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jolapeno · 1 year

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v. a new day

javier peña x dea! f!reader | chapter five of nowhere to run

Summary: Determined to do it better this time, Javier Peña returns to Bogotá to take down the Cali Cartel. With a new promotion, office and team, what he doesn’t expect is the pretty thing outside his office—or why they’re not allowed in the field. chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers. no use of y/n. smut. oral sex (man receiving), angst. bit of emotions are coming outttttt. Wordcount: 6.3k AN: apologies for the lateness, my personal life has just been throwing things at me and I didn't want the emotions to bleed in when i was editing. also, if there's errors, i'm so sorry, i have had no sleep. pls forgive me. as always, huge thank you to @yeyinde who allows me to ramble continuously and to @guyfieriii who is on her way to get me a magazine and send it to me. I adore you both.

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“I can’t believe you caught him?”

“Me neither.”

You lean back, eyes wide, twisting the cord around your finger.

“I did call you—last night. After we’d seen him. Rang your place, work...”

Swallowing, you smile. “I, um—“

Looking up as Peña steps out of his office, sliding his tie through the loop, eyes staring over you. Drinking you in. Making every part of you burn up under his gaze.

“—had a date.”

“Oh. How did it go?”

Biting your lip, you watch him. How his brows furrowed, letting your eyes descend down before noticing his tie. How it sat off-centre—all threaded in a rush.

You suspect he’s been ordered to attend a meeting. One likely about the day's events, one with a lot of Colombians, officials and higher-ups. So, you gesture.

The corners of your lips slightly rise, watching his smile slowly grow.

“It was good. Nice.”

Van Ness snorts. “You going to see them aga—actually, fuck this, I don’t think I wanna hear anymore.”

“Wasn’t about to tell you, Van Ness. Hey—I have to go, please be safe.”

“Always am.”

“Says the man catching Narcos—anyway, Stoddard is here, speak soon.”

“He best not be making you drinks…”

“Promise he isn’t.”

You place the phone down, standing up as Peña comes to a halt barely an inch away from you.

“That my name now? Stoddard.”

“Well, you’re struggling to sort your own tie, does seem a Stoddard thing to do, sir.”

He twitches his fingers at his side. Has been doing so since he guided Gilberto out to the flashing lights and clicks of cameras.

The significance of what they’d done—what he had done—crashed into him. Not knocking him off his feet, not even knocking him off his axis. But it kickstarted something.

It truthfully only slid over him when he slid into the seat of a car.

They’d done it. Proved that surrender wasn’t the only option—that they could be caught. Because they had caught one of them. The ones they all said were untouchable. Right in his fucking home, hiding away.

A new lease of life spreads as Javi swallows. A thrum of energy, one which has been missing since before he was sent back to the States, rippling through him as though it had never gone. Disturbing the regret he’d been feeling since…

They’d done it. The thought rolls around, his finger occasionally stroking his bottom lip—sometimes pinching his thigh as the streets flash past the window. Doing so even as his knee hits the door, needing to, just to be certain he’s awake, and not dreaming.

The truth it’s all a reality weaves into his muscles, the adrenaline bursting into his bloodstream—beautifully blending with the newly rejuvenated oxygenated cells that swim to his heart.

He knows there's a shitstorm waiting for him at the embassy. For what he’d done—but, then, they hadn’t really wanted him here for the accolades.

Stechner hadn’t vouched for him because he’d been a rule-follower. More someone to blame, to use.

And now, he’d shown them the sheer proof that it could be done—the surrender could be nil and void. They could get more.

That’s what he’d thought as he had hammered his knuckles into Martinez’s door, pulling on a string marked ‘do not touch’. Hoping he’d be forthcoming—that he’d trust him to work alongside him.

Javi hadn’t been sure if a speech on how much he wanted to do right would make up for what had already transpired. Less excuses spoken, and more acknowledged errors that he’d been determined—foolishly so. Blinded and only seeing through tunnel vision. Focused on the wrong thing; determined, but for what? None of it became clear even when he’d sat in his childhood home—or stood out in the field. The more he looked for answers, the less weight his reasonings had—the fewer excuses he could grasp at why he’d let things poison and ruin.

In the end, he was grateful he hadn’t needed to spout any of that. The sheer opportunity that Javi had brought it to him, had been enough.

Not sure any of his truthful ramblings would have made sense, anyway.

It was a true second chance. A hope which had been living in some recess, brushed off and placed front and centre at his feet. His hand outstretched, watching as Martinez shook his—a truce, of some sort, a promise. Maybe, in the smallest way, an element of forgiveness—not that Javi would allow it. It didn’t mean he’d squander or wreck it either, using it to stand a little taller and ensure his shoulders were a little more square.

It’s why he takes a moment when the car pulls up outside the building. Sitting, spreading his palms in long strokes over his thighs. Catching his breath.

He can already feel how things have changed. Already knows there will be faces turning when he steps inside, the burden of it meeting his shoulders again. Having temporarily moved it, placed it on the floor while he focused on what needed to be done. Now, the music was playing, and the true heaviness of what a second chance meant began to rest on his bones. The true power of doing good didn't just provide accolades, but gifted in moon-eyed agents and hopefulness he felt guilty squashing.

It begins when he steps down the embassy stairs, bodies stopping, turning. His cheeks warming, ears burning as they murmur and mutter. Focusing on it, while another part blindly wants to ignore it as he enters the office. It’s why the first clap doesn’t register.

It takes a moment, the applause slowly raining around him, covering him. Layering in thick noise that soaks into his skin and makes him feel cold, rather than joyous.

The worst thing is, deep down, he knows there’s an old version of him who would have smirked at all of this. Who’d have relished in it. Likely lifted his chin, and shook each hand—man or woman—rather than sinking his chin to his chest like he’s currently doing. Trying to shy from it, get through them all as they begin to move closer, ready to congratulate him—shake his hand.

A part of him knows he should be glad. Should be proud he has somewhat earned the notoriety he walks around with now. A slither of it, anyway.

Finding Stoddard’s hand, he’s the only one he shakes. Not sure what to do with the rest of his body as he lets his eyes move across the room, seeing the closing circle of those wanting to thank him, celebrate and pat him on the back. But, his eyes land only on the pair which pulls him to shore.

Yours.

The one person not clapping—leaning against your desk, head tilted to the side, doing your trademark smirk. The one Javi likes to think is just for him because he pulls it from you so frequently. The one which hits your eyes and shines like the sun on a cloudless day and warms him, even if he keeps trying not to let it.

His heart sinks, just a touch. It’s still floating on the surface of the day and is the only explanation for why it doesn’t fall to his feet. Because as he lets his eyes fall over you he realises it’s the first opportunity he’s had to think of you. To allow himself to think of you.

How he hadn’t had a chance to make sure you got home okay. The last sight of you had been in his office, lips swollen, eyes shimmering with post-lust bliss and your clothes a little off-pristine. Your hand on his wrist, sliding circles into his pulse—all thought-out and considered. You’re gonna get him, Javi. Your teeth chewed the skin of your lip as the words washed over him, a nervousness to you he rarely ever noticed—a slight discomfort in your forced expression.

But he hadn’t asked.

Swallowing, he releases the hand in his.

“–Where you going? C’mon, we want to toast you…”

Hearing Stoddard, but watching you. “Start without me.”

He never questioned the tight expression when you released his wrist, his hand grabbing at things from his desk—all set to walk out, to leave. Be safe, Javi.

It echoes through his ears as he crosses the room, watching as you take a deep breath as the gap between the two of you closes.

Javi could let himself feel it now—the spark and the concern. Could question it—let it fill him. He could find the words to ask why Cali undoes a part of you, why you always place one particular type of mask up when it's mentioned—when someone goes. Unpicking it all, seeing it all as though someone was showing it to him all on video.

Having been so laser-focused before, he’d missed it. Placed them all to the side, noticing the other things—the ones inflicted by others' words and actions, and not the looming one hovering over you as you worked.

Something had happened to you in Cali. Something that was left from the reports.

He tucks you away, hides you—keeps you purely for the times he can spare a second to truly think and consider you. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet—in the calm. A welcomed retreat, a safe haven. A person who populates a carved space in his mind, one you had barely needed to hack at to make. Because, in truth, he made it for you, found a place that he could store you in for when he felt safe enough to let you out, and he wasn’t sure what that meant.

Now just watching in slow motion as you try to hide what he assumes is relief.

It’s a gift, how you keep people out. One he would admire if he wasn’t on the other side of it and wasn’t able to recognise how quickly and smoothly you were able to slide up the veil which isn’t breachable. While he doesn’t know what monsters live in your wardrobe or which ghosts haunt you, he knows there’s a reason why you can’t tell him too.

A reason why you talk in riddles whenever bureaucracy is mentioned.

A discomfort which ebbs and flows, but never truly meets the two of you, even if it tries to. It did so before he fucked you on his desk. A look so similar to the one you gave him in his office, all soft eyes he wasn’t sure if he could ever earn deserving.

He knows people consider you to be a storm. A restless bundle of anger and lightning—thunder rumbling with every step of your heel.

But, as he comes to a stop in front of you, Javi realises he hadn't seen you like that, not since the first day when you'd tried to convince him you were. Not even as you slide around your desk, using the wooden furniture as a barrier between the two of you.

Ironic, really. When the two of you used one similar as a surface for relief, hours and hours ago.

Javi thinks you’re something more akin to a rain cloud—all set to burst and let whatever it is you hold close fall like raindrops. Maybe they’d be acidic, maybe they’d burn those unfortunate to be underneath, but he’d only care for the relief on your face.

The one he’s sure is hiding behind the smile he’s being presented with.

“Congratulations, sir.”

He slides his shades from his shirt, nodding at you. Thanking you.

Continuing, you clear your throat, “I think the Ambassador would like to see you.”

You let your words wash over him, before dropping your hand close to your mug, slowly pushing it toward him. A gesture, a bold one in a sea of eyes.

Voice dropping, you flick your eyes up to his, “You can have one sip.”

“And, if I take one more, cariño?”

Your lips scrunch, a real smile—all teeth and lines in your cheek—so desperate to break out. “You wouldn’t want to know, sir.”

Each time he swallows, he tastes your coffee.

Desperate to find a mug, to enjoy one more sip in some silence—even light up a cigarette, if he could be spared. But, it’s one thing, then another. Almost feeling the flutter of anxiety and adrenaline merging into something unheard of.

From the meeting to the note in his file, right to the press conference he had needed to lead.

As soon as it ended, he was led to the staircase—practically shoved off. His feet all heavy, legs like lead as he steps down, ready to hide in his office and release many heavy, simmering breaths.

That had been his plan. His only focus—until he finds you waiting.

Then he thinks of the file room, his place, his desk…

It knots all inside of him—that thrum of disbelief that blends so disastrously with the sudden acknowledgement he doesn’t deserve you. Something he thinks a lot, yet is finding it harder to fight off under tiredness and waning adrenaline.

It isn’t just whatever it is between you—the fun, non-committal thing neither of you are likely to acknowledge—but your mere attendance in his life.

The way you make things brighter, shine something that makes the edges a bit more colourful and meaningful. Not quite ready to allow it closer to the centre, to let it touch the parts of him still tainted in darkness and regret. He doesn’t think even your shine can do that alone.

Wiping a hand over his face, he moves towards you. Absently wondering when you’ve snuck in, having not seen you arrive or between his meeting finishing and arriving here. He’d looked for you, met Stoddard’s eyes and nodded for him to come.

Yet, here you are, shaking someone’s hand as Javi moves past another person, noticing that you’ve removed your jacket, so that he can see the outlines of your bra straps through the back of your blouse. He spots the clipboard pressed to your chest, hand wrapped around another mug—one he soon realises is the one you always give him.

It diminishes, the part of him which wants to protect you from him. From the disappointment he tends to bring and the fact he’s so thoughtless. That even under your occasional frostiness and many secrets, you’re kind… sweet.

It’s why he should blink, and turn away—not that he can tear his eyes away enough to solidify his thought of walking away. Your presence practically demands his attention, even if you’re talking to someone else. Your leg crossed in front of the other, a white pen tucked away behind your ear and hearing, as he moves closer, the Spanish flowing from your tongue. It’s crisp, and clear—rolling beautifully to his ear as the conversation nears an end. The man’s hand in yours, another placed on your arm—squeezing—bidding you farewell.

Something unfurls, and stretches its legs inside of him. Only settling when the man’s hand leaves your arm, leaves the close proximity and is walking away.

“You making friends?”

Shrugging, you smirk. “Apparently so. You looked good by the way.”

“I did?”

Nodding, you hand him the mug. “Yeah. Like you were supposed to be up there. You know, before you get into your head, it should have been someone else.”

He nods, taking a sip, wincing at the strong taste of alcohol—frowning at you as you smile wistfully.

“Thought you could do with something stronger. Also, you doing the conference is smart, I like it—takes the heat off Chris and Dan.”

He nods again, taking another sip. More prepared this time to coat his throat in amber, staring, wondering how you managed to sneak a mug of bourbon to him. Not that he should be surprised. You seemed to manage to do a lot, keep things turning, keep things organised.

“So, sir. How do you plan on celebrating?”

He takes a long drag, raising his brows that hopefully says, I think you already know, and from the smirk, you shoot him back, you do. The two of you fall into a walk, one where your strides match, where your eyes can be on the other but not walk into a thing or soul. Not speaking, not for a minute, your eyes taking him in—raking over him, assessing him for something (or nothing) he can’t be sure.

“Are you waiting for an invite for that or…”

Shrugging, he watches you take the mug back as he narrows his eyes. “Never been one to wait to be asked to be somewhere, cariño.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” you comment, sliding closer as you press the button for the elevator. “So, what? You want to take me home and fuck the day away?”

He looks at you, flicking from your eyes to your lips. Watching as you swipe the tip of your tongue against your lower lip. Your body heat is almost smothering his skin—even through his shirt and jacket. “If I ever say no to doing that, cariño. I’ve got brain damage.”

Smirking, you nudge him, the ding of the elevator's arrival making you step back. “If we have a choice, I choose yours. It's fancier.”

“I don't know, I bet you have candles and decorative pillows.”

“That what makes a place fancy in your eyes? The amount of candles someone has.”

“I have no candles.”

Snorting, you shake your head as he presses the button for your floor.

As the doors close, he glances at you, how your expression is fixed on the metal doors.

“I’m glad you came back, Peña.”

He hears it, and conjures another set of words. Ones he heard, ones he had been meaning to acknowledge—until the phone rang. Until life hurtled a thousand things, and then he was flying to Cali.

Javi… I was worried. I was worried about you.

You turn your head, flicking your eyes over him. “Another night, I’d show you how unfancy my place is. Tonight, though…”

He knows. Knew even before the teasing had begun about his place or yours. His thumb strokes over his middle and index finger as he chews his cheek.

“Plus, someone must have come in and knocked all your files on the floor,” you say, a lightness to your tone, “Left your office in a right mess.”

The doors pinged open, only able to watch as you step out—not waiting for him, just leaving him behind, chewing his smirk.

The moment Martinez left his office, he just remained sat on the edge of his desk.

It had taken longer than it should to sink in. The power people had, the corruption, how it bled and rotted in every corner of the place. The enormity of it all, how without his sacrifice and him handing his notice in, it would have all been undone.

Martinez was the good one. The one who hadn't toed the line, hadn't stepped into the grey, hadn't even been selfish. Not like him.

He drained the glass, finished his cigarette—staring at a patch on the floor until his fingers wrapped around the edge, feeling marks along the wood. For a solid minute, he traces them, feels the lines, the deepness to them, until his mind wonders if they’re from you.

No, Javi. Just you. Only you.

It’s instant, the way he darts to his bottom drawer, rummaging through until he retrieves the file—the one marked with your name. The one he’d sourced before, now paying attention to the parts he had ignored then.

From the look on your face, you’re as surprised to see him, as he is that he knocked. A wine glass in hand, the red of it sloshing from side to side as he observes you process his arrival. That he even got out of the car.

“You… know where I live?”

He drops his hand from leaning on the door frame, wiping his mouth. “I know where you live.”

Opening the door, you step aside—hands tugging at your cardigan to wrap it around yourself. “Some could call that stalking, sir.”

“Y’gotta stop with the sirs.”

“Do I?”

You smirk—it spreads up your cheeks until it hits your eyes, before your hand pushes the door closed behind him, keeping your eyes on him.

All he can think is how pretty you are. How beautiful you look, even if you’re all undone—nothing on your face, a baggy t-shirt and some shorts, the thickest socks on your feet.

“Drinking alone, cariño?”

It’s slow, how you lean against the door. Not letting the two of them head further into your place. “Some days justify it. Don’t you think?”

He does.

More than he wants to say—not wanting to spoil your evening. Taint your home with talks of work and bureaucracy. Things he suspects you know more than you’re likely to share. The thick lines through your file are all an indication of it.

You take a sip, and then another.

Adding nothing, just letting him stand there, and he half wonders if you expect him to plead his case here—or whether you’re assessing whether to eject him out of your place as quickly as you left his prior.

Mainly, he focuses on the fact it smells like you. Floral with a hint of darkness—your decor not all that different from his, just with additional touches. Some candles, some colour—some attempt at making the place feel like a home and not somewhere to rest your head.

