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barakittens517 · 2 years

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PT. VI: The Revelation

Summary: In which the plot thickens.

Part V: The Reckoning PT VII: The Truth

Words: 2,696

Warnings: minor character death, minor religious themes (ya know, the usual)

Pairing: Morpheus x gender neutral reader

Notes: this took approximately 9000 years to plan/write/agonize over/figure out, but y'all can have a little cliffhanger. as a treat < 3

Tag List: @ponyboys-sunsets , @i-am-not-a-raccoon-anymore

You walk away from the forest along a cobblestone path you hadn’t had time to notice before. It leads towards open fields, dotted with the cottages, cabins, and caves inhabited by dreams and nightmares. The residents seem wary of Morpheus, but they relax a little more at the sight of you next to him.

You wonder if they were ever expecting him to return. It had to have been a rude awakening- pardon the pun- to have their century-long freedom revoked. You know the Dreaming has its purpose, and its existence demands a ruler. A creator. But you can’t help feeling bad for the mix of bitter and defeated expressions that greet the both of you.

Once past the main stretch of homes, you wonder where Morpheus is going. The air weighs heavy with unspoken conversation. You’re both reluctant to bring up what happens next.

You still don’t know what you are.

Morpheus still doesn’t know what to do with you. He doesn’t want to admit that he has no idea what to do with you. Sure, he could uncreate you, but there would be no going back from that- he would have no rough draft to pull from, no blueprint to guide him.

And you are unique to him. Surprisingly feisty. He had grown used to the Corinthian’s outright defiance- most of the inhabitants of the Dreaming avoided him, and it was amusing to have one of them bold enough to speak freely with him (not that he would ever admit it.) But the Corinthian was fueled by spite and hatred, and as angry as you could get, you are not the same.

Something about you is agonizingly familiar to the dream lord- comforting and yet uncomfortable.

He stops for a moment and pulls the book out of his coat, thumbing through the pages. He pauses on the page for Gault. You can make out the original design, some sort of shape-shifting nightmare with unmatched potential for the worst of horrors.

He points towards the newest addition- an iridescent set of wings. “I am still learning,” he says quietly, “Even after all this time.”

You hold your breath, not wanting to ruin the moment with another ill-timed quip. In an uncharacteristic move, he hands you the book. You’re afraid to turn the pages.

“Ms. Jude always said you learn something new every day,” you offer, admiring the shimmering colors of Gault’s improvement. Morpheus considers the phrase for a moment.

“I have had infinite days,” he replies. “And yet, I feel as though I know nothing.”

You think back for a moment, to the day Ms. Jude finally tired of your incessant questioning. You had heard her curse your lack of education, and furthermore, your lack of manners. She had thrown up her hands in defeat, and announced,

“The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing,” you quote. “That’s what she told me.” You catch the faintest of smiles on his face before he drops an emotional time bomb.

“What happened to her?” he asks. Your heart doesn’t know whether to drop to the floor with your stomach or burst through your chest in panic.

There’s no way he knows, there’s no way he knows-

“I don’t know,” you lie, shrugging it off as though Ms. Jude was a passing thought and not a gut-wrenching memory.

Morpheus watches you carefully, noticing how the book trembles in your hands. You flip through the pages to hide it.

“Ellis,” he starts, and-

oh god are you going to throw up right now, I swear-

“Pick a dream.”

“W-what?”

He nods towards the book. “Pick a dream that you like.”

You find Fiddler’s Green immediately. “I only ever saw him in person,” you say, “But this looks like heaven. Like, actually.”

The dream lord reaches for the book again and tucks it into his coat, offering you his arm.

“Well, then, we shall pay Fiddler’s Green a visit,” Morpheus decides.

It is a quiet walk to your destination. Morpheus is distracted by his own thoughts, and you by yours.

At what point would you own up to your history? There is not a doubt in your mind that Morpheus would be rid of you in an instant. Verity’s whispers echo in your head endlessly.

There are so many memories that you cannot place. Perhaps they had lied to you- it certainly worked to get a reaction. But if it was the truth…

Your thoughts are interrupted by the dream lord as you reach the grassy hills.

“Fiddler’s Green is one of my best creations,” he announces proudly. Your breath gets caught in your chest at the sight. For as many heavenly views as there are in the waking world, none could hold a candle to Fiddler’s Green.

“What do you do here?” you ask. Morpheus drops his arm and takes a seat beneath a grove of flowering dogwood trees.

“Whatever you would like, little one.”

The nickname rolls off of his tongue before he has the thought to stop it.

A flicker of pride bursts in your chest before you have the thought to quell it.

Morpheus quickly pulls the book from his coat and opens to Gault’s illustration. “There is no harm in taking a moment to relax. I was hoping to catch up on some new ideas, but you are welcome to explore.”

You wrack your brain for a moment- you don’t want to bother the dream lord, but you are dangerously curious about the book in his hands. Sitting so close to him is not an option. Not while your heart is already pounding the way that it is.

You take a moment to look around and notice the thick, curved branches above you. Aha.

“I’m going to climb,” you announce, and Morpheus’ expression breaks into a grin. Your heart flips in your chest. You feel childish and yet giddy, filled with nostalgia, all at the same time. You had taught the Marwood children how to climb the giant pine tree in the back pasture.

You’re standing on the first branch when the memory hits.

“I’m not tall enough!” Eden whines, flapping her little arms in frustration. David is already on the third branch, determined to reach the very top.

“I’ll help you this time,” you say, “but I know you can do it.” You swing her up onto the first branch, her little boots dangling a couple of feet off the ground. “Do you want to climb higher? You have to look for the closest branches first.” You point to the branch just above her head.

She shakes her head. “I’m having fun right here,” she answers. You know she has a fear of heights, ever since her brother had pushed her off the top bunk of their bed.

David is much higher above the both of you. “Be careful!” you warn.

He is not the listening type, even at nine years old. You know he has lost all respect for adults since learning of his father’s anger. He hates Saul, and rightly so. And he’s becoming accustomed to ignoring all authority, including you.

You can hear him grumbling, and you frown as a bundle of loose twigs and pine needles rain down from above. Eden is beginning to look nervous again, so you distract her with a game of Concentration.

“Concentration, sixty-four, no repeats, or hesitation, I’ll go first, you go second, category is…” Eden pauses, “colors… Red.”

“Orange.”

“Yellow.”

“Green.”

“Blue!” she shouts.

“Purple,”

“Pink!” She’s giggling now, having thought of her favorite color.

“Black.”

She hesitates. “...Gra-”

Her decision is cut short by the thundering crack of solid wood snapping into pieces. Eden’s eyes are wide as saucers as her brother hits the ground below. There is no yelling, no crying, no screaming.

David is out cold. Lucky to be alive, and yet cursed with what the doctors would later name encephalitis lethargica. He never had the chance to wake up. Eleven months later, Saul demanded the doctors do something, anything, to end David’s pain.

It was a lie. David did not feel any pain. But the family did, and Saul could not stand to watch his wife mourn a child who, by all accounts, should have suffered only a concussion and a handful of cracked ribs.

But what was purgatory for the family became hell for the father.

They dosed little David with a lethal amount of morphine. Eden never spoke again.

You’re standing on a higher branch now, one arm wrapped around the trunk of the tree. Morpheus is fully engrossed in his notes, and doesn’t notice the breath that gets caught in your lungs.

Red- orange- yellow, green- blue- purple, pink- black... gray. Red- orange- yellow, green- blue- purple, pink-black… gray.

The practice of naming colors had become a mantra after you left the Marwoods. You shake your head to clear the thought of Eden’s expression- eyes wide, looking pale as a ghost. You had forgotten the original memory, of that horrific fucking sound.

From your perch above Morpheus, you can only pick out the larger illustrations- his handwriting is too difficult to see. However, the view of Fiddler’s Green from this vantage point is incredible. The sun is setting over the hills, tinting everything in golden hues.

Looking around, your eyes catch the path you arrived on. The cobblestone had ended a while ago, and there wasn’t really a path to Fiddler’s Green- you reached it of your own accord. But now there’s a trail of violent-tinted morning glories that stops right before it reaches the dream lord beneath you.

You swing down from a branch to the side to investigate further. It isn’t until you’re closer that you notice the bell-shaped white flowers that follow your own footsteps to the tree.

They give off a pleasantly sweet scent that would be overpowering if there were any more of them. You reach down to pluck one and stand, twirling the stem in your fingers. You kneel and carefully place it in the dream lord’s book. His brow is furrowed, trying to decipher his own handwriting from so long ago.

“I saw the morning glories, but I’ve never seen these before. What is it?” you ask. The dream lord’s face pales, and you notice he’s been looking over the drafts of a companion. “I-I’ve already seen that one,” you blurt, “I mean, don’t worry. It’s not weird. Not that it would be weird, but- shit, I’m sorry.” You’re flustered, and quickly snatch the flower back from its place on the page.

“My bad,” you mutter, stepping back and flopping down amidst the flower trail. The little flower is wilting in your hand, so you set it back with the morning glories. You can feel Morpheus watching your every move.

It’s unnerving. You keep your eyes low, and pretend to be more interested with the white flowers currently blooming around you. As beautiful as the place is, you wish Fiddler’s Green could appear in human form, to ward off whatever uncomfortable silence was enveloping the place.

Morpheus takes a breath, tucking his book away. Your existence had continually frustrated him- never before had he lacked an answer so completely. And yet, some part of him fostered an inkling of hope. An impossibility, but then-

Morpheus steps closer and kneels besides you, plucking one of the purple flowers from the ground. “Each time I visit, he leaves a trail of morning glories where I’ve been.”

“What do they mean?” you ask.

Morpheus chuckles. “Well, they bloom each morning, and die each evening. That’s why they’re morning glories. Fitting for a dream lord.”

He reaches for one of the little white flowers. You have started braiding them together, creating a little crown of purple and white blooms. It is giving you something to do besides fidget nervously, but your hands are still shaking.

You try to focus on tying knots, but the stems keep snapping just short. Morpheus is twirling one of the little white flowers in his hand.

“Ellis,” he says finally, considering the epithet you introduced yourself with. “Where did you get that name?”

Frustrated, you toss the string of flowers into the morning glories. “I don’t know. It’s the only thing I remember, really. I needed a name anyways, in the real world. Can’t get very far without one.”

Morpheus nods. “Do you know what these are?” He holds up the tiny white bloom. You shake your head. “They’re lilies of the valley.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask.

“There is a very old story about the Christian Jesus. It is said when he died, his mother Mary cried tears that turned to lilies of the valley. They’re meant to represent purity and humility. They’re also very pretty.”

You know he’s waiting for you to say something, some sarcastic remark about what Fiddler’s Green is trying to imply here. But you’re frozen in place. There is no way Fiddler knows what you’ve done. So why would he do something like this?

“You don’t like them?” the dream lord asks gently. He knows something is amiss- you haven’t moved or said a word in minutes. The flower crown is trembling in your hands.

“They’re fine,” you whisper, tears clouding your vision again.

Morpheus is perplexed. He thought this new revelation would lead to the same conclusion he had already arrived at. “Ellis,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

You want to rip up every single flower Fiddler’s Green has placed near you. This is some sick fucking joke, and you’re not laughing.

“You’re right, they are pretty,” you avoid answering, but also fail to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

Morpheus sighs, dropping his arms to his sides. He’s getting frustrated again. As much as he cares, this was not the reaction he had hoped for. “Do you know what Fiddler’s Green means by this?” he asks.

You shake your head. He wants to tell you, to shake you into noticing exactly what he has. But you’re so close to tears, and he has never been very good with strong emotions.

So he sits with you. And waits.

After a few minutes, you’re able to breathe calmly. The tears have stopped, although your eyes are now rimmed in red. You toss the half-finished flower crown to the morning glories and sigh, louder than you meant to. Morpheus tries to pick his moment carefully.

“Ellis,” he says softly, hesitantly, “You have yet to meet my eye. Why?”

You shrug, picking at the grass absent-mindedly. “I can see you just fine, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He shakes his head. “Does the thought of me terrify you that much?”

You laugh, but the sound betrays how nervous you are. “No, it doesn’t. You don’t scare me,” you reply. “Are you supposed to?”

“Well, if the Corinthian didn’t scare you, I’m not sure what will,” he jokes. The sound of your laugh puts some of his anxiety at ease.

Now’s the moment.

“Ellis,” he starts, and then stops.

You turn slightly, enough to see him- how uncharacteristically uncomfortable he looks in his own realm.

“... Yeah?”

The dream lord takes a breath and tries again. “Do you know what Fiddler’s Green would’ve meant by this?” He motions to the little white flowers in front of him.

You bite your lip to keep from snapping at that stupid dream and his stupid flowers. You shake your head no.

“They’re lilies,” Morpheus says, waiting for the realization to hit you. It doesn’t. “Here,” he tries again, pulling his book out of his coat. He flips to a familiar page- the companion.

“I’ve seen it before,” you say, pushing the book away. “I don’t blame you for trying to make a companion. I can’t imagine being alone as long as you have.” The words come out harsher than you’d like.

“I haven’t always been alone,” Morpheus responds, “But that’s not the point.” He places the book in front of you, pointing to the flowers in the column.

Your stomach drops.

They’re lilies.

They’re not quite the same as the ones that grow around you, but you can see Morpheus’ handwriting off to the side.

fleur de lis - elis - ellis ?

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #dream x gn! reader #the corinthian #netflix sandman

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kiefbowl · 2 years

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I wanted to get some more thoughts in about ootp before I moved on with hbp. some of my issues with this book I can't full out deny that they're intentional choices by jkr, bc the book is definitely about Harry's loneliness and isolation, it's really the first real dive into his fraught fate that's been foisted on him since birth. So the length, the drawn out pacing, the priority of exposition over character beats could all well be very intentional. however...I get the sense that maybe some of it isn't. My theory is that the manuscript was longer, and she was asked to make edits. Probably a mix of both intentional writing and some editing woes.

one of the reasons I think this is that Ron seems almost absent from the book. Especially the back-half, it's just so weird. IMO, the best part of these books are Harry, Ron, and Hermione working together, and the second best part of these books are Harry, Ron, and Hermione working through conflicts with each other. Every book is about the 3 of them being unlikely heroes because they are teenagers, and what's more Harry has little choice but Ron and Hermione are simply loyal to him. They could have normal school years but they won't, they've made their choice very young to be a part of Harry's team.

OOTP, Hermione is very proactive. She is the inciting action of almost everything. The DA is her idea, Harry giving a interview is her idea (more on that in a bit), and it's her idea to not rush into danger at the end and her idea how to trick Umbridge. Ron on the other hand is barely part of the main narrative. It almost feels like she's not even that interested in what's going on with Ron's life all that much, which I think is very odd since he is one of the main characters and heroes. And even so, I feel like she sets up something very interesting and then doesn't pay it off, which is that Ron becomes prefect and Harry is very jealous. Harry has a moment of working through his feelings about it at the very beginning of the book, and we see Ron have a few moments early where he's a little out of his element with it, but by mid-way through the book the storyline is dropped. Considering the 3rd book both Harry and Ron have a conflict with Hermione, the 4th book both Harry and Hermione have a conflict with Ron, and this book Harry is set up to be on edge and hard on his friends, it feels like a moment is missing in this book as if this book was supposed to be Ron and Hermione have a conflict with Harry and the tension is set up but we don't actually see the conflict unfold. Ron having a moment where he rises to the occasion of his new prefect role mid-year, and Harry undermining it out of anger and jealousy, seems like the perfect opportunity for this moody book. In fact, it could be a foreshadow of Ron's later conflict in book 7, perhaps he is angry with Harry but comes back to him, not too big to say sorry (which willingness to admit they're wrong is a character flaw they all have but Harry and Hermione have it worse imo. Ron is hot-headed but ultimately willing to admit his wrongs and do what's right).

I do think that Ron's character growth-points are highlighted more frequently and more cringe-y in these books primarily to set up Ron's future failure and then triumph vis-a-vis him abandoning and then returning to his friends. It's my opinion that this camping trip conflict is one of the earliest things JKR had plotted out, and it essentially where she plays out all her themes of the macro story to their full effect within the micro story of the trio (I made a post earlier about this earlier around book 2). It's essentially the climax of the emotional story before the plot is then kicked into high gear and we race to the finish line to final battle. It's not a surprise to me that kids and fandom readers (I don't mean that derisively, I don't think...) might have a hard time liking Ron if they're reading the book at a superficial level of just spending time with characters. I've always liked Ron, and maybe it's because his stupid moments are my stupid moments, and his stupid moments pale in comparison to his moral fiber...but whatever, I'm not going to make a long ass winded essay about why people should like Ron, I just want to make the point that I think JKR knew she had to set up Ron having the ability to leave his friends in a dire situation, because one of the 3 have to leave and come back, and it makes sense it's the wizard not the 2 de fact muggles (Harry and Hermione).

That being said - Ron doesn't have a whole lot to do in this book, and it seems like there's a lot of missed opportunity with Ron becoming prefect and joining the quidditch team and Harry struggling to feel included in his own world. I think it would have been really fun and heartwarming to see Harry go out of his way to be an ass to his friend, and that friend saying no I forgive you I'm your man. Good Harry development, good Ron development, good OOTP story development, good DH foreshadowing...was it once there but got cut? It seems even more bizarre since Dumbledore ends his long-ass exposition chapter where he explains the prophecy to Harry with "btw I didn't make you prefect because you had too much on your plate." It's literally the last line of this linchpin chapter and all I could think was "huh??? what???" Harry hasn't thought about it not ONCE since before the school year started. Dumbledore just told Harry he is the lamb to be slaughtered and then he says "also I should have made you prefect." *cue laugh track* We don't even get Harry's POV about that, all I can imagine him thinking is "okay so?" I could get it if Harry had more conflict about it with Ron (and Hermione), but it's a plot line that just gets dropped. He spends that entire chapter angry about Dumbledore and Sirius and Voldemort and himself and has more than one moment that he doesn't understand how trivial things could ever be important again and then Dumbledore starts crying that he didn't make him a prefect, it just feels like a comedy beat. Like it's referring to something that didn't happen.

I also get the sense that this book was meant to be Ron and Hermione have conflict with Harry to tie in with the conflicts of the previous two books in that Hermione is this very proactive character to get the plot going, and Harry has virtually no thoughts or arguments about any of it what so ever. My biggest beef with this is that Hermione sets up an interview with Harry and Rita Skeeter, and not only refuses to let's him in on this idea, but basically ambushes him to do it. It felt like the bones of a conflict brewing, as if Harry was going to say how could you do this to me and not even ask, but the story just keeps going and we get no insight into how this makes Harry feels as if we just gotta keep this book going going going going move move move move. Hermione is brilliant, and also her character flaws are clearly intended to be that she is sometimes a little too confident, a little foolhardy despite her thinking of herself as very logical, a little too prideful...and there is so much set up for her to be caught in this but it never backfires for her, not truly. She thinks she can just use Harry to get an interview going bc she knows it's a good idea, she thinks she can just use the centaurs to solve her Umbridge problem, simply because these are clever ideas that pop in her head. I love her dearly for it, I think she's a wonderful character, and I think JKR probably meant for this to be explored more at the beginning of the series (and especially in this book with the introduction of Luna Lovegood, who introduces an important epistemological concept regarding proving negatives that Hermione is immediately dismissive of), but I feel as if ultimately these character pain moments were minimized and cut down to make way for exposition.

#hp thoughts

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firemanwhenthefloodsrollback · 2 years

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reasons I have thirsted over every single buffy character at some point in my life (bearing in mind I was 11 when I started watching and 26 now so I’ve been the right age for some characters in the past but nooooot now):

buffy and spike I’m not even going to explain. those two characters, between them, are my bisexuality and my whole romantic identity. separately and together, you have no idea, but particularly together, wow. can’t get into it because this post would be 100k words.

willow - everything in season four where she and Tara were becoming friends and then friends and it was all unspoken and very breathy. dark willow in her military jacket. there weren’t that many moments when I was attracted to willow because I felt deeply that I was willow but there were some.

xander - when I was 11 I felt really bad about buffy turning him down, i felt he deserved better and she should consider him because he was funny. This is something I’ve examined and reconsidered in the last fifteen years.

giles - completely skipped over him as a teen but now, yes. i thought he was like seventy when I was a preteen but I realise the error of my ways. when he rolls his sleeves up.

angel - no one ever kissed me like that in graveyards I’ll tell you that for free.

darla - I stopped writing this post to stare into space and think about Darla’s breathy voice and the fact she woukd definitely kill me.

cordelia - I grew up in britain where there were no cheerleaders and therefore no stereotypical mean cheerleaders making barbed comments standing very close to me. I could have learned some things about myself earlier if I’d considered why that was something I wanted.

jenny - it’s the gently barbed comments about the internet with the flawless 90s hair. I had no teachers like her at the time or since.

oz - I did not give him what he deserved in the show then I started dating someone a lot like him who was just so calm, respectful, good and funny and it opened my eyes to oz. I’ve never read fanfic about oz, he’s not my type on tv, but in the real actual world oz is who I want.

faith - this is tumblr I don’t need to explain.

riley - I did like riley at the beginning of season four particularly! Not so much as a military dude but as a cute TA who has books dropped on his head. Those first few episodes were absolute gold.

anya - anya was portrayed so much as funny rather than sexy on the show but she had so much thirst potential! I don’t think this got converted into reality while I was watching it. I adored anya but more as a friend.

tara - fingers intertwining in hush? falling back on a pillow in a deeply magical way? the last bit of under your spell? anytime spells made tara fall back on a pillow or bed I was there with my urgent little preteen brain.

dawn - as a 12yo I honestly didn’t get why her dressing sexy in Him was that big of a deal because she was about the age of main cast in the first few seasons? I think because at that age she didn’t seem young and powerless to me, she was still older than me and s7 dawn was just very powerful and cool.

robin wood - again not til I rewatched as a grownup but now I have watched as a grownup I am absolutely on board with a passionate education professional with a sense of humour and a dark past. he suffers from being so directly contrasted against spike in first date but in any and all other circumstances, yes to robin wood.

characters I have never thirsted for and my provisional reasons:

the master - not a lot to get on board with here kinda just a priest in an odd outfit with fruit punch mouth.

drusilla - I love her as a character and she is very beautiful but I think she was a bit odd for me? I find her poignant and that interferes with me finding her attractive

harmony - harmony was always standing right next to people I had much stronger feelings for

joyce - I think it’s the hair. even tho I’m probably old enough now to date joyce and it not be creepy (?) the mum hair means she will always be my mum. that’s my mum right there.

most villains? - mayor, adam, glory, caleb. I know some people fancy glory and she is very beautiful but buffy was right there being powerful and blonde.

the trio - this is just not allowed, obviously. I do find tom lenk funny in the post buffy world tho. I’d get lunch with him, but that’s v different to fancying andrew.

all the potentials - eh

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ltleflrt · 3 years

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Hey Carrie! You talked a little the other day about writers' tendency to start a fic too early in the story, and how you see a lot of first scenes that could have been scrapped to improve the story. My question is if you have some tips to recognize while writing that first scene that you are starting too early in the story?

