#I GENUINELY THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST A FANFIC THING AM I HALLUCINATING | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heliads · 2 years

Note

hi omg, your isaac lahey “surprise party” imagine has to be one of my favorites imagines ever, it’s amazing. could you maybe write a minho x reader fanfic where she gets taken to wckd instead of minho and he’s helping to get her back, then they’re reunited in wckd when the he, newt, and thomas come to rescue her?

thank you so much!! i am on it at once. anything for minho

masterlist

It is blissfully cold in the Scorch. The temperature has dropped just enough that Minho can fake a shiver, or at least pretend that the heat ravaging the world every other time of day has gone for good. The sun has ceased its blazing path across the heavens, leaving behind only the burned out darkness of the night sky.

Minho tilts his head back so he can get a proper view of it all. Seeing such a rich, jet indigo feels rare somehow; the sky above the Maze had always been a richer hue, although that was just because everything about the place was fake. Consequently, the skies out in the Scorch have been pale, watered-down hazes compared to the illusions from before, which only makes tonight’s beauty that much more special.

A voice from beside him jolts Minho out of his reverie.

“Reminiscing about the good times already? We’ve barely made it out of the Maze, I figured you wouldn’t be nostalgic for a while.”

He glances over to the side and there she is, the girl Minho couldn’t be happier to call his own. The Gladers lost a lot of good people during the flight from the Maze, but Minho harbors the decidedly uncharitable thought that he’d bear to lose a lot more of them if it meant Y/N could remain by his side.

“How did you know I was thinking about the Maze?” Minho asks, still trying to convince himself that he’s actually out and not hallucinating somewhere behind its endless stone walls.

Y/N absentmindedly taps him on the shoulder. “You’ve got that same look in your eyes. You got it right before you went running every morning. It was there when we finally left.”

Minho frowns. “Should I be alarmed that you can read my mind from a single expression?”

She shrugs. “I’ve never known you to worry too much about things outside of your control.”

This isn’t entirely true- Minho worries a great deal, actually, he just doesn’t like showing it. Everyone had their own roles in the Maze, and people typically looked to him for some reason to keep smiling. He’d tell one of his dumb jokes, make people believe things were going to be alright or at least that they could call him a heartless shank behind his back, and let Alby and Newt do the public stressing.

Look where that got them, though. Alby’s dead, Newt looks one decision away from collapse, and Minho’s sitting here pretending that some part of him doesn’t miss the days when his biggest fear was twisting an ankle.

He doesn’t want to go back, of course, he’d rather die than let himself return to WICKED’s clutches, but the point still stands.

“Maybe I just don’t like deserts,” Minho offers. “They’re not particularly pleasant, as far as large spaces of nothing but sand go.”

Y/N laughs, and Minho feels just as pleased with himself as he does every time he manages the feat.

“You’re not wrong. I don’t know what I’d do for a good patch of grass, maybe a few trees. Still, I’m glad we’re here.” She glances around. “I know this is rough. All of this is. I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else, though.”

Minho leans over, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Minho would be perfectly happy to stay here forever, silhouetted by the campfire they’ve chanced to light, but he’s rudely interrupted by the sound of a shouting voice. He recognizes it a moment later as Thomas, and grimaces. Minho is just about to gripe about the guy’s perfect timing when he realizes that Thomas is yelling with genuine fear in his voice. There’s only one thing that would make Thomas that scared, and that’s WICKED.

Seconds later, the shots start to ring out. Minho half-rises to his feet, grabbing for Y/N’s arm. Ships are descending from the sky, spotlights piercing the dusty land to reveal all of the Gladers scrambling for cover.

Minho starts to pull Y/N away. “We have to get away!”

She nods frantically. “Thomas and Teresa, they were up in the cliffs. Teresa is my best friend, I can’t leave her.”

Minho starts to sprint, Y/N right behind him. “We’ll find her.” He says. He can only hope that he’s not lying.

They dash around rock formations, trying to rejoin the group without being spotted. The only problem is that they intentionally sat a ways away from the other Gladers so they could talk without being interrupted or teased, and the distance is getting to them now.

A sudden bout of gunfire makes them come up short. A row of soldiers paces in between them and the rest of their friends. Minho skids to a halt, looking for some way out.

Eventually, he gestures for Y/N to start moving again. “Go, now. I’ll draw their fire.”

He readies himself to run, but Y/N shakes her head. She walks up to him, close enough to pull him close. “No. Going back would kill you.”

Minho stares at her. “What does that mean?”

Y/N tries her best for a smile; neither of them quite manage it. “I love you, Minho. Always.”

Before he can do something, or at least try to stop her, Y/N takes off running. The WICKED soldiers chase her, and just like that, Minho is alone again. He manages to pull himself together long enough to race towards Thomas and the rest, but the whole whole he can’t help feeling like he’s running in the wrong direction.

The only reason Minho is able to run is because he convinces himself that it will be alright, that Y/N will make it out because that’s what she always does. When the remaining members of groups A and B meet up, though, they’re missing a few people, and among the vanished is Y/N.

Minho doesn’t know what to do with himself. Newt and Thomas tell him that it isn’t his fault, that Y/N made her choice and he can’t hate himself for her decision. Minho knows the truth, though. She led the soldiers astray so he could get away. How can he forgive himself for that?

The only option is to get her back. They’re trying to work on a plan now, but tensions keep rising. Newt keeps stalking angrily around their hideout, demanding to know when they’re going to rush in there and get Y/N back. Minho knows they’ve all been friends with her for a long time, but shuck, the guy needs to cool it, fast.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. Minho has always had a temper like a stick of dynamite, and he’s going off now. When Newt suggests for the millionth time that the only reason they don’t have Y/N with them now is because they’re all scared to do something, he snaps.

“Look, I can’t believe I have to say this, but you need to slim it, now. We all want Y/N back, and your shuck complaining isn’t going to do anything except irritate us.”

Newt snorts. “Bold words for someone who hasn’t done anything but shut down my ideas. She could be dying in there, and you’re just out here twiddling your thumbs.”

Minho’s jaw locks. “How dare you? I need Y/N more than I need myself. You think it isn’t killing me to have her missing? I haven’t ever gone more than a day without seeing her, at least as long as I remember. I want her back too.”

Newt arches a brow. “Then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

Minho jabs a finger in the vague direction of the WICKED complex. “We only get one shot at this. You know that, right? They’re expecting us to try and get her. We break in once, and if they get any more of us, we’re done. It’s hard enough to save just one person. How do you think we’ll manage it when we have to get two people, or three, or four? That’s already limiting the number of rescuers. We have to do this right, that’s all I’m saying.”

Newt frowns. He looks icy cold, nothing like the patient guy Minho thought he knew, but at least he isn’t yelling anymore.

“Then what do you suggest? Since you’re such a shuck military genius, that is.”

Minho ignores that last comment in favor of actually getting somewhere. “There’s another Glader still in the WICKED building. I say we pay her a visit. After all, she’s responsible for this whole thing, isn’t she?”

A grin splits Newt’s face as he realizes what Minho means. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Teresa does not come quietly. It takes Thomas being bait as well as the combined efforts of Minho, Newt, Frypan, and Gally to drag her into their hideout for questioning. Shuck, Minho’s scarcely gotten over the Gally shock himself. He swore that he launched that spear directly into the Builder’s chest, but the guy is still out here, kicking and talking back.

Minho doesn’t entirely know how to feel about that. Sure, that’s one less death to have on his conscience, but even this latest ally seems tenuous at best. Didn’t they spend all their time in the Glade just snapping at each other’s throats?

If they can agree on anything, though, it’s that they need to get Y/N out, primarily by sticking it to WICKED as best they can. That’s why the two of them are heading the Teresa interrogation today, although it’s been slow going so far.

Minho gets tired of Teresa evading his questions about ten minutes into the whole thing. He grabs a small knife from a nearby table, sliding into a chair directly in front of their former friend.

“Let me tell you how this is going to go. You’re going to tell me what I need, or you’re going to be in enough pain that you’re going to be begging me to stop.”

Teresa scoffs, although Minho can see a small light of fear spark to life behind her eyes. “I don’t think you’re actually going to cut me.”

Minho cocks his head to the side. “Why not?”

Teresa stiffens. He can hear Thomas shifting uneasily behind him, but he keeps going anyway.

“Someone, hold her arm down.” He calls.

Gally, of course, is the first one to volunteer. Teresa tries to squirm away, but Gally’s grip is solid.

Minho continues. “We only need your finger to unlock the sensors. Who said anything about the rest?”

Teresa laughs nervously. “You’d really do that to someone who tried to save your life back in the Maze?”

Minho slams the knife into the table, handle first, and Teresa flinches. “You let Y/N be captured. You think I give a damn about myself? She’s out there being experimented on and cut up and you let it happen. Do you know one of the last things she asked me was to make sure you got out alive? She was your best friend, and you betrayed her.”

A tear is glistening in the corner of Teresa’s eye. “I only did what I had to do. I was saving all of us.”

Minho shakes his head slowly. “You were saving yourself. Now I’m saving Y/N.”

Teresa takes a slow breath in and out, then nods. “What do you need me to do?”

A fair amount, as it turns out. Teresa carves the WICKED control devices from the back of the Gladers’ necks, which is only mildly disconcerting. She also provides Newt, Thomas, and Minho with guard uniforms so they can sneak in without getting caught. They have a close call almost ten minutes in when Janson of all people wanders into an elevator with them, but they’re still alive somehow.

Teresa directs them onto the floor with the labs. “She’ll be in one of these rooms.”

Minho barely hears her, too busy scanning the glass-walled cells for the girl he loves. They all have copies of the door key, thanks to Teresa, and the only thing Minho has to do now is find Y/N.

This, of course, is easier said than done, but Minho doesn’t care. He paces the corridors of the WICKED complex with ease, half pretending that he’s back in the Maze looking for a way out. He supposed it’s fitting in a way; Y/N is his escape, his one form of salvation. She always has been.

Minho turns a corner, and there she is. He wants to sprint to the door, but there are just enough nurses and techs wandering the halls that he can’t give up his cover just yet. Instead, he purposefully meanders to the cell door, unlocking it with a couple buttons pressed in the proper order.

Y/N doesn’t react when he enters. A moment later, Minho realizes it’s because she’s strapped into some sort of machine. Teresa had briefed him on these sorts of things earlier. Apparently, they’re used to force their occupants through a series of simulations. Y/N could believe herself to be anywhere from back in the Maze to still by Minho’s side in the Scorch right now. Hell, Minho could be in a simulation himself at the moment. His whole rescue attempt could be nothing but his digital subconscious trying to convince himself that he can still get away.

He shudders, brushing away the thought. Once you start second guessing what’s real and not real, you’ll never get anywhere. Even if his world is just a simulation, at least Minho can get his girlfriend out now.

He walks over to the control panel, entering the commands Teresa told him about. A few moments later, the machine beeps and hisses. Y/N’s body slumps, and Minho just manages to catch her before she falls.

Already, she’s faintly stirring in his arms. Minho pulls them both further into the room so no one can see them through the glass front wall of the cell. Hidden by a dense thicket of machinery, Minho silently prays that she’s going to wake up. He can’t have come all this way just for her to lay deathly still beside him.

Y/N’s eyes flicker open slightly. “Minho?”

He thinks his heart could burst out of his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.”

She looks happy, and then a sudden realization seems to take the spirit out of her. “You’re not real. You’re just another shucking simulation.”

Minho shakes his head frantically. “No. It’s me, I swear.”

She doesn’t believe him, he can tell. How do you convince someone that you’re not just a figment of their imagination?

He tries again. “Listen, you know me. You once told me that you could tell when WICKED was trying to lie to us because what they were saying didn’t seem right. You can tell what’s right, can’t you? You know who I am, what I sound like. You know me.”

Y/N stares at him, and Minho is just starting to think that it’ll never work when she reaches up and wraps her arms around him. “I know you, Minho. I always do.”

A sigh of relief crashes through him. “That’s my girl.”

He has her back. Forget WICKED, forget everything else. Minho is alright now.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv-blog, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

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just because you’re afraid it doesn’t mean you’re broken.

Titans 3.05

once more into the cold dark void of the internet with my stream-of-consciousness take on a superhero tv show...

spoilers ahead.

1. i cannot believe that among the first things i get to hear in this episode with my own two ears is the line 'eluded our overdudes'. why must you give me such pain along with so much joy, show?

1.5. scarecrow stringing jason along on this path to red-hood-dom is not something i would’ve ever expected, but does kind of make sense.

1.55. i don’t know all the details of the original resurrection arc in the comics but i like that jason, weirdly, has a greater role to play in his own demise and rebirth? i think it makes it easier to draw a line between his past trauma, the demonstrably shitty and terrifying responsibility of being robin, the ways bruce and the titans wronged him, his responses to that, the reasons he turns to scarecrow, and his final evolution to red hood. it makes for a smoother character arc rather than a one that was interrupted for two decades before somebody went oh hey let’s resurrect that kid that the audience once voted to kill and make him an anti-hero!

1.75. what’s crane giving him? anti fear toxin? anyway, crane is a fucking creep and i’m not sure i want to see a whole lot of him on my screen.

2. oh, um, heads up: there’s a long sequence of unsteady cam + flickering lights right after the title card upto the 3:16 mark. it’s a bit headache-inducing so if you want to skip, you can go ahead and do that.

2.45. that’s... weird... why would he dream about... donna...

ok, who am i kidding. i’m going to jump right into my theory about Why Titans Makes Sense Actually because the show itself is apparently not interested in explaining itself:

a) it makes no sense for jason to be conjuring up donna--who famously did not care much for him!--in his dreams. (he wasn’t even there when she died.) or for her to be telling him don’t go or there’s still time.

b) this leads me to think that that’s actually donna, in some sort of limbo between life and death, the kind of place where jericho used to be

c) rachel has demonstrated that she has the power to link the minds of the titans across great distances--she called jason and hank/dawn for help in 2.01, she linked up everybody later in the season, projected dick’s hallucination of his father into their brains without even realising she was doing it, and in the finale, she managed to get dick into conner’s brain. she’s in themyscira now. is this how she gets donna back to life? but reaching out to her in that non-space between life and death?

d) the next obvious question is: why isn’t donna appearing in the dreams of the other titans? she probably is, but they have better reason to be dreaming about her since they were actually close to her, unlike jason.

e) but why would she warn jason in particular? does she foresee jason entering the afterlife--however briefly? does she have an idea of what jason plans to do and what he will become?

f) anyway, more trippy mindscapes and weird psychic powers, yay!

2.5. my heart clenched when bruce comforted jason post-nightmare: clearly i’ve been reading way too much batfam fic. this is a side of bruce we haven’t really been told to expect by all the characters on the show calling him a ‘psychopath’ (*cough*unreliablenarrators*cough*) and him getting jason to speak to a professional speaks volumes about the kind of self-reflection he’s done post dick’s departure, and maybe some of the regrets he has with regards to how he dealt with dick’s traumas.

i mean, just look at him when jason dismisses his concerns! BRUCE IS TRYING JASON

anyway, i have a whole lot more i want to say about this, but i’ll save it for later.

also: LESLIE THOMPKINS!!!!

3. i really like molly--and i love that she’s a friend from before jason got taken in by bruce, the implication that they meet up regularly and that she’s a grounding influence on him (tho clearly not grounding enough to not go along with his dumbass idea about confronting a child trafficker alone).

3.5. aw, jason. robin was his armour against everything in the world that would throw him down and chew him to bits, but san francisco proved that even robin wasn’t enough to protect him. it’s really interesting how ‘disillusionment with the idea of robin’ is so integral to the traumas of both dick and jason but in such different ways.

