#and like does the tempering always work? no; obviously; for multiple reasons
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rabbitsrants · 2 years ago
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SHINICHI KUDO IS TOO MUCH
guys, i'm currently working on the "reasons why shinran is one of the most brilliantly written romances of all time" masterlist and i came across this part of the manga:
chapter 44
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AND I AM LAUGHING MY ASS OFF
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shinichi is absolutely RUTHLESS in this chapter. correct me if i'm wrong, but this has to be his angriest moment throughout the entire series? i don't remember him acting this way in any other chapter 😂 like... shinichi is the type of guy who saves murderers from suicide, it's a well known fact that he values human life more than anything, HE'S A DEEPLY IDEALISTIC PERSON, YALL, THAT'S THE MAIN TRAIT THAT DEFINES HIM AS A PERSON and he straight up tells this dude (whos about to slit his own throat btw) TO GO AHEAD AND KILL HIMSELF
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this is the most unhinged i've ever seen him 😂
now, let me be serious for a second. obviously, shinichi strongly suspected that the culprit wouldnt go through with it - he spent the entire case trying to cover up his murder after all, that's not something a suicidal person does. still though. the fact that shinichi was willing to risk it says so much about his love for ran. cause that's what his rant is about. the culprit tried to kill ran on multiple occasions and almost succeeded a couple of times. if there's one thing that shinichi can not handle, it's ran being in danger. he'll lose his composure every single time and he will lash out, even at innocent people who are just trying to help:
chapter 640
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this man is so devoted to ran, it hurts.
that's why im so shocked everytime the fandom implies that ran is an irrelevant character who doesnt contribute anything to the story. if (for whatever reason) ran stopped being in the picture, the story would end right then and there.
people seem to forget that shinichi has prioritized ran over cases on numerous occasions (that aspect of their relationship deserves its own post tbh, i'll hopefully get to it in the future), he completely loses his mind everytime there's even the slightest risk that she might get hurt and this case right here? chapter 44? that's the wildest shit shinichi has ever said 😂 the part about justice was spot on and very in character for him, but the rest? it was brutal... and very unlike him. which is shocking, considering that ran was completely unharmed. do me a favor and let that sink in: the end of chapter 44 was merely his reaction to the thought of losing ran - he completely lost his shit. now, if ran actually stopped being in his life? shinichi wouldn't just lose his temper, he'd lose himself.
for the record, this isnt me implying that he would go rogue or whatever. the reason why shinichi is so angry in chapter 44 is because ran is okay and tangible, so he still has something to lose. but if she was gone? if she stopped being his life? he wouldn't be angry, he'd be inconsolable. if the level of anger displayed in chapter 44 and 640 is what we get when shinichi simply worries about ran's safety, just imagine the level of heartbreak that we would witness if he genuinely lost her.
shinichi loves and needs ran so much, it's unfathomable for most people, including me. everytime i think i cracked the case and finally figured out how much shinichi loves ran, he proves me wrong. and while i think that most cold cases are a tragedy, i think im coming to terms with leaving this one unresolved. after all, love is the most mysterious force in the universe. and always will be.
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visit the shinran library for more
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grandwretch · 4 months ago
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for some reason I haven't been able to think about anything but this werewolf au I came up with years and years ago so here are some more headcanons I have in that universe
JD and Elliot do date, and JD is obsessive over the fact that he's not her soulmate. He basically considers it a sign that their relationship is on a timer. Elliot doesn't see it that way, because her parents aren't soulmates and they're perfect(ly awful) for each other.
JD is often at odds with Turk about this because Turk just does not care that he's not Carla's soulmate and neither does Carla.
Elliot and Perry are oddly also foils, because Perry doesn't believe in soulmates for the opposite reason-- his parents were soulmates and they treated each other like shit.
Before JD, Cox's temper was actually a lot calmer than it is on the show. Carla clocks JD as his soulmate because of how mad he gets about JD and everyone involved with him.
Perry is specifically mad that his soulmate is so much younger than him and showed up after he already had a disastrous marriage with Jordan, but also that it's someone he would never go for in a million years but can't help but loving.
One of the reasons he's always snapping at Turk and Elliot is because they're allowed to be close to JD in a way a part of him desperately wants to be.
Jordan didn't know that JD was Perry's soulmate when she slept with him, but it didn't take her long to figure it out and she's thrilled to hold it over Perry's head afterward.
Perry is angry at both of them, and takes both amounts of anger out on JD before Carla tells him to knock it the fuck off. That's when the ignoring begins.
in My Dirty Secret, Jordan breaks things off with Perry for good when she finds out that Perry asked JD for advice on their relationship-- she was willing to try to make things work, but not if he's going to bring the soulmate he's not brave enough to be with into their relationship all the time.
JD finds out that Perry is his soulmate at Turk and Carla's wedding. At first Carla is upset because she thinks they got together on her wedding day, but when it turns out they're just yelling at each other about it, she's fine.
JD gets mad at Perry for keeping it a secret and then even madder when Perry reveals that he has no plans in having a relationship with JD.
JD ends up forgiving him when JD's dad dies, because Perry is so supportive to him through it.
The whole Elliot trying to stop JD from dating Molly thing is replaced by big complicated feelings when JD is actively trying to convince Perry to give him a shot. She dates his brother as "revenge" and is upset when JD is just thrilled he can be loud about being in love with Perry now.
Perry points out multiple times that this kind of drama is why he didn't want to date someone younger than him.
They do end up getting together at the end of season 4, sharing their first kiss in JD's new place.
Obviously this makes My Lunch and My Fallen Idol even harder, because it's one thing to be disappointed in your mentor and another entirely to be disappointed in your partner.
Also Perry spirals a little more thinking that JD is going to leave him because he fucked up, and he and Jordan were constantly holding mistakes over each other's heads.
When Paige shows up, JD is secretly thrilled to finally meet Perry's family. However, Perry doesn't take it well and ends up shifting at the hospital, which leads to a lot of questioning from the board about whether or not his mental state is actually more stable.
JD calls Paige his sister for the rest of forever, because he adores her and her bright personality. They spend way too much time together and Perry regrets ever forgiving either of them every single day. With love in his heart, obviously.
Elliot is the one who ends up leaving Keith for Kim, which saves us all from the lying about the miscarriage thing.
JD and Perry make sure their relationsjip is solid before moving in together, not wanting Jack to get confused. Its not until Elliot "gently" pushes JD into talking to Perry about it that JD moves in.
Jordan and Perry's coparenting struggles are made worse by the fact that Jordan isn't entirely comfortable with JD being one of Jack's parental figures.
In My Princess, Elliot and JD are both princesses ok.
SPEAKING OF PRINCESSES... I'm sad since baby JD and Sammy won't be born so I'm deciding that Perry and JD decide to adopt a pair of twins that the SH team fell in love with. I don't care how accurate it is. It's canon now.
One of them was sick and they were in the hospital and they got attached okay!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Leave me alone I fucking love kid fic let me have this!!!!!!!!!
Being Chief of Medicine means that Perry is the legal Alpha of Sacred Heart, and he's surprised to find that nothing much changes in how his bonds with the other werewolves work.
While dating the Chief of Medicine offers JD more challenges at work, Perry is much more secure in knowing that JD will stop him from becoming Kelso.
the Turk and JD are married comedy show still happens and Perry is now in a place where he thinks it's fucking hilarious
obviously JD doesn't leave Sacred Heart but he does consider leaving to try a job not under Perry's wing-- and Perry of course panics and blows his six months of planning and anxiety attacks by proposing at 3 in the morning in the middle of a shift about it
JD does actually leave but only temporarily to teach other human doctors and nurses how to treat werewolf patients and vice versa
and of course that's the end because sadly there's only eight seasons of scrubs oh no if only they had made a ninth season If Only
edit: I FORGOT TO ADD ONE OF MY FAVORITES
turk being a dad to baby werewolves and being overwhelmed but such a good dad and learning so much more about this new culture he's a part of
Carla getting to process her feelings about the years of discrimination she's felt being a half werewolf through her fears for her kids
Turk and Carla feeling stronger in their relationship than ever before because they're both learning new things to prepare their kids for a life in between
Turk also goes to help JD teach new doctors in an effort to blend the boundaries between human and werewolf society
Turk eventually campaigns and works with Ted's replacement to make Sacred Heart the first interspecies hospital-- he becomes the face of the hospital, not out of tokenism like when he was an intern, but because of his compassion, talent, and dedication
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animeyanderelover · 2 years ago
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OMG hiii ! How are you enjoying in your holidays? I hope you're doing well! As for me, this is my first time being so early, so I would like to request the Heiwajima brothers sharing a darling. Since they're close, I think it'll work out well? (I'm also looking forward to how yandere Kasuka would be)
I find it funny and depressing at the same time how I received this request in the summer holidays 2022 and finally write it in the spring holidays 2023.
Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, protective behavior, stalking, some violence
Sharing a darling
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🚬▪️Both of them have grown somewhat distant after Izaya caused Shizuo to lose his job despite him promising Kasuka that he would keep working. Then there's also quite obviously Kasuka's position in the showbiz and his often very busy schedule yet both of them retain a good relationship with each other where both of them care for each other. Both of them are two polar opposites too with Shizuo possessing a incredibly short temper and Kasuka making up for it by being the level-headed and almost apathetic counterpart. The younger brother feels some sort of responsibility when it comes to his brother. It can be left open how their darling got mixed in between all of that. They could be someone both have known since childhood, could be a citizen in Ikebukuro or even be someone also working in the showbiz. The easiest way for both of them to fall for someone though would probably be with someone they've known since childhood, before both of them grew distant and Kasuka became famous which would make them the connection that kept them from growing so distant from each other back then.
🚬▪️Kasuka shows his emotions rarely so his obsession flies under the radar but Shizuo is a different story. He's extremely protective and low-key possessive since he's used to being lonely because everyone fears him for his violent outbursts. He might try to avoid you at first since he's terrified of hurting you too, even if inadvertently but deep down he longs for you and your love. I mean, he certainly tries to hide his attraction but his raging jealousy and outbursts as soon as someone makes you cry make his feelings and intentions clear. You caught him multiple times trailing behind you since stealth isn't his strength, especially not if he catches someone flirting with you or making you uncomfortable. His heart is transparent, especially for his younger brother who has known him the longest. Kasuka knows what his brother feels and also knows that his brother is quite obsessed with you. Most people assume that Shizuo likes you anyways but differently from most, Kasuka notices that this goes deeper and is the reason why Shizuo acts even more irritated than normally. His older brother is confused and afraid.
🚬▪️Shizuo's even worse temper because of his inability to regulate his overpouring emotions thanks to you has to stop though. His brother only hurts himself and you too by constantly trying to push you away because of his fear to hurt you, which he already does by rejecting you. So the younger brother takes it upon himself to have this conversation with his brother at one point since things just can't continue like this. He's very straightforward with Shizuo too, tells him that he hurts your feelings by ignoring and avoiding you although he does understand why his older brother is behaving that way. Kasuka knows already that both of them harbor the same sort of feelings for you, Shizuo doesn't know until Kasuka admits his own feelings which shocks him. There's a sense of shame since he's always so easy to read whilst Kasuka expresses rarely openly his emotions and for that is harder to understand. There's a short awkward tension between those two which mainly comes from Shizuo.
🚬▪️Kasuka after all has known since a while, had time to accept that fact whilst everything is new to Shizuo. Obviously he doesn't hate his brother and Kasuka has most likely already suggested the option of sharing. Largely because he cares for Shizuo but also because he can imagine very well what would happen if Shizuo wouldn't be able to see you and love you, tying into Kasuka's feeling that he has to take responsibility for his older brother's temper and outbursts which would surely be even worse due to his obsession. From Shizuo's point of view, Kasuka's option makes the most sense since he also knows that your absence is poison for his temper. It just feels a little bit weird at first, thinking about having a polyamorous relationship since he never considered something like that before. Kasuka most likely imagines that Shizuo needs a bit of time to get used to that thought and gives him that time. In the end both agree to share since they're close to each other.
🚬▪️Shizuo has no idea to even bring that idea up to you though and so Kasuka takes charge of most of the talking when they bring it up to you, additionally forces his brother to apologize for hurting your feelings by avoiding you. If you request time to consider their suggestion, they both will give you time. Shizuo is a bit impatient and itchy though, worried what will happen if you reject that idea and will also start to think weirdly about both of them for bringing such an idea even up. Kasuka just tells him to wait for now. They will start worrying about that if it really happens. You relieve both of them by eventually agreeing though. The planning and troubles are far from over though as there arises a small discussion with whom you should stay. Kasuka has his schedules, his shootings and all his meetings to attend to due to his position as a star which means that him and Shizuo can't have you by their side at the same time. Staying with Shizuo is in the end the better decision as Kasuka is worried for you.
🚬▪️He has paparazzi and obsessive fans so he doesn't know how safe your personal space and identity would be if you were to come with him. Both of the brothers also agree that they'd like to keep the polyamourous relationship a secret although Kasuka is realistic enough to know that at one point someone will eventually find out. So he leaves you in Shizuo's hands, knows that he's capable of protecting you. It's maybe not what he really desires but it's the safer option, especially if he knows that you'd be uncomfortable to be exposed to flashing lights and hate mails from upset admirers of his. So you end up staying with Shizuo who is mildly nervous of the aspect of loving and providing for you. He has a job as a bodyguard for a debt collectors agency but doesn't earn the most money. At least not enough money to treat and spoil you like he might want to do. Kasuka helps him by sending him money since he also wants to do something for their darling, even if he's busy with his shootings.
🚬▪️The poor man is so awkward at the beginning of the relationship though as the tenderness and affection you give him almost overwhelms him. He's, very frankly spoken, just not used to the affection of someone else and doesn't seem to know what he's supposed to do. The only thing he really knows to do well is using his strength to beat others up. So you might have a bit of a rough start with him as he still tends to push you away here and there and might say something that ends up hurting your feelings a bit. He feels so guilty every time he notices how he hurts your feelings though which only continues to smash down his self-esteem. You endure it though, something that genuinely touches him and only hits him with more guilt whenever you give him space and time. Shizuo feels the desperate need to repay you for your kindness and affection somehow, something that doesn't only include protecting you by essentially scaring everyone away with his strength.
🚬▪️Physical affection is something he secretly dreads due to his strength. He's just so scared that he might hurt you and bruise you which is why he is exceptionally gentle whenever he hugs you or holds your hands, something that continues to fluster him greatly every time it happens. He secretly loves it though when his s/o is affectionate with him. He's like a dry sponge soaking everything up that his s/o does for him. Compliments, hugs, kisses, presents, all things he never received much during childhood and adulthood. He's still greatly insecure about himself though and whenever he loses his temper or accidentally says or does something that hurts you, he succumbs to insecurities. He envies Kasuka a lot for his controlled demeanor, sometimes even fears that you'll end up turning completely to Kasuka. He'd completely understand why you'd do that but that doesn't make the thought hurt any less.
🚬▪️You see how genuinely hard Shizuo is trying though, even with his explosive temper and jealousy. He even attempts to become a better cook to prepare meals for you when he invites you over, does his best to buy you little things in hopes of making you happy. With Kasuka on the other hand you often chat and he calls you a few times a week to hear how you're doing and how Shizuo is doing. At times you and Shizuo worry that he feels secretly jealous and left out since he's such a busy man but if he is, he never lets anyone notice it. He just provides Shizuo and you with some of the money he's earned and you tend to get presents sent to you by him. Some of them are too expensive for your taste and if you tell him that you'd feel too guilty receiving presents in a certain price range, Kasuka is considerate enough gift you what you like within an acceptable price to pay. At times he tends to feel a bit annoyed and guilty for having so little time to spend with his s/o so presents tend to be a way of apologizing for him.
🚬▪️When Kasuka has free time on his hands and knows about it beforehand, he plans with Shizuo and you to meet and to be sneaky enough to not let any of his fans and paparazzi find him. In almost all of the cases, Shizuo leaves you alone with him unless Kasuka specifically asks him to tag along. You spend so much time with him after all, his younger brother deserves some time with you alone since he has so little with you. That seems to be a silent agreement between the two brothers and Kasuka appreciates it since the lack of time he can spend with you tends to get to him, he just hides it better. You two have to stay hidden though to minimize the risk of being caught together which tends to limit the things you can do together. Whilst that might upset you a bit, Kasuka is just grateful to be able to have you to himself for a while at all. He has a wide range of hobbies though and if you tell him that you'd like to try one of them out with him, he'll try to arrange things so that you two can do it.
🚬▪️Considering that a few of his hobbies include flower arrangement and painting, you tend to get a lot of bouquets and paintings he did himself to make it more personal. The difference between the two brothers is almost painfully obvious. You can always read Shizuo and always have to try to tame his temper, Kasuka on the other hand is silent and you can't decipher him as easily as you can his older brother. Kasuka doesn't speak too much, mainly because he just likes listening to you talking and watching you. He's very straightforward though so if he notices that something is on your mind, he'll ask you about it rather quickly. He's more collected, a better observer which can make him more risky in the way that he's better to read your facial expression and your body language. Due to the lack of emotions he expresses, it makes him in return harder to read which could make for a rather effective manipulater if he'd ever do so. Luckily both brothers lie seldom to you.
🚬▪️Shizuo is the one mainly protecting you and keeping you safe with his strength which is already enough to make even the less sane person think thrice about hurting you. If Kasuka gets to know about a problem that Shizuo can't solve with sheer imtimidation and his violent temper alone, he will do something too though. He might not be as physically strong as his older brother but he has other ways, mainly a lot of connections and the ability to spread rumors. Social platforms can be a scary thing after all. They truly are like night and day if both of them are able to spend together time with you. Kasuka is comfortable with your affection and initiates it himself, Shizuo still tends to still get shy and embarrassed about it which results in slight envy but it's nothing serious. Kasuka could be considered as the brain of the relationship since he, due to his composure, isn't swayed as easily by his emotions. He doesn't claim the control in the relationship though, Shizuo often just thinks of him as more suited to make plans although if he has an objection, Kasuka listens to him.
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gorogues · 3 years ago
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Spoilers for this week’s episode of Stargirl!
Things are moving forward, the JSA is sort of breaking apart due to secrets, and Sylvester has good advice for once. Beth copies the info from Gambler's laptop and Yolanda goes to put it back, only to meet up with Cindy while burgling her home. They fight, Rick joins in, and Courtney breaks it up, but now everyone knows Cindy took the laptop and is becoming reptilian. Cindy denies killing the Gambler, and says she just wanted to find any info on it about what's happening to her and where her father's other labs are. Clearly she should have been honest a while ago, but she lashes back with Courtney's secret about helping Cameron with his powers. Now everyone's upset with Courtney about 'training a new Icicle' (as they see it), and Courtney's put Sylvester in charge of the JSA.
Sylvester then offers Courtney some good advice and supports her decision to help Cameron, which is…oddly reasonable of him. He might have an ulterior motive, but at least he's not being a jerk for once. It's also nice to get a little bit of info about his sister Merry's relationship with Brainwave; I never have seen a particularly good explanation for it in the comics (she's still alive there). Hank is my favourite member of Infinity Inc so I've always been grumpy about him being an ass and getting killed off so early in the show, but at least someone remembered him.
