#Fic: I'm letting go

[ladydorian05]

Last Line Tag game

Rules: share the last line written, tag some peeps, have some fun!

It's been a while since I've participated in any writing game, but @daffi-990 left it open for anyone that might want to participate so here we go.

Little piece of ny WIP I'm letting go:

“wait. Eddie’s grandma taught you how to make a family recipe?” “Yeah, she said that it wouldn’t be a problem since I’m family and someone needs to teach Chris how to make this and other Diaz family secret recipes once he’s old enough, you know, pass them down to the next generation since she was going back to Texas and Eddie is still quite hopeless in the kitchen even if he tries to get better. And let me tell you, he’s really made a big improvement.” “Wow.”

No pressure tags:

@exhuastedpigeon @eddiebabygirldiaz @pirrusstuff @jesuisici33 I don't know who else to tag so anyone is welcome to participate always.

[gideonisms]

we don't think enough about the fact that pyrrha dve had to get up every day and go to her construction job. She was mourning the last polycule while starting the next one (btw everyone in both polycules was doomed to die including pyrrha herself) but she literally still had to get up and go to her shifts... she was on that minimum wage grind the whole time... however much credit we give her we don't give her enough

[i-like-to-look-at-your-back]

he protec he attac

Inspired by Territoriality by @poppy5991

[casdeans-pie]

Dean's ribs are aching.

He presses a hand against his skin, feeling the solid bones under his palm, and tries to imagine the ornate carvings running across them - remembers what the x-ray looked like. But his mind keeps getting stuck on the feeling of Cas's hand, strong and sturdy, in the center of his chest, and the pleasant burn that'd taken his breath away when he'd pressed into him.

A sensation that had been perfectly balanced on the knife-edge of pain and pleasure.

Dean lets out a shaky breath and tugs the scratchy motel sheets closer as he turns over, unable to stop being so aware of it all. A particularly loud snore from the bed next to him tells him that Sam isn't having the same problem.

It only takes another few minutes of Dean gritting his teeth and willing himself to go to sleep before he gives up with an angry sigh.

When he exits the room quietly, hoping to get some air and clear his head, he nearly walks straight into Castiel himself. "Jesus, Cas!" Dean yelps, then catches his volume, glances at the room behind him, and adds in a hissed whisper, "What are you doing here?"

Cas, for once, looks startled and a little guilty. "Hello, Dean," he says, voice rumbling quietly, "my apologies, I didn't expect anyone to leave the room until the morning."

"Yeah, that doesn't really answer my question, buddy. You were kind of loitering."

Cas shifts his weight a little in a nervous gesture that amuses Dean because it looks almost human. "I've been informed that watching over you while you sleep from your bedside is" - he squints his eyes - "creepy."

Dean can't help the huff of a laugh that escapes him. "'Cause it is."

Cas frowns. "And I can no longer sense either of you due to your sigils, so..."

(Dean presses his hand to his chest, echoes of the pleasure-pain running through his ribs.)

Cas's eyes flick down at the movement, but snap back up before Dean can put a name to the expression that passes over Cas's face. "So I have been watching over you... both of you... from outside your room instead. While I still know your current location," he adds sadly.

"Keeping tabs on us like this is still creepy Cas," Dean says, but there's no heat in it. In fact, he's surprised to realise that he really doesn't mind the idea of Cas watching over him- them.

"I can no longer sense you," Cas repeats, more upset this time.

A blue neon sign for the motel shines from above them, casting a moody blue light over Cas - catching the tips of his messy hair, and lighting up his eyes so that they're almost glowing. He's lit up in a way that reminds Dean of the Angel he really is, and it makes his ribs ache.

Dean grips the shirt over his chest in a tight fist.

Again Cas's gaze flicks down.

"What do they say?" Dean says so quietly it's nearly just a breath.

Cas must understand what Dean means, even though what he said makes no sense, because he replies, "It means you are to be kept away from all the eyes of the Angels, and none have permission to know of your location or gaze upon you." Cas reaches a hand up, suspends it in the air, and then lets it fall back to his side.

Dean feels a pulse race through his bones as he impulsively reaches for Cas's hand and places it on his chest, covering it with his own and pressing it down firmly. Warmth that feels like protection and safety rushes out from where their hands press together.

"I give you my permission," Dean says quietly, into this moment they've created, under the unnatural blue light of the motel sign, and the silent night around them.