4. LESLIE!!!!!!! i even forgive her office being so goddamn blue because leslie!

4.5. it makes so much sense for titans!verse leslie to be a therapist, because this show is so inward looking anyway, and therapist sessions are a useful tool to showcase this character work in a story. besides, at least in fanfic, leslie often seems to double up as a counsellor anyway.

4.6. oh man. i’m not terribly convinced by walters’ red hood (tho i think that may be the point--argh. i’ll come back to this thought later. have to stop getting distracted!) but he plays the asshole kid that’s trying not to let any real emotion seep through really well.

“you’d like me to punch you, wouldn’t you”

5. not sure what to think of batman’s little trophy case other than the show winking unsubtly at us and going look look - catwoman! the riddler! two face! you excited yet?! it’s like the scene from the end of amazing spiderman 2 when they were trying to drum up excitement for a sinister six spinoff by having harry osborne walk by a bunch of display cases with stuff from iconic villains in them.

... but then again, bruce does like to display a lot of shit in his batcave, including his dead robin’s bloodstained costume, so.

5.5. bruce is so soft with jason it’s killing me. beyond just trying to learn from his mistakes with dick, it speaks to his own genuine desire to balance his dedication to gotham with doing the best by his sons, although he’s often not successful with that.

i love that titans is really playing the long game with bruce wayne, with each season and character-perspective sliding in fresh pieces of a bigger puzzle. titans’ bruce has always been a phantom of other peoples’ making, but now we’re getting the idea that he’s a whole lot more complicated than other people make it seem.

5.75. it really recontextualises some of his actions from previous seasons: the fact that he locked dick out of his security systems in 1.06 is likely his way of respecting dick’s independence and his desire not to be associated with batman/gotham anymore. jason knowing about bruce’s tracker while dick doesn’t is probably bruce trying to be more honest and upfront with his charges. bruce sending jason packing off to sanfran to spend time with the titans is probably not him passing on a big responsibility to dick (as i first uncharitably thought) but him trying to get jason out of the toxic influence of gotham for a while and a sign of his trust in dick as a leader and a mentor,

5.8. i mean, bruce is a prick, but he’s also human.

6. i think leslie is doing some good work with jason here, though she may have overstepped the line with her line about robin as a construct being projected by a man with BPD. her speculations about bruce’s diagnosis have no place in her session with jason, and if bruce confides in her, an egregious violation of patient-therapist confidentiality.

(about the diagnosis itself... i don’t know. i can’t really confirm or refute this without a whole lot more information, and i’m not sure if the writer of this episode means BPD in the same way an actual professional might.)

6.5. i think a huge thing that gets missed out in a lot of recent comics as well as movies/shows is that bruce didn’t create the robin persona out of whole cloth. dick did. he’s the starting point of that legacy and to call it entirely bruce’s creation is blatant erasure of that. in fact, i’m surprised that dick doesn’t feature more in the conversations they’re having about the pressures of being robin. after all, the guy had been robin--bruce’s partner--for such a long time before jason.

6.8. (and here’s the primal part of me that resonates the deepest with dick grayson--the Eldest Daughter part--that’s sort of resentful: that jason gets the therapy and softness and the learning from mistakes when it took years and years for bruce to reach out in any meaningful way to dick.)

7. oooh that was a great scene!

it’s fun to do these stream-of-consciousness live reactions, because the moment you step down from your soapbox, the episode goes right into tackling what you were just complaining about. bruce means well, he’s learning, but he goes about exactly the wrong way to help jason: taking away robin now can’t be read by jason as anything but a devastating judgment call from bruce. and iain glen really sells the moment that bruce realises this--too late--and his helplessness in trying to get jason to see that it isn’t jason’s fault that he’s trying to do this. he loves jason enough that jason is enough.

7.5. aaaah so jason brings up the elephant in the room at last. dick got everything makes sense from his perspective, where getting to put on a costume and fight crime means approval, means being something stronger and better than you are. dick got to be robin, then nightwing, and a leader of a whole team of other costume-clad heroes.

8. ... how did jason just walk into arkham????? this is ridiculous.

8.3. i mean, clearly jason’s not thinking straight, but betraying batman like this puts his possibilities of being robin again even further away.

8.5. watching that chemistry experiment montage was strangely funny. this guy is looking for an antidote to fear? well, constantly mixing up and inhaling gases concocted by a mad-scientist supervillain is something only the very fearless--reckless to the point of foolishness!--would do. what’s to say crane’s not given you a formula for a drug that will keep you tethered to his every will and whim? hmmmm?

8.7. so he sought out the joker to... test the formula???

9. wow the “loud and clear... boss” hits different after a whole episode of them referring to each other as father and son.

9.3. waitwaitwait HOLD UP. wait a DANG MINUTE. you’re telling me that scarecrow had enough resources that he could not only have folks on the outside steal jason away and dunk him in a lazarus pit (i TOLD you that this show would bring up and dismiss ra’s al ghul in a ten second aside! I TOLD YOU) but also have his own little chemistry lab in the basement, AND have enough resources for jason to build his red hood persona???????? all of this in barely twenty four hours?

well there goes my ‘jason orchestrated his death’ theory. it was nice while it lasted. *cups hands to the sky* fly away, my baby.

9.6. a part of me is gleeful at the rushed nature of such an iconic transformation though, especially when compared to all the character work that went before it. we’re so used to getting the opposite that it’s fucking delightful to have a show that’s more interested in exploring its characters’ minds rather than battle scenes or recreating transformations from the comics. that’s taken such bold and exciting steps to fully convey all the nuances of its most recognisable character, bruce wayne, from casting an older actor to play him to unflinchingly showing just how damaging the vigilante lifestyle has been to him and the people he loves. BRILLIANT

*sporfle*

10. again, heads up: a whole lot of flashing lights between 40:28 and 42:00.

10.3. i guess it’s the super-compressed timeline that’s really throwing me off. where did he have the time to get/develop the mind control thing from? or is it something that he got from the cabal of villains that he intimidated at the beginning of 3.02? very messy.

10.5. i love molly, i hope she shows up again this season.

11. aaaand that’s it! that was a solid episode as flashback episodes go, but now i can’t wait to return to the present.

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #jason todd #bruce wayne #leslie thompkins #a tragic jalebi #robin #red hood

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theeio · 3 years

Note

As I am nothing if not an indulgent soul, Hammerhunter and by all means switch fanfic specific with fandom generally

bless ur soul feather

001 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

when I started shipping it if I did:

when i first watched trollhunters! i think i shipped them before jlaire grew on me, i also think i hallucinated fanart of them before i watched it so i thought "oh so these are the characters people ship! yeah they seem cute" and then i found out no such art exists and that hammerhunter is almost like a rarepeair and all I'm left with is brainrot SKHBHFHGGHDD. i should draw that nonexistent fanart sometime

my thoughts:

fjsfdsjhfdhf aaawafjhdfbg i love them so much,,, i don't know why but this ship is something that makes me feel so genuinely happy and comforted,,, i think one of my favourite relationships portrayed in media is just like,, the kind where people that have known each other for a long time and are comfortable w each other and know each other inside out

i honestly dont know if i like them romantically or platonically more, or if i can define how i view the kind of relationship they have. like for me personally its,, something that isnt a best friend/sibling dynamic, but not necessarily romantic either, tho i rly like romantic interactions too but also its just a rly strong platonic kinda blond...maybe a qpr?? idk akahsjshdd im confused too okay all i know is that they make me super happy akahsjshd. maybe think like. sam n frodo. whatever those two had going on KDJSJSJ

as u can tell i dont have the words so art is the next thing i go to. i try to leave it up to interpretation when i share my draws

What makes me happy about them:

i dont know,, theyre just really sweet especially in the first season, their friendship made me cry and i wish wish wish we had more of that,, i just love how well they know and support each other

What makes me sad about them:

i feel like their friendship kinda got lesser and lesser from mid season 1 onwards, i wish it was addressed better

also rott ofc haha that scene makes me cry like a lot. its so raw and emotional and tender which was honestly something we were missing a lot through the series, but the circumstance is just so painful so augh...

things done in fanfic fandom that annoys me:

naw i dont think anything annoys me

things I look for in fanfic:

i dont read much fanfic as u know, but man im just in need of a hammerhunter centric fic (preferably more in line w canon stuffs) with trans!jim too, which is hard to find with this fandom size

as for fandom stuff in general, i think more of jim supporting toby is needed, i need to do more of it too

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

jlaire and darby are VERY VERY GOOD!!!!!!! i love them very much head full of those ships too!!!!

My happily ever after for them:

not rott DFJGDF

i just want them to be able to hang out a lot and vibe in peace

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

both

what is their favorite activity:

toby infodumping about rocks and jim listening intently admiring his best friend's special interest with heart eyes <3

ask me stuffs from this meme here!!

#ask #ask meme replies #i cant make up my mind okay i just hope yall enjoy the ride w me <3

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agentminnesota187 · 3 years

Text

Echoes: A DamiRae Story

Hey, look at me updating for once.

Chapter 2: Surprise Guest (A Good One This Time)

AO3 - Fanfic.net - Wattpad

Dear Raven;

I am very sorry that I had to leave so abruptly. Father ordered it. After Grayson had informed him of my solution to end Deathstroke's reign of terror, he insisted that I returned home immediately. I hope to be home soon; Father may allow me.

Starfire informed me that you are recovering well. I am very grateful. You are a valuable asset to the team, and I would be lying if I said that I did not enjoy your companionship at times. It is quite lonely without having anyone to enjoy tea and a good book with. At the very least, I have Titus, who I never thanked you for. Already he is proving a worthy comrade and trustful companion. Perhaps he will someday supersede Ace. I am well aware that Father enjoys feeding him under the table during dinner.

How is Logan doing? We were all aware that his relationship with Markov was... intimate, to say the least. I cannot imagine this new revelation being easy for him. I am sure that Reyes has his hands full.

Most importantly, how are you doing? I have never seen you strain your magick so far. Surely there are lasting effects of exerting yourself so harshly. As I'm sure you are aware, although I cannot travel back to the Tower as of right now, Father never said anything about having teammates at the Manor. If you ever have the time, I would appreciate the company?

Best Wishes,

Damian Wayne.

Lifting the calligraphy pen from the paper, Damian sighed. It had been one day since Slade's attack, and although it was verified that the brute was dead, Damian still felt on edge. It was a regular occurrence for Wayne's, but this felt so much worse than the Joker's target on your back.

The voice of Alfred had jolted him from his thoughts, "Master Damian, your tea with brown sugar, half a lemon and a china cup as you insist." Alfred set the tray down next to the paper in front of the boy. "Writing a message to your friends? How rather unlike you."

"Thank you, Pennyworth." Damian started, setting his pen down. "I am penning a message to Raven, I require updates about Logan, and she has the clearest handwriting to read."

"I'm sure, Master Damian." He teased, "Master Bruce is expecting you in his office. It would be wise not to keep him." Alfred's face held a small smile before he left the room. Damian was left alone to ponder why his father required him.

He folded up the letter and hid it in his pocket before sauntering down to where the office was.

Titans Tower

Raven was relaxing in her room. Her magick had been quite finicky the past few days. Ever since Slade had returned. She was exhausted, both physically and spiritually. She had rubbed her quartz so much that the surface was practically flat.

After Damian had been dragged back to Gotham City, she didn't have many other people she wanted to talk to. She felt bereft. The migraine she was experiencing from her father's piercing voice in her head was not helping either.

Throughout Damian's absence, she had kept to her room. She shut the Titans out in an attempt to protect them while keeping herself under control. Jaime had occasionally left some food outside of her door for her. It was odd being alone again.

She had become accustomed to having others around; in fact, she felt comfortable around others. Not this time. This time, she couldn't let them know the demons girding her head. She almost killed Damian. Who's to say that if Gar looked at her the wrong way, she wouldn't hesitate?

The thoughts swirled around her mind like a hurricane. "5,4,3,2,1. 5,4,3,2,1." She repeated; a method to help mitigate her anxiety.

"Raven?" She heard the jaunty voice of Starfire ask.

Raven took a deep breath before answering, "Yes, Star?"

"May I come in?"

"Yes," Raven faltered out. She couldn't disappear forever.

The door hissed open, and Star walked in cautiously. "How are you doing?"

"I'm managing." Raven huffed, running her fingers through her hair.

Starfire sighed. "When do you think that you'll join the Titans for an evening? Everyone has been asking about you. I don't think that can keep telling Batman you'll be at the next meeting much longer."

"I just don't want to hurt anyone. I think that you understand that."

"Unfortunately. But when you are ready, the Titans will be ready to welcome you back with open arms," and with that sentence, Star exited the room, and Raven sat in silence once more.

Sighing heavily before rolling onto her stomach in the middle of her bed, Raven smushed her face into her bedding and starfished with her arms and legs.

Tap tap tap

Raven jolted quickly at the noise, unsure of whether she had been hallucinating with her ears.

Tap tap tap

She turned her head to the window, puzzled. Her room was among one of the highest above the ground. Who was tapping at her window, Superman?

Muffled words were heard outside the Tower, and she quickly sprinted to the window to see one Damian Wayne in his Robin costume hanging from a rope in front of her window. Refraining from bursting into laughter, she quickly let him in while shaking her head. 'This boy, I swear to Azar.' she thought.

"Mind telling me why you're outside my window hanging from a rope instead of in Gotham City doing whatever you do there?" She asked.

"I had a talk with Father. He said that I should check up on my friends, so here I am." He explained.

"Are you sure that he didn't mean send us a text?"

"He never specified how, so I decided to come to the Tower," Damian smirked. "So how have you been, Raven?"

"Oh, you know. Living the dream," She gave Damian a soft smile before sitting back on her bed. "And you? I can't imagine things have been great back in Gotham considering how fast you travelled back here."

Damian joined her on the bed and nodded. "Father is trying his ablest to understand my actions while additionally punishing me for them."

"Understandably so, Slade tried to kill all of us. Multiple times. I guess that it still doesn't mean that we get to play judge, jury or executioner."

"I would like to stay here tonight. As much as I enjoy tea with myself, it is not the same without you." Damian admitted before the conversation could turn dark.

"I'm sure Star would allow that." Raven genuinely smiled.

"Hey, mama! Are you bu-" Garfield walked into the room, his eyes setting on Damian, "Robin? When did you get here?"

"Gar, have you ever heard of knocking?" Raven snapped.

"Chillax, mama, it's not like you two were doing anything." He shrugged before continuing, "anyways, Star's calling a team meeting. Both of you better get yo butts to the living room."

"Be there right away, Gar." Raven groaned before getting up from her bed. "Before I forget to ask, how the hell did you manage to get all of the way over here from Gotham? It's literally across the country."

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You zeta'd, didn't you?"

Damian looked back at her with a smirk.

#Damirae #demon birds #damian x raven #damian wayne #raven #fanfic #titans #dc

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thebrownssociety · 3 years

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What made you ship Bugs and Elmer? (I'm not judging just so you know, I am genuinely curious since I've never seen people shipping them.)

Okay, first up, thanks for the ask!

Secondly - I didn't ship them until very recently [the last couple of months]. I initially went through a period of shipping Elmer and Yosemite Sam, based on the fact that Elmyra and Monty from Tiny Toons are a kinda-couple/ship-tease.

I wrote one fanfic based on this premise [Date Night] and realised it simply didn't have the chemistry.