Beth discovers that they're all being watched through multiple video feeds, and tells Courtney and Pat in a way that hopefully doesn't alert the guy watching them. It appears to be Mr Bones, not Kritter, but that does confirm it's Helix. Bones likes doing skull puzzles and has a bit of a breathing problem -- maybe from all his infamous cigarettes, but I don't know if smoking is really allowed on CW shows in light of all those cringe anti-smoking ads we saw last season. Maybe it's okay if he's a villain and they emphasize how unhealthy it is? Regardless, it's probably Bones and a few people know about the secret video feeds now.
Pat and Barbara go to talk to Cameron's grandparents about their kids' relationship, because they're aware something's sketchy about the old folks. Sofus (Grandpa) seems more sympathetic and didn't poison their lutefisk, while Lily (Grandma) is more hardassed and all about poisoning. So maybe Sofus will be something of an ally or at least less of an aggressor, although maybe he won't be when the situation gets more intense.
And Rick finds that removing the limiter does indeed work, and he's potentially got super-strength 24/7. As I said last week, this will undoubtedly blow up in his face somehow, and the question is how it will happen and how long it'll take. The hourglass is clearly different from the comics' Miraclo pills, but Miraclo had a lot of effects on Rex's and Rick's mental states, particularly when abused. I don't think this'll do any favours for Rick's temper or mood, and of course he can do a lot of damage with that kind of strength.
So it's good to see progression on the video feed/Helix plot, though sad that everyone's tearing each other apart over secrets. And obviously the pressure is building regarding Cameron, his powers, and his relationship with Courtney. It's tough to say who will ally with who when things go from bad to worse, but clearly people will have to choose sides.
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solomonish · 4 years ago
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My Personal Simeon Fall AU Headcanons
These are within the same realm of this fic - and it is intended as a Simeon x MC universe! These HCs will focus on his time in the Devildom rather than why he fell, but maybe that information will come eventually...
*some things regarding this war I keep mentioning may not be entirely clear - still working on that! However, I’ll try not to put out too much contradicting information, hehe!
WARNING: some angst, brief mention/implication of torture. forcibly removed memories.
First Days
He came to the devildom in a blaze, much like the brothers did, hurtling down like a shooting star. At the core, encasing him as his wings charred to soot, was a brilliant light blue, rimmed by a dazzling white and platinum gold. At his impact site, parts of the dirt and stone have crystallized in the same colors. The site is still roped off for investigation.
He fell, acting as a white flag for both sides to signal the end of a war very few people knew was raging. The impact sent the last of his holy energy into the surrounding area, and demons near the sight complained of itching and general irritation for weeks after.
The only people at the site who looked into his eyes when he struggled to get up were you, Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Solomon. A few curious Devildom citizens were scattered about, too, but Diavolo's authoritative vibe kept them too far to see anything.
Diavolo and Barbtos kept him in one room in the castle as he adjusted to the sudden demonic energy inside him and learned to contain his wrath. You were allowed to see him, but only if supervised by Barbatos or Diavolo in case Simeon tried to hurt you.
He was despondent most of the time, sitting curled up and stiff in the middle of the bed that looked untouched. He spent days without sleep, simmering with rage. You never found out if he bottled it up or if he destroyed the room but Barbatos put it back together before you appeared.
(You might not ever learn that some of the methods Diavolo and Barbatos used to bring his memories back were...extreme. They had no intentions of torture or pain, but they desperately wanted to get to them if they could. That’s where his anger was used up - as he screamed out in agony, either from the extraction method or the feeling of having lost everything yet not quite grasping what that meant.)
Satan suggested books and sent some of his personal collection that helped him gather himself when he was created. Diavolo and Barbatos tried to jog his memories, both for personal reasons and to get information on the Celestial realm, but that was exactly why they were gone. His memories had been magically extracted, but haste made him forget most everything instead of just sensitive information regarding the realm.
Eventually, he was free to roam the garden and some hallways, and when Diavolo and Barbatos concluded that regaining his memories was impossible, he was housed.
Power & Standing
He was a powerful angel, so he is a powerful demon, yet not quite as powerful as the brothers.
Simeon, for the majority of the war, was fighting on the side of the Celestial Realm, so he's generally disliked among the citizens of the Devildom. Our cast are all weary around him for multiple reasons - aside from Satan, Beel, Solomon, and MC (obviously).
He isn't an official member of any student council or governing body, nor does he really have a final say in anything, but he does frequently act as an advisor of sorts. He tends to work with Barbatos on that front, discussing in the background anything that might need discussed or worked on separate from the brothers.
Simeon is a wrath demon, though the change in his temper is hardly noticeable at first. He resembles Lucifer in how strict he is, mostly when he is in charge of something, and his anger that releases when he isn't listened to mimics Satan's.
If they are near each other and angry about the same thing, Satan and Simeon can actually feed off of the other's anger and boost their power. Satan does NOT need the boost, but you bet he brings chaos and destruction tenfold is he has it. For Simeon, though, it practically puts him on par with some of the brothers, if only for a short while.
Socially, he is generally ignored, and nobody runs away from him if he initiates conversation - but he doesn't. Simeon turns into a bit of a loner, a large chunk of his personality and memories gone and replaced with anger.
He's still learning how to deal with it.
His demon form consists of black deer-like antlers (not small but just small enough to avoid being entirely cumbersome) and long wings with bone-tipped feathers. His wings are almost always folded against his back and hanging low, the dangling feathers reminiscent of his angelic cloak with the golden charms. He does have a little black deer tail but doesn't like it being commented on.
(Don't worry about aerodynamics or which animal he represents, it's a magical universe its fine uwu)
General Information
He lives in modest home on the outskirts of the Devildom, somewhat close to the castle in case there's some type of emergency that needs to be taken care of but not so close he gets a super nice house and causes some social uproar. He has a small yard and a garden he tends to meticulously.
I imagine the house as a sort of townhouse (although not a for real townhouse because its it's own thing), two stories tall. The downstairs has a small living room, kitchen and bathroom while the entire upstairs is an open bedroom/office type deal. It gives off a gothic cottage type of vibe. No idea if this is helpful so maybe one day I'll build it in the sims.
He keeps his house tidy but has many bookshelves filled with equal parts books and knickknacks.
As stated before, he is a wrath demon, and because of his memories being almost entirely erased, he had a similar fall and adjustment period as Satan. Also, as a writer, he has an intrinsic appreciation for books. He and Satan get along the most out of all the brothers - the fact that Lucifer has mixed (mostly negative)(?) feelings about Simeon makes the deal sweeter for Satan.
Beel doesn’t dislike him, and while he doesn’t trust Simeon yet he’s willing to see if Simeon is on their side now considering none of his family got hurt. Solomon still trusts him though, but he does get a little downtrodden when he has memories that Simeon doesn’t.
When angry, Simeon smiles sweetly but his voice turns dead cold. Whereas Satan goes feral and seeks destruction like a bomb, Simeon feels more like a sniper rifle that needs careful aim and precision with just as devastating consequences. Shouting and immediate carnage are rare and only come after a severe transgression.
Otherwise, Simeon allows himself to be more playful than before. He doesn’t exactly have snide remarks, but he is an expert at stating the truth in a way that feels like a blade cutting through your confidence.
In true "flaunt what ya got without really making it seem purposeful" Simeon fashion, he wears button-down shirts that are almost entirely unbuttoned. They are always patterned and funky, and he wears them tucked into black pants. I'm thinking something like this (he also has patterns that are more "groovy" than vacation)
Will also occasionally sport a deep v like this
He still acts just as naive and confused if you bring up how exposed he is to him, so its best just to suffer in silence.
When making a pact with MC, he makes sure the mark covers a scar he left and doesn't remember from the war on your shoulder. It feels like a longer-lasting apology.
He still calls you "little lamb," but instead of smiling gently at you like a loving shepherd, his smiles look like a predator baring his fangs at his prey. In a sweet way. In a hot way.
What Does He Remember?
At first, nothing. Demonic instinct claws at him and he lashes out at everyone and everything.
He is still a nightmare with technology. Nobody knows if this is residual from how he was before, a result of his memories being taken, or just a trick.
Occasionally, he’ll remember an inside joke, but only halfway. You’ll say something you don’t realize is from before, and he’ll laugh, almost like an impulse. But then his laugh trails off and he gets contemplative, wondering what, exactly, was so funny about it.
The brightness of the Celestial Realm is hard to forget. The rainbow framing the palace and vast fields appear in dreams. He never remembers anything ‘important,’ but it’s enough to remind him that he was discarded.
The Celestial War hasn’t gone away, not in its entirety. There are certain things like battle strategies that he can’t for the life of him conjure up in his mind, but he remembers the bulk of it. It helps him realize why some of the brothers were/are so aloof towards him - nothing was ever as simple as he thought it once to be. Fighting a losing battle isn’t a choice you make when its for love - its simply the only path available.
(Apologies are so, so hard to dish out when you can’t remember most of your transgressions, though.)
He remembers Luke and will worry himself to inconsolable tears at night just thinking about him. Those thrown away don’t get the privilege of knowing what happens to their friends - and even if he did, Simeon wouldn't be so stupid as to put a target on Luke's back by proving that he was still important to him.
But he can only remember Luke's terrified, teary eyes when he realized Simeon was going to turn on the Celestial Realm in the middle of a war, and how he pleaded with Simeon not to. Luke asked what he would do all by himself, and Simeon hopes to his Father for only one thing - that he figured it out.
This is his sore spot. Nobody is allowed to be privy to these thoughts, not even you. But some days he comes to RAD looking worse for wear and you KNOW something is bothering him. He'll just never tell you what.
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thenightlymartini · 2 years ago
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I had an idea!
I know New Year resolutions aren't a thing everywhere, but because the New Year for a lot of places just started I thought it might be cool.
What is one resolution that each of them keep, and one that they drop?
You know, I honestly can't remember if I've done something like this before. I'm also not the most adept at searching Tumblr archives, much less lots of behind the scene stuff, so if there was a way for me to figure that out I just don't know about it.
This also gets a little tricky since I know Chinese New Year is more prominent in both Koreas, and I definitely know very little about it other than small bits and pieces I've seen on blogs, fanfics, and Tik Tok. Basically next to no knowledge. As such, this is mostly going to focus on New Year customs I'm familiar with, because I don't feel comfortable talking about Chinese New Year due to my lack of knowledge.
Also this is going to be long, so be prepared.
CW: light mentions of the Korean War and the separation, alcoholism, issues with weight loss, a swear word or two that is censored
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Kimchiburger: America introduced this concept to SK fairly early on after they began to build a friendship, and SK found it kind of amusing but also kind of a cool idea. Amusing mostly because, since he's lived so long, he knows it's mostly just going to be the same thing every year and most of these resolutions don't actually get followed through with, but cool as in it kind of is like setting up goals for oneself and sort of makes people try to better themselves.
America obviously makes one for getting into better shape or lose weight, which usually just doesn't keep for long because his diet is very weird and his expectations are extremely too high or too low. Like he under or overestimates how much work it will take or how much he will actually lose, much less what is actually healthy for his body type. SK has to remind him that at least he tried and it will take time, though he will love him even if he does gain weight.
As far as the one he keeps, America made one about trying to be less ignorant of other's customs. He cringes at every memory where he unknowingly and/or accidentally did something rude towards others purely surrounding customs, as well as constantly wonder if being belligerent and his ignorance caused unneeded tension between him and others when they could have potentially become friends. Thus, he makes it his goal to learn as much about other cultures as he can, even those within his own country, no matter if they are minorities or majorities. SK helps him with this a lot when it comes to Korean culture and pointing out the differences between cultures, such as eating etiquettes between Japan, South Korea, and China. SK would also invite the Philippines over to help out with pointing out sub groups in each country and how similar and different certain customs are across multiple countries.
SK tried making new year resolutions when he first heard about them from America, and he always makes the same one every year nearing the end of the 1980s, no matter if it is kept, even if only with marginal results, or drops catastrophically: Have a better relationship with NK. He knows he has very little control over it, considering politics, but in an ideal world where it was just he and his brother influencing their relationship, he would do anything to start mending it. They were bonded together and had each other's backs through thick and thin for centuries if not millennia, only for it be shredded to bits in the span of half a century. There was a time for a few decades where he truly despised NK, just because the wounds kept reopening and the resulting emotional rollercoaster was extremely chaotic, but his anger and feelings of betrayal have been tempered enough where regret and sadness have slowly started to form with some logical reasoning behind it. He's also starting to realize that the longer they are separated and at odds with each other, the less likely reunification will be possible, not only from practical and logistical standpoints like economy, military, and what not, but even from a cultural perspective where he's beginning to see that their own languages are slowly starting to split and certain cultural norms don't hold up as well between them. SK actually was terrified slightly when one day he and NK were in an argument and he was having a hard time understanding him.
Rusnk: From what I understand and have researched briefly, I believe New Years is a bigger deal in Russia than Christmas is, considering Christmas came back after the Soviet Union fell.
Russia loves New Year's. Not necessarily for the idea of "new year, new me" that is common in America where it's a clean slate, but just because a new year means a chance to try again, to learn from the previous year and do better. The idea of making a resolution is still a fairly newer concept introduced, but he likes the idea of them. One in particular that he made that he kept was try to find the good, beauty, or happiness in even the littlest of things. He's lived so long with bitter cold and such a dark history, often by his own hand too, that he's forgotten that not everything in the world is a cold, cruel place or is meant to break him. Even if it is only in a few things or even one thing for an entire year, he finds it as an accomplishment. He's recently started to see snow as more than just brutal winter and has started to see the beauty snow fall can be and the happy times winter can bring, like children making forts or snowball fights, gathering around warmth for celebrations and family time, the way silence doesn't have to be deafening or oppressive and that it can bring peace of mind. It helps that NK likes to indulge in these kinds of things on occasion, and often times will compose poetry with Russia as a means to help organize thoughts and see the better aspects of things.
One that he definitely drops is trying to cut back on his liquor intake, not necessarily due to liking liquor that much, but mostly cause it is so hard to do and political matters and emotional trauma don't make it any easier. He tries, at least around NK, to not drink that much mostly because the other tries to drink with him and it is an absolute disaster when the Korean does. He's also noticing the effects the amount of liquor he normally drinks is starting to have on his body, despite being an immortal. Probably died of cirrhosis of the liver a few times before he knew what it was in his time as a nation. He's realizing he has an addiction of sorts, but doesn't have the knowledge, constant support (NK can't always be by his side 24/7 and he lives alone majority of the time), and massive amounts of will power to either consistently drink less or kick it entirely. He still makes this resolution each year because he is learning from the previous year of what has worked and not and is getting better each time.
NK is far more inclined to Chinese New Year, but indulges in the Western New Year once in a while, mostly because Russia loves it so much. He's very much a pessimistic pragmatic when it comes to resolutions, since he believes people mostly do them as a front and don't actually mean to follow through with them, and that a new year is just "new year, same sh!t". He also doesn't care for them cause they are a Western tradition, but did some mostly to humor Russia.
One he did keep was just doing more creative things, like practicing his instruments or writing or drawing, mostly because he's realized he hasn't had time as of late to do any of them for several years and missed them to an extent. Thankfully, part of Russia's resolutions helped to keep his, since he and Russia write poetry together when Russia is struggling to see the good in things on a particularly bad day. He also likes to play his violin with Russia when the other has his own out. They actually work quite well together once they get through the rusty phase.
One he actually thought he was going to keep turned out to be the one he dropped, which was just trying to say one nice thing to people, whether daily or just whenever he actually saw any other nations. He figured out quickly that his attitude and temper make that really difficult for himself, and when they aren't a factor he botches it and will accidentally insult someone or stumble over his words because his social skills are near zero when not in a professional setting.
Commieburger: America loves making resolutions, but is bad at keeping them unless he has help, while NK is the pessimistic pragmatic that sees right through the sugarcoating and calls bullsh!t on them. The only reason America got NK to made a resolution at all was through compromise and a deal. America broached the subject with the idea of a shared resolution between them, that way both of them work at it together and progress will be made in their relationship. NK mulled it over for a bit, but gave in when he thought about how this would benefit them in the long run.
Their two resolutions were to be able to read each other better so they were more likely to be on the same page more often, which they did end up keeping, and the other was lessening petty arguments, which they debate over if it technically was kept or not.
A lot of their miscommunication, after some discussion, mostly stems from either not understanding intentions, word choice, or just a lack of accurately reading the other. Like, America often thinks NK is in a foul mood when really he's either just deep in thought about something or he's actually neutral (his resting facial expression doesn't help). NK had a hard time figuring out if America was actually boasting or was trying to hide his insecurities or nervousness with the hero complex. The resolution was open-ended on how they would achieve it, but it allowed both of them to generate ways that would hopefully work. NK was prone to doing round-about ideas, such as playing chess to analyze ticks and expressions of the other to get a general idea of certain behaviors or ticks he sees occurring in other situations, since he knows he sucks at directly communicating when it comes to opening up or just with emotions in general. America is more direct and will just ask on occasion, at least giving NK a heads-up that he's trying to ask about more minor stuff so as to not make the other too uncomfortable. Usually he does this while treating NK to food or drinks he made that he knows the other won't turn his nose up at, since NK is more agreeable when there is food involved. It actually worked better than anticipated when America realize he was no longer walking on egg shells with second guessing if NK was in a good mood or meant any of the things he says, especially with verbal ticks or slight expression changes or physical ticks. NK, in turn, became more aware of when America was trying to put on a show and became better at understanding the sources of these acts while being able to temper the other's fears or nerves.
Now, the petty arguments. America makes the point that what people would call "petty arguments" tend to be more debates between them, and, since major arguments are now only happening once in a blue moon or under very specific circumstances, shouldn't count as petty arguments and that they did keep that resolution, too. NK still sees them as arguing, considering they both get pretty riled up when defending themselves, rather than civil debates. He also believes, due to have been around the block a few times as far as age goes and has experienced far more in terms of nationhood in comparison to America, that he knows the difference between light arguments and civil debate and is very steadfast at keeping that stance, thus this was a flop. Ironically, this topic in of itself results in one of those petty arguments/debates between them that will still be talked about years later.
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yandere-mha · 5 years ago
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Ooh okay, so when you (obviously) start to wilt and withdraw and die on the inside after you’ve been snagged, which yanderes are the “aw this one’s broken, time to get rid of it” type, who are the “oh fuck oh no what do I do what do I do?!?” type, and who are the “oh thank god I’m here, they would have had to go through this alone otherwise” type?
Okay *breaks knuckles* so this is gonna get a little complicated because I feel like a lot of them would be multiple at the same time or none of them at all and here’s my reasons why:
TW: ABUSE, SELF-HARM, THREATS OF SUICIDE, VIOLENCE, TORTURE MENTION, SPOUSAL MURDER, SMUT, DUBIOUS CONSENT, NON-CON.
MAJOR BNHA MANGA SPOILERS.
READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.
Dabi: He would be the “oh fuck oh no what do I do what do I do?!?” type on the inside and feel immense self-hatred, blaming Endeavor for creating him, but he would also be super insulted and angry at you on the outside. He’d take this as a personal insult, thinking he’s so unlovable and that you hate him so much that you completely withdraw from him out of spite. Not even you can love him. What the fuck does he have to do to have anyone give a shit about him? Tbh, he’d probably have sex with you featuring very dubious consent, not only because he’s looking to hurt, embarrass, and disgust you with his scarred body, but he’s so desperate for you to see the good things he can do for you if you just come back to him please just come back. 
Hawks: 100% the “oh fuck oh no what do I do what do I do?!?” type, but he would think of this as a necessary sacrifice to keep you safe. While he would curse himself and wish he were dead for making such a lovely and chipper sunflower lose the twinkle in their eyes, he prioritizes your safety over your happiness. He would rather have you be one of the walking dead than have to worry about losing the only person he truly cares about. Still, he would mourn your metaphorical death by clinging to your limp body and sobbing into your chest, pleading for you to just say something he’s so alone.