Cas's eyes are wide and Dean feels his hand shaking. "You..." he visibly swallows and licks his lips. "You shouldn't say things like that to an Angel, Dean."

"Yeah? Well, too late. I mean it Cas. You've got my permission. And I know that means jack to symbols literally carved onto my bones, but it means you physically checking in with me if you want to know where we are - use your cellphone - and if I text you our motel room, and you're not, y’know, doing rebel Angel stuff, you can be our lookout." Dean feels silly all of a sudden and drops Cas's hand, stuffing his own into the pockets of the sweatpants he shoved on before he left the room. "And if I can't sleep, maybe we can talk outside again like tonight. Or whatever."

After a beat of pure silence the light on Cas's face from the sign seems to intensify and Dean can suddenly hear it buzzing.

The handprint on his shoulder pulses in time with the beat of his heart and the ache in his ribs.

"I would like that," Cas rumbles, a gentle smile on his lips.

Dean clears his throat and absentmindedly rubs his chest again. "Okay. Well. Good talk. I should- I should go back to bed- lots of big days coming up- world to save- goodnight, Cas." Dean doesn't want to call what he's doing running away, but he certainly does a good impression of it when he turns around and ducks back into the room.

A soft, "Goodnight, Dean," follows him inside before the door clicks shut behind him.

[starry-bi-sky]

The first time disciple Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu meets Liu Qingge, it is during a Bai Zhan peak raid. And what ends up happening is that Shen Qingqiu gets kicked in the jaw with such force he feels his teeth clack together unpleasantly. And frustrated with his situation, the system, and quite frankly a ton of other little things that have been building up over the course of the last few weeks, he feels something snap in the back of his mind like that of a rubber band after being stretched too far.

What ends up happening is that Shen Qingqiu turns and locks onto the very first figure he can see that is dressed in grey-and-white like a homing missile, and then with the force of a twin-tailed mountain tiger, lunges towards said figure with an equally menacing snarl.

He ends up taking the Bai Zhan peak disciple by utter surprise, and they both collide into the ground in a tangle of angry yelling and limbs. What ends up happening is that Liu Qingge gets the subsequent wind knocked out of him and pinned into the dirt by a Qing Jing peak disciple who is filled with the might and fury of a scholar having their peaceful afternoon interrupted and a once-grown-man re-experiencing puberty.

It is with that might and fury that Liu Qingge meets the wild, frenzied eyes of Shen Qingqiu, with his lips pulled back into a truly ferocious scowl. Shen Qingqiu hisses out, with such force it makes his voice rasp, as if he might as well sink his teeth into Liu Qingge's throat and rip it out; "Get the fuck off my mountain."

Liu Qingge is so shocked by -- well, quite a many things, but most importantly the fact that he has been pinned, and the way the sun is bouncing off this boy's face, -- that his brain needs five seconds to reboot. It's five seconds too long, because by the time he registers what just happened, Shen Yuan has clambered off him and disappeared. Gone and thrown himself into the closest dust cloud scuffling in order to unleash the rest of his fury on the other Bai Zhan Peak kids.

Qing Jing Peak experiences an unfortunate uptick in Bai Zhan disciple visits -- specifically of the Liu Qingge variety. Specifically Liu Qingge, actually. Who very much wants to find the boy that managed to get one over on him and demand a rematch. (Or maybe kiss him.)

[demaparbat-hp]

Zuko looked up and locked eyes with his cousin, who was struck speechless. Then, ever so slowly, Lu Ten's lips twitched upwards. And then he smiled. And then he beamed. And then he nodded proudly once, just once, and vanished.

Lu Ten comes back in For the Spirits Chapter VII: Take Me South, only to leave Zuko with more questions than answers. Just how much is he truly aware of? When will he return? What is Zuko going to do now?

(What will the South bring?)

[benevolenterrancy]

@hereticcryptid i'm late responding to this prompt, but have a continuation on baxia and hensheng wanting more cuddles than one would normally expect from a spiritual sword!

