#I personally do but that's neither here nor there

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Madri Lager: drunk words

Contents: cursing, just a little conversation between them to set the mood and provide a backdrop for the next fic, not proofread

No fucking way. 

There’s just no fucking way. 

“Why the hell are you here?” You hiss. 

Gojo fucking Satoru strolled into your lecture hall, smug grin on his fuck ugly face, arms folded behind his head and swinging his legs like a maniac. From the doors at the front, he immediately spotted you all the way at the back, sat by your lonesome and you could see his shit-eating grin widen. The whites of his teeth blind you almost as much as his impossibly white hair.

Then, the freak had the audacity to climb the stairs, ignoring the whispering and the pointing, and sat next to you. Well, a seat down because you refused to move your bag, even fought with him a little when he tried to lift it. 

He shrugs, slinging an arm around the back of the chair between you, fingertips way too close to your shoulder, and black sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge. “Was feeling bored so here I am.”

Counting to ten, you tried to put on a patient voice, like you’re berating a child, which you pretty much are, and you grit out, “Bored people take up hobbies. Bored people do things like puzzles and cooking and knitting. Bored people don’t crash lectures and bother other people.”

“I love when you lecture me on common knowledge, wifey. It really warms my heart.” To emphasise his stupid point, he presses a hand to his chest and fans his face with the other. “You’re just so smart.”

You slap his hand away when he tries to boop your nose. People are staring, turning their heads like owls as they strained to listen to your conversations. Some people are taking pictures, no doubt sending it to The Bulletin or whatever, because people have nothing better to do than gossip. You hate this attention; the pointing and whispering because of your appearance you’ve learnt to tolerate, but this? 

This is just irritating on a different level.

At least once a day, a cheerful stranger comes up to you and asks in bewilderment if you’re Gojo’s fiancee. In fact, they ask if you’re really, actually the future wife of Gojo Satoru like he’s some mythical being and you’re a frumpy little worm. Fuck them. And fuck him. 

“Go away, Gojo,” you roll your eyes, typing as much of the lecturer’s notes as you can, a little distracted by the peering eyes around you and the ones running over your clothes . 

He sighs and lifts the lace from your dress, rounding the neckline. You feel it tickle your neck, and you fight the urge to shudder. In disgust. With a forced melodramatic tone, he complains, “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Are you fucking twelve? Go watch a movie like a normal person.”

“Movies are boring,” he retorts as if it’s fact. 

You roll your eyes. “And what? I’m so much more interesting?” 

What a stupid question. You really shouldn’t have asked that because the serious expression on his face as he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug makes you blush. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Did you meet Suguru on the course or was he your piercer first?”

Still typing, you throw him a side glance, feeling suspicious of the sudden change in conversation. But it’s welcomed. “We met on the course. First year. We were in the same class. He’s a good guy.”

Gojo huffs as if he didn’t like your answer. 

The piercer’s actually a decent person; he was friendly, smart, and kind. He made long, boring classes feel shorter with his interesting insights and opinions, and he had such a great way of expressing them — he was the most eloquent male you’ve ever met. However, there was always something off about him, like an inner turmoil that neither you nor he could ever quite understand. 

It was when he absentmindedly said he was thinking of dropping out that you felt you knew him a little better. You both shared a long talk at the back of the Life Sciences building where your little stroll took you, him smoking and you listening to his mutterings. He spoke of this feeling of being out of place, which you understood better than anyone else, and how the traditional path didn’t suit him. He disappeared for a while, a couple months, and you thought your response might have spooked him. After all, no one ever really comes to you for advice. But when he reached out to offer you a free piercing as his first ever client at his newly opened studio, you realised maybe you are capable of dropping an odd pearl here and there. 

“Well, Suguru’s my bestie, so back off,” Gojo pouts.

From your peripheral, you see him eye the big lecture hall and you don’t really know what he’s thinking. It’s an odd realisation to think that Geto, the guy you’ve always kind of admired, is actually friends with this loser – the suggestion that there’s a redeeming quality to the frat guy is one that doesn’t suit you. 

Most times he’s easy to read; he wants fun and excitement and thrill. He does whatever’s convenient or interesting, a totally impulsive guy. But there are rare moments, emphasis on rare, where you think there might be something more going on in that huge head of his. Maybe there’s something deeper to him. A maturity and wisdom he’s yet to show. 

“Fuck, marry or kill,” he lifts three fingers, “Marx, Satre or Aristotle.”

Yeah, unlikely. 

“Gojo, seriously, go away,” you sigh, exasperated. Just five minutes with the guy and you’re already drained. And somehow, you’re expected to live a lifetime with the weirdo?

Satan strike you down. 

“Me personally, Satre’s cute but something about big, bushy beards really gets me going. So, it’ll have to be: kill Aristotle, no offence dude, fuck Satre, and marry Marx.”

Two girls in the row in front of you giggle. Your lips turn down in repulsion. 

“I’m not sure Marx would like either of us, Gojo,” you give him a pointed look. 

He laughs. It’s loud and sudden and he has to say sorry to the entire lecture when it echoes around the hall. Some people laugh at him, or with him, and the lecturer can only shake his head and carry on. This lecturer is strict and merciless when it comes to interruptions, but of course he doesn’t say a thing against the interloper. How could he when there’s a huge placard over the double doors of this building titled ‘From the Loving Hearts of The Gojo Charitable Foundation’?

A couple minutes pass in relative silence, just the tapping of fingers against keyboards and the droning of the professor filling the space, and you think maybe he’s fallen asleep or maybe he’s so bored that he’s actually thinking of leaving. 

Of course, neither of those things happen because the universe hates you. 

Gojo pokes your side with a pen. You writhe with a blush. 

“Oh, ticklish, are we? Very interesting.” He wiggles his brows like an idiot, and you fight the urge to land a punch there. “Our wedding night’s gonna be fun.”

“We’re not going to have one if you had it your way, remember?”

Leaning back in his seat, he taps the pen —where the hell did even get that? He wasn’t carrying a bag— against his chin, considering his words carefully. He shrugs again. “Well, seeing as everyone’s so set on it, I’ve decided to, you could say, open myself to the idea.”

You try to quell the spark of hope there, that maybe your family could be saved, that you’ll be saved. It’s not wise to let that spark fester into something more. 

Gojo’s impulsive. Fact. 

Gojo’s a thrill-seeker. Fact. 

Gojo is an unserious guy set in his bachelor ways. He cannot be relied upon. He cannot be trusted to keep his word.

All facts. 

It’s easy for him to be able to have the option to be ‘open’ to an idea, whereas it’s thrusted upon you without much say. He can wake up and make decisions solely based on his urges, but you have to be mindful of the family’s reputation, your father’s bad habits, your mother’s social conservative ways, and the fact that this is all your fault. 

“Gojo,” you turn, fixing him with a solemn expression, “don’t do that. Don’t lead me on. I may not want to marry you, but I do want to marry. I must. It’s important to me, so please don’t wave it around like it’s some pretty flag.”

There must be something in your eyes, a graveness or a sombre quality that makes his smile disappear. His brows furrow like he’s trying to understand, trying to piece things together but you’re turning away before he could see. 

Clearing his throat, he pokes you again. “Alright. How about this?”

You throw him a doubtful look, worried about what dumbassery is going to leave his mouth. 

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

“Hey! You said that way too quickly.”

Resuming your typing, you’re already trying to drown him out, focused on the history of pragmatic ethics instead of his humoured tone. He’s suggesting something ridiculous again. As if you’d go on a date with him. Him. The guy who’s been getting in the way, the one who’s been making your life difficult and family dinners awkward, and the one you certainly cannot trust to not set up some trap to humiliate you like in the movies. 

“I’m being serious. Let’s go on a date.” Seeing you open your mouth to argue back, he hurriedly adds, “This isn’t fair on me either, y’know? I’m supposed to marry a stranger, one who wears all black and looks like she’d haunt me — not a bad thing, I’m actually kinda into it, question mark? — but my point is, we don’t really know each other. So why don’t we go on a date? It’s a pretty brilliant idea, if I do say so myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mull it over. Sure, it makes sense, it would be good to get to know the freak you’re marrying or supposed to marry. This is how it should have been in the first place. Plus, your mother would certainly approve; she’d think this is a golden opportunity to secure him, to make him fall for you or whatever Mrs. Bennet thing she’s thinking of. 

However, as good as that idea is, you can’t just eagerly agree; there’s no guarantee this isn’t a trap. 

“You’re thinking this is a trap, aren’t you?” Your eyes meet his. He’s grinning ear to ear like he’s proud he guessed correctly. “Why don’t you plan the date, then? Set the time and place, that way there’s no way I could have rigged the environment with explosives or something.”

“No pig blood?”

Gojo smiles even brighter, and you have to squint to prevent losing your vision permanently. 

“No pig blood.”

[taegularities]

colour me in: photograph (teaser) | jjk (m)

Summary: With both your and Jungkook's careers seemingly peaking, the future feels promising and bright. Yet, amidst the glowing hope, one single phone call dims the light in the rooms of your shared home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: [redacted spoiler that shall drop with the chapter], tears, sadness/grief, doubts, tender moments, talk of jk's future and his art, support, jk's dad, surprises, (talk of) a break up oop, mention of children (i guess that's a warning lol), explicit sexual content: let-out-some-steam-sex, dom!jk, big dick!jk, he's actually insane. more details shall be added on drop day; the ending.. <3 ➳ word count: around 760 for the teaser; 25-30k for the chapter ➳ a/n: get ready, it's gonna hurt for a whiiile now :') as always, come n talk to me about this 🤍 ➳ listen to: holo by leehi | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

“You do know that we’re supposed to meet up with them in like,” you drop your eyes to your wrist, pulling back the sweater to unveil your watch, “forty minutes, right?”

“And you think they’ll complain about some extra time alone?”

You deliver a blank stare, not a single blink as you watch him shrug a shoulder. He sports a smirk that you would’ve clenched your jaw to months ago, but today, even if you won’t admit it right this second, it amuses you.

He laughs when you stand there unmoving, like a stick figure silently reprimanding a lethargic boyfriend. You hate to break, but when the contagious chuckle infects you, too, you feel a light wave of relief and serotonin ripple through you violently.