It’s only in the growing silence does he hear the faint sound of music, something low, involving a guitar thrumming in the background.

“Are you lonely, Agent Peña?”

He places his hand in his pocket, leaning against the wall opposite you.

“No.”

You nod, rolling your lips. “Just in the neighbourhood then?”

He wipes his mouth as his other hand rubs his palm against his index finger in his pocket. Suddenly unsure why he was here—why he’d found your address and come.

Javi wasn’t lonely. Didn’t have the time to be. A sea of paperwork on his desk, the guilt weighing down on him, hearing the colonel's voice over and over—the once pleasant taste of liquor now turning bitter in the back of his throat.

“You forget I know where you live, so I know you’ve come out of your way.”

A laugh escapes and falls from his lips as he dips his head.

It all of a sudden catches up with him, how the day has been a range of emotions. The delicate way things had needed to happen, the thrum of adrenaline—the joy, the meeting, the conference…

Lifting his chin, he finds you still watching him.

No smirk. No smile. All soft edges and a comforting presence—waiting. For what, he can’t be sure, but he kicks off the wall all the same. Sliding his hand from his pocket, softly wrapping it around your hip as he places his forehead against yours, walking you backwards, taking the glass from your hand and placing it down.

He tells himself he needs a moment. A stolen one that doesn’t bleed and change into others. A break in from everything, for a second.

It only shifts when he wraps each finger on your hip, pulling you close. He keeps your shoulder blades against the wall, the guitar strumming increasing as much as his heart is beating. It’s all rhythmic, a remix of a song he isn’t sure of—but one he is tuned into all the same.

It takes his breath away how you look at him. How it’s harder to stop himself from falling into them, worsening as your hand cups his elbow. At first, it’s all shared breath and waiting. Neither moving, his forehead just remaining against yours.

“Are you okay?”

It’s so soft. Barely audible if his body wasn’t pressed against you, as he shakes his head, feeling your fingers slowly sliding in gentle circles around his elbow. Cupping him, keeping him as close as his hands keep you.

“What do you need?”

He says nothing. Afraid that saying ‘you’ is too much. Having hoped the action would speak louder than the words as he stares into you—mixing brown with yours to make a colour artists dream of.

“Hey,” you say again. More demanding, assertive. “Javi, what do you need?”

He doesn’t think, doesn’t attempt to. Embodies the former version of him—the one which had gone to the Colonel’s home, to begin with—the one who takes and takes and takes.

“You drunk, baby?”

He hears you swallow, before slowly shaking your head.

“Good,” he whispers.

Closing his eyes, he lifts his forehead before dipping his head, his mouth captures yours. Javi merges the taste of sweet wine, whiskey and his cigarettes together, creating a taste so intoxicating and delicious he’s not sure he ever wants to come up for air.

Just need you, he thinks as his tongue slips past your parted lips.

Only want you, he urges as he feels your other hand sliding around his neck, deepening the kiss, his tongue able to taste that small whimper you do when he squeezes your hip.

It’s different—but then each time he kisses you is. It has been needy, and passionate. Another, it has been soft, almost meaningful. Now, this time, he’s able to feel how warmth consumes him as you kiss him more purposefully. He deepens it in search of more, kissing you more hungrily, full of need and want.

It’s only when he feels your hand skate over the back of his neck, fingers teasing the bottom of his hair, does he slow. In time, pulling back, pressing his forehead against yours—bruising your hip with his fingers as he takes a few deep breaths.

“Whatever it is…”

“We can’t fix it, cariño.”

It’s cold—the way he says it. Wishing he could retract it the moment he sees your brows scrunch. Instead, he shows no sign of letting up his grip on you. Hoping it’s enough to wordlessly explain that he needs you close, wants you—in fact. Needed to just be around you. Even if he shouldn’t, couldn’t…

He presses two fingers to the side of your cheek, curling them. Your mouth parts, words—likely reassuring ones, knowing what he knows about you—are all desperate to fall and heal over the cracks. But, he shakes his head, watching your lips close as quickly as they had opened, your fingers continuing to draw shapes at the base of his hairline, studying him—searching his eyes.

Then, like a light in a dark room, understanding spreads across your gaze. Illuminating everything, likely connecting the dots in that beautiful—but deeply fascinating—way you do.

“Martinez…”

“Cariño… not, not right now.”

Slowly, you smile, spreading your fingers in his hair—tugging on him, pulling him with far too much ease until his forehead presses back against yours.

“You did this… before.”

A breath escapes his lips. “Yeah…”

“Why’d you come, Javi?”

I needed you.

It wasn’t a lie. If anything, it was more truthful than he cared to admit or accept. Which is why he didn’t say it—didn’t let on that the moment the walls began to tremble, he thought of you. Looked through the blinds, bitterly disappointed you weren’t there to be witty and sarcastic, smirk in that way that gets under his skin and make some flirtatious comment that makes it hard not to kiss you.

He could tell you that. Be honest.

Instead, he says nothing, staring into your eyes until he feels your other hand, the one which has been continuing to grip his elbow, squeeze.

“Okay. Lemme look after you,” you whisper, before kissing him.

Brushing your lips against him, before pulling away and then kissing him again. Testing the waters, looking for some form of permission as he grips your hips, giving it to you. He doesn’t protest when you begin trailing kisses down his jaw. Your fingers sliding around his arm, to his waist, to the belt holding his trousers up.

Holding the base of your neck, he stares into your eyes, feeling your palm brush suddenly over his cock. “You don’t have to, car—“

“Shh,” you whisper.

Slowly, he watches as you lower yourself to your knees, his throat going dry at the mere sight of you. Watching as you grip his cock. All teasingly slow, dragging it out—your tongue sweeps across your bottom lip as you continue to stroke him.

Eyes closing, he lets his head meet the wall. Needing more—almost asking for it.

It’s what you want, he assumes. Because as soon as he reaches the point where he’s going to ask, you wrap your pretty lips around him. Taking note of the way you run your tongue around the head of him before licking a stripe along the underside of his cock. Finding that your eyes don’t leave his—watching what you do to him, enjoying it.

It’s endearing.

A desire building, suddenly wanting nothing more than to watch—how he wants an unrestricted view of such beauty—of you taking him down your throat, of your cheeks hollowing, even if your actions are compelling him to close his eyes.

You’re always pretty—but this is something else. You are on your knees for him.

Taking as much of him as you can, your hand working what you can't fit—his own hand tightening around your head as you wrap his cock in warmth.

He feels you smirking, your mouth pulling back as you swirl your tongue over the head of his cock, a hand grasping the back of his thigh as you hum around him.

“So fuckin’ pretty, cariño.”

The tip of your tongue slides over his slit, making him hiss again—making your name tumble freely from his tongue as he leans himself against the wall for leverage.

“I know,” you whisper, tracing your lips with his slick head, “Come down my throat, Javi.”

He grunts, nails digging into his palm as you take him down your throat. His other hand bites into your head as you take him deeper, his hips spluttering, thrusting against your tongue.

Your eyes have closed.

The window into your need to please him vanishes, and he wants to ask you to open them. To let him see. His finger strokes the top of your cheek, feeling the dampness from a tear at how deep you’re taking him.

How deep you want him down your throat.

His hand aids you, fucking into you as you hollow and moan—it vibrates all around him. It covers and smothers his own grunts and groans. The one you pull from him with ease, because everything with you he is slowly learning is easy. Not complicated—even if the situation is.

All he can think is you’re a fucking goddess, an angel—something he’s now one hundred per cent sure he doesn’t deserve.

He hisses out your name, feeling your hands clutch at him for balance, his moans filling the hallway of your place until he’s coating your throat in his pleasure. You lap up every drop of it, swallowing it—swallowing all of what he’s given you.

You don’t move, not for a minute. Him slowly pulling himself from your mouth, your hand wiping any spend from your lips to your tongue.

“You’re… fucking—”

“Something?”

He snorts, arranging himself before he fastens his trousers, shaking his head. His hand offers out to you, pulling you up from your knees as he adjusts your cardigan—as he places his lips against yours.

“I didn’t… this wasn’t why I came around.”

“Why did you… come round?”

His muscles tighten, swallowing as he stares at you.

Then you smile, placing a hand over his chest, palm flat, fingers spread. “You got anywhere to be, sir?”

Javi is frowning, before the rest of your words sink in. His hand captures yours, holding it flat against him as he shakes his head.

“Because you’re here, may as well let me toast you.”

Some mornings greet him loudly—sweat clinging to his skin, head hammering, and the world chirping.

The morning, it greets him gently, softly. The sun slides through open curtains, a calmer sound of occasional passing cars greeting his ears.

It’s only then that he registers he’s waking beside you. Your warm, soft skin curled against him—his own arm holding you close, keeping you close.

It takes a second for the sleep to flutter past his eyes, glancing at the clock on your bedside table—the one which ticks ever so loudly now he’s awake. It’s obvious the two of you have managed to catch a few hours, remembering how he’d brought you in here—thrown your decorative pillows to the floor with a smirk that you kissed immediately from his mouth.

He had told you he wouldn’t stay.

But, here he is. Now, though, he should move—even if he’s unsure if he wants to.

It’s never been his favourite thing, waking up outside of his own space. Never mind besides someone else. There were occasions and exceptions. He’s not prepared or currently capable of assessing whether you’ve slotted yourself there, either.

All he knows is… he likes it, being here.

Enjoying the fact he’s been allowed to steal a moment of this—of you. Letting himself enjoy it, the sound of your soft inhales and exhales, the way you fit against him—not in a way that looks perfect but simply feels it.

And it scares him. Just a little bit.

That thought returning, the one which bellows and beats the drum that you deserve better: than him, than what he can give you and the life you’d have being around him.

Pinching his nose, he knows he should go to the office. Should begin to unravel the highs and lows of the day prior. Make a start on the paperwork that is already mounting higher than he expected.

Instead, he turns his head. Selfishly admiring the way you sleep so peacefully, how he’d somewhat expected to find a creased forehead or a tightened jaw. A part had also expected to hear nightmares plague you, knowing there’s something there—living in your mind. A bad memory, a past which hammers at you to get out.

He’d half expected to have his own rear its head too.

Instead, he’s sure none had greeted the night air.

If anything, he slept peacefully, soundly. Almost oddly, for the most consecutive hours since way before Escobar was caught. He shuffles against the pillow, eyes widening when he realises and feels your head rolling ever so slightly on his chest. The smallest of movements that had rippled out into hearing you murmur.

Freezing, it dawns on him that he doesn’t want the bubble to burst. Studying, secretly praying he hasn’t woken you, as your lashes flutter and your lips don’t press back together. He’s a passenger, unable to stop the undoing as your brows dip, your fingers spread over his chest—

“J-Javi?”

It’s full of sleep, his name. And fuck, it has never sounded so nice.

He thought it bellowed or screamed as he fucked someone was good, but this… is something else. It takes a chunk from him, snatches it, and renders him thoughtless as you turn your head on his chest, looking up at him, blinking.

“Morning,” he whispers, thumb stroking your cheek. “I’m… I should go, cariño…”

You frown, not like normal—smothered in sleepiness that it doesn’t quite form.

A string is plucked in his chest when your fingers slide over his chest, watching them rub at your face. A desperation rises in him to kiss you, to taste what morning and goodness is like—even if it's coated in unbrushed teeth and last night.

But, it’s his moment to move—his chance. To relieve you of his presence.

Not that he takes it. Instead, he absorbs the moment he was robbed of the first night he took you to his—of seeing you without armour or walls.

“If y’give me…”

“—cariño—“

“… like fifteen, maybe twenty minutes,” you say, words monotone and low as your hand slowly drops from your face to his chest. “I need… really need a shower. Then can come wit’you.”

As soon as you sit up, cool air brushes over the places you’d been against him—goosebumps appearing over his skin as you stretch. His hand lightly grasps your forearm, keeping you from sliding out the sheets completely as he whispers your name.

Lets it slide into the air of your home, around the two of you—the room he secretly wishes could pause time so neither of you had to leave.

Not ready to face the fallout from Martinez, the look of ‘what’s next’ on everyone’s face. Never mind the note clearly from Stechner.

“You don’t… you don’t have to, I need…”

His fingers move to your cheek, sliding over your jaw, only managing a half-breath as you flick your eyes to look over him—stunning him in a shade, he’s not sure truly has a name.

“W-what?”

“Nothing,” he lies.

Following your suit, he sits up, your sheet falling to his waist as he marries his lips back to yours. Fingers finding your chin, keeping you there, stealing another moment, and another. Doing so until your hand wraps around his wrist, thumb stroking a line up and down his wrist.

“I need a shower…”

He snorts. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“I’m normally in an hour or two later anyway—plus…”

“Plus?”

Your lips slide, less of a smirk but more than a smile. “I have to come and ensure you don’t fuck with my organisational system. No other reason.”

“Not one?”

“No.”

He tuts. “I can keep things organised.”

You scoff, light and airy. “Peña, you’ve been here five minutes, and your desk already looks like it’s amassed ten years of files, so—I’m gonna call bullshit. Respectfully.”

“Respectfully?”

“Yes.”

He allows a laugh to escape, light and airy, it falling from him with far too much ease. Pulled from some depths he hasn’t allowed himself to explore.

Sliding from him, you stand, grasping at a t-shirt that begins to mist over your body—hiding your skin, your curves and the marks he’s left from view.

“I… I should say, I don’t mind that you showed up at my place, Javi.”

He traces his mouth with his thumb, looking at you. “Javi, huh?”

You smile, rolling your lips as you sigh. “You wore me down.”

“Go shower, I’ll wait for you.”

Pausing at the door frame, you glance at him, half your body framed in shadow and the other in the morning light. He’s not sure he’s ever seen someone look more beautiful in the earliest hours of a new day.

chapter six ->

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flowercrowngods · 2 years

Text

in which steve is having a bad day and sinks into a spiral that leaves him nonverbal and pulling back from the people he loves. lucky for him, eddie loves him too much to let him slip away completely. | 1.2k

Steve loves the kids. He does. He would go through it all again if it meant that they’d be safe. He’ll sit through Henderson’s endless rambles and Max’s unending sass until the rest of his days if he has to. If they’ll let him.

He loves them. But some days he just can’t stand being the only dumb one, the only one who doesn’t get the jokes, the only one whose laugh will be strained because he wants to ask, but he doesn’t want their looks.

The looks that so clearly say ‘You’re only here because you saved the world with us, you’re not actually important to the group and we only put up with you because we’ve shared trauma now.’

Maybe that’s a bit unfair to say, but that’s how he feels.

In fact, he doesn’t know why they put up with him either, and most days he just wants to pull back. Leave them to their fun, let them enjoy their lives without having to explain their every word. Steve knows that’s exhausting. It’s also why he’s stopped asking for clarification. He’s already pulling back.

Eddie, absolute sweetheart that he is, is the only one who will lean into Steve’s side and explain, or translate, or just show any sign of patience.

And while Steve loves him for that, it makes him feel even more pathetic. Because Eddie – wonderful, pretty, kind, fucking metal Eddie – shouldn’t have to put up with all that either. All the gentle words, the quips, the easy way he manages to make everything seem to make sense, they’re wasted on Steve, because there’s nothing he can offer in return.

Now that the Upside Down is gone, Steve is useless. Now that the kids don’t need protecting anymore and only a ride here or there, Steve is just… Steve. And on his darkest days, he finds himself wishing that the Upside Down were still there. Just so he could have a purpose.

It’s fucking pathetic. It drives him insane with guilt, making his dark days even darker, because it will lead him down a spiral that will steal the air from his lungs until he forgets even the simplest of things like how to breathe or to hold back the tears.

Today is one such day, and Steve can’t breathe as he’s holding the phone to his ear even though the thought of speaking makes his skin crawl and he doesn’t think he can do that. Which makes his eyes sting again as he pulls his hair, trying to pull out the thoughts that steal his words, his breath, his purpose.

“What’s up, Steve?” comes Eddie’s voice from the other end of the line and it makes Steve’s heart skip, his lungs constrict, his vision blur. “Stevie? You there?”

“Yeah,” he rasps and clears his throat. When he tries again, his voice is surprisingly stable, all things considered. “Yeah, sorry, I just wanted to let you know that I can’t make it to movie night.”

Steve closes his eyes and clenches his fist until his nails are buried in his palms, the pain grounding against the fear that Eddie will hear something’s wrong, that he’ll want to know what’s up. Or worse, that he’ll cancel movie night and instead come over to make Steve talk.

Somehow, he makes it through the phone call, through Eddie’s dramatics even though every word he speaks makes his skin tingle until he can’t quite feel his body anymore. It makes him dizzy, and he just wants to go to bed and leave the lights on forever.

He doesn’t quite remember what he told Eddie or when the other boy hung up, but when he finds his way back to his body, there is the constant noise of the dial tone. It’s almost calming, grounding, and Steve stands there for a while, just listening to it, his forehead against the wall, the sensation cool against his skin.

Minutes, hours, maybe years pass as he listens, because it drowns out the thoughts, fills his mind with an emptiness that is more pleasant than the glaring void from earlier that swallowed him whole.

