#if anyone HAS written this i would love to see it it’s been tormenting me (in a good way) for months

[un-pearable]

so.... has anyone actually reworked the pilots, s1, and the first half of s2 to make sense after the changes made in wrong place, wrong time. theres no way no one has, its too bonkers not to. at the end of the time travel episode lloyd no longer knows what the megaweapon is, implying it cancelled itself out. if so. what brought back the grundle and made him need to age up in the first place? not only do you need to somehow completely reshape the series to function without the core conceit of the entire show at that point, up to even how lloyd is deemed the green ninja, but the most immediate obvious problem is what would cause him to still need to age himself up in a world where garmadon couldn't just wish to bring the grundle back. my personal favorite option is a tea did it. i think mystake enjoys shenanigans enough to subsidize that. i can 100% see this woman hearing “i want to bring dinosaurs back to life” and going hell yeah that’s kickass

[heedeungism]

synopsis: riki knows you better than anyone else. includes: bridgerton au (barely), a little women reference, confessions of love, pre-marital kissing (the scandal!), gross old men, arranged marriage notes: @hoes4hoseok i hope you enjoy my timothee chalamification of riki, this one's for you girl🩷

there’s a thin line between love and friendship. your mother says she was friends with your father before she ever learned to love him, never in the way the poets rave, but in a way that made her life easier. in her words, “a love match is as rare as a diamond, dear. you shouldn’t hold out hope of one should it ruin your debut.”

it’s a shame, you think, that you can love someone so deeply and yet there’s no guarantee they’ll share the sentiment, nor a chance to see if what you feel is dwindling infatuation or true unyielding devotion. it’s improper to explore your options, greedy to want more than expected, and childish to yearn for love. yet you do.

your debut season approaches fast, and with it, the heavy promise of your hand to baron mortimer weighs your heart down like an anchor keeping you from daydreaming of the things you had read and researched about love.  he’s wealthy, titled, and twice your age. he would give your family a more comfortable life, save you from the shame of becoming a spinster if you do not find another suitable match your first season, and seems to be respectable enough despite his intent to marry you, a soon-to-be debutante he set his eyes upon years ago. it’s unnerving, but your mother speaks of him without disdain, so you keep your anxieties about his character at bay.

unfortunately, your dearest friend plagues your mind just so. riki’s return from oxford approaches with the same swiftness as your debut. you dread the idea of no longer having the liberty to write to him or paint him when he’s a willing muse, as it would be improper to do so while promised to another. for that reason you have yet to write to him since your last letter a week ago, where in it you bid him the gentlest farewell you could to help ease the ache in your heart.

you aren’t sure if he even received it, as he has not written back, but you suppose it’s for the best.

at least you believe that until he’s before you with unkempt hair and a haunted look in his tormented gaze. 

“tell me it is not true.” he says, chest rising and falling as if he had run from oxford to mayfair on foot, though perhaps he had been traveling by carriage since he received the letter clutched between his fingers. “tell me you are not marrying that man.”

you are unsure of how to respond, your lips parting hut no words leaving them. you turn toward your ladies maid, who blinks wildly as she receives the message, placing your hairpin down and hastening out of the room past the viscount’s son. the door clicks and yet his gaze remains unyielding, you finally speak, “you are back early, mr nishimura.”

riki had always been exceedingly easy to read, only to you, he used to pout. this moment is no different, and you can see how hard it is for him to wrap his head around his title leaving your lips instead of his name, but he recovers enough to repeat himself, “tell me.”

you place a hand on your stomach, squeezed by a corset that you suspect is why you can’t seem to catch your breath, “i will not lie to you.”

his brows furrow, his teeth peeking from his plump lips as they part in disgust and frustration, “he is old.”

“yes, i am aware of lord mortimer’s age.” you say with a similar frustration on your tongue that is heavily withheld by your propriety, “my mother saw it pertinent i educate myself before our marriage.”

“you cannot marry him.” riki says, and the frustration in your blood blooms into something more, something worse.

“that is not your decision to make.” you state, mindlessly flattening invisible wrinkles in your dress as he takes a step closer, only for you to fortify the distance with one of your own in the same direction, “not any more than it is mine.”

“you…” he loses his words as his hand clenches and releases at his side like he longs to reach for you, “you do not want this.”

“what i want does not matter to my parents anymore than it should to you,” you state, attempting to tuck the loose strand of hair that your ladies maid hadn’t the time to fit into your updo behind your ear, only for it to fall right back into place against your cheekbone, “lord mortimer is wealthy, he will give me a comfortable life.”

“do you not deserve a happy one?” riki asks, and you feel the cracks in your chest widen. instinctively, you fight the tremble of your chin and the tug in your brow as tears attempt to fit through the open crevice of your act.

“no, don’t—“ you shake your eyes, turning away from him as your arms drop to your sides, “don’t do that. i have accepted my future, i do not need you planting doubts in my mind.”

“what use would planting them do when i can see they’ve already taken root far before i arrived here?” you overlook the step he takes, nor how large his stride is. he only takes one yet it makes all the difference, as he feels infinitely closer than before. just as you feared he would.

“stop it.” you say, masked inside a heavy exhale, yet a plea all the same. “you should be visiting with your sisters, i’m sure they missed you dearly—“

“don’t marry him.” he says, and you finally look at him.

“what?” you ask despite knowing exactly what he said, you want to hear him say it again to make sure it wasn’t in your head.

he shakes his head, taking another step closer, “don’t marry him.”

“you…” he doesn't have to explain what he means, your childish hopes of love that you’d hidden so deep in your conscience do so for him. your heart sings as his eyes flick between your own and then down the bridge of your nose and lower, but your mind refuses to bend as your heart does. you shake your head, shuffling back to salvage whatever distance you can, “no.”

“yes.” he responds in kind, dropping the letter and closing the distance between the two of you to grab your hands. his next words are paired with the act of him flattening your palm against his chest, keeping it there while he grasps the other in his much larger hand, “you can’t marry him.”

“you are being cruel.” you try to pull away, but his grip is firm and you know that if you meet his gaze you won’t be able to fight it anymore.

there’s a sickening silence as his thumb draws shapes on the back of your hand, you can feel his heartbeat. it’s strong, and its pace only feeds your own heart wanton promises of devotion you had only ever been told were too rare to expect in your lifetime, “tell me you do not want me.”

the suddenness of his demand lowers your guard for just long enough for your heart to find the upper ground and force your eyes into his sights, he repeats himself, “tell me you do not want me and i will leave you to marry lord mortimer.” his words are punctuated by the hand not holding yours to his heart grasping the side of your jaw, his thumb moving against your warmed cheek, “tell me and i will never speak to you again, just as you requested in your letter. you will never have to see me and i won’t—“

“i don’t want that.” the words leave your lips without warning, but it’s too late to take them back by the time they reach his ears. you shake your head, “i don’t—i don’t want to marry, i want to paint and read and—“

he listens as your supposed acceptance crumbles beneath his gaze, chest heaving under your palm. “—i want to do all of those things with you, i do. the baron has my parents under his wretched thumb and i cannot bear it, i cannot—“ a sharp inhale rakes your body, a mix of a sob and a desperate but fruitless attempt to regain composure, “i don’t want you to go away, i want you to stay here with me and—“

his lips meet yours with a firmness that sets your heart aflame, and when he pulls away just enough to look at you your heart finally lands the finishing blow in its fight against your mind. your hand lingers on his chest as the one he uses to keep it there moves to mirror its counterpart on the other side of your jaw.

you barely glance down at his lips before they’re on yours again, a welcome experience that you hope you can experience over and over until you’re utterly familiar, but now you're not sure how to reciprocate. the novels you’ve read did little to educate you on the experience, much less prepare you for it to occur with the boy you’d found yourself longing for through the years. 

the gasp you let out when his hand moves from your jaw to your waist to tug you closer is silenced by his lips attaching themselves to yours like he’d spent a lifetime wishing to taste you.

he pulls away, yet he doesn't seem keen on keeping the distance, his nose brushing yours as he promises, “i will speak to your parents—”

the mention of them has your guts turning painfully enough to rip you away from him, nausea hitting you like a bullet through your throat, “i should not have done that.”

“i kissed you—“ his statement does little to quell your sickness, and the wavering grate in your voice as you interrupt him is telling of that. “that changes nothing.” your fingers move to your hair, the pin keeping it in place falling to the floor as you tug, “i am ruined. forget marrying the baron, i cannot marry anyone.”

“was i not clear?” he asks, and when you look at him with frustrated reluctance he continues, “should i gut myself? place my heart in your hands to have you understand how you haunt me?”

“we cannot marry.” you say, bottom lip trembling, “i will not be a consequence of your actions. it is not your duty to marry me when i am the only one ruined.”

riki’s jaw shifts as if your words brought him only fury, “i do not care for duty, i care for you.” 

“you are young, riki. you are not expected to marry for at least—“

“i want to.” he states firmly, “you said you wanted me to stay, so i am staying. i will dance with you at balls. i will send flowers and call on you every morning. i will promenade alongside you for as long as it takes. i…”

he moves towards you, thumbs brushing away the tears under your eyes as his forehead meets yours, “i am yours, do with me what you will.”

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[randomgods]

--downpour spoilers for anyone reading! i know you have a tag but just to be safe :3!! but you mentioned in your favs post that the only thing you'd change about saint's campaign was the ascension dialogue between moon and pebbles at the end and i think i do agree with you but i can't quite put my finger on what bothered me about it. i'd be curious to hear what fell flat for you and how you would change it if you had ideas? ps. ily and so good to rain rot concurrently with you

I have much to say about this!! Big spoilers for the ending of The Saint Campaign!!

Ok this may come off as a bit harsh but it’s only because I’m so passionate about these two and their story.

I think the reason why the dialogue in rubicon between Pebbles and Moon fell so flat is that it is so impersonal! I recognize that this is the moment that Pebbles and Moon both realize the solution to their entire purpose has been found, and thus it makes sense that they would be focused on it. But JEEZ! Are they not shocked to see each other in the same physical space for the first time? Are they not relieved that they’ve both been freed from the immense amount of physical and mental pain they’ve been in for millennia, eons even? Due to both of their states they haven’t even been able to contact each other in who knows how long. Where’s the EMOTION!

So much time and so much strife has passed through their lives that at this point in the story they’ve moved on from simply being computing machines. The iterators have full, human emotions. The tragedy of Rain World comes from how individual and human every iterator is. They are sentient beings trapped and tormented by their physical limits and their great task burdened to them by a society who abandoned them long ago. In this hardship they grew to know and love each other like real family. How could you not display that in the final moments of their existence? I find it so reductive of their characters to just make them soullessly monologue about the solution of ascension. It would mean so much more for their characters if they thought of each other first rather than focusing on the task their apathetic creators forced upon them. All their character development and agency is just gone in this scene.

There is also no distinction between Moon and Pebbles. We get none of their character. They’re just waxing poetic about the solution of ascension and the state of The Saint’s fate. It reads as if one monologue was written with no voice in mind and it was just broken up between the two.

I would have to think a while on how I would rewrite this part, maybe one day I will! Of course I would have them address that the solution to ascension has been found, but only after they actually emote over what’s happening to them. I would have them reconnect, celebrate, and grieve over all they’ve been through together.

Lol thats a lot, I am just so passionate about this story. The rest of Saint’s campaign really hit hard for me though. Especially finding Pebbles in the state he’s in.

[darkfire359]

What could have been: sympathizing with Ed in season 2

I've talked before about how much I love Ed and all his complexity. I've written more fanfic about him and Izzy than any other characters, in my entire history of fandom. And unlike many people, I wasn't unprepared for the dark direction his arc took in season 2; I wanted him to commit MORE atrocities, and I happily made comparisons between him and another one of my favorite characters, Hannibal Lector.

But one of the key things I wanted after he committed atrocities was for him to feel bad about it. And I thought we'd see that! After all, S1 Ed was so tormented about killing his dad (who was abusive and violent towards) him that he never killed (directly) again! He was so broken up about trying to kill Stede in s1e6 that he ended up crying in a bathtub. Just like he cried in the window sill after committing all the kraken horrors in s1e10. It seemed like this was a guy scared of his own inner darkness, convinced he was a monster, who would go around saying things like "I'm not a good person" and "You were always going to realize who I am."

And so even when s2 went darker than anyone expected—when he cut off more of Izzy's toes, and shot him in the leg, and made crewmen fight to the death for experiencing love, and sailed the entire ship into a storm to murder-suicide his crew—I was still ready to accept all that moral ambiguity and give him a hug afterwards. Because of course, I figured that after Ed was brought out of that dark place and those suicidal urges, he would feel horrible remorse. How could he not?

I was looking forward to seeing him break down crying, convinced he was an irredeemable, unforgivable monster. (Which of course, would make it all the more touching when people inevitably did forgive him, and when he did redeem himself). Maybe Ed would even go too far with trying to atone, like in Mercy, one of my favorite post-s1 fics. Probably, I figured, Ed's quest for redemption would be one of the main themes in the second half of season 2.

So it was strange to watch e4, when Ed looked nothing but annoyed at everyone for chaining him up and banishing him, and then he went to hang out with his old friends like he'd done nothing wrong. When after the crew unanimously voted him out, Stede brought him back to the ship literally that same evening, and Ed saw no problem with that. Okay... maybe he's still processing?

