#I have reasoning for EVERY fanmade part of this fic

[good-morzan-inheritance-cycle]

For the ‘good’ morzan fic, I have him and his family living with the elves.

The amount of bullying my poor baby Murtaugh will go through hurts. But he does get a pet raccoon so levels it out.

[isekyaaa]

I'm going to say again like I know it is really dumb to feel this way, but I finally put into words why I get so annoyed when people ask me for a part 2 to one of my works. Like I explained once to people that writing is a very slow and arduous task for me, but it's more than that?

Picture you are an artist working on a painting. You spend months on it to get everything just right. You pour time and energy into getting the perfect composition, the perfect lighting, the perfect shades etc. And then finally, you finish it. After a year, you finally finished your masterpiece. And your work is a hit. People really like it. But then.... Someone comes up to you and says, "Gosh, I really love this painting! But you know what? I love it so much that I think the painting is much too small. You know what? You should add on two extra feet of canvas onto the right side of your painting. That way, you can add on more to your painting and it'll be even bigger and more enjoyable!"

To me, that's what it feels like when someone asks for a part two. Like this last fic honest to God I started on more than a year ago. Granted, I'd pick it up and put it back down, but I put a lot of work into making sure everything was as perfect as possible. It's not an amazing fic, mind you, but it still gave me a lot of trouble. But eventually I finished it into a COMPLETE work. It's a finished painting. That's the story I wanted to tell in its entirety.

I get why people want a part two. I get that the story ends to leave you wanting to know what happens next. But that's the point. That's the story I wanted to tell. It's complete. This isn't supposed to be pure romance. It's supposed to be more on the comedic side. But when people ask for a part two, it's like they're telling me that they're not satisfied with my artwork, that it's not perfect and needs more work for it to become perfect. It's like they're ignoring all the year's worth of effort I put into making sure the composition, wording, humor, etc was just right. Not only that. I should put another year's worth of work into making it truly perfect. It's insulting and exhausting.

Granted, like I said, I do understand people completely do not intend to make me feel this way. I'm not irritated with these people directly. I know it's supposed to be a compliment. But like.... Maybe it's because I'm prideful but I really can't help but be insulted. It's telling me that I didn't do a good job as a writer.

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

The differences in cultures and behaviors between different fandoms is so fascinating to me, I love just musing on the various differences

Back in my Warrior Cats phase on scratch there was barely an single fanart of canon characters, everything was original characters and original clans.

During my time in the Genshin Impact fandom people would play with the various canon character elements to make new characters but there wasn't quite the level of wholly divorced from canon stories there.

There was shipping tho! An absolutely unhinged amount of shipping. Every single character who wasn't a literal child had at least one, maybe two default/mainstream ship partners that most people shipped them with, then a handful of rarer ships as well

Then I moved to Dream SMP 'cus I heard that it had a lot of platonic relationships that were so popular that they made it into the top 100 ao3 ships multiple years in a row, and I was getting pretty romanced out by Genshin at that point so it seemed like a perfect choice.

And it was! Dream SMP had the best platonic relationship representation of any fandom I've been in before or since. But it has the dark flipside to it, where the reason was partially because the fans were freaking off the rails toxic and hostile to the mere suggestion that any character might ever be attracted to another

The Hermitcraft and Life Series are better with platonic relationships than Genshin Impact, but nowhere near as good as DSMP, with the return of a handful of mainstream ships, but not the pressure to have a ship for every single character

Then there's the fascinating ways MCYT fandoms had every characters' designs and even species up in the air and it's common place to just make any random guy part any random animal, which is incredible fun

But then OCs in the MCYT fandom are a whole other thing, as they tend to come most in the Warriors style where they come out of fanmade servers and tend to be fairly divorced from canon most of the time, only generally inspired by the setting

And now in the Magnus Archives fandom we've got the canon ships, with one specific one vastly dominating the whole fandom to even more extremes than any singular Genshin ship ever reached, which I've gathered is a pretty common experience in other fandoms but this has been my first time actually experiencing it first hand

And TMA has a similar thing with Warrior Cats where it works really well as a set of world building that can be shoved upon other fictional characters for some fun AUs, which was never really a thing with MCYT (though I think it kinda was with Genshin Impact, to a degree, where people would draw other characters in Genshin splash art style and assign them Visions and all that.)

Warriors is by far the most extreme of these, up with My Little Pony in terms of how you're almost guaranteed to see at least one fanart of the characters in any fandom drawn as warrior cats/ponies

And then there's the popular AU types! Genshin Impact was chock full of highschool AUs. Dream SMP had Foster Family AUs and Superhero AUs galore (especially with SBI), but it also had a smaller Humans Are Space Orcs / Alien AUs phenomen that I've not been able to find again in my other fandoms since. I never read enough Life Series and Hermitcraft fanfic to get a good grasp on their popular AUs, but various flavour of Modern AU with the characters assigned random jobs seemed common, and they had a lot of Superhero AUs spawned by HoTGuY. TMA is mostly everyone is happy AUs, like No Paranormal Nonsense AUs and Happily Ever After Post Canon AUs, but also a whole heckin' lot of Time Travel (usually fix-it fic) AUs, which is something I never really saw in the other fandoms

I don't have a good ending to this post as there's no real point to it, it's just me babbling about fandoms

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Sundrop! Hi, I've always been a quiet reader (not because I don't think offering comments and engagement is important, but because I usually wait until I have something articulate and meaningful to say which can usually take me multiple reads) but I just wanna say I'm literally so sorry that people are critiquing your work. Posting your writing anywhere is a kindness, it's a contribution, and unfortunately, it's really brave. I say unfortunately because you shouldn't have to be brave to engage in what you love, you should be able to share it freely without expecting people to crawl put of the woodwork to tell you all the things they think you did "wrong" like it's their duty to give their opinion like it's fact. Convenient that the parts that aren't to their personal taste are the parts they comment on, it's like they get the message but pay no attention to how it was sent and let their biases take them from there. What about all of the effort that went into the presentation, the carefully selected prose, the references, the way every fic can come across as a love letter if you just think about it the right way? Everything that's missed or misconstrued in the interpretation?

There are some readers out there who can't stand their 'stand in' being flawed or human in any way, down to the smallest of traits or actions. What that really tells me is that they just don't like it when an MC has any discernable personality. I think these people need to start comprehending that relationships are literally just two people deciding to reside in eachothers orbits and be in eachothers space and generally put up with eachother, and making that choice every day. Sorry if that sounds incomprehensible, what I'm trying to say is that nobody, least of all their precious uwu blorbo is being victimised by having to put up with some snark. News flash: these stories only work because Main Pairing Guy is choosing to engage in the titular dynamic as well. They knowingly expose themselves to this 'problematic behaviour'. If you wouldn't 'put up with it personally' good for you. But this isn't real life and even in fiction not everybody thinks like you or just happens to abide by your personal boundaries. (I say guy because somehow I think that female pairings dont get this treatment nearly as much, maybe because the target audience is already marginalised and dont feel the need to marginalise themselves further with blown out of proportion critiques on literal personality traits).

Not being a timid demure little saintly woman figure does not make them malicious or even offensive, it makes them interesting. It makes the exchanges between characters more fun and fulfilling. I actually relate a lot to the way you write your reader characters– and that's because I'm not insecure enough to think that me being sarcastic or standoffish or understandably guarded by nature makes me a bad person, nor does it even make me particularly 'mean'. Anyone who finds issue with these portrayals maybe needs to do a little introspection on themselves and think about why they're taking it so personally that they feel the absolute need to speak up about it on a public forum.

Writing not being to your personal taste doesn't make it bad writing. It just means it's not for you. If you find yourself in that situation, acknowledge that and move on. It costs zero energy to not go around spreading negativity for no reason. You are not the target audience. 'She' was not written with your voice in mind, and that's perfectly okay. You don't have any say on what a content creator puts out, nor should you. It's the writers vision, not yours, be greatful they're willing to share it with you. Nobody is entitled to it. I'm not saying you have to enjoy it, just do the decent thing and keep it to yourself if you don't. 'Don't like, don't read' is such a simple concept.

I hope you continue to enjoy writing and that you don't take their negativity to heart or let it influence your enjoyment of what can be such a fulfilling and downright therapeutic hobby. I know it's hard to see when so many readers choose to stay silent, but they are the loud minority. A lack of engagement is a disappointing reality on pretty much every platform and it must be so disheartening for content creators. I'm doing my best to try and contribute more, even if its just anonymously for now, and I hope more people start speaking up with all the nice things they have to say instead. I'm sorry you had to put up with all my rambling, but I hope at least some of it was something somebody needs ro hear. Sending you good vibes and inspiration! ☆☆☆

Omg, okay. this is very long and I do have a lot to say about this

Well for one - I do appreciate quiet readers.

Something disheartening is when people leave a like on my work and don't comment or reblog - especially when there is a huge disconnect between the amount of likes and the amount of comments. Because when something has 1000s of likes and 2 comments, it's usually from a fandom that is very over saturated and popular, and it feels like people are saying: your work is just like any other, and there is nothing special about it or worth commenting on about your work. I have 100s of fics to choose from, and when I read yours, nothing stood out to me about your work as valuable or particularly entertaining, so I don't care to talk to you about it and I don't care if I lose it in my 1000s of liked posts because it's not that unique or that great. And some people use their liked fics as bookmarks, so seeing so many people leave likes and no comments, it's like "yeah, I saw the summary of your fic, I was interested, I liked it, but I didn't give a shit to come back to it and actually read it. other fics are more worthy of my time."

But if people are too shy to comment or they genuinely don't have anything to say (or if they're worried that they don't have anything thoughtful to say) - reblog it. Reblog it without a comment, and it makes an author feel 1000x times better than if you just leave a like. Especially if your reblog is tagged as 'TBR' or even just tagged with the character's name - it means I know you value my fic and don't want to lose it, whether you have read it already or not. It means I know you think my fic is worth sharing with other people. It means I know you're enthusiastic about my fic. So many other things.

Reblogging can be just as golden as a comment sometimes.

Also I always encourage shy people to comment while using anon.

Anyway - moving on.

Everything you are saying is so, so right. Sharing your art is brave, but I remember a time when people would consistently share fics of a much lower quality - which isn't a mockery, it's just me saying that fandom used to be much more casual, and making 'bad' art used to be widely accepted. Now, people are clearly terrified to make 'bad' art, so even if they make it, they don't share it.