Shigaraki: Similar to Dabi in the way that he’d say “oh fuck oh no what do I do what do I do?!?” on the inside, but he’d get really pissed at you on the outside. Though unlike Dabi, he takes this more in a way that you’re protesting and being a spoiled little brat. He’ll convince himself that you’re just faking it and you’re not actually depressed, but you’re giving him the cold shoulder because you’re mad that you asked him permission to go outside and he said no. How ungrateful. He may even threaten you but it’s less in anger and more in a desperate attempt to have you react to something because you acting like this scares the ever-loving shit out of him.
Tamaki and Twice: I think y’all already know that they’re both “oh fuck oh no what do I do what do I do?!?” types. They’ll scream and sob and say that they’re sorry and to just please come back to them again they’ll do anything. They’ll even take out a butcher’s knife and hold it to their wrists in front of you telling you that they’ll kill themselves if it will make you feel better. If that doesn’t work they’d ask if you want to slit their throats yourself.
Fatgum: Mostly a “oh thank god I’m here, they would have had to go through this alone otherwise” type at the beginning, but as you start to neglect your wifely (gender neutral) duties he’ll quickly get bored of you unless you’re pregnant and become the “aw this one’s broken, time to get rid of it” type. He’d tell himself how much of a good husband he is for helping his wife or husband through this super random bout of depression. He thinks maybe if you eat a little more, get more cuddles, or get a pet, you’ll go right back to being normal. If you take too long to do so and he’s not getting what he wanted out of you, he’ll get frustrated with you which may end with him accidently killing you. Whether that does happen or not, there are other fish in the sea he supposes. Who wouldn’t want to be with such a great guy like him? There’s obviously still a lot of lingering resentment with him though since his next victim isn’t even allowed to speak your name in this house. He always compares the new victim to you in his head and snaps at them because they’ll never live up to you.
Stain and Aizawa: Again, “oh fuck oh no what do I do what do I do?!?” types. This would greatly upset the both of them and they’re aware that this is their fault, but they just can’t let you go. While they both would be really quiet about their guilt and not really acknowledge the elephant in the room, they would stare at you all the time completely still for hours on end just to see if you’d show any signs of life. They’d silently come up behind you and wrap their arms around your torso in a non-verbal plea to not leave them alone.
Overhaul: Imma be real with you, chief - he wouldn’t care and he might not even notice. He doesn’t care about you or your happiness because he sees you as a non-person. Would you care about the feelings of the chair you’re sitting on? That’s how he would feel on the subject. 
Miruko: An “oh fuck oh no what do I do what do I do?!?” type, but she’d act like she’s the “aw this one’s broken, time to get rid of it” type to scare you. Though her sadism makes it seem like she only sees you as her toy to torment, and you are, she does legitimately love you and she wants you to love her back. Deep down, she’d know she went too far and that this is her own fault for not being able to have some self restraint, but her logic would be that she needs to scare you out of your depression and act like the monster you think she is. She’d tell you that if she doesn’t hear you scream, she’ll throw you away and get someone who screams louder, amping up the torture all the way to ten just to get you to say something.
Geten: This is when he can get... scary. He’s extremely devoted to you and the most distinct quality about yandere Geten is how differently he treats you from other people and how weak in the knees you make him... boy has an explosive temper though. He will shriek at you to stop this little game of yours because it’s not fucking funny, angry tears spilling out of his eyes. He has abandonment issues and this, in his opinion, is your own cruel way to abandon him and he will absolutely blame you for this out of a blind rage. He’ll grab your body and shake you violently, unintentionally giving you frost-bite on top of depression. This is probably the thing he will blame himself for though as he holds your trembling body in the tub of luke-warm water while he continues to shriek.
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asterekmess · 5 years ago
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What did Scott McCall do to deserve a “true alpha” title exactly?
Well, to be entirely honest, that’s not how a True Alpha is supposed to work.
True Alpha (hereby referred to as TA) abilities aren’t something you ‘earn’ by doing something. If we take what Deaton and Morrell say at face value, that there’s literally no way to ‘earn’ becoming a True Alpha. No selfless act, no nothing.
It’s just something you are. Deaton describes it in “Currents” as “someone who rises purely on the strength of character, by virtue, by sheer force of will.’
Now, technically...those things don’t require you to do anything. Essentially, someone who believes they should be an Alpha strongly enough can become an Alpha. And the virtue part is weird, because it never says what virtue. There are a few.
The Seven Christian Virtues Are:
Chastity - “Purity”
Temperance - “Humanity/Compassion”
Charity - “Generosity/Sacrifice”
Diligence - “Persistence/Ethics”
Patience - “Forgiveness/Mercy”
Kindness - “Satisfaction/Compassion again”
Humility - “Bravery/Modesty”
Now, there are two ways of looking at this. Either a True Alpha must be “Virtuous,” as in, someone who has ALL seven virtues. OR, a True Alpha must fully embody ONE virtue”
Now, if it were the case of the first, that...doesn’t make much sense. Scott isn’t pure in like..any sense of the word? He’s not sexually pure (though that doesn’t actually exist, obviously) but he’s also not free of jealousy. And you can’t even say that just because he IS jealous doesn’t mean he’s not pure because he never acted on it, because HE DID. MULTIPLE TIMES. He tried to attack Jackson and Allison when they were talking in the car. He insisted on playing lacrosse when Lydia told him she’d introduce Allison to the other members of the team.
The same things happens when you look at any of the other virtues. It isn’t that he just has bad thoughts and then that’s it. It’s that he acts on those thoughts and insecurities and commits violence and acts against other people in the name of securing his superiority/power. He doesn’t show a lick of compassion with Derek’s Betas, outright telling Erica that he doesn’t care why she wanted the bite. Telling Boyd that he’d made a mistake in liking Derek and implying that being lonely was a stupid reason to want the bite. Even making the claim that Isaac had bloodlust even though Isaac hadn’t lost control since he’d been bitten when had to at least have been one day, and even though Isaac clearly didn’t lose control in front of any officers the entire time he was being interrogated about his father’s abuse and death, only losing it after the moon went up, and only to stop a hunter from killing him.
I won’t go on with every single virtue, but the evidence is there.
Now, let’s go one step further into the possible reasoning behind him being a TA. Maybe, you say, maybe Scott didn’t become a TA before S3 because of those previous things he did. When he went against the virtues, he couldn’t become a TA. But then in S3 he’s doing So Much Better, so then he gets to become a TA.
Except he doesn’t. Yes, in S3A he’s shown to be suddenly much wiser, because he apparently spent the summer reading and working on self-improvement. But it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t continue to do extremely immoral things throughout the season, right down to pettily helping Isaac and Allison play a prank on the Twins that would get them in major trouble and lying to the people around him so he could go have a secret meeting with Deucalion.
And this isn’t even me trying to diss Scott. The ENTIRE POINT of the Seven virtues is that NO ONE can be perfect. No one can embody all of these virtues at once. Humans are FLAWED. The problem here is that if we don’t make the Virtuous part required to become a TA then it’s just FAR too easy to do.
If “sheer force of will” is enough to become an Alpha, if occasionally doing immoral things doesn’t totally negate your ability to ‘rise up’ (even though Alphas aren’t better. They’re canonically just one branch. One option. Alpha, Beta, and Omega aren’t ever specified as one being better than the other. Hell, Scott’s an Omega until he Gets the Alpha eyes, since he never joins Derek’s pack, and he isn’t even weakened by it) then PETER HALE should’ve become an Alpha.
You don’t get a force of will stronger than Screaming into the woods about “I Will Always Be The Alpha.”
But Tali, you say, Peter killed someone and we all know that killing someone means you can’t become a TA.
Well, First, I’ll point out that Scott came up with that idea on his own. No one told him that. He just said it in the meeting with Morrell “But if I kill someone, I can’t become a True Alpha, right?”.
Now, maybe Deaton told him that, and he’s just repeating something that was said offscreen. After all, Morrell does respond with “Exactly.” So maybe that is a rule.
But see, if that’s a rule, then Deaton was sabatoging Scott in Season 2.
Remember? Deaton helped Scott switch out Gerard’s pills with mountain ash. They were Actively Murdering a Cancer Patient. If Deaton “believed” “From the moment” Scott was bitten that he would be a TA, then wouldn’t that mean that S2 was ENTIRELY him trying to take away the TA potential from Scott? If That plan had worked? Scott would never have been able to become an Alpha.
OH, you say, but Scott didn’t technically kill Gerard, even if the pills worked. It was Derek and the mountain ash. Scott never touched him.
BUT, if that’s the case, then AGAIN literally ANYONE who truly believes they should be able to become an Alpha should become a TA. When you twist the definitiion of ‘killing’ like that, Derek should’ve been able to be a TA before he killed Peter. TeCHniCAllY Derek didn’t kill Paige, Ennis’ bite did. He was saving her from the pain.
And so, you end up playing so many different games trying to make TA’s special and rare, only to make them IMPOSSIBLE to become, but that leaves you with two, maybe three choices. Either you Remove the TA idea altogether, you admit that anybody can become a TA and you give it to the other characters who match the criteria, or you turn the ONE character you want to give it to into a LITERAL SAINT.
And they didn’t even do that correctly, because Scott isn’t perfect in S3 or beyond. He ISN’T a saint, and he does admit that regularly, though it’s not with any amount of humility or wish to grow as a person.
So it’s no wonder that nobody likes the True Alpha concept. It doesn’t make any fucking sense.
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bondsmagii · 4 years ago
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Hey read (some of) this blog post (long as hell), tries to pick it up where your old scp cult post left off: lackoflepers medium com/scp-is-not-a-cult-196e87ce6b11
(link)
this is insane. I've never written anything that's ever received a full response before, so that's exciting. what's even more exciting is that this piece does raise some really interesting questions, and is very well-written and thoughtful.
the strange thing is, I think we're both in agreement -- but I'm calling it a cult, and the author of this piece is calling it a "fledgling religion". I agree with this outlook, if I'm honest -- but at the same time I can't help but think that this has filled a hole in my cult theory, rather than poked a hole in it.
when I wrote the original cult post, the one thing I couldn't quite equate was the religion aspect. there was a lot of things to consider from that aspect, in terms of cults requiring a certain doctrine, rituals, etc, and while I was able to draw comparisons to the site culture and these things, it didn't quite fit. this article explains and illustrates exactly what all of these things are, and the sheer amount of similarities between the SCP wiki culture and religious fundamentalists. it's absolutely incredible, how it all still adds up.
however, some things are way off. I understand the author has a history with site and with staff, and they obviously understand that there's a complicated relationship between the two. the piece certainly tackles the question from an educated site-critical standpoint, but I can't help but notice some glaring omissions and in some places, assumptions which I feel are quite simply incorrect. under the cut we go, because this is long.
the author seems to be very ignorant of the site's cyclical patterns. one of their main arguments for the wiki's not being a cult is how people like Dr Gears and thedeadlymoose don't have more power over the masses, being such important figures. the problem with the wiki is that it is very cyclical, and big names of one era do not translate over to new eras. big names replace old ones, and the old ones either become fond grandparent figures (like Gears, who had the sense to take a step back before the tides changed against him) or they become irrelevant or reviled (like thedeadlymoose, or pixelatedharmony (Roget).) this means that if the former appeals to the group, they will get essentially a pat on the head and a gentle dismissal, or if the latter speak out they will be silenced, harassed, banned, etc. this is very cultlike behaviour -- if somebody goes against the grain, they become an immediate enemy of the people. the only way to survive fame on the wiki is to retire quietly, at your peak, and keep yourself to yourself.
going on from this, there are also different levels to how a staff member is seen. there have been eras of the site where the site admin might not be as impressive as one of the prolific writers, for example. who these days knows about The Administrator? it's all Dr Gears to them. different authors have different levels of unofficial authority, and the author of the piece doesn't seem to realise that it's a cult of personality as much as anything else. there are constant divisions among staff, even if they present a united front; frequently those not toeing the party line have been ostracised or purged, and this filters down to the average user. just because a person is on staff does not mean they immediately skyrocket to godhood, if we're using the religious metaphor. this is why it seems as though "staff" as a whole isn't uniformly worshipped -- they're not. there are complex currents of power at work here, and it's frustrating because at first glance it seems to invalidate the very real fact that a few site members have all the authority. the staff worship extends to staff members. those in lower tiers will act similarly to those in higher tiers as a new member would act towards all staff.
the author draws attention to thedeadlymoose's impressive efforts to bring the site forward from its 4chan beginnings and make it more inclusive to LGBT members -- something that has undoubtedly had an effect. however, the author does not mention that to date, the site's only successful splinter site (as in, a site that lasted more than a few weeks) is RPC, and while this website came about for multiple reasons, it's undeniable that one of these reasons was because of the fact that the wiki was openly supportive of LGBT people during Pride Month. it's also interesting to note that the author is also a member of the RPC site, so it's odd that this piece of the site's origins is not mentioned.
the acceptance of these pro-LGBT policies also seems to be less wide-spread than the author believes -- most people don't care, there does exist users who are homophobic or transphobic, and -- something I'm surprised wasn't mentioned at all in the piece -- when LGBT members of the site spoke up and said the new logo made them feel pandered to, and the resulting blowout made them feel targeted and unsafe, they were mass banned from the subreddit by a rogue moderator who, incensed by the fact his authority was so challenged, then ragequit and abused people on the threads for several hours. this is a typical staff response to discontent in the masses. so yes, thedeadlymoose did have some significant sway in the attitude changing somewhat, but it was not as widespread (nor as cared about) as the article's author seems to think.
now, I shall move on to specific quotations.
Furthermore, as a gaggle of creators, SCP should never feature the mass conformity of thought that defines a cult; theirs is an ecosystem that predicates itself upon creation, and obsessively on the new and original — that is to say, the different (but tempered).
while the author does elaborate on this idea of creativity and conformity, this is just wrong. again, I blame the author's ignorance in regards to the cyclical nature of the site -- which isn't the fault of the author, in my opinion. such cycles are slow, measuring out in years rather than months, which is insanely long for an internet community. in order to notice them, you would have to have been observing for some time -- which I have been. since I have been observing the site (which has been since its very creation -- I was on the 4chan thread in 2007 when 173 was created and I have seen the wiki from its infancy on EditThis over to wikidot) I have seen this happen countless times. a type of writing, be it style or genre, takes off. it could be LOLFoundation, grimdark, whatever -- it takes off, it runs the site for a year or so, and then it crashes and burns. when it takes off, there are rules for writing it that must be obeyed lest you be downvoted to oblivion. as the attitude turns against it, those who still write it are vilified and ostracised, and the new one takes over. there have been mass purges in the past, and there has always been, since the wiki's inception, conformity of thought. one of my oldest complaints about the wiki is that, for a site full of writers, they have no imagination and absolutely no desire to step out of the approved style.
To put it very broadly, things get accustomed to the status quo in a highly regulated environment, and get better at simply remaining and surviving in that.
this could be a decent rebuff to my previous point, but the fact is that while the SCP wiki harbours cultish behaviour, a vast majority of the users are casual readers who maybe write one or two articles. the stagnation is, at least partially, because of the fact that most users sign up, read some articles, think "cool, I have an idea for one!", write it -- and have it emulate the articles they've read, thus sounding similar in tone and content to the rest of the recent articles -- get a semi-decent response if lucky, and then move on after a few months or years.
the people who power the wiki, however -- who are prolific, who churn out insane amount of articles -- are suffering from what I outlined in my above point. a small percentage of the wiki dictates the direction it goes. it has always been like this -- and people who go against the grain that staff have employed, be it old user or new, will pay for it. this payment is often in downvotes, but occasionally comes in harassment, bans, or deletions, too.
Lastly a cult is really the most extreme version of a religion, it is a religion on steroids.
this is straight-up incorrect. cults began as religions gone hayware, yes, but the idea of a cult as a Jonestown-style compound in the middle of nowhere is outdated. cults are the most extreme version of an ideology -- be it religious, political, or otherwise. they are ideologies on steroids. thanks to the internet, they also no longer have to be in real life spaces. you can be in a social cult on Twitter or on Discord; you can be in a cult of ideology on an incel forum or in a social circle of TERF blogs. all of these things are cults. they have cult-like behaviour and thinking.
this is where the author proves my point beyond all doubt. the author says the following about the wiki's increasingly left-wing inclusive policies:
What was intended to be an executive extension in peace has, due to the force required to counteract the sheer hostility and persecution once leveled at this group at its peak, instead overshot its mark and has become a brutal bureaucratic sanctioning of political identity. (I can hear someone saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.)
the biggest shift in this cult-think, for me, was observed when the shift towards Terminally Online Woke Left attitudes began to be increasingly observed. I'm not talking about getting people to tone down the homophobia and whatnot. I'm talking about this culture of purity and suffering that the author outlines very well in the article; if you have read the article, I needn't go over it again. the wiki now holds a monopoly on suffering using the same kind of Oppression Olympics as other spaces devoted to purity culture -- and purity culture is a cult. this is straight-up fact at this point. it is my belief that staff identified the power available to them in a) targeting people from oppressed and vulnerable groups and giving them a so-called safe space and b) using their various oppressions to their advantage.
something that is prolific in purity culture circles is that somebody who is oppressed in any way cannot be held to blame for their actions. they cannot be a bad person. this is ideological armour, and staff wields it. they also use purity culture and apparently progressive ideology to shut down anyone who dissents, and to smear their name and have then ostracised as an enemy. why do they do this? liking the power and fame of their position is a big part of it, as the author outlined, but something major is missing.
throughout the entire article, the author does not once mention the detailed and extensive history of staff sexually abusing minors on the site.
this is well-documented by this point. staff has seen many predators in its ranks, including one of the most prolific site members of all time -- AdminBright, or The Duckman. staff has known about these staff members and has covered it up over years. I myself have heard testimony from countless victims, but whenever we raise enough of a stink, a staff member does an "internal investigation" and nothing comes of it. the fact that the cult-like behaviour of this website can be discussed without one of the cornerstones of cult activity -- using its members for financial or sexual gain -- is astounding to me.
to go on from this, there is also no mention of the SCP lawyer fund, which raised over $30,000 and then faced staff actively resisting transparency as to the case and the funds. financial manipulation is another major example of cult behaviour.
without acknowledging these two things, I do not think that a full argument against the idea of the SCP wiki as a cult can be possible.
the author raises a good point that illustrates both why staff acts the way it does, and why the users are so eager to imitate:
The answer is something that can turn someone into their nemesis; something that would make someone sell their soul for 1000 upvotes; that tragic commonality that binds all individuals who feel the need to write; the need to be received, but more, to be loved for it.
this is a big reason why staff clings to its power, and why people sell out their creativity, and why people emulate this behaviour, and why prolific authors burn out so fast. however, running through all of this at its core -- through the need to be received and loved -- is the power that comes with it. this is all about power.
to mention the specific example of LordStonefish, and his reaction when he found out that his interviewer was enemy of the people pixelatedharmony, now of "burning out, ragequitting the site, and going to talk shit on KiwiFarms" infamy:
[...] it was as if LSF was speaking to a leper, and that the ongoing participation in the salvation of public approval (not to mention site participation as well) was directly dependent upon LSF’s rebuke of pH as a demon who is only worthy of a terrible fate and, as we see in the screencaps, even death.