Jungkook hasn’t left vacation mode just yet; while the work for the gallery is still ongoing and he diligent, you catch him slouching ever so often, doodling away at times. You’ll confess, the grey outside is tiring; different from the sunnier countryside you left behind.

There’s a sort of post-bliss blues that even you can hardly shake off.

“You can’t deny that, can you?” he utters amidst his melodious laugh, and you roll your eyes, taking two big steps towards him — much like two days ago.

“I don’t have to deny it to still teach you the importance of punctuality, right? Get up,” you say, smacking his hip — and he uses the opportunity to lift his arm from under his head, reaching for you, but… failing. “Uh-uh. Enough with your tricks. Get up.”

Last night still wasn’t enough — is it ever? You’re not surprised; neither by his thirst nor by your own inner, involuntary reactions. But no time. It’s rude to let people wait.

And you know exactly what Jimin would say — tease — if the two of you arrived at the double lunch date with him and Yoongi too late again.

Jungkook’s voice turns half into a yawn, half into a sigh, tired when he responds, “Yes, ma’am.”

This should do.

But since everything good comes in three, and just for good measure, you add another laser-glance, shooting at him in warning to lift his ass and meet you ready once you are, too. A playfully sigh breathed, you amble to the bathroom, make up awaiting on the sink from when you put it there this morning.

This shouldn’t take long; you’re opting for the minimalistic approach today.

As the hues colour your lips and fill your lashes, you hum a random melody you can’t quite identify. It’s quiet in the apartment until it isn’t — and when Jungkook’s voice chimes, your hand halts mid-mascara-stroke, assuming he’s calling for you.

He’s not; you understand this much when he greets the person on the other end in his liveliest tone at first, volume decreasing as the conversation continues. He’s soon hushed enough for you to not really make out proper words anymore. Hums here and there — Jungkook doesn’t seem to say much at all.

Perhaps it’s Yoongi, or Tae, telling a story. Narrating recent occurrences, the joys and pains that emerged and shrivelled on the vacation that you weren’t part of anymore.

You don’t ask just yet, decide not to disturb.

You finish up whatever is left of your routine, setting the make up and ruffling through your hair, adding volume. When the talk he’s indulging in still remains when you deem yourself ready, you let out a breather and step back into the bedroom.

Still in the same clothes and with the untamed hair as his crown, Jungkook’s gaze is lowered, fingers barely curled into the sheets. He’s sat up now; you see his Adam’s apple bob when you walk in. Instinctively and immediately, you blurt, “Now what did I tell you just a moment ago—”

But the jest dries in your throat and then fades, as dead as Jungkook’s eyes when he looks up at you. Or maybe… maybe they’re not dead.

More so — in disbelief. As if he hasn’t really fathomed what he’s just heard, mind sprinting in circles, attempting to understand.

His chest isn’t moving as it should, and just in general, his body emits inner trouble. Distress. When he lifts his pupils and shifts them towards you, it looks as if he’s hoping that your presence could reverse reality, as if you’re pulling him out of the inevitable quicksand.

But you can’t. You get it; see it right away.

Because the watery gaze and the gap between his lips, this expression, are new to you, no matter how many of his aches you’ve mended. And you guess it has something to do with what his conversation partner just said.

Something that certainly wasn’t part of today’s agenda at all.

the way i even had to change the banner bc it'd be such a spoiler lmaoooo but yeah anyways, what do we think? y'all's thought always help immensely, and life has been so busy that writing took a backseat – getting back into it is hard. but you guys offer so many theories as well as love and always motivate me, so come and let's talk <3

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 14 (Alternate ending)

Hey, it's me again!

So this is the happy ending. I have to admit that writing this one was way easier than the other one. I hope you will like it too :)

TW : Blood, mention of death and PTSD.

Chapter Before

As they both are talking and fighting, neither Ona nor Tony sees the shape of the person coming next to them. Panting, the silhouette takes some time to take their breath. The fight was hard, as expected. Both Lucy and Kayla come from career districts, they both learned how to fight during their childhood and were almost prepared for the Games.

“Lucy won’t let anything happen to me” Ona states confidently.

She’s sure about what she’s saying, everyone can see it in her eyes. Ona doesn’t blink when she looks at Tony, who seems almost amused by her.

“Do you think so? I don’t see her here for now” he laughs softly.

His laugh is empty, without any fun. He looks like a psychopath in Ona’s mind, but she thinks it’s maybe better not to push him further. He seems close to a mental breakdown.

His hand is shaking when he raises it, showing his sword near Ona’s throat. Ona flinches but doesn’t try to back off. She doesn’t want him to think that he has any power over her.

“I could kill you, right now. She wouldn’t be able to do anything against it.”

He seems so sure of himself, looking at her from above, his smirks talking for him. But Ona has never had so little respect for him since the beginning. The brunette doesn’t even want to fight against him, he’s here standing while she’s sitting on the ground. How can someone’s ego be like this?

“Do you really think so?”

Tony turns around to face the person who just talked and Ona jumps on her feet when she sees them. It’s Lucy. Tony just has time to turn around before being hit right in the face. He falls somewhere near Ona, making her fall back with him.

Ona groans when she hits her head on a tree root, right where she was already hurt. She tries to get away from Tony as fast as possible, but the boy is grabbing her legs for his dear life, trying to drag her to him. But he’s less strong with his arms than he was at the beginning, Ona hurt him there before, and she knows it.

She manages to kick him in the chin, making him go back. Ona goes back on all four, standing again when she thinks that she’s away enough from Tony. He’s bleeding from his mouth and Ona deduces that he might have bitten his tongue.

Just when he was going to jump on Ona, Lucy grabs him by the collar of his jacket.

“Don’t even think about it” she groans, pushing him away.

Lucy is smaller, but Ona has to say that with her anger and the hammer in her hand… She looks impressive. Her green eyes stay on Tony, even when she throws the bow and the arrows at Ona.

But Tony just sneers, arming his hand and his sword before talking again.

“I don’t have any problem to kill you before killing her”

“Aren’t you sick of hearing you?” Lucy snaps.

Ona sees Tony’s face becoming darker, clearly not liking Lucy’s comment. Ona can’t help but smile at Lucy’s comment, the sarcasm of the girl always making her smile. She takes advantage of this little moment to have a better look at her girlfriend. She has blood on her body but doesn’t really seem hurt. She has some cuts on her arms, but nothing seems really bad.

“I’m sick of you” he answers.

Lucy snorts this time, waiting for him to attack first. He’s turning his back to Ona and the younger girl wonders if she should take advantage of it, but it seems to her that Lucy wants to defeat Tony alone. She has something to deal with, beginning with the fact that Tony seems to want what is hers.

The fight starts and is maybe not really fair, Tony has a sword which is longer than Lucy’s hammer, in addition to the fact that he’s bigger and then has bigger movements. But Lucy still manages to hit him several times, using her smaller form to move faster than him.

That was until…

“Wolves!”

Ona scream is a little bit ignored by the two others to be honest, until Lucy spots the urgence in Ona’s voice when she talks again.

“Lucy! Wolves!”

Lucy turns to the direction Ona is pointing, before groaning when Tony takes advantage of it to hit her on the arm. Lucy groans in pain and almost throws her hammer on Tony’s face, helped by the rush of adrenaline.

Just like Ona, she saw the four wolves walking in their direction, in the form of a diamond. They are white and she would probably have found them beautiful if they weren’t explicitly looking for their next meal.

Ona is fully concentrated on the animals, forgetting Tony for several seconds.

Wrong move.

The boy, seeing Ona not far from him, raises his sword once again and hits her right in her stomach. The pain is so intense that Ona isn’t able to say anything. It’s Lucy who screams something that the brunette isn’t able to understand.

She feels someone grabbing her and holding her protectively against their breast, before the person starts to run. Ona doesn’t need a lot of time to recognize Lucy.

“It’s okay, you will be okay” Lucy keeps saying.

Ona doesn’t really understand what is happening when she feels herself being shaken. But she trusts Lucy and if she says that she will be okay, she knows that she will be. It’s only the sound of the canon who makes her open her eyes again.

Her vision is gloomy, but she still can see Lucy’s face right above her very clearly.

“Is he…” she whispers.

“Dead. The wolves…”

Lucy stops her sentence, but she doesn’t have to talk more for Ona to understand. She’s glad that the animals chose the one of the three who will give them the most fresh meat.

“I’m so cold” Ona whispers again.

And it looks like it’s starting to rain. She feels one or two drops of water on her face, seeming strangely hot against her cold skin. But when she looks at Lucy again, she understands. It’s not raining. Lucy is crying.

“I’m dying”

She can only whisper for now, her strength just not here anymore. Lucy shakes her head, but Ona isn’t sure if it’s because she’s answering her that she isn’t, or if Lucy just couldn’t stand the idea.

“It’s okay” Ona whispers. “We are going to be okay”

She concentrates all of her strength to raise her hand and softly strokes Lucy’s face. Lucy kisses her palm softly before pressing her forehead against Ona.

“Remember when I said I couldn’t live somewhere where you aren’t?”

“Yes” Ona breathes softly. “But you promised…”

“I never promised anything” Lucy shakes her head. “We live together, or we die together”

Ona looks at Lucy for several seconds, before nodding softly. She understands. She couldn’t live in a world where Lucy isn’t here either. It must be harder for Lucy; Lucy doesn’t have her family or any friends outside the arena.

“What do you have in mind?” Ona whispers.

“We can jump. Where Teagan…”

Lucy doesn’t finish her sentence, but Ona understands easily. After thinking for some more seconds, Ona nods again.

“I don’t know if I could walk, it’s a little far from here”

“I’ll carry you”

They can’t hear the wolves anymore, but there is no doubt that they are busy with whatever they are doing now. It doesn’t really matter anyway. Very carefully, Lucy picks Ona from the ground to carry her like a just married couple. It makes Ona smile softly, passing her arms around Lucy’s neck.

“I love you” Ona whispers, her face in Lucy’s neck.

“I love you too. So much.”

They stay silent during the walk, Lucy walking slowly. She’s exhausted to be honest and now they know how they will end. Together. They don’t need to rush anything.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucy asks after some minutes.

“My parents. My brother… Aitana, too”

“Do you think they will be together?”