Hello friend!

That's a really good question, and I'll see if I can give an answer that makes sense. I am not a professional, and I'm not educated or trained in this stuff, it's just something that I recognize from years and years and years of voracious reading. And as with all writing advice, I encourage you to take what I'm going to say with a grain of salt and remember that no writing rule is a hard rule, only a guideline.

Also, my advice is going to be pertaining fanfiction, and specifically to AUs. Obviously a published book has an editor with a razor blade going through a manuscript for you, and the problems that bother me in fanfiction crop up in AUs more than Canonverse.

Oh, and every instance of "you" is general, not specific 😜

So I think the main problem that I see is that people are starting with an Info Dump. An Info Dump is not always a bad thing, sometimes it's completely necessary, but it is NOT where you want to start your story. If it absolutely has to be done, it's better to be somewhere in the middle or near the end. When it's something that your characters need to know.

That's an important bit: Do your characters need to know this?

And related to that: Does your audience need to know this for the story to make sense?

And very important follow up: If the answers to the above questions are yes, does the character/audience need to know this RIGHT NOW?

There's a lot of information about your story that YOU need to know. Heck, my notes files are full of sooooooo much stuff that I know about the characters and plot that never reaches the final product.

So when you're reading your first chapter (I say reading, not writing, because sometimes info dumping for your own benefit is good, and then you fix it before you share the story lol), ask yourself those two questions.

So for example:

In an AU where Dean is a tattoo artist, and it's his POV. The story starts with Dean driving to work, and when he gets there he's going to find out that the empty shop next door has been purchased and is going to be a yoga studio. He meets Castiel out front, up on a ladder trying to hang a hand painted sign, and some teens go running buy and knock into the ladder and Dean has to catch Castiel from falling. (Anyone who wants to adopt this idea is welcome to it btw, I would love to read this lol)

The mistake I often see in a first chapter like this is that as Dean is walking to work, there's a whole Info Dump about why he's a tattoo artist instead of a hunter. He'll be ambling along, thinking about his nice little business, and there's info about how his mom died in a fire, and his dad was a jerk, and Dean didn't go to college because he saved his money for Sammy's college fund, and Dean's only passion was art, and Bobby Singer introduced him to a tattoo shop owner who took Dean under his wing, etc.

Question 1, does your character need to know this?: Why is Dean reflecting on his past? Does Castiel need to know this information in order to build a romance with Dean?

Question 2, does your audience need to know this?: Why does this information matter? If Dean's only reflecting on this because you want to make sure your audience knows where the timeline changed and this became an AU, then you're starting too early in your story. Dean doesn't need to know this, and honestly in a lot of cases the reader doesn't need to know this. This is information that should have been left in your notes file.

Question 3, does the character/audience need to know this NOW?: If this information is pertinent to the plot, like maybe there's some trauma there that Castiel might need to know about to develop their relationship, then you don't want to put it HERE, you want to put it in a conversation with Castiel LATER.

If I was writing this AU, I would just start with Dean sipping his coffee, he's kinda tired because reasons, he looks up to see an unusual commotion, and has to drop his coffee and sprint forward to catch Cas. If he's reflecting on anything in this scene, it's going to be whatever made him tired, or how good/bad the coffee is this morning. Since Cas is a new business owner, they can talk about the origins of Dean's business on their first date, because it'll be a relevant response to Castiel talking about the origins of his yoga studio.

And just in general, if Dean's origin story includes a lot of canon elements, like mom dying in a fire, dad being a deadbeat, Sammy being the adorable overachieving Stanford student.... try to hide that info for as long as you can so that the audience is actually curious about it by the time the info might pop up. It's the wild divergences that are more interesting earlier on.

Okay, and then I want to talk about my giant pet peeve for a starting chapter. It's a specific kind of info dump, that often includes the stuff from above, but then goes a step further.

My nemesis, The Daily Grind.

I haven't asked the authors, so I could be wrong about this, but I feel like most of the time when this type of chapter is included in a story it is because the author wants to show the reader that the character's life is boring and meaningless before the plot's inciting incident. I can absolutely see why that might be considered an important detail about the character, but keep in mind if it's boring and meaningless to the character, it's boring and meaningless to your audience.

You know how I said earlier that writing tips should never be hard and fast rules? Well this is in regards to that Show Don't Tell rule, and it's an example of TOO MUCH showing lol

It is possible to do a daily grind in an interesting way, but only if you include a Shake Up right away. And you have to look at the 3 questions a little bit differently.

So for example:

Castiel POV, and he works in an office. His daily routine is to always get up at the same time every day, he goes for his run, he grooms himself, he has his breakfast, he goes to work and talks to Kelly about how Jack's doing in kindergarten for a few minutes before going into his office. Adler comes in to be a prick, Castiel hates him for it, and then he does his reports, has lunch hiding in a corner of the lunch room so that his co-workers will leave him alone, he does more reporting, leaves an hour after his shift technically ends, goes home to a lonely apartment that maybe includes a pet who is the only being that shows him affection, has an unsatisfying dinner of leftover takeout while watching a mindless reality tv show, then he goes to bed.

Ugh.

BORING.

Which, yeah I get it, the point is that his life is boring. But now the story is too, and I've clicked the back button before I can see how exciting it's capable of getting.

Question 1, does your character need to know this?: No. He knows. Poor thing definitely already knows.

Question 2, does your audience need to know this?: Yes, but...

Question 3, does the character/audience need to know this NOW?: Yes, but new question for ya:

Optional Question 4, why does this need to be separate from your plot's inciting incident? The answer to this 4th question is usually that it doesn't.

Chapter 2 of this type of beginning usually shows the shake up of Castiel's day. My advice is to start with the shakeup, and sprinkle in the details of what you would have put into chapter 1 to show the contrast. It's far more interesting to learn how boring Castiel's day is by starting with the shake up.

So, same scenario:

Castiel's alarm doesn't go off for some reason, OH NO HIS ROUTINE IS SHAKEN UP! You're explaining his routine while also stressing him the fuck out because he has to rush, or skip something that he normally needs to do. Action! Interesting! He gets to work late, and has to miss his conversation with Kelly about Jack because she's telling him that Adler's already in his office being a prick because Castiel isn't there waiting for him like he always is. Oh shit, he's pissing off his asshole boss! Conflict! He's so flustered by the shakeups that he misses something on his report, and he gets a call from that new marketing guy Dean Winchester who asks if they can have a meeting about it when Castiel normally takes his lunch. BAM! MEET CUTE OPPORTUNITY! While Castiel is getting all flustered by how pretty Dean is while they talk about TPS reports, he can reflect on how this is both better and worse than hiding from his co-workers in the corner of the lunch room. The rest of the day after that meeting he's thinking about how weird this day is, he still goes home an hour late, he talks to his pet about his weird day when he gets home, and maybe he still eats leftover takeout, but he's not paying attention to the reality tv show because holy shit he wants to count Dean's freckles.

In this example, you're Telling the audience about Castiel's normal routine instead of Showing them. But since it's during a plot heavy chapter, it works!

Lemme see if I can TL:DR this...

As you're reading, ask yourself who needs to know this information, why do they need to know this information, and why is it important for this information to be included early instead of later?

If the answer to any of those questions boils down to "this is backstory" instead of "this kicks off the plot", then you've started too early.

I hope this helps? I'm always nervous about giving writing advice because so much of the time I have no idea what I'm doing, and I'm just feeling around in the dark. And I definitely do not ever want to hurt an author's feelings, because this hobby is so fucking hard, and we're all fragile. Even authors who welcome con-crit with open arms will have a weak point that they're unaware of that might get poked wrong and cause a crack, ya know?

I hope anyone who gets this far who might see their own works reflected in my examples understands that I have a lot of respect for their ability to put their work out into the world, and I want them to keep doing it. We're here to have fun, okay? Okay. I love y'all 💜

#ltleramblings #writer's angst #also i think some of these problems can be solved with a prologue #but that's something i'm literally exploring in my current WIP #so I have no idea if I'm doing it right #and i might be breaking all of my own rules with it lol

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owlbites · 3 years

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Owlboy Headcanons: Otus

(Long post)

Otus loves the rain. He loves listening to the rain and daydreaming about it because it offers a change from his stressful day to day routine.

Otus is a REALLY good cook! Because he’s only got a few friends he’s not out often and can work on his cooking skills when he’s not guarding Vellie. He learned by watching Asio.

Otus is really bad at preening himself, as Asio had never properly showed him how to. He forgot what his parents taught him in the past.

Otus sings (chirps) to himself when he’s alone. Asio always scolds him for doing so as it’s considered impolite.

Otus tends to fantasize about flying in space. Ever since reading about stars and planets in school he’s been obsessed with the idea of flying and exploring among them.

Otus is a bird watcher. He has some books about different birds and where to find them in the area. He likes to chirp at them to get their attention.

When with Geddy, Otus is a goofball. He breaks out of his shell and is very happy and expressive when hanging out with Geddy.

Otus has a lot of scars from training and flying with Asio, as well as from the events of Owlboy. He also has a lot of calluses on his hands from wearing his gauntlets so often.

Otus likes to draw, but isn’t all that great at it. He keeps his little doodles in the back of his bookshelf. He tends to draw when he’s supposed to be studying.

Otus has many journals he writes in as a way to put down his thoughts. He uses the journals as a place to vent, record events of the day, and as a place to finally communicate what’s bouncing around inside of his head. He has over 20 journals from constantly writing in them every day after training.

Otus zones out often, not to disrespect those around him, but because he has a problem focusing. He daydreams to the point where he bothers others.

Otus is actually very strong, but chooses not to hurt monsters because he’s a pacifist. He mostly uses his strength carrying his friends and other items in Owlboy.

Otus loves to read Alphonse’s poetry!

Otus has massive trouble falling asleep. He sometimes has to grab a book to take his mind off of everything and fall asleep.

Otus’ stomach can only handle healthy food, as he’s been eating fruits and vegetables as his main diet. Although he loves cakes and pastries, he easily gets a stomach ache from having a full dessert and usually goes into a sugar crash, embarrassing Asio.

Otus keeps his own tiny garden and takes great care of his scarecrow.

Asio’s cold natured attitude towards Otus for several years along with the absence of his parents leaves Otus touch starved. Even a small pat on the back is a big gesture for Otus and will make his day.

It’s hard for Otus to take compliments. He doesn’t believe a lot of what is said to him.

Otus is extremely stressed about the future of the owls as a species. He believes it’s solely up to him to carry on their legacy due to Asio pushing his agenda on him.

Otus thinks Geddy is the funniest guy in the world! Otus looks up to Geddy as a fun big brother.

Otus somewhat sees Alphonse as the father figure he wishes Asio could be.

Otus can laugh, but due to his muteness he laughs through panting. He’s often bullied for his unique laugh, causing Otus to suppress any laugh or giggle around almost anyone.

Otus has fallen asleep against Alphonse multiple times as Alphonse’s metal becomes quite warm under the sun. Alphonse never disturbs him and allows him to nap.

Otus loves stuffed animals, but keeps them hidden under his bed in fear that Asio will take them away from him believing them to be immature.

Otus has a small window by his bed where Geddy often drops by to talk to him even when he’s grounded.

Otus wishes he could be better friends with Solus.

Phew that was a lot. Let me know if you want to see some of these as little doodles! I’ll be doing more characters soon. (and to be honest I might make more for Otus because I’ve got a lot of ideas for him!) Enjoy! Hoot! 🦉

#owlboy #otus #headcanon #long reads #long post

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tlbodine · 3 years

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Reverse-Outlining Revision Method with Plottr

So in my editing guide, I give a step-by-step method for structural editing that I find really useful, and I wanted to do a visual follow-up to kind of show what that process looks like. I’m using Plottr for this, because I was gifted a copy of the software in exchange for them using my horror-writing beat-sheet as one of the templates, but you could just as easily do this with Scrivener, scrap paper, or any other organizational system you like.

Whether you’re a fellow pantser who struggles with story structure (hi!) or you’re an outliner who needs to make sure your draft matches up to your vision (or the second draft has a good structure), this will work for you!

Step One: Write a one-sentence log-line of the story + jot down the major themes

There’s space for this in Plottr. I’m doing Neverest.

Premise: A woman’s search for her missing husband’s body on Mount Everest sends her into the grip of ancient forces that don’t want her to leave.

Themes: Putting your name on something doesn't make it yours; colonialism and the urge to conquer and codify; relationships as a form of control and change vs understanding

You’ll also want to write a one-page overview summary of the story, similar to what you’d put in a query letter. Here’s mine:

One year ago, Sean Miller -- journalist and mountain climbing enthusiast -- reached the summit of Mt. Everest, and was never seen again. Unable to move on without knowing the truth of what happened, his wife Carrie flies to Nepal to meet with Sean’s best friend and former climbing partner, Tom. They assemble a small crew and begin an expedition up the peak in search of Sean’s body and a better understanding of what might have happened in his final days.

Guided by a travel journal left behind from her husband's expedition, Carrie ventures into the frozen, open-air graveyard of the world's tallest peak. But as Sean’s diary and Carrie’s experiences reveal, climbing the mountain is more than a test of endurance; it’s a battle of wills with an ancient and hostile force protecting the mountain — and the dead do not rest easy at the summit.

Doing this helps you to identify the core elements of your story -- the characters, the conflict, and the stakes. You should be able to answer the questions: who is the main character, what do they want, what’s stopping them, what happens if they succeed/fail.

In this case:

The main character is Carrie, the wife of a journalist who disappeared while summiting Mt. Everest (character)

She wants to find his body and get closure about his death/understand how and why he died (what does she want)

But there are supernatural forces at work that led to his death and now have the same in store for her (conflict/stakes)

Step Two: List out every scene in the book

Plottr is an outlining software, so it makes this step really easy (and conveniently color-codes things for me at the same time!). There are multiple views this can take, but this one screenshots well so I used this one for the example.

Basically what you want to do is write down everything that happens, scene by scene. You can color-code them however you want -- in my case, I have three narrative threads, so I made a timeline for each one. Then I just mapped out all the scenes -- across 24 chapters, each dot is a scene, and you can see that some chapters have multiple scenes and also that the primary and secondary plot alternate chapters.

When you look at it this way, you can tell really clearly that the tertiary plot needs some work -- it’s only there for four scenes in the first third of the story. I either need to cut it completely and incorporate any essential information into the other plots, or I need to expand it.

In this particular case, I decided to expand because 1.) my word count is low, and I’d like to fill in more story and 2.) a big theme I want to explore in the story is what it’s like to love someone who’s deeply passionate about something you don’t understand -- so this tertiary plot is a great place to explore that and fill in more characterization that should add some depth to the primary and secondary stories.

I can also see at a glance that I have a variable number of scenes in each chapter. Sometimes that makes sense (the green ones are diary entries, so it’s logical that one chapter = one entry) but sometimes it hints that those chapters could be a little thin and need more content. If I’m looking to add additional conflict, I should do it in those blue chapters that only have one dot as opposed to the ones with multiple dots!

Step Three: Look at the overall shape and adjust for pacing and genre

Plottr has a bunch of templates pre-loaded into it that make this easy, but you can also just google various different story structures and beat sheets such as Save the Cat or the 3 Act Structure etc. But just look at the overall map of story beats and see how they line up with the outline you’ve made:

This is just a small snapshot view, but you get the idea -- when you look at the scenes side-by-side with the beat sheet, you can see some things. For example, it sure would make more sense if the flashback scene where Carrie decides to embark on this journey got its own chapter and lined up better with the “putting the players in action” plot point rather than being smooshed into the first chapter with the introduction to the world! The fact that I’ve got it smashed into that first chapter is probably a sign that my opening scenes/chapter itself is a bit thin and needs to be fleshed out a little more.

Step Four: Figure out what you need to adjust and make the changes accordingly

So after looking at everything mapped out this way, I’ve got a little list of things I need to do:

Come up with more scenes for that red plotline

Rearrange some things a little bit to better fit the structure I want

Figure out some more blue scenes to fill in the gaps caused by rearranging things and smooth over the pacing/amp up the conflict/alleviate some areas where critique partners hae expressed confusion

I also moved around the categories in Plottr (you can drag-and-drop storylines and chapters) to make it a bit easier to see everything all at once. Basically you can edit the story’s outline first, to save you the confusion of manually moving around whole paragraphs/chapters in your actual story document.

Now, I haven’t finished that step yet for this particular project (there’s a lot of brainstorming to do re: filling in those gaps!) BUT I did want to skip ahead to show you the next step (let’s pretend this is a TV cooking show where the finished pie is pulled right out of the oven).

Step Five: Re-Type everything based on your new scene list

This is a really neat thing about Plottr. If you swap from the “Timeline” view to the “Outline” view, you get these editable text windows where you can type whatever you want, and it’ll keep it organized into chapters and scenes.

So, just pull up your original in one window, and the Plottr screen (or other outlining/drafting device) in another. Dual monitors are great for this but we make due. Now, retype the original document into the new document, making changes as you go to fit the new outline and also cleaning up language and so forth as you go. For example, this time around I’ll be changing Carrie’s blue timeline scenes to present-tense instead of past, so I’ll rewrite them in present tense in the new window.

Once all that is said and done, in Plottr you can export the file directly into Scrivener or Word. (If you’re not using Plottr, you’ll have to figure out for your own self how to transfer the final product into a final document -- I trust you can sort through that). From there you’ve got a fresh clean copy of a second draft all ready to go for the final copy-edit/proofread/polish/formatting and then you’re off to the races!

I hope this was helpful for you! I talk more about editing in my Gumroad guide here: https://tlbodine.gumroad.com/l/jkLpr

If you’d like to receive all of my existing + future guides and support me in making more content like this, consider subscribing to my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/tlbodine

And you can pick up a copy of Plottr here: https://plottr.com/

This post isn’t sponsored or anything, but I did get a free copy of the software from the developer and I think it’s pretty neat. It’s still in beta so new features keep getting added, and the team that makes it are very nice and responsive to feedback.

#writing advice #writing tips #outlining #editing #how to edit #editing advice #writeblr #writing #share to save a writer

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twentiethcenturymoviesandtv · 3 years

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Episode Spotlight: M*A*S*H, Season 1, Episode 17: Sometimes You Hear the Bullet

Frank Burns throws his back out and applies for a Purple Heart. Meanwhile, Hawkeye Pierce meets, and later operates on, an old friend and struggles with the decision of whether or not to send an underaged soldier home.

More than halfway through season 1, M*A*S*H wasn’t exactly killing in the ratings. The show wasn’t quite sure of itself yet, with tons of recurring characters that would end up dropped and other characters not yet added to the main cast. Airing at eight o’clock on Sunday nights, M*A*S*H was, at this stage in the game, a relatively normal sitcom, albeit one with a bit sharper sense of humor.

That all changed with Sometimes You Hear the Bullet.

I’ll show you what I mean.

The episode starts humorously enough: Major Frank Burns throws his back out during a rendezvous with Major Houlihan. He is placed into traction, where he applies for a Purple Heart for his ‘injury’. Meanwhile, Hawkeye is visited by an old friend and kindred irreverent spirit: Corporal Tommy Gillis, a journalist who signed up for the front lines as he writes his book: You Never Hear the Bullet, a book meant to be written from a soldier’s point of view, instead of a reporter’s.

A helicopter full of wounded arrive at the unit, and Gillis returns to his post.

Among the wounded is a young man with a burst appendix, a Private Wendell Petersen, who is very anxious to get back to the front lines. Hawkeye tells him that he has to rest for a few days before returning to his unit. This doesn’t stop Wendell from attempting to steal an army jeep to try to get back, afraid that he was going to be sent home.

After talking with him, Hawkeye figures out the truth: Wendell Petersen is actually Walter Peterson, and he’s not even sixteen years old.

It turns out that Walter posed as his brother, Wendell, and entered the war to impress his girlfriend back home by returning with a medal. He begs Hawkeye to keep his secret, and, after returning him to his bed, Hawkeye agrees.

Shortly, more wounded arrive, and among them is Tommy Gillis. Hawkeye operates on him, but even his best is not enough, and he dies on the operating table after telling Hawkeye that he did hear the bullet. Hawkeye tries to revive him, but Colonel Henry Blake orders him to move on to save another life.

Afterwards, Hawkeye breaks down crying.

“Henry, I know why I’m crying now. Tommy was my friend, and I watched him die, and I’m crying. I’ve watched guys die almost every day. Why didn’t I ever cry for them?”

“Because you’re a doctor.”

Hawkeye asks what that means, and Henry answers with one of the greatest lines in the show’s history.

“I don’t know. If I had the answer, I’d be at the Mayo Clinic. Does this place look like the Mayo Clinic? Look, all I know is what they taught me at command school. There are certain rules about a war. And rule number one is young men die. And rule number two is, doctors can’t change rule number one.”

Right then and there, Hawkeye decides to change rule number one in some small way, and calls the MPs on Private Wendell, really Walter, outing the fact that he’s underage. Walter, outraged, tells Hawkeye that he’ll never forgive Hawkeye for the rest of his life.

Hawkeye replies: “Let’s hope it’s a long and healthy hate.”

In one final scene (one that’s usually cut from syndication), Henry Blake begins to present Frank with his Purple Heart, only to find it replaced with a purple earring, while outside, Hawkeye pins the Purple Heart on Walter to make up for turning him in, sending him home, but home a hero.

The end.