Then e5 came, and that episode was about Ed's redemption. Yay! Except... Ed didn't seem to care? Other people made him wear the bag and the bell. He asked how long it'd take people to get over it, guessing "like a day." He gave an influencer-esque non-apology to the crew. He said "I took a man's leg" rather than calling Izzy by name. He literally doesn't remember the circumstances of pushing Lucius off the boat. He does ultimately give a real apology to Fang—for tormenting him years ago, rather than anything from his actual kraken era. I love e5 for the Izzy+Stede dynamic, but watching Ed be an unrepentant asshole here is painful. There is nothing about this that convinces me Ed wouldn't slide right back to being evil if Stede were to leave again.

And the thing is, it didn't have to be like this! We could have gotten Ed breaking down crying with guilt like in s1e6, and it would have made him much more sympathetic—not to mention the fact that Ed really is just an adorable cryer. Alternatively, we could have had some real deep diving about why Ed never apologizes (is he afraid of seeming weak?) or why he's so uncaring about others' pain (has he seen too many friends die over the years, to the point of going numb?)

By episode 6, it seems like most characters have moved on. Stede says something about Ed turning poison into positivity, which feels completely unearned. He pays for the party—but he'd previously tried to make the crew throw their cut of the loot into the ocean. He makes some attempts to best Ned and protect Stede, but Stede ends up saving the crew instead—from a pirate who only showed up in the first place because Ed was intentionally trying to piss him off. Ed is sad that Stede kills someone, and this would be a great time to again make Ed sympathetic! To have him talk about how he doesn't want that for Stede, because his own violence has weighed on him so deeply. But nope.

E6 does see Ed actually apologize to Izzy—and he's terrible at it. He's just like, "Sorry about your leg," makes no eye contact, and flees immediately afterwards. We do see some hints that this shitty apology isn't really indicative of Ed's true feelings, given how he has those flashbacks to the scenes of hurting Izzy seemingly haunting him; but it's very brief. It would be a great time to address Ed's horrific tendency towards conflict-aversion and avoiding awkward conversations in relationships—the same tendency that made s1 Ed never inform Izzy that the plan to kill Stede and the Revenge crew had changed. This would be another great opportunity to help us sympathize with Ed again—to have us see how it's not that he doesn't want to communicate these things, it's that these conversations are terribly stressful and anxiety-inducing for him. But nah, why would OFMD need to include those things for Ed?

E7 happens, and still nothing. If anything, there was a great opportunity for Ed to at least show himself to be a kind person to Stede—maybe nobly stepping in to save the day, even though he's annoyed that Stede's getting all this attention now. You know, like Stede did for him back in s1e5, when the situation was reversed. But nope, Ed runs off to be a fisherman, not having learned any of the earlier season's lessons about whims. He only stops being a fisherman because he's bad at it.

I was still hoping for something big in e8–some huge selfless, gesture that Ed would do to cover for all of his inability to do the little gestures. Ed is good at grand gestures! Swimming back to the ship after he left, then taking the Act of Grace in s1 was HUGE. Very selfless, very sweet! He could have done something like that for Izzy, Lucius, and the traumatized crew. Some kind of heroic gesture to help others more than himself. But nope. In some sense, Izzy dying is one of the greatest indications of Ed's wasted potential, because we narratively had a great opportunity for Ed to be able to save someone... but he didn't.

(Admittedly, Ed is not a complete dick here—he helps Izzy when he's limping, he says some genuinely apologetic stuff when Izzy's dying, and he finally gives Izzy his attention and care. But then after the funeral, he's still like "Well, that's that.")

It's so frustrating. It's not that I don't want to like Ed, or that I don't want to sympathize with him. I really, REALLY do! I don't even need Ed to successfully do anything to earn forgiveness! I'd take Ed trying and failing. I'd take him wanting to try, but being so convinced of his monstrousness that he never makes the attempt. But give me something. Anything other than the unexamined apathy that he has so much of the time.

The thing is, s2 lost the ability for Ed's mistreatment of people to be just another "of course he's violent, he's a pirate" quirk. They were pretty explicit about how abusive Ed was (Jim's comment in e1, the joke in e4 people assumed Ed had hit Stede) and how much he traumatized people (Lucius and the whole crew very clearly have PTSD in episodes 4 and 5). This is serious stuff, which he did to other main characters, which is going to make a lot of viewers look at him pretty harshly.

And that's manageable—Hannibal Lector managed to be most textbook-abusive asshole in the world, committing atrocities and generally being unrepentant left and right, and viewers STILL found him lovable and sympathetic. You can do that! But you need to:

a. make it clear that anyone with the relevant information calls them out for being awful, even multiple episodes later

b. make it clear that they care deeply and genuinely about their wronged loved ones

c. make them willing to actually make REAL sacrifices

I watched so many people start to dislike or outright hate Ed in season 2. It made me really sad. But I couldn't blame them for feeling that way. For all that Ed is supposedly one of the two protagonists in OFMD—a character whose mistakes should be the most understandable, whose mental state should be the most resonant—the show seemed to entirely drop the ball on writing him as such.

[goodnitedrdead]

winter falls

Colonel Carrillo x Reader

Summary: winter blows again, and time has flown by. Colonel Carrillo never thought he'd be fearing the solitude that came with the season. Just as he thought he was about to fall apart, you rush in to keep him together. To help scare away the tormenting thoughts that were haunting him, you decided to take him out for a walk surrounded by the bright Christmas lights that adorned the local plaza.

Word Count: 5.8k (not bad for a girl with no talent)

Warnings: Carrillo lives. Slight/mild PTSD from the night Escobar shot him. Talks about divorce. Intrusive thoughts. Lonely holiday time. Talks about religion. Emotional infidelity, I guess? Lots of feelings. Fluff. Angst with an... okay ending?

Author's Note: don't let the kpop icon scare you, ok? pls be kind to me this is the second fic I've ever written, I'd really appreciate the feedback. ALSO, I am absolutely in love with the colonel. Inspiration for this came from the song Winter Falls by Stray Kids. I recommend looking up the lyric translation because I tried to include them through the fic, but it's not required. THANK YOU FOR READING!!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME. MWAH TO ALL THOSE WHO WILL READ THIS <3 also, i cross posted this on ao3 in case y'all would like to follow me there, I know sometimes Tumblr tends to be... mean.

IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS FOR THE COLONEL PLS SEND THEM MY WAY.

Colonel Carrillo didn’t fear many things. Hell, he didn’t even fear death itself. But recently, as the nights got longer and the temperatures started to drop, he started to know fear. The thing that embarrassed him the most was that it was an intangible fear. It wasn’t the bullets that flew left and right past him as he was in the streets of Colombia. It wasn’t the sicarios that etched the notorious Colonel’s name in their minds, hiding in the shadows waiting to pounce and take his life. It wasn’t the blood, nor the warzone he lived in day in and day out. No, it wasn’t any of that. Horacio Carrillo was afraid of desolation.

He thought he’d have more time to get used to it. As he awoke one day from being in a coma for who knows how long, he found his wife by his side. He felt a sense of relief, there was somebody there to greet him back to the realm of the living. There was someone who yearned for his existence. Someone that prayed for his return. Someone that needed him.

That feeling was short-lived as he woke one day and noticed she was gone. Divorce papers waiting on the table by his side, along with a long letter explaining her decision. 

Days, weeks, months passed as he went through numerous sessions of physical therapy. He felt a broken man. A once fearsome and lethal man… and now just a man trying to learn simple tasks like if he were a child.

When Escobar shot him, the news of Colonel Horacio Carrillo’s death spread like wildfire. However, thanks to Trujillo, one of the few survivors of the ambush that day, he was rushed to the hospital. Fortunately, the bullets had missed all the important parts of him. Of course there was damage, but little by little, thanks to the help of the doctors, nurses, therapists and everyone in between, the Colonel was able to make it. 

Oh how he wished he would’ve been left to die.

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He was raised a catholic man. His family never missed mass on Sundays, no matter how much anyone protested. He’ll admit, there were times when he hated it. He doubted the existence of God. He doubted the existence of la Virgen. He doubted the existence of any omnipotent presence because if anyone in this universe existed, men like Escobar would be brought to justice. 

As he laid on the cold concrete that day, he recited a prayer. A simple prayer, asking for forgiveness for his sins and whatnot. To be completely honest he didn’t even believe the words that he was saying. The overwhelming taste of blood in his mouth bothered him, and kept interrupting his prayer. Now, as the devil himself stood above him, he started to see his life flash before him. Once again, death itself didn’t scare him. He was ready to welcome it, in fact. Unfortunately he couldn’t even focus on that when someone else was occupying his mind. He felt a bit guilty, to be honest. He thought of his wife, Juliana. He thought of his children. He thought of the pain they’d have to endure because of his death. He thought of his mother. How his dear mother would grieve the death of his son. She would always voice her worries to him, but he always reassured her that nothing would ever happen to him. Until Escobar happened, then Horacio started to keep quiet. His reassurances to his whole family turned into nothing but silence. He kept thinking of his family, and he wished that was the extent of who he kept thinking.

That wasn’t the case.

You kept invading his mind like poison. In fact, that’s exactly how you slowly started to infiltrate his every thought. It was one of the biggest mistakes of his life, accepting you into the Search Bloc team. From the very first moment he laid eyes on you, he knew he had broken his sacred vows. He never did anything to you, he kept the relationship professional. Actually, he tried his best to avoid having any ties to you, but due to the nature of your job, it was almost impossible. No matter what he did, no matter where he turned, no matter where he went you always followed. It was as if a snake bit him, and little by little you started to take over every part of him. The poison coursed through his bloodstream, intoxicating him as it spread to every inch of his very being . 

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 The last few months leading up to his ‘death,’ he spent it at the office. It was during those months where Juliana started to doubt their marriage. Long hours away from home, the pressure and torment that rested upon Horacio’s shoulders, the way Escobar was draining him little by little started to affect Juliana. She didn’t know when this was going to come to an end. If there was even an end. What about when Escobar was caught? Who will follow? She will know no peace next to Horacio. Their children will know no peace next to their father. Not anymore. 

He’d once promised her it wouldn’t always be like this. But unfortunately, she knew that promise would not be fulfilled.

So when she received news that he was caught up in an ambush, she felt life escape her. She regretted ever thinking that. But, as the months passed and she was informed that her husband had made it after all, she felt a tightness in her chest. 

When she saw him there, almost lifeless, she begged God for forgiveness. She begged God for forgiveness for what she had in mind. It’s not that she didn’t love him, no that wasn’t the case at all. But she did not want to live in a constant state of fear. She did not want to get caught up in the war that followed him. So when he woke one day, she allowed herself a few days to feel out her emotions. But, seeing as how close he had come to dying, she came to a conclusion. She had to put herself first. She had to put her children first… and that’s what she did. She had no time to think as she placed the divorce papers on the table next to his bed. She reached into her purse, pulled out the letter that she hoped he’d read, and rested it on top of the papers that were about to end it all. Slowly, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. Disculpame, cariño. 

Now, as the nights got longer and the winds grew colder, he found himself in the position he feared the most. Horacio Carrillo was alone. 

The fact that it was nearing Christmas was worse. He always thought he’d have more time to get used to it. But it was one of those things that he shoved to the back of his mind as he tried to get himself back together. It caught up to him though, and now there was nothing he could do to make peace with solitude. 

The war had been won, to an extent. Escobar was dead. The Cali godfathers were a distant threat. Colombia was starting to get well acquainted with peace. The Americans were still infiltrating his life. That was starting to become the norm for him. 

He was definitely not sure why they had wanted him back. After he was discharged from the hospital and he was able to walk again and become a fraction of what he used to be, he was offered the same position. The same position, minus the physical aspect. Now, he had to hide behind his office and bark orders at men and wait for reports of how stakeouts and raids went. This isn’t how he wanted to live. 

It was starting to get late. The building was starting to empty out quickly as the weekend before Christmas arrived. Carrillo looked out his office to find you on your desk. Murphy sat atop the files you had laid out on the table, throwing a ball of paper into the air before catching it and repeating the same motions. You sat on your chair, a smile adorning your face as you talked about nonsense with Murphy, Peña, and Trujillo. Carrillo felt a ping of jealousy sting him. He wished he would have that same smile directed towards him. He wished that smile was reserved for him and him only. 

See, from the moment you joined the team you became a huge distraction for the Colonel. Your bright eyes, full of wonder and curiosity. Your smile, radiant as the sun and contagious to everyone around you. Your laugh, oh how your laugh was music to his ears. Your hair, the way it framed your beautiful face and left a haunting yet comforting trail of your scent as you walked past him. The way you were friendly with everyone around you and provided everyone that crossed your path with a sense of comfort. The unforgiving way you lit up any room you walked in to.

You were transferred to Colombia from Juarez. You had arrived at the same time, if not a bit after Agent Murphy. Unlike Steve and Javier, you were not a pain in his ass. Carrillo felt a tad bit of hostility towards the gringos, but never to you. Well, you weren’t really considered one to him. He’d come to learn that you were born and partly raised in Mexico, you became an American citizen when you were a teenager. He thought that must’ve been hard for you, leaving your home country and trading it for one that was so… hostile. Carrillo always thought America was like a wild bull, untamable and stubborn. That was one of the many things he’d come to admire about you: the way you’d easily adjust to the situation around you, no matter what it was.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Outside the church, you leaned on your forearms against the side of the car, aimlessly tracing the letters on the hood of the beat up police car. Steve leaned with his back against the bumper of the car while Peña and Carrillo questioned where Javier’s informant was. Helena, you recalled Javier sharing her name with the Colonel. You listened to their conversation in Spanish, and you assumed it was because they were trying to hide something from Steve and yourself.

