#yes i know i still have a fallout fic to write. leave me alone

[mrs-theirin]

pov my bf as he watches in horror as i disappear into my room for long lengths of time, either playing da2 to build my outline/gather inspiration for my longfic or actually building the outline/writing my longfic

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Revelations, Part One - a Malevolent fic

A quiet confrontation.

A painful revelation.

A glimpse of fallout to come.

Part of the Surrogate series. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

----------

Faroe saw it all. Saw it happen. Saw the knife slice through something, and saw the golden spark that was Sunny flying up from Parker’s body and almost lost. (“Normally, one has moorings,” Hastur explained as she cried that night, clinging to him. “Soul moorings, keeping one’s body attached to one’s soul. But Parker has none. I’ve never seen anything like it. Sunny is keeping him anchored. Sunny is the reason he’s alive. So.”)

So. When Sunny was severed, they had both gone… away. 

Had almost gotten away.

Until Dis.

“I want to know how they got in,” Hastur was snarling to his people, his rage flickering red through his gold robe and across his white mask like lightning. “How? How were they there? In my very fucking throne room?”  

Heads were going to roll, one way or another.

“But what happened?” said Arthur again, because he just didn’t understand, because who could?

Parker was in no condition to answer. “Come on, bud,” he kept saying, and tears slid down his cheeks, and he rubbed his jaw, and his lips. “Come on.” He hitched and wiped his face on his arm. “Come back to me. Come on.”

Sunny was there.

Sunny was quiet. Inert. Unresponsive.

“Parker,” said Arthur, trying again.

Parker wouldn’t talk to Arthur. Or anyone, right now. “Leave me the fuck alone!” he snapped, and returned to trying to coax Sunny to respond.

Arthur was blaming himself. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. They came for me. I’m so sorry, oh gods.”

“Shut the fuck up! This isn’t about you! Sunny. Come on, lover. Come on. Come back.” Parker wiped his face again.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Arthur.

Which was when Parker turned around and socked him right in the jaw. 

It turned into shouting over absolutely nothing, vague accusations, and the two men finally storming in different directions.

All Odd could think, in the wake of total chaos, was that he’d have to write a song about this clusterfuck eventually. Right now, though, other things were needed.  “Come on,” said Odd, trotting after Arthur, one hand on his shoulder to support, to comfort, to ground. “He needs some time. You’re okay.”

“He’s wrong. It is about me. This happened because of me,” Arthur hitched, head down, visibly seconds from collapse.

“Oh, quit it,” said Odd as though Arthur didn’t sound devastated. “Did you hire the guy? Did you arm them? Stop it. This is their fault, not yours.”

Arthur hugged himself.

“John still quiet?” said Odd, softly.

“Yes,” said Arthur.

John was quiet, but not inert. 

John was… 

John was…

I can’t right now. That was all he would say. 

#

The whole palace went on lockdown, and all guests and travelers (with the exception of Dagon) found themselves and their goods outside—with tents, if they really wanted to stick around—until the guilty party (?) was located.

Deep in the palace, in the windowless war room, Dis awaited her fate.

Dis did not run. She wanted to. That was on her face, in her body-language. Dis did not run, but waited for Hastur to come to her and discuss what happened.

Hastur entered, silent, still buzzing with rage, and hovered before her.

She just looked up at him. There really wasn’t any point in pretending she couldn’t meet the gaze of a Great Old One now.

“So,” he said, low.

“So,” she said, and crossed her arms.

“What the fuck just happened?” said Hastur.

She raised her chin. “That fucking knife was an obsidian core with that new shit the Mi-go are working with. The thing they call ‘amethyst-born,’ made from minerals of the Dark World. So. It cut Sunny loose.”

“That is not all it did,” said Hastur evenly. “And not why I am questioning you now.”

She swallowed.

“You caught them,” he said. “You caught his soul in your hand.”

“Yeah,” she said, challenging. 

“Peace.” He raised one hand. “I am angry, but not with you. How did you do that?”

She sighed and leaned forward, resting on her arms. “I probably have to leave after this.”

He waited.

“I put him back,” she said.

“You… put him back,” he repeated.

“Yes.” She crossed her arms again in denial of impossibility.

Hastur sighed. “It’s not as though I’ve ever thought you were human.”

“I have a lot of human in me,” she said, defensive.

“Dis.”

She set her jaw.

“Just tell me what I have hired to keep my daughter safe. That’s all. That’s all I’m asking. I have time for fuck-all else right now.”

Well, that was unexpected. Dis peered at him. Hastur was pristine. All those appearance spells were just… hard to look at, though. She sighed. “There’s… something… I have….”

He waited.

Her look was raw. “Too many generations to count. No familial contacts to pull in. Okay? It means nothing.”

He waited.

“Death has a little sister,” she said, and apparently that was all it took.

Hastur floated back, away from her, staring. “I’d assumed the name was… incidental.”

“It’s not.” She shrugged. “Second child gets some soul shaping skill every time. I don’t know why. And if generations go by with only a first-born, it doesn’t show up.”

“You have some of the powers of Death,” said Hastur quietly.

“You saw what powers I have,” she snapped.

“A descendent of Death’s own sister,” said Hastur thoughtfully.

She pointed one finger at him. “No.”

“No?” he said. “No? ”

“No. Whatever you’re thinking. I do my job here. As I’ve been hired to do. I don’t want anything to do with the rest of that. No plans, no schemes, no, How can I use this? bullshit. Listen to me, oh Lord of Carcosa. If you do anything like that, I’m out. I’m gone. I care about Faroe, and I want her safe, but I will not sacrifice my freedom to do it.”

Hastur sighed slowly. 

She waited.

“Had you done this any other time…” he said.

She waited.

“Fine,” said Hastur. “This is… yes. You’re right. I want to dig into it. I want to use you. I want to test your blood. There are so many things I want to do, but I have no time, and at the moment, I am far more interested in the fact that you can keep my daughter alive.”

“I’m not supposed to…” She stopped.

“Do what you did? I am hardly going to tattle,” he said, and his tone had gone warm, a little playful, distinctly manipulative.

“Don’t,” she warned.

“What do you want to keep you around when I am gone?” he said, suddenly blunt.

“Excuse me?”

“When I am gone, what will it take to keep you by her side?”

Dis laughed.

He waited.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she said. “I’m out! I’m done! An Outer God is coming, and you think I’m going to stick around?”

“He is coming for me.” His volume dropped. “For me. Not her, not them, not Carcosa. Me. My daughter will need you.”

She made a frustrated sound and rubbed her face. “I don’t have an answer for you. Not now.”

“Please.”

She stared at him over her fingertips.

He waited.

“Not. Now,” she said. “I need to think.”

“Thank you.” He accepted that as if it were some great compromise, gifted. 

She eyed him. “This is really fucking you up, isn’t it?” she said quietly.

Hastur floated there for a moment, and then he fled. Floated right out, leaving the door open, not so much as a golden sparkle in his wake.

Dis flopped back on the settee. “Whaaat the fuck is going on?” she mumbled, and stayed there until her heart rate slowed back down.

#

Parker sat under the balcony of his bedroom, hip-deep in dead leaves, and tried again. “Sunny. Come on. Come on, baby. I know you can hear me. I’m not giving up on you. Come on.”

Nothing.

He couldn’t eat any more. He’d tried every flavor he could think of. Even those fucking soap-leaves Sunny liked so much. Nothing worked.

It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t give up. “Come on, bud. I’m here. I’m not leaving you. Come on.”

Nothing.

He covered his face with his hands.

#

Faroe felt sick.

She’d tried so hard to keep anything from happening to anyone. She’d fought, and trained, and given up sleep; she’d been smart, and listened, and obeyed and learned. It hadn’t been enough.

Some tiny part of her knew this wasn’t her fault, but at the same time, it felt like it was. Gokar’luh was her fault (wasn’t it, really?), and now…

Parker wasn’t around. Dad probably knew where he was, but he wasn’t saying, too focused on trying to figure out how the enemy got inside. Arthur was…

He hadn’t cried like this since she was little. Seeing it again brought memories back, and though they hadn’t been any big deal at the time (Arthur always cries, she recalled saying to Nibbles), now, it was… horrible.

Arthur cried all the time. He’d stopped for a while, yes, gotten better, but it seemed that had been broken, too. 

Somehow, she felt like it was her fault. She hadn’t been… enough. Strong enough. Smart enough. Something enough.

The palace was so damned empty with everyone in tents outside the gates. 

She wandered, alone, aware of its raw size more than she’d ever been. Had it always been this big? Had she always been this small?

There was no one. No one around, and that was fine. The shame…

This had to be her fault. It felt like her fault. So she walked in the dark, with Nibbles at her side, and cried.

She didn’t realize someone was there until he spoke. “Hey, little lady,” said Dagon very quietly. “You okay?”

“No!” she cried, and flung herself at him.

He caught her up, adjusting his size on the fly so she could lean against his chest without being swallowed completely in his arms. “There’s a lotta rumors.”

“Everything went so wrong,” she sobbed.

Nibbles butted his leg.

“Yeah, you too,” he said, and grabbed the goatling up. “Right. Tell Uncle Dagon about it. Right now. Okay? Maybe I can help.”

“You can’t,” she said, barely audible.

“Dunno ‘til we try,” he said.

Nibbles rested her head on Faroe’s knee.

Faroe found herself talking, or trying to. It felt like she couldn’t get any words out that meant anything real.

He seemed to understand anyway, for whatever reason, and grew deeply, quietly pensive. “Mm,” he said, his eyes shadowed by his furrowed brow.

Whatever he was thinking, right now, he kept it to himself, and that was good. He let her cry herself out, and finally fall into an exhausted sleep, without having to do anything or please anyone or explain anything at all.

“Think it’s time I had a talk with her dad,” Dagon said quietly to Nibbles. “There’s this group… well. You’ll hear it. Let’s go together,” he said, and—walking carefully so as not to wake the princess—went to find her father.

#

Hastur couldn’t find the hole. His defenses remained completely untouched, unscratched, pristine. There was absolutely no answer as to how the fuck this happened.

Yang was still hiding under his damn balcony, out of sight. Fine. Arthur…

Arthur was talking with Odd, or at least being with Odd, silent. Fine. Hastur wanted to… to…

He wanted to comfort his own. He had no fucking time.

He flew past their room, hearing Odd singing softly in there, the same kind of sad, comforting music he’d heard the other night—gently prying open the heart, letting infection bleed out. 

Good. Good. They’d be all right. They had to. John seemed fine?

John… seemed weird, but there was no time.

Something had gotten through his defenses. His best defenses. So. He had to do more. Somehow.

He didn’t know how to do more than he already was, and flew around his palace, then around his city, doubling, tripling protections, which was pointless because anything that could bust through what he already had could bust through the same thing twice over, but what else could he do?

He could move Carcosa, so he did, stranding quite a few dignitaries and merchants, but whatever. They were only a day from Celephaïs. They’d be fine.

(He’d bribe them later when they bitched about it, so. Again. Whatever.)

After five hours, he found nothing. No hint of anything strange at all, with one exception: in his throne room, right smack dab center on the seat of his throne, was a pink, plastic hair curler.

That was weird as fuck, and it terrified him. This didn’t exist here. There was no plastic. There was no pink that shade. Nobody used these.

He didn’t dare touch it himself, but had a Dancer carry it away to flick it from a window, letting it fall to the wilderness below.

He hadn’t landed the city anywhere yet. Nowhere felt safe.

He wasn’t sure what to do. What he could do. Allies? Maybe; but what if one of them was behind this?

The lizard had been identified: a minor prince, though that prince’s father was a known asshole. He’d never quite allied with Hastur, but hadn’t quite rebuffed him, either—a cautious, insulting game, kept at arm’s length. Well, one thing was for sure: Thesia was a dead land. They didn’t know it yet, but they were. By the time he was done, Sarkomand would seem like a fucking day at the beach.

“Hey,” said Dagon.

Hastur looked up and found this particular ally in possession of his daughter and her goat.

For just one moment, he nearly lost it. Nearly just attacked, insane, paranoid, desperate to get her out of harm’s way, but… she wasn’t in harm’s way. She was curled on one enormous bicep, soundly asleep, tear-tracks on her face, eyes and nose both red.

Seeing her like that wrenched his hearts so badly that he gripped his chest, half sure they were all tearing in two.

Nibbles made one soft sound.

“Yeah,” Dagon agreed as though he understood that. “Hastur. I got something for you.”

“My daughter,” Hastur growled.

Dagon seemed to understand his condition and didn’t take the growling personally. “She needs some help you can’t give her, but I might know who can.”

“What?” Panic now, digging sharp claws into the cracks his hearts already bore. “What? What’s wrong?”

“She’s got…” Dagon paused, visibly trying to find words. “Human hurts. Her mind. Her soul. They don’t deal with shit like you and me, Hastur. You know that.”

“Of course I know that!” Hastur snapped. “I studied. I made sure her entire life is shaped so she can handle it!”

Dagon sighed. “She needs more’n that.”

Hastur sat down. Settled on the ground, in a nest of his own limbs, and stilled. “What does she need that I have not given her?” he said in a hollow voice.

“People who been through what she has,” Dagon said. “I know this group. I know ‘em because sometimes, my kids gotta go there, too. It’s… it’s kids of gods. No affiliation, no national borders, no… political bullshit. Just kids who’ve been through shit, mostly thanks to their parents and all the shit we get up to. They help each other. I think it might do her good to go.”

Hastur had no frame of reference for this. “I don’t understand.”

“Me neither, honestly,” said Dagon, and shrugged. “But my offspring swear by it. I think it might help her.”

“It… is a permanent thing?” said Hastur quietly.

“Eh? No, she wouldn’t move out. They just… they get together at the Scriptorium and talk, and they get better because they did. It’s fucking human.”

Fucking human. Faroe was fucking human, as much as he tried to elevate her beyond. And she was beyond, yes, he held to that belief, but… she was fucking human, too.

Maybe she did need this. It didn’t sound like something he could give. “They’re safe?”

“Been going on for years. Never had a single incident, far as I know,” said Dagon. “Your spooky librarian friend runs the place, though I hear she’s not involved directly.”

Hastur shook. “I don’t know.”

“Think about it. Anyway, I got her. You do what you gotta do.” And just like that, he carried her away. Nibbles glared over Dagon’s massive shoulder as if daring Hastur to concede.

Hastur had a rare moment of introspection, of truth: if he did this, let her go and find comfort in this group of people that had nothing to do with him, it would be a major step in separating her emotionally from him. 

Which… was supposed to happen anyway as she grew up. Wasn’t it?

This hurt. 

Everything hurt.

Hastur rose and went to check his wards again, adding a fourth and fifth layer, trying and failing to feel any better.

#

Parker had finally climbed back into his room because his back hurt, and wherever the city’d gone was cold now, and it wasn’t helping, anyway.

Part of him thought if he hurt badly enough, Sunny might come out. The other part thought if he hurt at all, Sunny would somehow blame himself, and never come out. There was no way to win this.

He didn’t know what to do. This was esoteric bullshit. He didn’t know how to fix this.

He lay on his bed, smelling of stone and dried leaves, and wet his pillow with tears. It was one thing to vow he’d try forever to bring Sunny back. He would absolutely try for the rest of his life, but he hadn’t honestly realized how badly it would hurt for that soft, sweet presence to just… go away.

He clenched his fists in the pillow. “Fuck,” he muttered, because he knew he owed Arthur an apology, but there were just no coins left in his emotional purse for that. He couldn’t do it. Not now.

A knock at the door.

Who in fuck…“Go the fuck away!” he bellowed (into his pillow, though, so it maybe wasn’t as fierce as it could be).

Another knock.

Whoever this was was gonna get hit.

Parker got up. Cracked his neck. Stalked toward that door with murder in his eyes. Fists clenched, he flung it open, and—

The King in Yellow hovered there.

“You?” said Parker.

“I am here to help,” said Hastur.

“You can’t.” Parker slammed the door. That felt pretty good.

Another soft knock.

He rubbed his face and opened it. “Help how?”

“I can speak with him. Get him communicating.”

Parker narrowed his eyes. Hastur sounded so… so… 

Subdued? Diminished? Tired? Something not-booming and not-announcing and not-overriding all else. 

Something not very Hastur.

“Why?” Parker demanded.

“Because he is my responsibility, and my failure to protect us all is the reason he’s hurt. Let me in, Parker Yang.”

Hastur didn’t need permission to come in. He was asking for it, anyway.

Parker could feel himself go pale. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing more than I have said. Let me in, Parker Yang.”

“Okay, you know what?” Parker said. “You know what? Sure! Why the fuck not! Come on in! Do your best! Long as you don’t hurt him.”

“I am not going to hurt him,” said Hastur, and hovered through the enormous door.

Parker closed it after him. Whatever was going to happen didn’t need any witnesses. He sniffled and wiped his face on his arm.

“Sit,” said Hastur.

“Sure. Whatever.” Parker sat. He looked out his balcony at the moons until they blurred, and wiped his face again.

“You will feel me,” said Hastur quietly. “I will not harm you, but you will feel me in your soul.”

“Oh, great,” said Parker. “Not even gonna buy a guy dinner first?”

“I have given you many dinners,” said Hastur, either too dry to pull the joke off or too tired to get it at all.

Parker shuddered. He cupped his jaw. His tears spilled, and this time he let them. “Save him,” he said. “Whatever it takes. I… I’ll owe you whatever. I don’t care. Just save him.”

“That is my intent,” said Hastur, and didn’t move at all, and yet—

Parker’s mind went blissfully blank as the King in Yellow slid between his thoughts, pressing Parker’s essence flat and calm, holding it still.

Quietly, expertly, Hastur went diving for gold.

#

It was calm and quiet and dark here, like looking up at the smooth surface of The Lake from beneath. Sometimes he caught glimpses of what happened outside, but things there didn’t make sense—it was bright, and confusing, and loud, and it hurt, and he fled back into the dark where things were calm and quiet and he simply could be.

He was safe, here. The screaming did not affect him (but he was screaming and he was weeping and it made him twist and ache and it was his fault) and the flashes of chaos he saw on the other side he could merely back away from, into the deeper part of this stillness where (he belonged because it was his fault) he was safe.

That is why it was surprising when things… changed.

Hello? He almost jumped at the sound of a voice. His voice? He did not have a voice. He merely was. Something was wrong.

Sunny. Little one. I am here.

The presence didn’t so much as cause a ripple here. It was being so careful, so cautious; and it was so… familiar.

It was not a bad familiar, and that was scary. He tried to shrink away, to wriggle further into the darkness. You’re not supposed to be here. No one is supposed to be here! That’s not fair!

Yet, I am here.

These simple statements were… good. Not hard to parse. They made no ripples.

If they made no ripples, perhaps they were not bad. And maybe that meant he was not bad? But how could he (his fault) be bad? No one is supposed to know I’m here. How… How did you find me?

I am you. There is nowhere you can go where I cannot find you. And the voice let that statement settle.

So familiar. Even welcoming; like fitting against a shape cut out just for him. It did nothing now, but waited, silent, not going away. Weirdly… stable, as if, perhaps, it was big enough to maintain its own gravity, like the sun.

It was nice. It was warm. It felt safe, but that couldn’t be right. Oh. I… I found this place by accident, a long time ago. Or… A long time ago for me. It’s safe here.

It can be. Though not without cost.

Cost? He didn’t know of any cost. The cost, maybe, was That Man might get angrier, but what could That Man do while he was here? I don’t understand. No one has ever found me here before. Did… Did you come here because you were scared, too?

No. I came here because one who loves you is grieving and needs help.

That couldn’t be right. Oh. I think you have me confused for someone else. I’m sorry.

I am you. How could I mistake you for anyone else?

I’m not anyone. Why would someone grieve me? That’s like grieving no one at all. You speak in riddles.

Parker Yang.

Those words hit him like a blow. Like a stab. Like

(his fault his fault HIS FAULT HIS FAULT HISFAULTHISFAULTHISFAULT )

He curled tighter, shuddering, wailing. I—I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to hurt him! I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!

The ripples were his alone, violent, in time with his sobs.

The voice waited. Waited until his sobs calmed to whimpers, until stillness and obtuse reflection were all that remained on the surface of the lake. You saved his life. If not for you, he would be dead—and given that he has died before, we could not bring him back. You saved him. 

He didn’t want to remember this. He wasn’t supposed to hurt here, he wasn’t supposed to be afraid. I saw him die. I watched him die! I was—I was falling, and I tried to grab, and I—I killed him!

The attacker almost killed him. You are the one who keeps him moored; he has no soul moorings, little one. Only you. When you grabbed him, you saved him. He lives. And he mourns.

This was unfair. Things weren’t supposed to hurt here! I deserve this. I killed him. He’s the only person who ever loved me, and I killed him.

He lives because of you. This other was so… patient. Without you, he would be dead. You did not kill him. Do you know how I know this to be true?

How? How do you know? You didn’t see him die. I… I watched him. And I couldn't stop it.

I did. I was there. I saw the knife, which cut. I saw him rise from his body… with you. And I saw you hold him, and so secure him to it. How I know, little one, is because you are alive. If he lives, you live. If he dies, you die. And if you die, he dies. If you live, he lives. You are bound. You did not kill him or you, too, would be dead.

I deserve to be dead!

Perhaps. That is not a decision we always are able to make for ourselves. Many deserve to die who live. And many who live deserve to die. Does he deserve to die?

This voice… One by one the spines softened and he uncurled from the ball of terror and misery he had become. No. He deserves to live. He deserves to live forever, and to be happy forever.

On this, we agree, little one. And the voice let that sink in, because that was important, that mattered. They had to agree on this.

Did you bring him back?

You did. He would be dead if you had not held on. You saved him from the assassin’s knife. That is a very good thing to have done, don’t you think?

I couldn’t put him back. I… I didn’t realize he would go with me. I tried to put him back.

If you live, he lives. If you die, he dies. And because you held onto him, Dis was able to put him back. Do you remember your friend, Dis? She put you both back. You are together either way—alive or dead. Perhaps you should thank her.

I… I don’t remember Dis. I don’t remember much when I am here at all. He paused. I don't think I remember very much outside, either. I think I am sick. Broken. Full of holes.

As am I. There might have been some gentle, sad amusement in there. As is he without you. He calls for you, little one. Desperately, until his throat gives out. Desperately, until his eyes swell and his nose clogs. He calls for you.

How does he know I’m here? No one is supposed to know I’m here. It’s what keeps me safe from That Man when he… hurts me.

Was there a pause? Hard to say. Everything was so placid and quiet; perhaps it didn’t give him pause. Your special person knows you are here because his heart is fixed on you. He calls for you, little one. He needs you. If you die, he dies. If you stay here… he will fade. Do you want him to fade?

No. I don’t want that. He trembled.

You and I are one. Sometimes, we know we must do what is painful for those we love. Don’t we?

So calm. So soothing. But… he knew. This other knew what he was saying. They weren’t empty words, and a deep, incomprehensible pain echoed in him, like a secret heartbeat.

I… It hurts. It hurts so much. There is so much that hurts, and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to hurt anymore.

This pause was real. Yes. Hurting is… difficult. I know. Yet that is not all there is. A sensation, brief; a memory of the scent of chocolate, of the feel of another’s laughter in his throat, warm and hearty and known. It is not without pain, this life; yet it is not without joy, either. To have one, we must have the other. 

You sound so sad, he said, voice small. Is it my fault?

No. It is that my time is shorter than yours, and I wish I had learned what I am telling you sooner. There is joy and there is pain, never one without the other; but the joy is worth the struggle. I wish I had known. Perhaps I want us to know this now, together.

Will you be there? I’m scared to go back. I’m scared of That Man. He wants to hurt my special person, and he likes to hurt me.

You will not be alone. I will be there. And Parker Yang is there, now, waiting. He needs you—imperfect, flawed, with holes. Perhaps those holes can be filled. Perhaps you fill each other.

He—P-Parker. He is… the only good thing that ever happened to me.

The voice didn’t argue that. He is worth, perhaps, the pain? Such a gentle question. 

I think… I think so, yes. Someone very important asked me the same, and... I think he is. Then I had… things, to think about, but then everything happened, and then I saw him die. I saw Parker die. I can’t… I can’t let that happen again. Never.