Sometimes You Hear the Bullet is considered one of M*A*S*H’s best episodes for a reason. This is an early episode, one that is regarded as a tone and trend setter for the rest of the series in terms of both storyline balance (one or two serious plotlines, one humorous), and content itself, one of the first episodes to sit down and truly explore the characters within this tragic situation. At this moment, M*A*S*H ceased being a comedy show and became a dramedy, with one of the most memorable moments and exchanges in the show’s long history.

While this episode may seem like a standard half-hour of television, at the time, especially for this show, it was something different. It was no longer a slapstick grittier Hogan’s Heroesque irreverent comedy about soldiers, it was a show about a group of people stuck in the middle of a war, with death all around them. And no matter how good Hawkeye, or any of the doctors, are at their jobs, they’ll never be able to save everyone.

It’s sobering, but it’s a truth that the show had, for the first time, truly explored, and it’s that initial exploration, that glimmer of what this show was going to become, that puts this episode under so much recognition: Sometimes You Hear the Bullet was the warning sign, the first moment that the writers got a handle on the show that would become a classic.

Of course, it has it’s problems.

Not tonal ones, at least, not exactly. Throughout its entire run, M*A*S*H often had two or three plots going, one serious, one humorous. This is a smart strategy: balance out the dark with the light, giving each episode a more even feeling instead of being too much one or the other. Although the show would get darker and more serious as time went on, the writers never abandoned this plan, allowing M*A*S*H to remain a consistent dramedy throughout the show’s run, keeping the audience laughing and crying at the same time.

In the case of Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, the ‘funny’ subplot is obvious: Frank Burns and his Purple Heart. The other two storylines are the serious ones: Hawkeye’s friend, as well as the underaged soldier. However, in most cases, as in this one, these plotlines inevitably intersect, and it’s here that this particular episode might cause a few problems.

I mentioned that the final scene in the episode is typically cut from syndication: the sequence where Frank’s purple heart is stolen and given to the underaged soldier, instead. While this scene may not, at first, seem inherently out of place within the context of the rest of the episode, swinging from comedy to drama within a minute, there are those who believe that this scene unintentionally undermines the rest of the episode, or the main thrust established a few moments earlier.

And those people aren’t exactly wrong.

I certainly agree that the episode would have been stronger had it ended with the soldier’s final interaction with Hawkeye been proclaiming his hatred, only for Hawkeye to soberly respond that he hopes it’s a long and healthy hate. Changing that to this new ending, where Hawkeye sends him home with a medal, seems almost out of character for Hawkeye, taking away some of the sincerity and severity of the message just a moment earlier. The idea that this soldier could bring himself to forgive Hawkeye so soon, before realizing what exactly he’d been saved from, seems a little disingenuous after the weight previously given to this subplot.

In later episodes, it’s possible, even probable that this episode wouldn’t have ended tied in such a neat bow. But that’s one of the things that’s so interesting about this episode.

Sometimes You Hear the Bullet isn’t the first episode of ‘true’ M*A*S*H as it would be remembered in the future, but it is the first episode where M*A*S*H comes into its own themes, looking hard at war, and the toll it takes not only on the soldiers, but on the surgeons, as well. Before this, for the most part, ‘characters’, friends of the cast, did not die on the operating table. Not when Hawkeye could save him.

But I’m going to quote Hawkeye from another season 1 M*A*S*H episode, Yankee Doodle Doctor, as I think that it sums up this the point of this episode pretty well:

“Three hours ago, this man was in a battle. Two hours ago, we operated on him. He’s got a 50-50 chance. We win some, we lose some. That’s what it’s all about. No promises. No guaranteed survival. No saints in surgical garb. Our willingness, our experience, our technique are not enough. Guns, and bombs, and anti-personnel mines have more power to take life than we have to preserve it. Not a very happy ending for a movie. But then, no war is a movie.”

That right there is the point of Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, to the point where the doomed Tommy Gillis even references the film tropes of a young, fresh-faced kid hearing the bullet that kills him. This is the message that Hawkeye must grapple with: he cannot save everyone.

No matter how much he knows, how good he is, he can never save everyone. No guaranteed survival.

It’s sobering, but it’s the truth. And it’s what makes this episode so memorable.

M*A*S*H at this point was still mostly a comedy, a series full of jokes and the occasional serious moment, and it would continue to be so for another few years. But it was this episode, episode seventeen of the first season, that signaled to audiences that this show could be more than that. It could make you laugh, sure, but it could make you cry, and it wasn’t that surprising: this was war.

In short: by itself, is Sometimes You Hear the Bullet one of the greatest episodes of television, or even M*A*S*H, ever written? Maybe. Maybe not. But what it is, without much doubt, is the first sign of maturity in a show that had a lot of growing up to do.

Whether the shift was instantaneous or not, the fact is, Sometimes You Hear the Bullet was a game changer in the show’s history, the first break in format that truly showed audiences what they could expect in the years ahead.

On top of that? It’s just a good episode.

The plot balance is decent, without too much mood-whiplash that could so easily occur in a war dramedy. The characters, decently familiar to audiences by now, all work off of each other just as well as ever, funny, interesting, and heartfelt in turn. It’s an example of early M*A*S*H at it’s best, overshadowing many first season episodes with a level of depth previously mostly unexplored, delivering on every scene and remaining mostly genuine. It’s an engaging episode, full of memorable moments that are thoughtful and earnest, making this episode a standout, a moment in television history, and an unmissable installment for avid watchers of M*A*SH, and television fans in general.

Don’t forget that the comment box is always open for anything from suggestions and discussion ideas to questions and conversations! Thank you guys so much for reading, and I hope to see you guys in the next article.

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rreeaahh · 3 years

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Arms Tonite | draco malfoy

Arms Tonite - for @vogueweasley ‘s writing challenge (inspired by the song)

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader (ravenclaw)

words count: 10k - lyrics in italic

summary; your relationship with draco went from strangers, to lovers, to strangers again - but it broke the barrier between life and death.

warnings: the word “mudblood”; swearing; death eaters; voldemort; death of a character; some fluff; angst; kinda sad; slow burn; blood mention; (that’s all i could think of, please let me know if there are more!)

a/n: im so so so sorry if thats too long, my loves! i got carried away by this idea - i had it in my mind for so so long i used @vogueweasley 's writing challenge as motivation. again, congratulations mere! You're one of the first writers ive followed here, and I'm happy to see your blog growing❤️

“Can I sit there?” you asked softly, embracing the pile of books to your chest. They were all for your Potions’ essay, where you really wanted to excel, only to prove Professor Snape what you were capable of.

Since the first year, Snape turned out to be a walking nightmare for all the students in the entire castle, especially for the ones who hadn’t a green tie around their neck. Being a Ravenclaw, the desire to know more was a normal thing for you: always asking questions and making assumptions only to gain more information made Snape grow a feeling of hatred towards you. He’d externalize that hate by giving you extra work, asking you questions you had no idea to answer, criticizing your skills in front of the class – basically, everything he could do to embarrass yourself and to show your classmates that you weren’t as smart as you wanted to introduce yourself.

“What?” the boy asked in confusion, his fingers squeezing the silver quill he was using to take notes from a booked that seemed to be about Transfiguration – a subject where you were at the top of the class, as Professor McGonagall told you proudly.

“I asked if I could stay here,” you repeated in a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb the rest of the people who were struggling with their work. “All the tables are taken and that’s my spot, usually,” you added when he frowned his brows, scanning the room.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said careless, going back to his piece of parchment. “That’s my spot usually, too, but I haven’t seen you here,” he whispered as you sat down, in front of him.

“I don’t think we share classes, so I think we don’t go to the library at the same time. But maybe it could be our spot from now on.” Your explanation made the blonde boy look away, his cheeks running paler while the skin of his neck, revealed by the crack of his unbottoned shirt, seemed to burn.

The silence fell on you two, the room being filled only with whispers and quills running their ink on the papers. You really had to impress Snape with that essay, you had enough of his comments and ugly looks – he was a great teacher, a very skilled person, but he had a horrible way to be human – that if he could be considered a human being. Deep down you feared Snape – his cold eyes, his fluttering cloak and his loud steps: all of that gave you goosebumps all over your body. Thinking of those you felt your breath tangling up in your throat, and the letters started to dance in front of your eyes. At first, you looked around the room, searching for the Weasley twins, but it wasn’t a prank: it was the stress which took control over your mind, playing tricks and messing with you. Your throat was dry, and every time you tried to swallow your saliva it felt like you had sand in your mouth. Your tablemate seemed to notice your discomfort, because he looked at you under his eyelashes, his right brow raising in confusion or annoyance.

“What are you doing?” he asked, now looking at you without any reservation.

“Hm?” you buzzed, making eye contact with him. You couldn’t figure out if he was surprised by your daring glare, or intimidated or amused – he only kept on looking into your eyes, not revealing any true emotion.

“You keep on swallowing and it looks like you’re drowning or something.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled politely, which made him go back to his work. But when you kept on acting like you couldn’t breathe, he dropped his quill on the table and look like you with frustration. “What?”

“You’re distracting me, obviously,” he rolled his eyes. “Some of us are trying to focus, so keep quiet or leave.”

It was very rude of him – in your opinion – to talk to you, a complete stranger, like he could give you orders; especially when you did nothing wrong.

“Me too,” you sighed, “It’s only that…” But you stopped in the middle of the sentence, reminding that you didn’t know who you were talking to, and he probably didn’t care.

“Only what?” he asked, making you look at him again. His face was blank – relaxed, like he was an emotionless metal can.

“I’m not that good with Potions, so I’m struggling a little bit,” you smiled with shame, not knowing exactly why you felt that way admitting you weren’t good at something.

“We all are struggling,” he said like it wasn’t a big deal, pointing to his Transfiguration book. “Some of us on simple things, I see,” he commented after he took a sight at the books you chose and the big title you wrote on the parchment.

“Then maybe we could help each other,” you proposed, smiling at him in a friendly nature. He didn’t seem to understand your idea, given the frowned brows and half eyes that were starring at you. “I’m good at Transfiguration, the best if we’re to follow McGonagall’s words, so I could help you if you help me with my Potions essay.”

He took a moment to think, looking back and forward to your books and his, to your parchments and his – yours were filled with paragraphs and his were decorated with meaningless drawings. “I only need some notes, it’s not fair to do your whole essay in exchange of some stupid phrases,” he said like you were trying to fool him.

You chuckled and leaned back on your chair. “Yeah, nothing’s free,” you smiled, “Ok, then I’ll write your notes and you’ll write me the main ideas – after that I’ll write it on my own.” He stayed thoughtful and quiet, looking at your face; you tried hard not to run your fingers to your cheek, searching for dirt or anything that had him starring. “Deal?” you asked.

He held out his hand in your direction. “Deal,” was his only response, waiting for you to conclude the pact. And you did – you gently shook his hand, the skin of his palm feeling smooth against your own, like he was using lots of lotion every night before going to bed. But it was a nice feeling, which led a wave of warmth all over your body along with a good premonition about how he’d do your homework and him, in general.

The two of you switched your belongings, the only item that wasn’t switch being the quills – he was holding his like it was the biggest treasure he ever had; and maybe it was, you thought. Maybe it had an emotional story and he wanted to keep the quill only because of the memories it hold, but maybe he was only careful with what belonged to him. You never really had anyone to help you with your work – when you were a child your parents encouraged you to keep on trying by yourself in order to succeed, and you grew up avoiding other’s help, only to prove them that you could do it alone. After a while, in your third year of Hogwarts, you wanted to be helped, but it seemed like your older housemates were too busy and the ones your age were looking for you to help them. So, to be in the library on a Friday afternoon, helped by a boy you never crossed paths with before seemed like a new – and somehow exciting – experience. It was nice to write on the parchments which had their edges and corners filled with something that seemed to be flowers or some kind of plant with curled leaves. You often asked him questions about what you should or shouldn’t write, and depending on his answer you’d write down more explicit notes, as he kept on commenting how many useless things you’ve wrote in your essay by far – but he was funny, telling you that you should give Snape the essay the way it is so maybe you all could be lucky and get rid of the sulky teacher sooner than expected.

After some time, they boy looked at the silver watch on his left wrist and put down the quill. “My study time’s over,” he announced and you also put down the writing instrument, handing him the papers you tried to write as eligible as you could. “That’s all?” he asked and scoffed.

“Actually, I have more things to add, but…” You tried to say, but he already began to gather his things, closing the Transfiguration book and folding the parchments. “We could meet tomorrow, or Sunday,” you proposed and also got up when he did. You tried to make eye contact with him one more time, not paying that much attention to the height difference between you two.

“Again?” he spoke, fulfilling your wish. His eyes were mesmerizing – such a light blue, reminding you of a sunny sky.

“Yeah, I mean, if you want – it would be beneficial for both of us to finish what we started.”

And he thought that way too, because the next day he was already in the same spot of the library, all by himself, trying to decipher the entangled letter you wrote the other day. “Maybe Snape doesn’t like you because of your handwriting,” he said when you sat down, making you smile and chuckle – an action that caused him to have a little smile in the corner of his lips, too. And those smiles continued to grow on your faces, because besides the theoretical information you two changed, there were also a little funny comment slipped through the conversation.

“See you tomorrow?” you asked while gathering your things, because that time you were the one who needed to leave earlier.

“I can’t,” he simply said. “I have to study.”

“Isn’t that the reason we met here today?” you laughed, “To study together?”

“No, we met today to finish our deal – which is pretty much done,” he explained in a plain voice, pointing to the pages in your hand. The structure of the essay was done; you only needed to put it all together and his Transfiguration notes were enough for him to understand better the subject.

“Oh,” you said in a whisper. “Yeah, right, thank you…” you smiled to him, whishing that he’d realize that you two never introduced each other properly, but he only returned the smile in a polite way.

“You’re welcome,” was all he said and went back to his book, trying to put head to head the theory you made and the information from the book.

That Saturday you left the library with a strange feeling of loneliness – he was a stranger, but he helped you concentrate and also helped you with something that – maybe – was the most important opportunity for you to shut Snape’s mouth. That day flew by without you even realizing, but at night you found yourself thinking about the boy who tapped his fingers on the wooden surface anytime he’d search for the right words but couldn’t stand a strange breathing near him, and a pair of iced eyes was present in your dreams, doing nothing more than watching you with all the possible emotions mirroring in them.

“How was your weekend by far, Hermione?” you asked the girl only to break the strange silence between you two. She was looking for a specific book, and it happened to bump into her when you came to the library to continue your work.

It was a few hours after lunch, on a sunny Sunday when most of the students preferred to study or to simply hang out in the courtyards, lying on the grass. It wasn’t very weird that you had to deal with all those stares when you went to the library on such a beautiful day. You weren’t a bookworm or a nerd, but it was a special thing and you really wanted to have it all done by the end of Monday at least, so you wouldn’t be loaded with other things.

“It was… acceptable,” she responded and shrugged, going back to look for that book on the selves. “As acceptable as it could be a weekend spend in the company of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley,” she continued and you laughed. She was the brain of that trio, and it might be stressful to be their friend – but you were pretty sure it wasn’t that horrible since she stayed by their side for so long. “What about you?” she returned the question, giving up on her searching as she couldn’t find the right book.

Hermione followed you to your usual table, situated in a corner of the room, where the rays of sun came through the wide window and lighted all the pages. You sat down, leaving aside the parchments for some moments of chatting with your friend. “It was… fun,” you smiled, “I was here two days in a row doing homework.”

Hermione laughed while flipping the pages gently. “And Ronald says I’m the one who needs to sort out her priorities.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes, “It was fun because I had a study buddy. It was really nice,” the explanation made the girl leave her book and watch you with sudden interest. You knew Hermione wasn’t the type who gossip, so her attention was pure curiosity.

“Who?”

“I don’t really know,” you sighed, a little disappointment in your voice as you looked at your fingers, which were unconsciously tapping on the table. “We never made a proper introduction.”

The Gryffindor girl played with the zipper of her hoodie, looking like he was trying to remember all the persons who ever entered that room. “How was he looking?”

Handsome was the first word you wanted to say, as a joke, but a discarded book landed on your table, right on top of your papers and made you looks at the person whose shadow was covering your face.

“What is she doing at our spot?”

“Malfoy,” Hermione growled with hatred, “I don’t think your father bought the tables in the entire library, too,” she said and made the boy look at her with as much venom as a snake could carry.

So he was Malfoy – the mean boy Hermione would mention from time to time, the one who’d always have a harsh word to tell Ron and the one who despised The Chosen One so much. Your timetable never interfered with their, and you’d usually spend your weekends and breaks with some classmates you were friends with, so you never really crossed path with that Malfoy boy. You knew about him, but you didn’t know him – not until then.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Mudblood; learn to speak only when spoken to,” he said in a mockery tone, his eyes going back to you.

You looked at him, and then at Hermione, who seemed to search in you something you couldn’t actually find. “Well?” he repeated, but there was no response from you.

“What does he mean, Y/N? Your spot?” she asked, her voice cracking at the end.

“He’s… my study buddy,” you spoke and Malfoy raised his brow at the appellative, while Hermione froze.

“I’ll leave you with your study buddy, then,” she whispered to you and left, not before taking the book that was thrown on the table by the Slytherin boy.

Your hand was shaking when you grabbed the quill, going back to finish the essay that you started to properly write last night in your dormitory. “Yeah, take my scrap, you filthy Mudblood,” he commented and watched Hermione leave. He then sat down, in front of you, slightly pushing away from him the chair were your friend sat some seconds ago. “Don’t tell me she’s following you around like a little puppy,” he laughed and you looked at him in confusion.

“She’s my friend,” you simply said.

The confusion was now on Malfoy’s face. “Friend?” he scoffed.

“Don’t you have friends?”

“Plenty,” he responded quickly. “But my friends have my back when I’m in an argument.”

You shrugged and looked down again to your essay. “I’m a neutral person, I’m not picking sides,” you explained. He watched you write without any other interruption, but you were feeling weird to be aware of his presence in your perimeter and being as talkative as a fish. “What are you doing here?” you asked as you wrote your name at the bottom of the last paper. He quickly grabbed them all, smiling at your expression.

“I made some free time to come and read our final product.” He went back to be silent, his blue eyes running from left to right in order to read all the things you wrote more calligraphic, only thinking about his comment and about the nice letters he used to make the summary yesterday. “It’s good,” he said proudly, like it was his own.

“Really?” you asked shyly, not ready to have a criticism on that yet.

“Yes, I see you kept some of my phraseology,” he smiled in a kind way, returning the parchments to you.

“It was really well structured,” you laughed and ran a hand through your hair, blushing when you saw him starring intensely at your face – you really wanted to ask him if there was something on your face.

“It’s perfect, Y/N,” he repeated, “Snape can’t say otherwise. It’s nearly as good as mine are,” he assured you. His response made you laugh loudly, gaining some hissing from Madam Pince; your hands went to your mouth, covering it, and the boy looked at you with amusement.

“Thank you, Malfoy,” you whispered, scared to talk even in a quiet way. You knew how much the librarian hated the loud students, and you really didn’t want to be one of them. To be on her blacklist was something no one really wanted.

“Call me Draco,” he asked and got up. “I have to go, but I’m sure your work will be appreciated tomorrow.”

“It’s for Friday, actually.”

“So you had a week to do it, but you did it right away?” he laughed this time, but he seemed careless at Madam’s Pince hiss.

“What?” you pouted, already annoyed by his laugh. You knew what he was going to say, and it made you somehow ashamed.

“Nothing,” he said to your surprise, “It’s just that… I’ve never seen somebody to be that ambitious when it comes about school.”

“So you don’t make fun of me,” you thought out loud, making him chuckle again.

“Why would I make fun of you for being a determined person?” he asked and you returned his smile, more shyly, and waved him goodbye as you saw him walking away.

It was the last moment when you saw Draco Malfoy – Monday morning you looked for him in the Great Hall at breakfast, lunch, dinner and even after classes – but due to the large amount of students, he was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t put a foot in the library, because you stayed there awhile, doing your homework or reading – more like pretending to do any of those – but he never came. It was like he was swallowed by a big black hole and forgotten by all the people in Hogwarts. Nobody near you mentioned his name, and you didn’t dare to ask Hermione about him after the ‘study buddy’ situation. She said it was all fine between you two, because she knew about your neutral personality. It was simple: you never got into fights yourself or got involved when other people would argue – it was simple that way. You asked her if she was alright after Draco said all those things to her, of course, but when she told you it was alright you didn’t insisted more.

Friday came faster than you had thought and you were quite nervous to hand Snape your essay. All your classmates wished you good luck, even if they were in the exact same situation as you were – not quite the same, actually, because you were the only one asked to stay over class so the Potions Master could have a word with you.

“You wanted to talk to me, Professor?” you asked when the rest of the students left you all alone with Snape, who sat in the front of the class, hands crossed over his chest and a frowned look on his face.

“Obvious,” he spoke in his monotone voice, coming closer to your desk. “What is this, Miss L/N?” he asked, throwing in front of you the essay, all the pages spreading on the table.

“My essay, Sir,” you told him confident, already preparing your speech about how hard you worked on it and how he couldn’t say it was a piece of trash.

“Your essay?” he asked serious, and then he faked a laugh. “I think you mean Mister’s Malfoy essay,” he then handed you another parchment, with Draco’s name on it, neatly written.

You read a few phrases from his work, but there was nothing alike between them aside some expressions – the ones Draco observed you kept from his notes. “I didn’t steal his work, Sir,” you said in a quiet voice, not daring to look him in the eyes. You didn’t need to do that to know how mad he was.

“You didn’t steal it, you copied it.”

“No, I…” but he already made up his mind. He asked you to leave, informing you that you’d get more work to do, along with a week of detention.

Your blood was boiling and you only wanted to scream how much you hated everything: how much you hated Snape, for being a prick, how much you hated yourself, for not being able to do your own homework alone and how much you hated Draco, for ‘helping’ you and then disappearing – but he didn’t disappear, because he was in the end of the corridor, all by himself, his hands on his trousers’ pockets, standing in an elegant posture leaning on the wall. The dark always present on the Dungeons made him look paler that he seemed in the library’s sunrays, but the blue of his eyes was still remembering you of the clear sky in the moment he heard your steps.

“Y/N,” he greeted you from afar, a little smile growing on the corner of his lips. “How was…” but you didn’t give him the occasion to finish his sentence, leaving the dark corridor in a hurry.

