#THE END OF SEASON 1 WILL HAUNT ME ALL MY LIFE
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not-me-burning · 10 months ago
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the way i INHALED this show. season 2 Uk in all black robes is a very important part of my soul now. loved this fantasy world.
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dailyasiandramas’ sunday throwback ★ [WEEK 29]
ALCHEMY OF SOULS 환혼 Written by Hong Jung Eun and Hong Mi Ran Dir. Park Joon Hwa and Bae Hyun Jin
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space-blue · 8 months ago
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Disappointed in the Vander backstory
I fully expected that it was coming, but I'm disappointed in the timeline all the same.
The "Vander got upset because a fight against Piltover Silco instigated killed the woman he loved" was literally my first draft for my longfic Fathers and Daughters, and I ended up scrapping it because I felt it was too cheap and wouldn't justify the violence of his actions against Silco.
"When she died I lost my head" he says in the letter.
But when she died you actually dropped your gauntlets and picked up the girls and everyone has been assuming this was the moment you swore off violence...
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The fact she goes on to let Vander name her kid, and seems to be thick as thieves with them, and ALSO tells them of the pregnancy before she builds up the courage to tell her partner... Tells me that surely... SURELY by the time Vi is 10-11, whatever she is on the bridge in season 1, she would KNOW SILCO as her mom's bestie, no??? Not just Vander.
It feels like this entire angle is pulled under the rug to simplify the conflict in act 1.
I do appreciate being right on the money with Silco knowing and being friends with the mom, and having known Vi as a baby. I think it makes sense, especially if he was an important community leader.
I just hate her death being the catalyst of Vander's actions against Silco. It means that the timeline actually like this:
Mom-Silco-Vander are best friends. Silco is "Bozo 1" and has been leading the transformation of the Lanes with Vander's help. He's already planning his nation of Zaun. His notebook is literally saying "NZ" for Nation of Zaun.
At an ONGOING confrontation with enforcers, Silco throws a molotov cocktails that doesn't seem to even kill an enforcer (Powder and her innefectual bombs parallel? The entire scene is intercut with the monkey bomb clapping so... The scene leading to a friend's death also parallels the events of Jinx's birth.)
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As the smoke clears/the POV looks down, we have the reveal that the girls' Mom is dead.
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Vander admits the blood was on his hands as well, meaning he either started this confrontation with Silco, or fought just as badly/increased the violence (and we see him murder enforcers later on). Anyway he admits to carrying the blame, and apologized in person to Silco for the dubbed "betrayal".
Then he went home, shaved, dragged Silco into the Pilt, and tried to drown him *because their common friend died at the failed uprising*.
He's then haunted, seemingly, by visions of Silco being dead:
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To me it's sort of weaker and sadder, as it establishes Vander as someone more flawed and less ruthless. It's not that he wanted the Lanes, it's not that Silco was getting in the way of what he wanted.
Vander was out there happy with everything they were dishing out, right until their actions cost the life of a friend, and he broke, emotionally, and BLAMED it on Silco, going so far as to kill him (or try).
He surrendered his gauntlets, picked the children up, tucked them in at home, shaved (I cannot stress this enough), then took Silco into the fucking river and brutally attempted to murder him.
Then he massively regretted it and left little breadcrumbs of apologies in case Silco found them and returned to him.
So, canon couple, first off lol
Fellas, is it gay to hang your jackets inside each other's in your secret hideout? Is it gay that all your core hidden memories begin with your mate smiling at you?
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Yes, yes it is. Zaundad is canon and I'm not taking commentary.
Secondly, that means Vander was an emotional ticking time bomb who wasn't ready for the price to sacrifice in order to gain their freedom. I really wonder what the alternative reality would have been like, were Silco the one dying on that bridge.
Anyway, it brings some twisted sadness to the situation, because the mom wanted Zaun "no matter what" for Vi's sake, her child's future. But Vander decided that lives weren't worth spilling over that dream and tried to kill Silco over it, before teaming up with Grayson to continue enforcing a status quo.
So that means that Silco, even as he raises Jinx, is continuing her mother's dream, of building Zaun, a country that's safe for her children, "no matter what".
But very sadly the show also acts like Silco doesn't know the kids, and like the kids don't know him. Powder, sure, but Vi not knowing Silco is just downright stupid. Not even knowing him by name? When her mom was out fighting alongside him??? The mom is ALSO a miner, very clearly working with Silco and Vander, alongside the nameless poor husband.
I feel like this doesn't really solve the issues that were already raised when we speculated about act 1. It just clarifies that Vander was truly, willfully a force of oppression inside the fissures, working against the revolution necessary for Zaun becoming possible.
But it implies Silco didn't recognise Powder and Vi, and that Vi didn't recognise him or understand how he knew Vander. It's a disservice to the story, because that tie, that old bond, could really have worked to dramatize the sacrifices Silco is ready to make, as well as the depth of Vi's hatred for him.
But the show acts like they're strangers and that Vander's death is the core beef between them until Jinx enters the picture.
And then there's the Benzo scene, when Vander holds his wound from Silco's knife, and says "we both know there's worse than enforcers out there" WHO ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT??? Yourself? You seem to be the worst thing around here! It seems clear he knew Silco was alive but had nothing to blame him for by then.
I'm left with holes that take the shape of "shock value" and "plot twist".
"Ooooh Silco knew the mom, twiiiist, but please don't think about the implications, because we wrote season 1 without taking this in consideration."
Feels like another job for fic writers, but IDK if I have the strength for it. I just like my own version better.
At least now we know that Silco did not IN FACT DO anything to "deserve" what he got. I'm sorry, but throwing a molotov at enforcers when fighting for your freedom is based and Vander was dishing death right there next to him.
The base violence necessary for change, eh? Vander just delayed the price being paid for Zaun's creation.
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pennyserenade · 7 months ago
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dear, dark child | thomas shelby x reader
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summary | tommy wakes up from a nightmare and you help him through it. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | 18+, pre-established relationship, unprotected sex, nightmares, mention of drugs, mention of suicide, mention of childbirth, cigarette smoking, mentions of prejudice against romani people, angst, pinv, creampie, dirty talk, rough sex, doggy style. word count | 2.2k+ a/n | this is the first thing i've ever written for tommy, so i think it's safe to say i'm a little nervous to be posting this. in my mind, this is more geared towards season 1 tommy. also, i wrote this all in one afternoon so go easy on me.
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Thomas Shelby is the most handsome augury of death you have ever seen. He has finely carved cheekbones, a glow in his crystalline eyes, lips full and pink and kissed with freckles. His mother walked herself into the cut, and they say there is a madness embedded in them all—his sister, his brothers, the aunt. You stand at the end of his bed, lips parted, looking at him in all of his haunted beauty, as if to say something, but you decide against it. 
In the black of night, he is not as he is in the daylight. There’s a fresh sheen of sweat on his skin, and a look of fear in his eyes. As you stand at the end of his bed, cold, unsure, you mouth out the words: “All is well, Thomas, all is fine.”
He is the Romani boy they say speaks in spells, in curses, who has been othered because they think he is half devil. As a child, he clung to the skirts of his beautiful mother, loved her to the point of anguish. She dreamt of him when he was in her stomach, pictured a raven haired boy who spoke her words, who had her eyes. Tommy learned her language far better than the rest of her children did. His mother knew the world would give itself to this child of her. He would be beautiful, he would be ambitious. He would be cunning, too, and devious. She knew that many times in his life, he would have to figure out how far things could bend before they snapped completely. When she had pushed him out in the dark of a tunnel, she feared nothing. She did not need light to know this child of hers, because he had come to her in dreams. “He’s a boy,” she had told his father, “and his name is Thomas.” He had cried louder than his brother before him, and she knew that in darkness he was born, and that in darkness he would stay. But she laid him upon her bare breast, and promised herself that she would tell him of the light in the world, and she knew that the good in his soul would weed out the bad. This son of hers was not cursed; he was only a child of the night. She would spend the rest of her short life telling him this, and he would never learn it. 
You reach out and touch his trembling hand. Beneath your touch, he is clammy. You feel his present emotions pulsate beneath your fingertips. He is ashamed, afraid, and angry. Before he can speak, utter something he does not mean but won’t take back, you crawl into his bed, onto his lap.
Your mother was like his in many ways, and in your veins you carry on the tradition of knowing. It is for the same reasons he tells people he can charm animals that you pretend you know nothing: to survive.
You know you will love him, and you know he will betray you. When you press your body into his, wrapping your arms around his sweat drenched skin, you do it because you know in this foreboding future of yours that he never meant to, that he is sorry, that he loves you, too. Some things are fated, prewritten, unavoidable and inevitable; the failure to comfort him won’t change the shape of your lives. 
He clings to you, perhaps to his own confusion, and a little to your own. You feel beneath you a mass of frustration, of anger, of fear. You expected something dangerous, something explosive, not this. Though you lurched at him to tame it, you weren’t sure it was going to work; now that he sits beneath you, holding you in the same manner you hold him, you let out a quiet, relieved sigh. 
“It’s okay,” you assure him once more, with more conviction. Your voice is less meek, more your own, the fear of his anger ebbing each second he holds his face to your chest.  
“I’m sorry.” He chokes out, though there’s no tears that wet the cloth of your gown. His fingers clench around your sides, gripping at the fabric, before he pulls back to look up at you. “The things in my fuckin’ head—“
“It’s alright.” Your fingers thread through his damp hair, pushing back the strands that have fallen over his forehead. This is no devil beneath you. Just a man. Just a boy. “You don’t have to explain to me.”
He swallows roughly, falling back onto the pillows behind him. Tommy rubs his hand over his face and sighs. As the frustration coils more tightly in his stomach, you feel anxious—too aware of the emotions in his frame. Your hand touches the skin of his stomach. It is scorching beneath your cool touch, alight with fury, with fear. He hardly knows the difference between the two. 
“Take off your gown,” he says, deep voice still gravelly from sleep. You do, gathering the ends of the fabric up by your waist, then lifting it above your head. 
He has seen you like this many times before. You’re no whore–don’t have the emotional bandwidth to handle it–but you’re certainly no prude. The first time you locked eyes on Thomas Shelby, something more palpable than the spirits told you what he wanted with you. The light in his eye. The tweak of his lips into a smirk. The attraction you felt, passingly, then fully, as he approached you in the pub. You had known this was him, the boy they said was the devil, could see it in his eyes, but did not mind. 
He does not fuck as roughly as others, but he also does not fuck as kindly as you know he has the craving for. He explores your goose pimpled flesh, still in the midst of regaining his composure. His fingers tremble, but he pretends they don’t. Tommy dances them across your bare chest with calculated ease, tweaking an already pert nipple, cupping the tissue into his too warm palm. 
Desire grows inside of him, takes the place of anger. You kiss, hard and fast, because his body is hungry for a fix—stronger than tobacco, better than whiskey, safer than illicit drugs. He grows hard beneath you, and it begins to leak out, gone in moments, the things that made him hot to the touch. He takes your head between his hands, and brushes too affectionately over your jaw. Somethings are too instinctual to stop; this is the good his mother saw, her dream manifested. His body molds into your own, craves a thing he can’t comprehend just yet, because he is too tired, too young, to know what love might begin as. 
Tommy asks you to lay flat on your stomach, but he has a way of requesting things that make them seem like callous demands. The gruff of his voice. The anger that wraps around all of his words, that has done since he got back from war, changed. You might be the only person who does not flinch or take offense. You lie on your stomach, hands tucked beneath his pillow, eyes pressed closed. Sometimes, he puts his mouth on you. To ready you, he explained, and you like that. Tonight he doesn’t seem to be in the mood. He positions himself between your legs, kisses along the arch of your spine, and whispers against your ear, “Ass up, then.” 
There’s nothing to separate you two: no blankets, no articles of clothing, not even the frigid air of his bedroom, the fire long gone out. You feel the head of his cock at your entrance mere seconds before he plunges inside of you. 
You muffle your groan in the pillow beneath you, fingers tightening around the cloth of the sheets, holding on. At first the intrusion of him is too much, a burning chafe, but he slows, holding himself mid thrust inside of you. You feel the hair on his stomach prickle against you as he leans over your body, curling around you, lips touching your shoulder. The tenuous string of connection you have with him grows stronger, less blurred around the edges, more in focus. Inside of you, he feels safe. It’s inexplicable, but you feel it too; comfort even in his roughest touches, knowing he doesn’t mean harm, that he thinks of you, that he wants you. Your body catches up, slick gathering between your legs as he slides himself in again, more slowly. 
His fingers wrap around your neck, cradling your neck more than pressing into your skin. Tommy’s thrusts begin to pick up, and they become more punishing, driving your hips down into the bed. You moan, toes curling, desire pooling in your stomach as your clit rubs passively against the sheets. It’s not enough friction to do anything but drive you insane. 
