#Like Pre-Beast when he was all vain and shit

[meteor752]

What the fuck is up with Hook

Why is he at some random prep school? He’s already got the hook hand, so Peter Pan has already cut it off meaning he’s been to Neverland, also he says he’s a captain so like why the fuck are you here

I hate this movie so fucking much, nothing about it makes sense to me, why is Hades a teenager, why did they make some fankid of a Sofia the first villain instead of using one of the many Disney Villains that exist, why is Maleficent a lackey, why am I devoting so much of my time to try and make sense of this movie

[shinygoku]

gordon gordon gordon gordon

Gordon Gordon Gordon Gordon!!

He's been sneaking into these asks by proxy, so it's finally time for his dedicated session, hehe~

First impression

WUAAAGH what's up with this WEIRD LONG NOT-THOMAS and his FACE?!

Impression now

His face is still pretty weird! But you know what else it is? Part of an Absolute Legend ✨

Like, man, Gordon is such a big presence and interesting character, the entire premise leans heavily on him. I'm inclined to go as far as to say that the Blue Boys of 1, 2 and 4 here are the three most important characters for the franchise (not at all to knock everyone else lmao) and they slot nicely into a Triforce of Courage, Wisdom and Power, and Gordon has Power in spades!

Gordon is The Vain One (not James!). He's legit very strong and the fastest on Sodor (which isn't just being a big fish in a small pond because that island has some crazy cool engines!) but unfortunately he lacks humility. His success seems to have been lodged in his head before the series even begins and this Pride is the source of pretty much every single conflict he's involved in.

But when it isn't his self satisfaction in his actions, it's being smug about being such a grand, magnificent Tender Engine and he is snooty as hell about it. He seems to look at smaller engines [pretty much everyone compared to him lol] as a lesser class, particularly if they're small and cheeky and Tank Engines. This may not be the case exactly, but his way of talking to them and some other things he says are very condescending.

However... as much as a gigantic jerk he is at several points, with Gordon I kinda feel like he plain ass doesn't conceive of his words being out of line. That and having to Unlearn things... he's not innately better than everyone else. He sees things in black and white. There are Useful Engines, and those who should be scrapped. There are Noble Tender Engines and Lesser Tank Engines who exist to do the tedious chores on behalf of the Superior ones. Edward doing shunting is seen as Demeaning and contradicts Gordon’s world view that Tender Engines Don't Stunt™, and he doesn't like that one bit! (Also Edward was crossing the picket line but that wasn't Awdry's concern lmao)

Related is Gordon does seem oddly dense at times, like assuming that Tenders are in of themselves a Status Symbol rather than a large lunchbox of sorts lol, or that Tender Engines like him being too heavy for Branch Lines being because something about Branch Lines are degrading. This might be all Elitist Brainwashing influence. But still, that he just takes these as The Truth means I get to affectionately call him an idiot. And there is no other way to explain how he genuinely believes Bill and Ben were going to murder him if he wasn't missing a few brain bolts in there.

Fortunately, he does eventually start to learn the important lessons.... very gradually, but the Early Gordon is a pretty different beast to Later Gordon, and it's wonderful~

Also, I gotta give credit to him for having some moments of utter brilliance and actual grasp of reality and more complex matters, like culture. (Yeah, I'm rolling with his geniune Opera Knowledge from s6 of all things. It's good!) As much as Awdry himself may have disagreed, Gordon was in the right to want a Station Pilot and the Strike was called for (not bullying Edward for it, but myeah) ...but this leads to my next point: He seems to have a mental block when it comes to Emotions.

Certainly, he's as emotional as the others are, it's not just a scale of Snooty, Arrogant, Condescending, Prideful ....well, it is, but ALSO the more mixed and varied feelings: Shame, Sadness, Fear, Ambivilance, Irritation, Anger, Passion, Amused, Delight and so on. However, Gordon is seemingly unaware of how his words may make the others feel, and even at his cruellest it doesn't look like he's aware he's twisting a knife in. To Gordon, he's being honest, but his verbose manner ends up twisting and wriggling away from any valid point like an overgrown vine that somehow links back to how [Other Engine] is disgracing him, Gordon, by association.

Examples include: Being offended by Henry's new shape (??? Gordon dude he nearly died and this is an improvement, a good thing!), saying that Edward's age and difficulty starting a heavy ass packed load of passengers is grounds to be Retired or even Scrapped, other little insulting things like calling the likes of Thomas and James Little insistently (it seems to vary if he's trying to put them down or actually be affectionate), and many more when in the hands of inept writers who have to wheel out the same Gordon Learns A Lesson Plot every other season.

Like I said in the James post, I also think he kinda poisoned the Red guy with his snooty attitude... but I maintain that I think Gordon was unaware of this. He may know he has Influence, and enjoy that, but he really truly doesn't appear to mean to mould James into a smaller, redder version of himself. He's oblivious and from his own point of view, benevolent. Which is in fact a dangerous combo indeed!

It's... a lot o7;;

Again though, if you're looking at the books and s1-s5 of TVS you can see him grow and change. He does take a while to learn the lessons, but as time goes on he moves 2 steps forward and 1 step back, then eventually less steps back entirely. It's great! And so is Gordon. A big dumb meathead with not entirely uncalled for delusions of granduer. A dramatic so-and-so who is the best engine for his job.