Then the tone stops and there are arms wrapping around his middle. The familiar smell of cigarette smoke, leather and Eddie surrounds him and Steve just closes his eyes. The world shifts and he lets it, because if there is one thing he has learned, it’s that if you try to keep the world from shifting, it’ll leave you with cuts and bruises and broken hearts and nightmares.

When the world is done doing its thing and dragging Steve along with no regard for how tired he is, he finds himself warm and horizontal, but maybe that’s just his mind playing tricks on him.

And then there are words. They trickle through the fog of his mind like sparks of light in endless darkness. Steve tries to focus on them even though it makes his body tingle again, his hands shaking and his breath overwhelmed once more.

I’ve got you, Stevie. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, I promise.

Eddie. It sounds like Eddie. Smells like him, too, and it brings him back to the surface until he realises that he is lying in his bed on top of Eddie, his head resting under the metalhead’s chin and gentle vibrations go through him with every word Eddie speaks. They ground him as the world comes back to Steve.

But when it comes back, it comes crashing. Eddie is here with him instead of with the kids, he’s calming him and telling him sweet things instead of having a good time. Eddie shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t have to see him like this, shouldn’t—

“Hey, no, don’t apologise, sweetheart. Don’t—”

Useless. So useless. Fucking pathetic, stupid, weak. Sorry. Sorry. So, so sorry.

“Baby,” Eddie whispers, his hands in Steve’s hair, smoothing over the frayed edges of his mind that seem to fray even further with every word that comes out of his mind. “Shh, my love, my Stevie, you’re none of that, yeah? You perfect, perfect boy. You’re wonderful. You hear me? I don’t know what I’d do without you. I need you. I love you. I’ve got you. You can rest now, we’ll talk tomorrow. I promise I’ll still be here. I promise I’ll still have you. I promise I’ll still love you.”

Promise?

“Yeah, sugar. I promise. I promise.”

And Steve falls asleep like that, with Eddie’s hands in his hair, his words in his ear, his warmth everywhere. He doesn’t believe it, not in that moment, but it’s enough. It’s enough. It’s a promise, after all.

They’ll talk when Steve has his words back, because he knows even through the fog of his fucked up mind that Eddie won’t let this go. He cares too much for that. And although it’s new for Steve, although it’s heavy sometimes to carry the weight of someone’s love and trust and worry, he thinks they might make it work. Hopes that they do. Hopes that Eddie knows what he got himself into with that promise.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington whump #in true fashion i am resuming my streak at nonverbalising my blorbos #dio words

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vashhanamichi · 11 months

Note

Sorry for the number of asks/questions. I am curious on what you like about Tomarry and Grindledore. Also what are your honest thoughts on Dumbledore/Tom Riddle, Drarry, Tomione and Wolfstar. What other HP ships appeal to you?

So, first of all, I'm very sorry for taking so long to answer! And second, never apologize for sending me questions, I love getting them even if I take a while to answer. If you'll forgive me, I will only talk about one of those ships in this ask, but you can ask me about the other ones in other asks, it's just that talking about all of them in just one ask would turn my answer into a (even more) giant rambling I fear. Also because I only have true strong opinions about some of these ships, so I chose a single one, the one I have most opinions about, the one I have loved for the longest time.

That ship is, naturally, Voldemort (Tom Riddle)/Harry Potter.

I want to preface this by saying that I see them and ship them in a sort of unusual way, or at least it seems so, because I haven't found my particular interpretation of them in the fandom so far (though I've read fanfics that shook some of its branches) in more than a decade of shipping this ship. But I guess all authors are like that -- we're all trying to fill a void shaped as our own want.

It's true, too, that there's many ways of interpreting canon and molding its clay. I'm not constant in my characterization of Voldemort (though some things repeat themselves) for example: in some fics I make him an experienced philanderer, in others he's as virginal as Harry, or even more so. He's angrier at times, but softer, milder in some others. More or less irrational depending on the context. More or less bloodthirsty. Harry's well of patience dries with diverging speeds. So does his sanity.

With that said, what do I like about them, the basis?

I like a combination of two main rivers of characterization regarding them. Those are: 1) Voldemort as the Monster Groom, the Fairy Tale Villain, the Nightmare, The embodiment of fear and Harry as his favorite Victim, his killing, his bride. 2) Voldemort as a Father, Harry as his child. Voldemort as a son, Harry as his Mother. Voldemort as God (or Satan), Harry as his creation. It's important to note that these are fluid and fund with each other -- God is also a Groom, God is also a Father. A bride is a victim, is a deer, is a son, is a killing, is a meal.

Alright, so on with it.

Trigger warnings: discussion of CSA, incest So, Voldemort as the Monster, Harry as his Victim:

I think it’s very interesting how for four books Voldemort haunted Harry from beyond the grave, so to speak. Until his resurgence in the graveyard Voldemort was, in his own words, “less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost . . . but still (…) alive.”

That, along with his self-appointed title, the awe and terror he inspires, his seemly unlimited power, gives him the aura of being more monster than human.

It’s also telling that their first meeting — when Harry was a baby — happened in Harry’s nursery, in the bedroom. It’s been written before by scholars who write about the slasher genre that the violation of the bedroom can be read as a violation of the victim’s own body. Even after coming back as flesh Voldemort keeps on haunting Harry in his dreams — again, violating him in his bed. Throughout the fifth book he entices Harry to leave the safety of Hogwarts to meet him again.

Candyman (1992)

A nightmare on elm street — the dream master (1988)

There’s an element of fairy-tale thrill to Voldemort and his relationship with Harry; his self-given title and his true name are both keys to understand him, even to defeat him. It’s only by discovering the truth about “Tom Riddle” that Harry acquires the weapons needed to defeat “Lord Voldemort”. By turning him from monster to human — uncovering his past, something the protagonists of horror movies usually have to do to defeat the monsters trying to kill them.

Candyman, for example, is called forth by having his name said aloud three times in front of a mirror. A similar taboo is put upon Voldemort’s name in the seventh book.

In more romantic terms, Voldemort seems to me like Mr. Rochester when he calls Jane Eyre — his strange, almost unearthly thing — and she hears his call all the way across the moors. Voldemort and Harry’s connection is an supernatural one and thus surpasses the physical obstacles in their way.

Then there’s Harry, Harry as a bride, Harry as a victim, Harry as The Final Girl — the one who got away. The Boy Who Lived.

Nancy in A Nightmare on Elm Street

Harry’s existence and his title — The Boy Who Lived — are defined by Voldemort. He was a survivor before he could speak, he was marked. Like many Final Girls he’s a teenager, virginal, brave. He’s also not taken as seriously as he should be. He survives but there’s always a cost. In the fifth book (imo the best in the series) he’s explicitly traumatised. A final girl wanders into the Death Realm. She comes back but brings something with her. She’s changed. Voldemort changed Harry, Voldemort touched Harry, Voldemort violated Harry. He comes back from the graveyard (the Death Realm) but he’s not the same.

In the fifth book Harry displays a lot of signs of trauma and, many times, the trauma of someone who was raped. After Nagini’s attack he feels deeply unclean:

There’s a deep sense of inevitability when it comes to Harry and Voldemort. He’s transformed, marked, from an ordinary baby to a Christ figure, The Chosen One. He’s made. Voldemort’s touch transforms him.

He lives between two deaths, like Hannibal’s Abigail:

Twice-killed, Abigail lived a borrowed amount between one father and the next. Her scar was a sign that she was marked for death, like a bride wearing an engagement ring. Harry was the same — his time was borrowed, between one Avada Kedavra and the next.

Harry’s becoming from ordinary child to redeemer of Wizarding Kind was done through Voldemort’s tempering. It’s as if Voldemort is God to Lily’s Mary and James’ Joseph. It took Voldemort’s decision to make him into The Chosen One. Harry as we know him is Voldemort’s creation.

That makes Voldemort, in a way, Harry’s third parent. Harry collects father figures throughout the books, he finds them in Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore (Snape too arguably). They all abandon him by dying. The one who endures, the one who’s always there, is Voldemort. Voldemort never disappoints. His parenting of course it’s a painful one but we can’t forget that pain is what Harry knows given what he faced with the Dursleys. A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.

Voldemort is obsessed with him and hurts him. But he’s there, always there. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike, Dumbledore says. Voldemort is many thing but not indifferent to Harry.

And that’s the thing. That’s the pain of it, the way I like them — fiction is not reality after all — as a unhealthy, tragic pairing. Harry can’t live without Voldemort because he’s too deeply his. Alice Notley says it best:

Harry belongs to Voldemort. I ship Voldemort with other characters, like Dumbledore and Bellatrix, but they all have extensive pasts and lives (even Bellatrix, who's so devoted to Voldemort) beyond Voldemort. Harry was created for Voldemort, scarred by him, mauled by him. This sort of prison, the fact that Harry can't ever escape Voldemort, his Father, his Maker, his Killer, is part of what draws me so much to them.

It's getting very late here and I'm making less and less sense as I go. This is the longest post I have ever wrote I think, on years and years of tumblr, and to be honest I could keep talking about them, using other metaphors, other references. I hope it's not completely nonsensical. I really like them.

That's all for today, and I apologize again for the delay in answering it, if you want you can ask me about other ships in separate asks! Thank you for the ask and I'm sorry for all of this rambling.

#harrymort #asks #sorry for being insane etc #tomharry

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covenofwives · 8 months

Text

The Cure for a Spiral

DreamXD is panicking over his upcoming talk with Dream. There's just so much he has to say and so much explaining he has to do but his self-doubt make him spiral. GeorgeHD has the perfect solution to keep him on track.

Next part in the AU. Sorry this one is so short.

---

The only times DreamXD ever felt fear in his life all involved Dream.

He remembered when his brother was sick with a fever for the first time and XD was clueless. He scoured the libraries for any medical books and followed the instructions down to the smallest details till Dream was nursed back to health.

Then when Dream went missing one day and XD would have torn the End apart to find him. The relief and frustration he felt when he finally found his brother couldn’t be matched.

When XD had learned the server was in a hunt for Dream, his heart leapt to his throat and he couldn’t dare watch anymore as Dream was dragged, kicking and screaming, to the prison.

And finally when he heard the booming call of the End portal being opened, XD knew in his heart that it was Dream. He was fully expecting the sight of his brother’s lifeless body waiting for him at the end and prepared himself for it. He did not have time to express his relief when he saw both he and George were alive. The anger came first.

Now DreamXD felt a new kind of fear, once again tied to Dream. The fear that he had backed off too much and he had severed any chance of a relationship between himself and Dream. The thought pained him to dwell on and kept him up at night worrying.

He knew he had been drastic in his actions when he interrogated Dream, but in the moment he could excuse it as being important. Now it was over and XD was swelled with guilt and the need to make amends.

As promised in his note to Dream, he met with his brother a couple days later. This time XD stood outside while Dream spoke from the doorway of George’s cottage. George just right behind him.

It had been so long since XD had seen George, or seen Dream and George together again. It was nice to see them close, depending on one another again, and it hurt XD he couldn’t be that close with them again.

The three spoke, though it was mostly Dream and XD. They came to the conclusion they needed to have time to speak and clear the air between them once and for all. Years of misunderstandings would be aired and handled.

So Dream proposed a time to talk next week. It would be held in George’s cottage for ease to Dream and XD agreed. And now every day since then, he’d been nothing but fearful.

“I mean, like it’s not a super serious talk, you know? But…well it will lead to probably serious stuff. It’s a lot we probably have to talk about.”

XD explained to GeorgeHD. Or, more rambled on to him. The sleepy God lounged over his fort of pillows and blankets, but he was oddly alert and interested in XD’s words this time. Probably because XD mentioned it was about Dream.

XD never asked what happened between HD and Dream when he left his younger brother in the care of the God, but it must have been positive. Every time XD visited he asked about Dream and how the mortal was getting on and would frown when XD admitted he hadn’t worked up the courage to speak to him. Now he told HD that the two were talking and HD was all ears.

“But it’s a sudden thing right? To suddenly delve into years of misunderstandings so like it can’t be expected to be serious stuff right away. I think it’s like laying it all out first you know then we’ll work on stuff from there. That makes sense right?”

XD looked at HD expectantly for an answer. The older God said nothing for a while until it seemed he realised it was finally his time to speak. “I’ve never seen you this nervous.” Was the first thing he said.

XD’s cheeks went red and he fought back the urge to pull his mask on. He had even gone without the wraps around his eyes, showing the void of blackness and his ever moving eyes in front of HD, though it was nothing the other God hadn’t seen before. Today XD was too wound up to have the wraps on.

“Well it’s a lot to be nervous about!” XD huffed.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” HD lazily held up his hand before pushing himself to sit up properly. “Though I was worried if you didn’t stop and take a breath you would have been the first God to die from suffocation.”

“I…” XD could feel himself wanting to ramble again, and he took in a breath and slowed himself down. “I just want things to go smoothly. I don’t want to fuck this up. Dream’s giving me a chance to talk.”

“He’s probably just as nervous as you are.” HD assured him. “He’s probably pacing back and forth, worrying over every little thing he’s going to say to you.”

That was a nice thought to have. Not on his brother being nervous but the idea that Dream was listing out everything he’d want to say to XD to try and make this better was a hopeful thought. Too hopeful for XD to believe. “I don’t think he wants to speak to me.”

“Trust me, he very much does.”

HD sounded so assured and XD couldn’t help but be curious. “Has he…said anything to you?”

One of the corners of HD’s pillows caught the older God’s attention and kept his face turned down to inspect it. “It’s not my place to say. Dream should get the chance to tell you.” He looked up again. “But you’re worrying too much, I promise you. This isn’t a one chance he’s given you, he wants to talk to you as much as you want to talk to him.”

XD didn’t believe it, but he held his tongue on it. Dream certainly wanted to explain himself for his stunt and maybe he was owed that, but he couldn’t really imagine his brother wanting to talk with him. They had drifted too far apart.

“Come here.” HD suddenly pulled XD from his thoughts. A few of their ephemeral hands set up pillows for HD to lean back on, and one placed over his lap which they patted for XD to lay down.

This seemed suddenly far too nice for HD, but XD played along. He shuffled himself over and lay down with his head over HD’s lap.

“Do you have a plan to talk?”

XD looked up, watching HD watching him. It was a little unnerving, but it was also comforting in a strange way.

“Well…y-yes I do.” XD cleared his throat. “So I think we should talk about what happened in the End. I didn’t really explain things properly with him. And I never gave him a chance to explain himself. So I think opening with that is better.”

Even as XD said the words he could feel doubt filling his head. “A-Although…maybe talking about how we stopped talking in the first place is better? We could start from the beginning and work towards where we-EEE!”

A hand suddenly squeezed into his side. XD jumped, squealed and looked down just in time to see the white ephemeral helper hand of HD disappear. He looked up to HD while curling his lower arms around his sides in protection. He silently asked for an explanation.

“You were doubting yourself, and rambling off point.” HD nodded along to his words as though it was expected. “Now. Take a breath and focus. You’re going to talk about the End. Work from there.”

Like that is easy to do when the hands could appear at any moment. XD glanced down to his sides again but the hands were gone. He had no way to know when they’d appear, so he just swallowed his worry and tried to speak clearly again.

“I… I’m going to talk to him about the whole thing with the End. I’ll let him explain himself then I’ll speak from my point.”

XD gave a look up to a nodding HD who decided that was allowed.

“Then I was going to let him say whatever he wants to say.” XD continued. “like for all the years I did wrong, and try to smooth things over when I can. But…” Self doubt started to creep in. “I don’t want it to feel like I’m springing all this on him. Like-Like he doesn’t have to explain himself if he’s uncomforta-HAHA!”

Apparently that was not the right thing to say either, as another hand appeared from nowhere. XD saw it too late and could only manage to half curl his legs up before it tasered into his sides. He gave a very high squeak before breaking into giggles.

“H-Hehey!”

“You spiralled.” HD said like it was obvious. “You need to not do that.”

“I-I wasn’t spiralling.” XD defended himself, then yipped when the hand appeared again, this time at his other side. He managed to get his legs curled up and his arms blocking his sides and ribs. “N-Noho!”

“You doubt your own plans and get in your head about how Dream will react. All you need to be focusing on is how you react and how you come across as to Dream.”

XD thought the hand would disappear with just a warning, but it stayed, and it slowly drifted closer to XD’s side. He tried to turn away, but HD’s hands softly fell on his shoulders, holding him down as he helplessly looked up.

“HeheDehehehe…”

“You need to get out of your head.” HD decided. “And what better way to get you out of there?”

The hand touched upon XD’s side, making his skin jump. It got to the bit just behind XD’s top, skittering more along his back than his sides. XD cursed his more revealing back now more than ever. It didn’t tickle a lot, the fingers just skittering so lightly along his back, but it made him giggle.

HD’s thumbs rubbed into XD’s shoulders, making soothing circles into his skin. The younger God held back a soft moan. His muscles slowly relaxed without his control, making him more giggly to the fingers fluttering along his side. It was making him more tickly and distracted him from the hands materialising by his feet.

XD was allowed a few seconds of soft tickles before the hands by their feet grabbed their ankles. They made a loud squeak, and tried to pull against their legs being forced to stretch out but it was pointless. They had one on each of his ankles and one poking at each of their soles.

“HeheDehe…”

“4K is so right. It’s absolutely tragic your feet aren’t ticklish.”