leaving my personal opinions on Harmony out of this, going from a perfectly civil interview to finding out that the interviewer was an enemy and not only dumping all of his private information to offset doxing, but also going into detail about some highly personal stuff for shock value... I don't think Harmony quite required that treatment. the fact is that, as the quote outlines above, the only way to ensure that he wouldn't be completely ostracised for fraternising with the enemy (KiwiFarms -- of which Harmony is apparently the ambassador) was to behave like a man shunning a sinner. Harmony has sinned -- she rejected the status quo, she defied the group and its authority, and LordStonefish, in order to remain safe from being tarred with the same brush -- has to react with suitable horror to her presence.
it should be noted here that while KiwiFarms has a reputation for being a hive of scum and villainy, its main reputation regarding the SCP Wiki has been for being the one place where complaints against the site are openly discussed, often by defected staff members such as pixelatedharmony and Cyantreuse, and perhaps most telling of all -- the place where a lot of accounts of sexual harassment and abuse have been filed. staff rails against it on the grounds of it being filled with people who use slurs and have questionable ideological beginnings (ironic, coming from a website which began on 4chan) -- but as a leftist myself with extensive knowledge of the wiki, I can confirm that no criticisms I've seen on there have been unfair or inaccurate, and in fact a lot of the evidence and testimony posted there is damning. it would be fair to not wish to associate with the site because of its content in other places, or even its past reputation, but the fact staff rail against it so hard when it's currently one of the only places (and certainly the only public place) where their deeds are on display? it's interesting.
of LordStonefish's reaction, the author says:
This is the behavior of a deeply religious figure.
it is. this is the reaction of a Mormon meeting an old friend who has left the church. this is the reaction of a Jehovah's Witness crossing the street to avoid a shunned neighbour. it is the behaviour, you could say, of a cult member.
in the conclusion, the author states:
And if anyone is to shoulder blame for the creation of this pathology and its complex, it are those true bigots of history and today, who don’t have the spiritual maturity to understand that someone’s sexual preference or identity shouldn’t be enough to categorically separate them from a definition of humanity; to beat, maim, and wish death upon them.
perhaps this might have been true, perhaps this might have drawn a thoughtful and damning line under the whole affair, if not for the fact that this behaviour has been occurring since long before the internet became known for its progressive and now increasingly often, ridiculous takes on inclusion and sensitivity. this kind of cultish groupthink has been ongoing since the wiki's very first inception. the cyclical worship of a group of staff members and other prolific writers (though the group are often one and the same) and their chosen theme or genre has occurred like clockwork since the late 00s. it has occurred when the website was still entrenched in its 4chan days and saying slurs was barely blinked at. it was still there back when staff was predominantly (or at least presumably) cis, white, and male. it was there when being gay was the butt of a joke and being trans was all but unthought of. it has always been there, and while the latest progressive policies and attitudes have had an effect on how the power is wielded, it has not changed the power itself. if the tides ever turn on the Terminally Online Woke ideology, staff will change with it and adapt their policies and ideologies to keep their power.
if anyone is to shoulder the blame for the creation of this pathology, it is the elitist attitude that has allowed a select few to be worshipped unquestionably. it is the power-hungry individuals who seek out fame and respect on a writing website and then use this fame and respect to treat others badly and their fear of a fall from grace to shelter others treating people worse. it is on the shoulders of the staff members who use their position to groom and sexually assault minors. it is on the shoulders of the staff members who keep it silent. as the severity of staff's secrets has increased, so has their attempts to silence dissent and reform at all costs.
the author agrees that this kind of religious think might lead to a cult in the future. the author says the cult will be a cult of vulnerability, but I disagree. I believe the cult is already there, and it is -- and always has been -- a cult of power.
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svnflowervol666 · 5 years ago
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Paper Peonies (70′s crime boss!Harry x fem!Reader)
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Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: violence, death, other than that she’s squeaky clean! (nervous laughter)
Author’s Note: Yes, this is inspired by that one part in Tiger King and no, I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had this scenario stuck in my head for a while (and by a while I mean March aka I am slow as hell to get shit done but I digress), and that combined with my obsession with the show Good Girls is where this fic blossomed. This is obviously set up to have multiple parts, so I hope this is enough to draw you in for what happens between Harry and Y/N after this! Take care and TPWK.
April 22, 1977 ~ New York City
She had always been suspicious of what Harry did for a living. His clothes were nice, the lapels of whatever color suit he’d decided to wear that day were always pressed with the upmost attention to detail and she’d never once seen even the tiniest scuff on his loafers. The chocolate brown curls on top of his head, no matter how dishevelled they appeared to be, always looked intentionally messy as if each wild strand had its own position to uphold. He never missed a nail appointment, and Y/N knew this because she always smelled the faintest hint of acetone trail behind him after his cologne with notes of sweet tobacco and ginger each time he entered the flower shop where he worked. Everything about his presence led her to believe that Harry was important man, but she hadn’t realized just how influential he was until tonight.
Harry visited her once a week. Every Wednesday for the past six months at precisely one o’clock in the afternoon, the wind chime attached to the door at the store entrance would announce his arrival. He always ordered a custom bouquet, the most expensive option in their catalogue, and always insisted that Y/N be the one to make it. She had creative authority over which flowers went where, which colors to use - “Whatever your pretty little heart desires,” as he would tell her as he smirks behind his amber tinted sunglasses. He always tipped, no matter how many times she told him this was a flower shop and that she didn’t work for tips, and he always plucked the prettiest, freshest flower out of the bouquet and handed it back to Y/N. He'd drop the flower into the display vase at the register if she refused the gesture, and other times he’d tuck the stem right behind her ear, caressing her cheek in the softest manner to intentionally fluster her. Harry knew she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, as he’d come to know her just as well through the small talk they made during each one of his visits, which is why it amused him so much to see this girl, kind and short-tempered, freeze up at the slightest touch of his fingers on her skin.
Y/N knew he was a man with a routine, which is why she grew inherently worried when one o’clock rolled around and Harry had yet to show his face in the flower shop. She wasn’t sure why she even cared so much; he was only a customer. Sure, he was easy on the eyes and always flirted with her and it was just about the only form of male interraction she’d come across throughout the entire time that she’d known him, but that was all he was - a customer. So, to busy herself and her thoughts, she’d scrubbed the countertops a few more times than necessary and paid far too much attention to the arrangement of pots and vases for the rest of her shift.
It had all happened so suddenly.
At first, she had been giving the shop its final sweep before closing. The gentle singing of the wind chime made Y/N curse under her breath. We close in ten minutes, why the fuck are you here? But her irritation soon turned to relief when her eyes met his - Harry’s. He graciously apologized for being late, though he had no reason to. She didn’t even ask him what she wanted, only going immediately to work on the bouquet she’d been planning out all day in her head for the next time she saw him.  
One minute, she was chatting him up and playfully giving him a hard time as she always does, and the next, she heard the unmistakable sound of gun shots and she was being shoved underneath the cash register by Harry and told to “Stay there, and don’t fucking move until I come get you.”
She isn’t sure, but she thinks she’s went into shock because she can barely see and although she can hear glass breaking and the strangled voices of two men going head to head, but it all rings faint and distant in her ears. Her knees tuck impossibly close to her shoulders as she hunches underneath the counter in imminent fear that whatever or whoever is out there creating an ungodly amount of damage is coming for her next and out of all places, her unproductive, measly life would come to abrupt halt in a fucking flower shop of all places.
It could have been five minutes, it could have been hours, but there’s a lingering gun shot proceeded by a harsh thud that she somehow hears through the ringing in her ears and she can sense that the quarell had ended. She scurries backward into the tan wood when she hears footsteps approaching her, too scared to even look up because she’s convinced that she’s next.
“Y/N...Y/N? Y/N!” she comes to when she realizes that it’s Harry shaking her wearily by the shoulders.
“Where’s the phone?”
There’s caked blood around his ringed knuckles, a thin trail of crimson liquid running down his temple and his cheekbone rears an ugly cut that’ll certainly take weeks to heal, but he’s seemingly unharmed aside from the few casualties on his face.
“What?” she asks, still in a daze and utterly confused as to why he’s asking a question like that at a time like this.
“Tell me where the phone is.”
His voice is stern and if she’s being honest, it scares the shit out of her because if Harry is still alive and well, she’s not so sure that the other guy is.
“O-over by the broom closet.”
“I’ll be back in a second. Whatever you do, stay here and do not look over the counter,” is all he says before disappearing from her view.
She tries her hardest, she really does, not to eavesdrop on the conversation Harry is having with whoever is on the other line of the phone. He’s speaking in whispers and so low that it’s almost undetectable, but she hears bits and pieces.
“The flower shop on Main Street...It’s fine, I just need yeh t’ bring the boys here now...Yeh, there was someone else here but I’m taking care of it.”
That last bit is enough to send bone-chilling shiver down her spine. It kicked her fight or flight response into full gear, which has her scrambling to her feet ready to book it out of the shop to the nearest payphone so she could call the police. After all, shouldn’t she regardless? Given that a shootout just happened in the lobby of her fucking workplace. She moves to stand up, but a jarring sight over the counter she’d been hiding under stopped her.
A pool of blood, the most she’s ever seen, surrounded a limp body whose face was battered to the point of being unrecognizable laid on the ground in front of her. Her breath catches in her throat and she actually feels like she’s suffocating.
Harry did this. And all she could do was collapse right back on the ground where she had been hiding.
“Are yeh alright?”
His eyes are full of sympathy and a bit of regret when he returns, and hers are filled with frightful tears that Harry will hate himself for for the rest of his life knowing that he was the reason for. 
“I, uh... I think so,” she’s able to squeeze out in between waves of panic.
“Good,” Harry says sternly, “Now, come on. I’ll take yeh home.”
If Harry was “taking care of it,” it being her, there was no way in hell she was spending more than another second alone with Harry.
“Who is that?” her voice is quiet but firm, and it’s what makes Harry realize that she hadn’t listened to him and had definitely peeked over the counter when he wasn’t looking.
He sighs in displeasure, eyes flicking towards the dead body in the lobby of the store and then back to Y/N.
“No one yeh need t’ worry about. It’s taken care of. Now please, just let me drive yeh home so I know you’re safe.”
“No offense, Harry,” she began, “But there is no fucking way I am getting into a car with you.”
“Y/N, just-” is all he can get out before she makes a beeline for the front door and is running as far away from Harry as she possibly can.
She makes it about two blocks down the now empty streets before her lungs give up on her. In times like these, she wishes she exercised more. Just as she’s catching her breath against the door of a closed bodega, begging and praying that Harry had lost track of her, she feels headlights coming up on her backside in the distance.
“Y/N!” It’s Harry, yelling at her from the driver’s side of a maroon Mustang.
“Just get in the car and I’ll explain everything.”
Not a fucking chance, buddy she thinks to herself. She gives him her sassiest side glare before resuming her fast-paced walk down the street.
It doesn’t deter Harry from creeping along the street to match her speed.
“Y/N,” he pleads.
“Fuck off, psycho” she mutters under her breath, but it’s still loud enough for Harry to hear.
“It’s 1977, Y/N! Do yeh know how many serial killers are on the loose right now? Get in the fucking car!” 
He’s getting ansty now. Not only by her persistance to get away from him, but because of the fact that he knows whenever he looses sight of her, she’s going straight to the police and everything he’s built for himself will come crashing down on him. He never thought that his sweet, hot-headed Y/N would be his downfall.
“Why?” Y/N stopped abruptly and spun around on her heels to face him.
“So you can get rid of your witness? I’m good. Blow my brains right here out on the sidewalk, please. I’d prefer a junkie to keep my corpse company over the maggots in whatever hole in the Bronx you planned on throwing me in.”
“Christ, you’re impossible.”
Harry didn’t even bother saying that under his breath.
“Here,” he starts, reaching for the button on the glove compartment.
Using the dull, yellow street lights and infinitely glowing neon signs in the store-fronts of the buildings around her, she can see that he’s pulled out a pistol. It causes her to jump back a few steps, as if she hadn’t just politely asked him to kill her on the sidewalk in the first place.
“Fuck, sorry. Didn’t mean t’ scare yeh.”
Well it’s a little too fucking late for that.
He quickly unloads the cylinder and the clanking of bullets hitting his seat fills her ears. With a flick of his wrist, he presents the handle to her.
“Yeh can point it at me the whole drive. Please, just let me take yeh home so I know you’re alright.”
He seemed earnest and sincere, but based on everything that had happened to her in this short amount of time, she had come to realize that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to Harry.
However, in her brief stint on Earth, she’s decided that everything that’s happened to her thus far had been for a reason (as cliche as that seemed), and her gut was telling her trust him. After all, he had shielded her from the rainfall of bullets that more or less decimated the flower shop just minutes before.
She say anything, only yanking the gun from Harry’s grip and slamming his door shut.
“The brownstones in Bed-Stuy,” is all she tells him.
“Jesus, Y/N. We’re all the way in Chelsea. Couldn’t find a closer place to work? That’s a scary train ride home at night. Surprised yeh haven’t been kidnapped yet.”
 “You know, you really shouldn’t say shit like that considering this is the first time I’ve spent longer than ten minutes with you and I’m sitting in your car.”
Harry sighs under his breath, cursing himself for freaking her out for the umpteenth time tonight. 
He notices her struggling to load the bullets into the cylinder.
“Do yeh need hel-”
“I live alone in Brooklyn. I know how to fucking use a gun,” she snarls as the firing pin finally clicks into place.
“Alright,” Harry mumbles.
She shifts in the plush, leather seat, one elbow leaning out the open window as the other is tucked into her side so she can point the barrel of the gun right at Harry’s side.
“Okay, start talking.”
Rolling his eyes, he bangs the back of his head against the head-rest. He winces as soon as his scalp makes contact with the seat, momentarilly forgetting he’d gotten it slammed against the linoleum during the brawl in the flower shop.
“What do yeh’ want t’ know?”
“For starters, what the fuck happened at the flower shop?”
Harry feels like he’s sighed precisely nine hundred and thirty-one times tonight, but he’s somehow able to squeeze out another one before answering Y/N’s question.
“Did yeh ever meet the guy that lived above the shop?”
“Mr. Perry? He’s harmless. Why? Is that who was on the floor?”
Her sould hurt momentarily for the middle-aged man that she ocassionally crossed paths with when she’d open up the store in the mornings. He was never quite sociable, but he always tipped his hat to her when he saw her. Her boss had told her once that he always kept to himself, so she was never surprised that he never struck up a conversation with her.
““S not exactly harmless, Y/N,” Harry corrected her.
“We did...business together a few times. Found out he tried t’ cross me. Word must’ve got around tha’ I was looking for him, so I’m assuming when he saw my car outside the shop, he figured he’d take his chance t’ get rid of me.”
“What kind of business?” she deadpanned.
Harry hesitated.
“...Business,” he repeated.
The hammer of the gun locks into place, making Harry flinch and realize that he really fucked up by giving Y/N that gun.
“What kind of business?” she asks again, this time with a loaded weapon at her disposal.
“There’s...money involved. Lots of it.”
“So it’s illegal?” 
“Most definitely.”
“Fine,” she decides that she probably doesn’t want to know anyway and moves on to her next question.
“You’ve been checking up on him this whole time? That’s why you come into the flower shop?”
Harry nods hesitantly, fingers gripping impossibly harder into the steering wheel.
She scoffs, laughing almost.
“So you don’t actually bring all of those flowers to your mother then? It was all just a ruse to keep your ducks in a row?”
Y/N isn’t sure why, but her heart broke over the notion that Harry didn’t come to the flower shop every week just to see her. Even though she acted like he annoyed her most of the time, she really was quite fond of him. I mean, anyone that’s seem the man would say the same. She never expected their relationship to flourish past light conversations about what flowers are blooming, but knowing he never actually cared was a different kind of disappointment.
“No,” Harry is quick to discount her assumption and he’s looking as serious as she’s seen him all night.
“I do give them t’ my mum.”
There’s a pregnant pause before he starts talking again.
“She died when I was ten. The cemetery’s only a few blocks away from the shop.”
Y/N feels like shit for pushing him, so she flips the safety clip on the side of the gun and allows it to fall limp in her crossed legs. 
“Sorry.”
Harry’s sucks his lips into his mouth and shrugs his shoulders, letting her know that at least he knew she meant well. 
“Okay,” Y/N draws out, her anxieties that Harry is going to take a detour to the nearest boat dock and throw her into the disgustingly unsanitary water in the dead of night rapidly dwindling away.
“Let’s say you do drop me off at my apartment. What’s stopping me from running to the police the second I get out of this car and telling them everything that I saw?”
Harry laughs sarcastically, readjusting the rearview mirror. 
“Well, for starters, your fingerprints are on the murder weapon.”
“Fuck!” Y/N yells, kicking the gun out of her lap and letting it clank to the floorboard. 
It was almost soothing. He knew it was only her reaction to realizing she could be held accountable for his crimes if anyone ever did find out about what happened, but the fact that she didn’t reach for the gun after that moment made him think that she trusted him in come capacity.
“And if that wasn’t enough t’ convince yeh, he was trying to start a human trafficking ring. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t really think someone like that deserves to roam the streets. Think the world is far better off without him, don’t you?”
Okay, maybe Harry had a point.
When she hadn’t said anything in a while, letting only the sound of the wind fill the space of the car, Harry turned to look at her. Though she had unhesitantly cocked a loaded gun at aimed it directly at his face just moments ago, he couldn’t help but take his eyes off of the road and let them wander around her features.
She really was beautiful. The way her hair was blowing with the speed of his car and how the each street post they passed glowed around her sillhouette like a halo was stirring something inside of him. 
He had went into the flower shop for the first time, he was genuinely in search for flowers to place on his mother’s grave. He’d expected to be greeted by a frail, elderly woman with shaky hands behind the counter, not Y/N. She was stubborn and he could see the fire behind her eyes and with everything in him, he couldn’t place his feelings for her. Was it akin to a grade-school crush on the cute girl he sat beside on the bus? Was it sexual tension that was begging to be unleashed so he could really show her what he was capable of beyond the flirtatious touches and salacious smirks? Or was it something else?
“Think we’re here,” Harry broke the long stream of silence as the car rolled to a halt outside of her apartment building.
“Oh,” was all Y/N said, almost saddened by the fact that their interraction was reaching its end.
“I’d really appreciate it if yeh didn’t go t’ the police. I won’t stop yeh, but if yeh do this f’ me, I promise I won’t let anything bad happen t’ yeh anymore.”
His eyes looked sorrowful, like he had an inkling that she would snitch and help take him down. But there was another part of him that believed she wouldn’t.
“I won’t,” she whispered quietly.
Her fingers lingered on the wooden-coated handle as she turned to him.
“Why are you doing this?”
“This as in...?” he quirked his brow at her.
“Helping me. You could’ve easily just killed me in the shop to spare you the trouble, but you didn’t.”
A small smile broke out on Harry’s face, the corners of his perfectly-pink mouth turning up just slightly.
“Didn’t think I could make it more obvious, but...I like yeh. I care about yeh. Care about what happens t’ yeh. You’re a sweet girl. Yeh didn’t deserve t’ see all that.”
Y/N nodded, eyes zeroed in on the discarded gun and loose bullets that had been rattling on the floorboard the entire drive to her apartment. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, almost undetectable but Harry heard her. 
With this information on hand, she no longer believed Harry meant ill with anything he had done. Even murdering the man that lived in the studio above where she worked. 
He cared about her. He cared about what happened to her. And that’s why she was still here.