I initially didn't want to ship Bugs and Elmer, simply because I thought that was a more popular pairing. There's been a few fanfics with them. [Only a few, I'm now realising as I tried to search for evidence that I'm not hallucinating. They're mainly on 'Archive Of Our Own' and very short. Warnings within the fanfics.]

They also have a couple of cute moments within cartoons and in the comics. [The Dell/Gold Key stories, in particular show them getting along very well and going on adventures and stuff. I've read a lot of those comics and they're very funny and good and sweet.]

Also @imagineyourlooneytunesship has a couple of what they call 'Budd' moments as well. And as it looks like the premise is it's an ask blog, I thought that meant shipping Bugs and Elmer was more of a 'thing' than it is?

But yeah, for me personally, I just think they have quite a good dynamic, and looking at it through 'the LT's are actors' route, in order to act out the scenes they do, they must be quite comfortable with each other and be friends, at least, of camera. The rest is simply my theorising.

#Looney Tunes Ask #Bugs Bunny #Elmer Fudd #Bugs and Elmer #Shipping #looney tunes fanfiction

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pcychedelic · 4 years

Note

Hello can I request for Chanyeol Baker fluff wherein chanyeol is a baker and reader is a regular customer in their bakeshop and Chanyeol has a crush on her. I will be happy if you write one for me. Thanks for writing EXO fanfic

A Light Dusting of Sugar

For anonymous

Pairing: Park Chanyeol/Reader

Tags: Fluff, baker!Chanyeol

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 2.3k

The first time you meet the new baker at Mr. Bong’s patisserie is during the first day of summer break.

You’ve been used to being greeted by Kyungsoo and his black, thick-framed glasses whenever you burst through the doors of the pastry shop for the past four years, so when you find someone completely different behind the counter, it’s only natural for you to wonder if you’ve entered the correct place.

“Hi! What can I get you today?” the new employee asks with a big grin on his face.

You eye him curiously, having to literally look up at him because he’s so ridiculously tall. The stranger continues to smile at you as he waits for your reply, and it has made you notice the endearing dimple on his left cheek. His big, round eyes seem to gleam with a sense of mischief you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s his ears that stand out the most among all his features — they stick out in the cutest way possible, especially since he’s wearing the baby blue baseball cap that goes with the employee uniform.

You snap yourself out of the trance that this stranger has put you in and you eventually manage to say, “I’m, um… I’m here to pick up an order. A whole rhubarb and lemon curd cake? I think my mom already paid for it.”

“Oh,” the man nods. “So you’re rhubarb.”

“I have a name, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me by the cake my parents made me pick up,” you retort, hoping he understands that you’re joking. Thankfully, the handsome stranger just laughs, and then he goes on to prepare your order. As you watch him, you can’t help but ask: “I’m sorry, but… do you know where Kyungsoo is?”

“The guy that worked here before me?” he asks. You nod. “All I know is that he left town to study or something. I can’t really remember, but I think that’s what Mr. Bong said. He just needed a baker urgently and I was the best he could get.”

Law school, you say to yourself. You’re happy that Kyungsoo’s out there finally living his dreams, but it wouldn’t have hurt him to say goodbye.

“Why do you look so bummed out?” the man asks as he places the cake in the center of an unfolded box. He then carefully begins assembling it, making sure that the paper box doesn’t touch any part of the cake. “Did you like him or something?”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Well, not you specifically. Girls are easy to read,” he answers, still focused on wrapping your cake up. “I can only speak for myself, though. Maybe it’s the same for other dudes with sisters too.”

“I’m sorry, who are you again?”

He finally looks up and flashes another wide smile. You didn’t believe that hearts could skip beats, but you could swear that yours just did. “I’m Chanyeol.” He finishes your order up, tying a dainty blue ribbon around the box. He hands the cake to you. “And you are…?”

“Leaving,” you say as you pick up the box and turn around.

You can hear Chanyeol chuckling behind you. “Okay, then. See you later, rhubarb.”

—

The first time you meet Chanyeol outside of Mr. Bong’s patisserie is during the first day of the fall semester.

“Rhubarb!” an annoyingly familiar voice calls from behind you.

You turn around in a flash only to be greeted by another one of Chanyeol’s huge grins, his dimple appearing on his left cheek like it always does when he smiles this widely. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“I didn’t know you studied here too,” Chanyeol says, completely ignoring what you just said.

“And now you do.” You roll your eyes at him as you turn back around and continue to walk to where you’re supposed to be heading, not caring whether Chanyeol follows you or not.

Unfortunately, he does. “I thought you were just in high school or something,” he remarks as he walks beside you.

“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be flattered or offended by that hypothesis that’s way off the mark.”

Chanyeol laughs. He’s still walking alongside you. “Where are you going?”

“Class.”

“You’re lying. Everyone’s off to lunch.”

You stop in your tracks and throw him a look of genuine confusion. “Why are you annoying me right now?”

“Because,” Chanyeol begins, “You haven’t been around the shop much and I kinda miss annoying you there, but then I saw you walking and at first I thought I was hallucinating or something, and then I realized that maybe it’s just my lucky day.”

You give him one last glare before you continue walking. “So… you missed me,” you paraphrase his explanation.

“I’m not saying it again,” he chuckles. “I know you heard me just fine the first time.”

You purse your lips in an attempt to keep yourself from smiling. You didn’t know that Chanyeol cared about you enough to notice your absence, and now that you do, that information is turning your heart into mush.

“Do you have plans after class?” Chanyeol asks after a few silent steps, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Maybe,” you tease. This time, you allow yourself a smirk. “Maybe not. It depends on what you’re gonna say next.”

“Well that isn’t pressuring at all,” he sarcastically says as he laughs. “I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out somewhere. You know, somewhere I can annoy you that’s not the patisserie or here on campus.”

You don’t stop yourself from smiling this time around. “Sounds cool.”

Chanyeol’s signature grin spreads across his face once again. “Okay,” he says. “See you later, rhubarb.”

—

The first time you try your hand at baking is with Chanyeol at Mr. Bong’s patisserie long after business hours during the middle of winter break.

Chanyeol always teases you about how you just sit around while he bakes for tomorrow’s sale the night prior. To shut him up, you agree to let him teach you how to bake under the guise of “wanting to help him” in baking for the shop when you’re eventually good enough, but really, you’re just there for the free sweets.

Tonight you’re making baked sugar donuts, which Chanyeol claims to be the easiest recipe he could think of. That may be true to an extent, but you know that it’s probably the least probable recipe to be a fire hazard.

“We literally have less than ten ingredients so if you mess this up, I’m really gonna make fun of you,” he says while preheating the oven to 350.

“I’m not a child,” you protest, but it probably came out as sulky and… well, childlike. “Just tell me what to do so we can eat donuts already. I’m starving.”

Chanyeol stares at you for a while, a soft smile slowly spreading across his lips, and it’s hard not to convince yourself that he doesn’t look extra cute when he’s smiling at you like that while wearing a light blue apron that says ‘kiss the chef’.

“Are you just gonna stand there and stare at me like a creep or are you gonna teach me how to make donuts?”

Chanyeol laughs, and then finally shows you the ropes: how to properly coat the donut pan with nonstick spray, why it is important to sift the dry ingredients, how to thoroughly mix the batter so that it’s smooth all the way through. Suddenly, you’re like fourteen again, back in home economics class for your first practical kitchen exercise.

Chanyeol volunteers to fill up the donut pans but you protest, so naturally, he lets you have your way. He pops them into the oven once you’ve finished filling the pans up. The timer is set to fifteen minutes.

“Who taught you how to bake?” you ask out of the blue as both of you just stare through the oven glass, waiting for the batter to rise and cook.

“My mom,” Chanyeol answers with a fond smile. “Do you know what was the first thing I baked in my whole life?”

“What?”

“Sugar donuts.”

“No way…” You turn to look at him, and he simply nods. “This is your mom’s recipe?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I was ten, I think. I kept on messing up the batter and we had to do, like, three do-overs. You actually did better than me.”

Both of your laughters are cut short when the timer lets out a loud ding. Chanyeol pulls the fresh batch out of the oven, and you can already smell the sweet scent of honest-to-goodness homemade donuts. You were about to dig in when Chanyeol chastises you playfully, reminding you that you’ll need to wait five more minutes to cool them down. He flips the pan over and lets the donuts rest.

The minutes pass excruciatingly slowly. The timer finally dings again, but Chanyeol still swats your hand away as you reach for a donut.

“What?” you whine.

“They’re sugar donuts,” he reminds you. “We haven’t added sugar yet.”

“Oh, right.”

Chanyeol laughs at you once more, tossing the donuts one by one into a sandwich bag filled with sugar. He shakes the bag lightly to cover the donuts with the sweet granules, and then he puts them on a plate when he’s done.

“Can I eat one now?” you ask, getting impatient.

Chanyeol lets out an affectionate chuckle. “Sure. Knock yourself out.”

You both grab a donut and bite into it. The sweetness explodes in your mouth as soon as you dig in, the donut almost melting on your tongue because of its softness. It has a light, airy texture to them and the next thing you know, you’re already reaching for a second one.

“These are so good,” you say, the words almost coming out a moan.

“Right? God, I could never have enough of these when I was a kid. It’s actually a miracle I don’t have diabetes now from all the sugar donuts I’ve had growing up,” Chanyeol says as he laughs. “I could teach you how to bake other recipes, if you’d like.”

You just smile at him. “I’d love to.”

—

The first time you admit to yourself that you have feelings for Chanyeol is during the last day of spring break.

All you did over the break was help him bake in the patisserie, even if he still did the majority of the work. Mr. Bong was naturally happy about it because of the free labor. But really, it was the least you could do for him since you practically grew up having his croissants, brioches, and eclairs. It felt nice to sort of give up, especially since you’ve seen how the shop struggled sometimes throughout the years.

More than that, you liked helping out in the patisserie because you got time to spend with Chanyeol.

He’s still annoying as ever, perhaps even more now that you’ve known him for around a year, but it’s nice to have someone to exchange playful banter with, to teach you baking recipes that he learned from his mom, to tease you out of the blue.

It just feels nice when you’re with him.

“Do you have plans after work?”

“Technically, I don’t work here,” you say, “but no, I’m free after work. What’s up?”

Chanyeol fumbles with his words as if he’s nervous, but eventually he manages to say, “I, um, baked something for you. I was wondering if we could share it back in the kitchen after closing.”

“You made something for me?” you ask in confusion. “For what? It’s not my birthday.”

Chanyeol shrugs, but you can tell he did it for a reason, you just can’t seem to figure it out. “I just felt like baking something for you. You’re gonna love it, I swear.”

And so closing time arrives and Chanyeol disappears into the kitchen as soon as you flip the CLOSED sign on the door of the shop. He comes out after a while and then asks you to close your eyes. He leads you back into the kitchen, guiding you slowly as you can’t see anything, and when you both stop and he asks you to open your eyes, you find a familiar cake sitting on the industrial kitchen counter and your lips slowly curl into a smile.

“Really?” you ask, but you can’t help the small chuckle that escapes your lips. “Rhubarb custard cake?”

“I wanted to make a rhubarb and lemon curd cake, like, you know, from the first time we met but we’re all out of curd and I didn’t have enough time to make one from scratch so I just settled for custard,” Chanyeol rambles on and on, but you just stare at him with a smile until he notices that he’s babbling. “I’m sorry. I’m saying a lot of stuff right now, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” you laugh. “What’s the cake for?”

Chanyeol heaves a deep sigh, and then says, “Like I said, this was the cake you picked up — well, it’s close to the cake you picked up when we first met, and… we’ve been hanging out for quite sometime now…”

You shake your head, still smiling. “Get to the point.”

“I may or may not have had a little crush on you for a while and… this is… Well, this is me saying I like you,” he finally says. “I’m such a dork, right? I’m saying I like you by baking you a cake. Right. I’m sorry. I’ll just…”

You interrupt him as you suddenly walk toward him and tiptoe to give him a kiss. He’s confused for a split second until he realizes what was happening, and then his hands settle on the small of your back to support you.

You pull away. “What are you sorry for?”

“Um…” he replies intelligently, earning yet another chuckle from you. “I honestly can’t remember what I was saying before you kissed me.”

And so you kiss him again, and you could feel him smiling into the kiss, and you decide that Chanyeol’s lips are sweeter than anything you’ve baked with him.

#exowritersnet #chanyeol x reader #one shot #chanyeol fic #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fanfiction #chanyeol fluff #requests #chanyeol oneshot #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol scenario #exo x reader #exo fic #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fluff #exo oneshot #exo imagine #exo scenario

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aliceslantern · 4 years

Text

Grow, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 2

Suddenly human and abandoned in the Keyblade Graveyard, Demyx struggles to survive and come to terms with what his life is. Only by chance is he saved from exposure, and brought to Radiant Garden to recover. Unsure of who he is and where to even begin, Demyx finds a kindred spirit in Ienzo, and before long finds perhaps he isn't the only one lost in this new life. But how can they move forward with so much holding them back?

Roughly canonverse, Zemyx, hurt/comfort. Started for Zemyx day (9/6). Updates Wednesdays until it's done.

Chapter summary: Demyx begins to recover from his ordeal, and plan for whatever comes next.

Read it in FF.net/on AO3

---

Dark, for a long time, actually.

What he was aware of first was the pain. His muscles and back were screaming, forcing his eyes open. There was so much to take in he actively had trouble sorting all the stimuli.

Pain, a bed, cool air, a window with white curtains. Something pinching his hand, a plastic lead. A tube?

Demyx thought he saw a person. His eyesight was weak, and he squinted. White coat, slate-gray hair. Was this all another hallucination? He tried to sit up, but it was so painful he just flopped back down weakly.

The person turned. “Oh, you’re awake,” he heard. They crossed over to him, and Demyx could see the vague outlines of Zexion’s face.

“Zex?” He cleared his throat. “Zexion? No…” He coughed a little. “Ienzo… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Are you real?”

“Yes, I’m very real. Much to my chagrin.”

“Am I dead?”

“No. Not quite.”

Demyx thought. His mind seemed slow to process information. But if he were dead, why would he be in so much pain? “H-hurts…”

“I’m sure it must. Do you want me to get you something for the pain?”

He looked at the ceiling, trying to decide. Did he want to try and clear his head? Or did he want the agony to stop? “Okay.”

Hazily, Demyx watched him get up, cross over to a cabinet, pull out a blob (a vial?) and what had to be a syringe. Demyx felt something stinging injected into his hand, and a few moments later the pain began to subside to a throb. His vision was still not quite clear. “Is that better?”

“T-thanks…” It was difficult to speak. “W-where--?”

“Radiant Garden. Isa and Lea brought you in here in a panic. They were looking for clues to help Sora in the Keyblade Graveyard. You were horrifically dehydrated. Your kidneys failed, and Even suspects you may have had a seizure at some point--”

“...Yikes.”

Ienzo chuckled a little. ““Yikes” is right. You’ve been unconscious a few days--we were worried at first you might not wake at all. But then you started to rebound.”

“I’m… a-alive?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, Demyx just looked up at the ceiling. “Now what,” he murmured.

He thought he saw Ienzo smile. “Recovery,” he said. “It’ll probably be a while before you feel fully back to yourself.” A sigh. “And there may yet be lingering effects.”

“Like… what?”

He shook his head. “Even would have to examine you to be sure.”

“Am I human?”

Ienzo knotted his hands together. “Yes. Perhaps not yet technically fully--the data is still inconclusive. It is only you and Even who are going through this. Right now, it is imperative you rest, receive enough fluids, and try not to get too anxious.”

“Even.” Demyx tasted the name. “You mean Vexen?”

“His Somebody, yes. Which reminds me. What is your name?”