A blush crept up from XD’s shoulders to his cheeks. He curled his toes to the strange tingling feeling running over his feet. It wasn’t ticklishness, but they did feel more sensitive whenever 4K or HD mentioned them.

“Y-Yohou and him are too obsessed with my feet.” XD challenged back.

“Well it’s unfair. That spot is tickly for both of us. It drives 4K mad even, but we can’t get good revenge on you.”

XD knew about HD’s tickly feet but he’d never gotten the change to tickle 4K’s. Whenever the God took off his boots around XD it was usually when they were settling down for a nap. Although now that XD thought about it, it was odd he was the only God among them to wear footwear. Like he was protecting them.

“4K’s feet drive him bad?” XD tried to ask casually.

“Oh yeah. Hysterics.” HD shrugged. “He still loves being tickled there but he can’t help but kick and roll and curl up to try and protect his feet. Too sensitive for him to keep still, he had to be held down when he asks for feet tickles.”

A lot of details flagged in XD’s head but the main one was that 4K had, at one point, specifically asked for his feet tickled and HD complied. Before XD could do anything with that fact, a quick skitter ran across his ankles, making him bark out a laugh.

“Wh-Whahat!” The skittering followed a long continuous tickle across his ankle. XD had been so busy processing the information HD gave him he didn’t notice the tickling stopping at his side or the hands no longer poking at his soles. “N-Nohohot fahahair!” XD chirped and tried to pull his legs away.

“Your ankles being adorably ticklish make up for it I suppose.” HD smiled.

“Ihihit’s nohohot adohorahable! S-SToHOhoHOHOP!”

The hands danced their tickly dance up XD’s ankles, travelling further up his legs till it reached his knees. He whimpered and pleaded through giggles, but when the hands squeezed his knees and skittered along the sides, his laughter turned soft and his pleading slowly stopped.

“I got your kneeeees~” HD’s voice was a gentle whisper.

“D-Dohoooon’t…”

“Don’t? Don’t get your knees? Or don’t stop tickling your knees?”

XD kept quiet and HD didn’t press on. They both knew the answer and it was obvious with XD little whine when the hands stopped their tickling. It was then XD noticed his ankles weren’t even being held anymore.

“So, what’s your plan with Dream?”

HD’s voice was a soft purr, nestling in XD’s head and drawing his thoughts to the surface. “Give Dream a chance to explain himself about the End. Then I’ll explain my side.”

HD slowly nodded. “Right. And then what?”

One of the older God’s actual hands came down by the right side of XD’s face. They could feel the fingers playing with a strand of their hair. “Then I… I don’t know…” XD admitted. Their body tensed, expecting to be tickled suddenly, but they were left alone.

“That’s alright.” HD’s voice eased their tension. “You have years of confusion to work through, you can’t be expected to have a plan for it.”

XD gave the slightest of nods, agreeing in part. The words of Dream ran through his head again as he thought of it.

“Why do you need a plan for me?! Why can’t you just talk with me first?! You’re my brother!”

“I think I’ve been planning too much.” XD admitted. “I think instead of planning I should have been talking to Dream.”

“The last horse crosses the finish line.” HD half chuckled. He pressed a kiss to the top of XD’s head to show no hard feelings. “It won’t be easy but I know you love Dream more than anything, and Dream is your brother. So your stubbornness for love is in him too.”

“I hope he doesn’t have my lack of forgiving nature.” XD grimaced but pulled himself to sit up. He felt weirdly rested, like he’d taken a nap.

“You both just need to talk and take it from there. It wouldn’t be fixed overnight, or even over a week, but you both taking the first step is the right thing to do.”

XD could agree with that, though talking about the first step and actually taking it were two different things. It wouldn’t help matters either that George would be there. While XD loved George as much as he loved Dream, and George deserved a chance to explain his side too, the God couldn’t help feel like it was a two on one situation. Even though he knew that idea was ludicrous. He was God for Prime sake, it wasn’t like it was unfair.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Like a soft bell ringing in his mind, the dark clouds of doubts cleared and XD looked over to HD.

“Really?! I-I mean...would you? Would that be okay?”

XD did not want to presume their friend’s offer was just talk but they worried HD wasn’t ready for the Overworld again. XD still hadn’t gotten to ask HD about their status as the Overworld God. Or the fact he used to be the Overworld God. It seemed too personal and whatever happened made HD avoid the place.

But he offered to accompany XD so easily, and without a trace of regret on his face. HD just simply shrugged. “Well, I need to start going back to the Overworld sooner or later. And this might be a good easing in. I’d just be there less than a day. Plus, you said Dream would have his friend with him so I’m sure Dream wouldn’t mind you having one too.”

“Oh!… Then-Then yes! If you could!” XD felt his heart lift with excitement. “It wouldn’t be unfair of me to have company. And Dream likes you! So it’ll be perfect!”

For the first time in a while, XD felt excited on the idea of meeting with Dream. Years of mistakes XD promised he would make right, and he’d help Dream through whatever he was going through. It wouldn’t be too late. XD promised himself he’d fix this.

#dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #lee!dreamxd #ler!georgehd #covenofwords #godsiblingau

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judyfromfinance · 2 years

Text

Olden Times. Modern Thinking.

(Heimdall/Modern!Reader)

Summary: You know things you’re not supposed to. You behave oddly. And the way you speak is even odder. Kratos, Mimir, and Atreus have no idea if they should believe your ramblings of another world and of a future they have no way of knowing is real. But, you seem harmless enough. Plus, Faye may rise from her grave if they let a poor woman freeze to death in their forest, right outside their home no less.

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 4

This new world you found yourself in was so vast, and so so terrifying at the same time. Beautiful but other worldly. Like it shouldn’t be real and yet here you are. Witnessing it with your own eyes. You were walking along the spindly branches of the world tree as you followed Sindri to his home. You stared out into the vast periwinkle void and you could’ve sworn you felt something stare back. You think back to your earlier thoughts. Beautiful yet terrifying. Lovecraftian in a sense, but some of his work was based off of Norse mythology so I guess calling something Lovecraftian that existed before him and even may have given him inspiration was just not right. But hey, it made sense in your head.

After Atreus came back in from his talk with Odin, Kratos showed up a couple of minutes after. They got into a slight argument, as they tend to do, and then Kratos decided that it was best to see what had gotten his boy so wrapped up that it would cause him to lie to his own father. But of course that left you, a mortal that could barely use a sword and could definitely not scale cliffs as easily as the two gods before you. “I can just stay here if you want?” Kratos just shook his before continuing to think. “They might come after you again.” He stated. You shook slightly at the thought. Atreus looked at with concern but you saw a twinkle of something else. Curiosity. He took a couple of cautious steps towards you. “Why were they here? What did they talk about?” He questioned. You knew what he really wanted to ask though. What could those gods possibly want with you? And again, just like when you first met them, you told them the truth.

“They think that I can help them prevent Ragnarök somehow.” You turned on your heel as you paced back and forth. You looked back up at them with a sigh of exasperation. “I don’t know how they knew but they knew! They knew I wasn’t from here. I don’t know exactly how much they know because our conversation didn’t get that far.” You think back to your fear ridden self. Your first thought was to get out of there. Not about possibly getting answers of your own. “I don’t know why they would think that but… I don’t know… I’m just really confused right now. I’m sorry.” You mutter softly. You felt like a burden. Not only are you slightly messing up the timeline, though they don’t know that, but you can’t even help them with their problems. They saved your life. They fed you. They clothed you. They gave you a warm bed and helped teach you about this land and all you can say is ‘I don’t know’ and ‘I’m sorry.’ Maybe… maybe you should finally tell them. But how would you even go about explaining it. ‘Hey your whole life’s a video game for other people’s entertainment!’ just wouldn’t cut it. As your mind began to spiral you heard a soft spoken voice speak up.

“She’ll be safe at our house.” Everyone turns to look at the dwarf in the doorway. Sindri smiled and waved. “All of you are welcome actually. You probably need a new place to lay your heads since this one is… well…” he looked towards the hole in the roof. “Compromised. Heh.”

And that’s what lead you to know. Walking through this mystical looking void, trying desperately not to peek over the edges of the branches. The thought of tumbling over your own feet and falling to your death in an endless void making you sick to your stomach. Sindri turns back around to you and starts up a conversation. “Me and my brother don’t often have visitors so this will be new and exciting. Hopefully? Just uh… wipe your feet off before you enter. If you can?” You nod your head in acknowledgment. “Yea I can do that. I can leave my shoes at the front door if you want? Don’t really need them inside tracking mud and melted snow anyways.” He stops before you, hands on his hips and a slight smile on his face. “That’s actually a great idea. I should implement that. Thank you!” You giggle before gasping in shock. A bright white light in the shape of a door appears before you. Sindri ushers you forward as you slowly push yourself through the mist. It felt tingly. Like when you scrub your sock covered feet against the carpet and go to poke at someone. But instead it’s all over your body. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s quite shocking nonetheless. Sindri follows behind you.

“By they way, I think we may have found some items that belong to you.” You furrowed your brow. Confused on what he could have that might belong to you. “What do you mean?” He goes to open the door of his grand treehouse. Taking off his heavy duty boots as he continued, “Well Atreus told me a lot about you. How you may not be of this world and well, Brok and I have found some…” he swallows as he tilts his head. “Unusual items on some of our scavenging expeditions. So I’m just assuming here.” He turns quickly towards you with his hands raised high as you unbuckle your boots. “Of course I could be wrong so if I am I apologize for over stepping.” You place your boots next to his as you wave your hand at him. “Don’t worry about it dude. It’s fine. But I’d like to see them if you don’t mind.” He nods before another burly voice interrupts him.

“So you’re that weird mortal girl they found on deaths doorstep.” Brok looks you up and down behind his smithing station and huffs. “Yea, you look like you wouldn’t be able to survive a greasy warthog tooting at ya, let alone Fimbulwinter.” Sindri gasps before turning to you. “I am so sorry. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by that.”

“Like hell I did!” You couldn’t stop the laughter as it burst forth. You grasped your knees as your stomach started to ache. Honestly, what he said wasn’t even that funny but you couldn’t help but feel a slight weight be lifted off of you at his strange behavior and odd idioms. You calmed down before apologizing. “I’m sorry, that was just…” you shook your head as you tried to find words to describe your thoughts. “I don’t know man, that was just fucking funny I guess.” Sindri looked appalled at your foul language as Brok bellowed out a laugh not to dissimilar from your own. “I like this one. Well come on then! We haven’t got all day, you wanna see those odd contraptions or not?” You nod enthusiastically as you make your way over to him. He bends down and grabs a big wooden box. “I can tell one of them is a bag but it’s definitely an odd looking one. Don’t know what’s in it. Didn’t care enough to open it and the other one?” He just shrugs. “Fuck if I know what that damn thing is. It gets bright sometimes that’s all I know.” You nodded as you opened the box.

“Oh my god! It’s all my shit! Holy fuck thank you! How did it even get here? Where did y’all find it?” You shouted in shock and awe. Brok laughed his ass off as Sindri sighed. “Do you always speak like that?” You nod your head but apologized to him anyways. This was his home after all. You grab your pink and blue Little Twin Stars mini backpack. It had dirt smudges everywhere and a couple of claw marks. Looked like an animal tried to get into it but gave up halfway. It wasn’t as pristine as you usually kept it back at home but it was here! In your hands! You push it to the sides for now. As you look into the box and swiped your phone. You could cry. It was your phone! Fuck what everyone else said about the evils of material goods in the modern world. You spent good, hard earned money on these things. Of course you’re gonna enjoy them! You’re a material girl in a material world and that’s all you’ll ever wanna be. And you won’t feel sorry about it either. You turned your phone over and looked at the the pink Cardcaptor Sakura phone case. You looked at your phone charms dangling on the side. Toro Inoue and Pipimi and Popuko. They were dirty but fine. You then look towards the screen. Sadly it was cracked. Starting from the left corner down to about halfway down the screen in a spiderweb like fashion. Thankfully though, you had a screen protector. Your iPhone recognized your face as it opened up and you were bombarded with notifications from all of your apps. You began going through them, not even giving a second thought to how your phone is possibly working here at all. Sindri and Brok flanked both sides of you as they watched your fingers slide across the screen. Moving bright little boxes with words they couldn’t understand. Brok, starting to get restless, slapped your shoulder and asked “What the hel is that thing?” Sindri nodded, “I would very much like to know too.”

“Oh my god I’m so sorry. I just got really excited. Um…” you try to think of a way to explain what a phone is to people that don’t even know what technology is. “How do I put this? This is a phone. It allows me to contact people from far away. So say I was here with you guys and let’s say Atreus was all the way across Midgard right and he uh, he also had one of these. We would be able to talk to each other no problem.” Now that you’re hearing yourself out loud you cringe a bit. Describing how things worked or what things did was never your forte. If anyone back at home were to ask you to explain anything you’d hit them with a “I don’t know. Google it.” Sadly, you can’t really do that here. And you can tell that you explanation wasn’t all that great as they still looked confused.

“How does that work? And how can you control all those things with your fingers? Can it do anything else? One day it stated to make a, in my opinion, grating noise. Why did it do that?” Sindri just piled on question after question. And you felt bad because you didn’t know if you’d be able to answer all of them. Brok noticing your exasperation slapped Sindri on the back as he moved around the table. “Give the girl some room. You starting to sound like an ingreased cog.” Sindri stumbled forward as he turned to glare at Brok. “Ow.” He huffed before Turing back towards you. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head and smiled. “No need to apologize. I get it. It’s something new and interesting. You want to know more about it and I don’t blame you. But even though this is mine I don’t know how everything in it works. I just know that it does.” He shuffles forward towards a small door. “I understand. Here, this used to be a broom closet but we renovated it slightly to be a room. I know it’s not the best thing in the world but it’s a place to lay your head.” You peek into the room with a smile on your face. Definitely still is a broom closet if the mop in the corner was anything to go by. But the bed on the other size of the room that seemed to be the perfect size for you was nothing to sneeze at. “It’s perfect Sindri. Thank you.” You turn towards Brok. “And thank you too.” You grab your backpack and the bag you brought with you from the cabin and set them right next to your bed. You turn towards the door and looked at the Huldra brothers with a fond smile.

“I hope you don’t mind but I think I’m gonna sleep for a bit. It’s been a pretty eventful day.” Brok nodded before leaving. You can hear the sound of hammering start back up on the other side of the wall. Sindri smiles, “Of course.” He goes to close the door before peeking his head back in and saying a quick, “Sweet dreams.” He blushes before slamming the door closed. You hear him mutter something before scampering away. Brok lets put a hefty laugh, making fun of his brother’s embarrassment. You lay down and stare at the ceiling. You hear Sindri leave through the front door. Most likely to bring Kratos and Atreus back to their newfound home. You bring your phone back up to your face. And open it. You click on an app that you know all too well. As you scroll through all the different fanart of the very same characters that you are sharing a home with your struck with the sudden fear that your gonna have to come up with some way to help these people. You can’t let any of them die. But again, what can a mortal do amongst gods? You have the advantage of knowing what is going to happen and when. But how good is that when these gods can easily over power you and kill you. You have to tell them. You have to tell them everything. They’ll be able to help you come up with a game plan. You sigh as you turn off your phone and turn to your side. Staring at the stationary mop and bucket of water. You just hope that Kratos will listen to you. You hope that they all will. And maybe, maybe they won’t be mad. God help you.

