#I could probably ramble in more detail about any ship you throw my way

[val-of-the-north]

Name your 5 favorite Bloodborne ships and justify your opinion! (Also if you take too long to respond this ask I will cast a curse on you that will make every pizza slice you hold to sprout pineapple pieces from within AHAHAHAHA! When I am late to reply - this is stress and busy life, when you are late to reply - this is being lazy booboo the fool xD)

This is a hard one for me!!! I am not the shippiest of people (I am more for different scenarios than fixed ships more often than not), but I shall try my best! They aren't in any particular order.

5) Gatekeeper x Dores

This one makes sense but basically no one ships them because they are two obscure characters that don’t really impact the story all that much. Fully reasonable lmao. Sadly, I am ALL for obscure characters so they did not escape my radar. I just think they’d have a very fun dynamic, seeing as she is feral and creepy while he is incredibly paranoid and strict. They are into some weird ass shit too, after all they are both insane lol.

4) Damian x Micolash

It was pretty much one of the introductory ships lmao, and it makes great sense too. I view Damian as one of Micolash’s greater enforcers and perhaps even enabler. He is kind of Micolash’s muscle because the scholar wasn’t particularly strong back in the day, and his power only comes from close contact with the Arcane. Damian was probably the least disposable of the people in Yahar’gul which is saying something when it comes to Micolash lol. This one doesn’t end very well though, as the two of them part ways after Damian finally listens to his conscience...

3) Brador x Laurence

This ship has some veeeery good angst potential, and that is one of the aspects that draws me to it. Brador would do anything for Laurence, and the vicar is incredibly greatful for it, despite this attitude somewhat spoiling him in the long run. However, I don’t picture this ship as reciprocated, Laurence only views him as a close, devoted friend, and Brador accepts this despite wishing for so much more... of course he is driven mad by having to kill Laurence, and vows to keep his name and legacy clear for as long as he lives and even beyond. It’s some inhuman dedication that Laurence will never bear witness to.

2) Rom x Ebrietas

It’s one of the more “abstract” of these ships since it’s probably really hard to understand a being like Ebrietas... however, she seems to have a connection with the Rom-like body, mourning it. I believe that to be Rom’s real world body, meaning Ebrietas had to be fond of her at some point. This becomes even more interesting when taking into account that all clues point to Rom having been human(oid) at some point and ascending. A being like Ebrietas caring for something so insignificant to her... even the Choir seems perplexed, wondering why she'd even weep for something like Rom. I think that’s really sweet, if not incredibly sad too... (I do not ignore that Rom could also be her surrogate child of sort, but Great Ones marrying mortals isn’t something entirely new, so who knows for sure?)

1) Two particular Yurie ships

Lol lmao. I could not choose between the ones I have. I’ve always appreciated Yurie, and thinking back at some of these ships makes me feel a bit fuzzy inside. They go waaaay back! The one that makes the most sense is of course her relationship with Rom. I imagine them being very close, and their bond being one of the reasons why she still protects her in Byrgenwerth. If Rom had any importance to the Choir as a whole, they’d probably send more of their ranks to protect her, but it’s just Yurie on her own. Another one is with Damian, and this one is pretty strange I admit ahah... it was a crackship of sorts, but I could ALSO see the potential in it, with both of them having fled their institutions to find themselves in the emptied halls of Byrgenwerth, reflecting upon their mistakes and perhaps bonding over them. Of course the only thing she CAN’T give up is Rom, so when Damian shows up with a curious hunter in tow, she knows what they are there to do and she won’t allow it.

Well, you may have noticed that these ships are all tragic (except Dores & Gatekeeper lol) and DON’T have happy endings... yeah that sounds about right for a Soulsborne game ahah, wish I could be less of a downer but the source material won’t let me :(

[katieskarlette]

Reactions to spoilery cutscenes

Curiosity got the better of me, and I watched all the cutscenes that WoWhead posted from 11.0.

Spoilers and rambling below.

[Disclaimer: These are just my poorly-organized thoughts after watching cutscenes online without much context. Take them with a grain of salt.]

First, the prematurely-gray elephant in the room: Khadgar. I really enjoyed him as a character and I will miss him. Was it a fitting sendoff for such a huge lore figure? Not in my opinion. It was basically copying Rhonin's death (although at least this was in game and not in a novel). And Atiesh got broken, too. As a mage main, that made me cringe, and the destruction of my home city didn't feel good, either. The visual effects of it blowing up in a void explosion were impressive, at least.

Moving on... From what I've seen, I like what they're doing with Moira and her son, and their dynamic with Magni. Talk about a redemption arc, going from the Worst Father of the Year to doting grand'da. Aww. I'm not sorry to see the diamond shell go away. It was stingy of Azeroth not to give him any armor to keep, though. Harumph.

As for the new short folk...I love their blue gryphons, but otherwise they're not my cup o' tea, aesthetically, and I feel like the mechanical motif should stay with the gnomes and mechagnomes. Also, dwarves without Scottish accents seem so wrong. I know that's a ridiculous thing to say because why the hell did that get to be a thing anyway, but it's what we're used to. (Incidentally, exposure to WoW dwarves helped me do a killer Scottish accent when I want to. My best friend does a great Irish accent, so sometimes we'll greet each other in our respective fake accents. Maybe you have to be there, but it amuses us.)

ANYWAY...

Warcraft has always had a vaguely cartoony style. In the last several years the quality of the character models has improved noticeably. I feel like Blizzard is struggling to find a happy medium wherein it still has that signature Warcraft vibe while taking advantage of the improved graphics. Which is a long winded way to say that I find Anduin's detailed eyelashes and the M.C. Escheresque intricacies of Alleria's hair distracting. Anduin's facial structure, stubble, and the under layer of his hair look somewhat realistic, but the top layer of his hair and his vividly blue eyes look like they're from a different universe.

Speaking of Alleria, I don't understand the need to completely redesign her character. Funky winged eyeliner and an asymmetric cape, a totally different color palette, her hair all over the place...it's like she's a completely different character. Sure, a real person can have a major makeover and that's totally fine, but when you're dealing with a fictional character who has a distinct "look" to them, you should have a very, very good reason to throw away the familiarity/recognition you've already established. I felt a little bit that way when Jaina got her makeover for BFA, but since she's by far the most prominent human woman in the franchise it was easier to adjust. We have how many rail-thin high/blood/void elven women now? A lot. They could have done some cool, subtle things with slowly changing her Legion-era outfit to be more void-themed over time, but I suppose that would require extra modeling work that would deprive the playerbase of a raid tier...

I have no idea who Aelric Leid is, but I'd know Jim Pirri's voice anywhere. I'm glad he's still around the franchise after Nathanos was sent off to live happily ever after in a quiet corner of Ardenweald with his true love after she rescued him from the maw and you can pry that headcanon from my cold, not-undead hands killed off.

So we have a Wrynn not climbing about the fleeing ship with his allies but instead jumping down to fight the thing trying to destroy said ship, even knowing it will probably lead to his death. GEE, WHERE HAVE I SEEN THAT BEFORE?! Okay, I have to admit that did give me some feels. There's a fine line between poignant, thematically significant callbacks and gratuitously echoing past imagery while screaming, "Look! It's the thing! You remember the thing, right? Here it is again! Isn't that cool?" I'm looking at you, tons of Arthas parallels they pushed on Anduin in BFA and Shadowlands. Ahem. So yeah, I see what you did there, Blizzard, and I don't hate it. Let me conjure you a mana cookie.

Ansurek looked SO much cooler before her void power-up. She looks creepy af with all those red eyes and the stuff on her head, yet she's got a normal human mouth and a cutesy nose. WTF? Come on, let the creepy spider queen be monstrous! Trust me, people will still want to fuck her. Source: I've been on the internet.

"With our renewed strength, our kingdom shall be reborn." Zzzzzzz... Huh? Wha'? Oh. I'm sorry, I could have sworn I've heard this schtick about 874 times already.

Is Alleria really stupid enough to think she can kill (the equivalent of?) an Old God with an arrow? There's no way a shapeshifting being of the void could possibly put up an illusion or teleport away at the last second! /facepalm (Although soon after she was able to gut-punch Xal'atath to make her back up, so maybe it wasn't such a dumb strategy... I dunno. I'm just judging a bunch of short cutscenes out of context.)

A Windrunner sister gripping her bow so tightly we hear the leather squeak. Never seen that before, either.

I do like Xal'atath so far. She's got the sultry voice of Azshara, the (over)confidence of Lich King Arthas, and the creepy wrongness of her Old God pals. Voice aside, she's not as sexualized as a lot of her predecessors in the franchise, which is a relief. (I love Azshara to bits but she must have used massive amounts of double-sided tape and/or powerful magic to keep her boobs in that dress back in her pre-naga days.)

So yeah. I watched the in-game cinematics. There was some good, some bad, and some stuff I like to clown on but wasn't actually that awful. I can't say that it made me reconsider my decision not to play the expansion, but I'm glad I know a little bit more about what's going on.

Now, since they so rudely destroyed Dalaran, I'll have to picture my mage curling up in the library in Stormwind Keep, instead. Because that's what I imagine she does when I'm not playing the game. ;)

[jonayariley]

so i have been curious for the longest time since the couple was revealed in all your projects, and its piqued, idk if you've answered something like this before so if so just throw me the link if needed but i must know your elchixie thoughts.

like the hows, the whys, what hc's based off canon, fanon, whatever you have for em just, ramble bout em, i find myself curious on many a crackship and the urge to poke brains on the reasonings for em (and no offense i just, don't think i can go through so many fic chapters to learn some info on this ship sorry)

Oh boy oh boy you sure did come to the right place! I may have talked about this in other places, but idk that I've ever have someone just outright ask, and I think you'd probably be sifting through mostly commentary on Friendsim 2 to find any details and that's like... hours of video to watch, so this ask was a good idea!

I guess the heart of why I love the Elwurd/Chixie dynamic so much is a combination of "I can fix her" and "they should have talked." Allow me to elaborate!

Elwurd

So, I really like the idea of exploring how characters can grow and change (or, conversely, refuse to change) over time. When I was writing my Hiveswap novels (and I later carried this over to Friendsim 2, but those came first so they get first credit here), I really wanted to explore how Elwurd could evolve as a character. Like, in the original Friendsim and Hiveswap games she's kinda one-note - not, like, bad or anything... just she's gay and flirty and she's kinda a jerk sometimes. But there's only so much you can do with a character in a short visual novel route and a handful of dialogue boxes as a side character in an adventure game.

But I wanted to explore the idea of how Elwurd's outward "fuck everyone else" attitude might be something she puts up as a way of not having to deal with the horrors of her reality. The combination of being expected to support the Empire as a cerulean (something she doesn't have any interest in doing) and still being kinda powerless to actually do anything to change things. So she throws herself into escapism - drugs and booze and casual hookups. There's a line in Delightful Abattoir that I keep circling thematically with Elwurd:

I just want to not have to feel that pain all the time. So I do things to escape from it a few minutes at a time. Is that so bad?

And that's kind of where she's at in the beginning of her arc, headspace-wise. Like I said, I carried a lot of this forward to Friendsim 2, albeit with a more grounded take on the world that follows the original Friendsim.

Chixie

She's someone who exists in this precarious space - a lowblood who's in the Alternian entertainment industry, which already puts her under a very uncomfortable spotlight. As a marginalized person, you don't really have a lot of room to make mistakes in the public eye, because you're judged way more harshly for it - or seen as a representative for your entire class of existence as a person. So that's already a lot of pressure, added to the whole secret identity thing with the Mask.

And tbh, I see the Mask as being kind of an open secret - like, she doesn't even change clothes, so it doesn't seem like no one would be able to figure it out, but also I really like playing with the idea of the Empire allowing a certain level of performative/superfluous rebellion among the population. Basically, you can talk about it as long as you aren't actually causing problems. And that's going to be frustrating to Chixie too because she wants to actually make a difference.

I see her as someone with a lot of trust issues - not a lot of super close friends, and she's clearly not dealing well with the stress either, given that we see her in canon having issues with substance use.

In my Hiveswap novels and Friendsim 2, I added the extra layer of having to deal with having Zebruh as her manager - someone who wants to exploit her both from a commercial perspective and sexually (he keeps hitting on her in Friendsim 2 and in Delightful Abattoir they're in an outright abusive relationship at first).

Elwurd/Chixie

So, independently there's a lot going on, but the other part of this is I feel like these two would naturally run in some of the same circles. Elwurd is shown hanging out in a bar, partying, etc. in canon - and seems like someone who would absolutely be involved in the underground music scene and run in some of the same underground circles as Chixie, even if it was just to sell folks drugs.

In Friendsim 2, I added the layer of having Elwurd basically acting as a roadie for Chixie's band sometimes - she's just kind of hanging out in the same places and with the same people (like fellow dissatisfied cerulean blood Mallek) and the whole "just trying to avoid thinking about this shit too much" attitude is gonna drive her to do something to keep her mind off the existential bullshit that is her life. Why not help a pretty bronze blood carry an amp and run some cables, right?

I really like the idea of these two eventually talking and starting to connect over some similarities - disgust for the Empire, a feeling of helplessness in their lives, a desire for things to be different somehow. They don't take exactly the same angle towards things - I'd say Elwurd is far more self-destructive and Chixie is more kind of "rage against the machine" about it - but I think there's enough common ground that they could end up talking and getting closer.

I've always liked the headcanon that Chixie is demisexual - probably a good deal of personal bias going into that (and - yknow - "vibes"), but it's a fun element to toss in there. That means that Elwurd/Chixie is always going to be something that's a slow burn and is always kinda fragile. In Friendsim 2 you have to line a few things up right for them to actually consider being matesprits, and in the Hiveswap novels it takes a while for them to end up together.

And, like, I feel like their attitudes temper each other. Elwurd finds someone to ground her self-destructive tendencies, and Chixie finds someone who helps her feel less isolated and less inside her own head all the time. They both still run in the same circles, and Elwurd always struck me as someone who'd be down with the idea of fucking over the Empire, so the whole Mask/rebellion thing isn't a hard sell.

Anyway, that turned out very much longer than I expected, but I hope it gives you some insight into why I keep gravitating to that ship! As far as I can tell, it's a pretty uncommon one and it's like - just something that worked its way into my brain and now I'm obligated to include it literally everywhere!

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

Siren Song (Song Mingi)

Ateez Masterlist                                                    Group Masterlist

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MINGI!!!!! I hope he has an amazing day

I wrote this being incredibly inspired and I quite like how it turned out so please let me know what you think

Tags: Pirate au! Mingi x Fem siren! Reader, death, nudity, alcohol

Smut tags: Quite soft, explorative, Mingi is curious, oral (reader receiving), passionate sex, body worship, a lot of kissing, cumming inside

Word count: 6177

Sirens, they were a beautiful myth. A story that sailors told to convince themselves they weren’t going mad at sea. A legend... if that’s what you believed in. 

But they weren’t a legend, they were very real. Some pirates and sailors would tell you that, tell you their stories. That they had heard their beautiful songs at sea and were almost lured in. Although not many, if any believed them. Being a pirate or at sea for a long period of time makes a man lose his credibility. However sirens, were very very real. 

Mingi was new to the boat, a fresh faced, wide eyed, young man who was ready to see the world. Becoming a pirate wasn’t something he had planned, it’s not something anyone truly plans. But society had failed him, because of his status. Being accused of something he didn’t do and found guilty, he didn’t have a choice but to run. Mingi feared nothing more than death, if he was caught he’d surely be hanged. 

No, becoming a pirate was never what he had planned. After running, he stowed away on a goods ship and somehow found himself in a pirate hotspot. Surrounded by pillagers, murderers and some things even possibly worse, he was terrified. Until a cheery man approached him named Kim Hongjoong, had a proposition for him, an offer to get Mingi out of there and give him a family. A man in his position could hardly say no. 

Now he was here, staring over the rails of the ship as they sailed slowly over misty water. He hadn’t been on waters like this in his entire life. They were filled with mystery, so much so it gave Mingi the feeling of fear in the pit of his stomach. 

“Carefull, lean over too far and you might fall in.” Yunho joked as he placed some crates on the deck. “I could’ve sworn I saw-” “You saw something in the water? Not uncommon in these parts.” Yunho told the younger, watching his expression shift. Mingi was a bit paranoid, you had to be when you’re life took a turn the way his did. 

“It’s common here?” Mingi asked, feeling a wave of security flow over him. He was just relieved to know he wasn’t the only one seeing things. “Very common. Don’t scare him Yunho, you were just as scared as him the first time you came here.” Captain Hongjoong’s voice startled the both of them, making them whip their heads around. “Sorry captain, I couldn’t help myself.” Yunho apologized and the captain shook his head with a smile. “Go bring those crates down to storage, Yeosang is waiting on them.” Yunho wasn’t one to disobey orders, so he grabbed them and left. 

“Don’t let them make you crazy. Or this part of the sea. I’ve known plenty of men who’ve gone crazy in these parts. I like you Mingi, don’t let yourself become one of them.” Hongjoong placed his hand on the younger’s back and watched as he smiled at him. “I won’t, Captain.” Mingi laughed slightly, feeling more at ease by the second. Hongjoong smiled at him in return before going to walk away, only to turn back at the last moment. “If you hear the sweet song of a woman, ignore it.” 

All that ease Mingi felt suddenly disappeared at those words, because well he didn’t quite understand what he meant. Siren’s weren’t common knowledge or a local myth in the town he grew up in. 

Scared, the man backed away from the railing and carried on with his tasks. Ignoring any sound that came from anywhere other than the ship. He was so immensly paranoid now , but there was also something in the back of his mind that his crew mates were just messing with him.

That evening, he found himself drinking with Wooyoung and San, admittedly his first mistake. He didn’t know how it was possible but with those two, he found himself drinking way more than he normally would. At least he was a happy drunk, cheery as ever this way and almost forgetting the reason he was there in the first place. The crew felt like real friends however, similar to one’s he had before running away so he didn’t quite have the right to complain. 

Mingi placed his bottle down on the deck and swayed over to the side of the boat. He felt like he was going to be sick, not that Wooyoung and San would’ve noticed. No they had long fallen asleep like the rest of the crew

Leaning over the deck, he looked at the black water. It was terrifying to him because of how deep it was. He couldn’t see anything, just a sea of black surrounding him. If he wasn’t nauseous before, he most definitely was now. 

When he looked back at the water, he wasn’t expecting to see eyes looking back at him. Let alone warm eyes, full of life, blinking at him from the water. It was a woman seemingly bobbing along and just watching him. He could only see her face and he wasn’t even sure he was actually seeing it. 

“It’s the alcohol.” He mumbled to himself, blinking and rubbing his eyes. But she didn’t disappear from sight. As a matter of fact, it seemed like she had swam closer. “Are you a pirate?” Her voice was smooth, warm in contrast to the brisk air and it made her all the more real. Mingi was frozen, just staring back at her with wide eyes and taking in the details. 

It seemed like she was surrounded by light, it reflected off of her damp skin as she raised her head and body more. Now exposing her bare shoulders, he realised she wasn’t wearing any clothing and averted his eyes, but only for a moment. He had caught something out of the corner of his eye, something silver that reflected the moon light. 