[omelaslost]

Bedding Ceremony Pt. 1

•───────•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•───────• Prompt: How they act during their bedding ceremony and the events leading up to it. Characters: Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Gwayne Hightower

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

•───────•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•───────•

Aegon II Targaryen

✿ Aegon would be looking forward to the bedding ceremony, eagerly anticipating it as he drinks throughout the feast. It’s a wonderful tradition in his mind, and he can’t wait to be undressed and lead to the bridal chambers with you. ✿ If you expressed discomfort or anxiety about the bedding ceremony leading up to it, while I don’t see him forgoing it, he would at least try to alleviate your nervousness. I don’t think he would truly understand why you were nervous or uncomfortable, because in his mind, it is custom for a wedding, but he would still try to make you feel better regardless. ✿ Keyword: Try. I don’t think Aegon is the best at comforting others in general, but he would genuinely try his best. Surely that must count for something. ✿ “It’s tradition,” He would start, his tone light but gentle as a smile lit up his face, “Thousands of brides before you have been undressed for their husbands, and thousands more will after you.” His smile would become tense if he noticed that his words did not have the soothing effect he had intended. “It’s not so bad. I promise.” He would pat your hand, grasping it to give it a small, comforting squeeze before releasing it. ✿ He would, of course, encourage you to drink during the feast leading up to the ceremony in an attempt to calm your nerves and loosen you up. If he noticed you fidgeting or looking nervous, he would hold his cup up to your lips until you took a sip.

✿ Granted, for every sip you took, he would probably take about three. He would likely be a bit tipsy by the time the bedding ceremony is announced. If you didn’t seem as nervous as you did before and he started getting impatient, he would stand up and announce it was time for the bedding himself. ✿ He would laugh at every single ribald joke, even more so at the ones directed at you. The women in attendance might would be struggling to move him forward and undress him because he would be in a fit of giggles over what his “dragon” would do to your “uncharted cave”. He’d probably throw in a few jokes of his own in response. ✿ He’d feel a surge of pride in his chest every time someone would pay a compliment to your body as if he’d been complimented himself. His smile would grow with each comment and he’d be nodding along like yes, that’s my wife and she does have great breasts and pretty lips and wonderful thighs thank you for noticing; I, too, have noticed. ✿ “She does, doesn’t she?” He would giggle out with the proudest, almost reverent smile plastered on his face. ✿ If he was being led ahead of you to your bedchambers, he would constantly be looking back at you and smiling as the men led and undressed you. The ladies would have to be leading him like a child by the arm because he is not paying attention to where he’s going. ✿ “Hurry and bring my beautiful bride to me,” he would call out once he was tucked into the bed in your bridal chambers. The moment you’re presented to him by the men, his arms are around you and he’s pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders while the guests make their exit, some hooting and whistling as they close the door behind them. ✿ “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He would ask once the two of you were alone, though the suggestions were already pouring in through the door. (It definitely was that bad). ✿ If you agree that is was not so bad, he would grin and pull you into a kiss, his hand immediately snaking down to your breast. ✿ If you disagreed, he would be a little shocked, his expression turning slightly pouty, but he would resume his kisses, promising that he would make it up to you.

✿ Aegon would be eager to consummate the marriage, and he wouldn’t be put off by the fact that there were people outside the door listening in and calling out suggestions. If anything, it would egg him on, though he would probably snort at some of the suggestions. ✿ He would definitely want to make you moan loud enough for them all to hear. ✿ “Aw, come on now, don’t be shy. I want everyone to hear how good I make you feel,” he would murmur in your ear, giving your nipple a teasing pinch and changing his angle as he thrust into you with the intention of making you cry out louder.

Aemond Targaryen

✿ Aemond is a bit more complicated. He wouldn’t be looking forward to the bedding ceremony; in fact, he would likely be dreading it during the entirety of the feast, not that you would be able to tell by looking at him. He knows that it is tradition and he knows what is expected of him, and as a dutiful prince and husband, he would swallow whatever negative feelings he would have and do what needs to be done. ✿ While Aemond would not bring it up himself, if you mentioned that you were nervous about the ceremony, he would listen to you quietly and give a little hum to let you know he’d heard you. While initially, he might remind you what’s expected of the two of you, he would at least make note of your worries. ✿ When the time came, if you still seemed nervous, he would tactfully say that his new wife was not comfortable with the ceremony or was not feeling well, so the two of you would forgo the ceremony and attend to each other privately. ✿ And attend you he would. The moment the two of you were alone in your bridal chambers, a majority of the tension from the day would seem to melt off him. He’d be relieved that he could at least have you in peace. He’d likely be gentler with you as a result.

