#and shed sleep through the fireworks too

[orangechickenpillow]

Meanwhile Lae'zel:

Bg3 as unhinged posts 🍾/?

Part 3

Bonus Astarion under the cut

[wlntrsldler]

iii. you come around and the armor falls, pierce the room like a cannonball. now all we know is don’t let go. | luke castellan | state of grace

seventeen-year-old luke castellan returns from his failed quest and wonders if he's good enough for you.

series masterlist | previous | next

seventeen-year-old luke castellan came face-to-face with death but against his better judgment, and the medical advice from lee who told him to lay in bed and heal, he stood up to drag himself across the floors of the infirmary to sit beside the bed where you were unconscious. 

thankfully, you were going to be okay. it would just take a few hours for the medicine to kick in until you regain consciousness. it was luke who took the brunt of the attack. he can feel the sticky bandages covered in his blood across his back and his face. luke managed to prop himself up on the small wooden chair. 

he’d grown taller and bigger over the years and the chair was definitely not the most comfortable place for him, especially not with all his wounds, but he had to make do. he couldn’t stay on his bed, across the way from you while you slept alone. in the off chance that you’ll wake up before the 5-hour estimate they’d given him about the medicine, he didn’t want you to wake up without someone next to you. 

you weren’t even supposed to be there. he didn’t even know how you’d found him, but he should’ve known better when you looked at him with that look in your eye, the look that he got from you whenever you were about to save him from something, even if he didn’t know he’d be in trouble yet. you always seemed to show up just when he needed you– like his own personal guardian angel. 

he thought back to when he was fourteen and you let him tag along with you, oliver, and beth to the athena cabin because you noticed he was anxious to be left alone. you didn't even know what he'd gone through then, but you somehow knew exactly what to say, what to do.

he thought of his first full summer at camp. he'd just turned fifteen, before he was named head counselor, and he accidentally set the shed that the satyrs used to house their gardening tools on fire. the stolls managed to sneak in fireworks and the three of them thought the perfect welcome for the summer campers was a firework show. he wandered into the shed in search of a lighter and found one tucked underneath a tablecloth, probably left by one of the older campers when they smoked.

between him and his siblings, they shared one and a half brain cells so he, stupidly, tried the lighter while he peeked his head under the tablecloth and the whole thing erupted in flames before he could even react. thankfully, you were already out looking for him when you noticed he slipped away from dinner.

you helped him put the fire out before it got too bad and paid for the damage with the few drachmas you had saved up. luke managed to pay you back after picking up random tasks for campers for a small fee, although, you argued with him that it was okay, that he didn't owe you anything, but at that point, luke figured he owed you much more than just a few drachmas.

chiron and mr. d ended up loving the idea of the fireworks show and asked who was responsible for the festivities. you stood up and pointed at him, grinning like you were happy he was finally getting the recognition he deserved. he didn't think he deserved the credit, it would've ended in a shitshow if it weren't for you.

he was promoted to head counselor a week later.

luke fell asleep hunched over your sleeping body, sleeping on the side of his face without the fresh scar. he woke up to the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp a few hours later. he sat up, immediately holding your hand between his own. 

“you’re up,” he croaked out, rubbing the tears away from his eyes, “how are you, angel?” 

“feelin’ great, bub,” you faked a smile, exhaustion evident on your features. “how are you? you’re the one who got attacked by a dragon.” 

luke flinched at the memory, holding your hand up to his lips, “don’t worry about me. i’m good.” 

“let me worry about you, hm?” you mumbled. “i’m always worried about you.” 

“you shouldn’t have been there,” he sighed. his anger against his father was rising again. “it was my quest. you’re not even allowed to go on other people’s quests anymore, remember?” 

“you’re dumb if you think i was going to let you go into a suicide mission alone, luke,” you replied. you moved over on the small bed, motioning him to join you. “needed to make sure you were gonna be okay.” 

“i don't want that if it's at your expense,” he mumbled, following your request. you laid your head on his chest, allowing him to push you closer to him. his hands found the ends of your hair, twirling it around his fingers, “don’t know what i would’ve done if you–” 

he couldn’t finish his sentence. he didn’t want to think about it. he let himself be delusional, ignoring the reality of being a demigod. luke wanted to beat the odds with you, get out of here with you, mostly unscathed. he didn’t want to think about a life without you in it. he couldn’t. 

“hey, it’s okay,” you placed his hand over your heart, letting him feel it beat. “i’m okay, see?” 

your optimism was something luke admired about you. the way you viewed life like a gift despite everything you'd gone through. he wished he could see things the way you did, but he didn't understand it.

he looked at you, thinking of how you'd just risked your life for him, and he couldn't stop himself from feeling so hopeless. this was not the life you deserved.

he let out a breath, turning to face the ceiling, “i don’t understand how you’re not furious at the gods right now.” 

“there’s so many horrible things to be angry at, luke,” you whispered, placing a kiss on his bruised hands. “i’m mad at the gods for allowing this to happen to all of us, their children. i am angry luke, but i have been given so much because of it, too.” 

he stayed silent, letting you continue. he felt his breaths even out as he listened to the sound of your voice. 

“i grew up as an only child until i met my siblings. now, i love them. i can’t imagine not knowing them,” you smiled, “the rest of the campers, they can be a handful sometimes, but there isn’t a boring day in my life. there’s always adventure and fun and love.” 

luke turned to look at you to find that you were already staring at him. even in the dark, he can make out the look on your face. that face that made him feel safe so effortlessly. 

“i met you because of them,” you continued, placing a soft kiss on his lips, trying not to put too much pressure on him knowing he was still healing, “there are so many things i am angry at the gods for, but knowing you… well, it makes up for it, don’t you think?” 

he didn’t know if he had a complex enough vocabulary or if there were any words in any language that could scratch the surface of how he felt about you. you were in every part of him. he thought of you, your eyes when he woke up to the sun shining on his face, bright and hopeful because there was a new day ahead. he thought of you, your lips when he tasted the fruits they served during meals, sweet and addicting. he thought of you, your smile during his nightmares, safely pulling him back to reality, a life where you were there with him. 

it’s only been you since he met you. he had a feeling it’s only been you in every life he lived before this one. and it will only be you in every life after it. 

luke settled, “i love you.” 

“i love you,” you replied, kissing him once more. “let’s rest now, hm? want to be able to kiss you proper.” 

he couldn’t help but laugh, shutting his eyes as his body succumbed to the tiredness in his limbs, “me too.” 

lee fletcher found you two tangled in the covers, sleeping soundly, when he entered the infirmary the morning after. usually, he’d scold his patients for disobeying orders, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the rules right now, not when you and luke looked so peaceful sleeping beside each other. 

word about luke’s failed quest spread quickly after your return. the looks of pity were starting to get to luke. you noticed that he’d been distant, too, opting to not let you clean up his scars when he replaced the bandages. he only went in to see lee when he knew the infirmary was absolutely clear of people. he stopped letting you touch his face and run your hands down his back. at first, you chalked it up to the fact that he was healing and the wounds probably still hurt to the touch, but after a conversation with lee, where you slyly asked how luke’s healing process was going, you knew it wasn’t that anymore. 

lee let you know that the wounds were healing faster than anticipated. new tissue was replacing his damaged ones and that the cream he prescribed luke would ensure that the scars would be faint, noticeable, but not as intense as they could’ve been. you walked away from your conversation with the boy with your shoulders sagged and your smile a little less bright. there was something else going on with luke and he wasn’t telling you about it. 

when luke returned to the hermes cabin, tired from his three-hour-long training, he expected the cabin to be empty with all his siblings away at the campfire, but instead, he found you, tidying up around the area of his bed. he shut the door quietly, hoping to have a few moments where he could just admire you. 

he’d been avoiding you more than usual so he hadn’t gotten the chance to spend as much time with you as he’d liked to. he doesn’t remember the last time he hugged you longer than a quick side hug before he was jogging to move onto his next activity or the last time he’d been able to have a conversation with you about something other than counselor duties. luke missed you. he missed you a lot, but he felt so disgusted with himself that he couldn't bring himself to be in your presence. 

the scars were healing fine, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d think he was hideous and weak and a failure. it seemed like everyone else at camp did, anyway. the scar on his face stretched from his eye all the way down to his jaw. every time he looked in the mirror, it reminded him of what he wasn’t able to do, of what he put you through. it made him sick to remember it. 

the wounds on his back started on his shoulder blades and ended in the middle of his spine. it wasn’t a good look. not even all his trainings and his workouts to get his back defined could hide the scar. 

his wounds were now the first thing people noticed when they saw him. he hated it. 

he wasn’t naive enough to believe that he was the most attractive guy in the world, but at least before the quest, he felt like he was average. he was tall enough, built adequately, and he wasn’t terrible to look at. but now, it felt like he was knocked down a few pegs. if he thought he didn’t deserve you back then, he sure as hell knew he didn’t deserve you now. 

he watched you fluff his pillows and fold his blankets before he decided to make himself known. he walked over to you, placing a quick kiss on the back of your head, before walking to his dresser to pull out his clothes for bed. 

“been waiting for you,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his torso. you gently placed your head on his back, listening to the sound of his breaths pick up. “where have you been?” 

“training,” he replied, removing your arms from him. you placed your head so close to his wounds and he was sure you could feel the bumps of his flesh through his thin camp shirt. “why aren’t you at the campfire?” 

you frowned, sitting on his bed, “because you weren’t there.” 

“you can still go and hang out with your friends,” he reasoned, directing his head at an awkward angle so you don’t see the scarred side of his face. the bandage on his face fell off a few hours ago. he forgot to stop by the infirmary to ask lee for some more.

“don’t wanna hang out with them right now, luke,” you said, eyebrows furrowed. “i want to hang out with you.” 

“i’m really tired right now, angel,” luke turned around again, pretending to dig through his drawers for something. he tilted his head low, hoping that his shadow would hide his face. “maybe tomorrow or something?” 

“okay,” you sounded defeated. luke heard his sheets ruffle from under you as you got up. he followed the sound of your footsteps all the way to the door. he waited for the sound of the door to open, but it never came. instead, it was your voice, hushed, “luke, i don’t understand.” 

he lifted his head, “huh?” 

“i said i don’t understand,” your voice was trembling. luke couldn’t help but face you then. your eyes welled up with tears, bottom lip quivering as you tried to speak. “what’s going on with you?” 

luke clenched his jaw, “nothing.” 

“there’s something going on,” you rebutted, walking closer to him. you stopped in your tracks as he took a step back. you let the tears fall, “i can usually sense what’s going on with people but with you right now, i just can’t. i-it’s like i’m so blinded by how i feel about you that instead of understanding what’s going on with you, i can only focus on what i could’ve done wrong.” 

“you haven’t done anything wrong,” luke licked his lips, wanting nothing else but to hold you in his arms. he was fighting back the tears now, too. the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry. he sniffled, “i’m just tired, angel.” 

“that’s never stopped you before,” you said. “even before we were dating, you always found me just for the sake of being with me. we'd talk nonsense until we lost our voices, and then we'd sit in silence together. you used to sit and wait in the back of the art room until my lesson was over just so we could come back here and be together until it was lights out.” 

“that was then.” 

“what changed?” you asked, voice hoarse. your tears were unstoppable now. you rubbed your eyes, trying to get a clearer vision of the boy in front of you. he was hidden in the shadows of the dim light. “do you.. do you not feel the same about me anymore?” 

“no, never that,” he shook his head, eyes wide. he tossed his clothes on his bed, stepping closer to you. “i love you, you know this.” 

“so come back to me, luke,” you cried, taking a tiny step closer to him. “come home to me.” 

luke groaned, falling to his knees. he buried his face in his hands, sobbing at your words. you ran to him, engulfing him in a hug, as his sobs shook his entire body. he mumbled incoherent words into his palms. 

“what is it, luke?” you asked him, peppering kisses on the crown of his head.

he took a deep breath, “i’m not ready for you to realize that i’m not good enough for you anymore. i’m not ready to lose you.” 

“oh my love,” you sighed, prying his hands away from his face. he turned his cheek, biting his bottom lip. you weren’t having it anymore. you grabbed his face in your hands forcing him to look at you, “what’s gotten into you?” 

“i know you see it,” he said, voice cracking. his eyes were focused on the wall behind you. “the scar. i know you see it.” 

“and?”

“it’s hideous, angel,” he confessed. a single tear rolled down his cheek. you were quick to wipe it away, “i know what people say about me now.” 

“is this what all of this was about?” you questioned, pressing your forehead to his.

luke closed his eyes. he missed you so much. “yes.” 

you removed your hands from his face and let your index finger trace the line down his scar. he sucked in a breath despite himself. he wanted to hide and shy away from you, your touch left him vulnerable and open, but he knew there was no need for that anymore. you pressed soft kisses all over his face, cradling his jaw in your palm. you kissed the lids of his eyes, the crease between his eyebrows, the points of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, until you got to his scar. 

you were even gentler now, luke didn’t know how it was possible. he could feel your lips ghosting over the raised flesh, apprehensive. he squeezed the skin of your hip, giving you the okay. with that, your lips touched his cheek, a kiss with purpose. 

luke shuddered at the feeling. why did he deprive himself of this? from the love in your touch and the emotions behind your actions? he pulled you closer, trying to make up for lost time. 

you sighed happily in his grasp, pulling yourself away from his cheek to place a kiss on his lips. all the air was knocked out of luke’s lungs. he’d kissed you a million times before, but this felt different. luke knew you loved him, you said it more than he deserved to hear it, and of course, he felt your love in everything that you did with him; in stolen touches in the middle of crowds, in corny jokes you made just to see him smile, in your words when you tell him he’s more than enough, but in this kiss, it was all of those moments, all of what you felt for him, amplified.

he couldn’t breathe. it was too much, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you, not when you were kissing him like this. not when you were anchoring him back to where he belonged. not when you were reminding him of everything he could have if he just let himself have it. 

eventually, you pulled away from him, tear-stained cheeks and pink, raw lips. luke thought you looked incredible. even after all this time, over a year of being together and over three years of knowing each other, your cheeks still flushed because of him. a small smile made its way to his lips, you still had that effect on him too. 

you got up from the floor, offering your hand to luke. he gladly accepted it and allowed you to lead him to his bed. you slipped off your shoes, your signature cartoon owl socks on full display as you laid on his bed. he joined you, pulling you close to his chest. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, fingers playing with the string of his camp necklace. 

the campfire was coming to an end and soon the cabin would be filled with his loud, rowdy, siblings, who he grew to love, but for now, he’ll get lost in this moment with you. he’ll wander aimlessly in this feeling, the feeling of his girl asleep on his chest, a hand over his heart to remind him that she's still here. he’ll let himself get lost for a few more minutes, after all, he’ll always find his way back home to you. 

