#every fandom has legends of such works. 'have you read the one where he shaves the spikes off his cock?' etc

[nostalgia-tblr]

I know it's almost certainly a good thing that there's no "Reader x Alligator Loki" fic out there but at the same time it feels like surely by now someone should have crossed that bridge of horrors into the land of OH GOD NO that fandom frequents despite our collective better judgement?

[scorpionyx9621]

Do you think Jason Todd fandom is kinda toxic? Because it seems like NO MATTER what DC do, there'll always be complains. Forget the bad adaptation like Titans. Even Judd Winick cannot escape the criticism with how he potrayed Robin!Jason. They just never satisfied.

SORRY, IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS. I just moved from Washington D.C. to Seattle, which, for my non-American friends, that's 4442km away. And I DROVE THERE ALL BY MYSELF. And now I'm trying to find new work in a new city and trying to stay mentally healthy and positive. Life is exciting but hard and scary.

*sighs*

As someone who was a fandom elder with V*ltr*n. I've seen some of the worst when it comes to fandom behavior. I'm talking people baking food with shaving razors and trying to give them to the showrunners. I'm talking leaking major plot details and refusing to take it down unless they make their ship canon (I am looking at you, Kl*nce stans) For the most part, DC Comics has had a decades-long reputation of treating their fans like trash and not caring what they think so from what I've seen, we all just grumble and complain in our corners of the internet about how we don't like how X comic portrays Jason Todd.

The challenge with Jason Todd is that he's your clinical anti-hero, the batfamily's Draco in Leather Pants, he's a jerkass woobie, and on top of all of that, he's a Tumblr sexyman. It's a perfect storm for a very fun but frustrating character to be a fan of. It doesn't help that every writer decides to re-invent the wheel every time Jason comes up so his canon lore is confusing at best and inconsistent as a standard.

I guess starting with a general brief on who Jason is and what is uniform about him with every instance he's appeared in comics/media.

Grew up in a poor family in Gotham with a dad who was a petty-mid-level criminal, and a mother who dies of a drug overdose.

Survives on the street on his own by committing petty crimes and potentially even engaging in sexual acts to keep himself alive.

Is cornered by Batman and taken in after Dick Grayson quits/is fired

Becomes the second Robin, but is known for being the harsher, more brutal Robin.

Is killed by Joker after being tortured, but somehow comes back to life and regains senses through the Lazarus Pit

Resolves himself to be better than Batman by basically being Batman but kills people.

Where there has been a lot of conflict in the fandom is the fact that Jason Todd is not a character that is written consistently. DC Comics loves to go with the narrative that Jason was "bad from the start" and was the "bad robin" when, yes, he has trouble controlling his anger, but he also still is just as invested in seeing the best of Gotham City and trying to be a positive change for the world as any other DC Comics hero.

Where I get frustrated with the fandom is its ability to knit-pick every detail of a comic they don't like while completely disregarding everything that makes the comics great and worth it to read. My example being Urban Legends. To which most people had pretty mixed reactions to. I was critical of the comic at first but as it went along I ended up really liking it. I have a feeling DC Comics went to Chip Zdarsky and told him he had 6 issues to bring Jason back into the Bat Family, and honestly he didn't do a bad job. Did it feel rushed? Absolutely. I wish there was more development of Jason and Bruce's characters and their dynamic as a whole. However, where I see a lot of people being angry and upset with Urban Legends is that they feel Zdarsky needlessly wrote Jason as an incompetent fool who needs Bruce to save him.

Whether or not that was the intention of Zdarsky is up to debate. However, and this may be controversial, but I don't think he wrote Jason Todd out of character at all. For as fearsome, intimidating, and awesome as Red Hood is. Jason is a character who is absolutely driven by his emotions. Why do you think he donned the role of Red Hood? As a response to his anger towards The Joker for killing him, and towards Bruce for not taking action against The Joker and for seemingly replacing him so quickly after he died. Jason didn't care about being the murderous Robin Hood or for being the bloody hammer of justice against N*zi's and P*d*ph*les. He only cared originally about making The Joker and Bruce pay. It wasn't until he trained under the best assassins in the world and realized most of them were horrific criminals who trafficked children and were p*dos that Talia began to realize that the teachers that she sent Jason to train under started dying horrific and painful deaths.

The entire story of the Cheer story in Batman Urban Legends was started because it finally forced some consequences upon Jason. Tyler, aka Blue Hood's father was a drug dealer who gave his supply to his wife and kids. And when Tyler's father admitted he gave the drugs to Tyler, it immediately made him fall within the self-imposed philosophical kill-list of Jason Todd. And Jason, well, he proceeds to kill Tyler's father. When this happens, Jason is in shock. Tyler's dad fit the bill to easily and justifiably be killed by Jason. We've never seen Jason having to deal with the consequences of being a murderous vigilante on a micro-level. When Jason realizes what he's done in that he's murdered Tyler's dad, he's shocked. He tells Babs the truth. He does a rational thing because he's in shock. He doesn't know what to do, he never has had to face the consequences of his actions as Red Hood and now the gravity of befriending a child as a vigilante hero who kills people just set in when he killed the father of the same child he was just introduced to.

(Oh here's a little aside because it had to be said, Jason would not have been a good father or a good mentor to Tyler and absolutely should not have been his new Robin. Jason is a man who is in his early 20's (not saying men in their early 20's can't be good fathers at all) who is a brutal serial killer using the guise of a vigilante anti-hero to let him escape most of the law. the complications of having the man who murdered your father adopt you and make you his sidekick are way too numerous for me to explain in a long-winded already heavy Tumblr essay post. There's a reason why we don't advocate for a story where Joe Chill adopted Bruce Wayne or one where Tony Zucco took in Dick Grayson.)

The next biggest argument is that they feel that Jason is giving up his guns as a means to just be invited back into the Bat-Family. To which I will tell anyone who has that argument to go actually read Urban Legends. Already have and still have that argument? Please re-read it. Don't want to? That's okay, I will paste the images from the comic where Jason specifically says that he doesn't want to give up his weapons for Bruce and his real reasoning down below since the comic isn't exactly readily accessible.

Jason gave up the guns because he felt the gravity of what he had done and knows how it'll effect Tyler. Thankfully his mom is alive and in recovery. But Tyler doesn't have a father anymore. And Jason killed Tyler's father. It may have been in accordance to Jason's philosophy, but it was a case where it blurred the lines. Jason Todd isn't a black and white character, just very dark gray. He doesn't kill aimlessly like the Joker. If you are on Jason's list you probably have done something pretty horrific, and also just in general, being in his way or being a threat to him. Mind you, in early days of Red Hood and the Outlaws (Image below) Jason almost killed 10 innocent civilians in a town in Colorado all because they saw him kill a monster. That being said, Jason isn't aimless in his kills.

(Also can we just take a moment to appreciate Kenneth Rocafort's art? DC Comics said we need to rehabilitate Jason Todd's image and Kenneth Rocafort said hold my beer: It's so SO GOOD)

That being said, the key emphasis in the story of Cheer asides from trying to introduce Jason Todd back into the Bat Family and give an actual purpose for him being there, other than him just kind of being there ala Bowser every time he shows up for Go Kart racing, Tennis, Golf, Soccer, and the Olympic games when Mario invites him, is that Jason and Bruce ultimately both want the same thing. Jason wants to be welcomed back into the family and to be loved and appreciated. Bruce want's Jason back as his son and wants to love and protect Jason. Both of these visions are shown in the last chapter of Cheer while under the effect of the Cheer Gas. It's ultimately this love and appreciation they both have for each other that helps them overcome their challenge and win.

Jason Todd is a character who, just like Bruce, has been through so much pain and so much hate in his life. The two are meant to parallel each other. While Bruce chose to see the best in everyone, giving every rogue in his gallery the option to be helped and give them a second chance, hence why he never kills, Jason has a similar view on wanting to protect the public, but he understands that some crimes are so heinous they cannot be forgiven, or that some habitual criminals are due to stay habitual criminals, and need to be put down. But at the end of the day, the two of them both try to protect people in their own ways.