He hesitated, and strained to think. But it was like hitting a mental brick wall. Demyx couldn’t remember; he suspected he hadn’t been able to for a long time. “I… I don’t know.”

He thought he saw surprise on Ienzo’s face. Then, “perhaps… you’re simply disoriented, with all that your being has experienced. It may come back to you.”

He was feeling tired again, now that the pain was subsiding.

"...Why don't you get some rest," Ienzo suggested.

"Okay."

Ienzo got up and headed towards the door.

"Zex?"

"...Yes?"

"Thanks."

A sigh. Demyx could not read his expression. "Sure, Demyx."

---

Demyx dipped in and out of sleep for a long time. When he woke up for real, he was less sore, but he was shaky and somewhat nauseous. His vision was still weird--did his Somebody just need glasses?-- and he squinted hard. He felt sticky and gross. Maybe they'd let him take a shower. How much time had he lost? He got up slowly. With the IV, it was hard to maneuver, but he was able to peek out the window, to the town of Radiant Garden below. He'd been changed into loose linen pajamas. His body felt odd; he flexed his hands. He had to have lost some weight.

"...Oh, good, you're able to get up."

Even's voice startled him; he gasped aloud and his heart gave a weird, quivery beat. "Frightened you, did I? My apologies. Here, sit." He gently eased Demyx back onto the bed and took his pulse with two cold fingers. "...That was all quite hard on you, wasn't it?"

"I don't feel well."

"Of course you don't. I'd be shocked if you did," Even said. He felt at the glands on Demyx's throat. "It's a miracle you were found. A few hours later and you would've been no more." He took a pen light out of his jacket and tracked Demyx's eyes for a moment. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Sore. My eyesight's kinda funky."

"The soreness is part of the dehydration. It should pass in a few days. I'm more concerned about your kidney functioning. It's improving, but it's not where it should be. Eyesight… well, that could possibly be again due to the kidneys, but you might've naturally needed glasses anyway. Strange problems the Nobody status hides. We'll keep an eye on it, pardon the pun. There's some medication I want you to take daily and you must rest . I'm sure you need no excuse to be lazy." He scoffed a little.

"Why did you save me?"

Even seemed genuinely confused by the question. "Was I to let you die, then?"

"I just…"

"You helped me," Even said. "But regardless I think that you being another living thing is reason enough."

Demyx felt his eyes watering.

Even sighed. "At some point we must let past conflicts lie."

"You became human like me."

"Ah… yes."

"Did you forget things?"

Even cocked his head. "No," he said slowly. "What can't you remember?"

"A lot of things. ...My name."

Even stared deeply into his eyes, as though looking for something. "Of course brain damage is possible with dehydration but--"

" Whoa, wait, what--"

"--but I don't think you've experienced anything that extensive. Perhaps… it could be…" He put a hand to his chin. "...I so wish I had access to a working MRI…"

Demyx swallowed.

"You're stable enough to be talking to me, at least," Even said quickly. "We will look into what we have." A pause. "Do you know how long you were there alone? What happened?"

Demyx explained about Xigbar. "He broke the phone so I couldn't call you guys. And then he knocked me out so I couldn't escape in time. I had no power-- I couldn't…" His eyes were watering again, and he felt it break free.

"It is traumatizing," Even said, almost gently. The gentleness was so jarring Demyx started crying in earnest, pressing a hand to his mouth. "Surviving such a thing and dealing with this new humanity on your own."

"I'm pathetic."

A sigh. "No, you're not. How long were you there alone, Demyx?"

He tried to remember. "At least three days… after that it's hard to remember. I… I knew I was going to die…" the tears were hot on his face. "He left me there to die."

Even sighed. "Leaving it to the fates," he muttered. "Alas, you seem to be lucky."

"Ha. Hardly. It's total coincidence they found me."

Even hummed. "You're alive now, whatever that means to you."

"What do I do ?"

"I'm afraid you must answer that question for yourself." He stood. "Do you feel up to trying to eat?"

"...I guess."

"I'll get you something light." He left.

Demyx considered the interaction, hiccuping. Even had never been so kind to him before. Was this because of the vessels? Or did humanity just make him different ?

He looked at his hands blurrily. "Am I different?" He asked out loud. He had a new lease on life, free of Xemnas and Xehanort and he was dubiously human. Everything he'd ever wanted. But it was a hollow victory.

He lay back down. Even brought him rice, and he was able to keep it down. The man didn't want to remove the IV line just yet, and Demyx was feeling vaguely tethered. He said he could shower, though, so gladly Demyx did, shedding days of desert. He almost started to panic when he saw clumps of hair gathered in the drain, but Even reassured him through the door it was a stress reaction and the hair would likely come back.

He'd never been so painfully aware of his body, its aches and pains. Shouldn't have been proud of himself for being able to go to the bathroom, or found so much pleasure in brushing his teeth. Once he was clean and dressed (in clothes other than a cloak?) he returned to his bed, exhausted already.

"Lea wants to see you," Even told him. Demyx thought he saw his jaw tense, a glint of fear in his eye--but why? "Would you even want that?"

He shrugged. "I owe the guy a thanks, at least."

Even sighed and put a hand to his brow. "Alright."

A few minutes later Lea bounded in, followed by Isa. They weren't wearing black cloaks after all, just black clothes. "Good to see you're okay," Lea said, grasping his hand. He almost looked like he would move in for a hug. "That was scary. "

"Sorry for going all zombie on you," Demyx said. He found it hard to meet his eyes. "And… thanks for saving me." He bit his lip. "You didn't have to."

"As though we would leave you to die?" Isa said levelly. It was odd to see his teal eyes. "I think I owed you ."

Demyx scoffed. "For carrying two empty dolls?"

"For taking the initiative. As it were."

Lea slung an arm around Isa. "It's because of you that Roxas is up and about. We gotta thank you for that."

Demyx shook his head. The praise didn't feel good. He just felt weepy again.

Lea sat next to him on the bed. "You alright?" He asked a bit more softly. "The eggheads treating you okay?"

"Everyone's been… really nice," he said. "I don't get it."

"Humanity has afforded clarity," Isa said in a low voice. "None of us treated you very well."

"Because I was a bastard."

Lea snorted. "I think we all were. 'Sides, you were only a pest at the absolute worst."

His lips twitched in a hesitant smile.

"It seems you have quite a story to tell," Isa said.

The smile faltered.

"Only if you wish. I imagine it was very difficult."

Demyx took a deep breath. "I felt pulled there," he admitted. "The… graveyard? Then Xigbar showed up--"

Lea put up a hand. "Wait, wait, wait, he's alive? "

Demyx frowned. "Yeah."

He groaned. "He must've faked us out."

Demyx touched his chest. "When Xehanort died both Even and me lost his heart. The same must've happened to him."

"It's still worth bringing up to Riku and the others," Isa said to Lea.

"I don't know where he went," Demyx said honestly. "He knocked me out, broke my phone. So when I woke up I was human."

"And trapped." Isa shook his head. "A sadist way to go out."

"Yeah. I sort of… wandered, just trying to find water, and then you guys found me. But not before I got all sorts of fucked up."

"We weren't sure you would make it," Lea said. "You stopped breathing a couple times on the trip over."

"I did?"

Isa nodded. "Never have I missed the corridors more. But we're… human."

"I really owe you one," Demyx admitted to his lap.

"Think nothing of it."

"What will you do now?" Isa asked.

"I have no idea," Demyx admitted. "I… never thought I'd get this far."

Lea chuckled. "Well, it's nice here, and it's nice in Twilight Town. Feel it out. I think our landlord had an empty apartment in the building."

"You guys have an apartment? In a building? In a town?" He sighed. "Why does that feel weird?"

Isa smiled. "It does, doesn't it?"

"Am I going to have to get a job?" He asked, and groaned.

Lea laughed. "At least you can pick it this time."

"And not until you're well," Isa added. "Take your time recovering."

"...I'll try."

Lea patted his shoulder. "We gotta go. Just wanted to check in on you, is all."

"...Thanks."

"Ienzo has our numbers. Give me a call."

Demyx watched them leave. Their faces seemed pleasant until they were in the hallway, and he heard-- “... Xigbar. I knew it couldn’t be that easy.”

Demyx decided not to worry about it, because he was feeling tired again. He lay back down and went to sleep.

#grow #demyx #ienzo #zemyx #even (kingdom hearts)#lea (kingdom hearts)#isa (kingdom hearts)

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aabaker1 · 5 years

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Just finished Harvey Girls season 2

First spoiler-free Version. Season two of Harvey Street Kids or Harvey Girls Forever call it what you want, was...uneven. The season started and ended in good places, but there was a block of three episodes towards the middle that just fell flat. Good new characters, though only a few of them got developed. And I am really hesitant about the cliffhanger, it could easily go wrong in a lot of ways.

Okay time for the full rundown after the break.

Hoo boy this series had some highs and lows. I’ll break down by episode and then final thoughts.

Raiders of the Lost Park:

Okay does anyone else notice that the episode titles Netflix presents aren’t always the same as the ones on the title card? It’s not that big a deal, but come on, it’s Dreamworks and Netflix. A little consistency would be appreciated.

Nice way to start the series. This was a risky move, introducing brand new characters was one thing, but giving Audrey and Melvin, two established characters, brand new siblings? That was taking a risk. If I had to complain about something the tension and strife Dot caused in the season 1 finale was brushed aside way too quickly, but that’s a nit pick at most.

Dottie Rocket/Weekend at Audrey’s:

Good Dot episode, nice to see her obsessive compulsiveness get the better of her sometimes. But, Dot sill came back down to Earth in the end, even if it took a sugar-induced hallucination to do it.

Digital pets kicking the bucket, sigh, I can relate. But Audrey was just a bit out of character here. Not her recklessness, but her attempts at covering up. Audrey is not the type of person to hide mistakes, get frustrated by them, sure, but not hide them. Okay, she didn’t want to disappoint Lotta, but Audrey just doesn’t have that kind of deception in her.

Boy Story/ Puzzle, Puzzle, Toil and trouble.

And this is what I meant by character development. It’s nice to see that even the Bloogie Boys have limits, and legitimately like more than stereotypical boy hobbies. Also, nice touch remembering Dot and Pinkeye are friends.

Frufru, getting character development? Didn’t we already do this in season one? Okay, I know, people don’t just change overnight. But, for being so eager to be recognized for her brains, Frufru was a bit too quick to cheat. Though nice callback to Audrey Parkour. And I seriously don’t want to know why there’s an old well full of butter, that is just leads to several nasty implications.

Treasure of the Sierra Harvey/ Babies Day in:

And the character development continues, this time for TIny. Also not all old toys are dangerous. The treasure trove of old toys idea has been done before, but this wasn’t a bad example. Though I thought for sure Tiny was going to leave his action figure behind in the storm drain.

And a nice way to show that Lotta’s compassion can get out of hand some times. Also nice way to show that raccoons aren’t always jerks. Just gonna say it now, ninja pajamas, just ninja pajamas. Also, Dot, running bare-foot, outside, in the park? What kind of bizzaro world is this?

The Lice Storm/ Mission Impossibow:

This one kinda fell flat for me. Audrey over reacting is expected enough, but everyone going along with it, including Dot, that was a bit too far. But, the big letdown was the Harvey Avenue Kids. Okay we’ve seen them before in season one, but this was there chance to shine. And most of them came off as background filler, just like before. Penny was the only one who got any kind of development. But, she and bald Audrey did just enough to save this ep for me.

Decent episode and it shows Dot’s possible great weakness. She’s creative, but in a scientific, A, to B, to C kind of way. Imagining fantasy scenarios on the spot is just not in here wheelhouse, props to her stepping outside of her comfort zone. Bow initiated the plot here, but didn’t get a lot of character development. But, I’m okay with that. The Bow doesn’t really need development. She’s the bow, the weird kid who does her own thing, sometimes you don’t need to add more to make something good. My only complaint is that there just wasn’t enough of her this season, but I guess there can be too much of a good thing. Did I mention Bow’s my favorite character? Could you tell?

Fandom Menace/Moby Dot:

This one was a meh for me. It didn’t do Lotta any favor. I know she’s the trusting type, but she’s not dumb and certainly not the type to willfully delude herself. I think this was a bit of a miss step. Thankfully they didn’t do the cliche of scamming Zoe out of the ticket she sold. Lotta’s online appeal did fit her character and kudos to Crush4you to being stand up guys and respecting their fans like that.

The Cheer Hunter: Dot’s entertainment:

And more character development in an unexpected direction. So far Zoe’s two appearances had her solidly in the antagonist role, but here we she she’s actually a person, not just a stereotype. Also Maria feeling generally dissed by Zoe fast-tracking Lotta felt genuine. It’s nice to see them do plots that don’t involve someone getting their comeuppance. And everybody coming together to cheer Lotta up was a perfect touch. Also, Dot and Stu being completely (whatever) to the whole situation was funny as hell.

And once again we have Dot at her Obsessive Compulsive best. She discovers a new side to herself and like Dot, naturally takes this to the extreme. Also, nice to get a glimpse of how Dot’s brain works. Also, Fluffy’s still around, what? You do remember that was just a rat covered in garbage can fuzz, right?

I wanna Crush Your Hand:

And this is where the dip in the season started. I’m just going to say it now, I’m not the target demo for boy bands, not by a long shot. But, that wasn’t the problem I had with this episode. No the main problem was Lotta’s obsession taking up the whole spotlight. It felt like Audrey and Dot just got shoved into the background. Plus this episode just dragged. I’ve gotta say it, I think the two stories an ep format works best for this series. The double-length story just doesn’t fit, here.

Beyond Thunder Dot: Ten things I hate about Ew:

And this is where the season hit the valley for me. Seriously, you’re doing the “Let’s shove the environmental message down kids throats” Thing in 2019? I thought that went out of fashion in the 2010s. But, the most galling thing for me was all that character developing they were doing came to a complete halt. Frufru’s character development? Nah, let’s just turn her into a low rent Captain Planet villain. And since when did Dot get that preachy? I’m sorry but this got so painful for me I had to stop the ep and walk away. Ten things I hate about Ew might have been a decent episode, I don’t know. And I never will if I have to sit through this outdated, anvilicious garbage to get to it.

Something’s Glotta Give/Afernoon Contrite:

I think the main thing with this story is it made no sense to me. I thought Gerald and Lotta got together in season one, now Lucretia’s trying to hook them up, what?

This is where the season started to pick back up for me. It’s nice to see that even after the previous character development Melvin can still be Melvin. It’s nice to see that Lotta tries to fix things, even if she did it by accident, but naive Lotta is back and I just don’t know how I feel about that. Still seeing Melvin get a bit more character growth saved this one.

Can’t Hardly Wait/Bring it Prawn:

Ah that’s more like it. This touches my fanfic-writing heart. It’s nice to see Lucretia stretching her active imagination. It’s also nice to see the Audrey Girls and Tiny encouraging her self confidence. Plus in short order we got return of Audrey the Destroyer, Sci-Fi Dot and Lotta Moon, what’s not to love?

Thank you! Thank you for showing that cartoon siblings can do more than just fight with each other. This almost makes up for the environmental debacle, almost. In one fell swoop we see Maria and Melvin get along and Zoe and Audrey put their differences aside and work together for a common cause. Bonus points seeing Zoe stick up for Audrey. Audrey may be an annoying twerp, but she’s Zoe’s annoying twerp, damn it! Also, anyone else imagine buff Zoe and Audrey when Dot kept saying aabs.

