#that and the ideas i keep having about the abbey being haunted but that is a story for another post... ;]

[sphylor]

kitty dew sharpening his claws?

@maxencewolfe (aaaa sorry it took a couple of days to get around to these but here we goooo)

kitty Dew used to sharpen his claws on the furniture a lot at first. he didn't really have anywhere else to do it so the sofa it was. whenever someone else noticed him doing it they would always get him to stop (they weren't mad of course) and he would look up at them with big apologetic eyes and meow sadly. he didn't want to be causing issues really but what else was he meant to do? kitty instinct was telling him he needed to sharpen his claws and so it was either the side of the sofa or a stressed out Dew. they quickly realised they should probably buy him a scratching post instead. when they did, it took some demonstrating to show Dew how to use it, Rain knelt down next to him and showed him what he needed to do. but after that he loved it! its big enough for him to use comfortably and stops him from clawing up the furniture. they get a few more to put around (one in his room, the living room, the practice room, the greenhouse, they even have on on the tour bus). and also its like a stim toy for him. cats will scratch scratching posts when they get excited and so when he gets really happy or excited he'll trot over to the nearest scratching post and start stimming basically. the others have tried it out themselves and they do have to admit the feeling is quite nice. Dew caught Swiss doing it once when he wasnt kitty and Swiss started getting embarrassed but Dew was just like "see it feels good doesnt it?"

[dyke-will-graham]

My list of songs so Hannigram coded it’s insane and the lyrics that make them so:

Salt in the Wound- Boygenius

‘You put salt in the wound, and a kiss on my cheek. You butter me up and you sit down to eat’

‘Neck full of mockingbirds all calling your name…I’m gnashing my teeth like a child of Cain’

I’m Your Man- Mitski

‘You’re an Angel, I’m a dog. Or you’re a dog and I’m you’re man. You believe me like a God, I destroy you like I am.’

‘I’m sorry I’m the one you love, no one will ever love me like you again so when you leave me I should die. I deserve it don’t I?’

Famous Last Words (an Ode to Eaters) - Ethel Cain

‘Look at me baby, dead in my eyes. It’s the end of our holiday, but it isn’t goodbye. Carry me with you all of the time.’

‘Eat of me baby, skin to the bone. Body on body until I’m all gone. But I’m with you inside.’

It Will Come Back- Hozier

All I’m gonna say is first verse is Hannibal POV, second is Will POV talking to eachother I could write a damn essay on this song and Hannigram

Shrike- Hozier

‘The words hung above, but never would form. Like a cry at the final breathe that is drawn. Remember me love, when I am reborn as the Shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn.’

‘Had no idea on the ground i was founded, oh that goodness is gone with you now. Then I met you, my virtues uncounted. My goodness is goin with you now.’

‘Back to the hedgerow where the bodies are mounted’

Abbey- Mitski

‘I am hungry, I have been hungry, I was born hungry, what do I need?’

Butchered Tongue- Hozier

This one I think is Will when he married Molly and settling into his new life but still looking for Hannibal in everything.

UPDATE:

Talk- Hozier

Once again getting into the Greek mythology themes and Hannigram parallels. Orpheus and Eurydice as Will and Hannibal haunts me.

‘I’d be the immediate in Eurydice, imagine being loved by me.”

Paralleled with the scenes of Hannibal and Wills seperate “I forgive you”.

Me and My Husband - Mitski

‘At least in this lifetime we’re sticking together.’

This is a little cracky, but this song reminds me of the way Hannibal and Will are chasing potentials and scenarios where they can stay together. Teacups and all that and yes the world is on fire but Hannibal and Will are together so it’s okay.

Breezeblocks- alt-j

Enough said.

NFWMB - Hozier

‘Give your heart and soul to charity. Because the rest of you, the best of you Honey belongs to me.’

The possessiveness of Hannibal and Will over eachother is insane, we know this. And I think people forget that Will is just as bad as Hannibal about it. (Just see any interaction between Bedelia and Will for evidence)

Salvatore- Lana Del Rey

“The summers wild and I’ve been waiting for you all this time. I adore you can’t you see you were meant for me?”

“Catch me if you can…dying at the hand of a foreign man, happily.”

Once More to See You- Mitski

“But with everybody watching us, our every move. We do have reputations, we keep it secret, won’t let them have it.”

“If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses then I wouldn’t have to scream your name.”

Televangelism- Ethel Cain

No lyrics in this one, just piano and the sound of me crying softly. This song is EVERYTHING the Primavera scene was in Dolce. Please listen. The slow build, the melodic flutter of a heartbeat the rise and ascension when they see each other and smile at one another, the acceptance of fate, the knowledge of love. “You and I have begun to blur.”

anything - Adrienne Lenker

“I don’t wanna be the owner of your fantasy I just wanna be a part of your family.”

Savior Complex- Phoebe Bridgers

“Drift off on the floor, I drag you to the shore. Sweating through the sheets you’re gonna drown in your sleep for sure. Wake up and start a fire in our one room apartment but I’m too tired to have a pissing contest, all the bad dreams that you hide show me yours I’ll show you mine.”

“Baby you’re a Vampire, you want blood and I promised I’m a good liar with a savior complex.”

Pre-Mizumono to Post-Fall Hannigram can be found everywhere in this song.

OKAY OKAY THATS IT IF YOU STAYED THIS LONG THANKS IF YOU WANT MORE HANNIGRAM LISTEN TO MY PLAYLIST ITS CHALK FULL OF ANGST

[thelampisaflashlight]

The ghouls, but it’s how I think they’d deal with being around my girl Dorothea for an hour. Rated out of 10. Let’s go.

Aether: It goes pretty well overall, but he keeps getting distracted by her side profile, because she looks just a smidge too similar to Copia from that angle. 

Tried to see if she smelled like Copia, too, and got gut punched/10.

Dewdrop: Ya know that meme that goes, “He looks at me, and I look at him, and he looks at me-” yeah. If you put two emotionally stunted individuals in a room together, turns out they have to spend a majority of their time together in silence.

Respectful Nod/10.

Multi/Swiss: To be fair to Swiss, he tries, okay? He really tries to get a handle on Dorothea’s vibe, but he winds up tripping up and embarrassing himself in the process.

Ghouls do experience shame apparently/10.

Rain: It goes about the same as Dorothea’s encounter with Dew, but ends with her throwing koi food into Rain’s mouth at increasingly further distances.

Dumbasses of a feather wind up in the pond together/10.

Mountain: They spend way, WAY too long talking about mushrooms, so long in fact that people have to come get them for dinner.

Dinner is temporary, shroom club is forever/10.

Cumulus: It’s another case of “Am I the weird one here?” but Cumulus manages to get a better idea of Dorothea’s personality than Swiss at least.

“You remind me of someone”/10.

Cirrus: She’s at least 98% certain Dorothea is just some kind of life sized haunted doll by the end of their encounter, and, honestly, what is man if not incredibly cursed?

Flinched when Dorothea blinked/10.

Sunshine: Tries to take Dorothea on a tour of the abbey, gets them both lost, and has to resort to pure intuition to get them back to a main hallway again.

Not all who wander are lost, but maybe stick to the path/10.

Bonus Copia: No amount of hasty internet searches on how to talk to your grown-up twenty-something almost certainly maybe daughter can help him here. 

“So how’s your mother-”/10.

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Artwork by @lonnson​​ 💜

Continuing with my series is @lonnson​​, who does not only create amazing pieces but can write as well. 💜 I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to allow me to gush over your story and answering my questions!

As always, you can look over the masterlist to see the other amazing authors I have spoken with. This series is just a BTS of some of the talented minds on Tumblr and ao3. 💜    

Story: Winterwood on ao3

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x OFC     

Rating/Warning: SA mentioned, graphic depictions of violence, major character death.

So, when did you start writing? I've liked coming up with stories since I was a kid but I never really wrote them down (I was more of an artist than a writer). I think my first "real" fanfiction was a crossover between Downton Abbey and a popular German detective audiobook series (very niche, I know 😅).

It was my first attempt at writing fanfiction and I have no idea if it was any good but at the end of the day it helped me get started on writing (hopefully) better stuff so it wasn't a waste of time.

What inspired this story? I really got into the gothic horror genre and dark fairytale retellings last year and read a lot of books with that vibe. 

The main bit of inspiration definitely came from "The Wolf and the Woodsman" by Ava Reid, which is about a girl and a one-eyed prince. When I watched House of the Dragon later that year, I immediately thought of that novel again. 

I also took some inspiration from fantasy movies I love, like Stardust or The Chronicles of Narnia.

I wanted to do creepy creatures to pop-up in my story, like the bat creatures that were inspired by the cliff ghasts from His Dark Materials. And I also love reading books about bloodthirsty faeries so I thought they fit the vibe (of Winterwood) as well. 

I also love the book "Vaesen" by Johan Egerkrans about spirits and monsters from Scandinavian folklore!

Can you explain your interpretation of Aemond? What drives him in Winterwood? What made him the way he is? I wanted to keep him relatively close to canon, because I do enjoy a good morally-grey character with villain tendencies. But obviously I also wanted to explore some stuff with him that's just my personal interpretation of Aemond.

In my story, Rhaenyra is Queen, Aegon has been executed and Aemond has been exiled to be a Night's Watch man. He's still ambitious and proud, but he's also been disillusioned by life. He can be testy and cranky but he's also feeling very lonely. He's done bad things during the war and they still haunt him. 

I also really wanted him to be somewhere on the asexual spectrum because I'm always drawn to characters who could potentially be ace in how they're portrayed in canon.

My take on Aemond is that he's never really experienced a lot of affection in his life and therefore craves but also fears it. He's interested in swordplay, studies and dragons but he's not a womanizer. And I really wanted to keep his "bad" traits. He's judgmental, testy and very, very guarded. He opens up to others at the speed of a glacier.

What inspired your character creation Lya/Skaðe? Her character kind of developed naturally as I wrote the first chapter. I didn't want her to be "Aemond's love interest", I wanted her to be the second main character of the story. 

She's as complicated as him and they're not so different from each other, which is why they don't get along at all in the beginning. They're lone wolfs, capable fighters and don't trust easily. Lya follows her own agenda and keeps some secrets that are potentially dangerous... Her name is spelled very similar to "liar" which may be a hint to her not being entirely trustworthy.

You already hinted at it, but you prefer to draw or to write? Drawing, definitely. I've drawn since I was a kid and it's still my main creative outlet. I think about fictional scenarios about 85% of the day (😅), but only very few of them are coherent enough to actually write them down. I'd LOVE to write a book though, that's the dream. Do you have a personal favorite story you'd like to share? If you happen to be a fan of The Suicide Squad, I loved anchorage by mentallyillmermaid on ao3 (I'm one of the ten people who are really into the Polka-Dot Man x Ratcatcher ship haha)

[dogmotifz]

Begging you, please, tell us more of your downton abbey thoughts. I want to hear about psychological horror abbey

Some VERY disjointed thoughts on psychological horror abbey:

- the plot of the story would very roughly be around downton as a classic Gothic Mansion, with all the suffocating psuedo-incestous family/work life that these stories entail

- Mary is the upper class aspect, Anna is the working class, and Tom is the person moving between the two worlds, acting mostly as a lower class man but able to force himself to act "civilized" when then family demands it

- All three of them are trapped in their positions; Mary as the eldest daughter can't leave the family or eschew marriage in any meaningful way, Anna obviously can't leave her class position as a servant and is considered "part of the family" by the crawlys and so can't leave them. Tom has a bit more freedom than them, as a man, but as an Irish national and a socialist he's severely limited by how much he's able to challenge the family's desires to keep him in the house with sybbie

- also as is typical in a gothic-adjacent horror: someone becoming "part of the family" (as happens to some of the servants, tom, etc) is less of an acceptance and much more of a smothering and a removal of what makes the person an individual

- In the new story I think it'd work best if all of the [borderline] sexual violence (mary & pamuk, anna & green, tom & edna, along with daisy & william (more on this below)) were narratively earlier-- maybe the new show starts in s4 and the mary&pamuk/daisy&william situations are flashbacks/implied?

- The Mary/Matthew romance is less of a "real" romance and more of a coerced marriage, drawn up between Matthew and Cora to keep the secret of Pamuk's rape of Mary/death within the family

- [john] bates' desire for revenge becomes less "noble man defending his wife" and more "completely average and normal man taking a violation of his wife's autonomy as a violation of his marriage and his exclusive right to her body." (Sidenote: I think this is what the show is actually doing and not noticing it. lol.)

- I honestly can't believe I left daisy out of the original post. I don't think she's exactly a victim of sexual violence, but I do think that being coerced into dating and then marrying william while he's on his deathbed must have done fascinating things to her mind. (I also think this aspect of her life is handled much better by the show as it is than Anna/Mary/Tom's subplots, but whatever.)

- I think in this au either a) William survives, and Daisy is forced into a loveless marriage and motherhood with him, technically able to divorce him but discouraged from doing so on all sides because "it would break his heart," or b) William dies, and Daisy is [either literally or psychologically] haunted by him for the rest of the show, convinced that she's damned to hell for lying to a man on his deathbed

- one thing that's present in the current show that I think could very quickly become horror is the relative isolation of the abbey. the whole crawly family runs the town but outside of the hospital scenes in the early eps and some fair scenes, we see incredibly little of the townspeople that the family rules over.