It was odd that after a week of thinking only about him, about the blue of his eyes, about the way his voice would seem lighter when he was holding back his laugh, about the cute way he’d smile only a half of joy, you ran away from his presence like he was your worst nightmare when, in fact, he was present in your sweetest dreams.

It was your desire to be alone the one which made you isolate yourself in your room for some good hours, crying and hitting the pillows, throwing them in the walls and then gathering them, only to throw them again. You felt the way Snape’d describe your skills, work or everything you did: trash – you felt like trash. You thought about going to dinner with your housemates when you heard them leaving the Common Room, but you realized that Snape’s face, eating at the teachers’ table would’ve turned your stomach upside down. So you stayed there for another hour, thinking about everything and nothing in particular; you just knew that you were sick of it, sick of everything and you just needed a break.

And that’s what you did: you took a break. You left the dormitory only undressing yourself from the blue robes and went running on the empty corridors. When you left, you weren’t sure where you’d go – but you found yourself in the Astronomy Tower, watching the entire yard and the environs of the castle. The sky was painted in pastel colors, the sun bathing in the red color of the lake. It was beautiful and you wanted nothing than to be the same with all of it.

“I hate it all!” you screamed looking up to the sky, closing your eyes. ��I hate Severus Snape!” you screamed again, opening your eyes and looking down. It was a long, long way to the bottom, where the cobbled paths would wait. “I hate that he managed to make me feel so useless,” now you whispered, tightening the metal balustrade between your palm until they became white. You shook the metal as hard as you could, but it stood still; the effort left you breathless, but you still managed to scream from the bottom of your lungs: “I hate myself!”

You had no idea where that came from – it was the first time you thought that way about you, but it felt very honest. You hated how much pressure you’ve put on your shoulders and now that you were too weak to carry it all, you felt worthless. The only thing you knew was that you were crying, so hard that your sobs didn’t let you hear the steps approaching you in such a hurry. The force of the hand that grabbed your elbow was unexpected, making you stumble on your own legs. The warm feeling immediately invaded your whole body as soon as you fell in a pair of arms, which were holding you hard enough not to fall to the ground.

“What the hell were you doing, Y/N?!” he screamed, the image of his face being blurred because of the tears in your eyes. You blinked a few times and there he was: Draco Malfoy, with a worried look on his face but with the same beautiful blue eyes.

“Draco…” you whispered and grabbed the material of his white shirt, “What are you doing here?” you managed to ask without your voice cracking.

“You didn’t come to dinner, and after the way you walk away from earlier…” he said and became paler, “But what were you doing? Don’t tell me you tried to…”

But you shook your head in negation faster than the words he said. “No, of course not,” you said trying to convince yourself more than him. “I was just… having a moment,” you explained and withdrew from his arms, hugging yourself to calm down.

“What happened, Y/N?” he asked again and touched your shoulders, his hands burning the skin under your uniform shirt.

“Snape said I copied your essay,” you succeed to whisper after a long silence, the tears coming back into your eyes.

His brows went lower, his mouth in a line. “Have you told him that I helped you?”

“No,” you said, now crying again. He wiped away a tear that rolled on your cheek. “He told me to leave before I could say anything, and now I have detention a whole week.”

“Sh, sh, sh,” he hummed as he pulled you back into his arms, one of his hands laying on your back as the other one was caressing your hair. “You don’t need to cry,” he spoke gently and his movements became clumsy as you cried even harder. “I’ll take care of it, Y/N,” he assured you and suddenly, your tears dried up.

“What?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“I… I’ll talk to Snape about it,” he repeated, “It’s not fair to act that way towards you when your essay was so good.”

All the parts of your body were screaming to kiss him only because he was that near to you. But you were too puzzled up to even hear those screams in your head. “You’ll get in trouble too, Draco.”

“No,” he smiled. “Let’s say that Snape owns my father one,” he smiled devilish, and contrary his expectations you smiled like you haven’t been crying until then.

“But why are you doing that?” you laughed and tried not to freak out because he was still holding you.

“So you could own me one later,” he continued to smile even after you hit them slightly in chest. “What? Nothing’s free, remember?”

You bit your cheek, trying to hold back a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“So we have a deal?”

“No,” you said and raised a brow. “We have a deal only if you don’t get yourself in trouble by talking to Snape or, even worst, getting me into a bigger mess. You need to succeed in order to have a deal.”

“That sounds like a deal to me,” he smirked and ran a hand through his blonde hair, which seemed more like gray in the light given by the moon.

“We have a deal, then,” you laughed and tighten up a bit the grip on his shirt.

“Don’t ever stay that close to the edge again,” he asked you and you could see the same feeling of anxiety on his face. You nodded your head in agreement and he hugged you again. “You scared the shit out of me,” he confessed.

It was the first time in your life when you felt that somebody was truly worried about you. Your parents would’ve just watch you break down and then get up and try again, telling you that it’s the normal way to educate yourself. But that night, in his arms, you felt that you weren’t the same lonely child. It was a warm feeling, a feeling of a new burning in your heart. And it was a nice feeling.

I fell in your arms tonight / I fell hard in your arms tonight / It was nice

You agreed to meet Draco the next day in the Astronomy Tower half an hour before the dinner would finish and you were surprised to see him already there, welcoming you with the same somehow evil smirk he had the other day.

“You own me one,” he said without even waiting for you to say something. “Snape told me he’ll forget about the detention, but you need to make some rephrasing on your essay.” He was proud of his manipulative skills and you could see it in his eyes – there was a little sparkle as you approached him.

“Good job, Draco,” you said smiling from an ear to the other. “I guess I own you one.”

“Yes, yes you do.”

You look over the skyline and went closer to the balustrade, Draco following you closely even after you sat down on the stone floor, your legs hanging on the outside. You seemed to be secure enough, so Draco sat down and looked at the sunset as well.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did,” he puffed and you punched his shoulder, smiling.

“You’re an idiot, you know what I mean.”

“Why am I an idiot?” he asked and turned to face you with an ugly look.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” you told him quickly. “I call my friends that way when they say something dumb but they’re funny at the same time,” you explained, ashamed that you offended him.

He was silent for a moment and looked at the lake again. “My father uses that term to talk about incompetent people,” he said and you looked away from his face.

“I guess it’s a way to use it, too,” you spoke shy.

“Why do you want to ask me?” he changed the subject, removing the awkward tension between you two.

“Why did you called Hermione Granger that word?” you asked cautious not to upset him with your curiosity.

“That’s what she is,” he said nonchalantly, “She’s a Mudblood, and she is inferior to us.”

“Only because of her blood?” you laughed. “And how do you know I’m not inferior to you too?”

“I made my research on you before talking to you again,” he shrugged.

“She’s superior to both of us in many ways, Draco,” you told him and looked at him in the moment he did the same. “She lives in another world at the same time she lives in this one,” you explained, “We were born surrounded by magic and that’s our only way of living.”

He lour. “Why do you say that?”

“I take the Muggle Studies class,” you smiled proudly.

“Why would you do that?” he scoffed. If you ignored his mentality on that subject, you could say he was really cute.

“It’s interesting,” you started. “They have many objects we have no idea about and they have fairy tales about anything – they’re kind of superstitious.”

“Superstitious?” he asked like he was curious and not like he wanted to mock you.

“Yeah,” you said and got up. “Maybe I’ll tell you about some superstitions one day.”

“Tomorrow night,” he asked you and got up as well.

“You want to know more about Muggles?” you laughed.

He shrugged. “It’s your chance to prove me they’re not inferior to us.”

“Ok,” you smiled and took the challenge.

You left the Tower walking by his side, and your heart skipped a beat when you realized that he walked you to your Common Room door, wishing you a goodnight. The next day Professor Snape wanted to talk to you again after class, this time apologizing for the way he managed the situation, but you could tell he wasn’t very pleased with what he was saying. When the dinner was nearly finished, you could see Draco leaving the Great Hall without looking in your direction and you knew it was the signal to get up and do the same thing after some minutes. You thought it’d be better if nobody would know where you were going and with who.

“Ready to learn about Muggles?” you asked him with joy as soon as you got in the highest place in Hogwarts.

“Whatever,” he laughed and rolled his eyes.

You brought a book you got last year on your birthday from Hermione, a book about a lot of things the Muggles believe in. You read out loud some pages and Draco only sat next to you, listening. It was somehow therapeutic to read in front of him because he didn’t disturb you, he even looked like he was enjoying it.

“So they even have a specific flower for when somebody dies?” he asked out of a sudden. He was really paying attention.

“Yeah, in some countries,” you smiled. “In Italy, France or Belgium – where it’s made the best chocolate – the white chrysanthemum is well known to be brought at somebody’s funeral. But they also represent loyalty and devoted love, so I think it makes it even more beautiful. They’re my favorites,” you smiled.

“A flower that represents the death is your favorite?” he laughed, making you roll your eyes. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’ve never seen a chrysanthemum, and that’s something, considering the fact that my mother has a gigantic garden.”

He was often talking about his mother and you deducted that he’s a mummy boy – it was cute to know that he loved his mother dearly.

“I would love to see it,” you smiled politely.

“Maybe you will,” he said and caught you by surprise. “I mean, maybe you’ll see a garden as big as my mother’s,” he clarified when he observed those big eyes of yours.

“Yeah,” you said in a quiet voice, looking back into your book.

“What?” he asked and you didn’t respond him.

You were… sad? Disappointed? It was a strange and groundless feeling given by the idea that you’ll never see the garden of his house, and that also meant that you’ll never meet his mother, who was already painted in your mind like an elegant and kind woman.

“Are you upset?” he asked again and grabbed your jaw carefully, making you form eye contact.

“No,” you said simply, and the honesty in your voice surprised you. It was like all the hard feelings were erased by his eyes, by their calming color.

“Good,” he smiled, “Because you shouldn’t be upset.”

“Why?” you asked.

“I’ll bring you all the flowers from my mother’s garden if you’re not upset,” he traced his fingers up to your cheek, placing a strand of hair behind your red ear – all your emotions ran to your head, making the skin he touched burn.

“Why?” you asked again like a curious kid.

He rolled his eyes in a playful way, trying to pretend he was tired of your whys. “Because a pretty face like yours shouldn’t frown. You’ll get wrinkles,” he laughed and pinched your nose.

“Auch,” you hissed, massaging the end of your nose. “You say I’m pretty?”

“I say it’s time to get you back to your Common Room,” he nodded his head and got up, offering you his hand to help you get up.

The walk to the Ravenclaw’s door was silent, and when you got there it was an even more annoying silence. He only watched you like he was waiting for your next move.

“Uh, I can’t come tomorrow night,” you informed him. “I have to help my roommate study for Transfiguration.”

“So she’s stealing my study buddy,” he joked.

“I’ll see you around, though?”

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled and you just wanted to kiss that little dimple of his.

So you did – you got up to your toes and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Draco,” you smiled and entered the empty room, all your housemates already being off to their dormitories, probably. Your heart was pouting hard, like it was trying to escape the little cage of your ribs, but your soul was feeling warm and sweet, like honey.

The next day you tried to focus in all your classes, you tried to pay attention to your friends but all you could think of was Draco Malfoy, with his blue eyes and sweet dimple. It was a boring night the one you spent in your room, listening and explaining to your roommate simple things about your Transfiguration class, the same ones that Draco found difficult – even that made you think about him. It was a great relief to walk again on the stairs that led you to the Astronomy Tower, the excitement making your heart jump with joy. It dropped to the bottom of your soul when you didn’t find him there, and it broke when he didn’t come at all.

Maybe you scared him – maybe he didn’t want you to kiss his cheek, maybe he didn’t want you so close to him. Maybe you screwed it up. And you really believed that when he didn’t come two nights in a row, making you to skip dinner on the third night. You didn’t have the power to cry again, but you really wanted to – you nearly managed to get a tear out of you if it wouldn’t be eagle owl which entered your room through the open window.

“What’s up with you, stupid bird?” you asked in anger, making the owl give you a response in the same tonality. “Easy,” you spoke as you took the little parchment from its claw.

‘You didn’t come to dinner, are you sick? If you are, take a good sleep and get better. — D.M'

You crumbled the little letter and thrown it away telling the bird to leave you alone. You walked from left to right, biting your nails out of anxiety and anger – who was he to ignore you three days and then ask to meet you? You grabbed the letter from the floor and read it again, and the curiosity won against your anger. You grabbed a blue sweater and ran to the Astronomy Tower, but walked the steps so he wouldn’t know the speed with which you came. You were furious at him – you couldn’t wait to scream at him and tell him to fuck off with his unhealthy behaviors, but when you saw him leaning on the stone wall in front of you with a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and a small box on the other one, you just froze on the last step.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted you with a smile on the corner of his lips. You approached him slowly; your eyes going from his face go his hands and back to his hands. “I see you’re not sick,” he said when you were in front of him. “Why haven’t you come to dinner?”

“Why didn’t you give me a sign of living?” you asked straight, searching for his eyes.

“I was… busy,” he said and cleared his throat. “But I asked my mother to get me those,” he smiled and handed you the bouquet of chrysanthemums and the little box. “Open it,” he asked impatient.

You undone the little bow and opened it with one hand, the other holding carefully the flowers. Your hands were shaking. “Chocolate,” you laughed nervous.

“From Belgium, just like the flowers,” he said proud, smiling. “Don’t you like them?” he asked a little panicked when you didn’t say a thing, only watching the flowers in such an examining way.

“I love them!” you said, “I love them, Draco,” you assured them, holding them to your chest like you were scared he’d get them back.

“Good, I hoped you’d say that.”

You smelt them, and your whole soul was dancing – the sweet smell reminded you of the late autumn’s rains, of the lazy sunrays and all the nice skies in the world.

“I love them Draco, but what’s the occasion?”

He massaged the back of his head, avoiding your eyes. “You don’t need a reason to get flowers, Y/N. You deserve them anytime,” he said and your heart exploded at his cuteness. “My mother told me it’d be nice if I would give them to you before anything else,” he said and bite his lower lip immediately after, like he said something he didn’t mean to.

“Before what, Draco?” you asked curious. He was so good at making you all set on fire, unfocused and yet so, so concentrated on him.

“You’re a nice girl, Y/N, really nice,” he said in a quiet voice. His tonality made you thought about a break-up – like he wanted to break the bond that began to form between you two.

“What are you trying to tell me, Draco?” you asked in a harsh tone. “Just say it, ok? You don’t need to bring me flowers and chocolate if you want to say goodbye, it’s not like I’m dying,” you said pointing to the chrysanthemums.

“No, no, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “The white chrysanthemums represent loyalty and devoted love,” he whispered.

“Oh,” was all you could say. “Oh,” you repeated when you figured out what he really meant.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, and you laughed along with him. The sound of his laugh made your heart put itself back together. “So…” he started and came closer to you.

“So?” you said, biting your lips and blinking slowly.

“So may I kiss you, Y/N?” he asked in such a kind voice, all your body going soft at his words. His mother must’ve taught him how to talk to a girl – and she did such a good job.

You nodded shyly and let yourself carried by his hands, which dragged your body closer to his. He gently pressed his lips on your, letting them stay together for a couple of seconds and then retiring. His blue eyes were looking into yours, burning with desire and impatience. Your hands tightened the flowers and the little box harder, and you put them around his neck, getting him even closer to you and smashing your lips back together. His hands were on your waist, grabbing the material of your sweater between his fingers. Your eyes were closed and your body was filled with warmth – you saw nothing and yet, somehow, you were aware of everything in the Universe through a white light.

White light in your arms tonight / I lost sight in your arms tonight / It was nice

The next months were full of love and laughs for you – Draco was the most careful boy you’ve ever been with. He still wanted you two to have secret little dates in the Astronomy Tower, where you’d read to him about Muggles and poetry written by them.

“Don’t you think it’s kinda cute that I listen to you reading about that non-sense?” he asked once.

“It’s poetry, Draco,” you scoffed, “It’s about love!”

Besides the secret dates, he really wanted to go public. He was the type to show you off in front of everyone, only to make sure that every other boys knew that you were off their league but in a kind way – he’d kiss your forehead on the hallways, walk you to classes even if that meant he’d be late to his and gave you endless gifts. You received a lot of chrysanthemums, love letters and sweets anytime his mother would send him a package. Your roommates were jealous of you even if they told you directly that they didn’t like Draco and there was nothing to do about it. Hermione wasn’t so happy either and somehow distanced herself from you when she found out about your relationship, but Draco made you to forget all those things – he was the bad guy in everyone’s story, and even if some time ago he wasn’t even a side-character in yours, he became the climax of your story. You didn’t love Draco for his gift, you loved him truly – you loved him for the kind words, the warm glares, the sweet kisses and the tight hugs. And you knew he loved you too, because he made you feel safe in the whole madness with the Dark Lord and the war everyone was talking about.

“Do you think there’ll be a war, Draco?” you asked one night when you two where curled up into each other’s arms.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he said absent.

“I heard that Harry’s forming an army,” you said and looked up to him, only to see him rolling his eyes.

“Potter isn’t capable to tie his own laces, my love, and you think he’s able to lead an army?” he laughed and that made you roll your eyes. “You’re funny.”

“But you’re the only one taking it as a joke, you’re the one who’s laughing,” you said and he frowned.

“Then I think I have to change that,” he said and his fingers came to your ribs, tickling you.

You started to laugh hard, to fight so you could escape his torture, begging him to stop. “Draco, that’s enough!” you screamed as you felt tears in your eyes, so you grabbed his arm and tried to scratch him playfully to make him stop.

Hissing, he let you go and pulled away from you, his hand over the left arm.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you asked worried that you hurt him.

“Nothing,” he said in an annoyed voice, getting up on his feet and looking down to you. “I’m fine,” he said and something in your mind clicked. For more than two weeks he’d say that stupid phrase whenever you asked him what happened – he seemed tired and anxious, but whenever you’d ask about him he’d become fine.

“Don’t try to fool me, Draco,” you said annoyed as well and, already on your feet, you’d try to grab his hand and reveal the possible wound.

“I said I’m fine, Y/N,” he repeated and avoided your hands like they’d burn him.

“And I said to stop fooling me!” you shouted and sneaked close enough to him to get his hand away from his arm, but he pushed you harder than he thought – you fell on the ground, a piece of material in your hand; his sleeve – ripped, revealing red lines, scratches – who were older, but reopened by your nails – which were covering the worst thing you could think of: the Dark Mark. The air left your lungs and your head started to spin, the vision becoming blurred.

“Y/N…” he tried to say, coming closer to you but you crawled away.

“What the fuck, Draco?!” you screamed and got up by yourself. “Stay away!” you said when he tried to approach you.

“I can explain, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking.

“How on earth you could explain the Dark Mark on your arm?” you shouted again, your hands running in your hair and pulling it.

“Sh,” he said loud, asking you to be quiet. “It’s not what it looks like, my love, I swear.”

You laughed – loud, nervous. “Then what it is?”

“They made me do it, Y/N!”

“They made you get the Dark Mark, become a fucking Death Eater and join Voldemort?” you screamed again and step back when he tried to come closer.

“My father, he… I didn’t want to, Y/N,” he said quietly, his eyes starting to get wet.

“You lied to me, Draco,” you whispered. “You said everything will be fine, you said you’ll protect me!”

“And I will!” he also screamed. “I will,” he repeated breathing heavily.

“How? Making me join the Death Eaters so they wouldn’t kill me later?” you mocked him, and you could say it hurt him to see you that way – but you didn’t care.

“Nobody will kill you, Y/N,” he said, trying to calm you. “You’ll be fine, we’ll be fine.”

“A war is coming, Draco,” you said harshly, “The Dark Lord is alive and back and anyone who’s against him is in danger.”

“You’re not in danger, Y/N,” he repeated. “We’re in this together, please, love,” he begged you, tears running down his face.

“We’re not on the same side, Draco,” you whispered.

“I thought you didn’t like to pick sides,” he said like he was trying to make you change your mind.

“We’re talking about a war, Draco, not a fucking fight in the courtyard,” you said and shook your head. “Just… leave me alone, please,” you asked him and started to walk away.

“Y/N, please!” he grabbed your wrist but you pulled away immediately.

“Don’t touch me ever again, Draco Malfoy,” you said in hatred, giving him a disgusted look before leaving him alone in the Astronomy Tower – alone, hurt and crying. He saw the disgust in your eyes, the hate and the fear.

Hard times came for you – you decided to act like nothing was happening, like you had no idea what Draco was and a part of you felt miserable for doing so, but other part was believing him, the other part was still loving him and it was hurting to see him and not run in his arms. You decided to let the time pass and decide what would happen with everything – but the time was cruel, because nothing good happened since that night. Dumbledore’s death, the Death Eaters, the continuing agony. You became scared to stay alone, thinking that a Death Eater or even Voldemort would show up and kill you – and Draco wouldn’t be there to protect you.

But when the real battle began, you felt all the adrenaline rushing through your body – Professor McGonagall seemed worried but she gave you the power to fight back, to fight for Hogwarts, for your friends, for Harry, for life. You never tried to spell hexes because it wasn’t necessary, but in the battles you had with some Death Eaters you remembered them all – and you casted them loud, pointing your wand in their direction with hatred. You were running on the same old stairs that led you to the Astronomy Tower, a loud and crazy laugh following you along with a curly hair and dark, mad eyes, thirsty for blood.

“Stop running, little doll!” she screamed when you got up, waiting for her with your wand ready, something that made her laugh. “Stubborn one, aren’t you?” she asked and walked closer to you with tangled steps.

“Crazy one, aren’t you?” you managed to gather your nerve to ask her. She didn’t seem too happy with your comment, because she lifted her wand – before she’d say anything, you screamed the Disarming Charm as loud as you could, making her wand fly from her hand and fall to the ground.

“Well, well,” she laughed, running her tongue over her bloody lips. “You won, now kill me!” she laughed, the sound driving you crazy.

“Shut up! Just shut up!”

“Kill me!”

“Crucio!” you screamed and the green light flashed from the tip of your wand, hitting Bellatrix Lestrange in the middle of her chest. She fell to the ground, laughing – it was hurting, but Bellatrix have been insane for a long, long time.

“Y/N!”

“Draco?” you said to yourself, watching the boy you loved running to you. He grabbed your shoulders, looking at you from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you alright? Did she hurt you?”