✿ Make no mistake, though the ceremony itself was skipped, the bedding would still occur. You’re his wife, and he would want an heir, and he'd want one as soon as possible at that. So while he might go easy on you he wouldn’t exactly be letting you rest much on your wedding night. ✿ If the marriage was arranged with a short betrothal period, it would be a rather impersonal night. He would make sure you were cared for and satisfied as much as he was, but that night (and the next that followed) would be duty-driven more than anything else. However, that is not to say the two of you would not find pleasure in each other. ✿ Now, if your betrothal was a longer one and Aemond had a fondness for you before the wedding (and bedding) it would be a much more tender experience, though no less demanding. ✿ However, if you did not outwardly mention any nervousness or reluctance to go through with the ceremony, Aemond would simply bear it. ✿ It would likely be Aegon to announce it was time for the bedding once he grew tired of the feast. Aegon would be the first to move to unlace your gown and would be the loudest in his jokes. ✿ There’s a lot of potential for jokes, after all. Aemond does have the largest dragon in the world, after all… how lucky his wife must be. ✿ I don’t think Aemond would enjoy most of the humor of the night, unfortunately, but he would bear them as he bears all else. ✿ Aemond would not allow any of the women undressing him to touch his eyepatch. If it had to be removed before he entered the bridal chambers, he would do so himself. He wouldn’t want it just ripped off of him like the rest of his clothes. Despite his stoic exterior, the loss of his eye is a very sensitive spot for him still. If it must be exposed, it should be by him. ✿ Unlike Aegon, instead of feeling pride when one of the men complimented your body, he would feel mostly possessive. He’d be feeling a lot of emotions all at once. There would be a small bit of pride that you were beautiful and you were his, that people were bearing witness to his claim over you, but it would also be overshadowed by the fact that others were touching you, that they were undressing you. But it is tradition, so there isn’t much to be done about it.

✿ Aegon’s presence might be the most difficult thing for Aemond to swallow during the ceremony, regardless of his other feelings. Aemond’s feelings about his older brother are complicated and that tends to bleed into everything. Even if it’s a political marriage, even if it is tradition, he wouldn’t be fond of others touching his wife, but especially Aegon. A whore is one thing, but you were to be his. And if it’s more than just politics? More than one guest in attendance would be able to attest to the fact that your husband looked like he wanted to kill someone on the way to the bedchamber. But he would swallow his emotions on it. ✿ If it is more than just an arranged marriage and Aemond managed to retain his eyepatch up until the two of you alone, he would allow you to take it off of him. ✿ That being said, Aemond would definitely end up taking his pent-up frustrations from the feast out on you during the actual bedding. He would at least make sure you were prepared to take him, but he would be rough that night. ✿ He would try to tune out the shouts of suggestions pouring in from the other side of the door, and he would want you to do the same. He doesn’t want you focusing on outside sources the first time he’s inside you. ✿ “Ignore them. I’m the one in front of you. Focus on me,” He would murmur in your ear as he thrust into you. That would be his goal, to make you feel so good that you forgot all about your wedding guests. ✿ He would want to make you moan loud enough to drown them all out. There would be a tiny part of him that wanted those lingering outside the room to know that he could please his new wife. Ultimately, I think he’d just want it to be over so the guests would leave. ✿ He would definitely make it up to you on the second or third round once they’re all gone and it’s just the two of you.

Gwayne Hightower

✿ Gwayne would be a healthy mix of Aegon and Aemond, but I think he would be leaning slightly more on the Aegon side of things in terms that he’d be more comfortable in the tradition and lighthearted in the proceedings. ✿ He’s totally for and looking forward to the bedding ceremony, and similar to Aegon, he wouldn’t initially stop to think that his wife might be uncomfortable with it and why. He couldn’t wait to be undressed and watch you be undressed in turn, knowing that at the end of it, he would be able to claim you in the eyes of gods and men. ✿ If you brought up any concerns, he might even think you were joking at first, smiling and letting out a chuckle. His first instinct would be to brush it off as nerves on your part. You were his bride and brides were almost always bashful on their wedding night. He would consider your timidness to be endearing. ✿ “You’re beautiful. You’ve nothing to feel shy about,” He would try to assure you, offering you a charming smile and perhaps even a small, tender kiss on your knuckles. ✿ He’d keep an eye on you throughout the feast (you were eating from the same plate and drinking from the same cup after all), and when he noticed how genuinely anxious you seemed, he would feel a bit more protective of you. ✿ He would still be disappointed if his wife really didn’t want to proceed with the ceremony, but ultimately, he would be more likely to choose to forgo it if she was truly uncomfortable. Once he considers things from her perspective and realizes that it wasn’t just nerves but genuine discomfort, he would be much more understanding. He would relent easier if he knew his wife and perhaps had been betrothed to her for a while. ✿ Like yeah, he’d be a little disappointed, but this is the woman he’s going to spend the rest of his or her life with and will (hopefully) be the mother of his children, so he’d rather start the marriage off on the right foot. Plus that means he gets to be the one to undress her and she can undress him, so his disappointment would be short-lived. He’s a product of the culture he’s been raised in, but Gwayne is a kind person beneath it. ✿ He would tease her though, once they were alone. As he unlaced her gown, he would be saying “Oh? So you didn’t want anyone seeing this, hm? These? They’re magnificent.” while cupping your breasts and teasing your nipples.