I am aware that through the writings of various DC Comics authors such as Scott Lobdell and Judd Winick, the two have had a very tumultuous relationship. And rightfully so, I am by no means saying that Scott Lobdell writing an arc where Bruce literally beats Jason to within an inch of his life in Red Hood and the Outlaws, nor Judd Winick's interpretation of Under the Red Hood where Bruce throws the Batarang at Jason's neck, slicing his throat and leaving him ambiguously for dead at the end of the comic is appropriate considering DC Comics seems to be trying everything they can to integrate Jason back into the family. That being said, a lot of these writings have shaped the narrative of Jason and Bruce's relationship and have an integral effect on the way the fandom views the two. It doesn't help that Zdarsky acknowledged Lobdell's life-beating of Jason by Bruce at the very end of Cheer by having Bruce give Jason his old outfit back as a means of mending the fence between the two of them. That does complicate a lot of things in terms of how they are viewed by the fandom and helps to cause an even greater divide between the two.

Regardless, I want to emphasize the fact that Jason Todd is a part of the family of his own accord. Yes, he's quite snarky and deadpan in almost every encounter. However, Jason is absolutely a part of the family and has been for a while of his own will. There's a great moment in Detective Comics that emphasizes this. Jason cares about his family because it is his found family. Yes, they may be warry about him and use him as a punching back and/or heckle him. At the end of the day, we're debating the family dynamics of a fictional playboy billionaire vigilante whose kleptomania took the form of adopting troubled children and turning them into vigilante heroes. Jason Todd wants a family that will love and support him. This is a key definition of his character at its most basic. This was proven during the events of Cheer and is being reenforced by DC Comics every time they get the opportunity to do so.

Now, none of this is to say that I hate Judd Winick. I do not, I don't like the fact that in all of his writings of Jason, he just writes him as a dangerous psychopath, and Winick himself admits to seeing Jason as nothing much more than a psychopath. Yet Winick is the one who the majority of the fandom clings to as the one true good writer of Jason Todd because 'Jason was competent, dangerous, smart' Listen, friends, Jason is all of that and I will never deny it. However, what I love about Jason isn't that he's dangerously smart of that writers either write him as angsty angry Tumblr sexyman bait or that they write him as an infantile man child with a gun. There's a large contention of this fandom that has an obsession with Jason Todd being this vigilante gunman who is hot and sexy and while I definitely get the appeal. It is very creepy and downright disturbing that all of you hyperfixate on his use of guns and ability to be a murderer. It is creepy and I'm not necessarily here for it.

What I love about Jason Todd is that despite all of the pain, all of the heartache, all of the betrayal, and bullying, and death, and anguish. Jason Todd is one of the most loving and supportive characters in all of DC Comics. Jason has been through so much in his life, but he still chooses to love. He still chooses to see the bright side in people. Yes, he takes a utilitarian approach and chooses to kill certain villains, but at the end of the day he wants to see a better world, and he wants to be loved. It takes so much courage and so much heart to learn to love again after one has been abused or traumatized. I would not blame Jason at all if he said fuck it and just went full solo and vigilante evil. He has every right to, but he still chooses to be with the Bat Family of his own accord. That's something that I see a lot of in myself. I have been through a lot of trauma and yet I try to be a better person myself in any way that I can. It is extremely admirable of Jason to allow love back into his heart when he really doesn't need to. He kills and he protects because he has this love of society. It may have been shaped by anger and hatred, but Jason has found his place amongst people who love him and value him. I think Ducra, from Red Hood and the Outlaws put it best in the image given below.

To end this tangent, I love Jason Todd and all of his sexy dangerousness, but it's far more than that. As much as Jason may be dangerous and snarky, he loves his family without a shadow of a doubt. I look up to Jason Todd because despite all of his pain and all of his trauma, he still choses to love. Jason Todd is a character who is someone I love because despite all of his flaws and having a very toxic fandom, he still serves as a character filled with so much heart and so much passion. I wish more writers would understand that. But for now I will live with what I have. Even though the fandom may be vocal about it's hatred for his characterization, I choose to love Jason regardless because he is a character who chooses love and acceptance regardless of his pain. Jason Todd is by no means a good person in any sense of the word. He has easily killed upwards of 100 people by now. He is a character who is flawed and complex but ultimately is one who powers forwards and finds love and heart in a place from so much pain and anguish. That is what I love about Jason Todd. After all, to quote a famous undead robot superhero, "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Jason Todd chooses to love despite all of the trauma and pain and grief. Yes, he is hardened in his exterior, but inside there is a man with a lot of love to give and someone who deserves the world in my eyes.

[unholyplumpprincess]

Your Mark

For anon who asked:  what if reader gets the tattoos on their fingers right as BH leaves for the Games, and when they come back, the tatts are healed and they get really excited and spend a solid amount of time just holding reader's hands delicately and softly tracing the runes and notices one of their fingers not-so-subtly reads 'prey'?

You made it correct and horny so u get the Treat. Although no rune nor symbolism exists for ‘prey�� that would be in the nordic branch, HOWEVER I did improvise and added a lil treat that leans into their Paganism AND their breeding kink. Bone apple teet!

Reblogs > Likes. Must have your age (18+ only) in your bio before interaction or you will be blocked.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bloodhound/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gn and ambiguous so no specified parts, however oral is performed on them, Bloodhound headcanons + their body mods mentioned ofc, tattooing your own body to mark yourself as Theirs, aaaand a bit of primal play/ d/s stuff! And an implied breeding kink bc it’s Hound.

Words: 1.3k

_____

It was a surprise.  

You’d been excited—well, not excited for Bloodhound to leave your shared little home on Talos, no, but you’d been excited to be able to schedule the appointment with the tattoo artist. You’d done it under their nose, normally telling Bloodhound about things that excited you, it had been so painful to be so giddy and to see them curious. They had wrapped their arms around you the day before, kissing your forehead once you leant down for them to do so and questioned you with a soft, dimpled smile of, “My love, what has you so excitable recently? Do you wish for me to leave so badly?”  

It had been a tease, but you’d quickly yelped out, “Of course not! I just...have a surprise for you when you come home, that’s all, baby.” To which they’d raised their brows, curiously backing you up against the wall and crooned in your ear that they had ways of making you talk. Despite your flush, you were firm that you wanted to keep it a surprise, and they respected that with a playful pout to their expression.  

When they had left that morning, you had kissed them goodbye and let them rest your foreheads together. They murmured to themself before calling for Muninn to follow, whilst Arthur stayed behind with you and happily crooned. Because he knew he got to get babied while they were away for the month.  

~Rest under the cut~

The bot that had worked on your skin had done a beautiful job, and you’d been careful about the healing process. Diligently keeping moisturized and wrapping your hands up, although it was a touch difficult when it came time to harvest the vegetables and fruits outside in the garden. Your little  two-story  cottage in the middle of the woods was always such a comfort with the bugs humming and Arthur’s familiar croaking overhead or nearby.  

At the end of the month, hiatus hits for the week. And your love you had seen participating in the bloody sport of the Apex games would return to you that day. You were excited, all healed up and taking the time to clean up around the house. Making sure that the stack of furs and quilts were returned to the bed so Bloodhound would not freeze at night. Your poor puppy, always so cold no matter how warm it was outside. But they weren’t a ‘poor puppy’ when they were sticking their cold fingers against your back at night.  

The first signal of their return is Muninn’s much softer croaking. Her voice lower and gentler as you see her land from the window on her perch on the porch. The season made the outside look beautiful in oranges and browns of Autumn’s return, and why you yourself had bundled into sweatpants and a comfortable, large black hoodie with the little Apex symbol over the left breast. Thieved from Hound’s closet.  

Your beloved comes dressed in civilian clothing through the path in the woods. Their fiery red, kinky tight curls pulled up into a ponytail to reveal the shaved underside of their head and their various ear piercings. A lower black face mask with white sharp teeth on the front like a demonic mouth and their red lensed, large circular glasses rest on their nose. They come bundled in a large jacket with a fur collar, tactical pants, gloves, and boots. Clearly trying to burrow under the neck of their jacket from the chilled air.  