Sorry this took so long y’all. My sisters been letting me use her pc and I’ve been playing Stardew Valley with a bunch of different mods and loving it! There’s a mod that make Toshinori Yagi a marriageable character and AAAAAAA I love him. Anyways hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Let me know what y’all think in the tags or the comments. Thank you~

Taglist: @zoleea-exultant @sumebuddy @sissontrinity123 @different4black @vknr @slaying69696969 @dont-mind-me27 @dijanur @frog-cultist @jamallemal @star-angel1 @mrsurrealism @ladysaribu @shirocchi13 @noxiemoon @fullmoonwolfer1 @forg1 @onix-a @silvergoldraeven @inky-weeaboo-weirdo14 @fandomcatchall @itsanimetimeeeee @lmorg149 @doubledaredevil @screaming-potato @6demonica9 @einsvei @mad4hugs @oreocookie24 @mr-trick @lunaryasha @rustypotatospork @love-giselle @entityunbound @nixeustheclamity @majestichugs @blazingstarsblog @cheesewithasideofcheese @photos-fantasy-and-scifi @shycandykitty @photographykomiko @thatonetransformersfan @lunamomo @romanzpixxa-blog @violet2507

#Olden Times. Modern Thinking.#heimdall x reader #god of war ragnarok x reader #god of war x reader #heimdall gow x reader #gow reader insert

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atoriv-art · 1 month

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asks

putting these above the readmore because otherwise i will be speaking into the void

fave. grouping these together to say: i do read fanfic on occasion but it's usually filtered through a friend of mine who reads far more than i do! ie, she reads stuff and sends me what she likes

however she did say that i could tell people to link me things so she can read through them. so feel free to link me whatever in the replies/asks/idk. no promises i will be the one reading it LMAO but we have very similar tastes in characters/pairings and also the types of fics we like 👍

i actually gravitate towards gen fics which are a dying breed lol but you can link whatever you want <3

anyway. under the cut: misc asks, sasuneji 💕, also a tiny hyuga ramble

this is so late LMAO sorry, its all in my old blog @atoriv-moved ! haven't deleted any of it so if anything happened it's tumblr's fault. i miss kingdom hearts i need luxu to be in things again so i can go crazy :/

thank you so much!!! 😭😭 it always makes me happy to hear the emotional weight of my work comes through! it's what i'm always trying to improve to make the little scenes in my head real :)

thank you!!!! i never know what to say to these but they always make me smile 8)

thank you so much!! honestly noses still give me trouble sometimes but as someone who is particular about trying to properly translate 3D shapes, especially of the face, in my rendering it's probably one of the most important landmarks :P and i think you can enhance a design sooo much with them, despite my struggles they're one of my favorite things to draw now!

i totally encourage you to start drawing again if you want to! but i'm biased of course hehe

cute i never know how to answer these... maybe a little boring but i'm of the opinion sasuke is the clingier one in the rs :)

he's a very loving person but because of both his personality and collection of issues he struggles to fully articulate his thoughts in a manner that doesn't come off as rude or detached, but imo sasuke esp once he's out of his spiral would hate to have his love go unexpressed. so i think him having trouble with words and making up for it with flopping onto the people he loves like a large dog is sooooo cute, and i always think about how clingy he was as a baby.. he is made for latching onto people and wiggling them with a 😐 face

neji on the other hand is Weird About Intimacy since he's trained himself to be self-sufficient, and is hyperaware of how other people might perceive him due to him having to calibrate himself around his family. neji is very principled and especially when he's older won't let his anxieties keep him from doing something he believes in, but it gets a little more complicated when it comes to his personal relationships because for 90% of his life he had no hope of fostering those. so he ends up in a weird middle ground where he Does allow himself to express some of those feelings, but not fully, and often in a very self-conscious manner. his default answer to vulnerability is fluffing up like a cat because that's what's he's trained himself to do lol

so with these two in particular i think it'd combo into a lot of "flopping onto you like a weighed blanket because you're upset and i don't know what to say but i want to be here for you" situations, especially with sasuke doing it to neji because neji struggles with verbally articulating when he needs comfort like that. i think it works wonders for them because sometimes words get really messy when you have their combination of issues... it doesn't mean they can't talk through their problems of course, it just means that if something can be solved by the cat loaf maneuver it will be :)

not reading too much into it at all, i love it! i like how much people talk about my kabuto hahaha i really want to draw him more often, i think he's a way more interesting character than he's given credit for (and this is coming from someone who really didn't like him at first :P), and his hairstyle change is one of the most obvious ways to explore that visually imo!

tysm for this, i really enjoyed reading it!

i do! i wish more was done with her because i'm really fascinated by the implications of how she's presented, and how she could've shown that being the favorite child of someone like hiashi isn't necessarily a good thing! i always thought she seems like she's a little dissociated from life outside of the clan, which is really fun to work with (and definitely sucks for her because the clan is Not good lol)

i haven't gotten through the arduous task of watching all naruto filler (lmao) but one of my favorites is the one about hanabi and her relationship with hinata, especially the first half, episode 389 i think? i'm really obsessed with the way that episode shows what day-to-day life was like for the kids and the way the hyuga structure themselves, and how it creates distance between them. i'm pretty sure it implies hanabi (pre-plot) didn't know who neji is, for example? which i get isn't canon but i looove that thought. and on a less deep note hanabi is one of the few characters who gets a design i actually like in boruto! i think she looks soooooo cute

since i spend a lot of time thinking about them i actually am fond of all of the hyuga to some capacity, hiashi definitely in a "wow this guy sucks so much it's impressive" way but still lol i think his relationship with his brother and how it informs how he regards neji is very fascinating, or at least the directions it could have taken (if kishi cared at all.) are!

see my problem is that i wish naruto was about weird families and their issues (i am also obsessed with the suna family <3), but it is a shonen anime made for normal audiences

#asks #not art

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no-light-left-on · 9 months

Text

1k words of pure, self indulgent corvosider fluff post-doto, early into their relationship

The mattress dips as Corvo crawls on the bed behind the Outsider – he does little as Corvo wraps an arm around his waist and presses a kiss to his hair, far too preoccupied with the text of the novel. He turns the page, smiling as Corvo presses closer, his broad chest against the Outsider’s back, and kisses down the back of his neck until he can bury his face into his shoulder. He pulls the Outsider closer until there is no space left, his hand large enough to cover his stomach, and he rubs little circles into his side. His hand does not stay long, though, restless as fingers catch on pearl buttons and the Outsider pauses.

Corvo’s hand dips under the silk fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the belt.

“Corvo,” the Outsider says, somewhere between a plea and a warning as his hand shoots to Corvo’s. The hold around him eases and the Outsider curses himself as Corvo’s warmth gets further.

“I’m sorry.” Corvo rolls away, his weight no longer on top of the Outsider’s, though the Outsider is quick to follow as he rolls on his back to face him.

The Outsider kisses his shoulder, a chaste little peace offering. “No, no- it’s okay. No need to apologise.”

Still, Corvo remains tense, propped up on his elbow. There is too much distance between them now.

The Outsider reaches out, pressing his thumb between Corvo’s brows to smooth his wrinkles out. They sit heavy over his forehead, and while most would read them as the lord protector’s stern gaze, the Outsider knows them for what they are. Anxiety.

“You did nothing wrong,” he assures, but something else sits atop the worry. An old vulnerability of Corvo’s, and a new one, too.

“You’re always so skittish when we get physical,” Corvo states. He does not pose a question next, knows he doesn’t need to. The Outsider reads him like an open book.

Am I too old? Is it the age? Or is it me?

The Outsider cups his cheek, his beard prickling his palm, and as he brushes his thumb over an old scar on Corvo’s cheek, Corvo’s breath catches.

Are you repulsed by what you might find under?

The Outsider takes a deep breath, screws his eyes shut as he feels his stomach drop. His core feels like it is being swallowed by the Void as he speaks. “Corvo, I’m just not interested.”

He knows the words he chose were wrong the moment they leave his mouth.

“In me?” Corvo asks, tentative and cautious.

“In sex.”

Oh. Oh.

“Oh,” Corvo says with all the eloquence of a noble and the father of the empress. The tension dissipates out of his muscles.

“Yeah.”

“At all?”

“At all.”

Corvo laughs, startled and relieved, then buries his face back in the Outsider’s shoulder.

“That was a horrid way to phrase it,” he mutters into the silks as the Outsider combs his fingers through his hair.

“I’ve never been known to speak with other people’s emotions in mind,” the Outsider says as an apology. It is not one, but it will do.

“One day you’ll be the death of me,” Corvo whispers.

“I am honoured that you wish to keep me around for that long.”

They fall silent, with Corvo’s head resting on the Outsider’s chest, lulled by the beating of his painfully human heart.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“What for?” the Outsider asks.

“For trying to get physical.” Corvo shifts, suddenly far too aware of the thinness of the Outsider’s shirt, of his own hand on his belly, their intertwined legs. “It didn’t even cross my mind that you-”

The Outsider catches his face, cupping both cheeks in his cold hands, their eyes meeting. “Corvo.” The sound of his name stops Corvo’s rambling, intent and captivating the same way it was during the bad old days at the shrines. “You didn’t know. I never told you. I didn’t even intend on telling you this soon. Most humans don’t feel this way, and you had no way of simply figuring it out, not with how close I let you. Please, do not feel bad.” He takes a deep breath. His stomach turns, empty yet heavy like he’s drank the cold water of the Wrenhaven. “This is- I do not know where to begin explaining this. But take it as… it is just another odd quirk of mine. I don’t know.”

“Mio,” Corvo coos. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“I feel like I have to,” the Outsider admits. “We both know that I am voidawful at this whole being human business. I only ever had the opportunity to watch, but there is so very little I remember of how to feel, and experience, and live, and all that I seem to do now is so very other to how humans have been for all those centuries I spent watching. And this is no different, I suppose. But this time it involves you, too.”

Corvo opens his mouth to argue, stops. “I don’t mind that you feel different about these things,” he settles on. “I’m just glad you told me.”

“I had to.” For you and for myself, both. The thought of it is too raw. The Outsider grins and instead says: “You always looked like a kicked pup when I smacked your hand away.”

Corvo gapes and the Outsider smiles wider.

“Or like a wolfhound that just got scolded for trying to eat without permission,” he teases.

“Mio-”

“Whenever I told you off you looked at me like a wolfhound begging for a piece of steak.”

“Mio!”

The Outsider bursts out laughing as blood rushes into Corvo’s cheeks. “Oh, feared Lord Protector, if only the nobles of Dunwall saw how easily you melt for me-” He yelps as Corvo buries his face into the crook of his neck, his beard prickling the tender skin, and the sensation makes him laugh harder. Corvo holds him down, pinning him into the pillows as the Outsider kicks out, struggling and giggling and pushing at Corvo’s shoulders as Corvo kisses the bare skin and nuzzles his collarbone.

This, he could get used to.

#dishonored #dh #corvosider #corvo attano #the outsider #writing #I am dumping all my weird complicated feelings on the outsider dont come after me I might cry #there was gonna be more but then I sidetracked by a ton #dont ask me what this is I have no idea #inspired by tags by icedjuiceboxes actually they got me thinking about expressing all these weirdass thoughts and feelings #anyways uh. yeah.#take this from me before i chicken out #whale song au #(technically)#writing tag

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kandidandi · 1 year

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God I have been thinking so much about your ysf au and the comment of Moon attempting to get rid of his claws more or less unleashed the brainworms on HOW Moon would get rid of them (First time I had to jot down notes for an idea). Dis ask is gonna be slightly long since I've got 4-ish different scenarios, which are dependent on the structure of Moon's body and the tools available wherever he locked himself in.

1st scenario

Assuming that his jaw can move and his teeth are metal (or something with similar properties), he'll bite the tips of his fingers off, like how humans can. Now that he has bitten off his claws, realization would set in that his teeth are also dangerous. 2 possible ways to neturalizing the danger; 1. He rips his teeth n jaw out (getting rid of the danger) or 2. Locking his jaw shut (no opening, no danger). 2nd way has lesser consequences, since nothing would be exposed. 1st way would eventually lead to total dismantlement, ripping out the jaw would just expose more hazards and removing those new hazards would just start the Domino effect.

2nd scenario

Assuming that the claws are retractable, easier to just rip them off (thats it honestly, not much destruction here)

3rd scenario

Jaw won't open and claws are built into endoskeleton. Moon would either break them off (difficult due to claws having a tiny surface area) orr slowly file them down. Hopefully he has access to a metal file so the process of filing dem claws don't take as long. If not, well, it's a longgg and agonizingly slow process of filing his claws slowly on the concrete floors/ceramic tiled floors to the point that his fingertips are blunt.

4th scenario

Basically he finds a hole small enough to fit part of his claw into and just snaps it off using leverage.

1st scenario is a quick route to straight up dismantling himself (biting fingers off just leaves for more dangers present, with the wires and such).

3rd scenario is my favourite, just cause of the potential agony both AIs would face (and also the amount time I spent thinking about this single scene).

Moon's need to rid the danger is so so very urgent, but process of filing can't be sped up, so much so when you don't even have the right equipment. Even better if there are 'pain receptors' in the fingers (am I evil? Kinda). Moon having to bear such slow pain while also having the time to constantly recall the scene with the actions that disfigured y/n and thinking of all afternaths that can happen, as he's filling them off. The constant repeating noise of scratching against the floor wouldn't drive Moon insane, but for Sun it definitely would.

With Moon ignoring Sun in every capacity, Sun is left hearing this noise. He could turn off his audio receptors sure, but the noiseless void would be much much worse. So he bears listening to this noise, fully knowing what's making it and the reason for its existence

In short, Moon drowns in regret n guilt; Sun is alone with the noise being his only company, along with his thoughts. Both of them going too deep for either of them to help each other in time.

----------------------------------------------

Rambling over wheew. Did I spend too much time thinking about this? Yes. Will I regret some of my takes later? Definitely

Spent about an hour or 2 writing this idea out, which went out of hand honestly speaking. Sorry if the wall of text is disorientating, my brain doesn't enjoy words to be wording right in general. Anyway it's about 4am for me sooo, Guten Nacht!! o7

-beep boop.

OH MAAN PAINGE THIS IS SO GOOD SFDHFDS yes i like the third option the most but man the other ones are insane aswell thanks for this massive ask btw woah /gen /pos

#ask kandidandi #modellingispainge #ysf #i love this #holy shit #man #poor dca #thees poor guys #tw self harm #cw self harm

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majorproblems77 · 4 months

Text

Bonus links update! Which means it's analysis time! (Only slightly late haha)

Hi all!

I emerge from the void! Exams are a doozy man, but here i am, And i am ready to analyse the hell out of this update cause ohhh man stuff is happening and I'm loving it.

For the important stuff! All art belongs to @bonus-links and the artist @ezdotjpg. Please go and look at their other stuff too! And I once again thank you for letting me do these. Its awesome to be able to ramble about things like this.

Find the original comic here! go reblog it, please? For me? :D

It's so much fun!

Okay

Grab some popcorn and some water because we hydrate here. LETS GOOOOO

Slate taking pictures of all the plants and stuff is so sweet! I love them.

Shout out to the pig picture, it's so cuteeeeeee

The lil bug carrying his bag is giving me actual life okay i love him smsm

Just

Look at this little guy he is beloved, number 1 sidekick you can't stop me and my beetle propaganda

Speaking of little guys

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

MY LITTLE GUYYYYYY

HE IS SO PRETTY I LOVE HIM :D

And I love his little headband hello that's the sweetest lil thing? did he bring that with him? Did Aryll give him one to useee?

were you not expecting me to yell about loft in the first panel I could? Then you came to the wrong post friend! :DDDDDDDD

ANYYYYY WAY

These two defo need to talk about it at one point, maybe after the entire team is together? Having a divide like this (While 100% understandable, loft was kinda a dick about it) will impact things.

Makes me wonder how it's gonna work. Will someone snap some sense into them? Will someone get hurt because they were arguing?

We know they dont really get along too well so I feel like this is the beginning of a greater arc with these two.

Poor loft, he wants to make amends. Maybe try again in a bit? You'll get it.

This made me chuckle, when in doubt, wolf is there to assist.

Also, these two have no beef, do we know if Wake knows the wolf from his adventure? I cant actually remember if it was mentioned at all. It would explain why he's so willing to apologise to him and not Loft.

Aryll!

I love Aryll she is wonderful and deserves the world.

As peony should, because peony is wonderful

WAKE IS IN TROUBLE

Tetra's face gives me, as soon as you finish talking I am going to grab you and shake you like a bag of potatoes while asking you a million and one questions.

Small Aryll hiding like that gives so much little sister energy i love her so much okay.

oh... OH

WHO IS THAT?

SLATE? Who is sheeee? A sister?

Alsoooo, She looks an awful lot like loft....

More on this in a minute cause I've got a whole thing.

Peony pulling them back from the memory, this is why i love her okay. She's wonderful.

Okay okay okay I am excited about this so hear me outtttttt

I have a theory

Loft reminds Slate of a family member. More specifically his sister.

Thats why they are so cold to him.

So, it's not just me right? There's a resemblance here. The way the hair falls and the colour.

ESPECIALLY WITH THE HEADBAND THAT LOFT HASNT WORN UNTIL NOW.

If Loft got given that headband by someone here as he was helping and now that Slate has seen him wearing it and also not he's had this memory it would explain why he looks to the side like that.

He's looking in the direction that Loft left the screen, perhaps looking for him...

The response from Slate might be a trauma response without them realising it. He's acting cold to Loft because he reminds him of a member of his family that he can't put a face too.

Just a thought of course.

Thats all from me! :D

Have a great day yeah?

(Again sorry this is a little later than normal, I've been head's deep in exam revision for weeks now haha.)

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tawus · 9 months

Note

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OH MY GOD! This year has been a rollercoaster for me. Mid-terms were kicking my butt, I attended my grandfather’s funeral, then finals showed up out of nowhere to drag me back to hell. I apologize in advance for the grammar. 😣

Edit however you like, I won't mind and I hope that you enjoy reading~! :D

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO TAWUS & SATORU~<3

It was the day after Christmas, December 25th, 2017. Geto Suguru’s death was confirmed and you can help but feel a heavy burden in the air despite the freshly romantic season.

Now, you’re sitting in front of Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, who’s also your husband. Eating lunch with your lover seems to be the same as it generally goes. He was rambling on and on about trying new sweets for the upcoming new year. It seemed as if the death of Geto didn’t affect him as much, but you knew better.

Back when he came home, he just leaned into you, holding you tight. Like a child clinging onto their mother and never wanting to let go.

You held him for the rest of the night as you both slept. Giving him the love, kisses, cuddles, and healing that he wants, deserves and needs. You don’t comment on the droplets of water that shimmer like starlight as they dampen your shirt in the moonlight. Neither his pupils, that were empty like the void. Silent love comforted the both of you as you bathed in each other’s tender embrace on that somber night.

After a few hours of needed slumber, it seemed like last night's waterworks didn’t happen at all. The man in front of you was acting jolly as usual.

