#and i know my fics are entirely irrelevant in the scheme of things

[sluttyten]

I was working on a new fic that I was really looking forward to, but in light of recent revelations, I'm gonna be taking a step back I think

also i removed him from the member masterlist and all of his fics, excluding things like YIMA and the poly series which I'm considering re-editing to get rid of him

[nobodysdaydreams]

I don't know if you want to give your general opinion on characters, but I'd love to hear your opinion on how Curtain and Garrison's time in divorce court would go :D

Oh boy. Oh boy Milk thank you. This made my entire day! This is a fun one.

Okay, so it does to some degree depend on the show vs. fic plotlines I have for these characters and whether the divorce is purely business, a legal marriage done for tax purposes or to make SQ's adoption easier, or a once legit marriage that fell apart due to Curtain's scheming.

I'll stick to the business route, since that's what my fics and the show have gone with.

Warning: Entertaining but (slightly) long post...

This is also funny because like. They are both criminals. If they show up in any court, they will both go to jail. Neither is completely innocent, and Curtain's current defense in the show is that he unwittingly funded Garrison's evil schemes, but they still have a trail of evidence leading right to him. Meanwhile, Garrison's best defense is to claim she took Curtain's funding but somehow had no idea what he was using her inventions for, or she could claim she was being threatened into complying and take a plea deal for less prison time. It's also so unclear what would even go to who if their crimes were ignored and their case was examined fairly. Garrison would likely get the right to her inventions, but Curtain would keep his money and custody of SQ.

But when we ignore the legal ramifications of their many crimes and the possibility of Curtain and Garrison ever having an amicable divorce out of court where they each take what's theirs (because that would likely only happen if post-redemption Nathaniel tried to settle the whole Garrison matter quietly to pay her off and stop her from kidnapping his niece so Nicholas doesn't throw him out of the house. And Garrison is so mad at him I don't think she'd just agree to that), then we are left with only comedic gold for both the show and my fic versions.

Show Version:

Curtain would 100% cheat and bring in paid off witnesses who would straight up lie for him on the stand. He would. Even as Nathaniel, he might still be trying to do damage control. The show doesn't get into what history Nathaniel had with Garrison, Milligan, and SQ's birth parents like my fic does, so if we just go based on the show canon and that plot hole stays an irrelevant hole, Nathaniel would want this handled quietly. He knows Nicholas would never let him lie about his crimes in court, but also, Nicholas would never let Nathaniel stay in his house if Nathaniel refused to stop the woman who kept trying to kidnap his psychic daughter. So Nathaniel would likely try to handle it quietly like "here Garrison take this money and leave us alone, okay? Pretty please? I'll even pay to give you a new identity so you won't be blamed for the Emergency, and you can just leave us alone." But something tells me Garrison wouldn't go down that easy, and whether she allies with the evil sister or someone else, she would 100% be ready to expose all his secrets (if she can't save herself, she's dragging him down with her, you better believe it). Meanwhile, Nathaniel is scrambling, because he doesn't want Nicholas knowing the full extent of his crimes, but he also can't have Nicholas (or the judge) finding out he's paying people to lie on the stand. So the court room would be an absolute circus, with Nathaniel switching between going on the defensive of "ME? Crimes? I- why I was in the dark the whole time! I'm a poor innocent man! Just ask anybody I paid to be here!" and being like "Look Garrison, please just take my money okay, stop saying these things, my brother doesn't need to know them and neither does the world." Meanwhile, Garrison is hungover, angry, ready to rip Curtain to shreds, and holding nothing back. She somehow has video of the stand back dance and plays it in court- it's not even relevant, she just wants him humiliated. The whole thing is a complete mess.

Meanwhile, I just imagine poor off screen SQ waiting outside the courthouse with his emancipation papers, as he makes awkward small chat with Noland who's there for his divorce and keeps saying concerning stuff like "well kid, they say the third time is a charm, but as it turns out, it isn't. And as indicated by my presence here today, neither is the sixth. Oh...these alimony payments are putting me in so much debt..." and poor SQ is just like "oh...sorry about that" as he waits his turn.

My fic:

So I do give the character's a more complex history together. I don't want to spoil too much, but... it would be more angsty. Nathaniel would feel more guilt about what he did. The show versions of Curtain and Garrison indicated they've known each other for a long time (as far back at least until Milligan was brain swept), that Garrison is desperate to have her inventions built, and that Nathaniel is desperate to be liked and praised (like when he keeps trying to impress Garrison with dinners and champagne and gets upset when she doesn't like it). But the show doesn't really explain how they started working together, or whether they ever had a good relationship, even though they know each other well enough that Curtain knows Garrison's vegan food preferences and Garrison knows about Curtain's brother (while other employees like Jackson and Jillson don't). So I fill in those gaps. And based on the way I fill them in, it would really depend mostly on what point in the story the court hearing takes place, as well as what other character's are aware of their history and what their motivations are. And that's about all I can say about that, but as usual I would still like to sprinkle some comedy in my angst parade, so Noland would likely make an appearance at the court house as well as poor Jeffers, who is there to fight his 112th parking ticket.

[jellile-fics]

Lazy Day Afternoon

Fandom ;; Cats: The Musical

Ship ;; Munkujerrie/Mungostrap

Ship Type ;; Rarepair

Ship Trope ;; Opposites Attract

Word Count ;; 978

Fic type ;; Domestic Fluff

Maturity Rating ;; General

Summary ;; Munkustrap and Mungojerrie are spending a rare, quiet afternoon together at home, with nothing on the agenda but each other’s company. As Munkustrap tries to enjoy a book and Mungojerrie plots his next mischievous move, the day turns into a cozy mix of teasing, affection, and unexpected moments of tenderness. From playful banter to soft kisses, it's the little things that make this day special. Sometimes, all you need is a lazy afternoon, a little bit of chaos, and someone who makes it all feel like home.

The sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains of their shared flat, casting golden patterns across the living room floor. The soft, warm light bathed everything in a quiet glow, giving the entire space a peaceful, serene feel. Munkustrap sat on the couch, a book in hand, his expression calm and focused. He’d always been one for a little order, a little structure, and right now, with the world outside slipping into a lazy afternoon, it felt like the perfect moment to settle into something quiet.

But even in this calm, there was a familiar presence beside him—one that made the stillness feel like an invitation for something else.

Mungojerrie was sprawled across the floor, as always, his limbs splayed out lazily. His chin was propped on his hands, eyes half-closed in contentment, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. It was a look Munkustrap had seen countless times—relaxed, comfortable, and deceptively playful.

“You know,” Mungojerrie said, breaking the quiet, his voice laced with amusement, “if you keep staring at me like that, I might start charging for my time.”

Munkustrap’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile. He glanced over the top of his book at his partner, raising an eyebrow. “I’m just trying to figure out what you’re plotting. Whenever you’re quiet for too long, trouble follows.”

“Trouble? Me?” Mungojerrie feigned innocence, rolling onto his back and looking up at the ceiling with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll have you know, I’m a model citizen these days. Peace and quiet, that’s me.”

Munkustrap closed his book with a soft thud and set it aside, amused. “Model citizen, huh? Is that what we’re calling sneaking sweets into the cinema now?”

“Ahh, efficient planning,” Mungojerrie corrected, his grin widening. “You enjoyed those chocolates. I saw that look on your face.”

Munkustrap shook his head, suppressing a laugh. “You’ll never change.”

“I don’t plan to,” Mungojerrie said with a playful glint in his eyes, pushing himself up to a sitting position. He stretched dramatically, his back arching like a cat, before casually flopping onto the couch beside Munkustrap, his head landing in Munkustrap’s lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Munkustrap’s hand moved instinctively to Mungojerrie’s hair, his fingers lightly tangling in the unruly curls. The action was so familiar, so simple, and yet it made something warm coil in his chest.

“So, what’s the plan for today, then?” Mungojerrie asked, eyes half-lidded as he looked up at Munkustrap with that easy grin of his. “I’ve got a whole afternoon to fill, and I’ve got nothing but time and trouble on my hands.”

Munkustrap looked down at him, feeling a mix of affection and amusement. “How about we just… enjoy the peace for once? No plans. No scheming. Just… us.”