It was a shiny, silver tail that practically glowed. The closer he looked, the more he noticed that it was attached to her and well the more his fear rose. Though he wasn’t sure what the fear stemmed from, if it was not knowing what this creature was, or that he thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“What are you?” He asked, staring at her with an intrigued expression. Mingi couldn’t help but get goosebumps as she laughed, throwing her head back and expelling the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “That’s not a very kind question... though in hind sight I asked you the same thing.” She said, lifting her hands to move her long wet hair from her face. This left her body even more exposed to him, as she bobbed along the water. Though she didn’t seem fazed by it one bit. 

“How about this, you answer my question and I’ll answer yours?” She rebutted and Mingi stood with his mouth agape. “Alright.” He barely choked out and watched as she disappeared under the water, only to appear closer to the ship again. Now that she was closer, he could see her face better and he felt himself get nervous. She was beautiful, an ethereal being. 

“Are you a pirate?” She asked again, a curious smile on her face as she looked up at him. “I am.” Mingi responded, watching as she clapped her hands in joy. “Oh I do so much like pirates. So much more interesting than fishermen.” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke and Mingi was lost, as if she had cast spell. “Their stories are so much more interesting.” She added on before locking eyes with him once more. 

“Your turn.” She smiled at him and Mingi dried his hands on his pants, the situation had caused a cold sweat to form. “What are you?” His question was simple, yet still made the woman laugh again. “Surely a pirate knows a siren when he sees one, though if that was the case you probably would’ve tried to kill me.” She rambled as her tail splashed the dark water lightly. “A siren?” Mingi asked, not quite having heard the word before. “A siren... surely you’ve heard of them. You must be quite new to sea.” She said softly, the young pirate intrigued her. 

“Tell me your name, handsome pirate.” She asked softly and Mingi felt himself doubt whether he should tell her. She somehow managed to see right through him, however she called him handsome and that made a feeling bubble in the pit of his stomach. “Mingi.” He said it softly, merely a whisper, one he didn’t think she could hear. “Mingi.” She repeated much to his surprise. “Mingi... I like the way that feels to say.” She added on and he leaned down a bit more, trying to get closer to her. 

“Mingi, make sure to ask your crew about sirens.” She giggled before disappearing underwater, only to appear further away. Mingi’s heart sank, not wanting her to go, not yet. “Wait! Wait! At least tell me your name!” He called out to her, watching as she halted once more. She turned to look at him and with small laugh, she told him. “Y/N, my name is Y/N.” 

Mingi couldn’t find sleep, not at all after that. There was question in his mind whether all that he saw that night really happened. He had drank a lot and he had been at sea longer than ever before. It must’ve been a dream, a vision even. You were a dream, a vision. 

“Did you drink that much last night?” Captain Hongjoong asked, staring at his younger crew mate. He was gazing off into the distance, eyes small due to lack of sleep and hands restless. “No, I just couldn’t sleep.” Mingi admitted, not quite wanting to ask anyone about what he had seen. But if anyone would tell him seriously, it would be the captain. 

“What’s bothering you?” The man could tell when something was bothering his crew and it was incredibly obvious that something was bothering him. “It’s just something San and Wooyoung said yesterday...” “I told you not to listen to their stories.” The captain laughed and Mingi shook his head. “No, I just- what are sirens?” Mingi choked out the question, the thing that had been on his mind all night. Hongjoong wasn’t expecting the question to lead here, he thought the man knew.

“You don’t know? I thought you did when I made my comments yesterday.” He watched as the younger shook his head. “Well, many think they’re legend. I suppose I understand why, the brain refuses to believe what it can’t see. But they are very much real.” He paused and Mingi was starting to become scared. Maybe it was his captain’s tone of voice, or maybe it was the validation that you weren’t a figment of his imagination. 

“They’re beautiful beings, more beautiful than any of the other evil things put on this earth. Top half of a beautiful woman and the bottom half a tail. Not to mention their voices, they lure sailor men in with their song and beauty. Only to drag them to bottom of the ocean and drown them. Most sailors fall for it, they just want a kiss from the beautiful thing so that when they go back home they have a story to tell. Fools, can’t blame the creatures for doing it.” Mingi was mortified at his captain’s words. To think he found you to be the most beautiful thing in the world. The prettiest things were the deadliest, that was what Mingi was starting to learn. 

Mingi took the words as warning, if you appeared again he wasn’t going to give you the time of day. At least that’s what he told himself. Despite the tale, he wanted to see you again. So badly, he found himself dreaming about you. His eyes deceived him as stared out at the sea, he could have sworn he saw the sunlight reflect off of your silver tail.

But he had to push the to the side, there was an island incomming. It was nothing more than a small island, no living thing in sight. Nothing but beaches and trees, good enough to hunt and good enough to make sure the men didn’t go crazy on board. Which meant everyone around was scrambling around and preparing to drop the anchor. 

His eyes were glued on the water as they rowed to shore. Mingi was entirely sure he would never see you again, they had travelled quite far in the last 2 days and well it’s not like you had a reason to stick around. He was sure of it, but he didn’t want to be right. 

The plan was to stay on the island over night, sleep in the tree line and then go back in the morning once they had gathered enough and hunted enough. Simple enough.

Well, night rolled around quickly and the crew was sound asleep. Everyone except Mingi, no he had hardly slept a wink since you visited him. He simply laid in his hammock and counted the stars through the tree tops. That was until he heard a song. An absolutely heavenly voice coming from the shore. 

Mingi knew he shouldn’t have gotten up, he knew it. But there was a chance that it was you and he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to see you again, despite what his captain had told him. 

The sand crunched beneath his boots as he slowly walked over to the shore line, scanning the beach and looking for the source of the voice. Looking over, he could see a group of rocks and on top of the largest one, he spotted it. That familiar glow of your tail in the moonlight and the way you looked up at the sky and sang. 

Waling slowly, he listened to your song and your beautiful voice as you stared at the night sky. The closer he got, the more he found his chest aching. He couldn’t tell if it was with fear or desire and that line got more blurred the closer he got. 

“Mingi!” Your voice was cheery when you noticed him approaching you and it was accompanied with an enthousiastic wave. “Surely Y/N isn’t as malicious as Hongjoong told me.” He thought to himself as he stood in front of the rock. You were as beautiful as ever, sitting in front of him. 

“I was hoping you’d be the one to come and find me.” She teased, a soft smirk on her lips as Mingi tried not to gawk at you. “You’re even more handsome up close.” She added on and he felt himself get nervous. “You told me to ask my crew what a siren was. I did.” Mingi told you, playing with his hands so he had something else to look at. “Hmm and what did they tell you?” You were staring at him, truly wanting him to look at you again. 

When Mingi finally brought his eyes back to you, he noticed that your tale was gone, now showing a pair of legs and a very, very bare body. “How?-” He stuttered and you laughed, loving the surprise on his face. “They apparently didn’t tell you everything. if we’re dry and on land, we have legs.” You explained, watching as his eyes trailed over your body. 

“Are you going to kill me?” Mingi asked, finding it better to be straightforward from this point on. It’s better to have feigned confidence than nothing at all. “No. You fascinate me. I don’t kill the things that fascinate me.” You were so blunt about it, raking your hands through your hair. “Come here, pirate and tell me your story. It’s not every day a pirate doesn’t know the legend of a siren. Whether they believe it or not.” Mingi was caught off guard, not sure what to do. The sea was far enough away, which comforted him because he knew you couldn’t drown him on this rock. 

He moved to sit across from you on the rock and tried to avoid staring at your bare body, averting his eyes before shrugging off his vest and handing it to you. “I’m sorry, I’m having a hard time concentrating.” Mingi stuttered, you smiled at him though and an odd feeling shot through your chest. “Most sailors would simply enjoy.” You said and slipped the clothing over your shoulders. Mingi shook his head, a small smile now forming over his own lips. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy it.” He clarified and looked at you wearing his clothes. You were beautiful. 

“You’re a different type of man, Mingi.” Why his name sounded so good coming from your lips, he had no idea. But it was absolutely addicting. 

“How did you end up out here?” You asked, stretching your legs and leaning back. You loved a good story, where as your sisters didn’t quite like talking but preferred a siren’s typical methods. 

“This wasn’t how my life was supposed to be, I wasn’t supposed to end up here.” Mingi had te delve deep for a moment. Sure some of the crew knew his story, but it wasn’t something he told just anyone. 

“I lived in a town that was quite progressive, I worked under and iron smith as an apprentice. I did good, I was a good man and i just tried to make it by like anyone else.” You watched as he spoke, taking in his details and tone. He was sad. “I never tried to hurt anyone and if I did it wasn’t on deliberate. But my master, he wasn’t good. He actively tried hurting people, especially ones he hated and he didn’t hate anyone more than his own daughter. I never understood why, she was pretty, kind and well liked among the town but he hated her.” Mingi had to pause, remembering that time, remembering the sweet girl that was always so nice to him when he worked. 

“I came into the shop one day and found her, dead on the ground, strangled. Her father did it and pinned it on me. Claiming that I ‘always watched her when she was around’ and that I was ‘just wait for a chance to be alone with her’. I-” Mingi was cut off when a tear dropped from his eyes. You had placed your hand on his chin, wiping it away with your thumb. “You never touched her.” You said softly, scanning his face. “I never did, They were going to hang me for something I didn’t do. I had to run.” You continued to wipe the tears from his face, moving onto your knees to get closer to him. 

“And that’s how you ended up here.” You had heard many sad stories in your life, but none of the men had seemed nearly as regretful as Mingi did in this moment. Your hand moved from his chin to his cheek, taking in his handsome features. Even when he was upset, he was handsome. Sharp jawline coupled with a sharp nose and pillowy lips. Definitely one of the more handsome men at sea. 

“You know in your heart that you didn’t do it.” You said softly, moving your fingers to thread through his hair. Mingi found himself staring at your face, taking note of your sympathetic face. Surely you weren’t the murderous creature he was told you were. 

“My sisters aren’t fond of men, they kill them for sport. But I like hearing the stories, it takes a lot to drive a man out to sea.” You explained and gently pulled his face closer to yours. Mingi felt himself sink into your touch, allowing you to guide him into laying down with his face settled in the crook of your neck. Your skin was soft under his touch and his hands found your waist to hold onto as he relaxed. Your nails scraped over his scalp lightly, making him hum. 

“You have a pure soul.” You said softly, enjoying his touch. Mingi didn’t know what had gotten into him, he had went from being scared of you to being held by you and well he was enjoying it. Your touch was comforting. 

Your legs tangled with his, fingers still running through his hair. “Go to sleep Mingi. Dawn is almost upon us.” You whispered, kissing his forehead and allowing him to lul to sleep. Mingi had let his guard down fully for you and as ridiculous as it sounded, he was falling in love. 

The hours in your arms, were the best hours he had ever slept. Being in such a deep dream that he didn’t think even an earthquake could wake him. He dreamt that he was underwater and absolutely weightless. Just floating under the surface of chrystal clear water. You were swimming circles around him, silver tail catching the rays of light from the sun as you did so. He felt as if he was one with the ocean. 

It wasn’t until the feeling of something pushing him (quite roughly) woke him up and brought him back to reality. “Jesus Christ Mingi, we thought you’d be killed by something. What are you doing all the way out here?” Wooyoung’s voice was shrill as he yelled to wake Mingi up. “Huh?” He shot up from his position on the rock, looking around frantically for you. But you were nowhere to be found and well, neither was his vest. 

“What are you doing out here?” Wooyoung asked again and Mingi shook his head, needing to come up with a response and fast. “I uhh couldn’t sleep last night, went for a walk and then sat down here. Guess I fell asleep.” He cleared his throat and blinked at his friend. “You’ve been acting strange Mingi. Are you alright?” He asked, voice full of concern. Mingi never acted this odd, Wooyoung was worried. 

“I’m fine, just haven’t been sleeping properly.” He admitted and ran his fingers through his hair. Your touch was still lingering on his skin, he could feel you everywhere. 

“Captain wants to stay here one more night, founds some caves and a lake he wants to check out.” Wooyoung explained and Mingi nodded. “Alright, I’ll be around in a bit.” Mingi said softly, needing a moment to process some things. Where had you gone?

He had managed to pull himself together, rejoining the crew in exploring the island. Traipsing through the trees, he looked around the area and took it in. One thing he could admit was that he never would have seen half of the beautiful things he had if he had stayed in his village, you included. He couldn’t take that for granted, especially not as he was standing in front of a small waterfall that fell into a small crystal clear lake. 

“Wow.” He said quietly, feeling Hongjoong clap his hand onto his back. “Not something you see everyday.” His captain said, a big smile on his face. Mingi couldn’t help but crack a smile himself, shaking his head. “Definitely not something you see everyday.” He laughed, looking over to the waterfall and laughing. The bad feeling he had had about you was gone, the bad feeling in his gut was gone. Airing his worries out to you made him feel better, things were looking up in his opinion. Maybe he would sleep properly from now on too. 

The pirates made camp near the water and Mingi found himself once more staring into water. It was so clear but you couldn’t see the bottom. It was deceptively deep, someone could easily make the mistake of swimming too deep and not make it back up for air. It looked like the water from his dream.  

The feeling of gentle fingertips gliding over his cheek woke him up that night. He knew his crew wouldn’t spare him the same gentle touch, it had to be you. “Wake up handsome.” Your fingertips moved from his cheek to his chin, stroking it gently as you took in features. Truly handsome. 

“Where’d you go this morning?” Mingi asked, eyes opening slowly to see your face. He watched as your lips curled into smile and your eyes sparkled. “Come on.” You said softly, taking his hand into yours. Pulling Mingi from his bed, he didn’t even question it. He had decided that this island was his paradise. 

“You stole my vest.” Mingi commented once they were further away from the rest of the crew. He watched you let out a hearty laugh and turn around to look at him. “I found myself quite liking it. I think i could get used to this clothing thing.” You smiled, before tugging him closer to you. 

He felt his breath hitch for a moment as your chest met his, it was a natural reaction. The only thing keeping his body from yours was his vest, naturally he was flustered. Mingi pressed his chest against you, the weight of his body making you step backwards until your back hit a boulder. 

“You keep calling me handsome.” Mingi remarked, his hand coming up to rest on your bare hip. It was the first time a man’s touch had made goosebumps form over your skin. “You keep calling me handsome and I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful I think you are.” His words made you almost shiver. Of course you had heard them all before, he wasn’t your first pirate or sailor. But surely they had a different effect on you than most. 

You grabbed his chin again, this time with more force than any of the other times. Mingi flinched slightly only to find your lips not inches apart from his and he took the risk. He was going to kiss a siren. 

He didn’t intend to kiss you so roughly, but need took over as he pressed his lips to yours. You moved your hands to his hair and gently scratched over his scalp as he kissed you. Deepening the kiss as you did so, you could feel him hum against your lips. His hand moved up, from your hip to your waist underneath vest and his grip tightened slightly. 

Mingi moved his hands down to your thighs, lifting you off the ground to lay you down on your back. The vest had shifted, being useless in covering you up at this point, so you simply took it off. He sat on his heels as you wrapped your legs around his waist, not wanting his body to leave yours. You simply looked up at him as he looked over your body, his regularly soft expression having turned dark and intense. It made heat pool inbetween your legs. 

Reaching up, you undid the ties on his shirt and tugged it off of him. The action made him laugh before he leaned down and pressed his bare chest to yours. His hands moving your hair out of your face before kissing you again. This kiss was so much more intense, teeth clashing and hips rolling into yours. Not to mention the feeling of his bare skin on yours, you were infatuated with him. 

His pants didn’t do much for hiding how much he enjoyed you, bulge pressing directly into your bare core. You let out a gasp at the pressure, making him nip at your lips before trailing the kisses down your jaw. He wasn’t horribly experienced but he knew enough and well he seemed to be doing just fine. That gave him a confidence boost, not to mention every little sound coming out of your mouth, boosted his confidence even more. 

“Mingi-” You hummed, feeling his lips over your neck. The kisses were gentle, soft praises being whispered inbetween them. “So beautiful.” He said softly and groaned as you tugged harshly on his hair. Mingi looked you in the eyes and flashed a smile in your direction. “Where did you learn how to kiss like that?” You asked, your fingers tracing over his lips. “I had a life before this.” He chuckled before turning his face back to your skin. 

His hands moved to massage your breasts, thumbs swiping over your nipples before latching his lips over one. Sucking at your skin and sending a wave of pleasure through your body and making your arch your back. 

Mingi was absolutely straining in his pants now, your body was perfect to him as if you were made for him. Your soft skin, your precious lips and your gentle hands, you were everything he had always wanted. 

Your fingers threading through his hair got a bit harsher the more he flicked his tongue of your nipple, you already felt like you were on fire. He moved his lips down over your stomach before stopping at before your core. This was something he had never done, but something he had always wanted to do. 

Spreading your thighs a little further, he settled between your legs and wrapped his arms around them. “What are yo- Oh.” You moaned, feeling the light kiss on your core. It almost made you feel lightheaded and dizzy, as his tongue delved deeper. Licking up your juices, he couldn’t help but moan. Perhaps it was because of what you were, or maybe you truly were built for him, but you tasted sweet and addictive. He wanted more of you. 

You raised your hips, guiding your core over his tongue and moaning out. “Mingi please don’t stop.” You moaned out, needing to feel that sweet sweet release. it was the way you moaned out his name, repeatedly like you were saying a prayer, he wasn’t going to stop until you came. He pulled you closer to his face, harshly and showed you that he truly wasn’t planning on stopping. 

The coil in your stomach quickly burst, making your hips buck as you tried to pull away from him. The whines coming out of your mouth were music to his ears as he continued to lick over your core, lapping up every bit of your juices that he could and finally pulling away. 

You looked at him as he sat on his heels again, lower part of his face glistening with your juices and breathing heavily. “Did that also get taught to you from your life before this?” You asked, sitting up to undo his pants. His arms hung at his sides and he simply let you do it for him. “Actually, I’ve never done that before.” Mingi admitted, making your actions halt. It felt entirely too good for it to have been his first time. You raised an eyebrow at him before pushing him back, making him lay on the ground. 

“I feel like you’re lying to me.” You said, tugging his pants down and watching his cock spring up. “I don’t lie.” He said and you shook your head. You straddled him, your core right over his and you braced your hands on his chest. “All men lie.” You whispered, leaning down and placing a quick kiss on his lips. His hands moved to your ass and helped you sink down onto him. “I like to think I’m not like all men. Especially not what you’re used too” He groaned, finally being enveloped in you. You took a moment to let your body adjust to his, breathing through the stretch and feeling a warmth in your chest as his fingers laced with yours. It was a comforting action, to distract you from the discomfort however slight it was. Maybe Mingi wasn’t like all men. 

You raised his hands over his head, pinning them there with your own as you started raising your hips. Allowing yourself to bounce on him, you felt so incredibly full. Filling you up completely and making your legs shake slightly but you put that to the side. It felt too good to stop. 

Mingi was even more convinced than before that you were made for him with the way you squeezed him. You released his hands and placed yours back on his chest, needing more support as you continued to ride him. He was hitting that sweet spot inside of you with every little bit he raised his hips to meet your thrusts. 

