#but i cannot allow myself to hope bc I Will Die

[magnoliaalchemist]

my party trick is drinking one cider too fast and then getting sick from it

[hedwig221b]

20 questions for fic writers!

Thank you for tagging me @thotpuppy! I'm reading everybody's answers, it's so fun!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

46. Though only 14 of them in English.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

582,115 holy shit

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Teen Wolf. I've translated for Sherlock before, though.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. The Happiest of All (Sterek, Explicit, 32,5k, ER, Angst, Miscommunication, Stiles runs away from Derek thinking it's for the best. He's wrong) 2. Untouchable (Sterek, Explicit, 17,1k, ABO, Univesity!AU, Courting, Stiles is the new hot omega, bad boy!Derek is the only one allowed to get close) 3. Safe (Sterek, Not Rated, 974, ER, TW Movie Fix-it.) 4. Wait For Me (Sterek, Mature, 64,6k, Spark!Stiles, Cursed sterek, very soft and desperate, forever love) 5. Treasure (Sterek, Explicit, 71,2k, Historical AU, Courting, Heavy Angst, Derek saves Stiles and baby Eli from gold-digging suitors in the most feral and tender way possible)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I answer each and every one, except for emojis. I also stopped responding to comments on Safe because it exploded so quickly and there was an avalanche of comments and I got anxious and I'm still overwhelmed SORRY

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I cannot decide between Wait For Me and Treasure. In both Stiles loses people, willingly or not, and it's devastating that this is something he will have to live with. But both have happy endings, don't worry.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Lmao, it's pwp Devoured (Sterek, Explicit, 5,2k, Sex God!Derek, Human Sacrifice!Stiles). I mean, Stiles is getting fucked by Derek in front of the dozens of deities, and everyone is jealous of them.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, people have been very nice to me. Some people don't like how soft my Stiles is but it's whatever. However, I anticipate the hate from a certain character defense squad for the fic that's coming out in November. I hope they'll never find it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep. It's porn with feelings. And they MUST hold hands. Stiles moans and whimpers and Derek has a filthy mouth. Both are feral sluts for each other. Also monsterfucking. It's Derek Hale's fault, don't look at me, look at his tiddies

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, and, please, don't start

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. Though, I, myself, translated a lot of fics. It's a unique and wonderful experience. I don't think authors realize how deep into their heads we crawl, how we dissect every paragraph, every sentence, how much we immerse ourselves to convey what the author was trying to say. Some fics I banged my head over, they were so hard to translate. Others were so easy and wonderful, it was a joy to work with them. Yes, the last one was Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt. I fucking loved working on it so much.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and I don't see myself doing so.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

STEREK

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Listen. Mutual pining!Sterek, established!Cordia. In order to save the pack from the Monster of the Week, Stiles and Lydia have to work together to defeat it, and they cannot tell anybody what they're doing bc the pack will die if they do. Naturally, the cheating rumors start. Cora is furious, Derek is devastated. Stiles and Lydia see how much it hurts their loved ones, but they would rather have them heartbroken than dead. Only when Stiles kisses Derek goodbye before going to die for his pack, do they realize that something's amiss. It's so angsty and so epic and I've had this idea for over a year.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Purple prose. Conveying emotions. ANGST. I will make it my life mission to make my readers cry.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes (including smut because sex is an action scene). Sentences have to be quick, short, with lots of verbs and not a lot of time for emotions. I am not made for that! I try, though, I'm learning, HOLD ON. I also take a long time preparing for super emotional scenes, I just sit there and stare at the monitor and breathe anxiously.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Not a full dialogue, but small words like endearments HELL YES! I had an absolute blast with Treasure, having Stiles call Eli cute pet names in Polish. I feel somewhat comfortable with including Polish, bc my native language has the same/similar roots (?), so I understand when the Google Translate is spewing bullshit at me. I'd love Derek to speak more Spanish, but I know that GT is shit, so I have to stay away. Believe me, I know what it's like to read something in your native language and cringe bc of how wrong it is.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Sigh. Sherlock. I translated a fic and it ended up being an overnight hit and it's still the most popular Johnlock fic I've ever translated. The first fic I wrote myself was for Teen Wolf, Sterek. I would probably die from cringe if I looked at it now.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Treasure MY BABY MY LOVE MY FAVORITE CHILD ugh I'm so proud of it, of Stiles, of Eli and Derek in it. It's incredibly raw. I'm also currently writing a fic that's going to come very close to being my favourite. Maybe, even surpass Treasure. But now, I can say with all my heart that Treasure is my best work. Second is The Happiest of All.

This has been insightful and fun. Not tagging anyone, feeling shy, if you want you can steal the questions (hidden below)

20 questions for fic writers!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

[liverobinreaction]

Chum Liveblog - Chapter 1

So i already read this chapter but will read it again bc it fucks. Go read Chum by @reachartwork if you like baby superheroes with weird powers. Mute the tag #chum liveblog if you arent interested! I might also move this to my main @bugbeee if people prefer that

1) the writing style draws me in immediately since the way the narrator (Sam) thinks and talks is so very reminiscent of my own adhd riddled brain. The way she notices one thing before immediately moving to the next detail is just. Chefs kiss

2) the tapa tapa tapa does something to my hindbrain. Like literary asmr.

3) god Sam's awkwardness and hesitance about her accident combined with her bluntness is so fucking good

4) SHARK TEETH SHARK TEETH SHARK TEETH

5) SHARK TEETH WITH DRAWBACKS HOT DAMN

6) “I didn’t get any gills though, which would’ve been cool. I can’t breathe underwater. But I think I can swallow salt water, but that’s kind of a sh- kind of a poopy superpower so you don’t need to write that one down. Don’t write that one down, please?” I would die for you Sam

7) god the author is so good at writing the livewire nervousness that accompanies the MC. Like the little details of bouncing knees and flexing hands that she grabs to stop, the tapping and moving- i love you so much for this

8) her mom taught her the word austere :)

9) ohhh she's got those bruce the shark powers (sniffing blood)

10) god her asking if the officer needs her friends contact numbers like the fbi shes just a KID

11) ohoho JLUMA??? desperate to know the acronym meaning for that. Its something shes applied for and its a license so hmmm [thinky face]

12) the way she gets annoyed over her parents gushing over her its so teenager i love her. Also she did so good at her bat mitzvah :)

13) "Once I get my license, does that mean I can go out and start biting people? Not that I plan to do that, I’m just wondering.” Yeah does she know i would die for her???

14) sam says acab fuck yeah

15) Officer Gold shrugs his shoulders and opens the front door, clearly also trying to escape the situation like I am. “Well, who knows. A supe just got elected to City Council. Maybe you’ll be the first superhuman senator if you stay in school and focus on your studies?” Oh that is a fucking gorgeous piece of foreshadowing/world building. Frothing at the mouth rn

16) THE CATEGORIES time to toss the worm categories out of my brain

17) breakdown of her powers a la government dossier! God its fascinating to see how its classified and seen in this world

18) AND WE HAVE AN ACRONYM MEANING 'Juvenile License to Utilize Metahuman Abilities' holy shit theres so much unsaid in that. When did it come about, how, whats its scope (which was briefly touched upon) etc. i cannot WAIT

19) bad dream/flashback? Its written so well and sams commentary of it feels real. "The situation is fucked beyond repair. I think I’m allowed to say that now."

20) oh my fucking god. "I hope I don’t die right now, because thinking about my parents being sad at my funeral makes me sad, but also, I hope I do die, because if I have to live one more second with this kind of pain I’m going to kill myself, myself." Author. Author. Who gave you the RIGHT to hit me like that

21) her realisation about why shes in so much pain, seeing her grandpa screaming through the water, the fishing metaphors- aughhhhhhhh

22) god i love the continued mention of words her mom has taught her its just. So fucking real of her

Conclusion: holy fucking shit what an absolute BANGER of a first chapter. I am hooked. I am printing this out and eating it. Thank you author for writing this, I will read more tomorrow

[afaramir]

I love your posts about Denethor and Faramir. I'm always glad to see someone who loves both him and Faramir and gets that Denethor being this hugely impressive tragic figure makes Faramir so much better and more interesting. The relationship between them is so complex and I love it so much. The film versions make me angry as well.

oh man thank you so much...i find it kinda crazy that you're saying this to me bc im pretty sure i have a bunch of posts from your denethor tag sitting around in my drafts so i can look back at them later. many days i feel very much like an Amateur Denethor Enjoyer but i am thrilled that me just kind of being unhinged on the dash has brought you joy. and get ready bc here i go again LOL

yeah exactly what you said...denethor's tragedy informs and is informed by faramir so so so much and it's just kind of wild to me that on the tragedy enjoyers website so many people refuse to see it. on the second-best enjoyers website...the guilt-and-despair enjoyers website...the "the unimaginable has happened and i AM going to kill people and then myself" enjoyers website...i could go on! he is literally doomed by the narrative and just goes well ok fuck you i WILL die at the end but it will NOT be in the way the narrative wants me to.

it is truly the relationship of all time. faramir does love his father and yet because of the strength of his principles he is genuinely incapable of showing it in a way that denethor can understand. and denethor loves him too but after a certain point just cannot show it anymore because duty has to take precedence. he's not allowed to give faramir any quarter even in private. and YES that includes anything that would resemble a normal emotion. ngl i wouldn't be surprised if that's the only way faramir is like. LETTING him communicate with him. like i feel like the final assault on osgiliath is not the first time faramir's taken the "if you want to get me to do something you ARE going to have to order me to do it" stance. and yet denethor tries. at the end he takes trying to an unhinged level. idk it often feels like even in the general fandom insistance on one-dimensionally dickish denethor there's somehow also a lack of understanding that it IS a toxic expression of love but that doesn't make it not love. like He's Not Winning Dad Of The Year that is not what we're saying at all. we're saying is "it was born of love. it was a terrible thing yet born of love." thats all! that's why it's so tragic because it's all about love!!! augh...

ok i don't typically put quotations from my own writing in like real posts but also ive been thinking about the faramir goes to rivendell au 24/7 and i just. HAVE to pull this line bc it kind of captures exactly how i feel about the denethor-and-faramir mutual Character Honing.