You looked at Bellatrix who was still to the ground, and you tighten your fingers around the wand.

“No,” you said and looked back to Draco. He seemed fine and a part of you wanted to scream that he was fine because he was one of them, they wouldn’t hurt him like that crazy woman tried to do to you, but the other part won that battle. You hugged him tight, wanting to make all the things disappear and be just you and him. “I’m scared, Draco,” you whispered.

“You’ll be fine, love,” he said and kissed your temple.

“So she’s the little doll that got you all soft, Draco?”

The fear ran through your body again and you pulled away from Draco, still holding his hands.

“Please,” he said and looked at the crazy woman who got her wand back. He let go of your hand and grabbed his wand, pointing it to her.

“Aw, Draco darling,” she laughed, “Does Cissy know that you’re pointing your want to your family?”Family?

“Aunt Bella, please, don’t hurt her,” Draco breathed heavily, not taking his eyes off of her.

“But she hurt me, Draco,” Bellatrix laughed, got her wand in your direction and casted an unspoken spell, only saying your name.

Draco tried to protect you, getting in front of you, but the purple light went through him and entered your body. The pain was indescribable, like all your internal organs were stabbed with hundred of knives. “No!” he screamed at his aunt, who only laughed louder and waved him goodbye before disappearing into a black cloud of smoke.

You’d feel your members go numb, dropping your wand and falling to the ground, making Draco to scream again like he could physically feel your agony. “Y/N!” he screamed.

Some balls of light were thrown in the tower’s direction, by the people outside, and they made the windows in the roof break, falling upon you along with pieces of tiles. Your sight went blurry, seeing Draco through red spots. “What’s happening, Draco?” you managed to ask him.

“You’re fine, my love,” he cried, tightening your shoulders, trying to hug you without hurting you.

“I can’t see you, hear you,” you cried and coughed; he started to sob even harder, watching the blood drop from your eyes and mouth as you tried to breathe. “I don’t feel very good,” you told him as it weren’t obvious.

“You’ll be alright, my love, stay with me,” he begged you.

His tears were falling on your face, mixing with the blood that was leaving your body – Bellatrix Lestrange chose a curse that gave you a slow and painful death.

“Hey, you,” you said, trying to make him pay attention to you. You looked him in the eyes, trying hard to see them clear. “Don’t you think it’s kinda cute?”

“What?” he whispered.

“Don’t you think it’s kinda cute,” you repeated, “That I died right inside your arms tonight?”

“No! No! No!” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t you dare to do this to me, Y/N! Do you hear me? Stay with me!”

But you were gone – you left that world with a little smile on your lips, with bloody tears on your face and with the memory of his eyes watching you, of his arms holding you. And that made death a less painful thing for you.

That I'm fine even after I have died / Because it was in your arms I died

“No, Y/N!” he screamed, realizing you were gone. “Come back! Come back, Y/N, you own me one!”

“I’m sorry, Draco,” you whispered while watching him from behind – you could also see your lifeless body, laying on the ground with glass pieces, rocks and blood all over it and it made you cry. You floated over your body and tried the stupidest thing you could think of: going back inside. But it was impossible – it felt like it was locked. Bloody tears were falling from your eyes, and you damned Bellatrix Lestrange for giving you such an ugly death: you’ll cry blood for eternity on the Hogwarts’ halls as a ghost. “I want to come back, Draco!” you screamed at the same time when he asked you to come back.

I cry in the afterlife / I cry hard because I have died / And you're alive / I try to escape the afterlife / I try hard to get back inside / Your arms tonight

The battle was over: Lord Voldemort was now dead, Bellatrix Lestrange was dead along with other Death Eaters, but so were a lot of innocent people: now, some students would stay forever in the castle because they chose to remain behind; they, just like you, were too scared of death and chose an imitation of life. As a ghost, you didn’t really felt like showing to everyone; it hurt you enough to know they missed you, and to see their broken souls when they’d realize you’re trapped in this world as a ghost would be more painful than your death. You knew nothing about Draco for a long time – you stayed in the tower all the time, and you already knew that after some years, when the school would be rebuilt, the little kids would call you the ghost of the Astronomy Tower – that thought made you smile; maybe they’d call you Bloody Y/N, or Bloody Crybaby Y/N, or… whatever name would fit a blood-crying ghost. That’s how you spent many months – thinking, crying, whishing you’d have chose the death.

A loud cry woke you up one day – you looked over to the balustrade, where a tall figure was shaking while looking down, down all the way to the ground. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said and you recognized him easily. “I’m so fucking sorry, my love,” he cried again and you approached him. On the ground, at his feet, was a bouquet of white chrysanthemums – they made your eyes tear up immediately.

“I promised you I’d protect you and I failed,” he whispered. “I hate myself since that day, my love,” he confessed.

To let him know about your presence was a bad idea – he’d be devastated to see you that way.

“I’ll see you soon, love,” he spoke to himself, or so he thought because he jumped in surprise when you screamed.

“Wait!”

“Y/N…” he cried, now facing you and crying harder. “You’re… alive?”

“Draco…” you sighed, “What are you doing here?”

He came closer and tried to hug you, but his arms went through you with ease. “You’re… a ghost.”

“Please don’t jump,” you said crying harder than him. It was a horrible image, indeed, to see a blood-crying ghost – but he was in love with you.

“I miss you, Y/N, I want to be with you,” he told you like he asked for permission.

But you shook your head in disapproval. “You won’t like it here, darling,” you smiled. “Please, stay – be happy and live.”

“I love you, Y/N, how could I live without you?” he cried like a little child, helpless.

You pointed to the flowers. “If your love is devoted, you’d spend the rest of your life fulfilling my wish, Draco.”

“Y/N…”

“Stay alive, Draco. I’ll be here, always,” you promised and cried.

He ran his hands through his hair, his blue eyes crying you a river. When he calmed down, he bent over and grabbed the flowers, handing them to you. You cried in pain, but still tried to get them – and you where surprised when you could.

“Come back to me, Y/N,” he said and you tried your best to make his wish come true. You tried to hug him, to kiss his forehead – he could swear he felt your cold skin on his.

“I wish I could, my love,” you said and stayed in front of him, with the sign of his devoted love in your hand.

And hey (hey), you (you), don't you think it's kinda cute / That I (I) try (try) to escape the afterlife / That I (I) try (try) to get back in your arms alive / That I died in your arms

#vogueweasley3k #draco malfoy x reader #ravenclaw reader #draco x y/n #slowburn #angst #arms tonite #draco x you #hogwarts #astronomy tower #tw death #tw blood #tw mature languge

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eyessharpweaponshot · 4 years

Note

hi there!! are there any fics you’re reading right now that you would recommend? i need something good after the season we’ve been given so far 😣

hello there!

I agree, this season has been disappointing - especially considering it’s the last one. but thankfully, our fandom is full of amazing writers that serve us goods regularly. I have so much to recommend, it’s a joke. so prepare for a long fic rec. In no particular order, let’s begin:

1. Chasin’ You - @burninghoneyatdusk

okay. you’re gonna see a bit of a theme with me in these fic recs because the authors I mention are some of my favourites in the world - sam being one of the TOP TIER ones. this fic is a modern au, written about clarke and bellamy as exes (a favourite trope of mine) that have went their separate ways. clarke has moved away and hasn’t kept tabs on bellamy but he's soared to the top as a country star, his hit single being about her and what they had. if there’s any fic from this list you need to start reading, it’s this one.

2. Voices in the Water - @burninghoneyatdusk

It’s the canon version we all wanted. set on earth, clarke’s aunt (nia) forces her into an arranged marriage with king bellamy to unite the clans. but under it all, nia has tasked her to kill him. obviously, as clarke falls in love with bellamy, it’s the one task wanheda probably can’t complete. I'm in love with the imagery and descriptions in this fic. there are honestly some lines that sam writes that I want to frame and put up in my house. absolute brilliance.

3. All Because of You - @burninghoneyatdusk

*sheepishly raises hand* - hi, it’s me again, fangirling over another one of sam’s fics. if you have followed me for a while, either here or on twitter, you’ll have seen me screaming about this fic. I've pulled over while driving to read an update that came through to my email. no lie. I don’t say this lightly but it is definitely in my top 3 favourite bellarke fics of all time. sam DELIVERS with this one. bellamy knocks up his sister’s best friend when they’re both young and they grow together in raising their daughter. this fic flashes between present and future in the most seamless way and we see how in love they were back then but too scared to admit it, combined with how in love they are now that they are mature and older - but yet can’t seem to take the leap. I can’t tell you enough how good this fic is. I'm in love and it’s one of those fics that I would happily have as a book on my bookshelf, the pages worn and falling out from the amount of times that I re-read it.

*I just want to note that sam is doing a fantastic job at running @bellarkefic-for-blm. This is an opportunity for the bellarke community to directly support the Black Lives Matter cause through reading and writing fanfiction. For every fanfiction prompt a participating writer receives, they ask that you donate to an organization that supports the BLM cause. This initiative includes non-bellarke the 100 ships and requests for other content (e.g. gif sets, icons, moodboards, fanart). please check them out and request a prompt (this also includes updates for the above mentioned fics)*

4. Count Your Teeth - @icantloseyou-too

let me tell you, you guys will be well fed after reading this fic. It’s one of the most original idea’s and we get so much bellarke and the blake siblings in this one. bellamy is a treasure hunter and married to clarke, after leaving his thieving days behind him. that is until his past comes knocking and drags him back into that world again - and clarke along with him. absolute chefs kiss!

5. Cups and Sorcerers - @icantloseyou-too

again, such a unique plot with just the right amount of fluff. clarke is a witch who owns a coffee shop and she ends up meeting someone just as unique as her. I’m invested in this to an embarrassing degree and it always puts me in a good mood when this fic is updated. such a light and heart filling read and ciara does a fantastic job of world building in this fic.

6. Paint me in Trust - @pawprinterfanfic

I'm sure this fic needs no introduction. everyone and their mother has heard of it and if you haven’t read it yet, believe me, you’re missing out. a harry potter au that runs alongside the last few movies without being involved with the main characters. essie manages to make an already existing world so different, thrilling and gripping. it emotionally upends you and takes you along for the ride without any intention of letting you off. I'm just in love with it and rightly so!

7. When the Wolves Come Home - @pawprinterfanfic

I don’t know how people aren’t RAVING about this fic more because I certainly am. it’s massive for me to even say this because I love all of essie’s work but it’s my favourite fic that she’s written. I can’t describe the feeling I get when I read how she’s written bellarke in this. it’s a percy jackson au but you don’t need to have knowledge of that world to enjoy this. I actually started reading the books because of this fic. essie writes it so well and incorporates a lot of fantastic elements from greek mythology while also keeping me on the edge of my seat with bellarke’s journey. HERE FOR IT ALL THE WAY.

8. I’ll Find You in the Morning Sun - @cominguproses13x

I’ve never seen a fic talked about as much as this one. with 60 chapters, it’s bound to satisfy any hunger you have for bellarke. it’s set in a post apocalyptic world and it is beyond a shadow of a doubt, my favourite setting to read bellarke in. I've actually stopped reading this fic on chapter 5 because im currently writing my own post apocalyptic au as it was a trope on my bingo card and I don’t want any subconscious spill over, but I fully intend on reading the rest of the fic in one go once my fic is published and done. it deserves all the praise and hype.

9. For Blue Skies - @kombellarke

kayla’s fics make me actually weep. her writing style is just unbelievable and she sucks me into stories so fast. this one is no different. I live and breathe for bellarke as exes and this fic is one of my favourites. it’s a modern au with clarke as a mother and she cascades back into bellamy’s life without warning. perfect angst and anticipation. in love.

10. Love Like Fools - @talistheintrovert

the way I love talis with my whole heart. I'm always obsessed with her fics and the way this one was written was just magnificent. enemies to friends to lovers, roommates, angst, emotional comforting? SIGN ME UP. the perfect mix of all of those and I felt so good after reading this. always a fan.

11. It Had To Be You - @useyourtelescope

I had the honour of pre-reading some of this fic before it was published and I felt so privileged. a regency au with a prank war sprinkled in? perfection. hana honestly writes this so beautifully and I can’t recommend this enough. it’s so unique and we are all so incredibly lucky that there’s something in the bellarke fic world for everyone.

12. Veni, Vidi, Vinci - @carrieeve

Again, proof of the pudding that there’s something in fic for everyone. I’ve never read one like this before and it THRILLED me. murphy and bellamy working together to steal a Vinci? it was the fic I never knew I needed. the bellarke interaction in this was beautifully written and I am just completely obsessed. we really struck gold with the bellarke big bang works this year.

13. A Twist of Fate - @queenemori

let’s be honest, soulmate au’s are always wanted and needed in this fandom and kara does an excellent job of serving us this one. we got some team cockroach in here along with some top tier quality bellarke. what more could you ask for? if you haven’t read this fic yet, you need to. so thankful for kara being the absolute gifted babe that she is.

14. Power Over Me - @sparklyfairymira

okay, if you recently watched the witcher on netflix like I did, believe me, you NEED to read this fic. if you haven’t watched the witcher, this fic will make you want to watch it. the smut in this, the plot, the WRITING. absolutely phenomenal. have I mentioned how lucky we are to have such fantastic writers in this fandom?

15. There’s a Serpent Lying Deep Down in These Still Waters - @shaeheda

post apocalyptic au? SIGN ME UP. bellarke thrown together in unkind circumstances? SIGN ME UP. this magnificent human writing a fic? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. I'm so in love with this fic already and I haven’t even finished it yet. as I've said, I've stopped reading fics in this genre until my own is completed but I’ve read enough to tell you that this needs to be on your next to read list. forever in awe of the talent here and this fic makes me feel so lucky to be part of something so great.

I hope this satisfies you for a while and that you enjoy all the bellarkey goodness that comes from these fics. I'm gonna drop some of mine below because why not? just in case you’re in need of something more.

1. I Found Peace in Your Violence

clarke griffin has it all. she’s popular, an artistic prodigy and has a wealthy family to boot. so when her perfect world comes crashing down around her, it’s time to sink or swim. she tests positive for the Homicidal Tendency Syndrome gene, also known as the kill gene. clarke is plucked from her comfortable life and placed into a school with people just like her - carriers, delinquents. when she meets bellamy blake there, he looks like everything they say HTS carriers are. a monster, a criminal. yet, he’s the one who protects her.

2. I Am Lost This Time

a void!bellamy fic that we all deserved to have happen in canon. an au where bellamy hears clarke’s radio calls from earth, sees her memories in m-cap and where she really is the key: the one that unlocks his memories and brings him back to her.

3. Purple, Blue, Orange, Red

bellarke are childhood friends and teenage lovers, reuniting in the midst of the same grief that tore them apart.

4. Devil Side

post apocalyptic setting and my favourite fic to have ever written. both of them coming together to survive and protect those in their family, including two small children. bellarke started out as strangers, who would have thought that they’d end up co-parenting in the middle of a world that is too dangerous to survive out in the open?

5. Waste It on Me

a soulmate/reincarnation au that I wrote based off my own breakup and feelings. probably my most popular fic and should keep you going in terms of bellarke feels.

#bellarke #the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fic rec #fic recommendations #jensfic #eyessharpweaponshot #wonderful writers #wonderful fics

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melanielocke · 3 years

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Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 17

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 16

Next Chapter: Chapter 18

Lucie spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden trying to figure out how to do magic. It didn’t help that she had no idea what she was doing or how magic worked and instead she was just trying some methods she remembered from her favorite books. So far, nothing happened. After some time, Jessamine came outside to watch.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘Trying to do magic,’ Lucie answered, a little frustrated with her lack of progress. ‘You don’t happen to have any clue how that works?’

Jessamine looked shocked. ‘About magic? Of course not, why would you think such a thing. I’m a good Christian.’

Lucie guessed she should have suspected such a thing. ‘Jess, in all the time that you’ve been here, was I the only one who could see you?’

Jessamine thought for a while.

‘Actually, no,’ she said. ‘There was someone else, years ago. The sister of Mr. Gray. She travelled to the manor shortly after my death, to express her condolences to my family, and she could see me and spoke to me.’

Mr. Gray’s sister… Her mother couldn’t see ghosts, but perhaps she was somehow distantly related to his woman and to Jessamine’s old suitor through her mother. Perhaps that power did travel in families.

‘And was there anything else she could do?’ Lucie asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Jessamine said. ‘Mr. Gray always thought his sister was odd, occupied with things not suitable for a young lady. She rarely came to balls, even if she was old enough to be out and looking for suitors. But he thought discussing what his sister was up to would be inappropriate for the proper ladies present, such as myself.’

‘She must have been a witch too then,’ Lucie speculated.

Jessamine looked horrified. ‘Witches don’t really exist, do they? Mr. Gray’s sister was certainly odd, everyone knew that, but I never thought she could be a witch.’

‘Jess, you’re literally a ghost. And I can see you and speak with you, just like Mr. Gray’s sister did. When I’m near you can pick up hair brushes, which you normally can’t.’

‘All this time, you’ve been bewitching me?’ Jessamine asked, her voice small.

‘No, not like that,’ Lucie said. ‘That wasn’t something I did intentionally, and I never forced you into anything. Although I’m thinking maybe I could. Jess, my friend is in danger and I need to save him. Are you willing to help me?’

Jessamine looked reluctant. ‘What will you do to me?’

‘Just test a few things, figure out what I can do,’ Lucie said. ‘I’ve always made you stronger, I have no idea what you could do with my help.’

She looked down, resigned. ‘Alright, Lucie. I will see what I can do. What is it that you ask of me?’

Lucie looked around, and noticed a stick lying on the ground.

‘Can you pick that up?’ she asked, pointing.

Jessamine looked confused, but bent down and picked up the stick, holding it in her hands. Usually, ghosts could pick up things they cared for around her. In Jessamine’s case, hairbrushes and dolls. Lucie didn’t think Jessamine cared much for sticks.

‘That looks odd,’ Thomas, who was sitting in a garden chair next to Alastair, commented. ‘Like you just made the stick float.’

‘Yes,’ Lucie said. ‘But that’s not exactly helpful, is it? Jessamine, can you touch Thomas? Usually you’d pass through him.’

Jessamine dropped the stick and rubbed her hand even if there was no dirt remaining on her ghostly form. She walked over to Thomas, who'd stood up out of his chair, and shook his hand, curtsying politely. Thomas yelped, which indicated that he could feel her. Interesting.

‘Do gentlemen not kiss a lady’s hand anymore?’ Jessamine asked.

Thomas turned red, and lifted his hand up, taking Jessamine’s hand with him, and kissed her. To Lucie, this looked relatively normal, but Thomas couldn’t see Jessamine. This had to be awkward. Jessamine let go of Thomas’ hand.

‘It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir,’ Jessamine said.

Lucie repeated Jessamine’s words to Thomas.

‘Ah, it is a pleasure to meet you too, miss,’ Thomas said, looking over her head instead of at her.

Lucie sometimes wondered if Thomas got neck cramps from having to look down whenever he was talking to other people.

Jessamine let go of Thomas’ hand. ‘In my day, the gentlemen certainly had better manners,’ she snorted.

Lucie started laughing. ‘Jessamine is not impressed by your manners, Tom,’ she said.

Thomas turned an even deeper red. ‘I am terribly sorry, miss, that my manners are not up to your standard. Wait, is she still there?’

Jessamine scoffed. ‘I’ll never understand the gentlemen of this century. If you can call them that. People are so contradictory. I always felt like public displays of affection are frowned upon nowadays, especially between gentlemen, even if they are very close friends. But your two gentlemen seem to be very affectionate and improper with each other.’

Lucie started laughing. She suspected Jessamine had seen Alastair and Thomas kiss each other the other day, she’d seemed very shocked by it, but Lucie didn’t realize she’d interpreted them as having a very intimate friendship. Some decades before Jessamine lived, such a thing had been more normalized though, known as the romantic friendship. Although Lucie suspected at least some of those “romantic friendships” were really concealed gay relationships. ‘Oh no, that is not considered normal in this day, but Alastair and Thomas are not simply close friends.’

Jessamine looked absolutely horrified and Lucie decided to change the subject. She did not feel like discussing sexuality with a ghost from the Victorian era, she didn’t think that conversation would end without anyone getting hurt or offended.

‘What did she say?’ Thomas asked.

‘Jess is very confused about the gentlemen of this day. Usually they are not so affectionate towards each other as you are with Alastair,’ Lucie summarized.

‘I,’ Alastair announced, ‘am very glad to live in this day and age and not whatever century this lady must have been from.’

Lucie could imagine, the modern day might still be a mess but she would certainly prefer it over being a 19thcentury lady. She imagined she would have married young, a gentleman she’d thought she was fond of, but didn’t really feel romantic attraction to, and then she’d be trapped. That wouldn’t happen to her main character Eloise though. Eloise and Mabel would find a way, although of course writing a story about a sapphic couple in the 19th century had its limitations in their happy ending.

‘So Jess can touch objects and people who don’t see her,’ Lucie continued. ‘Anyone has any other ideas?’

‘Could you make her visible to us?’ Alastair asked.

‘Jess, show yourself,’ Lucie said.

Jessamine frowned. ‘I don’t know how to do that.’

Nothing happened, at least not that Lucie could tell.

‘She looks a lot like I pictured her,’ Thomas said.

‘I thought her hair would be darker,’ Alastair commented. ‘I don’t think bleach for hair existed back then, and I’m pretty sure no one has hair that’s naturally this light.’

‘I think it depends on where you’re from,’ Thomas said. ‘Light blonde hair is more common in Northern Europe.’

Cordelia snorted. ‘Just because you used to bleach your hair, does not mean everyone who is blonde does the same.’

Thomas frowned. ‘You bleached your hair?’

‘I dyed it back to black, and it’s mostly grown out now,’ Alastair said. ‘It was too much effort to maintain, I had to touch up the roots every four weeks. It looked good though.’

‘It did not look good,’ Cordelia commented. ‘He looked like a turnip.’

Lucie’s eyes went wide. It worked. They were seeing Jessamine. Lucie was feeling a little faint, but did not let it distract her.

‘Come on, pay attention. You’re looking at a ghost for the first time in your life, isn’t that more interesting than Alastair’s hair?’ Lucie shouted.

‘Almost,’ Thomas said. ‘Have you seen Alastair’s hair?’