- I can picture the townsfolk fervently avoiding any discussion/news of the abbey, preferring to keep to themselves, which is noble when they're being lorded over by robert but not when Anna comes into town the day after her rape and none of the townsfolk will meet her eye

- I have very little idea of how the story would really end, but I WILL say I'm only like 50% joking with the posts about daisy burning down the house with everyone in it

[this-curiouscat]

🌠 and 📖

🌠 A game with a mechanic I love.

I really love the Unscene and Echoes in the Night mechanic from The Between by Jason Cordova (a game about Victorian monster hunters in London, inspired by Penny Dreadful).

The Unscene describes a different scene in the same night that is completely unrelated to the main plot and unseen (get it?) by any of the PCs or NPCs. Each Unscene takes place at a different location and is guided by prompts (answered by the players taking turns) and intends to show that a lot more than the PCs plot is going on in London. (It's also a timer for the Night phase but I'm not a huge fan of the strict separation of the Day and Night phases of the game, so we'll ignore that here.)

It ties in with the Echoes in the Night mechanic, which grants you XP when you manage to nevertheless tie the Unscene together with the main plot by echoing an element from one in the other (either way around).

For example, if you first mention the blood-red gloves your character is wearing and then, a little later, describe a theatrical performance that ends with a murderer having blood all over their hands, that's an Echo in the Night.

It incentivizes you to connect images and vibes and not just plotlines, and I think that's a fantastic and very effective idea that I'm just waiting to use in one of my own games eventually.

📖 My favorite class or playbook from a game.

I recently played Dream Apart (a Jewish fantasy of the shtetl) by Benjamin Rosenbaum for the first time, so let's talk about The Midwife.

The Midwife is, well, a midwife. You get to choose a name, a type of hands, an outlook, two advantages, a thing you've seen, someone who you've angered, and 2 shtetl relationships. (Each playbook has different categories in this game.) And that's your Midwife.

You can play Tovah, for example, with stubborn hands and a pantheist outlook (because of course everything is alive in its own way), who has a remarkable sense of smell and the advantage of humility. She may have seen a cottage deep in the forest and have angered the market women by defending the prostitutes (using the game's term her). She may be a young bride's only hope and her lover may have broken her heart.

(Do you see her? Finely attuned to smell the slightest scent of death and disease? Working tirelessly to save as many lives as she can? Being the one the shtetl women go to for contraceptive or abortifacient or soothing herbs and brews? The one who knows about the horse urine and wild licorice? Heart-broken by the woman who left her for a marriage to a man? And always feeling responsible for fixing everyone else's problems and guilty if she can't.)

You can also play Binyamin, for another example, with gentle hands and an idealist outlook, who has perfect memory, and an unflappable sense of humor, despite everything. He may have seen the abbey's catacombs and angered the rabbinical council by defying a ban. He may be resented by the city-educated doctor and suspected by the goyish priest.

(Do you see him? Ever-curious and willing to defy any authority trying to keep him from learning more? Never speaking about what haunts him except in jest? And yet hopeful, steadfast in his belief that a more just world is possible? And lonely, probably a lot more lonely than you'd think.)

The Midwife is blood and birth and death and earthy magic. They're justice and sacrifice and the constant search for balance, within and without themself. Melancholic hope, caring anger, and an awareness of monstrosity, both human and otherwise.

The Midwife makes me think of Granny Weatherwax and Tiffany Aching, of duty and severity, of a plain, practical shell with a core of fiery-soft anger necessary to Do The Work.

It has been a delight to play a Midwife for a few hours, and I hope I'll get to do so again!

[lesbienneanarchiste]

basic summary/context for prisca's story/character? i've pieced together little bits from tags but not a ton!

SO. Prisca Secunda my beloved, she was once a midwife's apprentice in 152 BCE Rome and her besties were her mentor Agrippina and her older sister Prima. This guy Marcus starts courting the very beautiful Prima and he is very very wealthy and has the favor of a gaggle of Senators so this would be an excellent match for Prima except that there's just something off abt him so even their dad is like, "please just marry a nicer boy from our neighborhood even if he is less rich bc that guy Marcus creeps me tf out". Marcus doesn't take well to Prima's rejection and keeps harassing her so Prisca finally stands up to him on her sister's behalf and turns out he's been a vampire the whole time and he turns her into one too and then fucks off, leaving Prisca to figure out what's happened to her and how to survive. Because she has no idea abt anything and is basically working off newly developed instincts, she accidentally turns both Prima and Agrippina into vampires as well and Marcus shows up again like "hm I feel bad, maybe you should come with me to Gaul and I'll teach you how to be good vampires :)" and then the carnage really kicks in bc he is not a good person at all and they all end up having this weird fucked up unhealthy codependent dynamic that lasts until the late 1700s when they finally murder-suicide their way into being at peace 😌

That is theeee most basic of explanations but the like. Core things I'm really interested in are: where humanity begins and ends, what isolation and desperation and trauma will do to fuck up how you relate to the people around you, what happens when you don't choose to be the bigger person, how immortality warps your sense of life and time, and also what happens when you take people's good qualities and scale them up so high they become incredible flaws. E.g. Prisca values information and is somewhat arrogant about her knowledge and education so at one point in the middle ages she burns down an abbey bc they won't allow her to access their library and if she can't read the texts, no one should. Prima as a human was very driven by love and wanted to have a big happy family so as a vampire, she kills all her lovers when she starts to feel like they don't love her obsessively enough. Etc.

It's also about like. Things could have been good. Or at least better. But their only lifeline was Marcus and he shaped them in his fucked up image so even centuries after Prisca finally kills him, he is still haunting the narrative with every bad decision Prisca, Prima, and Agrippina make. But at the same time, they are the ones making those decisions and how long can you blame the circumstances of your "birth" before it just becomes you refusing to break the cycle of trauma and abuse? How long can you pretend your obsessive need to control the people you claim to love is actually about the love and not about the control?

It's all told as Prisca's memoirs with some brief interludes from Prima and Agrippina's persepectives and I'm obsessed with them 😌❤️

[sobriquett]

Dear Unsent Letters 2024 Author,

Thank you for thinking of writing for me for this year's Unsent Letters exchange!

I've requested all of these fandoms before (and probably reblogged many pretty gif sets) so if these ideas don't spark joy then please feel free to see what I've requested before. On the other hand, if you have your own idea before you've read any further, then please run with that. This letter -- and my letters can sometimes get long -- is here to help, not to hinder... I hope!

Please find below some loves, likes and DNWs, and then prompts by fandom (in alphabetical order!):

DNWs for All Fandoms

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics | Anyone being called “Daddy” in a sexual context | Bestiality | Body Horror | Gore | Medical Experimentation | Mpreg | Mutilation | Non-Canonical Amputation | Sadism | Scat | Torture | Vore

General Likes and Loves

5+1 Times | Alternate Endings | Angst | Backstory | Banter/Bickering | Bittersweet | Canon Compliant | Canon Divergence | Character Death | Character Death Aftermath | Character Study | Class Differences | Coming of Age | Competence | Complicated Sibling Relationships | Cultural Differences | Dark Fic | Debt & Financial Pressures | Despair | Disabled Characters | Domesticity | Different Worldviews | Enemies to Friends/Lovers | Epistolary | Examining Societal Issues | First Meetings | First Time | Fix-It | Fluff | Found Family | Friends/Lovers to Enemies | Grief/Mourning | Grumpy Character/Sunshine Character | Historical Details | Humour | Hurt/Comfort | Last Time | Laws of Magic | Living Up/Down to Expectations | Long-Distance Friendship | Marriage of Convenience | Miscommunication | Missing Moment | Obeying Canonical Boundaries (Social/Cultural/Moral) | Outsider POV | Parent/Child Relationships | Pining | Platonic Intimacy | Politics & Intrigue | Poor Life Choices | Post-Canon | Pre-Canon | Pregnancy & Babies | Presumed Dead | Protectiveness | Redemption | Religious Elements | Reunions | Romance | Sad Endings | Secret Relationships | Uneven Power Dynamics | Unexpected/Unlikely Friendship | Unreliable Narrators | Whump | Worldbuilding

Darkfic Likes

Apocalypse | Betrayal | Character Death | Character Death Aftermath | Claustrophobia | Conspiracy | Debt & Financial Pressures | Degradation | Disease | Dubious Consent | Dystopia | Fire | Forced Marriage | Gaslighting | Hauntings | Humiliation | Hypothermia | Infertility | Miscarriage/Pregnancy Loss | Murder | Paranoia | Poisoning | Prison | PTSD | Shame | Suicide | Terminal Illness | Unhappy Endings

Smut Likes (and more power to you if you can use these in epistolary fic!)

Biting/Marking | Bondage | Canon Compliant/Historically Appropriate (esp. period fandoms) | Desperate Sex | Dirty Talk | Dubcon | Edging/Orgasm Delay | Fingering | First Times | Fisting | Foreplay | Hair Pulling/Touching/Playing | Last Times | Loss of virginity (either/both/all partners) | Oral (any/all combinations/intensities/setups) | Porn with Feelings | Power Imbalance (Physical or Social/Financial/Other) | Restraint/Held Down | Rough Sex | Semi-Public Sex | Sensual Details | Vanilla Sex

1. Bridgerton (TV)

Letters during Anthony and Kate's engagement, or letters home from their honeymoon (which canonically lasts six months!)

What's in Colin and Penelope's correspondence during his summer in Greece?

2. Downton Abbey

Letters to and from the front during the war

Violet's correspondence with Edith and Rosamund while they are away "practicing their French"

3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë

Letters between Jane at Ferndean and Adele at school

How is the Thornfield fire reported in the press? Is the aborted wedding reported?

Does Jane ever write to Miss Temple for advice, or to keep in touch?

4. North and South - Elizabeth Gaskell | UK TV

I would be delighted with either book or TV fic; I love both.

Articles about this unexpected marriage? Would there be a difference between reporting in Milton and reporting in London?

Along the same theme, what about Outsider POV on the relationship via letters, with family and friends writing to one another? How does Hannah write the news to Edith? Mrs Shaw, Edith, the Lennoxes? How does Frederick find and/or take the news?

Letters between Margaret and John during their engagement, or perhaps when they are obliged to be apart during their marriage.

An ONDB/Wikipedia article on John, Margaret, even Higgins, recapping their life and successes?

5. The West Wing

Copied from a past Unsent Letters letter:

I am extra specially excited about the idea of books and articles for this fandom, but it’s also the only one where emails/texts could be a thing here. So much possible fun! News articles, political blogs, email chains, text messages, speech transcripts, press briefing transcripts!

The assistants giving outsider POV on canonical events, with commentary/misunderstandings/D-plot drama?

Josh and Donna awkwardness or sweetness? I ship them, but can read it both in a “desperate pining” and “friendship/love” sort of way.

Donna keeps a diary.

Email chains, notes/memos in the office, fun reports? So many possibilities using the fandom.

They make a lot of reference to funny or awkward typos in the show; there may be some fun to have there, even in just a background sort of way. I have one of those will-spot-the-single-typo-on-a-menu-and-never-unsee-it sort of brains, so throw some in just for fun, I will see them and rejoice.

I am just excited for anything, and love all the characters dearly, and any others you choose to include. Equally, if you do go for one of the big group tags, please feel free to add or drop characters as you need to if it makes it work for you, I’m not precious, and it’s right here saved forever in my signup that it’s totally cool with me.

Otherwise:

Gaza angst

King Corn angst

Anything closely linked to an episode - I've seen this show enough times that I should be able to jump right in

Desperate pining, on either side

[downtonabbeyrevisited]

Season Two Episode Two

Following a typically chaotic opener, Episode Two of Season Two strikes a far more sombre tone. The arrival of Henry Lang as Robert’s valet brings the first of this episode’s three plot points that address the impact of WW1 on the mental health of its soldiers. There is nothing funny to say about either shell-shock or suicidal ideation both of which are vast, complex issues that, for my money, Downton Abbey isn’t the vehicle explore in (because they require more time and depth than the pace of the plot in Season Two affords) and it certainly isn’t my place to make light of them in this rather irreverent corner of the internet. So I’m going to have a go at treading a fine line here. Forgive me if I stumble. 

Lang is clearly in the grips of something awful and yet in an attempt to avoid the indignity of having maids in the dining room, he is bumped up to footman duty. He struggles throughout, culminating in him depositing his cargo on Edith’s dress. Mrs O’Brein has firmly taken Lang under her wing, recognising that he is struggling and offers him assurance and comfort that she has never gifted to Thomas. 

Across the Village, Lieutenant Edward Courtenay is in the hospital having been blinded by gas. The use of gas (both chlorine and mustard) had a devastating impact on soldiers in WW1 but was also the root of the development of Zyklon B. Frtiz Haber, a German Jewish chemist, enabled chlorine gas to be used a weapon in WW1 and his research was later developed into the Zyklon process which was used by the Nazis to murder millions, including his own family. This is only one of a dizzying number of appalling ironies to be found in the World Wars but as I said last episode, I’m not a military historian so I’m going to leave it there. Edward had plans to return to the country after his graduation from Oxford to pursue the simple life (although one gets the feeling that his idea of the pursuit of a simple life will still be one that is very well upholstered). Thomas has taken it upon himself to read Edward’s letters to him and  together with Sybil is helping him to adjust to living life with a different set of parameters. But growing pressure on the hospital’s limited capacity means that he is to be transferred elsewhere. All three voice their dissent at varying volumes to Major Clarkson who falls back on the very real backlog of wounded men. After Edward has died, Major Clarkson, Isobel and Sybil talk about a renewed need for the Abbey to become a convalescent home, an idea that has been bubbling under the surface for a while now. Meanwhile, Thomas has been left on his own to process both Edward’s death and the implications of witnessing a lack of support given by his own physician to those with depression.  