Mungojerrie’s expression softened for a moment, that mischievous edge replaced by something quieter, more genuine. He closed his eyes, leaning into Munkustrap’s touch as if the world outside was something distant, irrelevant for now. "Yeah... I could get used to this," he murmured, his voice soft.

Munkustrap smiled, letting his hand continue to move through Mungojerrie’s hair. For a moment, the apartment seemed to slow down around them. There was no rush, no obligations, just the comfortable weight of each other’s presence in the stillness of the afternoon.

“You’re the best, you know that?” Mungojerrie said, breaking the silence, his voice sincere now. He tilted his head to look up at Munkustrap with that same grin, though there was a softness to it. “You always know how to make things better.”

Munkustrap’s heart skipped a beat. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from Mungojerrie’s forehead, his fingers lingering there for a moment. “Am I? Even when I ruin your plans for chaos?”

“Especially then,” Mungojerrie said, his grin returning with full force. His hand reached up to tug Munkustrap down, pulling him into a quick, soft kiss. When they pulled apart, Munkustrap’s cheeks were just a little pink, but his eyes were warm.

“Alright,” Munkustrap said with a sigh, trying to keep his tone light, “maybe we can chase some pigeons later. But only if we don’t scare them too badly.”

Mungojerrie grinned, the mischief returning to his eyes. “Deal. We’ll be gentle with the pigeons. But I can’t promise anything with the ice cream truck I’m planning to hijack later.”

“You’re impossible,” Munkustrap muttered, his lips twitching with amusement.

“Impossible?” Mungojerrie repeated, raising an eyebrow as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Munkustrap’s ear. “What’s so impossible about a little bit of fun? You’re too serious, Munk. Life’s about breaking the rules sometimes.”

“And getting caught, I’m sure,” Munkustrap said dryly.

“I’m always prepared for getting caught,” Mungojerrie said with a wink, before sitting up. “But for now… we’ll stick with something a little less extreme. I’ll make us some tea. You know, to fuel our very serious and responsible plans for the afternoon.”

Munkustrap let out a laugh as Mungojerrie bounced off the couch, heading toward the kitchen with his usual boundless energy. The sound of Mungojerrie humming as he worked filled the air, and Munkustrap leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the afternoon wrap around him.

It wasn’t chaos, not yet, but in this quiet, lazy moment, it didn’t matter. There was something peaceful in the way they shared these simple moments—something that didn’t need any grand plans or exciting adventures to be special. Just the comfort of being together, in this little corner of the world they’d carved out for themselves.

The kettle whistled from the kitchen, breaking the stillness, and Munkustrap smiled to himself. The afternoon was far from over, but in that moment, it didn’t matter what they did or didn’t do. It was a perfect, lazy day, and he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

[daja-the-hypnokitten]

Jukebox reviews part 39! For context, see my post “A Project” under  this same tag. If you want to see a full list of his EMCSA stories,  they can be found here, sorted alphabetically.And if you want to see some of his drabbles, check out his blog at @jukeboxemcsa

Evergreen

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

2/3/2018                                       mc mf fd

I think I missed this one when it first was published (and no surprise, 2018 was a hell of a year for me), and I wish I hadn't. It's a lovely story of just how long things can last sometimes, when the mind enjoys them or has strong incentive. And Joe seems to have had truly good incentive to remember - and remember to forget. It's a lovely little story, and if anything I wish there was more of it. 9/10 spirals 

 Vapour

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

2/10/2018                                     mc mf md

This is a story that's more gothic speculative fic than erotic mind control; it fits more in a world of Dracula, Frankenstein, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, and Poe's many poems. It's a wonderful story, for what it is, but I can't say I exactly find it *hot.* It is rather worth a read, though, if you enjoy gothic literature! 8/10 spirals 

 Um...

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

2/17/2018                                     mc

Another induction, this one using um - such a lovely filler word - as a mantra that just pops the reader's (or listener's) thoughts, until it's all the reader can think. It's a good induction, and one I think that would be extremely effective on folk who are highly verbal, even if they're analytical. 9/10 spirals 

 Out of Sight, Out of Mind

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

2/24/2018                                     mc mf md

This is pseudoscience. It is *such* pseudoscience. And yet it's really well done and hot pseudoscience. The way she just rationalizes everything... I do wonder if Paul could tell her to remember him pulling off the sheet, and have that work? And I do wonder if Paul meant to end at this point from the beginning, or if he just succumbed to temptation as he went? I'd think better of him if it wasn't planned, I think. Regardless, while I wish we saw more of the process, seeing how she integrates things and convinces herself nothing's happening is hot enough to make up for it. 9/10 spirals 

 Queen of the Silver Dollar

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

3/10/2018                                     mc mf fd

This is an interesting story. On the one hand, it's definitely magical, but within that magic is a good induction that I rather enjoy. Using something that she knows Duncan is already intersted in is a master stoke on Maude's part, and a good way to see how close to surrender he is. It's a hot moment of inevitable surrender, and seeing how she uses the coin, and an abstracted story about it, is fair hot. 8/10 spirals 

 Windfall

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

3/10/2018                                     mc ff

Magic-type science, serial recruitment, and mind control that doesn't show the details of a slow process all combine into a story that just was never going to be to my taste. It's just not what I want in a story. But if you're the sort to enjoy someone who doesn't think she's been changed at all at the heart of a serial recruitment scheme, give it a look. 4/10 spirals 

 Never Ending

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

3/17/2018                                     mc mf md

Oooh, this one... such a focus on what's going on in Sandra's head, and sure there's sex stuff but it's almost irrelevant other than its reinforcement of the conditioning, the brainwashing that she's so eagerly consented to, to the control she's fantasized about. And the line of "she wasn't being brainwashed to trust him, she trusted him to brainwash her" is just *so good* and ... look. I like what I like, and this is a really solid example of what I like. It's brainwashing/conditioning and the process of hypnosis and just good. 10/10 spirals. 

 Xanax and Wine

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

3/24/2018                                     mc ff

... I admittedly got entirely too distracted trying to figure out how the hell this drug interaction would even *work.* Suspension of disbelief? what's that? In all seriousness, though, this one walks the line between being hot and feeling like a betrayal that would be an utter turnoff really well, for me. And the fact that they'd tried this relationship years ago only to have the very thing for which the medication was prescribed interrupt it? That's a significant part of why it doesn't hit as an awful betrayal. Seeing how Suzannah has gotten into Pauline's head is *good,* and I love the combination of seeing the process and also the depth of the process that happened pre-story. 8/10 spirals 

 My Happy Ending

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

3/31/2018                                     mc mf fd

Oh, this is an *interesting* contrast to "I Melt With You," and how different Jukebox's approach to the same basic subject matter can be. Whether that's the nearly 400 stories between the two, or just a different inspiration, something else entirely, or a combination, well, that's left up to us to guess at. I like this one better, it's more to my tastes, though it still isn't nearly in my sweet spot for stories. But I can appreciate the method and technique here more, and I feel like I have a better sense of the scene in question. If you like the idea of a massage parlour also being a brainwashing studio, well, give this one a read. 6/10 spirals. 

 Pussy Liquor (Jukebox)

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

4/14/2018                                     mc mf ff md fd cb

Oh, I *like* Eris as a superhero character, though she sure seems to bring less chaos and discord than I expect from her name. Still, it's a lovely story here, lovely mind control and still a happy ending. I enjoy the mechanics in play, even if it is rather more science-as-superhero-magic than my usual preference, and as always Jukebox's superheroes pop off the page. It's just a good story all around. 10/10 spirals

[queen--kenobi]

Okay I put this in a really fucking cunty way but.

OP can see your comments, tags, and replies. The OP can see everything on a post, as can anyone in the notes provided they’re not blocked by someone in them. I personally feel weird about replies because it feels like I’m part of a conversation that I shouldn’t be in, but I know that’s a me thing

The BIG thing is tags vs comments

If you don’t know the OP and the OP is not trying to start discourse or some sort of discussion. You put any and all comments in the fucking tags. You can ramble on about any kind of shit you want in the tags, I don’t fucking care. You can write an essay about something entirely unrelated to the post, and you know what? As long as that shit is in the tags, it doesn’t matter!!!