[mintmatcha]

Part One: Baby Blue

cw: mentions of abuse, sexual encounter with dubious consent. a character driven piece

It was the first day of summer.

Fireworks scattered across the sky, just far enough away for the fat of their blooms to be concealed by the inky treeline. They whistled up, they fizzled down, forming a slow pattern that cut through the cicada song. The sound sizzled like fire and the night burned nearly as hot.

Cursed energy moved the same way fireworks did: unpredictably and variation in patterns. Fractions of light that flitted between almost everything, it flitted and flowed in an unsteady beat, dissipating into the air and forming fractals that spiraled out into nothing. When items got close enough to each other, they fully connected, sparked webbings that looped and laced endlessly a beautiful and lonely world for only Gojo Satoru's eyes to see.

The meeting house seemed to cling to remnants of curses, its walls tacky with faded imprints. Nothing more than ghosts of people who had once past through and the brighter, soft haze of you.

There was sorcerer somewhere in your bloodline, but only the silhouette of it was left for you, broad strokes with no real power behind it. When he was young, the men on the grounds had whispered about what a shame it was that you weren't like your father.

Sometimes, he agreed. Other times the sentence sat heavy in his stomach.

Gojo pushed off the shoulders of his yukata, but being bare chested did nothing to break the sweat. Heat still hung heavy on his skin. This house was not only stagnant in energies; wind passed over the tree tops, but didn't reach down to touch anything air on the property. 

A fuzzy, invisible string connected and Gojo knew you were near. He turned from the window before you even opened the door.

"Master Gojo." You bowed as you spoke, gaze cast low to the floor. The shadows moved heavy on your face and, for that moment, you looked like your mother in all the ways Gojo knew you would hate.

Over the years and infrequent meetings, he had learned a few things about you. Breakfast and lunch were your responsibilities, but dinner was deemed too important to be yours. You didn't sleep well at night, so you watched the stars and thought about everything and nothing.  The fall weather always made you sneeze, your mother always made you cry.

That night, your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, more so than they usually were.

"Master, huh?" He cocks his head and a droplet of sweat follows the new curve of his neck, trailing down, down, down. "Kind of kinky to call me that when we're alone."

Your eyes followed the beadlet for a moment and a pride swelled in his chest. He was used to women looking - they've been vying for his attention since he was too young to understand what those gentle touches and long glances meant. Power attracted desire, even long before he could reciprocate.

The way you looked at him feels different. It felt earned.

"You're still a cunt, aren't you?" you breathed, incredulous.

And suddenly, it felt like you'd really entered the room. Those fractals rotated, sparks spun. For once, he was thankful to be the only one who could see this version of the world. If anyone else could, he might have been embarrassed at how palpable his joy really was.

"How's my favorite maid?" He patted the porch next to where he sat,  "Sit with me. It's an order."

Just as you always did, you obeyed, walking across the room and coming down by his side. Usually, you'd have shed your traditional garments for something more casual to sleep in, but that night you were still dressed properly, with skirts pulled tight and neckline high. An unfamiliar scent clung to your skin, something much too mature for someone as young as you. Your mother wasn't someone to wear perfume, so he imagined you stole it from in between the pages of a magazine.

"You didn't bring your pretty friend this time."

Gojo wasn't aware of the silence between you until you broke it. A myriad of orange sparkles across the sky, fading out just as quickly as it had arrived.

"Oh? Which one?"

You stretched out, extending your legs past the perimeters of your skirts and pulling them back again. The fold of your leg pushed the fabric up, exposing much more thigh than Gojo is ready for. You've been beautiful since you were a child - beautiful in innocent ways, beautiful inherently- but you'd grown past that.  You were beautiful in ways that made him want.

"The one with the fox eyes," you said, “Geto Suguru.”

The recent memory of betrayal was bitter between Gojo's teeth. The news of it all had spread so quickly, ripping through whispers and gasps, that he hadn’t thought of the possibility of someone not knowing.

"Nah." He sucked the word through his teeth. It would have been impossible, but he swore he tasted gunpowder and sulfur on the air, “We aren’t friends anymore.”

You nodded as if you could possibly understand. 

"Gojo, I'm here to ask something from you."

You twisted to face him, eyes set strong and serious. Even in the dim of night he could make out how you sucked in air through your pursed lips to steady yourself.

"Have you ever..." You walked forward on your hands, pressing into his personal space. The tips of your fingers brushed against the sides of his thighs, so delicate he could barely feel it through the fabric. "Been with anyone?"

He scoffed and chuckled at the same time, almost choking on his own spit. Attention was not new, but touch? Touch was unexplored. 

"Yeah," he lied. He moved in sync with you, leaning back on to his elbows to make space for your body to slot above his. It was unnatural and strange, but welcome all the same,  "And I’m good at it.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you breathed. He tilted his chin up, closing the gap between your faces as much as he dared; any closer and it would have shattered the cocky swagger he feigned. It was you who broke the tension, slipping your fingers under the rim of his glasses and lifting them off, “And you’re lying through your teeth.”  

The air pulsed with color - the deep blues and reds of his own energy absorbing yours for a moment, so vivid that it was all he could see. 

“Is that why you came here?” he said, conceit dripping from his voice, “Come to steal the great Gojo Satoru’s V-card?”

“No," you replied, “I’m here to give you mine.”

You discarded your shirt. With an ease, your bra followed suit, tits exposed to the night air. It struck him that you were the first woman he'd ever seen naked in real life, imperfect in all the ways porn hadn't prepared him for, but incredibly, wonderfully real.

"Well?" 

Gojo realized he had fallen still. You were there, waiting for an answer. 

He would've been stupid to say no. Men don’t turn down beautiful women, men don’t say no to sex. Despite that, a bitterness clung to the back of his throat. He swallowed it down as he brought his hand to the elastic band of his underwear and pushed it down.

"If Geto was here, would you have sat on his cock instead?"

You don't hesitate. "No, I don't want my first time to be with a stranger."

That struck him as odd; despite the occasional encounter, he barely knew you at all, and yet you were straddling his waist, skirts gathered at your hips. If anything, the relationship between you was nothing more than a childish dream, something Gojo held on to when he needed to feel human.

"I thought it'd be…" You cocked your head as you gripped his penis, much too tight to be comfortable,  "Firmer."

"Ouch," Gojo cooed, only part of his anguish performative, "Give a man a chance to warm up."

"We don't have time for a warm up," you insisted, "He'll kill me if he finds me here."

Before he could question, you moved again. Your panties were suddenly pushed to the side and he was suddenly very aware of just how close you were, core pressed against core. His body reacted the way you wanted it too, but that sick, bile taste rose again-

In some ways,  Geto tore holes when he left, nibbled, frayed edges where trust should be. Whatever was between the two of you was different than whatever Gojo had with him, but those jagged pieces ached the same. 

"At least-"  Gojo fumbled forward, grasping for your face and any semblance of control. Once he had you, long fingers completely covering your cheeks and buried into your hair, Gojo tugged you close, noses bumping, "Kiss me first, damn." 

When his lips met yours, you laughed. It's not what he expected, not what he imagined all those times the thought had crossed his mind. It was wild and arrhythmic and loud, uncontrolled and unrefined, so much so that he had to stop so your teeth didn't clash against his.  When he dipped in for another kiss, you didn't stop, laughing against his lips and vibrating his face with sweet sounds. It's so sweet that he swore he could taste it, thick and lingering like honey, a flavor he hoped he could sear into his mouth and chest, never to forget. 

Then, the taste of salt tinted his tongue. 

Gojo pulled back just far enough to see your tears shimmer in the afterglow of fireworks. Suddenly, you didn't seem grown; you were just a child in the same ways he was. Comfort did not come naturally to him, instead locking his joints still in shock.

"Shit, you crying?" he said without thinking. 

Wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand, you tried to dip back in for more, but a firm hand from Gojo denied you. That was the final straw; you slumped.

"I don't-" You huffed in, sobs trembling in the corners of your voice, "I'm sorry, I don't wanna do this-"

Gojo knew the taste of mania. The high, the bad choices, all of it followed by the crashing, horrible lows; he should have known something was wrong with you much earlier. 

“I’m a little insulted you only want to fuck me because you’re having a mental break down- oi, quick cryin’, I’m kidding," He insisted, but you just kept sobbing, each moment growing louder and louder. When you were younger, your mother would bruise the backs of your thighs with a wooden spoon when she found you talking to guests when it was ‘unearned.’ It was fucked up then, but now, in his arms, it felt much, much worse. If he wasn’t here, would you have cried on your own? Would you hold in your feelings in silence?

“Shh,” Gojo patted your side, “Just say what's wrong.”

The night sat deep, the fireworks gone and the moon only a sliver. Even with his blackout glasses off, he can barely see you; the limited magic you carried dimmed itself down to nothing but dim. Like those glow in the dark stars kids hung on ceilings, he thought, a light so low he wasn’t sure if it was really there.

"Satoru." 

Oh. That sat strange in his stomach. Satoru: so strange, so simple.

It struck him that he didn’t remember your name.The whispers about you were always Maid, Daughter, Idiot, Useless. 

"Satoru, I'm getting married." 

His stomach twisted again. No ring sat on your finger, no excitement laced your voice. 

"Oh, shit. When?" Gojo said, “To who?”

"In ten hours," you said miserably, "Some Zen'in cuck//."

Gojo barked out a laugh at that. 

"It's not funny!” You were always funny, even when you didn’t mean to be. “They paid my mom for me and this stupid house and now I’m gonna have to spread my legs for some- some- some-.”

It took a moment for Gojo to swallow this. Arranged marriage was supposed to be for the elites, people who carried some sort of weight with their family name, but it wasn’t uncommon for the Zen’in clan to use it to their advantage. This meeting house was a neutral ground, holy in the same ways as a shrine; if you -a beautiful girl with just enough potential to guarantee a curse-user heir- were the consolation prize for owning property…

He doubted a man would turn down this deal.

“Can’t you just… say no?”

You scoffed and covered your chest, suddenly aware of your own nudity like Eve bit the apple.

“Not all of us are important, Satoru." 

Since childhood, Gojo had thought of you as normal. You were human, flesh and blood in the simplest, purest of ways, but that spark he had loved years ago had long been stamped out by the world. 

And Gojo hadn’t treated you much better. Teasing you through the years, claiming you as a ‘girlfriend’, never learning your name; it was like you were a doll, a simple plaything he could abandon here and return to only when he felt like it.

Geto flashed in his mind for a moment. He’d revel in the ways you saw yourself deserving of this.

Riko would have liked you, he thought. It was a shame you never got to meet.

The world shouldn’t be allowed to cannibalize both of you.

“You should go.”

You pulled away and watched him with wild, wild eyes. Gojo thought that, for the first time in his life, someone might be seeing more clearly than him.

“What?”

He gestured into the forest. The boundaries of it had disappeared into the night, forming a single neverending block. The whole world was in that nothingness, waiting for the night to end or for you to explore it.

"You should run and never, ever come back to this shithole.”

You didn’t even consider it, drawing back away from him.You clutched for your shirt, pulling it back on sloppily. 

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.” you press, “Where am I going to go? What am I going to do?”

He didn’t know the answer to that. It was possible you didn’t even have a proper education, let alone experience outside these walls. The human world wouldn’t be kind to you-

But this world never offered you any kindness either.

“I dunno,” he said, “But it’s gotta be better than staying."

.

The next morning, the buzz started before sunrise. The anger, followed by panic. For the first time maybe ever, he heard others call for you by name, searching every nook and cranny for a girl that had long disappeared. Your mother cried, but Gojo doubted the tears were really for you.

About midday, a dark haired man ducked into his room, wrinkles deepened in fury. 

“Have you seen that-” The stranger bit back a curse, “That maid?”

He said maid the same way Gojo used to, with unnecessary weight to the word. If he had less sense, Gojo would have corrected him, but instead he shrugged. 

“Why would I pay attention to a housekeeper?”

Luckily, the bra you had forgotten last night was tucked into his luggage already.

As tiny chaos unfurled, Gojo hung onto the memory of your figure disappearing into the night, only sparing him the smallest of glances before you were gone. 

That was the last time he’d ever see you, he knew. 

He was equally happy and horrified by that.

[werewolfnightwalker]

BOOM!

CRACK!

POP!

Fireworks burst in the sky above Fukuoka, lighting up the night as people rang in the new year. There was cheer, booze, and music all through the streets…

But not in Hawks' apartment. Not in his dark closet. Not in the pile of blankets and pillows collected there. Not in the far back corner.

No, there it was dark, with only the light from a laptop screen to provide anything to see by. There, it was quiet, other than the muffled sound of audio coming from a pair of earbuds.

There, Hawks was curled up in Dabi's arms, peeking at the laptop and the movie playing on it; an effort to distract the overwhelmed hero from the loud sounds outside. Even with his feathers shed and sealed in a padded, soundproof basket, the occasional CRACK managed to reach them and Hawks would flinch. He'd burrow himself impossibly deeper into Dabi's arms, his chest, and Dabi would tighten his grip. He'd pull the blanket up, pet Hawks' hair and press a wayward kiss to his temple.

Hawks couldn't hear him with the earbuds in, but the message was clear:

"I've got you. I'm here. You're safe."

And when the fireworks finally stopped, some time in the wee hours of the morning, Dabi looked down at the sleeping hero in his arms and kissed his head again, whispering one last message before he fell asleep, too.

"Happy New Years, Keigo."