“They better be together already”

Lucy chuckles before kissing softly Ona’s temple. Her mind goes to her family too, wondering what they are thinking about her right now. They probably aren’t proud of her, but she doesn’t care anymore.

Seeming to be able to read in her mind, Ona talks again.

“I’m proud of you, you know?” she whispers.

Lucy hums at first before looking at Ona. The younger one was already looking at her, her chocolate eyes so soft and full of love.

“I’m proud of you too” Lucy says back. “And I’m sure that your parents and the people you love are proud too. Alexia must be really proud too. You kind of win the Games after all.”

“No” Ona shakes her head. “You’re the real winner.”

Lucy rolls her eyes as they get out of the forest. They pass the starting point, Ona looking at the scoreboard. It’s strange to see that only their names are on it now. Lucy killed the most people between them both, but it doesn’t mean anything now. It isn’t important anymore.

“Are you in pain?”

Ona shakes her head once again at Lucy’s question. She feels good and almost safe in Lucy’s arms.

“I always feel better in your arms”

“You don’t need to try to charm me, you know? I’ve been in love with you for a long time already.”

“I’m not trying” Ona mumbles sleepily. “Just telling the truth.”

She takes advantage of being carried by Lucy to look around her, admiring the view for the first time. Before, she was too concentrated on the Games to find something beautiful. She remembers perfectly the building in the north of the arena, giving her a sweet feeling of being back home.

“Don’t fall asleep now, Love. We’re almost there.”

Lucy’s voice kind of wakes Ona up. She opens her eyes with difficulty, but looking at Lucy is enough to help her stay awake.

Lucy was right though, several minutes later, they were standing next to the cliff. Ona’s isn’t sure that it’s exactly where Seth tried to kill her, but the idea is here.

“Are you sure?” Lucy asks one last time.

“More than ever. You?”

“More than ever.”

Lucy smiles softly, looking at Ona with the most tender gaze ever. It makes Ona harder to breathe, and it has nothing to do with her bleeding wound.

“One last kiss?” Ona asks.

Lucy doesn’t even answer, she just softly puts her lips on Ona’s. She couldn’t say how many times they had kissed each other, but it’s still the same feeling. And she loves it.

“At three?” Lucy asks softly.

Ona nods and takes a deep breath. She’s tempted to have a look below, but she chooses to look at Lucy instead. She holds Lucy harder when the other girl starts to count, wanting to be against her as long as possible.

“One”

Lucy takes a few small steps, coming closer to the end of the cliff. Ona can hear the water near them, a sound that she finds almost soothing.

“Two”

Ona keeps looking at Lucy. Her green eyes, her freckles, even if Lucy has way less than her. Lucy is looking at her too, smiling softly. But, just before Lucy says “three”, a deep voice suddenly resonates in the arena.

“NO! STOP!”

********

Awakened by the sun coming right into her eyes, Lucy sits down suddenly in her bed, looking around her, a little lost. The dream she just had is one that she still makes from time to time. But it’s vivid, so real that it catches her every time.

“Ona?”

Next to her the bed is empty, no trace of someone alive there. It makes her heart beat faster and she doesn’t like this feeling.

“Ona?” Lucy calls again, harder this time.

She almost trips in the sheets of her bed when she gets up, and she arrives at the door at the same time as the door is open.

“Ona” Lucy sighs, before taking the younger girl in her arms.

Ona is here, seeming a little surprised by Lucy’s neediness at first before understanding that Lucy probably just had a nightmare. It happens to her too from time to time. Ona passes her arms around Lucy’s, stroking her back with her fingertips.

“You’re here” Lucy mumbles with her face hidden in Ona’s neck.

“I am here” Ona answer softly

They stay like this for a moment, Ona not wanting to break the hug. She feels that Lucy needs it, and she would never refuse a hug or a kiss to Lucy.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Ona asks with empathy.

Lucy only nods, her face still in Ona's neck. Her hairs are tickling the younger one, who has trouble not to laugh about it.

“What can I do for you?”

“Cuddles”

Lucy doesn’t really leave any choice to Ona, grabbing her from the ground to put her on her shoulder until they reach the bed. Then, she throws Ona on it before crawling on the bed too and laying on Ona.

“It’s okay, Baby” Ona says softly, playing with Lucy’s hair.

But Lucy only hums, her fingers following Ona’s scare on her stomach. She still can’t believe their luck sometimes. The organisers let them alive, the two of them. It provoked a lot of trouble for those men, but the fact’s still here. Lucy and Ona are still very alive.

They live together now, in District 8. Lucy went back to her family at first, they needed an answer from the Capitol for their request to live together. They could live in the Capitol, but it was very clear from the beginning that they will go near Ona’s family.

Everything isn’t perfect, to be honest. Lucy still has nightmares, Ona still jumps when she hears a big noise and has sometimes panic attacks too. They are both scared that someone would separate them at some point. Lucy dreams sometimes to run away, but there is nowhere to go. They are way safer here, in the house they built in District 8.

“Alexia’s pregnant” Ona says softly.

“What?”

Lucy raises her head suddenly, looking at her girlfriend with surprise paint on her face. Ona smiles, cupping tenderly Lucy’s cheek.

“Alexia is pregnant. She just told me in the letter I received this morning. The baby is due to spring”

“Pregnant” Lucy whispers, like she never heard of pregnancy before. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“They don’t know. They want to keep the surprise”

Lucy hums again, looking at Ona’s stomach thoughtfully. They left the arena four years ago and Joan already had a little girl last year. Lucy knows that she told Ona that she doesn’t want a baby, when they were in the Capitol. But right now, she has to admit that she wouldn’t be against that idea. But for that they have to go to the Capitol.

“Maybe we will have one baby too, someday” Lucy says carefully.

She doesn’t miss Ona’s surprised gaze at her. But Ona’s surprise quickly changes to a soft smile, before she grabs her face with her other hand to take her higher to be able to kiss her.

Lucy kisses her back, before kissing her cheek.

“But first I want to marry you” she says against Ona’s skin.

“You know that I’m already yours. All you have to do is ask”

It was true, she was only waiting for Lucy to propose. The dark-haired woman made clear really quickly that she wanted to be the one who would propose to the other. Ona doesn’t mind at all to be honest; she knows how much it means for Lucy.

And she will do so, several months later, after having asked Ona’s father if he would give them his blessing. She will ask Ona in their garden, during one of what they now call “stargazing session”. Of course, Ona’s answer will be yes.

And when they will welcome their little miracle almost three years after the wedding, Lucy knows that her life couldn’t be more perfect.

Perfect life, with her perfect wife whose surname she took. And now their perfect little boy, almost a clone of Ona, with his perfect name.

Jordi Teagan Batlle.

Sad Ending

[impishjesters]

Quiet morning together - Jax x Reader

CW(s): suggestive talk, indirect implications towards the two of you being nude but left up to your decision, same goes for any hanky panky the night before, soft fluff A/N: I want to write so many things after these latest episodes but nothing has sparked in my mind and I'm sad... so have this random soft moment together that I've forced myself to write to try and get the creative juices flowing. (I haven't written in so long, I'm so rusty...)

Neither of you has ever been a morning person but unlike a certain someone. You can push through it and get yourself out of bed in a timely fashion.

Except today.

Today is one of those days… Jax’s arms wrapped snugly around you, barely giving you an ounce of space to yourself as his long leg is draped over yours, keeping you trapped in bed. The soft fur from his face tickled your neck as he nuzzled closer, burying his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. One of his ears flopped over your face like an eye mask.

You don’t have the energy to say anything, nor do you make any attempts to move even if your arm is falling asleep under his lithe form laying on it. This scene has happened enough times for you to know that Jax is awake and doing this on purpose to keep you in bed with him—luckily for him, you have nowhere to be today and no rush to get out of bed.

Despite the tingling in your arm that he’s lying on, you raise your hand far enough to brush your fingers over the nape of his neck. The warmth of his soft fur radiating against your fingertips, it’s something you still don’t understand but you’ve learned not to question it by this point.

A quiet purr makes its way out of Jax as you run your fingers through his fur, your fingers knowing just where to scratch to relax him. And of course, in good Jax fashion, he can’t let you get the one up on him. Jax tightens his hold around your body, pulling you impossibly close like he’s trying to fuse the two of you, and presses the weight of his body halfway onto you.

You let out a quiet grunt at his weight and tangled your fingers in the fur of his nape, giving a brief tug. “Jax…” There’s no venom to your words if anything, his name is just a sigh on your lips and Jax greedily soaks up his name from your mouth.

Jax mumbles your name in response, a soft breathy yawn leaving him right after as he affectionately nuzzles his forehead close to your ear. The leg draped over yours shifts, his calf and ankle hooking around your legs to pull them closer and tangle between his legs.

“How long do you plan on keeping us in bed, cottontail?” You can feel where Jax’s nose would be scrunched up against your skin. Despite his protests of the nickname you can’t help but feel he’s come to like it—at least from you.

The lithe rabbit man lets out a pathetic, dramatic whine right into your ear before responding. “C’mon… who cares if we waste the whole day here? Oh right,” he pauses and feigns a panicked tone. “We’ll miss work! Can’t have a cut in our paycheck, how will we ever survive?!”

Even if he can’t see it, you roll your eyes and pinch his ear. A soft yelp leaves him as he brushes your hand away from his ear and finally looks at you with his usual shit-eating grin. “Oh, right. We don’t need that here.”

His tone is soft and playful, but you can hear the underlying sadness in his voice. You reach up with your free hand and pet the fur on his face in different directions, letting you see his full, unobstructed face—shit-eating grin and all.

Jax lets out a soft hum, accompanied by a faint purr as you brush his fur in place. “Look at that, personal grooming and I didn’t even have to request it.”

His tone was smug as you finished grooming his face, your hand lingered on his cheek as a grin made its way to your lips. “You know most animals only let others that they are close to or trust a lot to groom them.” Jax goes stiff in your hold, refusing you meet your eyes. “So it’s good to know this little bunny trusts me so much to groom him.”

He lets out a soft snort and shoves his face into your chest, rubbing his face left and right as you laugh, chest rising and falling as he tries to undo all your hard work.

“Hey! Now I have to do that all over again, brat.”