It used to be that fandom was a space where you were joking around with your friends, passing notes in class and goofing off, and now people act like fandom is a fucking transaction. But now people act like fandom is a service where you can blatantly complain if there's stuff you don't like - as if fanfiction writers are the person behind the counter at the Burger King and you go up and order whatever you want, and if they don't give it to you, there is someone above them that you can complain to. (Also the people 'ordering' act like they have aboslutely no power to make a burger for themselves and they are gonna starve if they don't get it right now.)

And there is a huge percentage of people who say that writing fanfiction is 'too hard' so they just don't do it - when they don't realize that 90% of their favourite fics are written by people in their late 20s, 30s, and 40s who used to write the most terrible, cringey, self insert fics riddled with spelling errors and polyvore sets and random Japanese ANs (and people used to write these fics seriously) - all your favourite authors had growing pains.

Nobody starts off perfect. And no, writing fanfiction is not easy - but it's supposed to be a labor of love and passion and it's a skill that you're supposed to develop over time, which is why you do it.

The whole point of fanfiction is that it's fanmade. It's literally the number one 'do it yourself' hobby ever. And there are no fans who are more qualified to make fics than others. If you are a fan of something and you know any written language, you are qualified to make your own fanfiction.

But in this currently climate, people who don't write fics because it's 'too hard' feel entitled to fics written by people who have been practising for years.

Also I love what you have said here: "convenient that the parts that aren't to their personal taste are the parts they comment on"

There is such a recent negativity culture. People don't understand that thinks they don't like aren't for them - they think that everything should be for them, and aspects they don't like about it should be changed or weeded out to their liking. And in the vein of negativity culture, so many people take a strange kind of joy in being openly negative and being such a 'hater'. And it is just so strange to me.

Fandom is supposed to be a space where we come together in order to celebrate our love for something - so why would you bring such a negative attitude to those spaces? Why not participate in these spaces with enthusiasm and love - and if you find something that you don't like, why not just ignore it in favor of the things that you do love?

Especially when there are so many genuinely awful things out there in the world - why do you want to create more negativity in spaces that are supposed to be a fun mental escape? Why waste your energy focusing on things that annoy you, piss you off, make you angry - when fandom is supposed to be about focusing on things we love that bring us joy?

"There are some readers out there who can't stand their 'stand in' being flawed or human in any way, down to the smallest of traits or actions."

This is just true. And it's annoying.

Writing flawed characters - whether it's a reader character or a canon character - makes for something so much more interesting. And I don't understand why people seemingly want to read a story where the characters have no flaws and there is no conflict.

Not being a timid demure little saintly woman figure does not make them malicious or even offensive, it makes them interesting.

Again - thank you.

So many of my female reader characters have been accused of being 'mean' or 'bitchy' - as if that's the worst thing that a female character can be.

"I actually relate a lot to the way you write your reader characters– and that's because I'm not insecure enough to think that me being sarcastic or standoffish or understandably guarded by nature makes me a bad person, nor does it even make me particularly 'mean'."

Genuinely, thank you.

This means a lot to me.

I like it when people enjoy my reader characters because I always try to make their personalities engaging and I try to make them fun to ride with as the story is being told. Some people genuinely expect the reader character to be just like them. They expect the reader character to have no mentions of a backstory, an occupation, nothing. And what bothers me is that this falls into the trap of the reader character - usually female - being some jobless homebody housewife type that the canon character just comes home to. As if a woman's only value in a man's story is to be a sex object for him to come home and fuck.

Like if I had a dime for every single story that intros with the canon character man coming home to his anonymous wifie reader character and with 0 discussion of her life, her interests, her personality, they only discuss his life, his interests, his potential conflicts and then they start fucking. Yes, I get that it's to make the reader character more ambiguous, but it's so boring and it makes all fanfictions so generic with each other and it makes the woman feel like such an accessory to his life rather than feeling like her own person.

I always want the reader and the canon character to be active participants in the story. Because that makes it more interesting.

"Writing not being to your personal taste doesn't make it bad writing. It just means it's not for you. If you find yourself in that situation, acknowledge that and move on. It costs zero energy to not go around spreading negativity for no reason. You are not the target audience."

I just wanted to highlight this.

And thank you - I will continue writing for as long as I can. I hope to continue writing well into my 30s, 40s, etc. as long as my chronic illness allows me to be well enough in order to do so. I really don't want to let stuff like this get me down.

And honestly, I have been writing for so many years - it's my default. I don't think I can stop writing. I just hope that speaking out about stuff like this will make the environment kinder for myself and other writers.

Anyway - thank you so much for this lovely message <3 I really do appreciate it

[fungifanart]

A song of hatred sung by despair

Characters: male!Yuu, Crowley, Ace, Cater, Deuce, Trey, Riddle, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Jade, Floyd, Azul, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Ortho, Malleus, Lilia, Sebek

Word count: 3.6k

CW: Body horror, cursing

Notes: Alright, so this is the full version of that fic I posted a little while ago and it is based off of a concept for my Yuu's overblot that I drew a few months ago. I've spent longer than I'd care to admit on this so I sincerely hope you enjoy. (Those of you who really know what the overblot is a reference to may be confused at my choices, but just know that I chose a fanmade translation for the convenience of the uninitiated) (Also there's a part 2 now)

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

It’s been almost a full year since you arrived in this world. Almost a full year since you were separated from your family. Almost a full year since you were given no choice but to start playing errandboy for Crowley in exchange for a roof to sleep under.

It’s been almost a year and yet you still have no means of going home. You’ve been trying with everything you have to stay optimistic, but positive thoughts can only get one so far when it’s unclear whether or not Crowley’s actually been researching a way to send you back.

You’ve been seeking out every possible distraction from your darker thoughts, but with summer break approaching and most students preparing to leave for vacations, you’ll soon find yourself dangerously low on options.

Your anxiety festers as the summer months approach, not knowing if your time in twisted wonderland will extend over that period.

That is, until you receive a message from the headmage, telling you to meet him in his office alone.

You leave Grim with Ace and Deuce and begin walking to your destination as your mind begins to wonder about the reason for you being summoned.

If the headmage wants to speak with you alone then that could mean he’s found a way to send you home!

You don’t want to get your hopes up, but you can’t deny the possibility! And if it’s true then all of your waiting will have been worth it!

Right?

You close the door behind you and sit down across from the silent headmage, who seems to be deliberating on how to begin the conversation.

You were about to ask why he called you here when he suddenly begins to speak.

“Over the past year since your arrival, you have completed countless tasks for myself, this school and your fellow students.” He begins in a voice laced with uncertainty, “And in return, I have provided you with clothing, shelter and the opportunity to attend this academy during your time in this world.”

…Where is he going with this?

“Additionally, as promised, I’ve also spent countless hours researching possible methods by which to return you to your homeworld.” He continues, his voice beginning to waver ever so slightly.

Your breath hitches at that statement.

Is it time? Can you finally go home?!

“However…”

…what?

“After pursuing every possible lead,”

No…

“And conducting countless tests,”

No.

“I must regretfully inform you…”

No no no no no NO NO NO NO NO

“It is my conclusion that, as of this current moment, there is truly no possible way for you to return home.” The headmage concludes with sadness in his voice.

Your mind goes blank. Your heart stops. Your hands go numb. Your stomach drops.

You try to stand up, but your legs are too weak.

You open your mouth to speak, but your voice dies in your throat.

The carefully-constructed facade you put up begins to crumble as you look around and those words sap the colors from the world around you and replace them with a dull grey.

You continue to sit there, spiraling until the headmage’s voice pulls you from your thoughts or lack thereof.

“Worry not, however! You will still be able to attend this school as you have been, so you’ll just have to bear with it for a while longer!” He says in a forced cheerful tone.

However, those words have the opposite effect than likely intended as the moment they come out of Crowley’s mouth, you feel something snap in your brain that sends you bolting upright from your chair and walking out of his office while ignoring him asking where you’re going.

You unconsciously begin walking faster and faster until you break out into a run as you make your way through the halls, pushing past any and every student or faculty member that gets in your way.

Your way to where, exactly? You don’t really know.

You ignore the sounds of Sebek chastising you for running in the halls and the shouts of many others following in curiosity/concern.

They don’t want to help. This is just entertainment for them. They don’t care. They never did.

You’ve been utterly alone since the beginning of this shitshow.

You ignore the pure black droplets flowing out of your eyes and onto the ground as you run.

You ignore the cloud of thick, black miasma swirling around you and clouding your vision.

You ignore everything.

You don’t care anymore.

You just want the loneliness to stop.

You just want the pain of forgetting your loved ones to stop.

You just want it to go away.

You just want it all to go away.

If you had your way, it would all just…

D I S A P P E A R

—————————————————————

Crowley immediately gives chase after the Prefect leaves his office. He should’ve known that telling him the truth was a mistake. At first, he only saw him as an inconvenience to be dealt with in a way that wouldn’t damage his school’s reputation, but as the weeks turned into months and he got to know him, Crowley started to see the Prefect as a son he’d never had, which is why he felt the need to be honest with him.

Regardless, he continues to chase after the unstable Prefect, surprised by how quickly he can run despite his mental state, while calling out his name and telling him to stop. An action which draws the attention of several other students whom the Prefect is known to be affiliated with.

The chase continues as the crowd grows larger until it seemingly contains all of the housewardens and several others associated with them.

Crowley begins to lose sight of the prefect as the large group struggles through the tight hallways before noticing something both confusing and alarming: A trail of pure black droplets being left in the prefect’s wake.

No. That isn’t possible.

Only those who can use magic are capable of overblotting.

He keeps listing all the reasons why this shouldn’t be possible to himself, but the evidence before him is undeniable.

The chase finally ends as they find the Prefect collapsed on his knees on the steps leading to Ramshackle dorm as a thick miasma swirls around him. Several of the Prefect’s friends call out his name and begin running towards him, but stop when Crowley holds out his arms in front of them, “Wait. Something is very, very wrong. If you get too close, your life may be at risk.” He says with caution.

“What? Why?” Ace asks, “We can’t just not help him! He’s clearly about to—“

“Burst.” Leona interrupts in a dead serious tone of voice.

“Exa— Wait what?” Ace responds in confusion, “What do you mean—“

“HIS BODY IS ABOUT TO EXPLODE!!!” Those words from Leona immediately cause everyone’s attention to return to the Prefect as the miasma absorbs into his body, causing it to swell and develop glowing cracks.

They can then only watch in horror as the Prefect’s body shatters into pieces and an inky black mass erupts out of what remains to the sound of…bells?

The bell sounds become more plentiful and are joined by a metallophone as the mass of ink takes shape into an immense purple flower and a figure that strongly resembles the Prefect rises from the center.

Well, this is…different from the others.

“Surround him! Quickly!” Crowley orders, “Whatever he’s about to do is going to be very bad so we need to contain the damage as much as possible!”

