 4.14, but it also very much does call Dean a jerk (should we take that seriously? should we not?) and implies Dean should be punished for the outcome of three decades of reality-bending torture. Even if it's a queer meta underneath... it's just as easily one about how closeted men should be humiliated for cowardice or how being closeted turns you into an asshole.

Jumping way ahead, I have to mention 15.10 "The Hero's Journey" just because. Yes, it is full of jokes and Garth goodness, but also tries to sell you the story that nothing about Sam and Dean is real, to a degree that feels like you are being flipped the bird for ever watching this show. And again—you can make meta that it's all a ruse! But is it? Or is Dabb actually just telling you to go fuck yourself? Like he totally wasn't when, after the SPN finale when fans were Not Happy™️, he tweeted a sign reading, "Don't feed the baboons"? Yet again—we play into the motif of the "hero" who isn't a hero at all but some pathetic loser who deserves to be publicly humiliated, bookended with Dabb's opening episode in his opening season. I'm not saying that's what it is on purpose—but I am saying you can make these arguments easily, and that leaves me consistently annoyed with Dabb for being fucking sloppy and leaving me to deal with some of the most insufferable meta imaginable that carries little support outside of episodes written by Dabb or the Dabb/Loflin writing team.... Yes—I am in fact saying that Dabb and Loflin's hamfisted episodes (regardless of their intentions) are largely responsible for some of the most insufferable, loathesome fandom metas about Sam and Dean's relationship around.

Look at 5.16 "Dark Side Of The Moon", and 7.08 "Time for A Wedding!" and 8.14 "Trial and Error", 11.17 "Red Meat", and 15.20 "Carry On". Along with 4.13, while they might or might not say something deeper or contradictory on a meta level, on a surface level, every single one of these episodes sows the narrative that Dean is needy and clingy and needs Sam more than Sam needs him—something I intensely disagree with for a multitude of reasons... but I'll just link this. Many of these episodes also follow a surface level narrative of "normal life obsessed Sam" (and here I'll link my entire #sam the hunter tag and #in which sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea). When I look at this episode list, I also don't find it at all difficult to believe that Dabb wanted Dean to die in the finale. There is nothing at all shocking about that. And yes—you can argue he's pointing to the opposite—that this fate should be subverted and that's what makes 15.20 the dark ending, but I think you can just as easily argue that yes it's a dark ending and yes Dabb has always dreamed of this ending. A "tragic" ending where Dean dies and Sam goes on to have a white picket fence... while also leaving you little hints along the way that maybe it's all a big ruse because how could he not? He never has to explain anything. Someone else will pick up the story and make it make sense. He's already fucked off to piss all over fans of Resident Evil.

That said, when I mention what I feel is off character work, I mainly mention Dabb/Loflin episodes from my recent rewatch, which suffer from the two of them being newer to the series (coming onto the writing team in season 4) and also leave questions about whether, perhaps, they had conflicting ideas about characterization. Was Dabb the one penning these lines? Was it Loflin? Was it both? Did they trade out who took the lead? I didn't really say anything negative about "Sam, Interrupted" or "Jump the Shark"... (though "Sam, Interrupted" also calls Dean "codependent") who wrote those? Is it possible that the messiness of the meta comes down to two writers at war? I have to imagine though, that they got along, or else they wouldn't have written together for four fucking years. If they didn't get along...? My mind always comes back to their first solo episodes, right after splitting up in season 8. Dabb's first solo episode is "Hunteri Heroici"—the only episode to lend any perspective to season 8 Sam's reasons for abandoning everyone—paralleling him checking out with Fred's catatonia, which Sam has to save Fred from. It is the only episode that lends Sam sympathy in the early part of the season. He follows it up with "Trial and Error"—where Sam promises to save Dean from suicidal thoughts. Loflin's first solo episode is what I would regard as the most scathing solo episode commentary on Sam in the entire series—"Citizen Fang". Then he writes again right after Dabb's "Trial and Error"—penning "Remember The Titans" where Sam tells Dean to get over the promise Sam so passionately made in Dabb's episode and face reality.

This is why we're exploring this rewatch.

DISCLAIMER: Now I just devolve into bitching because I'm writing at 3AM. Proceed at your own risk.

It seems like these days, everyone demands an explanation for disliking Dabb (something about some sort of destiel battle... I don't know what that flamewar is and I don't give a damn tbqh.) I guess I've just been wondering what's actually so great about him. Because it feels like people have overcorrected to basically acting like he's god's greatest gift to mankind. People point to how meta his episodes can be, but I think other writers easily best him on that front on multiple occasions (particularly enjoyed by me so far on this rewatch: 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me", 4.04 "Monster Movie", 4.12 "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag"), and without leaving their meaning so up in the air that you don't even know what the hell they were actually trying to tell you because there are two different completely incongruous narratives you could just as justifiably claim were the intended one. Some people may find that duality praise-worthy. I don't. I find it sloppy—and when I add in mediocre character work, I just land on the side of him being, at the very best, mid.

Add him in as showrunner, you have... at least two of my least favorite seasons (13 and 15). Add that he's a one-trick pony in terms of the Sam and Dean conflicts mentioned above that he continuously rehashes rather than come up with anything new or fresh, and the same conflicts between Dean and Cas being played out until they both die (shut UP I'm not talking about canon destiel as the alternative—I am literally just asking for more diverse conflicts). I can't say I understand what I''m supposed to find so impressive.

(Before anyone so much as breathes this near me, Berens also sucks and I am going to tear off your nose hairs if you start bringing him up as if disliking Dabb for some reason means wearing rose colored glasses about Berens. Berens can eat a whole cactus raw over "The Trap" alone.)

#writer disk horse #dabb disk horse #mail

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wayfayrr · 10 months

Note

I know a lot of people give Twilight a country accent… how do you think the chain would react if reader had a southern/country accent aswell? (If you don’t wanna answer this, dw)

Sorry this one took so long!! It took a few tries to write something I was happy with plotwise!! I hope you'll like it! But for the accents, I have to thank my wife @angry-trashcan for helping me out with them, and by helping I mean rewriting the all dialogue perfectly for me 💖💖💖 they're incredible and I really recommend anyone who hasn't goes and reads hair holds memories because it's an absolutely amazing fic!!!

Where am I? It feels like I’ve been hit by a truck, but worse… This place clearly isn’t my room, because the last time I checked my room wasn’t a forest.

The last thing I remember was playing twilight princess, then this weird red-eyed shadow and now I’m here? The amount of pain I’m in proves that it isn’t a dream, no matter how much I hope it is. The area I’m in looks vaguely like… no, no that couldn't be possible.

This place is a game. This can’t be outside of Ordon, It can’t be.

“Is anyone there? Anyone at all?”

No response, but if I really am in… or somewhere similar then I know where to go. After that revelation, it’s a fairly easy decision to follow the path I’ve memorised from many playthroughs. It doesn’t take long to get to find my way either, a matter of moments until I’m on a more well-worn path. With nine people who look like Link standing in front of me… Great…

"Uh, you 'right, darlin'? We found ya on the trail, passed out. And ya don't look like you're from 'round here."

"Sorry I just... Yeah, I ain't from 'round here."

Why does he look so happy, I’ve not really even said anything have I? He doesn’t recognise me, he can’t it was dark link who’d always look at me in the games when he shouldn’t have, not link. Except for… No let’s not get into that right now. I’m speaking to, I’m speaking to the link from twilight princess and he’s got the same accent as me. HE’S GOT THE SAME ACCENT AS ME. Is that why he’s so excited? It’s part of why I’m so excited.

"You do seem kinda familiar though, darlin'. Even though I ain't know exactly where... just how, but now I could listen to ya all day long."

"I think I may be able to answer that, though I'm not sure if ya'd like the answer I'd give ya."

"I'm fairly certain I can, darlin'. 'Sides, it's not like I don't already know."

“What was that?”

“Nothin’”

He looks obsessed and a bit ashamed? Is my accent really that impressive to him? His voice is nice as well, but his voice isn’t the only reason I’m flustered right now. Link, the hero of twilight is standing over me like he’s never heard anything like me before.

"so [name], are you feelin’ better now?"

"I-I haven't told ya my name. How do ya...?"

“Ah, sorry darlin’ lucky guess, mayhaps??”

"Lucky guess!? I know for certain that that ain't a rare name here, let alone a common one."

"And what you was sayin' under ya breath earlier, you already know who I am, don't ya?"?"

Seems he still has the decency to look ashamed of how eager he was there, but now that brings up so many more questions. Was he aware the whole time, how much has he heard? If he has heard all of that why is he so excited to see me?

"darlin'?”

"How much do ya know ‘bout me, link."

"Well, it's a uh, long story."

#links✦react #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #moss✦answers #moss✦writes

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flightlessangelwings · 11 months

Text

When it Comes to You...

Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader "cariño" Word count-3.1k Dialogue prompt- “ you need to get out of here! go! i’ll buy you some more time!“ Action prompt- [ REUNION ]: after spending a considerable length of time apart, the sender reunites with the receiver after saving their life from an immediate and potentially lethal threat. Warnings-s.mut (18+ ONLY!), rough s.e.x, protective!Veracruz, implied violence/minor character death, feelings, no use of y/n Notes- Of course I had to do a V fic for my Year of Protectiveness! @yearofcreation2023 I've missed writing for my husband so much I can't believe it's been almost 6 months since my last V fic! But, I hope y'all enjoy the ongoing chronicles of V and cariño! @flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up of date on when I post!

You knew what you were getting into when you chose to be Comandante Veracruz’s girl. You knew you were safe with him, that he would protect you always. But, you also were aware of the dangers that came with being so close to a man like him. You knew that the traditional marriage, family, white picket fence life was not in the cards for you. And you were ok with that. Much like how you drew him in, there was something about Veracruz that you just couldn’t turn away from.

And that only made days like today all the more special to you.

Somehow, you managed to convince the comandante to spend the day at a local park with you. It was a beautiful day out, and you wanted to enjoy it… with him. You were shocked at how little convincing it took for him to join you. But what you didn’t realize was he agreed to go mostly to watch over you and keep you safe. At least, that was what he told himself was the reason.

Veracruz didn’t tell you this, but he had run into some trouble with rival arms dealers lately. And though he kept it buried, there was a fear that someone would use you as leverage against him. It was something Veracruz would not allow. No, he had to keep you safe no matter what.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but something grew within him when it came to you. It was more than sex, more than just a release. There was something that drew him back to you over and over again. And while he made it clear that he would never be the conventional relationship type of man, a part of him craved some sort of stability with you. He liked having you in his bed… in his arms… in his life. And if it meant a day resembling a date out in a park every once in a while, Veracruz could set his usual demeanor aside for the time being.

When did he get so soft when he came to you?

“Thank you, by the way,” your voice broke him out of his thoughts as the two of you wandered the park.

“For what?” Veracruz scoffed in an attempt to hide the mushy feeling that threatened to creep up on him.

Your smile was brother than the sun in the sky as you beamed at him, “For this,” you gestured vaguely, “For taking me out today.” You reached for him and placed a feather-light kiss on his cheek.

Veracruz’s eyes darted around as he suddenly had no response. He knew you knew better than to expect romance, but there were times, like this, where it came dangerously close. But, before he had to worry about it too much, a shadow in the distance caught his eye.

He grabbed your hand and yanked you close, “Stay at my side, cariño,” he mumbled, “We are not alone.”

You gasped, but hurried your steps as Veracruz eaves through the park in an attempt to outrun the sudden pursuers. He led you down a different path towards a more dense forest, and you followed without question. But, your path became blocked when four men popped out from behind the trees.

Veracruz cursed under his breath as he tried to backtrack, only to find that path was now blocked by even more men, all wearing black and carrying weapons. Your heart pounded in your chest as the fear quickly flowed through your veins.

You were surrounded… trapped.

“Out with your girl, Comandante?” one of the shady-looking men asked, “It’s a nice day for a picnic date,” he looked at you, “Hi there sweet girl.”

“Who would have thought the mighty Comandante Veracruz turned so soft?” another spat as they closed in on you and Veracruz.

“If you are trying to catch me off guard, you will find that does not come easily,” the comandante kept his guard up and his body tensed. His hand hovered over his gun, and he kept you tucked behind him, making himself a human shield for you. He heard your rapid breaths behind him and he felt the way you clung to his shirt. He knew you tried to keep a brave face up for him, even in such danger.

“V…” you breathed.

In a flash, Veracruz raised his gun and shot forward, catching your assailants off guard. As they scattered, he grabbed your hand and bolted away as fast as he could take you. Once the two of you ran a good distance, he ducked you both behind the cover of some bushes and pulled out his radio, signaling for backup.

Even in the middle of an ambush, Veracruz’s main priority was you. He had to keep you safe first and foremost, no matter what. And these men would pay for thinking they could use you against him. Veracruz was smarter than that. And he always took precautions.

“Listen to me cariño,” he grabbed your shoulders as he forced you to look at him, “You know what to do.” The fire in his eyes burned brightly.

You swallowed hard as the adrenaline pulsed through your system, “Yes,” you whispered.

“Good,” Veracruz gave you a squeeze. He thought over for a moment, and when he didn’t hear the approaching sound of footsteps, he leaned in and gave you a heated kiss on your lips, “Now, you need to get out of here,” he pushed you away from him and pulled out his gun once more, “Go!” he shouted over his shoulder, “I will buy you some time.”

Your eyes went wide as the last few moments felt like even more of a whirlwind. It took your mind a moment to catch up to what Veracruz was saying, and before you could say anything, you realized he already ran back towards the men who tried to attack you. Part of you wanted to stay, to help him somehow. But, Veracruz trusted you with his emergency plan in case anything like this ever happened. He trusted you to follow his command, knowing that he always had your best interest in mind.

So you had to trust him that he would be ok on his own until backup arrived. “Stay alive, V,” you whispered to his retreating figure before you turned and ran the other direction.

You ran for what felt like hours, knowing exactly where you were going. Veracruz always made it a point that you knew where you were and where to run to in case of an attack. Most days, you told him he was being overcautious. But, on a day like today, you were grateful to have your escape plan in place.