✿ “Perhaps it is for the best… the whole of the Seven Kingdoms would be beside themselves with envy. The women for your beauty and the men because you are mine.” ✿ He’d be laying the charm on thick, focusing on easing your worries and making you feel more comfortable. ✿ Now, if all things go according to custom and you do not outwardly express the wish to forgo the ceremony, things would play out very differently. ✿ Regardless, Gwayne would still want first rights to his wife, so as his arm is grabbed by the nearest woman, he’d reach over with his free hand to undo the top lace of your wedding gown, grinning cheekily before he’s pulled away from you. ✿ Like Aegon, he would find a majority of the bawdy jokes amusing (the Hightower big cock jokes write themselves), laughing and shaking his head as they were spouted towards the two of you. He would raise his brow at the more outlandish ones, though he would have his own responses for anything he found too degrading towards you (degrading even by Westeros standards, at the very least). ✿ “Be gentle with my bride,” he would warn if he noticed the men getting a bit too rough with you. Though he would veil it with a lighthearted tone, there would be a layer of seriousness that made itself known. He wouldn’t want them ripping your gown off in their haste to undress you. Gwayne would want you treated delicately. ✿ There is a good chance that you were a virgin, being of noble birth, so Gwayne would be aware that you were likely nervous about the act itself. He would want to make you giggle, kissing your neck while his fingers danced across your stomach. ✿ He might scoff at some of the suggestions your drunken guests shout through the door, but he’d still find most of them amusing. “Ridiculous. Do they think you’re a wooden doll to be bent every which way? Though…” (He secretly stores some suggestions in his mind for when you’re more experienced).

[numbuh424]

congrats to ao3 for the site traffic the good omens fandom is about to bring them this week

[lizardkingeliot]

they're writing season 3 as we speak

THEY'RE WRITING SEASON 3 AS WE SPEAK

[ladydorian05]

Fuck it Friday!

Thank you everyone who has been tagging me, and to @wikiangela for tagging me on today's Fuck it Friday.

Here, have a sneak peak of a new WIP I'm working on for a friend, this is going to be entirely from Tommy's POV and a little bit of context, this comes from watching a cute moment between Eddie, Buck and Chris:

He finds their friendship so beautiful, it’s easy to see how much they care for each other. It’s so nice and refreshing to be a witness to such a scene, there’s not a trace of the usual toxic masculinity that seems to permeate most friendships between men. No such thing exists between Evan and Eddie. He’s so glad he gets to call Eddie a friend and Evan his, well his date, his almost something. Hopefully, his future boyfriend.

No pressure tags:

@made-ofmemories @wildlife4life @thewolvesof1998 @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus @bidisasterevankinard @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @crowleywasagryffindor @theotherbuckley @jesuisici33 @missmagooglie @daffi-990 @pirrusstuff @giddyupbuck @neverevan @exhuastedpigeon

[muffinlance]

Wait, what’s going on with Embers???? That fic has been on my read later list since 2021, what’s happened with it???

Brief overview, then I'm likely never touching this topic again, because this is not a Drama Blog:

Context: Embers is a super old AtLA fic that was written during the early fandom days, read widely at the time, and was the origin of the widely-used fanon name of "Wani" for Zuko's ship (kind of by default that it was one of the first popular fics to give his ship a name, I think?), even though most fic writers don't seem to realize it's from there anymore.

"What's Going On": I used to include a link in all my stories to it, because I believe in crediting other writers for borrowed elements, and I was using "Wani" in all my fics. But BOY did I not want to be sending readers that way anymore, so I've adopted a new name for Zuko's ship, and removed all Embers links.