“You feel so good.” Mingi moaned out, hands pulling your chest flush against his. he planted his feet on the ground, fucking up into you and taking over. He was chasing his own high, needing a harsher pace and leaving you stuttering. 

You watched his face, from his shut eyes to his clenched jaw. That alone was almost enough to make you orgasm again. You kissed his lips to hide your moans as you felt them getting louder, his crew still being only a small distance away. He kissed you in return as his own stomach filled with warmth. He was so close to release and just needed that little bit to send you both over the edge. Your hand found his hair once more, tugging it in response to a harsh thrust and that did it. His hips stuttered and deep groans left his lips as he planted himself deep inside of you. Orgasm coating your walls and sending you over the edge with him. 

You lay there ontop of him, feeling incredibly full as he stroked your hair. “You are different from most men.” You mumbled softly, feeling a wave guilt come through you. “Most men don’t care the way you do.” Your words shrunk in volume even more, guilt and shame taking over you. Maybe it was guilt over your past actions, the men you had dragged to the bottom of the ocean, maybe it was about what you were going to do. 

Mingi helped you get off of him, watching you lay down next to him. You rested your head on his chest and he stroked your hair. The few times he had been with someone this way, yes they had been special. But nothing quite like this, Mingi was overwhelmed with love. 

“Y/N?” His tone sounded questioning, almost as unsure as the first night he had met you. “I think I might be in love with you.” He confessed, the feeling in his chest no longer being contained. He really couldn’t help himself, the last few days had been filled with you. Not just physically, but you were in his heart. You were speechless at his words, the guilt now eating you alive. 

“Come with me.” You said, pushing yourself off of the ground. Mingi couldn’t care anymore, not if you were completely bare or if he was. No, he only knew he would follow you anywhere. 

“Where are we going?” He asked, as you lead him towards the lake. “I feel sticky, I want to go for a swim.” You told him, hardly being able to look him in the eyes anymore. “Join me.” You added on, holding his hand gently, you stood before the water together.

 “Hey.” Mingi said softly, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks and make you look at him. You hadn’t even realised it, but tears were falling over your cheeks. “What’s wrong?” He asked, those beautiful brown eyes boring holes into your own. You had never felt this guilty before. “Nothing’s wrong...” Your voice trailed off and looked to his lips once more. You started walking forward, making him walk backwards towards the water. 

He stepped in slowly, leaning forward to kiss you as he did so. “Mingi... I love you too.” You admitted, deciding that that was where the guilt stemmed from. Mingi felt his chest get warm once more, not being used to this at all but wondering how your life together could be from this point on. 

He kissed you, harshly and you sighed into it before diving forward. You both fell into the water, lips still locked and you gripped his wrist. You needed to get rid of your guilt and now was better than any other time. 

Mingi wasn’t entirely aware of how far down into the lake you had pulled him. Your hand wrapped around his wrist as your silver tail brought you both down towards the bottom quickly. 

It wasn’t until it was already too late that Mingi realised that this was his dream. Down at the bottom of a lake, the moonlight shining down through the surface as Mingi felt absolutely weightless. You let him go and swam around him, watching him blink under the water as he watched you.

He started feeling himself go lightheaded, dizzy as his lungs started to burn. He was starting to realise that his dream wasn’t a dream, it was a warning and it was now too late. Feeling his vision go dark, the last thing he saw was that silver glimmer of your tail in the moonlight and your beautiful face. 

Despite being the thing that killed him, he still thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

A/N: Again please let me know what you think! This is quite different from what I normally write. There will most definitely be typos but please,ignore those lmao

[austajunk]

Please PLEASE go into detail about how protective he is over Chiaki!! I literally am begging to finally hear someone else actually acknowledge their friendship/relationship especially after having to deal with a pretty toxic anti-bi/pan Nagito rper I was on a server with for a good part of a year! (Sorry went kinda ranty but hopefully my anguish is understandable!)

Oh my lord, you’re giving me a chance to shine with my fixations?! I can’t thank you enough! Now, please understand that this is based on my perception of the series as I’ve played through the second game twice. I’m pretty good when it comes to being the person who has unpopular opinions and ships and I know claiming that Nagito is bi/pan/Demi is probably one of them. But honestly, it comes from the desire to see this boy get as much love as possible. Because he sure needs it.

Ultimately, Nagito’s sexuality is never canonly specified, so I think whether gay, bisexual, Pansexual, or what have you, we’re all well within our rights to just have fun and see what we want to in a really flawed and relatable character. And that’s what makes it interesting.

That being said, let’s talk about Nagito and Chiaki. Friendship or romantic, I don’t think you can deny that Chiaki is at least special to Nagito in some way.

Upon replaying the second game, I’ve realized how protective Nagito actually is towards Chiaki interestingly enough.

In chapter 2, she leaves to go question Fuyuhiko but Nagito stops her and tells her not to let Fuyuhiko get rough with her. Every time Chiaki’s skills help them advance, he deeply praises her. Even after he’s stopped praising all the others (which he does mostly after Chapter one, hinting he does not like some of them as actual people). But for some reason, especially during the trials, Nagito is quick to jump in and mention how wonderful Chiaki is and compliment her (only to be usually cut off by someone when he starts to ramble).

It should also be noted that Chiaki and Nagito both share an appreciation for games. Nagito seems to like more luck-based games for obvious reasons, but he also mentions that like Chiaki, he likes the Twilight Syndrome series. Both of them similarly state that they felt Monokuma was butchering a favorite game of theirs.

They also both have an odd way of trying to cheer Hajime up and joke with him, the examples shown coincidentally beside one another. Chiaki says she’s gonna look for a dirty book, throwing Hajime off and Nagito “jokingly” tells Hajime to lick his boots and now to him, but Hajime is extremely put off when he claims it was a joke. These oddballs get each other in the weirdest of ways is what I’m saying. They’re both incredibly antisocial, but their hearts are reaching the same place too when they try to make an effort.

In chapter 4, when Chiaki teams up with Nagito and Kazuichi, then leaves because they’re both being clingy, Nagito quickly follows and chases after her to make sure she’s okay. Then he chastised her for running off, looking deeply concerned. Even after his attitude change, he will answer her more directly and not ignore her. When she tells him to be quiet, he politely obeys... or maybe it’s because he’s deep in thought about her motives as he mentions he was watching the trial carefully to decide on who the traitor is.

I may just be mentioning this because they’re my OTP, but if you know about their school time together and pay attention to Nagito’s Hope versus Chiaki’s Hope, I think it’s fascinating.

Okay, now let’s head into Danganronpa 3 territory. Now this is the part where I am the most shaky as I’m still trying to determine what I take canon from this series. The thing is, a friend who got me into the series informed me that the production was way rushed and that Kodaka never wanted to do the anime in the first place. But! That being said, Chiaki and Nagito have some great moments in this and the anthology comics along with it, so let’s get into some stuff.

First of all, Nagito warmly mentions that Chiaki being their class rep makes her the true Hope of their class. And you can tell he’s serious because as he’s saying it, he’s doing that thing where he’s staring at his hand desperately like he wants eat it. You know the look.

Moving on, it’s clear that aside from Chisa, Chiaki is the only one to value and treasure Nagito. And this makes sense. In her own dying words, she loves her classmates. They are the world to her. All of them. And of course, she loves Nagito too with all her heart. As evidenced as she cradled him protectively in her arms while he’s injured. At first when Chiaki and the others are determined to stand up to Junko and get their teacher back, Nagito pleads with Chiaki not to. That his luck could not overcome them. He knows they can’t win in this situation and I do think he was actually trying to talk Chiaki out of it. But of course, when Chiaki pushes back and says she wants to go anyways, he literally can’t help himself when it comes to wanting to see Hope shine. So he agrees and praises her again because of course he does.

Until it all leads to the Pain Train with Despair coming out on top. Chiaki is brutally slaughtered and we see something new from Nagito. He breaks down crying. Tears are streaming madly down his face as a forced and twisted smile appears on his lips. He even beseeches Chiaki’s name. “You understand right? You know you’re a stepping stone for Hope!” “What has been done to Nanami is unforgivable...” Nagito’s already trying to cope. To rationalize something horrible that he just witnessed in his mind. He’s trying to protect himself as he’s utterly being destroyed and breaking down like all of his classmates. Chiaki’s death literally shatters his mind. It’s a pretty well done scene even if I’m not a big fan of the brainwashing stuff. Not to mention, the way he says “You understand right, Nanami?” As if he’s begging for her forgiveness as he falls apart. It’s so very very tragic. And of course, when being made apart of the Neo World Program, his desire to see Chiaki once more, just one more time like his classmates, brings her back to him(and the other classmates) in AI form.

Honestly... it’s pretty beautiful. Chiaki is apart of Nagito in some way and is imprinted into his mind and heart. He longed to see her as much as everyone else. This person, who doesn’t seek out relationships because his luck either gets them killed or he finds their Hope to be too weak, has a connection with Chiaki like that. This is literally a person who believes his life is just a stepping stone for better and more worthy people, someone who knows their existence is a formality at this point. And still, he does have connections. There are people capable of caring about him and loving him and Chiaki was one of those people. And he wanted to see her again in the Neo World Program. Like Chiaki said, it’s no less than miracle.

But alas, this is getting rather long, isn’t it? Well in the D3 anthology, Nagito also is concerned when Chiaki avoids eating because of her hyperfixation on gaming. Chiaki skipping out on self care?! Not cool, Chiaki. And so he challenges her to a game to make sure she’ll eat lunch. Fucking protective as hell. And yes yes, the anthology isn’t canon... but that’s the thing about Danganronpa. The series is over. Any additional info and stuff added to it is meant to enrich the experience for the fandom, so it’s canon to me. What’s the fandom gonna do? Whine at me and tell me it isn’t? That Nagito wouldn’t do these things when official anthologies and content that’s sold for Danganronpa tells me he would? So... yeah.

Ultimately, whether you ship them or not, I think this fandom is missing out on the Komanami side of things and how good their relationship is when you really observe it. :3

[helbertinelli]

Anidala on Mustafar

The Mustafar scene between Anakin and Padme is one of my favorite Anidala scenes (not in the way that I enjoy watching it, but I enjoy how much thought and details have been put into it). It’s extremely heartbreaking, but it starts out with both of them being very loving towards one another, and then that part happens and it rips your heart out. But the acting for it is absolutely amazing and there’s so many details that go on in that scene. There’s a lot of parallels between this and other Anidala scenes in the movies, I might get into that, or might not, depending on where I go with this.

The way the scene starts is so beautiful, with both of them running towards each other and embracing. Anakin is at this point full Sith basically, and he just killed everyone at the temple and everyone on Mustafar, and we see in previous scenes that his actions are tormenting him. But then he sees Padme and he’s so happy that he sees her and he runs to her and hugs her. This is similar to their first scene in this movie when Anakin comes back from rescuing Palpatine and he runs to Padme and hugs her. We still have Anakin very much in love with Padme at this point and I love that George Lucas had Anakin still be loving to her even after he turned. We see this both after the attack on the temple when he goes to her on her balcony, and then at the beginning of the Mustafar scene. From these we can see that Anakin isn’t all evil, that there’s still a good part to him. Looking at their Mustafar hug but from Padme’s perspective we see that she knows from Obi-Wan that Anakin is behind the temple attack (I’m not entirely clear whether she believes it at this point or not) but she’s still very much in love with Anakin at this point and she’s offering him to run away together. Despite everything that Anakin did, he’s not some villain or some Sith lord to her. He’s just her husband and she needs him in her life because she loves him so much. We see that despite Padme being rational and logical as a senator, she’s letting her emotions guide her whenever Anakin is involved. We see Padme as not just a politician (like we see Bail for example, who has already made plans on how to get the Republic back), but as a person, who is deeply in love and (like Anakin) is willing to give everything up to save that love. Padme going to Mustafar, shows that Anakin is her main priority. It’s not saving the Republic yet, it’s not helping anyone else, but Anakin.

Then the second thing I want to talk about is Padme (again). During the entire scene, she is constantly touching Anakin. She’s caressing his arms, his hair and she holds on to him as they talk. Both Anakin and Padme are very tactile with each other. They express their affection through touches, as we see in other scenes too. I can’t really remember specific scenes of Padme touching Anakin in the movies, but in the AOTC book, she does touch him a lot to express affection even before they are a couple. That’s her way of telling him that she loves him, so her constant touches on Mustafar, is basically Padme repeating to Anakin over and over and over again that she loves him.

Then there’s Anakin’s speech about ruling the galaxy with Padme and this is a contrast I guess, to their first scene in ROTS again. In their first meeting, Padme is worried about being pregnant and how this will affect them. Anakin smiles at her and reassures her and she’s happy again and smiling too. Then on Mustafar, we have Padme again worried about basically everything that Anakin did and everything else that happened too. Anakin starts his speech about not having to hide anymore (which is something they’ve discussed during their first meeting too... so there’s another callback to that scene) and he’s smiling at her as he rambles on about them ruling together and fixing things. I think his smile here is part Anakin giving in to his delusions and part him trying to reassure Padme that this is a good thing and she has nothing to worry about. However, unlike in their first scene, his smile doesn’t reassure her, but it actually pushes her away from him. It creates more worries and more pain to see him smiling about it. I’m going to go on a tangent here and basically summarize the last 24-ish (or maybe more or less) hours for Padme...

Palpatine, the person she helped indirectly to become Chancellor and indirectly helped him being awarded emergency powers, turned into a tyrant. Anakin killed all the Jedi and turned to the dark side, because of her (she knows this since Anakin basically tells her “I did this for you”). Then Obi-Wan comes out of her ship and as far as Padme knows Obi-Wan is here to kill Anakin and she’s basically responsible for what might happen to Anakin or Obi-Wan (and Anakin does accuse her of this, but I think she is thinking it too because she looks absolutely mortified to see Obi-Wan).

But anyway, ignoring the Obi-Wan parts for now and going back to the post. At this point, Padme probably feels responsible and guilty for what happened, both to the Republic and to Anakin because he said he did this for her (just to make a note here, I don’t think Padme is right in feeling guilty for any of these things because they were all out of her control). And it’s not what she wanted, or how she imagined things would go. She probably feels like she’s failed both Anakin and the Republic. Especially Anakin, because she could see the results of him turning to the dark side right in front of her. Anakin’s smile doesn’t soothe her like it used to, but it causes her pain because of what he has become.

Then we have Padme’s speech about Anakin breaking her heart and it’s very similar in a way to her AOTC speech to him on Naboo after he confesses his love for her. Both of them are basically Padme trying to steer Anakin off a dangerous path. However in AOTC, she’s basically trying to push him away from her and onto his current path as a Jedi. In this scene, she’s trying to pull him back to her and off his current path as a Sith. And at the end she tells him that he’s a good person and that she loves him. Despite everything he did and everything he just said to her (his speech that was so horrible to hear), she still believes he’s a good person and she still loves him. She’s not lying, she’s not telling him things he wants to hear or things she thinks he wants to hear, she never did that. She’s sincere with how she feels about him and she’s always seen him as a good person, even after her killed the Tusken raiders and even now. And she loved him then and she still loves him now. Her telling him she loves him (present tense) is also in contrast with Obi-Wan telling him at the end of their duel that he loved him (past tense). It shows that Padme’s love for Anakin isn’t conditional and she will always love him, regardless of what he does.

Now we can look at the Obi-Wan part and we see Padme looking horrified when she sees Obi-Wan on the ramp of her ship. She’s not just feeling betrayed by Obi-Wan for hiding on her ship to come to Mustafar, but she’s probably thinking that she’s really going to lose Anakin now because Obi-Wan will try to kill him... or that Anakin will try to kill Obi-Wan (although I don’t think Padme thinks Anakin is truly capable of killing someone who was so close to him) and then she will lose her friend and Anakin will lose his father (we know that she knew Anakin thought of Obi-Wan as a father).

Then there’s Anakin choking her and this is such a powerful moment. Because we know that Padme only loved Anakin and she’s trying to pull him back to light, but he’s too far gone. He doesn’t trust her anymore, he doesn’t believe her when she tells him she loves him. Anakin choking her is him basically crossing the point of no return because he claims he did all this for her (and there’s no doubt that saving her was his sole reason for turning to the dark side), but now he’s become so consumed by the dark side, that he turns against her and he hurts her.

Earlier in the scene, Anakin tells Padme something like “don’t you turn against me too“, but she was only there to help him, she wanted to be on his side and run away with him. She didn’t want to hurt him and she would have never tried to hurt him. She was just there to take him away from the Emperor and from Obi-Wan and from everyone else and she was there because she loves him. And it’s Anakin actually who ends up turning against her and hurting her.

The Mustafar scene is also very interesting because before this, we see Anakin throwing everything away to save Padme. And then her going to Mustafar, it’s Padme throwing everything away to save Anakin. She knows she won’t be able to continue living the same life she was living, or to keep her career, or anything else if she and Anakin run away together and she’s ready to throw all of that away because to her, none of that is as important as her being with Anakin. I know this won’t sit right with some people, but Padme was just as desperate as Anakin was to save their relationship and to stay together.

[star-killer-md]

Actus Reus, Mens Rea

@contesa-lui-alucard asked:

Hey hey happy sleepover my friend!! If it’s alright with you, I have two prompts from the Smut list that I’d love to see you combine for... mob Kylo and lawyer reader! Oh snap!! 15 & 37, if you please. If not, no worries, I still hope you have an awesome sleepover 😁 (“Make it hurt, baby.” + “Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.”)

Anon asked:

hello, may i request clingy/possessive kylo,, thank you

Thank you lovlies for your requests and sorry from the bottom of my depressed ass heart that it took me so fucking long. Anyway here ya go, hope you enjoy some mobster Kylo deliciousness. I’m so excited you liked him Contesa, and I hope you’re into it as well too nonny! Sorry it got long, I truly have no control over that. 

And thank you so much to @sacklersdoll for reading over this for me!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angst (its me), Smut (its me), mentions of predator/prey dynamic (mostly as metaphor), possessive Kylo Ren, semi-public sex, no pronouns for the reader by they are afab, dominant Kylo Ren, some brat vibes, Kylo Ren is not nice, allusions to guns, some sorta stalking behavior

Ship: Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: You’ve started to take on some pro bono clients as a favor to a friend and Kylo Ren is Not A Fan™ of all the attention this guy has been paying you. After a few months of consulting on the side, you’re beginning to wonder if life working for a mob boss is something you’re really cut out for. Though you quickly learn that you very well may have passed the point of no return when Kylo shows up at your office to remind you just who exactly you work for. 

“I really can’t thank you enough.”

You shook the woman’s hands and returned her smile. Her son stayed quiet, looking at the ground, but mumbled his thanks as well. He was a good kid. Just pissed off the wrong neighbor. One of those ‘get off my lawn,’ ‘good ole American dream’ types who thought welfare was a sign of the devil, and had it out for everyone in the lower tax brackets. 

“Really, it’s no problem,” you walked them to the door, leaving her your business card. “I’ll see you both at the courthouse on Monday.” 

Evan was waiting in your office when you returned. His patent leather shoes rested precariously on the corner of your desk and you knocked them off with a huff. 

“See you’ve made yourself at home,” you said, crossing your arms and staring down at him in your chair. 