I love this sophisticated jock who grows more kindness~ 💙

Favourite moment

Hm! This isn't as easy to decide lol. We all like Gordon Goes Foreign... but you know what sticks in my mind more?

hOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH

Look, I’m not 100% objective, here! But Ringo’s read of this line is fantastic (and keeps making me expect him to finish saying OOOHH SHIT) and it’s also a well deserved bolt of divine retribution for how rude he was being earlier. (As long as my essay already was, he very much needed the knocking down of some pegs here!)

Idea for a story

While both my fics with him thus far have been variations of Pre-Canon, Full-Arrogance and Snobbish Gordon (and both were a lot of fun!) ...but I cannot bear the same expired horse being beaten more when the story is set waaay later but he’s still up his own ass. Please, PLEASE writers, let him hold what growth he’s managed to gain!

I think it’d be good to accept that he’s gonna be outdated sooner or later, so have him help train another High Speed Engine and take them under his wing. The Christopher Awdry books kinda have something similar with Pip and Emma, but I think a better way of having Gordon be involved would be if he was actively doing some mentoring himself, as well as being a neat parallel with Edward, whose type was once Express only but got outclassed by A1s, and so the same can happen to this big A1 -> A3 lad and he can form a healthy relationship with some bright eyed newbie (and maybe have some self awareness and try to stop their head getting too large, lol).

Unpopular opinion

I know I just said him mentoring would be a cool story idea, but in canon? He is NOT a resident Dad type!! He’s a hotshot young man but he’s also a hot mess. He’s physically large but he’s not got the Energy of someone who dispenses sage advice and a shoulder to cry on. At best, he’s a weird uncle! One who means well but you shouldn’t take his life advice to heart because he’s actually just as, if not more clueless than you!

Favourite relationship

I feel inclined to say Thomas here. Emphatically not because Gordon is ‘old’ and Thomas is ‘young’, but because they’re so damn alike and actually make an excellent, albeit unconventional type of Rivalry.

Both are self important with genuine finesse in their respective talents, both are honest to a fault, both have redeeming qualities to offset their initial abrasiveness, and the first TVS episode is centred on the both of them and sets the tone for the series as a whole. There’s more parallels, of course, but I also wanna point out they’re effectively the mascots of North Western Rail in universe too, and I absolutely love this picture:

I also have immense fondness for the Down the Mine paradigm shift! Thomas gives Gordon grief over the ditch incident and later when it emerges the Fat Controller is gonna send for Gordon to pull him out, Thomas is filled with dread. But Gordon isn’t using the chance to lord over Thomas, he’s actually so amused by Thomas’ mishap and it coming at a time where he’s been significantly humbled, they instead become Comrades and I love it. I eat it up! Paint Pots and Queens isn’t anywhere near as good but I adore the little bit where they’re appealing for the other, equals and watching each other’s back~

But yeah, as Friendly Rivals they both feel very authentic and yet, in a daft way, sweet ;3

Favourite headcanon

He still says “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” when pulling the Express. That’s a HC as I think the show phased it out, but I like it lol. I feel like my essay on him contains most of the headcanon stuff, but it’s all based on what’s shown, baybee!

[epicstuckyficrecs]

Weekly recap | July 29th-August 4th

Here’s what I read in the last week! 💙 

You can find my other Weekly Recaps here!

~

Complete

This Has Already Happened by Mollyamory (Molly), Speranza/ @cesperanza (canon divergence | 8K | Not rated): "There are absolutely no circumstances in which I give the Time Stone to you," the Wizard gasps. "None. Nada. Zip. Choke on that, you sonofabitch."

Not Broken, Just Bent by amethystkrystal/ @amethystkrystal, goodmanperfectsoldier (ABO AU | 3K | Teen): Steve teaches a prenatal yoga class, and though he has a soft spot for all his students, he can't help being especially drawn to Bucky Barnes, the soft-spoken — and unmated — omega who just joined the studio.

💙 Ill With Want by thedoubteriswise/ @thedoubteriswise (Pre-war | 27K | Mature): Bucky pretends to be asleep when Steve crawls into bed, too tired to feel guilty over the quivery pleasure that settles in his belly when Steve’s arm brushes his. Bucky doesn’t move him. He drifts to sleep in a comfortable haze and tries not to wonder where this feeling was two hours ago when he had Marie in his lap.

💙 you are the future (series) by greyhavensking/ @greyhavensking (canon divergent, post-Avengers | 6 works, series marked not complete | 33K | Teen): Sweat trickles down from his hairline into his eyes and he irritably swipes it away, a little convinced that the gesture will also serve to wipe away what he’s seeing. But no, that’s definitely a man -- at least judging by the breadth of his shoulders and general body shape -- single-handedly facing off against a trio of enraged aliens.

It's possible that he wants you too by belovedmuerto/ @belovedmuerto (Post-WS | 4K | Teen): “Bucky kissed me this morning,” Steve says, not quite believing the words even as they’re coming out of his mouth. “Wait,” Sam replies. “Back up.”