You push his head away and manage to slip your arm out from under him, using both hands to keep his head still as you redo all of that hard work brushing his fur neatly.

“Oh, boo hoo.” He says sarcastically, though this time he doesn’t try to stop or impede on your mission of fixing his fur.

At some point the two of you shifted, your hands brushing through the fur of his face to working on the rest of his head and down to his neck and upper chest, taking care of any miraculous tangles that formed through the night. Jax now lies on his side, head propped up with his hand as he stares at you focusing so intently on the fur of his chest. Several dirty jokes bounced around his head but he kept his mouth shut—for once—and simply relaxed under your touch.

Your legs were still tangled with his as you moved alongside him to lay on your side, the blanket slipping down to your hips as you worked. His hand eventually found a home on your hip, keeping the blanket from slipping further but also keeping you in place close to him.

“Any lower and that’s gonna be a whole new “waking up”, toots.”

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s got that smug grin on his face and give the fur on his chest a sudden sharp tug. He hisses and reaches a hand up to pull yours from his chest and holds it. “Ouch, not so rough in the morning.”

“That’s not what you’ve said before.” You grumble softly, already tired of his shenanigans and the two of you haven’t even gotten out of bed.

Jax lets out a musical hum in response as he pulls the two of you closer and guides your head to his rest on his chest. “Touché.”

The two of you lay like that for god knows how long, simply basking in the artificial warmth of one another, your head slowly bobbing against his chest with every unnecessary breath.

[glitter-stained]

On villains with tragic backstories

Sometimes I'm like "is it really psychophobic, maybe i'm reaching, the character did say that they're not actually crazy they just like killing people" and then the narrative will hit me with "some terrible, dark horrors have happened in your past and this is why you are killing people but it's not too late to get admitted in a psych ward" and I wanna throw the comic through the window and myself with it.

The "mentally ill villain" trope isn't just saying that the villain is crazy or giving them hallucinations. If you're giving a villain a tragic backstory, and that backstory has caused them severe suffering the memory of which is still painful to the day, and the story expects you to believe that the villain's horrible behaviour is explained by the fact that this suffering broke something in them... It's worth examining if you're not just vilifying or demonizing mental illness on accident.

The issue isn't that your villain can't have a tragic backstory, or that the tragic backstory can't explain their actions: the issue is when the suffering itself is treated as a sufficient cause for the behaviour. Say a character was raised and abused by a cult that taught them killing puppies is good and then they kill puppies: not psychophobic. Say a character who used to love puppies was kidnapped and tortured by some guy just for the fun of hurting someone, no brainwashing or anything just pain, and then they get out and kill puppies because of the torture: psychophobic. There's a missing link in the reasoning here, a question of "what about this event taught/brought the person to the conclusion that it was a good idea to kill puppies or gave them a desire to?" The psychophobia is insidious, hiding in the implication that the trauma (because this is what it's really all about) is what made them kill puppies. Sometimes, people with trauma kill puppies. But killing puppies (or exploding buildings with children in it, or shooting someone in the spine, or severing heads and putting them in a duffle bag, or, or, or) is not and has never been a symptom of ASD*, PTSD, CPTSD, BPD, DID, DDD or any other trauma-induced disorder. It's a good idea to verbalise the logic, emotions, needs and desire that motivate your villain and where they stem from, to avoid falling into the trap that thinking their trauma, because of the magnitude of the empathy it's meant to generate for the character, is enough of an explanation for their behaviour. A villain being sympathetic because of their backstory doesn't mean that their actions are necessarily coherent.

On top of that, it's important to take in account other factors such as the original background of the character, their vulnerabilities, their age (super important when writing childhood/teenage trauma/young villains!), but also their ethnicity, gender etc etc. This is important for realism and accuracy, because trauma is neither a magical button that creates heroes nor sociopaths, but also because psychophobia interacts so easily with other forms of discrimination slipping through the cracks. Now that you've identified that your woc character becoming a manipulative, sociopathic "crazy ex" because of her trauma was not just a consequence of her trauma but the interaction between the trauma and personal factors, what are those implicit factors that contribute to make her manipulative, obsessed with her ex, etc.? And now that you've extracted them explicitly, like a zip file, can you examine them to see how many of these personal characteristics have to do with her being a woman of colour?

I hope it's clear that I'm not telling you what to write- I think imposing the idea that villains can't be poc, or queer, or working class, or disabled, or mentally ill, etc. is harmful, because it reduces potential representation, it's based on the assumption that I know what you're gonna write and it's gonna be fundamentally ableist, and it puts this pressure on fictional characters to be perfect icons of representation rather than actual characters with depth and personality (kinda like thinking you can't write a female character who cries because it implies women are weak). This is just to encourage you to be mindful about what you're doing when writing that tragic backstory, because it's not necessarily what we think about when we talk about mental illness, and it's important to analyse what you're writing with a measure of introspection: why am I writing this? What does this imply about the character? What's my reasoning for this character's reasoning?

I have zero issue with a mentally ill character kicking a puppy as long as the narrative isn't trying to tell me that it's a symptom of mental illness to kick puppies. But of course, perhaps the story could also be a critique of those stories about mentally ill people kicking puppies, and the satyre is flying way over my head; or perhaps there will be a secret plot-twist that happens after I stopped reading that explained why the character was kicking puppies, perhaps the book was an attempt at guiding and manipulating the reader into realising the flaws in that reasoning on their own, or perhaps it was a metaphor for something else entirely, etc, etc. I don't know. The point is, write whatever you want; but write it self-aware.

*in this context, ASD meaning Acute Stress Disorder

Two examples of comics I think do it pretty well:

> Arkham Knight Genesis: for all its flaws (i didn't really like this one), I think it does a pretty decent job of getting us to understand how Jason got where he is, that it wasn't just "tortured until evil", all the reasons for his resentment, all the brainwashing and manipulation are pretty explicit. Kind of an "easy mode" because the plot revolves around brainwashing, but solid on that front.

> Red Hood Lost Days: this one I'm more mitigated because there's this whole "pit madness/the pit made him a psychopath" thing Winick introduced to limit the damage of previous runs (and rightfully so imo, Pit Madness is a much better explanation for some of Jason's most batshit ooc runs than just trauma), but there are some pretty solid elements, especially when you know earlier comics. I'm thinking specifically about when Jason says something around the lines of "you murder people; i put down a lizard", as a direct echo to Judy's "I put down a mad dog", that's one of my favourite comic lines ever, I cheered seeing that parallel like yes, I can see the reasoning, I understand where you learned the lesson and what the thought process is and I support it.

[peppermintquartz]

Rocker's team has gone home and 60-squad is out, so there aren't many people at HQ. Rocker should have gone home too, but he is instead gloving up. Deacon waits at the heavy bag for him.

When Rocker finally gets to the bag, his face is closed off and his eyes stormy. Neither of them say anything; Deacon braces the bag and Rocker starts jabbing and punching, really laying into it.

He hits and he hits and he hits and he hits, and Deacon takes the muffled impact of the punches. Rocker keeps going, sweat pouring from his brow, and he suddenly roars and punches so hard that Deacon staggers back and the entire bag sways dangerously.

Arms hanging limply from his sides, Rocker is taking deep, heaving breaths, and the moment his gaze meets Deacon's, the older man quickly gets to Rocker and wraps his arms around him before they both sink to the floor.

Rocker is crying now, silent and gasping sobs, his entire body shaking from the emotional turmoil. He presses his face into Deacon's neck. Deacon cradles Rocker's sweaty head, fingers rubbing circles at the base of his skull, and his other hand pats him between his shoulders.

A couple of newer officers take one look at the scene when they turn the corner and raise their brows. Deacon glares at them and they immediately backtrack, choosing to detour. Then Luca comes into view, slapping a folder against his thigh. He cocks his head and points to himself and then to Rocker.

Deacon nods before whispering to Rocker, "It's Luca. It's just Luca."

Rocker's crying doesn't subside fully, but he murmurs, "Okay."

Luca joins them, squatting down behind Rocker to pet his head and help him remove the gloves. Neither Luca nor Deacon say anything when Rocker reaches around Deacon to hug him back.

It takes about ten minutes before Rocker regains enough composure to let go of Deacon. Luca helps him to his feet.

"Thanks," Rocker says thickly to them both.

"No need. It was a rough day for your team," Deacon replies. "And you got the bastards."

"If Stevens hadn't been there, I don't know what I'd have done," Rocker confesses quietly. His eyes close again and his jaw tenses. "They were so little. Barely more than babies."

Being SWAT means sometimes seeing the worst of humanity. All three of them know this fact too well, but sometimes nothing can prepare a person for the depths of depravity some people can sink to.

Luca embraces Rocker tightly. "Take a couple days off. I'll pop by with some lunch from the truck, my treat."

Rocker sniffs. "Thanks. I'll be here, actually, finishing up the paperwork." He smiles as Luca lets go. "I still want that free lunch though."

"You'll get it, pretty boy." Punching Rocker lightly on his shoulder, Luca tilts his head and studies them both. Deacon feels like Luca is looking right into his soul. Then Luca shrugs and picks up the folder he set on the boxing ring. "Deac, come on. I need some help with these."

"You sure you're okay?" Deacon asks Rocker, unable to hide his concern.

Rocker manages a small smile. "I'll be fine. Do your job, Deacon."

As they walk away, leaving Rocker to put away his gear, Luca says quietly, "Is there something there I'm not supposed to see?"

Sometimes Deacon wishes Luca is less perceptive. "I don't know what you mean."

"Deacon." Luca pauses, halfway up the stairs. He looks at Deacon and Deacon meets his scrutiny, lets his defenses fall away. Maybe there is something in his expression that tells Luca exactly what he wants to see. Luca exhales and shakes his head. "I'm telling you, Deac. It's not worth it."

"I still don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do, and I'm gonna stop talking about it." He hands his folder over to Deacon. "Help me narrow down the list of recruits."

[yanderenightmare]

Do you normally get any 'ew, you're disgusting' shit in your inbox? I just now posted my first incest fic and got one like 'i hope you don't have any siblings lalala'. Prior to that, I was like "how do these authors go untouched by antis?" but then I realised that it was a tad bit naive of me lol. I was going to respond with a taunt but decided to just delete it because it wasn't worth the effort.