He moves back up, sitting on his knees, the fingers on his free hand finding the curves at your side. He holds you there, pushing himself in, emitting soft grunts into the still of night as he buries himself inside of you. The bed begins to creak beneath you both. Old as it is, it is never quite prepared for the violence of his movements. He doesn’t care. Let the whole house hear; God knows they’ve done it to him many times before. He needs to bury himself deeply inside of you, to feel the way you clench around him when he guides your head back to look you in the eye. 
Your lips part, wrapping around a quiet moan. Tommy drives his hips against your backside in a determined rhythm, trying to find the part of you that cries out obscenely. He likes you best in positions where you arch, submit, take what he gives happily. His cock hits the top of your walls, and he nods when you finally audibly moan for him, smug. It isn’t enough that you’ve gone slick between your thighs, that his cock is coated in it. More, more, more—for he still is the boy who has not quite learned how far things can bend before they break. 
He rubs his thumb against your bottom lip, and you wrap your warm mouth around it. “You like that?” he grits out, fucking into you roughly, quickly, determined. There’s a new sheen of sweat on his body, mingling with your own in the places you meet. It is better, less acrid than the stuff he was coated in before. 
“I do,” you pant. You reach out and wrap your hand around the metakl frame of the bed. He laughs, though you’re not sure he finds anything funny.
“I know,” he answers, taking his hand from your face, your neck, gripping instead on your shoulder. He pushes you back onto his cock. “Always do like it. Always take everything I give you.”
“Yes.” Your fingers tighten around the bars. Words escape you, thoughts diminishing into emotion, into sensations. His fingers on your skin. His cock in your cunt, hitting the top of you. The entirety of him behind you, up on bended knees, a supposed half devil. A child of the night. The fury of his passion. The swirl of anger he has pushed away. The fear he doesn’t want to come back. He buries it inside of you, these things he cannot say. 
His hips sputter against yours, and it is over: the warmth of his cum fills you, and he wraps an arm around your stomach, pulling you close to him, kissing along your shoulder. 
Tommy isn’t forgetful; his other hand reaches around and finds your neglected clit. His teeth scrape against your flesh as he circles it with his fingers, drawing out more delicious sounds from you. His cum begins to drip down your legs, but he does not mind. You twitch, jut, fight out of his embrace, but he holds tighter, humming in delight because he knows only he can touch you like this. 
“Show me,” he demands, voice rough, “Show me how much you like my cum in you.” 
You reach behind, grip onto his hip. “Tommy,” is all you manage. 
“Show me.” He rubs your clit faster, pressing down harder. His face tucks into your neck. “You’re grateful, aren’t you? That I fuck you so good?” The desire builds in your stomach. He kisses the side of your mouth. “Fuckin’ show me!”
You cum, and it lasts for what feels like an eternity. You register the sensation of his prideful, earnest laughter against your skin, a familiar timbre, an echo that your bones know well. At one moment it’s too much. Then it’s nothing: his hands, his fingers, his cock abandoning you. 
With all of his troubles still leaking onto your thighs, Tommy reaches over to the nightstand to grab a cigarette. “Do you want one?” he asks. There’s no disinterest in his tone—only the monotonous, somber sound of his voice piercing the air. You lay on your stomach, face pressed against the now cool pillow. “Guess that’s a no.” 
The room smells of sex. Not bad, per se, but potent. His smell and yours, sweet and acidic, and something indistinguishable. His hand rests on your back. “Alright?” he asks. 
You turn your head in his direction. “Alright,” you confirm. “And you?”
The cigarette burns orange, the crackle of his inhale filling the space between you. “All is well,” he says, repeating the words you gave him. 
You hum in agreement. Yes, for now, in this moment, in this place, all is well. The darkness cloaks you both, shields you from the future, and nothing can bring you any harm. 
How fortunate it is to know this much.
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 9 months ago
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Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV
Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys
Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy
Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.
Word Count: 6.3K
Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics
A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️
Main Masterlist
Series Masterlist
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January 24, 1919
The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.
Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.
That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.
You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.
You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.
But you always wondered…
When would it be okay?
You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.
You were alone, different, cursed.
The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.
Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.
If you even met him.
No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?
Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.
Because it was impossible.
You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.
You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.
You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.
And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.
When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.
It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.
Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.
Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.
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One Year Ago
You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.
It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.
But today something was different.
Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.
Haircut? No that's not it.
You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.
Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.
Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table.  You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.
Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.
Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.
You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like. 
And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.
You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.
Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.
It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.
You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.
No time to toast it.
You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.
"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.
She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.
And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.
"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.
"Tea later?"
"Mhmm."
"Get some earl gray macaroons!"
You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.
Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.
You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.
Shit.
The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.
You felt free.
You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.
There goes my breakfast.
You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.
But that moment seems to last a lifetime.
He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty,  almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.
As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.
The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.
You'd never felt any of this before.
The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.
He has to…
But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.
"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.
What the hell just happened?
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The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.
You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.
When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.
It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.
But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…
Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.
Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-
He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.
You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.
Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.
Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.
But why him?
You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.
Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?
Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.
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One Year Later: Present Day
You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.
Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.
Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.
And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.
You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.
And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.
But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.
Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.
Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.
You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.
As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.
It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.
You'd understood that.
Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.
It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.
And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.
But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.
You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.
You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.
As if you knew what that meant.
It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?
How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?
It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.
You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.
She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.
You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.
And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.
The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.
You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.
It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.
It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.
You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.
You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.
You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.
Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.
Guess I'm going a little more casual today.
On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.
You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.
Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"
"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.
The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.
Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.
"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself
"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.
"Well-"
"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."
"But-"
Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.
20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.
"Thanks Annie."
"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"
By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.
"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.
"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.
"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.
"Sorry."
"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."
"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"
"Yep."
"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.
"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"
"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.
"Perfect."
The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.
Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.
"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.
"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.
"Who?"
"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.
"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.
"He's just kind of rough-"
"Rough?"
"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."
"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"
Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.
"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."
"Oh."
Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.
"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.
It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.
"Thanks babe."
"What are friends for?"
She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.
That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.
It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.
Maybe that's why he didn't want me.
Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.
The familiar question rises in your head again:
When will it be okay?
Probably never.
You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.
A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.
As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.
The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.
You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.
He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.
All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.
Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.
The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.
You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.
"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.
And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.
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A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂
Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)
Taglist:
@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573
@roseblue373 @52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester
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hedwig221b · 3 months ago
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Hey I’m in the mood for heavy angst. Do you have any were Stiles has an E.D or self harms? Ik it’s dark and totally get it if it’s too far but what can I say? I have a hankering, thanks!🩷
Please, read TWs and tags carefully before proceeding, everyone!
Make Me Skin & Bones (Where The Hell Have You Been) by Kandakicksass
Stiles takes the darkness from the Nemeton a lot harder than Scott and Allison do. Derek comes back after he goes catatonic.
Bleeding Love (In Depth) by BisexualInDisguise
"The first time I kissed you, you became the most important thing in my life. I would do absolutely anything for you and I never want you to doubt that. I would burn the world down for you without hesitation or guilt. So, you call me, anytime, all the time, no matter what. You hear me?” A tear dropped onto his cheek, Stiles’ chest heaving against his own as he struggled not to cry. “I hear you, sourwolf,” Stiles whispered
bones by els31
Stiles developed an eating disorder from his mother when she was going through the stages of Frontotemporal Dementia. After she died, Stiles didn't even realise he was carrying on the bad habit. Years fly by, and Stiles is still doing it, only now, he doesn't even realise that not eating is wrong.
Getting by by Wonkyun
The four times Stiles ignored the little things and the one time he couldn't. "Hiding in my baggy jeans, no one knows my secret." 4+1 fic (kinda)
Spiral Out / Try and Float by UnhingedCosmos
"Didn’t mean to call you.” “—what?” “Hit your number by accident, after Scott hung up.” “Scott did what.” A growl echoed over the phone, “Nevermind that, listen to me Stiles, please—“ Stiles’ eyes trail over his hand loosely clamping the bloody towel over his forearm before flicking over to the top of his phone. 1%
Void by Sivan325, SivanShemesh (Sivan325)
“Get out, Stiles, you are not welcome in my pack anymore, I can’t stand to look at you and see a murderer in front of me, get out.” Scott told him, his eyes flashed red and the rest of the pack didn’t even stand up for him.
In The Hours Before Dawn, There Is A Silence. by TowerGirl
The morning that Stiles leaves no-one notices him go. After two years of werewolves, hunters, and kanimas - Stiles has been pushed to his breaking point. He's getting out of Beacon Hills and he's never looking back. But when you're haunted by your past, can you really leave your ghosts behind? An incredibly beautiful elegy of horror, hurt, hope, and healing. - VtotheFun
Getting Better by TheBadassIsIn
The season 4 rewrite absolutely no one asked for where Stiles actually deals with his trauma from the nogitsune instead of being a-ok with it all and added Sterek.
Silence by AchillesGh0st
Silence, always silence. No matter how many times he calls, whenever the pack are together all he receives is silence. His grades have dropped. The nightmares are back. And his friends? Well, maybe he doesn't have any anymore.
How Can You Say You Love Me? by Blue_Equinox_2
After Stile's mother died Stiles turned to a less than healthy coping strategy. Cutting and restricting food has been his way of coping for several years and sees no end to it in sight. Enter Derek Hale. After seeing the mysterious and brooding Derek, Stiles becomes love struck but the voices in his head tell him that Derek will never return his affections. When Stiles falls prey to his old habits, something is different this time, he's not sure that he wants to ever stop. Cue Derek to save Stiles from himself. or… The one where Stiles has an eating disorder and serious self-harm complex. Things get really bad but he learns that the resident sourwolf might be the one to save him, if he lets himself be loved.
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[masterlist link]
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bodhrancomedy · 10 months ago
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8 Games Which Made Me Bawl My Fucking Eyes Out (in the best way)
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1. A Story Beside
Holy hell, I think the fact I played this one when I was isolating with COVID and terrified my breathing issues were gonna be permanent probably added to my complete sobbing breakdown at the end of this.
Every single chapter is a beautiful gut punch and the ending sequence where you guide Lyric back through her story? Heartbreaking.
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2. I Was a Teenage Exocolonist
This is probably one of my favourite games of all time and certainly one I’ve sunk the most hours into.
The fact that your first run-through is almost guaranteed to be full of failure and missed chances just adds to the pain I felt.
But the bug in the nursery. That’s what got me.
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3. What Remains of Edith Finch
I’m not sure there’s anything I can say about this game which hasn’t been said already.
Each new room puts another knife in your heart as you pull apart the seams of the Finch family curse with Edith as the last survivor.
Gregory was the moment I had to take a break to compose myself.
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4. Story of Seasons: A Wonderful Life
While I think this remake took some of the teeth out of the original, this farm sim which spans the life of your character is full of heartbreaking moments as you raise your child.
Honestly, being allowed to be queer and nonbinary in this game made me bawl because I remember wishing to both be a boy and love men in the older games.
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5. Dragon Quest IV
I could add several of the Dragon Quest games to this list, but after fighting the final boss for nearly two decades, beating this game had me sobbing for hours.
That last scene of Chapter Five had such a tiny little animation of our hero taking off his sword and that send me over the edge.
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6. Bramble: The Mountain King
I don't know where to start with this dark folktale of a game. From tragic monsters to absolute gut punches following great unsettling scares, this journey to save your sister as a scared child ripped my heart in two.
The hell Olle goes through for his protective sister is dear to my heart as a nervous little brother myself.
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7. Citizen Sleeper
The very concept of this RPG is haunting. A construct on the run from the corporation who took your body is sad enough, but the express love of humanity which runs through this? Beautiful.
I'm not very far through and it's already had me in tears twice.
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8. Outer Wilds
I don't think I can say a single thing about this game without completely spoiling it.
Go in blind, but be ready for heavy and sorrowful themes. All I'll say is when you hear the ending theme, have tissues ready.
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alicesivory · 4 months ago
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Haunted [1/3]
main masterlist // next chapter
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pairing: modern! Aemond Targaryen x female reader
warning: none, slight mature themes(these characters are at the age of 18!)
wc: 4182
summary: new neighbors, new problems.
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Summer has ended, and the neighborhood has come alive once again. Multiple cars returned and pulled over in front of their homes, returning from their quick summer getaways.
I didn’t get to do a lot of things this summer. Spent most of my time at Nanna’s, and nothing peculiar happened. Except how nanna’s cat almost got eaten by a wolf. Is that interesting? Well, the cat’s okay now but that’s it I guess. I watched as a couple of girls across the street got out from their car with brand new hairs and brand new tan lines. 
 Even the long-abandoned house beside ours was filled with life. It had been empty for as long as we’ve lived here—ten years—but all of that changed when a moving truck parked in front of the house’s driveway.
They unloaded the truck.
