#I weep. I’ll probably post it later :T

[candycryptids]

Bright and early is the only time to start any real adventures

[tinyhistory]

Hey! Love your stories so much I just had to ask! Do you have any favorite drarry authors/stories? I sometimes compare the quality of other stories to ROA (oops!) because ROA is just that good. My personal favorites are ROA (of course!), the Foundations Series (saras_girl), the ordeal of being known (louisfake), denouement (the_never_was), Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (AWickedMemory), and To Hurt and Heal (cassisluna). Have you read these? Have a wonderful day! :)

Thank you, so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories! And thank you for so patiently waiting for a reply. I haven’t been online much in the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately I haven’t read any of your recs, but I’m always happy to add another fic to my to-read list.

I did a rec post a few months ago, but I’ll post an updated version now. The Skyhawke Archives appear to be down, which is crushing news. I’ve had to update a lot of the links.

So here are my favourite Drarry fanfics:

And We Are At Our Apogee (PG-13) by angelgazing

Summary: Draco wanted revenge, but it didn't work out that way.

My notes: Californian beaches, supermarkets, road trips, and a bittersweet ending.

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A Reckless State of Mind (T) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Draco is a Psyche-Diver, and his newest patient is Auror Potter, who’s been a pathological liar for over a year—and has just tried to violently end his own life.

Notes: The plot alone guarantees inclusion on this list. Probably the most creative fic I’ve ever read, and the twists and turns will keep you guessing.

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Berlin, In the Year of Our Lord (PG) by Are

Summary: Harry is a green-tea addict. Draco stalks him.

Notes: Probably my all-time favourite fic, along with Blue Vase. It’s sparse and minimal and I love that writing style.

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Blue Vase (M) by ivyblossom

Summary: Let’s pretend.

Notes: Draco finds an amnesiac Harry and befriends him, pretending they were once lovers. It’s pensive, short, and bittersweet.

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The Boy Who Only Lived Twice (E) by lettered

Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Notes: Action-heavy fics are damn hard to write, but lettered nails it. The action scenes are breakneck speed, the conversations are threaded with double meaning, and even the silences are tense.

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Draco in Darkness (T) by Plumeria47.

Summary: Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight.

Notes: This is one of the first fics I ever read (when it was over on FF in 2003) so it’s probably here just for nostalgia points alone. I read it when I was a kid and just thought it was a lovely golden fairytale, the best romance I’d ever read in my (very short, thus far) life. I love reading it again, even years later as an adult when I can see the tarnish on it; the things my childhood eyes didn’t notice. I don’t care. It’s my soft and fuzzy comfort fic.

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The Flesh is Frail (NC-17) by wildestranger

Summary: None

Notes: Draco has injuries from curses and spells, and Harry keeps him company. Draco is angry; Harry is stubborn. They argue their way into a grudging relationship. It’s a short read and well worth your ten minutes.

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Good-bye to Yesterday (NC-17) by furiosity

Summary: Draco felt ready to face even a million years in Azkaban as long as it meant that at the end of it all, he would make Potter pay.

Notes: It’s not a dark fic, but it certainly dips in and out of the shadows. If you like your romance to be sharp as a razor and bitter as black coffee, give it a read.

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Hymn to Color (PG) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Months after Draco cast a curse that took Harry’s eyesight, Harry is still trying to come to terms with it. Draco still wanted forgiveness, which was probably the problem.

Notes: Probably my very inadequate idea of “fluff”. It’s a quiet, introspective fic. Draco and Harry are well-written.

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Kings among runaways (PG) by enderxenocide.

Summary: Later, the toast will be slightly overcooked, Draco will burn the eggs, and there will be another fist fight in-between the living room and the front door, but they’ll eat breakfast with second-hand plates and Draco’s great-grandmother’s silverware.

Notes: Dreamy descriptions, abstract scenes, and the characters are lovingly delineated. Beautiful writing.

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On Broken Glass (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: After the final battle, Draco is holding the shards that are left of his and Harry’s life.

Notes: Established relationship. Harry’s forgetful and seems to suffer both short-term and long-term memory loss; Draco stays by his side through six years of post-war amnesia. Very short, just a tiny ficlet. There’s sequels (in bite-size pieces) but I prefer to read the first ficlet and leave it there.

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Paper Dolls (M) by cupiscent

Summary: In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.

Notes: Short, succinct, and packs a punch. No character deaths, in case the summary has you feeling nervous.

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Portrait (PG-13) by Silent Blast

Summary: None.

Notes: Dorian Grey, but Drarry. Of course it’s going to be good.

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Shattered (NC-17) by femmequixotic

Summary: One damned accident involving one too-lucky curse, and suddenly you'd think he was five again, with their Harry, be carefuls and their quick Levitating charms ready the instant the potion gives way and his rebelling hands lose hold of whatever's in their grasp.

Notes: Draco’s an artist. Harry’s intrigued by his sculptures and paintings.

-

Snatch (PG-13) by didntyoupotter

Summary: Harry is comatose, Hermione and Ron aren’t much help, and Draco isn’t sure about anything anymore.

Notes: The opening scene fools you into thinking this will be a light read with a streak of good humour. Don’t fall for it. By the third act, you’ll be hanging onto every word and feeling a lot of emotions. Also, back in the day, this was one of the Draco/Harry fics. Everyone knew of it. Pay your respects to your fandom history and read this beloved classic.

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The Stages of Acceptance (T) by Lomonaaeren.

Summary: Harry, already happily married to Ginny, receives the news that he's Draco's mate. Law and custom don't give him the option of ignoring the news. The stages of his reaction, one by one.

Notes: This is not a romance, and I love that the author just casually chucks all the Veela tropes in the bin and says “nope”. In Lomonaaeren’s own words, this fic is more practical than romantic. Harry is unfamiliar with the Veela concepts and hates the very idea of being “shackled” to someone; he rejects Draco at once. Draco is miserable and lonely. They do eventually come to understand each other better, but it’s a huge struggle with lots of setbacks. The general air of pessimism and misery does make the small glimpses of compassion and empathy feel so well-earned. I love a fic that rations out its happiness.

-

The Stately Homes of Wiltshire (E) by waspabi

Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Notes: This one needs no introduction. The writing is polished, the characterisation perfect, and the dialogue is fun. I love the humour woven throughout it.

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Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (E) by faithwood.

Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Notes: Another one that most of us know. It’s a lighthearted and fun read.

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Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (M) by novembersnow

Summary: In the war-torn years after Hogwarts, one man has no knowledge of his yesterdays.

Notes: Another classic back in the feverish heyday of the Harry Potter fandom, when books were still being released and everyone had worked themselves up into a shipping frenzy. And no wonder this fic was an instant hit. Draco has lost all his memories and Harry’s investigating as an Auror, but the longer you read, the more you start questioning everything. Good twists and turns that lead to a tender ending.

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Turn by Saras_Girl

Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Notes: An inevitable inclusion on any favourites list. I think my favourite thing about it is the characterisation. Everyone is so well-rounded; the characters are brought to life and feel like old friends. All their habits, styles, mannerisms, even the way they walk or talk. While I love everyone in this fic, I have to admit that Blaise is just amazing. Of all the thousands of Blaises imagined by fanfic writers, I love this one the best. “Old bean” indeed.

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Under the Ivy (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: It is impressive how much you can learn about someone by simply sharing a few rooms. They don’t spend time together, not really, but Harry still knows that Malfoy prefers raspberry jam over strawberry, that he hums along to the Wireless when he thinks no one is around, and that his leg is bothering him more than usual when the temperatures drop below freezing.

Notes: Another old, old favourite of mine. It’s like snuggling into a soft blanket. Remus owns a cottage and Harry moves in after the war. Later, Remus lets a room to Draco, who is an outcast after the war and has limited housing options. Harry isn’t happy at first with the new lodger, but he eventually warms up to Draco. A slow and gentle romance.

-

Vale Sanare (M) by rurounihime

Summary: Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Notes: London nightclubs, one-night-stands, loud music and lonely nights. Draco has seizures due to a curse from the war, and the seizures have led to a fear of intimacy. Short and sweet.

-

The Way Down (T) by lettered

Summary: Malfoy’s all, “Come out of there,” the way you say to a cat who is badly behaved. And Harry’s all like, “No, what, I’m a hermit! And I have a chest-monster! And I am crazy magically powerful!” and Malfoy’s all, “We all have problems, bub.” (thoughtfully) “You are crazy though. I’ll give you that.”

Notes: I just adore this fic. The fic starts well-grounded, giving you a solid backstory and matter-of-fact context, but as it goes on, it slowly unravels into dreamy scenes, lush settings, and repeated motifs. It’s just such a beautiful story.

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When Love beckons to you, follow him (PG-13) by megyal

Summary: Draco wakes up, lost, somewhere in a forest. He has no idea where he is or how he got there. As he is blundering around trying to find his way home, he hears Harry's voice in his head, telling him what to do.

Notes: I generally like my fics to be bittersweet or with a bit of heartache — but this fic is just a little cloud of softness. If you need something light and lovely without being syrupy-sweet, this is a good choice!

-

The World of the Living (M) by fourth_rose

Summary: A traumatised war hero and a convicted criminal under the roof of an eccentric journalist make for a rather odd ensemble, but Luna has never had a problem with oddities as long as they make sense.

Notes: The story is told from Luna’s perspective, which gives everything a lovely dreamy quality. She takes in a couple of strays after the war — first Harry, who is avoiding his other friends and has quit his Auror job — and then she offers a room to Draco right after his trial. Draco is rude, angry, and ungrateful; Harry is churlish, withdrawn, and moody. Luna doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and over the course of the next few months, her house guests slowly warm up to each other.

-

Voices From the Fog (E) by noeon

Summary: After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Notes: Harry drifts across Europe, trying to forget the war. He ends up in a woodworking shop in Amsterdam, alongside a moody Draco. Atmospheric settings and solid characterisation.

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 9

This is a series. Start here. Continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Content warning: post-rescue, referenced starvation, scars, referenced attempted murder, noncon body mod, referenced nonsexual noncon nudity, PTSD, referenced noncon (that didn’t happen), self-blame, flashbacks, hallucinations, unsure of reality

For those of you who pointed out I forgot about Zelda in the last chapter with Vera... thank you!!

~

There was a sense of warmth to the light in the bathroom. Gavin could almost feel it on his skin like the brush of a breath, like the sun on his face. It was nothing like the cold light in the basement. Nothing. Even as his head felt both too heavy and too light at the same time, even as his stomach adjusted to the feeling of being full, he felt the light pressing into his eyes and felt real. 

He felt safe. 

He could still taste what he’d eaten for dinner, savory and sweet and sour, peanut sauce and chicken and noodles swirling together in what may have been the best thing he’d ever tasted. He’d only been able to finish half before he’d sat back, feeling almost too full to move. But Gray said that might happen. Gray said it might take some time for his stomach to get used to eating enough. 

He met his own eyes in the mirror. There were dark circles marking the skin beneath them, and the shadow of a bruise on his left cheek where Schiester had struck him as he dragged him to the gallows. His lip was split at the corner of his mouth. He pressed his tongue to the spot and winced at the burst of pain and the coppery taste. The scars on his face were carved deep, now, puckering the skin around them on the bridge of his nose, across his left cheek, and from the corner of his left eye to the hairline at his temple. The lines were reddish, almost purple, like they had been when they were fresh. It had taken three surgeries with the best surgeons in his parents’ region to make the skin lay flat, before. His face would look like this forever now. He was marked like this forever. 

His gaze dropped to his neck, to the ring of worn, weeping skin where the collar had rested. There were spots where the skin had been rubbed raw from the constant pressure, from Schiester dragging him into place and holding him down while he hurt him. Gavin bit down hard on his lip as he tried to look away from the marks there. As he did, his fingers brushed the scars on his right forearm.

Stormbeck.

He shivered. 

“You ready?” Vera croaked behind him. He jumped. 

“Y-yeah,” he murmured, turning to look at her. She was staring off to the side, her eyes unfocused – as if she couldn’t make herself look right at him. His throat tightened, and he raised one hand to run through his hair. It still smelled like the family’s shampoo. He let the scent wash over him, calming the rapid thrum of his heart. “Yeah, Vera.”

“Good,” she rasped. She stepped forward and plugged the sink, then grabbed the electric trimmer from the counter. “Um. Are you good to, um…” She blinked, and her throat bobbed. “You good if…”

“I can bend over the sink,” Gavin said softly. “That’s… th-that’s fine.”

Vera raised her eyes to his for the first time since… 

She’s not a monster. She’s not going to hurt me.

“O-okay,” she whispered, nodding jerkily. “Good.”

“Vera,” Gavin murmured, and reached out to take her wrist. Her gaze flicked down to the scars on his forearm. She shivered and looked away. “I’m not… Whatever it is you’re thinking right now, I… I didn’t have to… He never…” Gavin blew out a shaking breath. 

Schiester never bent me over anything. Even though I—

Gavin winced at the thought that followed: even though I deserved it.

But he did. Every moment of what happened was recompense, come too late to save any of the twenty-three lives he’d ended before he ever met Isaac.

Vera chewed the inside of her cheek and nodded again. “M’kay,” she murmured, her gaze faraway. “Good.”

She reached for a spacer and slid it onto the blade. Her hands were shaking. Gavin closed his eyes and leaned over the sink, bracing his elbows on the counter. He shivered at the cold ceramic against his forearms. Bent over like this, the collar of his shirt brushed against his face, and he caught Isaac’s scent with his next breath. The trimmer switched on. 

“You still sure you’re okay with this?” Vera said, her voice oddly distant. “I mean…”

“Yeah,” Gavin murmured against the counter. “I don’t… I don’t want to look like… him.”

There was a long silence. The only sound in the bathroom was the sound of the trimmer, and the sound of Gavin’s breaths against the counter. Then, a cool hand settled on the back of his neck, and the spacer touched down a moment later. 

Gavin jerked. There was an electric razor against the back of his head, his hands were tied behind him, he was naked and on his knees on the linoleum washroom in Schiester’s basement. One of Schiester’s men was holding the razor to his head – “he used to cut hair, in his previous life,” Schiester would say, “back before your family destroyed everything good about the world” – and every now and then Alvarado would look at the picture Schiester was holding up for reference, a picture that Schiester would force Gavin to look at while whispering in his ear, “that’s your father, that’s the man who destroyed my life, that’s the man you are, and you’re going to die when I’m finished with you, you’re going to die, you’re going to die, Stormbeck—”

“Gavin?”

Vera’s voice. 

Gavin sobbed weakly, trembling, his knees pressing against the tiles of the bathroom. His wrists burned like they were tied. He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself, blinking tears out of his eyes. Vera’s gentle hands settled on either side of his face and eased his head up so she could look at him. 

“Gavin,” she said again. “Gavin Uriah. You’re okay.”

Gavin’s heart pounded against his ribs and his lungs burned with every inhale. He reached out and grabbed at her wrists. She released him but his grip tightened, and she hesitantly cupped his face again. Gavin’s gaze darted around the small bathroom as he gasped. 

“V-Vera…”

“Do you need me to get Isaac?” she said evenly. 

Yes.

No.

Gavin wet his lips and forced himself to take a breath. “N-no,” he wheezed. “I don’t…” He swallowed hard. His neck felt so strange without the collar. “I d-don’t want him… seeing this. Please, Vera, don’t… I c-can’t hurt him, he… he hurts when, um, wh-when I hurt.”

Vera sat back on her heels and brushed Gavin’s tears away with her thumbs. “Yeah,” she croaked. “He does.”

“I…” Gavin dragged in another slow breath. The room wobbled around him and his eyes darted around the bathroom. No hose in the corner. No cold white light above him. No rope on his wrists, no knife at his throat, no men holding him down, no collar on his neck, no icy blue gaze on him. 

Safe, like Isaac said. Safe.

Gavin cleared his throat. “Um…” He gripped the counter and dragged himself to his feet. His legs were shaking so hard he could barely stand. Vera staggered to her feet beside him. “M-makes me think of, um… of… him… cutting my hair, and…”

“Shit,” Vera breathed. “I mean, I can… I can try and do it with scissors, I’m shit at it, I mean… you’ve seen Sam’s hair when we’re on the run…” She huffed out a laugh. It sounded forced. 

Gavin shook his head. “N-no,” he murmured. “I… I mean, that’s going to… feel similar, too. And I can’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t just… n-not have a haircut ever again, I…” He raised his gaze and met Vera’s eyes. “Please,” he whispered. She blurred with his tears. “Please. I don’t want to l-look like him.”

Vera’s mouth twisted. “Yeah,” she said heavily. “I don’t particularly want you to look like him, either.” 

It felt so unreal, the half-hearted laugh that bubbled in Gavin’s chest. Everything felt real, and unreal, a dream and a memory and a thing that was actually happening, all at once. Shaking, he pushed out a breath and bent over the sink once again. 

“Just talk to me,” he murmured. “Just… just t-talk to me. I want to hear you.”

“Yeah,” Vera said gently. “Can do, Uriah.” 

Heat bloomed in Gavin’s chest at the name. The trimmer switched on again. He drew in a deep breath through his nose. 

“I’m gonna talk about my puppy, because I’m fucking obsessed with her,” Vera said. Gavin could hear the smile in her voice. This time, when the spacer touched the back of his head, he latched onto her voice, let it pull him out of the memories that threatened to suck him in. He kept his eyes open, staring into the sink. The white porcelain reflected the warm light above him. His fingers gripped the counter like he would go tumbling off a cliff if he let go. 

“So her name is Zelda,” Vera said, her voice sounding a little stronger. She drew the trimmer up the back of Gavin’s head. He shivered with the sound, the sensation. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to hold still. 

“Y-yeah?” he croaked. His fingers ached from clutching the counter.

“Yeah,” she said. “She’s a German shepherd. I got her from someone east of the farmhouse in this place called Eden. This lady breeds shepherds as like… her job.” Another pass of the trimmer across the back of his head. “She breeds them specifically to avoid their hip problems, and for temperament. I told her I wanted a chill dog, but I’ll probably still train her to guard the place.”

“That sounds nice,” Gavin said. His throat still felt raw from screaming, even after—

He wasn’t entirely sure how long it had been since he’d been dragged from the basement. 

If I’m not still there—

NO.

“Yeah,” Vera said with a chuckle. “She’s at home right now. I figured dinner might be a little much for you, and I didn’t want to add to that with a crazy puppy.”

“Dinner was good,” Gavin said weakly. “It was… it was good to see everyone.”

“Everyone was glad to see you, too,” Vera murmured. “I mean…”

“Edrissa doesn’t have to be happy to see me,” Gavin said. The trimmer paused in its path across the top of his head. Locks of his dark brown hair lay in the sink. “She doesn’t.”

Vera drew in a deep breath and let it out. The trimmer moved slowly across his hairline. He lifted his head to give Vera easier access. As he did, he felt the cold press of her teeth against his neck, the white-hot agony as she tore through his throat, the pulse of blood on his skin as he fed on his flesh. He shuddered and whined softly. 

“I’m… I’m sorry she couldn’t make it tonight,” Vera said. “She—”

“It’s… not that,” Gavin gasped. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Ahh…” Sharp teeth flashed at him in the dark and his eyes flew open. 

“Hey,” Vera said, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him up. “We can—”

“I just want to finish this,” Gavin rasped. He stayed bent over the sink. His breath riffled the short, single bits of hair on the porcelain. “Please, Vera.”

Please.

Everything he was feeling, felt like memories. They didn’t feel like hallucinations. There were no cold blue eyes watching him. 

This was real. It had to be real, or else…

There was a long pause. Then, the gentle touch of the trimmer against his temple again. “Alright,” Vera murmured. “I’m almost done anyway.” She drew the trimmer across his forehead, down the other temple, around his ear. Back and forth across his head, sending showers of tiny bits of hair into the sink. Gavin scratched at an itch behind his ear. Vera did one more pass with the trimmer and then shut it off. Gavin looked into the sink, breathing slowly.

“Gavin?” Vera murmured. “You… you still with me?”

“Yeah,” Gavin murmured. “I’m… I’m here.” He half-stood, until Vera placed a hand on his shoulder again. 

“Hang on,” she murmured. She gathered the clumps of Gavin’s hair from the sink and pitched them in the trash can. “Just a second. You don’t want bits of hair all over you, believe me.”

“I know,” Gavin mumbled. He remembered all too well the incessant itching after the first haircut, how Schiester had laughed – and how Schiester had decided that from now on he’d have Gavin’s hair cut in the room where he was washed, naked and freezing and ready for the hose when he was done. Gavin shivered as Vera turned on the tap and guided him closer to the sink until his head was level with the stream of water. 

“Just real quick,” Vera murmured. “Just to get all the hair off.” She poured a handful of water over the back of Gavin’s head and gently scrubbed. “Yeah, there was still quite a bit left.”

Gavin forced himself to stop gripping the counter. He reached up, too, and scrubbed his head under the tap. He flinched when a stream of water rolled from his forehead and down his nose. 

“I think that’s probably good,” Vera said, and shut the tap off. She gently eased him up. “Here…” As he stood upright, she wrapped his head in a towel and scrubbed at his short, wet hair. She pulled the towel away and dropped it to the floor. 

Gavin felt a wrenching sensation in his chest as he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked so… young. He looked years younger than when he’d been taken, even with the bags under his eyes, with the sallow tone of his skin. He reached up and ran his fingers through the short, soft hair. His gaze wandered over himself and he took a deep breath.

“I… d-don’t look like him anymore,” he murmured. His eyes smarted. 

“Nope,” Vera said, popping, the p. She shivered and rubbed his shoulder. “No. You don’t.” Her lips quirked a bitter smile. “Now I can look at you. Thank god for that.”

Gavin nodded absentmindedly as he ran his hand through his hair, short enough to almost be fuzz. The scar on his forearm caught his eye and he dropped his arm. He shifted his eyes down and swallowed hard.

“Ready to go join the others?” Vera said gently. “I know they’ll want to see the new haircut, too.” This time, when she smiled, it was easier, brighter. Her shoulders weren’t so tense and pulled up to her ears. Her hands weren’t shaking as much. 

Gavin chewed his lip and sank down, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. “Not, um…” He cleared his throat. His skin ached for Isaac’s touch, and the thought of seeing Gray and Sam made his eyes brim with tears, but… he just needed a moment. 

He needed to look at himself and see someone who wasn’t his father. He raised his gaze to the mirror again. He could only see his face; the rest of his body was cut off by the bottom of the mirror. His throat tightened. 

“Okay,” Vera murmured. “Well… okay.” She turned towards the doorway, then paused, turning back. “You… you want the door open, or closed?”

“Open is fine,” Gavin murmured, his hand drifting up to feel the divots of the scars on his face. The scars Schiester had torn open again – after Isaac put them there, more than a year ago now.

Vera nodded once. “Okay. Come join us when you’re ready. We’re all…” Her eyes swam with tears. She pressed her hand to her chest as she swallowed hard once, twice. “We’re all really happy to see you.” Her voice was ragged.

Gavin wrapped his arms around his chest and nodded. “Th-thanks, Vera.” 