He shrugged and stood under your scrutiny, moving around to take the seat across from you. Evan Goodman was an old friend from undergrad. You often got the impression he was still that same cocky frat boy in the head. Still flashed the ‘my daddy has more money than you’ smile on occasion when he really wanted to get under your skin. With his slicked back hair, unnervingly straight teeth, and his annoying prosperity despite never putting in much effort it was somewhat shocking the two still spoke. He was simply not the type of person who had ever needed to try. Success came naturally to him, and much to your dismay.

“What can I say? You’re a very gracious host,” he mused and leaned forward on the desk. “So, how did it go?”

You sighed, “They’ll be alright, might get saddled with a fine but the charges aren’t that serious.” 

“Good, Rosa’s an old friend. I would have helped her out myself, but not really my deal ya know?”

“Yeah, Mr. Tax Attorney, I get it.” 

Evan was kind of a dick, but he was also the kind of friend who would sit on the bathroom floor with you, hold your hair back and sing horrendous parody versions of ABBA no matter who heard. So you couldn’t hate him entirely. That also meant that when he came to you with cases like this, a favor for a friend or whatever the situation may be, you had a hard time refusing. 

It was also a convenient front for you not-so-legal legal work you’d been invested in for the past few months.

“Seriously, I know I’ve been asking a lot of you recently,” he flashed you that god awful grin and kicked his feet up again. “You can tell me to fuck off if it’s too much.” 

He had been coming to you for pro bono work with increasing frequency, especially over the past month or so, but again, you didn’t wholly mind it. You went into this kind of work for a reason. Though, you were starting to get the feeling that a certain, brooding, less than lawfully abiding businessman did not feel the same. 

Kylo Ren dealt frequently with the shady, black market underbelly of capitalist society, but you were less accustomed to his world and not completely ready to throw yourself to the hounds just yet.

You had already missed more than a few meetings and canceled on dinner tonight to meet with Rosa. To be fair, it wasn’t as if he’d made any indication this ill-defined whatever-it-was going on between the two of you was anything serious. And you were only his consultant, for now, so this took precedent anyway. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. Definitely not a way to avoid thinking about fucking your boss who also happened to be in with the mob. 

Definitely not.  

“I wouldn’t have agreed to help if I couldn’t manage it,” you yawned softly and stood to collect your things. 

It was late and you were beginning to fantasize about how soft and warm your sheets would be. If you got back in time you could pop them in the dryer and get in an episode or two before bed. 

“Hey, let me at least buy you dinner or something since I kept you out so late,” Evan parked his skinny frame in your path to the doorway. 

“You’re going to apologize for keeping me out late, by keeping me out even later?”

“Do you want free food or not?”

Pursing your lips, you stared at him for a few moments. He really did know all your weaknesses. You had skipped out on meeting with Mr. Ren—or Kylo or sir or whatever the hell you were supposed to call him now—already tonight, however, Evan was sure to take you somewhere nice and it wouldn’t be so morally repugnant if it was just as a ‘thank you….’

“Okay, fine,” you conceded and let him lead you out to the parking garage, locking the office up behind you. 

***

The next morning you stumbled past reception in a haze. Both from lack of sleep, and the bitingly cold winds battering your building despite the neighboring high rises blocking the brunt of the gale. The young woman at the desk informed you tersely that a Mr. Goodman was already waiting for you in your office and that you should really get here on time if you were expecting clients this early. 

You agreed that, yes you probably should but, you know, “trains and all that mess,” and tried not to judge her too harshly. After all, she was the barrier between you and the hundreds of calls this place received daily. 

Before slipping through the door with your name plate, you hung your coat on the rack and switched your phone on. It’d died on you last night amidst the allure of fancy, late night dinner and your sleep deprivation riddled brain had not cared enough to plug it in before bed. Fuck Amazon, but thank god for its speedy delivery of portable charges. 

You chewed your lip as the lock screen came to life. One missed call and a text. Both, of course from the most anxiety inducing sender, Kylo Ren. Because why would it be anyone else? His name menacing even typed out in standard black font. 

The text read:

Meet me at 8am.

It was very much like him—a command with punctuation and absolutely no details. The message receipt showed it was sent two hours ago, and it was already half past eight. Shit. Your fingers shook as you pulled up his contact and called. Every interaction left you coursing with adrenaline. Even now, miles away listening to the dial tone was nerve-wracking. Your heart pounded, hands slick in their grip on your phone. Maybe it was because you were never sure where you stood with him. Maybe it was because he was handsome and he knew it. Strong and he knew it. Intimidating and mysterious and closer in some ways to a Greek god than a man. He was all encompassing, and filled every available space in any room he occupied. 

Sometimes you thought you might choke on his presence. 

It rang once, twice, three times before cutting out completely. You stared down at the blank screen, biting your lip and shooting off a quick text. You were sorry, something important had come up, you would meet him the second it was convenient. 

Evan slapped you heartily on the back when you came into the room. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, evergreen with small white blossoms. 

“So, how many hours did you manage last night?” he asked, smiling his shit eating smile and seemingly unaffected despite the fact that he had to be running on just as little sleep as you.  

“I’m not even sure at this point,” you groaned as you tossed your bags down behind the little metal desk. “Time ceases to exist when you take trains past midnight.”

“Fair enough. Hey look,” Evan waved the greenery in your face, “courtesy of Rosa’s shop. She insisted I bring you something as thanks. I figured you could put them out in the front or something to brighten things up.” 

“They’re lovely. Please tell me you’re only here as a glorified delivery boy.”

His shoulders slumped at your lack of amusement, but before he could quip back the landline in your office rang. You answered, holding a finger towards Evan and leaning against the edge of the desk. It was the receptionist, Jess was her name? Maybe? You could never remember, someone else always addressed the holiday gift cards anyway. 

“There’s someone here to see you at the front desk,” she clipped, almost more exasperated than before. 

You told her you’d be right there and hung up. Evan grabbed his coat as you headed out, holding the door for you and following into the hall. 

“I’ll leave you to it if you’re busy, but give me a call after Monday and tell me how it goes,” he continued rambling as you came out into the front.

You had a smart comeback prepared, something about how simple the case was, he should have more faith in you, he was the reason you were busy in the first place, etc…but every word turned to ashes on your tongue when you saw him. 

Kylo Ren, standing right there at the desk and glaring at your receptionist. His suit was dark blue and ironed to perfection. Each leg was creased perfectly down the front and the jacket sat flawlessly on his wide set shoulders. He was a wall of unimaginably expensive fabric and what looked concerning like barely contained rage. You could see it in the twitch of his eye, the set of his jaw, and in the way his gaze landed on you the second you walked in. 

The way a predator immediately hones in on its prey. 

You froze just feet from him in the lobby, floundering like a fish on a hook. 

Evan, for his part, seemed not to notice the tension at all and continued to say his long winded goodbyes, placing the flowers in your hands and completely unaware of the slow, measured tightening of Kylo’s massive hands into fists at his side. 

“I’m free on Monday evening so we should—” 

“She’ll be busy.” 

Evan frowned, turning to face the man standing before him, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Kylo’s voice was a dark thing, low and rumbling, “She will be otherwise occupied.” 

His words were punctuated by a step towards you, one paw of a hand easily gripping your entire jaw. Lucky he did too, otherwise it would have dropped straight to the floor when he shot one last cobra strike glare in Evan’s direction, and pressed his mouth to yours. Right there. In the lobby. For everyone to see.  

The absolute bastard.

His lips were pillow plump and softer than the silk lining of his suit—and even through the surge of shock and embarrassment and more than a touch of anger—you felt your heart throb at the way he licked into your mouth. 

The flowers tumbled from your hands onto the floor as everything in you went limp under his touch. This was nowhere near the first time you’d tasted him, but it was like this every time. Like drinking ambrosia. An otherworldly experience. 

But that didn’t stop the sharp pain of his crushing grip on your arm, the way he nearly lifted your feet off the floor when he pulled away to drag along behind him. You could hear Evan spluttering in the hall behind you, the receptionist going back to clacking at her keyboard as if nothing had happened. 

When Kylo opened your office door he just about threw you inside. You tripped as he tipped you in, stumbling and catching yourself on the edge of your desk. The power behind his hand alone was undeniable. You shuddered at the thought of the array of purple fingerprints he would leave behind. It made your mouth dry and your heart sink. Confusing and delicious. 

And left you seething nonetheless. 

“What the fuck was that?!” you were not calm, so you didn’t attempt any semblance of it. 

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, level as he always was. 

The quiet before the storm and all that. 

“About the meeting? I tried to call, my phone died—”

“Because you were out catching trains at all hours of the night, I’m aware.” 

You paused, glaring at the wall of muscle between you and the door, “How did you know that?”

“So you’re not denying it?”

Kylo stalked towards you like a beast in his tailored suit and polished leather shoes like talons. You could hear your heartbeat, hear the blood rushing in your ears. Just like a rabbit in the sightline of a hawk, you were clearly being hunted. 

“Why would I deny something I’m not trying to hide?” your voice came out horse as he caged you between the desk and his chest, arms on either side to block any route of escape. 

“No you are certainly not adept at subtlety,” he said and you couldn’t take your eyes off the way his tongue moved behind his teeth. “This is the fifth time that idiot in the hall has distracted you from work.”

“That’s not an answer,” you tried to spit the words but his eyes were boring into you. The honey of them spilled down your spine and made you shiver. “How did you know? You are not entitled to any information pertaining to my personal life, regardless.” 

“Watch your mouth,” he growled. “Entitlement has no part in this.”

You were entering dangerous territory, though stopping curiously did not occur to you.

“I don’t think you have the right to be throwing out commands right now, not after that display.”

“Have you forgotten who you work for?” Kylo hissed at you, hands wrapped around the metal of your desk so hard you thought it might warp under his fingers. 

“Of course not,” you desperately tried to keep your voice down lest anyone get even more a spectacle. 

“Then what is this?” one hand left the desk and pulled a phone from inside his jacket. 

The screen lit up, and you looked in horror at pictures of yourself. Pictures of yourself from last night. Pictures of yourself from last night at dinner with Evan, interspersed with shots of you crossing the street, waiting on the train platform, and stumbling back into your apartment. Each was clearer than you’d expected, presumably from some insanely expensive surveillance equipment. You had been out for hours, and you had been watched the whole time. 

You narrowed your eyes, flicking back and forth between Kylo’s face—the graceful bridge of his nose pointed down at you—and gaped. 

“You had me followed…” you breathed the words into the slowly shrinking space between your bodies. 

He simply nodded, as if, somehow, you were foolish for not having considered this before. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you had no idea what you had gotten yourself into. Perhaps you had signed on for much more than a paycheck when you agreed to work for Kylo Ren. 

“I can’t have my employees getting distracted.”

Kylo slowly drifted ever closer, shoulders bent so he was eye level with you. He pressed further into the desk, pinning you between his body and the hard surface that bit into your ass. Something long and thick and hard nudged your thigh. 

“I don’t know why you though having me followed was necessary—” 

“You’re an arrogant little slut who needs to be reminded of your priorities,” his hand snatched your leg and wrenched it open so he could stand between them, “ I am not something you do on the side.” 

You could hear the way his teeth grit out the words, the way they formed as a growl deep in his beast’s throat. The hand still settled on the desk, skimmed up your hip and chest, his fingers 

biting into your jaw. 

“Do you understand me?”

Your lips were shut tight in a thin line, eyes wide and staring up like the prey you were. The silence only provoked him more. Snarling, two thick fingers wrenched your mouth open, pressing hard on your tongue and making you gag around them. 

“Answer.” 

Kylo Ren almost always spoke in commands. Having power did that to people, and rarely did it ever compel you, but his words sunk deep into your bones. Dredged up some dark, instinctual need to obey. To submit to this show of control. 

“Yes,” you mumbled around his fingers in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips when they moved. 

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You watched him suck his teeth, grabbing your face tighter and dragging you close so he could spit directly into your open mouth. He slammed your jaw shut, nearly taking off the tip of your tongue and hissed into your ear. 

“Swallow.” 

Again, you did without a thought. And it was disgusting, but invigorating, sent off some spark in your stomach with how easily he bent your body to his will. There was no man like him, you decided. And maybe this was simply because Kylo Ren was not a man. That term alone would never do him justice. 

In one shockingly smooth motion, you found yourself flat on your back, ass hanging off the edge of the desk with his hands on your hips. He ground himself against you, the throbbing of his cock evident even through the layers of clothing. That feeling on its own had you soaked through, thighs sticking with liquid excitement. 

“Remember who you work for,” he growled into your neck, licking a long stripe up your throat and sucking at the exposed skin. 

But it was very clear to you what he really meant. 

Remember who you belong to. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth as he bit down on the skin just above your shoulder, laving his tongue over the stinging flesh. Kylo pulled back, frowning down at you and yanking the hand away from your face. One held both your wrists in a vice lock while the other ripped your panties straight down your legs and left the dripping fabric discarded on the carpet. 

“No, they’re going to hear you,” he grunted, and pulled one of your hands down, pressing it to your slit and running your fingers through your slick. “Go on, touch your fucking pussy and let them know what a little whore you are for me.” 

It was something about his voice. Something in the way it left him, its timbre, its wonder, unquestioning. You could never refuse him. 

So, with a small nod you parted your folds, head resting on a stack of files as you drew slow circles around your clit with a shaky hand. His eyes never left your cunt, tracing the movement of your finger and the trail of wetness that seeped from you to the desktop. Softly, you gasped as the familiar placement of your fingers made you clench and arch up. Kylo’s rubbed small circles into your inner thighs with his thumbs, kneading the flesh there. 

When the spark was there, the lovely pulsing in your nerves alight, you dipped down, teasing and slipping inside, grinding down as best you could on your hand. It wasn’t enough, but nothing ever was since you’d been ripped open on Kylo’s cock. 

Evidently he did not find your work sufficient either. 

Another finger joined yours, stroking your lips and circling your entrance. His touch made you whine, the promise of hands that were not your own never ceasing to illicit a new gush of pleasure. 

“I said,” he murmured, his touch so terribly feather light. “Let them hear you.” 

He was like a gunshot, sudden and forceful and almost instantly had you screaming. Kylo slammed his fingers into you, so full and so deep, curling hard against that lovely spot inside. 

“Kylo, god, please—” you moaned long and low, your face burning with the knowledge that the walls were barely thick enough to keep your phone calls private, much less the shameful noises he pulled from you. 

“What was that?” he panted, adding another finger and pumping them deep into your cunt. “You can do better.” 

Your teeth dug so hard into your lip you thought it might bleed, but you couldn’t take much more. The ledge was approaching—Kylo Ren knew it—and he was determined to push you straight into the fire. 

You choked when his deliciously thick fingers were ripped from you, walls fluttering around the awful emptiness. Your head lolled back as you listened to him work the buckle of his belt and slacks open, and when you did glance down your mouth watered at the sight. Kylo—impossibly long cock throbbing in his hand—stood between your legs, stroking himself from root to tip. You watched little pearls of precum bead at the head while his thumb swiped across to smear them along his length. 

“You are insane,” you hissed through gritted teeth. 

Did you need to keep this position? No, technically you would be more than well off on the salary Mr. Ren so graciously provided. However, you could not mentally deal with being terminated for getting dicked in your office during work hours. 

Kylo smirked, the edge of his perfect cupid’s bow cocked back and aimed straight at your chest. Without warning, he sunk into you, straight to the hilt and threw his head back as you sobbed with the sharp sting of being split in two on his cock. 

“This is what you do,” he growled into your ear, hands on either side of your head as he worked his length back out only to pound into you again. “You work for me and you take my cock and don’t ever fucking forget that.”  

Your legs were wound so tightly around his waist that had he been any other man, his ribs would have cracked under the pressure. His hair, falling in black, satin waves, was gorgeous even in the sterile office lighting. You threaded your fingers into it at the roots and held him while your body rocked against the desk. It’s metal surface pinched at your sink and made your back ache, though that was nothing compared to the burn of Kylo’s thrusts, sliding against your walls. You felt him in your throat. You always did. That was simply the way things were with him. He filled you painfully, thoroughly, took over all of your senses until it was just him. 

And, strangely, it was the most alive you’d ever felt. 

He was unlike anyone you’d ever known.

You couldn’t scream for him, but you could still let him taste the desperation, the willingness in your body to mold against him. So you kissed him, dragged him by the hair to meet your lips and licked past his teeth, gasping and moaning on his tongue as you sucked it hard and cried into his mouth. 

And he drank you down, picking up a punishing rhythm and breaking blood vessels where his hands gripped your hips. One drifted lower, thumb pressing down hard on your clit as your cunt clenched around his length. The desk was lifting off the ground with every thrust, the room filled with the wet sounds of your bodies and you were quickly melting under him. 

Warmth was spreading, growing, building out from your pussy, igniting in your veins. He was right. This is what you did. This is what he did to you. This toe curling, lip biting, bone shattering kind of pleasure. 

Oh you were so royally fucked. 

“I—oh shit—Kylo I’m,” you pulled back just enough to pant out a warning before the wave took you. 

So hot, it washed over your skin and made your legs shake and your hands leave his hair to dig your nails into his chest through the crisp white button down he wore. 

“Feel that?” he grunted as you convulsed and shuddered under him, “Feel how this pussy was made for me.” 

You nodded, buried your face in his neck and held on as he worked you through your climax and straight into his own. Once, twice he ground his cock deep in you, feeling how tight you were around him until he was spent and spilling hot, thick ropes of cum that coated your walls and dripped out around his length. 

He panted, lazily rolling his hips, fucking you slowly until finally, he came to a halt with his softening cock still sheathed inside you. Seconds past, or maybe hours, you couldn’t tell. Kylo tended to have that effect on you. Time slipped away so easily in his presence, like there was never enough of it. 

When he did pull away, you stayed with your back firmly planted amidst the mess of scattered paperwork and manila envelopes. He rose to his full, towering height and tucked himself away, straightening the wrinkles in his suit and eyeing you only once from the side. You admired his profile, you never understood until now what the meaning of the word “regal” truly was. 

Under the dictionary definition, his picture surely would be there, staring at you down the bridge of his marble carved nose. 

You sat up on your elbows as he stalked towards the door. 

“Was that all you came for?”

Kylo paused, broad back still facing you and leaving the room feeling irrevocably empty with just the intention of his absence. 

“We’ll reschedule for five tonight,” he said, filling the door frame completely. “Don’t be late.” 

The door clicked shut behind him and the sound of it made you collapse back onto the desktop. You laid there for a moment, leaking your combined spend and aching. The throb of him settled in your muscles and festered. But the worst part was the other ache, the pain of being without. And maybe you had been a bit avoidant. Maybe this work really was so you didn’t have to see him. Because if you saw him you’d end up fucking him—which was fine, which was good, which was great actually—but then he would leave. And you couldn’t decide which wanting was worse. The wanting before or the wanting after. 

Maybe it didn’t matter. 

You had more important things to think about anyway. Like securing the receptionist an incredibly large holiday bonus, assuming you still had a job here at the end of the day. 

Maybe that didn’t matter either. 

It might be high time you made a commitment to whatever the hell kind of mess you’d stumbled into. Kylo Ren was an enigma in the best kind of way. Maybe you should stop running from it. 