Yet he [Faramir] cannot deny that each of them sharpens himself upon the whetstone of the other, and it is a debt he loathes to owe and yet cannot hope to repay.

i mean.......like are you picking up what im putting down! like! AAA! both in-narrative and out of it they are always ALWAYS making each other better (or worse. but worse in a More Interesting Way) but AT WHAT COST!!! he loves his father he would not be the man he is today without his father both in a good and bad way he HATES that these two things are true. faramir and denethor are not foils they're parallels they build each other's characters up when you put them next to each other!! faramir is who denethor wouldve couldve been without the war!! hey hang on a second is denethor who faramir would've become if he were the lord steward during the war of the ring? (this is a little reductive i think faramir's susceptibility to despair is quite different to his father's. and i wonder how long his gentleness would've prevailed / worked side by side with his duty instead of being diametrically opposed to it. but anyway. well i'll be thinking about THAT for the rest of the night. i cannot start another au i cannot i cannot i cannot). anyway you can't get one of them without getting the other and that is all...

man i always say like oh don't get me started on movie faramir and denethor and then the don't think of an elephant effect GETS me and it gets me started. last night i genuinely said like "well i won't get into it" and then three hours later it was 2am and it was so very clear that i had Gotten Into It. i had to tell our other roommate like "tell me when ur going to bed i am talking about denethor and i will be yelling." my roommate just came home and i told her about this post and then i had to explain a detail and she SET ME A THREE MINUTE TIMER bc she was like i have to go study. and that's fair

anyway i hope you are having a good night/day/whatever time it is for you. thank you for this ask it is always fun to see you pop up in my notifs whenever im denethorposting lol

[mlmxreader]

Hello again! As always, hope all is good with you.

Mea culpa for the 50th ask today but the second I saw you roll up on my dash, and the fact that it was a part 2 to Feisty, I just had to read it immediately 😅.

"Genuinely, go shit in your hands and clap," you huffed, daring to smile to yourself.

😍😍😍😍 I love them with all my freaking heart. Are you smiling??? 👀 we catching some feelings there? 🤭

Alfie leaned forward, tilting your newspaper down slightly so that you had to look at him. "I can see you smilin' there, treacle, c'mon. Admit you like me."

AHHHHH!!! Have to do no such thing, but also yeah, yup, yes we really freaking do, but will we admit that to you, ABSOLUTELY fucking not.

"I'd rather get a hot poker shoved up my arse," you scoffed. "You can fuck off."

Genuinely took a spit take when I read this line. Like what a reply 🤣! This reader by far has to be one of my all time favorites for the reader inserts I've read for Alfie (and I've read pretty much all of them). Like I absolutely cannot with how much I love them. Not only do they not put up with shit but they fully could not give a rads ass that they are speaking like this to THE King of Camden Town. Badass through and through.

"If you must," you sighed. "If you have to annoy me constantly."

"I ain't makin' that promise," Alfie laughed. "You're too charmin' and fuckin' feisty for me to stop annoyin'."

Cheeky but fully honest. Get you a manz that can do both, simultaneously 😂.

You leaned into the touch a little, but not enough to let him think that you liked him. Of course you didn't.

Phesh, of course not. Very convincing. For flipping sure. 👀😉. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. Hehehe.

Having to sit on his lap to patch up the wound, huh? Okay, okay. Yup. That's good. Approved. Everything seems perfectly fine here.

"Y'know," he mused. "I really fuckin' do like you."

Oh my goodness, like actually I don't even know how to properly thank you for this! Like I said earlier, this is for sure one of my favorite reader inserts for Alfie. They are just as stubborn as the Mad Baker and that crack wipe of a tongue... yeah they have my whole heart. It's so refreshing to see a reader like this, seriously, thank you so much because it actually allowed me to see myself in the insert in a way that I've not felt in many other works.

Like really, you have no idea what it means that you accepted and wrote these requests, genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you oh so very much 🖤🖤🖤.

🐍anon

LISTEN, IF YOU WANNA SEND 5O ASKS A DAY? YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY MORE THAN WELCOME TO DO SO!!!! GENUINELY, GO FOR IT!!!!!

"why are you smiling 🤨🤨🤨🤨" WE KNOW WHY, C'MON. GIVE EM ANOTHER 1K THEY'LL BE SNOGGING BEHIND THE NEWSPAPER SHOP

reader is so stubborn you literally wouldn't be able to beat it out of them that they like Alfie even a LITTLE BIT 😭😭

listen, they are a small business owner in 1920s Camden - they do not have TIME to deal w Alfie's shit. they have a business to run and employees to look after, Alfie is NOT a priority for them!

the more the reader bites at him, the more Alfie's drawn in so it's literally a case of "they're so mean... I love them." - bullying is their love language 🫶🏻

they sat on his lap bc of "the angle" like uh-huh. and I drink Monster bc I like the taste and not the caffeine content, c'mon. the Nile is a river in Egypt.

Idek how to respond just know that I would absolutely die for you, anon, and I would put John Wick to shame to defend you 🫶🏻

[piplupod]

i have finished packing everything i can pack before tomorrow morning except for a couple food items, and i just need to do dishes tonight and then doublecheck i'm good on packing and then i will have a nice hot shower while sitting down and then i will go to sleep and hopefully not wake up at 5:30 for a third night in a row !!

also i highly recommend tortellini + pesto + bacon + chopped cucumber !!! that was my dinner tonight and it was such a treat and its the first time i've enjoyed eating in a few weeks !!!

double also !! i get to reconnect and see a friend from highschool (who moved away while i was in the psych ward) for the first time in four years starting on friday, AND i might get to see a couple friends that i've never met in person before so this is like. so insane. i cannot really grasp it fdsjlk it doesnt feel real at all. and then i also get to see a broadway performance of Cats, one of my favourite musicals???

im fhsdgjkl like... this kind of thing does not happen to me !!! i have not been thinking about any of this at all bc i feel like either smth is going to go disastrously wrong and i will be crushed if i allow myself to be excited at all, OR that i will wake up and none of it will be real fsdgjkl. but we leave tomorrow morning so like. as long as we do not get into a terrible car accident or the truck breaks down and as long as none of the three friends die or get terribly injured then ,,, this will all happen,,, and i am not sure how to hold all of this in the little birdcage in my chest cavity. i feel like i am going to explode a little bit bc there is too much hope in me for the first time in over a year fdgjkl, i have not been glad that i am not dead for a long time and it feels scary but nice i think :')

oh and last thing sorry i just thought it was really sweet but we are taking an RV camper thingy for this trip, and last night when one of the kids in the brain/system was talking to our very good friend they called it a "little house box" and i love that so much fsdgjkl what a sweet way to think of it !!

[bibbleboo]

god im sorry but i just. cannot stop thinking about the protest i went to when tr*mp was first elected. and how it was literally not once violent yet there were drones and helicopters and snipers on roofs and police literally Everywhere from the start. and how our main speaker had to ask us to watch out for each other and not stand off to the sides bc police were quietly snatching ppl off the edges of the crowd to detain them. and how they took some of the main organizers and held them in interrogation for like 8 hours as soon as it started and how we had to leave later that day not knowing when or if they were gonna be released. and how the people continued to march from city hall to another protest area and were being pulled over by cops to be questioned/stalled. and how the media used that overappearance of police force to make us out to be more aggressive than we were. and how it felt like ppl were literally being picked off one by one just for existing there and how many children were in that crowd and women telling sexual assault stories and poc begging to feel safe and how there were Snipers on the Roof and How They Let The White Supremacy Terrorists Break Into Thee Fucking >>>White House,<<<

[teacup-tai]

Summer Fics by Tai

I just wanted to rant a bit and reflect on the last 2 months. Well, this summer came with sadness. My 14 years long relationship came to an end, or maybe a semi-colon (I hope so). I had SO MANY emotions going on! So I stress read as always and wrote SEVEN FICS(!!!) only six posted, after months of writer's block.

I'm writing this post because I want to appreciate myself and creativity and resilience and all these nice stories that I managed to write in a very short amount of time. I'm proud of all them, they are *so diverse* and *so special* in their own ways:

Breaking wild roses (stings like love's pain) - 1.4k, E, Pansmione

I feel like a scream is stuck inside my chest, creeping up in the deep dark hollow of my throat. It’s a mix of pain and agony. So to keep it down, I open my mouth and fill it with your soft, tender flesh. The bronze skin of your shoulder right against my tongue.

I'm honestly proud of this smut with feels and I need to thank special people who helped, be prompting or betaing this story; thank you @the-starryknight, @sketchyblondes @phenomenalasterisk

The Truth Runs Wild - 3k, E, Blairon

It’s Harry’s fault and his whole ‘gay awakening’ and all the shit he had to hear Harry talk him through, in the name of friendship and supportive brotherhood. But honestly, if Zabini licking his lips can be this sensual, what could he do with a dick in his mouth? Ron flushes, because he cannot be honestly thinking about Blaise Zabini and blowjobs. Like, he’s straight, right. Right?

and it's sequel: Only Fools Fall - 5.3k, E, Blairon

Blaise planted a kiss against Ron’s temple and moved away to watch him with big black attentive eyes. “I only wanna make you feel good,” he assured him. And Ron felt himself blush, because Zabini was looking soft and warm and it was making things inside Ron’s chest turn and pull. This was getting way too real. Or: Ron wants more, then he gets pretty confused. So Tai decided to write a Blaise/Ron love story out of it.

This wouldn't have happened without the nonnie who boldly asked my opinion on Blairon, lol. And without the amazing help of this lovely alpha-beta crew: @erajakira , @olliemaye, @crazybutgood . I had such great fun writing these fics, I'm in love with this universe for real! Blairon for the win! this wouldn't be the same without the mutual hype of @thusspoketrish and @anaxandria-writes for our lovely August with Gusto: Blasie Zabini Appreciation Month!

For God is Love - 3k, M, Drarry

1 John 4:8 But anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love. Or: Tai decided to write a religious AU fic, in which draco and harry are catholic priests, bc I wanted to read it :)

Got the amazing help of @corvuscrowned and Jay, and honestly if it weren't for @tackytigerfic also enjoying this trope it wouldn't have happened. I LOVED writing such a different trope and mood than I normally write. So thank you y'all!

Space Bodies - 1.5k, M, Drarry

She tastes like a love story. Or: my dream came true and I wrote a drarry fic with trans!draco being this gorgeous woman and I can die happy now.

It made my day to write this fic for the @drarrymicrofic with the amazing help of @softlystarstruck, @atgranger and Logan.

Claraboia - microfic, Drarry

"Look what I've found," Draco says in a surprised and tender voice. Harry is still learning all the nuances of his voice and this one is new.

BIG thank you to @onbeinganangel and @the-starryknight for making me dive into the microfic realm.

I also want to thank InnerLilith for betaing a gen fic about Pansy that is not pubished yet. And all the amazing friends from the drarry squad that keep me going when life is shit, specially @sitp-recs who holds my hand when time zone allows and hypes me up.