I couldn’t help but to put down my magazine and stare.
Wondering what kind of peculiar people that would buy and move to that old house.
Yes it was big, but it was incredibly old and there was an unsettling aura of that house.
Haunting.
The turck was filled with countless grand furniture.
An antique grandfather clock.
A grand piano.
It wasn’t a surprise to me that the family was apparently wealthy. After all, this wasn’t a lower-class neighborhood; I had to admit, though, there was something extraordinarily rich about our new neighbors. Even wealthier than the lannisters that lived in a neighboring neighborhood.  Shamelessly, I stared through my window as yet another car parked behind the moving truck—a sleek, black, elegant car.
A woman stepped out, her green dress perfectly fitting for the occasion. Her long auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders before she casually pushed a few strands away from her face. Enchantingly beautiful, yet life has certainly aged her.
She took in the neighborhood with a relieved sigh, but I could tell something troubled her as she spoke with the driver who had just stepped out of the car.
A handsome man. Big, expressive eyes. Dark brunette hair.
Dornish?
Dornish descent, I suppose?
But the oddness of this family didn’t end there.
Two others emerged from the car—remarkably… I don’t know how to describe them. They were enchanting. Both had platinum silver hair. Not blonde. Silver—pure silver. Their eyes, I swear, were purple.
A girl and a boy.
They exchanged a smile as they stepped out of the car, breathing in the crisp autumn air on the first day of the season. They looked friendly, but the longer I stare at them, the more uncanny they look as if their pale skin were as beautiful as pearls.
Suddenly, the roar of an engine sped down the wide road—a dangerous pace, if you asked me—but it slowed down and parked right behind the black car.
A sports car. Extremely expensive looking.
Two silver-haired men stepped out, both as beautiful as the others. Their very presence made my heart skip a beat. “Do not speed around the neighborhood, Aegon,” the auburn-haired woman said sternly, addressing the driver who had just stepped out of his car with a look of annoyance on his face.
“The road was empty! I was just having a little fun, Mother.”
Mother?
They certainly didn’t look alike.
I wondered if these were all her children.
Her sigh was heavy as she told everyone to follow her into their new home. But one of them didn’t—he stood outside, scanning the neighborhood with a look I couldn’t quite place.
Was it caution? Disinterest? Something darker?
He was remarkably handsome. But there was something about him that screamed "stay away." His stoic stance was unnerving, his expression cold and unreadable, his face as stern as his posture. Not like the rest of the silver-haired family, who appeared far more approachable. This man… was different.
The longer I stared at him, again- the more uncanny he seemed. His skin was unnaturally pale—as white as snow. His hair was meticulously groomed, and the cool breeze gently tousled his long, luscious silver locks.
A sharp side profile.
I didn’t even realize I was staring until he turned and locked eyes with mine.
Those purple eyes. 
Haunting. Beautiful. Scary.
I quickly ducked down. 
Shit.
I slowly peeked through the window again, anxiety twisting in my stomach. But, to my relief, he was gone. The front porch of the now-occupied house stood empty.
I had once thought that if the house were filled with life, its haunting charm would disappear. But now, the family’s presence made the house seem even more unsettling.
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“It’s surprising to see them moving into that old house,” my mother remarked, peering through our living room window.
“They’re probably from out of town—or even from out of the county,” my father replied, stepping into the room with his usual bowl of fruit. “I mean, look at them! It’s not like they know about the rumors surrounding that house.”
“You do have a point, honey,” my mother agreed, her voice soft with a mix of curiosity and caution.
The three of us stared at the once dark, abandoned house now lit up with life. It was odd, but somehow comforting to see the warmth of a new family settle into the place. “Should we make a friendly gesture? I could bake a cake for them,” my mother said, excitement sparkling in her voice.
“They kind of look scary, Mum,” I said, not entirely convinced.
“I agree,” my father chimed in, munching on a grape. “They look like one of those uptight, rich families that could just spit on us any second.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Maybe they’re not as bad as they seem!” My mother turned to me. “By the way, sweetheart, do you need anything for tomorrow?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m all set.”
Tomorrow was the first day of my last year in high school.
“Well, that still doesn’t stop me from being a good neighbor,” my mother continued, glancing back at the house. “I saw one of them doing gardening!”
“Gardening?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure that wasn’t the guy with the bandage on his eye?”
My father scoffed. “Pfft, gardening. For all we know, they probably just want to keep to themselves.”
“Well, I’ll still try to make a connection, even if it’s just a cake,” my mother insisted, hands on her hips. “Who knows? They might surprise us.”
“I doubt it,” my father muttered.
But despite his words, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this family than met the eye.
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I opened my locker, still struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep. The first day of my last year in high school. Cliché, I thought. But honestly? I couldn’t wait for it to end. I glanced at my schedule—History, Math, Physics, and…Geography. Typical, I guess. I took a deep breath and sighed as I closed my locker door. Fixing my uniform, I was about to enter class before my best friend Elle suddenly appeared, her face full of excitement. She headlocked me as she lead me to the girl’s bathroom.
“Have you heard?” she asked, her voice barely containing her enthusiasm.
I blinked, still half asleep. “What?”
“There’s like these cool rich kids moving into our boarding school,” Elle said, leaning in closer.
Ah, them.
“Oh, they’re our age?” I asked.
Elle's eyes went wide with surprise. “What? You know them?”
“Well, yeah,” I replied. “They’re my neighbors.”
“That’s insane,” she said, her voice rising. “Oh, and I heard they’re related to Jacearys and Lucerys.”
“The Velaryons? Those rich-popular kids below us?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah! Like, first cousins or something like that.”
“Now THAT’s insane,” I muttered. “They look nothing like each other.”
Elle laughed. “Right? They don’t even seem to be from the same family. But- don’t tell anyone I told you this but…I heard from a little birdie that the Velaryon’s mum had an affair and the reason why they don’t look like those silver haired was because they all resemble their biological dad."
We shared a knowing look.
Before snorting and laughing how silly it was, talking about all of this bullshit.
Elle took out her cigarette pack from her uniform skirt pocket. “It’s gonna be one hell of a year,” she said. “At least we got them to keep us entertained.”
I took a stick out of her pack.
“You sure you’re not gonna ask one of them out?” I asked, lighting my cigarette and puffed out a smoke downwards.
“Probably the cute one. Darren? Daeron?”
I chuckled at that statement.
The first day went by in a blur of introductions and routine. But it wasn’t until Geography that the day really started to get interesting.
I entered the classroom, my eyes scanning for a seat. The desks were arranged in neat rows, and there—sitting in the front, almost as if he’d claimed it as his own—was him.
The silver-haired man from next door. I had only seen him from afar before, but here, in the classroom, he looked even more striking. His pale skin seemed almost unnatural, like pearls, and his long silver hair cascaded around his shoulders. His posture was rigid, his expression set in that same cool, almost distant manner I’d noticed before.
I took a seat beside Elle at the back of the class. Glancing towards his direction from time to time. Guess other girls and boys were also curious about him, but no one dared to approach him as class started.
He was a smart student. But, not a boaster.
“Aemond, it seems Jason has failed to mention where the ancient trading took place across the narrow sea. Care to remind him?” Our teacher sharply said.
Aemond could only stoically answer, “There is regular trade across the narrow sea between the two continents and the Port of Ibben.”
“Correct, Mr. Targaryen! The Port of Ibben. Since the Dawn Age, the port has been known-,”
I couldn’t bring myself to listen any longer; all I could do was stare at him.
Aemond Targaryen.
I pedaled my bike and finally made it home. Nothing peculiar happened, but I noticed how Aemond just pulled on the driveway two hours after school had ended.
Huh…maybe he took extra classes? Extracurriculars? Student Council?
But it’s just the first day of school-.
“Sweetie, are you okay?”
I haven’t touched my food for the past five minutes as I was busy staring at the Targaryen’s front porch. Just as Aemond disappeared into his own home.
“Y-yeah…sorry, mum,” I muttered embarassingly.
Once I was done with dinner, I tossed my school bag onto the bed before hitting the showers and changed into something more comfortable.
I sighed, plopping down to bed as I stared into the ceiling. Everything was too quiet, and before I knew it, my mind started to wander to Aemond once again. He was strikingly haunting, different from any other guy at school.
Gosh, snap out of it.
You're not the only one who noticed him.
Everyone wants to be something in his life.
I groaned with frustration as I rubbed my face.
I took out my phone, played a random playlist, and did my night routine. Trying to distract my brain from that particular pretty boy. It worked for a while as I continued to distract myself with my nightly text messaging with Ellee. Laughing at the memes she sent me.
As the clock struck midnight. It was time to call it a day. Getting up from the bed, I walked over to turn off the lights. I looked over at my window, and the moon shone down on the empty street of our neighborhood, casting a soft glow over my room.
Sleep wasn’t coming. My mind wouldn’t shut off.
I sighed and turned toward the window, hoping the fresh night air might clear my thoughts.
I don’t know why I did it.
My eyes always end up drifting to that house. Maybe it’s the way the lights shine out of his room, or maybe I’m just curious about what someone like him does when he thinks no one’s watching.
I didn’t expect what happened next.
I stood by my window, just staring into the night, watching the house next door. The warmth of the lights from inside his room flickered like a candle, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to reach across the walls. For a moment, I almost felt like I was invading his privacy, but something pulled me closer to the window. Maybe it was just curiosity… Or maybe it was something else.
And then, there he was.
I stood there, quietly, just watching. The room was dimly lit, but enough for me to make out his figure moving around.
Aemond.
I don’t know why I thought it would be any different, but seeing him there, in the soft, golden light. He was a creature from another world.
I watched as he slowly undressed, peeling off his school uniform like it was nothing. His movements were fluid, almost hypnotic, as if he knew how captivating he looked. And maybe he did. My face began to heat up. This is wrong- but I couldn’t look away.
And there was a woman, wrapping her arms around him from behind.
He took off his shirt, and for a moment, he was just a silhouette against the light. But then, as the shadows shifted, the full extent of his pale skin became clear, almost ghostly under the light, like he wasn’t quite real. Every muscle, every detail was sharp and defined, but there was something wrong about how perfect he looked. It was unnatural.
They started to kiss as he pinned her down to the bed. 
This is an invasion of privacy. I shouldn’t be looking. Whoever he’s sleeping with, it’s none of my business! None-.
And then—he took off the bandage.
I don’t know what I expected, but I certainly didn’t expect what I saw. The way the light caught his face, his skin, the jagged, subtle scar that ran beneath the bandage—it was almost like something out of a nightmare. The scar itself was… disturbing. I don’t know how to explain it, but it looked almost like it didn’t belong there.
He then resumed to make love to that woman. It was passionate as my cheeks flushed, embarrassed to be…watching. 
And then, in that moment, the light shifted again, catching off his skin in just the right way. It reflected off the scar—and I knew, he knew. He saw me.
My heart stopped.
We locked eyes across the distance, and for a split second, it felt like the world froze. I didn’t even know how to react. It was like he was staring right through me.
I could barely breathe as he kept making love to that woman while looking straight at me. 
It was psychotic.
Some sick and twisted game.
My pulse was racing.
I felt the weight of his stare still on me, like his eyes were burning into me.
Tears pooled in my eyes, I roughly closed the blinds before cowering.
I shut my eyes and covered my ears as guilt started to eat me alive. I don’t know what to make of any of this. But I do know one thing. Whatever it is… I can’t escape it. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to.
I avoided him and his family, day and night, as if they were ghosts haunting the edges of my world. Every time my mom asked me to accompany her to deliver a cake to the Targaryens, I found some excuse to refuse. Guilt, shame, and embarrassment gnawed at me, an endless loop of discomfort.
I couldn’t face him. Not after everything that had happened. I had spent days, then weeks, avoiding him in class, avoiding his presence, as though I could outrun the strange connection that seemed to linger between us. Even at home, I kept the blinds shut at all times.
But everything changed when I was at the library, tucked into the quiet corner, completely lost in my unfinished book. The pages blurred together as I dive deep into my own world that resulted in me not noticing the heavy footsteps approaching.
Then, his voice sliced through the stillness. My name escaped his lips, it sounded so elegant with his little Valyrian accent.
I froze, heart pounding in my chest, my breath caught in my throat. I slowly lifted my eyes, and there he was—Aemond—towering over me, his gaze cold and piercing, an intimidating presence that seemed to fill the entire space around him. I could feel the weight of his stare, like he was analyzing every little detail of me.
“You’re good with history, aren’t you?” His voice was low and direct, a question, though not really one—it felt more like a statement.
“Y-yes,” I stammered, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and strange words.
An awkward silence. 
“I shall pair up with you for our upcoming project,” he continued, his tone unwavering and final.
“Huh?” I blinked.
Was this some kind of joke?