Hover, may I board with danger/free Gilly:

And here’s Stu’s character development. Stu always seemed the odd man out. While Zoe and Maria have Audrey and Melvin to play off of, Stu was just sort of there. Now we see his too cool for school attitude is really a front for him being sensitive and a little insecure, that’s a nice touch. Also Audrey gets to grow as a person. First she was just legit conning Stu for time on the hover board, which was really just a Segway without the handles, but then she genuinely gets into the contact juggling. And one of her plans actually works for once, what? Also, what is up with Bobby this season, last season he was the older kid who doled out sage advice and could be a little jerkish sometimes. Now this season the sage advice stuff is all but gone and we just get the jerk, everyone else gets character development, but Bobby actually backslides a bit, guess they had to cut corners somewhere.

Finally a payoff to the running gag of Audrey’s goldfish issues. Nice to see that finally wrapped up. But, was it strictly necessary to give the animals voices? Okay, I admit it wasn’t so bad for Bobby the skunk, but every freaking animal? Yeesh, I mean there is such a thing as subtlety.

That thing you Dot!/Where the streets have no games:

You know, at first I thought I was going to hate bring Chevron back, didn’t she and Dot make peace back in season one? But, then I found that I really didn’t hate it. Dot used the wrong word. Chevron is not a frenemy, she’s a competitor and that may actually be a good thing. Dot and Chevron are very similar, they like to take hobbies to the absolute extreme and there’s nothing wrong with that. They two drive each other to succeed. In fact if they didn’t have each other they probably wouldn’t do half as much as they do. And Kudos bring Penny back and giving her a voice, she’s going to be the lead Harvey Avenue kid, I just feel it.

And here we are, okay, I’ll go through ep first before getting to the diamond-studded elephant in the room. Nice commentary on mobile games and how their designed to addict you. And yeah they really are just excuses to gather data. Also, nice touch Lotta and Audrey being the only ones who weren’t suckered in. Sadly Dot’s obsessive compulsive tendencies made her an easy target. But, then we go into that cliffhanger. Yeesh, that cliffhanger.

Finale Thoughts:

I’ll just say it. I know they were going to pull Richie in at some point. But to quote the Bow, not this way. The entire idea behind Richie Rich is that in spite of being the richest kid on Earth, Richie was a normal, average kid, who just wanted to make friends and have fun. He was never portrayed as being snobbish, sheltered or clueless.

Only now it’s clear Richie set up the mobile game and the contest to try to figure out how kids have fun. Not only is being clueless, he’s using money to try to solve his problems, which Richie never did.

And worse it’s predictable. I can tell where this story is going. The Harvey girls together maxed out the fun-o-meter, so Richie’s going to take them off to his estate to be his new friends and the Harvey Girls are going to bring him down to Earth.

But, they shouldn’t have to. Richie has always been portrayed as already being down to Earth. Now they’re going out of their way to portray Richie as a clueless rich kid who doesn’t understand how the real world works, and that is just wrong. That’s not Richie. Although nice touch with the Irona reference.

But, there’s something that worries me even more. Now that you’ve pulled the pin on Richie, where do you go with him from here, does he become a regular? I hate to say it, but I hope not.

You have to remember, that by default, Richie is the biggest presence in the room. If you over use him he could quickly over shadow Audrey and the others, in fact, he already has once before.

I’m taking about Harvey Comics. For over ten years, Audrey, Lotta, Dot and their friends ruled Harvey comics. Then Richie, Wendy and Casper came along. And within a few short years Audrey and company were all but forgotten. I just hope to go they have enough sense not to try to make this the Richie Rich show. I think they do. I think they understand a way to use Richie right and they already done it in the same episode, with Chevron.

Chevron is a big personality, so they don’t overuse her. So far she’s shown up once a season and that’s just right for her. It’s all she needs. If she were on regularly she’d drown the others out too much. But, this way when she shows up it’s a big deal. I think that’s the perfect approach to take with Richie, less is more. Just don’t turn him into a clueless rich kids, please?

#harvey-street-kids #Harvey-Girls-Forever

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twdeadfanfic · 6 years

Text

Life at the end of the world Pt.6

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note: Sixth part of my first twd fanfic, I’ve been itching to write something like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

Next morning the search for Sophia continued after Daryl informed Rick and Shane of his idea of going alone, and you split groups to search through the places Daryl and Rick believed to be your best chances.

You were with Andrea and T-Dog, glad you were still on the search even if it wasn’t with Daryl. You were feeling better and you felt a bit silly you’d reacted like that to him telling you he’d go alone, like if it had meant you were totally pushed off the search because you weren’t good enough.

You guessed you’d been going through lots of emotions and even the smallest things triggered you now sometimes.

You tried your hardest but went back to the farm without any trace of Sophia, same like Shane and Rick. Daryl wasn’t back yet, he’d more ground to explore, and you could just hope he’d have better luck than all you.

There wasn’t much to do besides waiting for Daryl, so Shane decided it was time to start your shoot training. You all drove to the place he had decided was the best and started with the basics, how to hold the gun, charge, and everything you might need before starting shooting at your targets.

By the end of the practice, you were feeling content enough, managing clean shots your targeted bottles almost all the time. Still, you knew it wasn’t that easy to shoot to something that was moving, especially if you had to move too.

Later that day, you were sitting alone on the porch. Carol and Lori had told you about their plan to make a big dinner Hershel’s family as a thank you, but you weren’t as good of a cook as them, and between them, Patricia and Beth the kitchen was quite full.

When you saw Maggie walking near you, you decided to go and talk with her for a bit, maybe get to know her a bit better. Besides, you’d seen the hearts in Glenn’s eyes since they went together on a run, and the farmer girl didn’t seem to mind his company either.

“Ey, Maggie, hi!” You greeted.

“Hi, Y/N right?” She greeted you. “You need something?”

“Nah, I was just passing time. I don’t cook well enough to be making the feast they have planned.” You giggled awkwardly.

“Yeah, me neither.” Maggie gave you a genuine smile. “You can help me set the table if you want, though.”

“Sure, fine!” You smiled back. “By the way, I wanted to ask you, what are your intentions towards my boy Glenn?” You couldn’t help but tease.

Maggie's face went serious and she frowned at you. “What the hell are you talking about.” She grumbled.

“I was just joking...” You raised your hands in surrender. “But everyone can see how he looks at you...”

“Really?” Maggie seemed mortified.

“He gives you the heart eyes.” You chuckled fondly. “You don’t like him then?” You had thought she did...if not then Glenn’s heart was going to break and you really hated having to see that.

“Not really...I mean...I don’t know?” Maggie shrugged and his cheeks turned pink, and you couldn’t help your smile... Maybe she did like him after all.

“He’s...he’s sweet, I enjoy being with him...but I don’t know if I like him like that, you know?” Maggie kept talking. “We just met and...I don’t know...”

“Well, all I can tell you is that Glenn is really a good guy.” You said seriously. “And good things don’t seem to happen much in this world anymore, so if you enjoy being with him, then maybe you should? I don’t know, I’m not that good at this stuff actually...”

“Yeah, well, maybe you are right...Thanks.” Maggie gave you a smile. “Help me with that table?”

“Sure thing.” You nodded but didn’t move, your eyes scanning the path to the woods.

Daryl hadn’t come back and you knew he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, it wasn’t the first time he was alone in the woods, he’d been there at night too, but still, you worried. What if something had happened to him and you didn’t know.

You tried to end that train of thoughts. Probably he was just taking advantage of as many sun hours as he could, he’d be back after dinner when the sun went down. Maybe he had even found Sophia.

“The man of the crossbow’s still out there looking for the little girl, right?” Maggie asked you, following your eyes, and you nodded. “I hope you’ll find her soon.”

“Yeah, me too...” You murmured, following Maggie inside to prepare everything in the dining-room.

A moment later you were back at the porch. Hershel had walked into the room and had looked pointedly at you, making you understand he wanted to talk with her daughter alone, so you shrugged, gave Maggie a smile and left, hoping she wasn’t about to be scolded for Glenn or something.

You were sitting down on the stairs, focused on your book, when you heard a gunshot. Dropping the book you rushed to your feet and ran towards the sound. You gasped aloud when you saw Rick and Shane dragging a blood-stained, unconscious Daryl.

“What happened?!” You asked panicking.

“I...I shot him...I thought he was a walker...I...” Andrea replied, seeming in shock.

“Not time for that now.” Rick cut her off.

You nodded and ran back to the farm as fast as you could, calling for Hershel, who rushed out, helping Shane and Rick carry Daryl into the downstairs room, Patricia rushing in too, carrying everything Hershel might need.

Time seemed to pass slower than ever as you waited for news about Daryl’s condition. You were sitting down with Carol, holding hands as you both looked anxiously towards the corridor. Carol’s other hand hold Sophia’s doll against her chest. T-Dog had given it to her, telling her Daryl had brought it with him.

After what seemed an eternity but wasn’t even that long, Rick finally appeared with news.

“He’ll pull through, he’s doing fine.” He reassured all you.

You grimaced as Rick explained how Daryl had taken an arrow to the side, besides the bullet that grazed the side of his head, and seemed to be pretty banged up, amazed he was still not only alive but doing fine, as fine as anyone could be after all that.

“He told us where he found the doll, Carol, we can keep looking around there,” Rick told to Carol gently, but she just nodded silently.

That evening you were all having the most delicious, yet silent and tense dinner you had had since the world went to hell, when you saw Maggie and Glenn passing notes under the table. You smiled, arching your eyebrows at the girl and she rolled her eyes but smiled.

You saw Dale and Hershel were noticing too, as if the dinner weren’t uncomfortable enough. Still, you almost had to chuckle, Hershel was Maggie’s daughter and now Dale seemed to be acting like Glenn’s father, both worried about their kids dating. Some things never changed.

“I’m gonna get Daryl some dinner,” Carol told you and you nodded. You finally got to have a real dinner and the poor one was bedridden.

It seemed the mood wasn’t going to improve anytime soon, so right after you finished everyone got up and began helping, taking everything back to the kitchen and doing the wash-up, making plans for the morrow and taking care of everything that needed to be taken care.

You made your way to see Daryl, wanting to check on him, you hadn’t seen him yet and also intending to take his plate back to the kitchen. You knocked on the door and walked in.

He’d the sheets wrapped around him tightly and up to his chin, his back to you, and you couldn’t help a soft giggle. You thought he looked kind of cute like that, like a Daryl burrito wrapped in sheets.

You’d thought he was asleep but the turned to face you when he heard you snicker, frown on his face and glaring at you.

“What you laughing at?” He growled.

“Nothing...” You shook your head, not wanting to voice your silly thoughts.

Daryl was looking at you angrily and you realized he thought you were laughing at him.

“I just thought it was fun to see you so wrapped in sheets.” You tried to explain without making an idiot of yourself. “Looking like a human burrito or something, you know...” You tailed off, embarrassed.

Daryl was still eyeing you warily but eventually seemed to decide you weren’t making fun of him and relaxed a bit, but still looked at you cautiously.

“You okay?” You forced yourself to ask despite the awkwardness, you’d gone there to check on him after all.

“Vet says I am...doesn’t feel like it though.” He grumbled and you thought you’d never heard him sound so tired.

“I bet...” You murmured, looking at the bandage that covered the side of his head were Andrea’s bullet had grazed him. “You were just shot.”

“Fell on my own damn arrow too.” He growled grumpily. “Fucking horse threw me downhill..”

So that’s how it’d happened, you’d been wondering about it. You still thought it was a miracle he was alive.

“Too stubborn to die, right?” You joked darkly and nervous, trying to lighten the mood a bit and to your surprise, Daryl chuckled at your words.

“Wanted to prove something to my brother.” He rasped. “Piss him off too.”

“I saw him, hallucinated him or something.” He explained when he saw your confused face. “Told me I was going to die there.”

“Always an ass even in hallucinations.” You rolled your eyes.

“I liked to see him...” Daryl murmured, sounding vulnerable. You knew he missed his brother, no matter how Merle had been. “Until he started talking bullshit. Said some truths, tho.”

“Like what?” You were genuinely curious. Merle wasn’t there, whatever he’d said to Daryl had to come from his own mind.

Daryl said nothing, shifting to the further side of the bed and turning his back to you again, finishing the conversation for good. As he turned, though, the sheets fell off his back and your eyes opened wide when you saw the scars that marred his skin.

“How you got those?” You asked, shocked, before you couldn’t stop yourself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t...” You added quickly, flustered at your indiscretion.

The scars were intentional, there was no doubt about it, as they seemed to follow patterns. And almost all his back was marked with them, different sizes but all looking deep and painful.

Daryl looked over his shoulder and lifted the sheets to cover his back again quickly when he saw what you were talking about. You apologized again, taking the trail and making to leave.

“Told you my father was an ass...” Daryl muttered so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him before you could open the door.

You were horrified. You’d already put together that his family had treated him badly and that he’d probably been neglected as a kid, but this was something else. You couldn’t believe his own father could have done something like that to him. It broke your heart.

“I’m sorry...” You whispered, making Daryl turn around to glare at you angrily.

“I need no pity!” He snapped, looking at you in disgust.

“It’s not pity...” You tried to explain. You felt sorry, yes, but it was no pity. What you felt was the need to protect him and it took you aback. You knew Daryl needed no protection whatsoever, but still, you felt the urge to guard him against any more harm. And you were totally enraged at his family.

“Yeah, I know what you and your friends think of me.” He grumbled, still glaring you.

You were confused for a second but then realized it might be something his hallucinated Merle had told him. Which meant it was something he thought deep down, and it pained you to think he might believe all of you thought ill of him. You couldn’t speak for everyone, but you knew most of them appreciated the efforts he was doing and valued him. At least you did, and for Carol, he was a hero.

“I don’t know what you think...what Merle told you...but you said it, it’s bullshit.” You gathered enough courage to speak, no matter the angry way he was looking at you was making you uneasy and telling you to fly out of the room.

“I think you’re brave and I’m grateful you are helping us and looking for Sophia. And so is Carol.” You blushed at your words.

Daryl said nothing but his eyes were not that angry anymore, just wary, but you saw he’d blushed too. He said nothing and turned his back to you again and without another world, you left the room.

****

You yawned, getting out of the RV early in the morning. Carol had offered to keep sharing the bed and you had accepted, not only to sleep in a real bed instead of in a sleeping bag but also for the comfort of sleeping next to someone instead of in the loneliness of the tent.

Since the dead started walking the earth, you didn’t enjoy your time alone as much as you used to. And you had gotten used to always have someone not far from you. You felt vulnerable alone in the tent.

You saw Daryl limp out of the house and made his way slowly into his tent, grimacing here and there.

“I feel so bad...” Andrea complained, stopping next to you.

“Come on, it was a mistake, you thought him a walker...” You tried to comfort her. Stumbling around covered in blood he had probably looked like one. “And if he’d been a walker you’d have almost nailed him.” You chuckled softly, wondering when you started to have such a dark sense of humor, but Andrea didn’t seem amused at your words.

“I almost killed him...” She blamed herself.

“But you didn’t, he doesn’t blame you,” Carol assured her.

“I’m going to apologize,” Andrea said before heading towards Daryl’s tent resolutely.

You saw Rick and Shane were looking at the map again and you made your way towards him, eager to start doing something. Turned out you weren’t starting the search for Sophia right away, first you’d do some shooting practice.

You knew it was important, but looking for Sophia should be the priority. Still, you didn’t complain aloud, not wanting to cause an argument.

This time, Andrea and you tried aiming at further and further targets until you couldn’t keep up with her.

“Damn girl, have you been practicing in your sleep or something?” You chuckled softly, amazed at her. You could just hope your aim would be that good someday.