[blondiest]

mello isn't dead: neallo edition

hi! to accompany my rec list mello isn't dead, a small collection of post-kira fics in which mello either survives or comes back from the dead, i am going to list out here the works that i have which fit this criteria <3

my only one, my smoking gun

[part 1 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 3.3k

For as long as he can recall, he’s ached over Near. It wasn’t always like this, though; he didn’t realize he wanted Near until it was too late to actually have him. He should be grateful, really, because he’s been able to linger here after death, and that’s more than he deserves, but God, Mello would give anything to kiss him just once.

heaven is a place on earth with you

[part 2 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

There is no blood or body of Christ, no priest and no pews, but it’s here and now that Mello finally rediscovers a long-lost sliver of faith. Hands on Near’s hips, Mello lowers his face and presses his mouth to Near’s soft abdomen. “I love you,” he murmurs, head bowed and eyes shut as if in prayer.

i know i’m gonna lose you (but god, i don’t want to)

[part 1 of together (always)]

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Near’s bedroom— her tidy little suite in her untidy little makeshift headquarters in a high-rise hotel in Tokyo— is lit only by the shine of the city and the glow of the moon. Because the moon is full and because the city is bright, Mello can see her perfectly. Every little hair on her arms and legs catch the light as she sheds her soft, simple bra. The only thing Mello has taken off so far are her gloves. -- In which Mello rings in 2010 with some good old-fashioned lesbian sex and a minor emotional crisis. prequel to it's you and me, that's my whole world.

it’s you and me, that’s my whole world

[part 2 of together (always)]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Once she reaches the first floor and steps out of the elevator, Near hears a voice floating down the hall. It’s a woman’s voice, so it must be Lidner, but the pitch of it and the cadence of speech seems painfully similar to the way Mello talked, even without being able to hear the actual words. The closer she gets, the more it sounds like her dead lover, and Near curses how cruel her mind’s tricks are. She has to grit her teeth and breathe in deep to get herself to push through the door into the main office, feeling almost nauseous with grief again already. A blonde woman in a red winter jacket stands with her back to Near, but she turns when the toy in Near’s hand clatters to the ground. Mello’s eyes are tired, underlined by dark circles, but she grins. “Hey, Near.”

starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights

[part 1 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 930

Near has a nightmare on the flight back to New York after the end of the Kira case; Mello, still tipsy off of the red wine they served in first class, is unexpectedly tender.

fireworks somewhere far away

[part 2 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2k

It’s the fourth of July. Or, rather, it’s still the fourth of July in the United States, which is where they live, but they’re in Madrid at the moment, so technically where they are it’s the fifth. It’s not hard math to figure out what time it is back home— it’s a little before six in the morning here, so it’ll be a little before midnight in New York. Somewhere on the West Coast or in the Rocky Mountains, though, there are fireworks going off. That’s what Near is thinking when Mello kisses her for the first time.

early arrival

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k

It’s one in the morning and Near is wide awake, talking to Mello in hushed tones as the other passengers sleep soundly around them. According to the small screen on the back of the seat in front of him, they’re more than halfway through the flight, but it’s far from almost-over— it will be another three hours before they touch down in London.

there’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 975

The snow angels are, in all honesty, an excuse, a shameless attempt to get Near alone, to talk with him away from all these fucking people. He didn’t expect so many of their classmates to come back to Wammy’s for the holidays, but maybe he should have— after all, he hates this place, and yet here he is, half-drunk and dragging his ex-rival-turned-ex-something-else out into the cold.

[voidartisan]

More Ideas for TCW Modern AU

No war no drama just a wholesome family sitcom

There is DEFINITELY a roadtrip at some point. Ideally all the clones are shoved into one van and have invited Anakin and Ahsoka and maybe Obi-Wan and Plo to join them

There's a plot point about Korkie getting his driver's license, or Anakin losing his, or both

Ahsoka runs for student council against Lux Bonteri

Yoda teaches the neighborhood kids martial arts and the clones get an "I'll Make a Man Out of You" style training montage

They try to throw a surprise birthday party for Satine but inevitably bungle it somehow

Satine, Padme and Ahsoka have a spa day and Anakin gets arrested

Korkie plays matchmaker

Anakin definitely has a car in the garage that he's working on but has to go to ridiculous lengths to get parts for

Lux, Ahsoka, Korkie, and Barriss all get assigned to the same group for a school project

Fives brings home an espresso machine and all the clones are vibrating at the speed of sound within two days. Cody and Rex have to lock it in the attic and eventually defend it like the last two survivors in a zombie apocalypse movie. Fives sees that it has gone too far and sells it on ebay

Bo-Katan is Korkie's Cool Aunt who lets him do things Satine would not approve of. She occasionally shows up for a couple days with no notice and weirdly prescient gifts for her nephew, crashes on the couch for a night, and then disappears the next morning.

Obi-Wan stress bakes

Obi-Wan and Satine decide to take a week-long vacation to celebrate their anniversary, leaving Anakin in charge. This proves to be a Bad Idea and Plo has to save the day

Lux, Ahsoka, Korkie, Anakin and Barriss go ghost hunting in the abandoned house down the street (all the spooky stuff is just Yoda messing with them)

Rex is constantly looking for excuses to stay over for dinner because both Satine and Obi-Wan are excellent cooks. most of his brothers are... less so.

There's a running gag about Yoda's garden being attacked by demon rabbits that can chew through chicken wire. It's heavily implied that the clones are behind this so that Plo can be the Best Gardener In The Neighborhood, but the bunnies are actually just Like That

Obi-Wan has one of those four-person chessboards that he pulls out on family game nights when Anakin isn't home. Satine is the reigning champion.

Barriss sleeps over and Ahsoka begs everyone to be normal but the fire deparment ends up having to get involved

The clones never discuss it but there's a jar in the background stuffed with coins and bills labeled 'dirt bike fund'

There's a community talent show for some reason. Korkie spends the entire episode doing unrelated and increasingly bizarre things. When anyone asks him about it he says he's preparing for his act. Quinlan keeps trying to get Obi-Wan to do a sword-fighting demonstration with him. The only performance we see in full is Fives's theatrical rendition of "oh where is my hairbrush". All we know about Korkie's act is that he leaves the stage to thunderous applause and Satine and Obi-Wan are in the audience holding hands and shedding tears of pride and joy.

So much potential for holiday episodes

Grandpa Dooku turns up unannounced for thanksgiving dinner (extra tension provided by the fact the Obi-Wan is clearly the favorite grandchild)

Ahsoka, Korkie and Lux try to catch a halloween vandal that turns out to be Barriss

4th of July shenanigans (with fireworks)

Valentine's Day episode where Anakin is consistently foiled in attempts to slip away to see Padme by Ahsoka looking for boy advice because Bariss thinks Lux has a crush on her. Subplot with Obi-Wan and Satine trying to have their first romantic dinner date in like three years but things KEEP COMING UP.

Sentimental Father's Day episode where Anakin and Obi-Wan remember Qui-Gon, and Ahsoka and Korkie attempt to find the PERFECT gifts for Plo and Obi-Wan, respectively (Ahsoka has already found her gift for Obi-Wan, it's that one card that says "what is a dad? you. you is a dad." she knows he'll secretly treasure it), and think they've failed miserably but everything turns out okay and it's very wholesome and a little cheesy.

Wholesome christmas episode where Anakin and Padme have their gift of the magi moment and Ahsoka has to hide that she accidentally found out what Plo is getting her and Satine and Korkie and Obi-Wan make a ridiculoulsy elaborate gingerbread house to bond and relax and the clones and Quinlan have a disastrous holiday light competition (Cody gets to be a little bit feral in this one. as a christmas gift. to himself)

Next season someone is sabotaging the light competition. It turns out to be Obi-Wan, who just wanted to bake cookies and put up his lights in peace like a normal person, which he finds extremely difficult when his neighbors are SCREAMING AT EACH OTHER in their front yards

Cliffhanger at the end of a season where Padme finds out that she's pregnant with twins.

We find out that Leia and Luke call Obi-Wan "Uncle Ben" because his name is really hard to pronounce for two-year-olds and everything they said came out sounding like Ben anyway

When the twins get older there's a very popular clothing brand called Rebel Scum and they get a shirt for Obi-Wan so that he can "be hip with the youngsters." (quoting Luke)

[env0writes]

Spilled Inktober, 10.15.23 “Morning, Dove"

The sun rises, as it always does Without a care or concern for the world Shedding light on atrocity, across each And every wakeless city Ceaseless marching on With burning hands Indifferent or thoughtless Whichever is worse, or full of more malice There was a time when the sun brought hope Turning monsters into bed frames and rubble Just as it turned terror into fireworks Bursting in red, flowers bloom in my head When we laughed and we ate Tore my bread, dripping with oil and love And placed it in your mouth This was holy to me There was a time when the sun brought excuses Gave reasons to strip and lay bare by your side Running through the streets to the water Before the night came crashing down Hammering winds and storm clouds Rushing us back into our clothes, indoors There was a time when the sun made us cowards Each day for granted Passing confessionals and concessions, all Emptied– how long have the streets been empty The sky too, not a cloud Why, sun, why do you continue to rise? Over this sinking city? And make me see these things Without you– by my side There was a time when the sun stole you Into that bright embrace, your fingers slipped from mine And daylight turned to night in that instant Where bed frames and rubble and men became monsters Fireworks and festivities, shouts of joy, no more pursued Those burning hands of light of white bright burning might Bade me farewell from day and you There was a time the sun showed cowardice No longer shall I follow that cosmic example The night is coming and I will stand to greet it And with its arrival– you Will take me into your arms once more In some other far off place Where we can say, “I love you” once again I now understand the the sun Is not running away from yesterday’s horrors But towards tomorrow’s possibility I wish to burn like the sun for you once more Ceaseless laid bare within this wakeless sleeping city From the rivers to the sea Reunited we shall be

@env0writes C.Buck Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist! Photo by @env0

[altrodent]

The Perfect Evening

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Hypersomnia (neutral) Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, Terrible 3am writing

Summary: You’ve always had a hard time staying awake, but something that annoys the hell out of you can inspire something else 👀

Word Count: 1104

Xavier is leaning against the doorframe smiling at me “Hey! Come on in.” He steps aside allowing me to walk in, and as soon as I pass the threshold of the door I see a few key things. A couch with a lot of cozy looking blankets and pillows with a laptop on the nearby coffee table, a canvas in the corner of the shed so dim that I can’t make out what it is, and lastly, I see a rose on one of the random tables he keeps his brushes. This is odd, maybe he needs me to help him with something?

I yawn as he grabs my shoulder to turn me towards him. “Sorry this was so sudden, I just really needed to do this and get this off my chest.” I tilt my head as he grabs my hands and walks me over to the canvas. I can only make out what it is when he pulls the string to the overhead light.

It’s a painting from a sweet, sweet memory I was all too familiar with: when I first arrived at nevermore, I was confused, alone and I spent a lot of time not interacting with others due to the fact that I was sleeping or trying to maintain a passing grade. When Wheems made it mandatory to go to the fair I thought I could hide just sleep through it, but a bunch of normie kids found me in the ally and started chasing me. Xavier ran after me, told me where to go, he was a lot faster on his feet than I was so he ended up just picking me up and eventually we made it to a secluded area with a perfect view of the amazingly timed fireworks. We both look at each other and let out a breathy-laugh. “Xavier” he held his hand out… it was the night we first met, the painting was an exact copy of that night. And now that I look back at it, I realize how close our faces were, how perfect that moment was, how human it made me feel.

“That was one of my favorite times with you, it still is.” I try to fight the smile that grows on my face as he places his hands on my shoulders and leans his head over next to mine. “What is all of this for, Xav?” He smiles “well, someone once told me, that if I truly like something- someone, I should do something about it and maybe I’d get a better result.” He has a sinister look behind his eyes “are you quoting me to me right now?” He chuckles “I don’t know, guess”

He shakes his head “what I’m trying to say is… I really like you, like a lot. Love, even.”

My eyes widen “I love the way you dress, I love the way you smile, I love the way you awkwardly approach me when you’re too afraid to ask if you can sleep on me during the free block, I love you-“ I don’t know what happened, but all I know is that something sparked and my hands flung to his face to pull his lips towards mine. After a while he relaxes into the kiss and smiles, this is what I’ve been missing, I’ve tried to overlook it because I never thought it could be… but here we are. We break the kiss “I’m guessing that means you feel the same way?” He smirks at me, a blush rising on my face “I love your stupid face, and your awful comedy, but I love you too Xav… no matter how frustrating you are.” He chuckles as he rests his forehead against mine before snaking his arms around my waist. I smile as I drape my arms over his shoulders and bury my face into his neck.

“Come on..” he whispers into my ear before guiding me to the plush luxury of a couch that I saw earlier. He plops onto the couch and swings his legs over before signaling me to lay with him. I rest my head on his chest, I can feel each breath, each beat of his heart, the cool breeze that slips through the slightly cracked window. Our legs entangle as he runs his hands through my hair.

I turn my head to the side and I see a little board on the floor with pinned sketches on it. I sit up a little to get a clearer look at it, Xavier sits up with me. “That probably looks… very creepy, but I promise, you’re just a good muse!” He smiles at me- damn that smile- whilst my gaze is still semi-focused on the board with sketches of me sleeping in odd places. “You are creepy… and I’m not a good muse I’m a great one” before I go back to smothering him with cuddle-love. He chuckles “You’re perfect.”