You do not put that shit in the comments. Actual comments are reserved for: fics, art, and something relevant to the post. Humor does count as relevant, that’s fine. That’s good, actually. Genuinely funny additions are the fucking lifeblood of the site

I saw a post say that tags are your inside voice and comments are you talking to everybody else. That’s it. That’s the vibe. Unless you are adding it for the benefit of others, that stays in the tags

Perse, you might ask, why does it matter?

In the grand scheme? It probably doesn’t. Right now? It matters because I’m pissed off because y’all are getting too comfortable adding asinine irrelevant comments to posts. I know there are a lot of twitter and tiktok people on here who feels they have to add something when they reblog. You don’t. But if you feel you have to, guess what? That shit goes in the tags unless it is directly relevant. No one wants to see an essay of an opinion about fried rice when the post barely mentions fried rice. If you have something useful or genuinely funny, that’s fine to add in the comments. Otherwise? That shit goes in the tags

Thank you for coming to my very cunty and probably gatekeepy TedTalk

Y'all. Y'all know you don't have to comment on every post to consider it worthy of a reblog, right? Y'all know you can leave it in the tags unless you're specifically adding something relevant, right??? Y'all know unless it's fic or art, it's generally frowned upon to add comments unless it adds depth or humor to the post. Right? Right???

[awsuntanz]

a ramble about helium chapter 4 (and dakota’s wonderful characterization)

its 4am, forgive me for any mistakes. i’ve never written anything like this before, aha.

All of these quotes are from Chapter 4 of @heytherestilinski‘s fic Helium!

The way Dakota (the author) fleshes out conflict and allows their painfully realistic characterization to shine is so...perfect. I find myself heavily relating to Dream, George, and even Sapnap at times. 

Here are some lines that I didn’t think would stick out to me (but did):

After a quiet moment, to his soaring heart’s approval, George speaks up again.

This entire kitchen scene portrays that feeling of having a conversation with someone who matters to you. Whether it would classify as something important to someone else or not is irrelevant- to you, in that moment, it feels like you’re holding the world. It’s soft, and tender. You don��t want it to fall flat. You don’t want to let it go. (This scene may or may not have encouraged me to say goodnight to a special someone I was thinking of while reading this).

Sapnap dumps the responsibility of the cart back onto Dream. As he walks past him, he says, “You suck at flirting.”

I really enjoyed the stupid banter between Dream and Sapnap at the grocery store. It not only served as some nice comic relief that kept our guard down before the conflict at the end of the chapter, but it’s also something us readers would definitely hear from (and say to) our friends in real life. Good comic relief is something that eases us in naturally and allows us to immerse ourselves and enjoy the moment while maintaining that element of surprise that keeps us interested :)

He turns away from Dream. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Dream may be less controlled in his emotions and impulses, but he is very open in sharing them. George has more of a filter on everything. Controlled. Not wanting to push Dream (or maybe even himself) off the edge.

“You wanted to this morning,” he says, low.

“Yeah, because we were in your house, not the middle of the grocery store.”  

Rejection. Denial. George’s response holds some truth to it, but comes off as a haphazard excuse at the same time. He doesn’t appreciate the way Dream pushes for that direct confrontation and frankness when it comes to approaching their situation (and honestly? Neither would I). 

George halts to face him again, with a half-whisper, “Not exactly the best place to ambush me, Dream.” 

I like the use of the word ambush here because of the strong negative connotation it implies. It’s as if he’s saying that Dream sought out to make him uncomfortable. As if this was pre-planned and intentional, and not another one one of his silly impulses.

Dream stares at him wildly. “I didn’t ambush you. You brought up your expectations, not me.” His voice grows tight. “Are you seriously still going to act like this?”

We’ve had enough of “Dream, why? Dream, no! Dream, quit being an idiot!” from the readers. This time, he takes that blame and tosses it over to George instead. Conflict grows stronger.

“Like I’m—I’m this stumbling idiot who forces you into every bad situation,” he says. “It’s exhausting, and doesn't make me feel good about myself, and—” He runs a trembling hand through his hair. “It’d be nice if you took some responsibility, for once. That’s all.”

God, I’m so guilty of how George does this to Dream. Taking responsibility isn’t very fun when you feel like the other person is constantly making irrational, immature, and as we’ve established earlier, overall impulsive decisions when it comes to what they say and do. We assume that the other person should be able to understand us- We’ve put up with them for all this time, haven’t we?

Realizing that having a mentality like this is toxic and draining to the other person as well is... difficult. It’s difficult to remember that they’re trying, and that they genuinely care about you too. The very same things that make them irritating are what make them a loving and caring person as well. It takes growth from the both of you to learn and understand each other. And growth takes time.

It’s 4AM at the time I’m writing this, and I’m far too tired to quote the entire phone scene, so I’m going to assume you’ve read it. 

A few lines from George:

“Can...can you stay on, for a bit? Can we just talk?”

“Please, Dream.”

“I just want to hear your voice.”

A few lines from Dream:

“George.”

“Stop,” he warned. “Stop that.”

“Don’t say that.”  //  “What is wrong with you?”

“Fuck, George. Why are you doing this to me?”

The reason Dream brings this up is because it highlights a moment where their general character roles in the fic are switched. In this scenario, it highlights a moment of hypocrisy. George is desperate, and vulnerable. The phone call dialogue showcases him doing something that he knows he shouldn’t be doing. “Can we not talk about this? Can we pretend this phone call didn’t happen?”

Now, plenty of ugly nights and long weeks later, he steps closer to George in the grocery aisle as an unconcerned passerby skirts around their cart and conflict.  

I’m not sure why I like this line. It feels like a gentle reminder that in the grand scheme of things, your conflict is small. Insignificant to the rest of the world, mattering to you two and only you two. Makes everything a bit more personal, I guess.

He looms over him, wishing he could melt the bristling anger from his brown eyes, and wishing he had it in himself to be angry, too.

I relate to both sides of this. That gut-wrenching feeling of not being able to find your own anger at someone who is angry at you. The feeling of knowing that your anger is frustrating and hurting someone else, too. Either way, it feels absolutely terrible.

“You called me,” Dream recounts, even though he can tell George remembers it as vividly as he. “You talked to me.” He lets out a short, frustrated breath. “Then you got mad at me the next morning, and iced me out.”

Doing the same thing that you hated the other person for doing, and taking it out on them afterwards. Yeah.

(dakota. dream. can you pls stop calling me out through george i would really really really appreciate it thank u) /hj /lh 

“Because you let it happen,” George says, but he looks more vulnerable than before.

blame game here we go againnnnn

Dream stares down at him. “So it’s all on my shoulders,” he reiterates flatly. “It’s all my responsibility, now?” 

“Yes,” George spits, his sharpness startling them both. He meets Dream's gaze, unwavering, and recollects himself with a deep breath.

 “Yes. Because you made it your responsibility, when you sent me that text.”

George was ready to throw that blame right back into Dream’s face. When I saw that whole scene in Heat Waves, I realized how much I related to George in that particular situation. I knew it would come back, somehow. George wouldn’t be able to let something as huge as that, something that shifted the entire course of their relationship...slide so easily. Even with Dream’s eventual promise to work on himself. The whole time, I was thinking, “He’s too nice. He’s too patient,” and, “I wouldn’t be that nice. I wouldn’t be that patient. Not on the inside, at least.”

And you didn’t fail me. That final jab, although relatable- It hurt.

Now that the screens are off, the distance is gone, and the barriers are thinner than ever before, George’s flaws are becoming more transparent. We start to see other parts of his character that had only been foreshadowed in your previous work. I had no idea how Helium would unfold at the beginning, but I’m now very sure that you did not disappoint.

Seeing how you’ve evolved as a writer in both more subtle and more noticeable ways has been awesome :) I’m excited for the next chapter.

[mittensmorgul]

I think it’s pretty obvious that Dean was going to see Cas (even with the difference in time, his conversation with Bobby only makes sense if they were talking about Cas) and he ran into Sam around the way. The episode was missing about five minutes of content, which doesn’t make sense for a finale unless you axed a scene. Technically speaking, you can justify axing a Destiel scene if you think Destiel is obvious and the conversation with Bobby covers it, which is Covid’s fault

um... good for you for being able to believe that but... 