You didn’t really care if they were trying to hide something. You understood every word they were saying, though they did not have a clue you were fluent in the language. Steve, however… 

You felt so bad for the poor man. A white man in a foreign country, with no concept or knowledge of the language, much less the culture. You felt the need to approach him and inform him of the conversation he was excluded from, but you stopped yourself when you heard the men start to question your presence. 

“¿y la chica?”  

“No, ella se queda con Murphy. Será mucho para ella,” you heard Javier say. Carrillo asked Javier about you, and Peña, most likely thinking you were some sort of fragile porcelain doll, told him you were to stay with Steve. Asshole, you thought to yourself. You looked at both of the men, and heard Javier say, “you two stay here and see if she comes back, okay?”

With that you saw as they both got onto a truck and left, leaving you and Murphy to stare at each other in confusion. 

Time passed and you two decided to get acquainted with one another. You learned Steve was born in Tennessee but grew up in West Virginia. He told you all about his career, how he ended up in Colombia, and the love of his life who waited for him back at the house. You smiled at the way he talked about her. You didn’t really believe in true love, but the way Steve was expressing himself about Connie? You might start to actually believe it. 

The church bells started to toll, and Steve let out a yawn. He excused himself for a moment before he walked to the driver’s side of the car. With a soft knock on the windshield, he approached the officer that sat at the wheel. 

“Any news on the radio?” Steve asked.

“¿Le digo?” The soldier asked his partner. 

“No. Acuérdese lo que dijo Carrillo,” The soldier replied to his partner, eyeing Steve cautiously. 

“Perdón, pero yo no hablo inglés,” The soldier on the driver seat told Steve. An apologetic smile on his face.

Steve sighed. With a frustrated huff he walked back next to you and leaned against the car.

“Nothing yet. Can’t believe they left us behind just like that,” Steve told you while he pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his jacket.

“There’s something they don't want us to know. Carrillo’s men clearly have instructions to not share any information with either of us. Might want to start questioning who we got as partners,” you told him.

As you lit the cigarette Steve offered you, you noticed how he looked at you confused. 

“What makes you say that?” He asked you.

You shrugged and exhaled the smoke from your cigarette slowly, “I understood what they were saying. One of Carrillo’s men said to remember what he’d told them. That sounds like they’re withholding their whereabouts.”

Steve let out a chuckle. “You know Spanish? How come you never said anything?”

You smirked and shrugged again, “Nobody ever asked. My superiors know, that’s what matters.”

“Remind me to keep you around me as a translator then,” Steve smiled at you.

“Oh honey, I am more than just a translator.”

And that’s how Steve learned about your past. Where you were born, where you came from, what got you to this place. From that moment on, you made an agreement with Murphy that you’d help him with the language. Maybe not with the teaching, but letting him know what those around him would say. 

So long as he didn’t tell Peña or Carrillo that you knew Spanish. You wanted to see how far this little game could go.

Carrillo’s men eventually called the both of you and took you to where Peña and the Colonel were. Steve got out of the car frustrated, immediately asking where Peña was. When you saw he stormed towards both men, you got out of the car. You gave a brief ‘thank you’ to the men that drove you there and tried to catch up with Steve. 

When you got there you heard Steve and Javier speaking about Helena. How she was and if she was gonna be okay. As you listened and looked between the both of them, you felt a strong pair of eyes on you. You shifted your gaze and found the Colonel looking at you. You weren’t gonna deny it, his stare was overwhelming. If he would’ve been any other man, or any other person you worked with, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. However, the fact that they both left you behind on purpose stirred frustration within you. 

You stared back at him, no intention of backing down from this silent challenge. You thought it might’ve been a meaningless action, but you hoped it got the message across. You weren’t going to give in. Not to him. Not to anybody. There was a reason you were sent down here, and you were here to stay as long as they needed you. 

Eventually Carrillo lowered his gaze. He’d never admit it but he felt small in your presence. Your gaze was soft. Stern, but somehow tender. And that’s what made him uncomfortable. You weren’t just looking at him. You were looking at him. Through him. That made him uncomfortable. That was the moment when he knew you weren’t just going to be another member of the team. And he’d start to regret laying his eyes on you, for it was going to be impossible to get you out of his mind. 

“You left me behind on purpose,” Murphy exclaimed to Javier. 

“Look, man–” Javier started to explain. More than likely it was gonna be some bullshit excuse as to why he abandoned you both.

“If we’re gonna be partners, I don’t get left behind. We don’t get left behind. We didn’t come all the way down here, Peña, to sit on the fucking sidelines.”

Javier looked at Steve and then to you. You gave him a simple nod, signifying that you completely agreed with your companion. You didn’t come here to waste your time. 

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

It was late. Nearing midnight. Yet, Colonel Carrillo sat still in his office. The soft ticking of the clock on the wall became louder each time. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to go home. He couldn’t even call it home anymore. The empty structure that held so many memories, so much warmth and love now turned into an unwelcoming and haunted place. The ghost of the memories he shared with his family. 

His mind started to betray him. He thought of the man he used to be. The collected, composed, and stoic Colonel Horacio Carrillo. Leader of the Search Bloc. Escobar’s nightmare.

Now? A broken man with broken dreams. 

He felt the walls he built around himself start to crack.

It’s not like he did it on purpose, as a military man it was more of a requirement. And he wasn’t always like this. 

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Keep it together, Horacio. He thought to himself. The rampage of his ongoing self-sabotaging thoughts were interrupted by a series of laughs that came from outside his office. He stood up and walked towards the door, he stopped in his tracks when he found you shoving Agent Peña away from you. The laughter that came out of you was angelical to him. 

Peña, Murphy, and Trujillo looked up at the Colonel, and immediately quieted down. At the sudden change in atmosphere, you turned and followed their gaze and found none other than the Colonel looking at all of you. 

“Carrillo, we were just going to go out for some drinks. Care to join us?” Asked Murphy. 

The Colonel politely declined the offer but wished them a good time. He saw as all three men walked away, waving their goodbyes to you. You turned to settle back into your chair and looked up at the Colonel. 

“You’re not going to join them?” He asked you curiously.

“No, I’m okay. Not really in the mood to join them. I spend enough time with them as it is,” you smiled at him.

He couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that engulfed him at seeing you smile directly at him. 

He nodded. 

“Shouldn’t you be going home, then?” He asked you once again.

You shook your head. Sure, it could be the weekend and all but you knew if you went home it’d just be a long episode of absolute boredom. Maybe you’d consider joining your friends for a drink.

“Very well then,” he said to you. With a small turn he went back into his office and sat on his chair.

Fuck. He thought. Had you really just smiled at him? He felt like an idiot. He felt like a teenage boy all over again when their crush would spare a glance at their direction.  Keep it together, Horacio. For fuck’s sake. 

He didn’t know long he stayed that way. His face burrowed in his hands. His elbows deeply planted on the surface of his desk. His tormenting thoughts were back. 

Good for nothing. You couldn't even take down Escobar, yourself. The whole nation calls you a hero but that’s not who you actually are. Murderer. Colonel Martinez is ten times better a man than you are, pendejo. You should've died that day. Trujillo should've left you to die--

His body gently started to shake as he remembered Pablo looming above his body. Darkness started to surround him. The agonizing piercing pain of the first bullet Pablo shot at his body. He remembers he didn’t even make a sound when the bullet entered him. He couldn’t give Escobar the satisfaction. 

A knock at his door snapped him out of it.

He looked up to find you, eyes full of concern for him. 

“Everything okay, Colonel?” you asked him. Your tone barely above a whisper. 

He stayed silent as he averted his eyes to his lap. He tried to breathe, but he felt as if he were frozen, under the ice. No matter how hard he hit the layer of ice he was trapped under, it wouldn’t break and he was about to drown. He tried taking another breath, but the oxygen wouldn’t reach his lungs. He slowly started to get pulled deeper and deeper into the depths of the unforgiving arctic, not knowing if he’d ever make it back.

He suddenly felt tears stain his cheeks. The cracks of the walls started to get bigger and bigger, and he knew he was at his breaking point. 

At the sight of the poor man before you, you rushed to his side. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what was acceptable to do. Surely your eyes were playing tricks with you. The rigid man you always knew was shattering before you. So you did what you’d never thought you’d ever do.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him. 

Every single moment after that kept coming as a surprise for you. 

You held him tightly as he sobbed in your arms. His body shook with every gasp he took. You’re not sure how you both ended up on the floor, but the fact of the matter was that he was still in your arms. You were awkwardly sitting with one leg tucked underneath you and the other extended to the side to accommodate the Colonel’s body into yours. You started to stroke his hair and run your fingers through it absentmindedly. Wondering what had brought him to this point. 

Whatever it was you wished you could take it all away. Truth be told you had developed feelings for the man that seemed to not have any. You loved the way he carried himself. Always so full of confidence. You particularly loved that he was such an ass. All because you knew he wasn’t really like that. It was all a show. You just knew there was a playful and gentle man behind the mask of what was Colonel Horacio Carrillo. You knew there was a man worth loving.

You also knew he was married before, so you kept your distance. Always tried keeping it professional. But you’d be a damn liar if you said you wouldn’t go out of your way to make sure the Colonel noticed you. Not in a cringe way, you were slightly younger than him, so you didn’t want to embarrass yourself. Plus, he was married. You weren’t about to become a home wrecker, but the feelings you developed for him weren’t harming anyone but yourself. You could live with that. 

You weren’t an idiot either. You’d sometimes notice the way his gaze would linger on you a little bit longer than other people. The way sometimes he’d use a softer tone with you. The way he’d, although very rarely, would give you the smallest of smiles. This would cause you to go home at the end of the night and smile to yourself like a teenage girl while you attempted to sleep. Maybe it was all in your head, but it made going to work worthwhile. 

As the Colonel slowly came back to his senses, he started to pull himself away from you. He gave you an apologetic look that shattered your heart. It’s okay, you wanted to tell him, I got you.

“I am sorry, agent. I do not know what came over me,” he said as he wiped his nose. Gosh, he felt so stupid. A broken man that was falling apart in the arms of the person who was not supposed to see this side of him.

“No se disculpe, coronel. No hay por qué pedir perdón,” you told him with the softest tone you could muster. You were saying the truth though, there was absolutely no reason for him to apologize. He had done nothing wrong.

Carrillo had once heard that people expressed their feelings better in a different language than their mother tongue. This was due to the fact another language served as a distraction from their actual feelings. So although you were both fluent in Spanish, he felt safer communicating with you in english. If he would’ve been within his five senses, he would’ve started questioning you about the language you replied to him in. 

Horacio took a deep breath and felt the oxygen reach his lungs this time. Your scent filled his system and he felt like he had broken through the ice that trapped him. His head was above the water now.

You both stayed sitting on the floor, at this point you decided to cross your legs and get into a more comfortable position across from him. He sat with his back against the drawers of his desk, his feet planted on the floor and his knees bent. He ran his hands up and down the expanse of his legs slowly, as if he were trying to comfort himself. 

“I am going to be honest with you, agent. I have not been well. I know there’s been… talk. About me, about what happened to me after Escobar, about my life,” he sighed and tried to think of the point he wanted to make, if there was even one. Truth be told, if you had already seen him cry, hell, what else could he lose by sharing a bit of what was on his mind. “My wife left me after I woke up from… the aftermath. I do not blame her, I hold no negative feelings towards her. But I have found myself in a position that I did not prepare for. The days get shorter and the nights get longer..”

You gave him a small nod to indicate that you were listening to him. Gosh, you could listen to him even if there were a million people around you talking all at once. Only him. 

“... Time has passed and everyone except me has changed. I–I am lonely to the point of pain,” he continued. His voice is slow and soft, but the unsteadiness in it was hard to miss.

You took in a deep breath and looked around you, trying to find the right words to say. Trying to find the perfect words for him, because you truly believed if this man asked you for the world right now, you’d find a way to get him the damn universe. 

“I can’t say I understand what you’re going through, Colonel–”

“Horacio,” he interrupted you, “please call me Horacio.”

You gave him a gentle smile before continuing, “Horacio. I can’t say I understand what you’re going through because I have never gone through that myself. However, I can understand your loneliness. But the thing is,” you threaded lightly, because you still didn’t know what was acceptable in this situation, “you don’t have to be. Look, I know it’s hard and all but you somewhat have a second family here. Agent Peña, Agent Murphy, your soldiers… me.”

Horacio Carrillo felt a jolt of electricity run through his body as you looked at him. Truly looked at him. Your own intense eyes focusing on his own. He felt you were a storm. A storm with the darkest of skies and the heaviest of rains that could somehow lullaby him into the most relaxing sleep of his life. 

“Did Martinez… was he a good leader?” he asked, tears once again threatening to fill his eyes.

You let out a soft laugh and looked at your legs. Was he questioning the leadership style of Colonel Martinez because he was… insecure? Was Colonel Horacio Carrillo, the daring leader everyone came to know, insecure? Was he really comparing himself to Martinez?