“-be? Babe? You there? Oooooiiiiii~?”

“Huh? What?”

“So you weren’t listening to me. I know that you find me captivating and all but you still shouldn’t space out like that when you're listening to someone sweetheart~. Especially if it’s your one and only lover~<3.”

You don’t need him to take off his bandages when you know full well that he’s wiggling his eyebrows underneath them. Letting out a sigh as you chuckled to yourself. His boasting can be cocky at times, but you can’t help but find it endearing. If anything it’s that suave voice of his that can be irritating.

“Sorry about that Satoru, I was just thinking of …… some things. That’s all.”

“Oh~? And what might that be my beloved?”

Satoru noticed that you were feeling a bit nervous but he lets you take your time to speak as he motions his body language to encourage you to tell him what’s on your mind.

“Here. I–I know that it’s already past your birthday and I know it’s late but I wasn’t going to wait for another year to pass by to give you this. Yes, I know that I made cake for you but it felt like I didn’t exactly give you my full efforts. So I made you these instead.”

You took out a black blindfold that had an initial mark that’s stitched bold. On the outside of the fabric it had the name of the person receiving the gift in Kanji, 五条悟.

“Is that? *LE GASP~* Babe! I didn’t realize that you were into that! Oh you naughty little–~”

“Oh my gosh! It’s not like that at all you idiot! I’ve been seeing that you’ve only been using bandages to cover up six-eyes. Putting those bandages on and off again must’ve been tiring and time consuming for you to do that. So I’ve decided to make a blindfold for you to help you with your troubles.”

Getting up, walking over to your husband, you took off the bandages that he wore and put the handmade gift over his head. Nuzzling the fabric to cover his eyes and forehead, combing his hair with your fingers to lift it out his vision of sight. He looked like a paint brush now, you’re not gonna lie.

“The fabric is a mix between polyester & cotton. I did some research on the differences between both fabrics. Turns out while polyester is stronger and a more stretchable fabric than cotton, cotton is more breathable. The pros of both fabrics is that they’re both hydrophobic. Both fabrics were good so I had to go to a store that sold a cotton-polyester blend roll of both fabrics to make this blindfold. I’ve … also made you these gloves.” (Got inspired by the 3rd Picture)

You took out a pair of dark gray gloves, designed with vertical ripple line patterns that went down between each knuckle. A fancy classic wrist strap connected on top with a silver ring to hold the strap. Cladding your beloved's hands, you felt his warm touch and saw the apparent veins as evidence of his hard work as the strongest. Taking a step back to admire the gloves on his person, you put your hands on your hips feeling quite proud of your handcrafted achievements despite not having his opinion yet.

“So? How is it? Comfortable? Does it fit you well? Are your eyes feeling alright? What about the gloves? Are they too tight? I know that you aren’t allergic to polyester so it shouldn’t be itchy. I did quite the research on what kind of fabric to use when I was making these gloves you know. I had to go to a sewing class in advance during spring if I wanted to make these gloves myself. Making them was easy either.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you massage your wrists and hands as you recall the memories of minor injuries and the use of many mini Sanrio bandages.

“You don’t have to use them when you go on the battlefield to exorcise curse spirits. That’s not exactly what they were made for but it’s up to you on how you want to use them. I just wanted to give them to you before the year was over.”

Thank you for this incredible submission and gifts for Satoru! 🤩❤️ As always I’m happy to collab with you on these, please feel free to send more for future holidays too. And no need for apologies, I made the most minimal brush-ups and I just added a bit of an ending with Satoru’s reaction to his presents, I hope you like it 🥰

Hey, still you persevered through 2023! And I’m really sorry for your loss, I lost my grandfather a couple of years ago too. Here’s to healing and a better 2024. Almost no one is out there saying 2024 is gonna be their year anymore lol, but here I am thinking it will be mine 😆

It was the day after Christmas, December 26th, 2017. Geto Suguru’s death was confirmed and you can’t help but feel a heavy burden in the air despite the freshly romantic season.

Now, you’re sitting in front of Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, who’s also your husband. Eating lunch with your lover seems to go the same as it generally does. He was rambling on and on about trying new sweets for the upcoming New Year. It seemed as if the death of Geto didn’t affect him as much. But you knew better.

Back when he came home, he just leaned into you and held you tight. Like a child clinging to their mother, never wanting to let go.

You held him for the rest of the night as you both slept. Giving him the love, kisses, cuddles, and healing that he wanted, deserved and needed. You don’t comment on the droplets that shimmer like starlight as they dampen your shirt in the moon’s glow. Neither on his pupils, which were empty like the void. Silent love comforted the both of you as you bathed in each other’s tender embrace on that somber night.

After a few hours of needed slumber, it seemed like last night's waterworks didn’t happen at all. The man in front of you was acting jolly as usual.

“-be? Babe? You there? Oooooiiiiii~?”

“Huh? What?”

“So you weren’t listening to me. I know you find me captivating and all but you still shouldn’t space out like that when you're listening to someone sweetheart~. Especially if it’s your one and only lover~<3.”

You don’t need him to take off his bandages to know he’s wiggling his brows under them. You let out a sigh as you chuckled to yourself. His boasting can be cocky at times, but you can’t help but find it endearing. If anything it’s that suave voice of his that can be irritating…

“Sorry about that Satoru, I was just thinking of …… some things. That’s all.”

“Oh~? And what might that be, my beloved?”

Satoru notices that you’re feeling a bit nervous, but he lets you take your time to speak and encourages you with his body language to tell him what’s on your mind.

“Here. I–I know that it’s already past your birthday and I know it’s late, but I wasn’t going to wait another year to give you this. Yes I know I made a cake for you, but it felt like I didn’t exactly give you my full efforts. So I made you these instead.”

You took out a black blindfold, which had a mark stitched on it in bold. On the outside of the fabric it had the name of the person receiving the gift in Kanji, 五条悟.

“Is that? *LE GASP~* Babe! I didn’t realize you were into that! Oh you naughty little–~”

“Oh my gosh! It’s not like that at all, you idiot! I’ve been seeing you use bandages to cover up the Six Eyes. Putting those bandages on and off must be tiring, not to mention time-consuming. So I decided to make a blindfold for you to help you with your troubles…”

Getting up, walking over to your husband, you took off the bandages that he wore and put the handmade gift over his head. You nuzzled the fabric to cover his eyes and forehead, and combed his hair back with your fingers to lift it out his sight. He somewhat resembled a paintbrush now, if you were honest.

“The fabric is a mix between polyester and cotton. I did some research on both. Turns out, while polyester is stronger and more stretchable than cotton, cotton is more breathable. The pros of both fabrics is that they’re both hydrophobic, they won’t shrink when wet. Both were good so I had to find a store that sold a cotton-polyester blend roll to make this blindfold. I’ve … also made you these gloves.”

You took out a pair of dark gray gloves, designed with vertical ripple line patterns that went down between each knuckle. A classic wrist strap connected on top with a silver ring to hold the strap. Pulling them on your beloved's hands, you felt his warm touch and saw the apparent veins as evidence of his hard work as the strongest. Taking a step back to admire the gloves on his person, you put your hands on your hips feeling quite proud of your handcrafted achievements despite not having his opinion just yet.

“So? How is it? Comfortable? Does it fit you well? Are your eyes feeling all right? What about the gloves? Are they too tight? I know you aren’t allergic to polyester so it shouldn’t be itchy. I did quite the research on what kind of fabric to use when I was making the gloves too, you know. I had to go to a sewing class in advance during spring if I wanted to make these gloves myself. Making them wasn’t easy either...”

You sigh lightly as you massage your wrists and hands, recalling the memories of minor injuries and the use of countless mini Sanrio bandages.

It only now struck you how quiet he’d been all this while.

“Sorry, I seem to have rambled…” you peer out at him gingerly, as a worry tugs at your heart that maybe he hates your presents, after all. That maybe he considers them pointless. Maybe he’s thinking he could buy himself a million of those if he wanted...

But not a second before you lift your head that you get crushed in a tight hug – the kind where Satoru forgets how strong he is and nearly suffocates you with his love. He doesn’t hear your muffled pleas for air since his own voice is booming through the room.

“BABYYY! I love them! I can’t believe you made them yourself! I want to wear them every day! But also never, because what if they tear? Oh wait no, I’ll protect them with Infinity! But what if someone still manages to tear one of them during a fight? I’d have to grind them to dust obviously, but will you mend them for me? I’ll ask Shoko to heal your hands from all the boo-boos! But still, I can’t believe you made them for me! You must really love me! Although you did already tell me like a year ago you love me... But this is, this is like, living proof!”

Evidently it was his turn to ramble now, so it took him a while to finally release you from his bear hug and place his gloved hands instead on your cheeks, holding your face close.

“Thank you.”

It was only two words now that left his beautiful lips, nothing more, but the deep heartfelt emotion with which he said them, in a voice only for you to hear, made them worth a million.

Feeling for yourself the tenderness of the gloves, sensing him conduct his warmth into you through them, and not seeing but feeling his wide-open eyes behind the blindfold you’d made for him – happiness overwhelmed you. Tears filled your eyes and you grinned as wide as your mouth would allow.

“I’m really glad you like them, Satoru.”

#ask tawus #mokona #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #gojo jjk #jjk #gojo satoru imagine #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru headcanons #christmas

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mooremars · 1 year

Text

Camelot 2023 Act 2 ramblings about the music and book and also the visuals again because turns out one post wasn't enough.

I still cannot possibly recommend anyone actually read this because it is so absurdly, comically long but I still needed to get even more feelings out.

Act 2, Scene 1: The castle courtyard one year later:

• "We shouldn't be alone together" like girl

• I love how she's almost exasperated by it

• When she fantasized about this all-consuming high-stakes love she probably didn't think about how exhausting it would be to actually live with it all the time

• Like having this conversation every single month does sound exhausting

• The way she's actively trying to drive him out of Camelot, Genny is so much and I respect it

• She's really doing her best in a way that involves truly torturing Lance, he should really do some soul searching about why he loves someone who treats him this way

• "I've trained dogs to chase you"/"And those dogs were fast.. the expression his bark is worse than his bite that wasn't my experience"

• Sorkin slightly breaking the tension of this scene which is so needed

• "You're not English"/"Neither are you"/"I think that changed when I became queen of England"

• I also feel like there is a lot to unpack in this exchange

• "And when would I do that Genny?"

• The angst in that delivery

• If Ever I Should Leave You is so gorgeous

• I think it was Sorkin who basically said that the show doesn't need magic because the songs provide enough magic on their own and this is the perfect example

• Jordan Donica is tremendous

• I knew him from Charmed and it took me a bit to place him but holy shit

• I may have actually seen him before, I'd have to check but regardless I need to be paying attention to literally any theater he does because I want to go

• This applies to all of them, who am I kidding

• Anyway, he's amazing here and I am probably underselling him in this post because I only saw him half the times and so my memories are much less clear

• And my reference is closing which was not him by this point

• And the outro music (? sorry I know nothing about music) is absolutely stunning

• This song is so romantic but also very shallow

• They're fulfilling a version of love that is all big gestures and big feelings but not necessarily substance

• Because they're trying to fill a void in themselves using the other and when you do that, you can't see the person as an actual person

• Just an extension of your unmet need

• Which is too bad because I think if they weren't, they might actually like each other

• But fuck is this song so romantic

• Every lyric is good, the way they're sung, I think I may for the first time have use of the phrase swoon worthy

• Specifically the end

• "I have a thrilling engagement. I'm giving prizes at the potato show. I'm eager to find out what the qualities of a prize winning potato are"/"I'll be at your side Ma'am"/"Thank goodness for that, those potatoes can be dangerous"

• The lines are so funny and her delivery is so heartbreaking, I am suffering

• I do just love Genny so much and she deserves happiness dammit

• "So the rumors are true, the chain of wedlock is so heavy in Camelot it takes three to carry it"

• Mordred coming out with the one liners immediately

• "He's willing to make any old man a knight I see"

• Pelli immediately threatening violence, beautiful

• The whininess of "I shall be busy tomorrow afternoon" and slapping the bench

• Fourteen year old edgelord Mordred

• Very interesting to have him be a year younger than Arthur was when he became king, really underscoring how young he was

• "I was raising by a mother with a fatally broken heart. Makes for a dark childhood"

• Like do we think Mordred is just trying to drum up Arthur's sympathies or is this actually true?

• "And when you speak to the king, you should remember you're speaking to the king"

• Arthur literally never insists on any manner of kingly respect but his son is a little shit that he hates, so he will

• Love that

• "Dispatch to the court, the king has a child he fathered out of wedlock. Problem solved."

• The blackmail just instantly failing is very funny

• Also would love to know how the conversation about this between Genny and Arthur went

• "I'm not ashamed of you. You don't embarass me though it's not for lack of trying."

• That's too generous, Mordred is embarrassing

• "It's always been my wish that you and your mother stay here where I can take care of you both"/"Stay where, in the servants' quarters?"/"In any quarters you like"/"Except the queen's"

• I wonder if Mordred is the one who feels this way or if he's just parroting back what Morgan has said

• "I was a boy when I met your mother"/"And my mother turned you into a man"/"A man named Merlyn turned me into a man"/"That's a new bit of palace gossip"/"No you idiot, he was my teacher"

• Obviously sarcastic Arthur is always a treat and specifically the facial expression and tone of no you idiot

• But just so curious about Morgan and Arthur because Arthur gets pissed at that whole turned into a man bit

• And he has been pretty chill with Mordred being terrible for this whole scene

• He's very much not comfortable with what Mordred is saying and this is the only moment where Mordred gets under his skin and like that is very interesting

• "In this place the law applies equally to everyone"/"Even the king and queen?"/"Especially the king and queen"

• You are literally watching the light bulb pop over Mordred's head and it's played perfectly

• Everyone in this cast is perfect

• The Seven Deadly Virtues has no right to be this funny

• "Making my Beelzebubble burst" is my favorite but really this entire song is great

• It's such a petulant performance and it's perfect

Act 2, Scene 2: The King's study

• Another amazing bit of scene change music

• The intimacy of them spending their evening playing chess together and talking

• Presumably this is just what they do on a lot of nights and I love it

• I feel like there's definitely potential in a their relationship through chess fic

• Someone please

• I firmly believe they are at like a full 50-50 split in terms of who wins

• "Are you really reading while you're chasing me around the board?"/"Sorry I didn't hear you, I was reading and chasing you around the board"

• And his okay in the middle like he knows he set himself up to get mocked

• Making fun of each other is one of my favorite love languages

• Also same structure as Arthur telling her it will seem that she's rooting for Lancelot to lose and she says that's because she is rooting for Lancelot to lose

• It's just a fun little dialouge thing that I enjoy Genny doing

• Makes her lines feel hers

• I love that Arthur has Merlyn's final warning on his mind so naturally he consults Genny

• And then it devolving into a philosophical discussion about what is and is not possible

• "I was 10,000th person to try, how do you explain that?"/"9,999 people loosened it"

• A perfect and funny line that becomes sweet and profound later on, I will never not love that

• "We have greatness in our grasp, humanity does, but for some reason every time we see it we assign the responsibility to some supernatural force. Or to god."

• You would think given the structure of the love triangle that Arthur would be set up to scoff at the idea that god has responsibility for human greatness in contrast to Lance being extremely devout

• And like I do think Arthur and Genny are actually on the same page but I enjoy that she gets to voice that thought

• This is the woman who first ran away and then threw prayer on top after as a little afterthought so yeah perhaps Genny is not the best catholic

• "Perhaps when he died, his soul transmogrified-"/"What did I just say?"

• Arthur immediately needling her and doing that stupid little hand motion on transmogrified

• They're adorable

• "I enjoy seeing you get riled up"

• This is what you say to a woman you're about to call your business partner? In that way?

• I don't know who to blame because I can't tell if the line or delivery is more of the culprit

• No it's the delivery, I have literally put in the audio as proof

• The audacity, I'm obsessed

• He's got it so bad

• Could've had this Genny

• Like Mr. Purity of Soul who thinks women can't possibly understand politics has absolutely never considered the concept of female pleasure, for sure has never heard of foreplay, and definitely believes the clit and g-spot are both myths

• I love Lance but proposition: there's no way that man is good in bed

• Everything else mean I've said about Lance has been out of love but I love Genny and she doesn't deserve mediocre dick

• And yet he's playing by Jordan Donica so it is also valid and understandable

• Sorry, I digress but gotta find the humor in the whole none of them get to be happy business

• But actually I really appreciate that even in this tragic narrative with big ideas and a lot of angst, they get to have fun and be fun

• Even as their relationship is about to hit its breaking point, you can still tell they're not just torturedly in love but they actually like each other so much

• "And while you're enjoying it, let me ask you this... how often do you write to her?"