[bloody-bee-tea]

BeeTober 2020 Day 23

Pyjama - Letter

Letter already was a prompt this month, but luckily this word has two meanings and now it gets to be the thing that gets Mingcheng together. 

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure how he suddenly ends up being alone with Nie Mingjue but he would certainly like to change that fact. Because Nie Mingjue makes him nervous and Jiang Cheng isn’t even sure why.

“So,” Jiang Cheng awkwardly starts when it’s clear that no one will be coming back any time soon and Jiang Cheng curses his brother. And Nie Huaisang. And Lan Wangji. And Lan Xichen.

Because all of them just abandoned Jiang Cheng with the most imposing man he knows and Jiang Cheng has no idea how to handle that.

“I wonder if Huaisang and Lan Xichen are going to regret joining Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji soon,” Jiang Cheng muses, desperately fishing for anything to say.

“Why would they?” Nie Mingjue asks, still seated on the couch as if he’s not at all bothered to be left alone with Jiang Cheng.

“With how Lan Wangji can’t seem to keep his hands to himself when it comes to my brother?” Jiang Cheng asks and is surprised when Nie Mingjue laughs at him.

“Have you seen Huaisang and Xichen together?” he asks and Jiang Cheng has to admit that he hasn’t.

He knows they are a thing—however recently it may be—but he didn’t need to know that.

“And I really wish I will never,” Jiang Cheng says with a frown when the full meaning of Nie Mingjue hits him and Nie Mingjue laughs again.

Jiang Cheng can’t seem to drag his eyes away from him.

“You don’t mind it?” he asks, once Nie Mingjue calmed down again and Jiang Cheng sits back down on the couch next to him.

If two pairs have split off, then Jiang Cheng knows better than to hope for any kind of rescue. He’ll just have to push through the fluttering feeling in his stomach and be a good host to Nie Mingjue.

He probably didn’t mean to be left alone with Jiang Cheng either.

“Xichen is my best friend. I’ve known him for almost all of my life. If I can’t trust him with my little brother’s heart, then who else?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng can see his logic.

They spend a few minutes of almost comfortable silence together, before Jiang Cheng sighs.

“You’ll probably have to sleep here, tonight,” he then says to Nie Mingjue who shrugs like it’s no big deal to him.

Nie Huaisang was supposed to room with Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue were supposed to stay together, but Jiang Cheng guesses that’s off the table now.

“I don’t mind,” Nie Mingjue says, even though he eyes Jiang Cheng critically. “As long as you don’t mind it, either,” he adds and Jiang Cheng manages a smile for him.

“I don’t,” he gives back, and the fluttering in his stomach wants to proof him a liar, but Jiang Cheng pushes it away.

Nie Mingjue is not so scary as to warrant that kind of reaction from Jiang Cheng. He might not know Nie Mingjue for as long as he knows Lan Xichen or Nie Huaisang—or at least he doesn’t know him as well as he does the other two—but he knows enough about him to at least not to be afraid of him.

Nie Huaisang always calls Nie Mingjue a big softie, and neither Lan Xichen nor Nie Mingjue himself contradict his words so there must be some truth to them.

“Okay, then,” Nie Mingjue shrugs, clearly done with that topic and then gets up before he freezes.

“What?” Jiang Cheng wants to know and Nie Mingjue grimaces at him.

“My bag is still in the other room,” Nie Mingjue says, and he sounds pained.

It takes Jiang Cheng a moment to understand why, but when he does, he grimaces, too.

“You better not go back there,” he says and he shivers with just the thought of what Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen might be getting up to in there.

“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue says and eyes his clothes critically. “Guess I’ll have to sleep like this then,” he sighs and he seems fully resigned to that fact.

“Don’t be stupid,” Jiang Cheng snaps out and flushes slightly when Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow at him.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if they are at that acquaintance level where he can just be his usual rude self around Nie Mingjue, but he guesses that ship has sailed now anyway. Might as well embrace it, Jiang Cheng thinks.

“As if I’m going to let you sleep in this,” Jiang Cheng grumbles and turns around from Nie Mingjue. “I think I might have a spare toothbrush laying around as well,” Jiang Cheng muses, and he goes looking for that first.

“Aha!” he yells in triumph when he unearths it from a drawer and he throws it over to Nie Mingjue who catches it easily.

“Might as well get started with that, I will have to search for something that might fit you,” Jiang Cheng says, and he eyes Nie Mingjue critically.

He really does pack a lot of muscles. Jiang Cheng isn’t sure he even has anything in his size, but he will look for it.

As soon as he manages to drag his eyes away from the way Nie Mingjue’s biceps moves as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“See something you like?” Nie Mingjue asks him, one eyebrow raised and Jiang Cheng jerks his eyes away from him.

“Sorry,” he rambles out and almost throws himself head-first into the wardrobe.

He could swear he hears Nie Mingjue chuckle at him, but when Jiang Cheng feels composed enough to turn back around to him Nie Mingjue has left for the bathroom already.

Jiang Cheng lets out a sigh, scolds himself for acting this disrespectful and then almost overhauls his whole wardrobe in search of something that could fit Nie Mingjue.

The only thing he finds that could, maybe, fit him is one of the pyjamas Jiang Cheng gets from some distant relative every Christmas, because they are always at least two sizes to big on him. So maybe they are just big enough to not cut off any circulation on Nie Mingjue.

At least Jiang Cheng hopes it fits, because if not, then Nie Mingjue will have to sleep in some boxers and not much else and Jiang Cheng doesn’t even want to think about why that thought makes him flush.

When Nie Mingjue comes back, Jiang Cheng presents the pyjama to him.

“This is all I could find,” he tells Nie Mingjue who shrugs and takes the offered clothes.

He’s just about to shed his clothes, Jiang Cheng can tell, and he has half a mind simply running away because that thought makes some heat pool low in his belly but then Nie Mingjue hesitates.

Jiang Cheng frowns, but it takes him a while to see what stilled Nie Mingjue.

“Ah, that,” Jiang Cheng says, when he sees how Nie Mingjue moves his thumb over a letter that was stitched onto the pyjama.

“Is that a W or an M?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“It’s a W,” he admits and Nie Mingjue looks questioningly at him.

“What does it stand for?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng clicks his tongue.

He doesn’t like telling people about his courtesy name, mostly because no one ever uses it anyway, and by now it almost feels unfamiliar to Jiang Cheng. He doesn’t even know if he would react to it, if someone would be calling him Jiang Wanyin. It just doesn’t feel like his name.

But Nie Mingjue keeps looking questioningly at him and in the end Jiang Cheng folds under that curious stare.

“It’s for my courtesy name, not that anyone is using it,” he finally says.

“What is it?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly not satisfied by that answer and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“Wanyin,” he says. “Don’t bother remembering it,” he then tacks on, but Nie Mingjue is not paying him any attention anymore.

“Jiang Wanyin,” he whispers and moves his thumb over the letter again. “Wanyin,” he says then, just as softly, and Jiang Cheng’s heart beats heavily in his chest.

Oh, he thinks with sudden panic, because there are butterflies in his belly and a warmth in his chest and he is entirely unprepared for how his name sounds from Nie Mingjue’s lips like that.

“Oh,” he breathes out when the feelings don’t stop assaulting him and when Nie Mingjue’s gaze snaps towards his at that, Jiang Cheng finally realizes that he has a crush on Nie Mingjue.

Might even be in love with him, going by his visceral reaction.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng furiously whispers and turns around to leave.

He doesn’t deal well with emotions, and especially not ones he was entirely unprepared for, and he would like to freak out over this on his own, thank you very much.

Once safely locked into the bathroom, Jiang Cheng sinks to the floor, a groan making it past his lips, and he scrambles for his phone.

He can suddenly guess why the other two pairs have vanished like that.

You fuckers, he types out into the chat he has with Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang, and it’s not long at all, before they answer.

Did it work? Nie Huaisang asks.

I don’t want to know any details, but did it? Wei Wuxian types out next and Jiang Cheng almost crushes the phone in his hand.

Fuck you both, he types back and is met with a string of emojis from Wei Wuxian.

My brother would rather have you fuck him, I’m sure, Nie Huaisang tells him and Jiang Cheng’s face goes hot in an instant.

That’s—a thought he didn’t have yet and he’s not at all equipped to handle that.

Jiang Cheng drops the phone, not willing to read any more lewd comments and puts his head into his hands. He doesn’t know what to do now, doesn’t know how to face Nie Mingjue now that he realized his feelings and maybe Jiang Cheng can just spend the night on the floor here.

It would surely be the safer option.

“Wanyin?” Nie Mingjue carefully asks as he knocks at the door a good five minutes later. “Is everything alright?”

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng mutters, because Nie Mingjue does sound concerned and that name still makes a shiver go down Jiang Cheng’s back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng calls back once he took a few deep breathes and then he forces himself to stand up.

It’s not like he can hide in here forever, he decides. And going by what Nie Huaisang wrote, he might not have to fear a gentle let-down when he steps back outside.

Jiang Cheng’s hands are just shaking the slightest bit when he unlocks the door and Nie Mingjue is still waiting for him right there and Jiang Cheng’s breath catches in his throat.

Fuck, he really is handsome.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Nie Mingjue asks with a small frown and Jiang Cheng itches to smooth it out with his thumb.

“I am,” Jiang Cheng gives back, putting his hands into his pockets, lest he does something stupid with them, and he gives Nie Mingjue something that he hopes counts as a winning smile.

Going by Nie Mingjue’s look it’s not all that effective.

“My brother said something, didn’t he?” Nie Mingjue says and he scrubs a hand over his face. “I told him not to, I’m sorry.”

“No, I said something first,” Jiang Cheng says without thinking and Nie Mingjue freezes.

“What do you mean ‘first’?”

Jiang Cheng would really rather hide and his heart beating as fast as it does is no help to him either, but if Jiang Cheng reads all of these signs correctly then Nie Mingjue is very much interested in him.

And Jiang Cheng can’t let an opportunity like that pass.

“I mean that I might have realized that I’m in love with you when you said my name like that,” he bravely pushes on and is not at all prepared for the wicked look in Nie Mingjue’s eyes at his words.

“Wanyin?” he says, his voice deliberately soft, and a new shiver works its way down Jiang Cheng’s back.

“Yeah,” he weakly says and Nie Mingjue chuckles.

“If I had known that would be all it takes, I would have done it a lot sooner,” he casually says, as if he’s not blowing Jiang Cheng’s mind completely by implying that he’s been in love with him for a while now.

“Now is also good,” Jiang Cheng gives back, though it almost comes out like a question, and Nie Mingjue goes serious almost in an instant.

“It’s more than good,” he says and cups Jiang Cheng’s cheek with one of his large hands. “This okay, Wanyin?” he whispers as he leans forward and Jiang Cheng can’t help the small gasp he lets out.

Nie Mingjue’s lips twitch up in a smile, but before he can laugh at Jiang Cheng’s reaction, Jiang Cheng brings their lips together.

It’s a very gratifying feeling when Nie Mingjue makes a surprised sound against his lips as well and it only prompts Jiang Cheng to press closer.

He’s not at all prepared for the soft look on Nie Mingjue’s face when they part, and so instead he buries his face in Nie Mingjue’s neck.

“Still okay?” Nie Mingjue carefully asks him and Jiang Cheng is quick to nod.

“More than,” he mutters and presses a fluttering kiss to Nie Mingjue’s pulse point.

Jiang Cheng vows to still yell at Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian for this, but he probably has to do it over thank-you-drinks, not that he minds that much.

Especially not when Nie Mingjue buries his face in Jiang Cheng’s hair and puts one of his hands on his hips.

Oh no; that Jiang Cheng doesn’t mind at all.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[thechangeling]

I was reading your co-signing the narrative post- great post btw- and your thoughts on Kit Lightwood helped me figure out exactly what bothers me about the way other characters talk about and treat him.

So, there’s this kind of this running “joke” in TLH that Christopher’s interests are boring, that everyone else puts up with it him as though it’s this big nuisance, that everyone zones out hearing him talk… and on and on and on.*** And then there’s this scene where Grace is genuinely interested or at least not bringing him down about his self-expression and the things that bring him joy, and that’s romanticized as special when it’s really kind of the bare fuckin minimum. Like, I’m not saying James/Matthew/Thomas had to immerse themselves completely in every sciency detail but the constant “jokes” implying that Christopher’s work is boring or incomprehensible or not worth their time is just so tiring. There’s always an undercurrent of “Christopher’s just playing around uselessly” (which is not true and even when he’s having fun with his work then it’s still automatically WORTHY and VALUABLE because it makes him happy!) Not to mention this recurring problem directly contradicts the value that Christopher’s work has (beyond its inherent value) when he sends it into the world to literally save lives: the poison antidote, the fire messages that will probably come about in CoT.

And the thing is, the merry thieves’ disinterest is directly meant to foil grace’s interest in order to lend the Grace/Kit relationship a certain significance, as CC assigns to it. I’m not saying shared excitement over an interest/hobby/career/field/etc isn’t sweet platonically or romantically. I just really dislike how the idea CC is using is “no one else can bear to tolerate Kit’s ‘quirks’ but Grace, and that is Endearing, and so they are Soulmates (TM)” rather than the much healthier and positive idea that “Kit does cool sciencey stuff which his family and friends generally don’t share as strong a passion for but still don’t huff about it like it’s somehow a chore or a burden on them, and then Grace comes along and she does happen to share a similar passion and that’s the beginning of their ties to one another.” That second reasoning is what could make their friendship really refreshing; we don’t need ableism poorly twined into romance to enjoy that relationship.

I haven’t read TDA in a while but I’m thinking we could also find touches of this with Ty partly because so much of when we see him is from Kit’s POV? Not that Kit means harm or thinks himself heroic but CC on the other hand is a repeat offender in “abled/white/straight/cis character is ultimately and completely responsible for the salvation of disabled/POC/queer character in this aspect.” And I’m kind of half dreading the wicked powers for that reason among others …

I apologize if all this seems obvious or rambly. I do sometimes have trouble articulating things exactly but when I read your post i had a lightbulb moment and I wanted to note it down.

Have a great day!

***Side Note: this is why I really enjoy fan-created content that explores Christopher’s relationships with people (even people he didn’t interact with on-page in the canon) without that annoying and problematic aspect built into the framework of the relationship.

^^^^^^^^^THIS ALL OF THIS!!!!!!

Full disclosure this is gonna be kind of long sorry. But you have stumbled across my favourite topic to rant about. Allistic saviorism. Basically the name is pretty self explanatory. It's when an allistic person fictional or otherwise has the desire to or actively attempts to essentially "save" the autistic person from the horrors of the world or their life, or even themselves because they think that the autistic person isn't strong or capable enough to fix/handle it on their own. All of this is usually done for very self serving reasons. Part of this is also allistic people being praised as heroes for being nice to autistic people or asking them out, or loving them.

I don't neccesarily think that kitty is an allistic savior ship on it's own. I think that there are definitely peices of those beliefs scattered throughout the books and it might get worse in TWP. That's honestly something that I'm worried about too tbh. But honestly I think that the fandom made it a billion times worse.

This mainly allistic fandom wanted to romanticize the idea of Kit taking care of Ty and shouldering the burden of his "unpredictability." Kit is the only one who can get through to Ty. The only one who understands the mystery that is Ty 🙄. Some of this is canon too. For example, Ty can look Kit in the eye, he lets him touch him. He doesn't wear the headphones when Kit's around right? And Kit was able to calm him down during his meltdown.

And while some of this is really cute from a romantic perspective, it's also kinda problematic because it reeks of allistic saviorism. It promotes the idea that Kit is like Ty's "cure." And that's just impossible.

And honestly I know I've contributed to this in some ways. Because if I'm being perfectly honest with you, there's a part of me that enjoys that. The romantization of autism.

The idea of being taken care of.

The idea that someone could love an autistic person and see them as "beautiful" and "extraordinary" and all the things Kit calls Ty, was incredibly moving and appealing to me as a kid. It still is. Because I grew up on stories of charity cases and allistic saviorism making headlines with prom dates. I was super secretive about it, but I was always a romantic growing up. But I thought that it was impossible for me to have a real love story because people like me don't get that. (Not to get all sob story on you sorry. I overshare. It's an autistic thing.)

And there are some really compelling things about kitty that really do work. And I'm not trying to suggest that Kit learning to help Ty with the ...shall we say more colourful traits of his disability is a bad thing always. It's not. But I think the issue is with Ty's lack of pov and Ty's lack of a narrative in the books. It makes him seem like less of a completely developed character and more like, "Kit's" you know?

And because we don't have Ty's pov we don't really get what makes Kit have this sort of calming effect on him or why it's different. And more importantly we don't get why Ty's letting him in, we only get Kit pushing past his boundries. The entire thing becomes about Kit essentially and that's at the root of all allistic saviorism.

Also like you mentioned before, Kit is seen as special to a certain extent because he can handle Ty. That's not neccesarily something the character believes obviously, but again with CC co-signing the damn narrative with the way she makes the impact Kit has on Ty such a big deal in everyone's eyes and in QOAAD she really emphasizes the drain Ty's necromancy plan is taking on Kit, suddenly Ty's grief becomes all about Kit and with no pov from Ty, it's more allistic savior bs.

Honestly most of this isnt actually THAT bad it's just when you throw it all together and look at the ugly history and let's be honest present, of autistic people being silenced and spoken over by our caregivers and loved ones and we are treated like burdens on them, and how those people are praised for loving us, it kinda looks bad. But the fandom definitely made it worse.

I always get criticized for criticizing kitty by allistic people with, " well if you think they're so toxic then why do you even ship them?" Which is a piss poor take lacking in any nuance. An autistic person has the right to critique a dynamic involving an autistic character. More to the point, you can love something and be critical of it. I swear when this fandom finally figures that one out... we could accomplish so much.

I'm really hoping this is making sense it's like 2 in the morning. As for Grace and Christopher's dynamic I agree with you. I basically have nothing to add. Bare minimum. Should not be idolized. The way the others treat him should not just be brushed off as no big deal. It's ableism.

Basically it's just a bunch of classic mistakes that come from a neurotypical abled writer writing nd characters. Some mistakes are more damning then others. But it does make me scared for TWP.

I can only hope.

[sevensided]

how did you get into writing fic? i'd love to start but idk even where to begin! I loved adats so I was wondering do you have any advice?

Oh my goodness! I am so flattered you’ve asked me this. Yes, I can absolutely help. I’ll throw a bunch of rambling under the cut.

I started writing fic probably when I was... sixteen years old? A lot of my early works were oneshots. I couldn’t figure out how to do anything plot heavy for the life of me, so I just stuck to AUs or whatever I felt like. I wasn’t in any particular fandom -- I really wrote whatever I had ideas for. I remember I tried once to do a plot-heavy story and I received a review absolutely ripping it to shreds. Like, it was so cruel I cried lol. I ended up deleting the fic. Years later, I get what they were trying to say (basically, more substance, less style), but at the time it cut to the quick. Really, it was only when I was in my twenties that I started writing work that was longer and/or better.