I agree. So we also agree you will return to him. If you don’t, he is going to search for ways to bring you back—and he will go into great danger.

No! No! He can’t!

There’s a longing now, in this other’s voice. For you, little one, he would walk into the sun. For you, he would flay his own skin. For you, he would do anything. So. Perhaps if you are together, what you can do for each other is good things, gentle things, instead of desperate or cruel.

I won’t let him. I won’t. But… He let out a soft sob. I’m lost. I never went this far before.

Do you want to be with him? Put aside fears… guilt… shame. Does being with him make you happy? It makes him happy.

Stacking the deck now, was this other.

I think so. I’ve never been happy before, so… that must be happy. Right?

Yes. He is unhappy without you. He needs you to live; but also… to LIVE.

The first ripples this other caused. Here and now. On that crucial word. That beautiful, powerful word, to consider Parker Yang… LIVING.

An echo? 

Parker’s voice?

Hoarse, rough. Calling. Sunny! Sunny! A sob. Sunny!

Barely audible, barely there, maybe a memory.

Who… Who is… Am I Sunny?

Yes. Gentle, sweet warmth. The name that he gifted to you out of love.

He… He didn’t gift it to me. I chose it. His breath, shaky, full of tears rippled the surface of The Lake. He calls me Sunshine.

There. That is a good name. A good memory. A joyful thing that weighs more than the pain.

Silence now, stillness. So they could both sit in the beauty of a name.

I am Sunny. I love poetry, and I love food, and I love Parker Yang.

They both sat in the wake of that. Definition; boundaries. Something to keep it all in, so it didn’t melt out and be lost.

If you wish to see him—to help him live, to bring him joy, and to know the joy he brings you—I can lead you home.

Because they both knew who “home” was.

I’m ready to come home now. Will you teach me how to find my way back? This won’t be the last time I come here, but… I don’t want to get lost again.

Yes. You will never be lost again. Come. I will show you the way.

The way through thoughts and brambles, the way through pain and scars, the way through darkness by following drops of light—glints, even in the darkest hours, pieces of things that were good and whole, hints of joy too golden to be lost even in the worst of the shadow. It was a constellation, a beacon, and when he fixed his gaze on it he could track it like the North Star.

The way was there. It had always been there—but only if Sunny was willing to see.

…Parker?

#

Parker came to doubled over on himself. He sat in that chair, still, and Hastur held him so he didn’t fucking fall on his face. “Uh,” Parker said.

“Parker Yang,” said Hastur, and his voice rumbled in Parker’s bones. “You are not alone.”

“Sunny!” Parker sat up so fast he was dizzy (or maybe already was dizzy, and this just brought that home). “Sunny?”

I’m here, said Sunny, who sounded worn, who sounded exhausted, who sounded like the most precious thing Parker had ever heard. I’m here, my love.

And Parker did something Sunny had never heard before: he fucking sobbed. “Sunny,” he managed, doubling over again and hugging himself. “Sunny. Oh, gods. I thought I lost you. Sunny.” He put both hands on his face, cupping his jaw. “Sunny!”

I’m sorry I left you alone, Sunny whispered, settling into the touch. I’m never going to leave you alone like this again. Never. I’m all-in, partner. 

This weeping was hard to read. It was so… naked; relieved, but utterly gutted. He couldn’t seem to stop. “Thought I lost you. I thought… I wasn’t… I didn’t stop looking, I… I don’t care you left, I…” He broke down again.

Hastur was gone. Parker didn’t notice.

“Whatever you need, bud,” Parker said, choked. “I don’t care what it is. We’ll do it. Anything. Ain’t never gonna let you stay lost.” And barely audible: “Thank you for coming back. You came back. You came back.”

I didn’t mean to stay away so long. I… He shuddered. Not… Now. Not right now. I need you. I’m sorry I left, Parker. But when I… Remembered, Hastur showed me how to follow you back. Ya Hafh Yogfm’l.

That seemed to amaze him. “I… we owe him. Dis, too.” He winced. “That fucking knife… it’s some new thing they… they said the Mi-Go came up with it. It can cut entwined souls. They were aiming for Arthur. I… fuck. I owe him an apology.” He paused. “I fuckin’ hit him.”

What? Why?

Parker sighed. “Because he was there. And you weren’t. Not my best moment, bud, if I’m honest.”

Sunny let out a rumble that Parker could feel in his chest, in his bones, in his soul. He is well acquainted with the way grief makes one mad. I am sure he will forgive you.

“Yeah.” Parker hadn’t sat up. Hadn’t stopped hugging himself. Hadn’t let go of his own face—the only contact he could have with his partner. “Still. Can’t say I handled this great. Even Faroe stayed away.” He sniffled. “Hastur’s gonna go after the lizard guy’s nation. Got a bad feeling it won’t go so great for them.” And he realized the god was gone. “Fuck. Didn’t thank him.”

I think… I think I shook him up badly. But he was kind to me.

Parker was silent for a moment. “He’s fucked up. And he doesn’t have someone like you. So. I dunno what to do about that right now. I can’t… think beyond having you back. That’s all, for me. Right now. Everybody else in the world can fuck themselves.” He sniffled. “You came back.”

I cannot promise I won’t dissociate again; but I will promise you now, on my love for you, on my soul, that I will always, always find a way back.

“Nobody’s ever loved me like that,” Parker whispered. “Glad it goes both ways.” He exhaled slowly. “I just… I need to just be here with you for a while. That okay?”

No one has ever loved me like you, Parker. I need you too. As long as it takes.

Parker stood (and Sunny noticed the state of his clothes, and his unshaven beard) and staggered over to their bed. 

Their bed.

“Haven’t slept since it happened,” said Parker, and all but collapsed into it. “Hey. Stupid… stupid thing. Can you maybe… sing to me?”

Of course, Sunny rumbled. My voice, or yours?

“Yours. I missed you so damn much.” His voice broke.

I can’t forget the night I met you, Sunny sang, It’s all I’m dreaming of; and now you call it madness…

Parker’s exhale was like all the tension in the world melting away, fog in morning light. Slowly, he relaxed. Slowly, his eyes closed. He stroked his lips for a while, then his jaw, and finally slipped into a deeply exhausted sleep, face cradled in his hand.

But I call it love.

#

Arthur lay and listened to Odd’s music.

Mostly just fiddling around (ha, a pun), but it was… helpful. Calming. Helped Arthur’s thoughts to fall better in line like notes on a staff. Not that it helped much else. But… it helped this. 

He lay, and listened, and tried to think.

The guy had come after him. Debriefing really made that clear. Why, though? Why?

Vaguely, he had some guesses about Hastur’s bid for power, and a purported child (John… who was still quiet), but come on. Really? Really? All this, for that? It would start a war! Who would possibly be stupid enough to do this?

Odd, said John quietly, out of nowhere. Do you know any Earth songs?

“Sure, a few,” said Odd. “Got a request?”

“John?” said Arthur, his stuffed nose turning it into Jod.

Yes. Nat King Cole. You Call It Madness.

“Huh,” said Odd, thoughtful. “I’ve heard it. Couldn't tell you where. I've never gotten it as a request before, but it’s pretty clear in my head.” He plucked a few strings of his violin, finding a note to begin. “You made a plaything out of romance, what were you thinking of— right?”

John took it up where Odd left off. You made a promise to be faithful… by all the stars above. And now you call it madness, but I call it love.

Arthur had gone silent. Listening.

“Oh, my heart is beating, it keeps repeating for you constantly,” Odd sang, coaxing his violin into the piano line. “You’re all I’m needing, and so I’m pleading: please come back to me.”

Tears slid down Arthur’s face. He lay still, on his side, curled like a kidney bean.

Arthur, said John quietly. I remember.

Odd let his voice drop to a hum, his violin a gentle backdrop of music as he watched the pair from the corner of his eye.

“You remember?” Arthur picked up his head a bit. “Oh… Oh, gods, John. I’m so sorry. What was it… Was it when I opened the book? This song was playing, then, wasn’t it?”

Everything. I remember everything. All of it. When I saved you tonight, something happened.

“Something…”

Odd gently set down his bow, pulling the violin off his shoulder, just subtly enough to not make a sound. 

“You remember everything?” Arthur whispered, and made a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You’re back?”

Everything, said John. Including before I met you. We need to talk. Arthur. I am the King in Yellow.

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

Notes:

Soooo the cat is out of the bag! Dis sort of leaked in here from my original series, Among the Mythos. Have a short story with her namesake!

[wackus-bonkus-maximus]

odnlb writing process/workshop

this is mainly for my own reference. however, if this post ends up helping you with yours, then even better! 😊

most of you know, i wrote this fic as a practice for using save the cat (aka snyder) structure, and so now that it's complete i have the outline to come back to in a way that i understand and can use in future wips! did i deviate from this structure? yes. a lot. did i still follow all the beats though? i think so! check out how i formatted my outline!

my starting point: marinette 🐞

want: revenge against monarque

need: replace hate with love

this gave me a very clear picture of the emotional journey she would undergo. once i figured out her emotional need and decided what she would do to fulfill that need, i was able to pretty much plot out the entire fic. we needed a hero (in her case, an anti-hero) we could follow through an entire 45 chapter fic, and odnlb marinette gave us a reason to care about her and root for her right off the bat!

here's what save the cat's 15-beat structure looks like at a glance:

(isn't it just beautiful? 😍)

for odnlb, i combined this structure with the 3-act, 9-block, 27-chapter method:

lol so i did not exactly stick to this, as was my plan (my huge cast of characters wanted more from me.) however, i did stick with the proper beats...it just ended up expanding into 5 acts.

this is how my outline ended up looking (orange = save the cat, purple = 3 act 9 block 27 chapters):

act 1 - ladybug meets the villains

block 1

opening image - marinette leaves a rose at chat noir's statue. her eyes are dead (like him)

introductions/setup - 6 years later, marinette works for chloe. adrien still models for gabriel & is estranged from her and his old friends

theme stated - alya says, "you're getting better." (marinette has not been focused on hatred, but her personal growth)

catalyst/ inciting incident - bunnyx steals the rabbit miraculous & draws out the villain team

debate/ immediate reaction / fallout - villain team decides to abandon plan to use rabbit miraculous & get ladybug's miraculous instead. marinette decides to get cat walker's miraculous & kill monarque with it.

block 2

actions - ladybug interrogates adrien agreste bc he is close to lila, chloe, and felix (primary suspects). he doesn't give her any information, but reassures her he is on her side.

consequences - volpina attacks ladybug, villain team overpower her

block 3

pressure - ladybug is outnumbered, cannot stand against all the holders & their power-ups. villain side: ladybug is onto them. ladybug needs an ally & turns to kagami (also close to felix), but kagami turns ladybug down (but why?).

pinch/plot twist - cat walker contacts ladybug: tells her monarque is going to resume akuma attacks unless lb gives her miraculous

break into act 2 - monarque attempts to akumatize ladybug, but cat walker saves her. realizes villains' motivations are split.

act 2 - rise of monarque

block 4

new world - luka and zoe come to town. adrien is in trouble but felix stands by him. su han abandons marinette; he cannot teach her bc she has too much hatred.

fun and games/ b story/ies - felix and adrien switch so adrien can meet his friends for drinks. chloe sneaks snake miraculous back to luka. felix and lila threaten each other. felix likes kagami.

bad guys close in - monarque akumatizes nino to punish adrien. marinette finds out cat walker is a sentimonster

juxtaposition/ old vs new - luka/aspik shows up & joins marinette's side (she's not alone anymore). adrien realizes he has to be alone bc of what happened to nino. kagami confronts felix and gets the dragon miraculous (war begins)

act 3 - adrien identity reveal

block 5

build-up - luka and marinette plot to find the sentimonster. luka confronts adrien indirectly, suspects monarque is gabriel. marinette sleuths on felix (suspected peacock holder) only to discover adrien is a sentimonster/cat walker. kagami finds ladybug & offers to spy on felix & the villain team for her. monarque akumatizes zoe to punish chloe. ryuko gets her felix's amok in the fight, but gets it back when ladybug uses it against him. to stop ladybug harming argos & ryuko, luka reveals chat noir is still alive.

midpoint - montparnasse scene: ladybug confronts cat walker, he admits the truth. stand off with monarque until aspik & mellona rescue ladybug.

reversal - marinette is no longer hate driven, but driven by love to save adrien

act 4 - angrybug reversal

block 6

reaction - due to big emotional distress, ladybug goes into the avatar state (foreshadowing 👀). luka and chloe calm her down. feligami get together. adrien pleads to his father not to harm ladybug.

action/trials (raise the stakes) - the more adrien breaks his amok, the more he breaks his miraculous. marinette is set up to "spy" on adrien for the villain team. villain team plot to corner ladybug at dj wifi wedding.

dedication - adrinette kiss scene. adrien promsies himself he will harm himself before he lets harm come to ladybug. marinette promises no more harm will come to him.

block 7

calm before the storm - lila flashback: she killed nathalie and has been akumatized/transformed for 6 years. balcony scene: marinette tries to keep adrien close to no avail.

pinch/plot twist - volpina and monarque attack chloe, luka, and zoe. vesperia and carapace get their miraculous back. ladybug tries to heal cat walker & free him with her power, but his miraculous is too broken. she can only save him by getting his amok.

everything goes wrong/ dark night of the soul/ all is lost - lila & felix flashback: lila is monarque reveal. ladybug confronts gabriel agreste & tries to kill him, but can't (bc she is no longer full of hate). realizes monarque is lila. monarque takes felix, but kagami takes the other miraculous back to ladybug.

act 5 - fall of monarque

block 8 - finale

power within - team assemble. chloe uses mouse miraculous to activate other holders. lila finds marinette's identity.

action - monarque attacks. luka sacrifices himself to get the upper hand. alya gets the fox miraculous off lila, all her illusions drop. lila akumatizes timetagger, bunnyx shows up to get him. team fights argos and his sentimonster, red moon, to the death. chloe incapacitates argos.

converge - monarque takes the senti-twins and runs. remainder of the team follow her to agreste mansion.

block 9

final confrontation/final battle - monarque tries to make felix fix her miraculous. ladybug and team show up. monarque morphs into monster and attacks. gabriel sacrifices himself to save lb, but monarque still gets the upper hand. chat noir cataclysms monarque with a broken miraculous.

climax - the broken cataclysm destroys the world, but carapace's shield protects remainder of team. with adrien gone, felix is free and emilie is awake. ladybug goes toe-to-toe with broken miraculous final form chat noir, but her power is too weak compared to his untethered destruction. then felix gives her the peacock miraculous and she uses it to create a new bond for adrien, tethering him to life with her love.

resolution/denouement - all of paris knows chat noir is alive! big parade for heroes. ladybug and chat noir do a william and kate kiss. alya shoos off su han. felix gives gabriel to chloe and decides to work for tsurugi tech so he can stay with kagami. zoe and luka decide to go back home for a bit then come to stay too. emilie wants to be close to felix and adrien, but she is def not the priority for them atm. marinette takes the butterfly miraculous back from emilie. adrinette go off on a honeymoon vacation. adrien practices his proposal on a beach.

final image - adrien and marinette playing in the water on a beach on la reunion. “camera” pans away from their silhouettes running around on the sand, back to their stuff on the beach. shows a ring box in adrien’s bag with plagg & tikki chilling.

if this helped you out, i'm so glad! it definitely helped me see how to organize a story. i think if i ever do a fic like odnlb again, i will definitely do this for it.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Words, Words, Words

Prompt: Hey, prompt idea! I would love some roman angst where after POF he stops talking and the other assume that he's mad at them when in reality he is unable to speak. As a selective mute myself, I would love to read a fic like this! - anon

it's been a while since I've posted fresh Roman angst and WOW did this jump out at me and go hey do you wanna project really really hard onto a character? 

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Roman is nonverbal for a lot of this story and some of the things he does when he’s upset by that are self-destructive, nothing explicit

Pairings: the found family kick aint stopping

Word Count: 4128

He didn’t do it on purpose. He swears, he—he didn’t do it on purpose.

  He just couldn’t talk.

It—it hurt, of…of course, it hurt to—to see the fallout of his bad decision explode with such…disastrous consequences. It hurt to see Patton so upset and confused because everyone was expecting him to have answers that he didn’t and—and Roman will take the blame for that, that’s his fault. And it hurt to see Logan so upset even when he was just there in his lowdowns and he—he didn’t have to be so cruel to Logan, that’s his fault too. And it—

  …it hurt to see that he really is just as awful as Remus, even if J—

  No. It doesn’t matter.

  Roman messed up. Really, really bad. And he’ll take the blame for that, he will, he—he knows he hasn’t been the best at accepting the blame in the past, but…he’ll take this one.

  But he didn’t do this on purpose.

  Roman doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s Creativity, or whether he’s the Ego, or what, but sometimes he just…can’t speak. Sometimes his words machine will just…stop working and he won’t be able to speak. He can normally still write or text, and he can understand when others talk, he just can’t say anything.

  The others don’t know, at least he’s never told them. He doesn’t want to be a bother—or have them start to make fun of him when he can’t defend himself—so he normally makes his writing days the ones where he can’t speak out loud. It’s a good way to make sure no one’s worried about why he’s shut up in his room all day or why he’s not speaking much at dinner. Plus, what kind of a prince would he be if he couldn’t talk?

  Don’t worry, he knows he’s not a prince.

  But the others like Prince Roman. Or rather, they like the narrative function that Prince Roman fulfills. So he does his best to make sure they…get that.

  But he didn’t mean for it to happen, not like this.

  He…he knows he messed up after the wedding. He sunk out and made it to his room and fell to his knees, hurt from everything and then some. The bruises hadn’t shown through his costume or gotten too far down his sleeves, but he—he still felt them. He tried to get up and make it to the shower to just wash off the day—the week—the month but getting his arms up to peel away the costume left him panting and he just wanted to curl up and sleep until everything stopped hurting.

  He managed to get himself into the shower and felt his tongue become lead in his mouth.

  He cleared his throat to try and make a noise but all that escaped was a soft rush of air.

  It…hurt.

  It wasn’t gone by morning. Most of the time he can sleep it off or—or if he just gives it some time he’ll—he’ll be fine but it wasn’t gone. His tongue lay there, useless, and he couldn’t say a word.

  That was okay, though, he could—he could make this a writing day. He wouldn’t dare touch anything he wanted to make for Thomas, his hands would shake too much and he—he doesn’t know what Thomas wants anymore so he wouldn’t get it right even if he could try.

  No, no, he could…he could write things for him today.

  Not as a reward for his atrocious behavior, not anything that would be read by anyone else or be useful in any way, but just to…to get some of the worst bits of him out so he wasn’t absolutely abominable when the others wanted him again. Yes, today he could…write.

  ‘Writing,’ what an interesting word for being willing to sit and bleed for others to see.

  Roman’s words don’t so much as pour out of him as much as he sets his fingers on his keys and then can’t control his typing. He just—it hurt and he knows that no one else would want to hear about his hurt so he pours them out into the blank spaces in the white page and tries to imagine that maybe, maybe, someone would read them and see how badly it hurt and pull him close and tell him that everything would be okay.

  If maybe, if he wrote a story good enough, if he made it hurt enough, someone would care.

  He sits there and pours into the blank document until it’s panting and weary from the torrent of words, until his hands ache and the tips of his fingers are worn warm and raw from the click-click-click of the keys. Until the hurt he feels gathers up into a small, dark well just under his tongue, right in the bottom of his jaw, itching and screaming to get out. It leaks out down his arms, making the inside of his wrists tingle as he types.

  No one will read this, no one will see it. These words won’t see the light of day anytime soon.

  And Roman’s tongue is still made of lead.

  He takes his words and lets them tumble clumsily out of his hands, trying in vain to scoop them up and shove them out of his mouth instead but his tongue won’t cooperate. He knows he can’t talk, that he can’t force it, that trying to make it happen will only lead to more pain.

  But he wants to try.

  When his words aren’t back by the next day, he swallows what’s left of his pride, which isn’t much, and goes out to face the others.

  He finds Patton first. Patton doesn’t acknowledge him, so he sits politely down on the couch with a notebook and waits, trying to see if his words will come out through the pen instead of his tongue. But Patton doesn’t talk to him unless he’s asking if Roman wants a drink and well, Roman doesn’t—doesn’t need words for that.

  Patton looks so disappointed in him.

  He wants to try. He wants to open his mouth and tell Patton he’s sorry. Sorry for everything. He wants to. He wants to.

  He opens his mouth and his tongue deflates, useless, just enough for him to sigh and hunch his shoulders in defeat.

  He doesn’t want to disappoint Patton, he wasn’t trying to disappoint Patton, he wants to apologize and be better, but he can’t.

  Perhaps that is the true disappointment.

  Logan is next to appear because Logan is Logan and Roman loves him and Logan always gets his cup of coffee in the morning before breakfast. He walks down the stairs and also does not look at Roman which is fine because that is what Roman deserves but he wants to try.

  He opens his mouth to call out to Logan or Patton but his tongue is so heavy and he can’t. He can’t speak. He should be able to speak, he should be able to say something to Logan, he should be able to tell him how sorry he is but he can’t and he’s useless.

  His pen stands frozen on the notebook pages, leaving a big, dark, useless well of ink.

  Logan sits down on the couch with a book and his coffee. He doesn’t look up at Roman. Roman stares at him, pleading, hoping that Logan will look up and meet his gaze, and maybe, just maybe, he can see how sorry Roman is and it will—something will be better.

  “Don’t stare at me, Roman, it’s rude.”

  Roman’s cheeks burn as he looks away. Logan didn’t move his eyes from the book once.

  He picks up the pen and watches it drip onto the page. The pages are wet, now, so much so that when he tries to pull them apart they stick together, the lines threatening to tear as he tries to separate them.

  He leaves them be.

  The next few hours are spent in a loop of trying to open his mouth to say something and only a soft rush of air escaping. He tries to hold it behind his hand and say please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so awful, I’ll be better, I promise, but the words won’t come. His tongue is taunting him, he decides, by pressing insistently up against the back of his teeth until he has to open his mouth only for it to refuse to produce words.

  He wants Logan to explain to him that talking works for him too. That the vocal chords and the muscles of the throat moving together build up pressure behind the larynx, which then chops up the stream of air to produce a steady oscillation for a sustained sound. He wants Logan to say it in that voice of his that makes it so everything makes sense so of course, Roman, you can speak, it’s okay. Everything is okay.

  But Logan would never say that, not to Roman, because Roman’s words aren’t worth Logan’s time.

  When Virgil comes downstairs, he tries. He really tries. He opens his mouth and everything and takes a deep breath and—

  Virgil marches straight over to Logan and sits down, his head on Logan’s shoulder and the two of them could not be paying any less attention to Roman.

  The wind gets knocked out of him. His mouth falters closed. He tries to open it away but his jaws are stiff and gummy, his teeth aching in his mouth as he tries to just talk. He just wants to say something, he just wants to apologize, he just waits to be sorry and have them all know he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but they won’t know because he doesn’t have words.

  The words he wants to say are queuing up at the back of his throat, weighing his mouth down and he wants to say them, but he—he—he can’t. He wants to tell Virgil that he’s sorry he’s been the worst friend ever, that he’s sorry he’s so awful to their famILY, that he’ll go away and leave them all alone if that’s what they want but he can’t say a damn word of it out loud and he’s going to cry.

  But he can’t because crying isn’t words and the only thing the others want from him is words.

  If Virgil notices him trying, which he probably doesn’t, he’s kind enough not to say anything.

  Roman is terrified when Remus comes.

  Because Remus is loud and loves nothing more than to make Roman’s life harder. If Remus knew he was nonverbal right now, his best bet would be to leave as quickly as possible because he—

  Wait, no.

  If Roman wanted it to be best for him, he would leave as fast as possible. But Roman doesn’t know anything anymore so he doesn’t move.

  Remus, as it turns out, doesn’t care about Roman—which, why would he?—and instead flops proudly onto the floor and begins to talk animatedly with Logan about something.

  Roman wants to say sorry. Sorry that he’s never done anything right when it comes to Remus, sorry that he thinks being compared to him is the worst thing possible, sorry that he’s Roman and Remus is stuck with him.

  But his tongue is lifeless.