The bells begin to ring in rhythm and music begins to play as everyone finishes surrounding the Prefect with their magic pens in hand, keeping up their guard for whatever might be thrown at them.

However, the Prefect says nothing and instead begins to sing in a beautiful, but haunting voice.

Flower, blackest plight, sings of tarnished white

Within darkness, blooming, undue new life

Forlorn songs of angels, cry at the end of time

As the Prefect sings, rings of pure magic expand from his mouth on beat with the music and with clear malicious intent, which Crowley manages to block, but he can’t help but notice the way the Prefect is moving: Slow and methodical, making guarded gestures in all directions before covering his eyes like he’s crying.

‘He must’ve felt like he was under attack from all sides…’ This thought causes Crowley’s mind to recall all the times he pushed his lesser tasks onto him. He'd thought it was a just payment for everything being provided, but clearly that's not how the Prefect sees it.

The lyrics stop, but the song continues and the tempo begins to accelerate as a second figure rises from one of the flower’s five petals, a figure whose head bears a striking resemblance to—

————————————————————————

Riddle has seen many things beyond comprehension since his enrollment at NRC, but…whatever this is is on a completely different level.

He tries to attack while the Prefect isn’t singing, but his magic seemingly has no effect, leaving him to only watch as a second figure emerges from one of the five petals, one whose head is exactly the same as the entity that appeared during his own overblot.

“Why does it look like…?” Riddle says to himself.

“Ugh, if only he wasn’t trying to kill us, this would be such a #Aesthetic shot right now.” Cater comments thoughtlessly.

“Is now REALLY the time to think about that?!” Trey responds urgently.

It sounds as if they might get into an argument before Deuce’s voice gets their attention, “Uh, guys? I think he’s about to start singing again!”

Branching time, endless sorrow, beyond fate, in this silence

The rings come from the second entity this time as it moves it’s arms in large, exaggerated motions towards the Prefect, seeming almost like praise, but feeling like a mockery. If the second entity is meant to represent Heartslabyul, then…

“Does he think we were making fun of him?” Riddle wonders out loud, thinking back to the jokes Ace and Deuce would make at the Prefect’s expense, all the photos of him that Cater posted on Magicam without his permission, all the times he used his signature spell on him for breaking a rule despite knowing full well it wouldn’t do anything…

“Oh come on!” Ace retorts, “I know I can come off as kinda mean, but I never meant to hurt his feelings!”

“Unfortunately, whether or not you meant to doesn’t matter as clearly his feelings got hurt regardless.” Trey says, visibly troubled, “Of course, I’m not innocent here, either. There were times when I made fun of him for simple mistakes…”

Being forced to confront the ways they’ve wronged the Prefect causes Heartslabyul’s morale to waver as the music speeds up again and another entity emerges from the next petal.

————————————————————————

Leona watches in silence as the tempo speeds up more and the next entity emerges, revealing its head to be the same as the one from his overblot.

“Wow, who’d have thought that the Prefect could sing like this?” Ruggie comments.

“Focus! He could start singing again at any-“ Jack begins.

However, his words are cut short when Leona listens to the music and realizes, “Look alive you two! The next verse is starting!”

Claws of white, newborn light, strong and right, rise now

Leona blocks the rings of magic as he watches how the second entity moves: Aggressive punching and shoving motions towards the Prefect. Leona isn’t stupid. He knows what this means.

“Jeez, and here I thought he was the type to take things in stride.” Ruggie comments offhandedly.

Jack scoffs in response, “Implying that being pickpocketed AT LEAST once a week is something that can be taken in stride.”

“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t gotten physical with him before!” Ruggie argues as the two start bickering.

‘Or kept him from class just to take a nap…’ Leona thinks to himself as his mind conjures countless examples of his own wrongdoing. He thought that he was helping the Prefect be more relaxed, but maybe that only made things worse…

‘No.’ Leona thinks, ‘He would’ve told me if that wasn’t what he wanted…………right?’ His confidence begins to crack, allowing doubt to creep into his mind.

The song continues, despite Savannaclaw falling unorganized, and the next entity rises from the third petal.

————————————————————————

Azul is trying to focus on the rhythm, he really is, but the familiar sight of the next entity’s head combined with Jade and Floyd’s incessant babbling despite the circumstances makes it all the more difficult to concentrate.

“Heeeyyy, Shrimpy! You didn’t tell me you could turn into a flower! What kinda flower are you???” Floyd calls out in his usual carefree tone.

“I see you haven’t been paying attention in Herbology.” Jade responds, “Based on the shape and color of the petals, that appears to be a nightshade.”

“Indeed,” Vil remarks from beside Azul, “Its fruit is known for its highly poisonous properties. Though, I don’t know how much of that applies here.”

“Which is all the more reason you two need to FOCUS!” Azul calls out to Jade and Floyd as the next verse starts.

I have known wayward winds, ever lost, fade into daybreak

Azul barely manages to block the next set of rings in time, ‘Ugh. I wish I could’ve kept that one customer’s sense of rhythm.’ He thinks to himself while he studies the third entity’s movements: Numerous grabbing motions before holding out its hand expectantly.

“Well, that hardly seems fair! We only took as much as was laid out in the terms of the contracts that HE signed!” Azul says indignantly.

“Didn’t we kinda get him to sign A LOT of contracts, though?” Floyd thinks out loud.

Their thoughts are cut-off by Grim butting in, “Well, THAT’S an understatement! I’ll bet you guys have a whole ‘nother safe just to keep all those contracts he signed to make ends meet in! It’s no wonder he hates you!” He concludes angrily.

‘I suppose we could’ve stood to be more forgiving in our terms…’ Azul muses while reconsidering his business decisions.

Little does he realize that, during his musings, the tempo of the song is speeding up again and the fourth entity is emerging.

————————————————————————

Kalim, admittedly, has…no idea what’s going on. One minute, he was spacing out during class, the next he was chasing after the Prefect with the others and now the Prefect is a flower???

His brain struggles to keep up with everything that’s happening, but is pulled back to reality when he realizes that the fourth entity has emerged and the next verse is starting.

A wandering soul howls to the sky, forever through ages

The sight of Jamil’s entity attacking him and the others again draws up bad memories as he blocks the rings and notices how this entity is moving: Slow, circular and symmetrical arm movements that seem almost hypnotic in nature. This can only be referring to…

“I guess he still hasn’t forgotten the incident over winter break…” Jamil comments as if he was reading Kalim’s mind.

“To be fair, if someone hypnotized me, kept me imprisoned for several days and then tried to kill me, I’d probably find it more than a little hard to get past.” Idia responds from across the way.

“A LITTLE?!” Grim cries out, “Did he tell you how much he was panicking while we were stuck in there?!”

‘This stuff’s been eating away at the Prefect this whole time and yet I’ve done nothing to help. Some friend I am…’ Kalim chastises himself as the tempo speeds up for a fifth time and the, presumably, last entity emerges from the fifth petal.

————————————————————————

Malleus can’t help the twinge of guilt he feels at the sight of one of his very few friends suffering like this with him being none the wiser. Every conversation they’d had since they met plays in his mind as he searches for any indication that this would happen and every way he could’ve prevented it.

He realizes that he can’t forget about the song, though, as the final entity emerges from the fifth petal. However, one thing he notices is that this one doesn’t resemble any other overblot entities the Prefect had encountered, instead having a simple spherical bottle as its head.

‘Could this be the real entity?’ Malleus wonders as the next verse starts with the tempo faster than ever.

Oh, may sleep come take you

Death leaves you cold.

Life laid to waste, wretches gave haste, damned are they now.

Malleus blocks the rings with ease as he closely studies the final entity’s movements: Frantic flailing and open-armed gestures towards the Prefect that felt almost like some sort of praise?

“He was trying desperately to cheer himself up, but ultimately failed…” Lilia interprets while helping Silver hold back a screaming Sebek.

“HUMAN!!! HOW DARE YOU ATTACK MALLEUS-SAMA!!!” Sebek yells amongst other things at the Prefect despite his inability to respond.

Malleus's attention quickly returns to the Prefect as the tempo of the song slows down unexpectedly and the Prefect and the entities all begin moving in sync.

---‐-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Crowley watches with great concern as the song appears to be reaching the final verse and yet they still have done no visible damage to the Prefect's overblot.

'At this rate, he'll be...' Crowley thinks anxiously.

"Guys, I think he’s starting to really lose it!" Deuce calls out urgently as the Prefect and the entities' movements become more erratic and unhinged by violently shaking and grabbing at their heads and flailing their arms in all directions.

"But what can we do?! Our attacks aren't working!!" Kalim questions frantically.

"My analyses have yet to reveal any weak points!" Ortho comments.

"Pull yourselves together!" Crowley orders his students, "Our only hope is to hold fast until the song is finished and then attack all at once! Be strong! For the Prefect!!!"

Crowley finishes his announcement and readies to guard for the last time as the final verse begins.

Desecrated minds, figments of grief and lies

Flowered monsters, hear these faint cries

Flower, blackest plight, sings of tarnished white

Bitter are those prayers now drenched in blood

Flower, blackest plight, songs of crimson sight

Flames redemptive seize it, till then it claims this eye

Flower, blackest plight, is the song of might that will sound a day in which all shall

disappear...

The music fades away as the Prefect and the entities come to a complete stop and the Prefect stops singing for the final time.

Blocking the last of the rings, Crowley waits for the music to completely stop before calling out, "NOW! ATTACK!!"

At those words, he and all of the students unleash a barrage of magic attacks, completely overwhelming the Prefect with a wave of sheer arcane might that finally causes his overblot form to crumble before releasing a large burst of light that engulfs the senses of everyone present.

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

A series of images begins to play across everyone's minds: Memories of the Prefect’s homeworld.

They see him helping his mother make dinner. Helping his father clean out the garage. Playing video games with his siblings. Going out shopping with his old friends.

All of these memories play over and over as more and more details become fuzzy.

"Is that how she always made it?"

"Didn’t we move the step-ladder into the other corner?"

"Did we ever end up beating that game?"

"I don't remember buying that..."

The doubts and inconsistencies get larger and more plentiful until the memories are nothing more than a jumbled mess of half-forgotten faces and voices.

The sound of the Prefect crying fades into hearing as he tries desperately to cling to what memories he has left.

"At this rate, I won't be able to remember anything about them!" The Prefect says to himself between sobs, "I-I don't want to forget them! What should I do?!"

The jumbled memories then disappear and are replaced by ones he's made since being brought to Twisted Wonderland.

They see him going to class with Grim, Ace and Deuce. Cooking with Jamil and baking with Trey. Napping during class with Leona and going on nightwalks with Malleus. Numerous more happy memories play in their minds.