14-Inch Cock and a Few Hundred Bimbos by verzacefatale/ @verzacefatale (PWP | 3K | Explicit): There are some things in life, Steve muses as he stares down at his crotch, that nothing can prepare you for. Sure, becoming a super soldier was, at the time, the most wild thing he could think of, and sure, his tolerance for ridiculous, catastrophic and immeasurably weird situations has very much grown since then, but this? His dick suddenly growing six inches in length and another two in girth, just because he opened a box in a Hydra dug out that maybe he should have read the instructions on before he did? How was he to know it was literally magic that would make his cock grow huge? 

Hic sunt dracones by stevergrsno (noxlunate)/ @stevergrsno (Medieval Fantasy, Dragon Steve | 5K | Teen): There are stories: Stories of knights and the dragons they slayed. Stories of princes who conquered the great fire-breathing beasts terrorizing their kingdoms. Stories of how they saved their lands and won the hand of fair princesses in battle. This is not one of those stories. At least not in the strictest sense.

To Eat from the Tree by AidaRonan (30′s AU | 6K | Explicit): There is a story they tell in Collinwood, NY. A story of two priests-in-training who fell off the path of righteousness and into each other.

💙 As long as I have a face, you'll always have somewhere to sit by Avaaricious (Modern AU, meet-cute | 5K | Mature): AKA the "My friends bet that I couldn't pick up someone using the worst lines I know, but I actually like you and don't want to screw up" AU

Proud by dixons_mama (TFA | 2K | Teen): While trapped in Azzano, Bucky accidentally confesses to Steve that he loves him. Bucky is sure this will be the end of their friendship.

WIP

Solitary by exclamation/ @jessicameats (Canon divergent | 35/? | 87K | Mature): The Winter Soldier has been a prisoner of SHIELD for about a year and a half, placed in solitary confinement under strict security when it was clear he wasn’t going to respond to the best interrogators and deprogrammers SHIELD had available. When Fury asks a newly awakened Steve Rogers to assist, Steve is hesitant. He doesn’t understand why Fury thinks he would have a better chance of getting through to this guy than all the people who have tried and failed.

💙 This Side of the Blue by notlucy/ @notlucy (Mermaid AU | 23/44 | 83K | Explicit): Tucked against a set of crumbling, stone steps was a tank made of metal and glass, filled to the brim with greenish water, distorted sunlight filtering through and casting strange shadows. Playing tricks on the eye. A trick was the only explanation for what Steve saw floating there. This figment of his childhood. This myth. This legend. Within the tank, the siren bared its teeth.

💙 Latte Art and Slow Dancing in the Dark by deadonarrival (Modern AU with powers, Daddy kink | 15/20 | 77K | Explicit): Bucky is a somewhat well-adjusted former army sniper that got his shoulder blown out. He took his discharge and went home to finish school and is working on his international relations masters. His best friends and roommates (Nat & Clint) are CIA agents and tip him off that their local Sbux is hiring. He gets a job there and meets none other than the hottest guy on earth. So how does one get a date in the most top secret government location in the US? What happens when that guy is more than just a hot dorito and wants to give Bucky everything he wants? Bucky is going to have to figure out his shit and fast. 

💙 Like Real People Do by 2bestfriends (Shrunkyclunks, canon divergent post-Avengers | 31K | 5/10 | Explicit): Seven years into an isolated retirement after the Battle of New York, Steve has carved out a place for himself in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains. He has a best friend (his dog, Lady), a frenemy (a local black bear named Rufus), and a cabin in the middle of the woods, an hour’s drive from the nearest town. As November comes to a close, he heads into town to pick up supplies and ends up with a stowaway.

💙 Cakes & Balances by mambo/ @whtaft (POTUS Steve | 14K | 7/? | Teen): It’s kind of hard to date the cute baker from down the street when you’re the President of the United States of America. But Steve Rogers will make it work.

Bucky Barnes and the Embarrassment of Spidermen by AggressiveWhenStartled (Multiverse, Peter-centric(ish) | 4/5 | 15K | Mature): “Peter,” Steve said into the table. “Please tell me you didn’t bring home someone from Tony’s alternate dimension.” “Of course I didn’t,” Peter said, looking indignant. “I wouldn’t do that. I brought him to your place.”

Re-read

💙 All's fair in [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] (series) by redcigar (canon-divergent, post-WS | 3 works, series marked not complete | 10K | Mature): AU wherein Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers never met, Steve somehow manages to rescue the Winter Soldier anyway, and Avengers Tower ends up with the world’s angriest duckling and a whole new brand of entertainment.

💙 honey don't feed it, it will come back by ellebeesknees (umetnica), thedoubteriswise/ @thedoubteriswise (canon compliant, TFA | 18K | Mature): He lets out a long sigh and watches Bucky. Back home he was always too vain to let more than a day’s worth of stubble build up, but now he’s got about three days of scruff on his chin. He shouldn’t look handsome like this. His eyes are shut, but Steve can tell by his breathing that he’s still awake. The cat is curled up on his stomach and purring like an idling motor.