  So he is quiet, flipping aimlessly through his notebook, looking for something to give his words back.

  Was he selfish yesterday? Did he use all of them up on something no one would ever see? No, no, that’s not how it works, he just—he knows he should be able to talk, maybe if he just waits a little longer, his words will come back.

  But then Janus appears.

  And Roman needs to be able to talk now.

  Because he needs to tell Janus that he’s sorry. That he messed everything up and he’s awful and he knows it and he’s so, so, so sorry. And he needs to know that it isn’t a lie, that Roman is genuinely sorry and he just needs to speak, if he could just open his mouth and say something and say that he’s sorry and—and—

  Janus stops and looks right at him.

  Roman’s breath catches in his throat.

  Janus’s eyes narrow.

  Please, please, I’m sorry, let me say I’m sorry, I can’t speak, I want to speak, let me speak—

  Janus’s face cools into stone and he deliberately turns away.

  Roman wants to scream.

  He scrambles away from the living room and his hands fly to his hair, squeezing, pulling, trying to rip the sound from his throat because it won’t come otherwise. Trying to reach deep inside and find something, some word, some sound, some thing just to make it so he can talk, say he’s sorry, say anything.

  The computer screen blinks mockingly at him. Come on, it taunts, where was this agony when you were pouring your words out onto me yesterday? Why do you ache so badly now when you know you can’t do anything about it? Is it worth it?

  Nothing will ever be worth this. To have them there, right in front of him, and not be able to tell them how sorry he is.

  A silent scream is the best he can do.

  It doesn’t stop. His tongue doesn’t flicker back to life. Even after two days, three days, four, he still can’t manage to speak. He can’t manage to open his mouth and make a single word come out. He tries. He sits down in front of the computer and glares at the screen, forcing his mouth to make the shapes and forcing his vocal chords to make the sounds.

  He never gets further than a single word.

  He rushes, slurs, cheats in any way he can, and doesn’t even manage to get to the end of a sentence.

  He’s panting, in tears, trying, trying, trying so hard to say something, anything, because if he can say one thing, he can say more, and if he can say more, he can tell them how sorry he is.

  Roman would gladly give up all the words he doesn’t have to be able to say ‘sorry’ again.

  (Logan, downstairs, glances up from his book.

  Virgil is sprawled next to him on the couch, his head resting against Logan’s thigh. Patton is sitting on the other end, Virgil’s legs in his lap as he talks to Janus. Janus sits in the chair, his own book forgotten on his lap. Well, almost forgotten as he tugs it out of Remus’s grasp as he makes…something on the floor.

  “It’s been quiet recently,” he remarks to himself, “almost…peaceful.”

  Virgil shifts. “Yeah, I know. I kinda like it.”

  “So do I.” He glances down and, after a moment of hesitation, slides his hand into Virgil’s hair. “Is this alright?”

  “Yeah, L, that’s fine.”

  “Aww, you two are cute.” Patton grins at them. “It’s been nice lately, hasn’t it?”

  “Mm.” Janus tugs the book out of Remus’s reach again. “Remus, I certainly understand what you want with my book.”

  “Art, Janny.”

  Janus rolls his eyes fondly but his gaze softens as he takes in the room. It has been quiet. A good kind of quiet.

  He doesn’t know it didn’t happen on purpose.

  That Roman isn’t being quiet on purpose.

  He didn’t do it on purpose.

  Because when has anything Roman’s done on purpose been right?)

——————————————

Thomas sighs, his hands on his hips, as Patton and Logan begin to bicker for the third time in the past ten minutes. Across from him, Virgil is fidgeting uncomfortably as his gaze flicks back and forth between Janus and Thomas.

  “Guys, are you really not going to do anything about this?”

  “Oh, yes, because that’s how we solve every problem, just make me deal with it.”

  “Okay, first of all, I said you guys meaning you and Thomas, second—“

  “Oh, here we go, another lecture, oh goodie.”

  “That is not what I’m doing—“

  And now Virgil and Janus are fighting too. Thomas resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. Barely. Just barely. He shakes his head. The Sides aren’t normally this hard to manage, typically it’s just a matter of everyone actually understanding what’s going on and then one of them will propose a solution and they’ll all wrangle it around from angle to angle until he finally gets a workable one.

  Not this time.

  He’s not sure why nothing’s working, but everything that’s been proposed just sounds like another problem, not a solution. Why coming up with ideas is so hard today, he doesn’t—

  Wait.

  Has…has Roman said anything today?

  Thomas glances at Roman. Roman stands where he always does, watching the others with a strangely blank look on his face. Thomas frowns. Roman…Roman doesn’t look great. He looks paler than usual, his face is a little poofy.

  “Roman?”

  Roman looks at him, his brow quirked.

  “Do you…have any ideas?”

  Roman’s face falls and he swallows. Thomas’s frown deepens when Roman shakes his head sadly.

  “Hey, wait,” Virgil says, turning to face him, “Thomas is right. You haven’t said anything all meeting.”

  “You have been remarkably quiet. Especially for you.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “Have you not come up with a single idea?”

  “Okay, guys, wait—“ Thomas tries.

  “No wonder we aren’t making any progress,” Virgil cries, throwing up his hands, “it’s because the guy whose job it is to come up with ideas isn’t doing anything!”

  “That…would explain it.”

  “Come on, kiddo,” Patton says, looking at Roman, “you must have something.”

  Roman just shakes his head again.

  “Of course he doesn’t want to share it with us,” Virgil growls, “he’s probably waiting for us to figure it out for him because he’s still mad.”

  Patton sighs, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips. Even Thomas wants to flush from the disappointment in his voice. “I understand being mad at us, kiddo—I’m not happy about it, but I understand it—but taking it out on Thomas? That’s really selfish of you.”

  Roman flinches, his hand going to his chest. Janus rolls his eyes.

  “Oh, Roman doesn’t know what that word means, remember? He’s all about selflessness, not selfishness, no, not a single selfish bone in his body, Roman.”

  Virgil snorts.

  “I am also disappointed,” Logan sighs, “but not surprised. But seriously, Roman, I think this temper tantrum of yours has gone on long enough.”

  “Watch out, he’s gonna say it’s not a temper tantrum.”

  Is…is this how they are to Roman all the time? Thomas stares at the other Sides in confusion. Has he just never noticed how mean they are to each other before? Or is this…new? He looks back at Roman and opens his mouth to say something when he notices Roman’s hand is still on his chest.

  And…moving.

  His thumb is tucked against the top of his fist and Thomas watches as it circles once, twice, and stops. Once, twice, and stops.

  “Roman,” he says softly, cutting through the growing voices of the others, “Roman, why are you sorry?”

  “What?”

  “Thomas, what’re you—“

  “That—this—“ Thomas makes the sign himself—“that’s the ASL for ‘sorry.’ Remember?”

  Logan looks back at Roman who does it again. “So it is. But—Roman, why are you communicating using ASL, which none of us are fluent in? Most of us aren’t fluent in, my apologies, Janus—“ Janus waves him off— “why not just say that you’re sorry?”

  “Roman,” Thomas asks, still quiet, “can you speak?”

  They all watch in silence as Roman slowly shakes his head.

  “What do you mean you can’t speak?”

  “Probably just that, Virgil.” Logan adjusts his glasses.

  Thomas spares him a glance before refocusing on Roman. “Are you okay, buddy?”

  Roman looks at the ground. Virgil watches him for a moment before leaning to Logan.

  “I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no.’”

  “How long has this been happening?”

  “Yes or no questions, guys,” Thomas reminds, “and…not too many.”

  “Right.” Logan takes a breath and when he speaks again, Thomas furrows his brow at how much softer Logan sounds. “Roman, has this been happening since the beginning of the meeting?”

  Roman nods.

  “Has it been happening for longer?”

  Another nod.

  “How long,” Virgil asks warily, only for Logan to hiss ‘yes or no’ in his ear, “right, um…has it been happening for longer than a day?”

  Roman nods, studiously avoiding eye contact. Janus bites back a curse.

  “Roman, have you not been able to speak since the wedding?”

  When Roman nods again, Thomas has to bite back a curse of his own. Virgil doesn’t.

  “Fuck, Princey, why didn’t you tell one of us?”

  “With what words,” Janus spits, “and who’s to say we would’ve believed him?”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Patton murmurs, reaching for him, “I’m so sorry.”

  At this, Roman shakes his head furiously.

  “Hey, hey, easy, Princey, it’s okay, what was that for?”

  “He seemed to really dislike the idea of Patton apologizing…”

  “What were you apologizing for, Roman,” Thomas asks instead, “before we—before?”

  Roman nods.

  “Yeah, bud, you were apologizing, do you remember what for?”

  A nod.

  “He’s saying ‘yes,’” Virgil murmurs.

  “Yeah, we got that.”

  “No, I mean—“ Virgil sighs— “you asked him what he was apologizing for and he’s saying ‘yes.’ That means anything you could ask him if he’s apologizing for, he’d say yes.”

  “So…” Logan looks back and forth between them. “He’s apologizing for…everything?”

  “Yeah.”

  And Roman nods.

“Oh, sweetie,” Janus says softly and whoa, that’s…unexpected, “you don’t need to do that.”

  Roman’s mouth hardens stubbornly as if to say yes I do.

  “You can’t be blamed for not being able to speak, Roman,” Logan says gently, “it’s not your fault.”

  “Kiddo,” Patton calls when Roman still looks unsure, “are you mad at us?”

  Roman’s head snaps up and he shakes his head frantically. Patton holds out his arms to soothe him.

  “And we’re not mad at you, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Let’s call it here,” Thomas says, giving Roman a nod, “we can figure this out later.”

  “What do you need, Roman,” Virgil asks, “how can we help?”

  “That’s…definitely not a yes or no question.”

  Thomas frowns. Then he reaches out a hand.

  “Hey!” Remus pops up, manic grin and all. “What’s shakin’, bacon?”

  “I do not think bacon shakes, Remus.”

  “Sir Francis Bacon?”

  “What?”

  “You two gotta stop watching Phineas and Ferb,” Virgil mutters.

  Remus just grins and turns, freezing when he sees Roman. Thomas blinks and Remus’s entire demeanor changes.

  “Ro-Bro? Roro, you okay?”

  Roman looks up at him. Remus lays a hand on his shoulder.

  “You nonverbal?”

  Roman nods. Remus wraps his arms around Roman’s waist.

  “I’m taking this,” he announces, “bye!”

  Thomas chuckles as Remus sinks out, Roman in tow, even as Patton and Virgil rush after them going ‘let us help!’ Logan just rolls his eyes fondly and follows them. Thomas catches hold of Janus’s cloak before he can leave too.

  “Are you guys always like that to Roman?”

  Janus gives him a strange look. “You mean are you always like that to Roman?”

  “What?”

  “We’re you, Thomas,” Janus says bluntly, “we’re the physical manifestation of what goes on in your head. Or have you forgotten that your main way of problem-solving is to summon metaphysical color-coded versions of yourself and talk to them?”

  “Your point?”

  “The way we act is how you see us. We behave how our respective parts of you behave.” Janus gives him a look. “If you think we’re being mean to Roman, what does that say about how you feel about your Ego or your Creativity?”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

  “Take better care of yourself,” Janus says, softer now, “and it might surprise you.”

  “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “I think,” Janus says, looking far too smug as he pulls away, “you mean that you can’t help yourself.”

  Thomas scoffs as Janus disappears but after a few seconds, his words start to make sense. He turns to grab his laptop and opens it, finding a blank document and watching the cursor blink.

  The others might not be able to listen to Roman, but he always can.

  “Alright,” he mutters to himself, “let’s see what Roman’s got to say.”

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[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hello, first of all, I love your work and I am so thankful that you literally keep this ship over water (lol). I would like to ask if you could write a fic where Sirius and James are enemies and Sirius then tries to seduce James (for whatever reason, maybe he tries to get something?), but falls in love on the way. When James finds out he's obviously angry, so bit of angst. I leave it up to you, but I would like a happy ending!

((A/N: Most of this fic is dealing with the fallout of James finding out, not the build-up to it, just fyi. This is a vague historical AU, where they're both lords at court or somthing. Bit of a warning for starting a relationship under false pretenses.))

Sirius didn't start his day with it in mind. He didn't sit alone in his room and come up with a scheme for how he could achieve his goal.

He was going about his day as normal, and when him and Potter traded insults, he ended it by whispering in his ear. Sirius didn't get close to people. Physically, he didn't get close. He liked his space. He didn't want people to touch him. Potter knew this, so he knew that it was out of the ordinary when Sirius leaned in and put his mouth by his ear.

He did it to throw Potter off. He didn't have any intention behind it other than that. He left him behind with a smirk and called it a victory. He thought that would be the end of it.

The next time he saw Potter, he was looking at Sirius warily, like he expected for something else to happen.

Looking back, Sirius had no excuse for it, other than that he thought it was amusing. It didn't take long after that for Sirius to fall head first. He knew that it was a mistake while it was happening, but he didn't do a damn thing to stop it.

*

"What the hell is this?" James asked.

Sirius blinked, closed the door, then squinted to try and make out what James was holding. Paper, obviously. Maybe they were letters? But there was a black seal on some of the envelopes on the desk behind him, and the only people that used black wax-

He stopped cold, all the blood draining from his face and leaving him ghostly pale. The only people that used black wax was in his family. Sirius thought he'd burned those letters when he couldn't find them later, but evidently, that had been a failing of his searching skills. He swallowed thickly. "It's not what it looks like."

James looked down at one of the unfolded letters in his hands and started to read. "'Sirius, good work on keeping the Potter heir distracted. Do whatever you need to to ensure he doesn't learn of-'"

"I know what it says," Sirius interrupted, his fear making him rude. "It's not true."

"Have your lies always been so transparent? You've been making a fool of me for months, and these letters are the proof."

"James, I swear it's not what it looks like," Sirius pleaded. "I know that it seems unbelievable, but if you would let me explain, I swear you'll understand."

James looked at him, expression unreadable. Then he said, "Fine. Explain."

Sirius opened his mouth, and nothing came out. He didn't know what to say. All he'd had in mind was that he couldn't let James walk out of here, because if he did, it would be for good. "I- okay, when it started, it was- I didn't know you. You were an enemy of my family and I didn't think about it, but-"

"So when you said that this wasn't what I thought, what you meant was that it's exactly what I thought," James interrupted, voice hard.

"It started out that way, but I fell in love with you."

Silence.

He hadn't said it to James before. It wasn't really something that was said in their family. It was supposed to be implicit. He was pretty sure that James knew how he felt, but he'd never said it to him until now. His heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest, nerves making him jittery. He already regretted saying it, sure that something horrible was about to happen, simply because he'd said it. "Ever since this stopped being casual, I haven't... I haven't been manipulating you this entire time. In the beginning, yes, I- I had ulterior motives, but it's not like that anymore."

James kept looking at him, expression unchanging. "That's it?" he asked eventually.

"What do you mean?"

"That's your entire explanation? That the letters are all correct except for the ones you've gotten in the last month?"

"Well..." Yes, honestly. That's all he had in his defense. "It's been more like a month and a half."

James tossed the letters behind him carelessly, allowing some of the letters to fall to the floor as he got to his feet. "How marvelous of you to correct me," he said flatly. "Instead of five months of you pretending, it was only four and a half." His throat worked, but it was several seconds before he said anything. "Consider your work done. I'll be leaving the capitol in three days."

"What?" Sirius said numbly. Surely he'd misheard. "What did you say?"

"I'll be leaving. I will no longer be in a position to hinder your family's plans. You can pretend we never met."

There was a ringing in his ears, but he knew that he'd heard every word precisely as James said it. "In three days? No, it will take you more time than that to make the preparations."

"My staff was instructed to prepare two days ago. Rest assured, I will be gone when I say." James started to brush by him for the door, but he stopped when Sirius clamped a hand around his upper arm so they were standing right beside each other.

"Two days ago?" Sirius repeated. He hadn't known about the letters then. He'd had no reason to suspect that there had ever been anything amiss in their relationship, and yet he'd still made the decision. "You told me you loved me," he said, voice wobbling as tears sprang to his eyes. Before he'd had reason to doubt Sirius, he'd still been planning to leave him.

"Don't- for fuck's sake, don't do that," James said, sounding upset for the first time since Sirius had walked into the room. Before had been a cold anger, but he'd been in perfect control-- like a mask. This was real, and Sirius knew how to talk to James when it was real. "You played me perfectly, I admit it. You don't have to rub it in like this."

"I'm not rubbing it in!" Sirius screamed, turning to face him instead of letting their shoulders go in a straight line across. "You told me you loved me, but now you admit that you were going to leave me? After promising to always be by my side? You made these plans before you found out. I lied to you, and I tricked you, and yes, it was horrible of me but I thought you were my enemy and I acted in accordance with that. You spoke of love and still ended it in betrayal."

"I did not," James snarled, whirling to face him in kind.

James had never been angry with him before, and he relished in it. If this was to be the end, he would have it be memorable.

"You were supposed to come with me. I came here to ask you to come to my home with me, and instead I found that," he said with a violent gesture to the desk.

"What?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," he said dismissively. He made to leave, but Sirius grabbed hold of him desperately.

"It matters to me."

"I don't care about that anymore, either. I don't have to tell you anything. I don't owe you an explanation. I'm going to leave and then- I won't see you ever again."

"That's not what you want," Sirius said. Then, anxiously, "Is it? I mean, we-" deep breath, don't puke "-we love each other. You can't throw that away."

James took in a shaking breath, sounding as if he were about to cry, though his face didn't look the part to match. "I don't trust you anymore."

Sirius flinched, hand jerking away from James.

"It doesn't matter that I love you as if nothing's happened, because I wouldn't be able to trust you."

This time, when he tried to leave, Sirius didn't stop him.

*

Sirius knew that if this didn't work, he'd be completely humiliated. A Black did not get on their knees and beg, but that's exactly what he did.

"Don't leave me," he pleaded, looking up at James.

James's eyes were wide in shock as he looked down, and his mouth was agape. Clearly, he hadn't expected for Sirius to do something like this.

"What do I need to do for you to forgive me?" Sirius asked, and he was sure he sounded as desperate as he felt. "I will do anything."

"You-" James stopped, eyes darting around. People were staring. "Get up," he hissed.

"I will stay down here for as long as I need to prove to you that I'm serious about this and about you."

"Fine, you've proved you're serious about this, not get up."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure he believed him. The choice was taken from him when James reached down and drug him to his feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked in an undertone.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," Sirius said honestly. It made him feel a little jittery, but not half as much as saying the word 'love' had. Besides, James already knew that he was the best hing to happen to him. He'd known that from the first time they spent the night together, even though Sirius had still been trying to manipulate the situation to his family's benefit back then. "I will do whatever it takes to make sure you don't slip out of my life." He swallowed thickly, worried that, despite his best efforts, this wouldn't work. "I mean it, James. Whatever it takes. Tell me what to do, and I'll do it. Whatever you want me to do, name it and it's yours. Give me a chance, and I'll be able to prove that I'm capable of regaining your trust."

James wanted to believe him; Sirius could see it in his eyes. He wanted to accept, but Sirius didn't know what else to say to make him believe that he was being sincere. He had nothing else to add. He'd told James everything that he'd meant to.

"Please," he whispered. It couldn't make the situation worse, but he didn't really expect for it to do anything. After all, it was just one word, and it was one that he'd ignored plenty of times when someone said it to him.

But James caved. Not much, but it was enough. A little dent. His defenses had the slightest crack, and he was letting Sirius through. "You'd have to come home with me. I can't cancel my plans; I already wrote home and said that I'd be-"

"That's fine," Sirius said, pairing it with a weak smile-- weak, because he didn't know how happy James would be if he started grinning like a loon. "I'd be happy to go with you. You don't need to change a thing for me."

*

"I need to know one thing," James said. It was late, and Sirius had been half-asleep when he answered the door.

"Mhm?"

"When we started talking about the future, did you mean it?"

Sirius had avoided all questions about what they were and how long they'd be doing it when he hadn't cared about James. It was only after he'd fallen for him that they'd talked. He didn't need a single second to think it over before answering, "Yes. Every word."

"You don't make this easy, you know that?"

"I thought me caring would make this easier."

"Well." James cracked a smile. "It does. It's easier than if you didn't care about me, and I know I prefer it this way."

"I do too," Sirius said, rubbing at one of his eyes. "But like, it's late, and I'm tired, so can we finish talking about this in the morning?"

"I don't think we need to talk about anything else." He hesitated, then asked, "Can I stay with you tonight? Just sleeping, I promise."

Sirius nodded, a bit too enthusiastically.

James didn't say anything about his overly happy reaction, but his smile widened knowingly.

Once they settled in, he pressed a kiss to Sirius's hair. "I love you."

“You too,” Sirius said, because it was easier to say, but he did mean it.

[go-ldy]

Riverdale 5x03

Man, I found this episode hard. There were some poignant moments, but there were also a lot of moments that were frustrating as hell. My emotions are mixed. But mainly sad. Hold me.

It really says a lot about this show that despite setting aside a whole episode dedicated mostly to character building and relationships rather than plot, it still felt like the show bit off more than it could chew. So much felt rushed including Bughead’s breakup.

anyway, the positives first:

Varchie were beautiful in this episode, and I am so happy for my Varchie mutuals for the care put into developing them and giving them this kind of send off (esp. considering the mess of 4x17 and 4x18). I loved how Archie’s flashback of his life over the last three years was just 90% about Veronica and how much she means to him. It especially contrasts to the BA “flashbacks” from 4x17 l o l. 

Archie spontaneously deciding to join the army and shipping out on an actual bus 24 hours later was so Archie and so Riverdale.  “Archie, there’s a war going on!” made me laugh out loud, IDK. 

Veronica, Betty, and Jughead chasing Archie down in the jalopy to say goodbye was a sheer delight.

Betty Cooper: FBI trainee, default law enforcement officer, yearbook editor, serial killer genes, daughter of the black hood, sister of notorious killer Charles Smith - ALSO class Valedictorian! (Can u still be class Valedictorian if you were once suspended for cheating on a Quiz Show? Riverdale High says ‘yes.’) Good for u, B. Coop.

yessssss at Hiram Lodge being forced to put Sheriff Keller back into a job to arrest those kids hiding out at Archie’s boxing studio (and Archie didn’t notice that these youth were squatting there for months ?????? lmao). I KNEW RIVERDALE DID NOT HAVE A SHERIFF THESE LAST FEW EPISODES. Truly the lawless hellhole we have come to know and love.

Jughead staying in the Andrews’ home while it was put on the market to be sold was hilarious to me. I know it was supposed to be sad - and it was - but ALSO, can you imagine perspective buyers coming into the house only to find that there is a homeless person camping out in there without furniture or electricity or heat? “Why is there a rolled up sleeping bag in the corner?” “Is that a typewriter on the floor?” “Did I just step into an old can of soup?” JUGHEAD, MAN. They probably had to turn off the electricity and heat to save money because he was single-handedly keeping the house from selling.

It was very sad that Jughead was the only one who showed up at Pop’s a year later (and then sees a blonde girl come in and immediately his eyes light up because Betty before the disappointment o m g, murder me), but also a surprisingly relatable moment? I barely remember my own high school graduation, but I do remember that my high school friends felt like everything to me at the time, and I have since fallen out of touch with, uh, all of them. Life happens.

The stuff that was meh:

In theory, I am not opposed to the idea that Jellybean became the auteur/voyeur because she felt neglected and wanted attention, but it still feels like Jellybean is only about 25% of a character. Like, we heard a lot of other people (mostly FP and Jughead) tell us about JB’s motivations, but did JB have a single speaking line in this episode where she actually got to express to anyone what she was thinking and feeling? ugh. 

I don’t care about Falice, but ????? @ FP’s solution to fix JB. So... taking her back... to her drug dealing mother who did not even show up for her own son’s funeral.... is better than a child therapist? Fine. 

Nobody seemed to have any lingering reactions or trauma to Charles being a serial killer?? Like what. Is he even in jail? Or did Betty just let him go? This is actually quite inconvenient for me from a fic-writing perspective. Nobody is a better deux ex machina when Betty or Jughead need something in fic - just call their brother Charles who works for the FBI! I guess that’s done now.

