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#the latter is demanding and rude and can just cause more a strain on a fic writer than not updating at all
katierosefun · 3 years
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not to be that person or whatever, but like,,,if you want to know how comments are actually crucial to fic writers, i just re-opened and started a new chapter on a fic just because one (1) person commented on every single chapter. 
i’m not saying that this is a guaranteed way to get your local fic writer to start writing--even commenting on every single person’s fic/chapters might not get a sad fic writer to the keyboard again, but i think fic writers do get more motivated (or at least touched) when they find someone who expresses continued interest in a work instead of just twiddling their thumbs. the comments don’t have to be deep or thought-provoking--even a few simple keysmashes will do! but any comment at all is a gentle nudge to the writer that their story hasn’t been completely forgotten, and that can be super encouraging for fic writers!
#caroline talks#i mean i'm someone who doesn't ever do hard abandon on fics#sometimes i go on an unplanned hiatus#i still keep the doc and i still refer to the outline#but like. sometimes it's hard to continue fics when you feel like no one's actually reading#or when you feel like it's been so long since you've updated#that NO ONE would actually read the new chapter that you spent anywhere from an hour to two months writing#so the cycle just feeds itself#i should also clarify that there's a difference between supporting your local fic writer with comments and 'i hope things are okay!'#kinds of messages vs. 'why haven't you updated yet' messages#the former is supportive and kind and genuinely motivating#the latter is demanding and rude and can just cause more a strain on a fic writer than not updating at all#so!!!! that is all!!!!!!#of course as always i think i'm lucky where the large majority of readers i've interacted with#have always been super supportive and kind#but also sometimes when you look at a subscriber count and then look at the comments count you just think to yourself#'there's something not clicking here'#and then you just kinda go :////#because idk let's say a story has 100 subscribers#but averages on maybe 4? maybe 5? sometimes 7 comments if you're lucky per chapter#that grates on the fic writer after a little while#i don't want to sound whiney or plaintive#believe me! i know how lucky i am! i feel grateful every day!#BUT i think people still severely underestimate the power of commenting or just. verbally expressing support.#that's all!#okay caroline get off your soap box now--
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webcricket · 5 years
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Looking Glass
Chapter 25 - Corollaries
Pairing: CastielXAU!Reader
Word Count: 1683
Summary: Tragedy derails halcyon days in the bunker and forces everyone involved to reevaluate their notions of safety. Warning for minor (canon in ep 13X23) character death. I’ve decided to stop pretending I know how many chapters this beast will end up being - this isn’t the final chapter as I originally intended (mostly because I want to keep them at the original 2K word limit and there is too much story left to cover and clearly I have no concept of what will make it beyond the final edit).
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Raining cats and dogs. Under the weather. Flying by the seat of one’s pants. Speak of the devil.
Castiel never fully appreciated the expressionistic origin of idioms peppering human speech until he glimpsed the vibrant magenta of your jacket fitted to a lifeless female form lying on the leaf-littered trail ahead and he experienced the resultant  precipitous leaping of his heart into the upper echelons of his throat.
Swallowing hard against the ‘What if it were you? What if I failed to protect her?’ rise of anxiety to relocate the obstinate organ back into his vessel’s ribcage where it belongs, he closes his eyes in concentrated effort; in the lidded distancing from the light of day, he reminds himself the shattered shell, limbs limp and radiating residual heat, crumpled in the mist of cooling rain belonged to some other unfortunate soul, not you.
He left you safe in the bunker’s kitchen, breathing, physically intact, and very much alive, as you helped prep a mass lunch for the multitudes mere minutes ago. The knowledge, the fresh imprint in his mind’s eye of the slight questioning smile hovering on your mouth soundlessly saying you expected to hear the story later as an agitated and secretive Sam dragged him away from the task of scrubbing dishes to help handle a situation – this situation – however comforting in recollection, barely makes a diminishing dent in his reflexive fright at the sight of your jacket and the scent of you still lingering in the damp cloth mingling with the unmistakable odor of raw death.