None of the criticisms about Embers itself are new; I'm assuming they date back to when the fic was being written, because this isn't an "it aged badly" thing, this is an "actually yeah this gets worse the longer you think about it and I shouldn't have ignored my bad feelings just because some of the worldbuilding was interesting" thing.

An Incomplete List of Why I Made the Change:

I don't actually like the story that much anymore, and don't want to rec it

I tried to re-read it recently to see if some things were as bad as I remembered and it turns out they were So Much Worse Oh Yikes. More specifically, the treatment of Katara and Aang and their respective cultures has... rather a lot going on. One example: The Fire Nation and Air Nomads are both given multiple backstory elements in an attempt to make the average Fire Nation soldier's participation in the genocide/war in large part the fault of the Avatar and the Air Nomads themselves, and also fully justified from the Fire Nation perspective. And I do mean fully. One of its core tenants is "People from the Fire Nation (and only people from the Fire Nation) who don't follow orders Literally Die, therefore murdering pacifists and babies and continuing the war (and their regularly scheduled war crimes) is the only thing it is physically possible for them to do". I cannot emphasize enough how literal that is.

Also the name "Wani" means "Alligator" and is... objectively a pretty lame name for Zuko's ship? Where's the personality, where's the deeper meaning, where's the resonance with Zuko's themes? @tuktukpodfics initially thought I was calling the ship "Wanyi", and that's what I've switched to, because it is Objectively So Much Better. In their words: “Wànyī (萬一): Literally ‘one in ten thousand,’ ‘perchance.’ Used grammatically in Chinese to mean ‘what if’ or ‘just in case.’ I think a ship called ‘The Perchance’ is perfect for a boy clinging to false hope.”

TL:DR; I don't rec Embers anymore, because I don't actually like the story anymore, and there are things about it that get worse the more I think on them. I've removed links to it and renamed Zuko's ship to "Wanyi" ("The Perchance") because our boy deserves a ship name that reflects his character arc.

[fearandhatred]

haha have you thought about the fact that decades or centuries from now when we're all dead and gone people could still possibly be thinking about good omens and writing about crowley and aziraphale living their lives in that time. doing exactly what we're doing now. and maybe they'll write about crowley and aziraphale living through the historical events we've lived through. have you thought about the fact that crowley and aziraphale will live on long after we're all gone

[essektheylyss]

One thing that I feel is really interesting and often forgotten about Essek is that fundamentally, his characterization has been from the start based upon his desperation for external perspectives and connection, which, along with much of his narrative and mechanical positioning, means that he actually has an extraordinary and almost (but not actually, as I'll show) counterintuitive capacity for both growth and trust.

(Buckle in. This is a long one.)

In particular, I would argue, knowing now that many places where the plot touches Ludinus have long been marked for connecting back into the current plot, that he was quite possibly built as a prime candidate for radicalization by the Ruby Vanguard. He felt isolated from his culture, he was desperate for other connection, and he was certainly of the type to believe he was too smart to be drawn into such a thing, given his initial belief that he could control the situation and the fallout. If things had gone any other way, he easily could've been on the other side by now.

As such, he has been hallmarked by being fairly open to suggestion, perhaps for this reason, but the thing about that kind of trait is that it is both how people are radicalized and deradicalized. This is certainly true of Essek, who experienced genuine kindness and quite frankly strangeness from the Nein and was able to move from the isolation the Assembly had engendered to meaningful and genuine connection, largely propelled by his own internal reflection. By the time Nein are aware of his crimes, he's already begun to express regret to an extent and, furthermore, doubt in the Assembly, including explicitly drawing a line against Ludinus, even in a position where he was on his own and probably quite vulnerable.

Similarly, when the Nein reach the Vurmas Outpost some weeks later, he has moved from regret for the position he's ended up carrying a heavy remorse. This makes sense! He's fairly introspective, seems used to spending a lot of time in his own head, and was left with plenty to mull over. It's not some kind of retcon for him to have progressed well past where the Nein left him; it just means he's an active participant in the world who has done his own work in the meantime.

This is another interesting aspect to him. I've talked about this a bit before but I cannot find the post so I'll recap here: antagonists in D&D have significantly more agency than allied NPCs. Antagonists are active forces, against which the party is meant to struggle; allies are meant to support the PCs, which means they tend to be more passive in both their actions and their character growth. Essek was both built as an antagonist, in a position that gives him significant agency, and also was then given significant opportunity to grow specifically to act as a narrative mirror for Caleb's arc. Even when he becomes a more traditional D&D ally, he still retains much of that, though he occupies a supporting role.