“Colonel Martinez was good. A very respectable man. But,” you looked back up to him and scooted a bit closer to him, “he wasn’t you. I don’t think there’s any man in the world that would be able to fill your shoes.” You weren’t referring to the previous Colonel’s leadership style. No, this was personal.

He scoffed softly and rolled his eyes. He didn’t mean to do this in a rude way, but he felt you were just saying this out of pity. 

“I am just a fraction of the man Hugo Martinez is,” he said coldly. 

“This isn’t about who’s a bigger or better man, Horacio. Sure, under Martinez’s leadership we were able to bring down Pablo. But at the end of the day, you were the one that haunted Escobar’s dreams. You led one of Colombia’s most important unit. Colonel Martinez continued what you started,” you grabbed his face in your hands and let your thumbs stroke his cheeks. The rough feeling of the stubble that was beginning to grow under your fingers. “Did you hear that? What you, Horacio Carrillo, started.”

“I did terrible things that he never even had to do,” he protested.

“We all did, my dear. But we all did what we had to do in order to survive.”

My dear. That alone blew away the brewing tempest that was forming his mind. He nodded in your hands and swallowed the tightness he felt in his throat.

You pulled your hands away from his face and stood up, extending one of your hands to him to pull him back to his feet. He wanted to chuckle at that. You, smaller than him in size, wanted to bring him back to his feet. He ended up taking your hand but didn’t put any of his weight on you as he rose to stand.

“Come with me. Let’s go think of something else,” you smiled brightly up at him. A full smile that reached your eyes and hinted at a bit of mischief that somehow put him at ease.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You had convinced him to climb in your car without saying where you were taking him. He didn’t mind though, he trusted you with his life. You’d been by his side during some of the most dangerous moments of his life, what would make him think you’d want to hurt him.

Nearing your destination, you instructed him to close his eyes. He obeyed without having to ask him twice. He was starting to come to the realization that he quite enjoyed following your commands. His mind started to wonder to more pleasant situations as you drove. How would it feel for you to give him simple domestic commands? For you to tell him to do the dishes… to let you cook in peace… to give you one more kiss before he left for work. He snapped out of it before his mind decided to wander off too far. He felt the car come to a complete stop and heard you change gears to park. 

“Keep them closed, okay?” you instructed him once again and he gave you a nod, the smallest hint of a smile starting to form on his face.

You got out of the driver’s seat and rushed to his side to open the door. You told him he could come out and held the door open for him as he undid his seatbelt and got out slowly. Once he was completely out of the car, you closed the door and took a deep breath.

“Alright, should I cover your eyes or guide you with my hands?” 

He raised an eyebrow and started to grow suspicious. What could you possibly be hiding from him? He wasn’t going to give up the chance to have close contact with you though, even if it was just the feeling of his hand in yours.

He didn’t reply, instead he just extended his hand out to you. You smiled to yourself at the motion, immediately reaching out to hold his hand before you started to walk forward at a careful pace so he wouldn’t trip.

Horacio had lived most, if not all, of his life in Colombia. The cold weather didn’t faze him, hell, he was in the military and they had to endure rigid temperatures as part of their training. However, today in particular was cold. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had unconsciously lowered his defenses while he was with you, but the cold was starting to get to him. Even with his jacket on, he still felt the chill in the air as you guided him through wherever it was you took him to. His mind going haywire between the stark difference of the crisp weather and your warm hand holding his. 

He heard the distant sound of children laughing, families calling out for their kids, conversations here and there, cars passing by. His suspicion grew by the second as he followed you, his eyes still closed when you came to a stop. 

“Okay Horacio, you can open your eyes now.”

At your command, he opened his eyes and looked around, his sight trying to adjust to the environment around him. You’d taken him to a local plaza, a tourist-y area adorned and decorated with Christmas lights on every surface. There were lights wrapped around the trunks of the trees, lights hanging from the branches that swayed with the wind, lights resting on top of some small and well-kept bushes, lights that paved the way to the different directions of the plaza. Colorful lights everywhere. 

“Ta-da!” you exclaimed, a bright smile on your face as you looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

He tried to take it all in, kept looking around before focusing on you. He saw the way you smiled at him, a hopeful expression in your eyes almost as if asking, do you like it?

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before taking a deep breath. He didn’t have time to think before he wrapped his arms around you this time, his lips resting against the soft skin of your forehead. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin. A million words he wanted to say but couldn’t. Thank you for not letting me fall apart. Thank you for not letting me drown. 

You closed your eyes as you returned the embrace. Wishing that, somehow, you could make him feel the love (that you’d been trying to bury deep down) through this simple act. Wishing that, maybe one day, you’d be able to tell him that if he were drowning you’d drain the whole ocean for him. Only for him.

[mootiemoose]

remus lupin fic rec list

i've been on a remus lupin bender since the beginning of the year and have read some rather fantastic moony centric fic in that time. thought i would compile them into a list - just in case anyone else was feeling similar. with love, mootie x

I'll be updating as I find more, i hope! if you can point any more my way, I would be more than happy to find some!

~Remus x Reader ~

A Bewitching Christmas by batkat (AO3)

Reader is a spy working for the Order, set during Order of the Phoenix. You get roped into spending Christmas with Sirius at Grimmuald place and bump into an old friend. All sorts of shenanigans ensue. I liked the feel of this story, it felt very homely. How all the characters interact, the relationships (especially between Sirius and the reader!) and how beautifully written this is makes you really feel like you're there!

Werewolves of London by 2049s (AO3)

This one is ongoing, but I'm enjoying it too much not to include it! This story follows the reader, a groundskeeper at Hogwarts and Dumbledores personal bodyguard, as she goes about life at Hogwarts. She watches from the side lines as her old friends son, Harry, grows up before her eyes. Until a certain DODA professor arrives, causing feelings and grief long put to rest to resurface. I love how original this is! Her relationships with all the characters are so real and 3D. I love how she signs and how expressive she is with her language. I can't wait to see where this goes next! X

~Remus x O/C~

Sky Above by stephie177 (Wattpadd)

Tamsin Weasley is the oldest of the Weasley siblings. She is the Astronomy professor at Hogwarts. It follows Tam through several years, starting when Sirius escapes from Azkaban right to Voldemorts return. Along the way she meets some interesting characters, and falls in love with a certain professor! Tam was such a interesting character to follow, and I just loved how mischievous she is!

The Marriage Law by theawrites (Wattpadd)

The TikTok famous, no war au fic, that most definitely lives up to the hype. The Ministry has passed a law for all young eligible wizards to marry, and given them all the name of their soulmate. The story follows Aurora Sullivan, a gifted young witch, who is matched with Remus Lupin. Which would all be fine and well, if they didn't despise each other. We follow them as they meet and try to plan their wedding, forge new friendships and try their best to get on given their circumstances. I loved this fic, how Remus is portrayed is so raw. Aurora is such a complex character, and to see her grow throughout the book was a privilege.

Wounded Souls Series by canarypuff (AO3)

The first book, Torment me more, follows Drea Mabry an apprentice healer on placement at Hogwarts Infirmary for a year.. We follow Drea as she makes mistakes in love and life accompanied by her ex boyfriend Charlie Weasley, wreaks havoc with her best friends Aisha and Nova, and butts heads with the new DODA Professor, Remus Lupin. The story ends on such a brutal cliff-hanger, that you need to find out what happens next!

Enter stage right, Against Reason, the second instalment in the series. I have never been so happy to see a sequel in my life! It's still ongoing, so I wont say too much other than, it takes place in the Order of the Phoenix, and Drea is called to join the Order by Dumbledore himself. Things aren't the same as they were before, but will they work things out? Or will everyone carve a different path? I can't wait to find out! I have loved this story, how canarypuff manages to capture every character so perfectly you would reckon magic is involved.

Moonlight series by Fellykins (AO3)

Forged by Moonlight is set during Michelle Derikson's Hogwarts days, where she makes friends (none to some as the Maruaders) and makes the quidditch team. She falls in love too, and by the end of the book has a brand new surname. The book ends at the finale of the first wizarding war, and all the grief that comes with it. The ending had me in pieces - you've been warned!

Into The Moonlight, the second in the ongoing series, starts off 10 years after the first ended with none other than Albus Dumbledore turning up on Michelle Lupin's doorstep with a job offer. She accepts, and starts her new job as Professor of Muggle Studies the same year as Harry Potter comes to Hogwarts. We follow Michelle as she settles in to her new position, and the subsequent joys and sorrows of teaching at a magical school. In her 3rd year of teaching a new DODA Professor causes quite a str for her and son Sebastian. But will it cause more harm than good? I am loving this series! How charming Remus is, how strong Michelle is. How well the series spins together new scenes and old. can't wait to see where it goes!

Remus and Iolanthe Series by SammysDove_CrowleysKitten (AO3)

An oldie, but a goodie. I remembered this fic from my last Remus Lupin binge, a good few years ago. Its an AU where Harry never went to live with the Dursleys but instead his Aunt Iolanthe, his Fathers younger sister, and her husband, Uncle Remus. It's a series of one shots and short fics compiled into a beautiful series. It follows Iolanthe and Remus as they survive life with a rambunctious nephew, a loveable but infuriating lodger, Sirius, and a job offer at Hogwarts. I love this story, for many reasons. Some of whom are doused in nostalgia, but mostly because I love the relationship between Remus and Iolanthe. I love how stubborn they both are, how caring they are. How much they care for their little family, and how they fight to protect it.

[duchi-nesten]

Right?

Summary:

After a talk with Jazz, Danny realizes that he maybe kinda procrastinated confessing his feelings for Tucker. Just a little bit.

He was waiting for the right moment, okay!

Wordcount: 4135 || AO3 Link

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My first phic for Phic Phight using the prompt by @hpwot !

Danny had wanted to tell Tucker that he had a crush on him the day of the accident. It never went away, but in all the chaos since that day, he's never been able to just say it out loud. A talk with Jazz helps, there's never going to be a right moment, he just has to do it.

Also first fic I have written in literal years, so I hope it’s alright! The plot has escaped me so many times it’s unreal lmAO

-

She knew.

Danny knew very well that Jazz knew. Of course she knew. She was always incredibly perceptive and caring. All she had to do was look at him to know something was up, reading his emotions like an open book. She was a very loving and overprotective sister and that is exactly why she just couldn’t keep her annoying nose out of his business.

She tried to corner him for a few weeks now, but he always managed to give her the slip. Sometimes even using his ghost powers to do so. Yet Jazz wasn’t known for simply giving up. No matter what he did, Danny knew that sooner or later he would be dragged into an impromptu pseudo therapy session with his sister.

He could at least try to prolong the inevitable though.

He was down in the lab on a Tuesday afternoon. His parents have finally had enough of waiting on him to start on his chores, so they threatened to ground him if he didn’t do it today. Not the worst thing they ever threatened him with, but still.

He was scrubbing on a very persistent ectoplasm stain when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Danny turned around just in time to see his sister descend the last steps into the lab.

Oh Ancients, here we go.

‘’What do you want, Jazz? I’m cleaning.’’ he stated flatly, turning back around to the stubborn piece of ectoplasm. Why was it not coming off? Maybe he should add more peroxide to the cleaning mixture?

He started making his way to the bucket and cleaning supplies laying on a counter in the corner of the lab, but was stopped when Jazz moved to stand in his way.

‘’When are you going to tell Tucker about your feelings?’’ she asked with a pointed look, arms crossed over her chest.

Ah, cutting straight to the chase. She was probably making sure to not give him any chance of running off again. Though it’s not like he would run off this time. He had to clean this god forsaken lab and she knew that. It was exactly why she came down to torment him right now when he couldn’t leave.

Only thing left to do was play dumb.

‘’Who’s Tucker?’’

Okay, not that dumb.

Judging by the flat stare he received from her, Jazz was not amused by that answer either. 

‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about.’’ he tried again and made a point to not look at her while he swiftly slipped by to get to his bucket. ‘’I don’t have any feelings. None at all. Ask mom and dad, they’ll agree.’’ 

‘’You’re not fooling anyone, little brother.’’ 

He knew that very well. He knew he was extremely obvious about it, Sam has already pointed it out to him on multiple occasions, thank you very much. 

That didn’t mean he would let Jazz meddle though.

‘’Just leave it Jazz, it’s none of your business.’’ he huffed and for a while the lab remained silent. He focused on adding more peroxide into his cleaning mixture instead and …oh great the bottle was empty. 

He looked around for something else he could use. There was a can of SpriteTM on dad’s working bench. If it’s carbonated would it bubble like peroxide? He needed something that bubbled right? 

Yeah, that sounded about right, it could work.

‘’You should tell him, you know.’’ Ah right, Jazz was still there.

He turned around, ready to tell her to get lost again, but stopped when he saw the look she was giving him. Her gaze was softer than before, a little smile on her face. Almost as if she knew something he didn’t. But behind that was also determination. She was tired of his bullshit and would not let him off the hook this time around.

He sighed loudly, throwing his head back in a dramatic fashion. He put the cleaning rag away knowing that he couldn’t avoid this conversation any longer.

‘’Yes I know.’’ he admitted, still slightly irritated. Taking off the cleaning gloves and throwing them on the counter, he fully faced his sister. ‘’I want to tell him. I’m going to. I’m just… waiting for the right moment.’’

‘’And how long have you been waiting now?’’ she asked raising one of her sharp eyebrows skeptically. 

‘’...Since… around the accident?’’ 