The hitch and pause in his gait, the sharp gasp and blanching of pink lips as they press tautly together – the outer projections of disquiet as he battles to suppress his rebellious nerves and rapidly beating heart – presents the split-second opportunity for Jack to sprint past the distracted seraph.
“Maggie!” the boy shouts. Surging ahead, he circumvents Mary and Bobby on the well-worn path where they stand sentinel, gravely watching over the dead girl. Ruddy cheeks paling, his sneaker slips in the mossy earth, smearing through bloodied mud as he stumbles around the boulder where she drew a final breath and collapsed.
Sam’s lengthy stride and rational senses move him to the site in time to prohibit Jack from disturbing the scene further; grappling with the Nephilim’s shoulder to hold him back from kneeling to take the girl up in his arms, he manages to keep the boy from eroding what little detail remains that might clue them in to what happened.
“I-I said I’d protect her, and,” Jack’s guilty lament suspends fog-like in the air as he speaks, fingers uselessly flexing and balling into fists, “Sam…”
Cas forces his feet to convey him closer to the carnage. Blinking between Jack’s anguished aspect and the waterlogged coat, he tears his focus from the more personally emotionally unsettling elements to study the statically fixed girlish features of Maggie’s corpse; the peaceful ghostly skin-shade of pre-rigor smoothing the minute muscles of her face is perverted by brightly painted crimson where the bone cracks cleanly at her temple; rivulets of blood and rain mat her hair, the latter diluting the congealed edges of the fatal wound.
“Stop, Jack. This isn’t your fault,” Sam consoles in the rain-pattered hush, stating what they all – save the grief-stricken Jack – are thinking.
A pang of empathy at Jack feeling personally responsible for whatever befell her resonates in Castiel’s heart; the angel knows from long practice it’s often easier to assume self-blame and contend with the tangibility of failure in place of the seemingly unsurmountable impossibility of accepting that senseless tragedies do happen no matter how many vows one makes to prevent their occurrence. For all the fight for a righteous cause, free will and destiny coalesce into unpredictable outcomes. It’s a hard lesson to learn – one with which the angel constantly grapples and one made bearable by the bonds of friendship and love.
“What happened to her?” Dean huskily murmurs the question as if uttering it aloud will provide an instantaneous answer.
At the thought, Cas casts his blues skyward at the roiling grey abyss of clouds above; tiny droplets of rain smatter and collect on his unshaven cheeks, blending with the brimming brine of unshed tears to pool in the divot of his chin when his gaze again drops to settle on the distraught boy. If he could, he’d take this pain from Jack; he knows, in their way, Sam and Dean feel the same; since that feat is not within the realm of possibilities, perhaps Dean’s on to something and they can relieve the burden some by figuring out what really happened here.
“I don’t know. Doesn’t look supernatural,” Mary supplies to flesh out the unknowable.
Cas silently concurs with the assessment; someone, not something killed Maggie. Given the ambient air temperature, the wicking capabilities of water to rapidly cool core body heat, the angel determines the girl can’t have been left here more than a handful of hours ago.
Always ready with a surly remark in any incarnation, Bobby pipes in, “Looks like some son of a bitch beat on her until…”
“Who would do something like this?” Interrupting, regard drawn once more to the magenta fabric, remembering your walks together on this very same stretch of trail, the solitary outings you’ve taken since trusting in your safety, Castiel masks the fear in his tone with anger.
A lesser being might call it a tragic case of mistaken identity; for Lucifer, it was a fairly typical Thursday evening with a dash of prodigious fate thrown in for fun. The single regret clouding his glee and veiling the red glow of his pupils as the girl’s skull broke with a satisfying pop and an even more gratifying gurgle against the unforgiving mass of the boulder on the third strike was that – although she initially tricked his senses into thinking she was you wandering in the wilderness on account of outerwear absolutely reeking of his brother – she was not actually you.