It was nightfall by the time you made it to your destination: an old, cheap motel in the middle of nowhere. No one would ever think to look for you here, and Veracruz made sure that there was always a room there to hide away in.

Out of breath and drenched in sweat, you pulled the key out of your pocket and let yourself inside. Part of you hoped Veracruz finished off the attackers and made it back before you and he was here waiting for you. But, your hopes were quickly dashed when only a dark, empty room greeted you.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you locked and bolted the door behind you before you closed the drapes and made sure the room was secure. The comandante never spared any expense when it came to you, and he made sure to teach you well in case you were ever on your own. You let out another deep breath as you sat down on one of the chairs for a moment and rubbed your aching legs.

“Come back to me, V,” you prayed out loud as you took the opportunity to catch your breath.

But, with nothing but the clock ticking away the second to occupy your thoughts, the room felt lonely. So, you decided to take a quick shower and wash away the sweat and ache while you waited for him. Thankfully, Veracruz made sure to keep a bag of spare clothes, food and necessities stashed in the room so you wouldn’t be without.

There was nothing else you could do right now anyway except for wait. And as much as you hated to just sit around, you made a promise to him, a promise to do exactly what he told you to do. And what he told you was to get here to this room and wait for him.

Hours dragged by slowly, but even as the sun set and the moon rose high in the night sky, you couldn’t sleep. You were plagued by the what ifs and the worst case scenario. You knew your comandante was more than capable of handling himself. You had seen it firsthand. But, you also couldn’t help but worry.

You never meant to get this involved in Comandante Veracruz’s life. He was supposed to be just a one night stand. Then he was supposed to be just a fuck buddy. But, somewhere along the way, your feelings for him grew into more. You couldn’t turn away from him even if you wanted to. He was the last person you should be with, and yet he was the only one you wanted.

There was no way you were going to say any of that out loud to him, though. Veracruz wasn’t about feelings. At least not in the traditional way. But, the way he always kept you safe, the way he always defended you, the way he fucked you… it all had to mean something… right?

Suddenly, a rattle at the door jolted you from your thoughts. You gasped softly as you jumped up to your feet and grabbed a nearby alarm clock from the table. You watched with bated breath as the door slowly clicked open and the knob turned. Without even thinking, you chucked the small alarm clock at the door before you yelped and ducked down.

The clock smashed against the doorway and you heard a string of Spanish curses from that same direction. You didn’t care to uncurl yourself until you recognized the voice.

“You missed, cariño,” Veracruz chuffed.

You let out another gasp as you looked up and saw your beloved comandante in the doorway, “V… You made it,” you breathed in relief as you took in the sight of him.

Veracruz quickly locked the door before he met your gaze and let out a huff. His body was sore and tired from the fight and the journey, but just the sight of you was a relief to him, “Did you have any doubts?”

“Never, Comadnate,” you looked into his eyes with the first smile since the two of you were ambushed.

The two of you stood in a tense silence for a long moment before Veracruz crossed the room, launching himself at you like a panther on the hunt. Fire burned in his eyes as he cupped your face with his large hands and crashed your lips together in a heated, passionate kiss. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and his normally slicked back and styled hair fell into his eyes in thick waves.

You didn’t care about the sweat and the grime and the blood and the messy hair as you parted your lips and invited him in. Clinging to Veracruz’s collar, you tilted your head and saw stars as you tasted him on your tongue. It ignited something within both of you, and you clawed at his shirt at the same time Veracuz backed you up against the dresser.

Veracruz growled against your lips as he also tugged and yanked at your clothes, eager to get you naked for him. His cock twitched between your bodies as you gasped when you hit the dresser and found yourself pinned.

“V…” you sighed in between kisses as you pushed yourself onto the dresser. The wood of the furniture almost felt cold with how hot your skin burned in your need for him.

His eyes burned as he settled between your naked, parted legs. Veracruz purred your name as he hastily shoved his pants down so that he could feel your skin against his. And the spark of the bare touch ignited a blaze between the two of you that made goosebumps erupt all over both your bodies.

“You did good today, cariño,” the wall Veracruz kept around his heart cracked as he showered you with unexpected praise while he cupped your face. His thumb brushed a single quick stroke across your cheek that you would have missed had you not felt the intensity of the moment.

A heavy exhale escaped your lips as you felt like all the air was forced out of your body from the way your comandante looked at you, “Did you get ‘em, V?”

Veracruz’s face lit up in a wicked grin, “What do you think, cariño?” he answered your question with one of his own.

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and pulled him close so that his chest collided with your own, your legs caging his body in against the dresser that you were propped up on, “I think…” you purred as you hovered your lips over his, “Nothing stands in the way of you, Comandante.”

He smirked as he tightened his grip on you, “Especially when it comes to you, cariño…”

Before you could react to the words Veracruz usually left unspoken, he crashed his lips against yours and swallowed any thought that would have popped into your mind. He hastily devoured you as his hands roamed all over your body… squeezing your breasts, your sides, your ass.

Heat rose in the room, making both of your bodies glisten with sweat, but neither of you cared. You moaned into Veracruz’s mouth as you bucked your hips against his in a desperate and wordless plea. But, he didn’t need words to know what you wanted. He knew you well enough… and you knew him.

Veracruz shifted himself so that the tip of his cock poked at your entrance, but he paused for a moment, giving you the chance to slow down. Normally, the comandante liked to take his time with you, teasing you and easing you open so that he would slam into you with abandon. But today, you both were too desperate, too needy, too impatient to wait.

“Please…” your voice was just a whisper, but it was all he needed.

The comandante thrust into you with a loud grunt, filling you to the brim in one swift stroke. You threw your head back and screamed loudly as his thick cock stretched you out. Your legs trembled on either side of his body while you dug your nails into his back hard enough to draw blood. But, it only fueled Veracruz more.

He grabbed onto your hips and pounded into you over and over again. The dresser knocked against the wall with every thrust of his hips, but he barely heard it over the beautiful sounds you made. Veracruz growled as he murmured indistinct words in Spanish and bit down on your shoulder to muffle his own groans.

“Fuck!” you cried out in pleasure.

As he pounded into you, Veracruz looked up and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He almost didn’t recognize himself between the disheveled hair and the burning inferno in his eyes. Your silhouette fit perfectly in his arms, and the heat from your bodies steamed the mirror. The comandante resembled a panther in the midst of a hunt, in the midst of protecting what is his.

“Mira, cariño,” Veracruz growled as he grabbed your scalp and forced you to arch your back so that you could see yourself in the mirror, “Look how delicious you are when you take my cock so well like this,” he gave his hips a harsher thrust so that he buried himself even deeper inside you.

Your eyes were glazed over as you looked into the mirror. Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and you saw you breasts bounce in your reflection as Veracruz continued to fuck you. But what took our breath away was the look on his face. The way his jaw clenched and his eyes burned. But, among the passions, there was something else in his eyes too. Perhaps it was fear… fear that he could lose you, that one day he can’t keep you safe from the threats that constantly loomed in the shadows.

But those fears were quickly buried as Veracruz hit that sweet spot inside of you that made you scream even louder. Your eyes snapped shut as you felt your body tremble and your climax quickly approached.

“That’s it cariño,” he growled, “Cum for me.”

“V…” was all you managed to get out before your orgasm hit and you came hard, clenching your inner muscles around his cock as he thrust into you over and over again.

Veracruz watched as his cock disappear inside you and your warmth engulfed him, and it was only heightened when your climax hit and you cried out his name. Lost in the moment, he almost forgot about his own need for release until it snuck up on him. It was the first time in his life that ever happened. But, after a few more thrusts, Veracruz spilled himself inside you, riding out his own orgasm with your name on his lips.

Heavy breaths filled the room as Veracruz leaned forward, resting his sweaty forehead on the mirror. You kept your arms around him, holding him just as tightly as he held you. His cock stayed buried inside you as he used the dresser to support himself. The heat in the room almost made holding each other uncomfortable, but neither of you cared. The room could be on fire and neither of you would let go of the other.

After several moments, Veracruz pushed himself up to look into your eyes, and he waited in silence for you to blink your own eyes open. Both of you stared in silence for several moments before he crashed his lips against yours in a heated, passionate kiss once more.

The two of you went two more rounds in the shower and another in the bed before you finally collapsed down from pure exhaustion. You let out a deep, heavy breath as you curled yourself up in Veracruz’s arms and rested your head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart under your ear. You sighed contently as you closed your eyes and savored his warmth, his embrace, his own form of affection.

Perhaps that was enough for you.

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

Text

The Way You Miss Me | Joel Miller (Chapter Five)

You put your plan into action - in order to get closer to Joel, you have to get close to Ellie. The home truths that come out as a result aren't at all what you wanted though.

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 3K

Warnings | Angst and pining, mentions of death and origin story of readers scar which involves a knife but nothing else.

Authors Note | This one flew out of my fingers like lightening so I hope you enjoy it! Would love to hear your thoughts so leave comments, like or reblog or pop on over to my ask box if you fancy it! Also not me deadass writing in one of my favourite bands, shoutout to any of my fellow elder emo's out there. The shame of the outbreak is that these guys never got to jam along to Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge or Misery Business..... This fic is actually loosely based on an All Time Low song from their new album, if you wanted to listen you can find it here - listen and watch out for nods to the lyrics in the dialogue here!

It had been a week since the awkward encounter at the bar with Joel and you were frustrated that you hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with him. You’d been watching him from afar, he’d been in the stables one day getting himself assigned a horse so that he could start heading out on patrol. He’d spent an evening at The Tipsy Bison with Tommy, the only acknowledgement was a swift nod of his head towards the table you shared with your father but that was only because Tommy had hit him on the arm, mouthing for him not to be rude. You’d watched him walk down the street past your home a few times, watching from the window and wishing it had been your home he was coming to. The one constant in all of it? The little girl. Ellie was attached to him like a barnacle to a whale, he was never without her, and you’d bet your bottom dollar (If you had any) that the key to getting closer to Joel was that little girl.

“Can I ask you a question?” You asked Tommy one day whilst you were helping him repair some fencing around the outer wall.

“You just did, but sure thing Sunshine.”

“Do you know much about Ellie?” Your tried to keep your tone as nonchalant as possible, but the grin on Tommy’s face suggested he knew exactly where you were going with this.

“I’ve gotta be honest Joel’s kept her to himself mostly,” He shrugged, picking up his hammer to beat some nails into the wood you were holding still for him, “She’s a firecracker, swears like a sailor and is the only person I’ve ever seen make Joel laugh since the world went to shit.”

You hummed in understanding, “You know about the things she likes to do?”

“I think you’re treading a very thin line here.” He warned.

“I’m not trying to do anything Tommy,” You spoke defensively, “She follows him around like a lost puppy, I’ve not seen her make any friends, I just wanted to try and do something nice for her to make her feel welcome.”

Tommy sighed, “Space,” He replied simply, “Joel said she liked space, wanted to be an astronaut or something like that, and she's attached to that Walkman like it's her lifeline,” He was focusing on not hitting his fingers with the hammer, “Maria actually put aside a box of things she thought she might like, with the baby she hasn’t had time to take it over, but maybe if you drop back with me later you can drop it off for us?”

“Sounds good,” You responded, “Will he be there?”

Tommy smirked, “No, he’s on evening patrol on the fence tonight so nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried Tommy.”

“Sure, that’s why your nails are bitten down and you’ve been chewing at your lips since he arrived,” Your eyes widened, he was always the more astute of the brothers, “You used to do that before, when you were worried about things.”

“Well like I said, I’m not worried about anything.” You mumbled.

“Whatever you say, Sunshine,” He winked at you, “I finished hammering that about five minutes ago, you can let go now.”

***

The box was heavy in your arms – you silently cursed Maria for filling it up so much, what was even in here? You could see a few books on the top and an empty notepad and there was some material at the bottom that could only be clothing. You thanked the Gods for not allowing the bottom to drop out of it, setting it down on the porch before knocking on the door of the house Tommy had pointed at when you were walking back to his.

It took a while for someone to answer, but the door was eventually ripped open, and Ellie was stood in front of you, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh hey,” She greeted, “Joel’s not here.”

“Lucky me, because I’m actually here to see you,” You smiled, tapping the cardboard box on the floor with your foot, “Maria sent me over with a few things she thought you might like.”

Ellie bent down to pick it up but you beat her to it, “It’s heavy, let me bring it inside for you.”

She smiled and moved in the doorway to let you pass. The inside of their home was exactly as you’d imagine it to be, it wasn’t that much different to how yours had been when you moved in. Simple and bare save for the few pieces of furniture, a coffee mug was sat on the table near the kitchen – if Joel was half he man he had been before that would be his, half full of coffee that he’d drunk before leaving for patrol.

“You can set it down on the table.” Ellie directed, which you did, taking hold of the coffee cup to find it was exactly how you’d imagined, half full of coffee which was still slightly warm, Joel had left recently.

You watched as Ellie started going through the box, taking out the books to read the back of them before setting them down and investigating the clothes, seemingly happy with what Maria had chosen.

“I hope you don’t mind but I brought you something too,” You spoke quietly, fishing around in your jacket pocket before pulling out a CD, “I don’t know if it’s your sort of music, but I’ve seen you with your Walkman around town and though you’d like something different to listen to.”

She took the CD gratefully, “Foo Fighters, what kinda name is that?”

You giggled, “You know they were actually pretty good, I listened to them all the time before all this, trust me.”

“You sure you don’t wanna keep it?” Ellie asked, trying to pass it back to you.

“I don’t have anything to listen to it on, so it’s all yours, I wanna know what you think of it though.” You gave her a smile and a wink.

“Thanks,” She said, “This is actually super cool.”

You knew you couldn’t linger too long here; you didn’t want to outstay your welcome and make Ellie feel uncomfortable. You wanted to do something nice for her so she would tell Joel. Then you’d be front and center in his mind. He might even thank you himself and surely that meant opening a conversation with him. Baby steps, you kept telling yourself.

“You’re welcome,” You reached out and squeezed her shoulder, “And if you ever need anything else you can always ask me, I know how hard it can be to settle here after being… out there.”

Ellie nodded at you, and you excused yourself, heading home and hoping you’d planted a big enough seed to grow.

***

The next morning, as Joel was setting breakfast on the table for Ellie before she went to school, the seed started to bloom.