~

(A/N): Happy Holidays/New Year! I don’t know how to feel about this story… or really anything for that matter lol, I just really needed some good tooth rotting fluff during this very lonely winter break. I hope you enjoyed though if you made it this far 🥲

[thefrogswhospoke]

EVEN MORE TF2 HCS BC IT'S BEEN A BAD DAY AND THIS IS MY ONLY JOY

🛑This is just my opinions spilled out onto tumblr, you don't have to agree pls don't start an argument over my tf2 posts lol🛑

Who I think the tf2 mercs would be at a family summer bbq :))

pyro - littlest child, duh - chaotic ass youngest cousin running around with a knife/box of matches/other not allowed things

engineer - sorta crazy, fake rational uncle - has master the art of the polite Sothern smile - stands back and watches scout/pyro do dumb shit and only steps in once someone breaks an arm/the beer runs out

spy - WINE. AUNT. - OR the random relative no one speaks to or mentions - only shows up if alcohol and gossip is provided

heavy - contrary to popular belief for some reason: MOTHER, through and through - actually tries to keep the mercs out of too much danger to an extent

sniper - quiet/distanced older brother who was already in high school/college when his siblings were born - OR the quiet older cousin who's forced to watch the younger kids (pyro/scout) during family gatherings

scout - second youngest cousin - OR second OLDEST cousin who the youngest clings to and gets into trouble with

soldier - strange grandpa that screams at spaghetti and talks about the horrors of the [insert] war - makes bats for the younger children despite protests from their parents (actual thing my grandpa did lol)

demo - uncle who showed up to the family summer bbq already drunk - ends up wither sleeping outside face down in a wheelbarrow OR in the pool shed

medic - WINE MOM - or the relative that allows the little cousins (SCOUT/PYRO) access to whatever they need for their shenanigans (wanna scare your mom? here have a butcher knife. wanna light a tree on fire? i have illegal fireworks in my trunk.) - idk I think his bbg qualities are tainting my perception of him

anyways that's it, feel free to add more this is fun :)))

[eanotherdamnblog]

CW: panic attack

Something, maybe a firework or loud crash, causes Eddie to have flashbacks to his time serving. It’s happened before, but this time he was at home and unguarded by a work mindset, so he knows before it even starts that he’s going to have a panic attack. He instantly wants to go check on his son but he can’t move, too busy crouching at the kitchen counter and trying to figure out if it’s him breathing so heavily or someone else. It sounds too far away to be him. He feels vomit building in his throat, the sour sting of bile doing nothing to ground him and only reminding him more of the crash that gave him that damn medal. Eddie genuinely tries to breath and ground himself, but nothing can get past the thoughts of panic and adrenaline shooting through his body.

Until he feels hands on his face. Eddie knows he’s looking up, can see a person in front of him but his mind can’t decide if it’s a friend or a fellow soldier. The face speaks in a voice so calm and solid it feels like some angelic being is speaking to him in the middle of his torment. The voice tells him to look around and name five things. Eddie is confused but does as he’s told, always a good soldier even through his own panic. He barely registers that the things he’s pointing out wouldn’t be in a helicopter until he gets to the fourth one.

Microwave

Fridge

Spatula

Oven

Toaster

The next request is five colours, then four shapes and finally he is asked to name three people. Chris comes first, then Pepa, then finally,

“Buck.”

He’s still breathing heavily, but he can see Buck as clear as day in front of him. He’s calm with a slight panic in his eyes, big hands cupping Eddie’s face and thumbs rubbing his cheeks gently. Buck smiles at him and nods, “I’m here, Ed’s. You did so well, I’m so proud of you. Can you stand up for me?”

Buck takes him to check on a sleeping Chris to make sure he’s still there and okay, then helps him shed his clothes and wash of the sweat in the shower. Buck doesn’t seem to mind that he’s naked and just asks if he can wash his hair which Eddie agrees to. Buck helps him get into some soft clothes, then lays him down in bed and kisses his forehead. Eddie can’t help the panic when he starts to leave and grabs his hand a little too hard, “Buck-! Evan, please don’t leave me.”

Eddie wakes up the next morning to Bucks arms around his waist and warm breath on his neck.

[teethkid67]

your ask button is so threatening

anywyas. blcok party. been on the brain I’ve got to ask about tubbo and the manburg house. what is he doing in there i want to shake him around like a tin can full of beans listen to him rattle

IS IT ACTUALLY THREATENING I DONT MEAN FOR IT TO BE .....

this is what havok said btw . i think its accurate . bptubbo is like oobleck to me . you squeeze him and he hardens and then hes liquid and he melts

whats he doing in there ??? having the worst fucking time of his entire life bro my man is living in misery . havok said something about schlatt and q basically emptying out the house and starting fresh and i feel like that tracks . this house you basically grew up in (? more abt that later) and all of the Traces of these two dudes youve known and lived with being thrown out without any care . repainting walls and trashing furniture . wilburs bedroom?office getting a complete overhaul not even bothering to look through it . dragging the desk out through the front door leaving scratches on the hardwood cause its full of Paperwork and knicknacks that they dont look through . all of it on the curb . this house that is so arguably small and cramped and horrible suddenly way too spacious and WAY too clean (q cleans religiously the place is basically spotless , went from being the relative mess of two teenagers one manchild and one Adult guy to being the perfect clean of someone who doesnt know what to do with himself) . tubbo is having a terrible time

digging through the "trash" (everything from the house) in the middle of the night to take anything useful to tommy and wil . manuscripts and fucking taxes and books and letters . smuggling shit in the middle of the night so that his friends can literally stay alive . pawing through trash bags full of clothes to save favorite sweaters and jeans and coats . staying up late and dragging himself out to the woods and coming home before the sun rises. cant sleep bc hes too busy burying his head in couch cushions to drown out the domestic disputes . stealing money as discreetly as possible and smuggling cans of beans and soup and leftovers out through the back door when everyones asleep . new paint and old scratches . the same gallon of milk in the fridge the next morning . tommys shampoo still in the shower . i dont know . how can you be so lonely and so stuck at the same time . hell dimension

tubbos execution is really fucked up they zip tie his wrist to a trellis at the shed and hit him with an actual firework and he dies out there all alone . and then the next morning he wakes up with someones (qs?) suit jacket thrown over his face. and he runs back to the miserable fucking woods with a barely-noticeable knick in his nose and dried blood all over his face and blue fingers . and then he chills with tommy until the end of time

little empty house

[wrenhyperfixates]

Oneshot Masterlist

Movie Night: Loki prefers to keep to himself but one particularly persistent Avenger may be able to change his mind.

Something Wonderful: As you and Loki date, he finds more and more things to like about you.

Fireworks: After hearing your vacation is cancelled, Loki enlists some members of the Tower to help cheer you up.

Party Favors: Loki comes to the rescue when your nephews’ birthday party is on the brink of disaster.

Cafés, Croissants, and Captured Hearts: When Loki stumbles into your café, he is completely enamored with you, but will he be able to conquer his fears and move towards hope and happiness?

Arachnophobia: Living in the Tower surrounded by superheroes can make you think your own fears don’t matter. Luckily, Loki is there to save you, both from yourself and the spiders invading your room.

Be Good When I’m Gone: When Loki starts to go on missions across the galaxy, you and the trickster god do your best to keep your relationship alive.

Doubt Comes In: When depression and anxiety get the better of you, Loki is there to help you through it.

The Secret Admirer: When he is too nervous to confess his love for you, Loki decides to take on the role of secret admirer. Can a perfect night out with you give him the confidence he needs?

Full Disclosure: Thor has always been supportive of his brother’s love life, but Loki won’t tell him that he’s dating you. When Thor won’t stop setting him up on dates, Loki has to move past his fears and confess.

Oh, Calamity: Your death breaks Loki, and all he wants is for you to come back to him.

The Gift: Tony says no pets in the Tower, but since when has Loki ever listened to him?

No Cause for Alarm: Loki blames himself when you get hurt on a mission. Thor is convinced that the only way to ease his guilt is for him to confess his feelings for you, so he and Peter hatch a plan to get Loki to do just that.

Birthday Wish: It’s your birthday and all you want to do is spend a quiet day with Loki. Unfortunately, he’s decided to plan you a crazy party. Can you get your wish by the end of the night?

Unconditional: You deal with conflicting emotions as you try to understand why you deserve Loki’s love. When he finds out about your turmoil, he helps you heal.

In Your Arms: You comfort Loki one night after a particularly bad nightmare, and remind him that you’re not going anywhere.

To Fall in Love: Loki embraces an autumnal Midgardian tradition to tell you how he really feels.

Halloween: It’s Halloween, and you and Loki are excited to spend it together.

Forever Yours: You reject Loki when he asks to court you. When he learns the reason why, however, he sets out to make amends.

Pretty Venom: Loki pulls away from you, leaving you hurt and feeling alone. Perhaps an emotional confrontation is just what you need to get him to tell you how he really feels.

Through It All: The happiness of the night of your engagement to Loki is suddenly marred by the fact that your brother has been hurt. Loki, however, remains by your side and helps you through your pain.

Kissing Your Worries Away: A bad dream interrupts your sleep, but Loki steps in to save you from your demons.

Love Poison: You plan to take extreme measures to catch Loki’s eye. Unfortunately, things backfire terribly. Can something good come of the mess?

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas: It’s the Christmas season and Loki still has much to learn. Thankfully, he has his favorite little mortal to teach him all about it.

Yule Log: With Christmas quickly approaching, Loki finds himself missing his favorite time on Asgard. If he can’t go back home to celebrate, you’re determined to bring the party to him.

Secret Santa: When you pick Loki’s name for Secret Santa, you are at a loss for what to get him. Some quality time with the God of Mischief sheds some light on the situation.

How the God Stole Christmas: Loki despises Christmas, and after watching the Grinch, he decides there’s only one thing to do about it. But you just might melt his cold heart.

How to Cure a Cold: You catch a cold after playing in the snow. Loki worries that, as a frost giant, he is too cold to warm you up, but you quickly convince him otherwise.

A Kiss at Midnight: At Tony’s New Year’s Party, you notice Loki is upset. He’s hesitant to tell you what’s wrong, but when he finally confesses, the coming year suddenly seems so much brighter.

Perfect: After much research and seeking out advice from Tony, Loki asks you on a date.

Always: All Loki wants is to be with you forever and always. Your gentle kindness convinces him to tell you as much.

The Ring: Loki thinks he’s found the perfect way to propose to you, but things go awry. Luckily, all that matters in the end is that you love each other.

As Long as I Have You: Loki is worried about bringing your relationship out into the public eye. He finally realizes that as long as he has you, everything will be fine.

Loss & Love: As you struggle with the loss of your grandma, Loki is right by your side to take care of you and wipe your tears away.

Because I Love You: You’ve fallen for the trickster god, and have no idea that he’s done the same. When his attempts to keep you safe fail, you get into a huge fight. Will you be able to tell each other how you really feel, or is the rift too wide?

If It’s Meant to Be: After you breakup, Loki regrets how he pushed you away. He can only hope that you’ll come back to him.

Queen of the Night: Loki takes you to the rooftop greenhouse to show you his favorite flower, the queen of the night. Your evening ends with a confession of love.

A Short Story: You decide to get back at Loki for his incessant short jokes.

The Problem With Birthdays: You want to enjoy your birthday with Loki, but your fears that one day no one will love you are keeping you from having fun.

We Make a Pretty Good Team: It’s game night at the Avengers Tower, and you find the perfect partner in Loki.

The Double Date: On Valentine’s Day, you set up a double date with your boyfriend, Loki, and friends, Bucky and Steve. Unfortunately, tensions between the god of the Captain threaten your evening.

A Perfect Proposal: In which you propose to Loki.

Don’t Gotta Work it Out: A particularly nasty fight rattles your relationship with Loki. Even as both of you wonder if you’re not meant to work things out, you long to be in each other’s arms. But can you make amenjds before your hope is gone?

Stay the Night: Your fear of thunderstorms leads you to invite Loki to stay the night at your place.

Gold Writing: When a charming, handsome stranger gives you inspiration for the first time in weeks, you try to guess what it is he’s famous for in exchange for his name.

Need You Here: Loki lost you in the snap and now knows he must tell you how he feels. Unfortunately, the battle raging around you wants to stop him from doing just that.

Opening Night: When Loki scores the lead in a production of West Side Story, the two of you become fast friends. You help convince him to face his fears and invite the Avengers to see the show.

Anything: When the Avengers latest mission is to visit local schools, Loki’s insecurities start to get the better of him. But with you to there comfort him, he realizes that with you by his side, he can do anything.

Eyes Closed: Loki escapes to his Midgardian’s house to decompress when the stress and pressure becomes too much. Spending time with you is just the thing he needs.

Not as Bad as You Think: After a bad grade on a test, Peter is being very hard on himself. Loki helps you cheer him up.

Milkshakes: Overwhelmed when Loki saves you, you respond to his kindness with fear. Determined to apologize, you seek Loki out to thank him with a couple of milkshakes and some fries.

My Heart is Your Canvas: Loki hadn’t been planning on confessing his love for you, but he’s glad he did.

Just Dance: Loki joins you and Peter as you play some video games.

For Appearances: Posing with Loki as a young, rich couple shouldn’t have any bumps in the road, right? After all, it is just a mission. But as you spend time with the mischief god, you realize not everything is as fake as it seems.

I’m Here For You: Loki comforts you when he finds you crying over school.

Not So Alone: Meeting a young fan of his gives Loki some renewed hope.

Not a Trick: Loki wins Thor’s money back after you swindle him in a street con.

Home Is Such a Lonely Place: When Loki is handpicked to be part of the Avengers new space force, it causes some problems in your relationship. Will distance make the heart grow fonder or is it too much to bear?

All I Need is You: You do so much for everyone else and so little for yourself that when you almost collapse, Loki finally gets you to agree to let him take care of you.

Marshmallows After Midnight: When Peter shows up at your and Loki’s apartment, the young hero has more than enough plans for mischief.

Tell Me Everything: When you become overwhelmed at a feast, Loki whisks you away to safety.

Kickflips and Confidence: As your best friend, Loki helps you build confidence to enter a skate competition.

If This Were a Movie: Thor and Wanda try to help you and Loki see the feelings you have for each other.

Happy Now?: When Loki attends your team’s roller derby, you have more wins than just one.

Friends Like These: Peter brings you to the Tower for a tour to take your mind off your parents’ divorce. When you meet Loki, he helps you come to grips with your feelings over the situation.

All Night Long: Though you and Loki both pine for each other, the road has a few bumps in it before your happily ever after.

Always There: When Loki is grieving for his mother and blaming himself for her death, you use your powers to help.

Little Wonders: You’re by Loki’s side his whole life, and vise versa. There is not a doubt in either of your minds that you love each other. Together, you can weather any storm.

Moving On: When you find out your ex-boyfriend is a Hydra agent, it leads to a confession of Love from Loki.

Luck Led Me to You: Driving home on Christmas morning after a last minute mission, a snow storm forces Loki to stop at a roadside diner where he meets you.

Love Keeps Me Here: After inviting you to the Tower for Christmas, Loki can’t help but find himself drawn ever closer to you. He hatches a plan to not only be able to see you again, but to make your dreams come true.

The Best Gift of All: You don’t want to burden everyone with your birthday when the Tower Christmas party is right around the corner, but Loki has other plans.