The usually reliably jovial Mrs Patmore also has a more somber episode with her pursuit for the truth about the death of her nephew Archie. Robert finds that he has been shot for cowardice. Not only does this mean that her family is in mourning but they will now have to navigate the stigma and undue shame that came with having a relative die in this way. So entrenched in British life was the derision levelled at those who were shot for cowardice or desertion that it was only in 2006 that pardons were offered by Britain for 309 of those that were executed by firing squad during WW1. I know I said I’d leave it there with the military history, but that felt like an important bit of context. 

We are now in 1917 and Matthew is still in the same trench that he was in 1916 (a detail I hadn’t actually noticed until I got the screen cap for this) so it looks like his strategy of downing tools mid-fight and continuously popping back to Blighty for important plot developments isn’t really paying dividends. Perhaps the addition of William to the ranks will help him? William certainly seems to think so and if the speed at which he moves through the various stages of his ‘relationship’ with Daisy is any indication of his tactical prowess, the British Front will not only be well within Germany’s borders but will be breathing down Russia’s neck in a fortnight. In any other episode, this would certainly get the award for oddest relationship dynamic but Sir Richard Carlisle exists. 

Sir Richard makes his debut at Downton, having been introduced in name only in the previous episode. He and Mary met at Cliveden which is a regular haunt of mine, giving me hope that one day I too will from a strategic alliance with a newspaper magnate. He may know how to talk his way around a boardroom but he is lacking in the sartorial department. Whilst Sir Richard manages to avoid catching fire in his tweed, Lavinia is not free from the heat as he threatens her with his connection to her uncle. He may not know much about navigating the niceties of Downton, but at least he has cottoned on to the fact that any major disagreement should occur under a specific tree. Whilst Mary’s signature move is weeping into her gloves, Sir Richard’s is grabbing women by the forearm. A female friend of mine told me that one of her favourite things about the pandemic and the compulsion to keep 2m away from anyone (and not just emotionally) is that she has not been ’steered’ by a male hand on her lower back since 2019. It turns out that she can enter and exit rooms just fine on her own and I get the impression that Lavinia could get the gist of Sir Richard’s rage without the vice like grip of a man probably about twice her age. 

Twinned with the ’tree of emotional conflict’, the ‘platform of romantic uncertainty’ provides the backdrop for Sir Richard’s proposal of marriage to Mary which is a declaration that really feels like it should come with a series of well-formatted charts. Mary’s heart, however, is still very much with Cousin Matthew. After being counselled by Carson in a type of conversation I cannot imagine her ever having with her father, she is on the verge of coming clean with Matthew. But in the second round of Lavinia vs. Mary, Lavinia declares that she ‘could not go on living’ without Matthew and Mary winds her neck in. 

Also having a romantic entanglement this episode is Edith. Drake, previously of dropsy fame, has lost his farm hands and Edith turns up to offer her help in a wildly unsuitable trouser and heeled boot combo. But she soon gets down to it by pulling up a tree stump and flirting in a barn whilst a rather lovely border collie looks on (I’m currently trying to talk myself out of getting a border collie and this incident has done nothing to help things). After showing Drake that she can drink from a bottle like literally every single other human on the planet, the two share a kiss and some highly awkward dialogue that only slightly resembles ‘Carry on Downton’. 

Whilst Edith is more than happy to crack on in a barn, Mr Molesley is much more backwards about coming forwards. Apparently having predicted the creation of ‘The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society’, he figures that a book is the perfect kindling for romance when you exist in a glossy depiction of the past. Sadly neither Elizabeth nor her German garden can lure Anna from Bates who is fast shaping up to be schrodinger’s boyfriend. Anna proceeds to make some odd analogy where she compares Mr Bates to her moon-based child, revealing a rather unhealthy amount of codependency in that particular relationship. 

Romantic declaration of the moment 

Again, it feels like anyone but Sybil and Branson should get this but I am an agent of chaos and here we are. Branson defends Sybil’s will to work and has ample opportunity to see her shine in her chosen field. The admission that she will not be returning to her old life is a little chink of light that Branson basks in. 

Expressive eyebrow of the week 

I nominate Carson’s entire face when he realises that he has taken on too much and goes an impressive shade of red. As Carson frets about spoons, sauce, and something I can’t quite fathom, he starts to resemble a man who is re-arranging the deckchairs on the Titanic. Carson’s battle to get a cork out of a bottle and knocking into chairs is a warm up to his rather dramatic collapse which is accompanied by a pretty disturbing groan. Sybil springs to action and he is soon efficiently ensconced in his own quarters. 

Wait, what? 

“I got a lot done on the train” Clearly Richard was on a train that was unencumbered with the wifi issues that plague the Pendolino.  

“It takes a good deal more than that to shock me.” Mary’s shock-o-meter is a pretty odd instrument. It is unresponsive to corpses of diplomats but goes into absolute meltdown at the notion that she might have to live in a cottage. 

“Let's hope my reputation will survive it.” I’ve not checked (and I categorically never will) but I would put money on the fact that someone has created a rarepair out of this. 

“How can Matthew have chosen that little blonde piece?” Is Lavinia blonde? Women’s hair is not really my forte but I would have thought she was more akin to Tim Minchin than 1998 Justin Timberlake. 

“I believe in this war. I believe in what we are fighting for.” William seems to have a better grip on what all of this is about than I ever did in high school history. The ‘A’ that eluded me is heading his way. 

“I thought he might've died for love of you.” How I love snipey Thomas. It’s good to have him back. To borrow a quote from Bottas (another man who is currently living a life in which his destiny is his own demise) ‘traditions’. 

“Fold it in, don’t slap it” The more season two goes on, the more I think that Moira is just an amalgamation of some choice elements of Julian’s kingdom. 

[hopelikethemoon]

Bright Star || Moonbeam II || (Ezra x Reader) {Werewolf AU} [smut]

Title: Bright Star Rating: Explicit Length: 5,300 Warnings: Smut (slight cockwarming, Ezra being a menace, sex) and gratuitous poetry reading.  Reader Details: To the best of my knowledge, there are no references to Reader’s physical details, beyond being a bisexual woman. I tried my best to keep it as vague as possible. Notes: Oops, I wrote another chapter (one of hopefully many more). It’s spookytime and I’m a monster fucker that can’t be tamed. Part two of Moonbeams (read it before you read this chapter!)

Taglist: @thedaysarenotfull​ @princessbatears​ @djarin-junk​ @absurdthirst​ @hdlynn​ @legally-a-bastard​ @opheliaelysia​ @heather-lynn​ @sabinemorans​ @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons​​ @pedrospunk​​ @maybege​​ @chews-erotically​​ @katlikeme​​ @lose-eels​​ @youmeanmybrain​​ @theindiealto​​ @irishleesh93​​ @seawhisperer​ @hdlynn​ @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ @theindiealto​

When you first returned to Lykaois, Ezra refused to let you into his transport-turned-home. He peered out at you through the barely cracked durasteel door and told you that he needed another day alone. 

He promptly sealed the door closed and left you standing in the brisk morning air. You left War & Peace sitting outside the door, but took the cheese back with you. He could have one — but not both. 

You went straight back to your own transport, despite the strong temptation to venture out beyond the now-familiar path. You weren’t sure if it was Ezra’s warnings — or the stories you’d heard back on the Block. 

Shiva had been horrified that you wanted to return to Lykaois. You hadn’t told them about Ezra and maybe you should have. But who would’ve believed you? 

“I’ve met a very unusual man who happens to have a very talented mouth. Don’t worry, he’s just a reclusive werewolf who can’t leave the moon he lives on. I’ve decided to forgo the next steady harvest cycle to stay with him between full moons.” 

There was no way Shiva wouldn’t drive a stun gun into your thigh and have you checked over on the next medical freighter to dock at the Block. 

Especially not after Shiva had rattled off a long list of failed voyages to Lykaois. The rumors were not without truth. Miners gone missing, survivors raving about great beasts, and a few failed voyages from the infected who went mad somewhere in hyperspace. 

You were desperate to get your hands on the list — the names of those that had allegedly perished on Lykaois. You wanted to know if Ezra was on them. But you didn’t want to pry. 

In the short window of time that you had spent with Ezra, you had gathered that he was a private sort of person. He kept himself distant from the others who were like him, he spoke often of solo missions, and he provided only a scintilla of information about his life before Lykaois. 

You had done a lot of foolish things over the course of your life, but Ezra was the wildest endeavor yet. 

He wasn’t like anyone else you had encountered — and not just because of what he was. It was his books. You were good at very little, but you prided yourself on your collection of books and his own collection could rival yours. 

Ezra knew quotes by heart that you thought only you had memorized, stowed away in your soul in case you ever lost your books or your sight. There was very little to care about beyond the greed that had torn the galaxy apart. But books always mattered. 

The passing of written knowledge separated man from beast, didn’t it? Perhaps that was what had kept Ezra grounded, when the others had lost themselves. 

The next morning brought with it the same cool weather from the morning before. 

So you ventured just outside the door of your transport, with Northanger Abbey clutched in one hand and a small stool in the other. 

Ezra had said he needed one more day. If he was ready to see you, he could come to you. You weren’t going to risk the journey through the forest, just to be shut out again. 

You understood why. He had just transformed into a monster — he needed time. But it still stung to have the door slammed in your face with very little explanation. 

Hopefully he was enjoying War & Peace and the litany of annotations you had made in it, up until the point you had left it at his door. You hadn’t had quite enough time to finish reading it through. 

A branch snapped somewhere just beyond the clearing where you had landed the transport. You narrowed your eyes, scanning the forest line hesitantly. 

“Ezra?” You questioned hesitantly, your voice raised just enough to pierce the nearest parts of the forest. 

Another branch snapped and your fingers tightened around the spine of your book. Maybe you should go back inside —

A stag emerged from the treeline, at least one that looked not so dissimilar from the etchings you’d seen once. Larger perhaps than what people used to see, but with wide-reaching antlers and tar-colored patches of fur. 

The stag seemed disinterested in you, more concerned with finding a grazing spot for himself and the flock of does that trailed from the forest behind him. 

Cervos. You had seen them mentioned in one of the fauna pamphlets Shiva had found whilst planning how they would rescue you from Lykaois. 

You sank back against the hull of your transport, crossing your leg over your knee and propping your book open there. You could coexist with a herd of cervos enjoying a crisp morning feast. 

The moon hadn’t been fully explored — for obvious reasons — but from what you had seen, beyond Ezra and his kind, most of the creatures were docile. 

You let yourself get lost in the first handful of chapters of Northanger Abbey, sucking happily on one of the honeysticks you had found for Ezra. 

If he didn’t show up today — the cheese and honey would be off the table for this trip. You’d given him War & Peace because he needed something to do to pass the time, especially if he was still recovering from his transformation. Food would be reinforcement only if you got to ensure he was alright.

You cared and maybe that was the problem. Ezra hadn’t fully warmed up to the idea of you coming back to Lykaois, right up until the last few minutes before you left. 

A harsh growl interrupted your thoughts and your eyes snapped up to see the whites of the cervos’ eyes as he and his herd tore off across the clearing. A beast — a true beast — emerged from the forest, eyes lingering on you only briefly before chasing after the cervos. 

You scrambled. Blood rushing in your ears as your heart pounded in your throat. Your favourite shawl caught in the hermetic seal of your door as you made it inside and you didn’t even care — not so long as you were in one piece. 

That didn’t look like anything you had seen in the pamphlets Shiva had shoved in your face. That seemed… large and terrifying. 

A bi-ped beast that stood well beyond the height of any mortal man. Was that what Ezra looked like? Was that Ezra?

Maybe you should leave. Head back to the Block and jump on whatever shitty enlistment was left on the rosters. Probably the Green — they loved sending the low-draws out on those missions. 

But even fear hadn’t soured the honey-sweet taste on your tongue. Ezra had said he needed one more day. You would give him one more day. 

Hope waned as the sun dipped down below the horizon. You sat in the cockpit of your transport, watching the last light slip out of view through the nav-window. 

Ezra hadn’t shown and as badly as you wanted to go to his transport and tell him you were leaving — you were haunted by the face of the beast you had seen. Intelligent eyes on a fearsome form. 

It had to have been Ezra. Even like that there was something about his eyes. Kind eyes. Warm eyes. 

A knock echoed through the quiet corridor of your transport. Once and then twice. 

You kept one hand on your weapon, keeping it holstered at your hip as you moved to open the door — just a crack. You peered out through the space into the inky black night. 

“I know I’m late, moonbeam,” Ezra said as he stepped into your line of view, the faint glimmer of stars above lighting his face. 

“I was going to leave,” You told him, keeping the door partially closed. 

He chuckled wryly. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“Are you… are you okay?” You questioned, opening the door a fraction further. 

“As well as one can be after the full moon.” He sighed heavily. “I can come back in the morning.” 

“No.” You knew you were taking a risk, but you pulled open the door anyways. “Come in.” 