Vera chewed her lip, then turned to go. She went around the corner to the living room at the front of the house, where Gavin could hear quiet conversation, the occasional burst of tight, tense laughter. 

Gavin slumped forward and pressed his face into his hands. His eyes burned with tears that would not fall. He scratched at the needle marks on the inside of his elbow, his other hand pressing into his eyes, smearing his tears across his face. It felt real. 

It all felt real. 

Gavin drew in a deep breath and raised his head. Standing in the doorway to the bathroom was a figure – something that looked just like Edrissa. 

Slowly, he sat up straight, understanding crashing bright and powerful through his blood. Her clear, ice-blue eyes bored into him, her mouth twisted in hate. Her pale blond hair was pulled back away from her ghostly-white face. His gaze flicked to the knife held tight in her hand. 

He couldn’t catch the sob before it made its way out of his chest. The tears finally fell, streaming down his cheeks like blood. 

I knew it. I knew it.

Gavin reached up to pull at his hair, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. The short strands slipped through his fingers. Dread slid into his heart, dull and slippery. Right on its heels was despair. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, never taking his eyes off the specter in the doorway that peered at him with cold blue eyes.

“H-hey, Schiester,” he croaked. “You… you really had me going on this one.” This time, he couldn’t muffle his sob as the specter stepped fully into the bathroom and closed the door behind it.

Continued here

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[sif-the-tsunami]

When I Was His Wife

“Well I was looking forward to/ staying here forever/ ‘cause you asked me to/ Didn’t think I could do better/ So I settled down/ in this ten cent town/ it’s about to break me.” These are the Best Years of my Life- Pistol Annies

This is the follow up to “When You Fall Apart” Which is one of my favorites that I’ve written.

(there is Sy just carrying the weight of all of my own internal chaos)

A/N thank you for everyone who encouraged me to write this, I adore Sy as a character. He seemed like someone who could pull off the impossible. I made some choices in here that not everyone will agree with. Tell me I’m wrong in the comments an we can discuss it there.

Pairing: Sy and Josephine

Warnings: again all of them. discussion of infidelity, Discussion of child loss, discussion of unprotected sexual intercourse, headbutting, day drinking, self medicating, therapy, swearing fealty on ones hunting knife, discussion of knife play, I’m probably missing something

 Everything is going below the cut this time to save anyone who doesn’t like this kind of stuff from unpleasantness.

word count just shy of 7.5K

Thank you to @inlovewithhisblueeyes for letting me bounce ideas off of you, love you sweet girl

tagging: @oddsnendsfanfics @willkatfanfromasia @rocket44 @feralrunaway @littlewrenofrivia​  @summersong69​  @coffeebooksandfandom​ @klaine-92​ @nothingright​ @cavillsim​ @watery-lane​ @above-average-ass-bitch 

unbeta’d

I slept for the next two days, Mama only woke me up long enough to drink some water once she started worrying about me. She managed to wrangle my out of my clothes and into one of Daddy’s shirts we got him that she left in the drawer. My phone was dead, but thankfully Mama and I had the same kind so I could charge it today. What fresh hell was going to be waiting for me on my digital leash? I lay there for a while, the murmur of conversation in the other room was comforting. Mama left a fresh glass of water some time recently, it was still chilly with only a little condensation forming around the sides. The ache in my chest was almost unbearable. The hole in my heart was Syverson sized, being sober made the edges of that abyss feel even more raw and pronounced. I don’t know if my liver could handle me drowning my sorrow much more, but I would give anything to not feel it. I need to make this feeling of worthlessness go away.

When I finally decided to rejoin the land of the living, Mama and my brother Teddy were talking at the kitchen table, discussing about if they should come with me to go get my things or if I should call the sheriff’s office to be monitored. I stayed behind the corner long enough to let them finish what they were going on about.

“If I know Jo well enough, she’s going to need someone to keep her from burning the whole house down with him in it tied to a chair,” my brother chuckled. “She’s been taking care of herself for years. You should have seen how she handled one of these girls who came up to us once on Post.

“Jo was loading up the car when this prissy little thing came walking up, she must have thought she was some kind of hot shit. You would have been so proud of her Mama, the girl said to her that she had been sleeping with James during their deployment. All Jo said back to her was ‘You’ve both been back for something like three months, right, have you seen him since?’ Little Miss Hot Shit stuttered and said ‘Well not yet,’ like she had been really holding out that he was going to. ‘He doesn’t have my new phone number.’ Jo just tiled her head to the side. Smiled at her real sweetly and told her, ‘Baby girl, he’s not going to. He knows how to find you. You were just a rental car to him, sweetie bell. Ford Fiestas are fun as hell to ride but let’s be honest, you aren’t going to pick a Fiesta over the Mercedes Benz you have at home. You aren’t the first and you sure as hell won’t be the last, now go on and get out of here before I ruin the rest of your day like you tried to ruin mine.’ One of the other officer’s wives came up to her and said she was amazed that she handled her so well without breaking Miss Prissy Pant’s face. She just said ‘I’m too pretty to go to prison, Kathy.’ And we hoped in the car. You raised one tough lady, Mama.”

“How many times has that happened, Theodore, I need to know.”

“She has only told me about four women meeting her face to face. The two pregnant girls who got knocked up to get out of their deployments, Prissy Pants, and one who thought that James was in love with her. She evidently broke down in tears on the tarmac when Josie jumped into his arms and he swung her around. But she would get letters tucked into the windshield of her car for months whenever he returned from deployment.”

“You two kept this from me for years, why?”

“Jo said that this was her problem, don’t you remember how you handled it when her first boyfriend ran out on her on prom night? She cried to you and Dad, and you just told her that no one is worth weeping over. She’s just been trying to make you proud, Mama. Daddy might have known because I know they had a really nasty fight about a month before he died.”

I walked out after that. Mama’s eyes were red, “Good morning, baby, do you want pancakes? Bacon and eggs? What do you want, Darlin’?”

“Coffee would be a good start.” I rasped. “Can I use your charger?”

“It’s right here. Cream and sugar?”

“Black as my sense of humor, please Mama.” I said, Teddy chuckled again. I reached over and squeezed my brother’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.”

“I got to look after my little sissy.” He replied using what he called me growing up. “So what are we doing to get over Jimmy?”

“I was thinking tattoos and day drinking?”

“Atta’ girl, Josie. Fuck that douche canoe.”

As soon as my phone was able to turn on, it sat on the counter vibrating for the next five minutes.  Six missed calls from James. And seventy text messages. A few from stores I shop at, but the majority were from my husband.

“Ugh, I just don’t feel like dealing with this right now.” I said as my mom put my coffee in front of me.

“Just leave him on read. I doubt he’s hurting for company.”  Mama said, in almost a snarl. I looked through a few messages. The last one was from this morning. Sweetheart, I’m worried sick about you, I miss you. Please talk to me?

“Ted, do you want to go with me to Walmart so I can get a couple day’s worth of clothes, I am just not ready to go back and I can’t live in Daddy’s old shirts.”

“Of course, we can get some booze while we are there.”

“Get yourself a bathing suit while you are there, honey, its going to be beautiful today and you can go for a swim.” Mama added.

I texted James back finally as I finished my coffee. I’m sorry I worried you, Sy, I have literally been asleep since I got here. I’m not ready.

I understand. I’m sorry, I should have seen how much I’ve been hurting you. I swear to God, I really do love you. Please, let me know what I can do for you.

Yeah, you should have, James. You should have seen how bad you’ve been treating me. You can drop off the face of the earth, that’s what you can do for me, I think spitefully. Thankfully, Mama washed my yoga pants and tank top. It would have to be alright for now. My brother let me wear one of his extra flannel shirts he kept in the back of his car. An hour later, Ted and I were at the store, picking up chips, dip, and cheap champagne. Mama loved mimosas, so I thought it was the least I could do. I grabbed a couple of sun dresses and a bikini, if I was going to be gone for a few days, I was going to come back home looking refreshed, radiant even, and not like the hot pile of garbage I was feeling like. I made a small detour to the cosmetics department, got myself a couple of face masks, hair dye, and sun screen.

“Really? Dark brown, Josie?”

“That’s as close to my natural color as I can, I’m tired of the blonde highlights. I think after this I might just let it come in. Grays and all. Who ever loves me next is going to have to just deal with me as nature intended.”

“I’m proud of you. Do you think you will leave him for good?” He said, Ted has always been very protective of me.

“Well, I certainly can’t leave him for evil, can I?” Making him laugh. One the way outside there was a truck near the front of the store with a sign that read “Puppies for sale.”

“Teddy, we need to see these puppies.” I gasped. Walking up to the truck bed I saw the sweetest little German Shepard puppies. I reached in and they all started flopping all over the place trying to get pets and love. Maybe a puppy was exactly what my hurting heart needed. We haven’t had a dog since Aika passed away. It was looking like I would never have a baby but maybe this was the kind I needed. Puppy snuggles would definitely make that Syverson shaped hole less painful.

“I’ll buy you a puppy if you divorce James.” Ted said to me, half joking.

“Shit, I can afford the puppy, pay for the divorce.” I jest back. “How much for one of the precious babies?”

“$500 a pup, mom has a pedigree, but daddy was the neighbor’s sneaky bastard.” The woman also petting the puppies said. “Mama is in the front if you want to meet her, daddy is very friendly as well.”

I start laughing uncontrollably. With tears in my eyes, I ask if any of the puppies are girls, and she pulls   out a beautiful little one with floppy ears and the biggest smile I had ever seen on a dog. Oh yeah, she was meant for me.

“I’ll take her, do you take checks?” I think I’m ready to start healing.

*****

“Josephine, that son of a bitch you call your husband is here to see you.” Mama shouts from the house. It’s Sunday afternoon now, Teddy and I have exhausted all the snacks and mimosas hours ago and now we were sobering up by the pool. My new baby girl is laying next to my sun chair, chewing on her bone, wearing a pretty pink collar.

“Well, might as well let him out here.” I shout back.

“Are you sure, I can kick his ass to the curb if you want me to, baby.”

“Its okay Mama, I can handle him myself.” Sy walks out in the back yard a couple minutes later. I’m guessing Mama threatened to stick him in a meat grinder.

“I deserved that.” He said, looking thoroughly admonished. “You changed your hair, it looks really good...

“Oh bless your heart, James. That’s not even half of what you deserve.” Ted spoke up before he could finish, not moving his face towards him. He lay there in his swim trunks and dark sunglasses.

“Oh great, all three of you have been drinking. I can tell this is going to go well...” James sighed. “Who is this cutie pie, did your Ma get a new dog?”

“She’s my dog, her name is Stella Rosa.”

“I don’t think anyone asked you to come, Colonel Sanders, what are you doing here?” Ted snapped.

“Hey, I got this, okay? I’m a big girl, please, go in the house. The fuck are you doing here James?” I lift my sun glasses up.

“She’s a very sweet pup. Yeah, you are a good girl for your mama, aren’t you? I came to see you. I want to bring you home, baby, I miss you.” He’s checking out my fresh tan in my new bikini. Subtly, but he does it.

“I’m not ready. I’m not even ready to talk to you. Why would you think that I even want to come home?”

“I don’t know, I asked myself that the entire drive here. I don’t know what I’m even going to do with myself when I go home alone. Pussycat, I can’t begin to think of life without you. I know I fucked up. And I know I can’t take that back. You asked me the other day what I kept that was special just between us. I should have answered you then. All those nights where you fell asleep with your head on my chest, the evenings laying in the back of the truck looking at the stars after driving around trying to find the best nachos in town. And, baby, no matter where we go, yours are always the best. No one else ever got moments like that. You are the only woman I want to slow dance with in the middle of the night.

“You are the only person in the world that I would wait four hours in the freezing cold to get the best brisket in Austin for because you were craving bbq when we were still, you know...” He paused. I don’t think he ever stopped blaming himself for what happened. His knees were never the same after that accident, and usually whenever he stood up from kneeling, they clicked and popped painfully. He leaned a little closer spreading his legs and reached down to pet Stella. She seemed a little leery of him. It is easy to be cynical given the circumstances, but there is something about the way he is talking to me, I haven’t heard him be this earnest in years.

“When was the last time you were with someone other than me?” I can’t bring myself to look at him. I keep my eyes anywhere but on him. My body aches so badly for him to just wrap his arms around me. I miss him.

“When I got held up in Kuwait for two weeks in December...”

“December? You mean when you missed my fucking birthday. Goddammit James...” And the ache is gone. My heart shattered again. He’s going to make me cry again.

“Hey, it was after your birthday, and it was a hate fuck because I was mad that I broke yet another promise to you.”

“That doesn’t make it better.” I snap. “How many that deployment?”

“Just the one. And she’s someone who I knew was more discreet because we had that arrangement before.”

“I swear on my Daddy’s grave that if you are lying to me right now, I will end you Syverson. You couldn’t have waited a few more days?”

“I had no idea when I was going home. We boarded that fucking plane three times and had to turn back because there was a problem with it. I was two seconds away from tearing apart the first Private that so much as looked at me sideways. It felt like, at the time, the less terrible choice.”

“They sound both pretty shitty to me. You are a fucking adult James, you have to be able to control yourself or at least be responsible for your actions. If this is what you think love is, I would rather you hate me.” I stand up. Stella wags her tail excited to get away.

“Josephine, please...” He grasps my wrist, not hard, but there wasn’t anyway I was going to be able to get out of his big hand.

“Please what? Please stay so you can keep treating me like this. There are some people in this world who have no problem playing second or third fiddle, they are just thankful they are in the band. But I deserve to be your first chair, or I don’t want to play at all.”

“Mama wants to know if the jackass is staying for dinner.” Ted shouts at us.

“He going!” “I’m staying!” we yell over each other. He’s not looking at me, he’s not even looking at the pup. His eyes are somewhere else, mentally for a second he is somewhere else also.

“Baby…  I… You have always been my first chair. There is no one else on earth like you. I have never done anything with these women as an act of love. It was always been, and I mean always, just a way to scratch an itch. Every time I was gone, every time things got bad, getting to come home to you was the thing that keep me going, Jo. You have been my safe harbor for the worst parts of my life.”

“James… That doesn’t excuse what you’ve done. You aren’t the man I fell for anymore. This isn’t healthy.” He let go of my wrist, and rubs his face. Those beautiful eyes of his have seen so much. For the first time I think he actually looks… broken. Is this the remorse I have been wanting to see? I try not to keep scores, especially when it comes to my loved ones. But for the first time since things went sour, he looks like I hurt him as much as he has hurt me.

Maybe there was love between us once. However there are just two broken hearts for now.

“Come on in the house, I can at least feed you before I send you back.”

“I think I will just go,” he says it quietly. “I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“Don’t be like that, I am still cooking like I’m making dinner for you, so its way too much for the three of us. Come on in, I made carnitas.”

“I’ll be in, I just need a minute.” He refuses to let me see him cry if he’s not waking up screaming, even after all this time. Whenever we could have a healing moment, he pushes me out. I went inside, and started setting the table.

“Are we poisoning his tacos?” Teddy asked me.

“That’s not the worst idea I’ve heard today.” Mama interjected.

“No, and don’t start anything. He’s eating dinner with us, don’t either of you make him feel bad. I already did that.” Sy walked in at that moment, those blue eyes of his rimmed with red. He looked defeated. The four of us ate our dinner in silence. There was a time where he would have made some kind of comment about eating me out when we had tacos. He looked at me once during the meal, I think he remembered it too. He offered to clear the plates when were all done and sat in uncomfortable silence. The cockiness I had grown accustomed to over the years was gone.

He carried himself like this when we lost our baby, he can’t take that kind of humility. At least not with me.

“Sy...” I waited until the others were out of the room. “Do you still want me to come home with you?”

“Not if it means all we are going to do is get a divorce. I can’t see you every day knowing that I will never get to be yours again. I let them do a lot of terrible things to me over the years, but that… that I can’t handle.” His voice cracked. “If you want out, I will give you everything you ask for. I won’t fight you. But please, give me a chance to fight for you.”

“I don’t think you are exactly in a position to make that that request.” I lean against the counter across the room from him.

“No, I’m not.” he half smirked, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Look, I’m not saying that this can’t still all explode in our faces. But I miss my best friend and that has always been the best part of us. It will never be the same as it was before, it can’t be. However, if you are willing to work with me, I am willing to see if we there is any salvageable. If nothing else, we both need therapy very badly. We can’t just shrug this off. The second that it goes back to where we were, I’m gone.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.” He sniffs hard, and his breath is broken up, tucking his arms against himself. Usually its in authority, this time hes just trying to hug himself. I gesture him to come over and I hug him. He wraps his arms around then envelopes me. Leaning his head on mine, he whispers “I’ll do whatever you want, my darlin.”

I told my mom that I would be going home, she sighed at me. “Do you think this is the best idea?”

“I don’t know, Mama. I think I just want some closure. I told him if he so much as sneezes out of line that I’m gone. Forever. There will be no more chances.”

“Well, baby, I trust you. You are always welcome back here if you need to get away.”

While I’m packing my stuff into the shopping bags I had, I hear a sudden crack and Sy groans then swears. “yeah, I deserved that too.”

“What the fuck did you just do, Theodore?” I yell coming out. Ted was still holding my husband’s hand, and Sy was holding his face. “Did you… just headbutt him?”

“Yes, I did. My sister my might be willing to move past your mistakes, but I’m not. However, I’ve always been the petty one in the family. Hurt her again, they will have to dig your nuts out of your chest cavity, do we understand each other?”

“Yep, perfectly.” Sy grimaced. There were very few men that he would not retaliate against. Teddy, at 6’5, and years of horse wrangling, was one of them. Sy was build like a brick shit house, but so was my big brother. I thought we were old enough to not resort to violence, I have been wrong before.

My probably, potentially, soon to be ex-husband put mine and Stella’s things in the back bench of his truck. I held her in the crook of my arm as I climbed up in the cab. He gently shut the door for me, I noticed his shiner was going to be pretty gnarly in the morning.

He climbed into the other side as I set little Stella down on the floor. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it was a cheap shot, I’ll be fine. At this point, I don’t want to rock the boat with your brother and Ma. She tore me a new asshole before I got outside today.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t changed your mind, say to hell with me and that I’m not worth the hassle.”

“Josephine, I might not have made the appropriate effort to show you how much you mean to me, but you are worth it.” The Syverson shaped hole in my heart roared. Why couldn’t he have been this way all along?

We talked about the girl at the movies, and how she was one of his new officers. She might have come on to him, but he never engaged with her outside of work related things. He told her several times that he wasn’t interested but she was persistent. I halfway apologized for trying to decapitate him with a tequila bottle. He acknowledged that this was a long time coming.  This was the most we had talked about anything deep for months. I don’t know if it was too little and too late though.

The rest of the drive home we made a plan of action. He would move into the office and would stay in there until I invited him back into my bed. We would start couple’s therapy as soon as we could. He would also start seeing a therapist individually. Before we got into town I also told him my final request for our reconciliation. I wanted to see other people. I had been with him since I was nineteen, I have never faltered in my devotion to him. I wanted to see if he was really the one for me.

When I got home, I poured out the rest of my alcohol, save for a bottle of champagne I was saving for our anniversary. He took Stella outside to go potty and came back singing her name “Stella bella, who is a good girl? Your Mama picks good puppies, yes she does. Good girl, Stella bella.”

Stella came prancing back to me with her tail wagging happily. He walked up behind me, and grazes the backs of my arms gently with his knuckles, leaning down to kiss my neck. “Not yet, Sy. I don’t want us to complicate things more than they already are.”

“Josie, what do you mean?”

“I don’t want to have sex with you until we start therapy.”

“So you want us to stop having sex, sleep in separate rooms and at some point you want to start seeing other men.” He starts nodding. He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes. “Okay, it that’s what you want to do. I was thinking about getting my stuff out of the bedroom so I can try to get some sleep. I love you, Pussycat. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, James went to bed. He was snoring on the couch in the office by the time I went to go lay down.      

****

It took us three weeks to get into see a couples therapist. It felt a little validating about my decision that we shouldn’t sleep together until we have really decided to try or not. She had me stay behind and talk with her for another half an hour the first time we met.  She asked me why I wanted to save my marriage with Sy if he’s hurt me for years.

“I don’t rightly know,” I told her. “Maybe its because when we are good we are so damn good. Before we were married, I was warned, I knew that things happened overseas and I shouldn’t take it personally, he’s just a man and not a saint. I never have had a doubt in my mind about if he’s been faithful when he’s been here until recently when a woman he knows started acting weird around me. The love we had was so passionate, like sometimes he thought that if he couldn’t put his hands on me I would disappear. I don’t think I will ever find someone who can love me like that again.”

The therapist suggested that he starts getting treated for PTSD and anger management while we all were working together. I would also have my own separate sessions to work on my own issues. It took a few months but I started seeing small differences in how he was handling things at work that pissed him off. He was able to defuse himself more easily. He became more open with his feelings. I think it helped that we both stopped drinking. We could be a little volatile when we had a pitcher (or three) of margaritas.

There were days with our sessions where we leave emotionally exhausted and not speak to each other the rest of the day, some of them ended in peals of laughter, others where I would cry for most of it. We discussed the infidelity at great lengths. I don’t want to rehash the details but it was definitely one of the bad days. But it seems that the root cause was him using the only the other women for comfort after fairly traumatic events. It’s why it only happened on deployments. He needed to feel something other than pain.

The lack sexual intimacy between the two of us made James start to get creative to initiate closeness between the two of us. He started helping me make dinner on the weekends, or he would bring me my coffee in the morning the way I like it. Mama and Teddy started coming over occasionally for suppers. It was nice to have the house filled with laughter. We started talking again like when we first started dating. He would take the time to go with me grocery shopping.

He started asking me out on dates again. Myself, him and Stella would drive out to the country, with a picnic basket that he would even prepare himself and we would go star gazing like we used to. I loved seeing the effort, but that hole still ached in my chest the whole time. The pieces should have all fit together, but here I was still not sure I could commit to him for the rest of my life.

On one of these dates, he asked me what I thought about him retiring. He had been in for almost nineteen years at this point and had far exceeded is expectations for being in the Army as an officer.

“I kind of just want to sell off all our extra shit and buy a really nice Air-stream. We can pull it with my truck. Just travel up and down the continent, I know you always have wanted to see the Northern Lights, we can just go anywhere. Me, you and Stella would visit where ever we could find a parking spot.”

“That sounds nice, Sy.” It came out a little half hearted.

“You don’t sound convinced, sweetheart.” He said, started sounding concerned.

“Hun, I don’t want to have a fight right now, so please just let me get this off my chest.” I sigh. And then I told him about the pain in my chest that I’ve had since my night in jail. That sometimes, like tonight, it was only a dull ache. That other times the edges are still so sharp that it feels like the pain was going to swallow me whole. He sits up, jaw dropped.

“Why haven’t you told me this before? I… Jo… son of a bitch.” He groans. He lays back down, the same defeated tone came back that I hadn’t heard since Mama’s house. “I’m trying my best, Josephine, but I feel like I have one hand tied behind my back… you will never love me again, will you?  I can grovel, and beg. I don’t know what else I need to do. I know what I want to do, but it will just hurt you more.”