When you step outside to greet them, you note the quicker pep in their step to reach you. They’re a bit shorter than you, something that always delighted you, even more so when they scoop you up by your waist and twirl you once in front of the door. “I have missed you greatly.” They practically croon out, allowing you to guide them inside where it would be much warmer.  

From there you let them settle in. Their boots and mask coming off, instantly seeking out a kiss from you that you grant, cupping their chilly cheeks with your warm hands and hearing them hum in appreciation. And as always, they reach up to gently grab your hand, turning their face to kiss your palm affectionately. Moving your hand so they could kiss your knuckles, only to pause.  

You can’t stop the big grin on your face as you announce, “Surprise!!! This is your surprise- I know it’s probably not like. You know, a gift or anything but uh- I wanted to get something that made me think of you.” Their eyes flicker up to you, this warm expression behind their red lenses. Bloodhound’s full lips quirk upwards, taking both your hands now to inspect the black inked tattoos across the backs of your hands. “I just thought it’d be...you know, uh, kind of romantic if I had your markings on me. All the time?”  

Bloodhound- you knew they were sappy in their heart, always so fond of affection- they can’t help but smile brightly now. Showing off their double canines as they look at each rune. You had been careful on your research. Strength on your thumbs, protection on your indexes, blessings on your middles as a quiet joke. But then on your ring fingers, you had Bloodhound’s eye, the symbol they used in the arena and as a symbol of marking you. But on your pinkies? You had an outline of a rabbit for prey, with a small rune in the center of each for Fertility.  

Those last two you finger their thumb brushing over the most. Quietly holding one of your hands and looking over the runes and how your fingers have matching stripes going above and below each knuckle. The artist did a wonderful job, you were very happy with the outcome.  

 “Are you tired, puppy? I know your trek must have been long, especially in the cold.” You murmur softly, raising your free hand to tuck a few loose curls behind their ear. The gesture makes Bloodhound’s eyes raise from your hand, their thumb smoothing over your pinky’s knuckle idly.  

“I am not any longer. Not when you have shown that you have permanently marked your body like this,” Bloodhound’s voice is lower, their eyes dropping to make a point of lifting your hand to kiss your ring and pinky knuckles. “How am I to keep myself from you now?”  

“Who said you had to?” You can’t help but reply with a breathy little laugh in your throat. Dizzy from how hungrily they look at you.   

“Is that an invitation, my love?”  

“Always.”  

--  

That’s how you end up in bed with them. Them stripped down to their pants, socks, and low-necked t-shirt, you completely undressed and your thighs on either side of their head. Your fingers rest in their curls, curling in at the roots to tug their head where you wanted their mouth most. They offer it to you without much fight, mindful of their sharp canines when they part their lips and take you in again and again and making you shake with your third orgasm.  

Bloodhound swallows and licks you through it with their split tongue, each dual drag and the bump of their piercings making you twitch and whimper. But every time you try to get up, their nails press into your thighs and their strong arms hold you right in place. This time when you try to pull yourself back up with soft whimpers of, “Please, please- I can’t- Hound, baby, it’s t-too much-” They pull their mouth from you, pressing hungry kisses to your inner thighs instead.  

“You are not done until I am done. Are you not my gift, beloved? My little prey to do with as I please?” Their voice is dangerous, their good eye, golden and bright looking up at you with their pupil blown wide and hungry. You sob out, spreading your legs further with a terrible tremble to your body and watch as that devilish mouth curls into a satisfied smirk. “Good. Stay still for me.”  

Before their mouth licks you up again, sealing their mouth back around you and making you keen in overstimulation.  

Perhaps they liked their surprise a little too much.  

[therealjambery]

Long fics rec post is long

What better way to while away the time than fanfiction? Long fanfiction! And when I say long, I mean long, like so long it is three novels put together, how on earth did you find time to write this, so long it takes even me more than one day to read long. I'm irrationally jealous of all of these writers, as I am the type of writer who has a hard time dashing off 10,000 words in a timely fashion, let alone writing anything longer.

I'm using the SFWA's definition of a novel here, which is anythiing over 40,000 words.

These are all stories I've loved, and most of them I've actually got saved as PDFs so I can re-read them wherever I want. I'm digging pretty deep into the archives for this one, kids, so hold onto your hats.

Fandoms: Avengers/Marvel, Firefly, Inception, Leverage, Merlin, Stargate Atlantis, Star Trek AOS, Supernatural, Torchwood

Fandom: Avengers/MCU/Marvel/Whatever we're calling it these days

in deep with you darling by topaz Author's Summary: Darcy could have, under normal circumstances, resisted the aesthetics (however awesome they are, and holy crap are they awesome), but there's an itch under her skin—apparently, nearly dying by giant, fire-breathing robots from space in the middle of Nowhere, New Mexico will start you questioning your life choices. Who knew? Main Pairing: Clint/Darcy Words: 48024

runaways are running the night by anothercover Author's Summary: Clint did like that the photo stayed private. He’s shit at social media, only on it because, you know, he has to be, but even Clint knew it was the kind of candid that was Instagrammable - #queen, #legend, #rawmemama, etcetera, ad nauseam, he’s pretty sure he could predict the comments before anyone actually typed them. (Bucky once said “raw me, mama?” to her with a goddamn straight face and Natasha’s expression of abject horror while she tried to work out if he meant it had made Clint laugh so fucking hard he was certain he’d ripped an organ in half. He still wants to find a way to work that story into his act, because on the one hand, people love it when he talks about his marriage, but it’s hard to find a way into it that doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of their fans, and that’s a big no-go.) AU: Natasha's in a band, Clint is basically John Mulaney, it's great Main Pairing: Clint/Natasha/Bucky Words: 53873

Ready, Fire, Aim 'Verse by gyzym Author's Summary: There's no "I" in "Avenger." Main Pairing: Steve/Tony Words: 63019

Ain't No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) by spitandvinegar Author's Summary: It's six in the morning, and Steve is heading out on a run when he nearly trips over a bouquet of sunflowers on the front steps of his brownstone.

For a second paranoia takes over, and he kicks the flowers a little, waiting for them to explode. They don't. They also came with a card, which he picks up. The front of the card has a tasteful picture of the Brooklyn bridge at sunset. It's very nice and sedate, like the kind of card you would buy to give to your boss. On the inside someone has written a short message in big, shaky block letters.

I AM SORRY FOR SHOOTING YOU.

Steve sits down hard on the steps. Main Pairing: Steve/Bucky Words: 107076

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail series by owlet Author's Summary: The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect Main Pairing: Steve/Bucky Words: 264438

Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club by sara_holmes Author's Summary: Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club. (Invitation and pending mental health evaluation required.)

"When Steve brings Bucky back to the tower for the first time, Clint’s first thought is that Tony Stark’s pride and joy is quickly becoming a less of a very tall and expensive ‘fuck you’ in the faces of investors who don’t believe in self-sustaining energy, and more of a superhero rehabilitation center."

Boyfriends, compromises and learning to like oneself. Main Pairing: Clint/Bucky Words: 67059

Nobody Lost, Nobody Found by ClaraxBarton Author's Summary: "Look, dude, I get it. You’re fucked-up. HYDRA fucked you up. I’ve been there. But you’re my fucking Soul Mate!"

“I can kill you. I could kill you without even realizing what I was doing. I’m not fucked-up, I’m a monster. I’m a nightmare. You can’t be here. You can’t- All the people I’ve killed- I will not murder my Soul Mate too. Not after everything else I’ve-”

Clint worked his left hand between their bodies and managed to land a punch to the man’s right side, forcing him to shift his weight, and Clint brought his right hand down on the place where the man’s metal arm met his torso - hidden by the shirt he wore, but on full display in the video Clint had watched.

The man released Clint with a grunt of pain, and Clint pressed his advantage, landing another punch to his abdomen, backing him up against the opposite side of the RV and then pressing the kitchen knife he had pocketed while cleaning up earlier to the man’s throat.

“Like I said, I’m not a Boy Scout. I’m plenty dangerous myself. We clear on that?”

OR:

This looks bad, because it is.

OR:

How Clint Barton met his Soul Mate AU: soulmates! Main Pairing: Clint/Bucky Words: 108331

Ronin!Clint 'verse by shatteredhourglass Author's Summary: “Who the fuck are you and how did you get this line?”