Ezra seemed to be carrying a weight on his shoulders as he stepped over the threshold. He needed new clothes. You hadn't thought to bring any this time — but he had on the same threadbare khaki green reg shirt he’d worn last month. 

“I thought about coming this morning,” He admitted to you, awkwardly shifting on his feet. “But after breakfast I was exhausted. I’m still exhausted.” 

“So you slept?” You questioned, taking a shuffling step backwards, before turning away and making yourself busy with ensuring the transport was secured for the night — though you’d already let the danger inside. 

Ezra hummed quietly, “I fell into the most illustrious of slumbers, little lamb.” 

“I have so many questions,” You admitted, glancing back at him. “But I don’t want to pry.” 

“You have been quite magnanimous with me,” He pointed out, folding his arms across his chest. “I think you’re justified in your questioning.”

You turned back to face him and held his gaze, “What do you look like when you change?”

His brows furrowed, but there was no light in his eyes that told you that he knew that you had seen him — or a creature like him. “I’ve never seen my own reflection, but… the beast that attacked me was larger than a bear.” He scratched at his jaw thoughtfully. “Broad.”

“I see.” You looked down at your feet for a moment before reaching out to touch him, fingers brushing over a fraying spot on the shirt, just below his collarbone. “I resisted the urge to do my own research.”

“Really?” Ezra cracked a faint smile, meeting your gaze. “I thought you would’ve returned with volumes of forgotten lore about my kind.” He waved his hand grandly. 

“Easy there Edgar Allen Poe.” You tapped your thumb against his collarbone. 

“There’s someone I haven’t read in awhile,” He hesitantly reached out and trailed his fingers down your side to rest at your hip. “Thank you for War & Peace and for the notes…”

“I made it through half of the novel before I started back here.” You brushed your fingers up the column on his throat, cupping his cheek. “Maybe I’ll add more notes before I leave again.”

“I think I would like that,” Ezra murmured, leaning in to kiss you. His hand snaked around from your side to the small of your back, pulling you towards him as you brushed your lips over his. 

You grabbed at his side, fingers sliding over the soft fabric of his shirt as you leaned against him. You let him guide the kiss — savoring the quiet hesitation of his movements as he explored your mouth all over again. 

Ezra guided you backwards, pinning you against the cool durasteel wall. He felt so much larger than you — all that wiry muscle felt like a solid mass beneath your fingers as you ran your hand up his chest. 

A quiet growl rose up in the back of his throat as your fingers slid through his hair, tugging at it just right. The sound reminded you of the beast — the massive hulk of a monster that could have torn you in two with his hands. 

You tensed and Ezra must’ve noticed the way your body went rigid beneath him. He rested his forehead against yours, “You found the honeysticks.”

“What?” You blinked up at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Oh! Yes. I have the cheese for you too.” 

Ezra exhaled heavily, before taking a step back. “I apologize if I ever overstepped—“

“No.” You shook your head, grabbing at his forearm before he could slip out of your hold. Maybe you should tell him what you saw. “It’s I, um.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “It’s new for me.” 

His eyes narrowed briefly as he studied your face. “Right.” Ezra breathed out, “Am I right in my recollection, that you have a lovely copy of Keats?”

“I do,” You slid your fingers down his arm, taking ahold of his hand and guiding him down the corridor to your quarters. It wasn’t much. 

A thin mattress topping the alcove bed that was just large enough for two. In a tight transport vessel, space had to be used wisely. A panel slid down from above the bed, transforming it into an additional desk space — not that you needed it. You had more than enough space for just you. 

“Make sure yourself comfortable,” You told Ezra, releasing your hold on his hand to move towards your stack of books. You knelt down, skimming your fingers over the spines until you spotted the book you were looking for. 

Carefully, you pulled it from the stack, balancing the other dozen books just right so they didn’t tumble over. “Keats’s Poetical Works.” You said as you brandished the worn green book and ran your thumb over the gilded gold design along its spine. “Which is your favorite?”

Ezra had crowded himself into the alcove of your bed, scratching at his scruffy jaw. “Ode on Melancholy.” 

“I don’t know what I expected,” You shook your head offering him a wry grin before flipping open the book to the index page, finding the number and turning to it. “No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist. Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine; nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d.”

“Wolf’s bane. I had forgotten that line.” Ezra mused, his eyes raking over you briefly, before settling back on your face. “Go on.” 

You cleared your throat, shifting somewhat nervously on your feet before continuing. “By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine. Make not your rosary of yew-berries. Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be. Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl. A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries; for shade to shade will come too drowsily. And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.” 

Ezra watched you with a quiet reverence that you weren’t certain any other lover had looked at you with. It was hard to rectify the beast you had seen in the morning, with the man laying in your bed. 

You closed the book abruptly, faltering on the last few lines of the poem. “Sorry.”

“Little lamb, what is it?” Ezra questioned, his jaw clenched tight as he scooted to the edge of your bed. “I can go. There is no reason for me to overstay your—“

“I saw you this morning,” You blurted out, biting down on your bottom lip until you swore you tasted blood. 

“What?” He stared back at you blankly. “How is that possible?”

You blinked slowly, “Maybe it wasn’t you, but I saw someone this morning.” 

Ezra swallowed thickly. “Did it try to hurt you?”

“No.” You shook your head, closing the distance between the two of you, sinking down onto the edge of your bed beside him. “I was sitting outside reading and this herd of — I think they’re called Cervos — were grazing. This… this thing came out of the woods and.” You drew your knees to your chest, resting your chin there as you stared straight ahead. “I saw it’s eyes… your eyes.”

“I thought I had control.” Ezra’s voice wavered. “When you showed up yesterday, everything was still on fire.” 

“It’s been days since the full moon.” You tilted your head to look at him, “Are you using the lunaxium?”

“Yes.” He dragged his fingers through his hair as he hung his head. “I knew you were coming back, I wasn’t looking to ruin this. Not like this.” 

“Ezra,” You whispered, reaching out to curl your fingers around his shoulder. “You haven’t ruined anything. I’m here, aren’t I?” 

“Foolishly.” He reached up and took your hand off his shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he brought it to his lips. “You should’ve washed your hands of Lykaois. There’s nothing here for you.”

“You’re here.” 

“And what am I?” He questioned, a sharp edge to his voice. “I don’t do pity. That may flatter others, but I’m not one of them. This can go nowhere. I will either hurt you or you will get bored and frankly, I prefer the latter.” 

Your mouth felt dry as you turned to stare at him, “I don’t do pity, either.” You managed, “And for someone who seems so hellbent on convincing me to leave, you’re holding my hand awfully tight.”

Ezra looked down at your entangled fingers.

“I could’ve left after what I saw this morning—“

“You should’ve.” 

“But I stayed.” You squeezed his hand tight. “And I let you in.” 

“I could hurt you.” 

“We’ve been through this, Ezra.” You held his gaze. “I nearly went back to jump on a voyage to the Green — I’m aware of imminent danger.”

“A dangerous journey to be certain.” His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “I wonder if I ate the cervos.”

“What?”

“I woke up starving, not at all like I’d just eaten my fill of a fresh kill.” His brows furrowed together. 

“I didn’t stick around to find out.” You made a face, leaving him with Keats as you got up from the bed to retrieve a honeystick from a pouch hanging off the corner of your shelf. “Here.” 

Ezra caught ahold of the stick as you tossed it to him. “You are an angel among the stars, moonbeam.”

“And you’re stuck with me.” You told him firmly, hands on your hips. “Not just because I bring you food.”

He flashed you a crooked grin that didn’t last nearly long enough as he sank back into the alcove of your bed. “You have blessed me with both companionship and the comforts that my belly has not known in many moons. Even if it’s a fool’s errand.” 

You watched as he tore open the end of the stick and sucked the honey from the tube. “I believe it tasted sweeter on your lips.”

“You’ve been among poets for too long.” 

Ezra winked at you, “Again and again, their spellbinding words keep me comfort on my loneliest nights.” He gave you a curious look, “And who keeps you warm at night, lamb?”

“Jealous?”

He pursed his lips, “I don’t think a man bound to a moon has any place to be jealous. I am simply curious to know what life is like for someone beyond my little world.”

“I’m not terribly exciting,” You admitted with a shrug as you sat down beside him again, removing your holster from your belt and settling it on the floor by your foot. “My last dalliance was two years ago?” You questioned, trying to recall just how long it had been. “We met at the cantina on the Block.”

“Gambling?” He questioned, before licking at the honeystick to get the last sticky drops. 

“I won the lion’s share that night.” You smirked at him. “Beat her less than fair and square and still woke up to her in my bed.” 

He nudged your leg with his knee, “Impressive.” 

“She was.” You arched a brow at him. “Played the long game too, because she stole a unit of cabalton from my room before she left. Worth more than anything she gambled away the night before.” 

Ezra laughed, shaking his head. “It would seem you have a type.”

“Oh?”

He nodded slowly, “That little trick sounds like the cunning games I once got up to. Perhaps this is karma.” 

“Well, karma was kind enough to allow me to cross paths with you.”

Ezra frowned, picking at a bit of fuzz on his shirt. “I suppose you’re right.” 

“I’m going to bring you new clothes when I come back,” You told him, reaching out to bat his fingers away from the fraying spot where the fuzz was. “Would you like that?”

“You have only been here one day, little lamb. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

You ignored him, “What size shoes do you wear?” 

Ezra sighed heavily, “You’ll have to get me out of them to find out. I haven’t a clue, honestly.” 

“Men.” You huffed. “I’m sure you’ll be out of everything sooner or later.”

“So sure of yourself.” 

“Says the man who tried to pin me against the wall within minutes of me letting them inside.”

“I—“

“I would be lying if I said I hadn’t envisioned something exactly like that since the last time.” You waved off his worries. “Will you read Keats to me?”

“Of course,” Ezra plucked up the book as you shuffled your pillows around so you could prop yourself up at his side. 

You were lulled into an unfamiliar contentment as he breathed steadily beside you, your eyes fixed on a little patch of belly that was visible where his shirt had ridden up from his pants. 

He licked the tip of his thumb as he turned the pages to his poem of choice. 

“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art— Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night. And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite. The moving waters at their priestlike task of pure ablution round earth's human shores or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask. Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—“

You were transfixed by the way his tongue never faltered over a word, his eyes scanning the page like he was revisiting old friends that he once knew as fondly as you knew them. 

“No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast. To feel for ever its soft fall and swell awake for ever in a sweet unrest. Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, and so live ever—or else swoon to death.”

You should have known he’d choose Bright Star. Of all the poems, of all the pieces, it’s quiet longing, the comparison of nature and man’s unwavering steadiness — it seemed right.

Ezra tilted his head to look down at you, warm eyes meeting yours. It was hard to rectify what you had seen at the forest’s edge with the man beside you. They both had the same soft chestnut hair, the same kind eyes, but one looked made to tear you apart and the other looked—

“Does Keats always have such an arousing affect on you, little lamb?” He questioned, setting the book aside so he could curl his arm beneath you. 

You felt a warm flush burning at your cheeks as you tilted your face towards his, “I think it had everything to do with the man reading Keats.” You traced your thumb over the scar on his cheek. 

Ezra ran his tongue over his bottom lip, working his jaw slowly as he searched for his words, “After what you saw this morning, I understand if you would prefer that we just rest.” He told you, dragging his fingers over your side. 

“I should be afraid,” You brushed your fingers through the hair that fell against his forehead, combing them back to toy with the blonde patch of hair. “But I’m not, Ezra.”

He caught your hand, rubbing his thumb over your palm. “Did you think of me while you were gone?” Ezra questioned, looking hungrily between your eyes and lips. 

“Yes.” You felt a shiver race down your spine as he slotted his fingers in between yours, sliding his fingers against yours before curling them around your hand tightly. “But my fingers are poor substitutes for your cock.”

Ezra growled as he crawled over you, roughly dragging your arm above your head and pinning your hand back against the mattress. “I could still smell you in my bed.” He told you, pressing his thigh between your legs.

Your free hand slid under his shirt, greedy fingers sliding over his warm skin, nails scraping down his back. “Can you smell me right now?” You asked, rolling your hips towards the knee he had pressed between your thighs. 

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily. “I could smell you yesterday morning,” He told you, releasing your hand and sliding his fingers down your forearm. “My sweet little lamb, coming to my door with thoughts of our last encounter burning at her core.”

“Ezra.” You moaned softly, curling your fingers into his hair. His mouth was a menace — his tongue flicked out over your pulse point, lips hot on your skin as he breathed out raggedly against your throat. 

His teeth scraped over your skin before he pulled back to meet your eyes. His warm brown eyes, were dark— pupils blown as he focused on you. “Tell me, little lamb… did you wish you had found more of the beast, than the man yesterday? Was it tempting fate that made you wet?” 

You inhaled sharply, sitting up to help as Ezra peeled your shirt off your body. His questions swirled in your mind and you wondered if he knew that those words alone had made that knot of arousal coil tighter within you. Because maybe they were true — before you had seen the beast for yourself. 

“Maybe,” You retorted, less certain of your voice than you realised. “We can talk about our twisted fantasies after you fuck me.” You tightened your grip on his hair and dragged him down for a kiss. 

Ezra growled against your lips. You both fumbled with each other’s pants, struggling to divest yourselves of everything that kept you from each other. 

You did have a twisted fantasy. You had lost count of how many times you’d revisited it in the time away from him. Running through the forest — hunted down by a fearsome beast that made your blood run hot in your veins. 