However, the happy memories are soon replaced with unpleasant ones. Being condescended to by Sebek for being magicless. Being scolded by Professor Trein for missing class. Getting yelled at by Professor Crewel for missing a potion ingredient. Feeling insulted when being collared by Riddle for the smallest things. Having to work long shifts at the Mostro Lounge just to keep him and Grim fed.

The bad memories continue unceasingly as the Prefect’s sobs get louder.

"W-what should I do...?" He asks again.

"Get over it." A memory of a familiar face says to him.

"Just forget it." Another memory says.

"Stop running away!"

"The truth is right in front of you."

"Oh, man up!"

"GROW. UP."

"Denial is hardly flattering."

"You're just making excuses!"

"How weak."

"I didn't know you were this selfish."

"I'm very disappointed in you."

"When will you learn?"

"It’s pointless."

The memories swirl around the Prefect, spouting insults and telling him to give up before parting to allow one last memory that says "There is truly no possible way for you to return home." In a condescending tone.

All sound stops in that moment, except for the Prefect’s gasp in sheer horror at that last statement.

The Prefect’s breathing grows heavy and uneven before he lets out a guttural cry,

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!"

The light fades as Crowley and the others find themselves back in front of Ramshackle with the Prefect lying unconscious on the ground.

[vickyvicarious]

do u have any atla fic recs? all time faves? can be shippy or not

Fun fact, I am incapable of holding back on reclists. In other words: brace yourself, anon. There’s a reason I put most of this behind a cut.

First off, these are almost all Zuko-centric, because I shamelessly play favorites. I’ll sort them by author rec, gen, shippy, and then by other characters because honestly the numbers break down well that way. Within those categories it’ll be more just as I think of it, so no special meaning to the order. I’m not always good about bookmarking even my faves, so some excellent stuff will no doubt be missing, especially since I haven’t read a lot of the more recent stuff yet/forgot some really old stuff, but this will definitely still give you plenty of fic to enjoy.

There’s a good number of FFN links on here so apologies to people who dislike it, but a lot of great stuff is still on there so give it a chance.

Author recs

Everything by @awesomeavocadolove​​  Such hits as Another Brother (Zuko adopted by Hakoda pre-S1), and currently has a Zukka soulmate fic I’ve been meaning to start reading, as well as Unchained Melody, one of my favorite Zukka fics ever. Always quality, you can’t go wrong.

Everything by KimberlyT.  I do not kid. She’s written a variety of ATLA fic ranging from Zutara/other romance to gen, seriously emotional to cracky cabbagebending. I think my favorite is probably Mismatched (S1 Zuko adopts a baby) but honestly just go read it all.

Everything by @emletish-fish​​. She has a very fun writing style and honestly her end-of-chapter notes on why she’s made the choices she has are fun minimetas worthwhile in their own right. Some of her top fics are the Stalking Zuko series (S3 suspicious Katara to Zutara) and The Worst Prisoner (the Gaang kidnaps Zuko in S1 and can’t get rid of him). I think there’s still a good amount of her fic that can only be found on FFN so check there too.

Everything by @botherkupo​​. Especially her Undying Fire series (healer!Zuko) but also just literally everything she writes, it is all so great. Tends toward Zutara but strong gen fics as well sometimes and a lot of fun. Check it all out!

Everything by @muffinlance​​. Loves to toy with her readers’ emotions in the best of ways. Tons of fantastic gen Zuko-centric AUs, I have adored every single fic I’ve ever read by her, can’t praise them enough. Very productive as well, her tumblr is a hub for the ATLA renaissance and her fics inspire lots of others. Has also organized a fanmade ATLA coloring book for charity so get that once it’s out. In the meantime read everything she’s written.

Everything by Haicrescendo. My favorite is What We’re Given (the series where Zuko finds more air bisons and raises them), but there’s a lot of good Zukka fic too. I tend to steer away from explicit works in this fandom unless it’s a smaller part of a much longer plot-centric fic, so there are a number I haven’t read, but I really like the Pokemon!AU Zukka.

Everything by @gaycinema. I really love the EK fight club series (Zuko fights in Rumbles/etc.) but all of it is a good read. Some Jetko, mostly a lot of introspective or emotional oneshots. Which isn’t really a great depiction of how good they tend to be, you’ll just have to read them and find out. You won’t regret it, trust me.

Everything by @captainkirkk. So far eight stellar fics, starting with kind Fire Lord Zuko and ranging to Floating Tea Shop!Zuko who doesn’t want to hunt the Avatar. I love her style and have laughed out loud at multiple of these. 

Gen Zuko fic

Bringing Out the Blue by maguena1. [unfinished, long] Definitely worth the read. The first ATLA fic I ever got really sucked into. The Blue Spirit never gets knocked out so Aang doesn’t know his true identity; he joins the Gaang on a recurring basis, while Zuko attempts to tell himself this is only for information on how to catch them, they definitely aren’t his friends.

It’s Impossible by Sandra Phillips. [abandoned, long] One of the earliest Avatar!Zuko fics (sort of) and a really interesting take on some spirit stuff.

Embers by Vathara. [complete, long] A landmark fic in the fandom, and for good reason. I didn’t love everything about this fic, but it is very well-written and an absorbing read certainly worth the praise. 

the art of description by incandescens. [oneshot, short] Five descriptions of Zuko and Toph’s field trip from various perspectives. Short, sweet, and funny.

Breaking Point by Kryal. [oneshot, short] Zuko isn’t banished but instead sent to serve in the Home Guard. I love Zuko loving his people, and alternate canon explorations, and this is exactly that.

The Alternative by Lunatique. [oneshot, short] The reason Zuko is so determined is because he fears what will happen if he isn’t the next Fire Lord. An idea I support in canon, to a degree, written well.

Hands and Knees by gigerisgod. [oneshot, short] Zuko reflects on the choices he’s made, and experiences he’s had, when joining the Gaang. A nice introspective fic.

Relative Misery by peroxidepest17. [oneshot, short] Toph complains about her family and Zuko takes her on a field trip. Not a fic I take too seriously, but funny in a sad way.

Second Nature by lazyartisan. [possibly abandoned, long] An AU stemming from Zuko’s capture at the North Pole. Well-written and characterized, an old favorite that I actually find needing to reread to give you more detail, but I can promise it’s good.

Year One by peroxidepest17. [oneshot, short] Lessons Zuko learns in his first year being Fire Lord. I really like explorations of Zuko’s journey as Fire Lord and this is a lovely little window into that.

Soft by PenPistola. [oneshot, short] Zuko and Toph bonding after the Ember Island Players. Short and sweet.

The New Phoenix King by JoeMerl. [oneshot, short] Fire Lord Zuko is overthrown, and no one but him is bothered at all. In fact they help. Hilarious crack.

First Name Basis by JoeMerl. [oneshot, short] There’s some popular posts going around Tumblr lately about Zuko not knowing the Gaang’s names, but this fic did it first back in 2008. As amusing as you’d expect.

Male Bonding by glamaphonic. [oneshot, short] The original ‘Zuko and Sokka bond and are also dumb idiot boys’ fic. Katara is permanently rolling her eyes.

it’s not the waking, it’s the rising by isamagicdragon, thegracious [ongoing, series, medium] Azulon tells Ozai to kill Azula instead of Zuko, which leads to heartwrenching fire sibs adventure. I haven’t caught up on the last chapter yet but god is it fantastic and also just a really interesting and new perspective on what could have happened.

Doe-Eyed by Anonymous. [complete, medium] Zuko is a baby, Azula is a loving big sister. More fire sibs and a great exploration on Azula’s POV of turning against Ozai.

kintsugi by discordiansamba. [ongoing, series, long] Zuko doesn’t have Iroh after being banished, and winds up hired as a guard to protect the frail Beifong daughter. Fantastic preseries Zuko+Toph found family fic.

Legacies by WildInkling. [ongoing, medium] Far in the future, a historian studies the journal of Fire Lord Zuko. Also, he was secretly a famous author but no one knows. A funny and poignant outsider POV.

#UndercoverZuko series by naggeluide. [complete, series, short] A completely cracky concept written straight enough to be actually quite touching in parts, but also just really funny. Zuko goes Undercover Boss on his ship pre-series.

Avatar Ficlets by JaggedCliffs. [series, oneshots, short] An ongoing series of disconnected oneshots, mostly post-canon and mostly Zuko-centric. Some a pretty fun, one is a great view on Zuko and lightningbending, all worth the read (and follow for when more come out).

The Blind Leading the Blue by BrusselsSprout. [ongoing, medium] An epic Zuko and Toph field trip set in S2. I love them and this.

half in the shadows, half burned in flames by r_astra. [oneshot, short] Iroh dies, Zuko gets caught on the Day of Black Sun, everything ends up all right but damn does it hurt getting there.

A Tale of Earth and Fire by chiiyo86. [complete, medium] Zuko and Toph are married for Politics in a FN Wins AU, and follows them slowly bonding as friends to beginning a revolution. They’re married but it’s not romantic, just some good friendship.

Eight Principles of Yong by psocoptera. [oneshot, short] An exploration of immediate post-show FN politics (sort of), calligraphy, and Zuko. Also has some lovely non-fighting firebending; I always love when people explore other uses of bending.

Healing Properties of Cinder Sage by Dawen. [oneshot, short] Zuko gets very sick in the Western Air Temple. Some good interaction when he’s new to the Gaang, and Toph+Zuko friendship.

We Ourselves Must Walk The Path by WinterSky101. [complete, medium] The Gaang agrees to make Zuko their prisoner in the WAT. Speaking of new-to-the-Gaang, tension, this fic has plenty of it, and also features some good Toph and Zuko.

Frozen by Aris Merquoni. [oneshot, medium] Zuko is captured in the NWT. Some politics, lots of angst, and eventually, healing. Also actually makes me somewhat like Hahn? Incredibly enough.

Reluctant Hero by PAW_07. [ongoing, long] Avatar!Zuko fic. I got to beta it way back when for a little while before I got too busy, and have always been a huge fan of this fic. Great concept, one of the best executions of it I’ve seen, and also one of the first. Definitely read this.

Morality Chain by Pureauthor. [abandoned, long] Azula and Zuko were always on each other’s side; how this changes canon. I love this concept and would happily read a lot more fics with it (please guys, I need more fire sibs).

A viper-lizard’s tales series by Yumi_Take. [ongoing, long] The world needs more of Zuko adopting pets and small children, and those are just facts. This only has one of the two, but it’s a EK baby! Jet plays a big role in this fic as well, a weird kind of uncle-ish to the baby/friend/murderer Zuko needs to watch closely and hold back kind of thing.