I did feel for Alice, and Alice is not a character I usually feel for because she is the worst. But her husband and eldest son ended up being serial killers, Polly is in an insane asylum, the twins have disappeared from planet earth, and now FP is leaving her. Damn. That is a lot.

So did Choni breakup? It literally happened so fast with so little emotional fallout. Whatever, I don’t care about Choni.

The Beronica and Jarchie scenes were so rushed and forced. I just don’t get this storyline, y’all. What was the point of doing what they did with Betty and Archie in 4x17 and 4x18? Was it simply to break up our two main couples? Veronica and Jughead should have each had the time and space to be angry with their BFFs over what happened (because as crazy as this town is, it is still a massive betrayal) but instead they were both like: “NAH IT’S COOL SHIT HAPPENS LET’S HUG IT OUT.” It didn’t feel earned. I feel like RAS & Co. wanted the immediate drama of the ~kiss but also wanted to have this touching, Core 4 friendship moment before scattering them. What was the point. (I KNOW, I KNOW, ‘IT’S RIVERDALE’ but these characters matter to me ok and I want to understand where they are coming from.)

Bughead

This episode was... very hard. There were some cute moments, but the breakup felt so rushed and... empty? For the most part, we still have no idea where Betty’s head has been since 4x18. Presumably, she has been wracked by guilt, but terrified of telling Jughead the truth in case she ended up losing him (which, it turned out, was exactly what happened).

The scene in their bedroom where she tells him and they kiss desperately was a beautiful scene and the acting from both was oof. But I feel cheated that we did not actually get to see them talk about “us” as Jughead suggested. So did that conversation happen or not? And then to be told in a voiceover and montage that they grew apart in the space of about 45 seconds.... it was all very empty, and painful. I just.... :( :( :( 

I guess we are supposed to assume that Betty and Archie’s kiss created this chasm between them that they were unable to talk about or address head on. But it was so rushed, very “tell not show.”

anyway, this stupid show has made me sad. I AM SAD. My heart is :( @ the unspoken hurt between them that they won’t talk about for seven years. And this show is never going to address the hurt between them in a realistic or satisfying way because it is Riverdale. Usually I would immediately reach to fic to get out my feelings, but in this case, I feel more like hiding in my zombie AU then dealing with how sad this all is lol. Is that insane? That’s what Riverdale does to us. I take heart in the fact that I am not alone in my madness.

[blitzturtles]

Title: Night Off

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: DC Comics

Pairing(s): JayDick

Summary: “If you’re not here to kill me, then get out!” Dick calls without moving. He should probably double check as to who his intruder is, but the idea of moving is somehow more unappealing than the idea of one of his enemies actually managing to break into his apartment. He’ll take the risk of potential kidnapping if it means that they’ll do most of the bodily lifting for him.

Notes: I was having a chronic pain flare, asked my wife who I should inflict it on, and her answer was, “Jotaro and/or Dick Grayson”. So here’s the Dick Grayson version. Btw, I’m doing a writing / fic giveaway! Check out this post to see how to enter. Goes until 8.25.21!

-

It’s extremely rare for Dick to pull out of a planned patrol, but there are nights when he can’t handle the thought, much less actually suit up and venture out into Gotham. Tonight is one of those nights. Old injuries are rearing their ugly head, making themselves too known to be ignored, and he knows that going out will be a mistake. He’s more likely to cause trouble than he is to prevent it, and he’s not about to cut into someone else’s patrol just to have someone come to his rescue. That’s time that could be better spent, and he hates the idea of anyone knowing the degree of pain he’s dealing with. To know that it cripples him to the point where walking is a slow, agonizing process. It feels like a weakness that he’s not prepared to share.

Bruce has chronic pain. That’s something Dick’s known for years. Possibly since he was a child, but the man never seems to be stopped or even slowed down by it. He’s never missed a patrol. Never needed someone to fish him out of a bad situation brought on by his knee completely giving out on him (not that Dick admitted to that being the problem; he’d lied and claimed it had been freshly injured.) It’s frustrating to watch, and it sets a precedent that Dick can’t keep up with. It makes him feel pathetic on nights like these, and it’s all he can do to try to distract himself with crappy television. Up until the moment when something crashes into his apartment through his-- previously locked-- window.

“If you’re not here to kill me, then get out!” Dick calls without moving. He should probably double check as to who his intruder is, but the idea of moving is somehow more unappealing than the idea of one of his enemies actually managing to break into his apartment. He’ll take the risk of potential kidnapping if it means that they’ll do most of the bodily lifting for him.

Sure enough, Jason shows up in the doorway of his living room a moment later with his helmet at his side, but his cowl still fixed in place. “You’re not dressed,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and it makes Dick’s eyebrows climb up toward his hairline.

“Are you my babysitter now?”

“No,” Jason snarls, “I’m not fucking Bruce.”

“Alright then,” Dick shrugs and tries to leave it at that. The keyword being ‘try’, because Jason never could leave well enough alone.

“Why aren’t you out?”

“Changed my mind. Am I not allowed to do that?” Shit. He sounds unnecessarily snappish. More so aloud than he does in his own head, which he knows is the pain getting the better of him, but that doesn’t mean he wants it to reflect in his tone. He heaves a sigh, “Sorry, just wasn’t up for it tonight, you know? Think I twisted my ankle a little last night, and I thought I would take a night. See if the swelling goes down.”

Jason frowns as he mulls over those words, but he doesn’t outright reject them. “Okay,” he starts, and Dick almost sighs in relief, if only internally, “So that was bullshit.”

Fuck.

“Jason-”

“We can do this all night, so you can keep lying to me, or you can just tell me what’s going on,” Jason’s gaze shifts from Dick to the rest of his apartment, undoubtedly looking for some kind of clue. Or possibly some sort of trouble. Neither of which he finds, because Dick’s too stubborn to ice his joints, and the compression wraps he has on are hidden by his clothes.

“I’m not kidding about my ankle,” Dick says after a moment of contemplating his word choice.

“You’re just lying about the cause,” Jason concludes after a moment. His head is cocked to the side, but it’s apparent that he’s fixated on the offending joint, “And it’s not the only thing bothering you.”

The problem with Jason is that he’s far more observant than most people give him credit for. And intelligent, for that matter. It’s easy to forget that Jason thinks Shakespeare is a fun read, and that he’ll spend hours debating the topic with Alfred, if given the chance (and Alfred is always willing). There’s also the fact that Jason tends to pick and choose when he’s going to press an issue; often because he intends to come back around to it, but only when the situation turns in his favor. But the favor here has always been Jason’s. Dick’s stuck on the couch of his apartment, unwilling to move unless absolutely necessary, because his knee will feel like it’s being torn in half if he does, and that’s to say nothing about either ankle.

“I don’t really want to talk about this, Jason,” Dick uses the name for emphasis this time. With a short, clipped tone that he hopes conveys just how badly he would like Jason to leave, but Jason’s also nothing if not obstinate.

“Have you tried ice yet? Or heat?”

The words startle Dick, and he looks to Jason with far too many emotions readable on his face. Jason merely raises an eyebrow in return, and Dick sighs, “No. I don’t think I can get up.”

“Oh,” Jason breathes the word, like he hadn’t expected the answer. And he probably hadn’t. He’d probably expected Dick to continue to deny reality. To lie through his teeth until Jason gave up (which wasn’t going to happen, but that’s beyond the point now.) “Okay. Got any ice in the freezer?”

“Yes- what?”

Jason’s gone in an instant, heading for the kitchen with little concern for Dick’s desire to be left alone. He comes back a minute later with several bags full of freshly scooped ice. He passes them to Dick, one at a time, while Dick slowly places them on various offending limbs.

There’s a dumbstruck expression on Dick’s face, as if he can’t fully process what’s happening, which might have to do with why he doesn’t stop it either. Jason disappears again, this time into the bathroom, and Dick just- let’s him. He’s not sure what else to do now that Jason’s set his mind to- whatever it is he’s set his mind to.

“Here,” Jason says when he comes back with a paper cup of water and a handful of pills. It takes Dick a moment to remember that, a. His first aid kit is in the bathroom just like most peoples’, and the leap for Jason figuring that out isn’t really a leap and b. That Jason’s come here for a (very rough) patch up job more than once, which means he already knows exactly where he can find said kit.

Dick swallows the painkillers with little prompting and passes the cup back to Jason, who must dispose of it in the trash, given that he disappears into the kitchen again. When he comes back, he looks at Dick with that sort of halfcocked, curious expression he gets.

“Anything else I can do?”

“Uh- no. I think you’ve done plenty,” and Dick means that. Jason’s done more for him than Dick would have done for himself, and the ice actually feels kind of nice on the throbbing joints. Combined with the compression, it’s the best relief he’s gotten all day. Maybe the medication will actually do something for a change.

“Good,” Jason says, and Dick assumes that’s the end of that. That he’ll go right back out the window that he came in, but, instead, Jason flops on the couch cushion nearest to him and nods at the long forgotten TV. “What’re we watching?”

“We?”

“Yeah,” Jason says without missing a beat, “I got nothing better to do, and distractions can help with pain. Trust me.”

And two things occur to Dick right then. The first being that Jason isn’t just doing this out of some obligation. He wants to help. Wants to make Dick feel better, and Dick doesn’t know what to do with that information. And the second is that Jason knows, on a very personal level, what it’s like to be in so much pain that his body doesn’t cooperate with him, and of course he does. Jason’s death had been far from pleasant, and he still wears the scars of it. There’s no doubt he feels it in his bones and damaged cartilage. Never mind all the other injuries since then, and there’s a long, long list that Dick’s personally seen the fallout of several times.

“I don’t know,” Dick says once his brain starts processing in the right direction again, “CSI?”

Jason snorts, “What, want to spend all night yelling at the screen?”

“Maybe,” Dick says with a shrug, “You got something better?”

“Hell yeah,” Jason reaches for the remote, and Dick passes it to him without question, “We’re gonna watch some good ole-fashioned zombies.”

And there goes Dick’s eyebrows again, “Really?”

“Sometimes a man just needs something a little autobiographical, quit judging,” and Jason says it with such a severe tone that Dick can’t help but laugh.

Truthfully, it’s the best he’s felt all night, and that doesn’t change once the movie-- however bad it may be-- starts. He catches Jason with a small, half-smile tugging at the corner of one side of his lips, and it helps Dick to relax a bit, to know that he isn’t being judged.

[yoonia]

Share Fun Facts about Your Fics!

↳ Tagged by @bonvoyagenoona & @kpopfanfictrash – thank you so much! This looks like so much fun and I love reading all your behind the scenes!

↳ Instructions: Maybe you’re proud of a line of dialogue. Maybe you were playing with story structure, and something unexpected happened. Maybe you gave a character an idiosyncrasy that’s based on a person you know. Or maybe you just like something for no reason at all. Inquiring minds wanna know.

↳ Tagging: @randombtsprincessa @softyoongiionly @avveh @yeoldontknow @kookdiaries @jungkxook @kookingtae @kittae @ladyartemesia @hobidreams @jamaisjoons @propinqxity​ @kithtaehyung​

Pick three of your fics and share a fun detail from each!

Wow, I really couldn’t decide which ones to talk about. But here we go:

↳ The Half-Lycan

It all started from one single drabble, and then have the character (werewolf Tae) haunting me during one NaNoWriMo period for me to return to it. Have I planned to have this one become a part of the Shifter Series/somehow connected to Blood Moon Rising? Never. But I was already working on Vampire Jimin while I was planning this one out and I must admit that I’ve had the universe all pictured inside my head before I even began writing this one. I can’t remember if anyone had pointed this out on Tumblr (which is understandable, since I posted this as a monster fic of a whooping 40k words so details might have been off lol), but I’ve had readers from Wattpad pointed a few things that I should clarify here too: 

Age difference: Taehyung was 14 yo when he met OC the first time, while she was 6 going on 7 yo. Which means that she was still a child when Taehyung reached the age of 18 yo, when he was finally able to recognise her as his mate. I had to add this little detail to make it a bit more sense why Taehyung had to leave when she was a teen and to line up the story with Blood Moon Rising

The main goal of this story (together with Of Bears & Bonds and the upcoming The Agile Fox) is to simply show that it’s possible for a shifter to have a mate from a different species, something that will be useful later on Blood Moon Rising

I had initially planned to give the rest of the supporting stories in Shifter Series original characters instead of reader insert. It was unfortunate that Fever came out 2 years before this prologue did and that one had already been written with a reader insert so I had to void the idea

7 yo OC was wearing a red coat and was carrying a basket filled with wild berries and mushrooms for her sick father when Taehyung found her in the woods. Yes, this scene was partly inspired by Red Riding Hood

The scene where adult OC woke up to find wolf Taehyung stuck in the hunter’s trap was a part of my original novel which I scrapped the year before cause I lost all motivation to finish it hahaha I’m glad that I could still use it in the end. And I’m quite happy to put this one in cause it shows the connection to their first meeting. 1) because they keep meeting while Tae is in his wolf form 2) they first met by having Taehyung getting her out of trouble, while it’s OC’s turn to help Taehyung in their reunion

↳ Show Me Something

Ever had a fic that you’ve worked on for like forever and then right before you managed to finish it, all inspiration and motivation to work on it suddenly vanished? That’s what happened to me with this one. This fic was supposed to be released June/July 2020, but we all know what happened since then :”)

I’m not sure if anyone has ever noticed this but there are a lot of metaphors in this story.

The way OC described “using” Jungkook as her anchor to keep her grounded in the tilted tower represents the fact that she had kept Jungkook in her mind through life despite their initial fallout 

The go-kart race and the way Jungkook kept catching up to her represent the same thing happening in real life, how now matter how much she had tried to move on, he’d always be there to remind her that he’s still present

The massage at the beach may have come out of nowhere. It did, actually, but it represents how each time they are alone, they still find the old connection between each other still going strong

There are also the constant competition going on between them and the ferris wheel ride that represents the way their life has been changing at the same time without them even knowing it

↳ Clair De Lune 

I love how it had seemed as if @meispace​ had created this moodboard specifically for me lmao 

The moment I was sent this moodboard for the colab at the time, I was instantly compelled to give this beautiful art some justice by creating something elaborate that could represent this moodboard the way it deserved. I also wanted to give this picture something unpredictable. Yoongi and his piano seemed to be a given as the main factor of the story, but I suppose nobody had truly expected to see an escort OC/reader as the female lead and I found myself loving this story more because of it. 

I never truly encountered any problem while finishing this story. I remember going right into it as soon as I got my assignment, if you will, and made up a whole story that I felt so pleased with in the end. Choosing the title was a different matter, but I think the song Clair De Lune was a fitting title to represent the pace of the story (how it had flowed smoothly at the beginning before it began to rise as it reached its climax) and it made it even more fitting as we came to the scene where Yoongi took OC in their romantic dance under the moonlight while revealing his song, “Moonlight”, to his muse. 

[punkpoemprose]

December 15th- A Convenient Arrangement Part 7

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 4309 Words A/N: Anna gets to let it all out. This is the Anna and Elsa conflict that I wish they could have included in the movies, because as wonderful and kind and forgiving as Anna is, everyone has a breaking point. I thought this was going to be 10 chapters. It’s looking closer to 13-15 I think, but we’ll see how much I can squeeze in going forward. I have 4 days to write 10 more fics, and I work two of them... and I have a zine yo put together...we’ll see how this goes!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

She’d woken in his arms when sunlight flooded through the cabin’s front windows, warming her face and informing her that it was time rise once again. She’d kept her eyes closed despite it, pretending that she was still asleep. She just wanted to listen to his breathing and the beating of his heart for a little longer. She just wanted to be close and know that his holding her so tight was purposeful because she knew that he was awake and was trying to not wake her.

I’m not a good person.

The thought was not self-deprecating so much as it was chiding as she laid in bed with him for another half hour at least, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her and trying not to flush when his hands would move across her back or tuck away a stray hair. It felt strange, but wonderful to be cared for.

She knew that she shouldn’t have pretended to be asleep, but she could never remember waking up and feeling quite so safe as she did in his arms. Moments of tenderness like that was not something she was used to and so she’d allowed herself to indulge in it, and he hadn’t commented even though she suspected that he knew after a short time that she was awake.

They’d had a light breakfast, and he’d helped her redress herself in the soft morning light. She thought that she may remember the deft way he’d adjusted her corset lacing for the rest of her life. He’d asked her if she’d needed help, and while she didn’t really, she’d consented because it was easier with help, and because she was curious about whether he could manage it with only her spoken instructions. She’d felt warm when he’d expertly tugged and tied, explaining sheepishly that he was used to ropework and that he hoped he hadn’t hurt her.

She knew now, after their night alone, that he’d never hurt her. At least not on purpose.

He’d never hurt her the way Hans had.

The quiet morning had continued on the wagon ride back to Arendelle. They hadn’t spoken of anything of consequence since the night before, occasionally breaking the silence with a comment about their surroundings or the weather, but otherwise enjoying the easy silence that no longer felt uncomfortable between them. They would have plenty of time to talk, but they both had seemed to enjoy the lack of questions and heavy conversations for a while.

The calm had ended after they reentered the castle gates, at least for her. She wasn’t certain about how things went for him because they’d been separated too quickly for her tastes.

He’d gone to care for Sven, not entrusting the sweet reindeer with a groom was something that Anna understood now. Sven was as much his family as the trolls were, as she hoped she was. Kristoff felt a duty to care for the creature himself.

Anna, however, had been quickly corralled into her sister’s office, where the day quickly became anything but quiet.

“What were you thinking?” Elsa said, her voice high and the anxiety not at all hidden.

Anna thought that the temperature in the room was maybe ten degrees lower than it was in the hallway just outside the closed door. Her chest felt tight at the realization, and her headache from the night before, when her memories had been returned to her seemed to resurge slightly, a dull hum of discomfort behind her eyes. She clenched her jaw and tried to focus on something else, the wall, the window, anything but her angry sister.

“I left you a note,” she said after a moment’s thought, “I was thinking I was spending some time with my husband.”

Elsa wasn’t calmed by this though. She shook her head and scoffed, giving Anna a look of annoyance, or maybe disappointment that burned through her, like she was being given a forcible internal frost burn from the coolness, even as she tried to look away from it.

“Did you not learn anything from Hans?”

Her hands balled into fists at her side. It wasn’t a question. It was an attack. This wasn’t a meeting, it was an interrogation.

And Anna wasn’t going to back down from it.

“Have you learned anything about what happens when you try to control my life?”

It was a snipe, but she wasn’t about to let Elsa judge her, Queen or not, for trying to get to know the husband that she had forced her into marrying. Elsa had all the power in deciding how they were to handle the fallout after everything with Hans, and instead of trying to find another way to calm the populace, she’d consented to a royal wedding. She’d asked Anna if she was comfortable with it as an afterthought, after the wheels were already in motion, and while she’d seemingly felt bad about the whole thing, it still wasn’t lost on Anna that her sister had once told her that she couldn’t marry someone she just met, and then all but forced her to do the very same.

“Or do you get to blindly pass judgement because you have a crown now?”

Anna saw the ice forming on the windowpanes behind her sister’s desk. The summer scene of gardens and green grass behind her suddenly covered with thick ice marring the sightline. Anna had been looking out to the stables out of the corner of her eye, taking comfort in knowing that Kristoff wasn’t far off. It probably wasn’t a good sign that she felt more comfortable with him than her own sister already. Really though, despite being a stranger, he was giving her a chance to know him. Elsa hadn’t afforded her the same chance, making her all the more the stranger.

“This isn’t about me,” Elsa hissed, “This is about your reckless behavior. You should have taken a guard with you. He could have…”

He could have killed you.

She might have entertained the thought before the trip. In fact, she had, but as reckless as it may have seemed to others to trust him, she knew that she had nothing to fear from him. He’d never meant her harm of any kind, not from the very start.

He wasn’t a man of manners or class or breeding. He was a simple ice harvester, and he’d helped her stand strong at their wedding, he’d not forced himself on her on their wedding night, he’d given her so much of himself, and he’d been nothing but gentle with her.

It wasn’t a long play. It was a kindness. It was something like love.

She thinks he could have killed me.

It was laughable, but she wasn’t laughing. She was raging inside, her heart pounding, and her head aching from the tension in her jaw.

“You could have!” Anna shouted in return, “And I should thank you by the way for your restraint, given that I just recently found out that you apparently almost killed me once before too. Why didn’t you tell me before Elsa? Was it just one more thing you didn’t think I could handle?”

Elsa’s brow furrowed, the fire was still in her eyes, but it was mixed with confusion.

“I take it a troll visited you last night to let you know where I was. Well, I had a lovely time with them, and apparently, I knew about you and the ice and everything until I was five and mother and father had them take the memories from me. I understand why, but what I don’t understand is why you never told me. You knew Elsa, and you never told me about it, or about what you could do. The person who put me in the most danger here is you!”

The room continued to cool, the ice on the windows grew thicker and Anna could see from the angry set of her sister’s jaw that she had struck a nerve.

“So yes, I took a chance to leave and spend some time with my husband. Last I checked I’m not a prisoner, and neither is Kristoff so we decided to leave, you know, enjoy life outside of these walls for a little bit given I haven’t been outside them in thirteen years. Maybe if you were that concerned about him I don’t know, potentially wanting to kill me, you wouldn’t have let the council force a wedding.”

“That’s enough!”

Anna saw the flakes in the air. She knew her sister was at her breaking point, but she couldn’t help but keep pushing. Elsa had gone straight for her most vulnerable point as soon as she’d entered her office, and Anna wasn’t going to take it without dishing it back out.

“Is it?”

She stomped across the wooden floor that was quickly accumulating ice and snow from her sister’s inability to hold on, getting into her face. It was probably a bad idea, but she couldn’t help it. She’d rather get it all out now than keep holding it in. She wasn’t going to spend the next thirteen years of her life knocking on her sister’s door begging for her attention, she was going to take it whether Elsa liked it or not.

“Because I don’t think it is. I don’t think this is enough, because I’ve got news for you. You’re talking to me like I’m a child, and I’m not. I know because I spent every day of my childhood watching days and months and years pass alone, wanting nothing more than someone to spend the time with. I might have made a mistake, but right now the score isn’t anywhere near even Elsa, and I’m not going to take this from you. Kristoff isn’t Hans and if you compare them one more time so help me…”

It happened in a flash, the room went from icy cold, snowy, crusted with ice, to bright white, and then, back to normal.

Elsa fell apart, crumbling as she started crying, in front of Anna.

I’m a horrible sister.

No. This was necessary.

It hurts to hurt someone you love.

She shouldn’t have pushed so hard, was her first thought. Then, shortly after, as she lowered herself to the floor and wrapped her arms around her crying sister, the ice Queen of Arendelle that she’d reduced to tears, she realized that it needed to happen. Even if it hurt them both, she needed to let it out. If she hadn’t it would have eaten her alive.

“It’s okay,” she said, letting her sister cry into her shoulder for the second time in as many weeks.

“I’m not angry anymore, I just needed to get it out,” she said, holding her tight as Elsa started to shake in her arms, hyperventilating as she cried.

“I’ve been so mad for so long, and it took getting my memories back to figure out why… Elsa I know that it wasn’t your choice when we were kids, but I’ve been alone almost my whole life and Kristoff…”

“I’m so sorry.”

It was a wet, nervous sound when she spoke, filling the space as Anna searched for the words to describe exactly how she felt about her husband. It surprised Anna to hear her sister apologize, assuming that she’d want her to leave as soon as she found a voice to tell her to get out. It was what she’d come to expect of Elsa, even when she was being contrite, that she never wanted Anna to stay with her for very long.

“I knew you were lonely. I knew you needed me, but I was too afraid of myself to let you in. If I’d just talked to you more… if we’d just left the castle, maybe you would have never…”

“I know,” she said, stopping her before she could bring up the situation with Hans, “Just… I need you to start trusting me. You haven’t even talked to me since the wedding. You’ve never even had a conversation with Kristoff. You can’t just assume the worst of him.”

She was doing the best she could to keep her voice low, soft, and reassuring. Despite the frustration she had and still felt toward the crying woman in her arms, she also loved her sister dearly. She was all the family she had.

Except now you have Kristoff too.