As she reluctantly removed herself from the passenger seat and closed the door to the mustang that must have cost a year’s worth of her rent, she pivoted and leaned on the still-open car window.
“You know,” she started, her iconic, I’m-not-even-joking-in-the-slightest expression that Harry had come to know (and love) reared its head.
“You’re paying for all of the shit you broke. Those pots are expensive and the owner’s gonna blow a fucking gasket when she comes in to do payroll tomorrow.”
This earned a genuine laugh from Harry, loaded with more than she understood at the moment, but would eventually learn more about.
“It’ll look brand new in there come morning. Swear it,” he placed his hand over his heart for good measure.
“Goodnight, Harry,” she spoke softly, her lips mimicking the smile that was plastered on his.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
//
As someone that had witnessed and was now an accomplice in a brutal murder that took place where she worked, Y/N called in sick the next day. Her undeniable PTSD had made her violently ill with even the thought of going near the entirety of Manhattan. But alas, she had bills to pay and forced herself into the flower shop on Friday. 
The second her coworkers heard the windchimes and realized it was her that had entered, they were quick to bombard her with what she had missed while she was out.
She was too busy being completely stunned by the sight in front of her.
The store was spotless. It looked exactly as it had the before “the incident.” No broken glass, no missing pots, no blood stains on the floor, and no body. It was as if Harry had never even stepped foot in the shop to begin with.
“Your guy came by looking for you. Left you a card.”
“Harry?” she asked, “Can’t be. He only comes on Wednesday’s.”
She momentarily mourned the brunette. Would he ever come back at all now that his “friend” was most likely chopped up into dozens of pieces and burried in a dump somewhere that no one would ever find?
“Real tall? Curly hair? Always wears those yellow sunglasses? Huge flirt with the mustang?”
Yep, that was him.
“It’s in the office,” her coworker added before going back to her task of sweeping up wilted petals from the ground.
“He’s a charmer, ya know?” she added.
“Seemed worried when I told him you were sick. It was kinda cute, actually.”
She was too shaken up to give her the embarrassed reaction that she knew she was waiting for, walking with purpose towards the back of the store where the office was.
Sure enough, in a beige envelope sealed with melted wax and her name written on the front in perfect cursive, was a letter. With shaking hands, she freed the expensive-feeling paper from the confines of the envelope and lifted it closer to her face so she could read it.
Thank you for not saying anything. 
Thank you for trusting me. 
I meant what I said about protecting you.
If there’s anything I can ever do for you, please don’t hesitate to reach out.
x, H.
p.s. Those pink pots were a bitch to replace. Tell your boss to stop buying product in fucking New Jersey.
And finally, written in jet black ink at the bottom of the stationary in Harry’s handwriting, was an address.
She knew she’d been there before, as the street name was notorious for being home to New York’s most bustling night clubs and dive bars, but she couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t until she’d asked her friend about it later that night over their Friday night pizza-and-beer tradition that she realized where the address would take her.
A strip club?
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fhmns · 4 years ago
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ATTENTION
IF YOU ARE READING THIS MESSAGE YOU'VE BEEN SELECTED AS A NEW ALLY OF THE FLY HIGH MAFIA NETWORKING SYSTEM (FHMNS) IF YOU READ TO THE END OF THIS YOU WILL BE SELECTED AS A NEW RECRUIT:
Welcome.
My name is SSFIKN.1 and I will be your guide to the FLY HIGH MAFIA NETWORKING SYSTEM.
In this post, I will be covering the basic information for new recruits, such as you reading this post currently. I will go over topics such as:
-BRANCHES/TEAMS
-CAPTAINS
-ROLES
Let's start with the TEAM in the most power.
IMPORTANT NOTE: The term TEAM(S) and BRANCH(ES) are interchangeable.
AOBA JOSAI/SEIJOH: The main team. They oversee any operations, and are the main bargainers when it comes to trading, and making smooth transactions between other agencies.
Iwazumi Hajime is the bodyguard for the CAPTAIN of Aoba Josai, Oikawa Toru.
Oikawa Toru is the one who holds all the negotiations with other mafia networks, since he is very persuasive and very good at finding loopholes or other things that can guarantee alliances.
Takahiro Hanamaki is in charge of conducting the meetings, if for whatever reason, Oikawa cannot attend.
Matsukawa Issei is in charge of being the bodyguard for Hanamaki, because if Oikawa isn’t attending, Iwazumi has no reason to as well.
Everyone else who’s a part of seijoh is just in charge of getting the materials and items ready for the trade to go smoothly, as well as confirming that they got what was promised to them.
--------- SHIRATORIZAWA: In charge of defense. The CAPTAIN of this team has lost a lot of people, as well as the co-captain, thus they have become very protective of those who are willing to open their arms, and in this case, people have.
Ushijima Wakatoshi is the CAPTAIN of this team, and the person in charge of those on the front lines when enemies attack.
The other two people on the front lines are Tendou Satori and Semi Eita.
Everyone else is in charge of making sure that the other branches are able to make it out safely.
When attacks do occur on the Fly High mafia system, SHIRATORIZAWA joins forces with the branch of Fukurodani to insure that there are as few casualties on their side as there can possibly be.
The members of the SHIRATORIZAWA branch have visited the Karasuno branch many times as a result of their defense, and have become aquatinted quite well with said branch.
--------- FUKURODANI: Fukurodani is in charge of the actual violence. They are to carry out the gunfights and such.
Bokuto Kotaro is the CAPTAIN of his team, and the one in charge of leading his comrades through a fight.
His second in command is Akaashi Keiji, who is in charge of making sure that the plan Nekoma laid out is followed. He keeps everyone’s head on, which is important considering Bokuto more often than not, can get sidetracked by “side quests” that he finds, could also possibly be important.
Konoha Shūichi is in charge of taking those “side quests” Bokuto found, and getting them back to HQ, so that the other branches can determine if it is worth another round of risking their troops lives for or not.
Lastly, Washio Tatsuki is in charge of leading rookies that are part of the Fukurodani team to the end goal. As their senior, he takes it very seriously, and has ended up staying with the Karasuno branch more than enough times because he’s saving one of his kohai’s lives.
--------- INARIZAKI: They are the sneaky ones. They carry out spy missions, whenever Fukurodani is to exhausted, or Nekoma deems that a spy mission is necessary.
Kita Shinsuke is the main spy, and is the one who is more often than not sent out into the field (CAPTAIN).
The second option is Kita is unable to go is Suna Rintaro.
The Miya twins are actors. They infiltrate other systems by going out in pure light and not hiding at all in the slightest, as opposed to the others. Miya Osamu is the main twin who gets sent on missions, as his brother Miya Atsumu has a tendency to lose his temper quite often, and this has nearly cost the mission multiple times.
However, no matter what twin is out in the field, they are always accompanied by Ojiro Aran. After joining the Fly High mafia, he has been shown to be one of the only people who is able to calm Atsumu down, so he’s a very valuable asset.
Everybody else in the Inarizaki branch is in charge of assisting the Fukurodani branch on their missions when needed, which is more likely that they will be than not.
--------- KARASUNO: In charge of medical care. They have very welcoming and caring ppl on their team, so making sure others wounds are taken care of is easy.
Daichi Sawamura (CAPTAIN) and Kiyoko Shimizu head doctor, and Sugawara Koushi is his main assistant.
Asahi Azumane, Yamaguchi Tadashi, and Yachi Hitoka are in charge of moral support and making sure that the patient is fully healed.
Tanaka Ryuunosuke and the other second years are in charge of getting supplies.
Nishinoya Yu and Hinata Shoyo are in charge of getting the people who are injured into the medical room, to have their wounds examined.
Tsukkishima Kei is in charge of research do better understand poisons or other things akin to that that could possibly be used on everyone in the entire system.
KAGEYAMA TOBIO: The newest addition to the Karasuno branch. He has a lot of information on him, this has gotten an entire separate introduction. Kageyama Tobio was originally supposed to be part of the Aoba Josai branch, however, in training, lost the trust of many people. Claimed to be to hostile towards his own allies, which made him suspicious to those around him as to whether or not he was a spy. A jury was held, and Kageyama was almost kicked out of the Fly High Mafia network entirely, but Daichi Sawamura, CAPTAIN of the Karasuno branch offered to take him in. Without any experience in the medical field, Kageyama has yet to learn quite a few things, but is steadily making progress. They have decided that he will work along side Nishinoya Yu and Hinata Shoyo when it comes to getting those who need medical care into the infirmary.
--------- NEKOMA: The strategists. If a trade doesn’t go smoothly, or someone gets kidnapped, obviously the mafia will want to take action to correct the errors. This is where nekoma comes in. Sly like cats, they come up with plans to accomplish the goal at hand to minimize casualties of their own. They could literally care less about the other side.
Kuroo Tetsuro is the CAPTAIN of the team, and the main planner, and Kai Nobuyuki and Yaku Morisuke is his second and third in command.
Kenma Kozume is in charge of hacking things. He hacks into the opponents networks, radio conferences, security camera footage, etc., to make sure that everything is clear for a plan to work.
Fukunaga Shōhei is in charge of delivering the hacking Kenma does to the higher ups, the CAPTAINS.
Haiba Lev, and his sister Haiba Alisa were from a different mafia system before coming to the Fly High mafia system, so they are able to provide insight on how other mafia systems may function, as well as getting allies to help from their previous mafia system, if said system is willing to assist.
Everybody else in charge of finding flaws or loopholes in the plan, and trying to make it as foolproof as they possibly can.
--------- CAPTAINS: Captains are versatile. They can switch branches to assist others. For example, if need be, Bokuto Kotaro of Fukurodani can be placed on the front lines along side Ushijima Wakatoshi, Eita Semi, and Tendou Satori for assistance against enemies. Kuroo Tetsuro can also come assist Karasuno, specifically Tsukkishima Kei, in the medical branch, as he is very intelligent.
--------- BRANCHES: the branches have different abilities and previously shown. However, this doesn’t mean that they are useless in other fields. The Karasuno branch is just as capable of holding themselves high and mighty just like the Fukurodani branch. The Inarizaki branch can very much come up with plans, but it was found that those currently in the Nekoma branch were simply better at doing it.
DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE EACH BRANCH. EACH ONE IS DEADLY.
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The FLY HIGH MAFIA NETWORKING SYSTEM is still in the midst of making a name for themselves, but are steadily reaching the point of being well known.
By reading all the information about the FLY HIGH MAFIA NETWORKING SYSTEM you have begun becoming a part of it.
Are you ready to join?
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gilded-green · 4 years ago
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@persononplanet replied to your post Okay but if you want to know some truly cursed...
I mean it fits a lot with who Yong is. A man who loves torturing and walking over other people that he feels like he can walk over. Tuan’s one of those and Tuan’s letting it happen because he’s not coming up for himself, at all. So he’s the most simple of the directors to bully. Yong wouldn’t dare do it to Long Feng, Shirong (oh yeah definitely bully the man that will brainwash you in the night), If Yong gets too close to Delun, Delun’s going to bore him to death with history,
And Quy...well Quy is just a chill dude no one really seems to mind. But Quy would stand up for himself and he knows how normal relationships should work.
All of which yong does not. 
Tuan, all in all, is the easiest to bully.
Why does yong bully? Well who knows, we certainly dont. But some guesses? Probably a bad childhood wherein he might’ve been abused by his family, leading him to turn bitter and only know how to deal with people in a violent way and with disdain.
It may be insecurity, a fear of people not respecting him or something like that, which he tries to fill by feeling superior than them. Which obviously isnt exactly the right way to solve such isssues but its the only way he knows how to. 
He definitely seems to enjoy it, so it might also be that he has a mental illness that screwed something up inside to the point he does nothing but what he always does, except when he needs to appear all formal and nice. (psychopathic perhaps?) 
All in all, for whatever reason, Yong is an abusive little shit to Tuan because Tuan allows it. Tuan doesn’t stand up for himself, he doesn’t defend himself, doesn’t do anything, because he, just as Caelum pointed out, longs for that brotherly companionship that many Dai Li have with their assigned partner. But he doesn’t.
Plus, he might think that if he just sits back and takes it, it would be less bad than actively pointing out his former partner’s behavior.
It’s definitely an issue of insecurity for Tuan. And we see it all the time in the written works. Tuan’s a Dai Li director, he’s in charge of all the patrols, he’s scary and terrifying to everyone, except the rest of the Directorate. They all don’t take him that seriously and Yong outright bullies him. Tuan’s self esteem and self-assureness must be rock bottom at this point for this situation must’ve been going on for several years now, and that with Yong even longer. 
My conclusion? Tuan deserves some actual care and friendship, someone should put Yong in his place, and I really need to stop pulling a re-education agent and psychologically analyzing people/characters, and get back to the mother’s day present im making. 
thank you all for listening (err reading) to my tedtalk
-the totally not a weirdo re-education agent, ahlyae
OH HI AHLYAE I DIDN’T REALIZE THAT WAS YOU!!!! Thanks for the novel, lol.
Nice analysis! Reeducation would like their hat back.
I would like you to rest assured that there is no dark secret or tragic backstory or anything else in Yong’s background that could possibly be cause for sympathy, however. He is very much just a dick. A solid middle-turned-upper class asshole with a penchant for power trips, who sees human beings as numbers and statistics and capital that only exist as a resource to boost him up. One of those people who, at their core, is fundamentally just kind of a jerk, and instead of allowing basic human decency and their relationships with the people they care about to temper that, turns and goes in the other direction to just become an even bigger jerk. The kind of jerk who doesn’t see why human rights violations are such a big deal.
I mean okay maybe there was something that might’ve set him down this path, but like *gestures at Yong’s everything and also the Dai Li’s shadow police practices in general* we are well past that. A few decades and multiple torture victims past that, really.
Tuan is pretty much just living with it at this point, as he has been for years. I’m very glad that I got That Time Tuan Got Plastered published; in GG Tuan was comic relief and I appreciated him for it, but in TTTGP I got to show how he’s competent and also overwhelmed. Dude needs a vacation or ten and also a friendship detox but idk when that’s gonna happen for him.
Really is a shame auspisticism isn’t a thing in this universe. I’d nominate a Reeducation agent for their middle leaf.
.......Maybe someone should lock them in a closet with Shirong, if he’d would be willing to cooperate. Yong is low-key frightened of Shirong. He learned the hard way not to disrespect Shirong.
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translations-by-aiimee · 4 years ago
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Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 5
Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼
Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi
This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5 - Expert
The subsequent calm was something Lin Yan wasn't expecting. The thing seemed to have decided it tortured him enough and nothing else happened the rest of the night. Lin Yan changed back into his clothes and unplugged his computer. Even though he knew that that probably wouldn't do anything, the screen actually powered off and didn't come back on at all in the night.
Perhaps a new storm was brewing in the silence, but Lin Yan was too exhausted to worry about it. The alcohol that was left in his system worked as a great tranquillizer, and he rolled over and fell asleep.
While he was deep in sleep, something cold pressed itself on his lips again, but Lin Yan was too much a heavy sleeper to realize it.
When he woke up, the entire room was clean. All the red paint had disappeared, the light gray printed wallpaper and the screen wall painted by the students of the Academy of Fine Arts were intact, and the glass was spotless. There was no other evidence to prove that the absurdity of last night had ever happened except for the shameful traces of liquid on Lin Yan's body and clothes. He took a bath and threw the red clothes into the washbowl. Compared with the power of the invisible thing, he was clearly at a disadvantage. Instead of running around without a plan, it was better to observe what happens as things unravel.
After he finished packing things up, Lin Yan took out his phone and texted Yin Zhou about the meeting place. Unexpectedly, he got a reply almost instantly: See you at the school gate in half an hour.
Lin Yan looked at himself in the mirror. Within just two nights, he looked like he had been doing drugs for years, he had a scruffy stubble growing, and his eyes were red. The mint scent of his shaving foam made Lin Yan feel for the first time that his typically monotonous life was actually so much more beautiful than that. The blade was thin and sharp. Just one long stroke across his neck and there would be nothing left.
Humans were such fragile creatures.
"Shit. . ." Lin Yan hissed, sighing at his unfortunate luck and put his fingers under the water. His hand had slipped and he sliced his fingertip on the blade, red blood seeping out. Lin Yan wrapped a bandaid around his finger, leaning against the wall and pondering about how unlucky it was to feel the pain.
He didn't know what kind of dye was used on the funeral clothes, but it had bled dramatically in the water. After a while, the whole basin of water had been dyed red. Lin Yan glanced at it in disgust as he left and slammed the door shut.
At 8 o'clock, Lin Yan saw Yin Zhou holding a Scallion pancake and some fruit in front of the school gate.
The two of them regretted trying to drive. The roads were clogged with morning rush hour traffic to the point that they couldn't even see the end of the lines of cars. What genius designed this kind of urban roundabout? Five ring roads surrounded the main road and they were forced to convene together every morning and night.
Lin Yan and Yin Zhou were nearing the third ring road and they still didn't have any temper, so all they could do was turn on the radio and eat the breakfast that Yin Zhou brought.
"A 13-year-old boy from a remote village in Sichuan was found hanged at home wearing a red coat. The locals suspected it was most likely cult-related. It is reported that the boy's time of birth and time of death are both extremely negative times and very suitable for. . ."
Lin Yan snapped the radio off.
It seemed that everything in the world had been messed up overnight. Even this kind of unreliable news could be relayed to the public.
Yin Zhou didn't care. He swallowed the last bite of his pancake and hiccuped. He said with satisfaction: "I spent the rest of the night in the library. I was starving and I couldn't buy anything. It's great to feel full."
"There was no exam recently, what were you doing at the library?"
"I was studying the enemy's intelligence. This enemy works in the dark. Can we defeat it if we understand how it operates? What do you think, buddy?"
Lin Yan turned his face to look at the crowded traffic outside the window. He stayed silent for a while before he said softly, "Do you really believe that there are ghosts in this world? I feel like something is wrong with me. Maybe I should see a psychiatrist first."
Yin Zhou's eyes widened in surprise: "Come on, even if something's up with you, I'm totally normal, yet we both saw those clothes yesterday."
". . . At your house the day before yesterday, I was the only one who thought it was cold, and I was the only one who could feel ‘it’ in the house."
Lin Yan sorted out his thoughts and told Yin Zhou his experience of being choked by someone last night.
Lin Yan wasn't expecting it but Yin Zhou exploded after hearing this, and blurted out: "Fuck, that ghost was a rabbit master* during his lifetime?" He scanned Lin Yan's face over and over again: "Little Brother Lin, don't tell me. . . you can be considered a nice-looking guy if you look closely. He's dead and maybe he's lonely and wants to recruit you as his wife."
*because they would kill the rabbit by snapping its neck
"Fuck you. If you aren't going to be serious, get out of my car and leave. Don't forget to burn two boxes of condoms for me when I croak." Lin Yan said quietly. The car behind him honked its horn twice, and Lin Yan realized that while he was talking, a 5-6 metre gap had cleared in front of him. He hurriedly followed the line of traffic.
"Furthermore, in the middle of the night, I obviously saw that the whole house was covered with red paint, but in the morning there was nothing. It was as if I had been dreaming."
Yin Zhou dragged the backpack out of the back seat and hugged it in his arms. He said, "Hey, let me show you the results of my brother's research." As he talked, he opened his bag and took out a dozen crumpled papers from it and spread them out on his knees. He flattened them with his hands and started going over them from top to bottom.
"You can't take care of shit. I feel uncomfortable just looking at those."
"See, the attributes of a wife. This ghost saw it perfectly."