“Your girlfriend came round last night.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know that woman you knew from before, the one we met at the bar?”

“Ellie, she ain’t my girlfriend,” Ellie shrugged at Joel’s answer, shoveling eggs into her mouth, “What was she doin’ here?”

“Bought some box of stuff Maria set aside for me,” She said with her mouth full, earning a glare from Joel at her table manners, “She bought me this awesome CD as well, did you ever hear of the Foo Fighters?”

Joel nodded, trying not to remember that the only reason he did was because you had insisted on keeping that damn CD in his truck – it had been the background noise to most of your evening escapades when you couldn’t be in his bed. It wasn’t his particular cup of tea, but he had always liked watching you out of the corner of his eye as he drove you to your spot, tapping your fingers on the side of the car and singing along when the moment took you.

“Well, I hope you said thank you.” Joel grumbled, drinking the last of his coffee, “Now come on, you’ll be late.”

As Joel stood on the porch and watched Ellie walk down the street to school he cursed you. Cursed you for being the sweet little girl he always remembered and making Ellie happy, because now he’d have to seek you out and thank you himself. Running a hand over his face he resolved to do it today, better to get it over with instead of dwelling on things.

***

You were bent over the bench in the tool shed taking inventory when a knock at the door pulled you from your counting. Tommy had asked you to take stock of what materials were left after you’d repaired the fence the previous day and although it was giving you a headache it was distracting work, having to concentrate on something that wasn’t Joel.

“Come in!” You called, not looking up from the pile of nails you were counting, you scribbled the number you’d already counted to on a slip of paper, dropping the rest back in the tub to continue counting later.

Turning around, Joel was leant on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. In the daylight and up close he was just as devastating as he’d been all those years ago. You silently willed the giddy feeling in your bones to go away.

“Not interrupting anything am I?” He asked, nodding his head towards the bench.

“Not at all, it’s a welcome break actually, only so many nails you can count before you go insane,” You laughed, hoping he would do the same, but his face was as stoic as ever, “Do you need something?”

He let out a sigh, “I just wanted to say thank you for what you did for Ellie yesterday, she’s been through a lot, and this is an adjustment to say the least, so thank you.”

You smiled at him, “You’re welcome,” you replied simply, “I’ve seen her wandering around with that Walkman attached to her so figured she could use something new to listen to,” You started rambling now, “I can’t even believe I managed to find it, it was just hanging out in some old store we stumbled through a few years back and all I could think about what how we used to listen to it in your truck when you’d….” Your eyes went wide as you stopped yourself from finishing your sentence, this wasn’t how you wanted this to go, “Sorry.” You mumbled, looking down from his eyes to your fingers where you set to work worrying at a bit of loose skin.

“It’s alright,” He spoke, “If I’m bein’ honest it’s exactly what I thought about when she showed me last night.”

“Oh,” You exclaimed, snapping your eyes up to him, “Have you thought about me much?”

“Darlin’,” He spoke softly, “It’s best not to talk about it, I don’t want to upset you.”

You nodded, “That means no then right?” You replied, “Because if you had you would have said because that would have made me happy, saying you don’t want to upset me means you didn’t.”

“It was easier that way,” He admitted softly, “Convincing myself you were gone.”

“Wish I could say the same,” You shrugged, “Was there anyone else?”

You didn’t know where all this was coming from and you were half expecting him to tell you to shut your mouth and mind your own business, but to your surprise he answered, “There was one woman, her name was Tess, it wasn’t…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words, “It just made sense, we ran in the same circle, and I guess we just helped distract each other sometimes.”

“Understandable.” You replied simply, itching to get yourself out of the conversation now.

“What about you, was there anyone else?”

You laughed, “Travelling across country trying to keep my dad alive isn’t really conducive to that sort of thing, so no Joel, there was no-one else,” He nodded in understanding but didn’t move to speak again, “I should really get back to this.” You mused, pointing to the bench.

“Of course, sorry for takin’ up your time, and thank you again, Ellie really did appreciate it.”

Joel left without another word, closing the door quietly behind him and all the frustration you’d felt came tumbling out. Angry tears pricked at your eyes at your stupidity that he’d have thought about you at all. You were only ever the stupid little girl with her stupid little crush and the moment he had the opportunity to forget you he did. Of course he did. You wiped at your cheeks furiously, willing your emotions to get themselves in check so you could go back to work, but for the rest of the day you’d catch yourself in your melancholy, tears threatening to fall and your mind completely distracted. This was not how this was supposed to go at all.

***

“You should have seen his face!” Your father roared at the table, “White as a ghost when I woke up.”

You weren’t sure how you’d made it here but you were sat at a table in The Tipsy Bison with your father and Tommy, along with Joel and Ellie, whilst your father recounted stories of your survival, telling them with an enthusiasm that would rival a war veteran speaking about their time in the forces. He was currently going through the motions of explaining how you’d made it to Jackson and how he thought Tommy was going to pass out when he realized it was the both of you he’d rescued.

You’d mostly kept quiet, only popping into the conversation to correct him when he got something wrong. Otherwise you kept your focus on the glass of whiskey in front of you that Tommy was keeping topped up with the bottle he’d bought from the bar for you all.

“How’d you get that scar on your face?” You looked up at Ellie, everyone else looking at her in horror for being so blunt.

“Ellie, don’t be so nosey.” Joel chastised her.

“It’s alright,” You shrugged, “It’s pretty lame actually, we’d shut ourselves in a house a few years ago trying to hide from a pack of infected, not realizing someone else had the same idea. I was looking out the window to see if we had a clear route out when I heard someone shuffling behind me. I turned around and by the time I realized what was happening he’d slashed the knife on my face.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Ellie!” Both Tommy and Joel burst out at the same time.

You chuckled, realizing you probably shouldn’t encourage her questions, but replied anyway, “In a way I guess I did, we had a bit of a struggle and he tripped and fell out of the window, it was a tall building so yeah, he died.”

“That’s cool.”

You shrugged, looking around the table to see that everyone was willing the conversation to move elsewhere, you were itching to know more about how Joel and Ellie had come to be together aside from the snippets Tommy had told you, but you didn’t think this would be the right place to ask. Instead, you fished a cigarette out of your jacket pocket, shoving it between your lips and excusing yourself.

You were halfway through it, leaning against the railing outside the bar when you felt someone come up behind you and lean themselves down next to you, “Never thought I’d see the day when you turned to those.”

“Well, I’m not surprised if you spent the last twenty years convincing yourself I was dead,” You shrugged at Joel, as always, alcohol emboldening your tone, “I’ve gotta die of something and I’d rather these than being torn apart limb from limb or sprouting mushrooms from my face.” You punctuated the end of your sentence with a long drag of your smoke, blowing it out into the cool night.

“How do you always do that?” He asked.

“Do what?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Make anything seem funny,” He offered, “The world’s gone to shit, everyone we’ve ever really cared for is dead and yet here you are, joking like we’re back to the days before.”

“It’s the only way I don’t focus on all the shitty things I’ve done to get here.”

It was silent between you for a moment. You could have sworn you saw Joel move his hand as if he was going to place it reassuringly on your arm like he always did but he didn’t, even if your head was screaming at him to do it, just to breech the barrier he had up between the two of you.

“Can I say something?” You asked after a moment.

He nodded, “I don’t want to step out of line, but I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about Sarah,” You could see him physically tense next to you, “You don’t have to tell me what happened, in fact, it’s probably best you don’t but… I liked her Joel; she was a good kid and she didn’t deserve what happened to her and I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I hate the way you miss me.” He mumbled.

You looked him dead in the eye for the first time, “I don’t hate the way I miss you,” You spoke honestly, “I think it’s the only thing that kept me alive sometimes, thinking about the chance to see you again, hold your hand or kiss you.”

He sighed, “You can’t stand there and say that,” He spoke roughly, “With your big eyes beggin’ me to be the man you deserve, I couldn’t be that before all of this and I certainly can’t be that for you now,” and then finally, “We can’t keep doin’ this.”

You nodded, stubbing out your cigarette and throwing it to the ground in front of the bar, “Understood,” You spoke, giving him a final glance, “Goodnight Joel.”

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#Joel Miller #Pedro Pascal #The Last Of Us #The Last Of us HBO #Joel Miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #the last of us fanfiction #Joel Miller Pedro Pascal #TWYMM

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morallyinept · 6 months

Text

A full transcribe of JAVI GUTIERREZ'S dialogue/lines from the film THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT.

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

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

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

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

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

Of course.

__________________

Mr Cage, I’m-

Javi.

I’m not sure I understand.

I think so.

I am Javi.

__________________

It was fine. Normal. No big deal.

He was incredible. But also like, super cool. He was taller than I imagined because they say actors are pretty short.

No.

He was… just right.

No, we didn’t bring it up. I didn't bring it up. It wasn’t the right time.

I don’t know, Gabriela, maybe I am living in a fantasy world. I mean, look who we are talking about here, the man is a legend!

__________________

Hi.

Huh?

Oh no, I’m sorry, I thought that… did you say? No, I… Oh, never mind. Yeah, so along those same lines, I was wondering, and it’s totally okay if you haven’t, but I was just wondering if you had a chance to read my screenplay?

Mr Cage, this is Ms. Gabriela Lucchesi. She runs all of our agricultural operations. And this is uh, my cousin. Lucas Gutierrez.

What? What do you mean “retired”?

__________________

Gabriela said you are really excited about the cliffs.

Oh, shit! Shit!

We must go now!

Faster!

The General!

The General! The General forbade me to see his daughter Matilda. But we defied his orders! And now, he wants to end my life. Can’t you see him?

Stanislavski? Is he part of the resistance?

I’m sorry, but you can’t quit acting! You can’t!

Whether you like it or not, you have a gift. And that gift brings light and joy to an increasingly dark and broken world!

And to turn your back on that gift, is to turn your back on the entire human race

I’m afraid so.

If we don’t go now, they will fucking kill us! These people smell blood and they come running. They are almost to the edge of the forest. I can hear them! And Matilda, she is waiting down the coast. We have to go now! We have to jump!

I’ve always loved her.

Oh, shit!

__________________

Are you two close?

How did you meet Olivia?

Beautiful film.

So what happened?

No. There's one woman, but uh… sometimes circumstances get in the way of love. And that's just the way it is. Anyway, Mr Cage, what is your favourite movie?

Number one, Face Off.

Number two, let me think… uh. The Cabinet of Dr Caligari.

__________________

It’s hard, like you said, 100 plus years of rich cinema.

Paddington 2.

I cried through the entire thing. It made me want to be a better man.

I fucking told you.

__________________

Truth, or dare, Nick?

Did you hate my screenplay? It’s okay if you did. I just need to know.

I sent it to your agent. He was supposed to give it to you.

Now? Like, right now?

I sent it.

No. Honestly I’m too nervous. My heart is beating so fast. I think I need to go to bed.

__________________

I just want to thank you all for coming tonight. It means more to me than you can know. And I would like to tell a story. A few years ago, my relationship with my father had deteriorated to the point where we were no longer speaking. He could be extremely difficult, my father. And to be fair, maybe I am not that much better. Haha. But when he got sick, I realised I didn’t want to lose him before we could repair our broken relationship.

But I didn’t know how. And then one day, about a week before he died… it happened. A miracle. I looked up and I saw on a tiny little hospital TV… Guarding Tess. We disagreed about literally everything, my father and I. Except for this movie. We both loved it. We would quote it back and forth. In a way, my father was Tess. The former first lady, and I was Doug Chesnic, the secret service agent charged with taking care of him. That movie brought us together. So, on behalf of my late father and myself, I want to thank you.

I bet you didn’t know Doug Chesnic could have such an impact on someone.

Well, thank you for your sacrifice. It was extraordinary.

So, does that mean you want to be in it?

I say, yes. Yes.

__________________

Mr Cage.

Nick. I realised that if we are going to create a work of art, we can’t just sit and stare at a screen. We have to open our minds to the infinite possibilities of what the cosmos has to offer.

Divine inspiration. LSD.

So, I was thinking that maybe our movie would be character-driven.

Right. Or like big explosions.

And work on multiple levels.

And maybe it's just the drugs talking, but what if we had, like a big drug scene?

Fuck, man (In Spanish)

It’s going to be so fucking good! But like, what's it about?

__________________

In terms of genre, I-I like comedies. But not when it’s just two people sitting around, talking.

Oh.

Nick. Listen. You know what I was thinking? Maybe we could have, like a paranoid, thriller-y angle.

Right. Right. Wait, have they been watching us?

Fuck! Did you see that? They just looked over at us.

No, no. Maybe it was just a coincidence. I will look again. Are you ready?

No, that’s how you spook a bear.

A fake laugh? Okay, good.

Oh, no.

__________________

Do you see them?

Here. Use me as a human stool. Do it!

I have a very big head. I’m not gonna make it, am I? Will you tell Gabriela I will miss her?

No. It’s okay. You go live a good life.

But then, we will both die, and I could never live with myself after that, so you let go! You let go!

Goodbye, Nicolas Cage.

I’ll never forget you. Now you get the hell out of here, you go!

Mr Cage?

Hey.

Oh. Yeah… turns out we could have just walked around.

Whatever.

There they are!

__________________

Ow! Ow!

You have to drive on acid, you are a better driver than me.

Because I read that you did all of your own driving stunts in Gone in 60 Seconds.

The wheelies are amazing. Now drive the car! They’re coming, let’s go!

Oh! Holy shit!

Holy shit!

No, Nick. I have an idea. Maybe this movie… maybe it’s about this. About us. Our relationship.

__________________

You want me to let you in there, huh?

Regardless of what the consequences are? Because once you go in there… it could change the way you feel about me. Our entire relationship could change, Nick Cage.

Is it too much?

I know, I am sorry if it is weird.

The Rock.

Con Air. Heh.

No, it's not creepy.

Mandy is a masterpiece.

Of course they are real.

Made especially for the film.

Just look at the guns.

Hmm. About 6,000.

I am sorry, Mr Cage, but this is not for sale.

__________________

Hold on, hold on. Your daughter gets kidnapped?

But who kidnaps her?

The barrel is definitely not warped. Who kidnaps her?

It feels like a completely different movie.