THANK YOU TO ALL MY READERS! YOU MADE SUCH A DIFFERENCE IN MY SUMMER SADNESS, YOU HAVE NO IDEA!

I got a new job in a new city and I'm moving out tomorrow. I dunno when I will be able to write in the forseeable future. BUT THANK YOU. This last year has been filled with up and downs. And me being back to the drarry fandom is @quicksilvermaid fault, bc of the @hd-hurtfest from last year. Without your prompt I wouldn't have written my sadass drarry fic, and stayed for the long run, and so many things in my life changed bc of that fic. I'm emotionally healthier now and I'm moving forwards, thanks Q!

Cheers folks! Sending love, tai.

[theringers]

V-card anon: hi sorry about that first ask i kinda went into a fugue state (spelling?) altered state of reality maybe when i wrote that and damn near outlined a fic in your inbox

The way we played hot seat was either part of a larger drinking game when a certain card was pulled from a deck, or just on it's own. You sit in a circle, everyone has a drink, usually a beer or cider. In the card pull version, the one who pulls the card gets asked a question by every person playing and if they refuse to answer they drink from their drink. In the standalone, you do that but everyone gets a turn being asked until people get bored and leave. Fun way to find out shit about people. Usually the unwritten rule is that you can't lie. I imagine everyone sitting on shitty chouches and chairs in a semi circle around a table full of cups and bottles playing it

Questions i have been asked: are you a top or bottom? Do you like anal? Wheres the weirdest place you've fucked? Body count? Favorite position (sexual)? Fuck marry kill/ignore people in this room (EVERY TIME I PLAYED I GOT THIS QUESTION)? Tits or ass or other? Favorite non sexual body part ex. Thigh? Ideal fuck buddy? Sex regrets? Etc

Also more weird details i have head cannoned out for some drivers and most likely does not fit with irl personalities, do with this what you will, use it or don't i just have feelings. Also everyone is like compressed in age to like 20-27ish except for some of the grid who i will just think of as younger alumns who come back:

Danny R: social chair, owns a jeep he takes the doors off of in the summer, walks girls home at night to make sure they're ok, tries to DJ house events and is rebuffed by literally everyone, has like 30 pairs of vans you trip over in his room, stolen roadsigns everywhere, masters in something arigcultural or physiological, cutoff frat shirts for days, fuckboy but nice, a bit cringe, will drive around with you at night so you can scream, met reader bc she had a band tee on and wanted to talk to her about it (no gatekeeping)

Charles: some kind of engineering or math degree but no one has any idea how the fuck he's gotten so far, 4.0 never studies, games with other house members, will show up at events randomly you will have no idea how he gets on your couch but he is there, the best and worst taste in clothes, is the only one allowed to play the piano in the house, sweet, cannot help you with studies but is always down for helping you out after, has to be reminded to clean stuff, disaster bi, reader met his gf first and they probably met through that

Pierre: good fashion and music taste, shirt is gone halfway through the night, also fuckboy but wholesome, actually studies, plays a sport for sure probably soccer in some way either club or Division he's too good for rec, will hold your hair back so you can throw up, will tell you your outfit sucks, good at math, also part of the squad that games, econ major, workout buddies with reader anday have taken a math class together

Max: is part of the hockey team he will go pro, also actually studies, got into gaming because of Charles, has the nicest car, is serious until he gets a couple drinks in him, he and Daniel are close and roomed together at some point, owns like 30 sets of the same outfit a white tee and jeans, knows reader through Dan and they get dragged by him to some of the same stuff

Lando: is a pledge or new member his big is Carlos, undeclared major, just happy to be here, gaming squad, used to play lacrosse or something equally obscure, king of knowing where the good snacks are, weirdly good at beer pong, growing into a fuckboy wholesomeness level tbd, probably sweet with reader as she helped him through a blackout or something, met her because she's basically house mom for some of the new boys (the kind of mom who will teach you to do laundry or iron ONCE)

Carlos: hockey flow but does not play hockey, actually studies and is smarter than what people give him credit for, came from a private high school and uni really opened his horizons, also good study buddy, gets along with most people, goes to office hours the most out of the actually studies gang, fun at parties, owns the frat dogs, he and reader met at Office hours (they were the only students) and found they had mutual friends too

Lewis: is/was president of frat, great grades greater bod, did full evolution from fuckboy to good man, has the back tests and the moral support, up for late noght talks about life, definitely was a D1 athlete, best fashion game, implemented no hazing policy, fits into notable alum or PhD category

Mick: undergrad like Lando, also plays soccer or something, too sweet, also walks girls home/holds your hair back etc, cleans parts of the house that aren't his responsibility, higher alcohol tolerance than you expect, everyone is bizarrely protective of him, legacy member (his dad was a legend), drives a motorbike around campus and can't decide between law and psychology, actually studies, met reader through the frat and she would die for him, brings her to class on the bike sometimes because the bike is faster

George: business major, frat treasurer, three ring binder business casual in class kind of guy, nice enough, shirt comes off when drunk, runs marathons and a podcast about investments, best notes in the game and great study partner, actually studies, is drinking monster at 6AM but not because he stayed up late, he and reader met through the frat and sometimes drink wine and bitch together

Lance: hockey player, legacy member, studies sometimes, sarcasm on point, great at stack cup, very chill, knows every good nap spot on campus, also has high alcohol tolerance, is the kind of person who does well in the cold but does not like it, wears headphones so people don't talk to him, great one on one but not in crowds, business major and minor in computer science, probably also met thru Lance's gf but vibe as more introverted people and will cover for each other if one does not want to go out

Nicky: a good boy, part of the walks people home squad, sets up designated drivers for parties, good snack game, future in medical field, good listener, pretty good study buddy, midnight snack enabler, met reader through frat and his gf he and reader are on babysitting duty together sometimes when others get too drunk/high

Yuki: also a pledge or new, majoring in games or computer science as they gave me the same energy as him, games squad, bit of a mad lad, has several stolen street signs, good, met reader through frat and Yuki is the only one patient enough to explain some games to reader, they cuss people out on mic

Esteban: good man, has a full ride scholarship, actually studies, also good study buddy, Dan's little, plays soccer but maybe on a rec team because he prioritizes school, very sweet guy as well, probably chose a really practical major/dual major, met reader through Dan and are also dragged similar places by him

Antonio: manbun, philosophy or classics major possibly business dual, generally good natured but can be seen supplying his own wine at parties, used to be really into metal but kept the hair, does not know that people find him attractive, soccer boi, met reader through frat and she's the only one who will (pretend) to listen to him rant about philosophy

Alex Albon: another full scholarship guy, somehow gets along with everyone, switched majors due to an asshole professor, electrical engineering or computer engineering, actually studies, helps with frat pets,will show you pictures of his cats at home, sweetie, another contender for will hold your hair or walk you home, probably met reader through a class or club and found they had mutual friends and that reader is friends with his gf

Notable alums:

Checo - dad, successful in finance somehow (he looks like an really successful accountant of CFO to me idk why)

Kimi - dad but people forget he is, holds the record for most drinks in 24 hours that will never be come close to by anyone else, shows up on random alum weekends with 2 kegs, legally cannot tell you what he does or he would actually have to murder you

Valterri - was good at a sport when he was there, now a very effective lead engineer at an architectural firm

Seb - environmental or mechanical engineering, all around good guy with someone the best grades in frat history

Alonso - legendary for sexual exploits (consensual)

Anyone I put as actually studies is probably the type reader would hang around for more serious stuff/schoolwork and would probably be closer to, with the exception of Dan bc I feel like he'd be like we're friends now :)) we shall hang or Charles bc he will just show up. I also imagine she has a pretty good friendship with any existing gf, however if a driver does have a gf and he is the love interest sorry bb girl u gotta go for the purposes of this fic

Sorry this is so long hahaaaaaaa glad you liked my Charles thoughts ilu

i honestly wasn’t going to share this like the rest of the anon asks i’ve gotten that i keep close to my heart but this was just too good to keep to myself.

LOOK! AT! THIS!

f1 drivers as frat bros/college students headcannon

i’m writing a series - each “chapter” will be a smut with a different frat bro and i’m hoping to post a sneak peek this week some time but here’s something to hold you over and give you some ideas

to my vcard anon - i appreciate this so much. my inbox is always open for ur thoughts bc they are SO GOOD !! can’t wait for you to read the first part of the series bby

PS if some of this doesn’t make sense to u feel free to send in asks (i know a lot of this is focused on american college culture so if u don’t get it i’m happy to explain)

[xsuchapainx]

I need to vent at least a bit… I don’t have much people in my life, tbh it’s always just one and currently it’s my bf with whom I have the most hard relationship ever. We r married bc of his papers, we are junkies plus I have really addictive personality as Im diagnosed with asperger I always charged my social energy/masking with it… plus after all the years Im left with oh god multiple mental shit I cannot really handle…we went tru two car crashes where the second one was him crashing on amfetamin and now he’s going through court shit. I only wanted us to have one good day without worrying about shit and IT WENT GREAT. I had one of the most beautiful days of my life till one old guy met us and lit forced our drunk asses to have a dinner and drinks with him. I in my lone-time did actually spent some time with old fucking dicks for cash and im 24/7 people pleaser I can’t say no even when I want to, instead I start just staring and leaving my body wich I loose almost any respect for. I in situations like that am hopeless… Back to the story I was hoping my bf will stand it and will drag me out of it if something happens… but well he didn’t, he let the old guy kiss me, in front of all the people that were sitting in the restaurant and ofc I didn’t pull myself away in a second, it took me time to realise and then I did, I started shaking and the old fucker started jerking under the table while touching my thighs, I wasn’t able to move I only felt small tears falling from my face. My bf was pissed but he didn’t do anything and I eventually made myself get my stuff and I left. When my bf came out he started yelling at me to give him the keys and I didn’t want to I knew he wants to leave me now bc I didn’t do anything about it n I was still so polite.Big drama on the street where I didn’t make a sound I just left the whole bag on the ground and decided to walk to one direction till i fell on the ground and I was honestly just trying to fucking breathe and the pain, anxiety and everything was burning me from inside out, everything blurry, everything fucked up. Eventually my bf came to me screaming sum shit how I fucked up, how i should have pull myself away in a second and all I knew I should have, I knew I fucked up…big time. I couldn’t get a sound of me n I was lit just trying to make myself die in the same place, I had broken vodka bottle in my bag as I threw it on the ground before and I cut my hands when I was desperately looking for I don’t even know what. I think two people stopped by me sitting and sobbing on the ground having extreme breakdown and my bf yelling at me… in the end he left. Im sucker in orientation and it took me some time till I stood up on my feet… and then the old dickhead from restaurant came out, started riding around me with his car, telling me to get in, multiple times I said no and then he crossed my way and again said “get in we are gonna find him” I didn’t want to get in I turned myself and he get out of his car, forced me to sit and call my bf who didn’t cared where Im sitting and he didn’t want to tell me where he is. It ended up with the old dickhead taking my phone, saying that Im not allowed to pick up my bfs calls and he gonna ride me home. I wish I would shit my pants but I didn’t… I wasn’t scared. I didn’t care… not at all. I was only hearing my phone ringing and I knew I wanna pick up and I couldn’t… i told him where I need to go, I said a slightly different address (like that would help me right) ofc he stopped my the highway resting place, started talking to me about my bf, that i don’t deserve him and than totally flipped the topic to asking what we do together, started jerking off… again I couldn’t fucking move myself even a bit. He moved to myself, trying to kiss me but I didn’t move w my face even a bit. Disgusting too spicy smell was going from him as he was trying to get to my panties… i still couldn’t move, scream …not even talk… eventually I got “home” He insisted to go with me n I didn’t said anything, i just ringed on the stranger’s house bell and hoped someone will open…

[cyborgqueenkelly]

A tiny bit of hope...