“I have my ways,” the voice says, amused. “Don’t worry, I’m just enjoying the view, Captain America.” Main Pairing: Clint/Bucky Words: 63266

Fandom: Firefly/Supernatural

Weight and Motion by sevenfists [note: the podfic by dodificus is excellent] Author's Summary: The pears were ripe, Kaylee told him, but Mal wouldn't eat any of them. They were a present, nestled all sweet and green in a wooden crate that a grateful passenger gave them right before they left her on Greenleaf. AU: Crossover, Dean ends up on Serenity, just roll with it Main Pairing: Mal/Dean Words: 43117

Fandom: Inception

All the World is Bullet Shaped by pushdragon Author's Summary: If Arthur thinks that, just by waving enough money around, he can get Eames to risk his life and reputation to rescue him from a death sentence, he's got another thing coming. So Eames sets a malicious, undignified price on his services, one he can be certain that a man like Arthur would never condescend to pay. It turns out to be the first of many mistakes. Main Pairing: Arthur/Eames Words: 76656

I Seem to Be a Verb by Aja Author's Summary: Arthur owns a quirky hipster science bookstore. Eames is a world-famous mega-celebrity.

Clearly this calls for a meet-cute. AU: Notting Hill AU Main Pairing: Arthur/Eames Words: 93837

In Medias Res by starlingthefool Author's Summary: What's the most resilient infection? What's more infectious than a cold, deadlier than cholera? What lingers in your blood forever?

Love, of course. Mal has always known that. Her pointman Eames may dismiss her for a romantic, but for better or worse, love has gotten her this far. AU: Mirror-verse Main Pairing: Arthur/Eames, Mal/Dom Words: 52662

The Music Makers by mami_san Author's Summary: A. Graham Cole was twenty-one years old when he was killed in action in Iraq. This is the official story. The truth is, of course, somewhat different. Main Pairing: Arthur/Eames Words: I dunno, because it's not on AO3. But my PDF is 451KB so it's over 50k, most likely.

Presque Vu by rageprufrock Author's Summary: Or, "on the tip of the tongue." Arthur meets Mal first. He inherits Dom, after. Everything else is on him. Main Pairing: Arthur/Eames Words: 69588

Wherever You Will Be (That's Where I'll Call Home) [The DomesticVerse] by gyzym Author's Summary: People you kiss in an airport baggage claim and then don't talk to for thirteen months shouldn't be able to exist, let alone make your chest do the things Arthur's chest is doing. There are rules. Main Pairing: Arthur/Eames Words: 74828

Fandom: Leverage

Psychic AU series by Laughtsalot3412 Author's Summary: He had a sniper rifle scoping the girl’s bright eyes and the guy’s smile. AU: They all have psychic powers Main Pairing: OT3 Eliot/Parker/Alec Words: 89955

Fandom: Merlin

[note: look, I don't even go here. I've never watched the show. But.]

Drastically Redefining Protocol by rageprufrock Author's Summary: In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell promptly breaks loose. AU: Modern AU Main Pairing: Arthur/Merlin Words: 46,059

The Student Prince by FayJay Author's Summary: A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love... AU: Modern AU Main Pairing: Arthur/Merlin Words: 145222

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves by auburn Author's Summary: Vala Mal Doran and her partners, renegades Jehan abd-Ba'al and Meredith McKay, hijack the Tau'ri ship Prometheus and leave the Milky Way behind in search of the Lost City of the Ancients, Atlantis. AU: Space pirates! Main Pairing: John/Rodney Words: 180299

The Price That Life Exacts by cathalin Author's Summary:When John disappears without a trace during a routine mission, people in a beleaguered Atlantis eventually have to try to move on. Rodney never completely gives up hope of finding John, and though he soldiers on to help Atlantis, a year later he still lives every day with his grief. Main Pairing: John/Rodney Words: 63369

Written By the Victors by Spreranza Author's Summary: Caroll, Franklin R. Atlantis Revisited. New York and London, Routledge, 2011. Chapman, Denise. Several Kinds of Genius: The Life of Rodney McKay. NY: Harper Perennial, 2015. Croft, Rosalind. City of Spires: A Memoir. Toronto: The Mercury Press, 2009. Dugan, Paul. A Political History of Atlantis. Oxford: OUP, 2012. Main Pairing: John/Rodney Words: 52843

Tongues of Men and Angels by Mad_Maudlin Author's Summary: When SG-4 is ambushed offworld, an injured Major John Sheppard must put his trust in a Tok'ra agent named McKay to survive. But what secrets is McKay keeping about his mission, the planet, and his own motives for helping John? AU: They didn't go to Atlantis Main Pairing: John/Rodney Words: 58523

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

The Least of All Possible Mistakes by rageprufrock Author's Summary: If ever a people deserved tasering, it’s Holmeses. Main Pairing: Lestrade/Mycroft AU: Genderbent Lestrade Words: 118096

Fandom: Supernatural

Red by Big Pink [note: seriously, this is one of my favorite fics/series ever and I have the ebooks if you want to not read this on LJ or FF.net] Author's Summary: Something evil is killing treeplanters in the forests of the Pacific Northwest, possibly the same predator that Dean narrowly escaped years before. How Grimm will things get before the brothers figure it out? Main Pairing: none Words: 81839

Fandom: Supernatural/Stargate Atlantis

And All the World Beneath by seperis Author's Summary: Dean remembers Texas as blackland stretching in marker-thick strips of vivid brown and black, broken with the sprawling metroplexes of Dallas and San Antonio and Houston; farms spread with the yellow tops of maize waving in pre-autumn winds, threshers moving complacently through the fields with drowsy men in hats waving at the road. He remembers green and gold fields dotted with cows, half-year calves running on the outskirts of the herds. He remembers these were what he saw between jobs, lives being lived that had nothing to do with creeping twilight and sleeping only behind salt circles and ritual wards. AU: Cthulhu mythos Main Pairing: Dean/John, John/Rodney Words: 67279

Fandom: Star Trek AOS

Leave No Soul Behind by whochick Author's Summary: If you're Starfleet, you spend your whole life wishing you never see an EPAS uniform right up until the moment they become your only hope. Whether you're dying a slow, cold death in space, or a long painful one on some godforsaken planet, they're going to come for you. So count your last breaths, son, and hold on tight. They leave no soul behind. AU: Spock did not join Starfleet, he joined the Emergency Personnel Ambulance Service (EPAS) Main Pairing: Kirk/Spock Words: 258951

The Lotus Eaters by aldora89 Author's Summary: Stranded on the planet Sigma Nox while searching for a missing away team, Spock and Kirk find themselves pitted against a disturbing native life form. With the captain out of commission on a regular basis and Spock struggling to preserve his stoicism, staying alive is difficult enough – but when a slim chance for escape surfaces, their resolve is truly put to the test. Together they must fight for survival in the heart of an alien jungle, and in the process, uncover the mystery of the planet’s past. Main Pairing: Kirk/Spock Words: 93594

Only Good for Legends by leupagus Author's Summary: Detective Spock, born on Vulcan and resident of San Francisco, is assigned to the Midwest police bureau. I think everyone can guess what happens next. AU: Spock is a Detective. Otherwise it's pretty much the same, including Kirk's petty criminal tendencies. Main Pairing: Kirk/Spock Words: 149640

So Wise We Grow by Deastar Author's Summary: "Commander Spock, we have located your son," the Vulcan lady on the screen says, which would be great, except Jim can tell by the look on Spock's face that he's never heard of this kid before in his life. "If it is expedient, the child will be sent to join you on the Enterprise within the week." AU: kidfic Main Pairing: Kirk/Spock Words: 81248

Switch by Ceres_Libera Author's Summary: The life and times of Leonard H. McCoy MD/PhD … If Leonard McCoy's life could get any fucking weirder, it would be … Jesus, he didn't even want to think what that could possibly mean, because it's already been too fucking weird to make any kind of rational sense. Main Pairing: Kirk/McCoy Words: 230867

Fandom: Torchwood

The Rose of Jericho by kaydeefalls Author's Summary: Post-CoE. When Martha Jones encounters a dark UNIT cover-up in the wake of the 456, it's up to Gwen's new Torchwood team to bring the truth to light -- and save Ianto. AU: alternate ending post Children of Earth Main Pairing: Jack/Ianto Words: 62606

That should keep you busy for a while, right? If you have other long fic recs, let me know in the comments/with a reblog!