I’m personally just going with my theory that our connection to their universe just... unplugged when Jack dissipated. It was obvious to me that he’d “fixed Heaven” at the end of 15.19, we didn’t need to literally murder Dean to learn that i mean... it was just... so disjointed and nothing fitted together right like without being able to “see” into their universe, our writers just went by the seat of their pants to cobble together a random hunt to have Dean effectively slip on a banana peel and die just to “prove” that Heaven was fun now and not just memories like WE GOT THAT ALREADY THANKS.

But like... literally nobody cared about that at this point anyway? But they knew they had to end the series somehow so this is what we got? Guesses as to how it might end, with nothing actually feeling satisfying?

Like... the most satisfying thing to me is the fact that we all have room to write FAR more satisfying closings to the universe.

Like ones were everyone actually gets to live and ENJOY the world they saved, and explore what it truly means to be a human with Free Will.

But ugh... how utterly disappointing in the execution.

I’m hanging my entire love of this show on a glitchy black screen in the opening shot of the episode, Dean’s weird “It’s my destiny” and “I have no other choice” but to feast on “Dabb’s Pies” and having one of those pies smashed in his face.

Then randomly arriving at a murder scene to a hunt for vampires that cosplayed as skeleton monsters that we all thought were human until they unmasked themselves, only to find Jenny the vampire from freaking 1.20 there, and then she died without any trouble at all but Dean... died in the stupidest possible way ever? Like how?

Sam gets the Happy Life With Wife And Son montage and grows old and dies, and shows up five minutes after Dean apparently arrived in Heaven?

Bobby gave Dean an El Sol beer, which has ALWAYS indicated deception on this show. It’s the beer of lies, first introduced in 1.20 as the source of Dean’s entire “fake life” in a djinn dream. He was dating Carmen the El Sol poster girl, rebranded as a “respectable” nurse, ffs. 

And he even LAMPSHADED the fact it was terrible beer in that scene. Like he was openly acknowledging it was BAD.

And after the final shot, on the bridge, Jensen and Jared talking directly to the camera, and pulling back and seeing the entire production team standing with them just sort of capped it for me, that this was... that none of it was actually real in the sense of everything we watched before Chuck’s influence over their lives was severed, you know?

Like, acknowledging that what we just viewed was “just a tv show” as opposed to the epic story of Team Free Will. And on one level, I find that weirdly satisfying, knowing that all of us have written thousands of better endings for all of these guys than that. But also knowing that all of us aren’t beholden to network scrutiny and are actually free to write whatever we want about them, too...

Still... after how much of my life I’ve invested in this dumb show, I am just... profoundly disappointed that they didn’t at least give these guys a better ending than “well at least you can be happy in Bizarro Heaven!”

Because to me the entire episode just felt slightly off, and I’m clinging to that fact and using it to maintain my love for the entire rest of the entire series.

Because I do love it. So much. And I’ll forever be sad it fell short of its full potential only to stumble across the finish line.

But now? Now I have a bazillion ideas for fic that are all better than THAT.

(and exactly zero of those ideas involve Dean dying or anything to do with heaven...)

So I’m good with it. I have the episode’s own “backward” structure (with Carry on at the end rather than the beginning) and everything weird that happened in it to allow me to accept the understanding that it doesn’t even matter in the grand scheme of things. It’s as irrelevant to my love of this show as any other fanfic I would nope out of as soon as I saw the MCD tag. That’s all it is to me.

[officialleotolstoy]

Oh Danatole Brainrot We’re Really In It Now, aka Danatole playlist annotations!

I am NOT going apologize for making this. I’m not. But know I am feeling shame.

Nobody - Hozier

“I wouldn’t fall for someone I thought couldn’t misbehave”

This is a bit of a best-case-scenario song, but I really feel like the vibes are encapsulated here. It’s got the energy of “i love you because we sin together and it’s fun” and also “I have a lot of lovers but lowkey.... you’re my fave 😳” which is, as I said, the best I could ever see them getting to.

Bad Decisions - Bastille

“So we’ll make the same mistakes til the morning breaks”

This song is about being idiots together and also knowing it’s not good for you which is the vibe. Also the refusal to have an Actual Relationship in “love me, leave me, rhythm of the evening” pops off. This song GETS that it’s a more casual thing but also weirdly important to them. Oh and “maybe this is where it ends” can be interpreted to be about the elopement plan if you want to stretch it.

Quarter Past Midnight - Bastille

“Good times, bad decisions”

“Let’s go be stupid together in public and also maybe hold hands uwu”

Glory - Bastille

“Passing the drink from hand to hand, we admit we really know nothing at all”

“Let’s go get drunk together in private and also maybe hold hands uwu”

Nocturnal Creatures - Bastille

“We’ve only got ourselves to blame, again and again and again”

The whole deal with this song is like. We’re in love kind of I guess but like only when in certain situations when our guard is down. Does that make sense?? It does in my head. And the idea of it being something stupid that they both keep coming back to despite being aware of it really fits. Disclaimer I’m not trying to suggest these two are Deeply In Love I’m just bad at wording things

Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco

“I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you”

“You’re bad for me but we keep coming back to each other” vibes again. I don’t think Anatole is aware of how bad this actually is, he canonically has no idea he’s being manipulated, but I do think Dolokhov has a much better perspective on it. In my mind, Dolokhov really wishes he did not feel Anything for Anatole but. That is not working out the way he planned it, so a lot of these “why do I keep doing this :/“ songs are more from Dolokhov’s side than Anatole’s.

The Waves - Bastille

“Oh what would your mother say if she could see what we’re doing now?”

Look I added this for the Dolokhov’s mom jokes okay. That was the whole reason. I could very much see Anatole saying this exact thing to him.

Hell and You - Amigo the Devil

“Live with me in this sin forever”

Man the ENERGY of this song. The admittance and focus on them both being terrible people but enjoying being terrible together...yeah that’s them.

4am - Bastille

“You are my familiar”

The idea of just accepting something maybe not so great because it’s familiar which becomes easy which becomes fun...I very much think that’s how their relationship progressed, at least from Dolokhov’s end (You’re probably thinking “wow Wren, this playlist is super skewed toward Dolokhov’s feelings on the matter” and you’re right it’s because I hate Anatole 🥰). It’s definitely too forthcoming about actually enjoying the experience but oh well. Oh, and I stole a line from it for a fic once so it gets a permanent spot.

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

“You and me could write a bad romance”

It is objectively a bad romance, but the real reason this song is on here is that I always forget it is and it makes me laugh every time

It Will Come Back - Hozier

“Don’t let it in with no intention to keep it”

Man Dolokhov really said ok I will manipulate this kid for a lil bit for money and then seven years later he’s helping him plan some illicit elopement for no personal gain huh. Life is crazy. Basically this song covers the “you were not intending for me to stick around but I’m a fixture of your life now!” thing. I wholeheartedly believe Dolokhov never planned to spend this much time with the Kuragins he just accidentally got attached.

Mamma Mia - ABBA

“You know you won’t be away too long”

It doesnt work super well but it makes me laugh okay!!! The concept of being bad for each other and not really working well but coming back to each other for some reason anyway is there.

No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine

“No light in your bright blue eyes”

I heard the phrase bright blue eyes and smashed the add to playlist button, that’s it. But the more I listened to it the more I decided it could work post-elopement if you stretch it. “I’d do anything to make you stay” is obviously intended to be a romantic don’t-leave-me thing in the song but you can take it as the preparations scene if you really want. Not to suggest preparations is a romantic don’t-leave-me thing, that is very much not what I mean. “You cant choose what stays and what fades away” We all know Anatole wanted to flounce off with Natasha but in the end he was left eating dinner with Dolokhov 😔✌🏻 Dolokhov stayed and Natasha faded away hmmmm. Yes, purposely misinterpreting media is one of my favorite pastimes, why do you ask?