A Kiss Under the Mistletoe: Loki frets that the two of you not having a Christmas tradition is a sign of something more; it’s particularly concerning since he’s planning on proposing to you.

[highfaelucien]

az and lucien for the ship thingy maybe?

send me a pairing and I'll answer the following questions about them!

HECK YES. IT'S LUZRIEL TIME!!!!

falls asleep on the couch I think they might both be guilty of this? Azriel does it when he's had a super long day and just...cannot stay awake. Lucien finds him sprawled there amidst all of his reports and scribbled notes. He tuts and tidies them away, because he knows Az hates messiness, and then just...Lies down and snuggles next to him. Az being Az, this wake him up and has him reaching for Truth-Teller. But Lucien, who expected this, gives him a soft word and a little squeeze and Az just...grunts and wraps a lazy wing around them and they drift off again. Lucien does it deliberately because sometimes you just need to have a couch nap. It's one of the few joys in life. When Az finds him, his response varies. If he's feeling soft/it's late/he knows Lucien needs it he just scoops him up and carries him to bed. Lucien remains utterly unaware of this, apart from mumbling vaguely in his sleep and kind of like...pulling Az towards him. Craving that contact. Sometimes he refuses to let go and Az has to give in and get into bed with him. He grumbles about this. He grumbles a LOT, but he lets it happen. If Lucien has shit to do Az will make him some tea, as a peace offering, poke at him til he wakes up, then shoves the tea under his nose like smelling salts to make him sit up and actually properly wake up. And sometimes Az, who has a streak of cruel humour in him, chucks a bucket of water over Lucien who is just like AZRIEL WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK YOU MISERABLE OLD BAT WHY AM I WITH YOU!? Az actually unleashes A Chuckle at this while Lucien remains >:(

makes friends with the neighbors Azriel SAYS he makes friends with the neighbours, but Lucien flatly points out that "sending shadows into peoples' houses to make sure they're not serial killers, or secret Hybern loyalists, or spies, or bad dressers does NOT count as making friends with them, Az". Az rustles his wings a bit at this and mumbles something about "with the right perspective..." Lucien rolls his eyes and forces him to come up and ACTUALLY meet their neighbours in person. Lucien does the actual friend making. Lucien is 10/10 the guy that hangs over his garden wall to have an hour long conversation with the neighbours while Az hovers awkwardly in the background like 'wtf are they talking about for all this time???' He's also very forward, with makes Az blush a little bit. "Hi there I'm Lucien, this is my partner Azriel, we fuck each other, if that makes you uncomfortable I suggest you move and reevaluate your priorities in life. I am a delight, he is too but it's harder to see, give him like a half a milennia and you'll see what I mean." Lucien makes friends but he's also got no patience or tolerance for bullshit anymore. If someone's a shit person he wants nothing to do with them. (And will absolutely lowkey start neighbour guerilla warfare to get them to move. This includes, but is not limited to, very loud sex).

is the adventurous eater Lucien will try anything once, but hilariously I think he's actually got quite a fussy palatte? So he WANTS to be an adventurous eater but anything with more than like...a single chili in it makes him start hyperventilating. He can't handle spice. Which Azriel finds absolutely fucking hilarious, because it is. "You're from the Autumn Court, Lucien." "I know -_-" "You have literal fire powers" "I KNOW -_-" "You-" "SHUT THE FUCK UP AZ I KNOW". Azriel actually has a surprisingly refined taste. He's a definite foodie. And he can eat pretty much anything to exist, but he likes his food, and he likes it good. One of Lucien's early warning signs that Az is going through some shit is actually that he stops caring about what he's putting in his mouth/is just eating to keep himself going and not for any pleasure. That's when it's intervention time.

hogs the covers at night Lucien, actually. Which Azriel pretends to be very miffed about because "you have fire powers, Lucien, sheesh." Lucien just points out that Azriel has two giant blankets strapped to his back called wings and that he hasn't got a leg to stand on either. As they bicker this way they navigate closer together/cuddle and also redistribute said blankets. Both of them actually hate being cold at night.

For Az it brings back bad memories of dark, cold cells, and brutal winter months in Illyrian warcamps.

Lucien doesn't have a particularly bad association with the cold, he's just a little bitch about it.

forgets to do the dishes

Both of them I think are pretty neat and tidy on the whole? Azriel has that military bootcamp discipline mentality. Lucien can be a little bit more scattered in comparison. But like an academic library looks like a disorganised clusterfuck compared to Az, so it's not a very fair bar.

Of the two of them, Lucien is more likely to do it. Lucien attempts to cook like once every year or so, and the result is always an absolute clusterfuck of burned food, swearing Lucien, the messing of every pot and pan in the house, and said house nearly being burned to the ground.

tries to surprise their partner more often

Azriel very famously doesn't like surprises. Lucien tried precisely one (1) time, waiting in the bed, naked, with a rose clamped between his teeth, and an impressive display of magical Autumn court fireworks heralding Azriel's return home.

Unfortunately, Az being Az, reacted rather poorly to this, thought they were being ambushed, and long story short nearly chopped Lucien's cock off with Truth-Teller.

Lucien has planned no more surprises since then.

Azriel is a stealth romantic, however. Beneath those Illyrian leathers, icy stares, midnight voice, and scarred, impenetrable mask is a vein of soft mushyness, and this is a hill I am willing to die on.

Every month or so (he keeps the schedule varied, keep Lucien on his toes) he plans a surprise and Lucien is pleased.

leaves dirty laundry on the floor Again, both of them are fairly neat, so the only time this would realistically happen is when they're on the way to boning and clothing is being shed quickly behind like. Like a smutty breadcrumb trail.

stays up til 2 AM reading Both of them are guilty of this. Az is reading reports, which is absolutely not a valid excuse for him not to be in bed snuggling Lucien RIGHT THIS SECOND. But Lucien absolutely needing to find out how the last 12 cliffhangers in his mystery thriller novel is a completely different story and “stop glowering at me from the bedroom doorway, Azriel, I need to find out who killed Gregory!!!” “It was the gardener, now will you please put that down and come to sleep?” “FUCK YOU, AZ, YOU HAVEN’T EVEN FUCKING READ IT I HATE YOU SO MUCH.”

sings in the shower Both, actually. Plot twist. Lucien has a lovely voice, actually, and Azriel will often send in a shadow or two to listen in and feed the music back to him while he’s working in the other room. Az sings as well, but very quietly, and he has a nice voice, too. But he’s so stealthy and secretive about it that no one will ever know.

takes the selfies Lucien, by virtue of the fact that Azriel is in approximately six pictures ever, and even then he’s only like...partially in 4 of them. Azriel doesn’t do cameras. And he has an uncanny knack for ducking out of the way just as pictures get taken and avoiding them entirely.

plans date night

Lucien’s date nights just kind of happen. He doesn’t really plan, he just informs Az they’re going out and then they go on a city whirlwind adventure.

Azriel’s date nights are planned with expected military precision and excuted on a minute-by-minute schedule.

[avengerscompound]

Homecoming - A lovelink Fanfic

Homecoming - A lovelink Fanfiction

Character pairing: Jonathan Hayes x F!Reader

Word Count: 1750ish

Warnings:  Smut (MF, Oral and vaginal sex)

Synopsis:  After waiting for months for Jonathan to return from his posting, you finally get a notification that he’s home.  When you reunite it’s fireworks.

A/N: Hello, yes, I have a new minor hyperobsession that I’m dragging people down into with me.  I’m not suddenly going to turn into a lovelink account, but I needed to get these thoughts out of my head. Thanks to @musicalninja​, @lillianfromaccounting​, and @thelookingglassalice​ for going down this rabbit hole with me and helping me with the images.

THERE ARE IMAGES IN THIS FIC YOU NEED TO SEE FOR THE STORY.

Homecoming

Four months.

Four months, you’d kept the LoveLink app on your phone, not swiping any profiles or chatting with singles in your area, just keeping it - in case.  Four months of fearing the worst and hoping for the best.  Four months of wondering if you should move on and try to find that same connection again with someone new.  Four months of no word and not knowing if that meant he was dead, or he’d forgotten about you, or he was out there, on the front line missing you as much as you missed him.  Four months of wondering if you were a complete idiot for falling for a man so damned quickly when you knew he was going to be taken away from you.

And then your phone buzzed.

You didn’t put too much hope in the small chime that let you know you had a LoveLink notification.  You didn’t hold out too much hope as you picked up your phone.  You’d gotten a few of them over the last couple of months and usually, it was just a reminder that you had matches waiting to speak to you.  You didn’t want to match anyone else.  It didn’t matter who was out there, they could be a magical centaur from another world and you would swipe right.  You were waiting on Jonathan.

You blinked at the screen, not quite sure if you were hallucinating or not.  It wouldn’t be the first time that a matchup on LoveLink had ended up with you hallucinating.  You quickly opened the app and stared at the screen.  The ‘I’ll be waiting’ you’d sent him four months ago that had been taunting you was no longer the most recent message.

You stared at the phone as he dropped back offline again.  Your heart was pounding in your chest.  He was back.  And he remembered you.  And he was on his way here.

He was on his way here!

You jumped up and hurriedly started to tidy up.  You were still in sweats and you looked like you’d just come back from a 10-mile run.  You jumped in the shower and changed into something that sat on the border of sweet and sexy.  You were just fixing your hair when your doorbell rang.

You hurried to the door and pulled it open.

Standing before you was the man you’d been dreaming about for four months.  The corners of his mouth twitched as you reached up and cradled his jaw.  Your thumb caressed his cheek as your fingers traveled over the scar that ran down his brow, spitting his eyebrow in two and narrowly missing his left eye.  You had studied the photos he’d sent so many times now, you could draw his face in your sleep.  He put his hand on yours and leaned into your palm.  Slowly he turned his head and kissed your palm.

His lips moved to the inside of your wrist and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.  Your pulse was racing, and part of you still wasn’t sure that this was real.  Where your skin met his it felt like there was a current passing between you.  Like you were a live wire and he was grounding you.  He looked down into your eyes and smiled softly.  “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

“I can’t believe you’re back,” you said, leaning in toward him.

He met you halfway, his lips connecting with yours.  What was meant to be soft and tender only lasted a moment.  You kissed hard and passionately.  There was a frantic need that was four months in the making.  Neither of you could keep your hands off each other.   You slid one into his hair, bunching your fingers in the short blond locks as the other slid up his chest and closed around his dog tags.  His hands slid around your hips and up your back.  He lifted you off your feet just for a moment - long enough to get you inside and kick the door closed behind him.

He pushed you up against the wall and you wrapped your leg around his waist, drawing him closer to you.  He kissed down to your neck, and his hands slid up under your skirt gripping your ass as he ground his hardening cock against you.

“God, Jonathan,” you moaned.  “I need you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said.

You grinned and grabbed his hands, pulling him back into your bedroom.   When you were inside, you began unfastening his shirt.  He pulled back and looked down at you, his hands going to your shoulder and slowly pushing the straps of your dress down your arms, the back of her fingers grazing over your skin and sending a warm tingle through you.  His gaze was full of lust, but there was love there too.  It was strange to have fallen for someone so completely so quickly, but you could see he had, and you knew you had too.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed.

You looked over his firm, muscular chest up to his clear blue eyes and smirked.  “You’re not too bad yourself, hot stuff.”

You let your dress fall to the ground and stepped out of it as you pushed his shirt off.  His calloused fingers skimmed over your bare skin, and he kissed you again.  You could practically taste his feelings for you in the tender caress of his lips.  He unhooked your bra and you unfastened his pants and pushed them down.

The last few steps to your bed were slow, and each of you shed the last of your clothes as you made them.  You sat back on the bed and pulled him close, nosing at his cock.  He was achingly hard and at the small touch, it jumped and leaked pre-come down the shaft.  You licked up the sticky trail and swirled your tongue over the head.  He groaned, bunching his hands in your hair and you slowly took him into your mouth, relaxing your throat so you could take him completely.

“Fuck…” he moaned.  “I’ve dreamed of that beautiful mouth of yours.”

You pulled back and looked up at him, making him make a needy whining sound.  “Is that all you dreamed about?”

“No,” he said as you took him into your mouth again.  “I dreamed about all of you.  Being able to see your smile, and hear your laugh.  To read your teasing texts.  I’ve dreamed of taking you out and exploring the world with you.  Of your pussy.  The taste of it, and how good it feels when my cock is buried deep inside it.”

As he spoke you sucked and bobbed your head up and down.  His voice became breathier and cracked as he spoke and when he finished speaking he groaned and tugged on your hair.  “God… you gotta stop or we’re not gonna get to the good bit.”

You laughed pulling back and looking up at him.  “We can’t have that.”

He kneeled between your legs and pushed them apart.  “Your turn,” he said, and dipped his head down.  His tongue pushed between your folds, swirling around to taste as much as he could before focusing on your clit.  Your toes curled and you gripped his hair as hot currents shot straight up your spine.  He sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue back and forth over it.  You groaned and shudders your legs trembling slightly.  “God, you’re so good with your mouth.”

A slight blush went to his cheeks, which was strangely adorable considering that his cheeks were so firm planted between your thighs.  He kept licking and sucking at the sensitive bud, sending shockwaves through your core.  You threw your head back in pure ecstasy and all your muscles seized up at once as you came.

“Wow,” Jonathan breathed.  His soft pink lips glistening with your fluids.  “That was fast.  And hot.”

“It’s been a long build-up,” you said, pulling him up onto you.

He guided you back as he crawled between your legs.  You welcomed him between them and as he lined himself up, you pushed up your hips to meet him.  He kissed you again.  You could taste the tartness of yourself on his lips and you sucked greedily on them.  With a quick snap of his hips, he was inside you.

You gasped and moaned loudly, arching your back in the hope it would push even more of him inside you.  He groaned into your lips and began to thrust.  He started slow and passionate - like he was trying to make this special and meaningful.  Like he wanted it to be more than just sex, but a connection too.  It didn’t last.  It had been a long time for both of you, and neither of you could hold back your passion.