“What do you want to do, Sy?”

“I want to kiss every part of your skin, remind your body that I worship it. I want to pin you to the wall of our hallway and make love to you. I want to go to sleep with my nose buried in in your hair, and wake up sliding inside of you. I have since you came home. Hell, I always want to do that with you. But that can’t be the only thing that keeps us together.” He looked over at Stella sprawl out.

“I didn’t say this to hurt you, hun. I just wanted to be honest with you.”

“I know, I… just don’t want to cause you more misery. I really thought we were, you know, heading back in the right direction.”

“We have been, and honestly, I think if we threw in the towel now, it would cause more harm than good.” I say as the tears well up in my eyes. For the first time since I was taken away, I straddle his hips. He sits up and I place my hands on either side of his face, then lean in to kiss him. He kisses me back with the same hunger. I missed him. The ache dulled a little until he pulled away.

“Let’s get going, Jo, I want you so fucking bad. I want to take you here and now, I want to make you scream my name and damn anyone who catches us. We need to stop this, the agreement was that we wouldn’t. Fuck I’ve missed how you taste.” He said before stealing one more kiss.

*****

The next week was awkward to say the least, the therapist was pleased about the kissing and that I opened up. She said that it was possible that the pain would go away, but that he and I needed to remember that it was like I was grieving. In the mean time, we should continue to take it slowly because we both needed to be sure. The following few days he was distant, and the ache returned in full force.

With his PTSD treatments, he was having less nightmares. It was the best thing I could ask for. There were still times where he would yell in his sleep but they had become farther and farther apart. It was a night after he had his individual treatment, he had come home talking about how he felt the night of my breakdown. He came home and told me a little bit, how he had never seen me so angry before, thrashing about like a caged animal. He hated himself for pushing me there. That night, in the darkness of the small hours, I woke up from being dead asleep hearing him say my name in a panic. He then repeated sounding more and more scared. “Josie, oh my god, Josie, no. I’m sorry Jo, I didn’t mean to. JoJo!”

I rushed into the office, he was jerking violently in his sleep about on the couch. I turned on the light near his head. When these dreams happen, his eyes were usually opened, it creeps my out every time. I start to gently wake him up, saying his name and touching him as gently as possible. It took a few moments but he came back to me.

“Jo, Jesus fuck, you’re alright?”

“Of course I am, sweetheart, what happened? I’m right here, I’m okay, you are okay, everything is okay.”

“I dreamed we were back in the kitchen, you were under me. Screaming and whipping about. I had to restrain you more then I accidentally broke your neck and you died in my arms. It felt real, baby, I was holding your body and then the sheriff came and that’s when you woke me up. Oh my god. I fucking can’t. I can’t anymore. I need you, Josie. If something happens to you, oh fuck.” I have never seen James sob like this. He pawed at me until I was wrapped in his arms. I slipped my arms around his neck and held his head to mine. His sobs were hard. We sat there until he let it all out.

“Come on, big man, let’s get you into bed. Come with me. I’ll stay with you all night.” He nodded at me and followed me to the bed we used to share. I wrapped him up in our fluffy blankets. He snuggled into me and was asleep in moments. I stayed there in his arms until he woke up. The Syverson shaped hole hurt less that night.

When he woke up he started crying again. He held me and started kissing my face. “Thank god. I thought you coming to me last night was another dream.”

“No baby, I’m here.” He sniffed hard and squeezed me closer to him. We went back to sleep for a few more hours and when we got up for the day he moved his things back into our bedroom. We might not have started other marital acts but we both started sleeping better having the other person in bed. It had been almost six months we started trying to reconcile.

*****

It had been an interesting couple of months while we started the transition for him to retire. Soon it was only a matter of days. The dates had continued, the kissing had continued, but something was keeping me back from being able to say that the next step was what I wanted. Therapy continued, and we would be seeing her for the next few months. Before I left my private session she asked me if I had given myself a deadline. She was concerned that I might keep dragging it out and that would just make both of us miserable. I told her I had an idea and that I planned on pulling the trigger soon.

Sy’s superiors were setting up a retirement ceremony for him, followed by a dinner with the upper chain of command. He wasn’t looking forward to it, Sy just wanted to be out and done. He came home one day while I was watching a show based on a book series I had read when we first were married. The redheaded Scot swore fealty to his wife, offering to pierce his own heart with a dagger if he should ever rebel against her again.  

“What’s this you’re watching?” He asked.

“Outlander, it just picked back up again from a season break. It’s pretty damn close to the book.”

“So is this what the ladies like these days, men in kilts offering to off themselves if they fuck up?”

“Women have liked men in kilts since I can remember. Why do you think we go to the Renn Faire every year.” I wink at him. “But yeah, I’m sure that does it for some people.”

“Well shit, Pussycat, it’s the only thing I haven’t done.” Sy walked out of the room and came back with his favorite hunting knife. It had been his dad’s once upon a time. The handle was made out of buck horn. In his warn and dusty uniform, he knelt in front of me on the living room floor. His beautiful blue eyes looking into mine, “Well, this isn’t iron, and it definitely isn’t holy. However, I will swear on it either way. Josephine, you are the only woman I have ever loved, you are my best friend, and I adore you. I will never do anything to make you doubt that love or loyalty again. If I ever do anything that makes you feel like you are less than the beautiful, smart, incredible, sexy creature that you are, you can sink this right in my heart. I will even hold it there for you so all you have to do is press it right in.” He finishes with a tongue click as an exclamation.      

“James, you didn’t need to do this. You know I am weird about grand gestures.”

“No, I think I do. I said my vows to you on our wedding rings and I wasn’t able to keep it. But, I will never break this one. If I can earn your love back, I will never do anything to make you regret giving me this chance to be your man.” He still held the knife against his chest with one hand, and placed my hand over his with the other. “So what do you think, baby girl? We still have a long way to go, but I can’t think of anyone else I would rather struggle with.”

“I think you just put yourself in a position that I could just end you now if I wanted to.” I say with my usual sass.

“Yes, you could. I don’t think you will though.” He said smiling, his voice was husky and deep as usual. I love that easy smile of his.

“Is it wrong that I want to get on your lap and make out with you while I hold this against you.” His eyebrow raised. “Maybe more than just make out with you.”

“Oh, don’t you tease me now, sweet thing. I don’t want to start anything you won’t finish.”

“Who said I won’t finish it, Colonel Syverson?” His eyes grew as big as dinner plates.  

“Wait, do you mean it?” He choked.

“Yeah, I do mean it.” I laughed. Before I could get up, he had hiked the skirt of the dress I was wearing up to my hips, pulling me to the edge of the sofa, revealing that I had skipped a certain garment that day. “I had an idea for after supper, but if you want we can do this now…. Oh fuck I’ve missed this.”

Before I can even finish my sentence, he was going to town with his tongue on his favorite part of my body. He remembered everything that made me squeal in delight. From the lack of sex on both of our ends, he was able to get me off easily. My body was desperate for his touch. He stopped once my body was trembling, kissing one of my thighs from my apex to my knee. He suddenly grunted and bit down on a tender part. He started panting and kissed the spot he bit.

“I’m sorry, sugar, I didn’t want to only last for two or three thrusts. Fuck, I have missed this pretty pussy. You taste so good.” He had a handful of his own cum and looked around for a tissue. Without a word, I grabbed his hand and licked it clean, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. He moaned out and then stood up. He took his shirt off, and lifted me up off the couch. I knew this hurt his back and knees but I wasn’t about to chastise him for wanting to be romantic. He carried me like we were on our honeymoon back to the bedroom. He lay me down as gently as possible then finished stripping himself. I took my dress off leaving myself exposed to him in a way that I haven’t in almost a year. Sy joined me on the bed, open and vulnerable to me. I loved those thick thighs and torso of his, he always eclipsed me.

“Hello ladies, nice to finally see you again.” He purred as he licked and sucked on my nipples. He leaned to one side and massaged my breasts with one of his hands. “Glad to see you that you missed me too.”

Before long, I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh. He spread my legs and rubbed himself against my opening. He leaned down and kissed my neck before sliding himself inside of me. I moan his name as he gently started making love to me. Bearing his weight on his elbows, he kissed and nipped at my neck.

Breathlessly, he told me how much he missed my body, how much he loved me, how lucky he was to have me. As his tempo increased, he started to whisper in me ear.

“Josephine, tell me what you are.” I looked at him confused. “You are my wife, I want you to tell me that you are my wife.”

“I’m your wife, James.” I tell him as lovingly as possible.

“Louder, baby.”

“I’m your wife.” I said loud and clearly. The Syverson shaped hole in my chest is gone, finally. Replaced with the warmth of knowing we were going to be able to survive this.

“Even louder, Jo.” I yell it out and he thrusts harder and deeper. “Keep going, beautiful, I want the whole neighborhood to know.”

I screamed it as he started pounding me harder, building his orgasm. As my own starts its crescendo, I screamed his name and arched my back as he pulls my hips down on himself and spilled into me. He lay down beside me, twitching and jerking a little. He kisses all the parts of my skin that is available to his reach.

“I think we should order a pizza for dinner tonight,” He says after a few minutes of catching his breath. “So we can stay in bed and make love again.”

“Or, and hear me out. I put my dress back on, you get dressed and we go out for sushi with your cum dripping down my thighs. What do you think about that?”

“Shit, I missed you being a damn freak like that. Do I we get to have more fun tonight if I say yes?” He chuckles, then kisses my hand, “I still want you to ride me with my knife pointed at me some time tonight.”  

“Aren’t you scared I’m going to cut off a nipple or something.”

“You, with a knife? To be honest, cutting off my nipple is the least of my concerns. How do I know if this just isn’t a whole plan to lure me into complacency with sex and sushi, then you just murder me in my sleep.” He rolled onto his back and whined for a second, but got up. He put on a pair of khaki shorts and a black Metallica t-shirt as I got into my dress again.

“God damn woman, you are so fucking sexy.” He tells me as he opens the door on my side of the truck and leans down to kiss me again. As I climb up he give my butt a little tap just like he used to and closes the door for me. The ache I’ve been feeling these long months has subsided. Sitting across the cab from me, holding my hand, he asks if we want to go look at travel trailers this weekend. For the first time in a while, I feel like everything is going to be alright.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

PRINCE OF DAXAMITE

Mon El x Reader

WARNINGS: smut, non-con/dub-con, vaginal sex, brief oral sex (f receiving)

WORD COUNT: 1696

Imagine being a peasant going to Mon El's birthday celebration back on Daxamite so you can cause a riot but he takes interest in you.

The upbeat music filled my ears as I stepped through the doors of the hall, my dress brushing my ankles. I glanced around and spotted a table with an assortment of food laid out and headed straight for it, ready to eat and ignore anyone that tried to talk to me. You see, I hated the ways of my people, on Daxamite all they did was party, but I knew it was to mask what was really happening. While the wealthy gorged themselves on expensive alcohols and rich foods the poor were left to starve in the streets, lucky to get even a sip of water a day. I was one of those poor people, but I managed to clean myself up enough to get a job with the royal tailor because of my talents with a needle and thread. I'd spent the last week making my dress for this ball, a ball which I was planning to use to make a fuss and cause a riot. Me and some peasants were planning it - ready to revolt.

I started to shove food in my mouth, seeing as I'd probably never eat this much food again in my life. Just as I was a about to pop another strawberry tart in my mouth a felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned around and quickly swallowed what I was chewing, coming face-to-face with the prince. Great. I was kind of hoping to avoid any royals but oh well.

"Is there a reason a lady as beautiful as yourself is alone tonight?" He said with a slight smirk. I gave him a fake smile and came up with the most condescending thing I could.

"Because I don't like jackasses or narcissistic princes." And I walked off, leaving him stood there smiling (probably at the thought of getting to chase me around all evening).

About half an hour later I was happy to say that the prince hadn't made any advances on me, but I had noticed him eyeing me from across the large hall several times. I scanned the room for him but couldn't see him anywhere, confusing crossing my face. Where was he? Just as I was about to go back to eating all the food I felt a breath on the back of my neck. I turned my head to the side to see him, his hands hovering over my waist.

"Miss me yet?" He whispered, sending a shiver of fear and excitement down my spine. No. I was here to revolt against him, not have a 'good time' with him. I shook my head and turned around.

"Look, asshole, I don't give a crap who you are, get your greedy hands off me and grope some other girl who's rich and bowing at your feet." I spat before trying to walk off. Before I could get far, he grabbed my wrist and spoke down at me.

"My name is Mon El and I'm your prince. It'd do you well to show me a little respect." He hissed in my ear, before I yanked my arm from his grasp and disappeared into the crowd of dancing people. I got as far away from him as I could, moving over to the agreed window to give the signal for the riot to start.

As I begun to peer out the already open window, looking for my friend, I felt a hand wrap firmly around my upper arm and drag me away.

"Let me go!" I shouted as I was pulled into an empty hallway and shoved against a wall. Mon El pinned my wrist behind my back with one hand, using his hips to pin my front to the wall. "Get off me you-" I was cut off my him tugging my hair back so he could whisper in my ear.

"If you insult me again, you'll find out exactly what I want to do with that sharp little tongue of yours." He whispered venomously, looking me in the eye. "And I know why you're here, your friend you were looking for is already in custody." I gulped and stifled tears, knowing this would probably end with all our heads on pikes. "My parents wanted to throw you in a cell too, but I convinced them to let me have my way with you instead." He continued, before letting go of my hair and dragging me up some stairs.

He pushed me into a big room with a four-poster bed, a desk with some papers littered on it and some big double doors leading to a balcony in it. The door slammed behind us and I heard the click of a lock.

The look he had in his eyes when he turned back around could only be described as one of lust, rage and want. And that both scared and excited me.

“Fuckin’ whore.” Mon El spat, cornering me and gripping my jaw and in a tight hold, tilting my head back so my eyes met his. “Just begging to be punished, huh?” He spat and I gulped. He roughly let go of me and my head hung low. “Maybe next time you’ll think of the consequences before trying to turn my own people against me.”

With that, he yanked me to my feet, tossing me to the bed and swiftly removing my clothes. I struggled against him, writhing out of his grip but he simply slapped my across the face and told me he’d do worse if I didn’t lay still for him. Once my dress and underwear was gone he chained my wrists and ankles with heavy links of metal to the four post of his super-king sized bed - so I was spread eagle and open for him, at his mercy to do as he pleased.

I winced at the sound of his belt hitting the floor, the rest of his clothes following shortly. He claimed over me, straddling my hips and fisting his cock in his hand, stroking himself lazily and he ran a finger through my folds. A gasp escaped me as he spat onto my clit, a shiver running through me at the sensation.

“Don’t worry, slut, I’ll give you what you need.” He cooed in my ear when a moan escaped me, his teeth nipping at my ear-lobe. Mon El lined himself up with my core, running his mushroom head up to my clit and back again before sheathing himself in one, painful thrust that send me screaming.

“Fuck, you’re right. Let’s see how your little pussy can take me.” He groaned as he begun to piston his hips, his length deeper inside me than I explained. As his top struck my cervix I cried out, hands balling into fists and arms tugging at the chains hopelessly. My moans were silenced slightly when I felt his long fingers wrap around my throat, applying enough pressure to have me struggling for breath with every pump of his cock.

When his thumb connected with my clit I felt my orgasm reluctantly crashing down on me, a smirk spreading across Mon El’s face as my walls clamped down on him with a vice grip.

“And here I was thinking you couldn’t get any fucking tighter.” He chuckled, fake-pouting at my fucked out expression. “Awh, did you think I’d really only get one? You filthy slut. I want to see how many I can get out of you...” he trailed off with a moan as my walls fluttered at his words. My cheeks reddened with a blush at my shame: how could his words be turning me on? Another release came crashing over me, a loud moan tearing from my throat.

“P-please.” I choked out.

“Please what?” He said in a locking tone, amusement lacing his features.

“Please slow down.” I gasped and he raised a brow.

“Like this?” He challenged, snapping his hips into mine with so much force be head was banging into the headboard with every thrust. His pace picked up, too, if that was even possible.

“It’s t-too much!” I screamed out as a third orgasm ripped through me.

“Really sweetheart? Because you tight McIntyre is telling me otherwise. Clamping down on me so hard, milking my cock. Anyone would guess you want to be stuffed with my cum.” Mon El taunted. At seeing my expression after he cooed, “is that it, slut? You want to be full of cum? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”

“Hnnnng.” I moaned out, unable to form words. My sound of jumbled words sent a laugh through the Prince, his lips descending to my ear. “C’mon, whore, one more. Then you can get on those pretty knees for me.” He whispered. His tongue traced over the shell of my ear and his thumb circled my abused numb in tight circles. “F-fuck.” He groaned out, hips faltering as he blew his load into me, triggering my fourth orgasm of the night.

He still after a few finishing thrusts, pulling out slowly and ogling at the sight of a mixture of our cum spilling out of my fucked-out whole.

“Fuck, look at that baby, you ruined little whole is weeping with my cum.” Mon El observed, leaning in and licking a fat stripe up my lips. I moaned out lewdly, his tongue lapping around my cunt and eating me out like a man starved, groaning into me for effect. The vibrations sent shivers through me and he finally pulled away after dragging one more release from my quivering pussy.

He leant over me, hands making quick work of the chains until my wrists and ankles were free - but now void of bruises. He bent down to my ear, his lips brushing shay it almost teasingly as he husked lowly and demandingly, with no space to negotiate:

“Get on your knees.”

[nooowestayandgetcaught]

ALL 40 BAYBEE!!!!! GIMME SUM ANSWERS

5) Share one of your strengths.

Being,,, prolific?? ?????? ??? ???????????

6) Share one of your weaknesses.

My own mind. No really I'm basically my own worst enemy because I'm too much of a perfectionist and hate myself and mess myself up.

7) Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Stars are the many, many eyes left behind of the Old Gods.

Arya heard this before. She's heard that the stars are the last of the Weeping Lady's tears. They are the eternally bleeding wounds of the Great Shepard according to the Dothraki. They are the drops of poison given to Baelor the Beloved as he laid asleep. They are the immortal sparks of R'hallor's breath. Arya believes the stars are nothing. They exist in a chasm of darkness and death, and no-one is meant to understand why.

Evermore (T, Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Game of Thrones, 1179 words)

I HAD A LOT OF FUN GOING THROUGH WESTOROS MYTHOLOGY AND TALES IN HISTORY TO MAKE THAT PART. AND THEN WRITING OUT ARYA'S THOUGHTS ABOUT THAT.

8) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

"I liked this shirt, you know," Will complains faintly.

Behind him, one of the car-windows rattle. A badly burned hand emerges from the smoke, clawing helplessly.

"We will find you another," Hannibal tells him, disregarding the murderer's intense, gagging screams.

"That's not the point."

"You're holding on needlessly to the limited value of your material possessions, Will. That's not like you." Hannibal lightly clucks his tongue as if disapproving, approaching him and thumbing down Will's jaw. He's warm and wet, and glorious. He's evolving.

"Says the man who buys Patek Philippe wristwatches," Will retorts softly. "For his own pleasure."

The corner of Hannibal's mouth smirks.

"And what kind of pleasure exists within your mind's eye right now, Will?"

"Ripping out your jugular vein with my teeth," Will murmurs, stroking his lambskin-gloved thumb against Hannibal's neck.

"I would be honored."

The Crescendo Of Dying Screams (M, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal (TV), 908 words)

THIS IS JUST FUN!!! THEY WERE FUN TO WRITE FOR AGAIN AND I HAVE NOT WRITTEN FOR HANNIGRAM IN A WHILE!!

13) What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Even if you think it sucks,,,, write it down anyway and then fix it later. The important part is to write and start writing.

14) What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Thankfully,,, I don't think I've come across any yet.

15) If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

I would love to see Perambulate (G, Princess Bubblegum/Marceline & Prince Gumball/Marshall Lee, Adventure Time, 1358 words) done in a comic at least because I NEED THESE TWO CANON COUPLES TO MEET AND BE SILLY. CANON WLW AND MLM.

16) If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

NOT REALISTIC. I DO NOT FUNCTION LIKE THAT

17) Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I start out from beginning to ending but sometimes I gotta skip around to keep it going if I get stuck.

18) Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

*shrugs*

19) Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

It's probably a little moth trapped in a jar and beating itself senselessly against the glass, but it kind of enjoys it??

20) Describe your perfect writing conditions.

Wrapped in a blanket, alone in my room with headphones and music blasting, with a large water bottle and a little bit of chocolate.

21) How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Depends really! Sometimes I'll go through and correct once, and sometimes I will go through like 14 times in one day!

24) Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

I have! I will upload it again sometime but like,,,,, the person I had made it for in an AO3 fest basically fucked off and me removing it was me going "nah fuck this,,,, it ain't yours anymore!!!"

27) How do you feel about collaborations?

I have done them! I think they're nice! I do not like long term collaboration projects but for a oneshot, yes!

28) Share your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

@glove23 - I look up to this fic writer so much! They have been battling depression and anxiety, and the complexities of their ADHD, for such a long time and whenever they post something,,, I get so excited! I'm really proud of them! It's hard enough for me to write on a bad mental health day, and I know the struggle they go through, and it's INCREDIBLE to see what they can do! They have been writing since they were young and it really shows how much they love writing and how hard they work on getting the characterization and dialogue to be spot on! Obsessed with their work! (AO3)

@not-so-mundane-after-all-97 - What a powerhouse! Incredible writing and fantastic handling of how she structures plot! Constantly in awe of the ideas she has and when they are well-executed (and they are all of the time)! If you are a fan of Will/Lyra from HDM, this is the person to go to for quality! I promise! (AO3)

other writers I really like are @spookywitchnerd24, @theschubita, @anxiouss-princess, @asajjvxntress, @kingburu, @rapha-writes

29) If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

ngl I really wanna do the "they get back from horse riding and Aleksander refuses to leave Alina's side while she's getting healed" sequel to you are too well tangled in my soul by @glove23

31) Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

Meh. It depends on the thing I'm writing.

32) How do you feel about smut?

I write it all of the time and read it all of the time. I don't think it's a big deal at all. I respect that it's uncomfy for a lot of people

33) How do you feel about crack?

It's fun! And it can be done well! I saw more crack fic being done back in,,,, like the early 00s and now I don't see it as much,,,,, sad

34) What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

You know what,,, I was just discussing the psychology of why noncon fic is so popular on AO3 (and I have written it before and to my surprise IT GETS THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS OF VIEWS) and,,, I think the key components to answering this question is understanding that 1) AO3 allows noncon fic to exist therefore it's a dumping ground and 2) rape culture is so embedded into US-centric society especially and 3) there's a lot of traumatized people on AO3 and likely creating noncon to process what happened to them and 4) it's a taboo subject and humanity has been drawn to and obsessed with what is taboo since forever,,,, and tbh the taboo is fascinating to me! It does draw me in! I have written for it and I've read it, and I think it's important to ask questions and examine why we do this!

35) Would you ever kill off a canon character?