Are they frequent and are they easy to ignore?

Good question! I was actually going to make a post on this, as others have asked me the same thing, so here we go!

♡ Personal experience!

I get my fair share of hate from time to time—more often when I publish things that are more taboo than other excepted things—for example, like you say, incest, as well as bestiality, wide age gap, born-sexy-yesterday readers, etc.

It's an odd thing, as haters will often accept the fact that I write rape for titillation but will take issue with these other tropes. But anyway, we can talk about the nonsensical opinions of haters all day, but it wouldn't really do us any good.

So, here's my advice.

♡ First off, accept that haters are gonna hate!

Some people won't like what you write. And that's fine. The problem is that they feel the need to tell you that—at which point, you'll just have to console yourself by telling yourself that no decent person would be rude to a total stranger whom they don't know the first thing about and, therefore, whatever they have to say warrants neither second thought nor reply.

With that being said, however...

♡ You gotta do what feels right!

Engage or don't engage, do what you need to feel at peace. Sure, you can be the so-called bigger man and ignore all the meanies, but you absolutely don't have to!

Of course, we can be cool as cucumbers and say, "Not worth the effort," but who are we kidding? This is Tumblr, and you're allowed to rant when you want in whatever manner you want!

So, if you feel you gotta bite back to maintain your sanity, then that's what you should!

However, I do believe there's a way to go about it!

♡ Never go to bed angry!

This is my personal advice, but if you ever choose to acknowledge hate or critique, do so with tact and with based and factual arguments instead of slinging heated insults in return.

This way, you walk away from the fight feeling good about what you've said and not worse off than before. In other words, don't stoop down to their level.

I actually feel in many ways that answering hate can be rather therapeutic this way, as you've succesfully turned something negative into soemthing positive!

♡ The difference between hate and critique!

Actually doesn't matter. You're not really obligated to answer either if you don't want to.

But for the sake of differentiating the two: "Ew, you're disgusting" is hateful slander, but "Incest is wrong, and you're actively condoning it by writing what you write" is a genuine critique.

And it bears repeating, you don't have to address either because you don't owe anyone anything.

People are entiteld to their opnions just as much as you're free to disagree, and ignore if you want!

But something I've found is that explaining it to those who don't understand why we write such things, and furthermore why people want to read it without being interested in such things in real life, is actually quite a rewarding thing to do!

And by that, I mean it might make your critics and haters understand and rethink their comments, but it can also help your existing fans deal with their own similar self-loathing, and lastly, it's even great for your own mental health for when you yourself doubt your own mental standing!

Personally, in regard to the example I used above, when I get hit with the "you're condoning this and that" I just play the argument that those who play violent videogames aren't condoning the killing carried out by their avatar. Naturally, when roleplaying a fictional version of ourselves, we're not actually playing as ourselves.

Some people have a very hard time understanding this for some reason.

But anyway, moving on.

♡ Final advice!

Ignore and delete any and all the dumb, off-handed comments you feel like. If and when you want, return their rudeness with a cheeky smile and a slap on their ass. Be as cordial as you can be but as sassy as you feel you must—like an aged Queen who drinks her fair share of likewise wine.

But whatever you do, don't ever make things personal!

Though that's also my personal advice. I think, by making personal attacks, you're not being factual anymore, and you'll only feel worse for it. And by personal attacks, I mean calling people ignorant, dumb, awful, etc. You can, of course, say that their chosen words were in ill taste, but going after them themselves won't make you feel better. So, I'd suggest avoiding it.

Anyway, hope this helps!

[aziraphales-library]

Hey, yall do super cool work, thank you for everything yall do <3

I was wondering if you could find any BPD Crowley fics? It isn’t have to be specifically centric, but just written with that headcanon in mind/referenced/mentioned, just about anything that mentions it 😅😅😅 Original universe if possible

tysm again for everything you do, I've been using your blog for fic recs for a WHILE now, super super useful and wonderful :]

Hello! While compiling this list I realised that a couple of these fics are yours, but I've added them for completeness and so others can enjoy them. Here are some fics in which Crowley has (or at least is implied to have) borderline personality disorder...

In This Twilight, How Dare You Speak Of Grace by cosmickaiju (T)

They can't bear to hear his pity. Can't bear the thought of Aziraphale thinking they're just like any other demon.

My World Can't Turn Without You by LvndrLemonade (M)

Crowley is convinced he's been abandoned for good, and doesn't see the point in going on. Upstairs in Heaven, Aziraphale's plans to stop the Second Coming are hastily interrupted by a sudden feeling of terrible dread.

Delicate by midnightdragons (T)

Aziraphale tries to comfort Crowley after waking him from a nightmare.

i was born sick (but i love it) by sonderrrr (T)

After he regains his breath, he falters three words. Three words that Crowley had prayed he would never have to hear again. Because it meant he was wrong. “I forgive you.” What was he being forgiven for? Initiating a kiss that was unwarranted? Not going with his Angel? Being a demon? Being unlovable? Sighing, Crowley shakes his head and starts for the door. “Don’t bother.”

The Great (not) Gatsby by luckythirt33n, LvndrLemonade (G)

Can't repeat the past? ...of course you can! Ever since being assigned to the states, Crowley has been, admittedly, lonely. He hosts grand, sinful, parties under an alter ego, so he can get Hell of his back, and simply bides his time to get back home. That changes when Aziraphale joins him in the United States, sent on a vague mission from Heaven to 'check in on things.' Though, their newfound time together isn't as simple as it should be; Crowley has gotten into some political hot-water with activity in his overwhelming free time, and the sudden appearance of a mystery man may be what can solidify a rather scandalous article that's bound to hit the front covers of every newspaper in the nation. Aziraphale and Crowley will have to balance want with need, thousands of years of pining finally bubbling to the surface. Will they be able to get their happy ending *and* keep each other safe?

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it by mr_clairdycat (T)

"That said, this angel and this demon love each other in the way someone who loves God does, that much is objective. Their love is patient and kind, it doesn't insist in its own way, it is not irritable or resentful, nor does it rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. That’s how it truly is; their love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Most importantly, however, it will never end. Does not matter whether everyone in the universe isagainst it, they will persevere till the end of their never-ending life. That considered, who could’ve known if God was truly against it in the first place, if this was a test, if this was their plan. But maybe, just maybe it is useless to ponder at such question. Cause that’s what these two are: indescribable, unimaginable, forbidden, wonderful. They are just ineffable."

- Mod D

[herecirmsims]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thank you @theplottdump for the tag! I'm tagging @southernsimmin, @sansabirdanne, @lynzishell, @nefaricussims, @raspberrywhimss and anyone else who wants to! I'm also just using story screenshots because that's easier haha.

Big Windows Era: I had a lot of fun with lighting during the medieval arc. Did it make sense? Rarely. But there were big windows and bright sunlight everywhere.

The rest below a cut. CW for blood and censored NSFW!

2. I Love Castles: this is such a basic shot of Elidyr climbing the stairs, but I really liked it lmao. Poor kid was trying to find the garderobe and instead they found a depressed vampire.

3. Beautiful Amari: getting to have @southernsimmin 's beautiful boy play the role of court mage during this arc was the coolest. I think this is my favourite photo of him though. Those eyelashes are so delicate. Plus he looks so elegant laid back like that, while Sax is just slumped on the floor behind him hahahah.

4. I Really Love Castles: big rooms, big windows... it was big. The biggest. I loved building these little movie set style locations (they were all just bland boxes on the outside!).

5. Take A Shot Every Time Sax Passes Out: Fen trying to get some kind of sense out of Sax after the portal yeeted him and Idris back into our world. I just really loved the vibes of this shot, with the focus on Saxen's hand trying to steady himself, while his face is hidden.

6. That Was The Moment He Realised, He Fucked Up: these aren't good shots, but they were very funny to me. Jasper accidentally teleporting himself outside of a skyscraper, and then teleporting in and out of increasingly low altitudes because his magic was malfunctioning lmao.

7. Rudeys: I just really liked this shot hahah. I like the shadows and the soft winter light through the windows.

8. Puppies Are Loud: Sax taking a nap - and then waking to discover that his fiance and kid-he-stole-as-a-baby-and-now-raises-as-his-own have managed to acquire a puppy during that time - was very funny to me. I was really pleased with his expression here hahah.

9. Cute Family Shot, Unless: I was soooo pleased with how this shot came out too, because it is a sweet family portrait of Sax with the people he cares about most in the world (plus puppy) and El and Fen are very happy... but the way his eyes are hidden in shadow give it a slightly darker vibe. He would do terrible things to keep them safe.

10. Sax Try Not To Ruin Christmas By Dying Challenge: I just think they're cute.

11. Creepy: I spent aaaages decorating this room full of illicitly obtained occult goods, because where else do billionaires hold their Christmas parties (my story had Christmas back in July btw). I really liked this shot of Vlad being sinister.

12. Creepy But Now Underwater: also from the Christmas party, this shot from inside the mermaid tank.

13. Boss Fight: Sax walking out to meet Vlad.

14. Fen Saves The Day: to be honest... neither the pose nor the picture turned out how I'd hoped. But I still really like this moment hahah.

15. Idris: it's just a random reaction shot but I really liked this picture of Idris calling her parents! This was before I had relight so it was purely from in game lighting. I liked the softness.

16. Burger King: again, a random scene setting shot, but I really liked how it came out.

17. Idris vs. Vlad: this whole scene contained deeply uncomfortable mind games, so saying I like this shot feels very wrong... but I felt like it got the tension across.

18. The Only Competent Person Here: I looove her focus.

19. Gently Folding Tissue: Sax trying to regain control of his emotions by ignoring everyone and just slowly folding the tissue he'd used to wipe his own tears was iconic behaviour tbh.

20. Jasper Gets Yeeted Again: Jasper trying to attack Sax and being repelled by the cottage's boundary protection. I was really pleased that I managed to get the camera in the right angle to show Jasper flying backwards, Fen reacting in shock, and Sax just standing there calmly because he knew what would happen.

21. Rudey II: I was so pleased and disgusted with myself for putting this conch shell in the foreground of my most NSFW pose hahahaah. Take that IG censors.

22. Shadows: the shadows were a paid actor.

23. I Love Landscapes: help I'm obsessed with snowy landscape shots. I really liked this one of Sax and Fen on either side of the boundary.