I've had a BAD year, healthwise. I live with a condition called Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy (RSD) - also known as Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS). I prefer the RSD label, as anytime you have something labeled as a "syndrome", people can be really insensitive about it. Yes, it's really there and it's not "all in my head". My nerves and my brain just don't know how to communicate with each other. I went through extensive and invasive testing and can actually pinpoint the cause to a particular incident.

If you've never heard of this condition, I'll try to sum it up as succinctly as possible. You've probably heard of the rare condition where someone can't feel pain, right? This is kinda the opposite of that. For a long time, I couldn't wear socks, could only wear backless shoes, and often couldn't even have a sheet on my leg. Often when I'd shower, the water would feel like razor blades when it hit my right leg. My case is actually incredibly mild compared to many others. I've spoken with a surprising number of people who regularly pass out from shock due to the amount of pain they experience. Fortunately I have a DRG stimulator (I'm a real life cyborg!) that has worked wonders for me and has kept things from getting too out of control since I had it implanted.

Over the past year or two I've had some really concerning symptoms not related to my leg. Nonstop coughing fits to the point that I was convinced I had broken my ribs because I hurt myself so bad from coughing. Constantly choking and struggling to breathe. I underwent testing and after ruling out most other conditions, I was told that it seemed that my RSD had spread to my esophagus. This was terrible news for me, as there's not much I can do about that, and I had already started making an exit plan due to the fact that I absolutely cannot live with this. I'm not weak. This is just one of many serious health struggles I've been dealing with. It is also the most unbearable, and it's made my quality of life terrible. I've held on as long as I have because I'm unfortunately a die hard optimist.

This week I received a tiny bit of hope.

A few days ago things got really bad and I ended up in the hospital. They did some in depth testing and it turns out I have asthma! I have to go back to my doctor bc he's the only one who can interpret the results enough to say how severe it is, but if it's bad enough, it might be the culprit for most of my issues! that's huge because its treatable! My rsd isn't as treatable. I still have it and it's still in my esophagus, but it's also highly reactive to other issues. so if my asthma is controlled, my rsd symptoms might be too!

This news isn't as hopeful as it should be, however, because I live in a country where you're only allowed treatment if you can afford it. And I can't. I live on disability ($350 a week BEFORE taxes), my insurance is crap, and I can't even afford my other living expenses. My meds and doctors appointments are now covered til at least the end of October, possibly the end of December. But after that, I'm out of luck. I have no way of paying for treatment starting in January of 2022. I have been trying so hard to get my Etsy store to be profitable so I can pay for treatment, but it's seems damn near impossible, especially when I don't have money for ads, etc.

If you have the means and would like to support my shop, I would be forever grateful. I am happy to do custom design requests if you don't see what you're looking for. (TWDFamily / Caryl/ Carol fans - I already have SEVERAL premade designs not listed in my shop. Feel free to inquire!) Additionally, you can also purchase gift credit for my shop. Of course I'm always grateful for CashApp donations ($kellyguist), but even typing that makes me feel uncomfortable, so I'll probably try to talk you into letting me do you a favor in return somehow.

If you don't have the means to support my shop financially, there are still REALLY effective ways you can help:

- Share my shop link (etsy.com/shop/spanglecustomapparel)

- Favorite some of my items. This actually helps my listings rank better.

- Leave a review if you've already made a purchase but haven't done so.

Thanks to everyone who has supported me so far, and thanks to those of you who've made it to the end of this. You're the best.

[tomdutch]

Why do you want to stop posting stories?

let me just be clear: i am only thinking abt it lmao i haven’t made any concrete plans yet, and even those can change whenever bc i am incredibly indecisive! honestly, it’s more than a reason.

for one thing, i’ve noticed recently that i hold off writing certain tropes or ideas bc i feel like no one will read them. i used to add smut to fics not always bc i wanted to, but bc it’s clearly obvious when pwp fics under 5k words get thousands of notes while anything else is left to dry that there’s only one thing the majority of readers want. and that’s no shade, it’s happened to me, too—one of my fics with the highest notes is a pwp oneshot, 3k words. my favourite thing to write, the works that bring me the most joy, are plot-heavy and long, but i gather from almost 2 years of posting on here that it’s not one readers like. i don’t want random people on the internet’s likes and dislikes to control what i want to write, what i want to spend my time creating.

there’s also the issue of feedback. i’m lucky enough to have made many wonderful friends and mutuals on here, 99% of whom are writers, and they pretty much constitute 99% of the feedback i get, too. there’s only so many times writers will beg silent readers to actually appreciate and support the creators whose content they have no problem consuming for free, yet refuse to acknowledge in any meaningful way. a like is not feedback. this goes for all content, but especially writing, which literally takes weeks of work.

other than that, i don’t have to go on abt how unpleasant the fandom’s been lately. while that’s certainly coming to an end soon, it doesn’t mean it’s any more fun being harassed and told to kill myself over this shit. i hope it’s not necessary to explain why someone telling me to die would make me not wanna post the fics i pour hours of work into, in the environment that’s allowed these freaks to harass me.

so, yeah lmao. i’ve been contemplating sticking to posting gifs, but taking my writing off tumblr. i won’t stop writing altogether, it’s still my favourite hobby and i still love tom, i have so many ideas i want to write. the thing is, i want to write for me again. i don’t want to keep getting disappointed when the only time i get recognition is when i post smut or for regular feedback to only be from my friends and mutuals. y’all cannot keep treating fic writers like this then wonder why we all dip and the tags go dry. again, i haven’t made any decisions yet, i’m just thinking abt it. i could very well just stay on here, but post less, bc it’s really discouraging when you work hard on smth that means a lot to you then it flops when you post it. it makes me feel like the fic i love and thought was great is really not, and i’m sure other writers can relate.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXXVII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Book 6 was beyond complicated to write due to some artistic choices I made lmao but again I do hope you guys like it even if I don’t feel it was perfect bc I enjoyed how most of it turned out -Danny

Words: 4,005

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘The Black and White’ -by The Band CAMINO.

Chapter Thirty-Five: A Prophecy.

Harry walked back to his chair and sat down heavily.

"Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well — not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years. I considered it almost a miracle when Emily agreed to move in next door so she could keep an eye on you..."

Even though Lord Voldemort perished that night in Godric's Hollow, his followers continue to hunt down answers for months, neither Harry nor Mel would've been safe in the wizarding world.

"You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated — to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died —and your father too, Mel— to save you. They gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood, Harry. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."

"She doesn't love me. She doesn't give a damn —"

"But she took you. She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you. And as for you, Mel, you were just a baby, therefore Voldemort's followers couldn't tell if you were as skilled as your dad. It was only until last year when Voldemort realized you were hiding great power."

"I still don't —"

"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, Harry, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years."

"My mother isn't a Dumbledore," Mel frowned. "If that's what kept Harry safe, living with his aunt, then why did I only meet you after I turned eleven?"

"You were a direct descendant from my brother and not me, you weren't in danger as much as Harry. Once I found out about your outbursts I talked to him, I knew you'd need his protection... I'm afraid his guilt stopped him. I've been taking his place, having you come into my office for a weekly lesson as a way to make sure you would be both, protected, while also learning to defend yourself."

Harry came into a new realization.

"You sent that Howler. You told my aunt to remember — it was your voice —"

"I thought that she might need reminding of the pact she had sealed by taking you. I suspected the dementor attack might have awoken her to the dangers of having you as a surrogate son." 

"It did. Well — my uncle more than her. He wanted to chuck me out, but after the Howler came she — she said I had to stay. But what's this got to do with..."

"Five years ago, then, you arrived at Hogwarts, neither as happy nor as well-nourished as I would have liked, perhaps, yet alive and healthy. You were not a pampered little prince, but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well."

The memory of that small boy came to her. He didn't look much different from the Harry sitting beside her, except perhaps, for the way his gaze had darkened. 

He'd always known Harry and Mel would eventually be hunted, and he'd made sure they'd be ready. Dumbledore had a plan from the moment they set a foot in the castle. She wondered exactly how much of everything happened accidentally, and how much had been planned.

"I don't understand what you're saying." 

"Don't you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby? Ought I to have told you then? You do not see the flaw in the plan yet? No... perhaps not. Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age, just like I refused to tell Mel about the rumours surrounding our family."

'The knowledge would be too much at such a young age'. Now, after four years, Mel felt weaker than when she was eleven. Somehow thinner, and far more fragile.

"Do you see? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid."

"I don't —"

"I cared about you too much. I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act."

Mel visibly deflated, a new wave of hurt crashing against her heart.

"So it's true, then?" She asked. "Caring only makes us weak?" 

"My dear, I defy anyone who has watched you as I have —and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined — not to want to save you more pain than you had already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that I would have such a pair of young souls on my hands..."

Mel had held something similar whenever she would reach out to kiss Harry, and nothing else in the world mattered when they were alone together... but after the third task, they were always so alone.

"...You came out of the maze last year, having watched Cedric Diggory die, having escaped death so narrowly yourself... you, Mel, gave away part of your own life, selflessly risking your own well-being just for the frail chance to see Harry again, and I did not tell you, because to tell you after having almost lost each other in such a way would've been beyond cruel, though I knew, now Voldemort had returned, I must do it soon. 

And now, tonight, I know you have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only defence is this: I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school, and I could not bring myself to add another — the greatest one of all."

"...I still don't understand," Harry responded, though now his voice was a bit more quiet and fearful.