“I will submit our names to Sir Orwyle. We will start the project tomorrow at 4,my house. Do not be late,” he said, turning on his heel without waiting for any sort of response. His footsteps echoed as he walked away, leaving me completely speechless, stunned in place.
I couldn’t even manage more than a few words. “Wait, what?” was all I could mutter, but it was too late—he was already gone, disappearing into the maze of bookshelves.
I just sat there, frozen. I had no idea how I had ended up here, in this strange situation with him.
I closed my book with a sigh, the weight of the world pressing down on me. I hated how awkward and misplaced this all felt. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. My thoughts were a mess, filled with guilt, confusion, and the deep, gnawing desire to just hide away from it all.
The next thing I knew, I found myself standing in front of the door, my finger hovering nervously over the doorbell of his home. A house I never imagined I’d step foot in. The tension in the air was thick, and I could feel my palms sweating as I fidgeted with my hands, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind. I pressed the doorbell.
The door swung open, standing before me was the auburn-haired lady—Aemond's mother, I assumed. She was even more beautiful up close, her hazel eyes wide in mild surprise as she looked me over.
She greeted me, her voice smooth and elegant, with a warmth that immediately put me at ease, though I couldn't shake the nervous flutter in my chest.
"Uh... yes, Mrs. Targaryen—" I started, but she quickly cut me off.
"Call me Alicent, dear," she said kindly, her smile reassuring, almost comforting. She reached out and placed her hands on my shoulders, her touch gentle, but her eyes were scanning me, as if she were measuring me up. There was something in her gaze, almost like... relief?
"I’ve been expecting you. Aemond told me you’d be working on a school project together," she continued, her voice was surprisingly welcoming with a hint of warmth.
So, he had told her about the project.
"Yes, Mrs. Targaryen—uh, I mean, Alicent," I corrected myself, awkwardly shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "I’m sorry for the sudden visit. I wasn’t sure—"
"No need to apologize, dear," Alicent interrupted, her voice soft but reassuring. "I've heard so much about you from your mother. It's a shame we haven't met sooner."
I smiled awkwardly, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly.
"Aemond’s upstairs. First room to the left, dear. Go on up; I’m sure he’s waiting for you."
I nodded quickly, grateful for her warm demeanor and the direction. The house was grand, every detail more elegant than the last. I had expected wealth, but seeing it firsthand was a different experience entirely. I made my way up the staircase, each step seeming to echo louder than the last. I’ve finally reached his room, taking a deep breath before I knock on the door.
Aemond sitting in front of his desk, his silver hair falling like a waterfall down his shoulders. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a desk lamp near the window.
“How do you greet someone in Valyrian?”
"I—I’m sorry?" I blurted out, not sure what else to say.
He raised an eyebrow, but his lips twitched, almost impatient "Rystas.”
I nodded, unsure of how to act around him. The last thing I wanted was to make things more awkward, but standing in his room, with his eyes on me, felt like stepping into a world that was just out of reach.
A world that I had no idea how to navigate.
I swallowed hard and took a tentative step forward.
“You know,” he began, his tone softer than usual, “the project isn’t just about history in the conventional sense. It’s about the past, about the old world. The one we’ve lost.”
I blinked, unsure of what he meant.
“Old Valyria,” he said. “A place lost to time, a place that no one truly understands anymore, but that still holds its grip on me.”
I stared at him, my mind racing to catch up with the depth of what he was saying. The Doom of Valyria—the catastrophic event that shattered the once-great Valyrian Freehold—was a topic that was barely touched in school, its mysteries still mostly locked away in forgotten texts. Visiting the ruins of Old Valyria is actually illegal now.
“Are you going to stand there the whole day? Gods, it takes you three working days to process.”
I blushed embarrassingly. “S-sorry-,”
“Just sit down.”
I closed the door behind me and quickly sat on his chair while he sat on the edge of his own bed.
“You’re…Valyrian descendant?” I finally had the courage to ask. To speak.
Aemond nodded, “Yes.”
“I can’t seem to…help you in this project. You seem to know more than me,” I shrugged as I looked at him sheepishly. “But it’s a group-pair project, isn’t it?” Aemond corrected me in some way.
“But…I…before this goes any further, I would like to apologise about the other night. It was very inappropriate for me to do. I should have minded my own business.”
My palms started to sweat as I looked down with guilt and shame. Not daring to face him.
Aemond was silent for a long moment, and I could feel the tension in the room grow thicker.
Aemond sighed, rubbing his face. "You're making it worse by apologizing," he said, a little frustrated.
"I didn’t ask for an apology."
"But—" I started, but he cut me off with a wave of his hand.
“Forget it,” he said, his gaze softening just slightly. “What’s done is done.”
I nodded, but the guilt didn’t entirely leave. His words, though dismissive, didn’t erase the lingering discomfort in the pit of my stomach. But at least he wasn’t angry. That was something.
“Now,” Aemond said, his voice shifting into something more matter-of-fact, "about the project."
He stood up from the bed, crossing the room toward the desk, he grabbed a book from the shelf and turned back toward me.
“I’m not here to teach you about Valyria,” he said, opening the book and flipping through the pages. "But I suppose... since you're here, I can give you the basics. It’s not like I have a choice in this matter, do I?"
I swallowed, a knot forming in my throat. “I didn’t mean to get in your way.”
"You didn’t." His eyes met mine again, briefly, before returning to the book in his hands. “I’ll make this simple.” He flipped the book closed and laid it down on the desk in front of me. He opened his mouth, wanting to start before he saw my nervous expression, after a beat, he gave a short, dry laugh. “You always look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I blinked, a little startled by the shift in tone. “I just... I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” His lips curled into a half-smile, the first sign of anything even remotely approachable from him. His one purple eye staring deeply into mine. Like as if..
"Not yet, anyway. Just... try to keep up."
It was a strange, almost unsettling thing to see him smile—if it could even be called that. There was something behind it, something darker that I didn’t yet understand.
And just like that, the conversation shifted again. Aemond went back to his desk, opened his book once more, and began outlining what needed to be done for the project.
But the feeling in the room hadn’t changed. It was still charged, still heavy. And I couldn’t help but feel as though I’d just stepped into something far bigger than I ever intended to.
“Have you ever heard of blood rituals?”
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a/n: it has almost been a year since I disappeared😭IM SORRY!!! College has been stressing me out and i had writer’s block…esp for ‘Old Habits Die Hard’ but here’s a new story I’ve been wanting to write. I’ve always wanted to make the Targaryens out of touch from this world- a little uncanny. So…this is the first part of this new series! Again, Aemond is 18 in this story and the reader is also 18! I didn’t want to make this story too fast or complicated, for now it’s an introduction of the story, stay tuned for part 2!
At first I wanted to make it a one shot fic but I don’t want the story to be jumpy or fast paced (even a 3 part series is too jumpy for me) but I hope I can execute it right. Thank you for reading!!🫀
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sunrisesinthesuburbs · 1 month ago
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🌸 my good omens fics 🌸
it's about time I do a masterpost about all of my fics! thank you for the constant support 💘
canon fics:
🌸 in the cracks of light, I dreamed of you (T, 60k, 7/7): post season 2 fix it, angst with a happy ending, season 3 speculation; my very first good omens fic! Aziraphale fails Heaven's test, Crowley drives the getaway car, they need to find their way back to each other while finding a way to save the world. Piece of cake!
🌸 how you've haunted me (E, 10k, 1/1): post canon, getting more together, south downs cottage; an angel and demon move in together and learn many things about one another, while also learning to stop assuming things about one another.
alternate universes:
🌸 Borrowed Words (M, 94k, 13/13): human AU, lovers to strangers to friends to lovers, second chances, small towns; writer Crowley meets the long lost love of his life after twenty three years of no contact. Aziraphale has now custody of his niece, Crowley has writer's block and is navigating life after an Accident, and the small town where they meet again may be just what they both need.
this work is part of a series: so I'll borrow words from all my favourite paragraphs, which contains two other works with the og:
💘 as I said in my letters (T, 5k 1/1): set after the last chapter of Borrowed Words but before the epilogue, a silly little addition about caring and being cared for.
💘 Picture You (T, 9k, 1/1): scenes from Borrowed Words, Aziraphale's Version. A collection of nine scenes over the years, missing and codas from the original work from Aziraphale's point of view.
🌸 and salt the Earth behind you (E, 59k, 9/9): human AU, forbidden relationship, murder mystery; detective (profiler, actually) Aziraphale should have dropped C.I Crowley the moment he realized he was falling in love with him. Now they have a string of murders to solve, and no intention to let each other go.
🌸 Beautiful Things (M, 65k, 12/12): human AU, strangers to lovers, forced proximity, weaponized coziness; two disgraced London snobs are sent to the Isle of Skye to... 'recharge'. New neighbours and temporary owners of identical cottages, they fall in love with the island, with the part of themselves they thought they lost and with each other, of course. featuring Fluffy the dog!
this work is part of a series: to the moon and to saturn, which contains one another work:
💘 you and me, always forever (T, 6k, 1/1): Valentine's Day sequel where Aziraphale and Crowley, back in London, became dog grandparents! Panic and sweetness ensues.
🌸 every day is a holiday (when I'm near to you) (M, 59k, 6/6): human AU, best friends to lovers, fake dating, Christmas; when Aziraphale's former homophobic brother invites him to his wedding (to a man!), a ten day extravaganza in the Maldives at Christmas, bringing his best friend Crowley as his plus one seems the only logical thing to do to survive. Surely no long-buried feelings will come to the surface, right?
🌸 the taste that your lips allow (M, 90k, 12/12): vampire AU, strangers to lovers, magic and humor; not-ordinary vampire Crowley meets Aziraphale-like-the-angel in a downpour, and his whole life changes. Falling in love for the first time while the new management of the Honorable Ensemble of London's Lurkers (you guessed it, H.E.L.L.) wants you dead may be a bit chaotic, but all the best love stories are messy. featuring witches, spells, artificial blood and antiques!
fan project:
🌸 little by little (T, 16k, 11/11): eleven ficlets I wrote off of prompts people sent me on tumblr in exchange for donations to one of four charities working against gender based violence. 11 ficlets, canon and AUs, all under 2k words!
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zluty-spendlik · 11 months ago
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WAKFU REDESIGN AND REWRITE SERIES PART 2
Yugo
Okay I really should've started with Yugo but I just had so many ideas for Eva I had to let it out. (link to part 1 here)
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And with Yugo, I have the exact opposite feelings, because... he's fine. He's the main character, he's a kid, he acts like a kid, he's very thoughtful and kind... I don't have any issues with his character.
But! Theres still ideas i have!
For example, I never quite liked the idea of Yugo being the Eliatrope king and yeah, I know hes a child but he never really... gave me leader vibes, yk? Tbh compared to Adamaï he severely lacks the assertive personality. After finding out that hes the last airbender Eliatrope, he doesnt even care for the culture much. Or like- at all? Hes mostly excited about his superpowers- AND THATS FINE, hes a literal child, but still... a supposed king.
So either make him more invested in his people (you could make a whole arc outta that! He gets hyperfixated on figuring his heritage out he forgets about the here and now - tho that really does sound more like Adamaï) OR make him state outloud that he already has a life and doesnt want to start another one! He likes his friends and adventures and doesnt need anything else... until he does. Make him grow and find parts of himself he didnt even know were missing. New values, a culture he can be a part of!
(Also AU where Yugo actually cant use his powers properly so they only inconvenience him (like accidentally teleporting his stuff) and he tries to stay away from his heritage as long as possible until Grougal is just forced to drag him out the house is so entertaining 2 me istg)
So im fine with the story Qilby has spun, where he and Shinonome are the leaders cause HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE?? And anyway, the Adventure duo finding out about Qilbys betrayal through random goofy shenanigans seems pretty in character lmao
Design
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I like Yugos design (except for the shoes, they absolutely haunt me) so I mostly just put my own spin on it rather than changing it radically. I briefly debated on giving him a tail or more dragon-like features but then I realized he lived a normal life before all this lol the village would PROLLY NOTICE
Tho it finally hit me that Eliatropes cleatly have deer features- like the little fur thingy at the end of the Eliatrope cap resembling a deer tail??? How did I not notice that??? But I think his s4 outfit resembles a bat way more so idk?
I gave him white freckles like the bambi spots and light blue "wakfu" spots on the back instead of the runes on his chest he has in the Qilby final boss fight. Also I couldnt decide which outfit I like more for s1-2 so which one do u guys like more?