Learning To Say Hello by heartsdesire456/ @heartsdesire456 (Post-WS, Clint POV | 11K | Mature): In which Hawkeye befriends the Winter Soldier and discovers the Epic Love Story of Steve and Bucky nobody knows about)

Howl Home (Shift for Me) by Menatiera/ @menatiera (canon divergent, wolf Steve, Bucky Cap | 13K | Teen): As Captain America, Bucky Barnes rescued a hyper-intelligent wolf from HYDRA during the war. He makes a good fit with the Howling Commandos - and later, with the Avengers.

💙 The Sweetest Spark by deadto27 (Modern AU, age difference | 73K | Explicit): Steve Rogers runs a successful business. He has great friends and a great life. It seems like he has it all. So why is he sitting in a diner on a Friday night alone? Maybe he's just a little lonely. Maybe Bucky Barnes can help with that.

[starswornoaths]

Good does not Equal Nice

“What a tragedy.” Serella blanched, leaning back toward the bar. “Hey Uthen, put ‘Forever Lost’ on the orchestrion.”

Or:

Serella’s had it up to here with corruption and bullshit. Uthengentle tags along for the show...and the booze.

If there was one good thing Lord Archambeault could say about the newly formed Republic of Ishgard, it was that the gates being opened to the public made more...discreet meetings with unsavory characters significantly easier— and far less suspect, to boot.

Seated at one of the tables in the Forgotten Knight, dressed down to a simple coat and suit to better blend in, he brought his mulled wine closer to his chest and curled into it, as if to shield it from the other patrons. He supposed it was not so foolish a choice; if even one of the more common folk realized who he was, he was fairly certain an attempt would be made on his life. The sooner his contact got here, the sooner this whole business could be concluded— permanently.

As if summoned, an elezen woman draped in a thick traveler’s cloak, the hood obscuring her face, seemed to drift into the chair beside him. He straightened his back to draw upon his full height, looking at the woman expectantly.

“Job’s done.” She said, her low alto voice only just hovering above the low din of the establishment like smoke. “She’s been taken care of.”

“Am I to merely take your word for it?” He scoffed. “I asked for proof before payment. I am not budging.”

There was a wheeze of a sigh as she turned to rummage, presumably in a pocket or a pack of some sort, when his gaze drifted to her back. He hadn’t noticed when he hired the woman, but looking at the shape of her back, what he had thought was a hunched spine was clearly a shield hiding underneath her cloak— a kite shield, he recognized from his younger years.

Was she a wayward knight turned adventurer? Even as the thought crossed his mind he dismissed it; it didn’t matter. She righted herself on the chair and turned to face him. Even though he could hardly see her face— a blue scarf obscured much of it— he felt uncomfortably, infinitesimally insignificant when staring into the abyss of her hood. As she reached a closed fist toward him slowly, so slowly, he sucked in a breath and held it. He fought the urge to close his eyes as she slowly opened her clenched fingers, staring into the nothing of her hood as he waited for—

A faint clattering sound at the bottom of his mug drew his attention away from the void enshrouded woman. As she took her hand back, she revealed what she had dropped into his cup: a silver ring, with a single emerald at the center of it. Droplets of crimson stained the precious metal, though he was unsure of if it was blood or wine that marked it.

“...From her hand?” Lord Archambeault ventured, fishing the ring out from his cup.

Turning it over in his hand, he confirmed it was what he had thought it was: the very ring he had proposed to his own late wife with, the ring his daughter’s betrothed asked for to place upon his daughter’s finger. The one she wore even after her husband had long since died. For his daughter to part with it...she would have to be dead.

“From her hand.” The woman confirmed, nodding. “It seemed one of the more...inconspicuous things I could take as proof.”

He couldn’t help but concede the point; he’d asked for one of the fingers on his daughter’s hand at first, but given their meeting places had all been fairly public, this was far better to take as a token.

“Good, good.” He said idly, waving a server over for another drink. “And a round for my companion.” He said in his most charitable voice. When the server left, he continued, “I must admit, your cunning has impressed me. I am moved to add to your bounty.” He spoke as he stared at the ring for a moment longer before flicking it carelessly back to the woman. It clattered on its way to her, gently knocking into her forearm. “Keep it; you women like your baubles, don’t you?”

His enigmatic employee angled her head only enough to acknowledge that the ring had been given back to her but remained silent for long enough that Lord Archambeault began to feel uncomfortable.

“If you like.” She finally said, pocketing the ring once more. “But that does not replace my payment.”

“Of course, lass.” He said dismissively as he rummaged in his coat for the requisite sum of gil. Pulling out a pre-counted pouch, he set it on the table. “Here you a—”

He let out a high pitched yelp as the adventurer’s hand roughly seized his outstretched arm, pulling him nearly across the table. As he was hauled half upon the tabletop, he saw her other arm move upward— there was the glint of steel— and he let out a scream as the knife embedded—

—Into the table, catching his sleeve along the way and pinning him in place.

Once it fully registered that he had not been stabbed, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he nearly choked on, but it came out as little more than a squeaking whimper as the woman loomed over him.

“Unhand me!” He cried, struggling against the knife and her hand pressing down on his arm hard enough for it to hurt. “I have paid you! You cannot—!”