It wasn’t just around the accident. It was specifically on the day of the accident, but she didn’t need to know that. He was supposed to tell Tucker all about his little crush on exactly that day. He often wondered, if the portal didn’t decide to fry him, would he have confessed already? It was the plan after all. 

In his defense the accident complicated everything by a lot. Becoming half-ghost was a terrifying experience at first. Not even mentioning all the ghosts that started attacking the town shortly after. There was always something else to worry about.

So yeah he kinda procrastinated confessing his feelings. A little bit. Death does that to a mf.

‘’Danny! That was over a year ago!’’ 

Okay, he might have procrastinated slightly more than just a little bit. Sue him. 

Now it was Jazz’s turn to sigh loudly. She uncrossed her arms and moved to sit on one of the metal tables.

‘’There’s never going to be a right time you know.’’ she said beckoning him to sit beside her. 

‘’What?’’ he gruntled, begrudgingly following her lead. They were really going to talk about this while sitting on a table he might get dissected on one day. Joy.

‘’Tell me now’’ she started putting an arm on his shoulder. ‘’when you think of a right moment, what does it entail?’’

‘’What do you mean?’’ 

‘’What would you call a right moment?’’ she tried again.

He considered her question for a second. 

He’d definitely want them to be alone for this. It’s personal after all and he’d rather spare Sam from witnessing this. No matter how many times she said she can be there for him as mental support whenever he gets the guts to do it. (Which he did have, by the way.)

School was unquestionably out. Even when Sam wasn’t with them, there were still plenty of other students around. Not to mention Dash, who would not let him live this down. Besides it was school. Who does this stuff at school?

And their usual after school hang outs weren’t special enough. Like hell was he going to confess in a Nasty Burger. Or what? His stinky bedroom? 

The cinema? Well they did go to the cinema often, but they went there to watch the movies. And after the movie ended it was time to either have an excited geek out session over it or diss it entirely. No good time for deep conversations.

During fights was obviously also a big no-no. After the fights? They hated their existence after fights. (At least Danny did.) He also often got hurt during those and sometimes Tucker got to tend to his wounds and-

Yeah, after fights was not the right time.

‘’Can’t think of anything, little brother?’’ Jazz’s sudden soft giggles brought him out of his thoughts.

He focused on her. He was sure he looked like a lost puppy at that moment.

Whenever he thought of the right moment he always saw some abstract concept. Something along the lines of you’ll know when it happens. Tucker was important to him, he deserved the best god damn confession. A perfect one, like in those romantic movies they watched sometimes in secret.

But as crazy as his life may be, it wasn’t a movie. And now that he thought about this from the perspective of actual real life…

‘’No moment will ever feel right, Danny. I know you’re scared-’’ 

‘’I’m not scared.’’ he reacted on instinct.

‘’-but open communication is very important, not only in romantic relationships, but in platonic ones as well.’’ she stood up from the table to stand in front of him instead. Putting both of her hands on his shoulders, she continued;

‘’If you want your friendship with Tucker to be healthy you need to talk to him about your feelings. No matter if he feels the same way or not. You can’t put it off forever.’’

He wasn’t going to put it off forever. Only until the right moment. Which apparently might never exist.

‘’You just have to do it.’’ she shook him a bit for emphasis. 

Danny scrunched his face and looked away. He hated when she was right.

He did just have to do it.

-

He still wasn’t going to do this at school or the Nasty Burger though. He had some dignity.

It wasn’t until a few days later when a true occasion presented itself. 

It was a Saturday, he and Tucker decided to sneak some of his parents' inventions up to his room. Finally try to find some way of making them ignore his ecto-signature like they did with the specter deflector. It was way overdue at this point.

It would be very nice to not get attacked by his own parents for once. Plus Tucker looked cute while he worked. Danny almost got his fingers caught in the lock of one of the guns while staring at him with his tongue out in concentration. He always did that when focused hard on a task. Idiot.

Danny even had a thought to confess right at that moment, but they were actually doing something important. He couldn’t interrupt their work, right?

Yeah, exactly. He could tell him later.

With that in mind he continued unscrewing another metal plate from yet another device before handing it to Tucker, who worked his hacking magic.

They didn’t even notice that it got late, too invested in their work. The sun had long set when they sneaked the last of the updated equipment back into the lab.  Danny offered Tucker to just stay the night over if he’d like and after a quick call to his parents they were pulling out the inflatable mattress.

‘’I swear to god whoever lost our pump will pay for this.’’ Danny ranted before taking a deep breath and continuing to blow up the mattress. No one in this family has seen that god forsaken pump in years now. His parents always said they’re gonna buy a new one, but no one remembered to do that until the mattress was needed again. Which was always too late. 

Actually, how did his inventor parents not have a pump in the lab?

All this blowing was making him dizzy. He paused and took a look at the barely half blown mattress spread across his lap and the floor. This was going to take ages.

The fact that Tucker was laughing at his misery didn’t make it any better.

‘’Don’t faint on me dude.’’ he chuckled from his position on the bed. He was watching Danny struggle while scrolling on his phone and refused to help him whatsoever. ‘’You’ve got so pale in the past 5 minutes, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.’’ 

Danny would punch him if he didn’t think that his giggles were adorable. And also because he was wearing glasses. You don’t punch people with glasses. 

‘’Actually, why am I doing this?’’ he asked instead, raising the corpse of a mattress by its valve. ‘’It’s your bed for today.’’ 

‘’Because if you don’t provide me with a comfy place to sleep I’ll just steal yours.’’ he said that while cuddling up to Danny’s pillow like it belonged to him.  ‘’But here, I can help you stay awake.’’ with an evil grin he shoved his socked foot right in front of Danny’s nose.

‘’wHa- DUDE-’’ Danny yelled startled. It reeked so bad. ‘’Get it out of my face, do you want me to fully die?’’ he pushed the foot away but Tucker just moved it back in front of his face. While Danny was busy wrestling with his leg, he swiftly took off his other sock and threw it at him unexpectedly missing his head by an inch.

Nevermind the glasses. This was clearly a declaration of war.

Danny turned intangible to phase through the attacks. The moment Tucker realized what was going on he retreated, rolling off the bed from the other side.  He barely managed to escape before Danny threw himself on the bed sheets that Tucker was occupying just a second ago.

‘’CHEATER!’’ Tucker screeched while he scrambled to his feet. He ran to the desk chair and put it in between them like a shield. As if that could stop someone who can phase through solid matter.

Actually, in this house it was quite a safe assumption to have. Nevermind.

Danny was about to give chase, but stopped when out of the corner of his eye he spotted something laying on the bed.

‘’Oh no, would you look at that.’’ he said smugly, picking up Tucker’s beloved phone and showing it to him. ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’...No..’’ Tucker’s eyes widened at the sight of his poor little electronic device in the hands of enemy.

‘’Looks like your phone…’’ Danny teasingly turned the phone in his hand as if studying it.

‘’Danny...’’’

‘’Would be a shame if someone… hm I don’t know… posted something embarrassing onto your techno geek forums…’’ 

‘’You wouldn’t dare…’’ 

Danny just smirked at him and started unlocking the screen. Honestly Tucker did this to himself by letting Danny know what his passcode was. And by sticking his stinky sock into his face.

‘’NO.’’ 

Before he even managed to sneak a glance at Tucker’s unlocked phone he was being tackled by his best friend. He stretched the arm holding the phone out and used the other one to keep Tucker from reaching out. 

‘’Give it back!’’ 

‘’No, I don’t think so.’’ he laughed. He had half a mind to phase the phone into the wall, but before he got to do it Tucker jabbed him in the hips. Hard.

His grip on the phone faltered for a small second, but it was just enough for the other boy to steal it back. 

‘’HA! I WIN!’’ he threw his hands out in victory and started coddling his phone. ‘’Don’t worry my sweet child. I won’t let that menace touch you ever again.’’ He didn’t even notice that he was pretty much sitting on said menace’s lap. 

Danny did notice though. He felt his cheeks warm up while he stared up at his best friend.

Should he say it now? 

…

But they were having fun right now. He can’t do it while they’re having fun. What if Tucker didn’t feel like having a serious conversation right now? It was silly goofy time…

But it was always either silly goofy time or serious ghost related issue time…

So was this a right moment after all?

It didn’t feel quite right.

No moment will ever feel right, Danny. His sister’s annoying voice rang out in his head.

Right.

‘’Uh… Tuck-.’’ he tried, but no more words came out as his throat closed up. He could hear how his heart started beating faster. His core following right after by vibrating uncomfortably out of sync. A sudden and unexpected dread overcame him out of nowhere.

What the hell.

‘’Yeah?’’ Tucker looked down at him finally realizing what position they were in. He blushed as well and quickly moved to sit beside him instead. 

Danny barely noticed though. He still struggled with finding his voice, not understanding what was wrong.

Why couldn’t he just say it? He wanted to tell Tucker. He always planned on doing it. He wasn’t afraid to tell him about his feelings.

…right?

‘’Uh… Danny? You good man?’’ he heard him ask. His voice was filled with concern. Danny would feel bad for making him worry if he wasn’t busy trying to sort out his feelings.

Tucker was very important to him. That’s why he always waited for a perfect moment to confess. But he knew he could do it at any time. He wasn’t afraid to say it out loud. 

Or that’s what he thought at least.

He realized now that waiting felt like a shelter. He didn’t have to worry about Tucker’s reaction if he just waited for the right moment. He didn’t have to fret change or be anxious over losing what they had if he just waited instead of fessing up. 

Nothing would ever change if he put it off forever.

‘’You’re actually scaring me man.’’ 

Danny’s eyes focused back on Tucker. He was staring right back at him worriedly. 

‘’Yeah- uh.’’ he cleared his throat. He felt like he was about to throw up, but at least he could speak again. ‘’I just… realized something.’’ Danny said, slowly raising into a sitting position.

‘’Are you okay?’’

Danny looked at his best friend and for the first time wondered if there’s even a slight possibility that he likes him back. Sometimes it felt like he did, but he wasn’t so sure now. 

He never dared to think about it much. Maybe that’s what helped him keep his confidence for so long. He always knew they would be fine no matter what. They were best friends for goodness sake. Some silly feelings weren’t going to ruin that.

…

…Right?

…

Jazz was right. He was scared.

‘’Danny?’’

But she was also right when she said that he just needs to do it. He can’t hide it forever. It wouldn’t be fair to Tucker. Just say it out loud. Rip the bandaid off. Now or never.

Just look him in the eyes and say ‘’I like you.’’

…

Wait shit he actually said it out loud.

‘’What?’’

Danny quickly hid his face in his hands. Curse his impulsiveness. He didn't get to overthink it fully yet!

The room was quiet. It felt like neither of them were breathing. Which Danny probably actually wasn’t, since he didn’t need to. It was hard to tell when the silence slowly suffocated him.

He had to finish what he had started though. He was a big boy, he could do it.

After what felt like years, but was probably only a minute, Danny finally took a deep breath and lifted his head.

‘’I like you.’’ he repeated with a little more confidence. It took a lot to stop his voice from shaking. ‘’As in… you know.’’

He chanced glancing at Tucker’s face and saw his friend’s shocked expression. His mouth agape and eyes wide staring right back at him.

Danny looked away.

‘’What?’’ Tucker asked again softly, cocking his head to the side.

‘’It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way I just- I just needed to say it because well I-’’ he was interrupted before he could stutter any more.

‘’No. No no no. It's fine, I just….’’ a quick glance back at Tucker made it clear that he was unsure of what to say as well ‘’...You just surprised me, is all. Did you… realize this now or…?’’

‘’Pft. No.’’ he said like it was obvious. ‘’… I… I’ve- uhm it’s been like this for a while and I.. I wanted to tell you for a while too, but… turns out I was scared. And that’s what I realized now.’’ he explained lamely. 

‘’You realized you were scared to tell me…now?’’

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’And right after realizing you were scared… you went ahead and did it…?’’

‘’...Yeah..’’

‘’What.’’ Tucker laughed a little bit. ‘’You’re dumb.’’ 

Danny didn’t waste a second throwing a pillow at his face. ‘’You’re dumb.’’

Tucker laughed a little bit more, but Danny could hear a slight nervousness in his voice. They were quiet for another second, but it was only getting more awkward again.

He told him. It took all his courage (or more like impulse) to say it out loud and he did. What else was he supposed to do? This was not how he imagined it to go at all. He was supposed to be confident god damn it.

Tucker looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled. Great, Danny made him uncomfortable.

Good job, Fenton. You ruined it.

It was time for his favorite coping mechanism. Ignore it and pretend nothing happened. 

‘’Anyway… uh… gotta finish …with the mattress.’’ he started climbing out of bed, picking up the abandoned piece of vinyl monstrosity.

Tucker didn’t say anything. He just continued looking at him as Danny sat down on the floor, back turned to the bed, so he didn’t have to look at him.

It was another few minutes of silence. The only sound being Danny slowly blowing up the mattress and some small fidgets from Tucker.

Ancients, he shouldn’t have said anything. Should’ve just kept it to himself. And now Tucker had to spend an entire night here too. Should he offer him an escape? Offer to fly him home so he doesn’t have to be here and be awkward with Danny? Or would that be more awkward?

Really he should’ve at least waited until morning. No such thing as the right moment, screw you Jazz. He could think of at least 3 better moments than this.