I havent watched season 3-4 but I did a potential s3 Yugo look as well, I had fun :))
Yugo art dump
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thesensteawitch · 4 months ago
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An Urgent Message From The DIVINE 🕯️🕉️
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Pick A Pile Reading
(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)
Hey, beautiful souls. This reading will reveal what the divine wants you to know at this moment. This is a timeless tarot reading. 🤍
If you wish to book a personal tarot reading with me reach out to me on the link mentioned below:
Tarot Reading Booking (The rate card will be provided and other details will be discussed. 💛)
Pile 1
Pink & Blue Sky ☁️
On the 14th of March, as the sun transits (sidereal) from Aquarius to the sign of Pisces, your imaginations will magnify. Will you use your curiosity to create something extraordinary, or will you fall into the abyss of illusions, losing your grip on consciousness? The past will try to hold you back, but if you choose, it can be the very force that pushes you toward your destiny. Your destiny wants to take you to a whole new world where freedom, joy, and wish fulfillment exist. Your new life is going to cost the old one. Sacrifice is the fortune of a seeker. Be willing, my friend. Let go of what you've lost. There's no value left in those empty cups. Pick up what's still left and surprise yourself with the wonders you can hunt. Run away from the haunted house. Seek good spirits. Don't waste your energy hunting the scary ones just because a few bystanders are praising your courage. They don't know that life can be easier for you and yours is meant for beautiful things. There's no pride in being the martyr. Stop fighting; stop doing too much. The rules of your new world are different, and their fulfillment doesn't come with losing yourself in the process. It comes with realizing who you are and where you belong. Life is about to get easier for you. 717 🕊️🌨️
Pile 2
Firefly 🔥
There is no shortcut to completing your soul's mission. How long are you willing to live your life saying, “Oh, I'll manage.” For how long do you want to just keep managing? Be smart on your journey, but do not try to walk fast. There's something you're misunderstanding. Being original and being similar are two different things. The divine does not want you to settle for less in life. Do not look for temporary fixes in your relationship and your career. Today you may fix something temporarily & quickly, but tomorrow the same problem will show itself again as it's not dealt with from its root. What someone took 10 months to achieve, you may do in 7 months, but you cannot do it in a week. Try growing a tree, and you'll learn patience. I do see a new beginning in your career/relationship is coming your way, but do not accept the offer instantly. See if the job offer or the person is compatible with you and your dreams. If you've been putting efforts in multiple directions, then know they are going to bring fruitful results. And all of these plants bearing fruit will create a beautiful garden that you didn't imagine could happen for you. I also see new ideas after new ideas will come to you as you keep moving forward in your journey. Protect your blessings at all costs. Show strength during opposition. If by any chance you think you can't multitask, you're so wrong. You can grow the whole garden. What makes you think you're worth just a tree? Do not settle. 3131🕯️
Pile 3
Phone Booth 📞
As the temperature is rising and you're moving from one season to another, a major ending is also headed your way. The old reality that you've been walking away from is nowhere going to be seen when you look back. You're about to reach your destination. This journey may have begun 6 months ago. Look back only to see how much you've grown and how far you've come. This destination is not something that you're only going to experience energetically. In fact, you'll see shifts that you can witness with your eyes and touch with your hands. Some of you may even be changing homes or relocating. Any one thing you've been highly focused on and taking care of is growing tenfold. I see that the divine is aligning many great opportunities for you. Take things slow; you do not need to take too many tasks in excitement. I also see you meeting someone who is going to be a part of your soul family. Marriage and commitment are also on the cards for some of you. The divine has kept you in a period of winter to make you meet your person when the season is right. A long-awaited wish of yours is coming true, and for many of you, it has to do with something love: an equal, stable, and long-lasting connection. You're about to meet someone you can rely on. It was hard for you to let go of the stubborn thoughts, but you did it as you realized there's nothing but dead flowers and leafless trees. It's time for you to enter the next season where trees grow new leaves. 456💝
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huggywuggysuppy · 3 months ago
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hi i just read your e!gem post (same anon) and yeah. e!gem is such a fantastic character 💜💚 i don't have much to say that you practically touched all the points as to why gem's pov and her character in empires felt so special to me 🏔
but now i'm interested in your traffic!gem thoughts, because she's also one of my favorite blorbos to think about; on one hand she's really difficult to crack because a lot of things don't really seem to face her (at least after secret life) and she like, barely creates attachment to material things. on the other hand, her relationship with pearl does help to know gem as a character better because of how uniquely they treat each other (both in sl and wl).
i definitely think she tries to put a facade of "i don't heavily care about death or anything because this is all a game" while also constantly bringing back secret life, almost like that season and what happened (end portal, eye taken 'against her will', a camel and the weight of leadership she never desired) haunts her to some degree that she won't ever admit outloud. some things she brings back are certainly remembered with fondness (her saving that camel during ep6 and then making sure it stayed safe in the barn... you could tell she missed pearl) and others are not (she does not like sacrifices after sl).
the idea that a celestial being, who had been boundless all her life and held control over every aspect of her existence, now keeps coming back to the games because she wants to recuperate what, for the first time in all her life, she lost during sl (her agency? control? freedom?) is an interpretation i'm a fan of rn, but ofc there's so many other things you can delve into (i could rant way more about how she actually is her own biggest enemy and that ties into her trying to not care too much about people and stuff after sl but it’s kinda late lol).
as for fic recs, i definitely recommend this series from dustaundonut (https://archiveofourown.org/series/2796937) basically a canon divergence that explores a reality where corrupted!gem isn't cured, roseblings are really nuanced and complex, shinyduo is shinyduo, and the world is still moving forward. updates for the main fic are slow, but it’s still soooo worth it for the great narrative. one of my faves ever
(also i do think someone should put all gem variants in one room and see which one comes out of the room as a better person and which leaves wanting to commit more crimes)
Hey !! Thank you for all of this !! I’m so proud of my Empires 1 Gem analysis, glad you enjoyed and extra happy you want to hear more :)
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I'll do my best.
Traffic Gem’s theme is control. She is constantly fighting to maintain it, to get it back, to pretend she has it, while the whole world makes it their mission to take it from her. She’s a trophy, threat, leader, lover, and at the end of the day: she is and has lost. The tragedy of Gem is her inability to fulfill her full potential, how her situation leaves her no option but to resign, giving a glimpse into what could have been if she was allowed. And the triumph of Gem is when she rejects that, spins things around so her only option is committing, delighting not in the spoils but in the hunt.
Gem is wonderfully difficult to pick apart, with Traffic!Gem as the worst offender -- most of my #analysis were posted during WL trying to figure her out. But the fun is in discovering another aspect/layer that completely changes an interpretation. All to say: this isn't my first crack at Traffic Gem, and it certainly won't be the last. Written mostly in January, I was gonna wait till I had a companion fic to post with this (EDIT: now posted!) but Simple Life April Fools spelled soooo much out, I can't resist posting now. Enough disclaimers, let’s get into the great Gem analysis!
Traffic Gem, willingly or not, is the villain of everyone's story. Even her own.
Gem (and most other mcyts) are very utilitarian with adapting to what reputation is thrust on them: as it's the smartest decision if she wants efficient power/control over the situation. There's less legwork for her in establishing motive, skillset, tone, etc. and makes her very accessible to other players: they already know her story and can work around/within it. Her HC intro season having a cottagecore theme and really her cute girl aesthetic in general is fitting into a marketable stereotype that she can then go on to subvert. And this is the fun of CC's in general, especially for the audience! The difference comes in how freely they're able to act.
In every season Gem is sought after by others: defending them, being a target, challenging them to act. If she's standing near someone, she can't be ignored, and people are always seeking her out. Many other traffic villains (Scar, Martyn) don't try taking leader at the same time, and the few that have (Ren, Lizzie) dedicate their time entirely to managing it. Gem has the worst combination because she can't turn it off: she's too aware of playing the physical and social game (and playing it well) to not lead. Because of her skill she must be used and fought against. Funnily enough Scott has this same problem, which is why he usually attaches to someone with a similarly strong reputation (social and/or skill) to mask his movements. Grian also falls victim, but his position as gamemaster and first victor often takes the heat off: people trust him to prioritize lore and not overextend. Obviously Gem and Scott would also like to RP, have you seen them, but to individual players it's more tactical to be wary.
So Gem is caught in a terrible cycle. If she embraces her villain leadership status, she has power over the server, but will never catch a break or get to tell any other type of story. And if she tries to reject her reputation, an uphill battle on its own, she'll be targeted anyway for an entire season, without the allies to block the bullets. She still finds ways to thrive in subversion: Gem explicitly follows the rules of the Life Series to the letter: passive till it kills her, because everyone's expecting her to murder from the start. Gem loves playing the villain, her SL aesthetic lives rent free forever, but also longs for peaceful episode segments and initiating her own shenanigans -- which can only come when others are independent. Oddly, I think Real Life demonstrates her ideal vibe: everyone was a lot more laid back so while she was still feared and followed, it wasn't stopping her from having fun. Meanwhile, Simple Life is her nightmare. All this to say: Gem has a lot of complex emotions around embracing slash being forced into villainy and leadership.
Gem uses this reputation for her benefit. She doesn't have much choice.
Let's talk about how other players see her, and what she does about it. Gem was typecast as everyone’s antagonist before she even entered the games. Subbing in for Cleo with her only direction as “Kill Etho if you can” only cemented her reputation. In her actual seasons, she shows sportsmanship with her kills, but rarely seems (or really has reason to be) apologetic for them. Gem takes initiative to gear up and becomes a problem if left alone too long, all the while grinning behind honeyed words and pretty walls. And even regardless of any actions, she’s known for pvp and building prowess, cutting wit, and seemingly effortless control over most situations. If Gem's this deadly when she's forced to hold herself back, what is she like at full power? She can never be under the radar because Gem’s entire existence is a challenge.
The contrast between SL and WL is insane. SL feels like a joyride: she’s got her historically closest allies and they’re completely loyal, the server is entirely at her mercy either in competitions and dragon fights or actively hunted as prey, she even gets to rp toxic yuri with no consequences! And then in the final hour her hubris blinds her to both Scar and Pearl's feelings, and she dies in disgrace. WL Gem is significantly more skittish: narrowing her field of view to only a few goals and broadcasting how uncomfortable she is with everyone paying attention to her all the time. Making a point not to tryhard for kills, merely surviving out of obligation, Gem acts like she's given up everything. She's trapped by the narrative, so she stops fighting against the current. Obviously, at least.
And the other players are clearly off balance from this change. They're unsure whether to fear Gem's machinations as if she was at the height of her boogeyman army, or to hang out sympathetically at her base. Most opt to take the safe route and target her anyway: only to face tauntingly little resistance as she uses their attempts as evidence to her innocence. Is her head still a trophy if she stands still under your minecart? Why are you making her a more dangerous color? Gem admits she played "aggressively passive:" her offense was a manipulatively weak defense. It aims to disorient others and gain sympathy for herself. There's a clear rebranding effort at play, all to change popular opinion towards Gem into something favorable.
Lifelong Allies (by accepting they all want you dead.)
After SL, Gem changes targets from directly winning to interpersonal goals. She’s already demonstrated her strength, though learned the hard way that nobody will ever leave her alone long enough to safely take her win. And since she's joined late, there's no foundation of trust or love to fall back on -- if anything, she's almost ostracized -- so now she chooses to build one. Gem needs strong allies, but even stronger ties to her enemies. If Grian and/or Pearl hadn’t intervened, had they gone for the other enemy instead, she almost certainly would’ve been crowned. Don’t be fooled by her facade: Gem never gave up on winning. Everything she does in WL is setup for her next Red rampage.
If there’s anything she learned from Scott, it’s having relationships everywhere. She wants to have a stronger tie to them so that when it comes down to a 2v1, the worse side isn’t Gem. They don’t have to love her or even want her to win, they just have to want the other person to lose more. To do this, Gem butters up every player -- she only truly denounces the G's, everyone else receives kindness and civility. She also constantly calls out the enormous target on her back, both for sympathy, but also making every attempt on her life impersonal. If everyone’s targeting her, she has no reason to be enemies with you even if you do kill her. She's friendly, if blunt, and competent enough to deserve the win, if only everyone would leave her alone! Boldly, to an almost insane degree, Gem is trying to circumvent her reputation as "Biggest Threat" into "Enemy Of Your Enemy."
Why team with Joel? As she's building bridges with all players, she also covers her tracks with the other greatest threats. Among Grian, Scar, Martyn, and arguably Etho, (all of which she also dedicates extra time to befriending,) Joel is the best fit for her mission. Loyal to the grave, there's no risk of a surprise betrayal. He doesn’t put much effort into peace talks or reputation, so he’s a perfect contrast against the smiling, hands up, ‘peaceful’ Gem. Although aggressively lore-phobic: often off-setting the tone of her story moments (most glaringly trying to kill Pearl in the finale while they’re talking,) even that demonstrates her being a storyteller instead of a sweat. He’s also competent and the perfect Champion: their team does win as a group effort. She directs him towards targets, quietly takes heat off him, and they keep each other alive to the finale. Gem more or less succeeds with Joel, and establishes her position as unfairly targeted, mostly harmless, maybe there's someone better to go after...