And then what? The finale is about two men saving the girl? That’s terrible.

Give me the gun. You know the key to shooting well? Controlling your breath. Do you know how to control your breath, Nick? Your heart. Your heart must be still. At peace. My heart… is not still. My heart is not at peace. Do you know why?

Because you’re lying to me.

Don’t fucking lie to me.

Don’t fucking lie to me!

I know why you keep on talking about this kidnapped girl. You feel guilty about your relationship with your own daughter.

You are blocked. Creatively. Because you feel guilty about what kind of father you have been.

Pull!

__________________

Nick, I need you to come with me.

I’m sorry to have to take this step, Nick.

No, it is the only option.

What? There’s no need to call them. They are here.

Unfortunately, I can’t do that. You left me no choice!

Yes. Creatively.

No, physically he is tremendous. I mean, he will probably outlive us all.

Ha!

Look, I have grown to care very deeply about your father. And ex-husband. We are working on a movie together. A beautiful character-driven, adult drama. But, he has so many unresolved issues with you, that it is beginning to bleed into the work in a negative way. Isn’t that right, Nick?

Well, you see he has so many regrets.

Well, I had a cat die in the kitchen. And my grandmother was never able to get rid of the smell. I am very sorry for the inconvenience, but this is an emergency. Have lunch with us. And let him say what he has to say. Don’t you think that is a good idea, Nick?

__________________

Wow. That was fucking pathetic.

No, no, no. I am honestly speechless.

Shit. I think we have more work than I realised, but this is good. This is very good. This is a good first step.

Gracias.

__________________

(In Spanish) Well, Lucas. What was so urgent you came all the way up here?

(In Spanish) Sergio Baldassari? The head of the Calabero crime family? I thought he was dead?

(In Spanish) You’re the boss. It’s your call.

(In Spanish) Wait. The election? That means you… You kidnapped Delgado’s daughter.

(In Spanish) What? Who’s being betrayed?

(In Spanish) Lucas, what's wrong? What does any of this have to do with me?

Oh, bullshit.

(In Spanish) What? No. Lucas, no. I had no idea.

(In Spanish) Lucas. Calm down! Calm down!

(In Spanish) Lucas, please don't do this. I swear to God, I didn’t know. No! No! No! No! No!

__________________

Hi.

I’m sorry. I should have asked you before bringing them down.

And I was thinking maybe a kidnapping would work. Our movie would start out as a beautiful character piece, and then slowly change into a more thrilling…

Would you like to drive out to the cliffs? Clear our heads and think through the third act?

__________________

So…

Yeah.

These? No. I’ve had these.

I don’t wear them very much. I don’t think they're really me.

Do you wanna try them on? I think they would look amazing to you.

Oh, wow! Those look incredible on you.

Yeah.

Like, permanently?

Okay.

I totally agree. It’s just… easy.

Well… I guess it’s time to figure out how this thing ends.

__________________

Nick… I meant what I said back there. Which is why this really hurts.

I’m sorry, Nick.

Wait. You were gonna kill me? And are those my golden guns?

Why the fuck would you kill me?

My cousin Lucas is the head of the organisation!

The whole world thinks I run it. When my father died, Lucas took over. He forced me to be the figurehead.

You don’t just leave this world, Nick. You, and everyone you care about, is in constant danger. Why do you think I cannot be with Gabriela?

Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t be with Gabriela because that would put a target on her back. Wait, you seriously didn't realise that we liked each other?

You're in the CIA!

No way. You go first.

I don’t wanna kill you.

I fucking love you!

It’s my cousin. He must've known I wouldn't kill you.

__________________

Faster!

Okay. You just run out there. You get the truck. You come back and get me. I will keep a lookout.

I love that plan. I do. But, you are a faster runner than me, even in subpar footwear. I saw how fast you were in National Treasure.

Not according to the Making Of featurette.

Wait! So you’re gonna go? I’m going with you.

There they are!

__________________

He’s coming up on us.

On your left! On your left!

Holy shit!

Hit the brakes! Hit the brakes! He’ll hit the back of the truck.

Yes it will, yes it will! Just do it, do it, do it, do it!

Don’t worry, he’s totally passed out.

Fuck!

I’m okay. Are you okay?

__________________

There are more soldiers coming. We have to go.

His people could still be in the area. We have to go.

I have a place. Let’s go. Come, come. Come now.

I bought this house 10 years ago for a situation just like this. It has everything we need. Food, passports, materials for disguise. We’ll be safe for the night.

Olivia. I promise you will get your daughter back.

__________________

The girls are likely being held in my cousin’s compound. It is a monastery that they use as a cover, but it is a fortress. It is impenetrable. There are walls on every side.

Tunnels. But with metal doors that only open from the inside. Even if it weren’t for all of the armed guards, it is impossible to get in.

We are going to walk straight in through the front gate.

Lucas is trying to form an alliance with Sergio Baldassari, the head of the Calabero crime family.

Exactly. And since no-one has seen him, no-one knows exactly what he looks like. Olivia. Nick says that you were an incredible makeup artist when you met. So, with some prosthetics and a little makeup…

__________________

Wait. Where is Nick?

He will never make it out if there alive.

Hey!

Shit, come on. Nick, go. Go!

Oh, shit!

Olivia, hand me the guns. They’re right in there.

Okay, stop the truck. I will slow them down.

Yes! You are two kilometres from the embassy. If I slow them down you will all make it.

No!

I'm never going to have any kind of a life unless I stand up to my cousin! I need this. Now, go. Go!

You stayed.

__________________

Nick.

Oh, no, I couldn't watch. I was, uh… I was too nervous. How did it play?

Really? Oh, wow!

This is… Nick. Thank you.

Do you wanna ride to the party with me? They want to interview us. Uh, Vanity Fair.

__________________

DELETED SCENE:

I just want you to enjoy yourself, have fun. You will have the rest of the day to unwind, tomorrow to explore. And the big party on Sunday.

N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E.2

Colon. Book of Secrets. All caps.

I mean, I can change it, if you want.

I should have changed it. I apologise.

You are right, why would I? It is a wonderful film and a phenomenal password.

Welcome to Mallorca, Mr Cage.

__________________

DELETED SCENE:

Okay. You ready?

What do you say we cut the chit chat, A-hole!

Yes, I'm sorry.

What do you say we cut the chit chat, A-hole?

What do you say we cut the chit chat, A-hole!

We cut the chit chat, A-hole!

Chit chat, A-hole!

A-hole!

What do you say, what do you-what do you say- fuck, Javi! What do you say-what do you say-what do you say we cut the chit chat, A-Hole!

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#javi gutierrez #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #PPCU #javi guttierrez tuwomt #tuwomt #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi g #javi g dialogue

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elialys · 1 month

Note

Per your lovely, lovely flawed show tag, I am curious what you think the flaws of Fringe are?

I’m sorry it took me so long to answer, I got distracted!

Fringe definitely had its share of flaws. I won’t even address the ones that can “be excused” by the fact that it was a show made before/early 2010s in terms of representations/inclusions, because you know, it is what it is.

I think my biggest ‘regret’/annoyance has always been the writers’ tendency to…shove traumas under a rug, or to not properly (if at all) talk about the consequences of some events that happened. I get that they had to make the characters go through a lot of drama because that’s the point of stories, especially on TV shows that have over 20 episodes per season, but the characters suffered through some terrible stuff time and time again, and they were just FINE. And it’s not like they didn’t know how to do it!

I’ve always loved the first few episodes of season 2 because they showed recovery. Olivia had a bad car accident, then she had to kill “Charlie”, and it took her time to get better from all of that, not just physically but emotionally, too. And yet, over and over again after that, she goes through horrible things and there’s…almost nothing? Like, I adore Marionette, I think it’s a brilliant episode through & through, but I still can’t believe Olivia went through all the shit she went through Over There (and coming back) and didn’t have some serious PTSD, on top of EVERYTHING ELSE she’d already gone through (aka why I wrote Shivered Bones). Peter too was barely allowed to mention what Walter did to him after he came back at the end of season 2, barely ever allowed to mention what Altlivia did to him either, except in some awkward bits of dialogue (I will discuss Peter’s character a bit more later).

Also, the whole REWRITING THE TIMELINE at the end of season 3?? Biggest cop-out. I mean, I’ve never hid the fact that any kind of ‘amnesia’ plot is honestly one of my LEAST favorite tropes, in anything. From the moment that season started airing and Peter reappeared being a complete stranger, I just disliked that so much on principle. But what will always pain me is how by doing so, the writers completely erased not just Peter but THE FIRST THREE SEASONS.

Like, poof, gone.

(adding a 'keep reading' because this is long 😂)

Conveniently, it erased Baby!Henry in the process, which the writers might have felt would be too much of an issue? Personally I would have loved to see that unfold. I know I’ve discussed this before on this blog, probably more than once, but they could have kept SO MUCH of season 4 the way it was, as far as the Bridge was concerned, could have come up with a brand new Vilain to do all the “NEW UNIVERSE” stuff Bell/Jones tried to do, while our core characters had to deal with the consequences of everything that happened in season 3 (including Peter being a dad, WITHOUT trying to force a stupid ‘love triangle’ down our throats, thank you). It would have made for great, impactful family drama, because who are we kidding. Anyone who loves Fringe typically loves it because it is such an emotional, family drama. So yes, I will forever mourn the universe(s) we had season 1-3, and endlessly daydream about what could have been.

Now let me talk about Peter Bishop, it’s been a hot minute. Peter Bishop, who was hated basically the entire time the show was airing, and still now is strongly disliked by a lot of viewers, and honestly, I can’t blame them? I’ve had over a decade to analyze his character, have spent hundreds of hours writing stories from his POV, explaining his traumas & mistakes, have written giant meta posts about him back in the days to explain his behavior, so I’m not exactly objective, but I’m also very honest about how flawed his character is. Not (just) as a human being, which is normal because humans are flawed. I mean, he’s flawed in the way the writers used him/wrote him.

He’s probably the most inconsistent of all the characters. He’s the character who suffered the most from the ‘let’s make this person act out a certain way to make sure it fits our plot’ syndrome. I will never forgive the writers for how…clueless (for lack of a better word), they wrote Peter in early season 3 during the Switch. Yes, Peter was traumatized as a kid, yes he was in love, yes yes, I know all of that, I’ve written endlessly about it to explain his cluelessness so I know.

Still, Peter should have figured it out. Peter as we saw him in season 1 and 2, especially second half of season 2, would have figured out. He figured out BY HIMSELF that he was from another universe, ‘just’ from his dad and Olivia’s weird behaviors and the fact that he didn’t go ‘POOF’ on that bridge in 2x18. Peter went to another universe, he met Olivia’s alternate. He’d just spent weeks running from his life, trying to accept the fact that he was lied to all of his life. At best, he was suspicious, at worst, he was paranoid (as was mentioned in 2x20 in Northwest Passage). Literally 3 days after he gets to THAT OTHER UNIVERSE, and 3 hours after meeting Olivia’s doppelganger, Olivia ‘I hide from my own emotions’ Dunham comes tell him he belongs with her and smooches him, so he goes home. Yet the writers want me to believe Peter would not have still been reeling from EVERYTHING that just happened in his life, and not be a bit on edge?

Like, ‘damn, the woman I love and have come to know quite well these past 2 years is suddenly SO DIFFERENT? ALMOST LIKE SHE’S ANOTHER PERSON? A BIT LIKE THAT ALTERNATE VERSION OF HER I MET 48H AGO, THAT’S NOT A COINCIDENCE AT ALL’. But nope, Peter just accepts it, EVERY CHARACTER on that side just accepts it, when Lincoln and Charlie keep on looking at our Olivia like “Is this chick for real? WHAT IF THEY SWITCHED THEM?”

I’m forever frustrated. It just doesn’t feel believable to me, never has. It feels like the writers went “we want everyone, and especially Peter, to be clueless the entire time so we can write our drama the way we planned it.” And that’s a shame, honestly, because that whole damn arc is already so good as it is. But it would been even better if Peter HAD figured it out, if he’d kept on pretending for a bit, if HE’D conned Altlivia the way she conned him. Like I mentioned before, Olivia already went through so much trauma during the Switch, they could have found ways to make her miserable upon coming back, without Peter having slept with her alternate for a few weeks—and the knowledge that he didn’t realize what was going on. More daydreaming on my part about what could have been.

I could go on when it comes to the way they wrote Peter honestly. The whole “maybe Peter has feelings for the other Olivia” crap in the second half of s3, and “the universe that will survive depends on which Olivia Peter chooses”, excuse me??? Altlivia basically abused him??? She used him in so many ways, including sexually. She wasn’t even herself, she was pretending, playing him the whole time. HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO HAVE FEELINGS EXCEPT A LOT OF SELF-LOATHING AND MORE UNRESOLVED TRAUMA?

Anyway, I think you get my vibe and why I’ll forever be sad/mad about this. As a writer & storyteller myself, one of my strengths and favorite aspects of writing is figuring out the characters’ motivations, what drives them, and how it makes them behave. Peter’s character is just…wobbly, during those arcs. He’s inconsistent from plotline to plotline, and it feels off to me. He’s a lot more true and consistent to how I understand him in season 4, but in season 3, he’s a hot mess, meant as a plot device more than anything else, and that makes me sad. Characters are what drive stories and shape the plot, not the other way around. So yeah, I don’t blame people for always having such strong opinions/dislikes where Peter is concerned.

I could come up with more things, but this is already long enough 😂 In case that wasn’t clear, those flaws don’t stop me from having the deepest love for this show. What it did well, it did extremely well, and even all those years later, I still cry rewatching it, because the emotions were real. They're still real.

Plus it gave me Olivia Dunham, so really, it wins just for that.

#fringe #fringe meta #kinda 😂#also called 'ambre is ranting at 13 year old plotlines that made no sense'#meta

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villainsandcivilians · 5 months

Note

your writing is so good! here’s a request with the dialogue prompts:

something hurt/comfort with prompts 13 & 14

thanks!

Thank you, I hope you enjoy! (Also I’m alive and writing again!)