[flourchildwrites]

Hi, If you are still taking prompts, would you mind writing fictober "Ruins" for Havolina? :)

Witch, Please!  Fictober 2019  (27/30)

A multi-fandom Fictober prompt compilation.  Your wish is my command, but be careful what you ask for.  You just might get it.

For @tomoehawkeye

Prompt:  “Ruins” from Writetober 2019 Prompt List

Fandom:  Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)

Relationship/Pairing:  Rebecca Catalina/Jean Havoc

Genre:  Alternate Universe - Practical Magic, Witches and Family Curses, High School Sweethearts

Rating:  Teen And Up Audiences

Word Count:  1,566 words

Read on AO3

The Catalina women were blamed for everything that went wrong in their small island town, but it was, perhaps, the men they loved who suffered the most. The curse was well-known, less a legend and more a source of gossip that sprang eternal when the rumor mill ran dry. And yet, for cousins Riza and Rebecca, the plague on their household was all too real.

Too real when their fathers died sudden and mysterious deaths. Too real when their mothers took their leave, courtesy of broken hearts that refused to mend.

By the time young Rebecca arrived at the wrought iron gates of Stonybrook Cottage, Riza had already settled in. She was the spitting image of her mother, Aunt Elizabeth, with wispy blonde hair, copper eyes and a pale heart-shaped face. Though pretty, her cousin was tomboy through and through, smelling perpetually of fresh-cut grass and more than willing to beat local boys at their own games when a competitive mood stuck.

Appropriately, Rebecca quickly proved herself to be her cousin’s complement. Bold where Riza was shy but charming where her cousin was prone to confrontation, they got along as only two halves of a whole could. And while Riza was fair and lithe, Rebecca grew into the curves of her tan complexion and leaned into the power of a pair of dark bedroom eyes that stopped people in their tracks.

Under the old roof of Stonybrook Cottage, the cousins claimed their birthright courtesy of two ageless aunts who mirrored the girls’ contrast. Aunt Maria lectured long about astrology, signs and art of spellcraft while Aunt Olivier exclusively taught the subtle science of potion-making and dabbled in the occasional duel. High school existed also, and Rebecca thought the place a bore, punctuated frequently by childish whispers, taunting rhymes and hateful scribbles on the bathroom stalls.

Rebecca Catalina ❤’s Jean HavocRest in Pieces, Jean

“Who did it?” Riza bellowed, aware that their entire gym class (sans Rebecca) was in on the joke.

Unforthcoming giggles emanated from the gaggle of girls still present in the locker room, not one woman enough to own the egregious act. They hid their sneers behind ramrod straight fringes of hair and hands pressed to their mouths.

“Riza,” Rebecca warned. She grabbed her cousin’s arm as she felt the hex gathering on the tip of her tongue. “It isn’t worth it. Besides, Jean and I are just friends.”

“Friends who suck face under the bleachers,” Patricia Parkinson grumbled. “So sad that Jean has a death wish.”

Between Rebecca and Riza, it wasn’t always clear who was the witch to blame, least of all to the students and faculty of the Southaven High. But when the locker room mirrors began to tremble and the faucets popped off the pipes, spewing water over the offending girls and their belongings, Coach Sheska was forced to concede that the dry parties were the most likely culprits.

“Nice one,” Riza offered. As the two made their way to the principal’s office, she looked at her cousin with a sly pair of eyes that Rebecca refused to meet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rebecca maintained. “That was totally you.”

“Was not. I was going to bind their hands, not wreck the entire bathroom. Not that I don’t approve.”

Rebecca suppressed a dark grin. “Well, whoever did it, the Aunts aren’t going to like the property destruction,” she remarked, happily diverting the conversation to the inevitable consequences.

“No, but they’ll understand. They always do. Just be careful with Jean. Couldn’t have fallen for a girl or nonbinary person instead, could you?”

“No,” Rebecca admitted, “I had little choice in the matter.”

…

Rebecca often consoled herself that Jean Havoc was made of tough stuff. He reminded her of it every time they met beneath the bleachers (his choice) or in the back of his car (her preference). There was something playful about parking Jean’s crossover out by the lake on the Catalina estate, watching the sunset and seeing just how far the seats could recline.

But tonight was different. Rebecca knew it from the way he looked at her. Her stomach lurched pleasantly when she saw he’d shaved his face and pressed his collared shirt. A foreboding, ringbox-shaped bulge in Jean’s back pocket sealed the deal. Rebbeca did her best to distract him, knowing she wouldn’t have the heart to turn him down.

So, she pulled Jean into the backseat and pushed him against the leather interior, envious of the way the slick surface must have pressed against his skin. Hips rolled and mouths crashed into one another in the dwindling light of the setting sun. And suddenly, Jean wrapped his strong arms around Rebecca’s waist and maneuvered them both to a sitting position. He pulled away just in time to ask a question as she trailed warm kisses up his neck.

“I’ve always wanted to know why there’s a fireplace jutting out of the middle of the lake,” he said, glancing sideways at his girlfriend.

Rebecca sighed and took in more of Jean’s cringeworthy corner store cologne. At first, she’d disliked the smell. Now, she craved it, going as far as to keep one of his undershirts beneath her pillow. If Jean wondered where it had gone, he didn’t ask.

She straightened up and decided to tell the story as quickly as possible. “That’s all that’s left of the old Catalina Manor,” she explained. “Surely, you know that old rumor.”

She dived down for another kiss but was stopped by a pair of inquisitive eyes. “I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Fine,” Rebecca relented. She slid off his lap and smoothed her mussed hair to one side. Jean took to massaging the soles of her feet as she spoke, a sure sign of ingratiation that obliged Rebecca’s toes to curl.

“My ancestor, Prudence Catalina, lived in that house with her family, and some people thought that she was more than a healer. They thought she was a… y’ know-”

“-a witch?”

“Yes, that. Anyway, one day, the good townsfolk of Southhaven decided to charge Prudence with witchcraft and sentenced her to burn. But her husband wouldn’t let her go without a fight. So, a mob set the house on fire. Prudence cast a spell of protection on the fireplace where she and her daughter waited out the flames.”

“So, that’s why it’s still standing then?  Prudence’s protection spell?” Jean probed.

“Sure,” Rebecca offered warily, “if you believe in magic.”

The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, coupled with heady eye contact that made Rebecca want to crawl back into her lover’s lap and stay there until eternity passed them by. Jean’s hands moved passed her ankles, working her calves with delicious, rolling pressure. Rebecca wasn’t entirely sure there wasn’t magic in his fingers, least of all because of how her tongue seemed to loosen.

This was the worst part of the story. Still, Rebecca continued, if only because Jean had asked her so nicely.

“But Prudence’s husband died in the fire, and she never recovered, even though the townsfolk were fearful of her power and resolved to leave her alone. She raised her daughter in the cottage my family still lives in but was often found crying by her old home’s ruins where she buried her husband. Over time, her tears formed this lake, and in a fit of despair, she cast a spell on herself. The depth of her bitterness twisted into a curse. Which is, I’m sure, what you really wanted to know about.”

Jean hummed in response. “I wonder why you care about it so much. I think about why you won’t let me kiss you in public, and you give me all these talismans to wear.”

He pulled at a long chain concealed beneath his shirt to reveal several small circle pendants adorned with geometric designs and ancient sigils. Each one sang softly with the labor of Rebecca’s love, though she wouldn’t call it that. Not yet.

Rebecca pinched the bridge of her nose. “Amulets, Jean,” she laughed. “Not talismans. There’s a difference. And you know why you wear them.”

Jean moved over her, then, slipping his hand behind her neck and kissing the burgundy lipstick from her lips.

“Loving you,” he confessed, “helps me to understand why Prudence’s husband did it. I’d do it, too, and I’d gladly tell those girls at school where to go for taunting you like they do. Curses are made to be broken, Becky, if you’ll have me.”