HELL YEAH. ABSOLUTELY. I HAVE DONE IT BEFORE AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN!! I prefer more "oh my god they're dead--OH! now they're alive! yayyyyy!" over permanent character death

36) Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3. AO3 is queen. I'm not gonna badmouth FFN and Wattpad in terms of people who go there because that's your business however FFN and Wattpad are largely restrictive and mainstream corporate owned areas of interest that don't give a single shit about their users.

38) Talk about a review that made your day.

Whenever my writer friends comment on my fic,,, I literally get emotional. Like those are my favorite comments to see :)

39) Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

BE SAD FOR HALF A SECOND AND THEN FIGHT.

[theblackbirdsgemimagines]

Ramble away, cause I feel the twisted head rot, I kinda wanna see what you think about our bois. ~ a pocket sized dragon hops in excitement.

A POCKET SIZED DWAGOOOOOONNNN 😭💞💞💞 That’s so BLESSED, and tysm omg, I’m very glad to just spill out my barking on every boy, bc yEAH THE BRAIN ROT SKDHAKDB

THE BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL LOL

Everything I breathe ends up relating to TWST in some way, like at this point just let me take my friends, cousins, and pets, and of course Lulu and Seb, and I will have 1. A Gottdamned Harem, 2. So Many Children, and 3. NEVER WANT TO LEAVE. Kwfhskdhjwek

Ok this is gonna be long bc I gotta cover all my boys, so rip lol.

Dorm Leads:

Riddle

GOD, my Fucking Baby, my CHILD, my SWEET BABY BOY, I’M 👁💧👄💧👁

I would die for him, beetch, he is PRECIOUS ♥️

He reminds me of how I feel Ciel would behave if S/O took the place as Sebastian’s contracee, too, so like 🥺 Lots of feels 😭

Is Son, I have adopted him now. If you mistreat him, don’t ever speak to me or my son ever again. I’ll FIGHT his MOM, don’t TEST me. I’m his new mom now. His BIRD mom. So proud of him, he’s like...one of the few that’s actually shown growth in canon after his overblot kshdkadjs

Leona

👁💧👄💧👁

.....I am a Mere Simp....

Ya’ll.... I swearh to ghOD I simped hard for Scar back when I was a wee thing, I did NOT expect to simp for him AGAIN LATER IN LIFE, what the FUCK aidhskdhskdj

Like shit bitch, damn, you may not be king of Afterglow honey, but you can be king of my heart if you wAnt to bb....

Leona: *smiles once, even if it’s smugly*

Me: *WEEPING* Look at hiiiiiiim!! My sunshine booooooy! 😭

Does this make me a furry

Probably

I am too Simp to Care Anymore

I HESITATED TO GET ATTACHED BC THIS BOY LOOKS LIKE A FUCKIN WOMANIZER IF I EVER SAW ONE, BUT HE DRINKS HIS RESPECT WOMEN JUICE EVERY SINGLE MORNING AND I WAS A GONNER SNDJAJDHSJ

FUCK

Call me a Herbivore again, bully me //SLAPPED

Azul

He secretly a lil shit sometimes, but tha’s ok, it’s mostly in a silly way, especially post overblot~ UvU

The sweetest bby everytime I read fanposts on him, like god, ah 💜💜💜 WHOMST COULD BULLY SUCH A CUTE CHUBBY OCTOBABY I’LL FIGHT ALL OF EM!! A sweetheart 10/10 would be his friend 💗 Not making contracts with him tho, lol

...ok maybe SOME after his overblot, but they’re able to be easily reversed now, so it’s way more chill andhsjdj

Kalim

FUCK!!!! F U C K!!!! BABYYYYYYY!!!! BABY!!!! I HAVE ADOPTED HIM IF YOU TOUCH HIM YOU D I E

He is literally so sweet, anytime anyone was like “you’re so nice it’s annoying” I WAS READY TO COME FLYING IN TO BITCH SLAP THEM LIKE AJDHSKDHSJ (even if I also loved them lol)

Like NO you are WRONG whfksjd

He has also grown so much, and I am proud ♥️🧡

Vil

Jesus Christ, canon Vil is Hurting Meeeeee ajdhskdhsj

My fave fanon Vil is the one that recognizes all different types of beauty, though~ uvu and is v encouraging to anyone that may be struggling with self hatred 💜

Canon: Vil is pretty~.

Me: Wow, wtf???? He IS so pretty... How rude I didn’t think you were serious! Wow him??? Pretty??? Wow??? Wow...

Idia

I’m not sure yet, as I haven’t seen him very often, but of the few times that I have: BIG same, huge mood, and Me FUCKING Too, goddamn akdhakdj

Idia is my Anxiety and Anime Nerd personified tbh lol

What Ortho is to him are what all my comfort characters are to me, honestly.

Like what would you like bby, you want that singing voice?? Ok here comes a synthesizer just special for you~. Ily, mwah~ u3u 💕

Malleus

HEAVY BREATHING

Ok maybe it’s just the lack of story/info out on him yet, but I don’t currently simp as hard for him compared to Leona, I’ll admit jajdkajd

BUT BOY HOWDEY DO I EVER STILL S I M P...

He Is Baby... And I Lob Him....

I am going to smooch those horns and forehead crown of beautiful scales 🖤🖤🖤 I am going to do it!!!! Here I go!!!

HE CAN HAVE ALL THE ICE CREAM AND TAMAGATCHI DATES HE WANTS I’M- 😭

This man is too precious for words, and I have so much childhood nostelgia to ‘enchanted’ woods, and being in the mountains, so he has Old Fae Friend vibes to me~🖤

DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON F-

Ngl I ship him and Leona a lil bit lol

No, not just bc that makes a poly with my two faves easier, but that is a bonus factor jadhajdj

Vice Dorm Heads:

Trey

Oh my god, the Daddy to my Mommy with all these newly adopted lil kids of ours, ya know??? What a wholesome sweetie and funny lil shit jahdksdh~

I love him, I would gladly make tarts with, AND for him 💚💚💚

The kind of boi who I’d ship HARD with anyone he started dating bc My God it would warm my heart So Much 💞💞

Ruggie (unofficial but may as well be at this point lol)

He took a while to grow on me kadhskdhsj

But I think he’d be a sweet, if a trouble-maker of a friend to have~.

Dank you for taking care of my sweet lion bby, honey, I’m sure Farrena is a sweetheart, but boi I hope he gets his shit together to fix up where Ruggie lives 😭

I think if I met his granny, I’d CRY jadhajsh 💗💗

Leech Twins (?)

Idk if they’re vice leaders, but who cares lol

THESE are the older Big Brothers in every sense of the word. (My canon ages most everyone up just a bit, save for Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Kalim, Jamil, Cheka, and anyone already 20+)

The ANNOYING older big brothers, lol.

The ones that hug you to death (Floyd), or use you for an arm rest (Jade), and specifically Do the thing you asked/told them NOT to Do.

This is fine with me tho, I’m an only child, please give me the experience of annoying older brothers lol 💙💚

Jamil

I used to hate you bby, I’m so sorry akdhskdhs

I’ve adopted him now, and I’m v proud he’s trying, but making clear what his boundaries are, and trying to come out of a shell he was made to be in for so long 😭

AND HIS DANCING IS SICK LIKE HONESTLY I’M SUCH A PROUD MOM 💗💗💗

Rook

God. FUCKING Rook, lol.

IDK IF I SHOULD TRUST YOU, but I also kinda wanna be your friend akdhakdjs

HE CONCERNS ME but he also seems nice and v sweet sometimes, lmao

Blz don’t stalk me tho 😬

STOP SHOOTING YOUR ARROWS AROUND SCHOOL YOU BLOODY HEATHEN FRENCH PRISS, YOU ARE GOING TO KILL SOMEONE

Also, if he DARES hunt cute animals around me, especially BIRDS, I am going to GRIP him jahdkahdsk

He’s like if Lord Druitt was a Little More Nice and a Little Bit Less Creepy ajdhak

Lilia:

GOD.

I LOVE THIS FUCKING GRANDPA.

I. FUCKING. LOVE. THIS FUCKING. GRANDPA.

I absolutely hc him as nonbinary w/masc pronouns, I absoLUTELY do.

I adore him, I love him, I haven’t gotten a squish (hardcore desire to be someone’s friend, lol) this hard for a character since AngelDust, I-

Pwease be nonbinary friends with me, Lilia 🥺

THE ONLY PERSON HERE SHORTER THAN ME, BUT I’LL TAKE IT AJDHAKDHJS

Anyone know Corpse and how he plays Among Us? That’s how I see Lilia playing his video games with friends and I JUST I JUST I J U S T

The Spencer to your Carly.

He and Crowley are free to compete as Dad with me too like honestly kshdkadjjs

He’ll always be granpa tho uvu 💚💖🖤

Extras:

Ace

God, the Fucking Annoying Middle Brother that pranks you ALL THE DAMN TIME, but I love him andhakdhsk

Deuce

THE BROTHER THAT WILL BEAT UP YOUR BULLIES 💙💙💙 SWEET BABY BOY

The Josh to Ace’s Drake. The Cody to Ace’s Zack. The Freddie to your Carly and Ace’s Sam.

If he and Ace started dating, tho, I would CRY.

But regardless who they end up dating, it’ll be slow burn friends to lovers, and literally the most adorable shit to watch EVER 💞💞💞😭

Cater

Seems Like A Womanizer But Actually Drinks His Reapect Women Juice And We Stan That 🧡

Can always count on him to help tou get the best Magicram shots, bless you Cater 🧡🧡

Also rly wanna be his friend, ngl 😭 Even IF he pranks me a lot kadhakdhsj

Jack:

H E AV Y BR EA T H IN G

Ngl my feelings for him are in the air IDK IF I WANNA SMOOCH OR NOT YET I JUST KNOW I LOB HIM HE GOODEST BESTEST BOY 💛💛💛😭

If all three Savannaclaw bois got in a cuddle pile with me, I would Not Be Mad

How can I give this boy love, tell me and I will Do It

Gift him all the cacti’s he WANTS💛

God he drinks that respecc women juice bright and early on his run every morning, you KNOW he does 💛💛💛

I wawnt to pet his ears an tail an fwuffy wolf form 😭

I WAWNT TO SEE THE BOY SMILE AND BE HAPPY 💞💞💞

Sebek

CHILL CHILL CHILL CHILL CH-

He is a v devoted guard tho, we love to see it UvU

I don’t have more info on him hekdhskdj but his fanmade content seems v v sweet~ 💚

Silver

HE ATTRACTS BIRDS AND I CRY ABOUT IT PLEASE BE MY FRIEND AND TEACH ME HOW 🥺🥺🥺

Him being raised by Lilia and Malleus literally gives me so much Fucking Seratonin....... God 💞💕💗💗💞💞💗💗💕💞

Ortho

IS BABY????? IS BABY!!!!!! I’M LOVE HIM I’M ADOPTING HIM IS BABYYYYYYY 💙💙💙💙💙

Cheka:

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

He is so FUCKING CUTE what the FUCK!

Leonaaaaaaa... 🥺 Your NEPHEWWWWW 😭

I might steal him from Farrena tbh, lIKE MY CHILD NOW~ 🧡🧡

I just sob and hug him every time I see him honestly 😭

Teachers:

Dire Crowley

Ohhhhhh god oh god oh god

Be my dad. Please. Be my dad. PLEASE be my dad. Ya’ll think I’m joking, I’m not. Please adopt me. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

This man as a father gives me so much dopamine and oxytocin and seratonin??? I have been weeping for WEEKS, please adopt me, Sir

Fathers with zero braincells being wrapped around a daughter’s little finger makes me so weak, and I am just here with Daddy Issues like ajdhakdhsj BLEASE ADOPT ME MISTER BIRD MAN

Crewel

Ew.

Forgive me, I haven’t seen much content with him in it/that could be considered wholesome, bUT JADHWKDJSJ

UncoMFORTABLE

Please keep the kink talk out of the classroom, S I R

Call me puppy one more time, see what happens, I’m not scared to fight a teacher akdhakdhsj

Trein

The Dad Figure that tries to be the stern part to Crowley’s blumbering kahdkqrhsjdj

Don’t feel as much attachment to him emotionally, but I like him~

Just let me pet your cat sometimes and give you holiday presents, and we’re cool~ ♥️

Vargas

Found the womanizer //SMACKED

And of course, I can’t forget Grim~!

He’s grown on me, and if anything happens to him I will kill everyone in the room, and then myself 😭

I will pet and snuggle and hold him all he wants and feed him all the tuna his heart desires uvu 💙

[transsergio]

Emotions That I Simply Do Not Have (Read on AO3)

Chapter 2 - I'm Not Gonna Repeat Myself Chapter 1 - More Like A Relapse

Penemily + Hotchreid / Mature / 1747 words in this chapter

As Emily and Penelope grow closer, Hotch becomes more desperate.

Three months. It’s been three months of Penelope in Emily’s apartment, Emily in Penelope’s, of spending every second that they can together. Emily is having a hard time calling Penelope everything but baby in the middle of an investigation, and Penelope’s flirting has grown stiff.

“Why could you say all that stuff before but not now?” Emily asks one night, two glasses of sparkling cider on the coffee table before them. They’re sitting at opposite ends of the couch with their legs entangled.

Penelope rolls her eyes. “I mean, I could, but it feels weird! Like, I flirt with Derek, but that’s just banter between two very, very sexy friends. It’d be like…saying you’re the same.”

“The same as Derek? I hope so. He sees a lot of action,” Emily teases. Penelope kicks her lightly, with love.

“You think you’re so cute, huh? No, not like that. You’re special, and I don’t want to cheapen what we have.”

And Emily crawled her way up Penelope to kiss her.

Still, the team was perceptive. They were picking up on the energy shift between them and pretending not to notice. Emily figured a talk was coming sooner or later, probably led by Rossi. The only one who seemed oblivious was Hotch.

That may have had to do with the texts he continued to send. They were cracked windows into his life post-Haley, and Emily hadn’t responded to most of them. She had no idea what to say, or how to reject a widow, if she was even allowed? And they kept coming in. “Seeing a movie with Jack. Phone will be off,” and “Good morning,” when they were already at their separate desks, and “Our hands touched when you passed files yesterday. Intentional?” and “Do you like champagne?” They buzzed over and over, like a form of slow torture.

The last one, “Do you like champagne?” comes on one of Penelope’s nights at Emily’s. They’re lounging in her bed, Emily flicking through a magazine and Penelope stationed over an old lap desk as she paints her nails. Emily opens the message, sets it down, and tries not to think about it. She glances at Penelope.

“Pink and green?” Emily asks.

“Yeah. I’m embracing spring themes.” Penelope waves her careful manicure. White daisies are studded with a rhinestone overtop each finger. She wiggles them under Emily’s nose. “Blow.”

“Excuse me?” Emily laughs.

“Blow,” Penelope repeats, raising her eyebrows and looking between her girlfriend and her nails. “They’re not dry yet.”

Emily sighs and lowers her magazine. “Anything for you, princess.” She delights in Penelope’s big, perfect smile, and blows a steady stream of air over her work.

“Is that enough?” Emily tugs at Penelope’s wrist so she can kiss the back of her hand. “Penelope?”

Penelope’s gaze is far adrift, and she startles back to the present. “Sorry, I just… I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“I love you.” Penelope declares it with a certainty, a finality, like she’s made her choice.

When Emily freezes in place, Penelope’s hand still in hers, Penelope tacks on, “I know it’s soon. You don’t have to say it. But I know I love you, and back then you said we don’t know how long we have, so I figured I should say it sooner, not later. Are you okay? Em?”

“Uh, yeah,” Emily nods. She lets Penelope go. “Sorry, I have something in my eye.”

Penelope looks at her. She knows better. “Are you crying, Em?”

“Maybe. Shut up.”

They burst into a fit of giggles, and Emily clamors for Penelope. “I love you too,” she says, and takes Penelope’s face in her hands. She memorizes every detail, every crease, every bit of Penelope as she holds her whole world. “I love you so much.”

Before they can take another breath, someone pounds on Emily’s door. Emily wipes her face clean and adjusts her sweatshirt. “I’ll get it. Be- be right back. Stay.”

Penelope smiles through her watering eyes. “Aye aye, captain.”

And Emily swears up and down that this better be good and not some kid on her floor playing ding-dong ditch, or she’ll have to call the building manager and tell them all about how her girlfriend loves her, she actually loves her when Emily loves her too, and these kids interrupted –

“Hotch?”

Fuck. Emily should’ve looked through the peephole. But Penelope loves her, so she forgot.

“Prentiss. May I come in?” he asks. He doesn’t allow her to answer and barrels inside. Okay, so this is worse. If he sees Penelope, it’s over. They’ll have to tell Strauss, and internal affairs, and they could both lose their jobs. Emily herds him into the living room and puts the bedroom out of sight.

“What’s going on?” Emily asks. She crosses her arms over her chest and stands rigid.

Hotch is holding a bottle of wine. He’s wearing sweatpants and a college t-shirt, and he looks hazy. “I know you’ve gotten my texts. Your phone works, I’ve seen it. You answer calls from Garcia, Morgan, Reid – why not me?”

Emily frowns. “I answer you.”

“Do you? Because I asked you a question tonight and still haven’t received a response.”

Emily clarifies, “I answer you when we’re working. I told you. What happened, happened, and I don’t want to do it again.”

Hotch wavers, not in his position, but to the point that he lands on Emily’s couch. His cheeks are bright red. “That’s what was said. But what about the signals you’ve been sending?”

Emily scoffs. “Signals, really? What signals?”

Hotch clinks the bottle onto Emily’s table. He passes over the room’s low lighting, seeming to take in that Emily only has a few lamps and her vanilla candles lit. He makes Emily wait for his answer. “You – you’ve protected me. And you realized I was gone when Foyet came. You care about me, Emily, and you proved it the night we had sex.”

“I was drunk and in a low place. That’s all it was.”

“I don’t believe you,” Hotch says, quiet. His head is bowed, and his elbows rest on his knees as he hunches over. “Haley and I never felt like that.”

“Maybe because you’ve only slept with one person since high school? And, honestly Hotch, you’re not my type. I think you experienced something new and made it more than it was.”

He looks up at her through the dark flop of his hair. “If you honestly have no feelings for me, tell me and I’ll be g—”

“I have no feelings for you.”

Hotch sighs. “You’re not going to let me finish that sentence, are you?”

Emily shakes her head. “I already know the answer.”

He leaves the wine as he stands, and hesitates in the threshold. “You’re good at your job, Prentiss. This won’t impact your position.”

“I didn’t think it would.” Emily purses her lips.

Hotch gives her a curt nod, and the door shuts silently behind him. Which would’ve been the end of it if Emily didn’t have thin walls and good hearing. The sound of someone slumping down the hall, curling into a fetal position, and trying to stifle his weeping permeates her apartment. It tugs Emily towards the doorknob, to comforting her co-worker who she admired before they shared pathetic sex.

Penelope comes to her side, still gingerly avoiding the use of her fingernails. “You and Hotch?”

Emily turns to Penelope, wide-eyed. “I, yeah, once. I was blackout drunk. I don’t remember it, I swear.”

“No, I heard. It’s okay. We hadn’t done anything yet anyway, right?”

“Not…particularly?”

“Oh no, no, no. Elaborate. Now.” Penelope insists. Emily keeps herself moving about the kitchen, making tea while she explains. She tells the whole story, including the way Penelope has always made her feel, how she hated Kevin but he seemed to make her happy, the crush she harbored for years, and the realization that Penelope was never going to return the sentiment. That Penelope didn’t have what she felt. That Penelope went to bed early that night with her boyfriend by her side, who got to make her breakfast and see her with her bedhead and know what she was like before she entered the building and binge reality shows with her late at night when she’d already left the team where they were. And Emily, evidently, lost it.

“Hotch offered me a ride back. He was tipsy, of course, so he called a cab for us. I woke up naked and he was making breakfast.” Emily says. She sips at her mug, though the drink’s gone cold by now.

Penelope waits. “And?”

“And,” Emily tenses, “I was disgusted. It was one of the worst mistakes of my life. I thought about it, and I realized I was trying to punish myself for something. For being too much of a coward to ask you out in the first place, I guess. I had plenty of time before Kevin got there. I could have tried, but I didn’t. That’s when…”

“When you came into my cave,” Penelope finishes. She traces one of the rings stained into Emily’s kitchen table. Emily wants to let her process, to think, but the terror overrides her patience.

“Are you mad?” she asks.

Penelope’s eyes are loving, but wilted. “No,” she says. “I’m sad that I made you feel like that. Before you say it’s not my fault, I get it, but still. Because I liked you too, and I liked being your friend, and I didn’t want to jeopardize us on the slight chance that you were straight as an arrow. Which you should really work on if you want our private life to stay private. You’re like, the gayest agent I’ve ever met.”

Emily snorts. “Thanks, I’ll try.”

Penelope draws Emily’s hands into hers. It’s been long enough that her fingers aren’t even tacky anymore. “I think you might’ve been punishing yourself for something else, too. Maybe you were mad about why you couldn’t have me?”

“…Yeah. Yeah, there’s that.” Emily drags her chair closer to Penelope’s. She leans her cheek against Penelope’s shoulder, and allows Penelope to lay an arm around her back. Emily says, “I would’ve had hurt, angry sex with someone regardless, but the Catholic guilt didn’t help.”

Penelope rests her chin on the top of Emily’s head. Their breathing becomes inseparable. “You know I still love you.”

“I know.” Emily worms her way closer, practically into Penelope’s lap. She doesn’t hear crying anymore.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-05-19

Figured an upd8 was coming, it’s felt like enough time has passed for one.

Huh, looking at my last post I’d completely forgotten I was supposed to play through Pesterquest sometime... work is busy and stressing me out a bit, I’m not sure when I’ll have the energy on the side to do that.  (Maybe I’ll livetweet it like I did Undertale a while ago, but this time not looking at my twitter replies so I don’t get spoiled by One Guy™?)

Also, including bonus commentary on A Threat Sensed.

Okay, going in completely blind.  I’d guessed from context that we’re hopping over to Meat side to get a chapter there before we can come back to actually see Yiffy?

Yep.  Okay, what is this about exactly?

(Agh, dammit, I’ve been copying and pasting so much at work remoting into Windows lately that now I’m automatically trying to hit control-C instead of command-C to copy.)

> CHAPTER 9. How Goes The Eulogizing, Dear?

CONTENT NOTE: This chapter contains Child Abuse.

Which one???

Wait

JANE: (Where is he?) JANE: (It's a question I've found myself asking many times in recent days.)

Holy SHIT we get two Candy chapters in a row???  So we might see her right away??  No, it’s gotta just be another tiny glimpse.

(Has two Candy chapters in a row happened before?  Future Boots, scroll back up and put this here. FUTURE BOOTS: “I forgot to scroll back up and put that here.” EDIT: Also, not the first time with two in a row, but it IS the first time with THREE in a row, huh.)

So Jane has to be talking about either Tavros or Dave.  --Oh, if this was a Candy Side chapter title, I guess Rose or Jade is eulogizing Dave for John?

> (==>)

JANE: (Where now is our merry savior?) JANE: (Where is the horn that was honking?) JANE: (Where is the cape and the codpiece, and the...) JANE: (The...) JANE: (Oh, fiddlesticks.)