Warnings; blood, unconsciousness, head injury

Masterlist

Just a reminder that this is not a prompt and requests are open

Villain’s mind was in turmoil. Half of the time their heart was in their throat, the rest they were filled with a murderous rage that came on so suddenly that it was a struggle not to let their power explode out of them like a tornado. Civilian – limp, unconscious, bloodied Civilian – was cradled against their chest, arms hanging uselessly by their sides whilst Villain ran as best they could to get back to their base in time. Their heart twisted at the cruelty of it all. Villain knew they would have still been walking with these injuries, in a lot of pain but conscious and feral enough to carry on fighting. But Civilian? Civilian, who had never seen a day of violence in their life was passed out in Villain’s arms. Villain bared their teeth in a snarl. When they found out who was responsible for this, there would be hell to pay.

Their step faltered as they glanced down at Civilian, a drying track of blood mapping a path from their nose to their chin, their chapped lips parted. Villain forced their hands to remain steady, even as they wanted to shake with rage. The worst part was that in some way, this was their fault. The only reason anyone would attack Civilian was to get to Villain, especially after they made it clear that Civilian was off limits. Villain had begun making a mental list of people to interrogate without really realising they were doing it. They gritted their teeth and carried on running.

Villain didn’t dare think about how much time it had taken them to get back to their base, the elevator ride to their quarters too long and too silent. Their personal doctor was already on their way, meaning Villain just had to get Civilian situated and do a preliminary check of their injuries in time for their arrival. Villain bolted out of the lift before the doors were fully open, slamming their hand onto the scanner and cursing the device throughout the few seconds it took to register their identity. They ran straight into their living room, heedless of the blood and dirt that was doubtless being ground into the carpet with every step.

Without putting Civilian down, Villain pulled several cushions onto the floor and out of the way, and arranged the rest to support Civilian’s head. Villain ever so gently lifted Civilian’s body onto the sofa and laid them down, sharp eyes monitoring their every movement. Villain carefully cupped their hands around Civilian’s head to keep it steady. Their temple was bloody and starting to bruise a horrible purple colour. Villain swallowed, two fingertips pressed against Civilian’s weak pulse. Villain didn’t know how long their partner had been laying there, how long they had been unconscious. If they didn’t wake up soon –

A shot of adrenalin pumped through Villain’s veins and their muscles tensed in an instant as Civilian jolted, then gasped for air. Their eyes flew open and darted around the room frantically, trying to place themselves. Villain was there immediately.

“Sweetheart, it’s alright, I’m here. I’m right here with you, I’ve got you.” Villain’s heart twisted at the frightened look in their lover’s eyes as they finally looked up. “That’s right, just look at me. You’re safe here, we’re home now. You don’t need worry.” Civilian swallowed harshly.

“Wh-what happened?” It was a struggle for Villain not to grit their teeth.

“I don’t know yet sweetheart, but I will. I promise you that.” Civilian tried to nod but stopped when a harsh pain flooded their skull. They went to say something but the words came out mumbled, yet still they pushed themselves to sit up. Villain saw the exact moment the wave of nausea passed through them, knew how they felt as the room spun around them and their head suddenly felt like it was attached to a load of bricks. Villain caught them before they had time to reel and fall.

“Woah, woah. I know, darling, believe me I know. Just lean back… that’s it. There you go, well done. I’m right here, you’ll be okay.” Villain helped Civilian lay down again as they spoke, moving to rub gentle circles on their shoulder.

The door went in the background and Villain released a breath; the doctor had finally arrived. They rushed in wearing a combination of pyjamas, a dressing gown and polished black loafers, a leather briefcase tucked under one arm. If the situation had been less serious, Villain might have laughed. Villain moved a side to let the doctor tend to Civilian, explaining everything to them in quiet tones. Villain doubted if Civilian would remember any of this by the time they were recovered, but it served to calm them in the moment.

“You’re doing so well,” Villain murmured as the doctor finally stood back, the pair sharing a nod.

“Don’t leave them alone,” the doctor advised, “you know the drill. Falling asleep and not responding when you try to wake them is a no-go, so is any vomiting. Call me if anything happens.” They fixed Villain with a hard look, as if to convince them that Civilian needed more care than they normally afforded themselves. Villain scoffed. They might have had little care for their own health and wellbeing, but the same was not true for Civilian. The doctor must have seen this in Villain’s response, for they nodded once more before taking their leave.

Satisfied that the door was locked and Civilian was no longer in a critical condition, Villain settled down to spend the night by their side. They left only one time to get Civilian their most comfortable blanket, spending the rest of the night wide awake and holding Civilian’s hand.

Tag list - @booberryfun @artshit208 @talkingsperm @writing-on-the-wahl @call-it-what-you-want-people @yulanlavender @watercolorfreckles @classicplesiosaur @cozy-atmos @insanedreamer7905

#villain x civilian #villains and civilians #civilians #original writing #villain and civilian #fluff #hero and villain community #villain #writing on tumblr #creative writing

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skeletonsslut · 2 years

Text

say it

warnings: poorly written and not proofread, dialogue heavy, banter, implied smut

pairings: matt murdock x gn!reader

summary: you force matt to dress up with you for halloween.

notes: i got this idea and i had to write it it’s so cute

“Matt! Come on!” You drag out, holding up the black costume as he shakes his head. He didn’t need eyesight to know what you were holding, especially because you’d been pestering him about it for months, maybe longer.

“No. Absolutely not, Y/N,” Matt brushed the idea off each time you brought it up — even though his certainty may have faltered a bit when you suggested you’d dress up as the Selina Kyle to his Batman — and he definitely wasn’t going to crack now.

You sigh vehemently, dropping your arms to the side, the legs of the consume piling up a bit on the hardwood floor, “Don’t act like it’s such a far stretch from what you usually do.”

“What?”

“Matthew, do not ‘what’ me with that faux-innocent look, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” you wanted to sound stern but the grin on your face always found a way to seep into your voice around him, “You go out at night and prance around in—“

“I do not prance.” He seemed offended at the word choice.

“prance around in that getup! Everyday!”

“I’m offended you’d accuse me of such a thing. I’m just a struggling lawyer.”

You drop your head backward, staring up at the ceiling and groaning deeply. By the time you bring your head back up, having thought of another great point, you see he has the biggest grin on his face.

“I’m just saying, your nightly… activities… don’t seem too far off from that of Batman’s. Dressing up as a fictional comic book character — who is a lot more like you than you realize — for one night can’t hurt.”

Matt blows air through his cheeks, tilting his head before he speaks,“Yeah? Name one thing I share in common with Batman.”

You bite the inside of your cheek in thought before you swear a lightbulb flickers to life above your head. He can tell either way, but he’s sure he’d see your face light up at your sudden realization. You gasp, snapping your fingers as you point at him, “Orphan!”

“Wow,” He tries to feign offense, but the smile on his face and his light chuckle gives him away, “I’ve never heard someone call me an orphan so happily,”

“What?” You gasp, blinking a few times, “I did not say it happily—“

“Sounded happy to me,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, a smirk on his face.

You step closer to him, holding out the costume again, “Okay, shut it, Murdock, just put it on,”

“Honestly, if I told Foggy that you were trying to force me, a poor, helpless blind man, to wear something I said I didn’t want to, I’m sure—“

You slap your hand over his mouth, causing him to flinch because of how unintentionally hard you did it. Your eyes widen, trying to stifle the smile curling at your lips, “Shit,” you cut yourself off with a poorly hidden giggle, “Sorry,” your apology didn’t seem all that genuine, not only because you were giggling through it, but because you made no move to remove your hand.

He says something, muffled beneath your palm. You smile larger, “Huh, what was that?” your voice held a teasing tone as you tilted your head to the side, as if you were really trying to figure out what he said.

He repeats whatever he said before, but you leaned forward because you didn’t hear him again. He sighs against your hand before his tongue darts out to lick a fat stripe up your palm, making you jump at least a step backward, pulling your hand away and glaring at him.

“Matt!” You wipe his saliva onto his suit, grimacing as you do.

“I said, maybe you should kiss it better,” Matthew grins, grabbing your wrists to pull you closer to him. You drop most of the costume, the mask still in your left hand. He pulls you flush to his chest, looking down at you with a gaze you could only describe as the most lovingly anyone’s ever looked at you. You rested your hands on his chest, your right hand idly playing with the buttons of his shirt.

You hum, tilting your head upwards to look at him, “Your mouth or your face after I slap you for being so clichè?”

“Both,” His cheesy grin was all teeth, a look of adoration on his face before he leaned towards you slowly, pecking your lips once lovingly. You breathe a content sigh as you press farther into him, meeting his lips again with a longer kiss.

Lost in his love for you, he brings his hands to your jaw and rests them gently on either side, using it as a small device to bring you closer, if it were possible. Matt kisses you so deeply that you envelop all of his senses, which would probably be the reason he didn’t notice your hands shifting and traveling up his torso, finally ending up pressing the cowl into his head.

He breathes out a small laugh, pulling away from the kiss, “Low blow. Captivating me so you can get what you want.”

You almost ignore his comment, only offering him a small smile. You adjust the cowl on his head and realize he was only trying to play with you when he so vehemently disagreed to wear the costume, because he made no efforts to pull away. You smile, clipping the helmet together. You slide your hands down his shoulders, smoothing out any wrinkles before you speak, “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Come on, you know. ‘I am…’?”

“No, Y/N.”

“Do it and I’ll give you more kisses.”

This seems to make him pause in thought, weighing the risk and reward — risk his dignity but get to feel more of you.

“Fine.”

You smile, giggling a bit prematurely at just the thought of how funny it would be to see him say Batman’s catch phrase. Honestly, you looked like you could begin jumping up and down. When he takes a little too long, you lean forward into him again, as if trying to nudge him more into the direction of finally saying it, “Well?”

He sighs, looking towards the ceiling as if asking for help from the big guy — maybe praying that the relentless teasing he’ll get from after this will be worth it, “…I am—“

“Say it in the voice.”

“Y/N.”

“Apart of the deal!”

Matt rolls his eyes, a low groan emitting from his chest as he looks back down toward you. Deepening his voice like Batman would, he reluctantly says, “I am vengeance.”

You break into uncontrollable giggles, bringing the back of your palm to your mouth as if it would actually help mask your laugh. Even though he feels like his skin is on fire from the sheer embarrassment, he swears the melodic sound of your laugh was enough for all of it.

He takes the cowl off, dropping it to the floor beside his feet, placing his hands on the sides of your face and pulling you in for another captivating kiss, nearly knocking the air from your lungs. You hum — borderline moan — into the kiss, sliding your hands back up his chest and resting them on his shoulders.

He licks at your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you deny him just for the sake of denying him. That didn’t last long though because he drops his hands to your ass, landing a hard slap on it. You gasp against his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, fighting for — and winning — dominance.

Matt pulls away from the kiss to breathe, listening to your heart race and your breathing begin to stabilize itself. His hands rest on your hips, holding you in place as if he’d make your knees so weak you’d drop. Landing one more peck to your lips, he murmurs, “maybe we should stay home tonight, hm? Skip the party so I can make you feel good?” His head drops to the crook of your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your collarbone.

You whimper at the prospect, “You did this on purpose just so you wouldn’t have to be seen in the costume, didn’t you?”

Matt nips at the skin of your neck as you feel a self-satisfied grin form against your skin. He hums, “Maybe,”

As Matt leaves marks on your collarbone, you gain enough courage to speak up, “If you wanna stay home so bad, maybe I s-should—“ You stutter as he bites particularly hard on your skin, soothing the bite with his tongue, “maybe I should make you beg to,”

He hums as if in challenge, leaving one last love bite before raising back to his full height. He slides his hand up your body, lingering near your breasts for a bit before continuing up to your throat, resting his hand there gently. You’re sure he meant it as a threat, but it seemed more to you like a promise.

“Maybe I should make you beg just for taking that tone with me, yeah?“

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #daredevil #batman #costume drama #halloween #daredevil smut #matt murdock x reader #daredevil fluff

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ro-botany · 1 year

Text

I never ended up finishing Shadows of Valentia (I know, I know, I’m getting to it), so it was... probably about a year or so after the game came out that I heard anything about the extra Grima backstory it introduced. At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I didn’t know if the Big Bad Evil Guy in Awakening really needed that much backstory, given that at the time I felt their role in the story was as a force of nature more than an individual.

Now that it’s had time to stew though, and my interest in Awakening has been piqued again by that Risen King Chrom unit in FEH... I’ve been doing some thinking on that whole situation, and I might be changing my mind. It adds some interesting flavour to Grima and to Robin.

I’m a bit fuzzy on the timeline of Archanea’s history, but the important part for right now is, of course, Forneus. The man who created Grima. There’s a lot of Frankenstein DNA in Grima’s origins, enough that I feel like it HAS to be intentional.

We’ve got a scientist consumed by grief over the death of a loved one who starts experimenting with creating life, who manages to make a creature, only to near immediately find terrifying. The scientist eventually tries to kill their creation and dies in the process. Similar too is the stories’ insistence that the creations are inherently bad, were evil from the very start... in direct contradiction to the order of events begging you to sympathize with the creature.

A young Grima, barely a baby, smiled at their creator; and their creator thought that terrifying. They were only a few months old when their own father tried to kill them and they were forced to defend themself. They were sealed in a labyrinth for centuries, in total isolation save for the risen dead. When they finally lay eyes on another living human—Alm and Celica and allies, bearing weapons no less—of course they attack. The only contact they’ve had with living humans thus far is their dad who tried to kill them. Alm and Celica destroy Grima’s physical body, and... presumably, they find a way out after that, since the seal on the door is gone now.

(I know Forneus writes about the young Grima supposedly planting “violent thoughts” in his head. But that feels a bit like bullshit to me, honestly. One of Awakening’s themes is that you are not defined by your bloodline. Why would we backtrack on that and say this baby came out of the test tube already advocating for genocide? Hell, why are we trusting Forneus’ opinions on that to begin with? He’s a deeply unethical mad scientist who regularly murdered people for his experiments, I’m pretty sure he was having and acting on violent thoughts long before Grima grew a consciousness.)

Despite that fantastically rocky start to life, m!Grima’s 5* level 40 dialogue in Heroes suggests that Grima might have even tried to get along with humans for a time. I mean, just look at this.