‘’Danny?’’ Tucker said weakly. Danny flinched a little bit at the sound of his voice, but slowly turned around to face him.

‘’Yeah?’’ 

They once again stared at each other for a while. This time Tucker broke eye contact first.

‘’I-uhm… like you too…’’ 

…

What.

It was Danny’s turn to be shocked. He just continued staring. Blinking. Absolutely dumbfounded. 

‘’Oh. Uh… Cool.’’ he replied like an idiot.

Tucker nodded slowly, gaze still directed elsewhere.

‘’Yeah…uh… cool.’’ 

A pause.

Tucker picked on his fingernails.

Danny played with the valve of the mattress.

They heard a car drive past, right under the opened window outside. A muted explosion sounded from the lab.

The phone they were previously fighting over chimed with a new notification.

‘’God this is so awkward.’’ Tucker muttered, followed by another nervous laugh.

‘’I KNOOOW.’’ Danny whined, slamming his head face first onto the bed. He dropped the mattress to tug at his hair. 

‘’Why are we so awkward?’’ Tucker asked. Danny could hear him anxiously playing with the bedsheets now.

He lifted his head back up, putting his chin on the bed instead.

‘’I don’t know man.’’

It turned out he didn’t screw up after all. Apparently they both liked each other. 

He felt relief flooding him when his brain finally registered what this meant. His heart was still beating loudly in his chest, but at least the vibrations of his core became softer. Almost like a very quiet purring.

He liked him back. They liked each other back.

So why were they being so awkward about it? Both of them knew now how the other felt. It shouldn’t be awkward anymore.

But on the other hand both of them were also clueless nerds with little to no experience in dating, too shy and afraid to initiate anything.

At least they were afraid together.

Danny took a chance and very slowly reached his hand out to Tucker’s. The other boy flinched a bit when their shaky hands made contact, but instead of retreating he just awkwardly adjusted the position, so they were softly holding hands.

Danny smiled at Tucker and he smiled back. 

It was something new for them both, but they’ll be fine. They’ll figure this out at their own pace. Small steps and all.

Before Danny could voice his thoughts Tucker pulled on his hand and pushed his sock under his nose again, laughing maniacally. 

‘’EW TUCKER. Way to ruin the moment!’’ Danny yelled laughing and threw himself on the other boy.

‘’You were being too awkward!’’

‘’Says Mr. Confidence!’’

Yeah, they will definitely be just fine. 

They wrestled again. Maybe it was still a bit awkward. Maybe they were more aware of the other's movement or where and how they touched. But it was fine. Danny felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of his chest. And judging by the genuine smile on Tucker’s face the feeling was mutual.

When they got tired of playing around, they laid down on the bed and talked a bit more under the cover of darkness with Danny’s glow in the dark stars acting as a source of light. (They’ve had so many sleepovers at his house that even Tucker learned to ignore the big, bright FentonWorksTM sign casting neon light from the window by now. Only the stars mattered.)

They fell asleep like that, the god forsaken half-inflated mattress laying forgotten on the floor. 

And when they woke up the next morning, cuddled up to each other, everything finally felt right.

…

‘’Dude, is that you purring?’’ Tucker gave a half suppressed laugh. Danny only hit him with a pillow in response.

[notmeowse]

💜 this fic has huge spoilers for Astarion’s ending! 💜

Word Count: 1550-ish

Characters: Custom Tav, Astarion

A certain version of Astarion’s ending had me feeling some kind of way, and I wanted to get some practice writing his perspective before I leap into a full-blown fic. Shaking off the rust as I haven’t written much at all this summer!

Her gaze had come to torment him, of late. Every single fucking night, she was there; the firelight dancing across her soft features, the curve of her pursed lips, the trace of her jaw. Some internal debate warred inside her, that much was clear, and there could be no doubt it concerned him. Astarion was aware now, more than ever before, of the quickening of her heart when he spoke her name, or the blood that rushed to her cheeks when they met eyes. How transparent she seemed, so desperate for him, for his attention, for his love.

How he loved it.

How he reviled it.

He knew Anora would never turn for him, never take that final plunge into eternity. It just wasn’t who she was. Yet that question lingered in her brow, furrowed as ever, and her easy smiles no longer graced him with their presence: Would he still love her, and the years she had to give?

He truly didn’t know. The thought seemed only to pass through him, rather than take root; he could hardly cling to the idea before it was drowned out by the symphony of blood, pumping through oh so very many bodies. Practically begging to be drained. But more than anyone, he wanted her. Her presence, her blood, her soul. Disentangling those desires had proven… difficult, if not impossible. His preoccupation with her had taken something of a turn since his ascension; he was consumed, in no finer terms, with a need for her to be his. It was worse when she was so near him, as she was now; her heart leaped as she sauntered over to him, beating faster with each footstep. He could practically taste the copper, feel the warmth of it passing his lips. The thought alone brought a lazy smile to his face, and a tightness to his trousers.

“You’ve been distant.” He blinked, and her lovely face swam into his focus. Her heartbeat rang in his ears; it was practically slamming into her chest. Yes, he had anticipated this conversation, waited for her to come to him, begging to be changed. She would be his consort, his beloved, and he was more than ready to grant her such a generous wish. But her next words tumbled out before he could speak. “Ever since you… changed.”

“Have I? I hadn’t noticed… the world turns rather differently, now. A mere daydream feels like an age passed.” He waved a nonchalant hand at her. “I suppose I’ve been rather lost in the splendor of it all.”

And it was true. Disappointment colored her features in slow motion; a downturned gaze, the curl of her lip, the tightness in her brow. His awareness was instinctive now, razor-sharp. She could not hide from him, no one could. Thoughts of her robes blooming with red returned to him, the tender flesh of an exposed neck, mere inches from his waiting lips… her neck. Gods, he was free from vampiric thirst, but this? The desire to drain the life from her, to fully ruin her… it haunted him day and night. He wanted to make her his, to mark her as his own, in body and in soul. He wanted her to bend, to his will and his whim. He wanted her to stop fucking looking at him like that.

“Astarion, I…” she sighed.

What was this hesitation? He had waited somewhat impatiently for her to come to him — he wanted her to be at his side, wanted her to want to turn. But something was off in her features, that tightness in her brow, that set in her jaw.

“I don’t think I can be with you like this. The things you’ve said, your plans for us, together... It isn’t what I want. I’m sorry,” she said.

“What?” He blanched at that, his composure faltering for just a moment. But the mask returned to him quickly, instinctively — he wouldn’t let himself be weak, be affected by this. She would not see it.

“You’re different, you’re not you.” Her words were uncertain, her amber eyes wide. She didn’t want to do this; she loved him. Surely she loved him? She had remained at his side all this time, after all. And the things she had done…

“No, I’m better. I have everything I’ve ever wanted; my freedom, power, control, I can walk in the sun. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

She paused at this, her gaze faltering.

“I wanted to save you,” she said. He knew her thoughts lingered on those seven thousand souls, the legion of spawn she had sacrificed, all for him. He could see their reflection in her eyes, which held that same disgust for him that Sebastian had, mere moments before his death. So she regretted it, then. Regretted saving him, regretted giving him the sun. Something vile twisted in his heart, something that dared him to rip her throat out, here and now.

“And save me you did, darling. Your hands are as bloody as mine. Why play the innocent act now?”

“Don’t fucking throw that in my face, Astarion. I did it for you,” she said. “But now I’m scared that… you’re just turning into him.”

He laughed, a cold and mirthful sound, but her words stirred the rage and hatred that boiled inside him. How dare she say that to him? After everything they’d been through?

“And it seems the ‘real you’ has finally made an appearance, Anora. Who knew you were so hypocritical under that sweet, mewling facade?” He spat the words, mocking her kindness. Her foolishness. He would make her hurt, as she had done him; he wouldn’t take this shit from her, of all people.

“I thought you had at least learned something from our time together. I thought a sacrifice like that would mean something to you. How can it not matter to you, after everything?” Her voice cracked with emotion as she spoke, her eyes growing heavy with tears threatening to spill over. “How have you changed so much?”

“And what lesson should I have taken from this? They were all dead long before we stepped into those chambers, darling. And I’ve gotten everything I ever wanted, I’m exactly who I always wanted to be,” he said, reaching out to her absently. Some pathetic, simpering part of him longed to change her mind, to convince her to stay. To his surprise, she allowed him closer, taking his hand in both of hers, holding it to her like it needed to be safe, be protected. It nauseated him. He sighed, gazing at her through his lashes, putting on some of his best work, if only to convince her to stay. “Now, I have the power to give you everything, in return.”

She reached out with one hand, brushing it against his cheekbone. It seemed a lifetime ago that such tenderness would make him shiver, make him melt into her. How she had coerced him, as easily as he had done to her. It was marvelous, really, how artful she was at this game, even with far less practice.

“I... I miss the man you were. That sweet, uncertain boy who wanted to make a new life for himself. Astarion… I can’t bear the thought of you alone, in that horrible palace. Please listen to me. Please don’t go back.”

He was on her in a moment, gripping her arm with such force that she gasped, her lovely heart threatening to burst from her chest. She seemed frozen in surprise, for just that instant, one hand held to his face and the other held securely to her chest.

“I could make you my spawn right now,” he whispered, leaning into her, mere inches from her lips. “If I wanted to.”

He inhaled deeply, drinking in her scent, her fear. That alone was intoxicating, even dizzying. Something buried deep within him tightened at his own words, a muscle he hadn’t flexed in the days that had followed Cazador’s true death. Something that felt wrong.

“Don’t,” she breathed, her voice high and pleading at first, before she found that fire he so loved. Her next words were a threat, the kind she saved for those doomed to die at her hand. “Don’t make me kill you.”

“Only joking, darling,” he said, straightening himself and letting her go. She flinched as he did so, and he was reminded of the first night he’d come to her, the way her eyes had flitted open just before he sank his teeth into her neck. If he had killed her then, he would have never become this. But he also wouldn’t have had to deal with that hurt in her eyes, the way she held herself as she backed away from him. The ghost of her rested against his cheek, its warmth fading with each second. “And I won’t be alone. Soon the dark halls of my palace will be filled with my children, and all of this festering, pustulent city will be mine.”

“No,” Anora said, taking a long look at him. “No, Astarion. I don’t think you’ll have anything.”

She left him with those words, and for once he had nothing to say to her, no final word to get in. When she woke in the morning, she wouldn’t be his. She never would be again. Her warmth faded from the clearing as it had faded from him; slowly and then all at once.

[nemainofthewater]

Writing patterns

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern! Thanks for tagging me @thebansacredbanned!

Ok, so a two of my last ten posted fics are multimedia (posted for Ficinabox!) so I don't know if they'll work as a first line thing but let's try it anyway!

There was liquid on his face, dripping down his cheeks. [belied with false compare] Nirvana in Fire, Prince Yu centric timetravel fic

2. Xiao Se had been forced to endure innumerable torments in the past. [The Book of Swindles] Blood of Youth, Xiao Se/Wu Xin/Sikong Qianluo Mediocre thieves AU.

3. “We don’t need a cultivator,” Lao Han said, scowling. [always a rainy day] The Untamed, Lan Qiren/Wen Ruohan, amnesia AU

4.

Dear Professor Zhou,

It was wonderful to see you again at the New Frontiers for Genetics conference last week at B City, and I’m sorry that we weren’t able to talk longer. [Feedback for NFG Conference 2023] Guardian, outsider POV. I cheated here a little bit since it's in an email format and otherwise it wouldn't be a very indicative first sentence!

5. The Nimona Foundation has a wonderful opportunity for a Public Engagement and Outreach Manager to join us on a permanent basis. [Cover] Nimona, Ballister/Ambrosius post canon fic. I also cheated here a little bit with choosing the first line (otherwise it would have just been 'job description'!)

6. “This is getting embarrassing,” Di Huamin said. [Catch and Release] Original Work, Xianxia universe, Unorthodox cultivator & child who has chosen to adopt him (& his stressed guardian from an orthodox sect)

7. “You haven’t asked me yet,” Hua Jin said. [Best Laid Plans] Blood of Youth, Mu Chunfeng & Hua Jin, slice of life

8. The first time that Shen Wei met the new chief of the Special Investigations Division, it was very much by accident. [food without labor, shelter without confinement, and love without penalties] Guardian AU, Shen Wei's dubious courting habits

9. “I agree,” father says, and it is all that Qiren can do to keep his back straight and his hands relaxed. [laying the foundations] Lan Qiren/Cangse Sanren(/Wei Changze), alternate universe arranged marriage AU

10. "Third Master," Lao Hu says. [big shoes to fill] Blood of Youth, in which Mu Chunfeng attempts to get himself disqualified as heir and fails.

Ok, looking at the first lines I really do have a habit of starting with a snippet of dialogue! I never would have noticed that. I wonder whether it's something I've started doing recently, or whether it's like that all the way down (since a load of these fics were written very close together)...

Tagging: @tavina-writes (i bet you've already been tagged but oh well), @merinnan, @miss-ingno, @thawrecka, @cortue, @shadaras, @kimboo-york, @kasasagi-eye, @abluescarfonwaston, @therealvinelle and anyone else who wants to play!