What?  Is she reading a childrens’ book?  --Oh.  She’s eulogizing Gamzee.  So that gives us a third option, where the rebellion crashes the funeral somehow, probably audiovisually rather than in person.  (Which would make sense, given Candy practically began with Gamzee crashing Dirk’s funeral.)

> (==>)

Ah never mind, she’s still writing it.

That sure is a single button drama-remote that’s going to be pressed at some point.  Oh, and who the fuck keeps a spork in a pen cup???  --No no, don’t say it’s one of those pens with a spork at the eraser end, either ready-made or rubber-banded to the side.  That would make sense.  You totally know it isn’t that and is just a spork.

JANE: (Okay, poetry is out.) JANE: (What else?) JANE: (Hrm...) JANE: (I've always been pretty good at crying on cue.) JANE: (Could I try staging an emotional breakdown?) JANE: (That could work; playing to people's humanity.)

Why were you crying in Jake’s arms about his death if you didn’t care that much?  Did you just want him to hold you and kinda make him feel in on things again?  Or did you just cry yourself out about him?

JANE: (Or whatever is the more inclusive term.)

I bet the rest of Earth C figured out a more inclusive term millenia ago FUCK I accidentally added millennia to my dictionary misspelled instead of correcting it hold on--

...There, killed the entry for it.  ...Huh.  Take a look at my Chrome dictionary’s custom-added words over the years, apparently:

Caliborn Eridan Kanaya Matriorb Meenah Tavros alchemiter dichotomic nephilim reblogged uncaptchalogues uncaptchaloguing

That’s fun.

Okay back to reading. Millennia.  Phew!  Where was I.

JANE: (One really good and calculated weep could do it, I think.) JANE: (But then there's the danger that I might get carried away and do it for real.) JANE: (And I can't risk that.)

So still feeling something, just too used to calculating over the past years.

JANE: (What can I say about him that will stir up their emotions?) JANE: (Do I mention the stuff about the milk?) JANE: (Think Crocker, think.)

WHY would you-- how much did Gamzee normalize adult breastfeeding?!

JAKE: Ahoy over there!

Not the best time.

(The thing with the divorce papers from the Epilogue and John implying he was planning with Jake to execute something that sounds like a divorce... is that going to be sprung here?  Did her lawyers send the divorce papers way back when she was in a fit of pique, and he just had them available to sign now at the tactical moment? Or... let me pull the exact text...)

JOHN: now, harry anderson, i know that you and tavros haven't always gotten along. JOHN: but i am going to have to ask you to try and look out for him for the time being. JOHN: your uncle jake and i... well, i'll explain later. JOHN: let's just say that gamzee isn't the only family member jane is losing today.

(So is John going to submit the papers? Or did they already go through a while ago and default custody to John or something who’s going to adopt him too or some nonsense?  And did he plan this out with Jake NOW, or a while ago, and if only a while ago, is Jake going to KNOW whatever John’s about to pull in that respect is about to happen??)

> (==>)

Butte

Janepalme

> (==>)

JAKE: Er... how goes the eulogizing, dear?

Gah.  I completely forgot again that capitalized-first-letter chapter names don’t mean KANAYA is saying them.  That probably makes a lot more sense out of my wondering about the chapter title earlier to those of you who didn’t realize I was making that mistake.

JANE: It turns out that it's mighty difficult to find touching things to say about a person, the relationship with whom was predicated on deep-seated mutual loathing.

Hah!

--A loathing you regarded as largely more important to you than Jake ever was, by the way.  You asshole.

JANE: I imagine this is one of the reasons no funerary tradition was ever established on Alternia, besides the barbarism of their culture. DIRK: Jesus christ. JANE: Not only did a significant proportion of their interpersonality depend on romance in the form of hatred, but it was a society based on cruelty and violence. JANE: What reason could they have had to provide for the dead? JANE: What kind of last rites could they have even imagined?

I wondered for a moment why (bg!)Dirk of all people would react to a single line of her starting to bring up prejudices, but then I realized that (1) Brain Ghost Dirk is a little more Jakey, and (2) Dirk knew that more ranting would follow the first line.

JANE: I can't think of anything good to write about him because deep down, I hated his guts. JANE: But he was and is beloved of the multitude, so I have to think of something regardless. JAKE: Im not sure i understand. JANE: Don't worry your pretty little head about it. JANE: This is politics, Jakey. JANE: Lying through your two front teeth about people you hate is about as good a definition as it's possible to get. JANE: But, by gum, is it tiring work.

Mm.  It’s a position Jane put herself in, but it’s still a legitimate position once you’re there.

JANE: The funeral is tomorrow, after all.

Got it.

DIRK: Dude, the bowl. JAKE: Hm? JAKE: Oh, right. JANE: What is it now, Jake. JAKE: I brought something for our guest as well. JANE: You mean the prisoner. JAKE: Y...es.

Wait, bowl?

Oh god damnit which of you had the idea to feed her with a DOG BOWL.  Either of you could have thought of it, and either of you would be horrible for it.

> (==>)

Huh, that outfit on Yiffy looks familiar, like a reference to something.  And a black tail?  This definitely isn’t quite the look I was expecting from Jade Plus Rose, but I suppose the snazzy tie is a Roseish vibe.  Also reminiscent of Jade’s old Dead Shuffle dress.  Formal wear and soccer cleats??

JANE: She's over in the corner. JANE: Don't worry, she won't bite. JANE: I've seen to that already.

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN.  I don’t see anything over her mouth!  Did she stick something in it, or drug her?  File her fucking teeth???

I mean I did forget the Child Abuse trigger warning to be fair.  Hoping whatever would be on her mouth is just not shown in-panel yet for stylistic reasons.

> (==>)

JAKE: Its only mac and cheese, sorry. JAKE: Its all I know how to make, haha. JAKE: ... JAKE: I um... hope you can safely partake of cheese? JAKE: ... JAKE: Well, JAKE: Bon appetit.

How the fuck did Jake eat on his island then?  --Oh right, preserved food cans that Grandma Jade stored up, I think I remember.  Why would cheese not be a thing for them, if it’s fine for Jade?  I know he’s probably not just worried about lactose intolerance.

Either way, if she’s drugged here, that’ll mean we won’t get a good idea of her for a while, so which is it...

> (==>)

DIRK: Bon appetit. DIRK: Seriously dude? JAKE: (What? Did i pronounce it wrong?) DIRK: Jake. DIRK: You put the food in a fucking dog bowl. JAKE: (It was all there was, ok???) JAKE: (I feel awful enough as it is without you getting on my case about it.)

Ah, missed the bone pun.  AND, yeah, Jake, you’re a fucking idiot, you could have put it in a cup or something.

JAKE: (So far ive yet to see anything come of that brilliant plan of yours.) JAKE: (Are you sure sending that message to the others was enough?)

Okay, so he IS coordinating this slightly.

> (==>)

Horrifying image to contemplate, eh Jane?

Or anger-inducing?

> (==>)

Seems about right!

> (==>)

Oh that’s a GREAT exasperated Jane face.

JANE: I hope you're not expecting dessert, young lady.

I like how Jane didn’t notice, comment on, or care about the bowl.  How can you hate a kid so much??

> (==>)

Oh I know why I felt like I recognized the outfit style, it’s because it’s ANIME AS FUCK.  Feels like some Persona 4 Arena nonsense, and I say that not having played any of those games or even remembering what they looked like.  Also, white hair, black fur’d dog parts?  Nice change of pace.

YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR... JANE: Oh no you don't.

Red text?  What color exactly... “#D00009”?  Huh.  That’s nowhere near Alt-Callie’s #FF0000, and darker than Dave’s #E00707.  In fact, let me go back and check those spilled color pins the commentary pointed out from an update or two ago...  no, the red pin is #E63225, closer to Dave’s color.  (Also, is Yiffy blocking the doorway out?  That’s a pretty slack chain then.)

Did Jane see to it that she wouldn’t bite with like, a water spray bottle?

(EDIT: Oh my FUCKING GOD, THAT's why it's #D00009...)

> (==>)

FUCK I didn’t notice the shock collar in the Yiffy image!  FUCK YOU, Jane.

> (==>)

Keeping someone in line with collars, especially ones that punish whenever one strays out of line, has always been a decent way for her to mix in some Doomy control of others to show how she’s “grown” to balance her main role and her Tiara-controlled-like inverse for more power.  Doom in part represents boundaries that you can’t cross without getting hurt or punished.

> (==>)

FUCK, those little buck teeth!?  D’:

JANE: That's more like it.

She HAS to have more of a reason for hating her than hating her parents, right?  Like, more than that and general racism applying to partdogfolk?

> (==>)

Hey fuck off with that!

> (==>)

This is a pretty cool ima-- are those piercings on her dog ear?  I didn’t notice that in the first shot, neat.

JANE: You've been a thorn in my side ever since I agreed to enroll you at the academy, little madam. JANE: Back then, I was doing a favor for two old friends who made a disgusting mistake. JANE: I'm no longer going to play nice with you just because of your parents, however. JANE: That truce is over. JANE: Do I make myself understood?

What the fuck?  WHY would you do that?  Why does Jane run "Ms. Paint’s Home for Inconvenient Girls”?  What did Yiffy do to piss her off so much there, how much trouble could she have caused?

I don’t know if she’s referring to the behind-Kanaya’s-back part as disgusting or she’s just being MORE racist.

> (==>)

JANE: We don't want you passing out during the ceremony, do we?

Oh, just showing the hostage off during the clown funeral, huh?  Classy much?

> (==>)

JANE: Now, be a good hostage and get some rest, Yiffany dear. JANE: We've got a big day tomorrow.

For a politician, Jane’s not good at looking at herself in a mirror.

> (==>)

JANE: Night night. JANE: Hoo hoo.

> (Yiffy: Lights out.)

Huh, dream stuff is gonna be relevant out in Candy then? *click*

Okay, dark background all of a sudden.  Properly dramatic?  You even have to highlight the non-link “>” part of the Next link to see it.

> (==>)

-- thespiansGlamor [TG] began pestering adamantGriftress [AG] --

Well, I don’t know WHY it’s happening, but the white-backed pesterlog suddenly on the dark site framing is certainly evocative.  Of like, a mood, or something.

TG: i thought he was pretty quiet down there. TG: we'll make a rebel of him yet! AG: Lol. AG: I think it's more that he can't sleep. AG: I know how he feels. TG: yeah. TG: today was a lot. AG: ... TG: do you wanna talk about it? AG: Ugh, not you as well.

It’s really jarring to transition between Homestuck’s “kids jarringly mentally resistant to freaking out about the end of the world” to HS^2′s more realistic “kids traumatized by their first firefight even though it was an overwhelming victory-escape”.

TG: but seriously, do you? AG: Not really. TG: not even about... you know? TG: her? AG: No. TG: ... are you sure? AG: A8solutely. AG: What are you, my moirail? AG: Just leave it, Harry. TG: ok.

Are they about to have an “I wonder what Yiffy’s like” talk?

> (==>)

Very similar Tav/Vrissy convo to the previous one.

GG: I havent ever shared a bedroom before,,, GG: Not even for a slumber party,,, AG: Tavvy, you are just a8out the saddest person I've ever met.

Well, we have an even better idea how horrible Jane can be with kids, now.  From Nanna to THIS is quite jarring.  I wonder how the double Nannasprites that must still be around here somewhere feel?

> (==>)

TG: nothing about my dad is cute. TG: what are you even saying. AG: Lmao. TG: seriously! TG: i think he has something against that word, even. he gets super weird about it. AG: He's a strange and funny m8n. TG: yeah. TG: ... TG: i think something bad must have happened.

...um.  What?  Why would John have some sort of trauma about the word cute or being called it?

Did John dress up as a hint of his buried June ambitions as a kid and Dad lavish him with “SO CUTE” praise in an epic supportiveness backfire that caused him to shelve the idea of wearing non-masc clothes and being happier on the flipside of gender ever again???  Because if that’s how June gets canonized as promised, it’s a little harsher than the back of my mind was hoping.  I guess it kind of had to be though from the premise of how it was read into his childhood for the original idea, though.  Fuck, I hope this Cute business is about something different from that (like a Terezi reference or such) just to get less John Sads.  (But still June.  Definitely still want to get June.)

> (==>)

Oh, and now Vrissy is doing nothing but talking about what she said she didn’t want to talk about, of course.  (Also I like how JANE’s now being called the Batterwitch.)

AG: And the worst part was they didn't even fight a8out it! AG: That made me madder than 8nything else. AG: It felt like I was the only person who even W8S mad! GG: I dont think thats true,,, AG: What would you know a8out it?! GG: Maybe nothing,,, GG: Sorry,,, GG: Its just,,, GG: To me,,, all the way through the conversation,,, aunt kanaya looked even angrier than you,,, AG: ... AG: Adults are so fucking weird.

Guh, I don’t want to be reminded how hurt a good chunk of the fanbase is by Kanaya getting hurt this badly.

Original Tavros was always SLIGHTLY perceptive of others sometimes, but maybe perceptiveness is being hinted at as a Tavros specialty?  We still don’t know his classpect/hero-title or have any firm guesses based on purely him evidence.  (Also, frightened kids of abusive households tend to learn to get perceptive pretty fucking quickly I hear.)

> (==>)

TG: dad was sitting in the cafeteria with aunt jade and your moms. TG: it looked like they were discussing something important... they were whispering and stuff.

[etc etc] Alright, the what-happened-to-Dave bit.  And I imagine they’re kind of helping John grieve there, since Rose and Jade have talked that out already.

TG: aunt kanaya's was the only face i could see. TG: she was standing next to them, but she wasn't looking at what was going on. TG: almost like she couldn't bear to. AG: I doubt it. Kanaya's got a8out as much Emotivity as a very reclusive stone. TG: ok, i think that is bullshit but whatever. TG: she saw me standing there, but didn't say anything. she just shook her head slightly, and pointed back out into the hallway i came down.

Yep, giving them some space to grieve.  Also-- gosh, shouldn’t Vrissy have the same emotive senses that Aranea implied Vriska shared with her?  Kanaya isn’t that EXPRESSIVE but she’s certainly full of emotion.  Also, I hope part of her not bearing to watch wasn’t lingering anger toward Jade and Rose mixing with that, but there probably was a bit of that too, though Dave being gone is so much harsher than that. --I just realized they might not have broken the news to Karkat yet, either.

AG: I guesadxcxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz TG: vrissy?

Put to sleep by someone slumping down on your phone keypad, or surprised by something about the other conversation?

Oh shit, “other conversation” reminded me I didn’t look at Tavros’s chumhandle:

glutinousGymnast [GG]

HHHHHhhhhuh.  Hm... huh? hhhh.  huh?  what, but.  Why would.  ?????

I really don’t understand what that chumhandle or any of its entendres should signify in this context.

Also, this means for our new four kids we have TG, GG, AG, and ??.

> (==>)

GG: I think she might have succumbed to sleep quite suddenly,,, GG: It would explain the,,,,,, interesting messages I've been getting for a while,,, TG: hehe. TG: i guess that tracks. TG: she does that from time to time.

That’s... strange.  Homestuck’s taught us to be suspicious of that.

TG: ... TG: tav? GG: Yes,,, harry anderson,,,? TG: what does it feel like to know someone who's died?

Who is Harry referring to? (EDIT: Yes I know Gamzee for Tavros, but I meant Harry talks like he's worried he'll have to feel that way soon?)  Is he just kind of inferring that something bad might have happened to Uncle Dave?  Got that perceptive “parents are about to tell me about a death in the family” vibe?  Or did he overhear more than he let on to Vrissy?

...alright, that’s the last page of this update.  Looks like this chapter is going to continue to have a good bunch of grieving, or talk around it.

---

Now for Bonus Commentary for A Threat, Sensed.  For some reason I have a dim memory of like... reading this myself without commenting on it?  Or skimming it?  But I’m pretty sure I didn’t do that.  Weird.  Must have imagined doing it.

Ah, I think I saw the opening paragraph scrolling Patreon, and my mind kinda filled in the blanks, this is still looking new to me.

Okay, mostly banter and japes in the commentary here.  About Dirk “throwing a huge tantrum in his philosophy cave”.

We’ve had quite a bit of speculation on whether this is “really” Andrew. To that, I think we’d say that it doesn’t “really” matter.

Really?  That was speculated about?  :/

Here we discover that Dirk has not, as some people have speculated, been directly intervening into the Candy timeline, or influencing it in any way. In fact, he has a very hard time seeing anything going on there at all.

Mhmm, and that was a pretty important thing to learn.

A couple of years ago I might have agreed with the take that everything happening in Candy is simply too outlandish to ever happen naturally, without direct, villainous interference, but that was before literally every fucking batshit insane thing that has happened on Real Life Earth started going down, and now I will believe literally anything. 

This is a nice bit of distraction from the idea that at least the opening parts of the Candy story were written/narrated by Original, Alive Calliope over on meat side.  To refresh your memory of what was pointed out to me:

ROXY: back when jade first got all effed up callie saw somethin and it made them freak out ROXY: it took me weeks to convince them that it was safe to come home ROXY: but now we got the opposite problem and they arent leavin the house at all ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls TEREZI: WH4T? ROXY: its not as bad as it sounds i promise ROXY: some of it is like ROXY: weird and violent?? ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um ROXY: nudity???? TEREZI: >:? ROXY: yeah yikes ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit ROXY: anyway thats kept callie kinda busy

Which tracks with the initial out-of-character-seemingness of almost everyone at the start of Candy, and how they kind of tried to railroad things back onto the “Happy??” track after Dirk derailed it with his weird self-accumulation suicide, along with some of the flowery-idyllic descriptions of characters seeing each other bathed in a halo of light and such.

Of course, they’re not going to out-and-out STATE that Calliope was at fault for that narration, helping the Candy story not necessarily fall out the way it did “naturally”, until we finally get a glimpse of her on the heroes’ ship in Meat probably still painting the continuing Candy events, inspiring them into the void of the singularity with her latent powers.  Til then, it’s a bit of misdirection whenever the topic is to be brought up.  Along with a mix of Roxy’s late-Candy point to John of more or less “why COULDN’T we have done this naturally? you don’t know”.

He might even think that he has more direct power over the narrative than Hussie does himself. Surprise, motherfucker, you are a fictional character. 

:p

I’ll quote this next part in full:

There’s been talk of whether or not this bonus was written in the two days between its release and the Yiffy reveal chapter. The answer is--no. It was written over a month ago. But I think the things it addresses were not difficult to suss out. Obviously, Dirk is highlighting the issues that the readership are having with Yiffy, in his typical Dirk fashion. If it seems a little defensive, well...I suppose it is. Yiffy is one of the two hard lines drawn in the sand, and all of us love her, and we’re hoping that everyone else will love her too. But more than that, it focuses on the fact that update culture has a rhythm to it--shock, revulsion, acceptance (or not), and then excitement (or not). Will it follow that pattern this time? Who knows. I guess we’ll find out. 

Yeah, given what was going to be dropped on us I expected they would have had exactly this lined up, especially because Andrew specifically mandated Yiffy.  --I wonder why they aren’t mentioning that somewhere in the commentary and only on one of their Twitters?

Also quoting this:

There’s something both incredibly “cringe” and self-indulgent, as well as philosophically intriguing, about the author arguing with his villain, especially since he’s writing both halves of the conversation himself. You are, for all intents and purposes, trying to solve a problem that you have created for yourself. You are looking an aspect of your personality in the eye and asking, hey, what the fuck, man?

But in the end, isn’t that what every story is? Trying to untie knots that you put in the rope yourself?

Since it’s part of the central struggle of this story, and kind of the question Andrew’s tried to imply with every Homestuck work about what right we have to keep these characters trapped in a story, and if they’d be better off escaping it.

I’m really trying to avoid quoting so much of this, since the commentary is paid...  but I think we can make an exception here?  I’ll have only quoted about half of it; just, the really plot-important half.  Plus, I left out a LOOOT of japes.

Dirk has a certain idea of how stories are supposed to go. That’s pretty much what the Epilogues is about. The audience also has a certain expectation of how a story is supposed to go. In a way, the Epilogues were also about that. They were taking a story that had reached the traditionally “acceptable” happily ever after, and saying, wait, no. What happens next? Thinking past happily ever after in any story is a terrifying prospect. Once Cinderella marries the prince, what then? Sure, she got what she wanted, but who knows that it will be everything she dreamt it would? What if she changes her mind, if not today, what about ten years from now? What if the prince dies of malaria? 

And I’m...

Yeah I don’t have anything else to add here, I’m kind of out of brain juice to think about this tonight.  BUSY day I had.  Y’all take care!

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of Black Lives Matter, @manawhaat donated $10, and requested Sam Wilson, thinking about BLM. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

Their training compound’s in Kansas, of all places. “Isn’t Superman from Kansas?” Bucky had said, quiet, when they got there, and Sam had fully turned around in the van and said, “Hang on, how do you know about Superman?” and Bucky had given him a rare spark of actual personality and said, “I’m from the ‘40s, not the 1840s,” and Sam had rolled his eyes but responded that, yes, Superman allegedly grew up in Kansas. Problem was that Superman wasn’t real. He just hung out in the comics and he had it easy, beacon of light and apple pie and the American Way, and Sam--shiny star on his shield or no--Sam was just... Sam. As for the American Way--

Bucky doesn’t seem to care. Then again, Bucky doesn’t seem to care about much. “Do it again,” he says, squinting. Sam takes a breath, takes the shield heavy in both hands. Vibranium’s as breathtakingly light as it is strong, but still, tossing a massive hunk of it around like a fancy frisbee has been taking some getting used to. He sights the target, how Bucky’s aiming his shot, and throws--and it hits mostly on-center on the first target, bounces a little off on the second, and then--shit, goes wild, and Bucky jumps and catches it with his vibranium hand, a gonging sound resonating through the practice gym.

“Damn it,” Sam sighs.

Bucky shrugs one shoulder. “Better,” he says. Economical with words, this guy. “You’ll get there.”

Sam drags a hand over his head. “You’re there now,” he says, and it’s bitter like he tries not to let out. “Cap should’ve chosen you.”

Bucky tosses the shield back to him, easy throw, and Sam catches it by the handles. “You’re Cap,” he says. Flat but steady. He nods at the shield. “It fits.”

Sam rotates the shield in his hands, looking at the burnished front. That’s him, he thinks. Red, white, and blue.

It’s harder and harder, every day. To stay here. To train. “We have to be ready,” Bucky says, and Sam knows that. There’s so much that needs to be done he feels like the world’s drowning, but there’s T’Challa and Wanda and Scott and that spiderkid in New York, and they’re doing what they can. Sam’s been Falcon for years, and before that he was a soldier--he knows that someone coming in and fumblingly trying to help just tends to screw things up more than it helps. The country doesn’t need Falcon, right now--they need their Captain. It’s been drilled into him often enough and on his better days, he believes it.

These are not better days.