A Little Party Never Killed Nobody - Fergie

I don’t even have a lyric for this this is straight up just there for the hedonism/partying energy

We Are Young - fun.

“Maybe we could find new ways to fall apart”

This is mostly also just here for the friends/lovers at bars and parties living it up type beat. But the line “I know that I’m not all that you’ve got/I guess that I just thought maybe we could find new ways to fall apart” bit does kinda hit. It’s by no means exclusive but they do kinda have fun yknow? Also the awareness that they are falling apart rather than doing anything worthwhile or loving is pretty fun.

Fine Line - Harry Styles

“You’ve got my devotion, but man I can hate you sometimes”

Obviously Dolokhov would not admit to being devoted to Anatole, and I don’t think I can in good conscience say that he is, but I think he’s definitely more devoted than he wants to be. It’s more about the hate line anyway. I initially just added it because I was like oh it works as a fine line between love and...not love, but honestly some of the lyrics work pretty well. Now that I’m armed with the knowledge that Anatole’s name means sunrise, I can say “you sunshine, you temptress” fits too.

I Dare You - The Regrettes

“I never wanted to get too close to you but now it looks like I’m getting too close to you”

RIGHT OFF THE BAT this one gets it. That lyric is The Vibe. “You’re gonna fall but I’ll catch you” is reminiscent of Dolokhov helping Anatole get out of (and into) messes constantly, although in an ideal world it would be a lot more grudging. And not to harp on about this but “you’re the one that brings the sun” 🔈ANATOLE MEANS SUNRISE🔈

Nine in the Afternoon - Panic! At The Disco

“Your eyes are the size of the moon”

I did warn you guys there would be several songs on here that are only there because they mention eyes, right? I definitely said that somewhere. I am going to use Dolokhov’s bright blue orbs for my nefarious Danatole playlist purposes and there’s nothing you can do about it. “You could cause you can so you do” does encapsulate Anatole’s thought process pretty well though, I think.

The Mighty Fall - Fall Out Boy

“Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme”

Not Dolokhov constantly using Anatole for money 🙄✋🏻 MLM in more ways than one. But also the idea of falling for someone being a kind of defeat works well. Admit you like him, Dolokhov. I dare you.

Bromance - Chester See & Ryan Higa

“Bromance, nothing really gay about it”

Historians will say they were roommates. I’m sorry this song just makes me laugh and I refuse to remove it.

Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco

“You fooled me once with your eyes now, honey, you fooled me twice with your lies”

Rhyming eyes with lies is peak Dolokhovcore! And the ���Sarah doesn’t care, she lives in her world so unaware” is Anatolecore because he’s stupid. The bit about “my destiny lies with her” or whatever is irrelevant ignore that.

Fred Astaire - Jukebox the Ghost

“Those eyes, they get me every time”

The entire rest of this song is someone being blind to the other person’s flaws and initially I was like wow this doesn’t work at all and then I realized it could be stretched to mean Anatole being super oblivious to Dolokhov’s manipulation. But when it comes down to it, it’s about the eye lyric.

I Don’t Know Why I Like You But I Do - The Wombats

The title says it all. Literally that’s the whole explanation.

Daft Pretty Boys - Bad Suns

“I don’t like you, you look so pretty from afar”

If you don’t think Dolokhov calls Anatole a pretty boy (derogatory) you’re so wrong and I cannot help you. That was why I added it but the vibes of “you’re hot but wow your personality is terrible and I hate you” are there so. Enjoy! Oh and the bit about wasting your time works too, I can think of like sixty three better things off the top of my head Dolokhov could be doing than hanging out with Anatole, including but not limited to stapling his own fingers together and arson.

Rich Friends - Portugal. The Man

“I could really really really use a rich rich friend like you”

Do I HAVE to explain this one? I also like “Hey man I’m cool to lean on but I’m not your property” for them, if you stretch it it gets across the way Anatole thinks Dolokhov is His Friend but in reality. He’s using him HDHHSHDHDHBS Also the chorus has hedonism vibes, which ALWAYS works with these two.

[nautilusopus]

Why do you hate the remake? The ending?

AMONG MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY OTHER THINGS

AHEM:

the ending

the way everyone’s character is botched

this goes triple for poor cloud and tifa because they literally aren’t allowed to have either meaningful character interactions or character development because they CAN’T because this is the first five hours of the game stretched into 40 hours so we can’t get into nibelheim yet because we have to “save” it

the fact that this is the first five hours stretched into 40 hours and thus is largely padding

the handling of sector 7, where we go from watching actual people we care about die to seeing literally zero people die at all and also we evacuated the slums so it’s cool

especially egregious considering the game made us do so many stupid sidequests in the (way too clean and sunny) slums to get attached to these npcs only to kill literally zero of them

they still kill barret though so they don’t have to have him fight jenova with everyone else because he’s not a REAL character, let’s get him out of the serious moments. except they can’t kill barret so he’s back immediately due to time bullshit, great

on a related note, the complete and utter lack of any real stakes

the way aeris has fucking future knowledge

the way the vii universe, due to the addition of Fate, now has the judas problem. if the planet can literally fucking control fate why didn’t it just keep jenova from landing? why didn’t it keep shinra from becoming a thing? the only answer is that jenova and shinra are intended to do the things they do and thus are actually under the planet’s control and are not accountable for their actions

the fact that this is sephiroth’s motivation now or something, instead of the actual personality he used to have where he acted as a foil to cloud with his inability to accept unpleasant truths about himself and instead creating a grand narrative for himself where he has not been victimised by unfair and unglamorous circumstances and responded to this by making bad choices

the fact that fate is now a concept in this game at all and how completely and utterly fucking insulting that is and how much of a disservice it is to everything the original stood for on a fundamental level. a game that was literally about how there is no inherent meaning in some grand scheme, and that on a cosmic scale we are insignificant and the planet doesn’t give two shits if we live or die, so therefore we must create our own meaning, small and irrelevant to vast forces like the inevitability of pain and death as they are, and that the meaning we create with other small and insignificant human beings is nonetheless something with value, and that in fact it is harmful to try and pretend there is some vast cosmic significance to your actions and that there doesn’t have to be because your life having value to you is enough, especially in the face of something as absurd as the inevitability of death and pain, now has fucking fate in it. actually, cloud DOES matter on a vast cosmic scale! everyone’s deaths do! and in fact those deaths are unnatural and you’re going to prevent them! hooray!

this is yet another narrative, following in the footsteps of harry potter and the new star wars trilogy, that pretends to be about a nobody going on to defy odds anyway only to turn around and say actually lol no they were special the whole time.

cloud’s handling in general even outside of that. aforementioned lack of development aside, he’s simultaneously way too chilly and way too casual with everyone, with the most meaningful interactions he gets to have being shallow fucking flirting with tifa and him walking around making put upon faces with aeris

the fandom thirst over literal sex traffickers

the fact that this was marketed as a remake when it is AT BEST a series reboot that relies on you having played the og to understand what the fuck is going on half the time

* the utter lack of reading comprehension among the fans that still somehow think they’re going to get other “iconic og moments” remade. did you fuckers miss the ending somehow? about how we’re doing none of that actually? about how they’re going to Defy Fate? you aren’t getting those moments. period. the entire fucking game and ending is literally about that. about how we’re going to Prevent All The Bad Things

the fact that the above was done because they clearly started out trying to actually remake the gam, realised they bit off more than they could chew, and then went LOL NO PROMISES at the last minute with some kingdom hearts bullshit that would let them wiggle out of any long term plot commitments at any time (and also shoehorn zack in because of fucking course he’s here too)

pacing pacing pacing. aside from the atrocious padding problems, you’ve also got sephiroth showing up and mugging the camera every three minutes, because he has to, because this is the first five hours of the game so they need to cram him in there anyway regardless of what it does to the story or no one will buy their stupid game. also they drop the “cloud was never in soldier lol” WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too fucking early, jesus christ. good to know any kind of subtlety is just out the fucking window entirely now

what they did to poor sephiroth, easily the worst handled character in this whole mess. sephiroth sweetie i’m so sorry holy shit

whatever the fuck they were doing with cait sith

taking a big old fucking dump on any themes and meaning the original had in general which i won’t get into too much because it would take forever but you can read more about that here