Alastair rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s pay attention to the ghost. Alright, blonde people are real. And her dress is very nice, I always liked the bustle style.’

‘You can see me?’ Jessamine’s smile lit up. ‘Oh this wonderful. It is such a long time since a gentleman has been able to see me. And it is a lovely dress, I had it made when I visited Paris with my mama.’

She pronounced Paris the way the French did. Lucie knew Jessamine loved to talk about her gowns, although she wasn’t fond of modern clothes. She wore a green day dress with a bustle, something Lucie imagined was a bit unpractical. So many layers. Not to mention the corset.

Alastair looked up thoughtfully. ‘How long do you imagine she’ll stay visible, Lucie?’ he asked. ‘What about if you step away from here? Go inside?’

Lucie took several steps away from Jessamine, taking hold of the door to open it.

‘She’s gone,’ Thomas said.

Lucie turned around and walked to Jessamine. ‘What about now?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ Cordelia said. ‘I think once she disappears, you need to ask her to become visible again.’

‘Show yourself,’ Lucie repeated.

‘There she is,’ Alastair said. ‘She looks surprisingly human. I always thought ghosts would be more transparent like in movies.’

‘If they were, do you think I would have mistaken ghosts for living people?’ Lucie asked. ‘If you look carefully, ghosts have a bit of a shimmer but beyond that they look just like people.’

‘Living people, that is,’ Jessamine said. ‘I consider myself a person still, thank you very much.’

‘Of course you are a person,’ Thomas confirmed, indicating that he could hear as well as see her. ‘It is odd to think you’ve been here for such a long time, and always invisible.’

‘It has been very difficult,’ Jessamine said. ‘For a long time, no one could see me until Lucie came here. And modern times are so confusing. Why do ladies wear clothes that reveal their ankles at all times? Worse, the knees? In my day, the occasional ankle slip was to be expected, of course, but visibility of the calves and knees was unheard of. Have people lost all sense of propriety?’

‘Because it’s more practical to not wear floor length dresses all the time,’ Lucie said. ‘Also, no one cares about ankles nowadays. Or knees.’

Lucie did like wearing dresses and skirts, but didn’t like them too long. She was short and therefore the hem always dragged over the ground, which meant she either tripped over the skirt or got it dirty when she wore it outside.

‘But it’s so improper,’ Jessamine insisted, horrified. ‘How could people just stop caring about such things? If this continues, it will not be long until humans go out with no clothes at all and society will fall into chaos.’

‘Now that is generally frowned upon,’ Alastair said. ‘I do not expect that to happen anytime soon.’

‘It would be uncomfortable,’ Cordelia added. ‘And also very cold. The point of clothes is to stay warm.’

‘Does anyone have an idea on how to open a gateway to the land in between?’ Lucie asked. ‘Because that is different from what I can ask of ghosts.’

Cordelia frowned. ‘Maybe you could ask Jessamine.’

‘Jess, can you open a gateway to the land in between for me?’ Lucie asked.

Jessamine frowned. ‘I’m sorry, I do not understand what you ask of me.’

That wasn’t it, then. Lucie guessed opening the gateway was something she’d have to do herself. Making Jessamine visible, that was also something she did, she commanded it and Jessamine could not do it without her. Then perhaps it was about commanding.

‘Or you could ask for a gateway,’ Thomas suggested.

‘Like, open sesame?’ Lucie asked.

‘Be specific,’ Alastair added. ‘What is it that you want to happen? Perhaps Thomas is right, perhaps all you have to do is ask.’

Lucie tried to remember what Grace said, that her magic was dark magic. Perhaps she needed to ask the darkness, or shadows, or something like it? Grace had hinted at this too. Careful what you wish, you just might get it.

‘Darkness, open a gateway to the land in between that is only open to myself, Thomas Lightwood, and Alastair and Cordelia Carstairs,’ Lucie said, remembering to be detailed. Perhaps that was what Grace had warned her about, that what she asked for would happen but not the way she’d intended. ‘A gateway that will not close until all four of us made it back safely to our world.’

It didn’t look like a gateway exactly. There was just a hint of shadow, and when it touched Lucie her friends disappeared. There were no ruins here, the change was subtle beyond her friends being gone. The air was just a touch darker, the breeze a little colder. Some of the color had faded, the grass was a bit duller. There was a fog hovering above the ground. The house was still there, but from here she should be able to see her father’s car and that was gone.

Cordelia, Thomas and Alastair appeared beside her, Cordelia with cortana in hand.

‘I don’t see any ruins,’ Thomas commented.

‘I think the land in between is layered over our land,’ Lucie said. ‘So perhaps to find those ruins, I need to open a portal around where the ruins are. Or I guess we could walk there, but then we’d leave a portal open here and we’d have to walk all the way back once we find it in this world.’

‘I imagine you could open another portal,’ Alastair said. ‘But finding the place the ruins should be in our world and then opening a portal is likely safer. Come, we should get back. This place doesn’t feel right.’

Alastair had a point. Lucie looked around to the way back. In their own world, the gateway looked like a shadow. Here it was a ray of light in an otherwise dark and gloomy environment. She watched her friends step into the light and disappear and then Lucie followed.

The four of them were back in the normal world, her parents both in the garden, concerned. The gate of darkness disappeared behind her. Lucie had asked it not to close until all of them were back, she guessed on its own it didn’t stay open for long and would close if she didn’t stop it. She made a mental note of that, she didn’t want to have to open another portal while they were being attacked by something. The portal closing behind her while all four of them were back was a good way to make sure nothing else came through.

She was feeling a bit more faint than before, light headed. She should have expected using magic would come at a price, but perhaps it was like exercise and she could improve her magic stamina.

‘Where did you just come from?’ Tessa asked.

Lucie looked around for help, but figured since this was her power she was to explain it. She started with Grace visiting again, with her telling her that she had more power than she knew and that she could open a gate.

‘I figured out how to do it,’ Lucie concluded. ‘So we can go into the woods and find Grace’ skin.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want us to come along?’ Will asked.

Lucie considered it, but it was a long time since her father had fought anything and her mother had barely any experience. It wouldn’t be safer with them there. Cordelia had a sword, Lucie was the only one who could open the gateway, and Grace seemed under the impression that it was also necessary for Alastair to come, that his memory would be essential. At least one person with the sight would also be useful.

‘I think it’s better if you didn’t,’ Lucie said. ‘But there’s something else you could do in the meantime. According to Cordelia and Alastair, their father has lots of notebooks from their ancestors, and one must have described a witch similar to me. Perhaps you could call Elias, or uncle Jem, and ask for them.’

Will frowned. ‘Do you think Elias would help us now? He was so opposed to Cordelia coming here with us before.’

Cordelia hadn’t been allowed to come at first, but then her mother had moved out and taken her children with her and her father couldn’t stop her anymore. Sona had decided it would be good for both her children to have some time away and had encouraged them to go. Lucie agreed it was unlikely Elias would be any help on his own accord. She couldn’t say she understood him or his relationship with his children well, all she knew was the damage it had done to Alastair and Cordelia.

‘Father does listen to Jem at times,’ Alastair said stiffly. ‘I think perhaps he could reason with him.’

‘I’ve been meaning to call Jem anyway,’ Will said. ‘If you do not return before dinner, we will come looking for you.’

‘I could leave the gate open for you,’ Lucie said. ‘But we cannot be sure about the time. It doesn’t run the same way, we could spend only a couple of hours there and we’d be missing for a whole day. We cannot keep track of time in there.’

‘Dinnertime,’ Will repeated. ‘I won’t blame you if you’re not back, but we will come looking.’

‘Perhaps we should go tomorrow,’ Alastair suggested and Lucie wondered if maybe after this morning, he did not feel up for it and needed rest. ‘I think it is unlikely we will finish before that time, and if we go tomorrow early in the morning, it is far more likely we can finish before dinnertime.’

Lucie had to admit his line of reasoning had merit, even if she was impatient to get out there. Besides, that gave her time to practice. Cordelia returned to her practice with cortana, whereas Lucie tried asking the darkness for other favors. She practiced opening and closing gate. The gateways all worked and did what she asked of them, but it was tiring though. After four more gates Lucie collapsed onto a garden chair and took to watching Cordelia practice, too tired to get up. Perhaps Alastair had a point in postponing going for the skin, and she imagined even if he was feeling better now that he was exhausted after this morning. She’d had a break down on a rare occasion, autism and stubbornness didn’t always go well together, but never as bad as Alastair had. She knew how exhausting it could be.

Cordelia’s stamina had to be a lot better than Lucie’s, because she kept going for a long time and didn’t seem to get tired. She certainly had a weak spot for girls with swords, and Lucie made a note to use that in one of her novels. Cordelia had tied back her dark red hair in a high ponytail, and was wearing a wide shirt tucked into a pair of jean shorts, something a bit more practical than Lucie’s yellow jumpsuit. Well, it was comfortable to walk around in, but a struggle to go to the bathroom. Cordelia had begun to break a sweat, a few drips on her forehead, but that didn’t stop her. Perhaps later she’d want to go swimming to cool down. Thinking of water, Lucie realized she hadn’t drunk anything in a while. And considering Cordelia had been training for some time, she had to be dehydrated.

‘Do you want something to drink?’ Lucie asked.

‘I could use a glass of water,’ Cordelia said. ‘I always forget to drink when I’m training.’

Fortunately, Lucie was there to make sure Cordelia drank enough water. She tended to forget herself too, especially when she was busy writing. Sometimes she’d complain of a headache, only to realize she hadn’t drunk anything since breakfast.

She went inside to find Alastair and Thomas were about to leave, both carrying a bag.

‘Where are you going?’ Lucie asked.

‘Just to the lake,’ Thomas said. ‘We won’t go too far into the lake, but it’s getting too warm pretty much everywhere. Maybe you and Cordelia can join us later when you’re done training.’

‘I’ll ask Cordelia,’ Lucie promised. ‘Have fun, in the meantime.’

She returned outside with two glasses of water, putting one on the table.

‘The boys have gone swimming,’ Lucie said. ‘Thomas said we were welcome to join once we’re done.’

‘Sure,’ Cordelia said. ‘Just let me finish.’

Cordelia went through a few more repeats of her training, and then transformed cortana back into its necklace form.

‘I get tired a lot sooner than you,’ Lucie admitted.

‘I can’t do magic,’ Cordelia said. ‘I have no idea how exhausting opening or closing a gateway is. I imagine it is a lot more work than simply swinging a sword.’

Lucie guessed perhaps that was true, magic ought to have some limitations. If not, then how could Cordelia’s ancestor have defeated the witch from Grace’ story? ‘I’m curious what else I can do. Grace said something about controlling the dead and making them fight, but that seems a bit unethical. Jessamine isn’t a fighter, and I’d never make her fight something on my behalf.’

‘It depends on the situation, I guess,’ Cordelia said. ‘We don’t know what it takes to stop Tatiana and save Thomas.’

‘No, but I do need to draw moral lines for myself,’ Lucie said. ‘I feel bad for that witch from the story, and I don’t want to end up like her. I don’t want us to become enemies.’

Cordelia took her hand. ‘I’ll never become your enemy, Lu.’

‘Then I guess I’ll have to stay on the safe side of that ethical line. I know how easy it can be, to have the end justify the means, but that’s something I’d rather save for my stories.’

#Lucie Herondale #Cordelia Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Alastair Carstairs #Jessamine Lovelace #Lucelia #Thomastair #fanfiction #the last hours #tlh

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livthedragon · 3 years

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Dream SMP Animal Rescue Center AU

The L’Manburg Animal Rescue Center (LARC) is a well-known institution dedicated to the well-being of all animals known to man. The facility receives animals from all over the world, and has staff fit for any creature that gallops, swims, flies, climbs, or runs into their care. With hundreds of acres of land at its disposal, the Rescue Center is equipped to care for animals that cannot be released back into the wild for as long as they may live. Come and visit with our season pass, or drop by anytime with admission tickets half off for the kids! Anyone 15 or older is welcome to come and volunteer their help towards these wonderful beings!

Alright, now that the official canon stuff is done, I’d like to make a few quick notes on pthis AU! First off, this was inspired by Dazenightmare’s Grocery store AU, so go check them out as well! If you have any idea or comments about this piece, the ask box is always open! Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and without further ado, I present my DreamSMP Animal Rescue Center AU!

-Liv💫

(P.s, I’ll be setting things up by showing the character’s official staff introductions first, and then my personal notes on them! This is how most things will be presented!)

Our Wonderful Staff!

Listed below is all of our fantastic employees, each with important and essential jobs to keep LARC running smoothly! If you ever need anything, they’ll be happy to help!

Even though they all have differing roles and places in the hierarchy, the staff have always been tight-knit friends, almost a family. But, like any family, they definitely have their spats! As I come to think of more stuff I might edit this, but so far the employees are Nihachu, Puffy, Eret, Philza, Fundy, Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, Quackity, Techno, Ranboo, Purpled, Ponk, Awesamdude, George, Dream, Sapnap, Bad, Skeppy, Karl, Hbomb, Jack, Jschlatt, Foolish, and Ant. (Official names for introductions are Niki, Cara, Eret, Phil, Floris, Wilbur, Tommy, Toby, Alex, Dave, Ranboo, Grayson, Ponk, Sam, George, Clay, Nick, Darryl, Zak, Karl, Liam, Jack, Johnathan, Noah, and Antfrost, in the same order as above. These are the real names of most of the characters, I couldn’t do the ones that haven’t done a name reveal. (I didn’t change Wilbur because it just did not feel right) If there’s a character you wanted to see that’s not here I’m sorry, it means I just don’t know enough about them. (I’m so sorry Punz fans, I’ll add him eventually but I’ve never watched him before and don’t want to improperly represent him!) The minors (Ranboo, Tommy, Tubbo, and Purpled) are technically volunteers and not employees, so they’ll be presented separately. I mention the Regulars (regular patrons) a couple times, these include other MCYTs! So keep an eye out for special appearances! Sadly, SBI is not canon in my AU. It just didn’t make much sense to me as I tried to write it, but if you want to interpret them as family you can! (They’re still very close, so they act just like a family even though they’re not related by blood!)

Clay - Clay is the manager of our facility, and has run it for 3 years now! He’s proven to be a capable and fun leader, and you can often find him wandering about with some other staff members! If you ever see him around, don’t be afraid to ask him for anything!

Dream - Since Dream is the founder and main leader of the SMP, making him the manager made the most sense! He kinda has two ‘settings’, his official business mode for when he needs to handle serious work, and his more chill mode he presents when he’s just hanging out with everyone. He’s never really pulled the ‘I’m your boss so listen to me blah blah’ thing before, he actually prefers to emphasize that he’s on the same level as anyone else, just with a fancy title. He’s only brought out his manager mode when it comes to his employees a few times before, like when one of Tommy’s pranks went too far, and when George was slacking off just a bit too much. Other than that, he’s a nice guy who considers all of his employees his friends, but he’s often busy with ‘manager things’ as he says.

George - Our trusty head of security, George is responsible for keeping our guests safe! He’s in charge of things like security cameras, patrols, and safety regulations regarding people. He’s often found manning the cameras or patrolling about! If you ever get lost or feel unsafe, he and the other security members are always ready to help!

George - He sleeps. A lot. When it says ‘often’ manning the cameras, that means always. Always manning the cameras, and 9 times out of 10 he’s sleeping. He patrols like, once a day for the bare minimum time purely because he has too. The only reason he isn’t fired at this point is because he has uncanny luck. Every time anything comes up that he’s needed in he’s always awake, without fail. Every time a crime (not really crimes more like petty stuff, vandalism and shoplifting from the souvenir stands) happens he always sees it. No one knows how, because he’s always sleeping anytime else. Despite that, he’s a pretty nice guy that everyone gets along with, and does his job good enough to keep people safe.

Nick, Sam, and Cara - Our loyal security guards, who faithfully patrol and protect! It”s their sworn duty to keep animals and people alike safe, and can always be turned to if needed! They can be found rotating between the different wings of the center, and are glad to help with any issue! You can easily identify their signature blue uniforms!

Sapnap - Since George is nearly always ‘occupied,’ Sap is usually the one who handles planning patrol routes and shift changes. Although he can definitely be mischievous or a jokester at times, he does take his job seriously. He’s kind to the little kids that visit, and likes to give them tours whenever Ponk and Eret are busy. He’s loved among the regulars, and knows them all by heart. He’s pulled his fair share of pranks (most often with Tommy, Skeppy, and even occasionally Dream to help him) but he takes care to not cause any serious damage. Overall, he’s a prankster, but he loves his job and fellow employees.

Sam - Although he’s officially a security guard, he’s more like the resident handyman. Whenever there’s a problem with any electrical or plumbing systems (usually the fault of Tubbo, the poor kid breaks everything he touches) Sam usually handles it. He’s reliable, he doesn’t pull jokes like Sapnap does, but he can respect a good one. Despite being rather intimidating at first, Sam is gentle and can often be found helping Ant with the birds or Wilbur with the gazelles. He cares deeply for everyone, especially Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Purpled, and helps protect people whenever a Karen comes into the picture. He’s the one who helps elderly people cross the busy paths and gives directions to lost tourists.

Puffy - When she was first hired, people wondered why she chose to be a security guard. She was gentle and kind, and tried to avoid any and all conflict. But when a group of teens were spray painting the reptile house, it became obvious. Those kids not only volunteered to clean it themselves, but asked if they could help clean up garbage around the paths while Puffy stood over their shoulders. She’s been famous for her lectures ever since, and can even get Techno and Tommy under her thumb. Her gentle side definitely helps, and because she’s far less intimidating than the other guards, she’s the one who helps lost kids find their parents. She’s confident in herself, and shows it. No one questions her while she’s on patrol, despite being the smallest of the guards, she’s one of the strongest.

Eret and Ponk - Our lovely tour guides, they’re in charge of all the tours around the facility, from the reptile room to the butterfly greenhouse! Whenever you book a tour, one of these two will be in charge! They’re kind and energetic, and can be found with the scheduled tours all over our institute!

Eret - Eret is the more comedic of the two, often slipping in sarcastic jokes here and there on the tour. He’s not afraid to hide who he is, and he’s well known among the regulars for wearing extravagant outfits every now and then. Of course you always have the occasional Karen, but the moment one starts to approach him one of the security guards ‘conveniently’ needs his help. Whenever there’s some sort of event like a holiday or birthday, Eret is usually the one who volunteers to plan it. His parties are legendary, everything is always planned to perfection, and always runs smoothly. No one knows how he does it, it’s like he can predict catastrophe before it even happens. Tommy is mildly scared of him because not one of his pranks has worked on him, he always manages to get out of it (While looking fabulous, of course!) Despite his sarcasm and nonchalant behavior, he loves his job and ‘family’ he’s found!

Ponk - Definitely the more energetic of the two, he never seems to run out of stamina when he gives tours. He’s popular with the little kids because he gives out little stickers at the end of the tour, most often custom ones of all the famous animals. Whenever he’s off duty, he has a game he plays where he mixes all of the vending machine drinks together and sees who’s brave enough to try it. Sam is usually the victim, he has a hard time saying no to him! He’s been known to join in the occasional prank here and there, but never anything crazy (Like the famous Tiger incident, Tommy got suspended for a month after that…) He really cares about all his friends, and always comes into work with a smile!

Zak and Darryl - Responsible for running the various shops around our rescue center, these two are dedicated workers who can always be relied on! They’re always willing to lend a hand, and can be found at their respective stores! Don’t be afraid to say hi or ask for help!

Skeppy - Most definitely cannot be always relied on. I mean, he’s Skeppy, what do you expect? Whenever he’s on duty he’s responsible enough, but when off duty he’s even more of a trouble maker than Tommy! His stand isn’t usually as busy as BBH’s, so he has a lot of free time to goof off. He uses most of that time to plan pranks or tease BBH, much to his annoyance. Despite Skeppy always teasing him, he considers BBH his closest friend and would do anything for him. He’s faced his fair share of consequences and punishment, but he’s always managed to weasel his way out. He’s crafty and a troublemaker, but he’s also a good friend and a loyal worker when it counts.

BBH - One of the most loved members of staff, he gets along with everyone he meets. He’s kind beyond measure, and never hesitates to help. Pretty much the opposite of Skeppy, who often annoys everyone. But opposites attract, maybe that’s why they get along so well! Whenever Sapnap and George are busy, Dream usually turns to BBH for help and advice. Since the stands aren’t busy all that often, BBH usually helps out wherever he’s needed, he especially loves helping Wilbur with the butterflies. Like Sapnap, he also gets along great with the little kids, who love to hang out with him! Because of Dream’s soft spot for him, he managed to get permission to bring his dog, Rat, into work to ‘help’ him at his stand.

Alex - Alex is our responsible janitor and handyman, always ready for anything that could happen! He’s hardworking and kind, with a good sense of humor! You’ll find him wherever he’s needed, always willing to help!

Quackity - Like I said, Sam is more of the resident handyman, so Quackity usually handles the cleaning. He tried to fix wiring on the meat freezer one time because Sam was busy, but it did not… end well… he somehow flooded the whole room. The introduction isn’t entirely wrong, he is responsible and hardworking, but he’s not exactly ready for anything that could happen. It’s not his fault, it just seems that no matter how much he prepares some new problem he’s never dealt with before comes up. Like when the peacocks escaped, or the infamous Tiger incident. (When he saw the destruction that caused he just dropped his mop and said “I’m taking my vacation time now, fuck this”) He still has his sense of humor though, he enjoys yelling at Karens in Spanish to scare them off. He’s yelling about the weather, but they can’t tell the difference.

Karl - Our fantastic admission worker, he’s the first face you see when you walk in! He’s in charge of admitting all of our guests, and to answer any questions you have before entering! He can be found at his booth helping anyone and everyone!