“I don’t care about the money, honestly.” The woman answered cooly, as if she was not pinning him to the table with enough force to nearly break his arm. “What I do care about—” she twisted his arm just enough that he felt his shoulder protest. “Is what makes a parent neglect and hate their child so godsdamned readily in this city.”

“Wh—” He sputtered, struggling against her in vain.

“I suppose that’s unfair. You’re hardly the first parent in Ishgard I’ve seen utterly unworthy of the title, but I’ve seen them everywhere. You’re nothing special.”

“And yet you still seek to harm me?”

“You imply you are worth more than you are.” She spat on him— him! — and it landed on his cheek. “It’s what you’ve done to your own daughter that caught my attention.”

“Do you know who you’re messing with?!” He demanded, glaring up at her with what intimidation he had left in him from his younger days.

“I’m aware of who I am dealing with— a nobody.” She snarled low in the back of her throat. “A nobody who should be very worried with who he is dealing with.”

With her free hand, she pushed the hood away from her head, shooed the abyss back beyond the veil, and revealed her face to him. Warm olive skin, deeply scarred but stark against ebony hair— and two mismatched eyes, one blue, one green.

He knew this woman.

“Shit,” he hissed. “The Warrior of Light.”

“Yeah, that’s the only good thing about that title.” She clucked her tongue. “Saves the introductions. Now, then. I was asking you a question.” Fear, cold and cloying, crept up his spine as she looked down at him. He had stared down the face of dragons and laughed in his prime but looking into the eyes of the madwoman who slew Nidhogg was like facing down another beast entirely. He flinched as she leaned down to his level. “What drives a man to let his daughter suffer for so long?”  

“You don’t understand—” He began when she tightened her grip on his arm.

“I understand that your daughter is a proud Temple Knight.” Serella said, her frown deepening as she stood straight once more. “I understand that she had to watch her whole unit— her husband included— die. Didn’t she?”

“A-aye.” He nodded his head, eager for her to just let him go.

“I also understand that she never recovered— and you made sure of that.”

“I—!” He lifted his chin indignantly— or at least, as much as his current position allowed him to. “I did all I could—!”

“Tying your daughter in her own bed and gagging her to silence the screams is not,” she twisted his arm an ilm more. He felt his shoulder wind up, ready to snap, but his whimper was ignored as she continued, “how you ‘do all you can,’ for someone, my lord.” He did not know her well, but he did not have to to understand that though her tone was even and she was speaking very quietly that she was seething. “Nor is it right to have her killed just because she isn’t what you wanted her to be.”

“Please—” he begged.

“Please what?” She asked sardonically, her lip curled into a sneer. “How many times did she ask you for help? How many times did you have her in the position you’re in now, demanding that she just ‘get it together?’”

“You have no proof—”

“How. Many. Times.” She enunciated each word with an extra bit of her weight pressing down on his arm. He spared it a glance, realizing dismally that his fingers were now turning purple and beginning to tingle. If she kept this up…

“Does it matter?” He sneered at her. “You killed her! You did! So who are you to judge me?”

“Bold of you to assume I killed her.” Serella said calmly, looking at the nails of the hand that wasn’t currently resisting the urge to mangle his entire arm.

“But you said—!”

“I said she’s taken care of.” Serella cut him off. “And she is. She’s finally getting the help she needs as a Knight that valiantly served her country. The help you denied her.” She gave him a dark, sidelong glance. “You let her suffer— then demanded she die. All because it would bring shame to your household, if gossip is to be believed.”

“You don’t understand!” Lord Archambeault said again. “You can’t understand how hard it was! How unmanageable her condition is!” He tried to tug against the knife holding his coat hostage, but the blade was sunk deep into the table. “Our house has only ever produced the most stalwart of knights! No one could know my own daughter had crumbled so!”

“What a tragedy.” Serella blanched, leaning back toward the bar. “Hey Uthen, put ‘Forever Lost’ on the orchestrion.”

As soft, somber piano music floated in through the device, the trapped lord felt small under the flat, unimpressed stare of the Warrior of Light.

“This...this little spectacle of yours changes nothing.” Lord Archambeault said, nearly letting out a relieved, haughty laugh. “I’ve admitted to nothing, you can prove nothing, and you won’t kill me because you’re the vaunted Warrior of Light!”

“I should kill you.” She growled, and for a moment, the fear froze him. Because she could, and no one would be able to stop her. “Of all the abusive parents I’ve come across in this fucking city, none have lived meeting face to face with me thus far.” She pursed her lips. “And you aren’t worthy of being the first to break that streak.”

“P-please— you wouldn’t—!” He sobbed.

“You’re right, unfortunately.” She sighed, releasing his arm entirely. “I can’t kill you— and really, you aren’t being arrested for this, anyway.”

“H-hah,” the shaken lord let out a nearly hysterical laugh as she stepped away from the table. “Then I shall have you tried for assault, you shr—”

“You’re actually being arrested for felony tax evasion.” Serella cut him off.

Lord Archambeault felt the color drain from his face.