Ezra swore under his breath as he slid off your underwear, tossing them into the pile of discarded clothes alongside your bed. “I wish you knew how sweet you smell, little lamb.” His hand wandered down your stomach, slipping between your thighs to part your slick folds. 

Your head fell back against the mattress and you moaned out his name as he teased you. 

The beast always caught you. Claimed you. They were such vivid dreams — ones that you woke up from drenched in sweat and clenching around nothing but the memory of Ezra slamming into you. 

You scraped your nails down his back as you looked up at him, eyes half-lidded as settled between your thighs. 

“Can you take me, moonbeam?” He murmured, gliding the head of his cock over your sensitive cunt. 

You nodded and that was encouragement enough.

Ezra gripped at your hip hard enough to bruise as he buried the entire length of his cock into you with one swift thrust. 

“Don’t be gentle,” You urged him, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck as you wrapped a leg around his hips, trying to drive him on. “Come on, Ezra.”

“Shh.” He murmured, brushing his fingers over your cheek as he looked down at you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate — even if you should’ve. 

“I want you to come for me. Just like this.” Ezra dropped his voice low. “I want to feel you come on my cock. Can you do that?” He questioned, brushing his thumb over your clit. 

“Fuc— yes!” You nodded your head, curling your fingers around the back of his neck as you looked up at him.

“Is this what you thought about?” He questioned, his eyes staying locked with yours as he stroked his thumb over your clit, keeping his cock buried within you. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, rocking your hips towards him as you arched your back up off the bed. “Never felt this good before.”

Ezra flashed a wicked smirk, “Always gonna think of me.” He dipped down to kiss you, his tongue playing over your bottom lip, seeking entrance into your mouth. 

He swallowed up your moan as you felt your body start to shatter around him. Your inner walls pulsed around the thick length of his cock as he kept a steady rhythm with his thumb against your clit. 

“Oh stars.” You hissed out, grabbing at his shoulders for support as he started to move above you, his fingers bit into your hip roughly, holding you steady. 

Ezra’s eyes fell closed, your name on his lips like a silent prayer as he rolled his hips. He barely gave you any time to come down from your high, before fucking you into your mattress. 

It was like white-hot pleasure coursing through you and you let yourself get swept up in the power of it all. Last time hadn’t been a fluke. 

You traced your fingers over the scars that curved over the back of his neck, guiding him back down for another kiss. 

Ezra’s teeth dragged over your bottom lip as he broke away from the kiss. “You covered?”

“Stim.” You promised him, shifting your arm enough for him to catch sight of the slightly raised patch on your arm. “Don’t stop.”

And he didn’t. 

Ezra caught your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and pinning your hand back against the bed as he filled you — again and again. His pace was brutal and you had a distinct feeling that you’d be feeling this tomorrow and the day after. 

He pressed his face against the hollow of your throat, breath hot against your skin as he stiffened above you, his release spilling within you. 

How were you supposed to just leave Lykaois and forget this? Where else could you find a man who loved to read as much as you did, whose honey-sweet voice spun golden webs of magic for your ears, and fucked you like a—

Beast. 

You lazily dragged your fingers through his hair. In a world where nothing was certain, nothing was guaranteed sometimes it was worth it just to pursue the things that made you feel. No matter how dangerous they were. 

Ezra rolled off of you, wedging himself into the space between you and the wall at the back of the alcove. “Damn.” He chuckled, raking his hands over his face, before nearly folding them against his chest. 

You rolled onto your side to face him, reaching out to trail one finger down the back of his hand. “That good?” You teased lightly. 

He nodded his head, before tilting his face towards you. “This has been good for me.” Ezra told you. “I can just forget for a few minutes.” 

“It’s been good for me too.” You pressed a kiss to the curve of his shoulder, running your hand down his chest, over the soft skin of his stomach, before curling your hand around his waist as you settled into his side. “You’re not going to run me away, Ezra.”

“I don’t want to,” Ezra admitted, kissing the top of your head, exhaling heavily. “But if I’m not as in control of it.”

“When I go back to the Block, I’m going to do more research on Lykaois.” You explained to him, sliding your fingers over his side. “There has to be more that we don’t know.”

“I can…” Ezra dragged his fingers through his hair. “I can try to make contact with the others. Maybe they know more.”

“Have you ever interacted with them?”

“In the beginning.” He shrugged a shoulder, scratching at his jaw. “They’re feral even when they’re like this. A glimpse into my cruel future.” 

“Ezra—“

He shook his head, “I have had five years to accept that one day, I will no longer be me.” Ezra tilted his head to look at you, a sad smile on his lips. “If only you had turned up earlier.” 

You closed the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips to his. “I’m here now.”

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

I know the TSwift song ask said “a” pairing But! I have many I Must Know! Fitzsimmons! Cinderella and the Prince! Henry Tilney and Catherine! (And this is incredibly self-indulgent but if any come to mind for anyone in SfaS?)

I love all of these! this is a treasure trove of ships!!!

Fitzsimmons:

1. I'M ONLY ME WHEN I'M WITH YOU YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY HALF THE TIME THE OTHER HALF I'M ONLY TRYING TO LET YOU KNOW THAT WHAT I FEEL IS TRUE!!! Don't wanna fly! if you're still on the ground!!! I've said it before but I will say it always, this is Their song.

2. Invisible String! Because they're seperated CONSTANTLY to the point that it seems unecessary, but they always come back to each other, they always find a way. There was an invisible string tying them together!!! (This Love for similar reasons? they let it go free! it came back!)

3. Dancing With Our Hands Tied. hey remember when Fitz was like we're cursed? because I think about that Constantly. It ties into their difficulties, their seperations, and how they're still trying, it's gravity! keeping you with me! (also not to be sad about season 1 but "I'll hold you as the water rushes in")

Bonus: a little of untouchable? for some reason.

Cinderella and the Prince:

(Cinderella 2015 my beloved, it was WONDERFUL).

1. Everything Has Changed because all I know is you said hello! so dust off your highest hopes! everything has changed! They are actually peak Love at First Sight because it makes sense they fall in love so quickly, with barely one conversation, because they're both so good and understanding and See each other, and suddenly! everything is different!!!

2. Daylight. Cinderella is about the reward for endurance! been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night but now I see daylight!!! maybe you stormed out of every single room in this town (because she wasn't in them when he was searching for her). The whole film is about being defined by love, not hatred, so it is the Perfect Song.

3. Enchanted, obviously. The ball! the magic! the eyes meeting in a crowded room! lingering question kept me up! who do you love! I was ENCHANTED to meet you!!!! it's THEM IT'S THE CINDERELLA SONG IT'S SO THEM!!!!

Henry and Catherine!!!!:

1. I can't take credit for this, on spotify there's a playlist made which is Northanger Abbey but Taylor Swift, and I've forgotten every other song on there but the final one was Sweeter Than Fiction and I think about that every day. Because it's the perfect song. The rain won't last forever! He knew it all along!!! This life is sweeter than fiction!!!!

2. Haunted, partly because of the ghost imagery, obviously, but also when he leaves and she's convinced she's ruined everything, don't leave me like this! I thought I had you figured out! something's gone terribly wrong!!!

3. Starlight. I have no explanation for this, it's just the vibes. They're so right. also they are going to have 10 kids and teach them how to dream, they just will.

bonus: Long Story Short because of the story idea, and also just because that sums it up! it was a bad time! she survived! now she's all about him!!! Also Delicate and New Year's Day.

SEVEN FOR A SECRET TAYLOR SWIFT babes I could assign every single Taylor song to this book, I could go through and make a list I really could.

Isolde: Tied Together With a Smile really is Her song in every way. She and Sasha are obviously Sweeter than Fiction, but also there's a bit of OMWIMY in there, the need to lift up your best friend to be happy yourself! I think The Lucky One is also a bit her, you don't feel pretty, you just feel used, all the young things line up to take your place.

Evermore is also such an Isolde song.

A Perfectly Good Heart is about Sasha and Shiro I'm sorry it just is. A Place in this World is quite Sasha-y, and The Outside is quite Isolde-y right at the beginning.

Haunted is that terrible moment when Lysander leaves and Sasha is alone, for sure (ahhh that broken me it was so sad). Also Come Back...Be Here.

But then later Sasha and Lysander are King of my Heart! Is this the end of all the endings!!! my broken bones are mending!!!!!

I feel like none of them are specifically Enchanted, Enchanted is kind of the group as a whole? not romantically but the feeling of serendipitous stumbling across people you'll love forever! Also Long Live for the same reasons. And New Year's Day is for all of them as well.

Lysander and treacherous, not because this slope is treacherous but because he just thinks it is. So Treacherous from his perspective but not from literally anyone else's. Also the bridge! nothing safe is worth the drive and I will follow you home! he literally does that at the end in the train and then the car!!!! (it's actually Everything has Changed but he doesn't understand that). And then when he comes back it's How You Get The Girl (and eventually Paper Rings and Fearless).

Lysander is also Gold Rush in his refusal to as he sees it indulge in love.

Shiro and This Love for Isolde, he waits patiently! he lets it go free! and it comes back to him! your ghost! I fell to my knees! you come back to what you need!!!! and then later they become You Are In Love (for once you let go of your fears and your ghosts!!!) Also DWOHT, because my love had been frozen deep blue but you painted it golden! and the healing and the love against all odds!!!! (also also Daylight for Isolde).

Both couples are Cornelia Street in my mind.

There are probably more but this is super long already, so that's all I can think of!!! I love them and I love doing this!!!

send me a couple and I'll give you three Taylor songs about them.

[just-barrow]

It seems to have been a while since anyone made a Thommy fic rec list, so I thought I’d start with a seasonally appropriate one. Here be ghosts, vampires, zombies, and other supernatural shenanigans! 

Massive thanks to everyone who helped out with this. I got so many suggestions that I didn’t have the time to read all of them myself, but I have faith in this fandom’s good taste ;) please feel free to reblog or comment with your own recommendations!

Now without further ado, have some spooky Thommy times!

Completed:

Hauntsverse - Haunts (Explicit, 50k) // The Enchanted Life of Thomas Barrow (Explicit, 77k) // Domestic Life (Explicit, 8k) by Are:

Strange apparitions descend upon Downton Abbey, rearranging furniture and lives- and, in the midst of it all, Thomas Barrow and Jimmy Kent begin to unravel their own mysteries.

Voodoo by Are:

voo·doo (vd) n. pl. voo·doos 2. A charm, fetish, spell, or curse holding magic power for adherents of voodoo. 4. Deceptive or delusive nonsense. tr.v. voo·dooed, voo·doo·ing, voo·doos To place under the influence of a spell or curse; bewitch. (General, 2k)

AFIRE by Are:

Jimmy has a very strange ability. Thomas discovers it. Together, they try to work it out. (Mature, 17k)

The Gentleman’s Survival Guide For The Zombie Apocalypse by crocodileinterior:

Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent- modern / zombie apocalypse AU. There is candlelit dinners and long walks through the woods and the slaughter of walking corpses that are trying to eat their brains. All very romantic, I’m sure you’ll agree. (Mature, 15k)

Things That Go Bump In The Night by CosmicZombie:

In which Jimmy is stubborn, Thomas is sexually frustrated, and Alfred takes on the (unintentional) role of cupid. (Mature, 5k)

The Monster by flippyspoon:

O'Brien is Igor. Dreams are weird. (Mature, 2k)

In His Shoes by afewreelthoughts:

“What, Jimmy? You’d never believe in magic?” (Mature, 3k)

The Knight of Cups by afewreelthoughts:

As Jimmy Kent awaits devastating news following his tryst with Lady Anstruster, he begs Thomas to visit a fortune-teller. (General, 1k)

A Ghost Story by thegirlwiththemouseyhair:

Thomas Barrow fell in love with Edward Courtenay while serving as a medic at the Downton Cottage Hospital during the Great War. Years later, Lieutenant Courtenay falls in love with Thomas when Thomas is back in that same hospital. But Lieutenant Courtenay killed himself in 1917, which complicates matters, as does the rival he finds in Jimmy Kent… (Teen And Up, 37k)

Whenever I feel afraid/ I hold onto my erection/ And whistle a happy tune/ And that is my protection/ Against being afraid by Pastache:

Thomas and Jimmy watch a ‘spook tale’. (Explicit, 4k)

Trick or Treat by Jembu23:

Thomas loved Halloween; the decorations, the costumes, the changing fall colors. It had been a while since he had dressed up and actually gone trick or treating, let alone going to any sort of halloween party. He never really did a costume anymore, but Thomas still loved Halloween. This Halloween, he meets a Trick or Treater that gives him one hell of a treat. (Mature, 2k)

In Another Man’s Skin by dragons_in_the_north: 

Well. There were no marks on Jimmy’s throat, at least. But more worryingly, it wasn’t his throat, not really. The reflection staring back at him was a tall, broad-shouldered man, his pale skin practically glowing in the pre-dawn gloom. Sharp cheekbones thrown into shadow, hair falling fetchingly across his eyes, lips red even in the half-light, dark bristles peeking out from the collar of his undershirt—

He wrenched his gaze away from the glass, fixing his eyes on a blank patch of wall as he took several long, deep breaths.