The compound’s in Kansas, miles from everything. With Pepper outfitting the place with the finest tech Stark Industries had to offer, they’re hyperconnected to the rest of the world despite the distance. Means that from the living area, sitting on his ass with his hands over his mouth, Sam can see live feed from every city in the country. Every news story. Every march. Every mama who lost her baby, weeping on the national news, asking why, why. Every kid, standing up with their mask on, raising the fist of pride high--getting a rubber bullet to the eye, a baton to the head, coughing in clouds of tear gas lit in the night by flares. He cried, the first time. He’s too wrung out to cry now.

“We should train,” Bucky says, somewhere behind him.

Sam closes his eyes. “Not now, man,” he says, and there’s quiet.

The news feed keeps going, brutal. At least thirty protesters have been arrested tonight in Birmingham, after defacing a Confederate memorial dedicated to--

“Mute the TV,” Bucky says, and the house obediently goes silent. StarkTech. The whole place, wired up and ultramodern and serving them every comfort, when all around the country--shit, the world, because there were those people standing with their eyes streaming in London, in Sao Paolo, in Dakar--they’re fighting. And he’s just--

“Sam,” Bucky says. Sam opens his eyes and finds Bucky there on the other side of the couch. His hair’s dragged back in a ponytail and he’s wearing a t-shirt and sweats, but even dressed down for training Sam can’t get away from how he looks--unearthly. Something about his eyes.

“The Avengers should be able to do something,” Sam says. That feeling in his chest--that forever feeling--being discounted, looked down on, spat on, fucked over--those years of looking over his shoulder, of smiling and playing polite--to be safe, and now he’s the safest bastard in the world, when he should be-- “We could go out there. We could protect those kids. Those--god, those old men. You think if we brought out the whole team, in D.C. or Seattle, those cops wouldn’t drop their weapons and run?”

“They probably would,” Bucky says. Even. “Would that do it?”

“It’d save some of them,” Sam says, and he knows it’s true. He also knows--he shakes his head. The Avengers... they weren’t built for this. Alien invasion, wormholes opening in the sky, world war--that’s their game. The superhero game. He leans forward, watching the silent footage on the television. “I could fly in there and snatch up one of those brutal cops, and you know what’d happen? His replacement would be in there the next day.”

“Systemic,” Bucky says. “Right?”

Sam snorts. They’ve been working on Bucky’s modern knowledge. “Yeah, that’s right,” Sam says, dropping his head. His shoulders hurt. His whole body, tense and aching as a bruise. “Systemic. Good vocab word.”

Bucky sits with him. Sam tries breathing. He was a counselor, he knows the techniques, but try as he might with slow exhales it just doesn’t work. It feels like a poison, trapped inside. “I’m supposed to be Captain America,” he says, finally. “Pepper’s gonna get me wings in red, white, and blue, and I’m gonna have a uniform with the stripes, and I’ve got the shield, and none of it matters, man. None of it. I’m just gonna be a symbol they put on t-shirts, and army recruiting posters, and cops are probably gonna have Cap hats on when they go out and--” He can’t finish the thought. It’s nauseating. He swallows. “And even--I mean, I thought, I’m a black man. I’m the enemy. So, I put on that uniform, are they just gonna say--oh, Cap’s just a PR stunt now, and discount everything we’re working for here? Or--will it be, oh, Cap, he’s great, he’s one of the good ones. He ain’t a thug like the rest. I won’t even be black anymore. I’ll be Captain America, and the rest of us will still be out there dying.”

The television goes to commercial. Mattresses. Apparently that’s the ad block that suits brutality. He says, “TV off,” and then it’s just the sleek, beautiful lounge, and the supersoldier assassin carved like a statue on the other couch, and Sam sitting there. The night outside feels like a prison.

“Steve never wanted to be Captain America,” Bucky says. He’s calm, his hands--one white, one black metal--laced at ease between his spread knees. “He just wanted to help people. He was nuts about it. Always picking fights bigger than he was.” Sam huffs, even if the weight’s still too hard to actually laugh. He’s seen the exhibit, in the Smithsonian. He knew the man. He can imagine. Bucky smiles--incredibly, even if it’s brief. “He told me later that he finally got it. What it meant. There were a lot of times he didn’t agree with what we were doing, as a country, or what we were ordered to do, or what people used his image for. But he realized eventually that Captain America didn’t work for any of them. He was meant to be a symbol of what we could be. What we hoped to be. What we had to work for.”

“A gorgeous white man with perfect blue eyes?” Sam says.

Bucky doesn’t roll his eyes, even if Sam’s being obtuse. “What do you think?”

Sam shakes his head. He looks at the shield, leaned up against the other chair where he dropped it, earlier. The star’s a little scuffed, from their training. “I think a country isn’t free until everyone in it is free,” he says. “And some things are going to have to break to achieve that freedom. And I’m not doing enough to help.”

Bucky nods. “TV on,” he says, and it’s still muted but the screens light up with news feeds. The crowds of kids, in black, pushing back against the riot gear. Medics in dirty t-shirts bandaging their friends. Umbrellas lifted above their heads, protecting themselves. “They’re fighting,” Bucky says, and Sam feels the heat rising up behind his eyes, watching. These kids. These fuckin’ kids.

“Sam,” Bucky says, and Sam looks at him, swallowing. “There’s a reason Cap holds a shield.”

Deep breath, in and out. “And you got my left?” Sam says, and Bucky shrugs, like, of course. Sam nods, watching the smoke rise. “Okay,” he says, and stands up. “Okay. Let’s go.”

[thearvariblues]

The Bard And The Wolf - Chapter Five

(AKA Geraskier in the Metal Band AU you didn’t know you needed)

AKA me desperately trying to catch up my Tumblr with what’s already been posted to AO3. ;) 

The masterpost for this fic can be found HERE.

5 – No Firstborns Needed

Even though the food Geralt had brought him certainly helped, it still took Jaskier a significant amount of time to recover from the hangover. He had to admit it to himself – he wasn’t getting any younger. There used to be times when he would drink all night and be completely alright in the morning…

Nah, that was a lie. His hangovers always used to be hell, but this was worse than ever.

He was mostly alright, though, when his phone rang in the afternoon.

He answered it without even looking at the screen.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“Uhm. Erm. Hi,” a girl’s voice replied. “This is… This is Ciri.”

“Ciri!” Jaskier beamed. “How are you? I was gonna call you, I swear, I wanted to thank you for sharing the video, and also for not telling on me to your dad… Oh, no, I mean, I probably shouldn’t be thanking you for lying to your father...”

“Didn’t lie to him. Just didn’t tell him,” Ciri said.

“That’s not making it any better,” Jaskier murmured. “Anyway! You were calling me for a reason, I guess?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to ask… Well, since you’re definitely staying, because the fans really love you, I… I mean… Would you like to go shopping with me?”

“Shopping?” Jaskier blinked. “Oh, you mean for some clothes to fit my new metal singer image?”

“Yes. I know all the good places. Mom takes me with her all the time. I know where they have the best T-shirts and pants and–”

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to go! Wait… Does your father know about it?”

“Does he have to?”

“Well, I’d like to stay alive, so yes, he kind of does.”

“Right. So I’ll… ask him and then call you back?”

“Perfect,” Jaskier smiled. “And what about Renfri? Is she coming too?”

“She said she’d rather cut off her right hand with a pocket knife.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“That’s definitely a no. Right, I’m gonna go and ask dad. Might take a few minutes, though. He’s working, and when he’s working, it takes him a while to start focusing on anything else.”

“That’ fine. Yeah. Right. See you soon. Well, hear you soon.”

“Bye, Jaskier.”

*

Geralt didn’t mind Ciri going with Jaskier. He even called Jaskier himself to tell him that. (And also to tell him that Ciri is allowed to buy something, too, within reason, and that he would give her his credit card, in case she wanted something she couldn’t afford to buy with her pocket money… Jaskier couldn’t help but think it was incredibly cute.)

So Jaskier went shopping with Ciri.

Two hours later, he had five large bags of clothes and his credit card was weeping silently in his wallet. Oh, dear, he would have to take some new students. At least two. Maybe even three. He didn’t want to, but he would have to.

Who’d have thought black clothes were so damn expensive?! (Except he absolutely didn’t buy only black clothes, quite the opposite, in fact.)

Right, right. So it might not have been absolutely necessary to buy those black leather pants and that leather jacket… But Jaskier had wanted a real leather jacket for a while, okay?

“So, am I now officially ready to take my place in the band?” he asked Ciri. He’d dropped the bags off at his flat and he and the girl were currently walking to Kaer Morhen’s rehearsal. Ciri was carrying a little bag with a black-and-purple striped dress that Jaskier wasn’t sure Geralt would approve of, but Jaskier definitely approved. It looked so good on the girl. It was stylish, but not revealing, a perfect dress for a kid her age…

“You’re more than ready,” Ciri said. “You look great.”

Oh, yes, so Jaskier had definitely found the time to change while he was at home. He was now wearing tight black pants, a dark purple T-shirt and a black brocade vest that, he had to admit, did wonders for his figure. His waist looked slimmer, his shoulders broader… Yeah, he looked great as hell.

“All thanks to you, mylady,” he grinned.

“Hush. You chose most of the clothes yourself. You just needed someone who would make you actually buy them. Like the coat.”

Oh, yes, the coat. The coat that was currently spread on his bed. The coat that had already managed to become one of Jaskier’s most prized possessions.

The beautiful, steel blue, double breasted, clearly Victorian era-inspired thing cost more than half of Jaskier’s monthly income, and it was love at first sight. He tried to be be strong, tried to resist, tried to remind himself that he was saving money so he could buy his own flat instead of renting it… But then Ciri saw him drooling at the coat and said: “Oh my God, you have to try it on!”

And so he did. And he was lost.

“It’s not exactly… what a metal singer should wear, is it? I mean, the color is so… light? Too light,” he had tried to protest, stroking the fabric lovingly.

“Don’t be silly. Female singers wear light colors all the time. Even mum did!”

“Mum?”

“Yennefer? Hello?”

“Yeah. Of course. Of course. Way to win the fans’ hearts, by pretending to be her.”

“Nobody’s gonna think you’re her, stupid. Buy it. I bet dad’s gonna love it. It’s one of his favorite colors.”

“I’ve never seen him wear anything but black.”

“I didn’t say his favorite to wear. He just… likes it.”

And it shouldn’t have been the last impulse Jaskier needed to buy the fucking thing, but it kind of was.

“I still think you should have bought the golden jacket, too.”

“Sorry, sweetie, but even the coat was a bit too much. The jacket? I could never afford that.”

That beautiful, gorgeous, amazing golden jacket with V-shaped stripes on the front. Oh, yes, he would kill for that beauty, but he wasn’t ready to eat dry rice for the next two months.

“Too bad. You looked beautiful in it.”

“I know, Ciri, I know,” Jaskier sighed.

They were nearly at the door. Nearly at the rehearsal room. But then Jaskier heard fast footsteps behind them and he (stupid, stupid, stupid!) decided to turn his head.

“Oh, hello,” said a voice Jaskier never wanted to hear again. “If it isn’t the useless wannabe singer! And who’s that? She’s a little too young to be your girlfriend, isn’t she?”

“Who the hell is he?” Ciri muttered.

“Valdo Marx,” Jaskier growled. “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say hello!” Valdo grinned a crooked grin. “I saw your video. Man, I’ve never seen something so ridiculous. Have you been kicked out, yet? You’d deserve to be kicked out for that shit!”

“Since there was no bitch around who would be horny for my place in the band… Nope, still in, sorry.”

“And what about that terrible song?” Valdo continued, as if Jaskier didn’t say anything. “Toss a coin to your whatever. I’m not surprised Dandelions had to get rid of you! Ugh, appalling.”

“Excuse me?!” Ciri exclaimed and took a step in Valdo’s direction.

“Ciri. No. He’s not worth it,” Jaskier said, stopping her. “Valdo. May I introduce you to Cirilla, Geralt’s daughter and a former fan of Dandelions, now a devoted fan of Kaer Morhen?”

“And a fan of Jaskier,” Ciri added.

“Geralt? As in the singer of Kaer Morhen?” Valdo snorted. “Oh, dear. You really did suck his cock, didn’t you? Since he’s borrowed you his daughter. Has he fucked you yet? You’ve always said he was a moron, I’m sure you’re really desperate for him to fuck you.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide, and this time he took a step towards the man.

“What did you say you bitch?!” he growled.

A hand grabbed his shoulder from behind.

Jaskier turned, kind of expecting to see Geralt there, but no. It was Lambert, a smirk on his lips and murder in his eyes.

“Relax, sweetie,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“And you are?” Valdo asked.

“Lambert. Funny you don’t remember me, because you spent weeks trying to get in my pants when you wanted to sleep your way into Kaer Morhen. I ruined it for you by being so annoyingly and boringly heterosexual. Don’t worry, though, even if I was gay, you’d stand no chance.”

“Burn, baby, burn,” Jaskier smirked.

“Now, Valdo,” Lambert continued, his smirk growing a little wider. “My friend Jaskier here might be ready to cut your throat, but I would never let him.”

“Thank… you?” Valdo blinked.

“And if Geralt heard you were mean to his beloved daughter, well… He’s a calm man, I mean, he tries to be. But I don’t think he would remain calm if he heard. You know what they say, demons run when a good man goes to war.”

“Hey. I understood that reference!” Jaskier blinked.

“Shush. I’m in the middle of threatening here,” Lambert said. “Valdo. Valdo, Valdo, Valdo. Trust me. You wouldn’t like what would happen if Geralt heard about this.”

Valdo visibly paled.

“He… he doesn’t need to know, does he?”

“No, no, of course not,” Lambert nodded. “But then again… There’s still me.”

“You?”

“Me,” Lambert grinned. “My dear Valdo. There’s one thing you need to understand about me. I am not a calm man, I am not a good man, but I am also not someone who would just simply cut your throat. No. If you show your ugly face near our rehearsal room again, I am going to rip off your cock, fuck you with it, and then use it to gag you while I cut you open and remove your organs in alphabetical order. Are we clear?”

Valdo’s face was completely void of blood now. All the guy was able to do was a single short nod.

“Good. I’m glad for that,” Lambert said. “Why are you still here, then?”

With all the dignity he had left (which was, well… none), Valdo Marx turned and power-walked away without another word.

“Wow. That was awesome!” Ciri beamed.

“I had it,” Jaskier growled, looking at Lambert.

“I know. You were absolutely ready to cut his throat. Or… throttle him,” Lambert shrugged. “But Geralt doesn’t like that. He always tells me, use your words first, there’s still time for stabbing later. So I do it. I threaten, and then, if it doesn’t help, I stab.”

“And do you… stab a lot?” Jaskier asked, fearing the answer.

“Nah,” Lambert grinned. “But fist fights and bar brawls, well… Those do tend to happen.”

“That’s a relief.”

“I bet. Everything alright, Ciri?”

“Absolutely,” the girl nodded.

“Now, Jaskier. Saw your video. Did you seriously call me a dick?”

“Well,” Jaskier smirked. “You are kind of a dick.”

“Guilty as charged,” Lambert grinned. “Let’s go in. Eskel hates it when we’re late.”

*

They weren’t late, but someone else was. Twenty minutes late, to be more precise. And that someone was Geralt.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said in reply to Eskel’s disapproving glance, closing the door behind him. “I was working, forgot time existed.”

“So… as usual?” Renfri smirked.

“Hush, Renfri,” Geralt glared. “It only happens once a month.”

“More like once a week,” Renfri replied.

“Thrice,” Ciri said.

“Did I ask for your opinions?” Geralt growled.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Jaskier peeped, raising his hand. “I don’t wanna sound like an idiot, really, but… What is it that you do? I mean… your job?”

“Oh, dad’s a blacksmith, and a jeweler!” Ciri announced. “He makes those cool iron monsters and wrought iron fences and amazing rings and necklaces and earrings. Look, he made me this!”

She showed Jaskier her necklace – a beautiful swallow made of silver.

“It’s lovely,” Jaskier smiled. “Wow. Really… Wow. Geralt, what do you want for making a cool necklace for me, too? I’m kind of broke now, I have to admit, but I could offer you my firstborn, if you wanted.”

“I’m kind of glad you asked,” Geralt said. “Because that’s precisely the work I got so lost in.”

“Excuse me?”

Geralt reached into his jacket pocket and took out a pendant on a silver chain.

“I made this pendant for every member of the band. A common symbol, you might call it. A white wolf. Well, a silver wolf, really.”

“Like in the logo of Kaer Morhen? Seriously?” Jaskier blinked.

“Seriously,” Geralt smiled. “And this one is yours.”

“Mine?!”

“You are the member of the band, aren’t you?” Geralt said, raising his eyebrow. “Consider this a welcome gift. No firstborns needed.”

Jaskier raised his hand to gently touch the pendant.

“You’re kidding, right? You gotta be kidding me. How many hours did you spend making that?!”

“Not as many as you probably think,” Geralt chuckled. “I mean it. Take it. It’s yours.”

“I… Thanks, Geralt,” Jaskier beamed and took the necklace from Geralt’s hand. “It’s beautiful. But now I’m realizing… Cirilla!”

“Wow. You sounded just like dad,” the girl said. “And yeah. I knew. That’s why I wouldn’t let you buy any kind of necklace. Sorry?”

“You should be ashamed for lying to me like that,” Jaskier smirked, fastening the necklace around his neck. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous as always,” Renfri smiled. “Welcome to the band, Jaskier. Officially.”

Eskel cleared his throat.

“Yeah, welcome. There are a few rules you need to know about before you start. Rule number one – if we say the rehearsal is starting at… let’s say seven...”

“And here we go,” Lambert smirked. “Relax, Eskel, we’ll begin in a minute. Jaskier! Have you, by chance, managed to finish that stupidly catchy song that’s been stuck in my head for… five hours now?”

“Toss A Coin?” Jaskier beamed. “Well, I have, actually! Turns out horrible hangovers are surprisingly inspirational. Would you like to hear?”

“Oh, yes!” Ciri said.

“Sure thing,” Renfri nodded. “Hey! We could even squeeze it into the setlist for the next gig! Try it out. See how people like it!”

“You think Geralt will be able to learn a song in a week?” Lambert smirked. “Ouch! That really hurt, Geralt!”

“I hope it did,” Geralt growled.

“You realize that you’re expecting me to learn several songs during the very same week?” Jaskier asked.

“Yeah, but you’re… clever,” Lambert smirked. “Ouch! Eskel, tell Geralt to stop hitting me!”

Eskel raised his drumstick.

“If you don’t stop talking so we can start, I’m gonna help him!”

“I feel very unloved right now,” Lambert muttered.

“You are very unloved right now, I think,” Renfri chuckled.

“Play us the song, Jask,” Geralt said. “Quick. I think Eskel is about to have a heart attack. Ow. Fuck you, Eskel, I’m on your side!”

“Shut up, then,” Eskel growled. “Jaskier. Take your guitar and fucking play.”

“You know, nobody ever told me playing in a metal band was so risky,” Jaskier said. “If I knew… No, no, no, don’t hit the poor bard! I’m playing, see? See? Now, how did it… Oh, yes. When a humble bard…”

“So unrealistic,” Lambert whispered, and Geralt chuckled.

“Poetic license,” he muttered.

Jaskier winked and kept on singing.

Oh, how he already loved this band of idiots.

*

Late that night, already in bed, Jaskier opened his Instagram. He knew he probably shouldn’t. Blue light and all that jazz, right? But he was used to browsing his social media before going to sleep, and hey, he never had any trouble sleeping afterwards. So he opened it, only to find out that he had been tagged in a pic… by Renfri?

He looked at the pic. And blinked. And blinked again.

He hadn’t noticed her even taking the photo, but she must have, somehow.

It was of him and Geralt, face to face, both holding their microphones and apparently singing, eyes closed, faces intense with concentration. It must have been in the second half of the rehearsal, because Geralt had already taken off his jacket. He was only in his absolutely inappropriate tight black T-shirt, and it took all of Jaskier’s willpower not to look at those muscular arms. He scrolled to the caption.

Because it seems that everybody wants to see those two morons on a pic together, I give you: the mighty White Wolf and @jaskierthebard working on Toss a Coin To Your Witcher. And let me tell you – they don’t just look good together, they also sound AMAZING. I can’t wait to play this song live!

#kaermorhen #workinghard #rehearsing #thebardandthewolf

Jaskier rolled his eyes.

The Bard and the Wolf? Seriously?

Yeah, that was never going to catch on…

Continue with Chapter Six

[homosociallyyours]

Girl Di-REC-tion

@crazybutimintoit​ asked me for some of my favorite girl direction fics, and I thought that since it’s pretty much the 28th (shhh, let’s pretend i had the energy to do this hours ago) it would be a great time for a girl direction rec post!! This barely scratches the surface, so hopefully I’ll do more of these in the future. 

When I Think About You by @phd-mama​ 5k, E Harry is beautiful, inexperienced, and curious. Louis is smart, seasoned, and comfortable in her own body. When Harry has questions, just maybe, Louis has the answers she’s looking for.And... they’re roommates.

This is a searing little fic written for wankfest. Absolutely love the build up and the ending feels like it opens up into a million possibilities for all your girl direction day dreaming needs. 

Withdrawal Was the Weeping by @becomeawendybird 11k, E Confined by life and society, Harry spends her Sunday afternoons walking aimlessly about the countryside as it's her only source of freedom. One Sunday she is aided by the most beautiful woman she has ever met, but not everything is as it seems. Was it a trick of the light? Was it Harry's own active imagination? There is nothing to do but try to find her again.

Molly writes wicked girl direction fics, always. This one is no exception. Smoldering period romance novel smut that will probably come find you in the middle of the night to take you away from the misery of our modern world.

Wrap You Up In Daisy Chains by @horsegirlharry​ 11k, E Ten minutes later, an awkward, long-legged, curly-haired, so pale she’s reflective, and so obviously gay-looking Harry Styles is sitting shotgun next to Louis in a bikini, denim cut-offs, and heart-framed sunnies. Or, Harry and Louis and a too-small bathing 

Before reading this fic, I didn’t understand girl direction. I was a fool. It’s a classic...for very good reason. I love all Phoenix’s fic, her girl direction especially.

Bambi Legs by @disgruntledkittenface​ 12k, NR Harry works at her family’s fabric store sometimes and always sells the most interesting fabrics to Louis. Louis is the wannabe fashion designer who keeps buying fabric she doesn’t necessarily need just to find a way to talk to Harry.

A sweet AU where I feel like the chemistry and awkward flirtation between Louis and Harry is peak and it’s easy to spend the whole time you’re reading just grinning and squealing. Maggie is another writer whose girl direction I die for! 

I’m the Queen of Rock n Roll by @lesbianiconharrystyles​ T, 17k In which Louis is in love with two girls she doesn't know - one she's never met and one she kissed upon first sight - and it takes a lot of zines and weed and Bugles for her to figure it all out. (Or, it's 1993 in Olympia and everyone's just a useless lesbian with a riot grrrl band.) So many excellent riot grrrl references! I felt this fic deep in my bones and spent the whole time while reading it just having a fit over how great it was. Absolutely immersive and lovely. 

Daydreams Are Made of This by @gaycousinlarry​ (series) 20k, E I’m reccing this whole series, which doesn’t have a summary (bc series) so what I’ll say is that this is delicate, tender, and hot all at once. I love how Eli builds tension here and taking the series as a whole gives you a nice long pre-bedtime read. 