[Humans] have no qualms asking for divine assistance when it meets their fickle needs... But how quick they are to shun their benefactors once they get what they desire. They become arrogant and make the same mistakes repeatedly, incapable of learning the folly of their ways. They claim their actions are for the good of others, but that's merely a show of self-indulgence. Humans are selfish.

That sounds like they’ve had time to observe humans. After they got out of the labyrinth they must’ve spent time just... around people. Either they witnessed what happened to other dragons-regarded-as-gods, or they themselves tried out being a god for a while (seems likely, given Plegia), and felt like their early experiences with humans were only getting proved on the large scale over and over again.

And if all of Forneus, Alm, Celica, and the allies of the latter two decided at a glance that Grima was evil and needed to be destroyed, how many more times did people try to destroy Grima after that? How many people took advantage of their powers, only to “shun their benefactor” later? What does that do to a person’s worldview and their view of themselves when they’re already predisposed to fear and hatred due to their early experiences?

Grima’s insistence that one’s destiny is rigid and immutable, their self image as an incarnation of despair—it all makes a lot more sense with this context. Grima is Frankenstein’s monster writ large, born of a man’s grief, named an abomination from birth, given the powers of a god and a thousand years of reasons to wield them for destruction. “The ugliness of mankind has turned me repulsive. It's the world that wants me to be evil.”

Whatever else you think of them, there’s a tragedy in a monster that is only so because they were never given the chance to be anything else.

#fire emblem #grima #meta #grima brainrot hours continues #constructing character analysis out of blurry memories wiki pages and duct tape #i started an awakening playthrough recently and am excited to go through it with this context in mind and squint at grima more #see how the forneus stuff meshes with their characterization in awakening #we love an accidental sympathetic villain

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mollyjeanne615 · 1 year

Note

Could you please write a song adapting Ted and Charlotte’s conversation/flirting/argument in The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals before he leaves her alone with Sam?

Like… there’s the genuine love between them; their respective issues, fears and unhealthy beliefs getting in the way of it; their regret that they can’t just be happy together while also not taking action to make that happen; the stress of being stuck in an alien zombie apocalypse; Charlotte’s grief over and Ted’s resentment of Sam; and their difficulty actually communicating all the previous things. And of course, the sexual tension. I just think that all of those layers interplaying would make a really good song. Especially since their dynamic wasn’t explored much in the show.

There could even be a coda where Ted, after leaving, muses that he could have done better, but he’s been very careful to never give her reason to expect better from him, so she’ll get over it. They’ll be back to their version of normal soon enough (messy as it is). So he doesn’t need to go back in there and apologize or say some heartfelt shit or anything. Then the final notes are the first ones of “You Tied up My Heart”.

I say this every time but holy SHIT this was fun

So I tried to get as much of this prompt into one song as I could - it doesn't cover the entire scene, so there would be a little bit of dialogue between this and "You Tied Up My Heart," but I think it captures a lot of their relationship and connection. There could also totally be some underscoring from this going into the next song in a full production. (Also this wouldn't be in a full production cause they wouldn't be singing, but I dream.) I also cheated a bit with the orchestrations - I've been trying to make them as playable by the original bands of the shows as possible, but for this I switched out the bass part for a second guitar cause why not. There's a little bit of "Time Bastard" in the opening synth part, and there's a pretty big motif/reprise/stolen chord progression in the bridge of the song - I was trying to think of other Hatchetfield songs relating to Spankoffski stories and sexual temptation and all that, and I think this one did the trick lol. I'm super proud of the demo for this one - it came out somewhere between "Dead Girl Walking" from Heathers and "D.O.A." from The Lightning Thief, and I'm really in love with it. Hope y'all enjoy!

In the Worst Way

CHARLOTTE: Ted! I can’t believe you’re thinking about that at a time like this, the whole world could be coming to an end!

TED: Yeah. Exactly. The whole world’s gone to shit and you’re worried about what someone else might think about you?

CHARLOTTE: Well, when you put it like that…

TED:

You think you’re such a good, good girl You pick your nails, you hide your stress But it’s the end of the fucking world So you can afford to decompress

You put your image on a throne You crumple underneath the crown But you need to grow a backbone Before it breaks you down

You’ve been in bed with a scumbag But baby, can’t you see You have a chance to upgrade To a sleazeball like me

So if I’m dying tonight I’ve got a great way to cap off my life I’ll be going out doing the thing I love Screwing around with another man’s wife Maybe there’s better things I should worry about today But I’d rather be here with you So let me say I want you in the worst way

CHARLOTTE: Oh, you’re such a horny bastard.

TED: Always have been, always will be.

CHARLOTTE:

My body’s telling me to run My mind is saying you’re no good But I need something just for fun So I guess I probably should

I’ve wished upon so many stars To be more confident and crude So I’ll embrace the love that’s ours With a badass attitude

TED: Okay!

CHARLOTTE:

There’s something in my gut that says You might still be alright Cause I need someone to love me Before we bite the dust tonight

So if I’m dying today I’m gonna let you lead me astray I might be meeting my maker pretty soon So I’ll get down on my knees and pray Maybe there’s better things I should worry about today But I’d rather be here with you So let me say I want you in the worst way

TED:

Ooh, I want you in the worst way, yeah

TED AND CHARLOTTE:

My happiness is coming first, I won’t be on my own Let all those without sin cast the first stones I’ll do all I can so you’ll never be alone At least until we kick the bucket

CHARLOTTE:

But should I just stick with the devil I know

TED AND CHARLOTTE:

Well, you know what, fuck it!

They make out passionately as a rocking electric guitar solo backs them up.

TED AND CHARLOTTE:

So if I’m dying right now I’ll spend this moment breaking a vow There’s nowhere else I need to be And I needed a little break anyhow Maybe there’s better things I should worry about today But I’d rather be here with you So let me say Yeah, let me say I want you in the worst way

TED:

Let’s let the chips fall where they may

TED AND CHARLOTTE:

I want you in the worst way

CHARLOTTE:

My husband’s brains fell out today

TED AND CHARLOTTE:

I want you in the worst way Maybe there’s better things I should worry about today But I’d rather be here with you So let me say I want you in the worst way

They kiss again on the button of the song.

#team starkid #starkid #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #ted spankoffski #Charlotte sweetly #most of the time when I write these I'm like “it would be cool if people from starkid saw this eventually but I don't need them to”#but HOLY SHIT I want Joey and Jaime to sing this

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idv-news-boi · 4 months

Text

-> Questions for OCs that I’ve been brainrotting about-

{written by yours truly, Laurence :)}

Relations/Bonds

What kind of sibling would they be like, even if they canonly have siblings or not?

What kind of friend are they? Is their treatment the same as how they treat to a best friend and a relative? (this is a pretty deep question if you think about the pros and cons of how they are beneath the surface- don’t be scared to be honest.)

Put your OC and their familiar/friend/other person's OC/acquaintance/significant other/enemy and write a dialogue between them to show how they would tend to treat each other.

Describe OC and their family in one meme.

What are the OC's thoughts on (insert other person's name).

Take out a blank doc or canvas digital art, over the asks. Make anons mention an OC and you slowly reveal a net of relations/thought arrows with your OC as the center of the frame.

Anime

If they ever have an anime intro or outro, how would it look like?

What genre would their anime story show? What lesson would they try to teach their audience?

Would they watch animes about isekai stuff?/ih

What kinds of voice lines would they have? What are their signature quotes? Their Motto?roommates?

What kinds of anime tropes do they like? What kinds of tropes do they dislike?

Lore

What happens if your OC never had trauma or encountered a big life changing event in the first place?

Tell me their backstory but it's nutshell edition

Describe the first moment they were created/born.

Have they ever took out their first baby teeth? If so, how was it like? If not, did they ever have to take out one part of themselves to let something new grow back as a part of their growth?

What was the first story, myth, or Fairy tale they were first told about?

Would they have a happy ending, or bad ending once their story is over? Or it will be an ongoing lore over the years?

Item Psychological Test

Give the OC a piece of paper... what is their first thing they would do with it?

Give the OC an empty gift box... what would they do?

Give the OC a shoe... What would they do?

Give the OC a cardboard box... what would they do?

Give the OC a pocket mirror... What would they do?

Give the OC a coat... What would they do?

Give the OC a toy block... What would they do?

Scenario reactions (can be considered as 'What if' type. If muse never experienced that kind of stuff, just imagine if they have ever done it since it shows more about their character)

If they ever encounter their ex, what would they do?

What do they do if they ever encounter an old friend who have ghosted them along?

What would they say to a person's confession if they don't view them in a romantic way?

What would they do if someone tries to hit on them?

What would they react when getting bullied?

What would they react to a joke they dont find as funny?

How would they explain to a kid who asked "what is death"?

What is one thing they want in a society in order for it to meet their needs/interests?

Dress-up

What color do they think they like/best fit on them the most?

How would you rate the OC from 1-10 in terms of being a fashion model material?

What do they prefer mostly in a clothing; color, texture, or size?

(Challenge the OC to wear something that is opposite from what they usually or have ever wore. Like if they are often seen wearing pale colors, challenge them to wear neon/bright colors)

(Suggest the OC to try an outfit you can find on internet or magazine)

Domestic, Sleepover & Roomates AU

Would they be willing to step on a rat or get rid of it for their roomates?

What do they do in a sleepover? Any fun facts?

What type of drunk person are they?

Do they know how to clean a bathroom?

Do they believe it's necessary to put seat belt on before the car moves?

Are they capable to fix broken furniture?

Would they know how to fix a machine, electronic, or a computer in the household?

What rules would they like to set when living with roomates?

Horror Movie AU

If they are into horror movies, what are their favorites?

Would they make analysis and theories after playing a mystery game story? If not, what signs do they show that they actually enjoyed the game?

What kind of character stereotype would they be in a horror movie? (The final girl, the Jack, the entity, the pawn, etc.)

If a Halloween party prompts OCs to dress based on horror movies, what would they dress?

??? (Pins' horror fanatic oc reveal incoming)

School AU

How long can they handle remote learning?

What type of student would they be?

What school club would they like to join?

How would they react when a fight between students happen in front of the school?

What country can you imagine your OC would study abroad at? Or a different fandom world?

What gang would they be in; skip lunch, have school lunch, or bring their own lunch?

How would their desk setup look like? What's inside their school bag?

Dystopia (in honor of my nonfandom world :)) )

Would they survive in a zombie apocalypse? What would they do to do so? What will they bring?

What are their thoughts about the popularity of AIs and robots?

Based on their occupation, will they be able to maintain it in the future and not be replaced by machines? If not, what would they do to keep it alive?

What kind of dystopian story would they be most scared of? Which dystopian trope would fascinate them?

(I was thinking of having peeps put a 🌸 in this blog’s inbox so I can just randomly spill a Dyanthus dystopian story from different sect states, like Euphrasia’s Oxidanopolis)/ih

#📰

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all-things-ghostly · 4 months

Text

The Beast of the Blood Moon

Werebat! Alistair Crump x GN Reader

Warning! This fic probably isn’t going to be for everyone! Aside from the end, it’s a little dark - CW for somewhat graphic transformation (starts with the first ~~~ below the cut and ends at the second), Alistair having a bad time, animal death and consumption, blood, small reader injury.

~~~

Okay I was originally not gonna post this and just keep it to myself because I thought it was too niche but then I remembered what kinda people Alistair fans are and went through with it anyway LMAO

I apologize if it drags on or feels like a mouthful. I had used this as an opportunity to practice description-heavy fics instead of relying on dialogue so I don’t have as much experience with this. Please be nice to me lmao I’ve been kinda beating myself up during the writing process-

With Alistair’s death came an array of changes. In many ways, he hardly resembled the person he was when he was alive. His form had gone from decently built to thin and skeletal, grey skin pulled tightly over it without much muscle mass left. It was difficult for him to move how he used to, especially without the support of his cane, which is why he was almost always floating and rarely walking. The structure of his face was completely different - everything was all sunken, uncanny, and corpse-like. There was so much he could point out that he didn’t like about his new body, but we’d be here for too long.

Needless to say, he looked like a monster. He felt like a monster.

And after a while, he actually started to become one.

Alistair thought that death would be the end of it all, but he couldn’t be further from the truth. Throughout his first few years of ghosthood, Alistair only continued changing. The first thing he noticed was his teeth - they had initially begun to straighten themselves out a bit, which made Alistair happy, but that was only so that they could get bigger. Much bigger. And sharper. This had especially impacted his canines, which had grown long and pointed, so much that they barely even fit in his mouth anymore.

Then came the rapid claw growth. Whenever Alistair cut his nails, he would wake up the next morning to find them the exact same length they were before. He couldn’t do anything to stop it. Eventually, he just gave up and let them do their own thing, at which point they stopped growing at a certain length and instead became reinforced into strong, durable, sharp claws. To be honest, Alistair quite liked them. It was one of the few new changes he actually didn’t mind that much.

The worst thing, however, were the blood moons.

Full moons nourished Alistair. They gave him strength and power beyond imagination. Lunar eclipses, on the other hand, slowly became his downfall. The first one he experienced after his death made him feel nauseous with a slight toothache, and that was about the worst of it. But with each consecutive blood moon, the symptoms got worse. He got brain fog. White fur started growing on his chest and limbs. His cloak would painfully fuse to his back. Luckily it all went away in the morning, but the experiences left Alistair dreading the next blood moon.

The 13th eclipse was the peak of it all.

That was the night the spirit truly lost himself. The night he transformed into something far more horrific than he could have ever imagined. It absolutely terrified Alistair to have no control over his body like that.

Every time he transformed into that… thing, Alistair only started hating himself more. For years and years he tried to deal with it, but nothing could ever tame the beast within him.

Then, a century later… a new mortal moved in.

~~~ You glance outside the window and check on the position of the moon. It’s almost midnight, when the effect will fully set in. Behind you Alistair clutches his heart and leans against the wall. He looks to be in pain.

Alistair has never told you exactly what happens to him on lunar eclipses. He’s mentioned it to you before, especially in recent times as the eclipse drew closer, but he would always hide the exact details. It’s something he’s always been self conscious about and refuses to elaborate on. All you know is that whatever happens to the ghost is supposedly very dangerous, for you and for others.