• Genny is attempting to play it cool but boy is she not

• The little pause between often and write and then to her, oof

• It's so soft but like the hint is there

• The silence while Arthur makes his move on the board, ugh

• "I send a letter a week"/"Every week?"/"Yes"/"For how long?"/"Mordred's fourteen, he came to me when he was ten so four years"/"That's 208 letters"/"I have a responsibility there, I'm trying to do-"/"Do the chivalrous thing"/"Yes"

• It's so painful to hear their deliveries and realize they're having two separate conversations where they're both upset and they don't understand the other person is feeling the same

• Like Genny getting alarmed at 208 letters, Arthur getting frustrated and defensive about it and cutting Genny's last line off, and then Genny delivery of do the chivalrous thing like she's so tired

• It is so besides the point but how exactly was Arthur expecting the fucking soap opera and/or sitcom situation he's trying to create going

• Like his piece of shit kid, his ex who hates him, his wife that he loves whose feelings for him he doesn't have a handle on, and his bestie whose feelings for his wife Arthur definitely does know

• I know castles are very big but I don't think they're big enough to make that situation good for anyone

• "You've never asked me her name"/"Is it Morgan Le Fay?"/"How did you know that?"/"And she's a scientist"

• Genny has been holding this in for a whole year and she's finally ready to use it

• She says it like she's caught Arthur in some kind of lie which obviously she hasn't but I do wonder if she's had this conversation in her head enough times that she's already thinking the worst

• "He blames me for her condition. All the more reason why I want them both to be here at the castle. She needs care."

• That long pause before condition and the way he says it like maybe Arthur also blames himself

• And they're still playing chess throughout this whole thing as if they can pretend that this conversation isn't causing them both pain

• The sound of the pieces getting moved on the board while during the tense silences, yes

• And now we get to me being emotionally destroyed

• This scene is a roller coaster and the writing and acting of it is perfect in every way

• "We're more than king and queen, you and I. Don't you think?"

• He's so unsure, he's always so unsure it is torture

• The emphasis on you

• But also he does in some way recognize that she's upset about Morgan and he gets so close but spectacularly fails

• Genny is so hopeful on the "Yes, yes I do"

• Him stammering out and Genny trying one more yes to get him to come up with something

• And then that something is business partners

• In my brain I am screaming

• I have done nothing but make fun of Arthur for business partners (and friends) since I first saw this show and I will continue to do it now

• However I do think that for him, in the context of his experience being thrust into royalty, he is actually expressing a very romantic sentiment

• He meets Genny and tells her about Camelot and she doesn't think she's worthy of that

• But here he's affirming that she is, that she's his partner in this and he recognizes her worth

• They talk in the second scene and she mentions that as a princess she doesn't have friends

• And here he's telling her that they are friends, that she isn't alone

• And we see how uncomfortable Arthur is being treated as the king

• And he's trying to tell Genny that he cares for her as a person and not just the queen he traded for in a treaty

• He wants her to see him that way because if she sees him as just Arthur and not the king, then maybe he can tell her how he feels

• But also maybe it you are a man and your confession of love to a woman contains the words "I know this is an unusual thing for a man to say about a woman but" you have turned down the wrong path

• "Yes. Friends. And business partners"

• Her delivery is so ice cold, it's perfect

• The fact that she says this and even Arthur picks up on her tone and knows he fucked up

• Arthur trying to fix things and being interrupted

• His frustration with himself is so heartbreaking

• I am still screaming in my brain just louder now

• Pelli is great but also he is the cause of so many of Arthur and Genny's resentments and miscommunications, the man's a magnet for drama

• He's so funny in this scene trying to complain to Arthur and Arthur already knowing all of Mordred's bullshit

• And yelling dammit so many times in the most perfect way like me with every person who has ever annoyed me

• "Because England doesn't have a law against limericks"

• The fact that even though they're in the middle of this weird emotional mess, Arthur looks to Genny when he's talking about how Pelli's question is complicated

• His thinking buddy

• And business partner

• Also the idea that Arthur is so chill with the fact that he doesn't have the answer, that he's laying groundwork for future progress instead of assuming it will be accomplished by him

• Which is just inherently a concept I think I struggle with, that the world will not change in all the ways it should in my lifetime but the work now still has to be done

• So I like to see it

• Not going to write out another good Sorkin speech about ideas but I love this one too rest assured

• And we've had a nice little break, now we're back to chess and Arthur trying to force out something coherent and me screaming in my brain again

• I still can't get over the way they're still playing chess I'm sorry

• Genny saying "you're in check" with a different delivery every time to convey her emotional state

• The range

• Arthur just trying so hard to come up with anything again, I am personally suffering

• "What I feel-"/"I thought it was right on the money"/"Oh you do?"

• Then I think he says "oh okay" but I don't even know

• They were so close this is the worst

• Still chess

• "Do you regret being born a princess?"/"I'm confident that most people would gladly trade their problems for mine"/"But you're not talking to them right now"

• Firstly the show does an amazing job recontexualizing What Do the Simple Folk Do and everything around it so A+ for that

• But also Arthur is so empathetic in this moment

• "I know you're sad sometimes. That you miss whatever life you were searching for the night you ran from the carriage. The simple joys of maidenhood you called it. You do a good job of hiding it from the court but when you feel sad you-"/"can talk to my business partner?"/"Well I think I might be good at cheering you up"

• The delivery is so sincere

• He sees her pain and he cares so much

• He feels responsible for the life that she missed out on by marrying him

• And he wants to help

• In many ways, he is terrible at expressing his feelings but again in some small respects, he does absolutely knock it out of the park

• Even if Genny can't see it

• "If there was a tournament for cheering you up, I think I'd win"/"Oh as long as there wasn't a bird nearby"/"It wasn't just any bird, it was a white tailed eagle both times"

• The way they move from emotional conversations and annoyed miscommunications back to humor with such ease

• Arthur's bird obsession continues to be one of the best bits of characterization ever

• Genny making fun of Arthur's various words for peasants

• I love What Do the Simple Folk Do so much

• It's just perfectly constructed and the rhymes are pretty genius

• I love every single lyric

• And I love that this song gives Arthur and Genny a chance to be charming and reconnect after the second half of act 1 and the beginning of act 2 were so focused on Genny and Lance

• And then this scene has so much going on that it reminds you why they're the couple of the show

• I didn't need reminding because I'm trash for them but other people might

• All of the little jokes between the lyrics are so funny

• The delivery of "the very last thing you should have is encouragement" is so much funnier than on the cast recording

• Like what is this? So charming

• "My father used to say I sang like an angel who'd been blessed with a particularly pretty singing voice"

• I'm so glad this is at least on the cast recording

• She plays it so straight, it's so good

• This may be my favorite of the songs

• And the dance, they're so cute, the squeeling kills me

• I can't adequately express how much I need to find a bootleg so I can witness this again, the whole scene really but mostly this

• I cannot handle the way they say "Genny"/"Your Majesty"

• Fuuuuck

• The groan in the audience at "a letter from my mother", the pure expression of fuck Mordred

• "He's been waiting a long time."/"Yes"/"My mother was his first, you know"/"I had that sense, yes"/"They say you never fully get over your first love"

• Genny hates Mordred so much and she's right

• He's hitting her exactly where it hurts but Arthur can't even tell

• Also fascinating that Mordred can actually see the dynamic between Genny and Arthur and Lance so much more clearly than the people involved

• "You think you might possibly be spending the night?"

• Like her deliveries were getting more panicked but then this one

• Like she can't even believe what she's hearing and he doesn't even get it

• The long silence after Mordred says Lance has the queen's protection detail

• As people make mmms in the audience

• And then their last little exchange

• Ouch

• Genny telling Arthur what she herself actually needs to be told and Arthur having no clue

• "His queen's in danger"

• Mordred is the absolute worst and it's perfect

• The reprise of the Simple Joys of Maidenhood, so sad and I can't handle it

• I think this is her moment of just fully sitting in the idea that her husband doesn't love her and sees her so completely separate from that that he doesn't even understand why she's so upset to see him dash away overnight to see another woman

• And that he therefore doesn't and won't love her in the way she's singing about

• And thinking that she has the knight pining for her but it isn't enough and sets up her trying to make it enough

• She's grown so much since she first sang the song but she still can't fill the void of wanting this kind of love

• But also knowing that kind of love isn't enough

• I love her

Act 2, Scene 3: The home of Morgan Le Fey/Guenevere's Chamber/ Castle corridor - on that evening

• The into music to Morgan is gorgeous, perhaps my favorite

• It's hard to introduce an important character this late into the show and make them so memorable, even if they've been hanging over the narrative for a while now

• And still have them knock it out of the park but once again, this show is perfectly cast

• The tension of this whole scene is everything

• Morgan's laugh and then "Jesus christ it's the king of England"

• Immediately sets her up perfectly

• And we get something totally different out of Arthur

• I love their dialouge which I am once again trying not to just fully write out, I love their chemistry, I love how quickly their friendliness breaks down

• He does sound genuinely happy to see her at the beginning but as soon as he asks if she's feeling well, they start to cool

• I can't even pick specific lines because everything is such a vibe

• You feel the history and complication and the years apart where everything has changed for both of them and the way that she's the one person who knew him as just Arthur

• "I know exactly who you are"

• Like of course this one was gonna have a line reading that lends itself to multiple things but that's always good and I like it

• Genny ranting to Lance about the number of letters Arthur wrote to Morgan

• She finally gets to be pissed and Phillipa Soo plays it so well

• "Don't review my arithmetic in your head, it's 208"

• Even at her most angry, she still must make sure Lance knows she's right, very relatable

• "I questioned the king, we've all questioned the king"

• This adaptation has built in the knights discontent so well that it's believable that they've just been growing more resentful over time

• "Because one cannot legislate goodness Pellinore, which at the end of the day, is the mission of the round table"/"And what say you Sagramore?"/"Well tell me, when we're all equal will peasants live like knights or will knights live like peasants?"

• Their entire speech is amazing

• The knights growing angrier as they realize they're all on the same page

• The way that it all fits seamlessly into the story we see on the stage but there's also no denying it's about the time we're living in right now

• But again, not in a way where it feels out of nowhere or too heavy handed

• "I throw away the letters, I give away the money"

• I love the way she delivers her lines so dismissively

• I wonder how much of it is her feelings and how much of it is trying to hurt Arthur as much as he's hurt her

• "That part gets left out of the legend" I think is the first moment where Arthur gets under Morgan's skin just a bit

• Like I'm not sure what she wants/wanted from Arthur but maybe it was just that she doesn't like being erased from the story

• "What wife could possibly object?"

• I love her bitterness mounting leading up to this line and actually hearing her call herself Arthur's wife which is I don't think is something she does before

• "I admire the king's commitment to doing the right thing no matter what. That's what a man does, and god knows it should be what a king does."

• I love watching Genny justify her anger because on one level she knows it isn't fair to be angry

• That she really does admire Arthur's goodness and believes he's doing the right thing

• That it's not that he's going to see Morgan, that he wants to bring her to the castle, it's about his actions with Genny

• Or I suppose the lack of consideration of her feelings in maybe the most hurtful way where there was nothing deliberate, it just didn't even occur to him

• She's so hurt

• Everyone in this scene gets to be extremely mad and I love it

• "When he ran out of here, he didn't think it would trouble me at all. He didn't think the letters would mean anything to me. Or staying overnight. Mordred said his mother was his first true love. Business partner. He said it right in front of me as if I wouldn't mind"/"Do you?"/"No, of course not. It's just that it was the first time that it's been demonstrated to me that-"/"Your husband doesn't think of you as his wife"/"Yes"

• Everything is on her face and in her voice

• She's so hurt, so angry, so tired of not being loved

• And when she says of course it doesn't bother her, when she pulls back her feelings in front of Lance

• And her delivery of yes like something clicks in her brain, probably their entire relationship is flashing in her brain and she's building up evidence that it's true

• Lance has articulated exactly what she didn't know she was feeling

• And the music under it underscores each emotion perfectly

• Again Phillipa Soo is just emotionally devastating in this scene

• But also gotta go back to "Your husband doesn't think of you as his wife"

• Like right now I'm just thinking back to Arthur referring to Genny as French to Lance when they first meet and again when he asks her to tell Lance he's being invested

• While Genny in that scene and in the first scene of act 2 keeps referring to her country as England while Lance claims her as French like him

• I wonder if that distinction is one of the things that feeds into her (and Lance?) feeling like Arthur doesn't think of her as his wife

• That she's trying to keep proclaiming her loyalty and he keeps putting a border between them

• At least in her point of view

• While he's as always trying to show her that he sees and respects her as an autonomous individual and not a thing he owns

• Am I reading too far into this? Probably

• (You're not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now - honestly that it took me this long to make a Taylor Swift reference is a marvel)

• Anyway back to this tremendous scene

• Part of me does wonder if Lance really doesn't know how Arthur feels or if he's in denial because it's easier for him if Arthur doesn't think of Genny as his wife

• Like he does make a point to tell Arthur in the last scene that he and Genny aren't together

• He's gotta realize in this scene how Genny feels about Arthur but curious about the other way around

• Or ya know, maybe he doesn't, maybe he's just as emotionally inept as everyone else in this show

• Don't really have a point, it's just an interesting thought

• How do so many versions cut Fie on Goodness?

• Like not only is it an amazing song but also it's sort of the whole damn point

• If you cut it, the ideals of Camelot are barely even a plot, it's all love triangle

• Also just want to take a moment to appreciate how gross the lyrics to this one are

• This is for sure my favorite sequence

• The intro speech to the song is perfect

• Them just getting worked up about how England is special, it is better, that they're the ones who should be listened to

• "Don't dare question our loyalty to the king"/"A king who encourages debate"

• Again I just love the knights' conflicted feelings about Arthur

• So it's easiest to shift all the blame to Genny and Lance

• This song is so good, this cast is so good

• "That day that I became king, my cousin gave me his tutor, a man named Merlyn. And Merlyn spoke to me of a great cause that I could lead. But I would have to stay unmarried until a young princess in France came of age"/"And you left me unmarriable, a woman with a child"/"I didn't know about the child until he came and introduced himself"/"You raise your voice to me? Have I displeased you your majesty?"/"Stop calling me that"/"I know all about the French princess-"/"The queen"/"and the grand cause-"/"great cause"/"I don't give a damn"

• This is a stupid amount of text that I've typed out but I love their back and forth here

• Arthur trying to justify himself and not wanting to take responsibility and them both getting angry at each other

• Morgan and her relationship with Arthur have been changed pretty drastically to the point that she's not even the same character and I like it and her so much

• I do wonder what the intent was here because I feel like you could read a lot of different things into their dynamic

• And to what that means about Arthur

• I mean I get the sense that she's maybe always been maybe a bit of an outsider, maybe always was a little more world-weary (or maybe not, maybe getting left pregnant while he became king hardened her)

• And maybe their power dynamic has been completely flipped but also maybe Arthur still has a hard time not letting it flip back

• Because like there's no doubt for me that for whatever reason, she was the one holding the cards originally and he doesn't know how to deal with her now

• Like I don't know if she's older or Arthur was always bad at love so she would have just been the more confident person but there's something there

• She obviously has a completely different point of view than anyone else in the show which I love

• And she gets under Arthur's skin so easily

• I guess because she's the one casuality of his great cause, the one wrong he can't right

• Also "stop calling me that" is so petulant teen

• And he was that when he knew her so of course it comes out

• "You seem quick to betray the king"/"I would die before I betrayed King Arthur"/"Yet here you are"/"I can't rise above being a man, a human man. I can't transcend it no matter how hard I try"

• My favorite Lance line

• Ugh it's perfect

• He's so tortured and so good at conveying that in his delivery

• He's getting some character growth

• Genny being both not wrong but also putting it on him so she doesn't have to think about her own behavior

• "My duty is to god, King Arthur, and the round table. I can best serve all three with my absence. It's a small price for one person to pay for a greater good"

• Ooh the self-loathing hits so good

• And Genny panicking because she's about to get left for the second time tonight

• The playing of If Ever I Would Leave You

• Because he is, or he's at least trying to

• To do the right thing

• Genny and Lance speaking French together, always good even thought I can't understand shit

• "No more talking"

• And the bed just being pulled out of the scene

• I just love how the song is interspersed with these scenes, this sequence is truly brilliant and the energy of it in the theater is truly unmatched

• "All the letters that followed-"/"All the letters that followed offered me room and board along with the cash. Imagine how moved I was by the chivalry"

• Ah mocking chivalry, a family pastime

• Again, I just love the way she goes in on Arthur's attempts to do the right thing over and over

• And again I don't know if it's because he wouldn't give her what she actually wanted or pure vengence

• "Guilty and alive once more" is probably my favorite line from the song

• "Let me ask you this question and I'm entitled to the truth. If there hadn't been a cause, a great case, would you have married me? No."/"I was fifteen years old that night and the next day I was king. I was anointed by the archbishop of Canterbury in York and those men think they put me in direct contact with the divine. There was a cause."