Kiss the Girl by @hazzabeeforlou​ 49k, E Hopeless lesbian Louanna Tomlinson moves to St. Petersburg hoping to forget her recent heartbreak and get a fresh start amid the salty sea air. While working at a mermaid bar isn't exactly what she planned on, one particular mermaid catches her eye, and her heart; Harriet is a confounding confusion of innocence and eagerness, and Lou absolutely cannot figure her out. Harriet loves to swim, but can't touch the sea. She's eager for Lou to show her everything from vintage antique shops to the art of kissing, yet she seems always too wary, as if some shadow follows her footsteps every day, as if some truth could destroy the love that has grown between them. Featuring girl love, ancient rituals, sea lore, and perhaps the most beautiful treasure in the entire ocean.

Tender and sweet and refreshing fic with magical elements and so much more. A great story to fall into and spend the day with.I’m hoping this is the first of many girl direction fics we get from Toni. 

The Changer and the Changed by me 59k, M I know it’s gauche to rec my own fic, but I truly think this is one of the best things I have written (possibly will ever write) in my life, and I think it belongs on a rec list for girl direction fic. It’s a historical au set in 70s NYC in and around a women’s bookstore, and includes lots of links if you’re the kind of person who wants to dive into your historical eras. 

[hermitologist]

My 20 Favorite Records of 2019

Lists! Everyone loves them. Here’s another one.

These are the records I liked the most this year. That doesn’t mean they’re the *best*, that means I liked them. You might not. That’s fine! You might be livid that Porpoise Corpse’s neo-classical folk prog double LP isn’t on my list because it’s an easy top 5 record for you, but maybe electric mandolin solos, blast beats, and harpsichord runs aren’t my thing. That’s fine too! It’s infinitely cooler and far more productive to let people enjoy the art they enjoy rather than wasting precious minutes of your life trying to convince the entire internet to have the exact same taste in music.

That said ... 

This years list is chock full of the usual, if you’re familiar with my taste at all -- tons of super heavy bummer jams, a handful of Radiohead-adjacent mid-tempo rock of the indie or emo variety, some hearty post-rock, some tried-and-true vets doing the thing they do very well ... again, and a few outliers. The honorable mentions list gets considerably more eclectic if you’re looking for stuff that sounds less like a soundtrack to various stages of the apocalypse.

As always, I welcome your suggestions for records and podcasts I might’ve missed the boat on. There’s way too much good stuff out there to keep up with, so PLEASE help me out.

Also: When I am not being a lazy pile of crap, I try to haul my dadbod around town for a run a few days a week and will listen to/briefly review a record in the process. Almost every record on this list has been a part of one of those posts, so if you’re interested in such a thing, please check out my Instagram.

BONUS: I put together a playlist on Spotify of my favorite song from each of my top 20 records, and a separate one for the 51 other records I liked this year, so if you’re overwhelmed and don’t know where to start, just needle drop a little and see if anything grabs you. And if anyone’s feeling productive and has time to do an Apple Music playlist, I’ll link and credit you.

Top 20 Spotify Playlist

Top 20 Apple Music Playlist -- Thanks, Austin!

Other Faves Spotify Playlist

But before we get to the Top 20, a couple of records that deserve a nod ... 

Record I Listened To The Most In 2019 Whether I Wanted To Or Not

Angel Du$t - Pretty Buff

This is my four-year-old son’s favorite record, and while I’m trying to round out his musical palate by throwing on all sorts of different bands while we’re hanging out, he insists on either “no music” or “The Basketball Song” (which is “Big Ass Love”). I have no idea how or why his little amazingly weird brain equates the song with basketball (a sport he doesn’t really play or watch or think about ever, to my knowledge), but it does. He LOVES IT. I’ve got to admit, I didn't care for the song all that much when I first heard it, but it’s an earworm, and some 3000 plays later, I love it, and I love the record. Funny how that works out.

Record That Came out in 2009, But I Didn’t Discover Until 2019

Self-Evident - Endings

Endings was neck-and-neck with my favorite record of 2019 for spins this year. Coincidentally, the it was recommended by someone from the band who made my #1 record, and it has moments where it sounds a whole hell of a lot like my #1 record. Blows my mind that a band that was/is so incredibly in my wheelhouse sonically, that has released nine LPs over an 18 year career, and operates in circles incredibly close to a ton of bands I love and respect and nerd out about music with somehow managed to elude me for the better part of two decades. At any rate I’m incredibly stoked to have finally found them, absolutely love them, and honestly might’ve listened to this LP 20 times in a matter of a few days when I got my first taste. It’s that good. 

And now for the list ... 

20) Remote Viewing - It’s Better This Way

Super nasty, dark, sludgy, well-crafted noise rock out of London that fits somewhere in between KEN Mode and early-Kowloon Walled City sonically. You’d think it was pretty crazy to have a band be so locked in and fully formed as early as LP2, but then you find out they’re ex-members of Palehorse, Million Dead, and I Want You Dead and it all kinda makes sense. Unfortunately, the song on the playlist is from a previous LP (because the new one is inexplicably not on Spotify), but you can and should get the new record on Bandcamp.

19) From Indian Lakes - Dimly Lit

I’ve been a big fan of FIL for years, but have always been at a bit of a loss when it comes time to describe them. It’s hazy and dreamy, but not quite shoegazey ... it’s insanely infectious and pleasing to the ear, but not really poppy ... it’s forward-thinking and experimental, but not quite art-rock or groggy at all. It’s just excellent. Full stop. If you dig anything from Tycho, to Radiohead, to The Cure, to Slowdive you’ll enjoy this.

18) Stray From The Path - Internal Atomics

Furious, mathy, riff-heavy hardcore from Long Island that sounds like a reformed Rage Against The Machine had spent the past two decades doing steroids, mainlining Red Bull, and studying the finer points of Moshology. The breakdowns are massive, the drumming absolutely mental, and the vocals pissed as hell. At my advanced age, it’s rare that a record makes me want to pit and/or try to deadlift cars, but this one’s got that magic.

17) Glassing - Spotted Horse

Mostly spazzy, occasionally dreamy, black-metal sprinkled post-hardcore that fits in very well with bands like Portrayal Of Guilt and Respire in the rebirth of traditional screamo. It’s fits and starts of chaos and beauty, and it all sounds and feels like it could completely go off the rails at any time which is what made bands like Orchid and Majority Rule and Saetia so great back in the day. 

16) La Dispute - Panorama

It’s no secret that I’m a big La Dispute fan (Thrice has toured the US with them twice in the past decade), and I love all of their records, but I’m pretty sure I can say with full confidence that this is the best record they’ve ever made. Everything is firing at peak performance, and the way the record is arranged and sequenced makes it feel more like a film score than a collection of songs. It’s a complete work -- meant to be listened to as such, which is a daunting artistic task, but they pulled it off in grand fashion.

15) Russian Circles - Blood Year

This band has been in the upper echelon of post-rock bands for as long as I can remember, and Blood Year is another incredible addition to their already stellar discography. These guys are all absolute monsters at their given instruments, and one of the best live rock bands on the planet, so getting to hear them do their thing on a record that manages to actually capture that live energy and ambience really does the trick for me. 

14) Greet Death - New Hell

This one kinda came outta nowhere for me, as I (ashamedly) was not familiar with them prior to giving New Hell a spin. It blew me away. I’m a total sucker for bummer jams, and this record is full of top-quality sludgy, sad, shoegazey goodness. If you dig Cloakroom, O’ Brother, or Pianos Become The Teeth this is gonna be right up your alley.  

13) Sleep Token - Sundowning

Another record that came out of nowhere to knock me on my ass. I downloaded it before a transatlantic flight on a whim (after hearing about 30 seconds of the opening track), hoping that it would be a nice, mellow companion to ease my in-flight anxiety. And it was, but whoa was it so much more than that. It kinda sounds like a collab between Active Child and Deftones -- poppy, melancholic piano ballads, brought to crushing crescendos via super heavy drop-tuned sludge -- which sounds like a mess, but it works so well. It’s a killer record and probably would’ve landed higher on this year’s list if it hadn’t come out so late in the year.

12) Big Thief - UFOF

This one’s a bit of an outlier, and a damn good one at that. I came across UFOF via a friend’s recommendation before the hype train had left the station, and honestly didn’t know what to expect. Said recommendation simply said that it was good and infectious and probably a few other things that I can’t recall, but didn’t mention the folk thing (which is great because I probably would have passed). The friend was right. It’s good (maybe even great), incredibly infectious, and gave me a nice reprieve from the heavy stuff I tend to listen to on the regular.

11) Cave In - Final Transmission

I’m beyond thankful we got any new music from Cave In after Caleb passed. They owed us nothing, and had every right to walk away, but managed to rally to release a killer record that is heavy both sonically and conceptually, and still manages to give me chills despite being live demos recorded in a rehearsal room. There are few bands on the planet who’ve inspired me like Cave In have, and seeing them pull together to grieve and forge ahead to continue to build their legacy is even more inspiring. What a band.

10) Pedro The Lion - Phoenix

My favorite singer/songwriter of my generation decided to revive the project that made me a fan of his in the first place. That project put out a record for the first time in 15 years, and I had unreasonably high expectations for it. Phoenix delivered and then some. I remember sitting at my kitchen table, weeping into my cup of coffee the first time I heard Phoenix, the same way Control used to make it seem like the inside of the Thrice van was getting a little dusty during cross-country drives back in the early 00s. It blows my mind that David Bazan can be such a prolific artist, write such insanely powerful music, and seem incapable of writing a dud song. 

9) Coilguns - Watchwinders

This Swiss noise-rock band kicks unbelievable amounts of ass. Their Millenials LP made my favorites list last year, and when I heard they had a follow up coming out a little over a year later, my gut reaction was to worry they’d blow it with a new record that was either rushed and/or half-assed, or lose the plot and take a hard left turn and make something markedly un-Coilguns. They did neither. The made an absolute monster of an album, that was apparently written in the studio, and is full of live energy in rawness that is pretty tough to capture in a sterile atmosphere like a studio. Watchwinders dropped in late October, and if I’d had a bit more time with it, I could see it moving up to my Top 5. It’s that good. I find myself going back to it constantly.

8) Blessed - Salt

This record kinda defies description, but it reminds me of everything from Pile to Menomena to Interpol to La Dispute to Devo at times. As scatterbrained and incongruent as that might sound, I assure you it rules. It was in verrrry heavy rotation this year -- mostly for the utterly filthy drum groove on the final track. If you like your music catchy, but slathered in weird, this is definitely gonna do the thing for you. It’s an incredible record.

7) Herod - Sombre Dessein

I hadn’t heard of this band before they popped up on a Spotify playlist early this year, and when “Reckoning” hit, it absolutely flattened me. You know that nuclear apocalypse scene from Terminator 2? That’s what “Reckoning” did to me. It was undoubtedly my favorite ultra-heavy track of the year, and while it’s my favorite song on the record by a pretty large margin, the rest of Sombre Dessein kicks ass too. It’s 42 minutes of crushing heaviness that kinda sounds like a blend of Cult Of Luna, Meshuggah, and Gojira. Heavy. Pissed. Unrelenting. And Outstanding.

6) Pile - Green & Grey

Every time I try to describe Pile to someone I fail. On Wikipedia they’re described as “indie rock”, which ... sure, I suppose? There’s a little post-punk in there, a little post-rock, a little noise-rock, nods to classic rock (maybe?), a little of that southern magic that made Colour Revolt so great (but Pile’s from Boston so hmm ... ), some country even? Do you like weird guitars? Freakish musicians? Melancholic crooning? I dunno. It’s all over the place, but in the best ways possible. They’re a singular band, and so damn good. Green & Grey is stellar addition to a discography that is already full of incredible music ... even if the album cover gives makes me want to fold those blankets and put them away.

5) PUP - Morbid Stuff

Was this the year that PUP broke? Definitely seems like it, and rightfully so. Morbid Stuff is my favorite thing they’ve ever done, but I’ve absolutely loved everything they’ve ever put out, so that’s saying a lot. Per usual, it’s insanely infectious and anthemic without being traditionally poppy or relying on tropes to burrow into your skull and take up residence there. It’s uplifting musically, but kinda depressing lyrically, which does this weird push/pull thing in my brain that makes it impossible to stop listening to. The musicianship is fantastic, the guitar parts especially -- like the guitar line in “Scorpion Hill” wow. I really needed a record to fill the gaping void between the metal/sludge/noise and the ambient/downtempo electronica I listened to this year, and Morbid Stuff fit the bill perfectly.

4) Cult Of Luna - A Dawn To Fear

These guys belong on the Mount Rushmore of Post-Rock/Metal with Neurosis and Isis. Nobody has done it better than them over the past two decades, and A Dawn To Fear is arguably their best work to date. It, like any Cult Of Luna requires a great deal of patience, but man if they don’t make the wait worth it. They’re the masters of the slow build to an absolutely crushing climax, the dynamic shifts that leave you feeling like you got hit by a freight train, the nuanced instrumentation that tells a different story each time you listen to a certain section of a song. They’re absolute masters at their craft, and this record is them at their peak. 

3) Big|Brave - A Gaze Among Them

Another record that came out of nowhere to completely floor me. I hadn’t heard a single note from this band until a friend recommended I check out the opening track, “Muted Shifting Of Space”. I did ... and that plodding drum and bass pulse with dark, swirling, ethereal guitar swells/feedback and soaring vocals building into a huge release of sludgy, drop-tuned goodness checked off all the boxes for me. I was hooked. The atmosphere and dynamics Big|Brave have built their sound around give every song a cinematic feel -- if you close your eyes, can you see drone footage of landscapes too? . If you dig post-rock/metal that is experimental around the edges, moody, absurdly heavy, and has both feet firmly planted in sludge, this is a must-have record. 

2) Cloudkicker - Unending

If you’ve been following me on social media or reading these year-end lists for a while you’re probably pretty familiar with Cloudkicker by now because any time we get new music I can’t shut up about it and the record invariably ends up on this list. This instance is no different. Unending is the first LP we’ve gotten from Ben Sharp in four years, and it’s worth the wait and then some. He’s managed to pull from every era of CK and turn it into a masterpiece mash-up of styles without it ever feeling rehashed or uninspired. I’d go far as to say this tops Beacons and Fade for me, and comes awfully close to challenging Subsume for my favorite Cloudkicker record of all time and space. There’s soooo much progressive and djenty masturbatory metal garbage floating in the ether right now. Hearing the one of the kings do the damn thing properly is incredibly refreshing.

1) Town Portal - Of Violence

No surprise here. I’ve been crapping my pants about this band ever since my good friend Scott Evans shared their music with me a couple years ago. I’ve been unhealthily obsessed ever since. The magical progressive rock/metal these three guys are capable melts and massages my brain in a way few bands ever have. Of Violence is incredibly mathy without ever feeling awkward, it’s melodic without being conventional, it’s discordant without being abrasive, it’s heavy as shit without being overloaded with distortion, it’s progressive as hell without ever coming remotely close to devolving into a wankfest, and it’s damn near perfect in every way. Songwriting? Great. Tones? Phenomenal. Musicianship? Otherworldly. Execution? Flawless. Mix? Perfect. Replayability? (Not a word, but ... ) PUT THIS RECORD ON A GODDAMN LOOP AND NEVER TURN IT OFF. Can you tell I like it? You might too, so give it a listen. And if by chance you do not like it, please see a doctor. You’re broken.

OTHER STUFF I REALLY ENJOYED THIS YEAR

HEAVY JAMS

METZ - Automat

Buildings - Negative Sound

Helms Alee - Noctiluca

Minors - Abject Bodies

Periphery - Periphery 4: HAIL STAN

Employed To Serve - Eternal Forward Motion

Elizabeth Colour Wheel - Nocero

Defeater - S/T

Pelican - Nighttime Stories

Spotlights - Love And Decay

Great Falls - A Sense of Rest

Baroness - Gold & Grey

The End of the Ocean - -aire

Vous Autres - Champ du Sang

Brutus - Nest

Torche - Admission

Glose - The Second Best of Glose

Throes - In The Hands of an Angry God

Slipknot - We Are Not Your Kind

meth. - Mother of Red Light

SECT - Blood of the Beasts

Kublai Khan TX - Absolute

Seizures - Reverie of the Revolving Diamond

Dead Kiwis - Systematic Home Run

Norma Jean - All Hail

Refused - War Music

Chamber - Ripping / Pulling / Tearing

MIDRANGE JAMS

Jimmy Eat World - Surviving

Elbow - Giants of All Sizes

Raketkanon - RKTKN #3

Bad Religion - Age of Unreason

The Appleseed Cast - The Fleeting Light of Impermanence

DIIV - Deceiver

Idiot Pilot - Blue Blood

Microwave - Death Is A Warm Blanket

Low Dose - S/T

SWMRS - Berkeley’s On Fire

Self-Evident - Lost Inside The Machinery

B. Hamilton - Nothing and Nowhere

MELLOW JAMS

Trade Wind - Certain Freedoms

Square Peg Round Hole - Branches

Great Grandpa - Four of Arrows

Local Natives - Violet Street

Rhone - Leaving State

Shlohmo - The End 

Tycho - Weather

Bon Iver - i,i

Drowse - Light Mirror

Bonniesongs - Energetic Mind

Telefon Tel Aviv - Dreams Are Not Enough

GoGo Penguin - Ocean In A Drop

Bent Knee - You Know What They Mean

THE PODCAST QUEUE

The Deadcast (RIP) - sports, culture

Chapo Trap House - politics

The Rich Roll Podcast - health, wellness, endurance sports

Hang Up & Listen - sports

Effectively Wild - baseball

The Gist - current events

The Downbeat - drums, humor

To Live & Die In LA - true crime

FilmDrunk Frotcast - movies, culture, humor

The Modern Drummer Podcast with Mike & Mike - drums (duh)

The Trap Set - also drums

Song Exploder - songwriting

[aqvarius]

5memorable moments and 5 guys you came to love?

[5] memorable moments:

1. shinobu narita from serendipity next door throwing a fucking fit because mc saw something personal of his while he literally was snooping through her personal work bag basically every day and making shitty, uncalled-for comments about it all the time

you just called YOURSELF insensitive you dickweed!!!!!! 

2. issei telling mc to kill him. i couldn’t believe he actually did that. i thought kor mc was going to battle through her conflict between love and revenge internally but when he told her to do it, i thought my heart was going to stop. i think this is not only one of the most memorable but what i probably consider to be one of the greatest voltage moments

3. when lute from akd actually dies. this is the one and only voltage moment that actually had me sobbing in real life. i make a lot of jokes about crying over voltage routes and guys. but when lute’s heart stopped beating i was actually a mess. i remember having to take a half hour break to actually weep into my pillow because i just couldn’t bear it. maybe i was premenstrual or in a particularly weak mental state? no idea, but that one scene really wrecked me in that moment

4. kaga’s colourless dream/nightmare of mc’s death when he takes a bullet for her. we rarely see kaga express how important his mc is for him, but this really cemented that she is everything to him. to see the meaning of her in his life, the responsibility he also feels to her family, the fact that he’ll do anything and change anything just to have her back, in such a poetic way felt so poignant, especially on the back of what happened in adversaries when kaga had to choose chasing the perp over saving mc who was bleeding out. when i think of kaga’s love for his mc, it’s this scene which i think captures it the best. 

5. hue ripping the stars out of his one remaining eye to save his love again/goddess mc making her decision between being with hue or saving humanity/mc going back in time and promising hue they’ll find each other in the future. i can’t pick between these three incredible hue x mc moments so i’m just gonna bundle them together as memorable hue moments. (oh!! also when mc finally remembers hue in the lake!!) these three moments i think are the pinnacle of what i consider to be voltage’s most fated romance. these moments are what make hue x mc my forever otp, because these two are each other’s past, present and future and they were never meant to be with anyone else. anyway hue should have been scm’s title character because he and mc are the canon scm couple and i WILL fight anyone who says otherwise.

(edited to add links to the aforementioned hue moments because of COURSE i had to have screenshotted and posted them on my blog haha)

6. BONUS when ayumu and mc finally have sex for the first time. the anticipation had been building up for so long and then to have that whole agonising ‘error’ and misunderstanding happen before they finally did the deed really made it so significant when they do finally have sex. i think this may probably be the most touching and momentous sex scene in any voltage route.  

[5] guys you came to love:

1. ayumu shinonome: if you scroll waaaay far back to some of my earliest hlitf tagged posts, you may remember this time when i was saying i was afraid to play him because he seemed too twisted (btw this is because i was/am still suffering from shinobu-induced trauma) and i didn’t wanna spend money buying all his routes hahaha (tea, you fool!!!). luckily @effloresensemn ​ talked me out of it and he’s definitely someone who i have come to absolutely ADORE. talking about this mushroom with @gamerjanice ​ and @world-a-to-z ​ is probably one of my favourite things to do on tumblr haha.

2. takeshi yuno: i mean i was definitely interested in him from the start and then i really started to fall for him about midway through his MS. but i think it was his later seasons where i came to love him more than ever. he and his mc go through so much together. i once said that take’s routes put a thousand tons of emotional burden on you and i really think that is what makes their relationship so great. they’ve been together through all the ups and (so, so many) downs and it just makes their relationship (and my love for him) so much stronger because of all the difficulties. 

3. chikage: this dude is… both so hard and so easy to love. sometimes i’m like oh chikage why you so tsun but then he’ll just do something ridiculously cute or suddenly be really straightforward about something embarrassing and i’ll be like whAT???? you’re too shy to hold my hand in public but you’ll sacrifice your life to save me? or comment on my ass??? i love love love chikage so much even though he’s prickly as a cactus but i just have to share one of my favourite moments which is when mc gained some weight and was trying to wear a weighted vest under her clothes to lose the weight and she fell off a boat and was drowning and chikage, who hates getting wet and didn’t even wanna ride this boat, dived in to save her. and then this exchange happened:

you can read the whole convo here ughhh it’s so great

4. kazuomi shido: i wasn’t expecting to like kazuomi as much as i do because i really thought he was just gonna be generic oresama type. but i’d definitely say he’s more of the kyohei type than the leon type, if that makes sense. i thought yuzuru was going to be My Guy in masquerade kiss but actually i think i like kazuomi more (although i prefer yuzuru’s mc cause she’s better at her job haha). he’s just… fun? but he’s so clever, and i love that he challenges his mc and kinda toys with her and lets her do her own thing rather than just commanding/ordering her around. also when i found out about his past and his love for crowded/frenetic places i think that’s when i really felt a stronger connection to him because i feel really similarly myself. 

5. hiro sarashina: i’m actually surprised that i ended up liking him because honestly i don’t really go for the genki guys and at that time @hikarunohana and i had this thing going where we were just hating on sora from msb who i thought would hiro would be really similar to lol but yeah i was kinda surprised that i actually ended up loving hiro because he’s surprisingly(?) reliable and attractive. 

thanks for the ask!

[kindredsoulsoftimesofold]

Incoming TROS rant

yes, there will be spoilers as I will be breaking down everything I saw tonight. If I manage to type choking on my tears well after the movie finished.