After your training session, you split to look for Sophia again. Shane told you he’d go with Andrea to check some housing area in which he thought Sophia might have hauled up while Rick, Carol and you checked the woods again.

Both places where a bust and you felt your mood going down and down. You felt you weren’t doing enough and you were frustrated, but didn’t know what to do about it. You got into the RV, lying on the bed and intending to finish Glenn’s book, oblivious to any drama that might’ve been going on outside.

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep on the book until you felt the bed shifting under the weight of Carol. You opened your eyes and realized the sun was already down.

“Ey...” You greeted groggily, shifting to the side of the bed to give Carol more room.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Carol said quietly. “Go back to sleep.”

You nodded, yawning. “Have you seen Daryl?” You hadn’t seen him since he went to his tent in the morning, and you wondered if he was doing okay.

“Brought him dinner, he’s doing fine,” Carol told you with a small smile. “Bored. Cranky. But okay.”

“Good...” You whispered half asleep and soon you were dreaming again.

@momc95 @jodiereedus22 @osweetdevilo@sapphire1727@coffeebooksandfandom

I never thought anyone’d like to be tag in any of my stories so thank you! It means the world! <3

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #daryl fanfiction #dar #daryl imagine #life at the end of the world #lew #is anyone enjoying this or just me...

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thewriterandthewitch · 7 years

Text

Audrey knows best (MadWife)

One short fanfic.

Laura x MadSweeney (MadWife)

Rating: Teen and Up. (Mentions of sex)

Summary:

Laura returns to her best friend's house to ask for another favor. This time, she brings a tall leprechaun with her.

You can read it here or in ao3.

Audrey knows best

“Have you had any new hallucinations?”

The psychologist asks the question she has been asking her every week and Audrey shakes her head, in a mute “no”, while she fixes her eyes in the ugly butterfly-shaped pin the woman wears on her lapel.

Rhonda Machado may be an exceptional psychologist but she has a horrible fashion sense. She doesn’t ask another question and Audrey looks up, confused and impatient. She knows the game her psychologist is playing: Silence makes everyone uncomfortable and if Rhonda lets it fill the room for too long, Audrey will end up confessing her most disturbing thoughts. The problem is that it always works.

“Why a zombie? Why couldn’t I hallucinate her as she was before she died?” Audrey shakes her head. “Sewing her arm back was positively disgusting.”

“I don’t know. The mind is a complex mechanism. Do you want to venture a guess?”

Audrey shrugs. “Maybe I wanted to punish her… so I imagined her as a corpse. She was always too pretty outside, too ugly inside.” Even as she says it, she feels a little bit guilty, but she swallows it back.

“Why were you friends then, if she was too ugly inside?”

“I was naïve. I thought she was unreachable and cruel to men but genuine to me.” She laughs, letting the anger rein free. “I was so fucking stupid.” Audrey blinks, allows herself to be lost in her own thoughts and then, she rushes to apologize. “I am sorry for my vocabulary.”

“You can swear if it makes you feel better.”

It shouldn’t but it fucking does. And only for a second, Audrey understands her dead former best friend – because Laura loved to use the crudest words to describe everything. She looked delicate outside but she had such a dirty mouth. Men loved that.

“I always envied the spell she had on men. They smiled at her as if she was the most enchanting princess they had ever met and they just felt the need to protect her at any cost. Shadow wasn’t an exception. Laura smiled back at them, she batted her eyelashes and seduced them in her own subtle way – but it was never real, you know, she liked the attention but she never really cared about them.” She shakes her head, feeling suddenly sad. “Shadow wasn’t an exception.” She repeats.

Audrey remembers when Zombie Laura told her Shadow was the light of her life, and now she wants to laugh hysterically again, but she contains herself.

When Audrey leaves her psychologist’s office, she doesn’t feel better – or saner for that matter. She understands that Laura was only a hallucination, a product of her mind, but she still can remember the pungent smell and the sounds of her bowel movements. It was so disgusting that it’s difficult to accept it wasn’t real.

She decides to go buy food and some ingredients to make pies. She knows she still has plenty of apple pie in the fridge but making them has become her latest obsession. Once, before her life became a fucking Greek tragedy, she loved to decorate scrapbooks – now, the mere sight of colored paper makes her want to puke. Cooking is therapeutic; it saves her from her thoughts, her anger, and her tears.

Audrey only spends half an hour in the supermarket and she arrives home just before the sunset. When her car reaches the driveway, she’s surprised to find a heavily damaged ice truck parked in front of her house. Audrey grabs her grocery bag and steps out of the car without taking her eyes off the ice cream truck.

She almost shrieks when she recognizes Laura Moon, her particular zombie hallucination, in front of the wheel. She looks alive, or dead, or something in between – a little bit worse for wear than the last time she hallucinated her. Audrey hugs her grocery bag against her chest and starts walking toward the main door with urgent steps.

“Audrey!” Laura calls after her, getting out of the truck.

“No, no, no, no. You’re not real!” She screams, not stopping for a second.

Audrey allows herself only a quick peek, to check if Laura is still there. She is and she isn’t alone. A very tall redheaded man descends from the copilot seat and leans against the hood. He has scratches on his face and he looks quite intimidating. The man reminds her of the rough-looking lumberjacks and hunters from the covers of her romantic novels.

“What…?” Laura starts asking but Audrey slams the door in her face.

Safe inside her house, Audrey takes a deep breath to calm her fast-beating heart. She moves toward the kitchen's window and positions herself in a spot where she can still see them without being seen. She watches in silence how Laura returns to the car to grab a box of chocolates and then, she brusquely “hands” it to the tall man, hitting him in the stomach with it.

“Why do I have to bring the chocolates? She’s your friend!”

“Because you smell… well, not good, exactly. Just slightly less disgusting than me.” Laura answers. “I don’t want the chocolates to smell like expired meat.”

The man snorts, a prideful smile forming on his face.

Laura stops in front of her door. “Audrey, I’m very embarrassed I’m doing this again but… I need your help. I brought… I brought some peace offering.”

“I don’t think a box of chocolates will make her forget you died with her husband’s dick inside your mouth.” The man retorts and Audrey nods, agreeing with him, even when he can’t see her.

Laura sighs but doesn’t contradict him. She keeps speaking to the closed door. “We’re going to stay here, waiting, until you open this door. We aren’t going anywhere.”

Audrey shakes her head, furious. She opens the main door and looks at Laura with hate.

Laura smiles as if everything was fine with the world. “Hello, Audrey.”

“You’re dead… and rotting on my doormat.”

Laura simply nods. She seems unperturbed about this fact and Audrey considers it a clear sign that she’s just a product of her imagination.

The redhead turns lightly towards Laura. “I thought she already knew.”

“She does.” Laura looks back at Audrey. “You know. Remember? We had a heart to heart, first in the bathroom, then in your car.”

“Yes. I mean… no.” Audrey shakes her head. “I talked to my psychologist and we decided that you were a product of my imagination. It took weeks, weeks, you hear me? But I finally came to terms with the fact that you weren’t real, that I just made you up because I was feeling guilty for hating you so much when you were dead and buried.”

Laura sighs and shakes her head. She walks into the house without asking for permission. A putrid smell hits Audrey when she passes in front of her so she steps back and covers her nose with her hand. Laura shows her a resigned and even self-deprecating smile.

“If I were only part of your imagination… would I smell so bad?”

“I assure you she’s real. She wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass if she weren’t.” The tall redhead man says.

Audrey blinks at him, “And who are you?”

“Mad Sweeney.” He says, offering her his hand to shake.

“Mad?” She asks while she shakes his hand.

He nods. “Mad as a hatter.” He says, showing a smile that seems too long and two white-teethed for his face.

Without bothering to ask permission, Laura turns the AC on with such strength that she almost tears the wheel off. “Cold is good to conserve cadavers, you know.” She explains. Audrey doesn’t know what to answer to that so she simply nods. Laura moves her hand over her collarbone, where the seams are opening and Audrey can see her bones. “Audrey, I know you still hate me and you’re in your right… but as I said, I need another favor.”

Audrey folds her arms and looks at her former best friend with apprehension. “Is it the car, again?” She holds back from commenting that Laura’s truck is a complete mess.

“No. We need to stay here for some days. It won’t be for long…” Laura shoos away a fly that’s circling over her head. “Well, he needs a place to stay. I will come and go. I have some… errands to do.”

“What kind of trouble are you in? And I don’t want more lies, Laura, I’ve had enough of your secrets…”

Audrey observes how Laura and Mad Sweeney exchange stares. He nods, answering Laura’s mute question. Audrey looks at their wordless understanding with unconcealed surprise. In all the years she has known Laura, she has seen multiple guys trying to form an emotional connection with her but their stares and smiles were always one-sided. Laura smiled back at them but in the same way than an actress smiles at her co-lead, they were never genuine smiles.

“He betrayed a god so he needs to hide somewhere,” Laura explains as if she were explaining the plot of a new movie.

Audrey raises a brow. “A god?”

“A Nordic god, to be more precise,” Sweeney adds. “A one-eyed manipulative son of a bitch with a penchant for storms.”

Audrey shakes her head and looks at Laura with anger, “That’s the lie you want to feed me? You’re hiding from a fucking god?”

Laura extends her arms, showing the marks of her body. “Is that really so difficult to believe?”

Audrey bites her lip, trying to resist the temptation of believing her. Hallucinating her dead best friend is one thing, believing in the existence of a dangerous Nordic god is something else entirely.

Audrey looks at Mad Sweeney with an expression of mocking disbelief. “And what are you, then? A genie?”

“Do I look like a sodding genie?” He asks, deeply offended. “I am a leprechaun.”

She raises both brows, not even trying to hide her skepticism. “A leprechaun? Well, you don’t look like a leprechaun, either. Shouldn’t you be more…?” She gestures with her hand, indicating the size of a kid or a dwarf.

“Don’t even say it. Nobody likes stereotypes.” Sweeney says, with an almost threatening tone.

“So about that favor… what do you say?” Laura asks with a pleading tone. It’s an odd expression in her face, something Audrey hasn’t seen before.

Once again, Audrey bites her lip, meditating. She smiles with courtesy at Sweeney. “Do you mind if I talk with Laura in private?”

Sweeney gestures with his hands, expressing that he doesn’t mind. Audrey grabs her former best friend from the arm and pushes her towards her bedroom. Once they’re inside, she locks the door.

“Who is he?”

Laura blinks, confused. “We weren’t lying. He’s actually a leprechaun.”

“No. Who is he to you?”

“A travel companion. That’s all. He needs something I have, I need his guidance… more or less.”

Audrey looks at her with disbelief. She knew Laura. She knew Laura’s relationship with men – it was always a sordid, depressing and very basic-needs affair.

“Is that how they call it nowadays?”

Laura raises both eyebrows, surprised as if the thought had never crossed her mind. “It’s just a platonic business arrangement and I’m married.”Audrey looks at her with a face that clearly says: ‘are you fucking with me?’ Laura shakes her head and for a moment, she even looks embarrassed. “Well, I am dead and I am pretty sure my vagina isn’t in the right position anymore.”

“So how does that work? You being alive when your organs aren’t in the right position…”

“Long story short: I have a magic coin inside my belly that’s keeping me alive. Ginger Minge here wants that coin so he’s trying to find a solution. Meaning: Resurrection.” Laura stops to swallow a worm that has crept through her throat to her mouth, and continues. “He took me to the goddess Easter but she said she couldn’t resurrect me because I was killed by a god who calls himself Mr. Wednesday.”

“You met Easter? You mean… like Happy Easter? Bunnies and Chocolates?”

“Yes, she’s very nice but useless for what I need… I haven’t given up, though. I will fucking hunt God himself if that’s what it takes.”

Audrey frowns. “What the hell happened to you? When you were alive, you were the biggest atheist I knew and… now you’re looking for God? We live and then we die and we rot. Those were your exact words.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly wrong,” Laura answers, caressing one of her scars with the tips of her fingers.

“You’re also hanging out with a damn leprechaun and running away from gods, and you tell me all this with the biggest conviction.”

“Yes, now I’m a great believer. Whatever. This world fucking sucks and gods aren’t much better… but I don’t have time to discuss religion, ok? So can he stay?”

Audrey looks at the closed door, remembering the strange leprechaun that’s still waiting in her living room. “Can I trust him?”

“He won’t hurt you,” Laura says.

Audrey notices that she didn’t exactly say she could trust him and, for a second, she considers throwing them out of her house but she doesn’t - because lately, her life has been an endless cycle of pity parties and boring days. She needs a distraction and she’s damn curious, too. It’s probably a horrible idea to offer refuge to a leprechaun who has infuriated some dangerous gods but the idea of knowing about that world and not being part of it is even more distressing. She’s tired of being in the dark, so she nods.

“Yes, you both can stay.”

Laura smiles, looking relieved. Audrey doesn’t return the smile – they aren’t friends again. She only nods her head, as if this was a business transaction, and moves to open the door.

Audrey steps out of the bedroom with a friendly smile and looks at Mad Sweeney, who is still waiting in the middle of her living room, holding the box of chocolates:

“Apple pie?” She asks.

+++

The three of them sit at the table, around the apple pie. Mad Sweeney is eating as if this was his last day on earth but Audrey can’t swallow even a bite because she can feel Laura’s strong scent in her taste buds. The silence is uncomfortable and, for a second, it reminds her of her therapy sessions.

“So… are you from Ireland, then?” Audrey asks, trying to be nice.

Mad Sweeney looks up, surprised that she’s addressing him. “There’s no one more Irish than me in this country, deary.”

“What about your parents? Did they immigrate here, too?”

This time, he seems really shocked by the question, “Nobody has ever asked me about my parents before.”

“Please, don’t get all emotional on us now,” Laura tells him, cruelly. Mad Sweeney gestures at her with his big hand, as if he was shooing away a fly.

“Actually, I haven’t thought of my parents in a long time… I was human once. A king, you know?”

Laura rolls her eyes but Audrey bends over the table, interested. “You mean a real king? Crown on your head…?”

“Aye, and a throne under my butt.”

Audrey feels tempted to tell him he doesn’t look like royalty but she doesn’t want to offend her guest.

“What happened to your kingdom?” She asks, instead.

“People killed it – when they stopped believing in it. That’s the worst way of killing someone, you know, forgetting them.”

Audrey nods, understanding. She may have never been a queen but she knows how it feels to be forgotten.

“I know what you mean. In some way, I was forgotten too.” She looks at Laura, who seems busy making a mess of her apple pie with her fork, without eating it. “My husband cheated on me with my best friend. The two people I loved the most forgot all about little me… they took me for granted, disrespected me and fucked each other when I wasn’t looking.” Furious now, Audrey looks at Laura. “Was the sex good, at least?”

Laura, looking resigned and guilty, shakes her head. “Not at all.” She says. “He was too insecure, especially with his tongue, always wanting to please.”

“Fuck you, Laura.” Audrey spits out.

Instead of feeling out of place, Mad Sweeney makes himself comfortable on the chair and looks at them as if they were the protagonists of a popular soap opera.

Audrey, however, feels embarrassed by her fit of anger and she looks at Mad Sweeney with mortification. “I am really sorry. That was very uncivilized of me.”

“Civilized is overrated,” Sweeney says.

“He’s more foul-mouthed than the two of us combined. Believe me.” Laura says but Audrey avoids looking at her. Laura rolls her eyes. “Come on, Audrey. What do you want me to say? I’m sorry?”

“Why did you do it?”

“My cat died and…”

“Okay, and my grandmother died five years ago and instead of having an affair, I spent my Christmas bonus on comfort food.”

“He was close, he was just there…” Laura tries to explain.