Karl - Still had his signature good attitude and positive outlook, he’s probably the most willing to help people. Since he’s the only admission booth worker (Schlatt occasionally takes over, but he’s usually busy with his own stuff) he doesn’t get much break time in the busy season, but when he does he usually spends it with his friends. He’s goofy and kind, with a giggle that quickly got him loved by the regulars and everyone else he meets. On the slower days, usually in winter when the tourists aren’t around, he likes to sit everyone down in the break room and tell grand stories about different points in history. These tales quickly became enjoyed by even the most reluctant members, much to his suprise. He’s a very skilled storyteller, but he’s also very humble and insists he’s mediocre. He’s a great guy and loved by everyone around him, the perfect first face to see when you enter LARC. Recently, however, people often catch him stealing glances at two certain individuals throughout the day…

Johnathan - Our loyal help desk worker, he’s here for any issues you may have during your time at LARC. He’s here for anything you need, from booking tours to answering questions. Johnathan is in charge of making sure your stay runs smoothly and is as enjoyable as possible! You can find him at his desk all throughout the day!

Jschlatt - I have no actual reason for why he has this job I just thought it would be funny. Out of all the members of the rescue center, he’s the one who’s mastered the customer service smile and voice the most. He’s kind of had to, considering what his job is. Surprisingly, it isn’t as hellish as it would seem. Most of the time it’s just people booking tours or asking simple questions, which doesn’t require that much interaction. Dealing with Karens is a rare occurrence, but not unheard of. He just hits them with the “Lady, I am not paid enough to deal with this. Either go talk to the manager or ask Karl for a refund, now at least move aside so I can do my damn job.” He has a lot of free time because of this, but he’s not allowed to leave his post so he just plays Solitare on his computer and chats with whoever’s nearby. Even though he’s sarcastic and reluctant, he is a good worker and gets the job done. He rarely shows it, if at all, but he does care for all of his fellow workers and enjoys his job because he gets to be around them.

Phil and Liam - Our specialized veterinarians are equipped for any animal that needs their care, from elephants to bats, scorpions to dolphins. They’re both capable and experienced, and can be found wherever they’re needed to do their jobs!

Philza - Definitely a capable vet, he’s probably people’s first choice when they need help. He’s worked at a few other places before LARC, but he insists that this is his permanent job until he retires. Although he tends to focus purely on work when on the clock, when he’s off duty he opens up a lot more. He enjoys out with everyone in the break room, most of all Wilbur, Tommy, Techno, and Ranboo. Sometimes his wife comes in to volunteer for a day, much to everyone’s enjoyment. Since Phil is the resident dad, she was named the official mom of LARC and was given a very fancy cardboard crown. Despite his reluctant behavior on the surface, he can be passionate at times… rarely. Very rarely. He once chugged one of Ponk’s concoctions from hell and walked away unscathed, mumbling “I drink more caffeine on my good days, try again with an extra 10 energy drinks mate.” Ponk has practically worshipped him since, no one had ever been able to take any of his drinks before Phil. Overall he’s a good natured guy who loves both animals and people, but tends to avoid the public paths because it’s so crowded.

Hbomb - More of Phil’s understudy than an official vet, he’s still learning quite a bit. That doesn’t mean he’s not capable, he’s great when he’s working on animals he’s familiar with or illnesses he’s dealt with dozens of times before. This is his first job as a veterinarian, and he found it quite overwhelming at first. Despite this, he quickly won over his fellow staff with his charm and humor. When asked who his best friend is, he jokingly answers “Fundy!” While Fundy violently shakes his head no in the background. He’s relatively carefree, but he can absolutely get serious when his skills are needed. He’s fine with not being the go-to guy to help with the animals, he’s content with helping Phil whenever he’s needed and sticking to the sidelines.

Niki - Our lovely Marine Biologist, she keeps the aquarium and other aquatic exhibits running smoothly. She’s an expert in her field, and we can go about our days knowing she has everything under control! She can be found most often in the aquarium, but keep an eye out for her around other exhibits!

Nihachu - Because the aquatic exhibits are the smallest and have the least amount of animals, Niki can usually run it smoothly. She’s passionate about her job, and has loved animals since she was very little. She originally joined LARC purely for experience, but as time went on she just… never left. She has no plans to either, she loves the strange family she’s found, and the constant flow of new animals keeps her on her toes when it comes to her passion. She never really wanted fame or riches from Marine Biology, she chose to do it because of her love for zoology. On her off time she usually hangs out with Puffy or Wilbur, since their jobs place them near her area. She’s a lovable and soft spoken, but can be serious when needed. She more than pulls her weight in LARC, and has proved herself many times over.

Dave - A spectacular zoologist who specializes in predators and their behavior, Dave handles even the most deadly of animals with calm mannership. He has experience with every apex predator, and treats every animal he cares for kindly. He may seem unapproachable, but he’s willing to help anyone who needs it. He can be found all around LARC, but most often by the big predators.

Technoblade - He has proved the statement “Technoblade never dies” many times over. Many. Times. Over. He’s faced bears head-on with no safety equipment (which is not good, please use safety equipment when around wild animals) and come out unscathed. All of the permanent predators at LARC that can’t be released have acknowledged him as an equal, and accepted him into their hierarchy. Even the most aggressive of the big cats hold respect for him, but not through fear. Techno refuses to ever, ever use fear as a tactic to win over animals. He claims it’s not right to rule over other beings through fear, especially such regal ones. He takes his job very seriously, and hates his interactions with animals interrupted. (Tommy did it once and he swears to never do it again.) He’s very skilled, but he often gets put aside when the inspector comes around every 6 months because of his refusal to use required equipment. He may still be as serious and no-nonsense as ever, but he holds his friends close. He doesn’t like to be in the public eye, so he stays as behind the scenes as possible. Like Jschaltt, he doesn’t show it much, but he cares for everyone in LARC.

Wilbur - The counterpart to Dave, Wilbur is our herbivore specialist at LARC! He’s responsible for the majority of the herbivores in our institute, from gazelles to horses! You can find him all around our facility, and if you’re lucky you might catch him feeding the animals!

Wilbur - He’s the opposite of Techno in a lot of ways besides just his job. Will actually likes to be in front of a crowd when doing his job, and even got Dream to add an official feeding time for the popular animals so people could come see. His intentions aren’t vanity though, he just likes seeing how happy it makes everyone. Because he cares for the majority of the animals at LARC, he can often be found with Phil and the other animal caretakers. He’s especially close to Phil and Tommy though, and Tommy often finds ways to change his schedule to be closer to him. (Tubbo usually follows Tommy, and then Ranboo follows Tubbo, it’s a whole chain reaction.) On his off time he occasionally causes mischief with other staff, but he’s chill most of the time. He cares a lot about all of the animals he cares for, and makes sure to form a bond with each and every one. Every now and then he brings his guitar to work, and can be found quietly strumming it and humming along in secluded places. Sometimes he even plays it in front of the animals, much to their confused enjoyment. He might be carefree most of the time, but he takes his work seriously and has a close bond with everyone at LARC.

Floris - Floris is our resident field specialist, here to use his experience to help wherever he can! He’s often one of the first to see new animals or release old ones, and always does it with a smile on his face! You don’t see him as often as the other animal caretakers, but he can be found throughout LARC!

Fundy - He’s been all over the globe since he graduated, since he got to study under a rather eccentric zoologist. No one knows why he decided to work at LARC and not somewhere more recognized, but they’re not complaining. Whenever he’s on break, he likes to retail all of his adventures in a dramatic manner, but no one knows if they’re true stories or not. Sometimes he shows proof of his escapades, but most of the time he leaves it up to everyone to decide for themselves. But whether his stories are true or not, he definitely has the experience of someone who’s travelled the world. No matter the animal, he seems to know how to predict their behavior perfectly. He’s as excitable and loud as ever, but he loves his job and all the creatures he’s gotten to work with. Oftentimes he’s in charge of keeping tabs on animal behavior, so he’s the first to note when something changes or goes wrong. He has journals full of notes on different animals, both from LARC and his time traveling. He’s definitely passionate and dramatic, but he’s also a good guy that just wants to help animals.

Antfrost - A fantastic mammalogist, he’s been at LARC for a few years now and has proven himself as a great scientist. He knows how to deal with a variety of mammals, from the tiniest bumblebee bats to the biggest elephants! If you ever have any questions, feel free to ask him!

Ant - Like Niki, this is his first real job in zoology. He was out in the field for about a year and a half, but he was basically an errand boy for the bigger names he was working with. That’s not to say he’s not skilled though, he’s fantastic at what he does. He often asks Fundy for his notes on the various animals to get to know them better himself, and has read the majority of his journals. He was timid around everyone at first, but he gradually got close to his fellow staff. It was the same when it came to big animals, Wilbur had to help him during his first time with the elephants, giraffes, and other large mammals. But soon he got used to them, and now he spends most of his time with animals. He has no plans to leave LARC, he’s found that this job is more than enough to keep him busy and happy. He’s a bit shy, but when he opens up he enjoys being around everyone.

Jack and Noah - These two, although not often seen, and essential for keeping everything running like a well-oiled machine! From lending a hand wherever it’s needed to helping prepare food, Jack and Noah work tirelessly behind the scenes to make sure everything is a-ok! If you ever do spot them, they’re ready to help with whatever you need!

Jack - The more experienced of the two, he’s been working at LARC for a long time now. He can be mischievous at times, but he’s responsible and knows his job is important. He struggles a bit to be close to everyone, despite the fact he’s been at LARC for a long time. He’s acquainted with most of the staff, but he’s not sure if he can really call anyone a close friend. He does have a good relationship with Tommy and Niki, but they always have so much going on and often overlook Jack. He grins and bears it though, keeping his loud and comedic attitude. He’s often all business and work, but there are times he wishes he could just be friends with everyone, and envies the very social members of staff like Quackity and Tommy. He may be a bit distant from everyone, but he still gets along with them… at least that’s what he always tells himself. He’s a bit stubborn, but overall a good guy who’s willing to help

Foolish - Foolish has only been working at LARC for a few months now, but he’s already made quite a few friends, both animal and human. When he’s working he tends to stick to himself, but when on break he enjoys hanging out with others and having casual conversation. He actually has a little corner of the break room for his hobby, making mini-models! He’s very good at it too, he has an intricate Egyptian setup that everyone likes to ogle at every now and then! Every so often he stays after for a bit to work on them, and no one has the heart to disturb him when he gets into it. He spends a lot of time with the animals, especially the aquatic ones. He seems to be drawn to the aquarium, and he’s often caught staring at the ocean tank. He’s positive and high energy most of the time, but he’s not to be underestimated.

Our Volunteers!

Volunteering is open for anyone interested in working at LARC non-officially, as long as you follow our rules and are 15 or older! Our current volunteers are

Toby

Tommy

Grayson

Ranboo

This is subject to change at any time! If you’re interested in signing up to be a volunteer, contact us either through our official website or our in-person help desk!

Volunteers aren’t allowed to be up close to any of the large or dangerous animals for their own safety!

We hope to see new volunteers soon!

Tubbo - He breaks. Everything he touches. Much to Quackity’s dismay, who’s often stuck cleaning it up. He doesn’t mean to break things, he just… does. Despite being quiet and even shy at times, Tubbo is without a doubt the most chaotic person in the entirety of LARC. He doesn’t pull off jokes or pranks like Tommy and Skeppy, he just subtly radiates chaos wherever he goes. He and Tommy are in charge of helping the westward wing (The area with the Africa, North America, and Insect House exhibits, as far away from the Aquarium as possible because Tubbo will break everything) and occasionally the Reptile House. A volunteer’s work isn’t exactly exciting, they mainly cut up and prepare food and do whatever Jack and Foolish are too busy to. Tubbo doesn’t really mind though, he finds the work rewarding and even fun at times. Even when the food he has to prepare is especially gross, some time helping Wilbur with the beehives always makes him happy.

Tommy - Oh man, Tommy… what problems hasn’t he caused? It seems that everywhere he goes he can manage to cause trouble, often roping Tubbo and Wilbur into it. It’s a miracle he hasn’t been fired yet (can you fire a volunteer? I don’t know) despite everything he’s done. He did get suspended for a long time after the Tiger Incident, but that’s the worst punishment he’s faced. He’s also not allowed to be near any of the people that come to LARC because last time he went “Vlogging” and scared away multiple guests. That was Jschaltt’s busiest day and he still has not forgiven him for it. He’s often stuck behind the scenes with Tubbo preparing food, but every now and then Wilbur, or even Techno if he’s lucky, lets him help feed the animals. When he’s off duty he can be found pestering Wilbur, Phil, and Techno or getting yelled at by Dream for causing problems. Despite being nothing but a troublemaker, everyone around him can’t help but have a soft spot for him. And on rare occasions, you can catch him leaving gifts for people to show his thanks for dealing with him.

Purpled - Probably the most laid back of the Volunteers, he’s actually allowed within 40 feet of the Tiger enclosure. (Although he has been known to solve problems by chasing people with a foam sword and yelling “Bedwars!!”) Since Tommy and Tubbo are usually on food duty, Purpled’s the one who delivers stuff to various places around LARC. This results in two things, no one ever being able to find him when they need him and him randomly appearing behind people when they least expect it. Seriously, he’ll just appear out of thin air to scare the shit out of you 5 minutes after you need him. He doesn’t even try to do it, he just… does, somehow. He’s a good worker though, and doesn’t complain much. He somehow managed to convince Dream to get an Xbox for the break room, and every break he gets he challenges random members of staff to a game of bedwars. He beat almost everyone without a hitch, except Technoblade. Currently they’re tied at 38 wins each, and Ranboo brought in a whiteboard to keep track. He may be a bit reluctant, but he likes LARC and can’t see himself leaving anytime soon.

Ranboo - Probably the most shy of the Volunteers, he tends to keep to the background and avoids the big, public areas. Because he’s the gentlest (and the most trustworthy) of the helping staff, he’s usually the one who gets the jobs involving animals. This usually includes helping Niki give the ducklings baths and feeding the deer with Wilbur, but like it says he’s not allowed near any potentially dangerous animals. He’s the tallest person at LARC (but by far the kindest) which results in him often scaring the animals at first, much to his dismay. Because he’s also on the taller side, Wilbur taught him a few tricks to seem less intimidating, which helped greatly. When he does open up a bit (usually around Tommy and Tubbo) he can be a bit mischievous and chaotic, but he knows when to stop. He hopes to become an official member of LARC one day, but for now he’s content with being just a volunteer.

Remember, LARC always welcomes guests, new or returning! We hope to see you soon!

Thank you guys so much for reading, this AU took me waaayyyyyy too long to write, and I’m psyched to finally have it done! I’d be super happy to answer any asks you guys leave, or any questions you have in the comments! Again, thank you so much, and I hope you enjoyed!

-Liv 💫

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anntoldst0ries · 3 years

Text

Queen’s Gambit (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC Word Count: 972 Rating: K+ Summary: It’s game time, and both players are equally competitive. Category: Fluff Warnings: None!

A/N: Having watched ‘Queen’s Gambit’ on Netflix, I had a struck of inspiration and created this sweet and short fic, which I hope you guys will enjoy as much as I enjoyed writing it! The story also uses one of my personal experiences - if you read it, you’re going to know which one :) I also have a dedicated Picta edit for this fic, which will be posted tomorrow.

Much love 💜 💜 💜 💜

“Hey, is everything ok?” The genuine worry in his voice made her heart skip a beat. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to make sure this isn't a dream, that Ethan Ramsey actually has a softer side and for some mysterious reason, she's the only one who can bring it out.

The question wasn’t exactly irrational. She’s been sitting in the same position for some time now, her eyes widened. That’s how Ethan found her.

“This was amazing.” Her finger pointed towards the screen, her gaze completely still. “The best show I’ve ever seen.”

Ethan chuckled inwardly. She was unbelievable.

“You say exactly the same thing after every show you watched on Netflix.”

She sent him a murderous look.

“Want to tell me about it?” Thank God he came up with the damage recovery line quickly.

“I have a better idea, actually.” She jumped off of the bed, suddenly reinvigorated. “Do you have a chess board?”

“Chess board? You don’t mean cheese board, right?”

This remark earned him murderous look number 2. One more and he’ll be spending the night on the terrace.

“Yeah, I do. It should be in the spare room, on the bookcase, upper shelves. Do you want me to find it?”

“I’ll manage just fine.”

2 minutes later, she emerged from the room, holding the heavy chess board triumphantly. Having set it on the dining table, she took all the figures out carefully, admiring the sophisticated craftsmanship of the marble objects.

“How beautiful, Ethan.”

“Indeed.”

Had she not been staring at the chess set, she would have known that they meant completely different things. The older doctor was transfixed on her face, eyes sparkling with excitement and the glow that he only saw when they were together.

“I want to play.”

“Why are we playing chess all of a sudden?”

“The show I’ve just finished watching, it’s called The Queen’s Gambit and the main character, Beth, is this genius chess player.”

“I suppose that’s better than the previous one, after which you wanted me to call you ‘my lady’ for a week and bow down instead of saying ‘Hi’.”

“Bridgerton? I am less than impressed by the lack of appropriate manners, my lord. And now, shall we indulge in the ancient game of chess?”

“Do you know how to play?”

“I think I do, but my memory needs refreshing. After all, I am not dating Edenbrook’s best teacher for nothing, right?”

“Suddenly you are not questioning my teaching methods?”

“I never questioned them, Ethan. I have my opinion on them, but I don’t question them. That’s a difference.”

The older doctor set the board up for them, giving her the advantage of playing with the white pieces. Then, ever so patiently and slowly, he ran through the basics with her, starting from the checkmate and finishing on each piece’s movements.

I could listen to him explain the vacuum cleaner user manual and I’d never get bored, she thought to herself whilst trying to decide whether to focus on the words or the movements of his tempting lips.

“This is the rook.” He picked the piece up. “It can move any number of vacant squares horizontally or vertically. The rook also takes part in castling, which I will explain in a minu—“

“Rookie!”

“What?��

“This” - she took the black piece from his palm - “is a rookie.”

“It’s called a rook.”

“Well, I will call it a rookie, if you don’t mind.”

“You are impossible.” He tried to sound serious but stifled a laugh, unsuccessfully.

“Plus, it sort of makes sense, because I also move horizontally and vertically - and always towards the king.” She winked and this playful gesture made him smile. But only for a short while. A few seconds later, his expression changed drastically - it was now laser focused.

“Let the game begin.” The hoarse tone of his voice made her quake, she knew that competitive Ethan Ramsey mode was on. It was so on.

1 HOUR LATER

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, Dr. Ramsey, but I believe that if I do this” - she picked a piece and hovered it over the board for a moment, before lowering it down painfully slowly - “and play bishop to f5, we have a checkmate?”

His puzzled expression said it all.

“And this, ladies and gentlemen, means our world famous diagnostician has 1 win and 2 defeats on his account.” - she said in the announcer style.

“Beginner’s luck. I demand a rematch.”

“Fine with me. But before you do enter a rematch, I’ll give you three lessons, Dr. Ramsey. First of all, you can’t leave the kingside so exposed, it puts you in a very vulnerable position.” She wished she had a camera to hand, to capture all the amazing grimaces his face was unable to hide.

“Second of all, if that’s how you want to lead your defence, you may want to consider one of the Italian Game variations next time. Like this.” She started moving the pieces around the board skilfully and his jaw literally dropped.

“Last, but not least.” She was now staring directly into his blue irises. “Don’t feel bad about the defeat, you’ve just lost to former junior San Francisco county champion. And you fought hard.”

“I…what? Who?”

“Yours truly.” She pointed the thumbs at herself and smiled gracefully.

“You are pulling my leg.”

“Nope. Call my dad or ask him next time when we’re visiting.”

Damn it. She played him like a fiddle.

Which was, pretty much, the summary of their whole relationship in one sentence.

“Well… that changes everything, Valentine.” He grinned widely.

“What do you mean?”

“I was going easy on you but now that I know who I’m dealing with… I won’t hold back.”

“Alright.” The younger doctor put both of her elbows firmly on the table and interlaced her fingers, gently resting her chin on them. Then, piercing his gaze, she whispered:

“Let’s play.”

If you made it this far, I’m giving you all my love - thanks for reading my rambling 💫💫🙏🏼

#open heart #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfiction #pixelberry

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

Thoughts on the Shadow's Doppelganger, Lamont Cranston

The funny thing about Cranston in the original stories is that, yeah, one of the most famous scenes across all Shadow media is the “Lamont Cranston Talks to Himself” chapter in The Shadow Laughs, where we learn that The Shadow is not Lamont Cranston, but has usurped his identity, and now shows up at his bedside looking like him, talking like him, knowing more about his own life than he himself does, and ordering him to leave town, effectively blackmailing him into letting him use his face. It’s a very iconic scene that exemplifies a lot of what makes The Shadow unique as a character, and you can imagine why so many adaptations have gone with the idea of Cranston being either a hapless stooge bullied into submission, or an actual villain, because that whole scene is very much a horror movie scenario.

Thing is, none of them seem to remember how Cranston and The Shadow’s relationship developed past this. I’ll post this excerpt from Atoms of Death:

"Good morning, Cranston," came a quiet tone from the foot of the bed.

"Good morning, yourself," returned Cranston, rubbing his eyes without noticing the visitor.

"You should say: Good morning, myself," chuckled The Shadow, dryly.

Cranston was pulling down the sleeves of his pajama jacket. He sat bolt upright, staring. Then a slow smile showed on his lips; one that was almost a replica of The Shadow's.

"So it's you," remarked Cranston, sleepily. "Well, I knew that last night. It was about time we crossed paths again. Well, old man, you landed me in for plenty this trip."

Cranston shoved bedclothes aside and perched on the edge of the bed. He found cigarettes on the telephone table; The Shadow supplied a flame from a lighter before Cranston could ignite a match. The millionaire noted that The Shadow's lighter bore the initials "L. C."

"You handle every detail, don't you?" questioned Cranston in admiration. “Jove! I remember the first time I met you. In this very room. You dropped cloak and hat and left me looking at my own face as plainly as if I had seen it in a mirror. Just as it is today."

"And I advised you," recalled The Shadow, in Cranston's own tone, "to take a trip abroad, while I used your identity. You were a bit exasperated at first."

"I must admit that I was. I threatened to have you arrested, as an impostor, until you proved that you knew more about my affairs than I did. I really believe that if it had come to a showdown, I would have been proven the impostor and you the genuine Lamont Cranston. Jove!"

"Jove," repeated The Shadow, quietly, "You have acquired that expression recently, Cranston. I shall remember it for future reference. You have a penchant for acquiring anglicisms during your sojourns in British colonies. Jove!"

"Bounder and blighter," laughed Cranston. "Don't forget those. I still use them occasionally."