“Wha—” he stammered, his mind scrambling to make sense of the sharp turn this had taken— for the worse, arguably. “You...you cannot be—”

“So you’re going to rot in gaol regardless.” Serella said conversationally, finally taking a pull from the drink he had ordered her. “I just wanted to make you feel even an onze of what you put your daughter through before you went.”

She effortlessly ripped the dagger from the table, freeing the lord to stagger back into his chair hard enough it nearly toppled over. Before he even had the errant thought to make a run for it, the doors opened at both entrances of the Forgotten Knight, and two halves of a whole unit of Temple Knights emerged.

“This is an outrage!” Lord Archambeault cried, even as he was seized and cuffed.

“Oh, I agree.” Serella sighed, rolling her neck. “This sting operation took weeks. Do you know how much shit we’ve had to do for this investigation?” She turned to the Temple Knight clapping the irons on the corrupted lord. “Take him to await his trial.” She gave the Knights a smile filled with camaraderie as she softened her voice. “Your tabs will be paid for when you come back, so end this investigation right, eh?”

“At once, ma’am!” The Temple Knight gave her a salute before carting off Lord Archambeault to his fate.

And thus was Lord Archambeault, head of his house, removed from the establishment: with his dignity— and a part of his sleeve— behind him.

[jentrevellan]

You're pairing of choice: ♗: One falling asleep with their head in the other's lap. :)

So this is SUPER late, but better late than never, right? Thank you!!

Read on Ao3 

- Shattered Dreams - 

The dreams that haunted them were sudden and swift.

One moment, Alistair dreamt of summer, the smell of wildflowers filled his nose, the sun warm on his face, a pleasant trickle of sweat on his brow. And a vision of a woman just out of reach walking before him. She turned around but he couldn’t see her face, yet her arms were open wide, welcoming and inviting. His chest felt light and he knew that this is what true happiness was when a trickle of her laughter fell from her lips. He chuckled in response, running to catch up, but she was always just out of his grasp, fingers reaching for nothing.

The perfect vision before him faded away, slowly at first. She evaporated before him, his hands grasping air. Confused, he looked around, the warm sun fading, the smell of summer vanishing.

The beat of the drums changed everything.

Spinning on the spot, Alistair found himself in plunged into shadow and surrounded by an army of darkspawn so vast, he was swallowed up whole. Genlocks, hurlocks and the like took no notice; passing through him as if he were a ghost. His blood ran cold, turning to ice each time it happened; numbing his senses. Once more he turned, hoping to return to the summer scene again, but was in vain when he saw the inevitable sight flying across the red sky. The dragon swooped above him, fixing its deadly gaze onto him, rooting him to the spot.

Although terrifying, it’s a vision Alistair had become used to experiencing, since before Ostagar. But this dream was different; the setting somehow new, but familiar. It was with a stark realisation that he found himself recognising the sights of Lothering - except that it was in ruins, and not quite the sweet but tired little town he remembered. The darkspawn gut out Lothering like a swarm of maggots devouring a rotting corpse; greedy and relentless.

He’s not alone with the darkspawn.

A figure stood beside him, arms wrapped around her as if cold. She looked up, staring at the Archdemon circling them in the sky, yet Alistair’s gaze is fixed on her and he wondered: is this the woman from his previous dream, the one laughing and reaching out? The thought unsettled him, as his dreams had never truly crossed over before. Lightning brightened the red sky for a moment, and Alistair swallowed a gulp when recognised her - the new Warden. Her long ashen hair flew around her face, her mouth open a fraction and eyes wide as they watched the beast high above them.

Without looking at him, her hand reached out, and he grasped it in return, linking their fingers, a warm sensation swelling his chest. Yes, this is worth fighting for, he thought, unable to tear his gaze from her upturned face. This is why we do what we do.

Rather than wake with a start, Alistair came to from his dream slowly. Any other dream of the darkspawn had him gasping for air, dry retching and skin cold with sweat. But this time he felt the warmth in his chest keep those fears at bay. A normal headache that accompanied him was still present and persistent as ever, but he found it somewhat more dulled than usual.

Through the canvas of the tent, he saw the warm glow of the campfire, concluding that it must still be the night. He stood, stretched and poked his head out of the tent. Leliana day by the fire, sharpening her arrows but otherwise keeping a silent vigil. He threw on a shirt and breeches, not bothering with his armour, although habit forced him to attach his short sword to his hip, just in case.

“I’ll take over if you like,” Alistair said, approaching Leliana and sitting next to her on the log by the fire.

She glanced at the sky. “I’ve a few more hours of my watch left,” she replied with a frown.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ll be getting much more sleep tonight,” he shrugged, offering a lopsided smile.

Her eyes narrowed. “Hmm, if you say so. I wonder-”

She was cut off when they both heard a scream coming from another tent. Leliana swiftly stood and nocked an arrow just in case but Alistair shook his head.

“It’s alright - I’m guessing Reilyn had the same dream I did.”

Leliana looked between him and the tent before relaxing when Reilyn herself stepped out. He couldn’t help but watch as the mage pulled her long ashen hair into a loose, messy bun, her delightful pointed ears peeking through the strands.

“You like her, no?” The bard said in a low voice.