She knew what he meant, and wanted to say yes.

Rebecca wanted to run away with Jean and start a new life elsewhere, however pointless that would be in the end. Her mother had tried it, and so had Riza’s parents. They all ended up six feet under with their perfect lives reduced to ruin. Long ago, Riza and Rebecca had resolved to be different, but that was before Rebecca met Jean Havoc, his last name so apt for what he did to her resolve.

Instead of responding, she kissed him with her eyes shut tight, as if she was just a girl and he was her guy. As if the curse was just a tragic fairy tale told by lovers at the lake.

Somewhere near the murky banks of the water, the death-watch beetle began its ominous countdown, and across the estate, Riza startled, knowing there was much work to be done.

A/N:  Thank you for the prompt, @tomoehawkeye! Sorry, this is a little late. I caught a stomach virus. I hope you like it as much as I like these sort of asks popping up in my tumblr inbox. Anyway, if you read something you like, don’t hesitate to let me know in whatever way you want. Your kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, comments, likes and reblogs make my day!

[thedunesea]

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary:

The only thing I can say for sure is that Anakin talks so much I barely have time to think. Which is something I’m terribly grateful for.

Excerpts from the journal of a newly minted Jedi Knight.

I have smiled so much these past few days my facial muscles hurt. Smile for the Queen, smile for the Chancellor, smile for the cameras. Smile for Yoda and the Council.

Above all, smile for the boy.

I’ve never felt less like smiling.

I am still on Naboo. It has been three days.

I wish I could spar.

*

I am finally back at the Temple; I suppose an entry is in order.

I would never have thought

It began When we It happened

I find I am at loss.

With all my belief in the power of words, I’m beginning to think that some things just cannot be conveyed. Perhaps it’s for the better: let memories, sensations and emotions fade into the Force. Maybe, if never put into words, they will one day hurt less.

Who am I trying to fool?

Stick to the facts, one could say, but it’s an exercise in futility. Naboo Security has provided the Archives with footing of the whole incident; there is no need for me to write down what happened. By the way, I have not seen the footage; I think I never will. At any rate, its testimony is certainly more reliable than mine: my memories are but a red blur.

The only thing I can say for sure is that Anakin talks so much I barely have time to think. Which is something I’m terribly grateful for.

Oh, here he comes.

*

And so it began: today we had our meeting with the Council of First Knowledge to devise a course plan for Anakin. I feel for him: coursework was hard enough for me, his schedule is going to be a nightmare. I suppose Dex will get more than his usual share of Jedi founds over the next few months: the least I can do is give the boy some treats.

Another thing that came out of the meeting was that, apparently, slaying a Sith Lord in mortal combat makes you qualify not only for Knighthood but for lightsaber classes too. Master Drallig’s schedule is full, so he will just teach Anakin the basic drills. The rest falls upon me.

When I brought the outcome of the meeting before the High Council for approval, Master Windu proposed to have Anakin join the Initiates classes, and I found myself forced to take exception. Just imagine, me going against the Master of the Order.

I said I wouldn’t subject the boy to what he will inevitably perceive as humiliating, being taught with children half his age. A Jedi shall know no pride, I know, but Anakin is not a Jedi yet. In time he will learn. I am glad that Master Gallia and Master Koon sided with me; in the end, even Yoda agreed.

It looks like I’m taking up the mantle of maverick, doesn’t it? Wherever you are, Master, I hoper you’re having a good laugh.

Ah. I was almost forgetting. Satine sent condolences. It’s hard to tell from a hologram, but she looked well. I do hope she is happy.

*

I already spoke of the perks of slaying a Sith Lord in mortal combat. Today I discovered the downside.

Sparring triggers memories. In hindsight it shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was, and a most unwelcome one.

I would never have thought I would say this, but thank the Force I was sparring with Vos, and not with Garen or Tachi. Apparently, Quin’s line of work has somehow managed to put some tact in him; this is something I can’t say for either Garen or Siri.

Of course Quin’s first thought was the Mind Healers, but he agreed with me that some people on the Council would jump at the excuse to reassess my suitability as a Master, and this is something I can’t allow to happen.

Still, I need to fix this issue before I start one-on-one training with Anakin: he needs a Master in control. So in control I will be.

It is somewhat contrary to the point, but I wish I could just go out and get drunk.

Actually I could - Vos thinks I should, and who else is surprised? - but with all the coursework Anakin has we barely see each other during the day. I am not going to leave him alone in the evenings too. Besides, only the Force knows what kind of mechanical devilry I might find upon my return. No, better stay home and keep an eye on the boy.

*

Garen tells me I look better; Siri Tachi – and I’m quoting here – says I look like shit. Bant just sighs. Reeft, of course, just eats.

It seems my mirror agrees with Tachi: I can’t say I liked what I saw when I shaved this morning. Maybe I should eat more.

I certainly should sleep more. Incidentally, Anakin and I make for a fine pair of insomniacs. When I woke up tonight - I don’t even need to say what I was dreaming of - I found him tampering with a droid on the couch. I can’t fathom how he managed to turn our living room into a dumpster in less than a week. I suppose he’s not used to having this many things around. Anyway, it comes out he has trouble sleeping: he says he has always had, for as long as he remembers. It doesn’t surprise me: his connection to the Force is impressive. Overwhelming, even, and dreams are an obvious outlet for the abilities he repressed for so long. In time, as he learns control, they will pass.

One of my suspicions turned out to be true: indeed, Anakin seems to find his peace of mind in tinkering with mechanical objects. Peculiar, to say the least. He showed me how to reprogram a vocabulator to make it compatible with non-droid units. The result is that our fridge now starts speaking every time we open the fruit compartment. For some reason, it only speaks Shyriiwook. It’s quite entertaining, to be honest. I hope our laughing fits didn’t wake our neighbours in the middle of the night.

Even after all this, though, Anakin didn’t want to tell me what he dreamed of. I believe it was his mother.

I wish I could say I don’t know how it feels to miss a parental figure.

*

Today I lost my Padawan. We lasted together little more than three weeks.

I blame the debacle on astronavigation, my archenemy of old. It was clear from the start that Anakin doesn’t share my belief that flying is for droids, so asking Garen to tutor him seemed the natural choice. What I gained for my troubles was that Garen put the boy in a starfighter, and now they’ve been gone for hours.

Thit is the reason why I write this journal in the first place: I learn from my own history so I’m not doomed to repeat it. I will introduce Anakin to Vos when I’m dead.

On the other hand, I’m looking forward to introducing him to Tachi. Garen says Anakin is cute, and I must admit he is endearing: I’m sure he will manage to thaw even Siri’s icy heart, and I will enjoy every second of it.

The nightmares don’t stop, neither for me nor for Anakin. I’m getting sick of all that red.

*

I really wished Qui-Gon was here.

I’m not sure I’m ready for this Padawan business, and I have no idea how to deal with Anakin’s nightmares. He won’t tell me what they are about, he won’t meditate. We just spend our nights tinkering. It’s not how it should be done. I am afraid I’ll soon start spoiling him rotten. Look at me, Jedi Knight of the Republic, fussing over a child like a mother hen.

I should ask for help, I know I should, but I can’t risk the Council taking Anakin away from me. I promised I would train him, and I will.

I even tried searching the HoloNet for “Force-sensitives nightmares”. Well, the results certainly made for an entertaining read; apparently, there is a Corellian Heavy-Isotop band named Force Nightmare. I had to laugh at my own folly, but self-pity will get me nowhere. Neither will all this caf, and I even hate the stuff, but I barely sleep and what else am I supposed to do?

All in all, today is not a good day.

I can’t even spar, and no amount of meditation seems to change that.

I lost control again in the Halls. Quin said I scared him.

All I see when I ignite my saber is red.

*

Shall I start from the good news or the bad?

Let’s start with the good news, laced with a little optimism. I spoke to Master Drallig: I had to. Anakin can’t be taught by a Master who goes on a murderous spree every time he lays his hand on a weapon. Master Drallig believes it will pass; according to him, it is a common occurrence in such a scenario. I don’t know how “common” applies to the scenario “Master killed by a Sith Lord”, but I will defer to Master Drallig’s wisdom, of course.