Unfortunate for fulfilling his nefarious need to revenge an innocuous smack upside the head back on the bus, certainly; although he wouldn’t characterize it as a mistake. He knew before he throttled the scream in her throat and flicked her – sputtering for air like a boneless fish – onto the ground he had the wrong refugee. Too bad for her, on he devil’s non-existent moral compass, wrong exists as just as compelling a direction as right.
Finishing up the last of the dishes in the sink, you lay a gleaming plate carefully on the pile with a clink to dry and swipe the wetness coating your hands across the towel tucked into the waistband of your jeans. At the familiar bass angelic utterance of your name, you turn toward the doorway.
“Cas!” The smile skirting your mouth falters into a frown at the serious etch of lines hardening his countenance. Yanking the towel free and tossing it aside, you navigate the counter between you with an arm extended to meet him halfway. “What happened?” Your fingers delve beneath the hem of his coats, flattening to the rigid plane of his torso.
“We need to talk.” He peers beyond your fretfully widening eyes at the two other apocalypse expats currently inhabiting the space to aid in lunch clean up. One of them averts her inquisitive gaze back to the tabletop she’s polishing. “Leave us,” he growls; the order emerges significantly less kind than he is capable of being. “You too.” He gestures at the young man organizing a shelf.
“Cas,” you hiss chidingly under your breath, prodding his side. You’ve made great strides these past weeks in terms of angelic PR and here he is throwing everything out the window with rudeness.
He rolls his eyes almost imperceptibly. Almost. There isn’t time for niceties given the circumstances, although he knows you’re right. “I need to speak to Y/N alone. Leave us, please,” he amends and softens the request, punctuating his words with a strained smile for their benefit. It’s disingenuous, yet you appreciate the effort.
You mouth a polite thank you to your nodding cohorts for their understanding as they abandon their chores to slink out into the hall.
Upon their exit, Castiel engulfs you in a hug.
“Hey, I’ve got you,” you whisper, acquiescing to his tender demand for contact; rubbing circles into his back, sliding a palm to comb the chestnut curls at his nape, you wait for an explanation for his strange behavior.
Standing there, he lets the heat of you sink into his shrouded skin; he listens to the steady thrum of your heart and shallow respiration of life moving in and out of your lungs until nothing but the grounding succor of your body and soul quiet his senses. Exhaling a sigh into the crook of your neck, he shudders against you and pulls away to look into your eyes. Grey glints of somberness gild his irises. “Maggie’s dead.”
“Wh-what?”
“Mary and Bobby found her body in the woods, on the trail leading to town. That’s what Sam-”
“An accident?”
Regard falling to the sliver of space between you, he shakes his head.
You suck in a juddering breath. Choking on a wave of guilt, you remember your conversation when she took over your living quarters. “I-I told her it was safe here. I promised her-”
“This isn’t your fault. This isn’t anyone’s fault.” Repeating Sam’s earlier assertion to Jack – the words sounding no more reassuring to his ears than before – Cas folds you to his chest, tangles his fingers in your hair, and angles to kiss the top of your head. “We need your help. You’ve gotten to know these people better than any of us – is there anyone she was close to? Anyone who would know why she was out alone?”
“Yeah-” You nod in the solid casing of his embrace, sniffling back tears– “Allene. They’re friends.”
“Good, that’s good.” He balances a prickly cheek on your crown; feeling the warmth of your tears saturate his shirt, he resettles his arms to envelope you tighter.