This was certainly a… complication. (Mature, 11k)

i can’t be gay till he comes back by tommythetommo:

Over a few spooky shenanigans, Jimmy’s attraction to a certain under-butler grows (and Thomas’ persists). (Not Rated, 10k)

Forever Tuesday Morning by irrationalgame:

Without you my life’s gonna be Forever Tuesday morning - The Mockers

A period time-loop set somewhere after Season 3. (Teen and Up, 34k)

Bad Dreams? by irrationalgame:

Jimmy encounters something in the attic, Thomas tells ghost stories, and other spooky goings on at Downton! (Teen And Up, 3k)

Supernatural Comfort by irrationalgame:

Thomas makes the ultimate sacrifice. (General, 900)

Supernatural Problems by irrationalgame:

Jimmy makes a wish. Things get weird. (General, 3k)

Too Spooky! by irrationalgame:

Thomas and Jimmy to to a Halloween funfair. Jimmy gets a fright. Thomas gets a surprise. (Teen and Up, 2k)

A Way Through by dancing_satyr:

Downton hosts a séance and skeptical Thomas Barrow gets far more than he bargained for. (Teen And Up, 10k)

Siren by ThisThatAndTheOther:

Jimmy’s strange behaviour after an accident proves to be dangerous for Thomas. (Not Rated, 8k)

The End of All Our Exploring Will Be Not To Arrive Where We Started by ThisThatAndTheOther:

Modern era AU. Jimmy and the gang think it’s a good idea to perform black magic without having any idea what they’re doing. Halfway to crack. (General, 6k)

The Haunting of Thomas Barrow by Riotstar:

The memory faded, flames licking at the edges of the picture, of Thomas sat alone in the hall while his parents fought over him again. He sat ringed in flame until he was a boy no more, but instead a grown man, now staring up at the coldly beautiful face of the Turkish gentleman. He was smiling, holding out a hand to Thomas, who reached for it, but as soon as the fingers of his undamaged palm brushed Pamuk's, the hand was snatched away. (Mature, 4k)

Things that go Bump in the Night by Riotstar

His blissful solitude was interrupted by a loud thud, followed by the sound of something breaking, and an even louder "fuck!". Thomas sighed and stubbed out his cigarette. (Teen and Up, 1k)

Uncompleted:

Charme de Lune by camaelczarka:

In the summer of 1922, rumors spread of wolves near Downton. (Mature, 19k)

Downton of the Dead by irrationalgame:

When Jimmy decides to creep downstairs for a midnight snack, he nearly ends up as one himself. So begins a series of strange events at Downton Abbey! (Mature, 18k)

Creatures of London by gwdihw:

Supernatural / Horror AU. Jimmy is still working for Lady Anstruther when a chance meeting with a mysterious man called Thomas causes him to be hunted by an unknown monster. (Mature, 7k)

In The Fade by LinkWorshiper:

While Thomas is in New York with Lord Grantham, strange dreams start to plague Jimmy on a regular basis, keeping him unable to sort which ghosts are real or imagined. Soon, it becomes evident that Thomas himself might be the only one who knows anything about the things Jimmy never dared to believe. (Mature, 92k)

A Creature at Downton by i-live-for-television:

Jimmy has finally forgiven Thomas and is ready to start a new friendship with him. But when a new and possibly dangerous Valet begins working at Downton, Jimmy realizes that he cares a lot more for Thomas than he originally thought. (Mature, 12k)

[animemangasoul]

You Have My Shoulder to Lean On

Summery: The Blietzkrieg Boys are no longer safe in Russia and with Bryan still recovering from his kidnapping, it’s up to Kai to ensure that his friends? don’t get themselves killed in their crusade to end Balkov Abbey

Chapter: 1/5

He hadn’t known. He should have known.  

Gripping the door-frame tight enough to turn knuckles white a shadow falls over Kai’s face.  

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

Two weeks. It had been two weeks until the official start of the Beyblade world tournament. The excitement could practically be tasted in the air and Kai was at his wits end trying to enforce some form of control over his ragtag team.  

They’d been at the last stretch of their training; the BBA headquarters cooling system the only thing keeping the unbearable heat at bay, when the doors slammed open and a tiny figure stepped through.

Kai immediately recognized his former teammate. It had been a year since he last saw him, but Ian’s purple hair was as vivid as ever and his nose distinct on his currently scrunched up features.

“Where’s Mr. Dickinson?” He’d asked, eyes resting squarely over their shoulders. He wasn’t meeting anyone’s gaze; his frame strangely rigged and....... Kai should have known something was up. Should have recognized that pinched expression as worry, as barely disguised bravado.

He’d known Ian for so long. Had seen the kid cry and shake in horror and then seen him learn not to cry and shake in horror because the Abbey didn’t take kindly to weakness. He’d known Ian. No matter how flimsy his memories of him was. He’d known him.

He should have noticed.

Should have figured it out, but he hadn’t. And-----

“Right here my boy,” Mr. Dickinson had chirped, walking towards the teen with his ever so present kind smile and the familiar curiosity dancing in his eyes.

At this point the whole team had stopped practicing. Their attention squarely focused on their former enemy. Interested as to why he’d made the trek all the way to Japan. Kai was just about to snap at them to get back to work, when Ian reached into his back pocket and fished out a crumbled letter.

The BBA invitational letter for the world cup to be exact. The bright colors and the official insignia couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else.

At Mr. Dickinson’s curious gaze, Ian stepped forward, shoved the paper in the old man’s chest and stated loudly. “I’m here to inform you that the Blitzkrieg Boys are officially withdrawing from this year's world tournament.” His voice was steady, eyes narrow and shoulders hunched. He looked determined.

Kai should have known he looked scared too.

The kid hadn’t even waited for a reply, turning heel and briskly walking away; Mr. Dickinson left to flounder behind him.

“Are you sure my boy?” The old man called after him. “Where is Tala? Perhaps we ought to talk about this in my office?”

Ian doesn’t dignify the question with an answer.  

Kai would be lying if he’d said the withdrawal didn’t take him of guard. Face blank but eyes widening just a fraction, he stood there and stared after the kid’s retreating back.

They were withdrawing? Tala was withdrawing?  

Tala hadn’t told him.

They may not talk anymore; after he chose to stay with the Bladebreakers, but he at least assumed Tala would call him about something like this. If only to inform him albeit snidely that any victory Kai achieved in this tournament was directly due to them not participating.  

But just as quickly as that thought comes, he shoves it away and slams the door shut behind it. What Tala did, what any of them did was none of his business anymore. Their actions weren’t his concern and withdrawing from a Beyblade tournament was hardly anything to write home about.

He should have known better.

But he hadn’t.

So when Tyson launches himself forward and grabs Ian by the arm, Kai walks back to the dish and gets himself ready to practice; barking at the others to stop playing around and get serious.

He ignores whatever explanation Ian choses to dignify Tyson with. Ignores the almost too quick to notice look Ian sends his way, ignores Mr. Dickinson’s futile attempt to make the kid stay, ignores how very stiff Ian is..... how very small.

He ignores everything, because..... he was here now wasn’t he? With the Bladebreakers. The Blitzkrieg Boys shouldn’t be his concern.  

So what if they decided last minute that the world cup wasn’t worth their time.

So what if they didn’t deem it necessary to tell him.

It's been months. He hadn’t seen or spoken to them in months.

They didn’t owe each other anything.

So he ignores all the signs blaring at the back of his mind and grits his teeth.

3, 2, 1

“Let it rip!”

-----------

He should have known better. Nothing was ever that simple with them. Nothing was ever easy. If the Blitzkrieg Boys withdrew from the tournament it had to have been for a very important reason and----

There he is. The very important reason.

Kai doesn’t step into the room. Instead choosing to linger just on the outside, unable to bring himself to do what he’d come here to do. Not yet. He... not yet.  

Righteous anger had ruled him all the way to the tiny apartment in Moscow. He was frustrated, annoyed, angry.  

Bryan had been missing.

More specifically, Bryan had been kidnapped.  

According to Spencer, kids started going missing in a very similar patterns to how the Abbey used to operate, and it was Tala’s not so brilliant idea to put a stop to it.  The whole scheme had had Abbey scientists written all over it, and Tala hadn’t liked that one bit. The Blitzkrieg Boys had been dismantling what’s left of the Abbey this entire time apparently, and it makes something deep within Kai burn with.... indignation, with disappointment. Because he hadn’t known.

To have been left out of the foolish decision all together. To be blissfully unaware as his former teammates risked their lives to make right what was done wrong.

He’d been in Japan. Leading a business enterprise and captaining his team, but he’d thought..... he’d only been a phone call away!

If Tala had swallowed his pride and called, he could have talked him out of it. It was just like the redhead to try and redeem himself by throwing himself headfirst into trouble. And of course the rest of the brigade would follow suit without an ounce of self-preservation between them.  

Kai could have talked them out of it. Could have provided assistance. Could have done something, but Tala hadn’t asked and..... didn’t that speak volume of where they currently stood.

They didn’t trust him. They had no reason to. But----

He would have been fine with that. He didn’t much see himself wanting to rebuild burnt bridges either. But...... when things went too far. When they got in over their heads. When Bryan went missing..... why hadn’t they called him?

Did Tala really think he was so terrible that he wouldn’t even want to..... after everything. After all the chances the redhead had thrown his way..... Was he unwilling to trust him in the one moment it mattered most?

‘I could have done something,’ he thinks, glaring at the very still figure of Bryan Kuznetsov. ‘They might have found you sooner if---’

“What are you doing here?” The words are soft, but the coldness laced within them is piercing. Tala doesn’t turn around to look at him, instead remaining seated by the bed, fingers idly playing with Bryan’s Beyblade; skimming over the surface before turning it around and examining the metal.  

“Spencer called me.” Whatever anger he’s feeling, it doesn’t show. His face is as blank as ever and his emotions...... Kai had long since learned there was no place for them in situations like these. He needed a win here.

Whatever he may think of their foolishness, saying them out loud now would put an unnecessary halt to his current plans. He couldn’t afford that. Not when----

Bryan is so very still.  

His face is even paler than usual. His often-messy lilac hair cropped short and.... the bandages around his left eye..... Bryan was missing his left eye.

The rest of his body was scarred and bloody and his breathing hitched every time he took in a lungful of air. Lips busted, face marred blue and green. Sunken cheeks and shaking limbs and.... and..... he looked so vulnerable even as a breathing mask covered half his face.  

The Bryan Kuznetsov.

Bryan who cackled at the face of danger. Bryan who took beatings with a haunting grin and bloodthirsty glee. Bryan who knew death and murder and violence, but also friendship and loyalty and trust. Bryan who never came out of the other side of a fight not being victorious.

Bryan Kuznetsov.

Kai feels sick.

Because Bryan is so very still.

The Abbey had been a nightmare, he knew that. But from whatever fragmented memories of his time there he’d managed to put together, it never amounted to this. If Bryan had ever been this hurt before, Kai couldn’t remember.  

Maybe that was a blessing, maybe it was a curse.

“-ai! Kai!”

His eyes snap back to meet piercing blue. Had Tala been speaking to him this entire time? By the look of the furrowed brows and pursed lips, apparently so.

“Yes?” he says, not missing a beat; ignoring that anything else might have been said in the span of time he’d been spiraling into the depths of the abyss.  

If Tala had said something of importance, he could repeat himself. Kai wasn’t going to ask.

“I said what do you want.” Tala hisses. He tries to sound calm but his annoyance bleeds through and Kai quirks an eyebrow at that. Somethings never change.

“I have a proposal for you.” His eyes have already drifted back to the figure on the bed, no looking all that interested in meeting Tala’s gaze anymore. “Spencer told me that Bryan’s kidnappers, at least some of them; those you didn’t manage to brutally murder remains unspoken, are still out there. Former Abbey scientists, right?”

“Spencer has told you a lot of things it seems.”

“I guess someone has to,” he fires back, and if the slightest edge of bitterness coats his words, Tala doesn’t mention it.  

A blanket of silence falls over them then. It’s almost comfortable, and Kai wouldn’t have minded leaving things there if he could.  

But they both snap to attention when Bryan suddenly lets out a tiny whimper and shifts in his sleep, eyes clenched shuts and teeth’s gritting in obvious pain. Tala’s arm shoots up to stop him when Bryan nearly dislodges the morphine drip and he keeps the hand there; splayed across the other’s chest until Bryan eventually calms back down.  

“Tala,” Kai says, keeping his voice low. “You can’t stay here.” His eyes are firmly focused on Bryan. Unable to tear his gaze away from the struggling rise and fall of the other’s chest. “You know that.”

Tala doesn’t answer him. Instead turning Falborg back to her master, gently folding the bandaged fingers around the blade.  

“Tala.”

“I know Kai.” His former captain mutters. “We’re setting up a new safe house. We’ll be out of here in two days' time.”

Why was Tala being so fucking difficult.

“You can’t stay here in Moscow.”

Did he have to spell it out for him.

“I know.”

“Tala you---”

“Kai. No.”

Apparently not.

Tala’s back is rigged. His body is turned away from him, but Kai doesn’t have to see his face to know Tala’s eyes are narrowed and his lips pulled into a ferocious snare.  

“With Bryan’s condition,” Kai starts up again; stubborn as ever. “And with--”

“We don’t need you,” Tala growls. The words cold, deadly, calculated. Kai doesn’t react. Only digs his fingernails into the door-frame till they throb with pain and takes a deep breath.

We don’t need you.

Tala always knew just what to say to make it hurt. He knew him too well. Just as Kai knew exactly what to do to make Tala comply. Years of shared pain had guaranteed that.