Dumbledore admitted what they already knew: Voldemort tried to kill him because of the prophecy, and he'd tried to stop it before it could be fulfilled. Now, years after and once again in a proper body, Voldemort set his mind on hearing the whole thing, looking for a way to end it.

The sun was fully out now, and as he finished, Mel felt the first glimmer of hope peering through.

"Mel broke the prophecy," Harry said quietly. "She crushed it against the ground..."

She closed her injured hand tightly without caring about the sharp pain that shot up to her elbow. 

"I knew we could get rid of it."

"How?" Harry frowned. "How could you know?"

"Because that orb was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries. But the prophecy was made to somebody, and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly," Dumbledore explained, looking at her with a strange glint in his eyes.

"Who heard it?" asked Harry, though he already knew the answer.

"I did. On a cold, wet night sixteen years ago, in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head Inn. I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all. The applicant, however, was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer, and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself. I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave."

As Dumbledore stood up to retrieve something from a cabinet, Mel continued her story.

"That was the reason why my uncle knew what Voldemort was looking for," She swallowed harshly. "As soon as that thing broke I recognized the figure. How could I not? We've been seeing her for three years..."

Dumbledore came back holding the Pensieve, he put the tip of his wan on one temple and pulled, Mel stood up abruptly. 

"Maybe I shouldn't be here to hear it."

"You've earned your place in this conversation," Dumbledore replied. "Your life is linked to Harry's, is only fair for you to hear it too... that way you'll be able to make an informed decision."

"Only if he agrees." 

She was used to Harry keeping her at a proper distance from his doings, nevertheless, Harry grabbed her wrist.

"Sit down... please."

Before she could reply a figure rose from the Pensieve, there stood a small version of Sibyll Trelawney with a voice Mel had only imagined thanks to Harry's tales from two years ago:

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES... BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES... AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT... AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES..."

Professor Trelawney vanished slowly.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said after a moment. "It... did that mean... What did that mean?" 

"It meant... that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times."

"It means — me?"

Dumbledore eyed both teenagers carefully before speaking.

"The odd thing is, Harry, that it may not have meant you at all. Sibyll's prophecy could have applied to three babies, one of them being Mel."

"What?" 

"I thought it was meant to be Matthew's baby," He sighed, "an Auror and a Dumbledore... but alas, you were born at the start of the month — and you were a girl. There were still two more babies in line. Both born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."

"But then... but then, why was it my name on the prophecy and not Neville's?"

"The official record was relabeled after Voldemort's attack on you as a child. It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the one to whom Sibyll was referring."

"Then — it might not be me?"

"I am afraid that there is no doubt that it is you." 

"But you said — Neville was born at the end of July too — and his mum and dad —"

"You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort... Voldemort himself would 'mark him as his equal.' And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse."

"But he might have chosen wrong! He might have marked the wrong person!"

"He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him. And notice this, Harry. He chose, not the pureblood (which, according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing), but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far — something that neither your parents, nor Neville's parents, ever achieved."

In her mind, an alternate life started to take form: Mel as the orphan, Harry's parents alive and well, it was her the one facing death every time... 

Then poor scarred Neville, while Mel and Harry lived surrounded by their families, perhaps even together. The fact that the only reason why Harry was the chosen one was a matter of gender and dates... 

"Why did he do it, then? Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then — or even Mel... She's a Dumbledore — She's the strongest!"

"That might, indeed, have been the more practical course, except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog's Head Inn, which Sibyll chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele than the Three Broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night, it is a place where it is never safe to assume you are not being overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sibyll Trelawney, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My — our — one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building."

"So he only heard..?"

"He heard only the first part, the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would be to risk transferring power to you — again marking you as his equal. So Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that it might be wise to wait or to learn more. And once Mel was born at the start of July as a girl, and you a boy, this only narrowed it down to his apparent advantage. He did not know that you would have 'power the Dark Lord knows not' —"

"But I don't! I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I couldn't fight the way he did tonight, I can't possess people or — or kill them —"

"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore replied carefully, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. 

That power is what has aided Mel to know if you're in danger and allowed her to help, that power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you. So you see, Mel," He added, "caring it's never useless."

"The end of the prophecy... it was something about... 'neither can live...' "

"'... while the other survives,' " Dumbledore concluded.

"So... so does that mean that... that one of us has got to kill the other one... in the end?"

"Yes."

They stayed silent for the longest time, Mel found her voice at the same time as her courage.

"Okay," She spoke. "We just have to make sure you're the one that lives."

Dumbledore's face hinted at a smile, but it did not form fully. Harry stared at her like the thought of surviving was next to impossible.

"I feel I owe you two other explanations," said Dumbledore carefully. "You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as prefects? I must confess that I rather thought both of you had enough responsibility to be going on with..."

Mel let out a dry chuckle, Harry just sighed. 

"The second and final... is about the decision you ought to take."

"What decision?"

"Your lifeline," He started, "I've been reading about it since the third task... It's called Unio Azoth — A universal cure for any kind of injury, you heal with life itself, and it's always effective. However, not many people dare use it because it demands great sacrifice from both sides of the connection. It's created through highly complex magic, or it can happen, as it was your case, after multiple shared near-death experiences," He paused. "It can also be removed."

There was a split second in which the students didn't know how to react. 

"You're saying," Mel started. "We've been hurting each other for a whole year — and you hid this from us?"

"You were on bad terms after the tournament, the removal can only happen if both sides consent, and you were holding onto it tightly, Mel."

"Is it dark magic?" Harry asked abruptly. "Our connection?"

Dumbledore took another long look at him.

"I believe that what you're trying to ask is if it's damaging for any of you," He replied. "Which is something that depends on the circumstances. There have been moments your connection has improved your lives, but it's also damaged you physically to a great extent. You're asking a question only you can answer, Harry."

"This could've fixed everything between us," Mel felt her anger increasing. "And you just let us argue instead? Why?"

"It was your impulsive actions that kept me from speaking, I couldn't risk one of you trying to cut it without the other knowing, it would've resulted in tragedy."

"We would've acted differently if only we’d known! The reason why we fought was because of how guilty Harry felt about putting me through extra pain — We could've just cut the damn thing — You thought I would've just decided to abandon him?"

"Isn't that what you were attempting this year?" Dumbledore asked pointedly.

"Harry and I couldn't stop fighting, I was tired — I had to keep my distance," Mel stood up. "He spent a whole year drowning in guilt thinking we couldn't change things —"

"When I found out it could be removed," Dumbledore's voice came out just as firm as hers. "You were already far too traumatized. Losing this would've felt like losing a limb. You weren't ready to make a choice then, but I can't keep you in the dark any longer, you have the whole picture now, so you can make an informed decision, but I must ask you to think —"

"I don't need to think it over," Mel said, but Harry spoke at the same time.

"I want to keep it."

"What?" She looked at him in disbelief.

Harry stared at her. 

"It's thanks to this that I knew you were having panic attacks, you've saved my life many times now, I owe you — and it doesn't have to hurt, you can control it, I just need to learn how to do it too!"

"You've been nagging me about how much of a burden this was and suddenly you cling to it as if it were a blessing?" She narrowed her eyes.

"It's just..." His jaw tensed. "It works both ways — if I give it up and Voldemort takes you... I can't leave you to deal with it alone, you'd do the same for me. You've already done it."

Mel shook her head, speechless.

"The decision is yours to make..." Dumbledore concluded. "You have until next term to tell me, and then we'll do whatever you please."

They were walking side by side without speaking. She did not wish to fight, and she felt like it would happen if they were to bring up... well, everything. 

"I'm sorry," He muttered. 

"I don't want to hear it. I'm to blame as much as you are. I ignored you — Dumbledore's right, knowing would've tricked us into thinking we could deal with it on our own, it would've killed us... I've been selfish enough this year to know I would've felt tempted to try and cut it on my own. I won't admit it in front of him, though..."

"You weren't —"

"I don't want to have this conversation," She stopped walking. "Everyone thinks I'm like my father or my uncle... and I'm not. When I was with you I was just Mel... whoever that's supposed to be. When we fought I got lost — you said awful things to me, but you were the only one who wasn't treating me like some overpowered freak..."

"I can't promise we won't fight in the future, but there are worse things than disagreeing and the thought of dying without telling you that I..." He came to a halt, voice breaking.

They wanted to talk about so many things, and yet Mel felt like they would never get to say anything at all.

"You know," She said softly. "We've gone through so much already... and it's hard, looking at you and having to pretend I can continue like this."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm feeling so alone, Harry," She forced the words out of her. "I miss you."

She'd almost been murdered that night, treated like a ragdoll, and traumatized until there was no safe place in her world. Still, nothing made her feel quite as vulnerable and tiny as Harry's understanding of her, the way he knew every single corner of her mind as if it were his own.

Harry gazed at her with hurt, he clenched his jaw and shook his head lightly. She was ready to watch him leave when suddenly, he hugged her.

Mel was having trouble breathing against his shoulder but her arms kept him close, one hand made its way up to the back of his head while the other went to the middle of his back. He was a few inches taller than her, but she still felt like they were a perfect fit.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled against her hair, and Mel knew he wasn't just talking about Sirius.

"Me too," She closed her eyes tightly. "We'll find a way through this... together."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle

[theoriginalladya]

Intimacy Prompts #20: a hand written note for rydenko.

from this list

on AO3 here

Thank you so much for this one!  Sorry it took so long - I had an idea, but I got side tracked by other things! :)  Enjoy, my friend!  And thank you for asking about them!