She wished that her sister could have seen the way he’d held her when she was fighting through her headache, or the way that he took her hand and gave her signals and avenues to express her discomfort or fear. She wished that she could see the way he sometimes looked at her like she was something precious. Maybe then she’d have been less worried. Maybe then she’d understand.

“I didn’t want to,” Elsa sniffled, “At least I didn’t mean to think that about him right away. But I didn’t know when you were coming back and there were no guards with you, and then there was a troll in my office. Anna I didn’t know what to think.”

It took her almost a full minute to get the whole thing out, the sniffling and choked up tone of her voice making it difficult for her to speak and be understood.

“Think that I learned my lesson and that I’m safe with my husband. I wouldn’t have left alone with him if I didn’t trust him. It’s not like before, I’m not blind.”

“But he’s a stranger.”

“Not to me. We’ve been together for a short time, but he’s no stranger to me. He’s a…”

He’s a man I’m falling in love with.

“He’s becoming a dear friend. I think you’d like him Elsa. He’s got a good heart.”

***

When Kristoff had finished removing Sven’s tack, he’d brushed the reindeer. The he’d fed him, sat with him for a short time, and mostly waited for Anna to return. After what felt like an hour, he forced himself up from the hay bale he’d seated himself on and left Sven’s quiet company for the castle. He’d hoped that Anna would have returned after speaking to her sister, but he supposed that even though she’d told him they didn’t have any duties as a couple for the week, she might very well be too busy to spend time with him now that they were back at the castle.

He’d done his best to keep his head high despite feeling foolish walking through the halls. He’d pretended that he wasn’t lost and snuck Anna’s map from his pocket surreptitiously, running his fingers over it to find his way back to his room.

On his way he’d even managed to ask a maid if she would be able to have a lunch sent up to his room. It felt like something that he shouldn’t have asked, feeling no more royal or entitled as he had before leaving, but also wanting not to return to the kitchens himself. There had been something about being in the space that had made him feel even more like he hadn’t belonged.

Maybe it was because you were beneath even the potato peeler last week

He was in his room now, changing his shirt into one of the clean ones he’d grabbed from his cabin, along with most of the rest of his belongings that fit into one small bag. He heard the knock, and shouted that it was open, knowing it was probably his lunch, but hoping that it was Anna.

“Sir, my apologies, but I believe I encouraged you to get to know Anna better this week,” Kai said as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him, “Not kidnap her to the mountains leaving nothing but a note behind. The Queen was in hysterics… which I should inform you, you do have dinner with her tonight.”

“Dinner with the Queen?”

“As arranged with your wife I believe. She’ll also be in attendance I believe.”

He cursed under his breath, catching a both amused and disapproving look from Kai as he did so. He thought that the heavyset old butler might get along well with his father. He often made the same face.

“I should inform you that you shouldn’t curse in response when invited to dinner with a Queen, but I suppose you already know that. I’ve been in the service of the young Queen for many years, and I believe she trusts me, so I hope it is not a breach of that trust when I say that last I saw her she was not particularly pleased with you.”

“Of course not,” he said, feeling underdressed in the comfortable shirt.

Feeling underdressed next to the butler probably isn’t a good sign for me.

“Don’t mistake me sir,” he added, “I think that it has everything to do with her worries for her sister. If you assuage those I think that she would be perfectly happy to meet your acquaintance.”

Kristoff huffed. He did feel bad for taking Anna away from the castle. He knew that his Uncle had spoken with the Queen, but if he’d thought a bit more about the way he and Anna had gone away beforehand, he probably would have been able to avoid this whole situation. He didn’t want people to have to worry about Anna when he was with her. Least of all her sister.

Her sister who could have me executed if she wants.

“How would I manage that?”

Kai set a tray he’d been carrying atop a table in the middle of the room. Kristoff couldn’t help but think that the man might be doing more for him than he was strictly tasked with insofar as his level of interest in his getting into the Queen’s good graces. He told himself that it was probably because he wanted to see Anna happy and safe given the many years he spent looking after the sisters.

He was happy to have someone to help him regardless. He didn’t think he would be capable of navigating the rules and manners required to not blunder through the rest of his life in the castle without it.

“Well to start,” he replied, “We’ll need to find you something proper to wear to dinner. You have a tailors appointment tomorrow morning, but we’ll have to make do until we sort that out.”

Kristoff couldn’t help but feel like he should be insulted, or at least a bit peeved over the man’s words, but he couldn’t manage it. All he could think of was holding Anna while she was pretending to be asleep that morning and doing anything to see her smile. Doing anything to make her sister believe that he’d meant no harm in taking her to the mountains so that he’d not be under scrutiny every time he spent time alone with his wife.

***

Anna had taken it upon herself to arrange the whole thing. She felt a little bad about the amount of time that it was taking to set her schedule for the week and speak with the kitchen staff about what she wanted for the dinner she was arranging in hopes that her sister would be comforted by meeting her husband in a more significant way than watching their wedding. At least she hoped that the meeting would allow the two to come to some sort of understanding.

I only have two people. If they could just get along that would be ideal.

With all the running she’d been doing she hadn’t had a chance to return to Kristoff. She’d heard that Kai had brought lunch to his room, and after that she assumed that they were busy. Kai was her sister’s most trusted advisor, even though his official position was castle steward, Elsa trusted him with aiding her in crucial decisions beyond its walls. That Kristoff had his council just went to show that there was hope, and that at least someone else was invested in making things work.

She spent the rest of the afternoon deciding what to wear and receiving and writing thank you letters for wedding gifts that had been pouring in from merchants and allied nations. Most of whom had already been in town for Elsa’s coronation and who had not had the time to select a well thought out gift after the rush of events the small country had experienced.

She’d waited until just shortly before the dinner was to start to walk through the halls and to the dining room, finding neither Kristoff nor her sister on the way.

“My apologies your majesty. I hope you understand I’ve never needed to inform anyone of my travel plans in the past, and it was not my intentions to worry anyone by taking Princess Anna into the mountains with me. In the future should we decide to go anywhere together I’ll ensure that you are informed directly.”

Anna recognized the voice of the man standing in the hall outside the dining room. The man addressing the queen, but so neatly dressed she barely recognized him as her husband. He looked much like he had on their wedding day. Clean shaven with his hair slicked back. The clothes he wore were simple, but they’d been pressed and someone had taken the time to tie a cravat around his neck.

Kai no doubt.

That man has been wearing cravats for years, in style or not.

They hadn’t noticed her coming down the hall, or at least she didn’t think that they had given that neither made any sign of noticing her approach.

“You must understand,” Elsa said back, seeming in much better shape than she had been hours earlier, “With everything that happened with Hans I worry about her. I’m sure you’re a good man, but you can’t fault me for being cautious.”

He gave her a strange look and Anna’s heart started to pound. She hadn’t spoken with him about Hans. Being in the mountains for the whole debacle, she’d suspected he hadn’t known all the details, and for now she wanted it kept that way. Her feet felt frozen below her though, as Kristoff responded in confusion.

“I’m not really sure I know the details,” he said quietly, “I’m sure if I did I would have thought twice about taking her away from the castle alone. No one has told me much of it, even if it was the reason for our wedding.”

Elsa shook her head, looking anxious, but then recovered.

She took a deep breath and Anna wanted to run down the hall, to speak up, to tell her that it was something that she and Kristoff would discuss later, when she was ready.

“Hans…He tried to kill us both.”

***

He noticed her after her sister spoke. She looked white as a ghost at the end of the hall, and he understood why. Her sister hadn’t exactly been vague when it came to telling him why she’d been worried about him taking her into the mountains.

Hans. The foreign prince. He’d tried to kill his wife and her sister.

He’d thought that maybe the real reason for the wedding had just been that Elsa had lost control of her powers and that to build confidence in her ability to rule a royal wedding was planned to comfort the masses. He supposed now that it was just part of it, that the real reason was more complex, and that it all came down to the man that Anna had known before him.

He wasn’t sure of how to react. All he knew was that Anna’s eyes were on him and that she looked upset. Crossing the hall to her was instinct, as was giving her his hand, offering it to her open and outstretched.

She walked forward instead, into his chest, and into his arms as he wrapped them around her. She had every right to be upset, as did her sister he supposed as he felt even greater regret for taking Anna away without warning. So he did what he thought was best, what Anna was showing him was best. He held her close.

Elsa cleared her throat after a moment.

“I think…”

Kristoff turned his head, not releasing Anna to look at her sister. She was staring at them, her cheeks flushed and an almost smile on her lips.

I think she might understand now.

“I think dinner is ready. I’ll just go ahead… Anna… Kristoff, whenever you’re ready. I think we have a lot to discuss.”

When the dining room door closed behind her, leaving them alone in the hall, he turned his full attention back to Anna, holding her tight, leaning his head down low, and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“It’s alright,” he said, because that was all he could think to say. “It’s all going to be alright.”

“Who made you wear a cravat?” she asked, quiet with her face against his chest.

“Kai.”

She made a soft sound, almost like a laugh but not quite.

“I thought maybe. Can I take it off for you? You look uncomfortable.”

He nodded, and she stepped back a bit out of his arms, giving him room to duck down for her.

Her small fingers slid along the collar of his shirt, loosening the knots of the offending cloth and then, unexpectedly, running her fingers through his hair, mussing it a bit before pulling the cravat away and allowing him to stand back up again at his full height.

“There,” she whispered, taking his hand with the cloth between their palms, “You look like you again.”

The color had returned to her face and he smiled at her. She liked him as he was, and that was a comfort.

Now to convince her sister.

[theunvanquishedzims]

The Michigan Fleet authors posted their AUs so here are mine

theunvanquishedzims: I have SO MANY Boat Boy ideas but I'm sitting on them because I came up with a bunch halfway through the book and they got jossed by the end rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Uhhh, sorry? I think?? theunvanquishedzims: (i.e. Basil gets sad and weepy over Rich and Liam flirting at a party, Trimmer plays fairy godmother a la ripping half his shirt off, giving him a pep talk, and sending him back out there to Win Back His Man) rollerskatinglizard: *whooping* theunvanquishedzims: Jossed so hard rollerskatinglizard:Okay, that's DELIGHTFUL rollerskatinglizard: Trimmer is the most terrifying fairy godmother rollerskatinglizard: Anything else? :Dc theunvanquishedzims: Lemme get my notes rollerskatinglizard: *gleeful wiggling*

theunvanquishedzims: Okay so I stopped reading when the Sympatico grabbed Rich during the storm and it took me a month or so to get back and finish, so I was under the impression that the ship was still being fixed in drydock and not, y'know, actually being crewed and sailed. (Trimmer yelling "just let her sink" hits reeeeeaaaallly different when you know that) rollerskatinglizard: Ahaha oh dang theunvanquishedzims: So the big idea was the gangsters needing something from the Sympatico. Not the general thugs and delinquents crewing the Sympatico but the actual organized crime of the Fleet, who were getting pretty used to using ships like the Sympatico to run their dirty deeds through. Except it's basically impossible to get what they need out of it, even when they drag out one of the old IST guys. He finally tells them Rich was the one who did the heavy lifting for the past few years rollerskatinglizard: Ooooh! rollerskatinglizard: What an interesting idea! theunvanquishedzims: Hang on I need to restart rollerskatinglizard: Ah yes, computers theunvanquishedzims: Sorry, that turned into a dinner break and running errands During which I came up with a couple new AUs theunvanquishedzims: Okay, back to mafia: they track Rich down, probably snag him after he's been out boarding. Off work, not expected back on the ship, tired from all the exercise, etc. They're not overtly threatening, just pick up his skimmer and politely suggest that he comes help them, and he probably goes quietly because there's like, six of them. I'm thinking only one of whom was actually posted on the Sympatico theunvanquishedzims: So they get back to the Sympatico. She's been temporarily decommissioned until the Fleet can fix her broken processes, but that's also a cover story by the mob. They want to clear out all the smuggled goods and information, but she's basically a ghost ship, silent and empty, and even the other IST guy couldn't get more than a few blinking lights. She's sulking basically, she knows they're not there to fix her so she's digging in her heels and playing dead. Like a toddler going ragdoll when they don't want to go to bed. theunvanquishedzims: They explain to Rich that they can't get a response and want him to take a crack at it. "Has she said anything?" "Who?" "The Sympatico." "...we didn't talk to it." "Well that's half your problem right there." theunvanquishedzims: At this point you should watch Show Yourself from Frozen 2, and the crystal scene from Atlantis the Lost Empire. Stepping into the place you've been called, making your presence known, and having a greater power reach out for you. Shiny lights, chasing the spark of life to its source, and having the power consume and embody you. Rich is used to it but it's probably pretty freaky from the outside, and way less magical-looking than a Disney movie. Probably more like when Magneto activated the machine in the first X-Men movie. Step up, turn it on, and suddenly it's sucking the life out of you, making you a living battery theunvanquishedzims: In my head I am picturing the glowing blue eyes, lights cracking along the skin like lightning or circuit patterns, the implants glowing in his temples, standing at a terminal like a star trek deck, maybe a faint breeze-like movement of the hair and clothes to indicate the sheer power radiating off of him. In reality it's probably more like he falls down, gets up, stumbles along to a good spot out of the weather, and curls up in a secluded defensible spot to stare emptily at the wall for a few hours while lights randomly go on and off around the ship theunvanquishedzims: Just being trailed by six very wary mafia dudes who have probably never seen someone mind-meld a ship, and definitely not solo. He's like a zombie, and when he does talk it's very clear he's talking for the both of them theunvanquishedzims: If any of them are in sync with the ship they definitely feel the !!!Rich you're back!!! vibe theunvanquishedzims: No idea how that resolves, I guess it depends on how powerful the mafia is. If they're the kind of entrenched criminals who are ongoing characters, then they have Rich scrub out what they need then dump him back on his skimmer to face the fallout alone. He might report it to the spooks? Or at least try to tell Basil and Mitch theunvanquishedzims: If they're not recurring characters then they were definitely being tracked by the spooks, who move in once the Sympatico comes back online. Rich has to answer some very tough questions but he cooperates fully and winds up digging up a LOT of dirt out of the Sympatico, now that the mafia showed him where to look. It's another one of the super traumatizing moments that makes him look cool and heroic. Oh yeah, totally got kidnapped, single-handedly piloted a ship, and helped bust the mafia, please stop talking about it, I need a nap, and also someone to go with me next time I go boarding. theunvanquishedzims: (And then I finished reading the book and found out that the Sympatico had a new crew and was out on the water with her AI still fried and broken, how did no one notice that)

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theunvanquishedzims: Okay I don't have Trimmer's voice well enough to write this fic so I'm feeding it to you raw: Trucker AU theunvanquishedzims: Rich is a long-haul trucker, much to the disappointment of his elder sister Angela, who is in law enforcement and thought he had a decent future in it too. Athena is a pro wrestler and totally down to support her brother traveling the country (and hopefully being in the same city as him sometime, she wants him to see her kick ass!) Rich wants to pursue a degree in [tech or engineering] but college is expensive, and trucking is a good way to make money, on top of which you don't have to pay rent when you're on the road. So he's saving up for school, probably listening to a lot of audiobooks, podcasts, and training guides while chugging along. theunvanquishedzims: Not nearly as bad or sketchy as the Sympatico, but life on the road can get pretty sketch sometimes, especially when you're alone. Enter Trimmer. Or rather, enter Rich into the middle-of-nowhere trucker stopover bar where Trimmer is getting his ass kicked. theunvanquishedzims: (Gonna go ahead and say the bar is called the Sympatico, and this is a very bad night to be there, which is saying something because any night at the Sympatico is a bad night to be there.) theunvanquishedzims: Fortunately, Rich is not trapped there by the cold uncaring waters of Lake Michigan, he can just turn around and leave when he sees the nightly fight brewing. Unfortunately, he has a weakness for cute twinks, and no matter how much the guy is insulting their mothers four on one is really not fair, so he winds up wading in, scooping Trimmer up, and murder-stalking to the exit theunvanquishedzims: [At this point I pause to stare out the window and wonder wistfully what their canon meeting was like, who approached who, if Trimmer just straight-up used his lunch to hire a bodyguard or if Rich did the "are you gonna finish that" puppy-eyes and Trimmer realized how easily he could be bribed, etc etc] theunvanquishedzims: In the Trucker AU Trimmer waits until they're outside to go feral goblin on the arm that's holding him, Rich drops him, and negotiation commences theunvanquishedzims: I don't have Trimmer's backstory nailed down, the "teenage runaway" archetype doesn't really suit someone with a large loving family, but safe to say that whatever lead him to hitchhiking across the Midwest he is determined to see through out of sheer bullheaded stubbornness. The only thing worse than calling your parents to bail you out with bus money home is calling your grandma. It might have involved stabbing a college advisor when the guy got rapey, he's technically not on the run from the law, he DEFINITELY is not on track to getting his degree. Halfway between college dropout and missing person. If he was wealthy he'd be backpacking Europe for a semester, but he's not, so he's hitchhiking America. And getting molested by truckers, because Trimmer can't have nice things. theunvanquishedzims: He is really not interested in getting molested by Rich! But, as Rich points out, he did just save him from getting stabbed, Trimmer doesn't seem to have any exit options for this backwater town, and holy #&$^ the bar's on fire. (The Sympatico burns to the ground that night, to the betterment of the world at large.) rollerskatinglizard: You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this But you should totally post it Splick and Roach would both scream in glee theunvanquishedzims: Rich and Trimmer get out while the getting is good, and it's nearly dawn before they finally hash out details. Rich offers to drop him off at the next town, but they're still pretty close to the epicenter of the mass exodus so the next few hundred miles are probably not going to be safe for Trimmer. By this point Trimmer has found a bunch of the old textbooks Rich bought secondhand to study in his free time and come to the conclusion that [this nerd is a nerd] his story checks out. Just a college kid trying to scrape together the cash to get an education and make a decent living. Reminds Trimmer of Trimmer. (Reminds Trimmer of Joey.) rollerskatinglizard: ;u; <3 Beautiful theunvanquishedzims: So now Rich has a little traveling buddy! Helps him stay awake on the long hauls, lets him use the carpool lanes, even reads to him out of the textbooks sometimes, with commentary. Trimmer is really smart and surprisingly easy to get along with. They nap in the cab, eat in diners, and share motel rooms. Trimmer unclenches a little. Rich is good about not asking personal questions. They definitely watch Athena's fights on tv more than once, much to Rich's chagrin and Trimmer's loud encouragement. He started fanboying over it to annoy and embarrass Rich, but it is surprisingly cathartic to watch someone get trash-talked and respond by just BODYSLAMMING their opponent. ("Why are you rooting for her, you're the biggest trash-talker I know," Rich mutters into his beer, face bright red as Trimmer whoops and high-fives the waitress he got to change the channel in the sports bar.) theunvanquishedzims: ("She would wipe the floor with me," Trimmer responds with a smirk, watching smugly as Rich tries to figure out if Trimmer is having impure thoughts about his baby sister) theunvanquishedzims: (They have already established that Trimmer does not have impure thoughts about Rich, that Rich DOES have impure thoughts about Trimmer, but as long as he stays in his own motel bed that's fine.) (Trimmer still sleeps with a knife under his pillow but doesn't bother in the cab, where their co-naps occasionally verge on snuggling.) rollerskatinglizard: <3 <3 <3 *perfect* theunvanquishedzims: They finally reach their destination. It has been [days to drive a rig between NJ and CA] and they make it there slightly ahead of schedule. Rich drops off the delivery, Trimmer comes face-to-face with the reality of the trip ending. He'd been hitchhiking for months and felt like he was going nowhere, and now a few days and suddenly he's crossed the entire country, and almost kinda maybe had fun doing it! And California's as good a place as any to stay, at least he won't freeze to death if he doesn't find a place to crash for the night. theunvanquishedzims: Then Rich comes back and hands him a wad of cash, pocketing a stack of his own. "Got a cash bonus for finishing early! And since you're the reason I made it here this fast, I just figured part of it is your share..." he peters out, trying to explain his reasoning. They sit in silence for a while, both thinking about Trimmer in California, far away from anyone who would want to hurt him, with a few hundred dollars in his pocket. theunvanquishedzims: "...Let's get lunch," Trimmer finally decrees, and Rich can't keep the relieved smile off his face. They renegotiate some things over lunch, and then go to pick up the next load to haul cross-country. Together. rollerskatinglizard: AWWWWWW!!!! *YES,* I love it!!! theunvanquishedzims: And then eventually they go to college together, and get their degrees, and good jobs, and meet the families, and Trimmer absolutely drags Rich to as many of Athena's fights as they can manage on the road. It's just to save money, things are cheaper when you split the rent, Trimmer hollers on the phone. You put a ring on that boy's finger, y'hear?! Hellbender hollers back. I am so glad the word moirail exists rollerskatinglizard: YES God yes Also this AU pleases me greatly rollerskatinglizard: Blessings upon you for it theunvanquishedzims: ...technically the Michigan Fleet takes place in a post-Homestuck world, so theoretically it could have time to enter mainstream lexicon. It's better than "bromance" theunvanquishedzims: JUST THROWING THAT OUT THERE >.> rollerskatinglizard: Yeah, totally different feel than bromance!