(life happens) wherever you are by howlikeagod. [ongoing, long] Katara doesn’t find Zuko and Iroh in the teashop, and canon takes a sharp left turn. Excellent Gaang fic.

The Best Path series by EudociaCovert. [series, ongoing, long] Zuko meets Jet in ‘Zuko Alone’ and winds up getting claimed as theirs by the remaining Freedom Fighters. Really really well-written, I got quite emotional over some scenes.

Shippy Zuko fic

Balm by Thyme In Her Eyes. [Maiko, oneshot, short] A sweet little fic about Mai’s thoughts on Zuko’s lightning scar.

The Black Games by Mrs. Pettyfer. [Zutara, complete, long] Hunger Games-esque AU. It’s the first in a series, and I lost interest after this one but I remember enjoying the fic and it was more personal preference rather than a drop in quality that had me leaving.

Lie To Me by Inkcharm. [Toko, oneshot, short] I’m not actually a fan of this pairing romatically (at least until years down the line), but this little fic of Toph and Zuko bonding through lying to one another is sweet. I choose to ignore the more shippy parts and enjoyed it.

Zutara? What the heck is that? by Ryxl. [Zutara, oneshot, short] Complete crack, have a good sense of humor and I think you will enjoy. Just the mental image of the Gaang finding a Zutara propaganda flyer had me chuckling.

The Three Chores series (1, 2, 3) by Fandomme. [Zutara, threeshot, short] Zuko and Katara slowly bond as he helps with chores. I will admit it’s been years and I barely remember this, but what I do recall is lovely and I always appreciate people lightening Katara’s load.

read the inscription by suzukiblu. [Zuko/Song, complete, series, medium] When Zuko is banished, he is left alone in the Earth Kingdom to fend for himself. Very touching, and I love Song in this.

Hooked by TGP. [Jetko, complete, long] A classic ‘Jet didn’t see Iroh warming his tea’ fic. They’re almost all this premise but so many well-written and very long ones. 

Something To Hold Onto by Wildgoosery. [Jetko, complete, long] The EK fell and Li stayed to fight with the Freedom Fighters to protect the city during its foreign rule. Jet didn’t see the tea fic that goes very AU from canon.

Foxfire by Rahar_Moonfire. [Jetko, ongoing, long] Zuko loses his memories Jetko fic, but with heavy spirit influence and lovable EK OCs, both of which I adore and should be in far more fics.

Once Upon A Teashop by anaer. [Zukka, Jetko, ongoing, long] Cracky Ba Sing Se AU that gets gradually more and more serious. Jet hits on Zuko a lot and Sokka gets a job in the teashop to keep an eye on both of them. Endgame Zukka but heavy Jetko, and both pairings are handled pretty well, not a love triangle that makes me too mad, although as always bear in mind Jet’s messed up. 

Names by TGP. [Jetko, complete, long] I feel like I’m forgetting some more excellent Amnesia!Zuko fics, but this is one I do know of. To be honest I don’t remember it super well because it may be mixed up with other Jetko/amnesia fics in my mind, but I think it was really good. I’ll have to reread myself.

Epistles by Lady_of_the_Flowers. [Zukka, ongoing, long] I love epistolary fic and I love Zuko and Sokka bonding earlier in canon. I will be honest I haven’t read this in a long time and been updating all the while, but the premise alone (Zuko and Sokka become messenger-hawk-pals in S1 and then fall in love) is fantastic. 

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought. [Zukka, ongoing, long] Zuko rebels earlier and actually is sent to the mines, until he is ‘rescued’ by the Water Tribe. Dark but getting lighter over time, and more reluctant-to-rule Zuko which always wrenches my heartstrings. I prefer super loyal and dutiful to his people Zuko but this trope always makes me feel things.

Crossovers

Fallen Drops of Fire by Chasmfiend. [Fullmetal Alchemist, ongoing] Young Azula and Zuko somehow appear in Amestris, and encounter Roy Mustang. I adore the fire sibs, and their relationship in this strange situation is the star of this fic for me, but it’s also fun seeing the FMA perspective of these two.

The Dragon-King’s Temple by Kryal. [Stargate SG-1, long, complete] The best crossover fic out there. Zuko and Toph get stranded on the other side of a Stargate. I don’t know anything about SG-1 but it didn’t matter, the fic was fantastic, they were badasses, it explored language and culture from an outside perspective, and it was just a ton of fun. Must-read.

Other character fic

Loyalty by Julia451. [oneshot, short] The ship captain didn’t misspeak when he called Iroh and Zuko “prisoners” in the start of S2. A lovely look at a nameless character, giving depth to a small moment and humanity to a FN soldier which I always love.

The Only One by HarlowR. [oneshot, short] An excellent exploration of Azula’s mindset regarding Zuko, her desperate need to be loved and jealousy of him matching his own. I think Azula was one of the greatest tragedies of the show, and this fic makes me feel it.

Blood by theAsh0. [oneshot, short] Katara-centric thinkpiece on bloodbending and healing. Dark but really interesting.

Touch and Go by Cadence. [oneshot, short] After Iroh’s struck by lightning, Toph doesn’t let Zuko drive them all away. A momentary alliance and the seeds of friendship. More Toph-focused but still heavy on the whole Gaang.

Shortcomings by Menamebephil. [oneshot, short] Iroh thoughts during his imprisonment, on the theme of mistakes. I love this man and don’t understand why I am so drawn to fic about him that makes me sad.

Watch And Review, Please by Becca Stareyes. [oneshot, short] The Ember Island Players receive some constructive criticism... sort of. Funny and quick.

Azula Redemption Trilogy (1, 2, 3) by Mistress of Sarcasm. [threeshot, short] Second person and deeply introspective, three short little fics delving into Azula’s head and bringing her closer to redemption.

Echoing Refrains by catie_writes_things. [oneshot, short] I really like nuanced explorations of the whole FN royal family. It’s perfectly fine to write Ozai as pure evil bastard, but exploring  what might have been or how he got there, or even as in this fic his talent for music being inherited by Zuko is really interesting too. Iroh-centric.

our curse by ohmygodwhy, and the last dragon by thesometimeswarrior. [twoshot, complete, short] Stay away if you don’t like to cry. In the first Zuko learns Ozai is executing Iroh, and isn’t able to stop it; the second is even worse because it’s Iroh’s POV. I put this in the other characters section because honestly I adore the second fic even more than the first, but they are both fantastically written and will hurt you a very great deal.

Finally, I’m not quite bold enough to put my own fic on a reclist, but just shameless enough to mention I’ve written a few Avatar fics I quite like if anyone feels the desire to check them out on my AO3. ;) But seriously give love to all the rest of these, they deserve it. (And as I said, there’s lots more excellent stuff, this fandom is so prolific and well-written!)

[imasimpforstevengrant]

I feel you

Author's note:

@raven-romanoff

@maristela1968

For you again, lovelies!

This is the first smut I write after almost two years. I hope you like it!

As always, sorry for any typos. English is not my first language.

____________________________________

Summary: Follow up to "I understand you".

As his strange relationship with Harleen oscillates between friendship and desire, Arthur takes the things to another level.

Warnings: angst, self hatred, mentions of masturbation, swearing, house breaking, strong sexual themes and smut.

Words: 6.258

Part 1:

Part 2:

____________________________________

Arthur couldn't sleep that night. His mind, overtaken by a growing confidence, tormented with new feelings for her created a dark, devilish smile in his face. He closed the door carefully, taking off his hoodie, shirt and shoes, wearing only sweatpants around the house, smoking a cigarette. He sat on the couch, knees bouncing. Something in his chest burns. That night Arthur felt different. He felt sure of his actions, instead of the usual anxiety and fear. Replaying the wonderful moment which he was the protagonist of, savoring every detail, while directing to the table. Her voice echoed through his head, her smile painting across his memory, the way she looked at him. His feet weren't able to keep still and Arthur knew this hyperventilation was caused by the shock of his first intimate contact with a woman. He already planned what he would do once they'd meet again. Probably to take her to dinner or simply going to the playground with a coffee and cigarettes to spend the night talking.

Handing himself his treasured journal, Arthur searched for the section dedicated to her. Grabbing a pen, he wrote her name. Misspelled, but affectionately.

Harlen Quenzel.

He tried in vain to write anything else, because his mind clouded basking in a bliss he had never felt before.

The blinding white light coming from above the kitchen hindered the happy replay of the image of Harleen coming closer to him to kiss his lips. But he simply turned it off. The tips of his fingers touched the dry flesh blessed by her mouth. Lighting a cigarette he fantasizes now. Taking her in the floor, in the bedroom or in the couch... She would love it. Arthur guaranteed himself that. The proof was clear: she had enjoyed his sudden and explosive display of passion. He suppressed a chuckle, afraid of another fit of laughter. But it did not go further. He stood in the dark for a while, before going to the couch to try to get some sleep. His mind was way too excited to even hold his legs still. The lucky loner grabbed the pack of cigarettes, smoking another one immediately after finishing the other one. Thing was, he couldn't consummate his passion in this moment... But he certainly could let his mind fly by thinking about Harleen and her virtues for now. Arthur headed to the bathroom.

A little joy given by himself wouldn't be so bad. ________________________________________

Over the next two months, the strange relationship between Arthur and Harleen grew from a friendship that had frequent outbursts of passion to long hours of talking about anything, from work to jokes.

As much as Arthur felt a silently uncontrollable lust for Harleen, he truly felt affection and caring for her. This was shown in small gestures like inviting her to dinner or waiting up late when her shift was over whenever neither of them would spend the entire night sleeping. They had each other and it was okay with that. In was in these situations where their bond grew. It was so ironic that the one thing that prevented an actual rest to his tormented mind also allowed to have the closest and most meaningful relationship he ever had in his life.

Arthur became more introverted than he already was. He didn't talk too much at work and had the growing tendency to isolate from others. To his co-workers this was probably another demonstration of his deteriorated mental state but Arthur was too busy trying to cope with these new feelings. He was asked more than once about this but he avoided to answer, limiting to reply he was okay. At the end of the day, the party clown left with a anxious pace. His co-workers were sure Arthur had finally lost his mind. And in some way, he did. Why was he in a rush? They would never know.

It was saturday when things changed. Arthur came back from a gig to Haha's with his clown make up on. Once in, he cleaned it from his face to leave without saying anything afterwards, too withdrawn into his daydreaming. He set a foot into the bus, as always, facing the window. The lights of daylight disappeared into the darkness or the night, rain pouring out. Arthur shielded from the cold sinking into his partly tattered hoodie. By this hour, Harleen should have been in her workplace. He just hoped no one would harm her at the time of her return. Arthur thought he could wait for her at the building's entrance, making sure she was safe. Harleen would like it.