Yes, but Alistair didn’t give Leliana an answer as Reilyn looked across at them to see them watching her. She smiled hesitantly before slowly walking towards them, her arms wrapped around her shoulders like they had been in his dream.

“I didn’t wake you both, did I?” She asked apologetically.

“No, no,” Alistair said quickly, getting to his feet to greet her. “I was just relieving Leliana of her watch.”

Leliana looked at Alistair knowingly and offered a small smile. “Indeed - I shall see you both in the morning.”

Reilyn bade Leliana goodnight and sat down on the log next to where Alistair stood. In a moment of uncertainty, he found himself looking at her - properly looking at her small mouth, her thick lashes, the smattering of light freckles on her nose and cheeks. It dawned on him that the woman just out of reach in his dream before it went dark was her.

“If there’s something on my face, I’d rather you tell me than stare,” she mumbled with a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He blinked before he scratched his head and elected to sit on the grass beside her. That way, there would be less temptation to accidentally bump knees or touch her, as much as he may want have wanted to.

“Hmm? Sorry - just thinking about the dream,” he said smoothly. He silently praised himself for his quick thinking.

She sighed, not needing to ask about what dream he’s referring to. “Me too. I never expected they would be this vivid and exhausting. You saw the archdemon too?”

“Yes… although this dream was different… somehow…” Alistair trailed off, avoiding her gaze. Suddenly the grass beneath his fingers was much more interesting to look at than in her cool blue eyes.

An awkward silence fell between them, which he was reluctant to break. Instead, she leaned closer - so close he could smell her hair. It was at this inappropriate moment that Alistair thought she smelt of roses.

“But it was different…?” Reilyn prompted.

You. I saw you there, he wanted to say. Maker’s breath, all of a sudden there were a lot of things he wanted to say to her. Instead, he shrugged. “Usually these dreams are in a place indistinguishable, or perhaps the Deep Roads. But this time it was Lothering.”

She nodded sagely. “I had a similar dream - well it was in Lothering too. I’ve not had many of these visions so I didn’t think anything of it… I assumed it’s because that’s where we were and that’s probably where they are now,” she concluded, speaking more to herself than to him.

“Hmm,” he replied, wracking his brains for something to say, but all he could think of was her closeness to him and that if he turned his head towards her, his head could rest very easily on her knee. “They leave cracking headaches though, don’t they?” He eventually said, inwardly cringing at his clumsy words. Maker, why was it so hard to even talk to her?

“I’ve noticed,” Reilyn replied. “Although it’s handy being a mage.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I can soothe them with my magic,” she explained. “It takes minimal effort but works effectively. Here - let me try it on you.”

His muscles tensed as she slid off the log to sit beside him, their thighs touching ever so slightly.

“Oh, I, err,  you don’t have to-“ he began but she shook her head.

“It’s no trouble,” she smiled. “Just sit in front of me.”

He reluctantly complied and moved as she bid, ignoring the quiet glee in the back of his mind.

“Alright, now lie back, so your head is on the ground by my knees.”

Once again, Alistair agreed and lay back on the ground, facing the stars. Alright, this is okay, he thought. I won’t have to look at her from here.

She leaned forward, her face completely in his view. Well, shit.

“Perfect,” she grinned. “Ok, I’m going to put my hands on your temples - just say if you want me to stop.”

Never, he thought, swallowing a gulp. “Okey dokey,” he said instead.

Reilyn leaned back so he was gazing up at the stars again, his heart hammering. As her cool fingertips touched either side of his head, he forced his breathing to slow as he was certain that she would be able to feel the thudding of his heart and the effect she had on him.

“Hmm, you feel really warm,” she observed quietly, almost to herself. “I hope you’re not coming down with a fever?”

No, just love-sick. He resisted the urge to laugh at his own madness. What could be more romantic than a Blight with daily death and destruction?

“Probably just the heat of the fire,” he replied, though that was an absurd answer as the campfire was low and dim.

If Reilyn noticed she said nothing but continued to press her fingers to his head. As much as Alistair was enjoying the whole situation and the innocent intimacy of it all, he was incredibly uncomfortable.

“Everything alright?” She asked quietly.

You have no idea. “I, ah, think there’s a rock under my head - not the comfiest pillow in the world, though I’ve slept on worse.” And there he was, making lame jokes again.

Her reply surprised him. “Oh! Well shift up a bit and you can rest your head on my lap instead.”

Alistair hesitated. “I…”

“Let me just cross my legs… ok I’m all ready.”

He sat up on his elbows and glanced at her over his shoulder. “I’m err… I’ve got a heavy head,” he said, trying to smile, ignoring the tightness in his chest.

The corners of her lips twitched and not for the first time he wondered what they would taste like. “Don’t worry - I’ve got very strong legs.”

“Ha, I don’t know if they can handle this noggin though,” he laughed feebly. “Did I ever mention-“

“Alistair,” Reilyn interrupted him.

“Yeeees?”

“Relax. I don’t bite.”

Alistair blinked at her before complying - her expression was completely unreadable. Finally, he let out an exasperated sigh and lay back down, this time tentatively resting his head on her lap.

“My friends and I would practice this when we had headaches in the Circle,” she began to explain.