Audrey shakes her head. She looks up at Sweeney. “Boy, you had bad luck!” The leprechaun nods in agreement although Audrey hasn’t explained yet what she means. “You lost your opportunity to ride the whore. If she had been alive during your road trip, she would’ve jumped your bones… just because you were there.”

Mad Sweeney raises a brow; he seems more amused than uncomfortable.

“For God’s sake, Audrey…” Laura exclaims and she looks at Sweeney’s amused smile. “And you, drop that smile, I wouldn’t have fucked you even if you were the last penis on earth.”

“Are you sure? You have a weird obsession with my prick.” Sweeney pretends to be recalling the different moments. “First, I go to pee, there you come… wishing to take a peek, I’m sure. Then, you hold my balls in your hands…”

Audrey opens her eyes wide, surprised.

“Over his pants!” Laura specifies, for Audrey’s benefit. Then, she looks back at Sweeney. “And do I have to remind you I was aiming to hurt you and not give you pleasure?”

“Oh, darling… but there’s such a thin line between pain and pleasure.”

“Really? Next time, I will make sure to crack them.” Laura shakes her head and looks at Audrey. “As you see, he’s a disgusting piece of shit. I would never fuck him. Dead or Alive.”

Laura sends a heated stare toward Sweeney, challenging him to contradict her. However, it’s Audrey who talks:

“I would.” She says, shrugging.

“What?” Laura asks, confused.

“I would fuck him.” Audrey specifies. She sends a seductive smile towards Sweeney, who looks adorably surprised.

Laura shakes her head, uncomfortable, disgusted and for some reason, angry.

+++

Audrey shows her a small room, a lot smaller than the one where Sweeney is staying. It has a big window, though, which will help with her putrid smell. Laura touches the pillow with her fingers and tries not to remember all the times she stayed over for a girly sleepover with Audrey.

“It’s a good thing you have so many spare rooms,” Laura says, with an uncharacteristic shyness.

“Yes, we bought a big house because we wanted a big family. Good thing it never happened, though.” Audrey answers, with bitterness.

Laura nods, looking guilty again. “You should tell Mad Sweeney you were joking, you know. If you don’t want him to come to your room in the middle of the night…”

Audrey smiles, making Laura even more uncomfortable. “How old do you think he is?” Audrey asks. Laura immediately recognizes the tone of her voice. It’s the same she used during college when she asked Laura to find out if a boy she liked was an artist, a law student or a computer geek.

“He doesn’t look over forty.” Laura answers.

“Yes, but he’s a leprechaun… isn’t he like 200 years old or something? Like the vampires from the movies.”

“Maybe. Maybe older. I think he said once that he came to America in the 18th century.”

“Can you imagine how experienced he’s in bed?” Audrey asks, with a naughty and too curious smile.

Laura doesn’t answer, she just shakes her head and Audrey moves toward the door, getting ready to leave for her own bedroom. Laura doesn’t want the conversation to end on that note, though, so she calls her name. Audrey stops at the door, with her hand on the handle.

“He killed me. You know?” Laura says. “I thought my death was my fault but he was the one who caused the accident. Divine intervention, because a god ordered him to do it.”

Audrey frowns. “Why are you helping him, then?”

“Well, unfortunately… I need him.”

Audrey raises both brows. It’s the first time that she hears Laura saying that she needs anyone. Laura recognizes the expression on Audrey’s face and she shakes her head.

“No. I don’t need him in the abstract sense of the word. I need him for a very specific reason: My resurrection. He’s the guy who knows everyone – every god, in this case, and where they live. He’s just a very convenient GPS... so I need him alive until we find a solution to my alive-inside-a-rotting-corpse situation. The problem is that he has the tendency of awakening the fury of very powerful gods.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you should know who he really is… before you do something you can regret.”

“Oh. I see.” Audrey says. “I guess I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” Laura asks, confused.

“I thought you brought him as a peace offering: ‘Here you have this Sex God, have sex with him and be so grateful that you will forget that I fucked your husband.’ That would be your thought process – you’re messed up enough for that.”

“He’s not a Sex God.”

“Not literarily, maybe, but good enough for a mere mortal like me,” Audrey answers with a small smile. “In any way, it’s obvious you don’t want me to have sex with him.”

“I don’t care if you have sex with him.”

“No. It’s pretty obvious you don’t want me to… because you like him.”

“That’s absurd. Haven’t you heard us arguing before? He’s annoying as hell.”

“He killed you and you are still traveling with him. More than that, you’re protecting him from a god he pissed off… it’s the most selfless act I have seen you do in your whole life.”

“It’s not selfless if I have very selfish reasons to do it!”

“I thought you said you met Easter. I am sure she knows all the gods, too… which means you don’t really need Mad Sweeny and still, you don’t seem to want your revenge.” Audrey smiles, triumphant. “You like the leprechaun, Laura Moon.”

Laura shakes her head. “You’re wrong, but think whatever you want.” Laura puts a lock of her hair behind her ear and tries to talk with innocent indifference. “Does your very wrong assumption mean you’re not going to have sex with him?”

“What? No. As I already told you once: Fuck your feelings, Laura!” Audrey shows her an evil smile. “Sweet dreams.” She says, before exiting the room and closing the door.

Laura stays frozen on her spot for several seconds, trying to understand what she’s feeling and thinking. Death has made her more emotional – which it’s so fucking ironic. She doesn’t need to sleep anymore but she likes to pretend that she could, if she wanted to – so she lies on her back on the bed and looks at the ceiling as if she could see the stars there.

She doesn’t care if Audrey and Mad Sweeney have sex – but for some odd reason, she does. She’s a possessive person, and even when she isn’t interested at all in Mad Sweeney - or that's what she tells herself - she still likes to think he’s hers somehow. Her travel companion, her ally, her killer.

She pays attention to the silence, trying to hear steps or whispers outside her bedroom, but three hours go by without any noise. The fourth hour, however, breaks the quietness of the night. Outside, in the hallway, another door opens and Laura sits up on her bed with all her senses alert.

She immediately recognizes the leprechaun’s heavy steps and before she can realize what she’s doing, she’s opening her own door and looking at Sweeney with a very unfriendly expression. He jumps, surprised by her sudden presence, and takes some steps back.

“Fuck, Deadwife! You should wear a sleigh bell.”

“What? Are you scared of ghosts now?”

“Nah. The dead don’t scare me.”

“Where are you going?” Laura asks, her voice piercing and accusatory.

“Just going to the loo. Wanna come and take a look at my prick?”

Laura shakes her head, feeling more relieved than disgusted. She glances at Audrey’s closed door.

“I think I will take a rain check.”

“Maybe some day, Dead wife.” After these words, he starts heading towards the bathroom and Laura watches him walk away. She stands there until he enters the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

Laura glances at the closed door of Mad Sweeney’s bedroom and in a split second, she makes a decision.

+++

The first thing Mad Sweeney notices when he returns to his bedroom after taking a leak is Laura’s smell. It’s fucking impressive, in the worst way possible, that the thick walls that separate his bedroom from hers aren’t enough to protect him from her smell.

He sighs and doesn’t even bother to turn the light on. He’s so tired that he feels his bones aching and he just wants to lie on the bed and let his mind wander. He takes his shoes, his pants, and his shirt off; and throws them to the floor. It’s a natural ritual that he has done for years, but when he finally gets comfortable under the sheets, he feels his back touching a smooth-but-cold-as-ice something. A shiver shakes his whole body and he jumps out of bed, cursing under his breath.

“Can you stop screaming like a baby girl?” A familiar voice asks.

Mad Sweeney blinks, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. There, in front of him, lying on his bed is Laura Moon: As dead as always, as angry as ever. The leprechaun looks around the room, trying to figure out if he went to the wrong room but no – this is the guest room with the mustard yellow colored walls and the closet with the creaking door.

“What are you doing here?” He’s so tired he doesn’t even have the strength to insult her.

“Don’t jump to the wrong conclusions, Ginger Minge. I’m not interested in bumping uglies with you.”

“Well, then you’re the queen of the mixed signals, considering you’re in my bed.”

“I’m trying to save my friend from making a mistake. She’s grieving and emotional and she’s not thinking clearly.”

“I suppose I’m the mistake.” He says and Laura nods. “You always find new ways of insulting me. Well, fuck you… or better not, because I would rather not touch your moldy skin.”

She smiles, “You always find new ways to insult me.” She spits back at him. “What are you waiting for? Get into bed!”

Sweeney doesn’t move for several seconds, remembering the coldness of her inert body. He’s tempted to throw her out of the room with insults, curses and his picturesque vocabulary. He obeys her, instead. He’s not sure why - there’s simply something in her eyes that’s demanding and pleading at the same time and he doesn’t find the courage to disappoint her.

The bed is big and he tries to stay as far away from her as possible. The horrid smell reminds him of the boat that took him to the new world and he wonders, with bitterness, why every journey he starts includes companions with poor hygiene. It’s not Laura’s fault, he knows, but blaming her gives him a pathetic satisfaction.

“You’re going to fall from the bed if you keep moving farther,” Laura says, with a tight voice that indicates he has offended her. He doesn’t answer, but he creeps closer to her.

The silence dominates the next twenty minutes and, for a second, Sweeney thinks Laura has defeated her own death and has finally fallen asleep. Of course, it’s just wishful thinking. She clears her throat before talking:

“I don’t think this is a good hiding place for you. We will set off tomorrow to look for another.”

Sweeney doesn’t bother to ask her why. He thinks he knows. “Trying to protect your friend from the big bad leprechaun? And here I thought you were a crappy friend.”

“Well, better late than never.”

Laura is lying and she knows it. She’s still an asshole, a lepre-cunt. She doesn’t care for Audrey’s wishes or wants – not if they interfere with her own. She wants to be better but right now - as she lies in the darkness, listening to the silence and expecting Audrey to barge into the room with a nightie - she can only think: 'I can be better tomorrow. Tonight, I will be just myself.'

#madwife #fanfic #american gods #laura x mad sweeney #laura moon #mad sweeney #audrey burton

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roadswewalk · 7 years

Text

Time to lay some ghosts

Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.

- Elizabeth (Bennet) Darcy in Pride & Prejudice

[Disclaimer: Though far from my usual content, this is not an anti-Johnlock post, and it is not informed by TFP spoilers. It’s also not the new normal for my blog: we’ll be back to gifs and stupid jokes soon.]

I want to enjoy the possible last episode of my favorite show, and that means letting go of some expectations. This is largely a personal post that I’m writing to clarify my own thoughts and prepare mentally for TFP, but perhaps it may also help anyone who is dealing with shaken assumptions and unwanted or unexpected developments from T6T & TLD. If it does, then I’ll be glad. Anyone can feel free to reach out at any time with questions or just to talk about the show. I joined this fandom to engage with people, and I’m entering a strange interval where I have unusually minimal real-life obligations.

This post has two parts. Part one: notes on some specific theories that I’m finally rejecting post-TLD. Part two: thought process and personal attitude, for context. Skip part two if you don’t care - unless part one pisses you off, in which case I’d appreciate the chance to explain myself. That is, if anyone reads any of it at all. ;) All under the cut.

And yes, I realize many fans are well beyond this point mentally and emotionally:

Well, Watson, we can but possess our souls in patience and see what the hour may bring.

- Sherlock Holmes in The Adventure of the Three Garridebs

Conclusion: Bring it on, dads. You’re still pretty cool. Just don’t embarrass me unforgivably.

Or, if you’re indeed about to jump the shark, please do it at the climax of an epic jet-ski chase, replete with risk, loyalty, danger, hair dye, big coats, romance, gorgeous smiles, splashy effects, lame puns, excessive guns blazing, and impossible physics amazing. Well, you’ve promised the first few, anyway.

The ghosts I am laying to rest

Context: I am hiding from spoilers from the TFP screening (and apparently the Russian leak, WTF), so I don’t know as much as others right now, including what’s been confirmed or not. A bit of mood has filtered through from my activity feed (e.g no one’s laughing at Eurus jokes, or laughing much at all, or engaging with vague new theories). But I can’t draw specific conclusions from that, and otherwise I have no idea.

Knowing the nature of most of my followers, let me start by saying that I consider all of these theories to be logically separate from the basic possibility of canon Johnlock. I know some people feel differently, and have more elaborate theories that depend on certain characters being revealed in certain ways, etc. I won’t write “why Johnlock could still happen” for each item below. In general, it’s just this: it can be simpler than that, and still work. A hundred thousand fanfics have proven that. As a reminder, I am not a committed TJLC believer, though that’s not saying much, as I’m skeptical of everything - see part two for explanation.

I have flirted with these theories to varying degrees, but never actually invited them out for a foot chase or Chinese food. Most I’ve never even mentioned on here, primarily for lack of time, for coming too late to the fandom, or because I had nothing unique to add. So my comments in dismissing them are accordingly brief, and may come across as blunt. In all cases I’d be at least intrigued to be wrong - and knowing our writers, most likely pleasantly surprised as well.

Mary: She’s dead. This was part of the consequences we were promised for Sherlock and John’s insane lifestyle. And as awkward as the death scene was, John’s grief in the moment and throughout TLD was real. I’m letting her rest in peace. That includes leaving her murder case closed. It was shocking (in part for not being shocking enough), but was heralded adequately by the episode, the creators, and television history.

Mary as villain, Moriarty associate, etc.: Speaking of peace, there is by now plenty of textual evidence for Mary as a sympathetic character. The evidence for her villainy remains subtextual or subject to interpretation, and the challenges to her personality were always emotionally charged. As I’ve said elsewhere, the explanation given by the show for her shooting Sherlock is entirely acceptable within the show’s established boundaries. Even as a temporary romantic obstacle in a romance, she still wouldn’t qualify as a villain.

Anti-Johnlockary friendship: This is closely related to the above. Sherlock genuinely liked Mary, valued her judgment, and wanted John to be happy with her. This was clearly shown both textually and subtextually in TSoT and T6T. In T6T when he was anticipating his death, he may have even hoped that she would pick up where he left off, after. Her importance to John can’t be made clearer than in TLD. Meanwhile her advice to Sherlock in that episode is not really more ridiculous than what Sherlock did to himself the day after he met John Watson. The teasing between the three of them is pretty typical of mature, clever, close friends, in my experience.

Lazarus was false: The creators have said on a few occasions that they wished they had been as clever as the fans. Perhaps this is one case of it. But in the end, they wrote a television ending for a television show. Again, it’s acceptable within the show’s established boundaries. And after they dug up the characters’ feelings again but not the details of the act, I’m convinced the Lazarus explanation did indeed survive the fall (and the hiatuses).

Sherlock has been depressed and dabbling in drugs since TEH, and his increasingly elaborate mind palace sequences are the result: My own theory, though not something I’m desperately attached to. Now that I’ve definitely seen Sherlock deducing on drugs, it’s clear the writers were just having fun with their own trope, previously.

Continuity errors, set choices, and plot holes indicate T6T and TLD are not real: My immediate instinct with T6T was reliable narrator, at least to the extent that Sherlock is capable of it. Without adopting preconceptions based on other theories, that remains the most fitting explanation. The twists in this episode were not as deep as usual, perhaps because the show had an extra agenda of “consequences” to communicate. The housekeeping episodes are always a bit of a mess, anyway. As for TLD, we now have textual examples of how the creators handle drug-induced hallucination and memory distortion. We have the first serious misfortune contemplated by the show as well as massive character development in the span of these two episodes. Audiences would not accept their reversal, and the writers knew and intended this when writing. cf bullets below for opinions on the potential “mistakes”.