But Gem can't befriend everyone. …Unless (and they never got off that camel.)
Singling out the G’s fits perfectly into her “enemy of your enemy” plan, since EVERYONE can get behind stopping GGG. The G’s are the only other team that faced constant sweat allegations, despite their clear intent to infight and do lore -- something Gem clocks as she's experiencing the same thing. Also, the G's have an arsenal of messy dynamics with everyone from past series and many would target them before Gem. Beyond that, it's implausible to befriend everyone, nevermind the stigma when you're called out on being a floater (BDubs, Impulse.) But more than any convenience or necessity: Gem loves a nemesis. To say nothing of entertaining content: if her attention seems focused on someone else, she's not aiming for you, and they're both getting weaker in the process. Though, that only actually hurts Gem if her and her enemy are properly fighting.
Pearl sees through exactly what Gem is doing. If anyone's an expert on being trapped by the popular narrative, it's Pearl. As such, Pearl doesn't want to win, and only really cares about uplifting her loved ones -- and having chaotic fun while she's at it. She's the only player (except maybe Grian) who doesn't want to kill Gem, for reputation or for a safe victory. Sure, she's pressured into it by Gem's promise of a 1v1 on red, but that’s all in service of murder camel reuniting. Her attempts are half-hearted, and Gem only fights back when a third party gets involved (poor Impulse), maintaining the enemies illusion while functionally just having fun/RP. (Not that I think Pearl ever wants to be bloodthirsty 5 AM again anyway, although Gem sure does.) Pearl also takes a “yes, and” attitude to everything Gem does ever, and willingly slides into the role she needs Pearl to be: pulling more attention than Gem, and (depending on what the players/you're looking for) villainous and/or heroic while she’s at it. As long as Impulse is off the radar (and he is compared to the dramatic GGG), Pearl is fine with whatever. And Gem serves her in return: an undeniable threat to target despite Pearl’s allies’ objections. There's enormous flexibility in the storyline too: since neither of them really care about the 2v1, or trying to win this time for that matter, they can spend as much time as they want taking it in any direction. In a quiet, twisted way, being Gem’s nemesis is the best way Pearl can help her.
(Eternal dynamic of Pearl, willing to jump headfirst into whatever Gem's up to, not caring about what'll happen to her own reputation, or even fate, so long as it helps Gem and makes her happy. That unconditional safety allowing Gem to reach higher, unleash her full potential, and having a safe place to land if she falls. And she uses that power to take care of Pearl in return ohghghhh. For the shippy interpretation, I direct you to my ao3 :)
Of course there are consequences to this playstyle. The G’s are very scary on their own to be enemies of, although Gem has unusually strong relationships with all four, so they probably won’t hold a long lasting grudge. Maybe. Moreover, Gem is publicly called out for her unreasonable beef with Pearl, the consequences of which may create an actual enemy in the future if Pearl ever lets herself properly hold her exes accountable. Most of all, it makes Gem look cruel or — worse — sloppy, both of which discourage others from working with her / being on her side. But even with all these downsides, Gem vs. the G’s succeeded in balancing her reputation. And it’s undeniably a highlight of WL.
Yet a villain needs her thematic demise :/ or “what is a victory but other people?”
The best Gem moments and stories are when she gets to have fun doing what she wants. The Boogey Army, lore with Pearl, even the moments of peace at her base where she talks to the camera about her process. But the most disappointing is when she’s forced physically and narratively into a box. Gem is constantly pushed into passivity because it’d be ‘unfair’ — also punished by the rules, unable to instigate until the gimmick (inconsistently) or other players send her to yellow/red. But in WL, Gem had organized things so that when she finally went Red, the most compelling and coherent option was murdering those who wronged her, finding long awaited closure with Pearl, and a satisfying final death that laid groundwork for next season. Unfortunately, by nature of the game/rules, they didn’t have the time or space to execute that throughout the season let alone the finale, resulting in her hard work falling flat.
And isn’t that frustrating? Her playstyle is dictated by the rules and, despite appearances, puts control of her actions/storyline in other players hands. SL worked because Gem could satisfyingly get herself on Yellow and interact with/terrorize other players within the rules. But WL left no time or room for either. She’s a villainous character — decided for her and embraced for maximum effect — and so it’s agonizing to take all the heat with none of the payoff. Gem always finds ways to work with it: building relationships, supporting Joel and Scar and others in getting kills, salvages a rushed makeup with Pearl, but it’s not her lore, her joy, her victory. It's dying to a mob, alone at her base, with only a sardonic outro as closure. And yet she keeps on trying anyway.
The stakes are too high for Gem. She wants to win so badly, in spite of the target on her back preventing her honest victory. So she weaves her own story into the villain narrative: an underdog, or at least a lesser enemy, that treats you kindly and deserves the win. Gem creates a rival in Pearl to showcase her innocence and a weakness so others let their guard down. All of this to promise that, when she goes Red, she can finally get some murder -- some control back. Yet Gem falls, unsatisfied and unfulfilled, before she can take her moment to have fun and thrive. Traffic Gem is constantly fighting for control, and we yearn and fear for when she finally realizes her hunt.
E1 Anon thank you for the ask !! I've been preparing a major Traffic Gem analysis for a while, and your prompt was the perfect jumping off point. There's still so much to talk about, but I think I've covered the major points here, at least until the next ask. So excited to see what develops next in Life Series that’ll add even more depth :) Thank you for reading!
Bonus Thoughts: Real Stakes cc!Gem, Meta Worldhopper Gem, and Taking Her At Face Value c!Gem
No Gem character is complete without intense interconnectivity between her worlds. Everything above is the Traffic Gem intent/action analysis, as seen and interpreted by other players. But here are some other more Gem centric ideas that I'd be remiss if I didn't discuss.
Traffic Gem is intense because the stakes are real.
Life Series is a microscope for mcyts. It's a Situation with just enough guidelines to build a cohesive story, a finite time limit incentivizing risks, a sandbox of character dynamics and with players they already have history with to utilize and alter. Part of the lightning-in-a-bottle value is seeing the mcyts at 100%: using their full arsenal of improv, relationships, production, and lore, on the most elite stage they have right now. One's content, brand, fandom, their very legacy, is indisputably shaped by Life Series. It’s an insane level of pressure even by mcyt standards. And Gem enters that as a newbie four seasons in, with all eyes on her.
If Wizard Gem is a collection of her themes into one masterpiece, Traffic Gem is the refined core of GeminiTay: who she is without any structure to fall back on, how she operates in the middle of chaos, and what she fights for when she can't have everything. It’s an ornate quilt versus a knight’s sword: you admire the comfort and handicraft of the quilt, but the sword challenges anyone to wield it — with varying levels of mastery. That's why Traffic!Gem is such a beautiful challenge compared to all her other characters: she is overpowering and raw, and her very presence challenges you to investigate deeper.
CC's often say their characters are exaggerations of themselves, but Gem's Traffic character is directly interwoven with her general CC struggle. Sorted into a box of "scary, competent, cottagecore," it's interesting that much of her battle is breaking out of her reputation. Gem loves playing around with perception, it's "how she gets away with things," and Life Series demonstrates both the strengths and weaknesses of her openly deceptive brand/playstyle. (I also consider False and Keralis this subtype, and can rant about this endlessly.) While she's soooo careful to not overextend, Gem is constantly beating back the "too good at PVP/minigames/etc." accusations, often to the point of handicapping herself. The more actions she takes, the closer she gets to winning, the louder the outcry to stop her -- even in the name of "fairness." And she subverts expectations by embracing that role for her own ends. I think that's beautiful.
Worldhopping! Yippie!
I could go on about the delicious c!Gem lore around an eldritch creature originally delighting in the death game, until struck with the horribly real betrayal woven into every single player, having a nihilistic and desperate attitude in every game afterwards. But this post by rainecreatesstuff already covered that beautifully. I think this is 100% intentional on Gem’s part: she keeps a lot of her machinations behind the curtain but loooves character building and consistency. Her "its fine" mantra fits perfectly in anyway. Similarly, much to appreciate from the Watchers specifically choosing her to join the games and cull the herd. Gem carrying on the eye-lost-to-portal plot is a fun nod to that interpretation. Imagine if she gets to boogeyman again in the future. Personally, I love a Worldhopper Gem who actively seeks to change events -- as opposed to simply enjoying the chaos and/or getting her feelings sent through a woodchipper by the Watchers -- but both interpretations are great.
An important aspect of Worldhopper Gem for me is how she actually cares way too much about every world. You’d think remembering tons of them and knowing it’s all roleplay would make her detached and here to have fun, and oh how she tries, but she can’t stop loving everyone too much and is always punished for it. Her fondness for Impulse, Scott, and Pearl, is thrown in her face in SL. Despite calling in dragons and fighting tooth and nail, Empires 1 gets raptured. Everything always ends. and Gem knows it from the start, and still she cries for every fallen world. Something to be said for loving her friends in every universe too!
Grumpy, impatient, and hurt Gem - what does she actually want to happen?
While I subscribe to a very tactical and intentional Gem — targeted actions influenced by her emotional priorities — the spiteful pure emotions Gem is worth discussing, especially regarding Pearl. Things like laughing as the barn burns, SACRIFICES, "did you even look me in the eye during our murder camel... happenings?" Gem is CONSTANTLY using whatever's being done to her and trying to manipulate it into something she can accept. She desperately wants to go on a murder spree with Pearl again, camel included, but doubled down on playing hard to get so now they're circling each other like (pathetic, wet) cats. It annoys her to no end that she keeps getting interrupted by murder attempts and base visitors, so she hides her irritation and pretends she's already given up on a safe, intact, quiet base, all the while grumpily snarking and retreating to the woods. Part of the fun on SL was being a yellow name and too scary to approach, getting to menace others just by standing next to them, so why is it taking so long to get there this time? Surely somebody should be able to kill her on their own. Gem is perpetually unsatisfied, and not even hiding it all that well, yet players seemingly refuse to see past her evil cottagecore facade. Much to be gained and appreciated in a grumpy, pretending to be detached Gem, who cares a lot, actually, and would appreciate if somebody would take the hint and let her murder already!
Thank you again for reading!! Stay tuned for the companion fic going up on my ao3 sooner or later :)
EDIT: now posted!! take a look!!
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radicalreliablerandomness · 2 years ago
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Podcast Rec Masterpost
I've been asked a couple times for podcast recommendations so I thought I'd post a compilation of some shows and a bit of info about them. Most shows I talk about are tagged below (I ran out of tags) so you can look through fan content as well if you're not one to care about spoilers. My asks are still open for personalized recs if you send me some others that you've listened to just because I love you, yes that's right! You. The person reading this right now!
Here goes!
Dungeons And Daddies *not a BDSM podcast
This show is a dnd actual play podcast. The first season is about four dads from our world lost in the Forgotten Realms in search of their lost sons. It’s a comedy but as with all comedies, you will cry by the end of it. It's super easy to get into with great chemistry between all the cast players and the dm, no prior knowledge of dnd is necessary. They do invoke slight horror sometimes so do keep an eye out for content warnings. Season 1 has 68.5 episodes along with bonus content and a mini campaign in between seasons 1 and 2. Season 2 is currently ongoing. Transcripts available.
The Bright Sessions
This is a science fiction podcast. The premise is a collection of clinical recordings of superpowered people's therapy sessions. The plot gets more interesting and convoluted as you get further in. Incredible voice acting filled with emotion. Does have some heavier discussions so be on the lookout for content warnings. It has 7 seasons (the last two are technically not part of the first five seasons' plot) and is completed. Transcripts available.
Hello From the Hallowoods
A post-apocalyptic fiction podcast. A beautifully written and preformed podcast that explores identity, religion, and other themes in vignettes throughout this haunted world narrated by an omniscient being. Some heavier topics are included so check the content warning before each episode. Seasons 1 and 2 are completed and season 3 will be done soon. Transcripts available.
The Magnus Archives
A horror fiction podcast. A well written chronological story told through anthology which seem to be tape recordings from a paranormal investigation institute. Incredible writing and actors that really bring it to life. This is horror so make sure to check the content warnings. The show is completed at 5 seasons. Transcripts available.
Neighbourly
Another horror fiction podcast! An interesting look into all the houses on Little Street and their peculiarities. Some more peculiar than others. The podcast is absolutely delightful with a horribly fun narrator. I would suggest checking the content warnings as some episodes are more intense than others. The show has 2 completed seasons. Transcripts available.
The Fall of the House of Sunshine
A musical mystery fiction podcast. The first season is about an investigation on the murder of a beloved host of a children's tooth-themed show. That's all I can say without spoilers. There are 3 incredible seasons along with short stories in between each season. Transcripts available until halfway through season 2.