He thought this weekend would be different. And Arthur had a very good reason why.

_________________________________________

It was Sunday when Arthur got up early to clean the house and to prepare breakfast for Penny to feed during the first lights of day.

It was in this way he could focus completely on his upcoming date at night. As the day vanished for nighttime to arrive, he put a cheap cologne on, his pants perfectly ironed. Same with the shirt and red vest. And the usual yellow hoodie Harleen learned to love so much. His excitement reflected in his voice as he waved goodbye to his always distracted mother, who simply waved back, not interested on how much brighter Arthur's eyes were in that moment. Heading to the door, he heard a frustrating ask:

"Happy, can you put this letter in the box?"

His shoulders lose strength. Arthur tried his best to hide his annoyance.

"It's for Thomas Wayne".

"I know, mom", the whisper was almost inaudible. Returning to the living room, he took the letter gently just to jump back to the door to free himself, "I'll be back at night".

She just nodded. And he finally breathed his freedom, feeling more confident than ever. But his sense of victory over the world vanished as he realized he still had that fucking letter in hand. A tired sigh leaves his lips. But he ran as fast as possible to reach the first floor to get rid of the piece of useless attempt to get attention from a man who maybe didn't remember her. The rusty locker received it and Arthur at last could set a foot outside the building, crossing his arms.

Harleen arrived a few seconds later. Arthur smiled, coming closer to her. Her outfit was unpretentious but neat: black pants and sneakers, a red wool sweater. Her hair was done into two colourful buns and a few strands which fell into her face. But the thing he liked the most was that blood red lipstick... And her grin made it better.

"Hello, clown man", Harleen nuzzled his nose tenderly. It was an habit he loved from her, as any other touch. He chuckled, greeting her back. Then both got out of the building, leading to the donut shop so they could have coffee and toast.

"So, how was your week?", Harleen asked as Arthur held his cup, drinking the steamy hot liquid.

"It was fine. I had a gig in a children's hospital. It turned out great because it was a charity event".

"Really?"

"Yeah. They were... Getting money for families that cannot afford to pay treatments".

Harleen nodded, warming her hands with the mug. Arthur then returned the question. Harleen told him the bar had more regulars than usual. This caught her eye, and paid very much attention to it during the weekly shift.

"What is it?".

"People are drinking their souls out" she replied, after eating her toast, "and that's not all. There was a recently fired guy that feared if Wayne is elected mayor, unemployment and riots will get worse."

Arthur lowered his head. He ate the toast to state:

"Why do so many people believe in that man, anyway?"

"He's rich, successful and an entrepreneur. Men like him have no idea how to run a city for the simple fact that entrepreneurs like him see people as numbers, not as complex sentient beings."

"How come?", Arthur fixed his collar.

"They only care for economy, Arthur. They disregard the fact that not everyone has the same chances for success they had and therefore any help for impoverished people is nothing but a "waste of money". Wayne is convinced that everyone who receives any kind of welfare doesn't want to work." Arthur remained silent for a while, processing what she just said.

"Men like him will never know what is like to be someone like you or me", Harleen concluded, finishing her coffee.

"But at least we have our jobs" Arthur commented comically.

"Yeah, as long as we get paid" and both laughed.

The shop was almost empty, which made easier to listen to the radio while talking. This gave them more topics to talk about. But then a song came out. Arthur knew it, he closed his eyes, engulfing himself in the gloomy tune of the song:

"King of all

Hear me call

Hear my name

Carnival"

Harleen did not interrupt. She understood that Arthur, as an extremely introverted person, couldn't be interrupted when exploring, talking or listening. It was pleasant to see him glad or enjoying things for once. She smiled as he mouthed the lyrics, which he knew perfectly. As the song came to an end, Harleen extended her hand, eyeing Arthur to look for his approval. As much as he enjoyed the sudden outbursts of affection, Arthur still wasn't used to publicly show it. Harleen comprehended as well and wouldn't force him to do it. She discovered it when going back from a previous date when she just held his hand. He became a blushing mess but it didn't go further, thank goodness.

Arthur noted the hand whose black and red nail polish established a hurtful contrast in comparison to her light skin. He then looked at her. He slid his own towards Harleen's. Their hands intertwined. Another little touch and he was already yearning for her. Arthur wanted to love her without words, without distance between them. Just the two of them. He wanted so much to tell her, but didn't dare to. Despite the fact he adored her, there was something he could never tell her... Yet.

There was something Arthur loathed about himself but he did his best to not to give it too much importance, choosing to focus on other things, instead. Arthur Fleck was a man and as such, he had needs. But the need wasn't the problem. Satisfying it was. He was comprehensive enough to understand that motherly affection was the closest thing he ever had to love. Devoid of any bond with anyone else, he frequently masturbated to soothe the sexual need. Usually to porn magazines whose pages he tore up to stick them in his journal. A fulfilling sexual life was a dream, far away from his reach. He could only see it but never take part in it, as it was with everything in his life. An eternal spectator, never a protagonist. Thinking of her, lusting after her... And he wasn't able to even mutter a fucking word. He cursed the emptiness roaming during all his life. Because he had nothing to offer her except desire. His inexperience was never a problem, given his surrender to embrace a life of solitude. Until now. Her arrival to his life made him remember how much of a man he was. And her kindness just fanned the fire within him.

Harleen squeezed his hand a little more, noting his unsettled nerve. Arthur sighed, out of the gloomy, bleak storm that creeped out as a dark mist in his mind. But her face shines as a small light of hope. Her eyes promised so many good things that he couldn't bring himself to believe.

"What's troubling you, Mr. Fleck?" her smile was accomplice, as if she knew what was lurking into the labyrinth of his mind, but wanting to hear it from his mouth.

"I just... I was thinking about...", Harleen encouraged him to tell her. He inhaled deeply, lighting a cigarette to cope with the newfound stress. Once again, his everlasting negative thoughts clouded the moment. The vocal cords were unresponsive. His hand broke contact with hers to hold his forehead, looking for the right words to speak. His knees bounced. Harleen leaned in, waiting.

"Artie?"

The tender pronunciation of the diminutive form of his name turned his gaze to her.

"I think I prefer to tell you... In private".

Harleen nodded. The response sounded too dark. And she knew that if Arthur talked like that, it was something serious. They left the donut shop, walking towards the subway. It was almost empty and dark. Just a few people were on it. The couple sit down, with Harleen tangling the arm around his to tilt her head on his shoulder. Arthur kept his eyes on the window, trying to figure out how the fuck he'd tell her about it.

As they reached the last stop, they left the subway station to step up the stairs and then Arthur reached a dirty, dark public restroom surrounded on the outside of a fence. Both stopped for a moment before the gnawed door. Harleen looked up to the party clown's dark features. He pronounced no words.

"Arthur?"

"There's something I need to tell you", his murmur comes shy, cast down.

"What is it?"

He stepped away from her. His hands clasp his mouth, disapproving his thoughts. He shook his head, eyes shut. Circling his own personal space, lightheaded. Harleen came closer to him.

"Is it bad?"

Arthur glared at her, guilty.

"I mean... I don't know how to tell you. I just hope you don't laugh at me".

"Why would I do that?".

Arthur half opened his eyes.

"I want...", It took a long, deep inhalation to pronounce the first part. He coughed, to clear his throat seconds later, "I need to tell you... That I really like you... And--", he silenced his words, trying to put them correctly in his mind.

"And?"

"See" he sighed, "I've..."

Harleen widened her eyes in anticipation.

"I've been thinking about you a lot... and I would be lying if I tell you I don't want something else".

"What is 'something else'?" Harleen whispered.

Arthur processed the question. And then answered:

"It's just..." He brushed the small beads of sweat on his forehead with the palm of his hand, "I love the way you touch me, Harleen" Arthur continued, "and I simply can't get enough of it".

"Because we both need it, Arthur. I love just as much as you do. That makes it so satisfying", he chuckled, humbled. Harleen expected more of him.

"That's not all", he gazed not to her. This was the one moment that could end it all or strengthen this precious bond of theirs.

"Arthur" she called him, "don't be afraid. Please tell me".

"I want to sleep with you", Arthur finally confessed, gazing at her. His eyes confirmed the statement. He blinked slowly, wanting her to see the animalistic yearn on them.

Harleen stared at him, shocked of how much he trusted her to confess something so intimate. His breathe had shortened. His green eyes glowed like emeralds, embellished even more with his pupils dilated. The blonde invited him inside the bathroom so they could keep baring their souls. Arthur inspected the place to make sure it was completely safe to stay there. Harleen locked the door once they knew it was unoccupied.

"I don't want to beg for love" Arthur said, his voice raspy, "but I don't want to lie to you. I want to know if you feel the same" Arthur spoke in a very low voice. Harleen looked at him, infatuated before this new dark vibe from him. He looked like a totally different person. Her fingers slid into his curls.

"I knew it already, Arthur."

"And why doesn't it bother you?"

"Because I can understand why you want it".

Arthur turned to her. Never in his life he felt more expecting. Harleen explained, in very simple terms, that she found his attachment understandable: Arthur had been deprived of love during all his life and this new bond made him feel important. From becoming visible and cared for to reaffirm his manhood through sexual desire. Arthur heard every word carefully, and it made sense. Everything made fucking sense. It was through sexual intercourse that men felt loved.

Love.

It was always about love, at the end of all.

Harleen returned the cigarette to him.

"Don't blame yourself. You're a human, after all. Sex is the most pleasant of human activities, so don't feel bad for enjoying it".

"It's not that I don't enjoy it. I don't feel ready to do it, despite of how much I want it".

Harleen frowned, and her silence just made Arthur confess one of his most (if not the most) shameful secrets. Only now she knew the extent of her impact in his life. She knew a lot about him, including the seven medications he was in, but this? She had been aware of the way he looked at her, but hearing him actually admitting it out loud made her shudder. Her arms locked around his shoulders to pull Arthur to a kiss in the cheek.

"It's not a race or a competition. You just feel and act according to your instincts. Also, I'd be lying too if I said I don't want anything else" Arthur sank his eyes into Harleen's, "quite frankly, we were close to have sex the night we first talked if it wasn't because I was too tired to do so, but now, if you don't feel ready to do it, I won't pressure you to do anything".

"Starting a friendship in that way? I like it" he hummed, mischievous.

"We are not friends... Because... Friends are not supposed to touch each other. That's what lovers do. But... We aren't lovers, yet" Harleen whispered.

"Then what are we?" Arthur asked.