EMP or any other (TD12 etc.) massive retcon/rehash stretching into previous seasons: They wrote “it was all a dream” once, and even then, Sue and Benedict were hesitant to sign on, critics were unimpressed, and some casual fans were alienated. Even with 26 pages of dialogue between Mycroft and Sherlock in TFP, with flashbacks throughout, it wouldn’t be possible to go back and re-interpret major events from multiple seasons. The questions raised in T6T and TLD alone will be difficult to address in just one episode (because there’s still whatever new plot they devised, as well). In the end, there’s also the simplest question: why would you want this now? We have enough character development, enough beautiful moments, and enough mind-fuckery to be going on with.

Adlock as a central focus: This isn’t a popular theory, but it may be a common if unacknowledged fear. The way Irene’s re-introduction in TLD was handled - as leverage for a scene about John and Sherlock’s friendship - makes me confident that anything further to do with her would be sideplot, comic relief, or tension release at best. But (branching into pure speculation here) based on what the writers have said in the past, I think it most likely she’ll remain a mysterious yet absent symbol of the ambiguity that defines part of Sherlock’s appeal.

Mega flashbacks of Johnlock scenes: Honestly I’ve never really been on board with this. The fact that the creators have had to remount expensive scenes like the fall and the tarmac for subsequent seasons proves that they just don’t plan this far ahead when writing and shooting. In any case, logistically, there is simply not time to fit it in now.

Finally, the one that hurts the most. Johnlock as television history / groundbreaking representation: If they’re not doing Johnlock, they’re doing it wrong. But unfortunately, if they’re doing Johnlock, they’re also doing it wrong. All the metas about romantic character arcs, slow burn, and audience manipulation to combat heteronormativity were absolutely right. Series 4 was the time to draw this story together, or at least to build it to its climax. At this point, a S4 Johnlock resolution would have to be addressed so quickly (because there’s so much else to address already in TFP), it would blindside casual fans, not convince them that it’s what they were seeing all along. It would come across as one more rug pull, and would be derided with all the vitriol that this fandom has been intercepting in the meantime. We didn’t join this game only to be met with a moving or shrinking target. Could they still do it in series 5? Maybe. They introduced enough estrangement and other darkness that delaying relationship progression now makes actual emotional sense. But the show is at its peak influence right now, they’ve never been assured of a 5th series, and the writers have admitted that their plans for series 5 amount to little more than notes. Canon Johnlock is possible, but I think they’ve missed their chance to make history with it.

How I got here

None of you know me personally, and I almost never post this type of thing. So if anyone’s reading it, some background is called for. Let’s start with the impersonal bit, which you might have a chance of relating to.

As a television audience, we have to draw a line: where do we suspend disbelief? Some shows make this decision easy, but Sherlock makes it nearly impossible. We either draw the line generously, redraw it constantly, or commit to endless (fun?) mental anguish. In defense of generosity, and to avoid the disappointment and evasion of declaring it all “bad writing”, it’s important to keep these facts in mind:

The show is written by committee, pass-the-pen style, so inconsistencies in characterizations and plot logic are bound to occur, even with the head writers vetting everything.

The writers’ commitment to shocking rug pulls and the attendant necessity of obsessive secret-keeping mean that some writing choices exist in a critical vacuum, unexamined and un-analyzed except by the core creators. Market research is impossible here, and history illustrates the many potential pitfalls of this approach.

The show’s influence is outsize and its quality is tremendous in comparison to its relatively tiny budget and production team. We ARE watching low-budget network television, so expectations need to align.

The fandom vastly outnumbers the production crew, and vastly outspends it in both (re)creative and analytic effort, so we’re bound to catch more details than they do.

Some members of fandom also vastly exceed the creators in cleverness and creativity. I’m constantly astounded by the intelligence, imagination, and critical capacity of the fans, and between you and me, that is saying something. Our creators are clever and imaginative, but they’ve got nothing on some of you.

At the core of that production team is a nepotistic hive mind. It’s not nice, but it’s true. There is definitely a virtuous circle, a positive feedback loop, going on. Part of this is borne of the secret-keeping, part of the low budget, and part of the usual human tendencies to value our own, to seek comfort, and to submit to confirmation bias.

The writers and actors have admitted to not fully developing backstories before jumping into the scripts [BC] [AA]. I actually thought Benedict must have been lying in that NPR interview (or trying to wind Steven up) when I first read it, but later interviews have confirmed it. Our best fanfic writers take backstory more seriously than this, so we should expect OOC moments.

The writers don’t often use consultants, even where they obviously should and easily could. Plenty of unnecessary mistakes happen when you don’t ask for help.

Various breaks in the show’s own internal logic suggest that the writers also didn’t bother to map this out fully before they began. They firmly believe that Sherlock “exists in a slightly exaggerated version of our own universe“, so they make assumptions accordingly. Except, obviously there are huge differences between the Sherlock universe and the real world. They simply go unacknowledged, with little or no explanation offered to help fans make sense of them. We’re meant to let them pass unhindered over our suspension lines. Rowling’s or Tolkien’s meticulously-planned fantasy world this is not.

Our creators are nonetheless at the top of their crafts, producing an entertainment product that never fails to be unique, surprising, visually stunning, mentally engaging, and emotionally wrenching. The original reason we (most of us) are here is still this amazing show.

And now for the personal part. First, it’s my policy to let entertainment enhance my life, but never to ruin it. If that sounds flippant, know that it’s something of a self-preservation tactic: part of managing a tendency to depression. It’s also my policy to believe nothing without proof. I’m heavily influenced by scientific skepticism, and prefer “reliable and valid [conclusions] to ones that are comforting or convenient”. That makes me an extreme outlier among humans, let along among conspirators, which is why I say that my non-belief in TJLC has little bearing on anything. Theory-wise, I don’t have a lot of chips on the table - most of mine are partly crack or lightly researched. I do have personal investment in queer representation in media. I even have a little bit of money on the table for this show. But not all my eggs are in this basket: I’ve always believed that it’s a larger battle than this one show can wage (again, self-preservation).

As for enhancing my life, I had a blast watching TLD. But I was strung out, panicked, and somewhat disengaged watching T6T. The quality of writing and nature of the episodes can partly account for it, but when I examine my own mind, I know that a huge part of that was expectations. I came to TLD after a week of overwhelming work obligations. I’d had to abstain from the fandom, had missed nearly all the theories and analysis, and brought mainly my own impressions of T6T with me. By contrast, I came to T6T fully steeped in fandom culture and theory (mostly TJLC), having spent a shocking fraction of my December devouring meta, analyzing promo material, making a fanvid, rewatching multiple times, and even leaking a bit of content. My first impression was “difficult to engage with”, and I was constantly distracted with thoughts of the fandom - this despite the fact that I usually have no problem forgetting outside life while I’m consuming entertainment. It was depressing, and literally for my own sake, I can’t afford to get depressed.

The simple explanation is that my expectations were too high and too specific. In a brief career in corporate America that included marketing work, I learned that the key to avoiding failure in almost any human interaction is managing expectations. Cynical, but true. It’s a valuable life lesson, though, and one that I guess I am lucky to have learned so early. I am now something of a career traveler, and the same truth holds: when I travel to a new place for the first time with sketchy plans and low expectations, I never fail to be amazed. High expectations frequently result in disappointment. I do know to apply this truth to entertainment consumption, as well, but I was a little swept away in the fervor pre-T6T. I’m trying not to make that mistake again.

The name of my blog is meant to represent how I engage with this show, and indeed with everything. Challenging my own perspective frequently and rigorously is important to my worldview and self-worth. Quotes to live by include “the un-examined life is not worth living”, “an echo chamber is a reassuring womb but no place to live”, and “the surest way to corrupt a youth is to teach him to hold in higher regard those who think alike than those who think differently” (paraphrased, you can Google ‘em). I pursue multiple interpretations (roads) simultaneously, compartmentalizing to avoid cognitive dissonance. The demons beneath are the perils of committing to any one path without justification: dangerous to theorize without data and all that.

Over the years, so few fan theories have been borne out by the show. That’s not any kind of shade on fandom. If anything, it proves how wondrous and limitless is human imagination. I’ve enjoyed reading theories so much, I wonder if there is anything to do with Sherlock, or indeed anything nerdy under the sun, that wouldn’t entertain me. (Yes, I used to read the dictionary as a child.) But Moftiss have shown time and again that their idea of a great television story is simpler, more traditional, and more worthy of an old white man than what the fandom tends to imagine. So I’m taking them at their word for most of the previous episodes, and resetting my expectations in hopes of at least being entertained, if not validated and delighted, by tomorrow’s episode.

(Actual conclusion is outside the cut, above.)

#sherlock #fandom #s4 #speculation #clueing for looks #tfp #bbc sherlock #omg

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doyouever-daydream · 7 years

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*WARNING* Sherlock Spoilers (and just me, rambling).

First things first… I’ll be reblogging a lot of Sherlock spoilers, so a little heads up. Also these are ~my opinions~ and you’re free to agree or disagree, just please don’t disrespect. IT WAS TOO MUCH FOR ME, MY BRAIN, MY HEART. WAY. TOO. MUCH.

I’m starting this post while I watch for the second time the episode. I’m just getting to the part in the aquarium so I’ll start crying my eyes out soon… My comments won’t follow the episode’s timeline, my brain it’s just too messed up for that. That little old lady gave me a strange feeling… Oh, was I right about that… Although I’ve never liked Lady Smallwood and kinda wished she was the bad one but oh, well… I just finished watching it again and I can’t, I seriously feel so confused, empty, sad, nostalgic. I feel as if I’ve finished the whole series not an episode it’s just so weird 💔 Back to the old lady Vivian, I genuinely thought she was going to kill herself, I seriously thought “she’s going to pull a ‘Moriarty’ and shoot herself” but no, she pulled the trigger and the rest just broke my heart, when they showed the bullet in slow motion I thought it was someone’s dream or hallucination, for that matter, but never I expected to see Mary dying, at least I wished they would’ve waited until the second episode because she didn’t have enough time with Rosie… Btw it disappointed me to see how short were the scenes related to the baby ALSO I’m not looking forward to how happy this will make to all those who hated Mary and the baby, also that scene after the credits… What. The. Fuck. Mofftiss are just feeding the hate towards Mary… Although there’s just little hope in me that this will be like a code or something, maybe hell is related to Moriarty? I don’t think she’ll come back but I do think she’ll still have a huge impact on the series and will help Sherlock to solve crimes (ok, I’m lying, I do have little hope, that they would bring her back but the rational part of my brain says ‘They won’t stfu’) Anyway, back to my ramble, Amanda Abbington is BEAUTIFUL. So is pretty much everyone in this show but I’ve always loved her eyes, nose and smile… And her hair is *was* gorgeous this series :( Talking about the hair… Jawn Watson got me feeling a little funny, I had a school girl’s crush on him ~and his hair~ even I would’ve given him my phone number ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° now that I’ve got to this point… What. The. Hell. That’s all very unlike the character they’ve shown us so I find it odd BUT I do get, that as humans we tend to have moments of weakness (Note: that bus lady is a little off, I don’t have a good feeling about this, no matter the outcome) Talking about doctor Watson… The fuck is wrong with you!? I do understand he’s grieving and a way of reacting is anger but why towards Sherlock? It’s not his fault, so I hope they can get through this and be happy (I really hope people don’t murder me for this but I do enjoy watching Jlock moments although I don’t ship them, I ship Sherlock with someone else *cough* but from my point of view both ships have moments that gives us, the shippers, so much joy, -and we should focus on that and not on hating other people’s ships, live and let live as Mrs. H once said, anywayyyyy) The first scene made me so happy, it’s more easy for me to say which character I love a little less than to choose just one or two favorites, so I love Mycroft, and I love it when the Holmes brothers get together the whole ‘I’m not good with humans’ scene was also a favorite, I called it, since the moment he said 'I’m not good with them’ I knew he meant humans, oh, Mycroft, some days I am you haha Lestrade is like a fine wine, he gets better with age, my heart bursts out whenever he appears I also loved how excited he got when Sherlock said his name. Mrs. Hudson is still beautiful and she made me feel less sad in that scene where she’s with Sherlock after Mary’s death…. BTW, I think it’s beautiful baby Rosie has three godparents, Sherlock, Mrs. H and my precious little Molly. I didn’t have enough Molly, I need more of her, Molly and Loo, I love them both. Talking about Molly, two things I need to write before I forget, for the very first time I was a little upset because of her (Well, Mofftiss everything I’m feeling right now is because of them, especially Mark) Why? Because she said what John said… I mean, Sherlock’s already feeling like shit, there’s no need to tell him that, smh. But I feel like they had her saying this because this time she is or feels like she needs to be on John’s side… Not sure how to explain this but once she had to lie to John about Sherlock’s death, now as a way of support she follows John’s instructions but on another note, when setlock happened I remember being so excited about this picture of Molly holding the baby and Sherlock there, also whenever Loo said they shared a beautiful moment I thought this could be it, but no, this scene ruined the picture for a few minutes (maybe more but I’ll just read some Sherlolly fics inspired by that picture to feel better). Oh, another thing for one moment I imagined Molly keeping the baby and being a single mother to Rosie (crazy, random thought inspired by the movie 'life as we know it’ probably) Sherlock. Finally got to this character that has grown up (well, sort of haha) so much since the beginning, I loved how he cared so much for the Watsons, I enjoyed how he and Mary were like new BFF’s but nothing lasts forever *cries again* I also loved the fact that he showed Mycroft, Rosie, and obviously the scenes with her just make me so happy, his sentimental side is more explored and I can’t wait to see how they show that on the next couple episodes (that will have me crying and suffering as usual), I hope he doesn’t feel like Mary’s death was his fault, there’s no one to blame.*** Final thoughts It was too much, I’ll say it again, I feel like they tried to put one series in just one episode, had my head spinning just a little but I love this show, always have and always will (probably). Sherrinford. I’ll just leave it there. I feel like 80% of the things I saw during setlock were for this episode… Hmmm right after I wrote that I remembered a bunch of photos from setlock and well… Nope, there’s some things that weren’t on this first episode, I guess my brain is still too messed up to function properly. Right after I finished the episode I wished I could turn back time and still be waiting for the series and live off fanfics because the ~reality~ was too much for me but I’ll get through this and I can’t wait to have my heart broken next week. I’m so thankful for Tumblr, since none of my friends watch Sherlock, here’s the only place I can write about it. ***When there’s no one to blame I mean the characters, although I wished she wasn’t dead, I think her death was kinda lame? I’ll compare it to another TV show I love: Criminal Minds… WARNING CM Spoilers. It was like when they killed Maeve, in both cases they could’ve done something before the killers pulled the trigger, in both shows they’ve done it before, p.e. they’d shoot the person holding the gun before they’d do anything so I do think it’s a little disappointing to see Mary killed this way, just as I thought when I watched that Criminal Minds episode. But when it comes to Mofftiss, writers I admire, it’s even more shocking to me that they decided to have some random lady shoot and ending Mary’s life (although it was aimed to Sherlock, I know, I know) but oh, well, I’m still a sucker for this show. Fun fact I need and want to share, I wrote a fanfic pairing Sherlock with an OC, I re wrote the episodes and made her a part of them plus original scenes, the point is I thought the end of my fic should be after series 3 since there was no way my OC would fit in series 4 but turns out I could so joke’s on me, my imagination will run wild hahaha My rambling ends NOW. Finally.

#sherlock #spoilers #series 4 spoilers #sherlock spoilers #ive spent like two hours writing #john watson #mary watson #molly hooper #greg lestrade #mrs. hudson #mycroft holmes

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