24. A Normal Reaction When Being Handed To Saxen: baby boy's already working on his side-eye game.

Oki... now I've said that I actually liked 24 things I made and I feel weird about it, so I'm gonna post before my brain makes me hit delete. 🥲

[timkontheunsure]

Think Via handed the missing piece there.

Depression can shut down any good, or happy emotions.

It can make them drain quickly, instead of being something your able to build on it, and use it to stay positive.

Like how Blitz is giving him affection Stolas has dreamt about all his life. But it's just not sticking for him.

He's had a whole month of basically of his brain not working right, and not being able to feel anything good. Just all his worry about his kid, and overwhelmed from a new situation.

He loves Via and Blitz as much as always, but the positive feelings that that make you act on that. That gets muted.

It's like trying to get at something behind glass, you can see it's there. But it out of reach.

Stolas has literally had something that would had had him swooning, and begging to take Blitz to bed.

So would the dancing. But the depression, that deep norring feeling of emptiness, isn't letting that happiness take root.

Blitz manager to break through a little with the flexible line, making Stolas laugh.

But it'll be ready hard for Stolas fully reciprocate, and reach out to Blitz till his brain is working right again.

(Via's a good girl for making sure Stolas has his meds)

I love Via, but she's making the same mistake a lot of family does. That if you love them, they'd being enough, and your brain chemistry would work just fine...

(Literally no one expects this to work with other illnesses. 'Have you tried thinking more positive to treat you diabetes?')

Ok going to honestly here. Via could never have been enough to stop her dad having depression, because of a lifetime of abuse and truma. And that's ok.

You shouldn't even try to be someone's only support. If someone telling you "it's you & me against the world" try and get them help. Same goes if they say that they're hanging on just for you.

A one person support system is inherited unstable. You can't be someone's everything. She can't, neither could Blitz.

He needs other people, friends, his lover and his daughter. As well as therapy and to stay on his medication, possibly for the long term.

Isolation isn't good for people, and I think Via might be starting to understand that. Now her support system has been taken away too.

She also need her own friends, and therapy so she can process the divorce. And she needs her dad.

Bet Loona will be extremely helpful with the get some friends bit.

Hopefully season 3 she can start putting it together.

She already not happy with what they're doing, and had to stop Uncle Andy from hurting her dad.

How much more of see what her mum and uncle are like will it take for to believe about Striker?

Also, the roles have reversed even further

Blitz is now the one going for it. He’s making the moves, he’s reaching out for Stolas’s hand

And even worse, Stolas isn’t doing it back

[thebardisabird]

Hello, I wanted to write something comforting because I was feeling sentimental so please take Matsus and some acts of self-care that they do for you: Osomatsu would make sure that you had something to eat/had some water. He's not judgmental if you forget, and he won't ask necessarily if you did or didn't so as not to put pressure on you. His way of making sure you're taken care of is letting you know he's grabbing something and coming back with something he knows you'll enjoy (with something to keep you hydrated). If you eat along with him? Great! If not, no worries, he'll stash it in the fridge for later. Point is to make sure you have some sort of nourishment. He'll even give you a little "Cheeeers~" with whatever drinks you have to show he's genuine, but that he's still your goofy Osomatsu. Karamatsu enjoys brushing your hair for you should that be something you're okay with. It's an act he's always enjoyed himself/has helped with his more anxious times when Matsuyo would brush his; if it's something you struggle with, fear not - he's got you. He does a pretty good job at taking care of his own hair so he's equipped to wash it and dry yours too if that's something you're interested in. If just a simple brushing sounds like a nice idea, then by all means, allow him to be of comfort to you. Don't be alarmed if he hums softly as he combs through your hair, it tends to be something he does when he's relaxed and using his hands for something gentle. He will check in with you to make sure he's not hurting you and every once in a while he may even ask to braid your hair if you have the length for it! Choromatsu will make sure you you have a comfortable space accessible always. If you're finding yourself overwhelmed in any way, Choromatsu does his due diligence as someone who cares about you and gets you outta there to get you to somewhere much more comfortable. Maybe that place is back home or a bookstore if you need something quiet. Should the quieter places not be good choices, maybe you'll go somewhere with a little more natural ambience like Akatsuka Park or even Chibita's oden stand. He's all about you feeling secure when you're out and about, especially when you’re with him. Ichimatsu strikes me as someone who is very much about you getting plenty of rest. Ichimatsu does not play about his sleep and he definitely does not play about YOU, so he's dedicated to making sure that you're well rested. Unlike how he treats his brothers however, he's much more softer with you. He'll lay down for naps here and there, patting the spot next to him so you can lay with him. He keeps things around the bedroom that he knows make you comfortable: certain scents, maybe a specific set of plushes/pillows, or even one of his hoodies if that makes you cozier. He's not pushy about when you sleep at night, but you'll find that he does little things here and there to gently coax you into better sleeping habits when he can. A big plus: he's a cuddler no less. So expect gentle back rubs as you snuggle or a little shimmy so he can hold you just a little closer while you both rest. Jyushimatsu is set on making sure you get fresh air. We all know that he enjoys being outdoors quite often; even if you're not the biggest on outdoorsy things, that's okay! He'll offer to just go on a walk with you or chill at the riverside and watch clouds if that's okay. His giant smile grows twice as wide when he sees the sun shining on your face, and seeing him happy makes it almost impossible not to smile back. He expresses how nice it is to spend time with you just being outside doing nothing and he finds little things to do or see within your comfortability that actually make your time outside worthwhile. Todomatsu helps you tap into your more creative outlets. Since he's got a resource to find things to do and places to go - he wants to help you take care of yourself by leaning into doing things that bring you joy. Do you enjoy painting? Perfect, he knows a place for that. Maybe you like baking or cooking? Come over, he'll have ingredients ready for you guys to make things together. If you like photography: wonderful, he does too and he’d be more than happy to show you some of the best sights to take pictures of. Anything that speaks to you creatively, Todomatsu wants to show that he completely supports you and enjoys being a part of the things you enjoy doing.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 14

Hi guys!

We are at the end of this story... And this is the sad ending of it. There will have another part, were you can read an happy ending, coming in like one hour. Don't hesitate to tell me which one you enjoy the most!

And thank again for the amount of love, encouragement and everything I had during this story. It wasn't always easy to write it to be honest, it was an heavy one. But i liked it anyway.

Lot of love ♥

TW : Death, fight, angst, no happy ending, blood

Chapter Before

As they both are talking and fighting, neither Ona nor Tony sees the shape of the person coming next to them. Panting, the silhouette takes some time to take their breath. The fight was hard, as expected. Both Lucy and Kayla come from career districts, they both learned how to fight during their childhood and were almost prepared for the Games.

“Lucy won’t let anything happen to me” Ona states confidently.

She’s sure about what she’s saying, everyone can see it in her eyes. Ona doesn’t blink when she looks at Tony, who seems almost amused by her.

“Do you think so? I don’t see her here for now” he laughs softly.

His laugh is empty, without any fun. He looks like a psychopath in Ona’s mind, but she thinks it’s maybe better not to push him further. He seems close to a mental breakdown.

His hand is shaking when he raises it, showing his sword near Ona’s throat. Ona flinches but doesn’t try to back off. She doesn’t want him to think that he has any power over her.

“I could kill you, right now. She wouldn’t be able to do anything against it.”

He seems so sure of himself, looking at her from above, his smirks talking for him. But Ona has never had so little respect for him since the beginning. The brunette doesn’t even want to fight against him, he’s here standing while she’s sitting on the ground. How can someone’s ego be like this?

“Do you really think so?”

Tony turns around to face the person who just talked and Ona jumps on her feet when she sees them. It’s Lucy. Tony just has time to turn around before being hit right in the face. He falls somewhere near Ona, making her fall back with him.

Ona groans when she hits her head on a tree root, right where she was already hurt. She tries to get away from Tony as fast as possible, but the boy is grabbing her legs for his dear life, trying to drag her to him. But he’s less strong with his arms than he was at the beginning, Ona hurt him there before, and she knows it.

She manages to kick him in the chin, making him go back. Ona goes back on all four, standing again when she thinks that she’s away enough from Tony. He’s bleeding from his mouth and Ona deduces that he might have bitten his tongue.

Just when he was going to jump on Ona, Lucy grabs him by the collar of his jacket.

“Don’t even think about it” she groans, pushing him away.

Lucy is smaller, but Ona has to say that with her anger and the hammer in her hand… She looks impressive. Her green eyes stay on Tony, even when she throws the bow and the arrows at Ona.

But Tony just sneers, arming his hand and his sword before talking again.

“I don’t have any problem to kill you before killing her”

“Aren’t you sick of hearing you?” Lucy snaps.

Ona sees Tony’s face becoming darker, clearly not liking Lucy’s comment. Ona can’t help but smile at Lucy’s comment, the sarcasm of the girl always making her smile. She takes advantage of this little moment to have a better look at her girlfriend. She has blood on her body but doesn’t really seem hurt. She has some cuts on her arms, but nothing seems really bad.

“I’m sick of you” he answers.

Lucy snorts this time, waiting for him to attack first. He’s turning his back to Ona and the younger girl wonders if she should take advantage of it, but it seems to her that Lucy wants to defeat Tony alone. She has something to deal with, beginning with the fact that Tony seems to want what is hers.

The fight starts and is maybe not really fair, Tony has a sword which is longer than Lucy’s hammer, in addition to the fact that he’s bigger and then has bigger movements. But Lucy still manages to hit him several times, using her smaller form to move faster than him.

That was until…

“Wolves!”

Ona scream is a little bit ignored by the two others to be honest, until Lucy spots the urgence in Ona’s voice when she talks again.

“Lucy! Wolves!”

Lucy turns to the direction Ona is pointing, before groaning when Tony takes advantage of it to hit her on the arm. Lucy groans in pain and almost throws her hammer on Tony’s face, helped by the rush of adrenaline.

Just like Ona, she saw the four wolves walking in their direction, in the form of a diamond. They are white and she would probably have found them beautiful if they weren’t explicitly looking for their next meal.

Ona is fully concentrated on the animals, forgetting Tony for several seconds.

Wrong move.