The fandom that helped me actually write plot heavy work was a historical-based fandom. As I’m a historian, it was perfect. I got to use my research skills and knowledge to create works that, above all, aimed to feel authentic. I mainly read historical fiction, so I was familiar with how that genre worked. Miraculously, people loved my work. I think I wrote about ~200k in the period of a year? These were several short stories (20-40k) and a few oneshot filler fics. While I was part of this fandom I also helped organise a Big Bang which was a lot of hard work but was extremely rewarding. Along with that, I interacted mainly with other fic writers, so I spent a lot of time chatting to people about ideas and encouraging other writers, and it just created a lovely medley where no concept was impossible or any line of dialogue too difficult. We supported each other and it was truly like a little commune. I gradually stepped away from the fandom mainly because it was just a part of my life at a very specific time, and almost as soon as that time was over, my love for that story/ship faded, but I firmly believe I figured out a lot of how/what I do now purely through that experience.

Regarding ADATS

With ADATS, it stemmed entirely from wanting to “explain” three months in canon (at the end of season three). I was interested in the idea of season four setting up Will/Mike in canon, and I wanted to test the source material to see if I could draw from what already existed to create something authentic. I began with that simple idea: what happened from July to October in 1985? Then I thought about the major themes I wanted to hit -- family, friendship, coming of age, sexuality -- and I nested them around the bigger concept: how do I get Mike from being ostensibly straight to realising he is gay? That meant thinking of two steps: Mike discovering his attraction to guys; Mike discovering his attraction to Will. Those two concepts were separate “arcs” that needed addressing in different ways. Balance was key to weaving them together and making the reader feel like they knew what was coming (and that they felt smart for putting the pieces together) without just rushing through and going “now kiss!” That’s partly why ADATS needs a sequel, lol: because it’s not finished!

Writing process

The first thing I do when I start to get an idea is I write it down. Sounds obvious. But when you have a killer line of dialogue come to you in the shower and you think “I’ll remember that” -- reader, you will not remember it. You gotta get it down ASAP! I do that the whole way through, as generally I’ll be thinking of scenes I’m stuck on and then it’ll just come to me and I’ll quickly jot it down.

The next thing -- or what I do in the meantime -- is start structuring. I plan. I try to plan a lot. Sometimes it’s okay to write “and something happens here to get them here”, because you’ll figure it out later, but for the most part I’ve discovered that planning is like gold and you can’t get enough of it. I break my work up into generally 3-4 parts/sections, and I treat each section like a mini story. So each part needs a conflict and resolution, and it needs to flow into the next section. You need to have a feeling of things evolving and maturing. Once I’ve planned those little bits, I start thinking about the bigger plot arc and how I can drop in hints along the way. I’m probably not a subtle or skilled enough writer to yet pull off that sort of gasping twist you get in really excellent books, but I’m trying to get there. It’s hard, is what I’m trying to say, but that’s okay, because we’re all learning.

Then I generally do aesthetic stuff. Sounds stupid, probably. But nothing helps me get more into a mood than doing a Pinterest board or -- most of all -- making a Spotify mix. I start thinking about the vibe and the general atmosphere, and then I almost exclusively listen to that mix when I’m working. Sort of like muscle memory? Just to get the creative juices associated with that particular selection of songs.

Another thing I’ll do along with plot structure is character structure. This is a biggie. I mean, a story is nothing without characters. So I’ll just jot down a bunch of bullet points of characters and particular aspects that I want to highlight or remember. I hate continuity errors in fiction. Like, if someone says they work on Maple Street but later in the fic they’re working on Pine Street. I hate that. So I keep note of specific things that my main character might notice at repeated points in the story (colours, places, smells, names, sounds -- so they’re all consistent even as the narrative evolves). That’s another thing -- your characters’ motivations. Not everyone is going to be a huge player, but they all do serve a purpose. The most important character is obviously your main character. I personally think it’s important to let your M.C. be an arse at times. They’re going to be mean, they’re going to misinterpret things or fly off the handle... just let ‘em. Let them be wretched humans, and then bring them back and make them realise what they’ve done. Let them learn! I love consequences in fiction, lol.

At the same time, I’ll probably start writing. We’ve already written down some snippets of neat dialogue or descriptions, but now we should start the actual process. For me, I used to start at the beginning. Usually this was the most fleshed out anyway: I’ll have a clear idea of the beginning and the end, but nothing in the middle. These days, if I have a scene in mind that I can’t forget, I’ll just write it. It will possibly get scrapped or rewritten, but that’s okay, because at least you’ve got it down and now you can devote your brain power to something useful (like figuring out what the middle is supposed to be). I’ll have half a dozen of totally out of context scenes just littered in my Word document that I’ll add to as I go along. Eventually, though, you’re going to start writing properly, and that’s when you write your opening scene.

Opening scenes: super important. Every time I write a scene I think: what is the point of this? What do I want the reader to learn or takeaway? Sometimes you do have filler scenes, but they also serve a different purpose (perhaps to establish a group dynamic or to explore/describe a character’s surroundings). Mainly, though, every scene should push something forward in some way, whether it’s character development or a plot point. So, with an opening scene, I always think you have to establish: where you are; who you are; what they are doing; where they’ve come from (in a philosophical and practical sense); and where they’re going (ditto). That doesn’t have to happen in the first paragraph -- that would be silly. But if you sprinkle that information in over time it’ll gradually build up a picture of your character and that way the reader can get an idea of who they are. You basically need to give a snapshot of what your story is about. This also goes back to the character creator stuff: where they are at the start should be different to where they end up. How that happens is, of course, because of plot, and because you’ve structured everything to the nth degree, we’ve got a very clear progression of that character’s growth (/s easier said than done lol).

General advice

Write down everything: every idea, a bit of dialogue, a description, whatever. Write it down. Doesn’t have to be neat. Just has to be on paper. You can’t remember everything, so if you’re spending time trying to hold those things in your head, it’s taking up space for new ideas to come along.

Structure, plan, structure, plan. Sometimes it’s boring and I hate it. Other times, when I’ve not written in a few days and I open the Word doc and think wtf is this supposed to be, I am very grateful for Past Me for leaving such detailed notes. Seriously, it helps so much. Oneshots don’t really need planning, in my experience. You just get those out there. But multi-chaptered stories really do, even ones that “just” focus on a relationship.

Whatever you want to write, commit to it. Space goblins invade Hawkins? Do it. Eleven and Max find themselves in a cult akin to Midsommar (2019) and must escape? Yes. Just... whatever you want to do, remember that you’re writing it for you. Write what most interests you, what makes you when you reread it go AHHHHH I LOVE THIS!! Because that makes it a thousand times easier to actually get on with the writing when you enjoy what you’re doing.

Write a lot. Every day, if you can, or at least at designated times. Occasionally I have a very specific headspace/vibe I have to be in, but sometimes it just hits me and I’ll say to my partner “I need to write now” and just disappear, lol. The more you write the more you write. It’s so, so, so true. Cannot emphasise this enough. When I wrote that ~200k in twelve months? It was because I literally wrote every. day. Or near enough. Remember that some days you’ll write 200 words, and other days you’ll write 20k (this happened to me with ADATS -- part of the reason I finished it so quickly was because I had sprints of writing 10k+ at a time that only happened because I was in the rhythm of it). Write, write, write. Who cares if it’s crap! No one will see it until you are ready. In the meantime, just write!

Probably last of all (although I could go on and on) is connect with other writers. If you’re struggling to start, sometimes just talking about it can help a huge amount. I hope it goes without saying that you can message me whenever you want, anon or not, and I will talk to you. We can talk about ideas or I can beta stuff, whatever you want! Find like-minded people and talk to them about what you want to do. Another thing this helps is in advertising your work when you do publish. I see a lot of first time fic writers get super down because they publish their magnum opus on AO3 but no one comments. Honestly, it’s because no one knows you’ve published! You don’t have to be tooting your own horn every which way, but just actively talking about your work and even collaborating with other content creators with get you hyped and other people too (and the input and encouragement other fandom members give is just... out of this world. Anon messages helped me finish ADATS when I was really worried I wouldn’t [that’s the truth]. Seriously, support is everything). When you have people excited about your work, you get excited. It’s really as simple as that.

I could go on but this is already horrendously long. I hope even a bit of this helps! If you want to chat or have any more questions, just hit me up any time.

[atamascolily]

Fic meme

Thanks to @thebyrchentwigges for the tag and the excuse to ramble on about my fics!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 162, 12 of which are podfics under the lilypods pseud. Mostly shorter fics and one-shots, but some multichapter novellas and three novels!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 928,500

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? TOO MANY TO COUNT, LOL. Various Star Wars (mostly Legends, some OT, a smattering of ST), Puella Magi Madoka Magica, and Adventures of Sinbad have the most fics at the moment.

I really love crossovers and small niche fandoms, so that ups the number considerably.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

-In the Reptile House, a Harry Potter/Good Omens short.

-Through A Glass Darkly, a Star Wars Sequel Trilogy fix-it by way of Legends (novel)

-Total Eclipse - short Star Wars crackfic inspired by the North American eclipse of August 2017.

-Moebius, a Bleach/Puella Magi Madoka Magica crossover (novel)

-Four Fathers, short Star Wars OT character study.

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Generally yes, though I make exceptions for any comment that is rude, belittling, or trolling. I’ll try and give someone the benefit of the doubt if they’re on the edge, but if they repeat the behavior, then they lose their “communication with the author” privileges. and I do not engage with them. 

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? if I could turn back time, a Clannad/Puella Magi Madoka Magica crossover, which, given the source material totally checks out.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written? I LOVE CROSSOVERS SO MUCH! The most unlikely one is probably The Dry Land, which is a Star Wars/Earthsea crossover. But shoutout to Provocodictory, which is a Young Wizards/Princess Bride drabble.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Very little. I’m more of a fade to black kinda of person. My deepest respect for smut writers, though--it’s so hard and they do an amazing job of it!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of, at least.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Words for the Dead, a Star Wars OT missing scene, in French as Quelques mots pour les morts by Perspicacia.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I’m up for it with the right person.

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship? must you make me choose? Sigh. Maeve/Sinbad from Adventures of Sinbad, and Luke Skywalker/Mara Jade from Star Wars Legends will always have a special place in my heart.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? *looks at folder and sighs*

15. What are your writing strengths? I know what I like, and I write a lot of it. Details, descriptions, creative and vivid imagery. Character studies and clever set-ups. Blending two diverse universes together into a coherent whole.

16. What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes. Smut. Original characters and the necessary mechanics to make original fiction work. Scenes with lots of characters interacting.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Like any trope or technique, it depends on the circumstances and context! I've seen it done skillfully and I’ve seen it done poorly. For me, if the POV character isn’t meant to understand what’s being said, I’ll throw in snippets if relevant (and put the translation in the notes), otherwise I generally provide a translation in the text itself. There are lots of creative ways to do this that don’t disrupt the flow of the story. For me, it’s best used sparingly, like salt or spices in a recipe--a little goes a long way and too much can be overwhelming or just too distracting.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? Probably LOTR, but I have handwritten fanfics of the Adventures of Sinbad from the late ‘90s that I treasure.

19. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written? Must I choose? I love all my fics, but special shoutouts to Trompe-l'oeil and asynchronous--two PMMMs shorts--and Take My Breath Away, a Star Wars Legends Luke/Mara hanahaki fic, all three of which are dear to my heart.

[datawyrms]

Prove it with one hand behind your back

Dannymay day 12: Gloves There is reference to the events in Hypothesis, but can be read stand alone. Now Ao3′d “Uhhh, Danny?” Jazz called up the stairs, laundry basket under her arm.

“What? I’ll get my stuff when it’s dry!” Her brother yelled back down, apparently not interested in leaving his room so they could speak semi-normally.

“Normally it would be my duty as your sister to throw your wash on the floor. Were you aware your laundry is glowing?”

Her frazzled brother appeared at the stairs then, taking them two at a time. “Geeze Jazz, tell the whole neighborhood why don’t ya?” he hissed as he passed.

“Mom and Dad aren’t here, and you’re welcome.”

“Obviously. Jerk.” he made an exaggerated frown at her before ducking into the washer, dragging out handfuls of the expected tee-shirts and jeans followed by an impressive amount of mismatched lightly glowing gloves.

“You’re taking trophies now?” she raised an eyebrow, unsure what to make of it. Not a single one had a pair, and none of them were even his ghost form’s hazmat gloves. Quite a few of them looked rather elaborate, some very interesting embroidered patterns making it obviously not something of her brother’s making. Delicacy was not his strong suit.

“Huh? No! These are-” he paused, taking a breath as he covered the glowing handwear with several shirts. “You remember that whole Sam got dragged to the ghost zone because Aragon’s an idiot thing?”

“The self important dragon shapeshifter with some serious hangups and anger issues?”

“Yeah, that one.” he nodded, rubbing at his chin. “Did I mention Dora sort of knighted us for helping drive him out of power?”

“No, but I’m pretty used to you leaving out important details by now.” Jazz smirked as her little brother rolled his eyes.

“It was nice of her and all but apparently they have a sort of tradition in her Kingdom? Where to show you’re worthy of joining the Queen’s guard you challenge one of the newest knights to a duel.” Danny paused to fish out one of the gloves. “Giving over a glove is basically how they ask for that duel. All very formal, I’d write it down if I could explain how I know without completely blowing my cover.”

“So you’ve got a bunch of medieval ghosts throwing gloves at you and wanting to duel...and you decided to wash them. At home.” Jazz crossed her arms. “Seriously?’

“Where else was I gonna do it? I thought they’d make decent proof so show Dad ghosts have society and rules.” He paused, throwing the glowing thing back under his regular clothes. “Then I remembered there’s no way I could explain how I got these. So now they’ll just smell nice in Sam’s closet or something.”

“Your closet a little too risky this time?”

“Nope. All of these belong to Sam. She’s the one getting all the challenges, not me.” he glanced down at his basket. “I think she named some of these.”

“It’s it a little unfair for a ghost to fight a human? That goes against the whole honourable and fair thing it seems to be going for.”

The half ghost grinned. “That’s what they think! Challenged gets to set the rules, and it turns out ghost knights are really, really bad at adjusting to ground only combat.”

Jazz blinked, the part that had been bothering her clicking into place. “Wait, so there’s that many because you’re still the newest knights?”

“Wasted every single challenger. I keep trying to convince them they’ll have a better shot against me, but noooo, they insist on trying to best the ‘breathing banshee’.” he shrugs. “Most of em would absolutely wreck me in a proper fight, I don’t usually need to fight ‘fair’ or anything.”

“So why don’t they go after Tucker? Getting all the way out here for a tradition can’t be easy.”

“He still insists he’s Friar Tuck. You don’t swordfight the clergy. None of them have actually called him on it, so maybe he is?” his brow furrowed, thinking on that. “Maybe I should ask Dora that sometime. Find out if we need to worry about some ghost pope later. Would not want to be the guy who punched the dragon queen’s ghost pope.”

Jazz couldn’t suppress a snort, easily able to picture such a mishap. “A year ago if you said that I’d say you should be committed. Now I’m just nodding along.”

“Even if you were saying it now, I’d get out.” A wicked grin accompanied a flash of green eyes.

“Very funny, dork.” Still, the idea was worth thinking about. “Well I can see why you wanted to try using them as proof.” The project was rather important to Danny, seeing as it was his best shot to get their parents to re-evaluate their ‘ghosts are mindless’ stance. “Maybe you could get Tucker to film a fight? Sam keeping ‘contaminated’ gloves wouldn’t seem that weird, and the variety can prove it’s not just one ghost mindlessly repeating the same behaviour.”

“I’d still be stuck explaining how Sam became ‘Sir Manson’ in the ghost zone. Which seems like a disaster waiting to happen.” his shoulders sagged. “They’ll think I made it up or Tucker did some video editing.”

“I still think it’s worth trying. Sam’s got a rich family, you could probably think up an excuse that she’s practically ‘royalty’ and that’s why they come.”

“Eh. Maybe. Don’t tell Sam but I’m giving the challengers tips now. The sooner they stop coming, the sooner I can stop getting all antsy about a ghost attack where I find out it’s another steel welding glove thrower.”

Jazz set her shoulders, determined to get some of that humour back in her dispirited sibling. “Use that. They owe you if you help them out, don’t they?”

“Well, I guess they do. Like I’ve had them tell me stories about what it’s like for them, if they remember stuff or have always been ghosts, they’re pretty chatty to a ‘fellow of the sword’...but it’s all stuff I write down. I can’t prove a ghost told me. I can’t film it, or have Dad listen in. The second they call me ‘Sir Phantom’ I’m toast.”

“He said he’d at least listen to what you found, right? It can be a starting point, and if you have some really specific detail it’s less likely that you made the whole thing up.” she stopped to ruffle his hair. “That, and if you were going to make something up, you’d have some star ghosts or ecto-aliens.”

“I would not!”

“Yes you would. And you’d draw them little space ships and everything.”

“...Okay maybe I’d make up some ships.”

“A lot of ships. With long complicated names. With scientific reasons for those names. Cus your my dorky little brother.”

“Well you’re my nagging big sister. You get to be the black hole equivalent.” 

“Just don’t give up on the idea so quickly, okay? It’s a good one, and it really can’t hurt too much to try.”

A small smile returned as he elbowed her “Careful, or they’ll think you’re being influenced by ghosts too.”

“It’s not like their theories can have any more concrete proof than yours does. What are they?”

“Dad thinks ectoplasm naturally ‘homes in’ on stuff over here, and that’s how they’re finding the portal.” he closes his eyes, foot kicking at the floor. “He’s got this box thing? A lot of box things with different kinds of ectoplasm to see if they move towards ‘our world’ over time. I keep forgetting it’s floating right next to the portal and almost kick it.” his face turns into a grimace. “Dad thinks ‘that ghost kid’ is messing with his experiment on purpose now, so that sucks.”

“Well you could mess with it on purpose, that would be intelligent.”

“Nope. That would be the ‘natural aggressive action’ towards human materials. Tried it.”

“What’s mom’s hypothesis then?”

“That the portal always being here makes this part of Earth more ectoplasm rich so they’re drawn to enter here instead.” he waves a hand. “She’s half right? I don’t think strong ghosts can go all that long without ducking back home to recharge. She’s using the frequency of ‘higher level’ ghosts as proof that they ‘need’ a certain level to function outside of the ghost zone.”

“Another theory you’re accidentally stomping all over.”

“Since they almost never spot ‘Phantom’ going back to the Zone, yeah. I apparently account for ninety four percent of all ghost sightings. Yet only three percent of that is being spotted outside of a fight. Which sounds really bad! No wonder they think I only think about fighting other ghosts.” he rubbed at the back of his head. “I think she plans to test that by uh. Sticking a ghost in a place with no ectoplasm to see how long they hold out, if at all. So I’ve kinda been...making sure she can’t do that.” he swallows, his glance towards his sister more timid than anything. “It'd be a really, really nasty way to die. From what I heard.”

“Good for you. She’ll thank you once you prove that sort of thing would be unethical.”

His frown didn’t move. “If I prove it. So far I’ve just proven they really don’t like that ghost kid.”

“From what I’ve heard you’re the one with the most solid proof. Once you’ve shown everything you’ve collected, then you could try convincing them to see for themselves you aren’t making it up.” Jazz urged, not wanting to watch her little brother give up again.