Welcome to Nightvale
Possibly the most well known science fiction podcast, it really speaks for itself but I'll do my spiel anyways. Recorded as snippets of a daily radio broadcast, the show details the weird goings on in this strange desert town of Nightvale. Narrated almost completely by the radio host's smooth voice. It's ongoing and is currently sitting at 233 episodes. Transcripts available.
The Two Princes
A fictional queer romance podcast. It takes place in that special part of fiction that always starts with "once upon a time," it feels like a story book almost. The show is based around two boys meeting in the woods. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. It's just a cute feel good show. The podcast is complete at 3 seasons. Spotify auto-generated transcripts available.
What's the Frequency?
A self described psychedelic noir podcast. It's an absolute blast even if it is a bit hard to follow. Takes place in the 1940s in LA when all radio broadcasts were turned to static. You kind of just have to go with it until you get to the end. Completed at 12 episodes. Transcripts available.
Story Break
A writer's room podcast. The basic concept behind Story Break is 3 Hollywood writers in a room together take a prompt and try to make a story for it in an hour. There are many laughs in this podcast and just all around good humor and vibes. The show is complete at 169 episodes plus two full movie scripts. No transcript.
Who Killed Avril Lavigne
A science fiction podcast. It's about a time traveling pop punk loser and that's all you need to know. It's a podmusical so you'll be getting great nostalgic pop punk type songs along with crying from laughing so hard. Completed at 8 episodes. No transcript.
The Behemoth
A fiction podcast. Based around an unexplainable creature emerging from the ocean and how the world, and one girl in particular, deal with this phenomenon. It is pretty short with the longest episode being about 12 minutes. Completed at 20 episodes. No transcript.
Rude Tales of Magic
A dnd actual play podcast. It is mainly focused on the actual roleplay and story telling as opposed to the actual play. A handful of college students from Polaris University fuck the world up by completing a hazing ritual which in this case is a supposedly demon summoning. Obviously now they need to fix the world. Currently 64 episodes and ongoing. No transcript.
Midnight Burger
A very well written fiction podcast. It’s about a time/space traveling diner where the employees try to help solve a problem every place they land. Think Doctor Who adjacent vibes but with more drama. There is an overarching plot that comes together so look out for that. It has incredible characters that are really nicely fleshed out. You’ll somehow like and hate all of them as much as possible in the best way. Currently has 29 episodes of the main feed and a 9 episode mini-series. Transcript available.
Monstrous Agonies
A fiction podcast. It’s an radio advice segment on a station for “liminal Britain” aka the monstrous world to put it plainly. It’s really chill and comforting. There’s very good advice there and the intermittent ad reads will have you giggling to yourself. Episodes are on the shorter side, averaging about 15 minutes each. It does have some heavier discussions so make sure to check the content warnings. The show is completed at 111 episodes through 3 seasons. Transcripts available.
Desert Skies
A fiction podcast. The voice acting in this one is incredible, it’s the same person the whole time. The show as a whole is also just super well done. The premise is that when you die you show up on a highway and get to this astral pit stop. I’m not going to spoil it anymore you just have to experience it. There is an additional show, Desert Skies FM that's a buddy to this one. I recommend listening to both. Season 1 was completed at 12 episodes. Transcripts available.
Wooden Overcoats
A sitcom dramedy podcast. The show is about two siblings that run a funeral home on an island. It used to be the only one, it isn’t anymore. It has a wacky cast of characters and even wackier plot points. The dialogue can be a little hard to get used to at the beginning but once you get into it it flows easily. The show is completed at 4 seasons. Transcripts available.
Greater Boston
An audio drama podcast. It's set in Boston if you couldn't tell from the title and starts with the death of a man on a rollercoaster. It blends real life with some subtle (and at times not-so-subtle) fantasy elements. It's currently at 4 completed seasons. Transcript available.
Gay Future
A science fiction podcast. In a world where everyone is gay in the future we focus on this one straight kid. Following his journey to destroy the government who are making everyone gay. This is a satire by the way. 1 season completed at 6 episodes. No transcripts.
Death by Dying
A dark comedy podcast. The show follows an obituary writer while he does things that are totally under the jurisdiction of his job. A well written and preformed show. There are a lot of laughs and obviously some heartbreaks as well. Currently 1 completed season with season 2 sitting at 2 episodes for a bit now. Transcript available.
Not Another D&D Podcast
An actual play dnd podcast. This one's more mainstream than my other podcasts so I don't talk about it as much but that doesn't mean it's not incredible. The first campaign is about 3 adventurers off to save the world. Obviously. It can be a bit slow in the beginning but anything past the second half of the first season is incredible. There's humor, drama, love, and much more. The DM is also just incredible. 1 completed season, a couple mini campaigns, and the second season is currently at 43 episodes. No transcripts.
Forgive Me!
A fiction podcast. It starts based around vignettes of confessionals in this small town taken by a new father in the local church. An overarching plot is present but it's generally a feel good, sweet and simple show. They have 2 complete seasons with season 3 currently at 9 episodes. Transcripts available.
Real Housewives of D&D
An actual play dnd podcast. This show is based around the concept of a "Real Housewives..." type show but you don't need to know anything about those to listen to this. It's about 4 reality TV stars thrown into a magical fantasy world with no knowledge of how to get home. There's drama, excitement, danger, and lots more. The first season was just completed at 16 episodes. Transcripts available.
The Silt Verses
A horror fiction podcast. Two people who worship a banned god travel together up a river in a pilgrimage. There is incredible worldbuilding in this show along with acting and sound design. This is horror and a very good one at that so make sure you check content warnings. Season 1 and 2 are completed and season 3 is at 2 episodes so far. Transcripts available.
The Land Whale Murders
A comedy fiction podcast. It takes place in the year 1899 and is about a pair of friends? maybe not, that metaphorically explore the world they're living in. It is a commentary on the world we live in and the problems in it through a hilarious and wacky cast. There are currently 17 episodes between both seasons 1 and 2. Transcripts available.
Elaine's Cooking for the Soul
A post-apocalyptic cooking podcast. The show is about a dentist who makes her way through the fallout of an apocalypse while also making a cooking podcast. It does have depictions of violence, war, and dentistry so check out the content warnings. There are 2 completed seasons. No transcripts.
Fawx and Stallion
A mystery podcast. If you hate Sherlock Holmes you'll love this podcast. Also if you love Sherlock Holmes you'll love this podcast. It's based around the detectives who live across the street from Holmes at 224B Baker street. It's pretty goofy. Season 1 is completed. Transcripts available.
The Amelia Project
A fiction podcast. Follow the shenanigans of this death-faking organization as they take in new clients and hear their stories. It does develop an actual overarching plot later on but every second is fun. Seasons 1-4 have been completed and season 5 is in progress. Transcripts available.
A Voice From Darkness
A horror podcast. It's centered around a radio show hosted by Dr. Malcolm Ryder, Parapsychologist. He helps people who call into his show with supernatural problems, gives PSAs and warnings about strange happenings, and more. Season 1 is completed and season 2 is at 9 episodes. Transcripts available.
Station Arcadia
A dystopian fiction podcast. Formatted through a radio show, it tells the story of a world that's slowly dying. There are vignettes of different characters through different areas of the world. Season 1 is completed at 25 episodes. Transcripts available.
Margaret's Garden
A science fiction podcast. It has two plots running at the same time which keeps you on your toes but makes for an intriguing story line. In one plot line, two agents are sent to investigate the strange happenings of a weird little long abandoned town. Simultaneously, we hear from the past of that town as it catches up to the agents. Completed at 10 episodes. Transcripts available.
Camp Here & There
A horror comedy podcast. It's recorded as a set of daily announcements over a loudspeaker at a totally normal summer camp. The announcements are made by the camp nurse and he's also totally normal. I promise. Make sure to check in with the content warnings as some topics are a little mature or graphic. There are currently 34 episodes. Transcripts available.
Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye
A companion horror podcast. This is actually a bit meta because it is the result of a youtube series. This show is the one the podcast hosts in the series release, it's definitely worth both the watch and the listen though. It's got werewolves and drama. Completed at 10 episodes of video and 10 of the podcast. No transcripts.
I am in Eskew
A horror podcast. It's about a man who's trapped in a city where the buildings always change and the rain never stops. There's a weird monotonous creeping horror in this show that just draws you in. Check for content warnings definitely. Completed at 30 episodes. Transcripts available.
Traveling Light
A comfy cozy fiction podcast. It follows The Traveller on their exploration through space, visiting alien planets and collecting stories to send back to their community. For supporters of the show, it almost functions as a choose-your-own-adventure with choices to vote on and listener submissions. It's made by the same people as Monstrous Agonies so if you enjoyed that, you'd enjoy this and vice versa. There are currently 16 episodes. Transcripts available.
Not yet described but still recommended:
Eeler’s Choice
The Secret of St Kilda
The Endless Ocean
The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio
The Sword & The Stoner
World Gone Wrong: a fictional chat show about friendship at the end of the world
Travelling Light
Waterlogged
Brimstone Valley Mall
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thehawkinsarchives · 2 months ago
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byler mystery fic recs
fics that kept me on my toes! canon divergence or aus that don't fall under s5 speculation, but have a really good plot and elements of mystery.
The Crossover by nbfutureboy
“Didja hear about all that stuff with The Ringbearers? Apparently the frontman’s totally gone off the grid! Nobody knows where he is!” The frontman for The Ringbearers is Mike Wheeler.
Will Byers, a comic book author and illustrator at the very beginning of his career, initially turns down the invitation to Hawkins ‘HorrorCon’. But after hearing that a certain musician has gone missing - and despite the fact that Mike and Will haven’t spoken since their high school graduation - he can’t seem to shake the feeling something’s seriously wrong. Now complete!
28.5k words, 9/9 chapters Notes: One of my all-time favorite fics!! super interesting premise and features audio clips. intriguing relationship dynamic and absolutely gorgeous prose that makes you feel things. I lost count of how many times I've reread the ending and sometimes I think of a random line from this fic and start to get emotional :')
there's something wrong with michael by willelworld
“Hungry,” is all Mike manages to get out. Will can hear each ragged breath scuttle up and down his chest. He squints at Mike, the boy refusing to break eye contact, staring intently at Will. The emptiness from this morning is back. Will scoots up in bed and shimmies out of his blanket cocoon, placing his hands on the sides of Mike’s arms. “Are you feeling sick?” he questions gently. Something’s not right. Mike shakes his head and once again, opens his mouth with a brief pause before speaking. “I’m so hungry, Will.”
Mike gets a little too into the occult. After a ritual-gone-wrong, Will has to piece together a decades-old mystery to save his best friend's life.
84.4k words, 18/18 chapters Notes: AMAZING. Bro. I'm not going to say too much because I don't want to spoil but you have to read this. byler as boarding school roommates? will tries to solve a mystery with high stakes?? party friendship??? mutual pining???? this fic is everything.
Come Hell, High Water by naiesu
“It’s been months, Mike,” Lucas says, staring at Mike, hard. Mike can’t remember a time he didn’t look at him that way. “Will is a cold case. You need to accept that.” Mike is cold, and for one terrifying moment he feels the numbness wash over him. Everybody in the group is either looking at Mike, or at something that isn’t the two of them. Is that it then? Will Mike’s silenced protests be the last voice turning away from the boy that was Will Byers? Maybe he should.
26.7k words, 2/2 chapters Notes: college au after season 2! mike and will are put through the wringer :( but this is so worth it i promise. also features lots of flashbacks!! i love flashbacks that connect to and enhance the present narrative, especially in this mystery/missing persons setting. mike will do anything for will.
i've come home, i'm so cold by astrobi
“You’re not boning, though, right?” he says, suddenly. He doesn’t know why he feels such an urge to bring it up again, as if the thought of Mike boning is not something that is CODE RED #1 at the top of Will's list of things to absolutely never think about. But also. Look– “What? No, of course I’m not boning,” Mike splutters, turning a violent shade of scarlet, “how would I even hide that from you, I’m with you all the time–” And then he falls silent, so fast that Will gets tonal whiplash from how fast Mike just went from saying boning over and over again to just clamping his mouth shut and staring at the wall across from them.
Will's trying his hardest to make it through fall semester in one piece. Unfortunately for his degree, he's being haunted by maybe-feelings for his best friend (metaphorically), and also a maybe-ghost with rather abysmal fashion sense (literally).
53.5k words, 4/4 chapters
Notes: I LOVE this (as with any fic by astrobi). A little more low-stakes and lighthearted than the others on this list but an awesome college au with an interesting premise. will loves mike sm.