Setting:  Andromeda Galaxy

~~~

It all begins as a joke.

Once his status as Pathfinder is officially recognized, the Initiative administrators cannot act fast enough to guarantee they have Kaidan Alenko on their side.  As the Nexus slowly opens, finally coming out of hibernation, the administrators agree they need to do something.  So, they give him an apartment.  

Scott has his father’s quarters back on the Hyperion, most of the others have their own quarters or stay on the Tempest, but all Kaidan has available to him is a cryo-pod, one that’s no longer useful now that he’s awake.  He doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t even drop a hint.  Tann reminds him of others back in the Milky Way, even acts similarly, but he’s a crafty one, too.  In a move that is supposed to look as if the Initiative cares about their Pathfinders, they assign their lone Pathfinder an apartment.  Whether or not they actually do care about him and the role is beside the point.  

Kaidan, who detests being used as a political pawn but recognizes he can do nothing about it, hates it on sight.  

Okay, so maybe hate is too strong of a word. It isn’t the orchard back in the BC Interior, that’s for damned sure, and it’s a far cry from shared barracks during his Alliance years.  He has a room on the Tempest, so it he has some choice about where he can stay. But this… this tiny cubicle that they are calling an apartment?  Four walls, open spacing, barely any room to turn around without bumping into something? There is absolutely nothing homey about it.  Home, is something he’s still searching for.

That lasts about three weeks, until the day Scott drops by when Kaidan isn’t there and instead of messaging him to meet up elsewhere, leaves a handwritten note slipped beneath his door.  Kaidan almost misses it when he gets back after his meeting with Tann, Addison, and Kesh.  Just a small slip of paper – where had Scott found actual paper? – written in black ink.  A hint of white on an otherwise light-colored floor which is barely discernable.  Something about it catches the corner of his eye, though.  

K – Stopped by to see you.  Catch you later.  Scott

Kaidan reads it twice, just in case he’s having hallucinations thanks to the burgeoning migraine before setting it on the corner of his desk, thinking to send a reply via omni-tool.  But the meetings with Tann and the others are taking their toll, and even with SAM’s assistance, the pain is such he forgets until the next morning, at which point he decides to just head on over to the Hyperion instead. 

Of course, Scott isn’t there.

Scott – Was in the area and thought I’d save you a trip.  Better luck next time, right? Catch you on the Tempest.  K

The Tempest is scheduled out the next morning and, as typically happens aboard the ship with last minute things to do and distractions of all kinds, neither he nor Scott thinks to mention the messages to the other; almost an ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ sort of thing.  End of story.

Except, it isn’t.

The weeks pass, more notes appear at the apartment and on the Tempest or Hyperion.  Small ones. Silly ones.  Eventually, Scott starts leaving small sketches of different people on them – quick things, some cute, some ridiculous, but always they leave Kaidan smiling.  

A caricature of Tann speaking with Addison and Kesh mimicking him behind his back even as Tann’s head is blown up twice the size of the others.

A small cartoon of Suvi in the galley, laser focused as she points to different Heleus rocks and explains their different tastes to a very confused looking Drack while Lexi stands in the doorway scolding her.  

A stick figure sketch of Kallo and the several of the Tempest at various stages of the ship’s development.

Kaidan cannot hide his amusement at a more realistic looking sketch of Cora and Liam as they lean against one another in the back seat of the Nomad, fast asleep.  He remembers the incident clearly, from their last visit to Elaaden.  Even as he stares at the sketch, he swears he can hear their soft snores echoing in his ears as he tacks it to the wall over his desk next to the others.

Not to be outdone, Kaidan starts leaving quotes in his messages to Scott; from books, movies, and other inspirational sources he’s come across.  He’s been collecting them for years, long before he ever left for BAaT.  Most are saved on his omni-tool, but he has two small, leatherbound journals filled with the most meaningful ones he’s come across. They are about the only thing he was able to bring with him from home when he joined the Initiative.  

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. (1)

The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees opportunity in every difficulty. (2)

We may encounter many defeats, but we must not be defeated. (3)

Fear profits a man nothing.(4)

With each successive note between them, Kaidan learns a little bit more about Scott.  But the whole situation changes drastically after their adventures on the archon’s ship.  On the way back to the Nexus and after Lexi has cleared him, Kaidan does something he hasn’t done in centuries, if ever…

 ~~~~

 The buzzer to his Nexus apartment sounds, but Kaidan doesn’t bother to answer it.  It’s Scott, and the man has his own key.  The buzzer, he supposes, is Scott’s polite way to warn him that he’s arrived. The fact that Scott uses does it now of all times tells Kaidan something more; Scott is pissed.  

Well, I probably deserve it after what happened.  

He’s tempted to not answer, to see if Scott leaves a note, but decides not to risk it.  Opening the door, he steps to the side to allow the younger man in.  Scott remains silent, though his body language screams in a way that Kaidan easily recognizes.  Taut, tense, his lips tightened in a thin line, the way he won’t look directly at Kaidan… It’s one side of a conversation Kaidan’s been on many times, albeit hundreds of years before and in a different galaxy.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” Scott demands, blue eyes sharp and snapping with anger.  “Any idea what could have happened back on the archon’s ship if SAM hadn’t been able to resuscitate you?  You-you could have died back there!”

Opting to let the younger man get it out in one fell swoop, Kaidan bides his time.  Well, except for one point of clarification.  “I did die.”

Scott growls in the back of his throat.  An honest to goodness growl.  Kaidan can’t help the small smirk that twists at his lips as a result.  When Scott steps forward, invading his personal space, Kaidan does something he usually doesn’t do; he goads him.  “What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Not helping the situation!”

Kaidan isn’t certain if he should be worried that SAM is, so far, remaining silent in his head.  “I needed to get us out of there,” he argues instead.  “How else was I going to –?”

“You?  Why did it have to be you?  Why is it always you?”  Scott tosses his hands in the air and turns away, frustration building until his biotic corona flickers around him.  Still grumbling to himself, he turns back, glaring at Kaidan.  “What the hell am I going to do if I lose you like that?”

Kaidan sucks in a breath, recognizing the pain. Sure, things between them have improved since their arrival in Andromeda – no place to go but up, right? – but this…? This is a reinforcement of what he’s hoped for ever since accepting Alec Ryder’s offer.  

Or am I reading too much into this?

On their private channel, SAM replies, “You are not, Kaidan.”

Scott still prowls around the room as Kaidan asks, “Can you come over here for a minute?”

“Why?  So you can die on me a third time?”

Petulance is not a good look for Scott, and Kaidan has to bite back a laugh; as much as he wants to set it free, it would do more harm than good just now.  “I want to show you something.”

Scott grumbles some more, even as Kaidan heads on over, but eventually he follows.  When he arrives, Kaidan hands him the letter.  “Read this.”

The blue-eyed glare returns, heavy with suspicion.  “What is it?”

“Just read.  Please.”

Scott waits another moment, two, then drops his gaze and starts reading.  For several minutes, Kaidan waits patiently, watching.  The letter isn’t long, but Scott is taking his time reading it, but Kaidan knows when Scott reaches the end because the younger man’s spine stiffens, his shoulders roll back, and his head snaps up as he darts a quick look up at Kaidan. “Today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the Earth.(5)”  

When Scott says nothing else, Kaidan prods, “So, what do you think?”

Scott is quiet for a minute.  It’s difficult to read his reaction because he keeps his back to Kaidan the entire time, slightly hunched in the shoulders, utterly quiet. “Do you mean it?” he asks, voice soft as if having trouble pushing it out.

“I always try to say what I mean, Scott.”

The younger man turns around, his face a surprisingly neutral mask.  Considering how difficult that has been for him in the past, Kaidan is impressed.  “So, you’re saying you consider yourself the luckiest man on Earth or, in this case I guess, the Nexus, because you survived?”

Ah, so that’s the problem.  Reaching over, Kaidan settles a hand on Scott’s cheek. Scott leans into it, then apparently thinks better of it or at the very least realizes what he’s doing and pulls back. But that’s okay.  Kaidan now has a far better sense of what he is working with. Running his thumb along the corner of Scott’s lips, he says quietly, “I am the luckiest man in Andromeda because you are here with me.”

Tension immediately flows out of Scott and he visibly sags a bit.  “And you really mean that?  Because look, I get that my Dad talked you into all of this without checking with me first, and –”

Kaidan slides his thumb over the top of Scott’s lips to silence him.  “I really mean that.  This has nothing to do with your dad, but everything to do with you….”  

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 (1) The Godfather, part II

(2) Winston Churchill

(3) Maya Angelou

(4) 13th Warrior

(5) The Pride of the Yankees

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Κατακηλέω (νοσταλγία deleted scene)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Κατακηλέω: to charm, cast a spell over (Ancient Greek)

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Narses/Reader but you know how that is

Summary: This is a deleted scene that happens between chapter 16 and 17, it centers mainly around Narses.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: The usual, plus a graphic depiction of burning alive (or my best attempt at writing it anyways)

A/N: Yeah idk what to say here lol, I put this together mainly bc @xbellaxcarolinax​ made a point of there being little Narses on the story, and bc she was interested in a chapter more centered around him. I write a lot of rambles that I don’t post cause I don’t think people wanna read ‘em, but here it is one of em, in deleted-scene form lol. Hope you like it, and thank you! <3

Also yes I have Michiel Huisman as Daario in my head as a faceclaim for Narses, idk what to tell ya, I suck at describing characters so of course you had no way of knowing that, and I’m sorry.

Taglist: (I’m sorry if you don’t wanna be tagged in these kind of chapters btw, just lemme know and I’ll keep you on the main story ones only, or just the main story and Ivar PoV ones, whatever works for you) @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson​

“It scares you, doesn’t it?” Freydis starts suddenly one night, and you lift your eyes to her but don’t say anything. So, she continues, “The reminder of what you could do.”

“If you mean-…”

“You know what I mean. You could lie, and I keep wondering why you don’t.”

“Lying is what you would do, is it not?” You snap, head tilted to the side.

The blonde’s smile turns smug, as if she just made you give away a card. Instead of saying anything regarding that, she shrugs,

“You have traveled a lot, lived a lot,” She states, moving carefully and taking a seat next to you, seemingly choosing to ignore your eyes following her. “Will you tell me you are unaware of what men are able and willing to do for a woman’s love?

She stops whatever it is she was going to say next when an elderly woman enters the apothecary, her blue eyes following the woman’s moves. You are reminded of that night when she shared her thoughts by a window and was interrupted -eyes and ears follow the witch-, and realize why she holds her tongue.

Instead of waiting for the other woman to leave, she stands up and asks you to follow with but a gesture of her head.

Certain steps take you both to the same elevated patch of cold and foreign grass that saw you lay on your knees and pray to whatever Gods heard you to give you an answer.

And so, Freydis continues on,

“Look at all Ivar did to get you to be at his side. Imagine what he would do with the promise you could love him,” Manic blue eyes meet yours as Freydis stops you with a hand on your arm. You pointedly look down at it and back up at her face, feeling a tightness in your chest, dread mixed with disdain. “Imagine what he would do if you pretended to love him and threatened to take it away.”

There’s only one answer you can give her.

“Get your hand off me.”

If you were your mother, you’d have a sword in your hands and a snarl on your lips. But you never wanted to fight like a man, and so you only let the cold of this land seep into your voice and harden your expression, your voice.

She remains frozen for a few moments too long, and you once again pointedly look at her hand and back into her eyes.

“I don’t like repeating myself,” You state, and only then does she comply, her eyes searching yours. You return your arm to be comfortable covered by the warm cloak, and turn to keep walking. “I do not want to hear another word of this, you hear me? Not another damned word.”

“Does that mean you’ve given up? You’ll let him keep you here?”

“I said not another word.”