A grass mud horse roared and ran across Lin Yan's heart.
Sure enough, these geeks are something else.
"Listen carefully." Yin Zhou pushed up his glasses with his long fingers: "There are generally two modern interpretations of ghosts. The first is due to the discovery of dark matter. You know the law of conservation of energy?"
". . . Go on." Lin Yan gave him a blank look.
"The universe expands at a certain rate every year. If the law of conservation of energy goes as normal, where does the energy that supports the expansion of the universe come from? According to this question, modern physics puts forward the concept of dark matter and dark energy. It does not generate electromagnetic waves, cannot be sensed, and cannot be measured. The law of gravity estimates that dark matter and energy account for 96% of the mass of the universe, and the remaining 4% is what humans can now recognize."
"Many unexplainable phenomena are therefore attributed to the results of dark matter, such as meridians in traditional Chinese medicine, the power of the mind, and ghosts. There are many discussions on this field abroad, but it is obviously blocked in China and difficult to find." Yin Zhou spread out his hands.
Lin Yan nodded. This was a bit like a science fiction novel he had read once.
"And the second one?"
"The second type is attributed to electromagnetic waves. The environment in which the deceased died is not conducive to electromagnetic wave attenuation. The powerful thoughts it had before death form a unique energy field. If a person's own frequency is similar to it, it will resonate when they come into contact. The waveform of the original ghost is greatly strengthened so then the two can sense each other."
Lin Yan was stunned: "You mean I. . . resonate with the ghost?"
Yin Zhou said indifferently that it was possible. He turned and smiled mysteriously: "Do you know how to explain love at first sight using electromagnetic fields?"
Lin Yan's heart stuttered.
"It's just resonating. It's the same with both men and women."
Yin Zhou sighed: "I don't want to fall in love for a while. It's boring, it's like a ghost."
The cars finally started moving again, and they finally got off the third road ring after being stuck for three hours. Lin Yan turned on the navigation and stepped on the accelerator to hurry towards the destination.
He always thinks that love was just like a ghost; he didn't believe in either. He only understood the panic and anxiety he felt when he encountered it, but he has never imagined that ghosts were also like love, triggered by a specific reason in a specific environment and dragged forcibly into the abyss, unable to escape.
"Have you been in touch with anything special recently, or have you been to anywhere special?"
Lin Yan thought about it for a moment and shook his head: "No. Every day I'm in the study room, tutor's office, library, home, cafeteria, there's nowhere else. But I have come into a lot of contact with lots of things from several dynasties."
Yin Zhou clumped the pile of information in his hand, and put it into back his backpack despite Lin Yan's contemptuous eyes, and clicked the buckle shut.
"Impossible. The electromagnetic waves would have decayed early in a small object, even if the Maoshan technique was used."
A thought suddenly flashed through Lin Yan's mind.
"There was this one place. . .Last month, my old man arranged an internship position for me on an archaeological team. It was a tomb with small specifications. I was there for less than a week."
Yin Zhou's eyes lit up all of a sudden: "There's this show, we should wait and check it. . . what the fuck!"
Lin Yan slammed on the brakes. Yin Zhou's head slammed into the windshield with a bang, and he wailed in pain.
"What are you doing?! Braking like that is going to kill you. What if we got rear-ended?!"
Lin Yan looked at the empty windshield in shock. He pulled the car over and, when he turned to Yin Zhou, his face changed.
"You. . . didn't see that just now?"
"What!" Yin Zhou took off the glasses that had been knocked off-kilter, trying to push them into their original spot, and couldn't help complaining in grief.
"There was a hand. . . stretching down from the roof of the car."
Yin Zhou was stunned and looked up at the window glass cautiously. A truck came up from behind, went around their car and drove on.
Lin Yan was too scared to speak for a while. He recalled the stiff white hand that had slapped on the windshield from the roof of the car just now, but it disappeared in a blink of an eye. There were speeding trucks or tankers everywhere on the sixth ring road. He opened his mouth and looked at Yin Zhou. The other party understood his thoughts immediately. Yin Zhou took a breath and hesitated: "Then this thing. . . it wants a human life."
Lin Yan shook his head. He always felt that there was some motive behind everything that had happened, but he couldn't say it out loud.
They drove out of the city in a blink of an eye. The endless rows of poplar trees and the green border fields in the suburbs relaxed the tension of the two people in the car a lot. Lin Yan rolled down the car window, and the car air mixed with the fragrance of flowers and plants that poured in. Inside the car, the stuffy scent of the pancakes was blown away.
After the twist and turns the GPS took them on, the car turned onto a rugged path paved with stones. The surrounding buildings were replaced with independent bungalows and small farmyards. A yellow dog squatted on the steps and stretched its neck. Some hens gathered in groups lazily together. Every now and again, they passed by a white goose on the side of the road. Lin Yan slowed down and stared at the map displayed on the GPS. He glanced at Yin Zhou distrustfully.
"If I keep going, I'll have to turn around to go back to the village. Did your mother send us to a reclusive expert?"
Yin Zhou leaned over to study the map, then turned his head in confusion and looked out the window. He happened to pass by a house, a yellow mud bungalow, with a faded couplet on the door. The old man in front of it only lost two front teeth, and he was leaning back to watch the excitement. . Yin Zhou scratched his scalp suspiciously: "The address my mother gave is at the end of the village, and she said it was amazing. Let me buy some tributes to bring with me. I can't do it alone."
So Lin Yan stopped the car when passing by the market, and bought two gifts according to Yin Zhou's suggestion. . . that bastard.
"Are you sure about all this?" Lin Yan looked embarrassedly left and right, carrying a live turtle in one hand and walking back, Yin Zhou happily pointed at the turtle's head and said, "What do you know? , These kinds of psychic masters rely on this stuff to keep up with their lifestyle. Trust me."
Lin Yan threw the two bastards into the trunk, took out a bottle of mineral water and handed it to Yin Zhou. He also opened a bottle for himself and took a few sips.
The country cicadas cried one after another, and the green wheat was headed; it was a wonderful scene of peace and prosperity.
Several children wearing red and green were squatting on the ground playing fan cards not far away. Lin Yan asked Yin Zhou: "What did your mother saw that name of the expert was? I'll ask around."
He couldn't help but imagine a scene of a bamboo hut with a mantle drooping in front of the porch. An old man in white with his hand stroked his beard and smiled slightly. He and Yin Zhou knelt forward on one knee, clasping their fists and begging, "Master, please guide me!"
Yin Zhou took a note from his pocket. He squinted at it, and said perplexedly: "Second Immortal Gu."
Before Lin Yan had enough time to swallow, all the water was spat back out.
"Ahem. . . is that so?"
In a small courtyard in the northeast corner of the village, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou found the legendary Second Immortal Gu’s house. When Lin Yan saw Second Immortal Gu's respectable face from outside the door, the regret in his heart was like torrential rapids. There was an enclave in an empty black room; he didn't know which god was being worshipped. An old woman in blue flower cloth sat cross-legged on the futon with her eyes closed and rests her mind. The red cloth strip that was tied to her forehead was quite imposing.
"This posture rivals some of the best dancers out there!" Yin Zhou pointed at the scene inside and couldn't help muttering softly.
"Come on, this is who your mother mentioned. Be respectful." Lin Yan said embarrassedly.
"What should we do?"
"Let's take a look first. Maybe the real person hasn't shown up."
Lin Yan and Yin Zhou walked through the door. Hearing the movement, the immortal woman lifted her eyelids slightly, and hummed from her nose aimlessly.
"Oh, ahem. . ." Yin Zhou couldn't hold back his grin and quickly concealed it with a cough.
What happened later was a farce. After receiving the turtle and two hundred yuan brought by Lin Yan, the woman suddenly became energetic. She worshipped the gods with incense and poured a bowl of clear water on Lin Yan while muttering words. After turning around Lin Yan more than ten times, she finally opened his eyes sharply. Lin Yan was so frightened by her that his body was shocked. The only thing she did was shout: "Aha! I saw it!"
"There is a little girl standing behind you!"
Lin Yan and Yin Zhou looked at each other, each holding their breaths.
"Oh, this baby girl died terribly. She said that she was locked up and could not be born. She didn't have money to buy clothes, and she didn't have money to pay her way through death. That's why she's gotten involved with you. . ."
"Wait, I'll ask her how to resolve this. . ."
The immortal woman closed her eyes and began to sing. Lin Yan pointed at the door to Yin Zhou and said: "Do you need someone to grease your feet, what are you waiting for?"
After reciting a long list of words, she opened her eyes and saw that there were no longer two other people in the room.
The immortal woman had no choice but to touch the newly collected two hundred yuan and shook her head, muttering that the young people nowadays are really impatient. Then she staggered around to pack her things up.
When she picked up the bastard turtle, she couldn't help but give a long sigh.
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welllpthisishappening · 5 years ago
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On This Night and in This Light (2/3)
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Emma Swan knows she’s pretty good at what she does.
Helping the magically afflicted and affected find jobs in this realm isn’t the most glamorous thing in the world, and, sure, there’s a lot of paperwork, but she figures she’s helping people and that’s the important thing. It’s structured. Calm, even.
Until. It’s always until.
Killian Jones shows up with his stupid smirk and his tendency to lean against the door frame in Emma’s office and his distinct lack of magic. Or knowledge of what they’re really doing at Mills Personnel. Everything kind of goes off the rails after that.
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Rating: Teen Word Count: Just under 7k this time AN: Hey there, internet. Thanks for saying some very nice things about this mess of words, I hope it provides a few minutes of nonsense escapism today. If you haven’t already, and are capable: please, please, please go vote. As safely as you can. And if you need a few more distractions, or want to shout about things varying from the state of the world to how much better Guy Fieri is than anyone else on Food Network, I’m around. Don’t hesitate to shoot me a message. Last chapter of this one coming on Friday. 
Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll || Or start from the top
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“She’s been stuck in a vase for the last century,” Emma explains, shoving the stack of file folders towards Ruby. Who cannot possibly be comfortable balancing on the back legs of the chair like she is, with her feet propped up on Emma’s desk. “Can you sit like a normal person for half a second, please?” Ruby does no such thing. She sticks her tongue out, instead. “So she’s been in a vase. Why should this concern me? That’s not even the worst curse I’ve heard of this week.” “Don’t lie to me like that.” “I’m not,” Ruby says, but that also sounds a bit like a lie and it’s only a matter of time until the chair falls over. “Two days ago, Mary Margaret got some guy who had been stuck in one of the trees in Central Park for like...hundreds of years. That’s multiple centuries, you know.” “I know how time works. This is not a competition.” “Isn’t it, though?” Emma sighs. “What happened to the guy?” “Oh, crazy powerful. Like—magic falling off him in waves, so Mary Margaret wanted to bring Regina in. Y’know, make sure we weren’t sending some evil force out into midtown Manhattan. But turns out he was straight up light magic. And super smart. Apparently being a tree leaves a lot of time to retain most of the known facts of the passing universe.” “Did Regina make him a resume?”
“And then some,” Ruby nods. “Fabricated some transcripts, got letters of rec, the whole nine yards, plus a few more football fields for good measure. Word on the street is he’s a cinch for the new philosophy job at Columbia.” “What street is that, exactly?”
Ruby flips her off. That’s fair. “What are you so worried about with vase lady? Give her a resume, send her on her merry way and be done with it.” “She’s got no real applicable skills for modern capitalism.” “Well, that’s because modern capitalism leaves a lot to be desired,” Ruby reasons. “Anything else? Pros, cons, potential for a girlfriend?” “There’s something wrong with you.” “You make out with the new guy yet?” Heat prickles the back of Emma’s spine. She ignores it. Badly, but an attempt is made. “He’s been here for like a month and a half. New guy is no longer an appropriate moniker.” “Right, right that’s not an answer, though.” “Why do you care?”
“Uh, because you obviously do?” Ruby quips, but it sounds like a challenge and an accurate one at that. If anything, Emma cares too much. “That same street is jam-packed with tourists and interested parties, all of them certain that you and Jones spend your lunch breaks together and have been spotted on more than one occasion, huddled together going over files and names like you’re going to save the human race with minimum-wage jobs.” “This is awfully cynical of you.” “I know! It’s like we’ve switched positions entirely. Although I already would have made out with the new guy, so it seems like we’ve each retained some of our more crucial characteristics.”
The heat moves. Shifts to the base of Emma’s spine and threatens to tug her through her chair, directly into the floor when she can only imagine it will engulf her in a rather small bonfire, fueled solely on her feelings for Killian. Of which there are—
More than she expected. 
It’s that stupid piece of hair. And, like, everything else. Every time he leans against her office door frame, her magic threatens to reach a boiling point. And she’s not sure if the specific glint that appears in his gaze whenever that happens is legitimate or her own wishful thinking but it’s one of the few things Emma refuses to give credence to. 
“It will only end badly.”
Ruby’s eyes bug. “What will, exactly?” “He doesn’t have magic! He—Belle must know, right? She’s been with Scarlet long enough, you’d think he would have mentioned the stoning.” “Phrase that better.” “Shut up,” Emma mumbles. “I just...if Belle knew what this place was, then why would she and Will try to get a job for Killian here? It’s not safe for a normal.” “Oh my God, are you committed to that term? It’s awful. And you’re rehashing old points. I know for a fact you told Regina all of this when Jones got hired. If she’s not worried about it, why are you? Still?”
Emma doesn’t have an answer to that question. Or two questions, she supposes. 
At least not reasonable ones. Still, that especially pessimistic part of her brain borne of foster homes with drafty windows and thin blankets, and the deep-rooted certainty that everything was temporary, is quick to stretch out across the rest of her consciousness. 
Like it’s got claws, or something. 
“I just don’t want anything to happen.”
“You mean you don’t want him to freak out,” Ruby amends, only pulling her legs back so she can rest her chin on her bent knees. “Right?” “It’s not totally unreasonable.” “No, it’s not. But it’s also kind of depressing that you think it has to be.” “I don’t—” Emma starts, argument ready and only kind of rehearsed. There’s no chance for any other words, though. Not with footsteps coming towards them, and her door’s never entirely closed, but it still manages to squeak when Killian leans against the frame. 
With his feet crossed at the ankles. 
“Hey,” Emma says, far too breathless to be anything except flirting and Ruby’s lips all but disappear when she pulls them behind her teeth. “You, uh—can I help you?”
Furrowing his brows is also a reasonable response to that particular question, because he really does not deserve the “new guy” moniker anymore, and Emma knows he puts three packages of Splenda in his coffee. 
They go get coffee sometimes. Outside the breakroom. 
“Wasn’t really looking for any help, love,” Killian says, and Ruby doesn’t do anything. Emma will have to thank her for that at some point. “Just wanted to see what you were up to, but uh—” His eyes flit towards Ruby, whose face is still pointed at Emma, and that’s probably for the best since it doesn’t look like she’s taken a breath in the last two minutes. “I can come back later if you’re busy or—” “—No, no,” Emma shouts, at the same time Ruby exhales and spins and Killian’s eyebrows fly into his hairline. 
The whole thing is an unqualified disaster, honestly. 
“I’m not busy. I can—this can wait.” His eyes are definitely getting bluer. And Emma’s magic is very nearly out of control. Digging her heels into her shoes only sort of helps temper the light falling off her ankles. “Who’s the client, though? Anyone interesting?” “Oh, yeah,” Ruby says before Emma can stop her, “hasn’t ever had a job.” “Never?” “Unforeseen obstacles, I guess. Lots of—” She grabs the file, detailing Elsa’s curse and how her sister had been tricked into capturing her and the whole thing is kind of depressing. “Family issues, you could say.” “Huh, well good for them getting back out there, then. Not easy to start from scratch. Any leads on where you’re going to send them?”
Emma shakes her head, yanking the file out of Ruby’s hand and hopefully giving her a paper cut in the process. Not only is she a pessimist, she’s now the villain she wanted to avoid being. “Got a lot of interest in meteorology, I guess. Maybe try and get her an internship at NY1 or something.” “Wow, that’s ambitious.” “Yeah, well, I’m nothing if not the best at job placement.” No smirk. A genuine smile. Emma’s stomach tries to fly out of her mouth. That would be off-putting and might ruin the moment when Killian adds, “I did actually have some other reasons for showing up on your doorstep, Swan.”
“Making out,” Ruby coughs, but it’s not a very good cough and Emma can only be expected to control her magic for so long. 
“Mary Margaret invited me to your game night this weekend,” Killian says. “And I uh—well, I just wanted to see if you were going.” Blinking is not the best response. It’s a God awful one, actually. And the only one Emma is capable of. She’s all too aware of Ruby’s stare, and the blatant hope etched onto Killian’s face, but she can’t do anything except blink and breathe through her mouth and—
“Do you want to share an Uber or something?”
Any hint of nervous energy falls off him. Visibly, almost — leaving Kilian standing in Emma’s office doorway with a smile so wide she’s worried about the state of his face and the longevity of her heart’s ability to keep functioning when it’s beating this quickly. 
“Yeah, yeah, that would be great,” he says. “I...I could meet you at your apartment? I don’t think Belle and Scarlet were invited, but—” “—That’s stupid, and Mary Margaret would never exclude anyone. Tell them to come too.” Realizing what she’s said after the fact is kind of disappointing, but the words are already out there and just as visible as the other emotions and she’s going to blame Mary Margaret for all of this too. “I’m sure David would want to see Will again,” Emma says. “But, uh—if you still want to meet at my apartment, we can go together?” She feels like she’s standing at the edge of something. 
A cliff, or the shoreline. That’s a better analogy, actually. Waves lap at Emma’s toes, comforting in their rhythm, but with the potential to wash everything else away and she’s teetering on the edge of a full-blown spiral complete with metaphorical rip tide when she notices Killian’s head move. He’s nodding, that’s why. 
“Yeah, I’d love that.” “Yeah?” “Yeah,” he repeats. “It’s a date.”
He’s gone before Emma can make sense of the words, or what exactly they’re doing to any of her limbs. And it’s probably wrong to take some perverse pleasure when Ruby’s uproarious laughter turns into a pointed gasp. 
As soon as the chair wobbles underneath her. 
“I don’t have your number, actually.”
Another Friday, and Emma’s about to walk out of the office when she hears footsteps not-quite running, but possibly jogging rather briskly towards her and Killian’s already smiling when she turns around. “Oh,” she says, “uh, yeah I don’t think you do, actually.” “We should fix that, don’t you think?” There are suddenly too many things in her mouth. An expanding tongue and more teeth than the average human, Emma is sure. All of which makes it impossible for her to do anything other than nod slowly and reach her hand out even slower and the spark of something under her skin when Killian’s fingers graze her palm is almost akin to an electric shock. 
Putting in her number without dropping his phone on the floor feels like winning the lottery. 
Emma’s never won the lottery. In any variation. Like, not even a scratch-off ticket. 
“Do you want to get a drink, or something?”
Maybe she’s pushing her luck. Emma’s winning metaphorical lotteries now, so she’s not sure what the protocol is, but he called it a date and her magic is threatening to explode out of her and that all kind of culminates into—
“I’d love that,” Killian nods. Emphatically. Enthusiastically. Some other word that starts with the letter ‘e.’
They don’t make out in the cab, which is only kind of disappointing. 
And Will only laughs for twelve seconds when they walk into his bar. He doesn’t make either one of them pay.  
Of all the things Emma could be, while sitting on her couch waiting for a text message on Saturday night, nervous is absolutely the dumbest. 