I believe that this is especially true because of the nature of Caleb's arc, which I've already written on; the tl;dr of this post is that Caleb is both convinced that he is permanently ruined and also desperate to prove that change is possible. Essek is that proof, because he is simply the character in a position to do so. But this also means that his propensity for introspection and openness is accentuated! He has to do the legwork on his own, for the most part, because that's where he is in the meantime.

But he still ends the campaign necessarily constricted; he is under significant scrutiny, he's at risk from the Assembly, and he goes on the run fairly soon after the story ends. He spends most of the final arc anxious and paranoid, which is valid given the crushing reality of his situation. It would be very easy to extrapolate that seven years into this reality, he would be insular, closed off, and suspicious of strangers, even in spite of the lessons he's learned from the Nein and their long term exposure.

So seeing his openness and lightness now is surprising, but at the same time, given this combination of factors in his position in the narrative over time and his defining traits, it's not by any means unreasonable.

But one thing that I found so delightful is how much trust he exhibits, which is obviously a wild thing to say about Essek in particular, given much of what he learns is both earning and offering trust, which was something he says explicitly in 2x124 that he's never really experienced: "I've never really been trusted and so I did not trust." It makes up much of the progression of his relationship with Caleb, and the trust that he is offered by the Nein in walking off the ship is the impetus he needs to grow.

But I think it's easy to talk about trust when it comes to people who have proven themselves to you or to whom you've ingratiated yourself, and that's really the most we can say about Essek by the time he leaves the Blooming Grove. There is this sense in a lot of discussion of trust (not solely in this fandom) that it is only related to either naivete or love, but there's far more to it. Trust at its best is deliberate—cultivating an openness to the world at large is a great way to combat cynicism and beget connection instead. It allows a person to maintain curiosity and be open to experience, but it can be incredibly difficult to hold onto.

It is clear that the Essek we meet now is a very pointedly and intentionally trusting individual. He trusts Caleb and by extension Caleb's trust in Keyleth, as he shows up and picks up a group of strangers from a foreign military encampment and walks in without issue. He trusts the Hells to follow his lead moving through Zadash and to exhibit enough discretion so as to avoid bringing suspicion upon all of them. He trusts that Astrid will respond well to his entrance, but he also trusts himself and the Hells enough to execute a back-up plan in the case that she doesn't. In the end, he even trusts them enough to give them his name and identity.

He doesn't scan as someone who has spent half a dozen years living like a prey animal, afraid of any shadow he runs across in an alley, withdrawn into himself and an insular family, which would've been an easy route for him to take. He scans as someone who has learned the kind of trust borne of learned confidence and a trained eye for good will and kindness, which are crucial weapons one would need for staving off cynicism in his circumstances—as if he has survived thanks more to connection and kindness than paranoia and isolation. (If we want to be saccharine about it, he scans quite poignantly as a member of the Mighty Nein.)

So it is easy to imagine this trust and openness as a natural progression of his initial search for perspectives external to his own cultural knowledge. Though he makes those first connections with the Assembly to try to vindicate his personal hypotheses, he finds in them exposure to the deepest corruption among Exandrian mortals, which could've—and did, for a time—turned him further down that same dark path.

But it's also this same openness to exposure from the wider world that allows the Nein to influence him for the better, and in spite of the challenges he's certainly faced simply surviving over the past seven years, he seems to have held onto this openness enough to move through the world with self-assurance and a willingness to extend the kinds of trust and good will that he has been shown.

(I would be remiss not to mention that I was reminded about my thoughts on this by this lovely post from sky-scribbles and their use in the tags of 'light' to describe Essek's demeanor this episode, which is really such an apt word for it.)

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[syoddeye]

more reading recs

because one post isn't enough. we are hashtag blessed with fic.

as requested, i've highlighted fics with noncon and/or dubcon elements in orange. beyond that, you are responsible for reading tags, warnings, and summaries.

pairings are indicated, although these may change or may not be established yet.

there is no method to this madness, no specific order. these are listed here as my brain remembered them.

i've checked all the links maybe three times, if they're broken, i blame tumblr's formatting.

without further ado...