[fizziepopangel]

A Fizziepop Take: Let's talk about the (soon to be) ex-wife from hell

I’m not sure about everyone, but I personally have always loved villains and morally gray characters. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a lot of fucked up situations where no one was every really the “good guy”, not even the people I loved and trusted…. So I learned early on that bad guys aren’t always bad and even when they are, being bad isn’t always as bad as it seemed to be made out by everything on tv and in books. Having this way of thinking from a young age, it’s no surprise that some of my favorite characters in books and movies tend to be the villains. Now, as much as I love Stolas (and want his relationship with Blitz to work), I’ve kinda into Stella on this ‘I want my husband dead’ trip, and after watching “Western Energy” a few times, I think I figured out why and I can’t be the only one who feels like this, so let’s get into it!.

If you know how most villains are written and portrayed, a lot of them have some sort of reason for doing whatever fucked up thing they're doing. Sometimes the excuse is a tragic backstory, or an unrequited love, or a fear that they just don’t seem to deal with very well, or to gain power over another being/beings or even keep power they already have, in some cases mental illness is even villainized in the media (which sucks since it’s not always portrayed in a realistic manner when it’s used as a reason for someone being "villainous" and ends up stigmatizing an entire group of people who suffer from the illness in ways that aren’t dramatized for the entertainment of the masses.).... But all of these reasons tend to be on the list of the reasons the villain, and the audience, try to justify whatever messed up shit they’re doing…. But here’s the thing, sometimes a person doesn’t have a reason to be an absolute fucked up beyond repair, horrible person, they just like being that way. That’s what we see with Stella.

See, Stella doesn’t have a horrible tragic past to blame her cruelty on. Stolas never abused her, if anything he did his best to try to make their marriage work despite the abuse she put him through for what seems to be the entirety of their relationship. And it seems she’s never even had to smell poverty or what fear would smell like when it’s her own. As of right now, there is no reason for her cruelty that we can see except for pure enjoyment, with her even at one point telling Stolas "I like tormenting you!" when asked why she's still in his house despite having moved out pretty much completely at that point. She enjoys making Stolas’ life miserable and she hates the man enough that she tells her brother that she’d laugh when he dies and even has to be convinced to keep him alive to figure out how to get money from him since she’d likely get nothing when he dies. The woman has no regard for anyone’s life but hers unless she’s making someone else feel beyond miserable.... And, as much as I love Stolas, I love the cruelty Stella processes and how she seems to aim it all toward him, especially because she doesn’t in anyway try to hide the fact that she’s an evil bitch and she doesn't even try to. Whether she’s telling her husband that she likes making him miserable or badmouthing him to friends and family with him standing a few feet away, or even giddily admitting to her brother that she’s hired the assassin that kidnapped and off her husband, the woman has zero shame and as easy as it is to dislike her for actively hurting a fan favorite character, the sheer size of Stella’s metaphorical balls makes me love her. Despite being a ditzy, bitchy ex-wife and a bad mother from what most of us believe, and her literally torturing one of my favorite characters for sheer pleasure, Stella has earned a spot as one of my favorite villains, and moved up in the ranking of my favorite Helluva Boss antagonists. 

The woman is a horrible, cold hearted, monster on the levels she’s been placed on within the show and it's literally shown that it's been that way since she was a child…. And I think that’s what makes her such a good character despite her being written very flatly otherwise. Viv made Stella a character that’s so easy to love to hate, which is something I believe every show needs. I think that’s awesome considering so many people still think that a villain needs to be made; forged in tragedy, warped by trauma, and bathed in fear and heartbreak when in reality, cruelty isn’t always something people are gifted through bad experiences. As much as we hate to admit it, some people just enjoy the way cruelty tastes and hate the way happiness looks on someone who isn’t them. Stella is a wonderful example of a villain who chose to be the way they are just because they find amusement in it. Nothing else. And call me crazy, but I love that for her and I want to see more scenes like in “Western Energy” where you can see that she knows what she’s doing isn’t just cruel, but villainous and she enjoys it. But like every post I make ranting and over analyzing the fictional world of imps and hellhounds and all of this, this is just a Fizzie take on things I probably spend too much time thinking about. But let me know what you think about Stella, and villains in general. It’s always a topic I’m down to see different perspectives and opinions on.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Historical romance with doggy style, please 🙈

Lol I got you. I love a good doggy scene in a sweeping beautiful love story lmao. I feel like doggy style is often written on the page (and onscreen) as being like... less connected or whatever, but I don't know, I think we need more of it, fictionally and probably societally.

(Not all of these are true blue doggy, I shall specify when I can remember)

It Happened One Autumn by Lisa Kleypas--I think technically it's a "stomach to the mattress" moment versus true hands and knees doggy, but Lisa's big twist to sex scenes is usually the hero flipping the heroine onto her stomach lol. I really like this one because it feels very true to Westcliff and Lillian's dynamic. Specifically, "and you called ME a savage".

Dreaming of You by Lisa Kleypas--Obviously Derek Craven fucks Sara from behind idk why anyone would think otherwise

Any Duchess Will Do by Tessa Dare--The famous "fuck her over the desk while making her say his courtesy titles" scene. It's GREAT.

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden--Another "fuck her over a desk" scene, albeit of the more "emotionally tormented" variety.

Any Duke in a Storm by Amalie Howard out 1/9--This has a doggy scene and I think additionally face sitting, and so much fun great stuff. I think at one point he comes grinding against her ass. Which we need to see more of in romance, tbh.

The Duke's Perfect Wife by Jennifer Ashley--Pretty sure this has doggy with light bondage.

The Duchess Deal by Tessa Dare--It's been foreeever but I'm pretty sure this has it.

Joss and The Countess by S.M. LaViolette--Not only does it have this, but it has this and it is SO. FUCKING. HOT. Like this is a ridiculously hot book, I don't think I give it enough credit. I think he spanks her during? Not sure. More of that in historicals please.

Olivia and The Masked Duke by Grace Callaway--Pretty sure this has it. As does Fiona and the Enigmatic Earl. I mean, most Callaways. Grace writes REALLY good sex scenes, y'all, and is also one of the only historical romance writers I've read who has butt stuff in a lot of her books.

Something Spectacular by Alexis Hall--Has doggy with pegging :)

The Recruit by Monica McCarty--The heroine definitely sees him fucking someone else doggy style in the beginning (that said, it's all about him and the heroine... He doesn't come until they make eye contact and she's suuuuper into it). Pretty sure they also do it later due to... changes in her physique.

The Chief by Monica McCarty--The hero being really into fucking her from behind is literally a plot point lol

The Wolf and The Wallflower by Stacy Reid--I mean. He literally operates like a wolf. Fuck yeah he does it doggy

Never Met a Duke Like You by Amalie Howard--Bends her over in front of a dinosaur skeleton, iN PUBLIC no less

The Duke in Question by Amalie Howard--Heroine loses her virginity bent over against a tree

When a Girl Loves an Earl by Elisa Braden--The "PUT YER FILTHY SCOT INSIDE YE" scene (I have absolutely zero ragrets re: my love of it)

Scandal's Bride by Stephanie Laurens--Laurens heroes often LOVE hitting it from the back. But I don't know if I've yet read any that are quite as committed to it as Richard, who fucks Catriona like 72 times in this novel, with many of those times being when he has her on her hands and knees or otherwise bent over.

A Rake's Vow by Stephanie Laurens--Pretty sure this happens or a variation of it at least when Patience follows Vane into the solarium to confront him about him seeing another woman, to which he goes "that's my niece actually" while locking the doors, and when she's all "why are you locking the doors" he's like "IT'S A SOLARIUM" because all Cynster heroes know they're in a romance novel

[fabeong]

My Dear Revyn - a letter goodbye(?)

Apparently 2am is the perfect time for my OC Ryesandeii and his hopeless crush on Revyn Sadri to take up space in my brain.

Enjoy this angsty letter, likely written right before Ryesandeii accepted Odahviing's offer of help to reach Alduin, knowing full well he might not return from the confrontation...

Quick shout-out and thank you here to the lovely @thana-topsy, @argisthebulwark, and @nejackdaw, all of whom are joys to see on my dashboard and whose writings are my current inspirations!

***

My dear Revyn,

I hope I am not overstepping with such an address. Over the past months you have been a source of unending joy and warm companionship for me, and not a single journey to Windhelm has been bearable let alone complete without a visit to you.

It would be at the very least rude, and at worst unforgivable, if I did not write to warn you therefore that you may not see me for a while. Or perhaps ever again.

I have spoken little of my apparent destiny as Dragonborn, or even of the effect it has had upon my already tumultuous life. Please do not think this to be a reflection of any distrust in yourself, but rather I have up until now done a shameful amount to avoid this calling and the responsibilities it brings out of little else but sheer cowardice. Perhaps there is some logic in wishing to avoid a fate that demands I face the dragon known best as ‘World-Eater’, and yet I can no longer pretend such foibles justify allowing Skyrim and all those who dwell here to suffer a worse fate than I witnessed levelled on Helgen, so long ago now.

And so I am preparing myself to face this World-Eater. If all goes well he shall never return. Whether I shall is unclear to me. But I have run from my past and my fears for too long, and if there is even the slightest of chance that I may prevent the world from meeting a terrible end then even my meagre effort must suffice.

I hope once more that I do not overstep here, and if it is so then I beg you to cast this letter into the fire and speak no more of it. But I confess the thought of saving you above all served as a final throw of the dice that has committed me to my destined cause, because if whatever sacrifice my pitiful life provides can ensure you live in a world free from endless torment and tyranny then I shall consider it worthy. I have long considered you a dear and close friend, Revyn, and were I a braver mer I would have confessed to feelings beyond friendship. I would confess how I have searched every ruin or forgotten treasure for something that could compare to even half of your beauty, only to come up with nothing capable of it. I would confess how it has long been you that brought me back to Windhelm time and time again, diverting through that bitter cold and cobbled paths to bring you whatever spoils have come my way and indulge in your company. Truly, you are a ray of the brightest sunlight and most comforting warmth in a city with dire need of such goodness.

I can do little more but apologise for my persistent cowardice, if no longer in an apparent heroic destiny than in relationships, that I never could summon these word whilst with you. If they are not something you could accept from me then I once more implore you to cast them aside guiltlessly, and will only beg that you remember me kindly. And if somehow I do return then I promise I shall return to you, and show you the decency of hearing your reply in person.

My friend Karhjo, whom you have seen with me many a time, will return to the caravan and family he travelled with before our paths crossed. I have tasked Meeko to stay with him too, but you know as well as I by now how wilful and of independent spirit that lovable mutt is, and so who among us knows where he may roam? What little else I have remains with Winterhold.

I have not prayed in a while to anyone other than Arkay. I hope he is listening, along with every other Divine and Daedra as I pray for your health, for your family, and above all for the joy you shared so generously with one who deserved it the least.

I remain in life, death, or anywhere in-between, faithfully yours.

Ryesandeii.

***

And no, I'm not sure at which point I decided Ryesandeii's writing style is that of a Regency noble on his deathbed.

[iamthecomet]

I have some ghoulette crochet headcanons for you that have been tormenting me for a while now (in the best way possible)

(Also this is pre Aurora and Aeon, so not leaving her out)

Just read and reply when you feel better/whenever you feel like it!

What if Cumulus loves to crochet?

I recently started crocheting a top for myself and I had SEVERELY underestimated my cup size and got so very frustrated at some point.

So what if Cumulus only crochets for Cirrus and Sunshine, because she gets way to frustrated making pieces for herself because it takes longer? (For her it feels like it takes “fucking ages“?)

And Sunshine notices that after a while, and decides that she wants to crochet something for her. Because she too deserves those nice pieces of clothing. Because she‘s worth putting the time and effort into, even if she herself seems to not think so.

But the problem is, she doesn’t know how to do it. She never crocheted before.

And also, probably due to her ADHD, she gets soo frustrated by every YouTube tutorial she‘s trying to watch. At some point she just stared skipping videos, hoping for someone to get to the point immediately and explain it as quickly as possible, but she just can‘t find a good video.

She‘s sitting in Cirrus‘ room (the one she shares with Cumulus who seems to be occupied by something, probably Dewdrop) and just hides her face behind her knees and starts to cry quietly because she’s so damn frustrated.

Like, she wants to do something nice for Cumulus. Looked up how much she would need and then got beautiful light blue yarn and a fitting hook (the lady in the store had been so nice explaining the sizes to her). But now she’s getting frustrated over not knowing how to crochet and YouTube videos being too slow and annoying.

Cirrus finds her like this, and after a bit of coaxing, she tells her everything. About her plan, about how she’s getting annoyed now and how she wishes she could just ask Cumulus go teach her but how it wouldn’t be a real surprise then.

And Cirrus tells her that they actually learned it together, and while she hasn’t done it in quite a while, she should be able to remember how to do it if she just tries it for a few minutes.

It takes about 5 minutes of the air ghoulette fiddling with the yarn before she feels like she knows what she‘s doing again.

So she explains it to Sunshine, and then shows her everything.

Cirrus feels bad for not thinking of it herself. But she also figures that being mad at herself isn’t going to help at all, so she quickly tries to get over it and tries to be as helpful as possible.

She turns about to be a fantastic help by knowing what clothes fit Cumulus just the right side of tight, so Sunny will know which size to make it exactly.