how they handled shinra and avalanche, or rather how they didn’t handle it and made everything as black and white as possible

jessie’s thirst is extremely annoying and i’m over it

the fact that the fanbase keeps trying to simultaneously go “no it’s only the first chapter of course there’s no explanations” in response to pacing criticisms while also trying to go “no no they had to make it feel like a full game” in response to massive fucking story changes that only served to bloat the pacing

because they can’t bring up nibelheim yet, in this forty hour game (but still have time to go Zack Is Alive Now Also There Is Fate) tifa has no motivation or personality or connection to cloud and barret to speak of. also where the fuck is her anger, holy shit. she regrets joining avalanche? she isn’t

the fact that the fanbase is not only fine with all these changes, changes which again are being made directly in the name of profit to the detriment of good storytelling, but also are even pushing this as the “intended, fleshed out” version of the story they always wanted to tell but couldn’t

bad soundtrack, fight me

midgar and especially the slums look boring

the turks are good now uwu

no Trail of Blood sequence. again, pacing issues. this was meant to be your introduction to sephiroth to set the tone and establish how dangerous he was and how he was the REAL bad guy, but because we’ve seen him every three seconds at this point the whole sequence got cut and it was one of the best sequences there was

the fact that the interviews repeatedly indicate to me that they don’t seem to understand that not every goddamn irrelevant detail needs an explanation (a problem they seem to have carried over from crisis core so that’s great) but that they don’t seem to care about things that DO need explanations and that zero genuine thought was put into the worldbuilding

the way barret’s treated as a joke by the narrative when he’s literally fucking correct

the obsession with Realism (TM) to the point where it creates more tone problems than it solves at times (cloud can fucking fly in cutscenes but can’t hop over a two foot fence)

LET CLOUD BE A DOOFUS YOU COWARDS

about the only character that made it out with their personality intact was aeris and even she’s gone and had her motivations scuttled so it doesn’t matter, yaaaaaaaaay

i can’t fucking believe the remake has made me AVOID fics with jessie biggs and wedge in them. before it was a marker of quality. look what you’ve done.

cloud has an apartment now instead of living with avalanche in the basement. this is also done in the name of Realism but also kind of sucks away the charm imo and makes it that much harder to buy any of these assholes as found family

the timeline of all of this no longer taking place over like three weeks is once again a result of pacing issues. i’m sure this won’t bite us in the ass at all.

god remember when we thought roche was gonna be the worst addition? simpler times

also roche

and yeah the whole ass ending, complete with homage to the ending of ffvii period with the weird doctor who brain tunnel that makes no fucking sense to be here and is only gonna confuse people who don’t know this is supposed to be a callback, and even if it was why is it here, you can’t just fucking copy/paste Famous Moments with none of the emotional beats or writing to back them up or lead into them, context MATTERS did you fuckers learn nothing from the travesty of hollow writing that was ffxv and especially prompto?

the fact that people are looking at this fucking travesty and just assuming the og is like this too and not bothering to play it either because they loved the remake (for some reason???) or because they hated it and now wouldn’t play the og if their life depended on it, which breaks my heart most of all. “the original is still there!!!” is a meaningless overture if people refuse to engage critically with it on any level at all, which as we’ve outlined is absolutely what is happening. this is what people meant when we said the remake would erase the og, and on multiple levels, whether it’s people assuming the og was always meant to be like this, or seeing no reason to play it, or once again failing to recognise what the remake very loudly screams in your face it’s doing and assuming that of course we’re getting a vii remake with all those moments we care about, this is what has been happening.

i can’t even fucking imagine what the northern crater scene is gonna look like now, IF we get one at all. and that’s a big fucking if

i know i’ve missed a lot of them but i hope this helps

[wolfandwild]

My Shadowlands Wish List

Now that we’re getting closer and closer to pre-patch and the inevitable launch of the expansion, I thought I’d rattle off a wish list of things I hope we get to see in Shadowlands, largely from a lore/story perspective. (Or rather, my stupid foot was hurting so badly I couldn’t concentrate on writing my fic properly, so I decided to ramble off some not-so-hot takes, honestly they’re pretty mild in the grand scheme of things). I was in the first alpha wave, so I’ve had a pretty good opportunity to play the game as it is thus far, and I did want to make it clear up front that I’m fully aboard the hype train. Shadowlands is looking like a great expansion for a number of different reasons, and while I do have a few areas of concern, on the whole I am currently feeling very positive. Please also note these are just my random, late-night personal musings - your mileage may vary, and that’s a-okay.  Mild Shadowlands spoilers below the cut.

You Get A Customisation! You Get A Customisation! Everybody Gets A Customisation! This one is pretty much a no-brainer. I don’t necessarily think Blizzard need to have absolutely every possible character customisation ready to go before launch, but I’d like them to continue adding further options over time. I move in a couple of different circles in Warcraft - I’m obviously involved in the writing/lore/character aspect of the game, but I’m also GM of a raiding guild and closely follow the gameplay/competitive side of things too - and customisation is one of those few things that gets everyone excited, regardless of their reason for playing the game. I’m looking forward to seeing a much more vibrant, unique and diverse Azeroth come Shadowlands pre-patch. (Mostly irrelevant side story - when Wrathion returned in the Patch 8.3 cinematics, my Twitter and lore Discords were basically going berserk with excitement, meanwhile there’s a hundred very confused dudes in my raiding guild who don’t read quest text being all, “What the hell is a ‘Wrathion’?”. I live in two different worlds, honestly). Another reason I’m excited about customisation (and I’m probably in a very small minority on this one) is because I actually really dislike allied races, and I think it gives Blizzard an option to add more flavour to character creation in the game without always having to cobble together a new race. I honestly think they should have simply gone for sub-race customisation from the beginning, to avoid having to ass-pull allied races out of nowhere. Using customisation over allied races also makes it far simpler to give something to both factions (e.g. high elves), or to add something for one faction without necessarily having to always add something to the other faction to keep things in balance. Giving an extra hairstyle to humans but not orcs generally isn’t going to cause that much of a fuss, but if one faction were given an allied race and the other wasn’t because there wasn’t a logical racial option, there would be a shitstorm of epic proportions. So you end up in a situation where one faction* gets saddled with a really random, sucky allied race just to be ‘fair’. *The Alliance. It’s the Alliance. Leave Britney Arthas Alone Arthas has never been a personal favourite of mine, but I respect that he has a fantastic story, and that he’s a cornerstone of Warcraft lore. His story is both satisfying and complete, and that’s exactly why they should leave him the hell alone. I don’t mind if he’s visited in flashbacks (like the Bastion cinematic), or if we explore how he affected still living characters (e.g. Jaina, Sylvanas, Bolvar), but I think it would be a mistake to try to make him a central character in the expansion. In contrast, someone like Kael’thas is an excellent choice for an additional arc, because his original story was a bit all over the place and there is still plenty of room for his character development. Arthas doesn’t need it, and I don’t think the minute potential gain is worth the risk of retroactively making the rest of his story worse. On a similar note... Warcraft III Was Released Nearly 20 Years Ago, It’s Time to Move On The Warcraft RTS was a landmark series of games, and was obviously without them we wouldn’t have the World of Warcraft. However, I think the future health of Warcraft’s lore depends on the ability of the writers to grow the story outwards and upwards, not to always default back to the same handful of characters for nostalgia’s sake. While characters like Jaina, and Thrall, and Sylvanas are great, they can’t carry the narrative forever. Shadowlands represents a unique opportunity to build up the next generation of characters and to blow the cosmology of the universe wide open. From what I’ve seen on the alpha/beta, Blizzard are definitely taking a step in this direction, and I’m hoping that’s what we get instead of Patch 9.2 - Oh Look, It’s Thrall Again. On an additionally similar note... Sylvanas Is Crazy, And She Needs To Go Down (I don’t actually think she’s crazy, but one should never miss the opportunity for an Avatar reference). One of my complaints about the recent lore developments in Warcraft its that it’s starting to feel a lot less like the World of Warcraft, and more like the Sylvanas of Warcraft. She’s playing 469D chess; she’s behind everything; she’s the sole driving force of the narrative. I don’t think that works in an MMO that’s meant to tell the story of an entire expanded universe. It makes things feel small. And before I get eaten alive, I want to be clear that I don’t dislike Sylvanas as a character - in fact, I think she’s very compelling and on a night when my foot wasn’t killing me so much I’d be happy to get into an argument as to why she’s actually one of the most consistent and well-written characters in the World of Warcraft. I don’t necessarily think she needs to die, either, but I think it’s time for her narrative to come to a close to make room for other characters in the story, and I don’t think Blizzard are going to get a much better opportunity to give her a satisfying ending than in a death-themed expansion. Justice for Tyrande (Or Vengeance, Whatever Uther Wants to Call It) Tyrande got done dirty in Battle for Azeroth, probably more than any other character. I’m not a massive night elf fangirl by any means, but their entire race was basically used as grist for the mill in Sad Orc Dad’s story, with no next to no narrative follow-up besides a cool cinematic that went absolutely nowhere in game. Outside the game, her character then got subjected to the cacophonous misogynistic crowing of the fanbase that occurs whenever a female character dares to be angry in the World of Warcraft. Much like Jaina, she’s decried for being ‘crazy’ or ‘irrational’ for, you know, being pissed that her people and her homeland were wiped out in an act of wildly disproportional aggression. I don’t know about you guys, but that would tend to make me a wee bit testy, but maybe I’m crazy and irrational too. In any case, I want to see her go off in Shadowlands. Fuck ‘em up, girlfriend. You Get One Villain. If You Drop It, I’m Not Buying You Another One I think most people will agree with me that the two weakest expansions (at least from a narrative perspective) were Warlords of Draenor and Battle for Azeroth. There are a few reasons for this, but for me one of the biggest issues was that they were chop-and-change expansions. Both were advertised and started off with narratives and themes that were wildly different from where they finished up. Warlords was part Iron Horde expansion, part Legion expansion; BFA was part faction war expansion, part Old God expansion... and that’s exactly the problem. Both times, I felt like we got two half-done expansions, instead of one single, cohesive narrative experience.  If you look at expansions like Wrath of the Lich King and Legion, both of which were very well received, a lot of their success hinges on their presentation of a consistent narrative with a clear goal for players within the story. The Lich King, for example, was a consistent and very present villain. He menaced you throughout your entire journey, and so his eventual defeat on top of Icecrown Citadel was meaningful and impactful. Defeating N’Zoth, by contrast, felt pretty hollow, as we hadn’t had enough narrative build up to really care about taking him down. Part of the reason I’m excited for Shadowlands is it looks like we’re getting a nice, focused story development that builds up to a logical and satisfying villain in the Jailer. Why Can’t We Be Friends? Look, I bleed blue. I love the Alliance... but the faction war should not continue to be a driving narrative element in the World of Warcraft. I don’t want the factions to be removed, I think they’re a core part of the Warcraft experience and I’d be pretty sad to have to let them go entirely, but the cycle of hating one another then teaming up in an uneasy alliance in order to defeat a bigger bad, only to go back to being at one another’s throats the next day is... tiresome.