The boy, seeing Ona not far from him, raises his sword once again and hits her right in her stomach. The pain is so intense that Ona isn’t able to say anything. It’s Lucy who screams something that the brunette isn’t able to understand.

She feels someone grabbing her and holding her protectively against their breast, before the person starts to run. Ona doesn’t need a lot of time to recognize Lucy.

“It’s okay, you will be okay” Lucy keeps saying.

Ona doesn’t really understand what is happening when she feels herself being shaken. But she trusts Lucy and if she says that she will be okay, she knows that she will be. It’s only the sound of the canon who makes her open her eyes again.

Her vision is gloomy, but she still can see Lucy’s face right above her very clearly.

“Is he…” she whispers.

“Dead. The wolves…”

Lucy stops her sentence, but she doesn’t have to talk more for Ona to understand. She’s glad that the animals chose the one of the three who will give them the most fresh meat.

“I’m so cold” Ona whispers again.

And it looks like it’s starting to rain. She feels one or two drops of water on her face, seeming strangely hot against her cold skin. But when she looks at Lucy again, she understands. It’s not raining. Lucy is crying.

“I’m dying”

She can only whisper for now, her strength just not here anymore. Lucy shakes her head, but Ona isn’t sure if it’s because she’s answering her that she isn’t, or if Lucy just couldn’t stand the idea.

“It’s okay” Ona whispers. “We are going to be okay”

She concentrates all of her strength to raise her hand and softly strokes Lucy’s face.

Lucy sighs softly when the sun strokes her face softly, sneaking between the blinds she hadn’t correctly closed last night. The sun is not something usual at this part of the year here, but today is a special day. It’s Ona’s birthday.

It has always been a shining day, just like if her dead girlfriend keeps sending her sign, saying that she’s still here. Just like she promised her before dying in the arena, seven years ago.

Lucy rolls on her belly, hiding her face in a pillow. She hates those days, but somehow it makes her heart flutter to see how many people still have clear memories of Ona. And she loves the idea that she isn’t the only one to celebrate with her despite everything.

Lucy just had the time to take a shower and get dressed before someone knocks on the door of her house. But Lucy smiles softly, knowing perfectly who it is. When she opens the door, a small silhouette jumps in her legs and Lucy takes the small girl from the ground to cuddle her.

Laia, Joan and Aitana’s daughter, is Ona’s certified copy. She has the same smile, the same cheeky grin and the same big doe eyes.

After the Games, Lucy made the decision not to come back to her District, but to come leave with Ona’s family instead. She got the Batlle’s approval before coming here, of course. It made several adjustments with the Capitol, but they finally agreed to give her a house in the victory quarter of the 8 and not the 4.

Then she gave the house to Joan and Aitana, choosing to live in Ona’s former flat. It’s maybe not the healthiest way to live her grief and mourn her girlfriend, but like she told her parents, she’s old enough to know what she wants to do.

The Batlle never judged her. They welcomed her into their family, making her feel really integrated in a family for the first time in her life. They maybe aren’t her blood family, but they are her chosen one and she would give them everything.

When Ona’s mother started to call her “Mija”, she understood clearly that the things were reciprocated.

“How are you?” Aitana asks Lucy, hugging her when her daughter finally agrees to go back on the ground.

Lucy just shrugs before accepting Joan’s hug. They are supposed to be at the train station in twenty minutes, to greet Alexia’s family. Like every year, Alexia and Olga are coming here to be with Lucy and the Batlle.

This year they will be here with a new addition though. They welcomed a little girl less than one year ago.

Keeping her promise, Alexia named her Ona.

“Tia I’m hungry”

Lucy looks back at her niece, who crossed her arm on her chest with her signature pout on her face. Lucy feels her heart clenched when she sees one more time a perfect copy of Ona.

“Didn’t you have breakfast?” Lucy smiles at the little girl.

She retains a bigger smile when she sees the girl looking guilty at her parents before answering. She knows that look too.

“Sí… But I’d like a mince pie, please”

“Of course” Lucy laughs softly. “Can I?” she asks Joan.

He nods softly and Lucy leaves for her kitchen to grab what to please her niece. This is something Lucy likes to cook from time to time and Laia loves them. Lucy always has at least one for Laia, no matter what. She still hears Aitana talking while rummaging in her cupboard.

“You can eat it while we are going to the train station, okay? Otherwise, we’ll be late”

The walk to the train station is pretty quiet from Lucy’s side, but the attention of the others is taken by Laia who is happily walking and running around. Ona’s parents join them at some point, and they all walk together to get to Alexia and Olga.

At some point, Ona’s mother grabs Lucy’s arm to link them together. They don’t have to talk, just an exchange of regards makes them understand each other. It is sometimes strange for Lucy to see that another woman understands her easier than her mother ever did.

Lucy misses her niece and her nephew, and she goes from time to time to District 4 to see them, but that's all. Going back there is very difficult for her, every time it’s like she’s separated from Ona once again.

“The train’s coming!” Laia says, pointing at it.

The four-year-old doesn’t wait for anything or anyone before starting to run towards the train.

“Laia don’t run there!”

Joan’s voice is audible by far without any doubt, but Aitana grabs his arm.

“It’s okay. She’s safe” she points out.

“But the train…”

“She’s safe.”

The married couple look at each other before Joan sighs. No one around says anything else, but Lucy understands perfectly. Joan lost her little sister; she was one of the most important people in his life. He might be dead afraid for her daughter, wondering how he can protect her from finding herself in the arena too.

They finally arrive at the train station, catching Laia who is jumping on her feet, waiting for the three people to get out of it.

Lucy can’t help but smile softly when she sees the small baby in Olga’s arms. She knows the two girls perfectly now. She saw her a lot during those last years and Alexia wrote to her every month to exchange news.

She heard a lot about Alexia thanks to Ona, and when Lucy got out of the arena winning, Alexia reached her very quickly. Alexia was devastated to have lost Ona, but she never blamed Lucy for anything. Just like the others finally.

Lucy hates it.

She would like someone who thinks like her. She doesn’t know why she need someone to blame her for Ona’s death, but the understanding and the care she received from anyone is making everything more painful.

Everyone coos while seeing the baby, who seems to have blond hair and light eyes, just like Alexia. To be fair, it’s a very beautiful baby.

“Do you want to hold her?” Alexia asks Lucy.

“Oh… I don’t know” Lucy mumbles.

“Here, take her”

Lucy mumbles something more, but Alexia ignores it prodigiously and softly puts her daughter in Lucy’s arms. The baby is looking at her already when Lucy puts her eyes on her.

A new life, an innocent one that she has to protect too, at any cost.

Like every other year, they went to Ona’s memorial together, putting Ona’s favourite flowers on her statue’s feet. And like every year, Lucy remembers Ona's last words.

“Just live your life. I’ll be waiting for you, wherever I am. Wherever you are.”

She still can hear Ona’s voice perfectly. She’s glad that with time neither her voice nor her face is blurred. She wouldn’t have stood it.

Lucy lost herself in the contemplation of the statue, Ona’s life froze in time. The statue was made by the most talented person in the Capitol, it is really similar to Ona. The colour has been perfectly chosen, whether it’s the colour of her skin, eyes or hair. But Lucy misses her laugh, the warmth of her skin and the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes when she smiles.

“We’re going back, Luce” Ona’s dad says softly.

Lucy turns away from the statue to look at her father-in-law. He has a soft smile and Lucy realises that Olga is just behind him. Lucy nods at him and she needs two seconds to understand why Olga is taking steps to approach her.

She still has Baby Ona in her arms, having cradled her almost unconsciously all this time. The little girl finally falls asleep, feeling easily confident in Lucy’s arms.

“Can I have her back?” Olga smiles.

“Of course! I just… Here” she mumbles, passing carefully the baby in her Mama’s arms.

She misses the warmth of this tiny human against her chest almost immediately. Olga smiles at her a last time and Ona’s father taps her shoulder two times before going to find the others.

“I’m coming. I just…”

“It’s okay. We know.”

Lucy nods and turns to face the statue again. Of course, they understand. It’s the same thing every year. They come together, they spend some time here together. Then everyone leaves except Lucy to go to Joan’s house, where Ona’s mother cooks Ona’s favourite meals. All together.

Alexia was here last year too, 8 months and a half pregnant. Lucy was almost sure that she would give birth on the train back home, but it wasn’t the case.

Lucy always needs alone time here and the others understand perfectly. They never know her when she was younger, those days in the arena changed her a lot. She’s not really smiling anymore, unless she is with Laia. She’s not really talkative either. She’s just here, seeming lost and sometimes so broken inside that the Batlle hate how they are helpless facing the pain of the woman who loved their daughter so much.

“I’m still waiting for you to come and get me” Lucy mumbles to the statue. “It’s been seven years, Ona.”

She’s now sitting on the ground, her knees pressed against her chest and her arms around them.

She doesn’t know where they would've been if Ona was still alive, but to be honest Lucy never asked herself this kind of question. It hurts too much. She doesn’t have any plan, any project now. She just waits.

The amount of money she has every year for being the winner of her Games is enough for her to live. She pays for her apartment; she works with her parents-in-law and uses the rest to buy presents for Laia or the others. The Batlle probably have the most well decorated houses around.

She knows Jana’s family too and she’s kind of friends with Jana’s sister. It’s a strange friendship to be honest, but Bruna is a nice girl. And just like her, she lost someone she loved deeply because of the Games. It makes it easier for them to understand each other.

“If you need me, you just have to look at the sky. I’ll always be here”

It was strange that it was Ona who needed to comfort Lucy when she was the one dying. But with this sentence she keeps looking at the sky. She sees Ona in every star, every planet, every rainbow, every sunset or every dawn.

“You are the best thing that ever happens to me”

Ona was the best thing in Lucy’s life too, so how is she supposed to feel like breathing correctly when Ona isn’t here anymore. It just doesn’t make any sense for Lucy. She was her everything. Now she just has nothing left.

If the Batlle hadn’t taken her in as one of their own, Lucy is certain that she would have given up a long time ago.

Watching Ona’s eyes slowly fade while she kept saying how much she loves her is still something very vivid in Lucy’s mind. She’s glad to have been able to say all those things to Ona, but she would rather be able to tell them again.

Soon, she hopes.