“Even if I could convince Dad to come in the specter speeder with me we’d scare most ghosts off. The ones we don’t might want to beat me up, or not use a name I can’t explain away.”

“Sam gets to set when one of those challenges happens right? Invite him to one of those.”

He blinked. “...I guess that might work. If Sam made it clear that they couldn’t say my name under any circumstances. There’s one lady who keeps coming, insists she’s going to be the one to get to succeed after ‘Slapping Sir Manson with her glove’, she might be down for that…” he caught the weird look Jazz was giving him. “Oh. Apparently if you’re rivals hitting the person with your glove is ‘provoking your betters’ into a fight? So it’s a respect thing? I don’t really get it. Sam thinks it’s great, which I didn’t see coming but I didn’t think we’d still be having ghost knight fights either.” he let out a breath. “I’m rambling again.”

“You know, if Mom and Dad could see how you talk about this stuff they’d know you aren’t making it up. Looks like ghost research does run in the family.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m a ghost hunter if anything. It’s just nice being able to chat instead of fight sometimes. The ghost zone is pretty neat. If you know, half the stuff in there wasn’t trying to skin me alive.”

“I still think you have a good shot. You know it’s true, so they’ll have to see it given enough time.”

“Maybe. Can’t really talk about this stuff to them though. Gee dad, how do I know about Frostbite? Well when I stole the Ecto-Skeleton and shoved back Pariah Dark this whole tribe of yetis decided I was their Great One. So now we’re pals. Oh what’s that dad, you say the ghost kid did that? Funny thing!” he dropped his arms with a scowl. “That’d go over like a lead balloon.”

“Maybe stick to the dragon queen society for now. It’s not like anyone over here saw that. Then you can expand into the rest of the friendly areas.” she put a hand on his shoulder. “One step at a time Danny, you’ll get there.”

“I hope so. If it doesn’t, I blame you if I’m torn molecule by molecule.”

“Ew Danny! Don’t be so morbid, it’s not good for your development.”

“Is it morbid if I’m dead?” he winced from his sister’s whack to the head. “Ow! Half!”

“Better. Now scram with all those gloves before someone thinks you robbed a ghost antique boutique.”

“You’re such a busybody Jazz.” the half ghost teased before darting off with his half spectral laundry. It wouldn’t be an easy thing to convince their parents, but he did seem to be on the right track. So of course it was her job to make sure he stuck to it. Siblings had to look out for each other, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sparklyicecube]

Scorching Romance

I JUST FINISHED ONE OF THE BEST MANHWAS EVER AAAAAH

Why you should read it: a review? Suggestion? Anyways.

Name: Scorching Romance

Status: Completed!!!

Length: 90episodes (pretty long but it’s worth it I swear)

Genre: Highschool romance

Quick summary:

‘Cursed girl who is constantly hot meets cursed boy who is constantly cold.’

Ok so:

Despite the ‘cursed’ parts we honestly don’t have magic running rampant in this place besides the fact that our two main characters genuinely feel really hot and cold to the point that Ember (the girl and hot one) can heat stuff up and give burns with body temperature, but mostly it is set in our normal universe. The start of the whole thing is pretty slow-paced with me not really that invested, but not turned off by anything. It gets reaaally action packed eventually and I nearly cried ahahahah.

The author is genius. The characters are honestly not one-dimensional, no matter what the story tries to trick you into believing, and the best part is that they introduce sooooo many characters in but by the time the story ends, there are virtually no loose ends and you are invested in all their stories. They don’t take advantage of misunderstanding nearly as much as they could realistically actually do and it will make you squeal!

I would say the overall theme of the entire thing is forgiveness and owning up. The amount of times someone said sorry for doing something awful and I genuinely believed them, because that ‘sorry’ just held all that weight.

Ten outta ten would recommend!!!

Spoilers from this point on! (I rant about my feelings on it down here)

OKAY SO THEY ARE SO CUTE I SHIPPED THEM SO MUCH AND AAAAAAAAA

I loved the dynamic between them and I love how they ended up being really truthful to each other and Aspen didn’t lie even though he thought about it :...) they’re so sweeeet

I looked at the chapter number when their curses broke the first time and was like waiiiiit. I then also wondered whether the rest would be just fluff scenes (not that I’m complaining) but the author really said “BUCKLE UP IT GONNA GET SERIOUS”

The author put so many references to little things that happened and tied everything together so nicely??? Also Trevor, idk when I started rooting for you but you were real. You and Moxie should get together. (You will never make it as a kpop idol because your bullying scandals) 

I think overall, I really liked how it all came together and ended?? They even had that Rocky dude go with someone else??

The forgiveness/repenting aspect of the entire thing was really amazing. Aspen kept saying ‘sorry’ for so much at the start and throughout, yeah he was genuine but he was also overusing it. Later on, ‘sorry’ became such a powerful word that was used in such serious cases, like when Harry’s grandma cursed Ember or when Monica burned the place down.

Can we talk about Harry???

HARRY is BEST BOY

At the start, even though I knew that it was Aspen and Ember I was like ‘does Harry sorta like Aspen though?’ and low-key shipped it but then he said ‘he’s too good for you’ and there was the whole “I DO NOT LIKE ASPEN” when being bothered by Ember and I think that is actually really sweet. We never get the answer to why he sticks with Ember, well, at least not explicitly, but we definitely know why. 

1. He and Ember were childhood friends, he saw her deteriorate to such a serious state and is willing to stick with her because they’re friends (serious state being both her heat and her temper as he sees how she did actually attempt to be nice to people only to be backstabbed)

2. She’s been there for him when very few people have. When Aunt Monica left him Ember was right next to him, that makes them very close and also feel like they’ve been through a lot, and so are willing to stick to each other more.

Harry not having any romantic interests in Ember or Aspen just makes him so much more appealing, he teases them, is there for them, and we can see how amazing he is and without having any romantic unerlying agendas! Love fuels a lot of stuff in this manhwa but so does platonic love and I love that for him. I also don’t think Megan deserves him, because she is too immature and honestly, still hasn’t figured out love yet. (Especially with the ‘buying him ice cream was worth it’) like GURL have you SEEN his HOUSE he does not need a sugar parent. Even until the end she eats ice cream with him, which just shows she can’t open up to him and she was honestly pretty childish thoughout the whole thing. Either way I love how the author baited us several times with Harry for us all to be like ‘Could it be??’ and then ‘I knew it.”

AMBER AND ASPEN”S RELATIONSHIPPPPP

I love how the whole thing played out to be honest. At the start, I didn’t like Ember’s attitude, or Aspen’s attitude but they both grew so much as people and their character growth through was just so amazing! You could see so many parallel’s where Aspen stands up for himself, where Ember is more restained, it’s *chef’s kiss* amazing!

One of the best bits was when Aspen couldn’t bring himself to lie to Ember, which was what I feared. It seemed like the worst misunderstanding ever but Aspen managed to trust Ember enough and vice versa, showing how far they’ve come. The two of them are now able to banter and converse freely, which both of them trusting in their love and relationship so much! 

Aspen trusting Ember was the bit thing I think, if he couldn’t trust Ember they would keep having these issues, but Ember had grown to be more trustworthy and Aspen had grown to be stronger and have better self-confidence.

At episode 64 or smth where Ember’s curse broke and I thought ‘are they going to have another 30 chapters of just fluff?” (not that I’m complaining), and they didn’t, but the fluff they did have was so cute!!! Also when Ember collasped and hugged Aspen after ‘faking’ a relaspe *sobs* it was so cute :.)

This next part will be a collection of little observations I found (there are probably still more) that I though were super cool!

1) Aunt Monica’s cigareete. We see her throw it as a little thing like a (I’m leaving/I’m outta here) thing when we first find out that she was Harry’s aunt, then we later find out that Harry’s grandma cursed Ember because of a fire from a cigarette butt from him. At that point no one realises what happened yet. Then she has an epiphany when some person from some car throws at her when it’s all dramatic (I thought that was Lucifer or someone going to burn her originally but it was just a random person) and then we find out it was all her! We even find out that the fire happened on the day of her leaving and no one realised! Anyways...

2) Hypnosis. Monica says in her little ‘angels club’ thing that they must wear sunglasses all of the time lest they hypnotise people. I read that, realised that Lucifer was from there, then went ‘wait a second...’ because Lucifer hypnotised Moxie!!! Several times!!! Cool easter egg I love

3) Remembering things. Aspen didn’t remember Monica from when he was so young, only his mom did, because Aspen was 1. Young and 2. Monica didn’t have much of an impression on him. I like it when author’s decide how much people can remember because let’s face it, even when we’re not children we don’t remember what we ate yesterday morning. Also, Ember not remembering that Monica told Harry to think of her as his mom. Same logic, Ember was young and it had waaaay more of an impact on Harry than anything. More than that, Monica left the next day and it would seem like an irrelevant detail technically.

4) Names. I love how they actually tied in names with meanings, it made it so easy to remember the names and it also made it not really weird and obvious (I’m looking at you J.K. Rowling) but integral to the story. One could predict what role they had in the story by their name. Rocky’s name particularly threw me off a bit, because I could tell it was based off the ‘Rocky mountains’ but was unsure of whether that was related to ‘cold water’ and just decided that it was, but it wasn’t as Aspen’s. Making him just ‘water’ was really nice because it gave us reason as to why Ember seemed to be helped by him but also make him just out of the picture as well.

5) The ice storage. Making the bodyguards faint and be cold too, especially wen they didn’t really coma (or at least, the second one) because we knew you had to go in involuntarily to no be in coma, very good detail.

6) Aspen still having the misunderstanding that Ember was up on that roof saving him to this day because it was never disputed. Ever.

There are totally loads more than that but I need to re-read it a few more times to spot them I suppose!

I think the only hing I want more content of in the whole thing is from Aspen’s dad. His guilt after what he heard his son and wife went through, his bonding with Aspen, him and his family, I feel like that was the only thing that was left unfinished and that I’d want to see more of. 

Finishing it off with a- how are you reading this part??? You must really like reading me ramble. Anyway, that might or might not be all from me on Scorhing Romance, I’ve been getting into manhwas lately and especially finished ones (bcs duh) so these rants might come in a bit more frequently but who knows.

Bye!

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 12: The Vast of Night

Just finished watching The Vast of Night. It was good but I do feel like it lost me a little at about the 2/3 mark, and so right now I’m more stuck in the ways it was frustrating.

The stuff I liked:

It was very atmospheric and had exactly the kind of vibes I was looking for: 1950s desert night. Just like it says on the tin. I also like the two main characters a lot. They could have been annoying but the actors made it work. I liked that it was a little ambiguous how well they knew each other or what their friendship quite was. They were sorta like surrogate brother/sister but they could have just as easily been, like, acquaintances in a small town where everyone knows each other who just happen to get into this weird thing on this one night.

I also really liked the depiction of the town, and how much effort was put into making it feel real: the familiarity of everyone with each other, the shots that specifically established how close/far everything was from everything else. I liked that it felt like a radio show a lot--right down to the screen going completely blank sometimes and just having voices talking.

And I enjoyed the immersion if it basically being real time and real place. Like it probably was about 90 minutes in universe, and any time anyone moves from place to place, we tend to follow them. The only jump cuts were when the action was taking place in two spots simultaneously and we were cutting between them. So it felt real and, I mean this in a good way, small. Contained.

I was basically completely on board until the point where the old woman told her story. When she talked about her son being like an alien radio I was like “...okay this isn’t what I was expecting.” Not in a good way. It felt like a whole new type of alien story was being introduced and QUITE late in the game. Now it’s not just ships talking to each other inscrutably or even vague stories about what the military might know, it’s like... alien languages and abductions and like specifics on a whole new level. There’s even a theory (a dumb theory!) about what the aliens might want!

I wish I had a way to say this succinctly, because I was rambling through it with my mom right after we finished watching but basically... the movie appears to be very self-contained and simple--not in a bad way, but in the sense of, this is a one-night-story, everything you need is going to be in these 90 minutes, it’s not an epic, it’s not a mystery, etc. And so my expectation is that it will be economical. There will be no wasted details. Everything we see and hear will be important, every clue will be picked up and explained by the end, and every string will be tied. I really ENJOY stories like that; I find them immensely satisfying, in part because they are by nature very well constructed. It all comes together in the end.

But then it didn’t really, in this case. I don’t necessarily mean that mysteries weren’t answered. I wasn’t expecting resolution in that sense. I wasn’t expecting to know everything about the aliens--in fact, I was expecting to know less than we did--but I was expecting the narrative of the movie itself to resolve. I’m not explaining myself well, I know.

For example, the biggest and most annoying example, there’s a big deal made out of the basketball game tapes being recorded over and reused, and when Faye and Everett take the tapes from the library to find Billy’s friend’s recording, they mention the possibility it was recorded over again. So one would expect this would have meaning??? And yet nothing?? So why? It’s not that the conversation was unpleasant or annoying but I was expecting an ah-ha moment from it and then didn’t get it.

The squirrel or other animal biting through the wire also came up a lot and I didn’t see the point of that. I mean it established the town, right, and that’s fun, but it seemed like it should be more meaningful than that. I thought it might pertain to like the way that stories get retold and distorted but...idk it seemed to just be local color I guess?

Then there was stuff that I thought might be actually important but it’s just that I wasn’t getting it. Like for example, it seems like it should be/might have been important that Faye has no father but a very young sister, especially given that she has the sister with her for a lot of the last part of the film, and putting it in the context of the time period, and the old woman’s story about having a child while unmarried/being a single mother herself. I thought it might be something pertaining to a theme of the dangers of being othered in a (small) community. Like, the aliens pick out people who are alone at times when everyone else gathers together (like at the game, though what the actual evidence is for this I don’t entirely know) and we get lots of references to this, as well as references to the size of the town and of course plenty of evidence about how everyone knows everyone else. There’s the reference to the Indian basketball players as well, and it’s very relevant that Billy, a voice only hear over the radio, is Black. There’s also that bit where Everett gets them away from talking to the man at the game because he’s too much of a loner and not to be spoken to.

That said, Faye doesn’t exactly seem to be ostracized. And though she talks about walking everywhere because she doesn’t have a car, and not having enough money for college, a lot of other people seem to be working too, so it’s not, like, weird of her.

So I don’t know. If the movie had been what I expected/wanted it to be, I would not have to work so hard for the theme or for the relevance of certain details. And again, the movie is so short and so self-contained and so simple in terms of its basic plot, and so focused in terms of characters, time, and place, that it really doesn’t have an excuse for extraneous details. It’s not a sweeping epic, you know? I don’t want the things I learn about these people to seem random. Why learn that Faye has a mother and sister and no father and not anything about Everett’s family? Because it didn’t chance to come up? This isn’t real life, it’s a narrative!! No excuses!

The other thing is that the movie is clearly basing itself in the tradition of the The Twilight Zone, and that show was defined by its twists. So I was FULLY expecting a twist. Something about the Cold War? Something about the nature or origin or intention of the aliens? Something about the various technological “news” Faye was reciting at the beginning? I mean I would have been happy with a basic/classic twist even tbqh.

But no... it’s just an abduction story I guess. The MOST boring of alien stories.

I would have liked if they’d gone more into the alien ship noises specifically, the intercepted conversations, the accidental (ish) conversation that comes from humans replaying the recordings...

I don’t know. I like the concept of aliens as inscrutable and probably benevolent, just like existing in little bits and pieces for us to wonder about. Unknowable. I like that much more than aliens picking people up into their giant flying saucers. Just a personal preference.

In some ways, it felt like it became a completely different movie in the last third. A lot of new ideas were introduced, like the alien language (versus ship’s sounds), the abductions, the alien trance state thing, and that’s in a movie that until then had been more about a slow, creeping dread. A movie that was never afraid to take its time. Then it starts throwing in new ideas all over the place? And dropping old ones? I almost wonder if the director was bullied into major edits or re-shoots or something, like if someone said ‘you know this is too boring, this lacks resolution, this isn’t flashy enough.’ Maybe that’s just what I want to believe. I’m basing it only on the text and not on any extra knowledge, of which I have none. It just felt weird that a movie that was so good and so controlled in the beginning started making what I think of as amateur hour mistakes later on.

All that said, I did really enjoy it! I’m glad I watched it and I would watch it again.

[yourperfectflaws]

HYDRA’s Pet ; 04

Pairing: James Bunchan Barnes x HYDRA!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic/ Familial)

Series Summary: As HYDRA’s favorite experiment, you were trained to follow orders perfectly. But, when you’re taken from the only home you’d ever known by the Avengers, you find yourself more lost than ever. However, out of all the things that could have happened to you, you’d never expected him to be one of them.

Chapter Summary: Your sexy ass is flown to Wakanda to meet T’challa’s genius sister, Shuri. 

Warnings: Two panic attacks, uhhhh mentions of violence and rape... and the word Hell

Word Count: 3.1k

Author’s Note: Here he comes bitchessss (I listened to Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica while writing this btw) HE’S FINALLY HEREEEE!!!! Also, the reader says something in Russian, which is in italics, so note that she’s not saying it harder, she’s saying it in another language. 

Prologue // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

January 18th, 2017 ; Wakanda

When you entered the ship, it was unlike anything you had ever seen before. It looked like it came out of a different dimension. Plus, the seats were so soft you felt like you were about to melt right into them. You looked up to see T’challa taking a seat in front of you. “Okoye, let’s go.”

Soon, you were in the air and along with the whir of the engine, you could hear your frantic heartbeat in your ears. You clung to the seat while trying to focus on your breathing. All the things that have happened to you within the past two days seemed to cause you to forget your fear of flying.  

It seemed the King noticed your distress because he sat next to you at placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. He started speaking to you in a deliberately calming voice. If it were anyone else, you would have blown up at them for talking to you like a child but there was something about the King that put you at ease.  

After a while you calmed down enough to hold a steady conversation. “I like your clothses,” you complimented, noticing the gold detailing around the collar. He chuckled lightly.  

“Thank you, it’s called a dashiki,” he said while smoothing down any imaginary wrinkles. You repeated the word under your breath, staring at the patterned shirt. He regarded you with a humorous glint in his eyes. “Would you like a pair?”

You nodded slightly. He laughed and scratched his forehead. You noticed how clean and smooth his skin was. He must take really good care of himself. Again, you felt a bubble of jealousy pop within your chest. Though, it didn’t make you angry. In fact, you didn’t even hesitate to compliment him, saying, “You are very handsome.” You gestured to him with your cuffed hands. His eyes widened and he gave you a nervous laugh.  

“We’re almost there, my King.” You heard a feminine voice from the cockpit call to T’challa. He stood and made his way to the cockpit. Not wanting to be alone, you carefully moved in the middle of the two seats and gazed out at the forest below.

“This is the best part.” T’challa smiled, watching as Okoye flew the ship dangerously close to the trees. Your stomach rolled.  

“We will crash!” You clutched the seat in front of you, knuckles turning white. If the collar wasn’t still on your neck, then the seat would have bent under your force.  

They both laughed and continued. And you soon saw why.  

Instead of crashing into the forest floor, it was as if there was a screen in front of you that glitched. Suddenly, there wasn’t a forest anymore. You stood there in awe at the sight in front of you. The futuristic buildings gleamed under the luminous sun, making the entire city glow with a warm, yellow light.  