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theunvanquishedzims: Speaking of Homestuck! Wanna hear the Helmsman AU? :3 rollerskatinglizard: YES PLEASE theunvanquishedzims: Okay gimme a minute to get my notes, it's not based on One of Our Submarines but I can't remember the fic title. Have you read the one where the kids redesign the helmsrig and use that to garner support for Feferi as Empress? Lots of political drama, Sollux-centric, [spoiler], and in the end they win *but at what cost* (((If someone knows what fic I'm talking about please link me, I can't find it.))) rollerskatinglizard: No, I haven't theunvanquishedzims: It's good, if you like the nitty-gritty of rebellions. The piece I'm cherry picking is the new Empress introducing a new way of helming that allows more freedom. Instead of a single enslaved lowblood being hung up in tentacle wires until they drop dead, it's something you can unplug from, allowing psionics to swap out, take shifts, etc. So Empress Clearwater (yay seadweller name) is dead, long live Empress Clearwater, and she shakes things up by introducing her new helmsrig and orders it implemented Fleet-wide theunvanquishedzims: I don't think this universe is as bad as canon but it's still pretty rough on the bad ships, and the Sympatico is a very bad ship theunvanquishedzims: Angie is still a security officer, probably fairly high-ranking as a greenblood. Athena is a pro wrestler. Sports are probably a bigger part of life in a Fleet that doesn't center around conquest. The three probably grew up in the same neighborhood, maybe dabbled in quadrants before settling on hatefriends. Oooh, or ash, Athena setting them up to talk out their issues over lunch and then heckle each other over their other quadrants could fit in that quadrant. theunvanquishedzims: Rich is, of course, a helmsman. It's rare for someone that close to jade to be so powerful, he was actually planning on a career in tech, but when he got called in for psionic testing he basically crushed it. Possibly literally. And olive is still technically a lowblood, so off to the helm with you. theunvanquishedzims: His first posting is the Sympatico, and it's a nightmare. The one bright spot (dark spot? How do trolls even. *insert rant about Kanaya being pastel goth not goth-goth*) theunvanquishedzims: The one bright spot is Trimmer, a technician whose survival method is to lock himself in the helm dock and stab anybody who tries to mess with Rich when he's piloting. It's basically how things work in the superstorms, but 75-90% of the time instead of a few times a year theunvanquishedzims: Rich can barely talk most days, they communicate via chat client, and even that requires a lot of brainpower so they can't do it when the Sympatico has to fight something or do difficult maneuvers in space, which is pretty frequently. But Rich keeps an eye out for Trimmer, directing him through the ship to help him avoid people and fights, and tweaking things like hall lights when things get hairy. I think at least once he turned off the gravity, it cost him but it got Trimmer out of a really bad situation and gave him an excuse to hole up in the helmsdeck for a few days until things cooled off theunvanquishedzims: But all that is in the past! There's a new Empress, a new crew, and a new way of helming! theunvanquishedzims: The Sympatico is one of the flagships to roll out the new helmsrig. The original crew was disbanded, culled, reassigned. Trimmer was allowed to stay (at Rich's request) to ease the transition. It's a big day, lots of media attention documenting the new helmsmen, and Rich is doing his best to keep calm. He had to do some physical therapy to stand upright and be able to walk from the big speech to his shiny new helmsrig, but as a fairly young recruit he's not nearly as bad off as some older helmsmen whose bodies have atrophied. He's still pretty skinny though, especially when compared to Angie and Athena, who he reunited with (for the cameras) #helmsmenaretrollstoo, #greenc3<green, #omgishipit, see things are much better now, people can reclaim their lives and quadrants, helming is something to be excited for not scared of, etc. Lots of propaganda, lots of attention, lots of pressure to get this right theunvanquishedzims: And then he walks into the helm and Trimmer is there. Rich would probably have had a meltdown if he hadn't been, but no one can tell because they're so calm and professional. They're both cleaned up and impeccably uniformed, the plugging in goes smoothly, and the Sympatico comes to life and lifts off into the sky into a sunset that would make a Hollywood director weep. The cameras turn off, great job everybody, and things return to normal. Except Rich and Trimmer have no idea how to handle normal. For the first 8 hours it's fine, it's good, it's a little weird that Trimmer looks so tidy and that Rich is sitting in a padded chair instead of being flesh-jacked by tentacles, but it's fine. They chat over text, a little stilted but plenty to catch up on theunvanquishedzims: Rich spies on the new crew and gossips about how boring they are and how weird the ship looks with everything cleared out and well-lit, and wow where did that section of storage come from? Oh right that used to be a hidden smuggling nook. Haha nook. See they're fine, they're laughing at the same old jokes. DEFINITELY weird that Rich is physically laughing. And then their relief shift comes on, with the new 2nd shift helmsman, and it's time for Rich to get unplugged for the day and go. Go to his room, which he has now, or to eat, which he can do now, or any one of a million things that normal trolls do, because he's a normal troll now. (This is turning out a little different from in my head but I like it.) He makes it about two hallways, walking silently side-by-side with Trimmer, before he breaks down. Or rather Trimmer breaks down. Or maybe they both simultaneously break, there is a lot of breaking happening, and it's not great that it's happening in the hall where anybody could walk by and where the new helmsman is almost certainly seeing them and possibly reporting them, and Trimmer's flight instincts are to run back to the helm where it's safe but Rich isn't there, RICH was the reason it was safe and he's not at the helm, he's right there in the hall. Rich, I know not how, picks up Trimmer and gets them to him room. It' close by, thank goodness, and it has a lock on the door, how weird, and Trimmer is there. He missed Trimmer so so much. rollerskatinglizard: ;u; <3<3<3<3 theunvanquishedzims: [The following scene contains content too graphic for wigglers under the age of seven sweeps] rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Hardcore conciliation!!! theunvanquishedzims: From Trimmer's POV: Merrill requested him to remain a tech on the Sympatico. Makes sense, he was the only one who treated the guy like an actual troll and not a drooling mass of computational power. They got caught up, it's weird how clean and quiet the ship is, no fights to report beyond a spat in the cafeteria that turned out to be pitch flirtation. His shirtcuffs itch and he wants to roll them up but it's day one of the new empire and he doesn't want to get culled for being untidy on the Empress's pet project ship. There's so many other things to get culled for, anyway. And then shift is over. (Weird, he's used to working 16-hour days and sleeping in the helmdeck half the time.) And he has to unplug Merrill (double weird, he's not used to touching Merrill unless it's for a physical repair. Very aware of Rich as a physical person, especially when he's standing up and not obscured in a mass of tentacles.) And then they leave, together, which is WEIRD, because for sweeps Trimmer has been sneaking out of the helmdeck to go on a food run with Merrill texting him directions, and there's no Merrill on screen providing guidance to avoid fights, but there's not gonna BE any fights, and everything is the same but different and looks weird and shiny and there's a giant troll right next to him, stalking him, why didn't Merrill warn him?! rollerskatinglizard: Oh NO, ahaha, oh these poor doofuses theunvanquishedzims: From Rich's POV: he's been seeing these hallways for sweeps, but not from this angle, the ship is so familiar but so foreign to him, and he can't hear her, can't feel her, and he keeps reaching out for her even after all that training he did to get used to the new tech, there's still an absence and some part of his brain that says not being linked to the ship means something has gone catastrophically wrong and everyone onboard is going to die, TRIMMER is going to die, Trimmer is freaking out and hyperventilating next to him, Trimmer's running out of oxygen and the ship isn't responding to him to tell him what's wrong with the oxygen, and then Trimmer goes to bolt back to the helm but that's full of strange trolls and a new helmsman, and that knowledge is enough to shake him back to the situation at hand. He doesn't know where he finds the strength or the presence of mind, but he manages to grab up Trimmer and get them back to safety. It's just that safety is now his berth, not the helm. They're alone in his berth. And Trimmer is still freaking out. Sh-shoosh? Shoosh. Shooooooosh. theunvanquishedzims: Everything is diamonds and snow and beautiful shining crystals (in the movies that will someday be made about this day.) In the moment there's a lot more hyperventilating and snot. Basically, culmination behind the entire fic: do they actually have feelings for each other, or was it just about mutual survival the whole time? rollerskatinglizard: INCREDIBLY ADORABLE AND INTIMATE COMFORT, *YESSSS* Thank you yes, I'll have a dozen God that's splendid theunvanquishedzims: And they're both freaking out, Rich is hungry and physically tired and needs to do a lot of stretches, Trimmer is not used to Rich being huge and mobile and right next to him, and they both have crazy big trust issues, but...yeah, they're pale. They're so pale for each other, and it was so hard during the transition not seeing each other and not knowing how the other felt, not knowing how THEY felt, if they really had feelings or if it was all a bad situation. And now they know. They have feelings. And because they're trolls and not humans, they can flop on a pile and talk about those feelings in a non-platonic way, and Rich can pet Trimmer's hair and tell him how pretty he is and how Rich is glad that Trimmer got it properly cut instead of just hacking it too short for someone to grab, and how much he worried in the hall about not being able to see farther than his own field of vision to keep Trimmer out of harm's way, and how this whole thing is so weird and Rich is so scared but he's just really, really happy that Trimmer took the posting on the Sympatico, because he pities Trimmer and he wants him around and he was so glad that Trimmer wanted to still be around him too theunvanquishedzims: The media always depicts piling as either the traditional fairytale highblood freakout, or an extremely mellow ASMR-ish chillout with lots of hairpetting and horn polishing. Not two midbloods looting a mostly-empty room for enough junk to make a large enough pile to sit on, shrieking at each other about their feelings and how weird this is and why didn't you SAY something, me?! why didn't YOU say something?! Three SWEEPS we've been dancing around this! Well I didn't know if you felt the same way or if you just needed me to survive! Etc etc etc. Lots of getting up and stomping around , pacing the floor while ranting, trying to scavenge more stuff to throw on the pile. Rich owns basically nothing and it's the first time he's not judging Trimmer for keeping his room a garbage heap, even empty pizza boxes would be better than trying to make a pile out of two sweaters and a toothbrush. rollerskatinglizard: XDDD TuT aaaaah, YES theunvanquishedzims: Rich definitely rips off a wall panel and pulls out some wires, Trimmer doesn't even question it, they've lived and breathed this ship long enough to know what every wire does and which are nonessential to ship functioning. And with the wall panel crunched up they can pile stuff around it to make it seem less sparse, and wow it doesn't even matter that he pulled a panel down, this is HIS wall in HIS room now, he can "redecorate" as he sees fit, cue more yelling about how he doesn't know what to do with himself or his newfound freedom. The whole thing is just yelling and cussing and grabbing and shaking. It probably looks black from the outside, but they are swimming in palest cream. theunvanquishedzims: Eventually they give up on the pile. They go through Rich's entire perigee of snack rations to avoid having to go to the cafeteria, halfheartedly make fun of Rich's chewing, then crawl into the recuperacoon together. Thank goodness there was such a big push to show off how great helmsmen's lives will be, Rich scored a blueblood-huge 'coon and he's still skinny enough that they can both fit in it together. They sleep together, in sopor like proper trolls with proper lives as opposed to surrounded by pink tentacles and misery. Tomorrow they'll have to venture out for food, and do Rich's stretches and physical therapy, and head to their shift like the galaxy hasn't flipped upside-down, but they're handle that together. rollerskatinglizard: Oh help, my heart!! TuT It's SO CUTE, AAAAAAAH theunvanquishedzims: Okay my computer has been trying to shut down for the last three paragraphs so I think it's time to log off for the night, but I hope you enjoy the AUs, I will tell you more tomorrow rollerskatinglizard: Thank you so much!! Have a good night! theunvanquishedzims: (In the original version Rich and Trimmer came face-to-face for the first time since the Sympatico was busted up and Rich pulled out for rehab, and basically had a giant pale meltdown right there against the wall. There was purring, and crying, and confessions, all caught on film. Athena and Angie definitely saw. It had to be censored out of the broadcast. Someone uploaded it to Troll Pornhub and it won a Troll Pornhub Emmy for Truth in Journalism, which was not a category the Troll Pornhub Emmys had before, so congrats Merrill and Trimmer) rollerskatinglizard: *dying* oh my GOD Rich would blush so hard he'd keel over

_________________________________________

theunvanquishedzims: I woke up to the idea of Rich as Fezzik and Trimmer as Inigo Montoya (book version.) rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Oh man, delightful theunvanquishedzims: Soft-hearted giant and stabby little friend rollerskatinglizard: Yesss theunvanquishedzims: Only problem is Trimmer's grudge seems to be against the entire world, not any particular murderer theunvanquishedzims: But they could definitely take on the Zoo of Death together rollerskatinglizard: It could be both, in the AU! Specific grudge and also he hates everyone theunvanquishedzims: Instead of not being left-handed he pulls his feet out of his boots and surprise! More hands to stab you with Makes the acrobatics on top of the cliff more exciting rollerskatinglizard: *dying* YES Perfect! theunvanquishedzims: I don't know who the Man in Black of most beautiful woman in the world would be, but Rich catching them jumping out a window to whisk them away on horseback is lovely rollerskatinglizard: *strokes chin thoughtfully* If Rich is Fezzik, I think Basil might as well be the beautiful love interest, and Mitch is his farm boy turned dashing rogue theunvanquishedzims: Mitch and Trimmer sword fighting rollerskatinglizard: YES theunvanquishedzims: Mitch going through hell and back to save his lady love, then Rich shows up with the horses and says "hello pretty lady" and Basil is just swooning over him rollerskatinglizard: Mitch is pretty chill with Rich by then, he can handle sharing Rich didn't try *hard* to kill him, after all theunvanquishedzims: He even made it a fair fight instead of ambushing him He put down the rock and Mitch put down the sword and they tried to kill each other like civilized people rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Yes, exactly theunvanquishedzims: Rich even helped bring him back from being mostly dead rollerskatinglizard: They're practically best buddies now! theunvanquishedzims: Which I imagine is 1000x funnier because Trimmer hates this guy and doesn't want to help him but he has info Trimmer needs rollerskatinglizard: Rich just being reprovingly like Come on, buddy, he's cool really I KNOW you bonded over your sword fight with him Don't lie Trimmer: HE'S STILL A DIPSHIT theunvanquishedzims: Trimmer: It was a little fun to take the boots off I guess, I don't get to do that often rollerskatinglizard: Hahaha yes theunvanquishedzims: Downside of being the best swordsman in the world, nobody can touch you. UNTIL NOW. Trimmer: I killed the guy but now I have nothing to live for. Mitch: Have you considered piracy? Stabbing people all day and all the rope ladders you can climb rollerskatinglizard: *dying* theunvanquishedzims: Now Trimmer's life goal is to reclaim his title of Best Swordsman, which means fighting Mitch a lot rollerskatinglizard: Which they both enjoy Sometimes Trimmer wins, sometimes Mitch does rollerskatinglizard: Roach points out that Liam would be Miracle Max theunvanquishedzims: I was just about to type that! rollerskatinglizard: Heee! Good brain wave theunvanquishedzims: You need a cure for death? Nope, sorry. You need to it humiliate my mortal enemy? Coming right up! rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: Slipping Rich the holocaust cloak "because it fits so nice" rollerskatinglizard: Pfff yes theunvanquishedzims: Which is said with a million more winky faces than the movie rollerskatinglizard: XDDD Naturally Liam is a much higher-libido mad scientist-substitute theunvanquishedzims: He doesn't have a wife he has like six boyfriend minions hanging around in various states of undress. He got fired for banging the king when he was the royal miracle man, he did a good job but the prince found it icky. rollerskatinglizard: *dying* YES theunvanquishedzims: Basil as Buttercup tho. Basil: Mitch is a good friend. :) Just a great buddy. :)) Kind of smelly but a nice boy. :))) Someone: *might possibly find Mitch attractive* Basil: What? Why. No. Why would she. I mean yeah he's smart and muscular and tan and broad-shouldered and has perfect teeth and his sweat glistens in the sun as he does his chores shirtless, but c'mon, he's not THAT much hotter than her middle-aged husband. No way. rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* rollerskatinglizard: My cowriters very enjoy this AU concept, btw, thank you theunvanquishedzims: Excellent theunvanquishedzims: Trimmer: I told him I was there to kill him and he just...ran away? Mitch: Who does that? rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* theunvanquishedzims: Basil being a slobby peasant until two minutes after Mitch leaves, then realizing he has to take care of himself if he wants to keep Mitch's attention, and only then starting to regularly bathe and brush his hair and work on his figure. rollerskatinglizard: Snirk! Sounds about right, doofus nerd that he is theunvanquishedzims: Then he becomes a princess and has two servants per limb to keep him clean and shining, so when Mitch sneaks into the wedding announcement crowd his first view of Basil is 1. clean 2. shiny hair 3. dressed like a queen

_______________________________

General book chit-chat, no specific AU

theunvanquishedzims: I saw the post about the Sympatico crew having a very different view of Rich than his friends and now I am consumed with the idea of Rich being seen as scary by anyone who knows him for more than a single minute. Like, he flinches at the sight of a uniform, he can't stand to be in a room with more than one other person in it, and he's so busy working he doesn't really have time to go around carving out a territory rollerskatinglizard: Right? You'd think it'd be tricky, but apparently no theunvanquishedzims: And now there's video of him covered in kittens, and doing cool board tricks, and pretending a little barbel is too heavy to lift, and also he might be in the news for taking down a murderous conspiracy at the Mall. rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Indeed theunvanquishedzims: Where did big scary monster Merrill go, who is this marshmallow rollerskatinglizard: What scam is he trying to run?!? theunvanquishedzims: Oooh, I pity the fool who is assigned to a boat with Officer Merrill. Double flinch response rollerskatinglizard: RIGHT? *OH SHIT, THERE'S ANOTHER ONE* And she's ARMED theunvanquishedzims: Try to blow off some steam by watching some wrestling, A THIRD ONE rollerskatinglizard: Some poor dumbass who sneered at Trimmer once ends up hiding out on a penny boat bc there's MERRILLS EVERYWHERE, IT'S NOT SAFE OUT THERE theunvanquishedzims: *dying laughing* I imagine a non-terrible Sympatico crew member meeting reformed Rich is like those Very Special Episodes where the hero's high school bully or childhood bad influence friend comes to town, and they're so nice and friendly and apologetic about what happened back in the day rollerskatinglizard: We actually have an encounter something like that planned! theunvanquishedzims: The hero's friends are all charmed and the hero can't convince anyone that it's all an act, he's secretly still terrible, look I'll prove it *does something that makes the hero look bad and the reformed guy look like a victim* Yaaaaaaaaay!!! Outside perspective is the BEST rollerskatinglizard: Rich and this random dude, both acting like the other one is a total menace Meanwhile, anyone who's known either of them since is like ....No?? He's a fine guy, perfectly reasonable Merrill, stop growling theunvanquishedzims: Two Spider-Men pointing at each other rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Yes theunvanquishedzims: Also the fact that Rich has gotten BIGGER since leaving the Sympatico is probably a shock rollerskatinglizard: OH yeah theunvanquishedzims: Richard "Cranky Because He's Slowly Starving To Death" Merrill rollerskatinglizard: I mean, it's a shock to Rich When he hits another growth spurt So it's definitely a shock to anyone else theunvanquishedzims: Oh yeah, he was like 17 when he was first assigned there, nowhere near done growing yet Richard "My Shirts Rip When I Flex Wrong" Merrill rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* He'd look so sheepish and disgruntled if someone gave him that "I flexed and the sleeves fell off" shirt theunvanquishedzims: I am so glad Trimmer got to him before, like, a gang could figure out he's easily bribed with food. Things could have gone so much worse, corruption-wise rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: I just finished Athena and the Midnight Chicken and WOW Rich was actually kind of close to giving in to peer pressure there, if Athena hadn't thrown herself towards the proverbial sword he might have let himself be talked into something he really didn't want to do. rollerskatinglizard: It's possible! Baby Rich is very weak to peer pressure theunvanquishedzims: If they had been smart and manipulative and laid the groundwork first it would have been even easier, not just "here's a knife let your ingrained killing instincts do the work" rollerskatinglizard: Yeah! It could've gone much worse theunvanquishedzims: In the wrong hands Rich would make a very good, very sad soldier But like, deep down inside sad where no one could see it. rollerskatinglizard: That was actually close to his original story when I came up with him

[I’ll check with Skates to see if it’s okay to post that bit]

theunvanquishedzims: I'm already nervous about those two Horrible Old Men rollerskatinglizard: Which two? theunvanquishedzims: My face went D: at the idea that there's more than two rollerskatinglizard: *pats u gently* theunvanquishedzims: The werewolf guy with the boys on leashes is the one that makes my instincts scream KILL IT WITH FIRE, but there's also the one with the scar on his face? I wanna say Arthur Carroway rollerskatinglizard: >u> Gosh, Zims, idk WHY you'd be worried about him Just bc my tablet keyboard knows how to spell Carraway That's no reason to be concerned! rollerskatinglizard: Maybe Splick made him the [tarot] Devil bc he's devilishly handsome! Did you think of that?? theunvanquishedzims: I am terrified of him showing up, I know I'll be cringing too hard to keep reading right away. Men who abuse positions of power are so squicky, I couldn't even stand to watch the Office and Michael Scott is like, the most benign example of the trope But yeah a guy like that getting to Rich as a younger more mallable person, fresh-faced and eager to please. Ugh. Such a bad ending. rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: William Sandgren is the other one, I think rollerskatinglizard: Fortunately Rich did get rescued originally! I don't do sad endings theunvanquishedzims: He looks cool, I don't immediately want him dead for my own safety rollerskatinglizard: <u< theunvanquishedzims: ...I will ignore that face and continue to think of him as the lesser of two evils for now rollerskatinglizard: Absolutely feel free! ^u^ theunvanquishedzims: When I thought about this earlier I imagined Liam actually being the one to start a pissing contest with Arthur. Rich guy vs criminal guy, my grandmother bedazzled the skulls of her enemies, your teeth would make a lovely necklace, etc etc "Well I'd love to get them around your throat" ;) rollerskatinglizard: You know Liam QUITE well theunvanquishedzims: I'm a visual learner, so all the illustrations are helping me flesh out characteristics. Liam smiling like a psycho while his face drips blood is very telling. rollerskatinglizard: Hah!!! Right? God, he's SUCH a little firebrand theunvanquishedzims: (Also, AU where Liam is the babydoll heir and Rich is the soldier mod bodyguard he climbs like a tree) rollerskatinglizard: We have definitely discussed that AU thoughtfully >u> It's good, v tasty theunvanquishedzims: Rich is all THIS GOES AGAINST THE RULES and Liam is all oh you like being told what to do hmm? >:3~ rollerskatinglizard: Rich: God this is SUCH a bad idea, I'm gonna get so fired Liam: Not if you're good enough at it! theunvanquishedzims: I imagine without a pregnancy they'd be able to keep it under wraps slightly longer than grandma Beaker rollerskatinglizard: True! theunvanquishedzims: "Under wraps" like everyone in the house can't hear them rollerskatinglizard: Pffff YUP theunvanquishedzims: Ugh now I'm remembering Trimmer being scared of Rich getting drunk and pushy and I'm sad again rollerskatinglizard: No one likes Rich's drinking except Rich rollerskatinglizard: It's okay tho, Trimmer trusts Rich more after that theunvanquishedzims:I think he'll figure it out given enough time. Rich: Well everyone drinks because work sucks. Basil and Mitch: Nope! Rich: Well I'm a soldier mod so it just LOOKS like I'm drinking a lot. Angie and Thena: Nope! Rich: Well I have trauma from the Sympatico so I need alcohol to deal with that. Trimmer: Nope! Rich: ...well I guess I have a problem then. :< Everyone: Yep! rollerskatinglizard: Indeed theunvanquishedzims: I am so curious about their origins, how the relationship developed, how apparently they had half a handjob between them and went NOPE NEVER AGAIN, how they wound up co-sleeping, if they ever cried on one another, etc etc rollerskatinglizard: I'm 100% certain that Rich cried on Trimmer at least once, while Trimmer awkwardly patted his hair and gently called him a wuss or something If Trimmer ever cried it would've been in the middle of the night, and none of them would ever mention it in the light of day theunvanquishedzims: Was that Trimmer's first posting? I know it was Rich's, so he kiiiind of didn't know any better, but Trimmer is older by a bit rollerskatinglizard: It definitely wasn't Trimmer's first, no, the latest in a long string of postings that went from okay to bad to worse theunvanquishedzims: Oh nooooooo No wonder he finally said screw it and got a solo boat rollerskatinglizard: Yep

[monaownsmyass]

And They Were Roommates

Requested fic by anon (if you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: Queen B, (after) Chapter 13

Pairing: Zoey Wade x MC (Bea Hughes)

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G, none

Word count: 3,140

A/N: Zoey and MC have a impromptu sleepover after making up from their fight a few weeks ago. Took shorter than expected cuz I wanted to get it done today so here it is! I think this might be my fav fic of mine so far :)

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics.)

"Have you gotten the chips yet?"

"Yeah, do you have the chocolate?"

"First thing I grabbed!"

Zoey wrapped her arms around my waist from the back and rested her chin on my shoulder. Together we peered into our shopping cart, almost overflowing with snacks. Underneath was our weekly grocery but it was entirely hidden.

"Babe, this is a ridiculous amount junk food," Zoey laughs.

"I mean, it's not like we're gonna finish it in one night. We could always keep it for some other time or even throw a party or something," I protested with a smile.

"This is basically an invitation for diabetes and an aneurysm."

"I don't see you making any effort to put some back though," I challenged.

She just laughs and lets go of me as we continued making our way down the aisle.

It was past sundown and we came to the grocery store with the only intention of stocking up our fridge with groceries. However, on the way, Zoey suggested we have a 'sleepover night' since we made up even though we live together and it's been weeks since the fallout. I'm not complaining though, I thought it'd be really fun especially if it means spending more time her.

And of course I suggested on getting some snacks 'cuz what's a sleepover without 'em? But we may have went a little overboard.

We headed towards the checkout and unloaded all the items onto the conveyor belt. My phone kept going off so I pulled it out to check it. Poppy was spamming my notifications again. The bitch just won’t leave me alone.

I scrolled through the 52 messages and rolled my eyes. I turned my phone on silent then looked back to Zoey who was already paying. I helped her place all the foodstuff back into the cart. Before leaving, I caught Zoey place the tips of her outstretched fingers to her chin and then bring it forward in the direction of the cashier. The cashier returned the gesture.

Wait, did Zoey know sign language?

As we made our way out of the grocery store, I turned to Zoey. "Were you communicating in sign language to the cashier?"

"Yeah, they had hearing impairment. You know ASL too?"

I shook my head. "I mean, I only know the basics like 'yes' and 'no'. I didn't know you knew sign language."

I loved finding out new things about her. It was a pleasant surprise every time.

Zoey let out a small chuckle. "You still have lots to learn about me, babe." She gave me a mischievous look. "Which is exactly why this sleepover is vital!"

I laughed at her as we reached our car and transferred the grocery bags once again. We drove back to campus, blasting music and jamming out to it on the way. I looked over to see her singing her heart out and making exaggerated facial features while bouncing up and down. Moments like these with Zoey made me so glad I was dating my best friend. I smiled at her and joined in.