Or this excerpt from The Hydra, which is an incredible book where the chemistry between the two really shines:

Lamont Cranston woke up and wondered why his head still whirled. It took him about half a minute to learn that the motion came from the fact he was riding in his limousine. Someone must have put him back in the limousine and Stanley was driving him home.

He didn't have to guess who had helped him on his way, for at that moment Cranston heard a low-toned laugh beside him. He turned to see the black-cloaked figure of The Shadow.

"What did you hit me with?" asked Cranston. "All four of your automatics?"

"I'm only carrying a pair tonight," replied The Shadow

Look at these two dorks, just palling around and getting into shenanigans and The Shadow outright joking around Cranston, like they are just two old chums having a laugh at the weirdness of their lives. The “real” Cranston didn’t show up very often in the original stories, especially in the last stories when Lamont Cranston essentially became the real identity of The Shadow, but when he did, part of what makes him stand out as his own character is that he’s funny. Gibson gets a lot of mileage out of Cranston as this guy who is completely nonchalant and chill about all the weird shit that happens to him, even in The Hydra after he kills a man with an elephant gun, he’s still more or less the same, he largely just walks out of it with a newfound realization.

Relieving Cranston of the elephant gun, The Shadow steered his friend into the closet. Hauling the big weapon with him, The Shadow opened the door to meet and dismiss arriving servants who had dashed upstairs when they felt the house quake.

"Whenever I see this gun," began Cranston, coming from the closet, "I'll remember what I did with it -"

“Quite right," interposed The Shadow approvingly. "What you did to Mance will make amends for any elephants you may have killed. Too bad Mance didn't bring along a few more Hydra Heads.”

Slowly, understanding dawned on Cranston. He'd never compared his big-game hunts with The Shadow's quests for men of crime. He felt that The Shadow's cause was justified, but it had seemed outside the field of sport. It still was, but Cranston, now that he had dealt with a murderer who deserved to die, was realizing that his game hunts were more deserving of rebuke.

His encounters with The Shadow gradually changed Cranston from a useless millionaire wasting his resources and talents on idle pursuits, to...still largely a useless millionaire, except his resources and talents are no longer wasted and he’s gradually grown into a useful ally and friend to The Shadow. The Shadow tends to have that effect on people who work by his side and even Cranston, the guy whose main role in his organization is to just stay away and be useless somewhere else, can’t help but change a little into a better person when he appears.

There’s an interesting article written by Bob Sampson called “The Third Shadow” which refers to the Bruce Elliot run of The Shadow Magazine, which is incredibly maligned by fans and not without reason, the stories all largely suck and the Shadow bears little resemblance to his former self, instead mostly feeling like a diet take on the radio show Lamont, more of an average detective. The theory Sampson puts out is that, during this period, it was actually Lamont Cranston who became active as The Shadow while Allard was busy overseas, and I definitely like this theory. It makes sense specially considering The Hydra sets up for Cranston to become more pro-active and serious:

While not the towering master-mind of Allard, he does become the next best thing: A post-war sleuth. He even indulges in wearing the cloak and slouch hat from time to time (to varying degrees of effectiveness), while trying to laugh like Allard (also to varying degrees of effectiveness) as if to fulfill that forbidden fantasy until he finally gets it out of his system. After all, The Shadow pretended to be him, why not the other way around?

As Bob Sampson put it: “It is always Cranston who explains all and takes the credit”.

Probably very cathartic for Lamont, who for the last 18 years was relegated to being a distant supporting player in his own life. Cranston is still in contact with the agents however. He even receives "assignments" from Burbank.

This entire arrangement could only be with The Shadow's tacit approval. Let us remember, Cranston was not merely some insipid fop. He certainly had done his own share of exploring and was indeed a hunter. He could handle a variety of firearms, was familiar with exotic peoples and their customs, knew how to stalk dangerous animals through the jungle and veldt, but he was not, nor ever claimed to be, a master secret-agent and soldier.

I think it is fitting that the writing is completely different for this period as well. Not the enigmatic journalistic style of Allards exploits, but the witty, modern champagne fizz of Cranston's odyssey in a Post-War world. He feels a full range of emotions. In the Gibson stories, The Shadow is at arms length. In the Elliott stories, Cranston is sitting right next to you on a train or an airplane or roadster.

It’s also interesting to consider how Lamont Cranston has basically become the true name of The Shadow in pop culture. Often times it’s the name people use when they specifically want to reference The Shadow, the supposed “Ghost of Gay Street” hauntings in Gibson’s former apartment took the form of Lamont Cranston, and even in the stories, more and more people became aware of it as the years went by (which also helps reinforce the idea that the “real” Cranston eventually took to acting as a fill-in for The Shadow, to draw attention away from the real Shadow’s operations), and Gibson even mentioned a few times that Cranston was The Shadow’s “favorite” identity along with Arnaud. Which is kinda fascinating to think about and does hint at some weird underlying aspects of The Shadow’s psyche, that his favorite identity is one not his own.

And at last, there’s these passages from The Whispering Eyes, a book that does not mention Allard once, and the very last Shadow novel:

From beneath the seat he was taking his black garb. Cloaked and hatted as he stepped from the cab, Cranston merged immediately with the darkness. He had become The Shadow.

Cranston's switch to his other self could well be attributed to a hypnotic mood. The mental lapses produced through hypnosis were the sort that would often cause a subject to revert to habit. Now, as The Shadow, Cranston was still in what might be termed a haphazard mood. He was skirting through darkness, pausing, changing direction, behaving generally as though avoiding something that did not exist.

Lang had flung away his glasses; his eyes now showed the shining, hypnotic force that the lenses normally softened. He recognized the eyes that met his above a leveled gun muzzle.

The Shadow's eyes, yet strangely Cranston's, for this was one time The Shadow did not care to disguise them.

Which begs the question: Did Cranston succeed in fully becoming The Shadow? Or did The Shadow succeed in fully becoming Cranston?

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #the shadow #lamont cranston

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streets-in-paradise · 4 years

Text

Let’s talk about the amazingly on spot social commentary on The Boys

Warning: This post contains spoilers from Season 1 and the first three episodes of season 2 of The Boys

Tags: @nehoymenyoy asked to be tagged. I don’t know if my tags are working well but if they don’t i will send you the link of the post.

I decided to make this post because i finished all the avaliable episodes of the series two days ago and, having a long talk with my sister about this topic, i tought this is too awesome to not discuss it here. We are both studying in careers of the social field, i'm in sociology and she is in social work. We watched the show together and talking with her inspired my own ideas i would like to share here.

This show was a wonderfull surprise in terms of social commentary. I haven't watched one with such a great commentary since American Gods. In that case i was expecting some degree of progressive commentary because i had read the book previously and i was aware the source material had some, the one added for the series is even better and it was great, but it wasn't a shock to find it. For The Boys i haven't read the comics first and , even when i loved the show for lots of reasons, the amazing on spot social commentary was a hell of a surprise. I have been frustrated lately in terms of the messages in entertaiment products because, even when there is a lot of intention for part of the makers to make more progressive points in their stuff, everything becomes bland marketing to me most of the time. I remember that some years ago media used to came out unintentionally with some really cool progressive messages ( like, for example, " a bug's life" and its anti capitalist message). That stuff seemed soo genuine and today i feel that everytime a product targets my demographic in that sense what they deliver it's soo bland and fake that the progressive intention of the message gets lost in the absolutely obvious intention of selling something to me using my ideals as catch. Precisely this is an important point of critic in this show. I didn't expected at all to get a genuine feeling in the social commentary of a superhero show. I'm not saying that this means i think the makers believe in this (after all, it's amazon), what i praise here is how good they did it. In a time when most productions claim to have a social commentary behind to come out as cool but result in shallow fake bullshit this series has provided me with something that feels autentic. Like American Gods, what i feel the show is trying to tell me actually gets me.

Before starting with the proper talk i want to dedicate a few línes to recommend a few scenes of the show i just mentioned. I was super dissapointed after finding out they will probably end up turning it into more bland fake bullshit for season 3 but, to anyone who likes well delivered social commentary, check on Orlando Jones's scenes as Anansi. He is my favourite character from the show and all his scenes are a blessing.

I would also want to clarify that this post and the opinions displayed on it are from an anti capitalist, intersectional feminist and latin american perspective. I know the show is very american, the issues it discusses are most of the time worlwide but it has particularities of the american context so i will try to talk only of what i feel i know enough to have a word. I'm argentinian and we have our local versions of some of this problems but i will stay in the series territory trying to be as faithfull as i can to the american reality it gets inspiration from. Also, forgive me for any mistakes on my writing and expresions. English is not my native language.

Superheros are modern mythology. How would this work in real life?

This is the basic premise of the show’s worldbuilding. The great thing is that this concept is not developed in an edgy, pretentious way. It is serious and painfully real because it’s not only a subversion of tropes, it says a lot of what superheros are to us as a modern times myth. In a superficial view, the world of The Boys feels like what the MCU could have become after the Sokovia accords if they would have been efficiently followed on a worldwide scale.

In that particular universe i use as reference, our superheros are noble and morally heroic individuals.State intervention is the factor threatening to corrupt their actions making them follow the interests of the system. The risk there, along with some very shady violations of human rights to powered people, is having superheros tied to something as unstable as political power. You can fear, for example, what a Trump-like president could do if he had power over the Avengers because, again, the heros are not corrupt, their line of command is. Now, if we strip away all the idealization we had putted on this bunch of powered persons and see them as what they truly are at the end of the day, people like everyone else. Why are we supposed to believe they are immune to corruption? If we also consider the phenomenon of strong privatization of security that has been growing worldwide . Wouldn’t they be more like security workers working for a private contractor? Less like heros and more like private military / security officers? Now, this is what we are talking about.

What feels so different from this show is that it assumes a surprisingly realistic point of view on a modern fantasy we are very used to consuming and still constructs a new power fantasy that empowers the viewer. I’ m saying this as an MCU fan, I had grown too comfortable with this optimistic fantasy and this twist from it is brilliant. To put some context on what i want to say here i will try to explain myself first on why i think that superhero fiction have this enormous popularity today and it has become such a huge thing in entertainment. Besides of the obvious reason of big companies producing big exciting action blockbusters for the genre, it’s curious to think on how much these stories gathered a lot of progressive audiences. In past decades action blockbusters didn’t felt progressive, today’s superhero blockbusters were embraced by progressive audiences and this was the start of a twist in general for the media. I think that there is a contextual social reason for this, not the only factor but one i feel is considerable.

Late Stage Capitalism crushed us, we are so used to injustice and the control the system has over us is so big that we have slowly stopped dreaming of changing it ourselves. Instead, the fantasy of a superhuman who has the power we don’t have saving us from oppression feels really comforting. Captain America becoming such a huge icon in the middle of a time where extreme facism is rising again all over the world, for example. I don’t know much about his comic counterpart but, at least from what i see in the movies, Steve’s ideals feel to me like all those aspects from French Revolution’s Enlightenment that capitalism dropped away once bourgeois defeated their feudal rivals and capitalism got consolidated, the freedom and equality that feudal lower classes fought for. Today, we feel too small to make a difference so we enjoy the fantasy of powerful persons leading the fight for us. Capitalism feels more unstoppable than ever, it is the only thing who seems strong to remain in a terribly chaotic world. The suffering this cruel system brings to this world is overwhelming, we feel only a miracle can save us now. This is what feeds the narrative of the superhero as modern myth and saviour of humanity.

The Boys tosses aside all our hopes and dreams, presenting us with the most realistic escenario. Superheros are not the miracle we are waiting for, they are humans like everyone else. They are not sacred entities existing beyond our societies, they are part of the system and they insert on it as part of the security industries. They can be corrupted and they work in corrupt institutions in benefit of the ruling class like every other security provider in capitalist societies. They become a new face of the security forces in constant tension with police and military because the myth of the superhero provides them with the public trust those other two forces lost. People lost their trust in cops but they trust sups because they are supposed to be this noble individuals mobilized by their personal feelings of injustice trying to make the world a better place … right? Police are the forces of the ruling class but superheros are supposed to be with us, or at least this is what common sense and propaganda claim, having our hopes as a base to work on.

For someone so used to the typical superhero fantasy this felt like a slap on my face back to reality. It soo accurate , the system tends to capture any revolutionary input and turn it into profit. Even if the sups could had been a revolutionary factor at the beginning, the most likely thing to happen is for them to become a profitable industry. If we add to this what we already know of the actions of police and military in our real world we have a combo for disaster. The realistic twist is so fresh and painfully real, i can totally see this happening in real life if superheros were a thing.

We have already introduced ourselves in the world of this story, let’s check on the first main character this series introduces to us. Hughie Campbell, a college age guy who works in an electronics store, lives with his dad and has the most boring average life you can imagine. This guy who is too afraid to ask his boss for a pay raise changes overnight when a superhero kills his girlfriend in front of him and the big corporation the asshole works for covers up the whole thing. The “average guy becomes a hero” trope is not new at all, but the use it has here feels fresh because it is not there only to feed the male geek power fantasy. Hughie is not a geeky average guy only so geeky average guys can identify with him in an action series full of geeky references,he is not there to be the nerdy guy from Robot Chicken. Hughie’s characterization makes a point for everyone. The smallest most unimportant person, the one who can't even stand up for themselves in everyday situations, can make a change. Remember Samwise Gamgee fighting Shelob in Lord of the Rings? Hughie killing Translucent gives me that vibe. If we consider the point i already stated about superheroes being there when we feel too small to fight back injustice, this is the exact opposite. This is a fantasy that gives us the power, makes us think in our own strengths. Hughie is standing up for himself for the first time in his life and he inspires us to fight for our rights.

Pharmaceutical,Security and Entertainment industries and their business system : Superheros as lab rats,elite security forces and celebrities.

This part of the post is the hardest to write and the most exquisite. There is so much to talk about about this system Vought shaped tying these three billionaire industries together. The first thing i want to mention, as a point to start, is Butcher’s ramble over the teddy bear with a camera inside in his meeting with Hughie. Perfect introduction for the character with a delightful moment of commentary. In our current societies people live in constant fear for hundreds of reasons. Fears over street crime had skyrocketed all over the world even when crime is not growing uniformly in every country and that accelerated the privatization of security, fears of parents over the strangers they leave they kids with when they are not home inspired products like the one mentioned in the series’s moment, fears on the effects of processed foods are an impulse for the diet industry and i could keep naming lots of other examples. Fears, and the emotional response they trigger , are the base of profitable businesses.

I had been reading some authors that describe this stage of capitalism as an emotional one. Capitalism preached science and rationality during the past century but today its base of support is an emotional one. To excite the sensations of the people as consumers, to eliminate rational criticism, to push anti popular agendas through emotional excitement and mass hysteria. To cite another example that you can consider bounded to the series, Right Realism in Criminology is now almost common sense and there are people who keep asking for harsher punitive systems. This ideology, with the help of media panic, goes straight after their feelings and fears of being victims of violent crimes. Rational thinking is not the area of discussion, the base of the argument is on fear and pain. Fear of being potential victims, pain shared with the victims thinking in solutions that sound more like revenge than justice.

Going back to my point, in the world of The Boys this type of punitivism seems to have succeeded even in a greater way than in our current world because it has superheros as backup. If real life harsh punitivism feeds on fear and a wish for social revenge, in this world it has the positive emotions supes inspire on people as a trust certificate for the persons who may not feel that way. They are loved and worshipped celebrities, their faces are everywhere, they have thousands of fans… who would see flaws in what they do? Can you imagine a world in which we worshipped cops and soldiers like we worship celebrities? This is it, people put their blind faith in them because most of them seem to be their fans. Even the people who are against brutality in the actions of security forces would end up trusting them because they are famous people. Our culture has taught us to make ourselves blind to the bullshit we see on the celebrities we love. Fans have a strong emotional attachment to their favourite celebs and this can turn into emotional manipulation in this context. If actors or singers in real life can have a fanbase that forgets to see them as human people how would these actual superhumans not end up being worshipped as gods?

There has always been military propaganda in entertainment but this marriage between the industries through superheros is far more sinister than that. It makes you think about the unfair amount of credibility we put in celebrities. The plane crash scene of Homelander and Maeve it’s even more devastating looking at it from that perspective. Those persons had their full trust in them and they were safer with the terrorists. Can you imagine being a Homelander fan and dying there? That’s horrible, the last thing you get in your life is the biggest disappointment ever from someone you trusted and stanned.

Speaking of Homelander, he is a right wing wet dream and one of the best villians i had ever seen, he makes me feel sick with how fucking despicable he is. His character is an excellent point to start the ramble on the third wheel of this corporate nightmare. Superheros are products of the pharmaceutical industry, injected with a drug since they were babies. In his particular case, he was raised like a lab rat and the series is realistic even in this detail. The lab rat kid with superpowers is another common trope that we see pretty often and here it also gets twisted. I’m thinking for example on Eleven from Stranger Things, she has been raised by abusive scientists who treated her as an experiment, yet she is this sweet kiddo who has a hard time socializing. Instead, Homelander is a monster without conscience or mercy and seems to be severely affected by his abnormal childhood. Brilliant, he is the ultimate product of this corporative triangle and depicts everything that's wrong with it.

The cycle is pretty clear: drugs create them, they play their role in security and their media notoriety justifies their actions. As it is shown in season one, the security aspect of the corporate complex represented mostly in Homelander’s actions craves to grow bigger and get supes into the military since, in the startpoint of the series, they only work with cops. Since the industry feeds on fear and Vought seems to have a monopoly in the production of powered persons there were no threats big enough to justify the intervention of superhumans in wars. Dismissing the importance of this monopoly for the company, Homelander suministrates the drug to terrorist groups in an attempt to create the first super villains. This is a perfect analogy of how the american war machine works. There is no way for terrorist groups from Third World countries to get access to sophisticated war technology without help from the ones who wield that power better than anyone. The first mentions of the supe terrorists reminded me of when i was in my course of worldwide history in college and i learned there how most of those famous names in middle eastern terrorism were actually friends with the CIA before at some point. Here in South America we have other history regarding the style of USA intervention, the Plan Condor dictatorships in the 70’s and early 80’s. I was just starting my career when I had a month of history classes about the Middle East and, being pretty ignorant on the matter, it shocked me the way in which the US villainized people they used to work with. I think the series makes a great point with this part of the plot because it hints something of this war mechanics.

Gender politics of the series: a surprisingly complex approach on the topic of sexual assault ,a realistic critic to bland white feminism and the empty cashgrabbing ways in which mainstream media adapts feminist discourse.

This topic was even a bigger surprise for me. I wasn't expecting such an interesting approach of gender issues, mostly because this is the area in which media wannabe woke messages had become more dissapointing to me lately. Specially in a show about superheros, i wasn't expecting to get very interesting points.

I will start talking of the portrayals of sexual assault. We have two sexually assaulted characters in the series, Starlight and Becca. First, i think it is great that they didn't used the "rape as character development" trope. Actually, it's cool how they mock this conceptions. When Starlight saves a woman from being raped on the streets or when she makes a public statement about her sexual assault it's the people behind her, building her public image as a character, the ones who push that trope. In the first time their great character development idea is to sexualize her outfit, after the second event mentioned they literally push her sexual assault as development. I love how the public relationships team acts oftenly in a men writing women way, serving as mirror for the most common mistakes of writers on pop culture products when they write female characters.

Going back to my point, i like the effort they putted into portraying differences in both cases. Homelander is the typical portrayal of a rapist, a narcisistic monster without remorse, a deranged son of a bitch. The Deep is also a piece of shit, but of a different kind. There is a phrase that feminists of my country had popularized " los violadores son hijos sanos del patriarcado" ( it means, the rapists are healthy sons of the patriarchy. It tries to explain they are not crazy individuals who act outside societal circunstancies), the Deep reminded me of that.

He is not crazy, he is an insecure guy with a super fragile ego who abuses women for power. Insecurity on men under patriarchy tends to become bashing of women. This is not a black and white portrayal of a sex criminal, it is surprisingly complex. Of course,his actions were unexcusable. He will never repay what he did to Starlight and other women before her but he has chances of working on his issues and, eventually if he trully wants to get better, stop being the scumbag he is. He is not a deranged criminal whose only fate is to be neutralized for the safety of others.

I think this is important because, at least in my country, i had seen people using sex offenders as an example of why countries without death penalty should implement it. I don't support extreme autoritarian security measures and it makes me sick to hear that there are people claiming those as solutions in the name of women's safety. I like the approach they took to portray The Deep as the piece of shit he is but still showing the complexity of this issue instead of going for a more traditional dichotomic way.

Back to the mocking of mainstream media's attempts of adopting a feminist approach i mentioned, the season two got even better at this commentary on the "Strong Female Character" trope with the introduction of Stormfront. She is the literal embodiment of what shitty marketing says an empowered female character must be and has the biggest "I'm not like other girls" complex ever. That interaction she had with Starlight in "pink = bad, pants = cool" mood was super annoying and blaming her for the assault?? Freaking disgusting.

Honestly, i hated her soo much even before she showed her true colours completely. Stormfront represents everything i hate in Hollywood's feminism and the crappy meaningless messages it's pushing lately. She reminds me to all the fake "woke" advertisements i had seen on tv, like a Carefree (pads brand) advertisement that pissed me off last week because with the slogan " self trust is beauty" it portrayed girls who wear make up as fake and insecure.

Now, speaking of that particular scene of her killing Kimiko's brother. I felt literally sick, even sicker than in every Homelander scene. This bitch is worst than Homelander because at least he gathers a public that serves to his views. If you ever need to provide someone with a proof of why intersectionality in feminism matters use this racist bitch. Horryfying racism hidden behind the progressive mask of a bullshit privileged version of feminism, the thing i hate the most. She has a strong nazi terf vibe. I think she absolutely applies as mirror of critic to stuff like Rowling's terf nonsense.

The introspective look this series has regarding the multiple issues on today’s attempts of gender approach on media entertainment surprised me. It’s everything i would had wished something to point out but nobody seemed to have the guts to make it happen because, as i already said, the current trend is what it’s being focus of critic here.

I will end this now, i feel there is plenty of more stuff to talk about but this post is getting very long and, if i get more ideas i want to discuss, i can always make a second post. As i said before, this expresses my humble opinions and i’m open to hear different interpretations that can enrich my views.

Thanks for reading this extra long ramble.

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