"We are, Arthur. We simply are" this time her kiss directed to his mouth. _________________________________________

Arthur changed his damp clothes to avoid the cold. The bedroom TV was turned on as well as the hall lights. The usual. He prepared the dinner for his mother, bathing her and making sure she'd go to bed. The conversation was the same. Thomas fucking Wayne and the fucking letters. Arthur had no interest on losing energy on nonsense, so he only nodded. He took a shower and shaved the growing beard and wore his grey sweatpants. A few observations written in the pages of the journal about his day at Haha's and Arthur felt his routine was finished, therefore he could count down to the moment when Harleen was back at home from work. His eyes darted at the clock. 1:14 am. Less than two hours for her return. He felt confident enough to go to her apartment and stay all night with her. He smoke five cigarettes in the meantime, walking over the house. Turning the TV on so time wouldn't pass so long. He sat at the couch, waiting for an old rerun of Murray Franklin's Show. An actor was to be interviewed but he couldn't focus entirely on it. He laid down. His mind pictured her beside him. However, as much as he cherished all the physical and emotional affection from her, it wasn't enough anymore. It was hard to accept it but that's just the way it was. As the show ended, an old movie ran. Arthur turned the device off. The clock sets the time: 2:24 am. Less than hour. He got up, turning the lights off, hoodie in hand and determination in his mind. Locking the door, Arthur left. He walked across the halls, stepping down to the destination: 7H. The door was unlocked, much to his surprise. The loner felt truly in home. If only she was in there for him to shower her in his affection. But he then realized the neon lights were on. His heart skipped a beat. The air seemed... Different. He stood as quiet as possible to see what was going on. The rain slightly broke the total silence that ruled the place. Arthur reached the living and then, only then, he saw her.

Harleen was placidly sleeping on the couch, wearing a two part, peach coloured pajamas. Her mane was a mess of white, blue and pink strands that fell over her face. Her head rested on a pillow and her pose revealed how comfy her sleep was. Kneeling beside the couch, Arthur leaned over her face, his fingers set aside the colourful mane to obtain the beautiful vision of her peaceful facial expression. His thumb glided over her lips, which he soon joined with his. It was slow, intimate kiss, full of subtle hunger.

Seconds later, her hands cupped his face to make the caress steadier, humming playfully. Arthur broke the kiss to eye her. Half sleep, Harleen smiled at him.

"Hey" he called, secretive.

"Good night, Mr. Fleck", she muttered, voice pasty, "another insomnia night?" but he shook the head.

"I thought you weren't here. I couldn't help it", he muttered.

“Never said I mind. Bar closed earlier and here I am”.

“Really? Why?”

“The riots, Arthur. Boss preferred to send us home before any damage could be done by the protesters”.

Arthur made room for himself in the cozy, fluffy long couch. Asking if she was okay, Harleen just replied she took a taxi to make home safely. Arthur sighed, relieved. The blonde smiled at him but didn’t move any further. He noticed that, blaming for being so inconsiderate. Getting into her apartment and disturbing her rest like that? What a awful friend (lover) he was! Recoiling with guilt and diving again in the brooding mood so typical on him, he distanced from his love. She fell asleep once more. Arthur kept his gaze on her, tracing invisible touches in her curves. She was so close yet so far. He wanted to be a part of her, to be with her.

Inside of her.

The calloused fingers held his face to wash away the shame. The nerves were too much to take. The laugh gestated in a noise initially deaf to hear from afar to a thunderous fit. Harleen jolted at the sudden outburst. Arthur couldn’t feel worse. The expression on his face was so desperate for silence that the blonde immediately went after him when he shrugged, attempting in vain to drown the horrible noise that made his vocal cords bleed. Harleen dissuaded Arthur of any idea of escape just to hold him. The mentally ill loner sank his face into her neck. The embrace didn’t stop the scandalous explosion to keep shattering the quietness of the place, sensing Harleen squeezed his faint figure, seemingly trying to put every piece of his broken yet beautiful soul to help to soothe the pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—“

Her voice hushed his apologize. As the din disappeared into nothingness, both returned to the living room on the couch but Arthur took a step back from her.

“Why?”

Puzzled, Harleen frowns. She gave him space to recover.

“Why what?”

“Why me?”, Arthur regained strength to ask her, staring at her for a long period of time, “of all men you can have, why me?”

For the first time, Harleen seemed upset.

“If you think I do this out of pity, you are very, very wrong” the fire in her eyes was fascinating.

“Then why?”

Harleen processed the question while Arthur desperately awaited the reason to be verbalised.

“Please”.

She gulped.

“Because you’re a good man, Arthur”.

The response was too simple to be believable, though it was grateful to hear a compliment from her. Desiring more, his stare pierced her soul, to let her take the hint. Imprisoned under the green spell of his, Harleen proceeded to continue:

“I mean- you are always trying to make people laugh, yet people don’t see you and you still continue. You love what you do, you have been kind to me, you care about your mother putting your well-being aside. Don’t you think that is worth enough?”

Arthur shut his eyes, his head to the left, lighting a cigarette while the bouncing knee betrayed his feeling of unsettlement. Harleen noticed it. Wind took words away. Actions prevailed in time.

Time! That’s precisely what he needed. Both battled uneasiness in their own, unique way. While Harleen on her own end of the couch thought on a way to help him, Arthur tried to give order to his convulsed mind. He constantly touched his forehead and chest but never dared to eye her, terrified that she would vanish. The damn cigarette placed again on his lips. The muteness grew so uncomfortable the loner returned to glare at the blonde. She slowly approached to him, searching in his face his approval to get closer. Afraid to disturb his personal space in the same way someone would be cautious when getting closer to a wild animal. Arthur gasped, his blood boiling in what seemed the exact moment that would define his life. Harleen crawled to him, reaching his shoulders to concrete her goal: sit in the space between his legs.

If Arthur believed that just a hug put him on fire, this new contact aroused him to the point of insanity. The blonde crowned the physical bond placing her head in the crook of his neck. The temptation to take her and possess her now was insufferable but he found the will to not give in into the impulsive reaction. How? He’d never know. His heart rate was so violent, so overwhelming that the threat of a heart attack was becoming more real. Harleen placed her hand on his chest, like caressing his damaged heart like a mother would do with an scared child. His lungs finally caught a calmer rhythm as minutes went by. Arthur craved new touches, new discoveries, yet he wanted to remain like this forever. He savoured the closeness of their bodies… but it wasn’t enough. Harleen surely knew it by the moment Arthur stopped smoking.

And whenever Arthur Fleck stopped smoking, it meant something serious got his attention.

As the last fire on the cigarette died on the ashtray, Arthur turned his focus completely on her. He’d return her the favour, since she invaded his personal space so shamelessly. Harleen distanced a bit from him to allow the hoodie to come off. She approved the sight with a wide smirk: despite what people could say about his figure, Arthur was not as thin as his outfit revealed. His bare upper body had a plenty of muscle in the biceps. She traced a finger across the aforementioned part to touch his jawline now, going down his neck and collarbone. Next, a nuzzle against his face to continue the intimate bond, brushing her lips with his, without kissing him. However there was no further reaction from him except for a serene look on his face at the caresses. As the touch came to an end, she kissed his mouth repeatedly, her lips curved into a smile. The gesture motivated his instinct to get the better of him. He rose his dark, thick eyebrow to let her know how much of an accomplice he turned out to be, like a warning of what he had planned for her.

It was almost a ritual. Whenever a situation turned out to be too unfamiliar or too good, his hands would act as the link to confirm his psyche wasn't playing tricks with him. But this wasn't only a situation. This was a person who unchained a situation. And how he thanked every second of it. It seemed a spark of happiness enlightened his life, for once. Probably because even fate believed that no human being should be so miserable. He needed a constant reaction from her to keep convincing himself this wasn’t a dream. To increase the enjoyment of his hands touching her, Arthur executed a move directed to her chest, gliding his hands over her breasts, covered by the thin fabric of the sleeveless shirt. Harleen gasped, eyeing the curious hands as they roamed upon that delicate part of her. Arthur was fascinated, as his grin evidently brought out.

Since he had understanding about sex, Arthur craved a woman’s touch. It began as wet dreams, continuing with the subsequent discover of porn, a source he always went to in order to provide himself a little satisfaction. He remembered the particularly unhappy time of highschool, where bullying and harsh looks were a routine. The laughing fits during class, boys from all ages mocking at him during recess. But lunchtime was the worst part. If he wasn’t beaten up, his food paid the price. Starving and tired, Arthur was relieved in part by dropping school. He wouldn’t have to deal with the brutality of his classmates anymore. Girls usually avoided him, scared by his weak appearance. He never asked a girl for a date, afraid to be taken as a pervert. He just repressed any sexual need, feeling like a depraved creep for being curious about female body.

The mental drift continued for a couple of minutes when he noticed that Harleen wasn’t too quiet now, her shortened breath revealing an intense joy at his touch. As it happened always in a moment of adrenaline, through his arms an herculean strength ran so intensely that made her sit on his lap with no problem. The most exciting part of this new bold position was that he could face his lover, aiming his interest to her neck, covering it with slow, paused kisses. Harleen supports on his shoulders, delighted at his intimate exploration. Her shortened breath became a heavy panting while the latter morphed into a loud moan. Arthur immediately looked up to the blonde, her mane tickling his face. Did he caused such wonderful reaction? Him? Arthur Fleck, the perpetual loser, the unfunny clown, the embodiment of what a man should never be?

Suddenly, the grip loosened. Arthur felt he couldn’t concentrate anymore on Harleen in the same way. A sensation similar to fainting snatched away the energy on his arms. A surge of boiling blood flowed down his groin.

Arthur knew what this meant and her thighs straddling his hips, exactly where his searing intimacy reacted to such delectable recreation.

This encouraged him to let his wildest side come out. The pale hands lifted the shirt to the level of her neck, obtaining her bare chest to devour while getting into the inner part of the shirt, leaving the barrier between skin and fabric behind his back. Harleen reared up before the fulminant demonstration of lust, screaming while clawing at his shoulders. She felt his mouth, eager and famished, assiduously paying dedication to her soft sinuosities. The position enabled her to coddle him as well.

Because he fucking deserved it.

Her fingers stirred the dark curls under the cloth, begging for more. When Arthur felt the arousal was too much to keep building it up to simple caresses, he threw the shirt aside to obtain her upper nude body to admire. His eyes widened as the glimpse was even more beautiful in reality than in his fantasies. He hummed, approving the sight, too anxious to take her and yet so insecure if she’d be satisfied.