The bad news is, he told me he believes that what triggers my memories is my using the same moves Master Qui-Gon and I used during the duel. He believes that switching to another saber form could provide a solution, at least for the moment.

Needless to say, I’m not particularly happy with the idea. Ataru in our lineage goes back to Yoda himself, and almost everything I know on lightsaber combat I owe to Qui-Gon’s training. Switching to another form tastes like betrayal.

Well, a Jedi’s lot is to learn how to let go. For the moment, I will settle on “learn how to pretend to have let go”.

I am summoned to the Halls of Training next week to see what form will suit me best.

*

First day out with my Padawan.

I never thought about what visiting Coruscant for the first time could feel like; Anakin was in awe.

Unfortunately, the awe soon morphed into a crazed frenzy.

Where he stores all that energy - or the ice-cream, the candies and the two cheeseburgers he ate, for that matters - is beyond me.

Dex loved him. I am exhausted.

I think I’m going to sleep twelve hours straight.

Maybe tonight we won’t dream.

*

A Jedi shall know no pride. A Jedi, though, still knows humiliation, and going through katas weaponless because I’m afraid of myself was the epitome of humiliating.

Shii-Cho we didn’t even try. Soresu is not my style: too static and, I must say, a form focused on defence becomes boring soon enough. Juyo, the style of aggression, is out of the question. Shien is off the table too: I’d sooner be dead than use the revers grip all its practitioners seem to favor. It’s ugly. Master Drallig says I am vain; I suppose no one is perfect.

As for Djem-So, I don’t have the brute force it requires.

Unexpectedly, I found Nieman much to my liking: double wielding is perhaps a little flamboyant but, if done right, Form VI is well-balanced, physically challenging and aesthetically pleasing. I think I will give it a try: I could even use Qui-Gon’s crystal for the shoto.

What surprised me most, though, is Master Drallig’s verdict: he believes I would be proficient in Makashi, no less. It’s a pity Master Dooku left the Order; I am not party to the specifics, but I seem to understand Qui-Gon’s death played a role in his decision. Be it as it may, Master Drallig himself offered to tutor me as soon as the Initiate term is over: I was speechless for a good ten seconds. I like Makashi fine, but I must admit I’m not looking forward to specialize in a form meant for saber-to-saber combat. I’ve had my share of duels with Force-wielders for a lifetime. Besides, if the Sith are really never more than two, what odds are there I will have to confront the other too?

We shall see what form the Force has in store for me.

In the meantime, I promised Anakin I would take him to the theater tonight. I must go get ready.

*

Now that I know, I wish I didn’t.

Anakin’s shields are not yet strong enough and our morning meditation betrayed him.

Apparently, the Naboo Security didn’t think a child was out of place in their headquarters, especially not the child who had blown up the mother ship. They didn’t pay him any mind, and he slipped in as they watched the security recordings: he saw it all.

I saw his dreams. It was him behind the ray shield, and me in the generator core.

It was the first time in my life I had to comfort a crying child. By the end of it, I was more distressed than he was. When at last he stopped crying he hugged me and thanked me and sauntered away towards the next droid adventure. Children.

Me, on the contrary, he left behind with words that will haunt me for a long time.

Master, will you leave me alone too?

*

I can’t stop thinking about Anakin’s nightmares. Too focused on my own grief, on my own loss, I never fully grasped the extent of his loneliness. True, I lost Qui-Gon, and before him I lost Tahl. But I still have Quinlan, Luminara, Bant, Reeft, Garen, Siri. I have Master Yoda, Master Windu, Master Drallig. Master Koon and Master Gallia. Ali-Alann.

The whole Order.

And then I have Dex and Guerra Derida and many more friends across the Galaxy.

I have Satine.

Anakin has only me. I can’t imagine how the fear of being left alone in the world must be eating at him.

I will not let him go through what happened to me.

I will not fail him.

His fate will not be the same as mine.

*

In the end the choice wasn’t even a choice. Soresu it is.

My survival has just become of the utmost importance - not that it wasn’t before, of course, I like life well enough, but now is paramount.

A Jedi wields is lightsaber in defence, and in defending me I’m defending my Padawan as well.

Perhaps Soresu is the most Jedi-like form of all.

*

I spent so much time in the Training Halls I didn’t even realize I haven’t been writing for two weeks.

It was worth it.

Today my defeat was my triumph.

Predictably, Vos wiped the floor with me, but I managed to see the duel to its end without lashing out at my opponent. On second thought, I should have: he isn’t taking my commitment to Soresu seriously. He says I’m too flashy for it. I’ll show him flashy in a year, and that’s a promise. Oh, and don’t even get me started on his uncivilized innuendos - or, well, straight out crudities - on the Way of the Mynock.

Of course my form was appalling; I wasn’t defeated before the minute’s mark only because I threw in the mix a great deal of Shii-Cho and, to my utmost delight, some Ataru as well. There is much room for improvement, but I’m getting the feel of it.

I must say that Form III looks versatile. Perhaps I’ll manage turning it into something actually entertaining: I am not going to let my Padawan see lightsaber training as a boring endeavour. Soresu itself will have to adapt to our recreational needs.

I’m looking forward to teach Anakin all I know and all I will learn over the next years. I want him to see how much delight is to be found in the Force - and in sparring, of course.

Master Drallig is right: I sound vain and arrogant, but today I just can’t find it in myself to indulge in self-flagellation: it just feels so good to be able to spar again.

It feels good to be looking forward to something again.

[riisinaakka-draws]

It has only been a little over a year since I started watching the show and joined the Black Sails fandom. I posted my first fanart exactly one year ago and it was the one above. Thus far I have drawn over 100 of them. I tried different mediums and styles, both for practice and for capturing the essence of the things I wanted to share. Some of them are great, some are silly, some are a bit out of character or not so good in other ways and some ended up surprising me in many ways. All are nonetheless very precious to me.

Under the read more there's a list of all my doodles thus far. Most of them feature Flint, Silver or both of them (there will be more of the other characters in the future, no worries). I have to admit I laughed quite a lot while going through these again. This is a really long post.

This is a list to show what sort of things there are and also for my own amusement and archiving purposes. The list is in chronological order, from first to the latest.

I tried to make this as concise as possible, but the tag/navigation page is here if you want to find something specific or don’t want to go through all this:

- Flint takes care of Silver's leg in the darkness of the captain's cabin.

- Some quick doodles of Flint, ballpoint pen

- Sharkdate cuties (really scrappy doodles of Silver gazing at munching Flint)

- Progress. A continuation to previous pic. Silver holding a cup, covered in blood and looking affectionally at Flint. Here’s a giffed version.

- Silver and Flint go for a night walk in winter and Flint finds the streetlights amusing. Modern Au, beanies and the BS logo

- “See any treasures, Capt'n?” Billy to Flint who is looking at something “shiny” with his spyglass.

- What if Silver stole that certain ponytail and made it into "a rabbit's foot"? And what if Flint had a medallion with pictures of the Hamiltons and later a lock of dark curls... I returned to this idea several times after this, lol. (still secretly wishing that anyone would write a ficlet about this).

- Overload of Blackbeard - several doodles of different adaptations of BB

- Shark hunting. Flint has the shark on his lap and Silver stands in front of him. Composition inspired by that infamous Wolwerine and Nightcrawler cover.

- A gif of Blackbeard with flowers in his beard (I share a birthday with Ray Stevenson, that's why).

- a quick sketch of displeased Jack

- The Red Lollipop. Flint eating candy which is distracting to Silver, inspired by this awesome post (x). Silver steals the sweets and peels some potatoes. Bonus: Randall and Betsy the Cat.

- Draw me like one of your quatermasters... Flint doodles sleeping Silver in the Captain's log.

- Random sketches of Silver and Flint. Learning to draw their faces

- Flint with a horrible mustache and Silver with a long braided beard. (I should redraw this someday..)

- Flint takes Silver for a ride (modern Au with motorcycles). The Walrus gang follows "the flagship"

- Black Sails moomin AU, part I (I had so much fun with these).