He thrust hard and fast into you as you gripped at his back and writhed under him.  The buzz of pleasure built in you to the point that your edges felt fuzzy and you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.  His mouth moved from your lips to your neck and back again adding to the desperate passionate nature of everything.  As his hips began to stutter, you slipped your hand between both your bodies and rubbed your clit, and as one, you came.  You cried out and arched up under him, your whole body shuddering as your orgasm crashed down on you, and at the same time, he jerked into you and released, his cock pulsing inside your fluttering walls.

“Wow,” he sighed, as he slipped out of you and rolled onto his back.

“You’re telling me,” you said, rolling to look at him.  “Don’t think I’ve ever done the simultaneous orgasm before.”

He laughed and blushed.  “You are so dirty.  I love it.”

You nosed at his cheek.  “Stick around, and you can see just how dirty I can get.”

He smiled and looked at you, brushing some of your hair off your face.  “Don’t worry, this time I’m not going anywhere.”

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

70 Fred Weasley headcanons in celebration of 700 followers:

(plus an extra one, for the heck of it lmao) 

You guys, thank you so much for 700 followers! I appreciate every single one of you and writing for the twins has been such a blast so far, much to the thanks of all of you <3 

Find the 70 George Headcanons: Here

Fred has always been really good at sleight of hand stuff, as a kid, he could do card tricks with ease, steal baked goods from his mother’s kitchen and later on since his allowance wasn’t exactly anything to brag about, he’d steal sweets from honeydukes' on Hogsmeade trips, with the help of George, he’s not proud of it but in his defence, he was a stupid teenage boy at the time. 

Fred is incredibly competitive and will hold onto anything you challenge him to for way longer than you might think. He’s definitely the type to “race you” anytime you’re headed to herbology, care against magical creatures or Hogsmeade together.

As the man himself said in the deathly hallows, Fred doesn’t like the idea of a big grandiose wedding ceremony, he’d prefer something more low-key and simple, where the focus is more on having fun and celebrating instead of neat seating plans and meticulously chosen decorations. Some flowers and booze will do, he’ll provide the fireworks - In essence, he only needs his S/O and the rest he couldn’t care less about. 

George may be better at cooking, but Fred makes a damn good pancake and he will forever pride himself on that. 

Fred is the more jealous, overprotective twin. He’s aware of this and tries his best not to let it go to his head but he can’t help it. 

Fred snores, I’m pretty sure it’s canon that both twins snore, but Fred is louder and, as mentioned in my last headcanon post, a very heavy sleeper meaning it’s more difficult to get him to wake up so he can stop, your best shot is trying (and probably failing) to turn him over. 

Fred is also a very restless sleeper, he’ll toss and turn, and occasionally dream about quidditch. I’m saying you might want to be aware that he might confuse you for a bludger in his sleep, don’t worry though, he’ll always apologise profusely and make it up to you with a lot of kisses (and maybe a bit more than that, if you’re keen ;)) 

Fred has an extensive caffeine addiction, which is unfortunate cause he’s quite hyper already but he can’t function properly until he gets his coffee in the morning, and then again in between lessons/at lunch and then again late in the afternoon. Sometimes, if he needed to write an essay that was due, he’d drink coffee at like nine pm. He knows he won’t be able to sleep because of it, please, Y/n, he’s accepted his fate. 

I personally always imagined the twins as having ADHD, idk why it just fits their characters. Fred is for sure the more outwardly fidgety and intrusive, this gets less and less with age, as it does for a lot of ADHD people, his inability to focus remains the same though. 

Fred loves being outside, he’s the first of the Weasley siblings to suggest a game of quidditch or just going outside for walks, hide and seek in the woods near their house. He absolutely loves taking his dates on walks in parks or at the beach and when he has kids he plays with them in their yard, building snowmen etc. 

Fred probably suggests at some point that the whole family should go camping, and he’s actually really fun to camp with. He’ll tell the best scary stories by the campfire. 

In regards to children, Fred wants a lot of kids. Like at least three but would be willing to have more if his s/o wants to. He just really likes the dynamic of a large family since that’s what he’s used to. 

Fred’s favourite flavour of sweets is anything sour, the sourer the better, because of this he can handle it really well and he loves handing people some of his ridiculously sour candy and watching them squirm. 

He also really likes spicy food, he’s a bit of a daredevil so don’t challenge him to eat anything because he will eat a whole chilli and nearly die. 

 You know he’d be really casual about it too, lol, like sweating and crying but just leaning on the counter like “*pant* what? hot? no not at all *deeeeep breath* I can ha-aw-rdly taste it!” 

One thing about Fred is that he’s oddly squeamish, like seeing his brother’s ear blown off isn’t so bad (if you don’t take into account the emotional trauma that is), but a needle for a blood sample or a vaccine? oooh, he’s gonna need a big juice box and a cookie and his s/o’s hand to hold if he’s gonna make it through. He also has a thing about leeches. One time at Hogwarts they were mentioned in a lesson and he thought he was going to faint the entire time. 

Fred’s broken five bones over the years, four are from quidditch: his left arm and two ribs, and then the other arm from trying to do an elaborate stunt on the stairs in the burrow and falling down two flights. 

Fred loves to sing karaoke (because I cannot get that damn clip of James singing karaoke out of my head) though he particularly enjoys doing a very poor job on purpose. 

Fred is such a good liar that on several occasions he’s given presentations in school and gotten good marks for them despite having bullshat his way through the entire thing. 

Like seriously, he’s that guy in the group project who only looks at the slides like five minutes before the presentation and then just turns on a full charming newscaster voice on the professor to the point of them being genuinely convinced (albeit a little confused) that what Fred’s saying is true. 

This is also why Fred loves playing card games like poker: he’s really good at bluffing. 

Speaking of poker-face, he’s really quite good at teasing in public (if you’re into that sort of thing *wink*) because no matter the dirty deeds he might get up to under a table, his face remains as regular as always (safe for a little smirk to his lover every now and then) 

Fred always wanted to learn an instrument, he thought it’d make him cooler when he was a teenager, as an adult, he just really wants to recreate that clip of the trombone-playing dad with the sunglasses, or maybe serenade some cows with jazz or something. 

Fred was never a big fan of the uniform thing, so he always tried to make it his own, whether that be tying the tie differently, or having his sleeves rolled up; it’s not much but you gotta take what you can get when you’re literally dressed the same as everyone else. 

Fred might make fun of his dad’s interest in muggle things but secretly he loves it too. He has spent a lot of hours in the shed with Arthur, assuring everyone that it was just to have some quality time with his dad but he would still pay close attention when Arthur explained things to him. 

Fred had a whole business of selling candy from Honeydukes’ and joke products from Zonko’s to second and first years before he and George started dabbling with their own products, he could get you a butterbeer too but it’ll cost you an extra three galleons. 

Fred really likes glitter, George has a thing for lace, anything that glitters on his s/o makes Fred weak. If you want to get your way just put on some glittery eyeshadow or lipgloss and watch him spin. 

Since he loves things that glitter and gleam he loves buying his s/o jewellery, he loves seeing them wearing them as little tokens of their relationship. 

Did someone say slight possession kink? oops not me

Fred is incredible with numbers, this is pretty much canon and has been explored but I’m just amazed at this boy’s wit AND intellect. I have a slight headcanon that if he ever goes on a proper first date with someone where a bill is involved, he impresses his date by calculating the tip after just a glance.

Even if Fred has a longstanding reputation of not caring about school, when he has kids he does want to help them with any coursework over the summer and Christmas breaks, he’ll even study up on his old books just to be able to help out in any classes he didn’t take/didn’t pay attention in. 

Fred would, in general, be an amazing father. He’s goofy and playful most of the time, though he’s serious and incredibly caring whenever his kids are in a bad mood or have problems. He knows that he’s not the most outwardly emotional of the twins but he makes sure his kids know they can always talk to him about anything. 

Fred is incredibly messy. His room is usually a cry for help and he only cleans it when it gets to the point where it distracts him from focusing on work. 

No worries though, his S/O doesn’t have to do all the housework for him, he’ll do it. He just needs to be reminded that he needs to every once in a while. 

Fred has a really bad temper, he doesn’t know where he gets it from but he tends to get angry easier than George, though Fred is better at letting it out so it doesn’t continue to bother him. 

His bad temper does mean that he used to brawl more with siblings as a kid, and it wasn’t unusual to see him with scrapes and bruises as a kid, much to Molly’s dismay. Fred didn’t mind though, he thought it made him look tough. 

Fred is more likely to get caught sneaking around because of his brash nature, he tends to forget just how quiet you have to be to avoid Mrs Norris in the corridors. 

Fred is certainly not an early bird but his favourite time of day is, in fact, the morning when the sun’s coming up. He only knows this because of Wood’s ridiculously early quidditch practices but there’s something about the way the world looks when it’s bathed in soft golden light that just hits different to Fred. 

Fred is a great team player, as much as he seems like he’s more selfish than George, if it’s regarding a team activity (like quidditch or a battle of sorts) he’ll completely lose all focus on himself and only try to ensure other’s safety and victory. This is also why he plays as a beater, he’s not afraid of getting hit at all when he’s focused on getting the bludgers away from his teammates. 

So if his s/o ever needs it, he’ll be there to help with anything: Needs to take a day off from work to take care of his sick s/o? no problem. Needs to stay up with his small child because his s/o is exhausted and needs rest? On it. Something as small as carrying groceries or books, making a cup of tea when the other is busy or doing the dishes is all on the list of things that Fred will happily do for his s/o, and often without having to be asked, he’ll just do it. 

Fred’s boggart is seeing his family members and/or his s/o hurt beyond what he can save. Essentially his worst fear is being helpless when he needs it most. 

One of those times was when George lost his ear. The first night when George was lying practically unconscious on the couch with blood everywhere was the worst night of Fred’s life, he truly felt so anxious and helpless and angry that he vomited and ended up passing out next to the couch after staying up till sunrise watching his brother like a hawk. 

He didn’t just sleepwalk when he was younger, he also often experienced nightmares, it’s only George, Molly and Arthur who remembers anything about this. 

They got less and less the older he got and he assumed that he’d never be bothered by them again until after the second wizarding war and the battle of Hogwarts. 

I don’t like to headcanon that he dies cause he didn’t and that’s final lol. I do, however, headcanon that Fred still gets hurt, since everyone in the explosion beside him seemed to sustain minor injuries, I just think that to even out with George losing his ear, he hurts his leg and needs a lot of retraining/a walking stick. I think that’d be a more fair/unfair ending for Fred who’s always full of energy having to have to adjust to living slowly for a little while (not permanently, I couldn’t do that to my boy). 

The boy has anxiety sometimes, ok. (just let me project for a second)

He didn’t know how much tension he usually holds in his body until he drank alcohol for the first time and felt his entire body loosen up and was like “huh this is new.” 

He doesn’t use alcohol to deal with it though, he prefers just talking to George about whenever he feels is stressing him out and that helps. A massage from his s/o to loosen him up doesn’t hurt either. 

Fred prefers to talk to his dad about his problems more than he prefers to talk to Molly, generally. 

His favourite body parts on his s/o: Shoulders, hips, hands. 

He loves to kiss, just in general, but he also loves kissing his s/o’s nose, forehead, neck, shoulder, etc. as little gestures of affection. 

He def. has a bit of a size kink, he loves being taller than his s/o. 

If Fred could have any pet he wanted, he’d probably want a dog, the bigger the better. He doesn’t think he has the time for a pet though. 

It was his idea to start breeding pygmy puffs, it’s the closest he’ll get to having a pet. 

I don’t know why but I feel like when Fred and his s/o are expecting and his s/o goes into labour he just panics. loses it, drops the binkie as we say in Denmark: Freaks the fuck out, if you will. He’s definitely the pacing and wringing his hands together type, though he probably tries his best to keep himself composed and chill during the whole thing whilst simultaneously hyperventilating. 

Fred doesn’t cry often but he sure as hell wept with pride when he held all his kids for the first time. 

Despite the notion that the twins often slip in a joke version of a sweet treat or something similar amongst the snacks at parties, Fred is strongly against tampering with drinks. He knows the connotations it holds and he doesn’t want anyone to be afraid they’d put something in it. If he wants you to test out their truth serum or a love potion, he’ll just ask you flat out and if you don’t want to, he’s not going to continue asking. 

Most of the detentions Fred has gotten from Snape come from times he’s spoken back to him when Snape’s been giving another student a rough time. He doesn’t regret it one bit. 

 If you ask Fred what his proudest accomplishment is, he’ll probably say that it’s having had enough restraint to not punch Umbridge in the face every time he saw her. 

On the note of Umbridge. It wasn’t her detentions with him that got his blood boiling, it was when she punished little kids (a la Nigel) for doing practically nothing, he understands that to an extent and by comparison, setting off a bunch of fireworks inside a building would harbour a harsher punishment, but making twelve-year-olds bleed for running in the halls or playing music or just doing things that twelve-year-olds will inevitably do, is something Fred doesn’t understand. That year pretty much any kid younger than him, or anyone who was too afraid to stand up for themselves, became Fred and George’s little siblings, and they’re very protective older brothers. Umbridge can vouch for that. 

He struggles with a lot of insecurity in his relationships, he always puts on a front of being extra funny and outgoing when he’s in a new relationship because he’s secretly afraid that the way he is isn’t good enough and that eventually, his s/o will see through him and leave because they don’t like the softer, more serious side of him. 

Fred is the godfather of all of George’s kids but is also the godparent of Hugo, Lily and Lucy. 

Fred loves business meetings, he sees them as a good challenge to practice his smooth talk. 

Fred spent his first salary from the shop on the most expensive bottle of champagne he could find and a new suit. 

Fred tried to get into whiskey, feeling like it’d make him a cool business owner type of man, so, with his second salary, he went out and bought a fancy-schmancy bottle of whiskey and the whole getup with a bottle and some cool glasses, and then invited Lee over to try it with him and George. 

They did not like it. Fred thought it tasted like what he imagined gasoline tastes like so they mostly used it as decorations, not having the heart to mix it with something. 

Fred doesn’t necessarily like PDA, it depends on what you mean. He likes being secretive. Pulling his s/o into an empty classroom, nook, hallway, secret pathway etc where anyone could wander in at any time and snogging her senseless is one of his favourite things to do. 

Fred knows how good he looks in his quidditch uniform and will absolutely use it against his s/o. (they’re gonna get spicy from here on so read with caution if you're in public)

Fred prefers giving more than receiving oral. 