The blonde tugged into his belt, making clear her desire to pursue a deeper insight of their relationship. Her body performed a subtle movement to make him lay down on his back. As Arthur got rid of his clothes, so she did. Once she reached her own full nudity, he covered his mouth, amazed. Forget the models in his journal. Harleen had no comparison. And she probably knew it.

“Do you like what you see, mister Fleck?” she purred, seductive. He panted, regaining the oxygen to answer.

“Yes” was all he answered. Arthur could hardly speak at this point. His eyes said everything, anyway. The tease was a gift before the beloved blonde climbed atop him. Arthur helped her, grabbing her by the hips he longed so much to trace his fingers on.

Harleen leaned over his face to grant it a last kiss, enjoying this final step preceding to the loss of individuality.

She seemed so unreal, even when her full weight upon him proved wrong. And he knew exactly what to do to prove his psyche otherwise.

The last trace of doubt disappeared completely as his own sex found itself inside of her at last. The insertion was very slow, no rushes, so both lovers could memorize every sensation. The pressure around his hardened length turned out to be a pleasure beyond the thinkable, causing a shuddering, fastened breath to crumple his lungs. He arched his back, a loud, pleasurable moan escaping his mouth. As he got used to the warm welcome she gave him, his hands held her hips to proceed. Harleen lolled her head back, moaning softly, rejoicing at his presence inside of her delicate womanhood. Stillness held their bodies together as they enjoyed the sensation brought by the union.

Arthur recovered from the initial shock before the long desired loss of his hated celibacy started to take place. Harleen, naked much to the delight of his eyes, had her white, porcelain skin beautifully shaded by the pink and blue dim neon lights. Arthur smirked at her, admiring her body with his hands, not to convince himself that he was not hallucinating but to make sure to tell her how much he had desired to do this.

Just then Harleen did her magic.

“Let me show you that you’re not invisible”.

The rhythm worked in a slow pace. The blonde’s masterful moves made him moan and groan loudly as she straddled his hips. Everything he imagined with her appalled in comparison to this. Harleen, so provocative and prodigious, was so delicate in this erotic surrender. Like almost floating in the air. Arthur wondered how much it could take until reaching the peak of the carnal pleasure. But the obnoxious thud that beat his brain even in this moment found itself defeated by this lovely and pleasurable novelty, eventually. Watching Harleen on top of him was an irresistible landscape and Arthur couldn’t be more grateful for it even if he tried.

And her moans didn’t help either. Harleen was too lost in the moment to even talk to him, restricting her vocal expressions of pleasure just to plead for more.

Arthur plunged in this novelty to feel like a man for the first time in his life. He chuckled, joyful. His concentration centered exclusively on her. Harleen was a living mess of ecstasy, away from reality. He couldn’t love her more, specially when she called his name. The grip on her hips became tighter, as the warm space that surrounded his arousal narrowed. Her moans arose to louder screams. Now that was something he wanted to hear, sliding his fingers up to her waist to her chest.

The sense of control began to disappear eventually.

The instigation inspired a new move from Arthur, who got up to enclose her waist to absorb her essence. Fastening the moves, the blonde threw her arms to his neck, increasing the union as much as they were able. Their screams echoed through the apartment, announcing the proximity of the climax.

The final frenzy took ahold of the lovers. It hit Harleen first, as the convulsion whipped her insides, her figure trembling.

Arthur was convinced his soul was living his body at the time of his climax. While Harleen allowed him to flood her with his seed, he held her hips to keep inside her the longest time possible. The passionate, fulfilling embrace that served as the conclusion to the act recomposed their sense of reality. Once the physical bond was broken, the lovers laid back in the couch. Arthur still had a hard time recovering from his first sexual experience. His lungs finally eased down as Harleen reassuringly talked to him. Arthur opened his eyes, to smile to her.

“That…” he stuttered, breathless, “that… was… fucking sensational”.

Harleen supported her head in her hand.

“Couldn’t agree more”.

Arthur smiled and didn’t resist the temptation to sink into her arms, awaiting for sleep to come. He gave himself in completely, handing his vulnerability to her. Harleen sighed, palming his back. Arthur recoiled in pain and she didn’t hesitate to apologize.

“What’s this?” Harleen was going to get up to check him out but he prevented it, shaking his head. Apparently it didn’t have too much importance for him.

“I want this” his whisper sounded legitimately grateful. He took her hands to kiss them dearly, “I want this”.

She nodded and then changed her position so Arthur could place himself upon her. Her open arms received his fragile, starving shape to grant it comfort, like remind him of how much of a man he could be. The loner muttered something, but Harleen was already sleeping. Arthur didn’t move at all, silently enjoying her chest moving up and down. He planted a kiss above her right breast and closed his eyes.

The rain intensified. And Arthur fell asleep in a state of complete inner peace for the first time in his life as the pink lights dissipated into black as his eyes slowly closed.

It was the most beautiful darkness he’d ever been in.

[blackidyll]

@qserasera​ tagged me to list out ten songs i’ve been listening to lately, so here’s my list together with too much commentary because I’m just Like That.

Departures by Joe Hisaishi (from the movie Departures)  I've already tag-yelled about Merry-Go-Round of Life so have a non-Ghibli song (PS: Departures is an excellent movie. It's about death and encoffinment, but it is very worth watching). While you're at it, just go listen to everything on Joe Hisaishi's channel. Or you could just listen to his two hour Studio Ghibli concert. 

Strawberry Swing by Coldplay According to this article, this song is one of the top 10 most relaxing songs in the world. I feel calm listening to it. Plus, it's Coldplay. And the music video is incredible. 

Wandering in the Afternoon Sunlight by Takeharu Ishimoto (FF7: Crisis Core OST)  While the world is playing Animal Crossing or looking forward to the FF7 Remake, I (who has neither a Switch or a PS4) busted out my 10-year-old PSP and started replaying Crisis Core. Imagine yourself wandering the plains exploring while you listen to this song (from the isolated room you're currently stuck in!) 

Exogenesis Symphony Part 3 Redemption by Muse  I also recommend that you watch Evgenia Medvedeva's gorgeous figure skating Short Program to this song. I wrote a lot of fics to this song last year.

Counterattack Mankind by Hiroyuki Sawano (Shingeki no Kyojin OST) I haven't kept up with this series since season 1 but this song was a rec for good music to work out to. Also it's the opening music to the No Regrets OVA (aka Levi and Erwin's first meeting) so... 

In The End by Tommee Profitt ft Fluerie & Jung Youth (Linkin Park cover) The reason I know of this cover? Purely because of the Georgian ice dance team of Maria Kazakova/Georgy Reviya, so please watch their freaking epic Free Dance. They. Are. Incredible (I am gutted they only got silver at Junior Worlds).

Into the Unknown by Idina Menzel & Panic! at the Disco (fanmade mashup)  Frozen 2's soundtrack isn't as memorable as Frozen’s but this song really grew on me the more I listened to it. And then to have Idina and Brendon's vocals in one mashup together? Godly.  

Owarihajimari (Remix) by SAWA (The World Ends With You, Live Remix)  This was the song that Squeenix put up to troll us when they did a seven day countdown back in 2012. The entire fandom freaked out because we thought it would be a sequel announcement, but it ended up being just a mobile app port............. anyway, it gave us a bunch of remixes and I love this one because it has groovy beats.

Deliver Us by Hans Zimmer (Prince of Egypt OST)  This song kept coming up on my playlist and it's stuck in my head now so... anyway the emotions this evokes feel quite apt for the state of our world right now.

Romeo and Cinderella by Hatsune Miku  I play this mobile game (Tower of Saviors) which has a lot of crossover events with Japanese anime/series, including a Vocaloid one last year. I run a Miku-led main deck and this song plays every time the team maxes out their stats in battle so I associate it with positive things (aka, like knowing that I’m gonna flatten all the bosses). 

tagging @isali3, @solowinged, @art-rmlb, @bapha, @wolf-heart1197 and whoever else wants to pick this up

[avenger-hawk]

I tried to rewrite the wiki page, and next day when I looked up in it, it just automatically return to the way it used to. I tried this again, and again. It never worked. I'm tired of this shit, I felt depression and gave up. it was my clue, Sasuke is gone... and replaced with another character who's nowhere near interesting.

That sucks, I’m sorry about that. Probablywiki pages have a moderator who decides if an edit can actually be applied or not. And the moderators on Sasuke’s wiki are clearly SS.

(antiSS, anti-ending under the cut)

This brings back sad memories. When the ending came out I was angry and shocked and I got angrier and more shocked at everything happening around it, like pro-ending fans/shippers attacking every anti discussion or fanfic, and wiki pages being edited. I felt bad every time I searched for a fic and found that ship and that kid name, and no matter how many filters I used they were still there. I never read Sasuke’s wiki page until the end, only the parts I needed for reference, so technical details about his powers mostly, for my writing. Seeing the “married” status and associating it to all that shit is horrible enough for me. And I argued with a ton of SS shippers, because I was outraged at their arguments (or lack of), but in the end I was wasting my time.

So I understand you getting depressed over this, because it’s how I felt, and how I feel whenever I’m too exposed to canon and that pairing, and not because of the pairing only or the bad writing in the ending only (they would be enough anyway) but because to me the ending represents how too often growing up is, settling for a shitty marriage and a job that makes you feel trapped, giving up to your ideals, or your ideals being taken away from you.

That’s why I try to limit my exposure to new stuff because I know it will get worse and worse for Sasuke. I liked Sasuke Shinden, because it was dark and its portrayal of Sasuke and the world around him and Konoha was like I saw them, confirming the brainwashing that explains his loyalty. I see him that way on new stuff as well, but I can’t bring myself to watch them anyway.

That’s why I try to focus on fanworks, beautiful fanarts and fanfics. That’s why I focus on (sometimes) making edits and writing fics, where I either focus on the better things about Sasuke, and his love for Itachi, or I can create AUs where he interacts with other characters I find interesting, who are not those canon put beside him. Or I can channel my anger and sadness for the ending in a way I see fit, instead of accepting that crap.

There is nothing us fans can do, because canon is like that, because new stuff is coming out all the time and it’s always worse and painful, both because it is, and because people are getting more and more interested in it and it’s frustrating. Like it’s frustrating to know that there will always be some naive idiot who believes the wiki.

The only thing we can do is be strong, keep out head high and assert our rightful opinion. don’t let pressure influence us and keep in mind what we know and believe about Sasuke, the other characters, why the ending was written like that so whenever you’ll see something depressing you’ll know the reason why it’s there, which is only money. 

We might not be able to edit wiki pages but we know they’re not an official and reliable source. They’re just fanmade, and they’re not as impressive as fics, art, essays, edits which I am pretty sure that most fans appreciate more.