Alistair looked up at her. Reilyn’s eyebrows were furrowed as she thought of the task at hand and placed her hands on his head again. He couldn’t help but watch her concentrate, enjoying the way strands of hair from her loose bun fell over her face. He was not sure how he managed it, but he somehow resisted the temptation to sweep it out of her eyes.

“What was it like, in the Circle?” He asked conversationally.

The smile she gave him made his head feel light. Or maybe that was the magic she was weaving around him. In any case, she began to speak to him of her life at the Circle, her voice a quiet and melodic hum that eased him into a dreamless sleep.

He woke just before dawn and was confused as to why his arms and legs were cold. But a tickling sensation on his scalp made him freeze.

Alistair opened his eyes to see that he must’ve fallen asleep with his head still in Reilyn’s lap. One of her hands was in his hair, her fingers threaded through and stroking gently, subconsciously. In the other hand, out of the corner of her eye, Alistair watched as she cast spell after spell - a glowing orb, or a fist of fire.

He stayed still, enjoying this peace as long as he could until she noticed he was awake. With a start, she pulled her hand away, and part of him was disappointed she had done so with such haste. Wait… is she blushing?

“Oh! You’re awake!” She stammered.

He grinned at her before sitting up. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

She recovered quickly. “Are my stories of Circle life that boring?”

“I…” he fumbled for words, tempted to utter another stupid joke. Instead, he simply said: “Thank you Reilyn.” And he meant it, more than she could ever know.

The mage tilted her head. “Please, you can call me Rei.”

There was that feeling again: the tightness in his chest. “Well, thank you Rei. My head hasn’t felt this light in weeks.”

“Don’t let Morrigan hear you say that: she’ll have all sorts of taunts in response,” Reilyn chuckled. “And you’re welcome - you can make it up to me by covering my watch tonight, seeing as you fell asleep during yours.”

He stood and reached a hand down to help her to her feet. “Only if you join me.”

A moment of silence, and he thought he had been far too bold. But then her cool hand slipped into his.

“Alright.”

Thanks for reading! Likes, replies and reblogs are adored. 

[robotlesbianjavert]

rec your own fics

tagged byyyy @obstinatecondolement​

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

this is hard cuz i feel like i don’t write fic regularly enough to rec myself & wreck myself but i’m also vain, so,

i wanted to see if i could include any of my old ffn fic on here but all of that either, very much, shows its age, or i had deleted it :(

1. thank god for small favours (beast wars, rampage & quickstrike genfic)

Rampage had no friends amongst the Predacons. He did, however, manage to acquire a pest. Five things Quickstrike convinced Rampage to do against all odds, and the one thing he did readily. 

i am so ridiculously fond of this one? i gotta write more predacon fic they all deserve it

2. there’s a hair in my meta (community, shirley & abed genfic)

Abed approaches Shirley with a proposition that she will, in fact, refuse, thank you very much.

this is a short one but i think it’s sweet, cuz there was never enough of shirley and abed hanging out when there should have been. i wrote it cuz of a prompt from an old attempt at a community fic journal thing? idk i don’t do those often

3. relationship anxiety in a half shell (community, chang/duncan)

Duncan overthinks some things.

maybe it’s because this is a relatively recent work but honestly i think this is my magnum opus and it should be considered famous as pinnacle chuncan jealousy fic. i know that’s pretty niche but if you respected me at all you would praise it for being so good. guys pls.

4. no lack of void (waiting for godot space au)

Sighing, Estragon turned back around with a resentful pout.  “And you know for sure it was this star?”

another small one and i just really lazily titled it bc it was a prompt from three years ago but i’m fond. i’m kind of fond.

5. so much at stake (oh, bad choice of words) (mighty morphin power rangers, skull-centric, gen & pre-slash)

When a fellow student is inescapably afflicted in the fallout of one of Rita's more unusual monster attacks, the Power Rangers must do their best to deal with the repercussions.

Unfortunately, Skull was bad enough before he started craving blood.

this is cheating cuz it’s a wip but it is 100% my current enthusiasm and i think it should be popular even with ppl who don’t give a shit about mmpr. read it or you’re straight, essentially, thx

anyways i’m a cheating bitch. here’s two runner ups.

the costume fits just a little too tight (community, pre-shirley/jeff)

The day that Big Cheddar made her debut on the crime-fighting scene was the day that Jeffrey Winger’s life (that is, his highschool career) was ruined.

i don’t really think this work is particularly good - i blame that partly on writing it while waiting for my town to unflood itself - but i has some bits i’m really fond of and i think officer cackowski was the real star of it all.

i shall be miss seek (strange case of jekyll & hyde, utterson/hyde)

Dread tangled her gut, but Utterson forced her way over until she peered over the separation between booths, at the hunched solitary figure, and politely coughed.

this is more of a reimagining/adaptation than a fic tbh but it’s essentially a retelling of the scene where utterson confronts hyde, except it’s modern and lesbian bc i have very specific needs. it’s still a concept i want to work on again i’m just dumb as hell

i’m not exactly sure how many of you write fic enough to wanna be tagged in thi so either just like, run w it or be like “hey kota you bitch tag me in this you bitch” and you have to ask me exactly like that