Next: Ch. 26 - The World Ender (Final)
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idolizerp · 6 years
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[ LOADING INFORMATION ON POIZN’S LEAD RAP, LEAD DANCE SIWON…. ]
DETAILS
CURRENT AGE: 31 DEBUT AGE: 24 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 22 SKILL POINTS: 07 VOCAL | 10 DANCE | 10 RAP | 13 PERFORMANCE SECONDARY SKILLS: Music production (hip-hop and r&b)
INTERVIEW
The eldest of a five member group would usually be the one who was the most responsible and made sure to keep the others in check. Cleaning up, making sure the others were well taken care of and weren’t overworking themselves. The older brother, or dad, of the group so to speak. That was how 99 Entertainment tried to market Siwon in the beginning. The hyung that all the guys wanted to be like and the oppa that all the girls were infatuated with. It worked for a while, for the most part. The public ate it up. That is until Siwon was involved in his first scandal in the latter half 2012 after the release of Jackpot, relatively early in their career. It was an attitude related scandal, something that the public hadn’t been expecting from the eldest member. It was said that he was on the set of a photoshoot speaking informally to his seniors, being rude towards the staff, and having an overall bad attitude throughout the entire day. When the scandal broke and there were people jumping on the hate bandwagon, 99 took action and forced him to issue a public apology. The apology was lackluster and didn’t hold any real remorse, which caused him to gain even more hate from the public. Even with the year long hiatus, that took place afterwards, the public didn’t seem to warm up to him all that much. Instead of seeing him as the older brother type, they saw him as the black sheep, the one who caused issues for those around him. They don’t like his personality, but they love his talents. Despite his first scandal and the ones that followed subsequently, his rapping and dancing skills are undeniable. Almost to the point that the public are willing to overlook his bad habits. Almost. 
BIOGRAPHY
Cold. That’s a word that could accurately describe Oh Siwon’s childhood. His father was a soldier in the military. A hard working man who dedicated his life to the service. His line of work was the most important thing in his life. At some points in time, Siwon even felt as though his father cared more about his work than he did about him, which was a pretty easy conclusion to come to when you saw how Siwon was treated. Because his mother passed away during childbirth with him, Siwon was left in the care of his grandparents while his father was in the service. He rarely saw his father for the first eight years of his life. It wasn’t until his father was injured in the line of duty that he began to see him consistently again. What Siwon thought would be the opportunity for him to finally connect with his father on a deeper level only proved to be the exact opposite. His father was too harsh, too strict. Not to the point of abuse, but to the point where the boy hated being around him. He couldn’t make too swift of a move without being scolded for it, and the scoldings had become so frequent that he had began to ignore them. His grandparents tried to interfere and help him. They tried talking to his father to get him to relax and ease up on him, but that only angered the ex soldier. He didn’t think he needed anyone telling him how to raise his child, so he packed up their things and moved them from Busan to Seoul when Siwon was thirteen years old. Seoul is where he was introduced to the underground rap community. He was young at the time, very young actually, but that particular genre of music struck a chord him especially. He discovered his talent and penchant for rap and hip-hop music shortly thereafter, and began spending more and more time with the people who had introduced him to it. There was something about the music that, as cliché as it sounds, spoke to him, and that was when he delved deeper into the culture. His father who was watching closely over him, just as strict as ever, saw his growing interest in rap music and tried to nip it in the bud early on, but to no avail. Many an argument happened within the Oh household over the subject of music, and they continued to happen throughout the years until Siwon became of age. His father immediately demanded that he enlist, like he had when he was his age. Siwon wanted to refuse to do so. He was beginning to really crack into the underground community and make a name for himself amongst the other rappers. Enlisting meant jeopardizing everything he had worked for, and he didn’t to do that. Unfortunately in life many instances came up where things that didn’t want to be done, had to be done. Military enlistment was one of those things. He didn’t have any other choice but to go. As soon as his required service time was up, he didn’t hesitate to leave, much to his the chagrin of his father. Since then, the relationship between the two of them had become even more strained. His father wanted him to stay in the service like he had, but that wasn’t the kind of life that Siwon wanted for himself. After being discharged from his military service, Siwon had to find a job in order to support himself, because his father wasn’t going to do so anymore. He was an adult, so he had to handle responsibilities like anyone else his age. He struggled with