As the World Falls Down by olliecoddle
Mike saw him the second he entered the cafe, and the world stopped spinning. He was standing at the counter, a jean jacket over a faded band t-shirt and a polite smile plastered over his cheeks. Just the man he remembered. The man he had been looking for for the past five years. or, will doesn't remember anything, and something is very wrong
20.9k words, 8/15 chapters
Notes: unfinished but worth reading (as well as anything else from this author). i'm very picky with angst but will happily read anything from this author because they do it so so well. gut-wrenching, emotional writing.
Left His Heart There in the Sea by Concerned_terrapin
“Mr. Byers! I was hoping to catch you. This is Dr. Owens, from Hawkins National Laboratory.” Will pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, already feeling a headache beginning to form in his temples. "I’m kind of in the middle of a lecture here, can this wait?” “I’m afraid it can’t. We need your assistance urgently.” “And why do you need me?” Will was unable to suppress the bitterness in his tone, “You’ve got plenty of experts and doctors on your staff. I’m just a grad student, and I’m halfway across the country. What could I possibly do that no one else could?” Dr. Owens cleared his throat on the other end of the line, “You’re the only one who’s been there and made it out alive. Honestly, we could use your expertise. We’ve caught a specimen. A live one. And you’re definitely going to want to see this.”
Or, it's 1998 and the Upside Down is still alive and kicking, and something new just came out.
133.9k words, 22/22 chapters
Notes: mermaid (kind of??) au with a twist! i LOVE scientist!will and the interactions from the ensemble cast. author is also hella knowledgeable about marine biology so def read the notes after reach chapter. i usually don't read mermaid/other nonhuman aus but i finished this fic in one sitting because i couldn't put it down.
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wandering-tides · 1 year ago
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TNE Fandom where are you?
Sujin shippers where are you?
I have Fics to Rec
I don't really go out of my way to rec fics (and I dunno why I have never done this before on tumblr), but BY GOD, have these two fics taken a special place in my heart.
I ADORE everything about them.
They are both Suho x Hajin ships
But the ship aside, I am so incredibly grateful for the authors to have brought them to life and allowed us to read these absolute GEMS of a fic in this little, little fandom of The Novel's Extra.
Really, y'guys have no idea how giddy and excited I get at every update.
Now, the fic in question?
1. Flowers of Agápē by @descendedgaia
Kim Hajin is a failure. There's no two ways to look at that objective truth. It's a truth that resonates through how others look at and ridicule him. It's a truth that echoes infinitely inside his head, compounding and doubling down on his inadequacies. It's a truth, despite the unconditional love of two parents that soothe but cannot dispel those haunting doubts. Kim Suho is simply perfection. The desperate vessel and ideal of Hajin's "ifs" and wishes. Because Kim Suho, the protagonist of Hajin's novel, is everything Hajin wants to be for his parents and more. But, that same story falls apart at the seams the same way Hajin has lost faith in himself. Yet, as the common narrative dictates, everything begins anew with an innocuous email requesting to remake Hajin's novel, his desperation and desire incarnate.
*** Alternatively, the extremes of Korean culture break Kim Hajin into someone who feels much more acutely, and everything shifts to the left.
This is such a MASTERPIECE. Hajin's characterisation in here is just *chefs kiss*. For me, thats one of the biggest plus points in this fic. Hajin is so much more emotionally sensitive in here and feels far more acutely than in the orignal, as should have been.
This fic has been adressing almost all the points that made me frown at or dislike in the orignal novel and manhwa (and from what I can notice, almost every one too).
This fic is kinda a rewrite of the orignal novel, (tho the author follows the manhwa flow of the story) with added Suho interactions, and such good characterization of Hajin, I fell in love at first read LMAO.
So far, there aren't any major spoilers (unless you read the author end note, where they give their own tid-bits of the chap, which sometimes contain spoilers too, or go to the comment section which may sometimes give you spoilers to the novel lol) If you are caught up with the manhwa, or atleast the season 1 of manhwa, then so far there won't be any spoilers for you!
And I think i'll stop talking about it here cuz if I keep going, I think i'll end up giving in-fic spoilers Lmao
(Oh, btw, this updates every other thursday! So far, it's been consistent in its updates ^^)
So onto the next fic!
2. Mountain To No one by @thek1ngtalks (as k1ng0fn0b0dy on ao3)
There's a number on his smartwatch that leads to nowhere. Suho's gotten in the habit of texting it throughout his day. Today, it texted back.
_ Or, in a world missing Kim Hajin, everyone is worse off. Fixing this starts with (a lot of) text messages between a protagonist and his missing piece.
And Man.... where do I begin? I have SO MUCH to say about this fic but I think i'll end up spoiling the whole fic if I start lmao. It's just so good dammit. Just gonna say that this fic takes after the end of the novel, after the conclusion. Only couple few remembers Hajin in the orignl right? Well, in this fic, nobody does. But Suho is probably (???) Going to be the first to remember... I dunno tbh, the fic is only 2 chaps in (and yes, I really adore it already)
I love what the author did with Suhos character and how he is dealing with the aftermath of... everything. Same goes for Hajin, and I love where they seems to be taking this fic. How they characterizes these two main characters and everything.
Listen, I have a LOT to say but i'll just end up giving spoilers so really go read it for yourself. This is another MASTERPIECE of a fic and I am so grateful for its presence in this little TNE fandom TT
Really, thankyou for such amazing fics authors!!
And that's all from me!! Lol I was so excited while writing this XD (could you tell? Lol)
(I edited this post twice because of all the typos I ended up making in excitement LMAO)
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kerubimcrepin · 9 months ago
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LIVEBLOG: Wakfu Season 4, Episode 7
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Grandpa piss, being a part of the Remote Viewers Division doesn't prevent you from being a deadbeat. KILL him Eva.
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What were YOU doing at the devil's sacrement, King [insert name here] Sheran-Sharm!
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I love women who are tortured for an eternity and then die in some way that will not kill them in a way that matters #signaliscore posts
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Man haha I wonder if this might be saying something about Yugo (and Joris, but that goes without saying on this blog)
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I have seen people criticize this moment, but let me be the devil's advocate: after seeing years of fans saying that Flopin is the boring twin, or that Eva has no backstory, them getting a problem-causing grandpa is literally so good.
And I think I understand why Flopin did this, since he says himself that he actually feels like the boring twin... I understand why he felt like going with this man, to learn about this guild, and where he comes from.
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[starts hacking up blood] you know what other duo of demigods in this franchise had a twin who felt like they were living in the shadow of their sibling and his wonderful white fur—- [is shot by animal control]
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I loooove comparing all the characters in this show, because it's genuinely a good way to approach Krosmoz, since Tot likes exporing the same themes (immortality/family) over, and over, and over, and over. And what I can say rn is: man, having normal parents makes jealousy-based plots much more tame. Atcham went in a "I want to be great like you, so I need to end you, you don't care about me like I care about you anyway" direction instead of a "I want to be great like you, so I'm gonna leave and work on myself, and then we can stand side by side someday"
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I do think he is going to hurt his sister in some major way with this decision and in the end it will be a bitter, or bittersweet memory <3 I believe in the power of toxicity <3
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To elaborate on the thing I said about titles, Astra is the ruling queen (to be precise, she is the daughter of the king of Bonta who was mentioned in seasons 1-2 and OVAs, who seems to have passed away); while her wife is either queen-consort, or a princess-consort.
However, Wakfu kingdoms may have worse, weirder rules than real life about inheritance.
The reason I am not getting my panties in a twist about the same-sex aspect of this (besides me supporting toxic royal yuri + being against homophobia or whatever) is that this is a magical universe, idk. they could adopt or get magically pregnant. It's literally a non-issue for me. UNLIKE PEOPLE NOT UNDERSTANDING THE CONSORT SYSTEM AND—-
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Joris is present in all the kingdoms as Yugo's emotional support mediator/ambassador, except for Brakmar. I assume they simply do not let this fucking man into their palace, and rightfully so. He's literally a Bontarian narc. He'd use that chance to steal documents or some shit.
Btw I find it so funny how he keeps the same neutrally haunted look.
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If a Bonatrian political leader goes for a week without wanting to start genocide against a people who isn't into the main 12 gods, they start getting the shakes from withdrawal.
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I imagine living for hundreds of years and experiencing unimaginable suffering would make one pretty averse to being bossed around by some random guy who was born into wealth and has not known a second of grief in their life.
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I feel it is important to point out: Joris was the one who made sure the meeting with Astra happened. He also felt this was important enough to try and organize meetings with other kings and queens. This is a dangerous situation.
As always, absolutely nobody listened. Nobody ever listens.
As I was saying, I imagine living for hundreds of years and experiencing un—-
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I think the fact that Joris went with them has to say something about him. Yes, it is probably his sense of responsibility — he doesn't exactly want bad things to happen...
But also it explicitly puts a wedge between him and the Bontarian government. He values Yugo more.
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notmorbid · 1 month ago
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jessica jones: season 1 [2/2].
dialogue prompts from the first season of marvel's jessica jones.
what are you doing in here with all the lights off?
the lights are off to suggest no one is here. but you couldn't take a hint.
i was just leaving. you didn't kick me out. i left.
got a dollar?
do you know what shame feels like? real shame?
what you need are electrolytes. something solid in your stomach.
i don't want you in this. i can't protect you anymore.
i only have until 8 to tie up loose ends.
don't talk.
i got a bullshit meter the size of west texas.
glad the demons didn't get the better of you.
you're better than that. i can always tell.
the right people are gonna pay for what's been done.
i don't expect you to forgive me.
you know what happens when you burn a bridge? you gotta learn to swim, or fly.
you probably don't deserve this.
you don't get credit for doing the right thing for the wrong reasons.
you need a better tagline.
you can't freak out. promise.
i hate goodbyes. i've always just disappeared.
no one else will die because of me.
i'm taking myself out of the equation.
i'm still not the hero that you wanted me to be.
you are exactly the hero i wanted you to be.
your judgment is severely impaired.
don't you know it's rude to stare at people?
how do i know this is not like last time?
everyone's disappearing.
i'm tired of missing you.
so what exactly are you hoping is going to happen here?
not a monster. the word i'd use is 'bastard'.
you were a bastard to everyone else, but you were kind to me.
everyone wants to be the hero, right?
there's us and there's them, and that's okay.
stay out of it. stay safe.
do your actions ever haunt you?
you never talk to me about _____. why is that?
not a day goes by that i don't regret not warning you.
you can stay here or you can be a chickenshit.
i thought you'd left.
are you... you?
i'm not the best one for the job, but i'm the only one.
you could walk away and get on with your life.
there are worse things than death.
you want to build trust? start by admitting what you did.
i will kill you if you die in my car.
you are in no position to ask me to do anything.
i don't like what i see when you're around.
i didn't expect to hear from you again, but i can see why you called.
all that power, and you're too afraid to use it.
all you ever gave me was shame. and remorse. and pain.
what if you and i walked out of here right now?
no one gets under a person's skin like their parents.
the real world is not about happy endings. it's about taking what you have, and fighting like hell to keep it.
don't give me that look.
i crossed a big line to save you from yourself.
help those people. that's your superpower.
i wish i had a 'mother of the year' award so i could bludgeon you with it.
how do you avenge death by a thousand cuts?
your optimism is getting in the way.
it's not optimism, it's survival.
if you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem.
now that i understand your bullshit, it's all that i see when i look at you.
i feel your sadness, but where is your rage?
it won't happen again because you're leaving.
you can't grow a conscience. there's no pill for that.
after 24 hours without sleep, your short-term memory goes to hell.
assholes are a nuisance. i deal with them every day. you were violent and scary.
nothing says thank you like a rare steak and some cheesecake.
you're strong, but even you can break.
humanity sucks and they don't deserve saving.
still looking out for me, huh?
i appreciate the concern, but i'm not coming back.
well, what doesn't kill us makes us stranger.
you promised not to save me.
just had to be a hero, didn't you?
stop group-texting your location to a bunch of strangers.
it's just every man for himself, then, huh?
no one can help anyone.
it's not the kind of thing people think to ask.
you listen to my show?
i don't need your approval.
people still look up to you.
you can help yourself to... well, there's nothing.
i think you're someone who's trying to survive.
you keep hidden what you need to hide. i don't need to know what that is.
don't talk about me in the third person. i'm standing right in front of you.
they say that talking about a trauma, that it helps. that and jogging: two things that make me feel like crap.
i'll say it every day for as long as you need to hear it.
it's not home for me anymore.
when this is over, i hope you finally allow yourself some happiness.
if there's a severed body part of any kind in that box, i'm going to be very upset.
i hope they have free express shipping in heaven.
breaking and entering. my specialty.
guilt makes people do stupid shit.
i want everything to be my fault, good or bad. means i have some control.
i usually like a little more romancing.
you're the first person i ever pictured a future with.
you make the rest of us look like selfish pricks.
it's like you have this iron will. hold onto it for me, will you?
doing something good helps with the self-loathing. trust me.
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