The domestic modern beach au serie with 15+ doodles, various characters, inspired by this hilarious post (x). - Jack takes pictures of everything and Vane ends up buried in the sand - Silver puts some lotion on Flint (Billy tosses people up in the background) - Max and Anne Bonny enjoying each other's company - Rogers is going to get hit by a beach ball "accidentally". Anne, Max, Vane and Jack in the background - Ben Gunn shows his ship kite to Billy Bones - Vane and Flint swim butterfly. Silver (*.*) - Vane flips his hair like a merman, Eleanor is drinking and enjoying the view. - Mr Scott and Mr Gates enjoy their drinks at the bar while others fight in the water. Max and Eleanor gossip together. Anne and Jack hold hands like otters on swim rings. - Silver and Flint sleeping on the sun, Flint has a book on his face - The Ranger Crew swimming. Jack is slathered in sun lotion, Anne waits for him and Vane makes a joke. + Mysterious swimming trunks. - Silver is the sneakiest shit and likes to creep underwater and drag people down by their legs. - Silver and Flint eating ice cream + some early sketches in a gif - the Fucking Warship (minivan) rides to sunset, Vane is forgotten in the sand but do not worry...

- Silver and Flint sing the song "Dynamic Duet" from Starkids' Holy musical B@tman!

- Nooooooooo! Flint shaves his head, Silver doesn't take it well.

- Silver's character development. From little shit to actual scary fuck

- A HUG. (silverflint, done before s4. I really needed a hug)

- Bloodthirsty Bunny & Squinting Squirrel, (furries, i am so sorry)

- Flint brings water to Silver, a scene from the show. <3

- Sweetness of touch. Flint gets his hair/head touched by his loved ones.

The Walrus crew acquires some chicken. A lot of them. And a parrot. - Billy and Joji are tending them - people playing board games and ignoring the chickens - a coc- I mean a rooster between Silver's legs - Silver holding some chickens and Flint meeting "the Captain Flint"

- Flint gets his ginger crown back...sort of

Chickens, part II. Flint sends his regards. Teach has taken Anne and Jack to fishing and they get a surprise "gift" from the Walrus.

Fanart about Silverfin, a thrilling and unbeliavably funny (nsfw) silverflint fic by @jadedbirch and @zoinomiko (can’t tag u for some reason..).

Go read it :D I made some (sfw) fanart inspired by it (spoilers). - a comic of the tragic night - reunion and crowns (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)

- (a recap, not really a tutorial) about some of my messy work methods.

- Anne Bonny, without her hat, ready to kick your ass, season 3

- A portait of Max

- Every fashionable pirate captain needs a hat! Silver buys some silly pirate hats. Inspired by @vowel-in-thug​'s fic (part V, nsfw) and the CBeebies Bedtime Story etc.

- "Support". Silver and Flint approaching the Maroon camp.

- A portrait of Long John Silver on his way of becoming the legend

- Swords and time. James McGraw - Captain Flint. Sword placement comparison, gif experiments etc. (I really like this one)

- A canary. Flint finds a sad-looking caged bird aboard a merchant ship and then reads books to it in his cot. Inspired by @old-long-john​'s sweet and beautiful fic (x). Also thanks to @captain-flint​ for spotting the bird cage in s1.

Inktober 2016, 20+ doodles, various characters - Silver, a sad little face doodle - A bringer of death and destruction (Flint as an angel of sorts). Quick doodle with a brush - Silver and Flint. A little doodle with an ink-dipped cotton swap - "Hungry", Silver and Flint find the whale and prepare to hunt sharks. - "SAD?" NOT TODAY! There's always Silver Lining. Silly and shitty puns. - "Hidden", The treasure has been buried. - "LOST", Silver and Flint look for a bird on board the Walrus. - "ROCK", Ben Gunn and Billy Bones play rock-paper-scissors. (sorry, still no better doodle of them) - "BROKEN", Benjamin Hornigold misses his chair. - "Lock the door", Flint on the floor of his cabin when they were becalmed ;_; - "TRANSPORT", Anne Bonny takes Jack Rackham to safety on a horse. - Madi, a little sketch - "Dufresne admires his new tattoo" - "TREE", What difference does it make? Captain Naft shares his insight. Froom and Crisp agree. Morley and Randall (+ Betsy the Cat) are not impressed (for obvious reasons...). - "RELAX", A nice afternoon at the seaside with some of the brothel girls - A little sketch of John Silver again, because I cannot resist him. - "Flint has a meeting with Death". - "ESCAPE", Flint has retired and Silver still sails the seas. Occasionally he visits James and steals some of his baked goods (with some help from his crew and birdies). - "FLIGHT", a sketch of a parrot on a napkin - "SQUEEZE", Jack Rackham enjoying his bath - "LITTLE", a little sketch of Max and Anne kissing in little rain, under Anne's huge hat. - "Surprise", Charles Vane lurking in the water - "And then! You won't believe what the.." Hal Gates and Billy Bones spend their free afternoon gossiping and having fun - "Forget-me-not" / "one dozen", Miranda finds some familiar flowers and thinks about Thomas. - "BURN", Thomas, James and Miranda, just eyes. Inspired by the powermetal duet "Wish I Had An Angel"

- Oooh, What does my reflection shoooow ~. (Lovable) Little shit.

- Accidents with the spyglass. Flint acts like an asshole, Billy and Gates are having none of it, Silver is yet to learn.

- Death builds a raft and follows the Walrus.

- Portrait of Eleanor, the Merchant Queen of Nassau

- "long johns and puns". Silver is looking for a new pirate style and Billy offers to help.

- Black Sails Moomin AU - part II

- Silver at the wrecks, light and visual practise

- Eleanor Guthrie and James Flint, looking in / out. visual practise, parallels and contrasts

- My Heart Will Go On, but I'll keep your ponytail and get a parrot for my duets. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

- Muldoon's tattoo ;_;

Some of the following have season 4 spoilers:

- Eleanor does some embroidery (of bees and fuck-yous)

- How Silver gets his new crutch (Israel Hands is handy)

- Flint and the Wanderer above the sea of fog

- Flint's mouth saying FUCK infinitely, a gif experiment

- "That's my wee lad, Gimli." Berringer's locket and asshole Rogers.

- For a moment there was a Hat Trio. Teach, Jack and Anne

- Silver and Madi, canon kiss

- The Spare Ginger. Silver doesn't like Eleanor's plan. Madi and Israel Hands try to comfort him.

- Eleanor Guthrie, a green portrait

- Long John Silver must make a tough choice, while Flint enjoys his capture at Eleanor's expense

- All those extra spyglasses in 4.08. Maybe the answer was Israel Hands' hoarding.

- Fresh air on the balcony of the Walrus. (a drawing of the ship at night). There're celebrations on the deck, Flint and Silver have a private talk.

I find it endearing how this list ends with the balcony one. Like a parallel (ha!) to the first one, where Flint and Silver are having a private moment on board of a ship, although it is a different ship and at a different time. A year ago I had no idea where this all would lead me and how much I would learn and get to experience *pats my past-self in the back awkwardly and fondly*

Looking back at them (doodles) I feel both proud and slightly embarrassed of my enthusiasm. I have never done anything like this for any other fandom. I have never felt so much and had such an urge to engage in this sort of thing.

This show, its creators and crew, this fandom. Just something unbeliavable.  I cannot find the words to say how much I appreciate you all. The brilliancy, the humour, the love in all kinds of forms. I am so glad I stumbled on this show (it was a gif or a fanvid about ep 2.05 that made me aware of this show, btw. I cannot remember it clearly anymore and for a moment I thought Crossbones was a pilot for Black Sails and almost missed everything, but that's a story for another time...)

Know this: I have loved sharing this experience (the show, the fandom) with you and I appreciate everything you have given to me or shared with me. I will treasure this. (I apologize not thanking more people individually, but this post would’ve never reached its end otherwise).

*throws hearts and forehead kisses to the best and inspiring fandom and the greatest show that broke my heart and healed my soul so many times*

All the possibilities and love to you. Thank you <3

(This is not a goodbye, btw. There’s still so much more to come!) (◠‿◠✿)

P.S. All this started as doodles so that’s why I have kept using that word eventhough it doesn’t really apply to many of these anymore...