finding a job for a few months, before he finally caved and went to his grandparents in Busan for help. His grandfather, who owned a dance studio, was getting older and he couldn’t dance like he used to, so he offered Siwon a job at the dance studio helping him teach classes. Siwon had never been that big on dancing, although when he was younger and still living with them, his grandparents used to make him join in on their dance classes. He enjoyed it, but it wasn’t something that really struck him as something he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Working at his grandfather’s studio was just something he would do while he continued trying to pursue his rap career, and as soon as that took off, he would quit. The underground community, unsurprisingly, gave him a hard way to go when he made a comeback, although he had spent a lot of his downtime while going through physical therapy brushing up on his skills, so it didn’t take very long for him to earn their respect back. In 2009, he was approached by a man he had never met before, a man who had been watching him pretty closely over for several months. He wanted him to audition to be an idol trainee and eventually debut in a boy group they were putting together. He turned him down the first time. Not only was he not interested in being stuck in a group with other guys, but he didn’t want to get into the kpop industry. He had heard that it was filled with nothing but cookie cutter types, that they stripped you of your individuality and left you as nothing but an empty shell of a person. It wasn’t until one of his rap buddies had surprisingly encouraged him to do it. ‘Opportunities like this don’t come about everyday. You can spend your life underground, or get a taste of what it’s like to be above.’ That was enough encouragement for him to reach out to 99 and accept their offer. He came into the trainee life as a full grown man surrounded by what seemed to be little kids with their heads in the clouds. It made him sick. Not the kids themselves (although they were apart of it), but the fact that they were so blind and naive to the fact that they were going to be screwed over so many times in the industry before making it - if they even made it, that is. The majority of his time as a trainee was spent trying to brush up his unpolished singing, perfect his natural dancing ability and teach him how to properly behave as an idol. The latter would prove to be the hardest thing to do. Siwon had never been one to try to conform to what other people wanted from him. It was during his second year as a trainee that he was approached by 99 and was told that he would be joining a rap survival show with another rap centered trainee. The opportunity to showcase his skills on a national platform and get money for wiping the floor with the other rappers? How could he possibly turn down an opportunity like that? Unsurprisingly he swept his way through the rounds, his polished rapping skills over the years having helped prepare him for the show. He had picked up the reputation of being one of the meaner, harsher rappers. He had no qualms about hitting below the belt, using facts about the other members’ lives that he knew would cut deep. That was why (in his painfully biased opinion), he didn’t win the entire competition. He was too fierce, too tough. People couldn’t handle him, and that was just fine. At least he knew deep down that he was the best at what he did. One thing that pissed him off in regards of the survival show was that people assumed that 99 Entertainment had bought their moderate success on the show, which was insulting. It was insulting because it was a slap in the face to his skills. Just because he was training to be an idol that meant that he couldn’t possibly have any real rapping skills, right? He was confident in his rap ability, but there was a small part of him that was worried that the allegations were true. Whenever he asked 99 Entertainment about it, they denied playing a hand in their success, but he couldn’t be too sure. He wanted to believe that it was all due to their hard work, and he did for the most part, but it was hard to keep that mentality when rumors like that were being thrown around. Even if he wanted to speak out against those allegations, which he did, he couldn’t. The executives at 99 wouldn’t allow him to. Besides that, he was gearing up to finally make his debut. The first two years of Poizn’s career, he was able to hold it together and play the perfect idol, but he soon grew tired of being someone he wasn’t. After his first attitude scandal came another, then another. Soon it would be no surprise to see him making headlines on netizen articles because of his attitude or “diva like” personality on the set of photoshoots, M/V shoots and even variety shows. It had gotten to the point where 99 had outright stopped sending him to variety shows. He hasn’t made a variety show appearance since 2015. The scandals didn’t stop there though. From attitude scandals to dating scandals, Siwon had become Poizn’s number one punching bag when it came to hurling hateful and negative articles at. The only thing the public praised Siwon for was his rapping and charisma, two of the only things that really mattered to him. He couldn’t care less if they enjoyed his personality. Because even if they didn’t enjoy his personality, they still enjoyed his art. So who was really winning? Him.
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