He has a lot of energy, did you not think that would rub off (no pun intended) on his sex drive? He can go pretty much any time and place, and typically last at least two rounds. 

Also, his favourite position is having you on top. Okay, I'm gonna stop now. 

[sharkselfies]

The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast Transcript - Episode 4

Our journey comes to an end with the transcript for episode 4 of The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast, where Dave Kajganich, Soo Hugh, Dan Simmons, and Adam Nagaitis discuss the last two episodes of the series. Once again, Adam steals the show with his revelations about Mr. Hickey, but we also hear about everyone’s favorite death scenes, the fight to let Mr. Blanky say fuck, the many changes the writers made to the ending that differed from the novel, and the importance of trusting your audience’s intelligence.

The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast - Episode 4

[The Terror opening theme music]

Dave Kajganich: Welcome to the fourth and final installment of The Minds Behind AMC’s The Terror as we discuss our final two episodes of the show! I’m Dave Kajganich, creator and co-showrunner of the series, here with the honorable Dan Simmons, creator of the novel The Terror on which the series is based. Also with us is Soo Hugh, executive producer and co-showrunner of the show, and Adam Nagaitis, who plays a man who plays a man called Cornelius Hickey. Welcome back!

Adam Nagaitis: Hi!

Dan Simmons: Hi Dave. 

DK: So we launch into our final episodes. Now we are in an episode where the show begins to bend time. We cover a lot of ground in episode nine, a lot of distance, we say goodbye to quite a lot of characters, and we start to really bend the tone and the shape of the narrative towards the kind of horrible collision that’s coming between Crozier and Hickey and our Tuunbaq.

Soo Hugh: So in nine we say goodbye to so many of our characters. I mean Dave and I cried so--

[laughter]

SH: The amount of tears that he and I shed editing this show, especially with nine and ten. For you guys, Adam and Dan, which were the deaths--well, what did you think of the deaths?

DS: What’s your favorite death? 

[laughter]

SH: Yeah, what was your favorite death? 

AN: My favorite was probably, the one that really moved me was Fitzjames, it’s such a fantastic story, his character’s so interesting, that transition, discovering, you know, admitting who you are, and the firework at the Tuunbaq being his feat of courage, and then to end up, to embrace death, and to do it in such a beautiful way. And then the line of “there will be poems” that Mr. Bridgens says. 

[show audio]

[sad, eerie music]

Bridgens (through tears): It was an honor serving you, sir. You’re a good man. There will be poems.

AN: It’s a beautiful death, it’s probably the best you can ask for, in that situation, you’re with a friend. Yeah, it’s quite sad. Of course you gotta love Blanky’s death as well, that’s, I’m cheating, now, yeah, but Blanky’s death is the greatest line to go out on, surely.

[show audio]

[Tuunbaq growling, shales crunching underfoot]

Blanky: What in the name of god took you so fuckin’ long? 

[Tuunbaq snorts, Blanky laughs maniacally] 

DK: We weren’t entirely sure whether AMC was going to permit us to use that word, a curse word, because on AMC you’re not meant to. Luckily for us, there are a number of AMC shows that have a precedent of using that word and we argued successfully that, you know, could you ask for a better show, a better scene than a Victorian disaster show to use the F-word, and they finally allowed us to use it, and we’re really grateful.

SH: I think just visually Bridgens’ death was so beautiful, and that pull out. And what was interesting was in our research found, we discovered, there was a corpse they discovered who had rolled over and was found sleeping on a set of papers, and in the show Bridgens takes Peglar’s diary when he chooses to die out there in the cold alone comforted with his memories, we see him roll over, and so that’s just our nod to history. Now it turns out we don't know whether or not it was actually Peglar’s diary, it could have been Armitage’s--

DK: No, I think we know it’s Peglar’s journal, but we don’t know whether the man lying on top of it was Armitage or Bridgens.

SH: Then there’s Goodsir’s death. Oh my God, Goodsir! I can’t believe Hickey! Adam! Goodsir!

AN: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. He had it comin’!  

[laughter]

AN: I forgot that death, I forgot all of those deaths, actually, what a--so beautifully acted. I mean, unbelievable. It was perfect. The pure clean images of the coral, and the shell, oh I loved it, and the end, I think it’s an orchid, I just loved it, I absolutely--it’s something that I don’t like talking about, that death, it’s really horrible. 

[show audio]

[the rising music from the scene of Goodsir’s death]

DS: They were all very moving in their own way, saying goodbye to each of the characters, surprisingly powerful, you know, some of ‘em were not major characters, but everything connected for me watching your version. When--earlier, when Fitzjames is out with Crozier alone, and Fitzjames sort of acknowledges that he’s a fake, that he’s just been faking this heroism, you know, the admiralty thought they sent a hero, they sent Fitzjames, he was the man of the moment, but he hadn’t done that much, so he had the courage to say that, and Crozier immediately had the compassion to point out, “No, you’re here, now, and you’re doing fine,” that’s not the dialect but that’s the essence of his message. So all through these scenes with the different characters, I found compassion again. [It] was the way Crozier touched men who were close to the end, the tone of his voice, you know, it wasn’t mawkish, he wouldn’t like being at all sentimental, but it was so supportive. It was like Goodsir helping the poor boy at the beginning of the show, telling him how death could be good, how you see light, you cross over. The kid died in terror; some of these people did. But most of ‘em, they’re like--Fitzjames, when he’s, you know, when he finally has to be carried in the sledge, and he has a sense of humor at the end, he can laugh at himself, somewhat, ‘cause he tells Crozier that that the bullet that went through his arm into his chest, that area is now so gangrene--er, rotten, you know, the bullet is finally going to kill him. Haha. 

[polite awkward laughter]

DK: Well you pointed out a line from the first episode, where Fitzjames is talking to Franklin and he says, “Sometimes I think you love your men more than God loves them,” and Franklin's response is “For all your sakes, let’s hope you’re wrong,” and we brought that line back in a different way in episode nine, which is where the survivors of the Terror Camp attack are about to leave, and they know Hickey’s out there somewhere, and Fitzjames’s impulse is to hide or destroy all of their extra supplies so that Hickey’s group can’t benefit from them, and Crozier has the opposite instinct, which is because he knows some people in Hickey’s group probably made that decision because they were afraid that the alternative was worse to stay with Crozier and so many people, that he wants to offer them the resources in case they can use them and in case they wanna make a different decision in the days ahead.

[show audio] 

Fitzjames: And the supplies we cannot carry? If Hickey’s band are waiting us out to loot the camp?

Crozier: Some of the men with them made their choice out of fear, I’ll not take away any chance they have to survive. We may meet them yet again, and if we do, I want them to make a different choice. Leave our supplies in a tidy pile, as an offering. I want the men with Hickey to know that’s how we meant it. 

[shales crunching underfoot]

Fitzjames: More than God loves them...

DK: Lines like that are a real test, I mean, you struggle with them in the editing room. Did we earn that line? Is it important that an audience remembers that as an index point that line has now been sort of superficially applied to one man, but more sincerely applied to another man, and, you know, that goes back to sort of a close reading of the book, Dan, just sort of scouring through your dialogue trying to figure out how does a master, if I can refer to you that way, approach this idea of a relationship with an audience? And we learned an enormous amount from your book about restraint and indirection, and credit, giving the audience credit. And I will say this, the series is different enough from your novel that I would encourage everyone who has seen the television show but not read your book to seek it out, because they will have just as rewarding--even more so, possibly!--a time of learning about this history through the lens of horror than they did watching the show. So I think they complement one another. I hope they do, and I hope people will seek out both. 

DS: That’s kind of you, Dave. My wife keeps track of the tie-in version of the book, and it’s selling very well, so some people are gonna get that. 

SH: There is this fantastic scene that is in your book, that we had neither money nor time to shoot, but it’s where they discover leads, and they take the boats out going around, and they realize they’re just going around in a circle. We didn’t have the time to shoot that and we re-jiggered our narrative so that the leads ended up being a ploy on one of Hickey’s secret mutineers. Nine is a very quiet episode, and in some ways when you, in television shows--did you miss a set piece, in nine? Did anyone miss having a bigger narrative punch?

DS: Well, I'll answer, then let Adam answer, but for me, who had that boat scene and really liked it a lot, I didn’t miss my stuff too much, because what happened was when the young man, a boy actually, who’s secretly under Hickey’s control tells Crozier and the others he sees open water, and they rush to the rocky beach to see it, and of course that was a lie and a ploy to get them there so Hickey can seize them, but my heart just flew, that, “Open water! Ohh boy!” You know? How would men have felt if they’d heard that, in reality, what was their reaction? ‘Cause the open water could conceivably be their savior, they could get other places, not just cross over and start marching through middle Canada, but they could go anywhere on open water, and to see it all locked in with ice was just stunning to me, it was such a disappointment. So no, I don’t miss my part of it very much.

AN: I never thought of it as something that suggests a quiet narrative like you described it, Soo, to me it sort of links--I see nine and ten as one episode, really. It’s this slow build, the creation of that relationship that these two--the antithesis between these two camps, and between the tactics employed... I just think that the way you guys wrote it and put it together is flawless, I just think it’s so beautifully weighted, between, you know, the deaths that to me they don’t seem to just sort of monotonously pile up, they’re all just so beautifully handled and acted. And the whole time you have this tension building, slowly, slowly, that, you know, that it’s gonna come to a head. I didn’t feel when I watched it that it ever lacked punch. It had such clarity and such patience that made it really beautiful.

DS: And I don’t know if we can say the C-word on podcasts… cannibalism? 

[laughter]

DK: Yes, that one we can. 

SH: Yes.

DS: Oh, ok. You know there was a--if Hickey hadn’t already divided the troop into his people, the anointed, and then Crozier’s group, it would have happened anyway because of the cannibalism. And when you think about it, think of that rugby team or soccer team or whatever that crashed in the Andes. They went back into society. They were cannibals, they admitted it, they got a book deal. And so, presumably, even in England, these people would have been forgiven, or they would have kept it secret like some do. So cannibalism, what it did in this show, I think, divides the people. I didn’t see, until he was forced to imbibe in cannibalism, I didn't see Crozier even considering it. And so that fascinates me, just how far people will go to survive. 

[show audio]

[tense music, tent canvas flapping in the wind]

EC: I’ll give you some advice. Don’t indulge your morals over your practicals. Not now. Don’t you also wanna live? 

SH: Dave, we talked a lot about this, is when you’re in that moment, you’re not Dave Kajganich and I’m not Soo Hugh, in that moment, choosing whether or not we decide to eat someone. Something else will take over, whether it is the Goodsir in us or whether it is the Hickey in us, in that moment. I think that’s why when we shot that scene, you know, after Gibson is cut up, Adam, remember when we shot the reaction shots from each one of you eating your first bite of human flesh meat, and we took so much footage, we shot so much. We shot, you know, closes, mediums, just because Dave and I, you know, at that point, we were very confident of how to shoot everything, that was probably the moment when we were like ugh.

DK: Well we wanted to know how little we could get away with, and what we found, of course, which is typical for the show, the performances were so terrific, that we didn’t need very much. And I remember on the mix stage, the first mix that they did of the show, of that episode, I mean, there was quite a lot of chewing.

[laughter]

And so when I said, no no no, let’s pull all of that out, and use the most minute changes in expression, because all of you at that table were so well in character, that even the slightest muscle movement on your face communicated everything we needed you to. And we were obviously very interested in not overplaying that scene, knowing that audiences had been waiting for it, wondering how, in what kind of taste we would show it, you know, how we would modulate it, and you know a rule throughout the show was to try to present everything with its most practical face, including this. And so, you know, hopefully when that lands for people it will be both satisfying in the sense that they will understand how these characters made that decision but it won’t feel that we have over-articulated it, somehow. 

DS: I’m not religious, but I’m obsessed with religion, and in your story, the way you structured it, you have, in a sense, we’ve already talked, or at least I have, about how Hickey seems to be evolving towards Messiahdom, I think he near the end he thinks he is the Messiah, but it’s Goodsir who provides The Last Supper. How much more powerful a story of Christ is there, than, you know, “Take, eat,” and it’s yourself? And it’s fascinating to me that the man who dedicated his life to helping people and curing people and being empathic at their ending, his last act is to kill as many of Hickey’s people as possible. And, you know, so there’s--that’s where the trial was, it wasn’t when Hickey was gonna be hanged, it was inside Dr. Goodsir when he decided that “These people need to end and I will do it.” 

SH: So should we talk about the big scene at the end--well, it’s not the end, it’s the Tuunbaq sequence in 1.10? 

DK: To set it up, Adam, you know, Hickey--we’ll keep calling him Hickey even though we’ve established he isn’t--you get an important piece of information in episode nine where Tozer, Sergeant Tozer, relays to you a piece of information that he hasn’t shared with anyone, that he watched Collins be killed and he watched Collins’s soul be pulled out of his body. And, you know, for Hickey, suddenly a lot of things make sense. What happened to Private Heather, who was alive for many episodes but no longer sort of present in his body, I mean you even have a scene where you poke his brain hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him, and you take that piece of information and you suddenly realize you’re not longer in a kind of survival story, you’re in kind of a spiritual story, you’re in kind of a mythological story, suddenly. Can you talk about how you decided to play that so it was sort of clear to an audience what that opportunity was? Because we did not devote a lot of dialogue to it, it was going to have to be something an audience felt as much as was described to them. 

AN: I can only describe the way that it--the process--the mind of it, that, you know, you see Hickey has a plan, up until that point, he’s started--the way that I thought about it was that, you know, once he starts to hear things, he starts to have this space of this area, creates this space in his mind and he understands the things that have come before him and his curiosity leads him to, you know--one element in him is still practically engaged in survival, and outmaneuvering the captain, and heading south, and coming up with a plan and, you know, a story as to what happened, but then there are other elements of, you know, consuming human flesh, that there might be an answer there, it might be an enlightening experience. And if it’s not in that, is it something else? And he finds the hill, and he understands when he sees that hill, that he hears something, and then he’s not quite clear on what it is, what’s drawing him, and what’s talking to him, and what he’s feeling, but he’s becoming one with this realm, and, you know, he starts to, once he discovers the supernatural element--not that he hasn’t already established that there is one, but the fact that it’s such a specific--he’s been developing his knowledge of the summoning song that Lady Silence sings to become a Shaman, you know, the rules of this particular realm, this empire. And he’s been gathering this information as we go along, all the way through the series he’s been taking pieces of information, and he pockets it and learns and keeps it for later.