Slasher Handler by @dragonnarrative-writes - Ghost x Reader

"Simon does serial killer things. What a rascal!" Another fantastically written Simon, with wonderful dashes of Gaz and Price. It's put the term 'romance knives' in my vocabulary. There are many quotable bits and moments that made my blood run cold with how normal the ~situation~ feels, but everything has to be experienced firsthand.

The Far Shore by @deadbranch - Soap x Reader

DB's fic collection is rich, and The Far Shore is no different. I fucking loved Pacific Rim, so when I saw her first mention a PR AU, I did imaginary backflips. DB's Readers are some of my favorites because of how complex and realistic they feel, and when combined with the visceral depth of the neural handshake AND Soap? Compelling. The dynamic between them is fascinating. I almost can't wait for it to be finished so I can go back and dissect it.

Falling into Place by @mortuarywriting

Morg's brought the first COD Isekai AU I've read, like a little treat, with A/B/O to boot. The first chapter hooked me and cracked me up. Their dialogue reads so well, it truly feels like I got sucked into the universe. The panicked ramblings, the over-explanation, the 'oh shit, we don't even have a shared cultural touchstone' moments. I cannot wait for more.

Carvings by @femalefemur - Price x Reader

Cyn's got this amazing thing going on called 'Top Quality Worms' where she takes me by the hand and leads me down a rabbit hole I didn't know I'd find so cozy. Carvings is one piece from her incredible list, featuring a bloody, possessive Captain Price. Somehow, out of this entire piece, Price snapping a pen really did it for me. Did someone say loss of control? Oh no, not my kryptonite!

Under Your Spell by @groguspicklejar - Gaz x Reader x Soap

This fic had me at the pairing tag. Lured me right in. No hope for me, and I'm not mad about it. The way Gaz and Soap play off of each other in Under Your Spell is spine-tingling in more ways than one. The definition of scaroused. Kelsi writes a wonderful Gaz. The first two paragraphs in part two, Split My Skin, describe him perfectly to me.

Chokehold by @ccrites - Soap x Reader

Chokehold is a chef's kiss read. Starts off as a cute and sweet gym read, and uh, well, it does get sweeter, in a way. Without spoiling anything, there is a brief cab ride that made me take a lap before things got really going for Reader. CC's Soap is a delightful tease that is tender all at the same time. I'd join his gym in a heartbeat.

Knight/Princess AU by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world - Price x Reader

I've read and re-read this AU series a dozen times. It's so gd cute, I might need to see the dentist about how it's rotting my teeth. Seriously, it makes ME want to be a princess. Specifically Price's princess. Bear writes such a sweet and gruff Price, catch me holding a hand over my heart and just sighing. I'm also a big fan of multiple POVs and the insight into each character.

Martyr in the Making by @eilidh-eternal - Ghost x Reader

I had a tattoo touch-up the other day, and while waiting, I thought about this fic: the dream and nightmare of being tattooed by Simon and the rest of the 141. It's a dream for obvious reasons (probably unhealthy for me) and a nightmare because of, well, you'll have to read the story. Getting a tattoo can be such an intimate experience. You put yourself into someone's care and get something permanently etched onto your body. When Reader sits for Simon, you're right there with her, the two of you on an altar.

Liquid Smooth by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader

Bodyguard!Gaz save me, save me, bodyguard!Gaz. Ugh, Gaz is fucking incredible in every flavor, but there is something that hits different about the guy when he's flexing those 'VIP protection' skills. There are several tiny moments in Liquid Smooth that made me audibly whisper, "God, I wish that were me." If you have a conifer tree allergy, you might not be able to handle the god-tier pining. (I'll see myself out.)

pornstar!Gaz by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader

Gotta include the series that I drop everything for whenever I see an update. Another fantastic depiction of best man Kyle Gaz Garrick. The charm, the jealousy, the care...My personal favorite installments are Whispers and Threesomes.

plus size puppygirl!reader / Simon & Reader / Punishment by @secretsynthetic - Price x Reader x Ghost

Ghost gets his Captain a puppy, and Synth gives us a tasty Price x Reader x Ghost story. I've linked the intro and a Simon x Reader snippet, but my personal favorite is Punishment. Punishment is a deeper dive into Price the disciplinarian: "how the hell do i get a mutt like you to fuckin’ listen?" I'd gush about it, but again, this is another one to read and experience firsthand. One of my favorite recent explorations of a PriceGhost dynamic.

~~

i'll probably cobble another one of these together in may 2024. my fic backlog is something else. i blame it on all the massive talent. mwah.