We don’t need you.

‘Well if you didn’t need me, why the hell is Bryan half dead,’ he wants to hiss back. ‘Why are you hiding injuries, and why is Spencer reaching out to me!’

If you didn’t need me, why are you hurt?

He doesn’t say any of that. Instead biting his tongue till he tastes the metallic tang and keeps all those words to himself. Getting into a fight with Tala is exactly that the other wants. He’s looking for a reason, any reason to clam back up and kick him out.

And Bryan couldn’t afford that. None of them could.  

So his tongue aches and his fingers throb, but he manages to somehow be the better man and keep his mouth shut.  

Kai silently wishes Spencer was here. Silently wishes that he’d thought this thing through before he; upon hearing the news had taken the first flight to Moscow in pure rage and marched his way into the apartment building intending to drag them back with him by the ear. This wasn’t like him. He planned ahead. He thought things through. Maybe not to the extent of Tala but this, this was a rookie mistake.

All the plan he had left was a flimsy one he managed to cobble together at the front door.

Pathetic.

If Spencer was here.... the older Russian would at least be willing to listen to what he had to say before making a decision.

Still, Tala also had a chink in the armor he wore so fiercely, and Kai wasn’t above exploiting that.

“You might not need me,” he says, eyes resting on the rising and falling of Bryan’s chest. “But Bryan does. And right now he’s vulnerable here. No matter how well you think you can protect him, he is a liability and whomever took him are still after him. He’ll be safer in Japan. At least until he recovers.”

Tala tenses. Shoulders coming up to his ears and frustration coming off of him in waves.  

He clearly doesn’t want to listen to him. Doesn’t want his so called ‘charity,’ but Tala is also Tala and the redhead had very rarely put his own wants ahead of his team’s needs.

It’s who he is.

Kai may not remember much of the Abbey on his best days, but he remembers that.  

There is nothing his former captain wouldn’t do for his team. No amount of violence and sacrifice he wouldn’t commit to keep them safe.  

A natural born leader Boris had called him as he twisted his arm. Tala unwilling to allow himself to scream as his eyes firmly rested on the dead guard who he’d killed for laying a hand on of the younger boys.

Tala killed so Ian didn’t have to. He took the lashes so Kai wouldn’t get punished in his feverish state. Tala was a fighter, willing to charge ahead. Willing to do the right thing even when the Abbey had tried it’s very best to beat it out of him. Boris used the team against Tala because the team was Tala’s one weakness.  

So Kai knew he would do the right thing now.

Even if Kai’s betrayal still stung.  

Even if he didn’t trust him anymore.

This was no longer about beyblading. This wasn’t a game.  

The Abbey may have made a killer out of them all; some more than others, but it had also made them a team. So Tala, no matter how much he hated him now, would do what was right.

For Bryan.

For the team.

So when the redhead sighs in obvious defeat, Kai feels a tiny flicker of satisfaction lick at his heart. He still knew him. Still knew him because somethings never changed.

“Bryan can’t fly.”

It’s framed as a question but Kai answers it nonetheless.  

“You’re going to be picked up by a private jet. All the necessary medical equipment will be in there.”

“When?”

“The day after tomorrow at the latest. We can’t linger.”

Tala nods. It’s a jerky motion. Barely there. The redhead didn’t want to agree with him. “I will talk to them.”

Kai nods back, even if the other can’t see it. “See that you do,” he mutters and then turns around and walks away. Eyes firmly planted on the ground. The longer he looks at Bryan the more his gaze would draw to his face and he didn’t want to..... the busted lip, the fresh scar running down his nose and—the eye, he--

Swallowing thickly, he pauses, only a couple of steps away from the tiny bedroom. “How long?” he asks; the question loud enough that it pierces through the quiet comfort of the apartment.

For a second, there is nothing. And as the time ticks by, Kai wonders if Tala would even answer. But then---

“Six day, fourteen hours.” The words are emotionless, almost too quiet to hear and empty. Kai clenches his fists.  

“Has he woken up yet?”

He’s still facing away from the room, still far enough down the hall to have to raise his voice, but Kai doesn’t want to go back. Doesn’t want to see Bryan. Whatever composure he has remaining may very well crumble if he does.

“No, not yet.”

Kai doesn’t linger after that. No word of farewell spoken as he exits the living room and walks out the front door.  

He briefly wonders where Ian is, but quickly dismisses it. If the kid had gone missing Tala wouldn’t be wallowing in self-pity by Bryan’s bedside. No, he was fine. Probably with Spencer or something.

They were all fine. And they would all be safe as soon as they left Russia. Kai could make sure of that.

Stepping into the black car by the front gate, he indicates for the driver to head to his grandfather’s former estate.  

There were few things he would have to take care of there now that he was here, but as soon as the Blitzkrieg Boys were ready, they would leave.

Tala had put his trust in him once more, and Kai wouldn’t let him down. Not this time. Not when lives were at stake. Not their lives.

If they all owed each other something, he had yet to pay his dues after all.

To be continued......

@ssomestuff @luxahheart @bakutenmayhem @tshjortile @itsbeen20years @beytotheblade @allegrabites @lotus-raine

So, I’ve tagged all those people who might have seemed interested in reading this fic. But if you don’t want to be tagged please let me know and I’ll untag and for those who want to be tagged let me know that too. Hope you like it guys! Thanks for all the support and encouragement!!

[misunderstoodnotevil]

I’ve often wondered if this place is haunted. It ought to be.

Series 1, episode 5

Previous episodes 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 

I will start by saying this may be my favourite episode so far. The manipulation, oh boy, it has reached new levels. Ms. O'Brien's middle name has to be that; manipulation. She may be the best thing in the episode.

The subplot of the flower show brings us into the mindset of the bootlicker and while Violet is not exactly tired of having such people around her, she's shown to be magnanimous and surrender her own prize to Mr. Molesley. But whose bloom was actually the best? We'll never know...

Mrs. Patmore has cataracts, there are some funny scenes about it and then we see Carson being a good hearted boss to her. 

Right now, I wonder if something had happened between Mr. Patrick and Ms. O'Brien. God forbid someone speaks for the Titanic.

Sybil continues her quest to help Gwen find a job. They have a little adventure that could have been avoided had she trusted the stalk... sorry, I meant Branson. (The budget was low and Leech was not in the episode though). The job interview was unsuccessful, but we saw Sybil being good hearted and a rebel all on her own. Go girl

Daisy is still itchy aka traumatised after watching the transfer of Pamuk's dead body and everyone (and their dog) has noticed. Mary's in trouble. 

Robert gets a letter from his sister. Mary's in double trouble. 

Of course, like other people in this house, she can't keep her mouth shut for appearances sake. The letter, as we learn later on, is bad news. Her reputation is in tatters. Hmmm I wonder who's responsible for that. Wait, Thomas sent a letter to a friend of his, "Lady Mary was no better than she ought to be." The friend is a valet of a gossiper who clearly spread the news around London.

Now, the interesting part is "you won't tell, will you? I'm in enough trouble as it" and once again we see he acts first and thinks later. It doesn't really cross his mind the consequences of his actions.

As opposed to Ms. O'Brien, whose thoughts are precise and she’s thinking well ahead of the results if the acts succeed. 

Thomas steals the wine. If anyone wondered in the last episode who the thief was, we found him here. Bates catches him in the act. Of course it was Bates!

So, when he tells Sarah Bates saw him nicking a bottle of whine, she starts having thoughts about it and makes him think he has to do something about it. She manipulates his fear expertly.

Thomas on the other hand is certain Bates will tell Carson when "he's feeling spiteful". Why does Thomas think so? Is it projection? Is it the way he's been treated all his life? The certain is that this is what he believes. Bates will tell the truth to Carson, eventually. In the meantime, in the next episode, Bates says clearly to Anna that he doesn't plan to say anything to Carson because he doesn't want anyone to lose his job. Not even Thomas.

Thomas acts under false pretenses.

And I think it's safe to assume (as safe as is to assume) that Ms. O'Brien is behind his certainty. 

Back to Mary,

Her parents claim she has to get married. Since Matthew is out of the question, there's a new gentleman, Strallan, in the picture. Robert doesn't like him. He's the same age as him and dull.

Matthew doesn't like Edith the way Edith would like him to like her (Hint; he likes Mary). He makes it absolutely clear to his mother. He says as such to Mary as well. It makes me question Matthew pov as well. Why does he do it? Matthew is not stupid. He has seen how the sister behave towards the other. His affections for Mary though clouds his judgement. Of course, Mary turns around and says so to Edith.

And Mary uses it against Edith.*

And O'Brien uses it against everyone.

Because the master mind is Ms. O'Brien.

She starts with Daisy, and what she knows about Mary and Pamuk.

She continues with Cora in a superb scene. Cora says her daughters are all grown up and they need their own establishments.

"No one ever warns you about bringing up daughters. You think it’s going to be like Little Women. Instead, they’re at each other’s throats from dawn till dusk."

Now, besides the fact this is something Sarah is going to use, there is a certain insensitivity from Cora's side to say that to her maid when said maid has no children. We don't know if it was a decision willingly made, or if O'Brien just didn't have the chance to get married and have children of her own. Or even if she wanted to have kids.

Which brings Sarah to Edith, manipulating her insecurities that have caused her to dislike her older sister, using Daisy's story.

And as it happens, Mary shows Edith she can have any man she wants, whenever she wants him, may that be Matthew or Strallan (whom Edith likes after realizing Matthew doesn’t want her. Like Edith’s heart has clearly many leaves ready to be shared), followed by listening to her mother and Mary talking about her. 

 You mustn’t be unkind to Edith. She has fewer advantages than you.

 Fewer? She has none at all.

(Between you & me, Mary had it coming!)

So Edith sends the letter to his Excellency the Turkish (Ottoman) Ambassador in London.

Thomas and O'Brien betrayed themselves with their behaviour to Anna and Bates who in turn, turn the tables on them.

 The bastard’s hidden it in my room or yours.

 Why did I ever listen to you in the first place?

Bates hasn't hidden it in their rooms, but he’s made them believe it. It's interesting again, how O'Brien blames the fiasco on Thomas. 

*  Everyone is sorry for Edith. Bates and Anna are sorry for her. Anna thinks she was in love in Patrick who was engaged with a Mary who didn't really want him, but she would have married him because he was the heir.

We can compare the stealing of food by Carson in the first episodes to give to his old friend who was blackmailing him and Thomas stealing the wine.

Carson is remorseful, he doesn't do it because he wants to, narratively-wise he also gets a background that justifies his actions. The audience gets to see it's an act he despises and also gets to see why he does it. 

Thomas? The audience sees him stealing wine. Why? To what purpose? We have no idea. No explanation given. None whatsoever. And it's because it's not thought. I don't know, they could have been seen drinking it with O'Brien in the roof, for all I care. Give the audience a reason as to why he steals the wine. Have Sarah asking him why she did he steal it? 

The problem is there is no actual reason for Thomas to steal wine. And it’s never used again other than seeing how he doesn’t deserve to work in the Abbey. 

I hate the wine stealing for this reason.

Interesting quotes from the episode:

Thomas: I’ve often wondered if this place is haunted. It ought to be.

Sarah:  Of the spirits of maids and footmen who died in slavery?

Bates: I always feel a bit sorry for Lady Edith.

 Anna: Me, too. Although I don’t know why, when you think what she’s got and what we haven’t.

Bates: Perhaps Mr Patrick did love her [Edith] back, he just couldn’t say it.

Sometimes we’re not at liberty to speak. Sometimes it wouldn’t be right.

Mary: Kemal? My lover. Kemal Pamuk.

Robert: She thinks, if you put a toy down, it will still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.

[ohwaitimthewriter]

Things you can’t explain

Pairing : Jace Wayland x human!reader

Warning : prepare yourself for the huge amount of fuckin’ fluff!

Recap : it’s about falling in love with someone you can’t see.

Words : 1320

A/n : well, if you like it enough, I’ve some idea to make other parts for this... Sorry for my English, it’s not my native language! Enjoy your reading!

Masterlist.

There are things in life that can't be explained. And the crazy attraction you had to go to the same place, to the same time, the same day, was part of it. Actually, the question never came from you but always from your family, your friends, or anyone else who crossed your path in your way to this old abandoned abbey. 

You had probably heard everything about this place: "Don't go there, it's too gloomy", "you should stop going there, it's an ill-famed place", "there's no point in you being there" or "you're insane, this place is haunted!". All this with the famous "why?", and every time, you answered the same thing: "I feel good there, I feel like... I’m myself again". People looked at you with eyes as round as marbles before letting you continue your journey. It was quite funny to see but you could understand them, the abbey, dark, damaged by time, and nature, which had taken over its rights over the human construction, stood in contrast to what you were. It didn't really look like you. It was sad, you were happy. It had lost her colors and you were glowing. It seemed cold and distant when all you wanted was to give and welcome new people in your life. But despite these obvious differences, you felt good, really good. 

That's why, every Friday, at 4:00 p. m., you would go to the abbey armed with a book. A storybook. And every Friday, you would sit on the grey stone steps in front of the entrance to read a new tale. 

That afternoon, it was very cold, even the gloves you had put on couldn't keep your hands warm. You sat on the steps, bending your knees towards yourself to keep a little warmth. You went through your bag, took out the short story collection and put it on your lap. You were typing the book cover, drawing the author's letters with your fingers. A little smile appeared on your lips and as you were about to open the book, a gust of wind made it slip off your knees.