Butterflies churn in her stomach, flapping their stupid metaphorical wings until she’s sure they pose a legitimate threat to several of her internal organs, and it’s a miracle she hasn’t started pacing yet. This feels like a line. One she’s not just crossing, but leaping over. 
With a pole vault, or something. 
She’s never been particularly athletic. 
But inviting Killian to game night seems like she’s also inviting him into the rest of her life, and Emma has found that’s exactly what she wants and Elsa had texted her that she’s got an interview with NY1 on Monday morning. So, really, Emma should feel good. At least cautiously optimistic, especially when her hair is cooperating. 
And sure—maybe that’s because she also magic'ed her hair to curl softly at the ends, but that’s neither here nor there, and she really just wants something to go right. She wants this to go right. With Killian. 
She’s started to think words like with in regards to Killian, which is—
The front door buzzer...buzzes. 
Racing to the door, she nearly trips over her own feet before slamming her whole palm into the speaker. “Hi,” she says breathlessly, and she’s fairly certain she can hear the soft hum of Killian’s answering laugh. Might be more cautious optimism, though. 
“Hey love, you ready to go?” She nods before she remembers that Killian is actually several floors beneath her. “Yeah, yeah, lemme just put shoes on and then—is the car down there already?” “Very prompt, yeah,” The butterflies mutate. With more wings than the average breed, and probably just a hint more magical and Emma will never admit to closing her door behind her, blinking exactly once and appearing in the building’s lobby. 
Cutting out the stairs middle man makes sense in the moment. 
Killian doesn’t mention anything about it. Emma’s not sure he can, what with his jaw threatening to find the sidewalk and his chest moving as much as it is and the butterflies declare a decisive victory. “You look incredible, Swan.” She...did not expect that. She’d like to hear it seventy-five more times. 
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself. How come you don’t wear leather jackets at work?” “Trying not to overwhelm the general populace with how good I look in them.” “Ah, yeah, yeah, that’s fair,” Emma laughs, humming her thanks when he opens the car door for her. “Am I not the general populace, then?”
His hand is very close to hers. Enough that if one of them weren’t a goddamn idiot, they could flip their palm and lace their fingers together and it’s that realization that makes Emma do just that. Plus, the leather jacket. 
It’s ridiculous how good he looks in that leather jacket. 
Killian’s lips twitch. He squeezes Emma’s hand. “I don’t think so.” “Good to know,” Emma murmurs, and neither one of them tries to let go until they reach David and Mary Margaret’s apartment. 
In retrospect, maybe they should have come up with some ground rules. 
Because in the fifteen minutes since Emma and Killian walked into David and Mary Margaret’s apartment, it’s become blatantly obvious there’s more going on than meets the eye. It’s a set-up, is what it is, really. 
And not a very good one.
David keeps shooting furtive glances every time Emma shifts, like he’s waiting for her to jump Killian. And ok—so maybe the thought had crossed her mind in the backseat of the Uber, but she’s at least got some morals, and Belle’s inability to communicate nonverbally with Will is almost impressive. Every look is more absurd than the last, Ruby snickering on loop until it sounds like the inevitable soundtrack of the night. 
“Subtlety isn’t really one of your strong suits, is it?” Emma mumbles, leaning against the kitchen counter with a glass of wine in her hand that she knows won’t be strong enough to combat the night in front of her. 
Mary Margaret scrunches her nose. “Is it that obvious?” “Came with flashing neon lights and like...I don’t know, smoke or something.” “Suggests there were also potions involved.”
Eyes darting back towards the couch and the plethora of board games David supposedly “discovered” in the hallway closet, Emma tries desperately to keep her expression neutral and her pulse as calm as possible. Only one of those things works. Maybe, like, half a thing. But Killian doesn’t do much more than meet her gaze with an easy smile and that same sense of self-confidence Emma is starting to covet just a bit, because she’s starting to hope it’s catching.
No such luck yet, but apparently she’s something of a consistently cautiously optimist and she’s back on that alliterative kick again. 
“He’s the one who asked me if I was coming here tonight,” Emma reasons, “which seems kind of silly all things considered and—” “—Or maybe he just wanted to make sure you were going to be here and that’s all it was. Because he likes you.”
Strictly speaking, Emma has had boyfriends. She’s had—well, that’s not important, but there have been things. This is not a thing. She doesn’t want it to be. She wants it to be more than a thing, and something possibly important and she hasn’t been able to shake the way that Zelena woman glared at Regina, but Regina hasn’t brought it up, which makes it absolutely none of Emma’s business and her fingers are glowing. 
Not quite subtle, either. 
Mary Margaret looks victorious.
“Don’t do that,” Emma chides, but that only gets her more teeth with the smile and it’s not as threatening as it should be. Mary Margaret is predisposed not to be threatening. 
Prone to romantic subplot, maybe. But nothing so nefarious as threatening. 
“He doesn’t know anything,” Emma adds. “Like—about me, or Mills, or...any of it. You don’t think that’s a problem?” “To the prospect of your inevitably cute kids?” “Stop talking to Ruby so much.” Mary Margaret scoffs. “As if I have a choice in gossip participation. Although, I have to admit, she’s probably right. At the very least these potential kids would have nice eyes. Like turquoise or something.” More goosebumps appear on Emma’s forearms, which is only kind of lame, but she can also hear David and Killian arguing over who gets to be the thimble in the Monopoly game they’re apparently playing and that rather quickly takes precedent. And she’s momentarily distracted by the sock-covered footsteps moving into the kitchen. 
To the best of Emma’s knowledge, Will Scarlet doesn’t have any magic of his own — was simply cursed in another realm that one time, but it also seems like he’s got a few other talents and one of them is quite clearly eavesdropping. 
He’s also not subtle about it. 
So, that’s a trait all of them share. 
“He talks about you non-stop,” Will says without any preamble, “it’s honestly starting to get annoying. Emma this, Emma that, hair that can reflect the sun and all that pining garbage. Do you seriously put cinnamon in your coffee?” Mary Margaret’s shoulders shake. “Has for as long as I’ve known her.” “You don’t make it sound like the single most attractive thing anyone has ever done, though.” “Yeah, well, I don’t want to make out with Emma.” “Can you believe they haven’t made out yet?” “From what I’ve been told, there’s some sort of pool in the office.” Sliding down the counter and collapsing on the floor is a very interesting prospect all of the sudden. “Where did you hear that from?” Emma demands, but Mary Margaret just mimes zipping her lips shut and it’s the first time she’s been able to keep a secret in her life. “So, you don’t work for Mills,” Will continues, Mary Margaret shaking her head, “but are you…”
That gets him a nod.
“Can talk to animals,” Emma explains softly. “Makes her a favorite amongst the first graders at PS 31, and helps when Ruby’s transformed.” “And Ruby is a—” “Werewolf, yeah.” “Huh, huh, cool. Y’know I knew a couple genies in Wonderland?” Widening her eyes, Mary Margaret looks genuinely interested and Emma cannot believe this is a conversation they’re having so close to the decidedly non-magical guy she’d very much like to make out with. Sooner, rather than later. 
“Swan,” Killian calls from the living room, making her jump several inches, “if you want to pick your piece, you’re going to have to do it now or David is going to try and control everything!”
“I want the hat or I’m not playing,” Emma shouts, and David’s uproar over that is as entertaining as it is expected and it’s nice to realize she isn’t the only one who cheats at this game. 
By Emma’s count, Killian’s got at least two-thousand dollars hidden up his right shirt sleeve. 
He’s good at it, she has to give him credit. Bills disappear without much fanfare, just a quick shift of his wrist and the only tell he has is the tip of his tongue finding the corner of his mouth, but Emma’s also pretty goddamn preoccupied with his mouth and he’s just bankrupt Belle.
“Ah, c’mon,” she groans, “how do you have enough money to build hotels on Marvin Gardens? That should not be possible!” Killian shrugs. “Guess I’m just that much better at the game than you are, or something.” “Or something,” Emma agrees. “Thoughts to add, love?” 
Chaos doesn’t necessarily ensue at the endearment Emma is also starting to covet, but vaguely obvious looks are exchanged without much concern as to who sees them, and Ruby isn’t even trying to hide the phone she’s furiously texting into. 
“None whatsoever,” Emma promises. “Just that you’re a God awful cheater.” “Oh, God awful implies I’m not doing it well.” “And that sounded a hell of a lot like an admission.”
Shaking his head makes that one strand of hair shift again, the hint of a smile playing at the ends of his mouth. “I’ve got nothing to admit. Except that I’m something of a Monopoly master-mind, obviously.” “Move your arm, then.” “Excuse me?” “Does anyone else feel like we shouldn’t be here for this?” Will murmurs, grunting softly when Belle’s elbow collides with his stomach. 
“Move your arm,” Emma repeats slowly. “That hotel empire was built on dirty money, and I can prove it.”
All Killian does is grin. No smirk, no teasing. Just grins straight at Emma with the force of several thousand suns and—
Nothing falls out of his sleeve. 
Her jaw drops, magic fluttering at the back of her brain. “How did you do that?” “A master never reveals his secrets. Bad magical form.” “This is a magic trick, then?” Emma is glad none of them are spies. They’d all suck at it. Wide eyes meet somewhere in the air above her head, and she’s a little worried Ruby’s going to dislocate one of her thumbs with the speed of her typing. She still doesn’t look away from Killian. Can’t come up with a single reason to do anything except stare at him and commit the frankly absurd length of his eyelashes to memory. 
“At least an attempt,” Killian says. “How’s it going?” “Not nearly as well as you think.” Will gags. “Really don’t need to be here for this.” And Emma isn’t sure why it feels like another sign — or maybe an admission she wasn’t entirely expecting, but the words feel as if they filter into the space between her ribs and wrap around her irregularly beating heart and while she’s not much into miracles, she’s got to believe one occurs when her hair stays normal. 
“So,” Ruby says pointedly, “saw that client of yours was back one more time, Jones.”
Any sense of magic disappears. Into the void that’s abruptly appeared in the center of Emma, a growing sense of dread she doesn’t completely understand. 
Killian runs his fingers through his hair. Still no stolen bills. “Was she really?”
“Yuh huh. From what—” Ruby waves her phone. “—Graham said, she showed up in a huff, wanting to see Regina and—” “—She did see Regina,” Emma finishes. Every pair of eyes in that living room turn towards her. “After I nearly ran her over on my way out. That was weeks ago, though. But, uh...she didn’t seem super psyched to be there. Regina definitely knew her.” Seriously, they would all be horrendous spies. Whatever expression David’s face morphs into does nothing to help Emma understand what he’s trying to tell her, or why Ruby was texting Graham, but she’s got her suspicions about the last one and the buzzing between her ears almost makes it hard to hear Killian. 
“She was super specific,” he says, “wanted all these things for a job, but didn’t want to actually work at any of the jobs I could find. Said temping was below her.” “Jeez,” Belle mutters. “A delight.” “One way to put it, for sure. Like Swan said though, that was weeks ago, though. Right when I started.”
Something isn’t adding up. Math’s far from Emma’s favorite subject, but she’s always been fairly good at picking up on lies and deceptions and there is something wrong about Zelena whatever-her-last-name is. 
“Why didn’t you ever say anything about that?” Emma asks, 
Killian grits his teeth. “We weren’t exactly friends at that point. And I already told you I’d been trying to show off when I first got there.” “He’s a very sore loser, in case you haven’t noticed,” Belle adds. 
“I didn’t think I was losing, just—is wanting to do a good job a crime?” “Not on its own,” David answers, “although maybe when it comes with other caveats.”
Ruby’s next make out cough is her worst one yet. The tips of Killian’s ears go pink. 
“Well,” Mary Margaret says, clearly trying to get the conversation away from interfering friends and less-than-pleased customers and back towards cheating at board games, “what should we play next?”
Emma destroys the lot of them at Settlers of Catan. And she only has to steal, like, three resource cards. 
Walking her home is Killian’s idea. 
Emma doesn’t put up much of a fight, but she’d like the record to take note as it were. This was not part of her plan. Neither was getting his jacket. 
But at some point in the middle of Washington Square Park, the wind had started to howl and the leaves had started to swirl around their feet and before she knew it there was leather hanging from her shoulders. Smelling suspiciously like saltwater.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Emma mumbles, even as she tugs the lapels closer. Warmth floods her, as if the jacket’s made of fire, which is only passably insane, but her magic is on overdrive and there’s just enough moonlight to see the way shadows dance across Killian’s face and—
“Well, this is the wooing portion of the evening,” he says, “so it felt timely.” “There’s a wooing portion?” “Disappointing that wasn’t more obvious. You did call it a date.” “You called it a date,” Emma amends, “and a group one, really. Which I never thought counted.”
Slowing down is also not part of her plan. Still, her feet drag and her fingers flicker at her side, waiting for a moment she isn’t sure will arrive because the moment also involves hand holding and she’s standing on Killian’s left side. 
“What’s the best date you’ve ever been on?” Stopping entirely is probably wrong. It’s closing in on midnight, and Emma’s had her fair share of wine, which might also explain the fluttering fingers. That’s an excuse. She knows why it’s happening and she knows what she wants and—
“I don’t know that I have one, really,” she admits. “Maybe once. I, um—well, the guy I’d been...dating’s not really the right term. That’s not important. Just that we broke into this closed carnival. Brought hot chocolate with us, and turned on some of the lights so we could sit on the swing ride. Talked for hours.” “Doesn’t sound that bad.” Emma hums noncommittally. She doesn’t mention the rest — how the lights hadn’t been part of Neal’s plan at all, just a happy accident that was actually a flip of her wrist and burst of power and she could have gotten the ride to work too, but Emma didn’t want to freak him out. 
That would come later, anyway. 
“What about you?” Emma counters. “Best date ever?” “Haven’t been many, if I’m being honest. But, uh—there was one night on the water, a very cheap bottle of champagne, more stars than I knew ever existed in the sky. That might have been the best.” “What happened to the date’e?” “She died,” Killian replies, a distinct lack of emotion in the words. "Car accident and,” his eyes drop to his arm, “everything sort of went to shit after that.” “I’m so sorry.” Scoffing, his inhale is sharp enough to almost be aggressive. “Nothing to apologize for. How’d you meet Mary Margaret, then?”
Emma considers her options. There’s the usual: lie. Completely and utterly, come up with anything except what actually happened and what actually happened was Mary Margaret saw Emma levitating hot dogs off a street cart on a Sunday in December and almost immediately decided to make sure nothing like that happened ever again. But there’s also another option: the half-lie. The hints of truth mixed in with caveats that won’t make Killian run, and Emma’s not sure what she’ll do if he runs. 
From her, specifically. 
She opts for choice number two. And Emma tells him. 
How she trusted Neal, believed he loved her and wanted a future together. Only she omits the part where he realized she was a witch, probably because she told him, and started formulating his escape plan. Which then led to Emma getting arrested for one of his get-rich schemes. She mentions that part. She doesn’t talk about how the magic that usually roars in her during times of emotional upheaval all but disappeared as soon as the cuffs clicked around her wrist, doused out by disappointment and betrayal. 
She recounts Mary Margaret’s mother-hen tendencies, a relationship borne of happenstance that led to a ramshackle family and a sense of belonging and—
“Saturday game nights,” Killian smiles. “Sometimes we play Mario Party and it’s way better than you cheating at Monopoly.” “Certainly sounding like you’re obsessed with my ability to cheat, Swan.” “How’d you do it?” Another head shake. A smile that threatens to brand itself on her goddamn soul, and that’s so melodramatic really the only option Emma has at that point is to press up on her toes, grab the front of Killian’s shirt and kiss him until it’s all either one of them can think about. 
Half a dozen Monopoly bills flutter to the ground. 
Emma has every intention of exclaiming. Of pointing out the lie, as charming as it might be. She really does. Except even the idea of pulling her mouth away from Kilian’s seems like the dumbest thing she could conceivably do, and she’s not an idiot. 
So. 
With one hand curled around the back of his neck, Emma’s fingers push into the tuft of hair at the base of Killian’s head. It gets her a much-appreciated groan, his tongue tracing her lips until she opens her mouth and then his tongue does something else, that might be more impressive magic than whatever they’re capable of. Individually, or otherwise. 
He tilts his head. Changes the angle and deepens the kiss, pulling Emma flush against his chest until their hips bump and she’s the one groaning and possibly even gasping and she wonders if it’s possible for the Earth to fly off its axis. 
Feels that way. 
Breaking apart only leads to them coming back together even faster, neither one of them all that interested in personal space. Killian’s arm circles her waist, fingers inching up her spine as he tries to find some room between the variety of fabric she’s wearing and Emma gasps when he reaches skin. “Going to do absolutely horrible things to my ego,” Killian murmurs, and it’s all Emma can do to hum in what she hopes sounds like approval. 
“You’ll have to give those bills back.” “I think they flew away. Guess Ill just have to buy replacement ones, and deliver them in person at the next game night.” Magic threatens to knock the air from Emma’s lungs. It’ll have to go up against Killian’s ability to kiss, and he’s very good at kissing. Her, specifically. 
“Who won the bet, do you think?” Emma asks, and they’re apparently just communicating in sounds now. “They, uh—apparently there was a kissing pool.” “Oh, I did.” “What?” “I did,” Killian says again, dropping his mouth to drag kisses along the side of Emma’s neck. “Under a false name, naturally. But I had by Sunday and—” “—What time is it? Also do you honestly believe people didn’t realize it was you? You have very memorable handwriting.” “I’m sorry, what?”
Bending back isn’t wholly comfortable, but it’s worth it for the slight pinch between Killian’s eyebrows. “You make these little swoops with your letters, it’s very fancy. People totally knew. Also I think it’s Sunday now, so you might have lost whatever loot you were going to get.” “Did I, though?” “Not if I’m the loot in this situation,” Emma laughs. Laughs. Loud and free and so ridiculously genuine it might be the first time she’s ever laughed like that.
Killian kisses the bridge of her nose. “Never.”
Leaving a trail of clothes from Emma’s door to her shoebox-sized bedroom is absolutely a cliché, but it’s also a cliché that ends with a naked Killian in her bed, so that’s a pretty acceptable victory as far as she’s concerned. 
The whole thing is fast and slow, good and even better, which is a nice change of pace for Emma really. She refuses to spend long on that particularly depressing thought. 
Particularly when Killian’s head falls back onto one of her pillows and the length of his neck makes for a very appealing kissing surface, and he lets that happen for all of thirty-two seconds before he’s flipping Emma and crowding into her space, tracing a path down her body with his mouth that ends with—
Fireworks. Or an explosion. Either one is also pretty cliché and even more wonderful, and Emma doesn’t wake up once after she falls asleep. 
“Ok,” Emma says, “so lemme get this straight, sometimes you turn into a cricket and—” She tries not to grimace. “Help people follow their conscience.”
Archie nods, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “That’s exactly it. Which is why I don’t think I can do telemarketer work.” “Understandable, I guess. Lots of lying in those kinds of things. And I—well, don’t need you to turn into some kind of immoral pill pusher.” “I’d rather we didn’t, if that’s at all possible.” “Let’s see what we can do, then.”
Two hours and what feels like several thousand searches later, Emma’s fairly confident they’ve found Archie Hopper the ideal job doing temp work in one of the psychologist offices on Madison Avenue. “It’s not perfect,” Emma says, not sure why she feels like she has to explain her rationale, “but it’s a step in the right direction and it could lead to a more permanent spot.” “I’m sure it will. Thank you.” “Ah, that’s just my job, it’s—” “—You’re very good at your job,” Archie interrupts, and that can’t be morally correct. Emma takes the compliment anyway. “Is there something you want to talk about, though?”