Ideally, the war would have ended after Legion - it was the most logical place to do so, and I think it was a big missed opportunity that they ran with Battle for Azeroth immediately afterwards. Unfortunately, I think this means the Alliance is going to just have to forgive and forget, which doesn’t really make a lot sense at this point given everything that happened in BFA, but for the sake of the overall story, it might be a necessary sacrifice. That said... I Am Once Again Asking for Alliance Narrative Agency I know there are a lot of (valid) complaints to be had about the Horde storyline, but the one thing the Horde has always had over the Alliance is that they actually get to drive the narrative forward. The Alliance are pretty much exclusively reactionary, and in a lot of ways are side characters to the main Horde storyline. I’ve made this argument elsewhere, but it honestly wouldn’t be too hard to remove Anduin’s part in Saurfang’s storyline in Battle for Azeroth and have it turn out more or less exactly the same way... which says a lot about the importance of the Alliance in the overall storyline. In short, the Alliance are secondary players at best, and downright irrelevant at worst. One of my biggest hopes for Shadowlands is that we’ll actually get to see some Alliance narrative agency. To be clear, however, this does not mean a simple rehashing of Horde conflicts with a blue coat of paint. Alliance stories are not Horde stories, and nor should they be. Having an Alliance leader turn into a genocidal despot is not the only way to create conflict or agency in the story - there are plenty of opportunities for character growth, development and conflict on the Alliance side without having to have one of our leaders do a heel turn (e.g. Tyrande as the Night Warrior, Anduin dealing with his experience in the Maw, Jaina confronting the fates of people like Kael’thas and Arthas, Taelia meeting her father, etc.), and I really hope we get to see some of those narrative threads come to fruition. I Want to Mount Everything Add a hundred new mounts. Two hundred. A pot plant with googly eyes, the four hundredth Alliance horse, your mum. I’ll ride anything; I don’t even care. (Please note this is the most important opinion I have).

[emberphantom]

Concept: Mac isn’t really in love with Dennis. He’s been faking the entire time as part of a bet/experiment as to whether or not he can make Dennis fall in love with him. As soon as Dennis confesses his feelings, the experiment will end and he’ll be debriefed. (Alternatively, everyone Dennis hasn’t known since school is actually an actor playing characters written by Dee and it’s all a Truman show situation to see how far they can push Dennis.)

I...wow. I totally think either scenario would COMPLETELY break Dennis. Dude is hanging by a very loose thread at all times to begin with but finding out most of everything in his life has been a complete lie? He'd snap. I mean look what happened in Broke Dee. That wasn't even supposed to be a prank on him and it fucked him up. 

Okay and let's talk about the first one because that's super fucked up but I'm kinda living for it? It's definitely a role reversal for Mac and Dennis. Tbh I cannot see current Mac doing something like this but young Mac (s1-5), I'd buy it. 

BUT there’s also no way Mac doesn’t fall in love with Dennis in the process and then feel guilty about the whole thing only to call it off once things get Too Real. 

And whoops my hand slipped and I wrote another mini fic: 

Him and Dee made the bet in high school because they thought it would be funny and Mac is all "Have you seen me? I could make any one fall in love with me." And Dee's all "Prove it." 

Charlie doesn't know the full extent of it because I think he'd probably let it slip to Dennis. 

So because of that, Mac has so be kind of subtle about it around the Gang. He turns it up a few notches when they're alone though. It takes forever. Like years. Because Dennis is stubborn and on a good day, has one (1) feeling.

Dennis graduates college, they get an apartment together. They buy the bar. Dee's wondering what the fuck is taking so long and Mac insists this is all part of his plan. 

The Gay Bar Scheme sets Mac's progress back a bit, and he swears Dee did it on purpose to try to mess everything up. Stupid bitch. 

It takes a while for Mac to get back on track. Dennis and Dee’s dad shows up one day out of the blue and actually sticks around. Mac starts banging Carmen. He sleeps with Dennis and and Dee’s mom which, he really thought would help move things along. It...did not. 

The turning point Mac needs comes in the most insane and unexpected way. They get held hostage by the McPoyle’s in their own goddamn bar. It’s absolutely batshit. 

There’s a real moment there where Mac thinks they’re not going to make it out alive. Mac tells Dennis he loves him, which Dee will argue later is against the rules of the bet, like watching Dennis’s sex tapes. Mac will tell her that there are no rules, that’s strictly for research purposes. He won’t tell her that, in that moment, he’d completely forgotten about the bet. 

Dennis never mentions it. Hell, he barely even acknowledged it when it happened. Mac starts to think God is punishing him for everything. He knows it’s wrong and kind of gay but..it’s a joke. And Mac’s pretty sure God can take a joke. He plans on explaining the whole thing to him when he gets up there anyway. He’s sure they’ll laugh about it. 

But Mac starts to notice something that makes him think God does have a sense of humor after all: Dennis starts touching him. Like. A lot. Like, more than he’s pretty sure he ever has.  

They’ve always been inseparable but now it feels...different. They hang out all the time and when they’re not physically together, they can’t go even an hour without texting one another. 

Mac starts to realize his evil plan is finally working. 