[show audio]

[mysterious music]

Hickey: Tuunbaq… a spirit that dresses as an animal, and yet we shot it with a cannon and drew blood. How do you reconcile that?

Crozier: I can’t. There’s much about this voyage I can’t reconcile. 

Hickey: What mythology is this creature at the center of?

Crozier: About the creature I have no answers, Mr. Hickey. We were not meant to know of it. 

AN: And when he gets this key piece of the puzzle, that the Tuunbaq is taking souls, and that... there’s a hierarchy of what the Tuunbaq wants to eat. You know, a captain, and important people, he realizes that he really is the center of this universe. I suppose the way that I adjusted it was that everybody else became irrelevant. Completely irrelevant. I no longer needed to worry about manipulation, control, fear. Everything was gonna sing for me, everything was gonna work as if I had magic hands, and my voice just dictated what the universe would do.

[show audio]

[mysterious music continued]

Hickey: I didn’t have anywhere near an equal on this expedition. But you. I wanted to thank you for that. On the eve of what is quite an important day. 

AN: Every single conversation was an annoyance because it was getting in the way of me listening to the universe, this world, this empire, this realm that was now speaking to me. And I was talking to the Tuunbaq, you know, from this distance, and we had this dance going, and everything that happened was just getting in my way. It was all gonna work itself out because I’ve been chosen to ascend, to reach this ascension, to, you know, ride the Tuunbaq into my new empire, to take my new throne, and I was finally gonna be given the answers to these questions that I’d been asking.

[show audio]

[rushing wind, men singing weakly in the background, creaking]

Hickey (shouting): Bugger Nelson! Bugger Jesus! Bugger Joseph and Mary! Bugger the Archbishop of Canterbury! None ever wanted nothing from me! 

SH: When you offer the Tuunbaq the tongue, and there’s that pause, what’s gonna happen, and he bites your arm off instead, and that look on your face of just, you know, “You too have failed me.”

DS: Et tu?

[laughter] 

“Et tu, Tuunbaq?”

[laughter]

AN: “Et tu, Tuunbaq,” that’s a great T-shirt. But that scene, I drifted, but that scene in particular, is a slight difference to what his plan was, which was to climb the hill, sacrifice the men, sacrifice the tongue, and to become one with the Tuunbaq and to take my place on the throne in this new realm. And to find the answers and maybe, you know, climb through to a different realm, or who knows what. This empire was now my empire, which was the culmination of all of Hickey through his entire life has been leading to this point, and he’s quietened himself enough to hear it, and then suddenly he gets sick, because somebody poisons him. And so it’s a slightly different feeling, as he’s climbing the hill, and it’s a different--something else is happening inside him. He’s still perfectly capable of executing his plan, he gets carried away in that scene, and then by the time the Tuunbaq appears, he kind of focuses again, and becomes very excited. It’s a relationship with the Tuunbaq, it’s a dance, that everything is for him and the Tuunbaq. Everyone else is irrelevant. 

[show audio]

[Tuunbaq snuffling, boat chain clanking]

[the Tuunbaq roars, sound of chomping flesh, then the screeching sound of the soul being eaten]

SH: And what he gets so wrong about the Tuunbaq, and I think what a lot of the Western characters in our show get wrong about the Tuunbaq, is that the Tuunbaq is not a deity, the Tuunbaq doesn’t ask to be a god, right? All it is is just this arbiter of what is good or what is not good for the land, you know, there’s no sense of the Tuunbaq wanting to be the ultimate creative force here, and I think that’s where Hickey was wrong, right?

AN: I think he sees it as a supernatural creature, and again, because everything comes through him, and the universe revolves around him, that it’s a challenge for him, it’s a question for him, and he deals a lot in questions as opposed to answers, and what his position is in the universe, and by the time he meets this creature that eats souls--and the creature’s sick, and it’s because he hasn’t united with it yet! It’s because of me that it’s sick, it hasn’t, I haven’t been in contact with it, and we haven’t united ourselves and taken over this empire, and he doesn’t see it for what it is. SH: And when you guys see the Tuunbaq’s death in the very end of that sequence, how did you guys feel?

DS: Speaking for the novelist here, I was surprised; and then I got through the surprise and thought yeah. And then I immediately wondered how Lady Silence would have to pay for this death, ‘cause you’d already shown me that she’s in charge of protecting the Tuunbaq, so it was controlling it in some way, and she wasn’t really up to the task, so I liked that in going, when Crozier’s with the Inuit band, learning that she’s been punished and sent out by herself. But the Tuunbaq’s death itself just seemed right at that time. 

[show audio]

[Tuunbaq’s death scene--growling noises, boat chain clinking, Crozier struggling] 

AN: It was a horrible thing to watch, as a viewer, it was so sad, and it spoke to me of this sort of contemporary sort of--to me it was sort of a global warming issue, not to bring it ‘round, but it was sort of like, that’s it, they’ve killed it. 

SH: No, absolutely, yeah! 

AN: They’ve killed it, they’ve killed the Tuunbaq and we’re actually rejoicing at Crozier’s survival. But really, the man deserves death, with the creature that creates balance to this culture should be alive. And we have this upside down world that we are celebrating, which is so, you know, intelligent of you guys to create, and it’s difficult to take, but that creature is gone, and so balance is gone, and here we are. 

DK: The very specific and subtle thing that we put in the show that probably no will decode it ‘til they hear this podcast, but was important to us as a structural element, was Sir John dies, when he’s killed down the fire hole in episode three, he has some flashes of subjective kinds of hallucinations, I suppose, or visions, I don’t know what you would call them. But one of them is of open water, it’s just a vista of the future of the Arctic, that there are going to be these, you know, that there’s going to be a huge melt, and there’s going to be all this open water. And for the final shot we tried to match, as much as we could, the angle, so that all of that frozen water that Crozier is sitting on at that seal hole would maybe possibly evoke that memory, to speak to what you’re saying, Adam, which is that this whole thing is a kind of, from the Netsilik’s point of view, it’s a huge tragedy in which these Europeans are the terrors, in a way. And not to be too reductive about it, but, you know, we wanted the season to have that kind of change of polarity, which is one reason why we couldn’t quite use the sort of the ending of the book, as much as we loved it, Dan, it felt like a lot of things that would feel--that would pull the point of view of the season across that line too much and too late. We wanted to try to modulate it a little bit so that every episode felt like you were giving some room in your point of view for Lady Silence’s perspective, or the Inuit’s perspective, and that that change would sort of happen so slowly you might not even notice that it was happening at all, which is one reason why we made that decision. 

DS: You gave every character I saw room to have his or her own apotheosis, which is a big theme with you guys, I meant, the arcs end and people becoming someone else. Crozier grows into his leadership, I think, beautifully. Maybe he deserved punishment, but I found Crozier and his empathy, as Fitzjames is dying in the boat, it’s Crozier that touches him and lets him know, you know, through physical contact, that he’s not alone. And giving them room is unusual. I just find there’s so many unusual elements to what you three have created, that, I have to warn you, I think it deserves a lot of intelligent attention.

DK: Well I hope we can volley a lot of those right back to the book, Dan. Well we should take some time at the end to--given that after the sequence, this really becomes almost a kind of silent film to deliver the ending to Crozier’s arc--to really sing the praises of Jared Harris in this show, I mean, what he did with this role is remarkable. So, Dan, I would love to know what you thought of Jared Harris’s Francis Crozier? 

DS: After watching the ten episodes of him and all those, and watching what he did with it, I just wanted him to adopt me. 

[laughter]

SH: He would love that! 

DS: But it certainly--leading is the operative word, isn’t it? He just, he didn’t give 100 or 1000 percent, he gave more than that to the character. He became Crozier for me. I’m the one who had to dream up the man, and see what he looked like, and write about him for about 1100 pages, 700 finally in type, and so I had my Crozier, he was pretty solid. But now Jared Harris is Crozier. There’s no doubt in my mind.

DK: The ending of the season is quite different from the ending of the book, Dan, how did you feel watching the ending of the show, and, in all candor, do you feel that it was satisfying? Do you feel that it was at least a good companion piece for the ending of the book? 

DS: Well I’m glad I didn't video record my reaction the first time I saw the different ending, because speaking for two million readers I stood up and shouted, “What's wrong with my ending!”

[laughter]

“Is it chopped liver?” And I realized it would be. I realized that I don’t think you could have taken my ending and made it a sensible finale visually in the way it went. So I tracked--the whole episodes, the last two episodes, were enlightenment to me, because I’m just a viewer now, I’m watching something I didn’t create, these are not my ideas, so I sat back and enjoyed it, as horrible as they were. So when I watch your ending, the only thing I was bothered by was I’m sentimental. And the real Crozier, I believe, and certainly the fictional Crozier that we’ve all created, was so lonely, he was so alone in life, I think he was less alone than Crozier was, and, you know, rejected by Franklin’s niece several times from marriage, a life where he really felt rejection, probably more than Hickey did, and at the end I wanted him to be with someone. So as much as I liked your ending and I really thought it was proper and appropriate for the series, I woulda put a person next to him as he’s fishing out there in, you know, in his Inuit outfit at night waiting by a seal--he’s not fishing, he’s waiting by a seal breathing hole to kill it. So if I’d seen a glimpse of two of them, you wouldn’t even need to see their faces, you know, the sentimental side of me woulda been happy.

SH: But we leave that ambiguous in the ending, in terms of he’s not with Lady Silence, she, you know, had to pay the bill in some ways for the loss of the Tuunbaq and her destiny is to venture forth alone, and in some ways her storyline is the most tragic of all the characters in our show because, I mean, the price she paid is so harsh. But in terms of the last shot, which Dave and I just knew from pretty early on that was gonna be our last shot, and it felt right. We don’t know much about Crozier’s biography, you know? For all we know that child could be his, it may not. We actually didn’t want to fill in too much of the coloring book at that point. It’s up to the audience to describe whether or not that last shot is--it’s interesting ‘cause we had this big argument, lovely argument in the color suite, the grading suite, of how we grade that last shot. Whether we grade it bright and sunny to be optimistic, or we grade it with a lot of contrast and stamp down a lot of the light to make it seem that, you know, there’s a sense--a harshness, to this reality. And in some ways we split the middle, so the audience can decide whether or not the life Crozier has at the end is one of punishment, reckoning, or whether or not he will move on and have something different.

DK: And I think something in that final shot that certainly we couldn’t have planned, that tipped things in a warmer direction was the child that plays that boy in the shot, who’s meant to be sleeping against Crozier as he’s waiting at the seal hole, really fell asleep because he was wrapped up in fur, and Jared’s a very welcoming person, and he fell asleep. And in the middle of that shot he twitches in his sleep, like children do. And I think that if you catch that it’s quite undeniably a warm moment. You don’t know whether that’s Crozier’s son, whether that’s just a friend’s son, someone he’s taking care of, but you do get a sense that there is a community and that it’s a warm one, even though that life will be difficult and he will occupy no position of leadership in that world, he will be--you know, he’s missing a hand at that point, it’s going to be a rough rough road ahead of him, but we decided to sort of be as ambiguous as we could but for that child who twitches in his sleep, which we just loved that, that that’s a part of that final shot of the show.

DS: Now you’ve made me wanna go back watch that scene about ten times. I think you did at the ending essentially what you chose to do throughout the series, which is to trust in the intelligence and the sensibilities of the audience. So in that sense I like it a lot, but I admire it too. It just, I’m just sentimental, I just want Crozier finally to find somebody.

[show audio]

[”The Gates of Paradise” by Robert Fripp, which is the music from that aforementioned final scene of Crozier and the little boy asleep at the seal hole, plays] 

SH: And with episode ten, the story of the Franklin Expedition on AMC is completed. And Dave, you’ve been working on this project now for ten or twelve years, I’ve been on it for two and a half years, Adam you’ve been on this journey for a long time, Dan you’ve probably been--how long has it been for you?

DS: Oh, since about 1994!

SH: Yeah, wow. I mean, what is it about this story that means it’s hard to let go? Even now I feel like there’s a grieving process that I feel like I have.

DS: I know why it’s hard to let go. You created real people, you did something that is incredibly rare I think, for any media, movies, series, anything. They’re real people, and when they suffer the viewer suffers with them. When they try to fight back and survive, that’s the viewer’s impression, and we’re sorry to see each one of them go, including Hickey. So, I think there’s a success in what you set out to do. 

SH: We’re just so thrilled that, you know, you gave us the trust to do your book but also that you love it! We were so nervous that you would hate this adaptation!

[laughter]

DK: Well and now what’s amazing is we all get to sort of take a seat in the theater of real history playing out again, now that they’ve discovered the ships. You know, we’ve been told by Parks Canada and by people we’ve met who are actively on the archeological expeditions now, dives to the ships, that there is a chance that they will find a ship’s log, and that all of the questions that have come up and perplexed us and preoccupied us and fascinated us in the researching of both the writing of the novel and the creating of the television show, that those questions may have answers soon. And so now we are all now back in that position of being riveted by this actual history. And what a treat it will be to have a conversation in a year when we have learned hopefully much more about what actually happened on this expedition. 

[“The Gates of Paradise” begins playing again softly in the background]

DS: If I were on the expedition ship and found the log, the diaries, everything, I would hide them.

[laughter]

DK: Agreed.

AN: Yep, absolutely. 

DS: I mean we’ve all done a lot of work here, who cares about reality? 

[laughter]

DK: Well thank you, Adam, thank you Dan, for joining us, Soo and I have had a fantastic time having this extended conversation that hopefully is interesting to people who have watched and appreciated the show. So thank you for the opportunity to do it, it’s been fantastic to talk to you both, and onwards we go, into the future!

SH: Onwards ho!

DS: Onward.

AN: Onward. Thank you so much guys, it’s been a pleasure.

DK: Thank you, and thank you for everyone who’ve watched the show and thank you for everyone who’ve read the novel, and we can’t wait to hear your feedback!

[“The Gates of Paradise” fades out]