Lifting her eyebrows, the telltale hint of guilt that lingers in the back of her throat is uncomfortable. “Getting in some extra practice before you start at the office, huh?” Archie’s expression doesn’t change. Not judgmental. Not expectant. Patient. Like he knows. Or can read Emma’s mind. Magic is so overrated, honestly. “I, uh—maybe not to you specifically. Shit is that super offensive?” “No. Who do you want to talk to?” “The guy three offices away.” “Because he—” “—I don’t know, we haven’t really gotten that far. He’s…” Words fail Emma. Clump together in a ball of anxious emotion that doesn’t serve any purpose except to clog her windpipe. The problem is she wants to tell him. Desperately, in fact. Wants to lay all her metaphorical cards on the table, because two weeks after waking up to a decidedly shirtless Killian whose left arm seemed glued to her waist, Emma can’t stop thinking about that morning or the potential for future mornings and there have been more mornings and she might want indefinite mornings and really she’s just a complete disaster. 
“Does he not know what you’re capable of?”
Emma narrows her eyes. “Are you a mind reader too?” “Not quite, more empathetic. So, let’s have your worst.”
“I think—do you think it’s possible for two people to have any sort of future together when they’re not being totally upfront with each other?” “For a time,” Archie concedes. “But you’re always looking over your shoulder, aren’t you? Waiting for the other shoe, and eventually the truth will have out. Might as well be in control of it when you can.” “Kind of depressing.”
He clicks his tongue. “Proactive.”
In the last few weeks, Emma’s come to realize she’s ridiculously attuned to everything Killian does. Part of her wonders if it’s a magic thing, but he doesn’t have magic and she’s not the kind of person Archie thinks she should be. Asking Regina has only crossed her mind a few times. 
She ignores them every time. 
Including right now, with Killian leaning against her door frame. Crossed arms stretch the limits of his shirt’s fabric, the same one that was sitting in one of Emma’s drawers that morning. He’s got a drawer at her apartment. 
She’s got like—four drawers. Sharing them is a big step. 
“Hey love,” Killian says, nodding in Archie’s direction. “When you’ve got a couple minutes you think you could help brainstorm before my three o’clock gets here? Has been out of the country for years, no GED, but claims a vast knowledge of the candy industry.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll be right there.”
Winking is really one of his lesser talents. 
“So,” Archie says eventually, as Emma hands him a card with all the details for his first day, “that’s three offices away. Magic?” “Nope.” “Unexpected.” “Very.” Standing up, the chair squeaks when Archie moves. “Tell him. Soon as you can. Otherwise what’s the point?”
Emma isn’t sure there is one. Or how good advice from a part-time cricket can be. 
What’s the most ridiculous client you’ve ever gotten? 
Are you texting me while you’re working? Yes, and that’s not an answer. 
Because whatever your answer is, I’m fairly positive I just beat it. Competitive weirdo.
Swan. 
Uhhhhhh I once got a guy who was narcoleptic. Fell asleep while we were talking, and that made people not want to hire him. 
Emma leaves out the part where the guy in question was also cursed. It’s not important. Or so she’ll rationalize for the rest of the afternoon. 
She got him a job working retail at a Sleep-More Mattress store, anyway. 
Nope, I still win.
No one is competing, babe. 
Staring at her phone, Emma’s eyes linger on the words she hasn’t said out loud, but typed almost too easily and the three dots pop up on her screen immediately. 
I am. Only job history is in combat. Says she’s good with a sword and capable of defending a variety of important people. So, I’m now open to suggestions as to her future employment options. 
Now it’s starting to sound like you want me to do your job. 
And, Emma thinks, finding a job for what legitimately sounds like some sort of knight protector might be out of the scope of Killian’s capabilities. 
Concede that I’ve won, and then I’ll even let you help me. 
Wow. With an offer like that…
Mulan does actually have more talents than her self-proclaimed skills with a sword. Her sense of direction is unparalleled, and her ability to navigate is even better and she almost sounds excited at the prospect of driving an Uber until Emma can come up with some other idea. 
And losing a competition she didn’t agree to isn’t really so bad. 
Not when Killian’s arm hovers above Emma’s head, her back pressed against his office door and any desire to mumble even more trash talk gets lost in the exact way he kisses her. 
He keeps staying over. Nights spent curled on the couch watching every cooking competition they can find on Hulu, and the general consensus finds that Guy’s Grocery Games is the kind of positive chaos they can both get behind. 
Chopped might be overrated. 
Beat Bobby Flay is the worst. Hands down. 
They pick out recipes to try, and sometimes Emma flutters her fingers and things appear in her cabinet that weren’t there before, but she’s totally rationalized that as a reasonable and very little white lie and she forgets all about it when Killian flicks mashed potatoes at her left cheek. 
Weekends find them wandering the city, hands clasped together and he’s always careful to slide the cinnamon container across the counter of whatever coffee place they inevitably stop at. Crisp wind doesn’t do much to stifle the small inferno constantly blazing in the middle of Emma’s chest, and she doesn’t wear his jacket again, but the small pile of his shirts in her drawer grows and they really are nice to sleep in. 
Comfortable, she says. 
Killian beams. Every single time. And kisses that one spot underneath her ear. 
Life goes on and something starts, and builds, and Emma forgets almost entirely about how often Regina holes herself up in her office with her phone pressed against her ear. Instead, she and Killian talk about clients and help each other with job ideas and somewhere in the realm of one forty-two on the morning of Halloween, Emma realizes with unflagging and absolute certainty that she’s in love. 
With the guy whose arm is still curled around her waist.  
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mandysxmuses · 4 years ago
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1-5, 8-9, 12, 15, 18
lOTS OF ANSWERS UNDER THE CUT <3
1. Which of your muses do you relate to the most?
//gOSH. Knowing my list of muses and knowing how the majority of their lives are terrible and in a lot of cases their behavior as well answering this question in any way could be concerning
But yeah, I definitely find myself relating the most when I write Coda mkdsaldms obviously our social anxieties stem from entirely different reasons, but either way we both have serious problems when it comes to interacting with people. It almost feels like he's a venting character to me, even if I did not create him with that intention. XD I do try to write him as his own person, and obviously he's got his own reasons to act the way he does, but I just find myself relating a little too much every time I write him
2. Which of your muses was an unexpected muse?
Technically, all of them except Armadia, since this was originally a single muse blog for her. XD But to get into specifics, Patroklos was definitely an unexpected muse for me. And one I also ended up unexpectedly enjoying to write.
Like, I genuinely dislike his character in the game. Maybe not necessarily for what the game was going for, but just how things ended up executed. The writing was not perfect and I just couldn't end up liking him even if the game was trying to get me to. XD But I decided to write him despite that and ended up enjoying the character more.
3. Have any of your muses taught you anything in writing them? What?
I think one of the things I've gotten a lot of practice in since writing so many muses on my blog, particularly with the Keeper ones, is just sdldmasld how to make them likeable. And that's likeable in multiple senses, whether it's them being a good enough person for someone to want to befriend but whether they're entertaining enough to be interacted with. I don't mind evil characters by any stretch, they can make for a great story, but if a character crosses the line too far to the point where even writing with them (or writing them yourself) becomes an unpleasant, uncomfortable experience, that's something I want to avoid.
And with the Keeper ones, especially with Jemand, I had to do a lot of working and writing to figure out where the line was. I didn't want him to be completely unlikable, as he's supposed to be one of the story's romantic interests with potential to be a better person -- but again, if you go over that line, the potential to be better isn't going to matter anymore. All that's going to be associated with the character (and rightfully so) is how far they've gone and how they're not going to improve any time soon.
But obviously there are other aspects than morality that would make a character likeable, and that's not the only sense of likeability I want. Armadia is a character who, to me, is almost always irredeemable -- because she chooses to be. She's already sure she's on the right path and it's nearly impossible to convince her otherwise, so through and through she does terrible things and has no remorse, and doesn't feel like she needs to change. I'm not saying it's impossible to give her a redemption, but that's not what I had in mind when putting the character on here.
So I tried focusing on other aspects of the character that I could make enjoyable to write with -- an explosive and almost childish temper, a comically short stature despite her anger with a hidden monstrous form, and the simultaneous power to back her threats up so she doesn't come off as a complete joke (though silly villains can work as well). I think her personality in particular makes her really enjoyable for me to write. She's just so incredibly emotional that she's a joy to write for me.
4. Which muse required the most research for?
I think Carrie required the most research. I was first introduced to the character from the movies, but there are three different movies for Carrie that I'm aware of (not counting the Squeakquel), all of which presenting the story in different ways and even showing different abilities that she might not have in other adaptations. And in the book she was even more powerful, with quite a few abilities either not in all of the movies or only a couple, as well as showing more of her and Margaret's backgrounds. So in the end I was a little picky-and-choosy with Carrie's abilities as well, though I tried to keep her background and personality intact.
5. Do you think your writing style changes for different muses?
Yes, to an extent! Perhaps not the specific style, I don't know, but when I'm writing as a character and trying to go in detail I like to write according to their thought process -- write out what they're thinking into the reply without having to explicitly state they're thinking it.
I think the only character I've really broken from that for is Alice. While of course I try to put thoughts of hers and how she's feeling into the reply, given how her mind makes her perceive the world around her is such a huge part of the games, I also try to show that aspect as well and go really in-depth in how things might change around her and focus more on the world around her.
8. Which of your muses is the most difficult to write?
While I find Coda really entertaining to write (and unfortunately relatable), it's also difficult to write him because of how I made him. He's supposed to be a character who constantly pushes others away and tries to avoid social interaction at all costs, which makes it hard when you're writing with others, since... you know, roleplaying is supposed to be done to have characters interacting with each other ;-;
So it can be hard to come up with ideas for him to meet others, and ways for him to have to run into them, since a lot of the time he's not going to want to do that himself.
9. Which of your muses is the easiest to write?
I'm sure it's quite obvious, but... I write Todd a lot on this blog. XD
He's not necessarily the only character I find easy muse for, but he's definitely one of them. Pretty much every time he's 'required' for an answer or a reply, I already know what he's going to do and how he's going to react. I've been writing him so much at this point that it's pretty much second nature. There are times when I don't have the muse, but in general he's really easy to write.
12. Is there a trope you keep falling for regardless of the muse?
is. is a sad backstory a trope because that happens with basically every character I make or write and I am sorry. if their backstory is not sad I'll just make them sad in the present. that is just how it goes here. I have a sadness stamp and everything.
15. Which muse is the most chill to write?
Verheiler is definitely the muse I go to when I wanna chill. .w. He's a sweetheart and generally avoids angst really well. Generally. Mostly.
The majority of the time he's okay and I feel goodness writing him. <3
18. What one rule applies across all of your muses?
Ships, especially romantic ones, have to be built up to. While in some cases I can understand jumping in from a certain point, to me those kinds of relationships depend so much on what's been built up and how they already interact with each other that I can't jump in from after they're already at a certain point. Unless it's been really discussed, I generally don't do pre-established things.
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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 5 years ago
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Bilbo Baggins x Reader
Bilbo gets sick :(
Throughout your time with the company of Thorin Oakenshield and friends, you've been the epitome of health. Well rested, able to run on little food and water, somehow always pretty clean, not cold all the often, and the works. Basically, you're just a generally very healthy person. And luckily for everyone else, you've got a little experience in medicine.
So when Bilbo suddenly falls sick, you're the perfect person for the job. 
How did he get sick, you ask? Well...
One night during the trip after you went to bathe with Bilbo after everyone else was finished, you found that the water was quite a bit colder than you had been expecting. 
You typically bathed at the same time as the hobbit for three reasons. One, he is ever the gentleman and wonderful conversational partner. Two, he can't stand bathing at the same time as those rambunctious rascals just as much as you. And three, neither of you are allowed to go by yourself since it's not safe so you need a buddy anyways. You can most certainly hold your own in a fight, and you've said as much, but they have very specific customs when it comes to females (being as less than 1/3 of their entire population is actually female, they hold them in very high regard and protect them a bit too much) and Bilbo is basically useless with his sword. 
It was just a natural pair. 
Anyways, the water was especially chilly that evening and though the thought of bathing in such glacial water wasn't appealing in the slightest, going on dirty until the next stream was ever  less  appealing, so you sucked it up and got in anyway. 
You assume Bilbo felt the same way being as he complained a bit in the beginning, but other than a brief moment of displeasure, he showed no other signs of discontent. 
The two of you washed with your backs facing each other as always, and when you were both nice and clean, you got out and dried as much as possible for getting dressed again. Changing into the same dirty clothes does dampen the effects of just washing, but you're grateful that you have the opportunity to wash in the first place. 
When both of you were dressed and on your way back to the others, you noticed poor Bilbo had begun to shiver. You offered to give him your coat, but he only smiled shyly and said, "N-No, I'm quite alright. Thank you."
Yeah, he fuckin' lied. 
The next morning you are disturbed by the sound of someone sneezing less than a foot away from you. Now just one sneeze wouldn't usually bother you, but this mans over here didn't sneeze once, twice, or even thrice. He sneezes 4 times in a row, all consecutively and right next to you.
It jolts you awake, and you turn your head quickly to see who it is when your eyes fall upon poor red-face Bilbo huddled up beneath his blankets. 
You sit up sluggishly and push your blanket to the side, crawling over to his shivering and unwell form to see if he's running a fever or not. When you press the back of your hand to his forehead you recoil quickly at the heat that you feel. He's positively burning up. 
Very quickly you grab your blanket, crumple it up, then place it beneath his head to act as a pillow. After, you drag over your bag and begin to go through it. 
You take out your water skin and rip up one of your extra shirts and soak it with your water, then place the soaked fabric on his head to, hopefully, lower his temperature. 
"Miss Y/N?" Someone calls from behind you, "What are you doing?"
It's still rather dark out, so whoever it is must be the morning watch. 
You turn and see Ori who is sitting on a long by the edge of the big group in the middle. 
"Oh, Ori thank god!" You wave him over, and as soon as he approaches you hand him your now empty waterskin, "I need you to go fill this up right now. Bilbo has a fever, but I've run out of water." 
The young dwarf looks down at Bilbo worriedly then grabs the water holder you gave to him. "I'm on it." He runs off before you can say thank you. 
You turn back to Bilbo and gently pull his blanket off and begin to pull off his velvety red coat. 
The hobbit groans quietly and asks in a tired and weak voice, "What are you doing...?" His eyes open up a bit, but it seems to be quite the chore for him.
He seems to be pretty confused, so you give him a small reassuring smile and explain softly, "You're sick, Bilbo. I'm going to take off some of your layers so your fever doesn't rise, and I'm going to need you to drink lots of water." 
It appears he's too fatigued and unwell to even question what you're telling him, so he just nods and lets his eyes close again. 
With a little help from the blond hobbit, you finally manage to remove his jacket and begin to unbutton the front of his waistcoat. 
"Mahal, Y/N! What do you think you're doing?!" Someone yells next to you suddenly. 
God is everyone going to ask you that?
You glance back and see multiple confused, flustered, and uncomfortable eyes staring at you and Bilbo.
"If I had known I could get   those   kind of services from our healer, then-" 
"You don't want to finish that sentence." You say darkly, looking at the jokester with a gaze so intense and furious that he doesn't even finish his statement.
In an attempt to ignore their obviously impure thoughts, you snap, "If you think I'm trying to taint the honor of your burglar then rest assured that my intentions lay elsewhere!" You finish unbuttoning his waistcoat, then reach up and test the coolness of the rag on his head. "Our hobbit is sick, so either make yourselves useful or sod off and leave us be." Your intention was not to be so harsh, but their implications made your blood boil. 
"Y/N!" You hear Ori yell not too far off, "I've got the water!" 
You wave him over and take the water skin from him appreciatively, "Thank you, sweet boy. You're much more commendable than your companions considering your first reaction was wondering how you could   help  ." You can't help but take a jab at them for their inappropriate behavior and horribly distorted assumptions, but this only makes you like Ori even more.
The young dwarf blushes at your praise and term of endearment but doesn't say anything else.
"Bilbo, my dear I need you to drink some water..." You explain in a soft voice, waiting for his nod of assent to start helping him.
When he does consent to your assistance in helping him drink, you place your hand under his curly blond head and lift it up slowly, lifting the lip of the water skin to his mouth in sync with your other motions.
"Here you go..." You whisper just as softly, hoping not to stir a headache within him. 
He drinks the water in little sips, and when he pulls back you hand the water back off to Ori. "You're a doll, thank you. Where is Oin?" You ask abruptly, scooting forward and shifting to have Bilbo rest his head on your thighs so you can put your blanket to better use. 
"When I walked into camp I saw him running off, saying something about Athelas and, er Kingsfoil." 
"Okay, that's good. Kingsfoil and Athelas are the same thing. A healing plant." At least someone other than yourself and Ori has some sense in this damn company of buffoons. "You've helped me a great deal, Ori, so I give you my sincerest thanks." 
It seems all of your praise and thanks have successfully made his day because when he walks off there is a little hop in his step.
You focus back on the poor suffering hobbit laying in your lap, a sympathetic expression on your face, "I knew I should've given you my coat, you stubborn little hobbit." You reach up and brush his hair out of his face, then take the wet cloth and squeeze it out. Once it's mostly rid of the now warm water, you re-wet it and return it to his still hot forehead.
"I'm sorry..." He mumbles when you recall his denial of your extra layers from last night. "I thought I was fine, really." 
You shake your head, though he can't see it, and can't help the small smile that raises onto your face, "No, no sweetling don't apologize. Twas only a little bit of a rant. Please, just take a rest for me, alright?" 
He nods his head once and relaxes again. 
You run the back of your middle and forefinger down his cheek lightly, feeling slightly guilty that you didn't urge him to bundle up more last night. 
Thorin makes his way over to you eventually and settles next to you. He doesn't say anything at first, so you just ignore him and stay focused on the sick hobbit. 
"They meant not to offend you, Y/N. You know they think very highly of you." You still don't say anything, so he continues, "Of course, they should know better than to mess with such a fierce healer." 
"I know that...," you can tell he's trying to smooth things over, probably because of the rage you exerted when addressing the lot of them, and strangely it kinda works, "I let my anger get the best of me, I'm afraid. I hope I did not hurt anyone else's feelings." 
The dwarf chuckles at your concern for the feelings of the rest of them, "This is why you're a healer, I suppose, as opposed to an enforcer."
You look at him with confusion, not really picking up what he's putting down. "What?" 
"Your forgiving and benign nature never ceases to impress me. Your ethics were challenged while you attempted to help, and even though you lost your temper, you still managed to help our burglar and forgive those fools." He says fools fondly, showing that he doesn't actually mean to insult them, "We are honored to have you with us." 
With that, he stands and leaves you to take care of Bilbo once again. 
"He's right you know." Bilbo's quiet voice comes from below. 
You look down at him and see that his eyes are open and focused on you. "I thought I told you to rest." There is no accusation or annoyance in your voice, only concern and a bit of amusement. 
"Well, yes but I... It's hard to sleep on command I suppose."
His defense is flimsy and not that believable, but you accept it nonetheless. "Alright, alright. Don't worry about it then, you don't have to be asleep to get rest." 
You brush his hair up with your hand again and begin to lightly run your fingers through the shaggy mess of blond curls to get his mind off of the horrible feeling of sickness. 
Bilbo hums appreciatively and lets his eyes slide shut once more, relishing in this pampering (since this trip hasn't left much room for a lavish lifestyle)
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