Because there is no world where she could forget Ona, even if she wanted to.

The Happy Ending

[menelaus-blue]

thinking about this scene from the adventurer's bible from kabru's perspective...

[orengejoshi]

Pregnancy as a kink makes me uncomfortable so man am I glad your pregg Flug stuff is explicitly not kink oriented!

yeah I... don't wanna judge anyone... but it's more than that, it's downright terrifying to me. Blame my hormones bc I'm expecting irl but wow... I'm very sensitive and it feels dehumanizing. but ig that is kinda the point of the kink(?)

it's so common in fandoms!

I'm completely vanilla anyway tho, so not surprising.

I've tried to pretend for a super long time that I'm into kink, but most of them are off putting and I consider them intrusive thoughts, not fantasies. I'm kinda fluctuating between sex-repulsed and neutral (aroace) even fictional... ig kink just isn't for me. I tried so hard to get over it. I know some people in my asks/requests are gonna be disappointed but I'm sorry💔

I'm slightly ashamed of how boring I am and I have serious trouble connecting to anyone in fandoms due to this actually🤕 feel like the most NT autistic person ever.

anyway here's a doodle!

[pansyfemme]

should i drop out of college (i have no reason to and doing so would make my life signfigantly worse) please say yesssss 🥺

[greenerteacups]

oooh please someday tell us what you think of GOT

oh, no, it's my fatal weakness! it's [checks notes] literally just the bare modicum of temptation! okay you got me.

SO. in order to tell what's wrong with game of thrones you kind of have to have read the books, because the books are the reason the show goes off the rails. i actually blame the showrunners relatively little in proportion to GRRM for how bad the show was (which I'm not gonna rehash here because if you're interested in GOT in any capacity you've already seen that horse flogged to death). people debate when GOT "got bad" in terms of writing, but regardless of when you think it dropped off, everyone agrees the quality declined sharply in season 8, and to a certain extent, season 7. these are the seasons that are more or less entirely spun from whole cloth, because season 7 marks the beginning of what will, if we ever see it, be the Winds of Winter storyline. it's the first part that isn't based on a book by George R.R. Martin. it's said that he gave the showrunners plot outlines, but we don't know how detailed they were, or how much the writers diverged from the blueprint — and honestly, considering the cumulative changes made to the story by that point, some stark divergence would have been required. (there's a reason for this. i'll get there in a sec.)

so far, i'm not saying anything all that original. a lot of people recognized how bad the show got as soon as they ran out of Book to adapt. (I think it's kind of weird that they agreed to make a show about an unfinished series in the first place — did GRRM figure that this was his one shot at a really good HBO adaptation, and forego misgivings about his ability to write two full books in however many years it took to adapt? did he think they would wait for him? did he not care that the series would eventually spoil his magnum opus, which he's spent the last three decades of his life writing? perplexing.) but the more interesting question is why the show got bad once it ran out of Book, because in my mind, that's not a given. a lot of great shows depart from the books they were based on. fanfiction does exactly that, all the time! if you have good writers who understand the characters they're working with, departure means a different story, not a worse one. now, the natural reply would be to say that the writers of GOT just aren't good, or at least aren't good at the things that make for great television, and that's why they needed the books as a structure, but I don't think that's true or fair, either. books and television are very different things. the pacing of a book is totally different from the pacing of a television show, and even an episodic book like ASOIAF is going to need a lot of work before it's remotely watchable as a series. bad writers cannot make great series of television, regardless of how good their source material is. sure, they didn't invent the characters of tyrion lannister and daenerys targaryen, but they sure as hell understood story structure well enough to write a damn compelling season of TV about them!

so but then: what gives? i actually do think it's a problem with the books! the show starts out as very faithful to the early books (namely, A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings) to the point that most plotlines are copied beat-for-beat. the story is constructed a little differently, and it's definitely condensed, but the meat is still there. and not surprisingly, the early books in ASOIAF are very tightly written. for how long they are, you wouldn't expect it, but on every page of those books, the plot is racing. you can practically watch george trying to beat the fucking clock. and he does! useful context here is that he originally thought GOT was going to be a trilogy, and so the scope of most threads in the first book or two would have been much smaller. it also helps that the first three books are in some respects self-contained stories. the first book is a mystery, the second and third are espionage and war dramas — and they're kept tight in order to serve those respective plots.

the trouble begins with A Feast for Crows, and arguably A Storm of Swords, because GRRM starts multiplying plotlines and treating the series as a story, rather than each individual book. he also massively underestimated the number of pages it would take him to get through certain plot beats — an assumption whose foundation is unclear, because from a reader's standpoint, there is a fucke tonne of shit in Feast and Dance that's spurious. I'm not talking about Brienne's Riverlands storyline (which I adore thematically but speaking honestly should have been its own novella, not a part of Feast proper). I'm talking about whole chapters where Tyrion is sitting on his ass in the river, just talking to people. (will I eat crow about this if these pay off in hugely satisfying ways in Winds or Dream? oh, totally. my brothers, i will gorge myself on sweet sweet corvid. i will wear a dunce cap in the square, and gleefully, if these turn out to not have been wastes of time. the fact that i am writing this means i am willing to stake a non-negligible amount of pride on the prediction that that will not happen). I'm talking about scenes where the characters stare at each other and talk idly about things that have already happened while the author describes things we already have seen in excruciating detail. i'm talking about threads that, while forgivable in a different novel, are unforgivable in this one, because you are neglecting your main characters and their story. and don't tell me you think that a day-by-day account tyrion's river cruise is necessary to telling his story, because in the count of monte cristo, the main guy disappears for nine years and comes hurtling back into the story as a vengeful aristocrat! and while time jumps like that don't work for everything, they certainly do work if what you're talking about isn't a major story thread!

now put aside whether or not all these meandering, unconcluded threads are enjoyable to read (as, in fairness, they often are!). think about them as if you're a tv showrunner. these bad boys are your worst nightmare. because while you know the author put them in for a reason, you haven't read the conclusion to the arc, so you don't know what that reason is. and even if the author tells you in broad strokes how things are going to end for any particular character (and this is a big "if," because GRRM's whole style is that he lets plots "develop as he goes," so I'm not actually convinced that he does have endings written out for most major characters), that still doesn't help you get them from point A (meandering storyline) to point B (actual conclusion). oh, and by the way, you have under a year to write this full season of television, while GRRM has been thinking about how to end the books for at least 10. all of this means you have to basically call an audible on whether or not certain arcs are going to pay off, and, if they are, whether they make for good television, and hence are worth writing. and you have to do that for every. single. unfinished. story. in the books.

here's an example: in the books, Quentin Martell goes on a quest to marry Daenerys and gain a dragon. many chapters are spent detailing this quest. spoiler alert: he fails, and he gets charbroiled by dragons. GRRM includes this plot to set up the actions of House Martell in Winds, but the problem is that we don't know what House Martell does in Winds, because (see above) the book DNE. So, although we can reliably bet that the showrunners understand (1) Daenerys is coming to Westeros with her 3 fantasy nukes, and (2) at some point they're gonna have to deal with the invasion of frozombies from Canada, that DOESN'T mean they necessarily know exactly what's going to happen to Dorne, or House Martell. i mean, fuck! we don't even know if Martin knows what's going to happen to Dorne or House Martell, because he's said he's the kind of writer who doesn't set shit out beforehand! so for every "Cersei defaults on millions of dragons in loans from the notorious Bank of Nobody Fucks With Us, assumes this will have no repercussions for her reign or Westerosi politics in general" plotline — which might as well have a big glaring THIS WILL BE IMPORTANT stamp on top of the chapter heading — you have Arianne Martell trying to do a coup/parent trap switcheroo with Myrcella, or Euron the Goffick Antichrist, or Faegon Targaryen and JonCon preparing a Blackfyre restoration, or anything else that might pan out — but might not! And while that uncertainty about what's important to the "overall story" might be a realistic way of depicting human beings in a world ruled by chance and not Destiny, it makes for much better reading than viewing, because Game of Thrones as a fantasy television series was based on the first three books, which are much more traditional "there is a plot and main characters and you can generally tell who they are" kind of book. I see Feast and Dance as a kind of soft reboot for the series in this respect, because they recenter the story around a much larger cast and cast a much broader net in terms of which characters "deserve" narrative attention.

but if you're making a season of television, you can't do that, because you've already set up the basic premise and pacing of your story, and you can't suddenly pivot into a long-form tone poem about the horrors of war. so you have to cut something. but what are you gonna cut? bear in mind that you can't just Forget About Dorne, or the Iron Islands, or the Vale, or the North, or pretty much any region of the story, because it's all interconnected, but to fit in everything from the books would require pacing of the sort that no reasonable audience would ever tolerate. and bear in mind that the later books sprout a lot more of these baby-plots that could go somewhere, but also might end up being secondary or tertiary to the "main story," which, at the end of the day, is about dragons and ice zombies and the rot at the heart of the feudal power system glorified in classical fantasy. that's the story that you as the showrunner absolutely must give them an end to, and that's the story that should be your priority 1.

so you do a hack and slash job, and you mortar over whatever you cut out with storylines that you cook up yourself, but you can't go too far afield, because you still need all the characters more or less in place for the final showdown. so you pinch here and push credulity there, and you do your best to put the characters in more or less the same place they would have been if you kept the original, but on a shorter timeframe. and is it as good as the first seasons? of course not! because the material that you have is not suited to TV like the first seasons are. and not only that, but you are now working with source material that is actively fighting your attempt to constrain a linear and well-paced narrative on it. the text that you're working with changed structure when you weren't looking, and now you have to find some way to shanghai this new sprawling behemoth of a Thing into a television show. oh, and by the way, don't think that the (living) author of the source material will be any help with this, because even though he's got years of experience working in television writing, he doesn't actually know how all of these threads will tie together, which is possibly the reason that the next book has taken over 8 years (now 13 and counting) to write. oh and also, your showrunners are sick of this (in fairness, very difficult) job and they want to go write for star wars instead, so they've refused the extra time the studio offered them for pre-production and pushed through a bunch of first-draft scripts, creating a crunch culture of the type that spawns entirely avoidable mistakes, like, say, some poor set designer leaving a starbucks cup in frame.

anyway, that's what I think went wrong with game of thrones.