You steadied yourself against the co-pilot's chair as Okoye brought the ship down onto a large landing pad in front of a gleaming building.  

As soon as you stepped foot outside of the ship, you were hit with a wave of relief. It felt good to be out of there and on solid ground. The King sent Okoye to do something you didn’t catch— you were watching a young woman speed walk up to the two of you.  

She bowed to T’challa extravagantly. “Your majesty.”

“Ah, stop that.” He swats his hand at her. “This is Y/n. She needs the algorithm you used on Barnes.”

You straightened your back, putting on a mask of confidence as he introduced you. The woman turned to you and sized you up, a delicious grin spreading across her lips. “What up? I’m Shuri, I’m nineteen, and I never fucking learned how to read.”

This caused T’challa to scold her for her language— even though you didn’t know what part of her introduction was wrong— and lying about her age. You assumed she was younger than what she said— she definitely appeared to be.  

Shuri began laughing, which to you sounded like bells, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m just having fun, brother, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not my fault you’re too old to understand that reference.”  

“I am sure she is older than I am,” T’challa responded, gesturing to you. He most likely received your file from the Avengers.  

Shuri gasped, placing a dramatic hand over her heart. “Don’t you know it’s rude to assume a woman’s age?”

“1953.” They both looked at you with confused expressions. Shuri seemed to be surprised by your voice. You probably had a strange accent, just like them. “I was born on 1953.”

“You’re more than sixty years old?” Shuri gaped at you, sizing you up again. “Jesus, woman, what’s your secret? How do you look so young?”  

“Shuri, we have a job to do remember?”

“No, I have a job to do.” She turned to her brother, who was staring at her with a deadpanned expression. She waved her hand at him before saying, “you just sit there looking pretty. Come on, let’s hurry.”

You followed the two of them into Shuri’s lab like some sort of lost puppy. For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest watching the two of them bicker playfully. It reminded you how deeply alone you were.  

You had nobody but Hydra for the longest time and now you don’t even have that. And although you had partners for missions and such, you never had anyone permanent in your life like the Commander was. But the relationship before you was nothing like the one you had with him. It was entirely different. There wasn’t one person having control over the other, they both just seemed at ease and comfortable. And you wanted that.  

Shuri stopped in her tracks, tearing you away from your train of thought. She held her arms out and smiled. “Welcome to my technological Disneyland.” She threw a pointed look at her brother. “Except I’m Walt Disney.”

“I never said I was taking you there, you just assumed.” He folded his arms over his chest, tilting his head at her. They began to bicker again as you observed the room below. You had never seen anything like it. The spiraling ramp around the thick pillar— filled with colorful artwork— was made entirely of lights that illuminated your boots as you walked. There were white display tables along the circular walls of the room, showing off invention after invention. Other people in white robes were working on projects along the tables.  

“You made this?” You asked, observing the gadgets in front of you.  

“Hell yeah I did!” She came up behind you and began demonstrating how one of them worked. You stared at her in awe.  

“You are very smart; I could never craft anything like these.”

She thanked you, throwing a smug grin at the King, who sighed.  

“We shouldn’t get off task, we’re here for a reason.”

Shuri waved him off. “Shhh, brother, let her continue.”  

“Shuri.”

“Ugh, fine, let’s go.” She linked her arm in yours and pulled you towards a door on the other side of the room. “Come on, Y/n, I want to show you more stuff I made.”

You walked with her, listening to her ramble on about all the technological advancements and upgrades she’d done within the past month. She led you down a hallway and into another room with similar design as her lab. The two of them walked ahead of you to set something up.  

As soon as you saw the pod, your heartbeat spiked and your stomach dropped down to your feet. You stopped in your tracks and stared at it with wide eyes. Images of the horrors you were subjected to within the Chamber flashed before your eyes. No. There was no way you were going back down.  

You didn’t realize you were walking backwards until you bumped into a work table and knocked over a few supplies. The two of them stopped speaking and turned around to look at you, confusion clear on their faces. “Y/n? Are you alright?” T’challa asked, taking a tentative step towards you. However, you backed up even more.  

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

You stared at them, fear in your eyes, and pleaded in a quiet voice. “Please... don’t... I am sorry.” Your knees gave out and you sunk to the floor, pushing yourself into the wall behind you. You felt hot tears race down your face and choked on them.  

They stared at you with pinched brows. You were cowering as T’challa stepped towards you, kneeling down to your level. “What do you mean?”

Your breathing was loud in your ears. “Please... don’t put me back in... I’ll be better...” You managed to say between gasps.  

“You don’t want to go in the pod?” You continued to hyperventilate, even after he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey, breathe. You’re okay.” After coaxing you into controlling your breathing, he held out a firm hand for you to take, which you hesitantly did. Pulling you up, he regarded you with a look of pity. Which again, under normal circumstances you would have told him off. But you didn’t seem to care.  

“Want to talk about it?” You shook your head, finding the floor suddenly interesting. “Well, you’re going to have to go in the pod anyways. It’s the safest way for Shuri to reprogram your mind.”  

“But I did something wrong?”  

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong.”  

Shuri placed a hand on T’challa’s shoulder. “Brother, I think they used the pod as a punishment.” She moved around him, taking you gently by the hand. “Come on, Y/n, I’ll set you up with a screen.”  

You followed, hesitantly of course, as she led you to a secluded area where there was a flat cot that was somehow levitating. You stared at it as she called over a few assistants. She came back and instructed you to lay down, explaining that they were going to do the procedure on the cot instead of in the pod.  

As you laid down on the cold metal surface, you wondered what they would do to your mind. You watched as the assistants inserted the IV and gave you a dose of anesthetics. And as you nodded off, you thought of your Commander and what he would say if he saw where you were now.  

.  

Shuri watched you go under as she brought up the holograms, bringing them closer so she could see better. Her brother was in another room talking with the merchant tribe leader so he’d left the two of you alone.  

She watched for a moment as your chest rose and fell as you lay unconscious on the cot and she had to admit it was kinda surreal— when you walked in here you had either a frown on your lips or tears in your eyes. So, seeing with such a peaceful expression was uncharacteristic and strange.  

“Let’s have a look at your memories, shall we?” She said, more to herself than you, as she pulled up the program.  

She saw a tiny version of you playing around the base with a tall man, giggling as you danced to Russian music, and making snowmen outside. She saw them train you, build your body to become a weapon. She saw your fear when you made a mistake— something that wasn’t easily overlooked with Hydra— and were forced into a pod to live out nightmares. She saw the hundreds of missions you’d been on, some with a man she was quite familiar with, and the countless deaths you caused. And then she saw something else. That same man forcing himself on you made her sick to her stomach.  

“Shuri, how’s it coming?” At her brother’s sudden voice, she jumped and quickly changed the memory to something else. But this one was much more violent. She turned around to see her brother walking towards her with knitted eyebrows.  

“What’s wrong? Did you see something?”

“Just this,” she lied, gesturing to the gruesome image. She had a feeling you didn’t want anyone to know about when that man had done to you, especially a King. She didn’t know if you realized what he’d done was wrong or not so she’d have to be as much of a role model to you as she could.  

She watched as her brother examined the content on the screen, shaking his head. You were shooting up several children and the sight made her want to vomit. “What have they done to this poor woman...?”  

“They raised her, brother.” She pulled up the earliest memory she could find. It was of a toddler walking for the first time. The image pulled at her chest, begging for her aid but she knew she could do nothing for her. At least not then. Now, she was going to do everything she could to help you.  

“She was scared, brother, and I know you could see it, too.” She glanced at him, watching his lips draw a fine line. “Hydra was the only place she’d ever known. I’m not surprised to see any of this.”

“Well, we need to do the same thing for her that we did for Sargeant Barnes.” He stared down at your sleeping face. “She doesn’t know it but she needs help and I’m afraid we’re the only people who can give it to her.”

.  

The first thing you heard when you regained consciousness was the steady beat of the heart monitor. You squinted open your eyes to find yourself laying on the same cot with holographic screens around your head and chest.  

You sat up and held your head in your hands, feeling it spin nauseatingly. After the spinning subsided, you stood and walked around the pillar wall and into Shuri’s lab. You noticed her sitting on a stool and working on a project.  

“Shuri.” You called out for her and she turned to look at you with a light smile.  

“You’re awake.” She put the pliers she was holding down as you approached her. “How are you feeling?”

“Not sure...” You thought for a moment. You felt strange, that much was for sure, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. You felt at ease, like everything was finally coming together. “Calm? Peaceful... Is normal?”

“Well considering our other ex-HYDRA soldier who we performed this algorithm on had the same feelings, I guess that statement could be correct.” She cleared her throat and turned on her stool.  

“So, since you’re supposed to be here for ‘rehabilitation’ or whatever.” She made dramatic air quotes with her fingers. “I guess you’ve got two choices. You can either be put on the same program that Sargeant Barnes is on where you live on the outskirts of the city... or you could stay in the building where me and my brother sleep. It’s all up to you.”

You stared at her for a moment before asking her for a coin. She stared at you in confusion but pulled one from her pocket nonetheless. Since it was difficult for you to make decisions for yourself, you figured having a coin do the work for you would save you a lot of stress. Deeming heads for the outskirts and tails for the inner city, you flipped the coin and caught it, flipping it once more on the back of your hand. It was tails. Inner city it was, then.  

Then, you had a realization. “This Sargeant Barnes... can I meet him?”

“Sure, but why?”

“Maybe I know him.”

“Craving a familiar face, I see...” She thought for a moment before springing up from her stool. “Alright, let’s go, then.”  

She linked your arms and you walked with her through the city. She mentioned she’d take you on a tour through Wakanda once you were settled in. She brought you to a small rural settlement filled with children running about, playing with each other, and brought you to a thatched house in front of a glistening river.  

“Sargeant Barnes! I have someone I’d like you to meet!”  

Bucky came out from his hut and smiled when seeing Shuri. “Shuri, I told you to— “ But when he saw you behind her, he dropped what he was holding and took a short step back. “What is she doing here?”

Shuri looked quizzically between the two of you, him standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and you observing a frog that hopped onto the shore. “Huh? Oh, Y/n’s here for rehab. She wanted to meet you for some reason.”

The frog hopped back into the water and you stood up in disappointment. Turning to look at him, you were met with his steely blue eyes. They bore into your head with fierce intimidation and you couldn’t help but look away. You didn’t recognize him without his arm but there was something familiar about him.  

Noticing your reluctance, Bucky sighed and stepped closer to you and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Bucky, nice to meet you.”

Your eyes widened and you stepped back. You recognized his voice. He was the Winter Soldier.  

He could tell you remembered him so he stepped back and held his hand up defensively, as if attempting to approach a wild animal. But you weren’t a wild animal... were you? You could hear your breathing in your ears, it rang inside your skull like alarm bells. Images and memories of your missions with him flashed before your eyes as you stared at him, unable to move. To run.  

“Y/n, Y/n!” Shuri called to you, breaking your frozen trance. She came between the two of you, staring firmly into your eyes. “You’re fine, he won’t hurt you. He was reprogrammed, too.”  

You steadied your breathing and stood up straight, regarding him dubiously. He hesitated before holding his hand out again for you to shake. You bit your lip before taking his hand, causing a soft smile to bloom across his rugged features. You figured that this could possibly be the start to a new friendship.  

...

Note: I’m sorry this fic took so long, I’ve been having troubles at home and haven’t had much time to sit down and write. I can’t guarantee that part 5 will be out soon either. But it will be out eventually. Patience is a virtue. 

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have a great day and stay safe!

Comment or reblog if you would like to be tagged. 

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[noblest-roman-of-all]

to dance on one’s grave

day five bringing us some bittersweet love, and my first attempt to write Virgil. 

ships: prinxiety

tw: death and gore ment. 

The lights of the old theater hum and flicker as they turn on, testament to how long ago they probably should have been replaced. Virgil huffs a laugh to himself as he walks towards the stage. The ghost lamp is still sitting there, which he flicks off in a moment. It’s not as if it actually does anything, on or off, but it's a habit at this point. He stands there for a moment, waiting to see if anything, or anyone, would appear, then turns towards the wings. 

“You’re so late today, I’d begun to worry you’d crossed over to my side without consulting me,” a voice calls from behind him. He kills the smile that begins to form as he turns around. Standing with his arms crossed is Roman, the utter asshole Virgil had somehow befriended during his long nights working at the theater. His brown hair was carefully unkempt as always, his white costume perfect except for the ugly stain of blood, still a bright red, across the center of his chest along where the gash that killed him sits. 

Oh yeah, Roman is a ghost. Virgil has a whole sixth sense, “I see dead people�� thing going on. Another reason he doesn’t get along well with people. 

“What makes you think I’d have time to consult you before I died? It’s generally not a choice, as you’re well aware,” Virgil responds. Roman throws his head back in a hearty laugh that from anyone else, Virgil would be sure is completely fake. But no, Roman is just like that. 

“Fair enough, my knight in gloomy armor,” Roman says. “What are we working on today?”

“We aren’t working on anything. I’m doing a double check on the stage props, making sure nothing’s missing. We haven’t got that long until opening night,” Virgil says, throwing the response over his shoulder as he heads further into the wings. Roman, predictably, is not far behind him. 

“Is that so? How long exactly is there?” Roman asks. 

“Two weeks. Opening night is the twenty-seventh, today is the thirteenth,” Virgil calls back absently, making his way through the mess of a backstage he’s been left with. He doesn’t notice how Roman trails behind slightly at the comment. 

The rest of the night goes surprisingly well. There’s nothing incredibly important missing, none of the stage props have massive portions of them that are damaged or unfinished, and most of the hand props are also complete and unbroken. Virgil walks through everything once more to double check, and then heads to the stage manager’s podium to make sure that they have the lighting cues noted. Through the whole night, he notices that Roman is being oddly quiet. Certainly not silent, but he trails off at times, or starts rambling on about stories he’s already told, which he usually never does. They make their way back to the stage, and when Roman lets out another forlorn sigh, Virgil stops in his tracks. 

“Alright, what’s up with you tonight dude? You’re acting all,” Virgil flails his arms, gesturing at Roman’s bent posture, “Weird. I dunno.” 

Roman wanders to center stage before responding. “I died 34 years ago today. I officially have been on earth as a ghost longer than I was alive.”

Virgil grimaces. “Oh. I, uh, didn’t know that.”

Roman chuckles, sad and empty and not at all like his normal, boisterous laugh. “There was no way for you to know. I never told you.” He sits down on the stage, legs pulled into his chest. He looks so… young, like this. Virgil sits near him, a few feet away. 

“Do- do you wanna, like, talk about it?” Virgil knows he could have done that a little better, but he openly admits he’s bad at emotional conversations. He’s out of his element here, but he’s trying. 

Roman seems to appreciate it, at least, because he gives Virgil a small smile. “I was supposed to be the prince in a performance of Cinderella here in 1984. We were doing our last dress rehearsal when something went wrong. Somehow, one of the lights shattered right before I got to have my dance with Cinderella. I pushed her out of the way, but… I wasn’t fast enough to save myself.” He looks down at the gash running from just below his sternum to his stomach. Virgil follows his gaze and notices, from this distance, that the wound is more jagged than he thought. He can imagine some massive piece of glass falling from the catwalk, sees Roman running to push his co-star out of the way only to be impaled. It’s… not a pleasant image. 

Roman sighs, looking out into the house. “I just wish… I wish I could’ve gotten to have that dance. Maybe it’s selfish, but… I don’t know,” he trails off, letting his head fall to his knees. Virgil can’t do anything but look for a moment. He’s never seen Roman so small, so sad. He wants to do something, to help somehow, but it’s not like he could magically give him that last dance. 

Unless… 

“Wait right here!” Virgil shouts, then runs to the speakers. He plugs in his phone, and goes through his phone to find the track he was looking for. Thank God he didn’t delete the songs from his last show. 

He runs back onto stage just as the first strains “Waltz for a Ball” began to filter through. He stops just before he runs directly into Roman and holds out a hand. 

“Fair warning, I don’t know the choreo for this, so you’ll have to guide me,” he says. Roman looks from his hand to his face, and he breaks into a bright grin. Virgil can’t help but smile back. 

“Worry not, I’ll be able to get us through this,” Roman says, full of his normal gravitas again. He grabs Virgil’s hand, feeling surprisingly solid, if a bit cold. Then he sweeps them into the dance. 

The dance is, in all honesty, quite simple. Virgil remembers that much from when he ran sound for it at another theater a while back. There’s lots of people dancing all in unison, so of course it’s relatively simple and easy to coordinate. That doesn’t make it any easier for Virgil, who is not a talented dancer (he works backstage for a reason), and who is rapidly becoming aware of just how bright Roman’s eyes are, and that he has a splash of freckles across his nose and cheekbones, and that he’s close enough to Roman’s face to make out details on his nose and cheekbones. 

Roman chuckles at some point, muttering that he’s “literally dancing on his own grave”, and that statement shocks Virgil back into a bit of reality. He’s dancing with a ghost. This isn’t some cute guy he somehow managed to flirt with, this is the ghost of a man who died decades ago, whose only source of companionship is the one person in the world who seems to be able to see him. 

It doesn’t make the heat leave his cheeks, and it doesn’t slow his beating heart, but it does sit like a rock uncomfortably in his stomach. 

The final strains of the song fade out, Virgil laughing as Roman says all of the lines of all of the actors in dramatic, ridiculous tones. They step away from one another slightly, Virgil’s face slightly red, Roman with a bright grin across his face. 

“I… thank you for that , Virgil,” Roman says suddenly. Virgil looks up at him, and he continues. “I never actually got to do that whole dance in costume. Obviously, this isn’t exactly how I thought it would happen, but…” Roman glanced up at Virgil, his eyes flitting over Virgil’s face. “I couldn’t ask for a better dance partner.” His soft smile knocks the breath right out of Virgil’s lungs, so he can only stare for a moment. In fact, it’s his prolonged staring that makes him realize something. 

“Uh, Roman? Why are you getting more see through?” Roman’s face morphs into a state of shock when he looks down at his own body, apparently also seeing the way he’s quickly fading. Then he lets out a slightly hysterical laugh. 

“The last dance. That’s what was keeping me here. But you helped me resolve it, so now I can-”

“You can pass over,” Virgil finishes his sentence with not a small amount of dread. If Roman passes over, he never gets to see him again. He never gets to have long, ridiculous conversations about absolute nonsense during his long hours. 

Roman gives him a sad sort of smile, like he knows exactly what Virgil is thinking, which of course he does. He seems to be able to read Virgil like a book. He reaches out and lays a gentle hand on Virgil’s cheek. 

“Thank you. Not just for this last dance, but for all of the nights you kept me company. For all of the secrets you divulged to me. For all of the love you let me feel, for the first time in a very long time. I just ask one thing of you: don’t forget me, please.” By the time he finishes, he’s almost completely gone. Virgil puts his hand over Roman’s, trying to cling to his last few moments with him. 

“I couldn’t forget you, even if I wanted to,” Virgil whispers. Roman leans forward, eyes closing, and brushes a soft kiss against Virgil’s lips. Before Virgil can respond, he’s gone.