When we arrived, Zoey and I piled the groceries onto our arms, refusing to make a second trip to the car and back.

We almost made it to our dorm room when Zoey stopped dead in her tracks. I bumped into her, causing me to almost loose my balance and drop everything I was carrying. Fortunately, I managed to prevent myself from falling.

"What the hell, Zo?"

"It's here!"

"What's here?"

She was looking down so I tried to peak over her shoulder to see what she was staring at. Being taller than me, it was no use.

Finally, she stepped aside to unlock the door and I saw what she was talking about. It was a package right at our doorstep.

"What's that?"

"You'll see." She entered and placed all the food on the kitchen counter before going out to retrieve the box.

I put the bags I were carrying beside hers and followed her to the dining table where she took a knife to cut open the tape sealing the box.

"Voilà!" she exclaimed and flip the lids open in a flourish.

The object inside was still wrapped up in plastic but I could make out some fabric through the clear wrapping.

"Here, this is for you! Catch!" She tossed me a plastic bag with the fabric in it and took one for herself.

I held it up and finally figured out what it was.

"Zoey Wade, you did not!"

"But yes! I did!"

I ripped open the plastic the same time she did and we unfolded the material to show it off to the other.

"You got us matching onesies?!"

She nodded enthusiastically with the biggest, cutest grin ever.

"I got us penguins 'cuz I remember you saying you like them. Also, they're so cute! Just like us!" she said with a laugh.

I didn't even bother with a reply, I was too excited. I pulled her by the face into a kiss. Her soft lips met mine, kissing me back. It was brief but if I wasn't already giddy with excitement, I definitely was now. "Thank you, Zo!"

We quickly changed into our respective onesies and modelled for the other.

"Aww, you're the cutest penguin ever," Zoey spoke in a soft and gentle voice that made me blush.

"No, you are!" I rushed to her to embrace her in a hug. "You're so soft," I giggled into her shoulder.

"Now we know our cuddle game is gonna be strong later," she laughed along with me. "Come, we have to set up the pillow fort."

I nodded but refused to let go off her. Human Zoey was a fantastic hugger but Penguin Zoey only made it better.

"Maybe I should've gotten you a monkey onesie instead," she teased and turned her head to kiss my temple. Then, she gently pried me away. "I promise we'll continue this later."

I finally let go and we got to work, building our pillow fort in the middle of the living room. It took us longer than we'd like to admit to set up the blanket as the tent. Whenever we'd secure one side, the other would come undone. It only made us crack up harder the more often it happened.

"Okay, okay, I got this side, you go grab the other!"

I rushed to the other side and made sure it would stay in place. We cautiously let go of the blanket and backed away. To our surprise, it didn't fall.

"Yes!"

We tossed a bunch of pillows into the blanket fort and hung fairy lights all over, including inside. We switched off the main lights a took a step back to admire our handiwork. We snaked an arm around each other to side hug.

"Good job, babe," Zoey smiled, squeezing me into her.

"You too, beautiful." I gave her a peck on the cheek in reply.

"Alright, time to call for pizza now!"

"Can you do it on your phone? Poppy has been blowing up mine so I'm avoiding it at all cost."

Her eyes widen. "Still? It's been so long!"

"I know," I sighed. "I'll probably block her tomorrow or something. Tonight, it's all about you and me."

"You got that right," Zoey murmured and gave me a small kiss on the lips.

She grabs her phone and dials up the pizza place. Once she was done, she went into her room and came out holding a folded picnic blanket.

"C'mon," she said and stretched out her other hand for me to hold.

I accepted her warm hand in mine instinctively, loving the way it fits perfectly. "Where are we going? What's up with the mat?"

"The delivery guy said he couldn't come up to the dorm to deliver it. The best he can do is meet us at the courtyard. So I thought we could maybe stargaze while we wait."

My heart skipped and my breath hitched. Stargazing with Zoey? How could I say no? Who in their right mind would say no?

“In our onesies?”

“Only if you want to.”

"Of course I want to!" I blurted and immediately dragged her out the door with her chuckling at me.

At the courtyard, Zoey spread open the picnic blanket and laid it on the ground. She sat on it and reached up to grab my hand, pulling me down to sit beside her. We laid down on our backs and looked up at the sky. It was clear and the stars seemed to twinkle extra bright tonight.

Zoey's hand moved around in search of mine and interlaced our fingers together when she found it. I gave it a squeeze and smiled into the night, never felt so contented before. Just two people in penguin onesies under the night sky, holding hands.

"Do you recognise any constellations?" I asked her.

"I can't say I do, are you some kind of astronomy expert that I didn't know?"

I laughed. "No, but my dad used to point some out to me when I was a kid. He'd take me outside and we'd just sit and watch the stars."

I glanced at her and saw a small smile play on her lips. That in turn made me smile. I was sharing a meaningful, nostalgic moment with her and that sent a thrill through me. I couldn't express how grateful I was that I could share this with her.

"Tell me about them." She looked at me and then back at the starry sky.

"That one is the Ursa Major, or the Great Bear," I said softly, just loud enough for her to hear. I pointed to the sky and traced the stars with my finger. She moved in closer to me to see where I traced.

"And that’s the Big Dipper. It consists of the seven brightest stars of the Ursa Major." I continued to move my finger in the air.

It was really cute that her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she was listening but the she squinted. "That doesn't look like a bear."

I laughed again and said, "Almost every constellation doesn't look like their names, darling. You should see Corvus."

"That's a little weird."

"Why don't you go ahead and name one then," I insisted.

"Okay," she replied and pointed to the brightest star in the sky I could see. "I'm calling that Bea Hughes."

I started giggling and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach flutter furiously.

"Then that one should be called Zoey Wade." I indicated to the star that was directly beside the one she chose.

She grinned at me and I squeezed her hand once more. "Perfect."

She rolled into her side and I followed suit. Facing each other, we stared at the other for a while with our hands still interlocked. I brought my other hand up to brush the stray strands that fell in her face. I rested my hand against her cheek and gently stroked her smooth skin. She closed her eyes.

I looked at her in unabashed adoration. It wasn't the first time I was blown away by her and I was certain it wouldn't be the last time. My eyes trailed over the features of her face. She was perfection.

She opened her eyes and I gasped as a wave of emotion flooded me. My heart was beating a million miles an hour as realisation dawn on me when I gazed into her brilliant eyes.

I loved Zoey Wade.

I loved the way she tossed her head back when she laughed. I loved how her eyes lit up when she was talking about something she was passionate about. I loved the way she looked at me. I loved that she remembers the smallest things about me even when I don't recall mentioning it to her myself. I loved getting to know new things about her. I loved the way she brightens my day just by seeing her

I was in love with her.

I reacted the only way I knew how to; I pulled her into me to hug her and immediately buried my face in her neck.

"I adore you, Zo." I kissed the skin where her neck and shoulder meets.

"I adore you too."

We stayed like that in comfortable silence until we heard someone shout 'oh my god!' and footsteps coming closer.

I felt her turn her head to the source and sigh. Me with my face still in her neck whispered, "Is that the demon I hear?"

"Unfortunately."

Poppy stopped right over us and crossed her arms. I looked straight up at her and Zoey shifted to look at her too.

"This is why you've been ignoring me?!" she practically screeched. "You've been ignoring me to lie around in the middle of the lawn in stupid animal suits? With her?"

"Why? Jealous?"

She scoffed. "As if, Farmsville!"

"Shoo shoo, we're in the middle of something," Zoey said unamused while waving her hand at Poppy.

Poppy started shouting at us but we weren't paying attention any longer.

"Ughh! Fine! You will regret this!" she huffed and finally stomped away.

"Oh, just in time," I said as I saw the pizza delivery person.

We paid for our pizza and headed back up to our dorm.

Once we stepped passed the door, I heard Zoey's phone buzz and then laugh.

"What's up?"

"Check your phone."

Still on silent, I whipped out my phone and saw the notifications. My eyes widen when I saw both Zoey and I's ranking on The T increase. I scrolled through the feed and saw a picture of us from just now at the courtyard, cuddling.

"Poppy thought she could submit this and ruin us!" Zoey said between giggles. "Obviously it backfired 'cuz now everyone at Belvoire thinks we're the cutest couple on campus."

I went through the comments.

'Omg, they're so cute!' 'I didn't know they were together but they look good.' 'They're perfect for each other!' 'And they were roommates...'

I snorted and glanced over at Zoey who looked beyond ecstatic. "Suck it, Poppy!"

I laughed at her and wrapped my arms around her waist.

"Y'know, we do make a pretty cute couple."

"Only 'pretty cute'?" Zoey teased and returned my hug. "We're fricken' adorable!"

I brought her in for a kiss and she grabbed onto me a little tighter. One hand was on the back of my neck and the other went around my waist, gripping it. The way she kissed me was electric. Surges of energy ran through my veins, making me come alive. The passion and yearning poured into the kiss made me breathless. Being in love with her only amplified the feeling.

Zoey broke the kiss, panting but mostly laughing.

"Sorry, babe," she said, trying to catch her breath. "I just remembered we're both in penguin onesies."

I broke into a fit of giggles. God, I loved this girl.

"Damn right we are," I confirmed, beaming. "Must look pretty ridiculous but it's sure as hell comfy."

Zoey grinned back at me and grabbed my hand to lead me into the pillow fort. We took the pizza with us along with a bottle of wine.

"Cheers!" We clinked glasses and took a swig after she poured some out.

Even though we had a TV in the living room, Zoey brought out her laptop 'cuz our pillow fort was blocking it. She set it up and started playing 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'.

I turned to Zoey. "How did you know this was my favourite classic?"

"Who doesn't love a good Hepburn movie once in a while?"

We dug into the pizza while enjoying our wine. After we were done, we got into a comfortable position. She laid back, propping her head up using the pillows as I laid my head on her chest, arms wrapped around each other as well as our legs. Some of the snacks we got earlier surrounded us for easy access. She was right, cuddling with the onesies was on a whole other level.

"Can we just stay like this, forever?"

"I'd love to but I think we have other obligations," she joked.

"Can we at least do this every weekend then? Penguin onesies, pillow forts and all?"

"Sounds good to me."

The movie continued and eventually, Holly Golightly started singing 'Moon River'. I heard Zoey singing along softly.

'Moon river, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style someday.'

I gazed up at her and she looked back at me, still singing.

'Oh dream maker, you heartbreaker, Wherever you're going, I'm going your way.'

Mesmerised by the beautiful sound of her voice, I just stared at her in wonderment while she sang the rest of the song.

"You're unreal," I spoke in amazement when she was done.

She giggled and kissed my forehead. "That's you, darling."

I laid her head back onto her chest and listened to the gentle thump in her chest as the movie carried on. A while later, I looked up to peer at Zoey only to find her eyes closed.

She must have fallen asleep. Thinking back to my recent revelation when we were stargazing, I started speaking quietly, just above a whisper. I couldn't hold it in.

"You probably can't hear me, but I have to get something off of my chest," I said. "Kinda funny that were in penguin onesies. 'Cuz penguins mate for life. Not that I'm saying we'll be together for the rest of our lives even though I really hope we do."

I exhaled slowly and continued, "What I mean is that, after the whole situation at the Zeta's, I thought I lost you for good. I can't tell you how lucky I am that you're giving me a second chance. We're in this together and I mean it. I'll always be by your side no matter what."

I closed me eyes. She may not hear this part in person but I hope she hears it in her dreams. "What I'm trying to say... what I'm saying is that, I love you, Zo."

Instantly, I could hear her heart begin to pound rapidly. My eyes shot open as butterflies invaded my stomach. Did she hear me?

I felt her hand that was resting my my thigh twitch. I look down to see the barest movement of her fingers. Her ring and middle finger down while the rest were stretched out.

My own heart started racing in recognition. One of the only signs I knew.

I love you.

I squeezed her, hugging her tighter to let her know I saw it. I felt her tighten her hold on me in response.

We drifted off to sleep in each other's embrace with me being lulled by her heartbeat, knowing that my love loved me back.

(More fics!)

[sweetsoundsofignorance]

Currently running around bugging people and I want to know your thoughts on this: if you had full creative control of the show, how would you run season 5? You can pick and choose whatever leaks you want to include.

Thank you for the ask! 💕 A very fun exercise, and there has been some excellent speculation from the fandom. I’ve enjoyed reading everyone’s takes on it that I’m almost inclined to create bingo cards out of everyone’s nuttier speculations and play Riverdale batshit bingo for the season, a la Cabin the Woods.

I should say Riverdale speculation and leaks can leave me feeling overwhelmed at times, so I drift in and out when they are circling. Therefore, this rant is limited to the leaks/speculation/trailer gifs I have seen or heard about because I have no self-control. I’ve also not seen 4x17 or 4x18 (though I feel like I have through a mishmash of so many GIFs and recaps and speculations). In my mind, 4x17 is just *insert gif of Betty standing in the middle of the woods holding a bloody rock* Atm, no one knows how we got there.

Given the beginning of season five will be the tail-end of season four, perhaps start there? This got away from me, so it’s under the cut.

I imagine they will close four with the reveal of the voyeur and Chic/Charles plotline (with Riverdale you never know where they’re going to be selectively sloppy). In that case, I have fully adopted the following speculation/serenity prayer: see @sullypants theory here. It’s the perfect level of batshit Riverdale and it’s consistent with the hypnosis (cannot keep a straight face just typing it) plotline. I know, consistent and Riverdale should never be in the same sentence without some negative participle in between. So, that “cleans up” the Bughead infidelity but leaves Varchie in the weeds (sigh). It would ex out Charles/Chic. The fallout would break up Falice, possibly.

 FP gets busted for all the shady shit he’s done as sheriff and has to flee the country, so hi, Canada, but no wrestle mania with the grizzly bears this time. Or he gets eaten by a bear. I don’t care.

 Veronica gains some self-agency and leaves for college. Though I want her to get out from under her father, loyalty to family is so engrained with the Lodges that I don’t see it happening. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Hiram’s terminal illness kills him. If Toni and Cheryl break up, Cheronica may happen through their rum business, which takes off. I would not be remiss if Cheryl and Veroncia were endgame, but I know it won’t shake out like that, so. Also, if it is hypnosis, I hope Veronica and Betty would still be friends long-distance.

 Toni takes the reins for the Southside, ends the rampant Serpent misogyny, actually makes the neighborhood a safe space for the residents, and works to end the cycle of poverty. She manages the White Wyrm, and yes, there are still strippers because nothing wrong with that, but the Serpent Dance is barely a footnote. I am curious if they will shoot around Vanessa’s pregnancy, but if they incorporate it into the show, I would not be against Cheryl and Toni having a child together. If they did not break up.

 For Jughead, he got his MFA at Iowa, but in true millennial fashion, never made it past that (for a great fic on the plight of the underemployed over-educated millennial see @imreallyloveleee head underwater). He might have written a first novel that was semi-popular, received a few good reviews but overall lambasted by the bigger names. Head canon is that it becomes a cult classic in later years, perhaps a screenplay. Hard forever no to him being an alcoholic, but I can see some Sideways-level angst dealing with trying to get over writer’s block (plus anxiety block based on the mediocre success of his first) for his next novel and some bitterness about his first novel, which may be the driving wedge between Jughead and whoever ends up being his SO in this scenario.

 Jughead as an English teacher gels for me. I’ve written him as an English teacher. I like reading him as an English Teacher (*cough* *cough* @geekspen). Though they flopped with the Jug and Jellybean relationship in season four, I always imagined Jughead from season one and that brief moment in season three as a very present and considerate big brother type. Based on those brief interactions we have gotten, I would believe Jughead is good with kids, especially teenagers. He’s had experience dealing with dumbass adolescents, i.e. the Serpents, and (kind of) keeping them in line, mainly by out-extra-ing the morons (see declaring himself gamemaster by ordering Cheryl to shoot an arrow through a can on his head). I see him being that curmudgeonly teacher that gets along with those grab-bag students on the edge of committing a crime out of sheer boredom who linger in their English teacher’s classrooms during lunch and after school (that’s how we started our creative writing club in high school), and that leads me to a head-canon about him starting, yes, a creative writing club or running the Blue and Gold. I love full-circle shit like that. I think he would be an objectively bad teacher but a very good one in the context of Riverdale, if that makes sense.

 Bughead long distance did not pan out, and Betty being Betty immersed herself in her career – degree in criminal psychology, BSU at the FBI, the whole shebang. Reports of a giant man with red eyes and wings seen in the vicinity of places where people are disappearing. FBI!Betty investigates these at her alma mater until one happens in Riverdale, which drags her investigation thattaway.

 Veronica is unhappy with her SO for whatever reason (not exactly jazzed about her being with a douche but ok). She is successful but wistful. Her father dies. She uses it as an excuse to break up with her SO and return to Riverdale to help her mother manage the estate. Because Veronica is successful in her own right, most of the estate goes to her mother and Hermosa. She returns to Pop’s one night for nostalgia’s sake. She signed the diner back over to Tate years ago.

 Jughead is there struggling to write after a fight with his SO.

 Side note: I don’t like love triangles. Even less, I don’t like setups for more infidelity, even if it would lead to my ship ending up together. I understand that is often the reality (I’ve witnessed it), but I think it is bad writing. So, for any of the core four’s respective SOs, please no cheating on them. Break it off. Learn from your mistakes. Therefore, Jughead soon breaks up with his SO after meeting Veronica in Pop’s.

 Veronica sits with him. Cue some reminiscing. Perhaps the mystery starts in the speakeasy, of which Veronica is still the partial owner. This connects Betty and Veronica down the road. Because Jughead witnessed it, Betty crosses paths with him.

 Initially, Betty is reticent to let Jughead get involved with her investigation. However, Jughead is just as obsessed with the mystery (because he’s him), so they keep running into each other. He gets in the way a few times (more tension). Eventually, Jughead ends up discovering some important piece of evidence that Betty needs, so she gives in. Before he joins her investigation, he may be keeping his own personal murder board in the Blue and Gold at school after hours… Lots of sexual tension. I’d even be down for friends with benefits because *insert gif of Donna accusing Betty of being addicted to Jug’s vitamin D*. But Betty knows she isn’t going to stay in Riverdale and they’ve already tried and failed long-distance, so she keeps putting on the brakes. Jughead starts to get his writing mojo back, too, because I will never not believe Betty is his muse.

 Archie. Oh Archie. Deployed overseas for a time, though I cannot stand the idea of giving this kid anymore PTSD. He returns, and for a while, spends most of his time alone at the old gym and in the Andrews home. His old army buddy shows up out of work. He works with Toni to create a real community center for the Southside youth because I enjoyed that poorly executed plotline in season four. This also gives his army buddy a job. His army buddy is from New Haven, so he ends up being a Mothman suspect, given it started at Betty’s alma mater.

 Through his work with Toni, he gets dragged into Jughead’s orbit. Maybe they both try to reactivate the community center’s big brother program together. It’s just very difficult for me to imagine Jughead accepting/forgiving Archie, and though I cannot imagine how they would resolve it, I would like to see it.

[unsettledink]

A while back I made up a list of fics I had ideas for/wanted to write, mostly to try and drum up bids for Marvel Trumps Hate.

Since then I have, of course, had approximately five million new ideas and keeping track of them has gotten a bit out of hand, so i thought I’d try and put them all in one place that I could come back to and also update more easily. Also possibly some sort of... accountability thing? Like if I put them out into the universe I’m more likely to actually write them? Well I can dream.

There’s going to be a couple of these, divided up by pairings. Feel free to ignore, it’s mostly housekeeping!

(This one’s just for starker and polystarker ideas.)

I’m kind of grouping these because it got long. (Smut, smut + feels, fluff, oh no the sads)

* for new ideas (ARG)

Just the smut! (Ok some feels):

Continuation of Hang Up – so what does happen the next morning after that phone call? (Sex. Probably more phone sex.)

*Pocket Change sequel – Why yes, Peter, you can work out some sort of retroactive deal to 'pay' for the suits...

Peter is dumb online – Peter decides to auction off his virginity online. Of course Tony finds out immediately. Of course Tony buys it to keep Peter from getting hurt. Of course Tony decides to meet up and teach Peter a lesson about being safe – wait. That might have been a mistake. (It’s not.)

Actually, Peter doesn’t like it rough – miscommunication piled on top of miscommunication because they’re both idiots who are desperate for each other, until a tipping point is reached. Happy ending! Fluffy ending!

Gag reflex training – pretty much what it sounds like. Tony having a lot of fun with Peter; messy, noisy, hopefully hot.

Experienced Peter – Peter hasn’t been waiting around for Tony to be the first, and he’s had time to figure out some of his preferences. Like topping almost exclusively, among other things. Hey I kind of wrote this!

Civil War pick me up – after the airport, Tony goes to check on Peter and is in desperate need of something nice. Peter really, really wants to be that something nice. Could be underage, could be not.

Continuation of Gift Wrapped – (Peter/Tony/Pepper) there’s a lot more sex happening for Tony’s birthday than I had time to write for kinktober.

But you want me to be safe, don’t you? - Peter’s hit with sex pollen, but it can be taken care of without outside help. Peter would still really like it if Tony would help. Or would at least keep an eye on him. Or at least stay in hearing range! He won’t be able to resist if Peter’s noisy and saying his name while he gets off, right???

Armor Kink - I mean, basically what it says on the tin. Peter’s been having fantasies about the armor forever. Tony is absolutely willing to help him with that.

ABO forced presentation – Peter doesn’t know what he’ll end up being, and that’s bad for Reasons. He convinces Tony try forcing a presentation (not noncon type forcing) and things get weird. Playing around with the idea of how non-binary might go in ABO. Possible Tony/Peter/Pepper endship. More than likely somewhat underage.

Avengers orgy – Peter’s finally old enough to join in the tradition! While he’s having fun with everyone, Peter and Tony keep gravitating to each other, winding up with things getting a little too emotional when Tony finally gets his chance. Potential for Tony/Peter/Rhodey endship.

The spider bite did what?!? - Peter starts having really weird cravings when he’s around Tony. Weird as in blood, and Tony is going to help him figure this out. Even when it turns into a craving for sex (and bloodplay). Even when it turns into terrifying (for Peter) egg/medical kink.

*Hooker D/S AU Brat!Peter – Tony orders 'the brattiest sub you have' and gets Peter. Who is incredibly so, and Tony is actually delighted by this. And Peter is a little taken aback that someone likes this rather than considering him a bad sub.

*Flaunt follow up – more Peter/Tony/Rhodey D/S AU? Yup!

*No, I'm saving YOU – villains of the week catch them and plan on gangbanging Peter – until Tony offers to be willing if they leave Peter alone. At some point Peter comes around and tries to bargain for them to use him instead of Tony. Tony is not happy about this, but boy, the villains are!

*Peter/Harley/Tony - Tony’s so glad Peter’s over that crush and happy with Harley. Really. Totally. Meanwhile, Peter & Harley are doing their best to get Tony into bed with them and growing increasingly frustrated with Tony’s (intentional) obliviousness.

*

Smut! Oh wait, where did all these feelings come from?:

Toybox – slightly darker Peter decides if Tony won’t fuck him, the least Tony can do is pay for Peter’s toys, and watch while Peter enjoys them. No touching allowed since Tony doesn’t want him, after all. Which is a rule that gets harder and harder to keep in place; feelings, so many feelings everywhere.

Pain kink Peter – what it says on the tin, lol. “Oh Mr. Stark, maybe you should supervise this slightly dangerous sex thing I like.” I think we can guess where it heads from there.

Baby's first D/S (dom version) – established T/P, Tony's subby but hasn't brought it up. Peter is like, 'but what if I was into the idea of doming?' and they start messing around with it. Peter is Very Earnest and learning all these new things, and Tony is surprised to find, after a while, Peter's doing pretty good on his own.

Call boy Peter – what it sounds like! It’s an accident that Tony gets him; good thing Peter was blindfolded! Bad thing that Peter’s senses are enhanced and he knows from the start who it is. Good thing that Peter’s not going to say anything so he can keep this reliable customer?

Evil Ex D/S verse – Peter’s pretty insecure about being a good sub for Tony and it’s not helped at all when one of Tony’s ex subs tells him he’ll never be able to take what Tony wants to dish out. Well, Peter’s going to prove him wrong! Tony really doesn’t understand why Peter is making himself miserable for something Tony doesn’t even want, and things almost break before they get fixed.