Freydis swallows whatever her words are to be next, and nods her head, accepting your order as if she thinks you gave her a choice.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Freydis speaks again.

“You choose to protect him now, is that it?”

Her dainty and delicate voice loses none of the edge and the certainty, even as her eyes betray something more human.

“You are a smart woman,” You concede instead of answering her questions, and tilt your head to the side, “But a smarter one would know when to hold her tongue.”

“You don’t hold yours.”

“I never claimed to be smart,” You reply easily, before bowing your head in goodbye. “Goodnight, Freydis.”

She knows it is a dismissal, and a rude one at that, but she only returns the gesture. You could swear a strange sort of pride shines in the girl’s dark blue eyes as she takes her leave.

____

And now you sit alone overlooking that same cliff and you cannot get her words out of your head. You wish you could hate her, berate her for her games and call her names, say she is nothing but a liar, a whore.

But it is not so simple, is it? You seduced a man into giving you his army, did it so well Freydis trusted you to seek Freyja’s favor and do the same with the King, knew you had what it took with only but a look at you.

You promised your love to Narses only for the faint possibility that he could drive the Byzantine Christians off your lands, that he could bend his army and his strength to your will and give you the kingdom you deserved.

And you did to Narses everything that Freydis would have done to Ivar. You kissed, lied, and promised yourself; for the sake of a game.

Because when all you are told you can be is a warm pair of legs to wrap around a man, a pretty little jewel for him to keep and parade around, a quiet and beautiful maiden to stand beneath who the Gods deem you belong to; you learn to play games, all women do.

You wrap your legs tight enough he begs for mercy trying to escape your spell, you show them how even jewels draw blood if squeezed too tight in a fool’s hand, you let beauty carry you near him and your voice be a whisper as it reaches his ear. You play games.

But, as you sit on the cold grass overlooking Kattegat’s horizon, the sea and the sky meeting far away and reminding you strikingly of dusks and dawns spent on that temple overlooking the ocean and awaiting for those ships; you think about how no women speak of what happens when the game ends.

Because it always ends. It is a world of change, after all, a world of wheels turning and of days and nights and of seasons unending. It goes on and on, and the world changes, the games end.

Maybe you don’t hear women speak of what happens when it ends because few survive it. Those that do, maybe, just like you, refuse to speak of it, refuse to give voice to the pain and the shame that comes after playing with a heart not your own.

Refuse to admit the regret.

“You’ll do it?” He asks, eyes shining, “You’ll be my wife?”

“I would love to marry you,” You lie, you lie, you lie; and it burns your heart, “But I don’t want to bring our children into a world that will push them into the dirt for the Gods they follow, Narses.”

And just like that, promises, vows, oaths, fall from his perfect lips like he cannot help it. And you believe him, because if you hold your breath and dive past the smoke into the memories of your past, you can recognize that the way Narses looks at you now is the same way your father used to look at your mother.

You remember Sieghild’s teachings about Freyja, about her ways of persuasion and seduction, and wonder if, even if you are foreign to her, the Goddess looks over you. You wonder if she would smile or frown at your games.

You fall down on the grass, keeping your hold on Narses’ hands to tug him down with you. Narses falls with a laugh, legs and arms holding him up above you, dark green eyes shining as they look down upon yours.

It is remarkably easy, to surrender to his kiss. You close your eyes, letting your fingers go up into his hair, and allowing your lips and tongue to dance with his.

When his impatient lips move down to your jaw, your neck; you let him, craning your head back so he can have more access to your skin. If you clear your mind, you can almost feel nothing but pleasure.

When you tug particularly hard on his hair as Narses bites at your collarbone, you feel a breathed laugh leave his nose.

Lifting himself up in strong arms on each side of your head, Narses looks down upon you. His words should not hurt like they do by now, as you are so familiar with them you know what they will be before he even opens his mouth.

He steals another quick kiss, and whispers, “I love you.”

As a lover, as his future wife.

You smile through the pain, and answer, “I love you.”

As a friend, as the protector of your people.

As an instrument of war.

You are reminded of the safety of Narses’ embrace, however suffocating; and you can almost taste your name on his lips, bloodied as they were the last time you saw him alive.

“You are in the Elysian Fields, I know,” You start telling the wind, hoping it can carry your words to him, “Or maybe these Varangians’ Gods are fighting with ours to take you with them to Valhalla. Either way, I hope you can hear my voice one last time, my friend.”

You laugh brokenly to yourself, lowering your gaze to the grass under your body, caressing the dark tresses of nature.

“I know I don’t make much sense, I-I never did to you. Ramblings about Fate and empires fallen and tales of Gods and heroes; things that you had no interest in hearing. And yet you still looked upon me like something…something out of a dream, Narses,” You tell him, pain clawing at your heart, reopening wounds you thought you closed long ago. You smile sadly still, and reminisce, “You used to tell me I was your dream, and…I wish I could tell you that you were mine, I truly do. But I can’t.”

And regret fills you, the useless and heartbreaking gift of hindsight showing you that the path you took led only to pain and war. Narses was sent by your choices, by your games, by your mistakes, to die; and you…you were sent here. To what?

You dare think not even the Gods have an answer to your present, or future. But you do have answers to your past, and if someone deserves to hear them, it is Narses, wherever he may be.

“Returning to Eleusis choked me with the smoke of all the fires lit before I left and during my time away. I…blinded myself with ambition and I thought the only way I could fight was through you,” You explain, honestly, brokenly, the only way you know how to, “I knew that if I had the heart of Thebes’ Strategus, I could get what I wanted. I just had to have enough guile, enough lies, enough poison; to trick you into giving me your heart.

You offer the wind a hollow chuckle, bitter and angry and oh so filled with regret you can feel your heart poisoned with it.

“And I did exactly that. Maybe Aphrodite and Peitho blessed my lies, maybe Sieghild was right and Freyja watched over me,” You look over Kattegat’s horizon, facing the truths of your past when you don’t know what you want out of your future, “Either way, I used you, I hated myself but I still did it and…I got what I wanted.

As the agony of the flames crawls over your legs, scorching your skin with the inferno, blinding your eyes with the smoke, flogging your throat with your screams; you turn your gaze to the sky, blackened and barren as it is, and plead the Gods you have fought and bled for to grant you a moment of mercy, a painless death.

And flesh being charred smells awful, making your poisoned lungs heave for unattainable retrieve. You hold a moment of clarity in your mind to beg for Sieghild’s forgiveness, that you left her in this world alone after she sacrificed so much for you. You hope her Gods let you visit her in Folkvangr.

With one last ragged and angry scream, you let your strength leave you, your agony leave you, your regrets leave you.

When you awaken you find yourself in too much pain to accept this is the Underworld. Before you open your eyes, a moment of panic and dread fills your heart at the thought that the Christians left you alive to torture you, but you hear familiar voices, smell familiar fragrances.

Sieghild’s hand over your forehead, gentle and loving in ways she rarely is, makes a small smile tug at your dried and bleeding lips.

“I know you are awake, open your eyes,” She chastises, gruff even when relief clogs her voice. You do, and her smiling inked face settles your quickly beating heart, makes you forget the pain for a moment. “I love you, you stubborn child.”

You allow yourself a smile, closing your eyes again and focusing on breathing for a few moments, before whispering, “I love you too, minn móðir.”

The shieldmaiden chuckles brokenly, pressing rough lips on the crown of your head. After a few moments of silence, she sighs.

“By the way, you mad woman, you did it.”

“Did what?” You ask raggedly, wincing as you lift your head to accept the cup of water she offers.

“Listen, little one,” She instructs, and when you do, you hear the rustling of armor plates, the heavy steps of soldiers outside your door. The Viking woman shakes her head in almost disbelief, “The Strategos, that boy, he saved you from the flames.”

“Narses?”

“His soldiers came with us, we have nearly a thousand men here.”

“I did so many things wrong, Narses. I lied and manipulated and pretended, and maybe because the Gods are cruel, or maybe because reaping what you sow is an empty promise; I succeeded, and I got what I wanted. I knew I wouldn’t win, not against the Empire, not against the Christians, but…I wanted them to remember me, to remember our names and our Gods and our ways. To remember we don’t die silently.

And even if it hurts, you admit to yourself that you would do it again. You wish you could have loved Narses the way he deserved, you wish you could have been honest, you wish you could have found other ways to fight for your kingdom; but…you understand why you did it, and feeble and useless as it is, you want to forgive yourself for it.

Where there is war there can never be love, right? And you wanted war, you will not lie to yourself and say you truly wanted peace all along.

No, you wanted to see those Christians that came to take your home bleed at your feet, you wanted Attica to be free again, and Laconia, and Macedonia, and Arcadia, and many others. And you would wage war for your freedom for a thousand years if needed.

You would promise Narses your hand again if it came to it. You know you would, because the person you were when Attica was yours…she would have done that and much more for a chance at freedom. Now, you know better. Now, you let yourself be softer. Now, the world is a lot bigger than it seemed back then.

Now, things are different. Maybe you are, maybe the world is, maybe your heart is. Maybe Ivar is.

You smile at the barren horizon that doesn’t seem so foreign and intimidating now, and whisper, “I could do it now, I know. I would end up dead when he knew the truth, that’s for certain, but the victory would be mine, our people’s, by the time Ivar could catch up with my lies. I could, Narses.

“We need Stithulf’s support. We will ally with him, and even if you scream and fight it is what will happen.”

But you are shaking your head before he even finishes speaking.

“As Anassa of Attica I ca-…”

“As the commander of your forces, as the man you’ll marry, I’m telling y-…”

The hostility, the command, in his tone startle you to attention, and you narrow your eyes as you step closer. You don’t reach his shoulder, but the years have taught you there’s few things a man fears more than a woman that refuses to fight like a man but still fights.

“If you try using that to silence me, I fear you will not live long as my husband.” The threat drips from your lips like wine, but Narses doesn’t cave for once, and he drags a hand over his face.

“You always fight me, why do you…why can’t you be…?” His words die in a sigh, and you lift your eyebrows.

“Why can’t I be someone I’m not? Would you love me if I were anything other than me?”

“Sometimes, I wish you were,” He sentences, a hand over his eyes as he grunts out the words. Your heart drops, and so does your guard. He sighs again, and a hand reaches up and cups your cheek, unaware your whole body tightens to a coil the moment he touches you. “Sometimes, I fool myself into thinking I still see the woman you once were in you. The woman that wanted a life surrounded by Eleusis’ warmth, the woman that cared not for war, for vengeance.”

You grit your teeth, and step back, closing your eyes tightly as you croak,

“That woman was never all I was. I wanted Eleusis, I still do, but that doesn’t mean I never wanted revenge, Narses. Those Christia-…”

When you feel he finally drops his hand from your cheek, you open your eyes and watch his hand clench into a fist.