"Really?" You mumbled and you could have sworn you heard a chuckle, as if the wind was gently laughing at you. 

What you didn't know was that this laughter didn't come from a hearing interpretation. On the other side, in the shadow of everyday life, there was someone who accompanied you every Friday in your story readings: Jace Wayland. 

You didn't see him, in your world, he didn't even exist and yet, and yet it was him, from the beginning, he was the one who kept bringing you back. It was him who made you feel so good in this seemingly dreary place. You didn't know it, but your instinct and the deepest part of your heart knew. 

You bent over to pick up the book and Jace took the opportunity to sit beside you. You sighed as you looked at the dirt on the cover and gently pulled it out.

"Sorry. "Jace sighed even though he knew you couldn't hear him. 

In fact, he had tried to touch the book, which for you was just a gust of wind.

"What are you reading to me today? "He asked while you were opening the book on the right page. 

"The enamoured wolf and the moon". You read the title aloud. 

You always felt like you were reading for someone and although you often preferred silent readings, being here pushed you to whisper the carefully written lines. It was always in these moments that your heart filled with sweetness and comforting warmth. You liked to link this state of relaxation and comfort to the idea that your sister, the true author of the short story collection, was accompanying you to the top of the hereafter, but deep down, you felt that it was something else; that it was a much deeper connection. 

Jace leaned on his elbows, ready to listen to you as he did every afternoon. To be honest, he hung on your every words. He had wondered for a long time how it all began. How, one day, you made the decision to sit there. And how he came to find you in the greatest secret. And since he had never found a satisfactory answer, he had come to terms with the idea that it should just be that way. 

And for a long time it had not been a problem for him. You were human, he was a shadow hunter. Laws existed and even if breaking them from time to time didn't bother Jace, he had come to the conclusion that he didn't want to involve you in the dangerous world in which he lived. Which meant he could never show himself to you. For a long time he had stuck to it, but he had not taken into account a very important thing in his equation: he was falling more and more in love with you every day. 

You were reading slowly. To Jace, your voice was a melody of perfect harmony. He was looking at you without even realizing how sweet his gesture was. He watched your lips move to form every word. He was observing the linear movement of your eyes that followed each line. He noticed your fingers, hidden by your gloves, unconsciously playing with the corner of the page and he surprised himself wondering what it would feel like to feel your fingers touching him. 

He straightened up, leaning a little more towards you to follow the story with his eyes. He was barely touching you, but that was enough for your body to react to his presence. A pleasant shiver spread and you told yourself that finally, despite the cold, you were starting to warm up. 

The story was coming to an end, the advantage of this type of story was that it didn't last long, to Jace's great displeasure, as he found these ten minutes far too short. He would have liked to spend more time with you. He always wanted to spend more time with you, because you were the only one who made him feel the way he felt now. He always felt like you were filling a part of him that he missed. You were the missing piece of the puzzle. 

You closed the book and sighed for well-being. You put the book back in your bag and you thought it was time to leave. You only thought about it because you felt like you were stuck there, on the steps, sitting next to Jace without seeing him. You didn't really want to leave this place right away. First you turned to Jace who froze like a deer in the spotlight, afraid you would see him, but your eyes turned towards the abbey, looking at it with admiration. 

You were wondering why people were so afraid of it. On closer inspection, it wasn't that gloomy. 

"Pfft, people don't know what they're missing." You spoke aloud, which made Jace laugh.

« I wouldn’t make you say that twice."

And almost as spontaneously as he had answered you, he slipped a strand of your hair behind your ear with his fingertips. The contact was striking, so to speak. You felt it and your eyes were looking for Jace without really knowing what they were looking for. Jace stood there, without moving, holding his breath as you looked at him without even seeing him. 

You didn't really understand what you wanted to see, so you resigned yourself. You sighed, thinking it was stupid, and grabbed your bag to leave. Jace got up at the same time as you did, but as you walked away, he stood on the steps, his eyes staring at the hand that had touched you. 

Now he knew it was going to be much more complicated to stay away from you. 

[exalok]

whaddup my dudes!!!

i am tired and wired and this means brain no writey but brain VERY focused on absolutely all the fic i have going on at once that aren’t prompts (prompts will be incoming, no worries dissociation anon)

and THAT means y’all get to hear about my many. many. MANY projects, or at least the ones that make my heart go pitter patter when i think of them

a few examples: demon!corvo and priest!daud with extra worldbuilding ; the naptime cuddles AU ; corvo doesn’t come to dunwall so jess and daud end up arranged-married for profit (more info..... under the readmore..... i’m gonna get rambly)

also feel free to ask questions, i love questions and they get me thinking even more in depth about the world and specific instances of characters and that is the entire POINT

LIKE OKAY SO MY BRAIN PRETTY MUCH CONTINUOUSLY THROWS IDEAS AT THE WALL AND ABOUT 95% OF THEM STICK BECAUSE I’M A HOARDING RAT BASTARD i love my ideas they are my precioussss

i might have about. 25 fic more or less active at the moment? which sounds like a reasonable number but those are the ones i have an actual plot for as well as the will to get them out into the world

let’s put aside the ones i have actually posted on tumblr or ao3 (teen!daud, domestic zombie apocalypse, bondageverse, knife!corvo) in favor of those you have either no or little idea exist. begin:

I MEAN OBVIOUSLY I MADE FANFIC OF MY OWN FANFIC or as i call it parallel/companion fic, because at some point in the past a prompter inspired me and i was deep in the prince!daud fic at the time and i thought what if high chaos. what if void monster corvo? what if horrifying yet human creature of the depths!!! what if EVERYTHING was TERRIBLE and daud killed corvo as a last ditch and vain attempt to get his people out of burrows’ clutches, and it all went to shit from there??? also they’re bound by marriage contract and the vagaries of magical intention and daud becomes corvo’s life battery, in essence, which you can imagine leads to a very unhealthy relationship i think it’s not spoilering much to tell you it does NOT end well, and i’ll be writing it as a sort of foil to low chaos prince!daud

i have quite a few high chaos fics actually. high chaos is depressing to play but the story outcomes are DELICIOUS and the degrading world and character motivations are a lot of fun to play around in

weirdly enough another one of these high chaos fics is the naptime cuddles AU!!! i won’t lie it’s the one i am currently on and i want to talk about it to everyone so bad constantly. in short, corvo doesn’t kill daud and the whalers because he’s trying to get out and currently too fucked up to fight, and when he doesn’t manage to save emily despite his best efforts he comes back to daud for some kind of symbolic execution. meanwhile thomas convinced daud to take a goddamn nap with him there because daud, despite his paranoia, does sleep better with people around, and this is entirely an excuse for semi-platonic daudthomascorvo cuddles in bed followed by whaler puppypiles when the gang catches on that this is a thing they can do now I LOVE PUPPYPILE WHALERS I LOVE NAPS I LOVE REDEMPTION THROUGH THE POWER OF RESTORATIVE SLEEP please i’m so tired and i can’t actually fall asleep next to people let me live my dream vicariously additionally: this will be my contribution to the absolutely wonderful whaler vineyard of old fanon

there is also what i feel should be a classic and ISN’T though a couple of fics were written around the concept and one in particular is /chef kiss, and the concept is: high chaos corvo meets low chaos corvo!!!!! i made it a threesome with daud because no one can stop me and i fucking LOVE the idea of daud ending up capable of telling them apart through tiny details even when high chaos corvo, bastard that he is, tries to impersonate low chaos corvo, who is a bastard in much more subtle ways and would probably be better at impersonating hc!c than the other way around but finds it distasteful; also i added intense body horror because that’s how i roll and there are eventual magical CONSEQUENCES to hc!c being in the low chaos world and regularly in contact with what is essentially his narrative double when he doesn’t belong there, probably ends in a tragically bittersweet way, i’m not completely clear on it yet though i do have ideas

and oh man......... the time travel corvo fic.... the one where high chaos corvo ends up in his own seven-year-old body........... fuck i hashed out so much of the general worldbuilding for that one and ended up going way too far and imagining a sequel like i always do where corvo learns how to walk universes and gathers people he cares about from places where he can actually save them from their eventual tragic futures and the dissolution of their timelines once the outsider is ousted from the void and a new void avatar is made and SHENANIGANS YO!!! SHENANIGANS AND CAMPING!!!! SELF-CROSSOVERS!!!!!!! I COULD HAVE HIM MEET HIMSELF IF HE HADN’T TRAVELED BACK I’M CRYING I HAVE SO MANY EMOTIONS

the one where corvo is a fae child is probably a lil bit high chaos though it isn’t determined yet, and he has all of these instincts with regards to possessing and exchange and deals, and assumptions as to how other people must work approximately the same, and he is so wrong. then there’s the really creepy bad touch possible sequel that i won’t get into unless someone specifically asks because it’s a lil bit much really

oh MAN oh SHIT speaking of bad touch there’s another dead dove do not eat one where i grabbed an entire handful of granny rags’ apparent fucking around with magical arrays and rune creation and general spellery and threw it at corvo post-interregnum and he sees “ghosts” and doesn’t understand what the FUCK is going on and things go really badly for him, and one ghost, soon the only ghost, is daud, and corvo doesn’t know if he’s real, if he’s seeing things, if he’s NOT seeing things but daud is some kind of void demon, if he is and also having psychotic breaks he doesn’t remember because he ends up with some hellish bruises, but the real daud is actually still out there just hiding out and corvo will eventually meet up with him and real daud will meet fake daud and even more shit will happen

god, the demon!corvo AU gets pretty fucked up as well if i remember right; corvo is both some dude with a wife and kid and the demon that inhabits him, jess is his wife and the demon that inhabits her (to be clear, separate characters but both based on either jess or corvo oh my GOD what if i switched the demons that would be amazing but no, calm down, maybe for a short what-if scenario that will inevitably turn into its own thing), daud is the overseer with the really good exorcism record trying to get the demons to fuck off except he thinks there’s only one of them and the other takes him by surprise; cue daud being hunted by that demon, furious that daud shattered his favorite pupil, and some revelations about what exactly lives inside the abbey and also under it

on a somewhat lighter note, the one where corvo never comes to dunwall (i think his mom gets sick and he doesn’t win the blade verbena at sixteen?) is also where jess keeps losing her royal protectors to assassination attempts because the first one was decent and died protecting her and the second one was decent and had an accident and people start believing there’s a curse on the position or a curse on her, and she’s like okay so how do i make sure i don’t die now that no one is willing to become my protector since it’s pretty much a death sentence, and she arranges a meeting with the best assassin in the city and suggests an alliance -- protection and some commission overview, all secret, versus funding and housing -- in the form of a marriage and daud ends up agreeing; then later duke abele visits and corvo is among his personal guard and he gets to meet the empress, and the assassin, and there are ot3 shenanigans

oh my GOD also the kids in karnaca AU. obviously. fuck you may have seen the (dis)armingly charmed notefic but this would be them meeting as actual kids, in karnaca, just tiny babies, daud recently kidnapped and corvo doing his best to make this cool older kid into his friend and also maybe hiding him from the people who want to train him to do Illegal Things, and there are dumb childish arguments and daud goes on the run to avoid capture and there is an exchange of letters that at one point stops and corvo is Devastated and there is a REUNION and they are ADORABLE but also INCREDIBLY STUPID, AS IS RIGHT AND CORRECT, and i don’t know what happens later but it gives me warm fuzzies okay

then i have a NUMBER of oneshots that are more or less plotted out, like the one where jess has a kind of groundhog day because Heart reasons but over months and starts out not quite remembering what happened in past attempts and OF COURSE it ends with royal ot3; and there’s the one where Daud becomes the Outsider and is very temporally confused and OF COURSE it ends with corvodaud who do you take me for (including Very Perplexing arguments where daud doesn’t know at what point in this relationship’s development he is and corvo is angry or very patient depending on where he accidentally time travels to, and i make some assumptions about the non-linearity of the void avatar’s existence); and there’s the one where corvo catches the plague and gets through kingsparrow to get emily out then to people he trusts, ie the curnows and sam beechworth, then crawls away to die, but daud finds him and sighs and rolls up his sleeves and sends whalers to the Tower and emily thinks the Tower is haunted then, when it becomes very clear the Tower is not, demands one of these assassins teach her how to stab a bitch; AND THERE’S THE ONE WHERE CORVO AND JESS ARE GHOSTS AND DAUD IS A REAL ESTATE AGENT AND THE WHALERS ARE THE KIDS HE TRIED TO HELP OUT AS A SOCIAL WORKER and yes it’s ot3 and yes he buys the ghost house and ends up being filmed by the whalers to do cooking videos and fancy knife tricks and asmr because his voice is insanely soothing when he’s not being ornery; oh fuck and there’s the one where i wrote an unrequited corvodaud prompt and my brain grabbed it, smelled it, and decided that corvo very reluctantly falling for daud was necessary to the health of my feelings, and there is at least one (1) sleeping beauty coma while corvo yells at the outsider about the Heart; also there’s the one where in D2 billie was evasive about the old guy living with her on her boat and em finds daud rather than sokolov in jindosh’s basement and they have long, emotional discussions; and for the character building hell of it one that would span the outsider’s beginnings and growth and how the void tries to welcome him in

okay........................ i think i’m done rambling now

i love fanfic y’all