*Besties and Omegas and Peter's – Rhodey and Tony (both omegas) end up in an awkward situation when Peter has something like an enhanced rut around them. Slightly complicated dynamics but happy ending for everyone.

*Outraged owned Peter – some sort of slave type au where Obie buys Peter for Tony as a companion, considering Peter to be a distraction and possible spy. Tony does not want a sex slave and rejects him, and Peter is furious – he is not just for sex, he is literally worth his weight in gold, and how DARE Tony not want him!

*Very dark Peter - Peter’s decided he really likes having Tony completely wrapped around his little finger. To the point of getting Tony to give him/do things that are pretty far from acceptable, and then Peter figures out he likes showing off his hold over Tony even more. Oops.

*

Fluff! (Crap there’s not much):

Follow up to Seiche – mostly fluffy 5 times +1 where the emotion sensing bond causes (minor) problems

Fluffy D/S verse – all the fluff! All the outside POV! Everyone assumes that obviously Tony is a dom; after all, that’s how he’s always presented himself. Everyone is wroooooong. Tony’s never been happier.

Nail polish – little bit of Tony finding it incredibly appealing when Peter wears nail polish

*Lingerie shorts – several vignettes of them getting each other and wearing different interesting pieces of lingerie

*

Oh No + all the feelings, heavy on the bad ones:

Soulmark AU – Tony finds out first and isn’t going to do anything due to the age difference. Peter finds out and thinks that’s bullshit + horribly hurt that he’s being rejected. Things are forced when Peter gets hit with a drug that messes with that bond and they both have to figure out how things are going to go. Possible bittersweet ending.

Screw soulmates, actually - Post CW and Tony dealing with soulmate rejection (that’s a WHOLE other fic). Peter’s become convinced Tony’s a blank like him, and then doesn’t understand why Tony’s soulmate wouldn’t want him. Peter does! They get their happy ever after without being fated for each other, and Peter gets a chance to tells Tony’s soulmate what a dick they are. All the satisfaction!

*Blanks are Bad – soulmark au where blanks are regarded extremely poorly, and Tony is exposed as one. Lots of dealing with the ugly fallout, and Peter coming to Tony and confessing he's a blank too and has been so scared.

Untenable – sequel to Indefensible and … horrible. The ABO underage incest continues, Tony hates himself, Peter is distressingly happy. Mpreg makes everything ten times worse; endgame makes everything 100 times worse. Going beyond that would be spoilery, but uh. Everything becomes 1000 times worse by the end! Yay! Yikes.

*Made For It follow ups (aka the... happy version of Indefensible??) - we want to actually see the sex scene they talk about doing, right? Right. And possibly some mpreg? We shall see.

ABO accidental bonding – the worst abo version, heads up. Underage Peter, omegas are treated very poorly, Peter and Tony don’t know each other beforehand and don’t do great getting to know each other afterwards. Biology continues to fuck Peter over, and Tony really doesn’t get how desperately Peter wants Tony to like him. Mountains and mountains of angst and sad before the happy ending.

Copy - After IW, Tony makes a Peter clone/android/whatever. Unfortunately, it just makes things worse because it’s just enough off to make it super obvious it’s not Peter. And fake!Peter knows it too. He’s just enough like real Peter to fall in love with Tony too, and he can’t figure out how to make Tony care about him instead of real, dead Peter. Not that it matters when he snap is reversed (Tony lives) and fake!Peter isn’t needed or wanted anymore. (Will probably have a sequel where real Peter finds out about all this, probably happy ending for everyone.)

Nothing sticks around - years after the blip, Peter discovers Tony, alive - only Tony has none of his memories. Tony doesn’t want anything to do with these people Peter tries to reintroduce him to; he trusts Peter and wants to stay with him. And does, for quite some time, things turning into a relationship, and even if Peter feels guilty about it, he’s happy. Right up until Tony suddenly remembers everything … except what’s been going on the last few years with Peter. Undecided if there’s a happy ending or not.

I hate time travel - once Tony figures out time travel, he decides he needs to find out if this works by hopping forward and seeing if Peter is back. And then maybe he should hop forward a little more just to check on him. Keeps doing this, about once a year, and while Peter is so glad to see him, it’s destroying Peter to basically go through Tony ‘dying’ over and over. Pretty soon it’s fucking up Tony too, after he accidentally shows up when Peter’s in the middle of sex. Very bittersweet ending to maintain the timeline.

Fuck you, Beck - Beck goes about getting the glasses in the worst ways, and Peter finds out a little too late - way too late when it comes to sleeping with him. Not that he’s going to ever tell anyone about that. Not even Tony, when Tony comes back. Not even Tony, when it turns out Tony is interested. Okay, maybe he’ll have to tell Tony when Peter’s reactions to sex become a problem. Happy ending but lots of ouch on the way.

Sequel to Dormant - so what exactly does Tony notice the morning after? And what exactly does Peter do about it? (Spoiler: A lot more than Peter thought he would, and nothing good.)

Don’t punish people like that – as much Tony/Obie as Tony/Peter, maybe pre-Tony/Peter. Obie decided to deal with Tony’s wild streak by punishing him in an especially awful, painful, dehumanizing, sexual way. Tony’s managed to handle how awful that was by pretending it was helpful (nope!). When Peter will not stop misbehaving, the last resort Tony can think of is what was done to him. It helped, right? (He can’t bring himself to in the end, which sets off a cascading failure of repressed trauma, woot!)

*That's rape, Tony – Tony getting drugged, gangbanged, and recorded, and then having part of it released that looks consensual. Tony doesn't remember enough to say it wasn't, and with his history, people don't question it. It goes over very poorly and he's handling all the parts of it very poorly, and Peter is the one to finally put the pieces together.

Sex Pollen Non-Con – Tony’s hit with some sort of fuck or die stuff; only problem is that he 100% refuses to let Peter do anything, and there’s no one else. Peter, convinced that Tony’s going to die, stops giving Tony a choice. What’s that, the trauma Tony was hoping to spare him is replaced with way worse trauma from basically raping Tony? WHOOPS. (Probably happy ending!)

Secondhand verse – following after this, things growing steadily worse, hotter, and more complex between Peter, Beck, and Tony. Bad decisions all around! Unexpected feelings all around! General unhappiness at having feelings that can be hurt all around! Probably a series of fics.

12:00 - follow up to 11:59, Tony and Peter finally getting it on and Beck being an ass in the background. Also the prequel that’s primarily Peter/Quentin, and possibly a sequel where Tony decides that maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, watching Beck fuck Peter - and Peter liked it, right? Everyone’s down for a totally uncomplicated round two, right? Or three, or four...

(And feel free to talk to me about anything here, I love an excuse to ramble. Also, if something grabs your attention, have fun writing it - the more the merrier!)

[otterintheflightdeck]

For the writing asks: 1, 3, 17 and/or 20, please and thank you! :D

Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Ohhh boy. I have two:

- Mass Effect Andromeda fic: A Ryder/Avitus thing that started mostly as an excuse to try my hand at writing alien porn, but it turns out those characters are pretty much my usual kind of emotionally repressed sad sacks, so I couldn’t resist having them be very soft and fall in love with each other. 🙄 Progress has been nonexistent for a very long time -- I have 95% of a chapter written and I just need to finish up one sex scene. I picked it up again recently, so there’s hope! I like the actual conclusion I have planned for that story. I think it ties up a few loose ends from the game and explores the pathfinders’ relationships with their SAMs in an interesting way. Now I just need to actually get to that ending.

- Geralt/Emhyr “undercover as a couple” fic, which is mostly an excuse to write about those two pawing at each other. There’s so much humor to be found in the contrast between Emhyr being a Repressed Fancy Man and Geralt being, well, Geralt. I’m probably about 80% done with this one, but I’ve faltered a bit because I’ve reached the point where something actually needs to happen with the plot, heh. My favorite thing about it is this running joke where Emhyr goes on and on about very fancy things he likes, and Geralt reacts with equal parts horniness and exasperation. It’s better than it sounds.

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

So... I WILL one day be arsed to write this, but. My one personal writing project is this mystery set in Ancient Egypt, kind of an alternative take on the post-Akhenaten era. I want to explore what could have happened if Tut had died earlier, during the coup that killed most of his family, and his sister had become Pharaoh instead of having to marry him. Except with a dash of Lovecraftian horror and a conspiracy to dethrone her. :>

The protags aren’t set in stone, but tentatively it’d be a medjay who’s part of the Pharaoh’s personal guard and a young scribe who gets yanked into the whole situation because he’s in the right place at the right time and can read/write. I’ve had two specific scenes in my head forever: One where the two protags are camping out in the desert (running away from bad guys) and discussing religion, with the medjay unexpectedly having a very pragmatic/cynical view of it because of what he’s heard at court and seen at Akhetaten, and the scribe being much more naive and a true believer, partly due to learning his profession at a temple. (Spoiler alert: they fall in love and are soft. Yes, shocking.)

The second scene features Ai, the guy who became vizir after Akhenaten was killed, taking Akhenaten’s daughter to her grandfather’s unfinished temple complex to the old gods and giving her the “let’s bring Egypt back to its former glory by bringing back the old gods” spiel (which is basically what happened IRL and why Tutankhaten changed his name to Tutankhamun - and considering how young he was at the time, I’m gonna say it probably wasn’t his idea or his choice). Aaanyway, this little girl is like “nah”, has Ai killed on the spot, and sails back to Thebes with his corpse hanging from the front of her ship as a warning to leave her the fuck alone and let her rule on her own. I just love the idea of a girl Pharaoh who’s outwardly badass but terrified inside and still full of affection for her family and the god she grew up worshipping, despite huge political pressure to pretend otherwise.

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

This is such an interesting question. I think I am much, much less romantic than my writing makes me seem. The words that come up most often in the comments I get are, like, “soft” and “gentle”, but I’m a pretty acerbic, logically-minded person, and when I write about all of those men being Soft with each other, I’m not really sitting there wibbling and feeling those emotions, you know? Writing is a very calculated, detached endeavor for me. I like staring at a sentence and puzzling out exactly which words or phrasing will elicit exactly the reaction I’m looking for from my readers. So while bits and pieces of myself do make their way into my writing, I think I’m more detached from it than people probably imagine.

Writing about Ryder has been a challenge for me for that reason. He’s a blank-slate character that’s meant to be customized by players, but I don’t really have a strong attachment or feel any particular kind of way about him. I know a lot of people develop very specific headcanons about that type of game protagonist (Ryder, the Inquisitor, etc.), but I mostly just watch the cut scenes a lot, listen to the way the character speaks and try to tease out some kind of personality that makes sense out of it. I find that less interesting than taking a fully-developed, static character and trying to write them faithfully, so that’s why you won’t see a lot of Mass Effect/Dragon Age/Skyrim/Fallout/whatever fic from me regardless of how much I like playing those games. Though I will say that the Cyberpunk 2077 protagonist has piqued my interest, so I might give that a whirl eventually.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Ohhh, I’ve told you about this, but there’s this tiny thing in The Plight of the Elves: Iorveth finds an ancient elven book at some point, and the assumption is that it’s something important having to do with the restoration work he’s doing, but Geralt finds out it’s actually a recipe book. HOWEVER, it’s not exactly a recipe book, it’s a “how to run a household” book intended for newly-married women. Pretty much an ancient elven version of Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management. 

I was going to explicitly mention this at some point, but in the end Geralt didn’t find out and it wasn’t important enough to work in. I just like the idea that Iorveth would be very keenly aware of the irony, would hate that he likes it, and would rather die 500 times over than breathe a single fucking word to Geralt about the actual nature of the book.

I had a blast rambling about all this, thank you for asking. <333

[winrene]

wenrene fanfic masterpost

(last updated 15/07/2020)

(these are all from ao3, i can try and make one from aff too if anyone wants it, but i don’t really read on there) 

Completed

let's get away tonight by daybreaking - “you should really stop showing up like this,” joohyun reprimands, wry and dry, but her hands are reaching out to take the spare helmet anyways. “my parents will know about it someday.” seungwan just grins under her helmet, cheeks full and pressing against the insides of it. she pats the space behind her on the motorcycle. “yeah, someday.”

oneshot, 3,341 words, highschool au

i'll be your naughty girl & i got to have ya babe by throwaway18 - seungwan thinks joohyun is too much of a prude to be able to beat her in a dance-off. and joohyun is certain she's the only person capable of getting into seungwan's nerves.

oneshot, 6,800 words, dancer/rivals au

much ado about nothing by numot94 (futureplans) - seungwan's front-door neighbour is the most beautiful woman she's ever seen, and one day she'll definitely work up the courage to ask her out. in the meantime, though, she'd be happy to get through a conversation without embarrassing herself.

39 chapters, 180,319 words, neighbour au (this is simply gorgeous, one of the best wenrene fics of all time in my opinion, again highly suggest reading their other wenrene fics)

tell me why my gods look like you (and tell me why it’s wrong) by irwens - joohyun waits tables. seungwan is a cook. they work at the same restaurant.

oneshot, 3,333 words, restauraunt au

when you move, i'm moved by birdii (birdmint) - when you're an idol dating a ballet dancer, finding time to appreciate each other is difficult. seungwan and joohyun do their best.

oneshot, 2,195 words, ballet/solo-artist au

playing pretend by xpenguinqueenx - yeri needs a fake girlfriend to meet her parents, and wendy agrees to fill the spot, but mostly because she wants to eat her yogurt in peace. irene is not enthusiastic about their new 'relationship.'

oneshot, 10,026 words, ordinary-life au

this structure fell about our feet (and we were free to go) by redcapesarecoming - the seven times irene and wendy met in an airport

oneshot, 4,740 words, airport au

recessional by birdii (birdmint) - seungwan calls joohyun for a ride to the airport. it's the first joohyun has heard from her in five years.

oneshot, 4,045 words, modern au

rain will make the flowers grow by 8moons2stars - after red velvet splits up, joohyun and seungwan find each other again.

5 chapters, 5,334 words, canon-divergence au (highly suggest reading this author’s other wenrene fics too)

death of the author by numot94 (futureplans) - all seungwan wanted was to escape reality at least for a little while and go live in some fairy tale where everything goes right and everybody’s happy. still, she didn’t expect it to actually happen! now that she’s found herself in the fairy tale kingdom overnight, she’ll do her best to keep the story on track and make sure princess joohyun gets her happily ever after with the prince. of course, nothing is ever that simple, is it?

11 chapters, 35,134 words, fantasy au

the purity club by changdeol - joohyun bae is the president of their school's christian union who thinks she has all the answers. seungwan son proves her wrong.

37 chapters, 152,278 words, highschool au

sweet like honey by hyunsvelvet - son seungwan is in desperate need of a job. when she gets hired as the new secretary for up and coming forensic lawyer bae joohyun, who has developed a habit of firing secretaries, she's determined to keep this job. she pictured joohyun to be cold and distant, but upon meeting her seungwan can't help but notice her warm personality and begins to wonder how she's the same person known for firing secretaries after hiring them just weeks before.

25 chapters, 48,900 words, lawyer au

and i could see for miles, miles, miles by jisooosname - based off of the prompt: in which joohyun runs an advice podcast show and one day, seulgi asks for her advice and she gives an advice so bad that seungwan hunts her down

oneshot, 5,547 words, college radio-host au (fluff and good feelings all around, a very adorable read)

never mind your bleeding heart by numot94 (futureplans) - the first time seungwan saw joohyun, she’d just turned 13 and the older girl was 14, a few weeks away from her birthday. she fell in love instantly.

3 chapters, 32,742 words, childhood au (yes yes i know another numot fic, but god their writing is amazing i can’t help but suggest it cause i just love everything they write)

hey jealousy by fated_addiction - "you know they're not dating." or when wendy struggles with definitions.

oneshot, 1188 words, canon au (i have a thing for this author’s introspective writing. it’s like a drug, also i’m a sucker for lowercase. highly suggest their semicolon and check one series)

a kiss (to build a dream on) by seungvvannie (galaxygerbil) - there are other things and other people that should fill up Irene’s time, but maybe… maybe just for now, it can be her in Irene’s heart. just her on irene’s mind. everything else can wait until tomorrow. wendy just wants tonight.

oneshot, 3,845 words, fallout au

pisces by espressochoreom - in which a 24-year-old joohyun is at a laundromat on a gloomy tuesday morning when she recognizes someone across her washer. it's none other than the girl who had her earnestly question her sexuality in high school—son seungwan. the last time joohyun heard from her was six years ago, months after they graduated from high school, when she told her that she was planning to move and stay in canada for good. but of course, that's not the case anymore. seungwan happens to be in the same laundromat building, and from there they attempt to catch up where they left off. the awkwardness is so consistent; it's laughable.

oneshot, 2,447 words, laundromat au (kinda)

vague hope by beatosuffers - irene only knows one thing: emotions are prohibited.

oneshot, 6,475 words, nier:automata au

yesterday, today, tomorrow by sparksfly7 - there are two new girls this year. one is tall and round-cheeked and sweet-looking. the other one – from canada, with her collection of instruments and powerhouse voice – won’t leave irene alone.

oneshot, 2,796 words, canon au

let it shine by sparksfly7 - “it’s just – i planned to talk more, to give people a good impression, but…” irene trails off, clearly frustrated. “i don’t know.” she drops her head, her hair falling over her face. even the pink streaks in it look duller, as if her mood has washed out the dye. “there was nothing wrong with how you acted.” wendy sits down next to her on the bed. “being quiet isn’t a bad thing.”

oneshot, 2,064 words, canon au

see you soon by leirskald - seungwan tries to be okay with everyone leaving for the new year's holiday, but it's hard when she's the one left behind.

oneshot, 1,237 words, canon au

trust these butterflies by rosybutterflies - the circus just isn't that fascinating for irene bae anymore, having been in it since she was young. but the butterflies in her stomach tell her otherwise every time she's with one of the newbies, son seungwan.

2 chapters, 17,527 words, circus au

in her eyes by blkvelvets - now is definitely not the time to get hooked on a dumb freshman with a smile that could light up planets.

oneshot, 2,387 words, highschool au

i wanna come home to you by newboldtrue - irene says, “thanks for not thinking i’m a serial killer. i guess.” “thanks for letting me throw up the worst new year’s eve of my life in your apartment,” room 53 returns, and irene cracks a tiny smile at that. or, irene doesn't know her upstairs neighbor, really, but it's 5am and she won't stop ringing the doorbell;

oneshot, 1,599 words, neighbours au

the scent of you by ashensprites - seungwan, a private investigator, is hired to find a child who went missing almost 15 years ago.

16 chapters, 38,253 words, private investigator au

the downfalls of procrastination by lovelines (alliwantisthetruth) - fun fact #1 : seungwan has exactly 3 midterms coming up this week. fun fact #2 : seungwan has not started to study for any of her midterms. fun fact #3 : joohyun might kill her before she has the chance to sink her gpa. college au where seungwan is a smart but hot mess(TM) and joohyun cannot tolerate messes but for her, she does. somewhat.

oneshot, 1,413 words, university au

close your eyes, see through mine by sindubu - "her name is joohyun, and if that were the case...." her heel comes up to rub at the bridge of her nose. "why is she even here?" junior shrugs. "the intricacies of repressed lesbianism, my young, sapphic friend, is shockingly not in my field of expertise."

4 chapters, 9,070 words, conversion therapy au

feel my heart come undone by sindubu - wendy is homesick.

oneshot, 1,390 words, canon au

Ongoing

i’m different by throwaway18 - when wendy returns to seoul, being mistaken as a homeless person has been far from her expectations.

6/? chapters, 27,871 enemies to lovers/baker au

my heart and this night (makes this game flicker) by daybreaking - seungwan just got dumped and her roommate is trying to make her feel better by playing cards with her, but she just keeps winning and whispering, "sorry."

4/? chapters, 33,782, university au (an absolute favourite of a fic, it is so so good)

colored out the line by baechuzz - it’s been a while since joohyun had seen sooyoung blooming with happiness and love since her soulmate died. so when joohyun met wendy for the first time and during their handshake, a little dandelion blossomed on her wrist—she decided not to say a word and step back on the sidelines. even if wendy was her soulmate.

4/5 chapters, 27,628 words, soulmate au

somebody wants you by winterbreath - wendy doesn’t need anybody to tell her that this is a bad idea but she needs something to draw attention to the coffee shop; and irene needs a pretend-girlfriend. except Irene is a brat—and can someone please just send wendy to hell.

12/? chapters, 71,840 words, fake/pretend relationship au (another one i love a lot, definitely suggest reading this author’s other fic too, especially their all this love series)

shared space by sapphicirene - seungwan needs a new roommate, and joohyun is searching for an apartment. joohyun wonders if it's bad luck or fate that draws her back to seungwan after all these years.

4/? chapters, 11,259 words, college au (i’m not going to lie, this hasn’t been updated since 2018-12, but the chapters that are written are very lovely, so i think it’s worth a look!)

tea party for two by scarletstring - as a veteran female escort, wendy expects to be between the sheets, receive her pay, and then leave -- all within the hour. but wendy can't tell if this particular client knew that when she was spending her time preparing her tea instead of telling her to take her clothes off.

8/? chapters, 114,713 words, female escort au

noisy thoughts by scarletstring - irene moves in to her new apartment, where she meets her interesting roommate.

15/? chapters, 172,654 words, college au (scarlet is currently on hiatus, but their fics are one of the best things you could read)

just my cover, sweetheart by newboldtrue - wendy threw a disbelieving glance at the woman in her passenger seat. “have i had lunch? i just attended my own funeral, haven’t much been in the mood for eating.” or, son seungwan is leaving her life as a hitman in the past--but when a dead woman criticizes her epitaph and offers her one last job, she finds herself agreeing to help. wendy isn't quite sure what she's signed herself up for.

6/? chapters, 14,319 words, 1950s hitman au (hasn’t been updated in AGES, since 2018-08, but it is honestly a really worthwhile read)

[victorluvsalice]

Fic Resolutions For 2021

Hi all! It’s a new year (FINALLY), and while one must acknowledge that we’re unfortunately not out of the woods with all the bullshit yet, it’s still traditionally a time to set a few goals for the upcoming year! Even if the goals are just “survive and try not to break down entirely.” *nods*

As it stands, I would like to make a few more specific goals for my writing, as I do every year. So, for 2021, my plans are:

1. Finish and post “In A World Of His Own,” the Forgotten Vows Verse “Victor and Alice explores Victor’s Otherland” fic: This was something I’d planned to do last year, but -- shit happened. Plus I got distracted trying to do the “guide to magic” fic, which ended up petering out when I couldn’t get it to gel the way I was hoping. I’m actually mostly through the rough draft of this one, having started it late in 2020, so I’m pretty certain this one will make it to fruition!

2. Finish the rough draft of “Londerland Bloodlines: Santa Monica’s Deluded Depths” and see if I can post any of it by year’s end: Yes, the magus opus of “oh hey, let’s see if I can do a fic of my Malkavian Alice going through the plot of Bloodlines -- oh hell this is going to have to be a multi-fic series, isn’t it” is still ongoing. I’m actually within sight of finishing this rough draft, if I’m honest -- Alice is FINALLY in the “blow up the warehouse” mission, and I just have to have her escape the place, talk to Beckett, then talk to Tung again before Santa Monica is done! I don’t want to promise that any of it WILL be posted in 2021, as even just this part is LONG -- meaning editing will take a while -- but fingers crossed I can at least provide a first chapter sneak peek next December?

3. Do SOMETHING with Fallout of Darkness, fic-wise: Keeping it vague for this one, as I’ve only just started my Official Playthrough with my Victor Van Dort Sole Survivor, and I’m still convincing my brain that attempting to novelize Fallout 4 is a WORSE idea than novelizing Bloodlines. But I do want to at least do some snippets to share, since the idea is clearly never ever going to leave me alone. :p At the very least, we have an official name for the verse, instead of me going back and forth between “Fallout of Darkness” and “Tell Me Where To Find Shelter” constantly?

Yeah, let’s keep it at that for now -- who knows what 2021 is going to bring, and I’d prefer not to commit to too much. Fingers crossed for a better, more creative year, folks! Let’s see if we can yank ourselves back into something resembling normality!