----

FINAL WARNING IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS

Let’s start with a few opening words, this rant will indeed be a long one.

ALL THE LEAKS ARE TRUE. And I mean ALL of them. To a T. As soon as I saw the first half was exactly as I’d read, I was crushed. As I knew what was coming. On that note, i was probably the only person in the theatre who was crying like 15-20 minutes before we were supposed to, I’ll get to that in a bit. I’m saving the WORST for last. Let’s break this shit down.

1. The plot is a mess. An actual mess. I feel like every five minutes I was shaking my head and mumbling ‘what kind of nonsense is this’. The breaking of lore or COMMON SENSE really is substantial. But that is definitely not what I cared about, as I already KNEW this even without the leaks. When you can’t get your two directors to FUCKING WORK TOGETHER TO MAKE A COHESIVE STORYLINE it is bound to grasp for straws and make shit up. IT AIN’T NOTHING NEW.

2. Here’s the kicker. THE DIALOGUE WAS SO BAD, it makes Anakin’s AOTC speech seem like a hymn, or poetry or whatever. They CONSTANTLY say what they’re doing, they’re literally reciting the exposition to each other and it comes off as extremely annoying and makes you feel like a toddler. No hate against toddlers, but I’d rather not be one right now. It feels unnatural, forced and STUPID to the point where I would start WISHING for 3PO to come back on screen because Anthony Daniels somehow managed to snag some actually decent lines for once? I love the man, but the droid usually really annoys the crap outta me. He was literally the highlight of the film. Don’t get me started on the stupidity of all of Lando’s lines, poor Billy. Daisy has to stare angrily most of the time so I don’t really care to recall her lines. Adam, my dear Adam, he tries SO HARD to make do with what he was given but even his lines 90% of the time come off as stupid and out of place. Or the worst type in this movie, EXPOSITIONYY. Don’t get me started on Mark Hamill and Harrison Ford. Boys looked like they didn’t sign up for this shit and were literally force choked to be there. I feel you guys, I feel you. ALSO FOR THE LOVE OF THE FORCE THE TIMES THEY REPEATED WORD FOR WORD LINES FROM OTHER MOVIES I WANTED TO SCREAM. Once is too much, THIS MANY TIMES IT IS A FELONY. And it needs to be punished somehow.

3. Let’s get the positives out of the way because there were FEW. The two scenes I actually REALLY enjoyed watching, for different reasons were:

Ben and Palps meeting. The scene was much longer than the clip and SUPER badass. Sheev’s voice echoes, Ben looks fucking cool and the whole scene is GORGEOUS.

The other is when Ben fights as a Jedi in the end. I’ll get to Ben later BELIEVE ME but without overexplaining, he fights with Anakin’s lightsabre, he’s really speedy and is doing all the Jedi spins and whatnot. I fucking ATE THAT UP. Replay that scene forever please CAUSE I LOVED IT. But I was already crying here so we’ll touch more on that later.

To conclude this segment, the visuals were SUPERB, the sound was AMAZING and (some) of the fights were jaw droppingly cool. But that about concludes the positives!

4. I will comment, as I know a lot of people will care even if I don’t particularily. Finn, Poe, Rose and the merry gang aside from our Jedi are reduced to EH this movie. If you thought you’d never miss Rose boy were you wrong. They introduce new characters and expect you to care about them when they SIDELINED the ones they’d hoped you’d care about BEFORE. And it made me care about NO ONE. Not to mention that, sadly, they are ALWAYS reduced to the boring side plot that really isn’t interested or key to much of ANYTHING. Sure they roused the people and all but would’ve been TOAST if Rey didn’t go all Jesus on the fleet. So at the end of the day, you MAY find some enjoyment with the side characters but their lines were some of the worst, you WILL be force fed new people and you might not really enjoy your previous faves here because even I found myself being completely indifferent this time. (I actually really ENJOYED Finn since TFA. He had a compelling storyline and John Boyega was alright. Couldn’t give two wits about him in this movie. Not a single one. But again, I may not be the perfect person to ask if you really,really like any of these characters.

5. Finally, we have arrived to the main event. THE REYLO.

The backbone of this clusterfuck of a new trilogy. The last Skywalker and Palpatine, coming together instead of apart. The arguably BEST actors (legacies aside) Disney managed to get. Now, I will start this off that I didn’t HATE Rey before this movie. I loved her in TFA, enjoyed her less in TLJ but the novelization fixed that. I was BACK ON BOARD to be her number one stan. In this movie, I couldn’t STAND her. Her lines are basically the director walking you through things, her plotline was obviously made last minute so almost none of it makes sense,  I literally wanted to curl up and DIE from cringing so hard every time someone said ‘you’re a Palpatine’. I thought I was looking at a very expensive rendition of terrible fan fiction. (Not to diss fan fiction in any way, you guys will be my heroes after this catastrophe.) ‘Empress Palpatine’, COME THE FUCK ON AND GET OUT WITH THIS SHIT. Bring back crusty old Snoke for crying out loud! Or even HUX! Who got killed off in a second and had three lines of dialogue, not important I guess? Like a great many things I guess, JJ. But, EVEN Palpatine aside, it was great seeing him again and every scene he was in I got chills, who cares that it makes zero sense at this point. Back to reylo.

Ben. Ben Solo Organa Skywalker. The last hope. The final remnant of something I have loved FOREVER. I grew up with Star Wars, like many others just in a different, post prequel era and they are still my favourites. This might sound ridiculous but Star Wars was part of my heart, my happiness. It brought me joy to watch it, read it, fantasize about it and have it in my life when times were dark or miserable. It MEANT something to me, as I am sure many of you will agree. And Ben was part of that. He was part of something that MEANT something to all of us. He was the last line of the characters we all grew up with and loved. The GRANDSON of Anakin, my favourite character of all time. This was their chance to stop the trend that Loki’s death in IW and Daenerys’ death and turn and many others started and STOP killing people who did wrongs. PEOPLE can change, they can grow and they can learn. Hell, to not stray to far from this franchise REY has killed A LOT of people in this movie alone. She DECIMATES the room full of Palpatine’s followers and never blinks an eye. SHE NEARLY KILLS CHEWIE, DOES KILL BEN (for a minute) and SHE DOESN’T NEED TO DIE. Of course she doesn’t but BEN DOESN’T EITHER. After all that YOU JJ, YES YOU, show me that the LAST SKYWALKER has gone through, suffered, alone and frightened. I would’ve ENDED you if you’d suggested killing him off to me, EVER. He was your chance to do a reverse Vader, AS YOU CLAIMED YOU WOULD. To show a character can come back to the light and be worthy of it WITHOUT DYING. You even set it up as such, which is my next and CRUCIAL POINT.

I’ve been a reylo since 2015. Their dynamic has always been fascinating to me and beautiful. I LOVED all the moments in TLJ, LOVED THEM. In this one, every time they force bond (terrible dialogue aside, again) I was happy. I had a hope that she would bring him back from the darkness and he will keep her balanced. WELL, JJ, guess fuck me huh? And anyone with common sense and human decency. JUST WHEN you shove Ben’s turn in my face, you make him talk to Han, you make him strut in to fight alongside Rey in full Ben Solo Jedi mode, hair blown and casually dressed. It was when he runs onto Exegol that I started weeping. Because knowing that he dies as I did, it broke my heart how it was done. You give me the scene where he fights and you give me hope of what his future could’ve been if only you’d listened to reason and done what was supposed to be done. He is chucked into the pit, WHICH MIGHT I ADD WOULD’VE MADE ME MAD IF THAT WAS HIS END BUT WOULD’VE BEEN SOOOO MUCH BETTER THAN WHAT WE GOT, comes back. And now comes the scene that cemented this as the ABSOLUTE WORST insult to me as a fan, possible. Ben is heartbroken that Rey is dead, the moment is sad and he cradles her dead body and hugs her desperately. Which would’ve been a beautiful and GOOD DIFFERENT type of ending. Or rather not having her die at all and being NEAR her death and him saving her and both living happily ever after BUT NO. JJ AFTER THAT has her come back, smile happily when she sees it’s him, her love her hope and the other half of her SOUL literally (the diad or whatever it’s called is so rare that Palpatine was thrilled they’d formed such a bond, basically space soulmates), he has them kiss, then hold each other and smile at each other with genuine feeling of joy and belonging both of them had sought all their life AND THEN YANKS IT FROM UNDER YOU. The scene where Ben falls flat onto his back is quite comical and I couldn’t help but laugh in my misery and sobbing. Rey doesn’t even cry, we don’t even LINGER on his body or mourn him afterwards or even mention it or EVEN SEE her, THE PERSON WHO LITERALLY FOUND HER SOULMATE AND WAS SO HAPPY WHEN SHE KISSED HIM AND WAS LITERALLY SAVED BY HIM, but no guess that doesn’t require a scene, sure, fuck it LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE. The cheery music that plays up until the moment of his fall, YES THE FALL OF SKYWALKER MIND YOU NOT A FUCKING RISE, was an insult to every fan everyhwere, lifelong or recent or otherwise, it was a punch to the gut, a slap in the face and after this happened I no longer paid attention to the movie. I’d been crying for some time leading up to the moment, I knew what was coming and the execution only made it worse and a more desperate cry rather than only sad, I was hoping it wouldn’t happen somehow. I choked back tears until I finally got home and cried. One of the things which MEANT so much to me, was dead. I no longer have any doubts, that this was intentional. Look at Game of thrones, that was this year. It seemed intentional to make series stop, right? Everyone agrees. They wanted to finally bury the Skywalkers so they could make something unrelated? They kill off all the Skywalkers. Well guess what disney? YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO BRING THEM BACK IN THE FIRST PLACE, YOU MONEY HUNGRY PIECE OF SHIT. No one would have minded a new trilogy, with new characters doing NEW things. Why even drag the Skywalkers and the leagies into this if YOU DON’T WANT THEM HERE? All you got was millions of lifelong fans of the old movies who have already felt or are only now beginning to feel BETRAYED. I swear it disney, I don’t want to feel this misery again. You won’t take Star Wars away from me and the joy it brought me. I will without a care in the world dismiss this new trilogy as something completely separate from canon. You’ve killed your own fanbase. You could’ve had us but you LOST us. You dangled something we wanted in front of us for our money and then you ripped it apart.

If you are anything like me, anything like me at all and have loved SW for however long. if it MEANS ANYTHING TO YOU, I beg you not to see this movie or at the very least, pay for it. You WILL feel betrayed, insulted, heartbroken, devastated and miserable, as I am feeling right now. I was supposed to go see this movie another two times but i cannot and will not spend another CENT on a company that chooses to alienate me. Fine, have it your way. I’m done.

This concludes my rant as I am tired and upset. If I missed out on anything and you are interested in anything else, please do DM me or leave a comment :) We’re all in this together now, the reylos the antis the new fans and the old. We’re all in the same heartbreaking boat, I love you all. And I will love Star Wars. The REAL Star Wars forever. I wasn’t even sad the ‘FRANCHISE’ was ending because it wasn’t. It had ended a long, long time ago.

[shipmistress9]

Could you do #19. “How are you feeling today?” for Hiccstrid, please? I loved your other one!

Okay, I’m not sure this is what you expected… But when do prompts ever behave? Anyway, this is what my mind came up with for that prompt, so I hope someone will like it. ^^”

HTTYD – Hiccstrid – canonverse/post HTTYD3 – T-rated – Angst/Fluff

A New Wind

Her screams were horrible.

With every single one, Hiccup felt as if his heart got ripped to shreds, and the worst part was that there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was wait, hope, and, if he dared, hold her hand.

“You can do this,” he said encouragingly, repeating the same mantra he’d said so many times before already. It felt bleak and foul by now, not as if it helped at all. And judging by Astrid’s reaction, it didn’t.

“Stop- uh! Stop saying that!” she pressed out, groaning in pain and clutching at his hand. Her words were followed by another pained outcry that nearly tore him apart.

“Then tell me what else I can do,” he begged, desperate to do something to help her. This was a nightmare, all of it. And there seemed to be no end.

Astrid shook her head with a mixture of sobbing and hysterical laughter. “You can’t do anything. I-ngg… I’ve got to–”

“You could open the window, Chief,” Astrid’s aunt Helka, who also was the village’s midwife, ordered. “Not for long, we want to keep it warm and cosy in here, but some fresh air would help us all, I think.”

Hiccup nodded, carefully pried his hands loose from Astrid’s iron grip, and hurried to do as he was told. He took a deep breath of the cool and fresh breeze, only now noticing how stuffy it was inside. Outside, the sun was already setting. How strange… hadn’t it just been mid-morning? He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed; no wonder Astrid was so exhausted. He turned to look at her again where she lay on the bench by the fire, her swollen body trembling and covered in sweat.

“Mmh, yes,” she whispered as he crouched back by her side. “I like the wind. It feels nice.”

Hiccup almost chuckled. The wind. It was something of a codeword between the two of them. The wind was the memory of soaring through the sky, of cool air tearing at their clothes.

The memory of their best friends.

But before those thoughts and memories could linger, Astrid asked out of the blue, “Ha-have you… already decided on… on a name?” Her voice was weak, eyes closed where her head was resting against his shoulder.

Torn between the urge to pull her closer and the fear of causing her even more pain, Hiccup just turned his head and buried his face in her entangled hair. “No, I haven’t,” he murmured. “I want us to do that together. We’ll wait and see whether it’s a boy or a girl, and then–”

Weak laughter shook her body, making her wince almost immediately. It didn’t sound reassuring at all. “Oh, Hiccup…” It seemed as if she wanted to say more but held back, and Hiccup was grateful for it. He didn’t want to hear it. That she might not be around to pick a name.

Instead, she just reached for his hand, her fingers shaking. “You’ll pick a good one. I trust you. I just hope it’s a boy…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hiccup replied, even though he wasn’t sure whether Astrid had heard it.

For a while, everything was quiet safe for Astrid’s occasional cries or whimpering at a contraction, her body stiffening, and pain contorting her face.

“You can do this,” he murmured again, almost despite himself. Giving birth was never easy, he’d learned that much by now. But if there was one woman strong enough then it was Astrid… right?

. o O o .

Time was a tricky thing. The hours seemed to stretch endlessly, dusk turning into night and into dawn again. But when it was over, Hiccup barely remembered how it had happened. Awestruck, he kneeled at Astrid’s side, staring down at the tiny body in her arm. The girl was wrapped in a woollen blanket, only her head with the patch of dark hair visible.

“You did it,” he breathed, stunned. “You really did it. And she’s beautiful!”

Astrid was weeping, from exhaustion probably, or from how overwhelming everything was. For a short moment, she pulled the tiny girl closer to her chest, then let her head roll to the side. She was looking in his general direction, but her eyes seemed unable to focus on anything.

“Take her,” she whispered, so low that he almost didn’t hear her. “Take… I…”

Hiccup jumped as Astrid suddenly fell limp. One hand shot up to steady her body as it threatened to topple off the bench, the other toward the bundle in her arms. But as it was, at least the baby was still safe and secure in her mother’s arms.

“Astrid? Astrid, wake up.” Hiccup shook her shoulder, gently but firmly, but got no answer. “Astrid!”

“Let her sleep,” Helka’s voice sounded from behind him. Hiccup threw her a quick glance where she was washing bloodied sheets and towels. “She is exhausted…” She bit her lip, then shook her head and continued. “There’s nothing you can do for her right now. Let her rest. All we can do is… is hope that that will be enough.”

“W-what are you saying?” He didn’t want to know the answer, didn’t want to hear it. But he had to.

“Astrid, she… she lost a lot of blood. Like, really a lot. I–” The elderly woman licked her lips, then her sad eyes met his directly. “I don’t know whether she’ll make it. This was one of the hardest births I ever witnessed. Astrid is strong, but… well, only time will show whether she’s strong enough.”

Hiccup felt as if the rug got pulled out from under his feet. “What?” he stammered. “No… No! This… this can’t be happening. I need her!”

“And that little girl needs her father,” Helka reminded him gently. “There’s nothing you can do for Astrid right now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do anything.”

Hiccup felt hollow inside, but nodded. His eyes darted back to the little girl still lying in Astrid’s limp arms. Helka was right, his daughter needed him. Ever so carefully, he lifted the tiny body and took her into his arm. With his free hand, he reached for Astrid’s once more, but Helka motioned him out. “Leave her to me. I’ll move her to the bed, stay here to check on her, maybe see if I can feed her some soup. I’ll take care of her,” she promised.

For a while, Hiccup just sat on the steps in front of their new house on New Berk, his newborn daughter asleep in his arms. It was early morning, nobody awake yet, and Hiccup tried not to go crazy with worrying over Astrid. Helka was right, there was nothing he could do for her right now. But Gods, if he were to lose her now… then he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to cope.

The bundle in his arms stirred, and, pushing all those troubling thoughts aside, he focused all his attention on the nameless girl.

“Hey there, little one,” he murmured as he lightly caressed her rosy cheek. Almost despite himself, a smile tugged at his lips as the girl yawned, her tiny pink lips forming a perfect O. Then she opened her eyes, somehow directly looking up at him, and Hiccup’s breath caught in his throat.

She had the same blue eyes as her mother.

. o O o .

When Astrid woke, she had trouble remembering where she was. This wasn’t her room in her parent’s house… was it? Her mind was dazed, her thoughts heavy. She tried to move, but everything hurt. What had happened? Had she been injured? Wounded in a fight?

For a minute or three, she just lay still, gathering strength and trying to get order into her head. She knew this room. Right… it was her and Hiccup’s bedroom in their new house. There were the trunks with their clothes, a shelve with a few of Hiccup’s books, and her beloved axe hanging from its hook on the wall. And there was the crib that Hiccup had build for–

From one moment to the other, Astrid’s mind became crystal clear. Her baby! Groaning, she lifted her head, trying to look around. But before she could move for real, there was shifting on the large bed next to her and a wonderfully familiar voice calling her name.

“Astrid?”

He sounded sleepy, but only for the fraction of a second. Then his head appeared above her, his pale features lighting up with a relieved smile. “Oh Gods, Astrid, you’re awake!”

“Uh, yeah, I think so?” she mumbled, already feeling her strength dwindling again. “What… where is she?” It was all that really mattered. Her little baby girl. She hadn’t imagined it all, hadn’t she? No, certainly not. Feeling her warm weight in her arms, that had to have been real.

“She’s here, don’t worry,” Hiccup reassured her. He reached to the side, and a moment later carefully placed their sleeping daughter onto her chest.

Astrid couldn’t help but stare at her, hard pressed to wrap her head around the fact that this wasn’t a dream. She wasn’t just an idea anymore, not their faceless child growing inside her, but real!

With trembling fingers, Astrid reached for her, caressing her back, her head, her face. “She’s beautiful,” she sobbed, overwhelmed.

“She really is,” Hiccup agreed. “Just like you.”

Astrid laughed. She wanted to swat his arm, but didn’t feel as if she had the strength for it. Instead, she looked back at her daughter, at the tiny nose, the patch of reddish brown hair. She really was beautiful. And yet…

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t dare to meet Hiccup’s eyes, didn’t want to see the possible disappointment there. “I’m sorry that it’s not a boy. But we–”

“What?” Hiccup interrupted her.

Astrid pressed her lips together, but didn’t fight him when he turned her head to look at him. “Astrid, I don’t care whether it’s a boy or a girl!”

“But you need an heir! We can try again, and I’m sure… I mean…”

“No!”

The tone in Hiccup’s voice surprised her and made her look at him after all. There was determination in his eyes, in an intensity she’d barely ever seen before. “But…” she began, but Hiccup cut her off right away.

“I don’t care whether my heir is a boy or a girl. I meant what I said, it doesn’t matter. We both know that women can lead just as well as men. She is my firstborn, and my heir. I…” He gulped, and averted his eyes after all.

Touched, Astrid relaxed a little, hummed with her hand on her daughter’s back. She wasn’t surprised by his decision, not really. But it was good to have it settled nonetheless. “Will she make it though?” she mused, absentmindedly. “She’s so tiny, so small…”

At that, Hiccup chuckled, if reluctantly. “Don’t worry. She’s perfectly healthy. And one day, she’ll be the strongest of them all.”

Astrid joined in on the chuckling, giggling weakly, and almost missed Hiccup turning serious again.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked, weirdly earnest.

She could feel that the question meant more to Hiccup than just polite conversation, so she took the time to listen into her body. “A little weak?” she eventually replied. “Not yet ready to chase after a flock of sheep, at least.” She chuckled. “And everything kinda hurts. All my muscles are sore, as if I’ve worked out for far too long. But all in all… I feel okay?”

Hiccup nodded, sighing. She gave him a confused look, which he returned with a pained one. He seemed reluctant to say more, but in the end, gave in to the silent question in her eyes.

“Astrid… I meant what I said. We don’t need to get more children, or not actively aim for more at least.”

“Well, that’s not really in our hands,” Astrid replied, bemused. “Unless you want to refrain from ever having sex again? Or was that you telling me you don’t find me attractive anymore?” It was meant as a joke, and judging by Hiccup’s brief snort and rolling of his eyes, he took it as such as well. But then, he turned serious again.

“Astrid,” he murmured, reaching for her free hand and idly playing with her finger. “I’m not sure how much you remember… But you almost died giving birth to her. You were unconscious for over two days, and I… I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I love you, more than ever, and… Well, I can’t imagine a world without you in it.”

Smiling at the quote, Astrid gave her husband a loving look. “You won’t lose me,” she promised. She tugged at his arm until he lay down beside her and let her cuddle into his arms. She knew that this wouldn’t be the last word exchanged about that topic, but she didn’t want to argue with him, not now. Instead, she just focused on the moment, on them all three cuddling together, she, Hiccup, and their little baby daughter. Whose name she still didn’t know.

“What did you name her?” she asked, shuffling to encourage him to lay his arm around them both.

“I…” he began, and Astrid could feel how he turned a little self-conscious.

“What, is it that bad?” she teased. She knew that he was prone to ridiculous names, but she’d also meant what she’d told him before. She trusted him not to pick an awful name for their child. That was a tradition, New Berk didn’t need anymore.

“I… don’t think so?” he said, laughing a little nervously. “It’s… Well, it comes from a faraway language originated somewhere deep in the South. Fishlegs found that book in a trader’s vault a while back, and, well… I thought it fits.”

She turned, to give him a curious look. But instead of directly replying, Hiccup reached for the girl’s miniscule hand and carefully placed it against Astrid’s cheek. Closing her eyes, she hummed. That felt good.

“Her name is Zephyr,” Hiccup murmured. “It means light wind or breeze. A little odd, I guess, but I thought–”

“No, it’s good,” Astrid interrupted him, smiling up at him. Then she glanced back at her little girl, at Zephyr, and couldn’t help grinning. The old stronger winds might be gone. But certainly, this new lighter wind would be enough to keep them occupied. “It’s perfect.” 

. o O o .

In here, a trope comes up, something large parts of the fandom seem fond of, but I’m not. So bear with me that I have my own opinion on the part of how Hiccup picks names and whether Astrid agrees with them or not…