You’re lost in quiet contemplation as you stare out the window, feeling sorrow for poor Alistair, when suddenly a loud crash and thud behind you tears you away from your thoughts. Turning around frightfully, you notice that Alistair has collapsed and is leaning propped up against the wall. His hat is crooked and he’s panting heavily like he’s in severe distress. You rush away from the window, getting down on the floor so you can be eye level to him.

“What’s going on? Are you alright?” You ask, putting a hand on his shoulder. The texture of his cloak beneath your hand catches your attention. Looking at it, you notice that it’s begun to change shape and feels more… organic than usual.

“Y/n, please, I told you that you need to leave,” Alistair pleads with you between grunts of pain. “I won’t be myself. I won’t remember who you are. There’s no way for me to guarantee that you will be safe, that I won’t hurt you. You cannot stay here, please.”

In a sudden and startling turn of events, Alistair cries out, gripping his head with his claws. Something is happening to him that makes you immediately pull your hand away from his shoulder and scurry back…

His cloak…

It’s starting to move on its own.

The way it moves reminds you of something from a horror movie, like bones snapping into impossible, grotesque positions. Accompanying the rigid movements of the cape is a sickening cracking noise that makes your stomach turn. Throughout it all, Alistair starts to scream, as the fabric is quite literally welding itself into his body and becoming a part of him.

“I said leave, Y/n!” He shouts once more, falling onto his hands and knees. Alistair’s form trembles violently, and with yet another cry, what was once his cape fully transforms into a massive set of bat wings with an impressive wingspan. The wings spread out wide in an intimidating spectacle while Alistair continues to struggle.

Hurried footsteps pound down the eastern hallway, and in comes one of the mansion’s ghostly servants, attracted by the noise. She takes a second to assess the situation and notices Alistair convulsing on the floor. Her face falls. Then she notices you.

“Oh! Er— come here, dear,” she urges, nervously scurrying over to you and gently grabbing your wrist. Her eyes are filled with deep fear and concern. “Let’s go. I know a safe place you can hide for the night.”

She tries guiding you away, but you resist. All you care about right now is Alistair. The poor man appears to be suffering immensely at the hands of his transformation. Right now, he’s currently attempting to push himself up off the ground, but he’s too weak and just falls over again with a little whine.

“Alistair…” you mumble.

Sensing your sympathy, the servant’s eyes soften into a gentle expression. “I know you’re worried about him, but he will be alright in the morning. Now come on, right this way, right this way…”

She starts to softly pull on your arm, leaving you no choice but to follow her and leave Alistair behind. The last thing you see is him keeling over before you get dragged out of the room and brought into one of the guest rooms down the hall.

Now, Alistair is left all alone in the foyer of the mansion. Aside from his wails, the house is completely silent, since all of the other inhabitants have hidden away for the night. There was no one to help him as he went through the next stage of the awful transformation. Unfortunately for him, the wings were only the beginning. He barely even got a minute of relief before he felt that dreadfully familiar burning sensation deep inside of his body.

Snap.

Bones began to break and expand at unnatural rates in order for his form to change. His spine grew longer and more jagged, making his frame tall and imposing. The bones in his legs snapped and reformed to become digitigrade like that of a wild beast. Additionally, Alistair’s arms and bony hands became larger in order to support a nasty set of vicious claws that could effortlessly tear into prey. Even his very skull began to warp and change into something more animalistic. It was awful. Alistair’s throat was starting to hurt from all the yelling and after a while the only sounds he could make were strained, guttural cries.

Not to mention the way his flesh had to grow to match his new skeletal structure. Though he maintained his lean shape, his arms and legs became more muscular, as well as his back muscles that helped propel those massive wings of his. Alistair could hardly describe what it felt like, but the way that his cells had to rapidly mutate beyond human capability was insufferable. Mostly, it felt like a hellish burning. But there was also a strange, stinging-aching feeling associated with his insides stretching out and body changing shape. For the last step in the body mutation, a pair of large bat ears sprouted from his head, and he gained the last few kinds of animalistic features he needed: paw pads on the bottoms of his feet, a proper bat muzzle, and even larger fangs, to name a few.

Finally, it was over. The hard part, anyway. His fur still needed to grow in but that was painless.

Alistair, completely exhausted, laid curled up on his side, trembling and whimpering pitifully. He struggled to catch his breath after everything that just happened and panted like a wounded animal. Scattered all around him were the remnants of his clothes that had burst at the seams during his transformation. Suddenly he was glad everybody left the room, otherwise they’d have… quite the view.

While he rested, his beautiful fur coat started to grow out, starting at his limbs and torso and continuing to spread from there. The fur was longest on his chest and crotch area (which worked in his favor, considering he had no clothes on that would otherwise cover things up) and it was surprisingly soft. It was almost funny how soft he was considering how the rest of him just seemed so monstrous.

For the first couple of minutes, Alistair did nothing but lay still and breathe. He was still very spent and needed a minute to adjust to his new form as a werebat. But it wouldn’t last for long. Because he knew that very shortly, the hunger would set in. Hunger so insatiable that he would do anything to feel warm blood and flesh beneath his fangs.

Just at that moment, his bat nose twitched when he caught the scent of something far in the distance. He sniffed the air a few times to get a better feel for it… some sort of large prey in the woods behind the mansion. His maw started foaming immediately, he just couldn’t help it… whatever was out there should surely be enough to sustain him for the night.

Alistair, with newfound vigor, starts to push himself up off the ground. At first, he feels very unsteady since he’s not adjusted to his body yet, but animal instinct quickly takes over and he rises to his feet. Standing at just over 7 feet tall, Alistair’s werebat form is an absolute menace. His animalistic mind has now been completely consumed by bloodthirstiness and the idea of his next meal. Assuming an aggressive position, Alistair puffs his chest out, spreads his wings, and flares his claws, just before releasing a screeching cry so shrill that it echoes throughout every hall of the mansion, shaking the very foundation it rests upon.