(And, Cirrus has Cumulus‘ measurements written down, because she simply loves gifting lingerie to her absolute goddess of a girlfriend (she’ll fight anyone telling her that they‘re all a pack and don‘t need to call each other such names, because she loves calling her dear Cumulus her girlfriend. ))

It only takes a few days to make because Cirrus encourages (forces) Sunny to take breaks whenever her hands hurt too much. And also, sometimes it‘s hard to work on something one of the ghoulettes in who’s room she live isn’t allowed to see (even tho the other ghoulette is helping her hide it)

At the end of it, Sunshine holds a beautiful light blue top in her hands that is just the right side of soft.

She puts it in a cute little box and gives it to her while she’s sitting on the common room couch and Cirrus covers her eyes. Then she lets go and Cumulus opens it. She opens it and lifts the top up, immediately praising the color and style.

“Where did you get this?“

“I made it. For you. Because I think you’re worth the time and effort put into crochet pieces. Because you put that effort into pieces for us, but not for you.“

“Sunny- I- thank you“

She holds her arms open and immediately Sunshine crashes into her, pushes herself onto Cumulus‘ lap and kisses her.

After a bit, Lus pauses to ask her something.

“Did you know how to crochet or-“

“I learned it for you. Cirrus helped.“

Cumulus looks over at her mate and she smiles softly. “Come, now go put that on, I’m dying to see you in it!“ she encourages, and she can’t help but agree.

When Cumulus returns to the common room, even the other ghouls in it are stunned to silence.

It hugs her breasts so incredibly nicely and doesn‘t even quite cover her ribcage. Also, Sunny was right about the live contrast.

She looks GORGEOUS in it.

And I believe that Cumulus cried a little during all of this. Whether it was of happiness or overwhelmingly strong emotions of deep love and caring for her ghoulettes, nobody will ever know.

(Yeah, well. I thought writing down my headcanons would be way quicker and shorter than writing a fic xD)

(Also, I’m very tempted to draw Cumulus wearing the top)

- @owlishanon

ASDFJAKSDF My brain is alive again this morning (temporarily I suspect, but I'm not going to question it) so I can finally respond to this as it DESERVES. (Which is honestly, mostly just incoherant screaming and crying because it's so fucking cute and sweet and I LOVE THEM and WOMEN). I'm thinking about how Sunshine bought the yarn. She couldn't go with Cumulus, obviously. Most likely, it happened during free time on tour. Wandering around a city, only hours after suddenly deciding she needed to make Cumulus a top too. She's googling yarn shops, trying to ditch Cumulus and Cirrus while she makes her way there. She definitely drags one of the ghouls along with her, makes up an excuse about why Cumulus doesn't need to come along, and then spends way too long staring at all the different yarns, touching them. Making Dew (we all know it's Dew she drags with her) touch them and tell her which ones he thinks Lus would like best. And then after the lady helps her pick out the right hook, and she gets it back to the bus she shoves it deep into her luggage. She wants to start right now. But she can't risk Cumulus catching her trying to learn crochet online, so she squirrels it away. Waits until they get home. I'm obsessed with Sunshine's determination. That she knows even though it's hard she's got to figure it out. That she has to do this for Cumulus because she deserves it and someone should take care of her for once, god dammit. And of course Cumulus cries. Quietly at first until Sunshine snuggles up to her and then she sobs just a little, looking at Sunshine through tear blurry eyes. Speechless over the idea that someone took all of this time just to make something for her. Sunshine didn't know a single thing about crochet, but now she does all because of Cumulus. Because she thought Cumulus deserved to feel as pretty as she and Cirrus did every time she made them something. And now, when she goes yarn shopping, Sunshine goes with her and makes Cumulus pick out some yarn for herself so that Sunshine can make her more things. Because Cumulus might not have the patience to make things for herself, but Sunshine can't get enough of making clothes for her Lus.

[aella-targaryen]

Don’t get my wrong, I love Matt…but these last two episodes, Daemon’s entire persona just isn’t a vibe. Again, I love him & he’s my favorite character so far. But the lack of screen time during pivotal scenes between him & Rhaenyra…he feels like he’s just there, ya know? I really just thinks it’s the directors fault, though!

Daemon and his vulnerability

Dear anon

Well in the ep. 6 he was clearly depressed and that may be the explanation for his behavior but in the ep.7...

I'm pretty sure Matt is following orders from the director because that's the only explanation for so many people seeing him that way during the episode 7.

Like Emma, ​​Matt has a natural charisma and a magnetic aura of sensuality. They may not be the most pretty people in the cast (again, it's all because of the media guys) but they are definitely the most attractive actors. Anyone can be aesthetically beautiful, but only a few can be attractive and that is more important than physical appearance.

But apparently Sapochnik went to great lengths to hide that attractiveness.

Do you remember that scene in episode 5, when Daemon suddenly walked into the banquet looking like a god because his strong sex appeal? That scene left us all breathless and it was just Matt walking into a room, it shouldn't be a big deal, but HE MAKES IT A BIG DEAL.

Matt in ep. 7 looks dark, sexy, romantic and seductive but you, me and almost everyone know that is not his true potential.

And do you know why I think Sapochnik made him behave like that?

Because he wants Daemon to be a cool guy, a handsome bad boy and a cold antihero, the typical hollow stereotype. Someone who doesn't quite show his feelings of vulnerability because he's "too cool for school".

Although many say that he was sad about Laena's death (something completely understandable) to many people it does not seem so. To most of us he seemed only cold and indifferent. Even for me, a huge fan of Daemyra and Matt.

Do you know which characters remind me of Daemon? Prince Philip from The Crown and Loki.

Both characters are cheeky, sexy, charismatic men with grumpy personalities who are often seen as the stereotypical cool and bad guy. But both Loki and Philip were very well written and developed characters precisely because they showed their vulnerability and their feelings.

They are both strong men (Philip is very masculine) but in emotional moments they show their vulnerability.

Matt tries at all the time to express that vulnerability because he knows his character perfectly but Sapochnik ruins it by moving the camera away from his face and not showing us his facial and body expressions in the most critical moments. All because he wants to make Daemon look like a "tough guy".

It would have been wonderful for me to see Daemon cry. Cry just a little or with only slightly teary eyes. For his years of sadness and depression, for losing his friend Laena, for the pain of his daughters, for having left the woman he loved alone with her enemies, for his brother, for happiness perhaps for marrying or having sex with Rhaenyra.

Even Rhaenyra lets out a small tear when she watches her childhood friend try to gouge out one of her children's eyes and then that friend spits all her hate in her face.

Expressing vulnerability is one of the most attractive things about a person.

We've already seen Daemon's vulnerability when he tenderly rests his head on the shoulders of Viserys, Misarya and Caraxes or how he looks confused and overwhelmed by his emotions when he kisses Rhaenyra.

Daemon seems to only come out in the wedding scene and I hope it was to show from that point on that he will no longer be the cold, tormenting man we saw in the ep. 7 and instead he will be presented like a strong man who can command an army but who can also show a little affection to his wife and children.

[sleepsonfutons]

20 questions for fic writers!

Ope it's double tag time >:D thanks @spockandthings & @bazzybelle for the tags~

This one's got length to it so get the scoop under the cut lol

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Shoot, how many do I have... let's see now... ooooh, that'd be 18!!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Eyyyy 104,261 since I started posting last year :3

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Sandman and The Witcher, though mostly Sandman so far lol

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

hmmmm, those would be...

In Awe, I Stand -> 370 kudos

Dream of the Dark -> 226 kudos

My Comfort. Your Touch. -> 216 kudos

Every Inch of Me -> 161 kudos

Starlight, Star-Bright -> 139 kudos

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

I do my best to, yes indeed! That doesn't always means it happens though cuz life and energy and honestly attention-span...but I read every single comment I get and cherish them. They are bright spots in my day and I like to share the joy I've been gifted with the person who gave it when I'm able 💖

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

Ohoho that's gotta be Don't Ask Me To Say Goodbye!! I have Plans for that AU, but as it currently stands it's angst-central with only heartbreak~

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

Most of my fics have happy endings I wanna say, but happiest has got to be a toss-up between Starlight, Star-Bright and My Comfort. Your Touch. They're both super soft, self-indulgent delights :3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

*knocks on wood* nah

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

I do [hellmo.gif] How do you feel about potatoes? (but also like relatively "normal" stuff: butt stuff, mouth stuff, touching stuff, eldritch stuff, basically a variety of different stuff >;3 LOL)

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

Not so far, though I'd not be opposed to writing one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

*knocks on wood again* not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope, but open invite to anyone who might want to! Just give me a shout when you're done cuz I'd love to see~

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

HECK YE!!!! @phinofthestorm is outstanding and I literally can't say enough nice things about writing with her! The amount of time we've spent on the same brainwave with our collab fic As a Stranger I Know Myself has been mindblowing and fantastic!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Honestly, I'll never get over GrimmIchi (Bleach) I don't think lol. The nostalgia factor is unbeatable at this point.

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

Truss Me Up But Never Leave Me Hanging probably fits the bill best, much to my chagrin. It was meant to be a canon-verse Dreamling shibari fic, but *vague handwaving* I wound up getting in my head over whether I could write it to the level of accuracy/quality I feel it deserves

16. What are your writing strengths?

Setting the scene? aka "purple prose" and metaphors

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Concise, "non-flowery" writing in general and dialogue

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

I mean if it makes sense, idk why not. Only caveat to that is if it's not a language you speak yourself, definitely get someone who does speak that language to proof it!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Witcher with the bday fic I wrote for my bestie: Where You Least Expect It

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Dang, twist my arm why don't'cha... Sheesh favorite fic I've written... I love 'em all honestly, but I reckon Along the Garden Path, We Meet. It's just a short little thing though Dream being a lil shit to Hob early on, before even their first centennial meeting in 1489, absolutely sends me every time.

Woooo we made it to the end! Now to torment tag to join the fun with 0-whole pressure @seiya-starsniper @phinofthestorm @mentallyinvernation @certifiedbisexualdisaster @blueberrymffn @gabessquishytum @delta-pavonis @aquabluejay

[tutuandscoot]

HUGS

📍Worlds 2010 FD, GPF 2017 FD

I don’t want to sound too freaky here (if you’re familiar with stuff I’ve written this should seem on par) but it’s as if through their hugs they are.. creating life.. life in the form of radiating energy and emotion. Im not saying it but I’m hinting at it in a more interpretive sense.. it is this sacred, intimate act that only they share, where they begin creating something so beautiful they will take onto the ice and share with the world.

There is so much going on. They are breathing, synchronising, but they are also softly holding each other. I don’t even think of it so much as a “hug” but just holding each other (which is to me a lot softer). They don’t necessarily get their arms all the way around like you usually associate with hugs- like cute family/best friend hugs. This is more than that. It’s more strategic, but also more… I know T doesn’t like the word ‘delicate’ (her fave quote: ‘don’t be delicate, be vast and brilliant’) but this is incredibly delicate. They are taking the time to hold each other and feel themselves be held- be made to feel weightless as they press their hearts together so they can be as close as possible. It’s gentle, it’s caring, but there’s also this subtle sensuality to it. Like this pure form of two people communicating, just through their breathing and heart beats.. like that’s really the essence of human life.. that’s what keeps us living- first humans, next artists, then dancers.. so them doing that together, the strength of both their breaths rising and falling, the beautiful movement in them as they lean and pull each other closer, as if subtly rocking each other to place of calmness and safety.

The two gifs here showing each of their POV’s (albeit at very different career stages) but how you can see in both of them what they feel in the hug. T has said that breathing was something she struggled with- regulating it and using it properly throughout performances. It hasn’t been said specifically but that being the case I like the idea of when they first started doing the hug it helped her immensely in really feeling herself breathing slowly to a set rhythm, and having him do that with her- specifically against her so she could feel her breath both inside and outside of her, must have been such a help to her.. (I struggled with my breathing too and I wish I’d had something like this). So you can totally see that as they exhale and she relaxes and slightly sinks into him as he (likely) gently pulls her closer. Like she’s just been made so much lighter and all her fears have left her soul.

The second with the reversed POV.. how he holds her, leans his head against her’s. His eyes are somehow just as beautiful closed as they are open, they are huge and you can feel the emotion in them. I always feel like their hugs are done in the style.. or maybe a better world would be the essence of the program they are about to perform. This is no different. (The top one there is a lightness indicative of Mahler) Here preparing for MR, well there’s a lot I could say about this, but I feel like this is one of those ones that there is an extra level of care and protection brought on as they prepare for the context of MR. That’s what I see behind his eyes- ‘my darling angel, I promise we’ll be ok, you are always safe with me’ before they go out and disappear into these.. terrifying characters that have to torment each other before falling in love and it ending with them losing everything.

These hugs happen just seconds before they step on the ice and while I know they would be feeling nervous, watching their hugs I don’t get any sense of nerves. Through their hugs as they breathe they inhale, hold their nerves, recognise them, then together they let them go. They create such an obvious bubble around them, everyone can see them, but they don’t see anyone or anything else (hence they shut their eyes). The energy they omit seals them in their bubble for the next several minutes. This leading them to say things like ‘(T) I like only connecting with scott, like he is the only other person who exists, that is comforting to me’ and ‘(S) she’s the only person I want to be going through all those emotions with (paraphrased)’, and how sometimes he would tell/motion to her before or after the hug, to focus on my eyes, find my eyes (and I’ll find yours), ‘we come back to each other’s eyes and find strength together’.

Of course the hug never guaranteed them a perfect, even excellent skate, but it ensured them that once they entered their bubble they were in the safest place they could possibly be.