“Why do I have to love a woman like you?” He hisses, turning his back to you and slamming both hands on the weak table in front of him. “I’ve asked the Gods why, you know. Why I have to love a woman arrogant and ambitious and…Hera help me, a woman that is not mine. Never was, never will be.”

“I-…What are you saying?”

“Do you think I’m enough of a fool to think I can make you my wife? If the Fates don’t stop me you will,” A humorless chuckle leaves his lips, “Lord Hades might split open the earth and drag you to the Underworld before I get to call you my wife.”

“Don’t say those things.”

“It is true! I was not Fated to have you, even if the Gods know I was Fated to love you,” He shakes his head, teeth gritted and eyes failing to meet yours, “We both know what made you say yes to me, and it is what is keeping you from saying yes to Stithulf. It was never love.”

Shame chokes you, keeps the next words form leaving your lips. Your lips tremble and your eyes cloud with tears as you look at his tense back, nothing but regrets shining in your eyes.

“Are you-…will you l-leave?”

Will you leave me? Is the question you dare not ask, because you do not have the right to believe he should want to stay at your side, not after everything.

You still don’t want him to leave you alone here.

But the Thebesian takes a deep breath, straightening his back again and turning to you. The same anguished softness you saw so many times in his eyes still shines in them now, and he shakes his head.

His voice when he replies feels like warmth, like safety and nostalgia,

“I will always be at your side. Until Hades summons you home, I’ll be at your side.”

You look into his warm eyes, and with shame still burning your chest, you ask,

“Why? The Gods know I do not deserve it. Why do you stay?”

The answer leaves his lips with the same certainty it always did, with the same hope and the same truth,

“I love you.”

You like to believe you would have loved Narses, you like to believe you would have been content remaining as Eleusis’ Priestess. You like to believe you could have birthed him children for you to teach the way of the Gods and he to give the fame of his family.

Problem is, you fear now, with the taste of this strange freedom still fresh and sweet on your tongue, you don’t think you could have ever lived with the binds of what Narses wanted to make out of you. A priestess, whose ambition is forgotten when he wills it so; a woman, whose eyes will need to lower from his; a wife, to be quietened when he speaks.

And you don’t want that, to be what Narses wanted you to, what Galla wanted you to, what Freydis wants you to, what Ivar wants you to. You want to be you, and you want to fight, and be compassionate and revengeful, and be soft and relentless, without needing to choose one or the other.

You want nights of stupid arguments and infuriating talks, you realize around a broken chuckle, you want foreign languages and even more foreign customs, you want…you want Ivar. In all his vitriol, in all his bloodthirst, in all his awkward gentleness and in all his armored heart, you want him.

Tears of regret and the path not taken fill your eyes, and you find yourself sobbing out a small laugh, “But the person that lied and tricked you, that could do the same to Ivar…she died amongst the flames, left me in her place, I think.

The Priestess is dead.

Taking the small knife Ivar gifted you what seems like a lifetime ago, you hold a lock of your hair in front of you, and cut off the wind-blown and tangled strands, holding a short tress in your hand that weights like a decade of apologies and promises made.

“I’m sorry. For everything I did and everything I didn’t do,” You promise him, closing your eyes and almost seeing his smiling face before you, his eyes shining and his sun-kissed skin weathered around a smile. “In another life, I may have loved you like you deserved.”

You open your palm, and let the strands of grief be carried off by Kattegat’s winds way across the sea.

And in another world, on another land, a dead man takes a breath.

____

So, hope you liked it, hope that last sentence got you wonderin’, and hope you have a nice day/night!

Thank you so much for reading, see you Tuesday with the scheduled update: chapter 18 :)

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Yes to Yuji wrecking Mahito! Just so much yes my boy needs to avenge those wrongfully killed!

See I wanted Geto to be on my shit list (as I'm not normally a bad guy lover) but I swear he wore me down reading the manga. Plus he's just so pretty he makes my brain all static noises 😳 Not to mention that backstory between him and Gojo like YES give me all the drama I need buried drama 🤩

Totally agree on the Mai thing. See I wanted to hate Todo too bc of well him beating on Megumi but the moment him and Yuji were just like "Big Dumb Meat Heads" together I threw that out the window! Those two together are *chefs kiss* Absolutely stupendous I never get tired of them 👌👌👌

Mai on the other hand is just crawling more and more under my skin. Like why you gotta be like that gurl? You wanna go in the crusty corner with Mahito? Cuz you gotta crusty attitude that needs fixing like yesterday 😐

Literary brain tells me it wants more drama/character growth between Megumi and Toji. But my useless overly big heart wants to punch Toji and protect Megumi at all costs bc he just showed up on the screen like the kool aid man and burst right into my heart and I shan't forgive Megumi for that but now I will die for him so ¯\_( ツ)_/¯

But I'm not the only one who lowkey fantasizes about self inserty type day dreams??? Like every day all day I got my thoughts flowing into 500 different lil oneshots I'm too chicken to post anywhere bc I havent written anything in a while and I feel I'm rusty. But your idea! YOUR IDEA WOO BOI- I'm not even a Gojo fanatic (like I adore him but my heart dick thudded elsewhere RIP) but that scene you described of straddling him just to rip his blindfold off in the heat of an arguement that's clearly deadly to either party- Just to see him on the brink of tears fighting back every emotion to slate his composure to cocky/uncaring. Only to have it obviously failing, and the metaphorical reality around you both crumbling along with Gojo's emotional state- Oh God I would read that crap outta something like that. It fills me with the angst and I thrive on it daily *heavy breathing* You should think about posting more of your original content too! Self inserty or not bc that sounds down right brilliant on so many levels

💛anon

Bro I can't help but feel had for Gojo. That shit must have hurted. Like he looked so calm and collected when it all happened but was he really? His best friend potential lover went feral and murdered an entire village AND his family then he tried to kill his first years once and now AGAIN what is happening. Did you see the look on Gojo's face when Yaga told him he went rogue? That was a face of hurt and betrayal he couldn't even begin to understand at the young age of... What was it, 17? 18? He was practically a little itty bitty baby compared to now. I haven't read the prequel yet don't laugh at me but I've heard it hurts so much worse having to face Getou back then AND now. Stupid brain worms, stop fucking around.

I wanted to hate Todo too hut before he even turned good I couldn't. I have a thing for big buff boys who have zero brains and too much brawns I'm looking at you Metal Bat, Captain Ōbi I just wanna adopt/marry them because in all reality they're trying their best. I'm really glad Todo exists and has his big brother delusion because honestly I think that's something Yuji needs, especially in the current arc. Yuji needs as much support as he can get.

PFFFT CRUST CORNER I cannot with you omg they do need to sit on the time out chair for s bit and think about what they've done lmaooo

DID YOU CALL TOJI ZENIN- FUSHIGURO THE FUCKING KOOL AID MAN AHAHAHHHSH oh my god i hate this so fucking much or were you calling Megumi the koolaid man bc really each one is absurd n e wayz I dunno bro I rlly can't wait until Megs wakes up post Shibuya arc and actually has time to process what the fuck happened to him back then. I really want to know if he can connect the dots by himself and realize holy shit that was the source of my daddy issues right there in the flesh and how he reacts to him being a curse and all that. There's so many ways that can go too it's scary to think about.

Low key unrelated but I have a theory that Gojo can see everything from his little cube prison and knows what's going on. Its probably because of the six eyes, or because he's just fucking Gojo, or even because Geto seems kinda sadistic and would do something like that. But I can imagine him watching Megs and Toji fight and it absolutely destroying him. For starters, Gojo killed him .... Right? Wtf is he doing back? What? Second don't commit suicide in front of your kid oh my god Toji what (I'm probably just salty because of a past experience, but also, calm down Toji oh my god) and third I can see it hurting Gojo because in a way it feels like he's been trying to protect Megumi. Its obvious Gojo has this attachment to Megumi, and maybe it's because they've known each other so long, but I don't think Gojo is prepared to deal with the aftermath. Does he have to tell him, if Megs doesn't put the pieces together? Will he have to knock some sense into him to actually tell him? Because he DID try to tell Megs once before and he avoided it like the plague. Its also gotta hurt when you feel like someone's dad and you witness them have a bad interaction with their other dad.

Throw in his daughter being on the brink of death, his other son being emotionally demolished, his second year kids lost in the void and not even his void, his best friend locked him in a box, his other best friend exploded, etc. I think Gojo I pretty distraught even if he doesn't show it

Bro okay my brain is riddled with ideas like this and 90% of them are always angst. Idk where tf they come from half the time but they exist and I hate it. They're always self inserts too.

So I actually read this ask last night, but due to personal reasons I didn't reply to it now, and I actually started experimenting writing out this scenario. I had to stop when I wrote the line "Approximately one year after the first finger was consumed, Itadori Yūji was formally executed. At three minutes to midnight, Sukuna Ryomen was expelled from his body, destroying the vessel along with it. The executioner was none other than the teenager's teacher and mentor Gojo Satoru. When Y/N awoke to this news, they attacked on sight."

Oh god I made myself so sad with that line

And i do really want to post some of my fics, like I did with Nobara Meeting Sukuna For The First Time. However, I only posted that because it was short and simple lmao it was basically just a meme I didn't even run it though grammarly like I do with the headcanons.

I like sticking to the headcanons as of right now because I feel like grammar didn't exist when I make those. I can spell things wrong and leave off punctuation and word then like I'm a third grader just learning English and no one will laugh lmao. Fanfics kinda stress me out because i want them to be perfect. I also have a hard time with fight scenes and transitioning and it's s mess.

I REALLY want to write out my Guardian Angel! Junpei AU because I think it's so cute. Just the idea that this boy is assigned to fight against fate and the higher ups and keep Yuji alive despite him being an idiot and a target is cute to me. Like I just canon him being the plantonic equivalent of in love with this boy and he feels like he rlly owes it to Yuji for trying to save him it's the LEAST he can do. Plus I need the mental imagine if Junpei annoying reader-chan into finding Yuji because "they play a pivotal role in Yuji's future" just for the "pivotal role" to literally be playing therapist and just being there for him and being a medium between Junpei and Yuji because guardian angels aren't allowed to reveal themselves to the person they're guarding but also/// he might risk his wings being stripped just to talk to Yuji one more time////

Okay I'm going to stop now

But yea, maybe if I have time and create little mini works like Nobara Meeting Sukuna For the First Time I'll def post them! I'll work on casually making them longer and soon I'll be confident to posts longer ones. But until then I hope just the headcanons at alright ;-;