Immediately after he calls out, Alistair rears his head and charges at the mansion’s front door. It shatters effortlessly against his mighty form, and with that the giant bat escapes the mansion unharmed, flying into the night in search of his prey.

~~~

“Come on, come on…”

The beam of light coming from your flashlight sputters and flickers from what you assume is low battery, or perhaps old age. You give it a good few hard smacks. Now is hardly the time for it to malfunction.

The spirits of the mansion had kept you sequestered away in one of the guest rooms for about an hour, trying to defend you from Alistair. And, while you appreciated their concern, you were worried about him. From the room you were in you could hear his pained, miserable screams.

Which meant that you also heard the sound of him destroying the front door and fleeing.

Since all of the other spirits were hiding away in their own separate places, it was rather easy for you to sneak out unnoticed. All you took with you was a flashlight and a small dagger, just in case. Not that you could ever use it on Alistair. It just made you feel a little safer wandering into a dark, wooded area knowing that you had a weapon with you.

The flashlight beam finally stabled itself out after the last hit. You point it out into the tangled woods behind the mansion and try to find any evidence of Alistair. Considering he flew, it’s not like you could go off of animal tracks or anything, so it was proving to be a little difficult. But you were determined to find him.

Finally, you start to take some hesitant steps into the forest. The trees had grown long and twisted, some of them even being over a century old, which blocked out the moonlight and made it even more difficult to see. All you really had going for you lighting-wise was some crappy flashlight that was likely crusted over with battery acid. The forest also had that typical Louisiana humidity to it, even at night. You had to shoo off more mosquitos than you would have liked.

You walk for quite a bit of time, shining your flashlight over the ground and trees, before you find anything. The first sign you noticed were deer tracks on the dark soil. Not necessary anything related to bats, but you instinctively feel like you should follow them anyways. They seem to go on for a far, far distance, all in one direction, as if the creature was running from something…

Suddenly, you start to feel a bit paranoid.

You even began having second thoughts about turning back. Still, though, all you could think about was Alistair. He was somewhere all alone out here, stuck in a monstrous body he couldn’t control. Something could happen to him; what if he got shot?

You have to pull through, for him. So against everything telling you not to, you keep trekking through the woods.

At one point in the trail, there was a moment where the tracks suddenly stopped. Instead, there was a spot where dirt, leaves, and soil seemed to be scattered and kicked around, forming a large messy crater in the ground. Usually, you would’ve thought nothing of it, but for some reason it felt deeply off-putting.

After staring at it for a moment, you hesitantly decide to keep walking forwards. But it doesn’t get any better. Now, there is a large, long streak in the ground, as if something had been dragged through the dirt. You shine your flashlight over it, and notice something even worse splattered through the foliage…

Blood.

The sound of shifting leaves in front of you makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t dare look up.

The beam of your flashlight starts to waver from the way your hands begin to shake. More odd noises come from just a few yards away… snarfing, growling, noisy chewing. You already know what it is but you don’t want to look, you don’t want to look, you can’t look at it don’t look at it don’t look it at it—

Your flashlight sputters. Then flickers.

Then dies.

Oh, of course.

The flashing light seems to attract the attention of the beast in front of you. Without your only light source, it’s so dark that you can barely make out the silhouettes… and a pair of glowing yellow eyes bearing right into you.

Very, very slowly, you try to step away. The creature continues to stare unblinkingly at you as you move, keeping a large, clawed paw on the half-eaten deer carcass in front of it. Even as it lowers its head back down to take another huge bite, its eyes never leave you. You don’t know what to do. You can’t move.

You stand there very still for the next good few minutes. In that time the beast has managed to reduce the cervidae to nothing but a pile of bones. When it finishes eating and licks its maw, you hope that it will lose interest in you and walk away. But of course not. Instead, it stands up to its full height and starts creeping right over to you, the slits of its pupils so slim that you can hardly even see them.

For a moment, it steps into the moonlight, allowing you to see it clearly.

It’s Alistair, alright.

Looks like you found him after all.

Even as a werebat, something about its appearance makes you immediately recognize it to be him. Perhaps it’s the somewhat messy white fur that covers his body, fading into a grey color in a gradient manner towards his forearms and shins. Or it could be those giant dark grey wings that remind you so much of his cloak. His face, ears, hands and feet were a slightly lighter shade of grey than the wings, reminding you of his usual sickly skin tone… but most importantly, it might be those eyes of his. Those soul-piercing yellow eyes that could make the blood of even the bravest being run cold. You would recognize them anywhere.

You do your best to stay still as he approaches you. It might sound stupid, but you feel like running would only trigger him more. Alistair comes up to you, his massive figure towering over your shaking body, and you feel like this could be the end.

He leans down and gets so close to you that you can see the individual blood stains on his fur. But surprisingly, he doesn’t attack right away. Instead, his snout buries into your hair, and then your neck, sniffing around… he seems curious about you. Eventually he pulls back and grabs your wrist.

“Um, okay,” you stammer, scared absolutely shitless but following him as he drags you off to a small cave just nearby. It looks to almost be like… his den? The inside is decorated with various bones and skulls, as well as beautiful vines along the walls and some baskets full of fruit or other little snacks. Alistair pulls you over to a large pile of animal pelts towards the back of the cave and sets you down gently. Perhaps it’s his nest?

You’re feeling very confused. Especially when he plops down next to you and starts sniffing at your neck again and clothes again. Alistair’s face scrunches in confusion, as if he’s trying to place something, when suddenly he pauses and looks right into your eyes, his slit pupils dilating into a more gentle expression of recognition.

He remembers you.

It’s like a switch is flipped. Alistair’s large, strong arms pick you up and place you right into his lap, where he continues to examine you. Even if his brain is too fogged over to remember what you look like, he seems to recognize you by your scent alone. Which is honestly just really adorable.

He then carefully lifts you up so that you’re eye level and starts to rub his soft head along your face and neck. It reminds you of a cat rubbing itself along your legs to mark its scent on you, which is essentially the same thing he’s doing. It’s fascinating to see how differently he shows his affection in a more animalistic form - he may have a more feral, primitive mind now, but he still has his ways of showing that he loves you. After he deems you sufficiently marked, Alistair buries his soft little muzzle into the crook of your neck again…

…and then bites.

No, not like a cute little nibble or anything. He sinks his fangs right in and breaks the skin, just at the spot between your neck and shoulder. Considering how he showed no signs of hostility beforehand, you’re completely taken by surprise. In fact, you don’t even register the pain at first because you’re so shocked.

He holds his fangs there for about 10 seconds and then slowly lets go. Left just next to your shoulder is a massive, bleeding bite from his fangs. Your eyes are still widened in complete shock, but Alistair seems unphased. He was just acting on natural instinct.

See, the bite wasn’t meant to hurt you. He had actually carefully adjusted the force of it to where it would break the skin and engrave deeply but not cause any permanent damage to the nerves or flesh. Instead, he made it just deep enough to create a permanent scar on a visible area of your body. He was giving you a mating bite - a mark on you that would show everyone, both human and beast, that you were his.

Alistair’s long tongue gently laps at the wound to clean it. His saliva seems to be numbing it for you, lessening some of the stinging pain left behind (and, as a bonus, he gets a little snack out of the blood). The werebat seems to know that his fangs hurt and is now acting very tenderly towards you to make up for it. His tongue works diligently until the bite mark naturally clots and is ready to be properly treated later.

Once he’s finished, Alistair makes a low growling noise and leans back onto his nest with you on top of him. His large arms wrap tightly around your body and hold you so close that your face gets smothered in his long chest fur. Breathing him in, you notice that he has somewhat of a woodsy musk smell to him. It’s honestly quite pleasant. He starts to purr, a deep, rumbling purr that you can feel the vibrations of as you rest on top of his fluffy underbelly.

“Oh, well… I guess you’re actually a little bit cute,” you mumble at him, freeing an arm so you can scratch him underneath his ear. Alistair’s purring gets louder, and his eyes start to close in pure contentment. It’s… really, really adorable. Normally, Alistair would get pissed off if you tried babying him like this. But right now? Just like any other creature, he could never deny some good scritches.

The cute little (or rather, not so little) monster nudges up against you like he wants more. Who are you to deny him? You take both hands and start rubbing his soft face, even giving him a little kiss on the nose, which makes his big bat ears twitch. Now, under your touch, he’s no more intimidating than a lap dog.

Alistair especially loves it when you start to pet and scratch his fluffy belly. His purrs become so loud and deep that it reminds you of a dinosaur. His large bat body stretches out to expose himself as best as he can to you for more rubs, his leg kicking joyously when he receives them. He just feels so… relaxed.

He wasn’t used to that. Feeling relaxed. Not only in werebat form, but as regular old Alistair Crump, too. Normally he was much too shut in and reserved to let someone get close to him, nevertheless touch him. And as a werebat, Alistair was constantly under the stress of trying to control his violence and rampages. He has never once been able to just settle down and let someone pet him like this.

Perhaps that just means that you’re someone he feels safe around.

After a while, you notice him starting to yawn. The large bat looks very sleepy, having been relaxed by your gentle, comforting touch. Alistair makes another little purring sound and pulls you close once more. His warm tongue starts to sweetly lick at your lips, almost like he’s giving you his own little version of kisses to thank you for all of the affection you gave him.

Finally, he settles down and wraps his arms and wings against you, cuddling you as if you were his own little stuffed animal. You notice that as he drifts off to sleep, his eyes are gentle and dilated. It’s a sign of how calm he is. The calmest and tamest the beast has ever been.

Maybe, all this time, he only needed a gentle and understanding mate.

And who better to fit the part than you?

#alistair crump #hatbox ghost #haunted mansion #haunted mansion 2023 #my writing #alistair crump x reader #werebat #monster x human #monster x reader #the haunted mansion #hatbox ghost x reader

23 notes · View notes

gabriel-xander · 2 months

Text

Don't Forget

[Sans x Female!Reader]

6: Whaaat? Nooo! Things are Definitely NOT Getting Suspicious!

A/N: So, Sans is a skeleton monster. Yes, he doesn’t have “muscles or skin”, but he’s still a monster. So it’s less that he’s a skeleton, and more so that he’s a monster that looks like a skeleton. That being said, every time I want to write “he raised an eyebrow,” or “his muscles twitched,” I REALLY don’t want to have to clarify “not actual muscles because he’s a skeleton, but he’s still a monster so the same logic still applies to him” EVERY TIME 😭 So please hold those comments and let me make my life a little easier 😭 thank you and Gesundheit!!

Anyway, thank you for reading, and please enjoy this chapter!

♪───✿⁠(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

THIS SHIT IS HARD!!!

Tears pool in your eyes, agony reflects in pools of [e/c] and frustration colors your expression.

“TORIELLL!!”

“Yes, my child?”

“THIS SHIT HARD!!”

She smiles in amusement, holding in a chuckle, “It’s not so bad. It’s your second attempt and it already looks like a Froggit…. If… If you squint…”

You sigh with a defeated smile, “You’re right, you’re right. It’s just… One of my toxic traits is thinking I can do anything without any prior practice or skill.”

“That must be difficult to cope with.”

“Oh, dude. Like you wouldn’t believe.”

So, crocheting isn’t going as well as you’d hoped. You would think that your desire to become a Surgeon would mean that your hands are pretty steady. They’re… steady enough, you suppose. It could just be a major case of Skill Issue™ that is holding you back. Your spirits are beginning to be affected by this, though.

This is the third time Toriel has tried introducing you to a new hobby just for you to fail miserably. Six days ago, you two were trying out knitting. Then three days ago, you two tried clay sculpting. And today? It’s crocheting.

You’re not actually complaining though, you’re having a lot of fun despite your failed attempts! More accurately, you’re having fun hanging out with the goat mom so it doesn’t matter if you were bad at this stuff. You understand that the reason why she’s doing this is because she wants you to have fun and not be bored having to stay inside all the time. You really appreciate the effort she’s putting in, so the most you can do is try to give each of these activities a genuine shot.

You shake your head to get back in the game, “Okay, okay. Let me try again, I think I can do it right this time.”

────

You flip to the next page of a random history book you’ve been reading. “Trapped behind the barrier and fearful of further human attacks, we retreated. Far, far into the earth we walked, until we reached the cavern's end. This was our new home, which we named… “Home.” As great as our king is, he is pretty lousy at names.”

“Oh shit, it’s this book!” You perk up with a smile, “I’ve been looking for this damn book. It only took me two and a half weeks of being here and going through the whole shelf. Why is it all the way down here?”

With Toriel out of the house yet again, you decided to take up reading once more. Toriel leaves the house for a few hours every day, she always goes to the very beginning of the Ruins (where you fell in) to check if another human has fallen down. You wonder if one of these days Toriel will come home with that child. Would Frisk be thrown off by your presence? Or will they, for some reason, find you as a threat and try to Reset in the hopes of getting rid of you?

Nah, Frisk isn’t that type of person. They have jerk dialogue options in the Pacifist route, but you never consider them to be true to Frisk. The possibility still makes you nervous.

The history book isn’t very long, and before long you reached the last page. You’re about to put it back but decide to move it to the middle of the shelf instead. You can’t explain it, but it feels better in that spot instead.

Hm…

You put your hands on your hips. Well, you guess you can try painting before Toriel gets back for lunch.

────

It’s been three and a half weeks, and Toriel is running out of options for you. She’s considering getting you a job in the small city in the Ruins so you have something to do. In your boredom, you’ve read most of the books in her home, you cook for her now all of the time, and you clean all the time, too. You only seem to like doing the other hobbies if Toriel is there to do it with you.

She knows, though, that you really need to get out of the house. You’re young, energetic, and adventurous; despite your resolve to understand that if you’re not careful, you could be killed, she knows that you can’t stay inside all the time.

So, she goes to a friend for help.

“Actually, before I must go,” Toriel says a little hesitantly, “There is something I’d like to ask of you. I-I’d like a favor.”

Sans’ smile becomes a little strained, though he supposes it doesn’t matter if he keeps up that facade since there isn’t anyone around. But it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile. And yeah, he’s a skeleton and thus does not have any muscles, but he’s still a monster, so there’s a possibility for anything.

“a favor? well, i can’t say i’m all powerful and knowing, but if you tell me what it is, i might be able to help out,” The comic replies.

“You’ve mentioned going to the Waterfalls and Hotlands a few times, correct? Do you perhaps know a handful of people?”

“uh, i guess i do. why?”

“Would you happen to know any ghost monsters? Particularly, a sad-looking ghost who pretends to sleep a lot. He was here a few weeks ago, but has not returned,” Toriel thinks back to you expressing wanting to be friends with that ghost, “There is no way for me to reach out to him, so I was wondering if it would be at all possible for you to find him somehow, and send him my way.”

…

HUH?

Toriel is talking about Napstablook, Sans knows him the same way he knows almost everyone in the Underground (after so many Resets, he took it upon himself to know the different people, especially those who have a connection with Frisk). He lives in Waterfall, alone and generally keeps to himself. He sometimes goes to the Ruins just to hang out by himself as well.

Why… Why does Toriel want to know about him all of a sudden?

“uh, i think i know who you’re talking about. did he do something wrong?”

“Oh, heavens no! There’s just… something I’m curious about, that’s all. I see him often, but I never go out of my way to say hello.”

“oh… kay?” This is so weird, “yeah, i can find him and let him know you’re looking for him.”

Toriel smiles in relief, “Thank you so much, friend. I should really get going now. Until next time.”

“yeah, ‘till next time.”

Sans hears Toriel walk away in a hurry, scratching his skull in confusion as he also begins his walk to Snowdin. What the fuck was that? Even before the kid came and ruined everything, Toriel had not once expressed being curious about other monsters. She’s under the assumption that monsters still fight humans out of malice, and not because they just feel like they have to at this point.

Why is this suddenly different? It can’t really be because this is the natural development Toriel goes through, right? Nothing in Sans’ past experience hints at this kind of development in Toriel, or that it could be capable on her own-

…

‘it can’t be possible on her own.’

Sans stops walking.

No… Could it really be…?

Frisk is back in the Underground, and is staying in the Ruins?

────

The sussy skeleton knocks his knuckles against a door (albeit he had to knock harder than anyone usually has since he’s wearing pink gloves at the moment), huffing slightly while waiting for an answer. He’s tapping his foot impatiently on the ground, looking around aimlessly at nothing in particular. To Napstablook’s credit, he doesn’t make the other wait for too long. Instead of opening the door, the ghost just phases through it.

Napstablook is looking at the other in confusion, which is completely understandable.

“oh… hi, sans…”

“hey, buddy. how are ya?”

Napstablook’s headphones slowly fade away into nothingness. Wow, impressive skill. Sans has no idea how he did that.

“i’m doing alright, i guess… i was just working on a new remix…” Napstablook avoids eye contact, “um, sans…”

“yeah?”

“not that i don’t mind that you’re here, but… you never come here and we never really talk… did you need something…?”

Sans sighs a short laugh, “heh. you’re straightforward, huh? yeah, there is something i need to tell you.”

“oh. wh-what is it?”

“you were in the ruins a few weeks ago, right?”

“how-how did you know…?”

Sans shrugs, “heard it from that monster lady who takes care of the ruins. she was wondering why you stopped showing up, and wants to see you as soon as it’s convenient for you.”

“oh…” Napstablook doesn’t have eyebrows, but his big ‘ol eyes are expressive enough to show some confusion, “that lady…? i thought she didn’t want me there anymore because of that human…”

Shit, so Frisk is in the Ruins! Sans forces himself to stay calm. Sans raises a brow and leans forward a bit.

“a human, huh? now, that’s somethin’. you remember how they look like?”

At this, the ghost smiles softly and meekly, “yeah… i didn’t get a good look ‘caues i was laying down, but she was wearing a striped brown dress, and had kind, [e/c] eyes. must be a kid that the lady is looking after…”

…So it’s not Frisk. As far as Sans is aware, Frisk has always been androgynous, and he knows the ghost monster isn’t an asshole to misgender them purposely. (Ignore that Sans at that moment forgot Napstablook wouldn’t have any memory of Frisk.) Not only that but a striped, brown dress? Unless Frisk decided to get a new look, then Napstablook was describing someone else.

“really now? you don’t think this could be an evil human, do you?”

“oh, no way… she was really nice to me and had a lot of faith in my fake sleep… no one has ever given me that much encouragement in my fake sleep before.”

…That’s nice, Blooky.

“if only i could remember her name… the big monster lady said it once…”

Sans widens his eye sockets slightly, “come on now, bud. i know you can remember it.”

Napstablook squeezes his eyes, “mmnn… it was… it was… s… sa… mm… de… ehhh…”

The skeleton tenses up, his fists being held in front of himself like a child overfilled with anticipation.

“i think it was… uh…”

“…?”

“...i got nothing. sorry…”

Sans sighs heavily in disappointment, “it’s fine, buddy. it was a long shot, anyway.”

“well, i can tell you when i find out… if you want…”

“hey, not a bad idea,” Sans holds his gloved hand to his chin in thought, “try to be discrete though, yeah? we don’t wanna scare the human thinking that a lot of monsters are after her.”

“…actually, why do you wanna know about the human?” Napstablook shrinks back slightly, “you don’t wanna take her soul, do you…?”

Hey! Sans may not like humans (and Frisk certainly didn’t help with that), but he’s not a heartless monster (hah). Granted, if this new human that’s with Toriel is a jerk, and Toriel doesn’t make him also promise to keep her safe, then he might do something drastic and violent. He knows that it’s rash and rather harsh, but can the blame really be on him after all he’s had to endure?

“nah, i’m not interested in capturing any human,” Sans said, you know, like a liar, “you can’t blame a skeleton for being worried though, right? it’s been so long since the last human was down here, ya know?”

“yeah, i guess that’s true…” Napstablook resummons his headphones with, presumably, magic, “i should get going then… i’ll see you later, sans…”

“see ya later, bud.”

Napstablook at least has the manners to not pass through Sans, and instead takes the time to float around him to make his way to the Ruins.

Sans watches him leave for a moment before taking a shortcut home. More specifically, he takes a shortcut to his bedroom. He sighs in relief, ditching his pink slippers by the door to drag his feet to his bed.

On the way, he nabs a notebook from his self-sustaining tornado made of trash. By his command, the bunched up, weird, creasy ball of his covers unravels itself to lay out on his worn mattress.

With a sigh, the skeleton flops down face first on his bed.

Clink.

Ouch.

Sans lifts his head with a wince, not appreciating the sans-ation of his forgotten pen falling out of his eye socket. Huh. He’s been looking for this pen, guess it’s been lost in his covers all this time. He takes it and rolls over to his back, opening up his notebook and flipping through the pages until he reaches a blank one. The monster clicks his pen and scribbles on the top corner until the ink starts to flow out of the ball point.

——

thursday, january 17th, 20XX

RESET #43: Post-Flowey (207 days since the last reset)

there’s a new human in the underground. napstablook was describing a girl, presumably a child. what’s with all the children falling to the underground? anyway, he swears up and down that she’s not evil or harmful, but i doubt it. how long as she been in the ruins? why did toriel hide this information from me?

it might have to do with the fact we’ve been drifting apart lately. about two months ago i noticed she’s been more reclusive and less willing to talk for long. i think she can pick up that i haven’t been putting in my all lately. i can’t bring myself to really care that much anymore, which is probably why she doesn’t enjoy talking to me anymore. i don’t blame her.

it’s been worse recently though. about a month ago, she’s been really different. she’s a lot more energetic, but i can tell when she talks to me that she would rather be somewhere else. maybe that’s when the human girl showed up. she has to be a pro at manipulating if toriel is enjoying this human’s company.

or maybe all these resets are getting to me, and the human isn’t that bad after all.

only time will tell.

…

luckily (or maybe not) napstablook is going to the ruins and will check out the human. hopefully he remembers to ask for the girl’s name, and tell me anything else that can be relevant. maybe the human has something to do with toriel asking for him. i can’t think of another reason why.

it makes me wonder… if frisk never had shown up at all, would this be the natural order of what was to happen? that another human would eventually fall in anyway?

whatever. i’ll learn more once napstablook comes back from the ruins.

i hope he comes back from the ruins…

——

Whelp, that’s enough thinking for today. Sans has no idea when that ghost will come back, so he might as well take a nap. It’s been a long 40 minutes, he’s earned it.

────────────

Tag List (There's only one person lmao)

@lemonboy011 I don't know if I did this right whoops

#fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #don't forget fanfiction #sans undertale #sans x reader #undertale #sans #toriel #napstablook

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