• Clearly in her mind he was never going to marry her but we know from Pelli that when he met Arthur when he was already king, he was still very much in love with Morgan

• More than 10 years (plus then a year that's passed in story) before this could be lots of different amounts of time but it could have been up to a few years into Arthur being king which is a long while

• So the answer was probably yes

• But he doesn't say any of that because his feelings don't matter, he's too focused on justifying his cause, that it was important enough to make up for her life

• And ya know Camelot is what's important now, Camelot is what he and Genny have devoted their lives to, he can't fail

• This is the scene where I just conspiracy board Genny and Arthur's relationship

• This is fine, I'm normal about this show, that's why I wrote all of this

• Either way I think it must really bother Athur that Morgan might think he's not a good man

• We saw it with Genny and the courtesans thing too

• Like obviously part of that was being in love with her but also I think it fucks with his self-image as a person who does the right thing which is his entire life

• And Morgan's the biggest crack in that in his mind which is why he gets angry pretty much constantly in this scene

• At least that's my theory

• I love that we get see him cracking a bit under the strain of being good and trying to rise above being a human being just like everyone else in this scene

• He's got a lot more moral fortitude than the rest of the characters so it just manifests as him getting to be angry and express it to another person for once but still

• He makes excuses, he gets mad, he won't accept that Morgan's version of events is also true and he can't force her to be okay with it

• I don't know, there's something nice about narrative not saying that making the choices of the knights or Genny and Lance is inevitable, Arthur does make the right choices but he still isn't perfect here

• "And I won't live in a spare room in a castle and be the used and discarded former mistress of a king... but I will be the mother of one"

• So like how much of Mordred's plans are Mordred and how much is Morgan?

• And you know used and discarded former mistress of a king is killing Arthur

• "And he didn't"/"What?"/"Put you in direct contact with the divine"/"That is made clear to me every day"

• Morgan did a good job of pretending indifference at the beginning but the more she lays into Arthur, the more hostile things get between them, it's so clear that if the opposite of love is indifference then they haven't managed to get over loving each other

• It's just soured and rotted but won't die

• More so for Morgan because she paid the price, she couldn't move on in the way he could

• "And I wouldn't want to see your face when you realize it didn't make a difference. There'll be greed and injustice and hate and horror. You can change the stuff but people stay exactly the same. No one whose opponent was human nature has ever won a fight. Human nature responds to-"/"Inspiration"/"Fear. And that's it"

• It's so cruel but also a great illustration of the ways that they're fundamental opposites

• "I don't forget anything"

• Another extremely loaded line delivery

• (Don't make an All Too Well reference, don't make an All Too Well reference, don't)

• The panic and realization of "he's not stupid" and the music that builds to it and Morgan's laugh ugh perfect

• The intro music to I Loved You Once in Silence is gorgeous

• Lance and Genny in white feeling guilty as hell is a good visual

• So much regret

• Just instantly

• I feel like the moment they've actually acted on their feelings, they know that it's not only a mistake but also that their feelings aren't actually what they thought

• Well maybe Lance doesn't quite have it yet in this scene but he gets there

• Not to repeat what I said about the first scene in act 2 but

• My take is that they intentionally deepened Arthur and Genny's relationship and Lance's character but not Lance and Genny's relationship

• They intentionally left it shallow

• That these are two people who are missing something and the easiest way for them to get that is to frame what they have as love

• I mean for Genny it's sort of obvious, she's married to a man she's in love with but that she thinks doesn't love her

• Lance makes her feel certain about his feelings for her and that's validating

• But Lance, I feel like I have thoughts but I'm not sure

• Lance has never been forced to reckon with temptation before

• And instead of facing that in himself

• He just makes Genny part of the list of things that define him

• A goddess on earth and a god above

• Along with the table

• And he can worship them all to avoid having to figure out who he actually is

• It's not him admitting he has a human weakness, it's a grand tragic love story that he can suffer for

• And suffering, well that's what lets him cope with whatever about himself he feels is so terrible that he needs to punish himself for it

• He's so terrified to look inward, so afraid of something in himself that he just finds his identity in other people and institutions

• And he can't hide behind that anymore because he's betrayed it all, every single thing

• I feel like this makes it sound like I don't like Lance and I very much do

• He's just particularly flawed because he's the only one who doesn't start the show knowing that about himself

• They all make choices out of self-loathing and fear of unworthiness but I do think Lance thinks consciously he's above that for most of the show even if subconsciously he knows he isn't

• He's the only one of the main three to not really finish his character journey within the confines of this narrative

• Arguably he only starts right now and finally realizes he's not the man he thought he was

• Again fic potential somone???

• Well that was a tangent

• Jordan Donica's performance of I Loved You Once in Silence is so heartbreaking

• "Lance I made a mistake. I'm sorry but you're a good man and I should have been nicer to you."

• I love that, I love that she takes her responsibility (even if she's already trying to cover up what happened)

• But also it's just the clearst indication that acting on her feelings killed them

• She doesn't need to push Lance away anymore to stop herself from doing anything

• I love that Lance tries to surrender peacefully

• He's willing to take responsibility not for his noble suffering anymore but because he is a good man and he knows he's done what he's been accused of

• And he only attacks because he has to

• Mordred's evil laugh

• Lance being slightly disheveled and grabbing Mordred's sword to fight off the guards and escape

• I don't have any kind of intellectual take, this is just a personal problem for me

• My jaw was on the floor when Lance started yelling back about coming for her if he survives

• Such a tense ramp up into Guenevere

Act 2, Scene 4: The trial/The Battle

• Guenevere has such amazing lyrics

• The entire "more than love met its doom"/"came the sundown of a dream" verse destroys me

• And I love every word of added dialouge, so correct to put it on the cast recording

• I feel I must explain my love for the staging of this song some more because it is so simple and I understand that some people are not into it but I so much am

• I love the way they close off the back of the stage for I think the only time in the whole show and it becomes claustrophobic all of the sudden

• Now Arthur is stuck in this little box in front of the audience while everything falls apart for him and that's what you have to look at so there's no getting away from how devastating it is

• We just get some full force Andrew Burnap acting and I love it, I think by now it should be clear that I would

• In other versions that I've seen, there's a lot more happening and we see Genny

• And we see Arthur see her tied to the stake and Lancelot show up to rescue her

• Which I do like in theory

• But we don't really see Genny have any actual role or even seeming to have any particular feelings about what she's done or what's about to happen

• Like she's about to die and I've yet to see a version where I have any idea if she's got a single emotion about that

• Despite the name of the song, I think this show decided this scene isn't about Genny, it's about Arthur

• It's about the consequences of his laws

• It's about the beginning of his new war

• Arthur screaming "Pelli I know" like we see him start to crack

• Oh to know who told Arthur and how he took it

• "Well do something"/"She's under arrest. She's been accused of treason"/"Arthur I understand that you're angry but"/"She's been accused of breaking the law. She has to be judged"

• The delivery of that last line, ugh

• He keeps it impersonal, it isn't about what she did to him or his pain, it's about the law

• The law they lovingly crafted together

• "What a magnificent dilemma: let her die and you're a monster, let her live and you're a fraud. Which will it be? Do you kill the queen or the law?"

• Fuck

• The delivery is so good

• Mordred is having the time of his life shrieking about Arthur's pain

• The killing the queen or the law bit seems to be mostly unchanged and it's maybe the best single line from the original book

• Although it went from kill the queen and your life is over to you're a monster

• Mordred has to know Arthur is in love with Genny, right?

• Maybe he just can't imagine Arthur could love a person more than he loves his ideals which I guess would make sense given Morgan and Arthur's relationship

• Arthur drawing his sword on Mordred!!!

• "Ooh careful your majesty, you wouldn't want to be barbaric"

• The fact that Mordred thinks that's going to work, that he can continue to poke at Arthur and he won't respond, he really does believe in Arthur's goodness doesn't he?

• "You are exiled from this court. Return and I will show you what barbaric looks like"

• Arthur screaming at Mordred with his hand around his throat is so intense

• It's so good

• Another gasp out loud in the theater moment

• Arthur is fully unraveling and I'm obsessed

• "I know my way out"

• It's such a teenage delivery and like Mordred is just a kid who feels abandoned by his father

• And as much as this is a tragedy for the three main characters, it's no less a tragedy for Mordred

• Aging down Mordred, also a great choice

• And again, just another stellar performance

• Every single person in this cast just knocked it out of the park in a way I never could have anticipated

• "Arthur please, I'm an old man and I know I'm ridiculous but for the love of god, it's Genny. She made a mistake, she knows that."

• I love that Pelli loves her too

• That he isn't judging her

• "She broke the law Pellinore. A law signed by the king. So say the people"

• He starts trying to be calm but then the fact that it's his law brings up the anger and then he breaks on so say the people

• He's written his own destruction

• And empowered others to take the decision out of his hands

• I love the dialouge in this scene so damn much

• "Neither you nor I nor god himself can stop this terrible thing that's been put in motion"/"What are you waiting for?"/"I'm waiting for what's inevitably coming next"

• The delivery of coming next...

• Like obviously he wants Lance to save Genny but he knows that no matter what

• No matter if she lives or dies, peace is over and the round table has been destroyed

• And he needs to prepare

• Also the way he frames what's happening

• It's not what Genny and Lance or even Mordred caused

• It's just what's been set into motion by all these tiny and giant choices throughout the show that have bubbled over into the death of Camelot

• "That's Lancelot du Lac out there and he's brought a battalion. Double the guard, triple the guard, those guards are going to die tonight"

• How many times can I just copy a bunch of text and write the delivery

• Because yup

• The lack of hope from Arthur is chilling

• Arthur getting dragged back into the war he worked so hard to end

• Just every line delivery in this scene is perfect

• Every lyric of the song

• Every acting choice

• And I love to see it visually

• Preparing for war isn't an exciting spectacle, it's tragic

Act 2, Scene 5: Outside Joyous Gard - on the eve of war

• The way they fade in on the eve of war just broke my heart every time

• I would love to know how much communication there was between Arthur and Lance and how

• Like how much of a role did Arthur play in the whole Genny not getting burned business?

• And the fact that his first question is whether they've been injured

• Even after everything, he's a good man who cares

• And Genny and Lance too, being willing to come back and die

• They're all good people who made mistakes but still good people

• "I assure you, if I thought it would end all this, I would light the fire myself"

• Absolutely brutal but like after he lays out all the death and rebellion that have already happened I guess brutal is fair

• Ya know, if I thought he meant it even a little

• "Lance, come morning some of your countrymen are going to be at the end of my sword. It's not personal, it's just my job. Stay safe Lance."/"I can't do that. And neither can you. Godspeed your majesty."

• I just love the idea of Lance and Arthur as these two people who love each other spearheading this war neither of them believe in

• It's so tragic

• Their goodbye is so understated which for Lance is like truly a great bit of contrast

• They've had enough big declarations, these few sentences just distill everything perfectly

• And then we come to Genny and Arthur, fuck fuck fuck

• The first time I saw this I spent like all of intermission and act 2 with a loop in my brain of but they love each other, right?

• I am unrepentant trash for them in this version as though that wasn't abundantly clear

• And Aaron Sorkin delivered for me so hard in this scene

• "Please let me die, Arthur"

• The pause before his name

• And now we get to the part where I start to get like teary-eyed in the theater

• "Two very powerful men did this to you... not Mordred and Lance, your father and me"

• That long pause before and me

• I love his whole speech, I almost typed it all out

• And they allow so much silence during it

• And the way he's like trying to hold it together but he can't by the end

• "You were treated like a queen but you were my hostage Genny, what the hell did we think was going to happen?"

• That he recognizes and actually admits the ways that his choices have harmed Genny, the unfairness in the entire situation he's put her through

• That he can see even through his own hurt and the enormity of what has been set into motion, his own responsibility for what's happened

• Like he's not right but he's also not wrong

• "And for it's worth, I've been in love with you this whole time"

• Not even looking at her so we have to see it instead ugh

• And then watch that long silence while Genny just like rearranges her entire view of their relationship

• "For what it's worth? Did you just say for what it's worth?"/"Well I thought maybe you'd like to know that. But I wasn't sure."

• Just smashing my heart into tiny little pieces

• After everything they've been to each other, after all they built together, he still doesn't even know if his feelings will matter to her

• While Genny is getting ready to lose her mind after for what it's worth

• They're so absolutely emotionally inept

• "You weren't sure? Why didn't you ever tell me before?"/"It doesn't matter"/"Why?"/"How could I? I'm the king of England. You'd have been forced to pretend you felt the same way"

• Again they are delivering lines in a way that is continuing to smash the little pieces of my heart into complete dust

• Like Arthur is again not wrong but not right

• His life is so lonely because of this crown he didn't want and his desire to actually be responsible with that power

• And even now he tries to get out of explaining that to her

• I love him so much is the problem

• And then her mmm like all the pieces are coming together in her brain that they've both been suffering for nothing and she is pissed

• I love her so much which is also the problem

• Incidentally, both of these things are also their problem so very relatable

• "Out of curiousity, if I had told you, what would you have said?"/"That I loved you from the moment I saw you, from the moment you spoke, from the moment you sang me that stupid song about the weather"/"It's not about the weather it's a metaphor"/"I know it's a metaphor"

• The way Genny overlaps him asking, she can't even wait for him to finish

• The way she says stupid song

• The way that she's like, I did fall in love with you over that song but also I still hate it and think it's dumb

• She says it with such contempt

• Icon

• Even standing before the wreckage of their lives, they still can't stop bickering about the song, I'm obsessed

• "I prayed every night that one day you would see me the way I saw you. And then you told me I was your business partner. Yes I was and I am in love with you"/"Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse"

• She prayed every night???

• For two years???

• That he would return her feelings???

• Fuck

• Like I don't know if I can convey how much them being in love with each other and thinking it's unrequited for two whole years ping pongs around my brain and just lights up all the synapses

• "Do you really think 10,000 people loosened that sword for me?"/"I do"/"So do I. That's a nice thought isn't it?"

• It is a nice thought

• I love the philosophy of this show, I love that there's no convoluted Arthur is actually the son of the last king so he was destined to be special

• These are just two people who though birth or circumstance ended up in this position of power and chose to do good with it

• Genny begging for just a little more time like the only reason I kept anything together was being in a theater but if feel confident that if I ever get my hands on footage of this show, I would have already been sobbing by this point

• "They won't let me let Lance save you twice so you have to go Princess Guenevere"

• Hearing him call her by her name is so deeply distressing

• Literally not once before in the show does it happen and it hurts

• And then they're playing Before I Gaze at You Again what an amazing choice

• Turning a love song she sang about Lance into this romantic moment for her and Arthur because theirs was the love story the whole time like brilliant

• That they chose the show's first love song and brought it back for Genny and Arthur being unable to leave each other without that hug and that kiss

• Like this song that is originally about the pain of unfulfilled love for the wrong person and then flipping it to the pain of fulfilled love with the right one

• I am so not okay

• Also people did very loudly applaud at closing when they kissed and I was so glad because truly in my head I was doing it every time

• "I love you"/"I love you too"/"God save the king"

• I mean these are some good last words to say to each other, I'll give them that

• The thing about the original version of the musical is that the ending was already a perfect concept

• Here it just feels more meaningful because they lay that groundwork about inspiring the next generation throughout

• Tom trying to con Arthur about his age is very funny

• This kid is so good and adorable

• "You're speaking to a king"/"I'm twelve years old"

• Like his comedic delivery, very impressive

• "And when did you decide upon this nonexistent career?"

• We get a solid 60 seconds of cynical Arthur and that's about it

• The entire concept of this kid being inspired by the stories of Camelot is just deeply moving and beautiful

• And just the entirety of Andrew Burnap's performance of that realization hitting Arthur

• I love a story that's about the power of stories

• People also applauded at the last show when Arthur says the stories were all true which I also just deeply love

• Arthur's I know exactly how you feel when Tom says he's not ready to be a knight and putting his arm around him, so cute

• "And you will return to your home alive"

• The way he says alive

• Like I think Arthur knows that he's not making it out of this

• Even if he would manage to survive the battle and Mordred, he knows his time is done

• But the the future is still there

• And there is about to be so much death

• Some of it from his sword or his orders

• And the rest of it of his men

• But at least this kid, he's going to live

• The reprise of Camelot... I just love it so much

• "I've won my battle, here's my victory"

• Not a new line but just such a gorgeous one

• The entire idea of the story of Camelot as a tragedy but a hopeful one just gets me

• It's such a beautiful conclusion that this version sets up so so well

• I love that we end on a speech again, just like act 1

• Also that last bit of music as they walk off, stunning

• I have attempted to track down as many older productions of this show as I can including the movie which was good but I am biased and I do sort of think Sorkin and Bartlett Sher and the actors and everyone else involved had the more interesting take on the themes and characters

• A Broadway musical is best when it has simple but impactful themes and big emotions

• And that's exactly what this version gave us

• The highest compliment I can give this show is that not only have I not stopped thinking about it, not only did I tell everyone I know to see it, not only did I want to see the show again (and again and...), but it also just made me feel inspired to see more theater in a way I haven't in a serious while

• I just love this show so much and I'm so glad there are some people here who can't get over it either

• This is what I have to offer, the longest possible unhinged rant and bad quality closing audio, that is all

#it is bad that i wrote all of this #but it's worse that I had to learn I vomited out more words than tumblr even allows #this is what Camelot has done to me #this and made me see just so much more theater than I have ever #still riding the high of watching this cast live apparently #This Barbie can't shut up about Camelot #maybe three is enough unhinged long rants about this show #I wouldn't put money on it but we can all hope #I think the only thing that can sate my soul is a proshot #or sate my soul like 50% with a bootleg #and 50% by casting everyone in this show in good new stuff #preferably produced by my friend's boss so I can maybe get a free ticket #I'm waiting for the most crucial moment to be that annoying friend who asks for a perk #Camelot Musical #the freedom I feel having this note off my phone though

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