He sits back and let’s Dennis take the lead. Mac’s planted the seed and now he’s got to just wait for the flower to grow. 

He pretends not to notice when Dennis starts inching closer to him on the couch during movie night. He lets Dennis pretend to fall asleep on his shoulder. 

During Charlie’s musical, Mac starts to lay things on a little thicker. He acts like he doesn’t realize how this is all coming off--like it’s all just him playing the character. (The boner he popped on stage is irrelevant. His body was also in character.) 

Mac realizes he wants to kiss Dennis in the middle of a strangers living room in a house they’re trying to flip for a profit. Well--no wait. It’s Dennis who wants to kiss him, obviously. There’s no other explanation for it. You don’t just cup someone’s face like that, call them ‘baby boy’ like that if you don’t want to play tonsil hockey. 

They pretend to be a couple. “Partners in Real Estate and Partners in life.” “He’s my bottom.” Dennis won’t take his hands off him. Mac’s got him right where he wants him. 

That night, Dennis kisses him. 

(It’s about goddamn time.)

Mac doesn’t tell Dee. She doesn’t need to know. Not yet. He wins the bet when the words “I love you,” un-ironically come out of Dennis’s mouth. 

It’s surprising how much doesn’t change between them. Aside from where Mac sleeps, it’s really not that different. He’s just getting laid more and it...it’s fucking great. Mac thinks it’s probably because of all that adrenaline he gets knowing he’s winning the bet. 

Everything’s going great until Dee finally catches on. 

It’s a Tuesday. They just wanted a bowl for popcorn. They didn’t need Dee to stick her giant nose all up in their business. 

“It's funny 'cause I feel like you guys are two codependent losers who are so wrapped up in each other that it's hard for you to see how pathetic your lives are. It's like you're an old married couple.” 

They laugh at it. But, Mac can see the wheels turning in Dennis’s head. 

Dennis takes too long at the video store and that’s when shit hits the fan. Yeah Mac panicked but that���s only because he really REALLY wants to win this bet. And he can’t do that if Dennis is fucking some video store twink. 

They argue. Dennis wants to be left alone. Mac wants to know where this is coming from (he knows but he wants to hear Dennis say it.) 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what Dee said and I do think maybe we are spending a little bit too much time together.” 

Son of a bitch. 

Mac leaves and Dennis let’s him go. On the way to Charlie’s, Mac calls Dee and tells her that’s cheating--she’s not allowed to interfere in the bet. They had a deal. She tells him she can do whatever the fuck she wants then hangs up because something about her stupid cat. Mac stopped listening. 

He’s at Charlie’s for a few hours when Dennis calls. He’s a Dee’s apparently and Mac’s heart sinks. She’s going to fuck everything up beyond repair. There’s no way he’s going to win the bet now...not because he actually really misses Dennis. 

Mac’s resigned himself to the fact it’s over. The bet, his relationship with Dennis. It’s done. Bye. See ya. But then Dee calls him, and she sounds pissed off and stressed the fuck out. She tell him to be at this restaurant at this time for a “date with a beautiful woman with giant breasts”. Well, Mac thinks, at least she knows how to apologize. 

He gets there early and sits down at the table by himself. He’s nervous, which is unlike him. He’s a badass, he never gets nervous. Mac tells himself it’s because he’s meeting a really hot chick, not because he’s not sure if he’s ready for this thing with Dennis to be over. He orders a rum and coke. Then another. Because alcohol solves everything. 

Dennis walks in with Dee and Mac has never been so close to committing murder. What the fuck is she trying to pull? 

Mac doesn’t have time to ask. She leaves in a hurry, muttering something about getting a bird. 

“She looks like a bird.” 

And...fuck. Mac missed Dennis so much. 

They make-up and make-out on the way home. They invite Charlie and Frank over to watch a movie and once the Grusome Twosome leaves and they’re finally alone again. 

It’s dark, it’s late and it’s quiet. Dennis joins Mac on the couch after he’s tossed some beer bottle into recycling. He’s looking at him like he’s seeing Mac for the first time and Mac feels his throat tighten. 

Dennis starts talking, and Mac starts to panic. He thought he’d be able to see this moment coming a mile away but he’s not prepared for this. Dennis is telling him how sorry he is for everything. How he let Dee get into his head. How stupid it was. 

How he realized the reason why he panicked so much was “Because I think I’m in l-” 

“Dennis.” Mac cuts him off as everything comes crashing down on him all at once.  His heart’s pounding in his chest, ready to burst through his chest at any moment. 

He should’ve called this off when he had the chance. Dee definitely gave him a few outs over the years but he said No. When he made that stupid bet all those years ago, so young and so high, he never thought it would end up like this. 

Mac didn’t think he’d be the one to end up falling in love with his best friend. 

But, if he let’s Dennis say it, then what? They become a real couple? They tell the Gang so Dee can lay everything all out on the table. Tell Dennis that everything was just a big joke--even though it stopped being one for Mac longer than he cared to admit. Mac could deny his part in the whole thing, but Dennis would believe him. 

So Mac has to let him off the hook now, by crushing his best friend’s heart into dust. 

“I think Dee was right,” Mac says finally. He can’t even look Dennis in the eye.  “I can’t--I don’t think we should do this anymore...” 

To drive the final nail into the coffin, he adds, “Plus, y’know I’m not even gay.” 

Dennis doesn’t say anything for a long time. Mac shrugs and tells him “Sorry.” Then he gets up and goes to his room, shutting the door behind him. 

He calls Dee to tell him the bet’s off. To his surprise, she let’s him off the hook. Tells him it was about time he admitted defeat after all these years. Mac calls her a bird and hangs up. That night he goes to sleep alone. 

The next day at the bar, Dennis unveils the D.E.N.N.I.S. System. It’s a low blow, but Mac deserves it. 

They don’t check in much anymore. On movie night, the stick to their corners of the couch. Dennis marries Maureen Ponderosa and Mac thinks that means he’s off the hook. 

Until they’re wasted and dancing and giggling back in their apartment and it feels like old times except Dennis’s wife is there. And he turns but then says to Mac, “I don’t love you Maureen. I...I never loved you.” 

And Mac thanks God he called off the bet. 

[kpopficsincorporated]

What Do You Want From Me?

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Rating: M

Genre: Romance, friends to lovers!au, college!au

Warnings: Smut (yeah…), unprotected sex (ALWAYS WEAR PROTECTION KIDS), praise kink, oral (m receiving), fingering, squirting,

Words: 5685

A/N: WAS PREVIOUSLY ON KPOPFICINCS - THIS IS A REPOST. We decided to make an entire new blog. The previous post will have a link to this one. Sorry for the inconvenience.

- This is our first fic! We hope you like it. I had to have help from Bby Jay on the smut lol. Our requests and asks are open. 

UPDATE 9/9/20: Due to recent events, I have removed Woojin from this fic. I don’t support that kind of behavior. I refuse to support that kind of behavior. I updated this fic in light of that, and if there are still new people who want to read this, they can. I don’t think anyone is really reading this anymore, but I still wanted to remove him from my story. Thanks for your time.  -Sam

----

“How about we about we place a bet this time. The first two people who go out of their chips gets a favor from one of the two losers,” your friend Tiffany was bold. You knew she just wanted a massage from Minho as payback for the last time you guys played games and she lost and had to give him one. You guys were currently at your apartment for game night to destress from finals week. You and Chan would be the only ones staying during the summer while your other friends were going home.

“Okay, what kind of favors are we talking here?” Minho asked, already aware of Tiffany’s not so hidden motive.

“If I win, I want a massage from Minho,” she crossed her arms over her chest triumphantly. You could see Minho trying his best to hold in his smile.

“Ugh, I don’t want to do that!” he exclaimed, but you were too smart for this. You weren’t as oblivious as Tiffany was to his love for her. She just thought they were both super competitive and so far, he had been winning their bets, receiving favors from her. “Okay, fine. If I win, I want you to go with me to try that new restaurant I’ve been checking out. And you have to pay.”

“Ugh, fine.” She only relented because she thought she was going to win this one, you could tell.

“Okay, Chan what do you want from Y/N?” Minho asked the boy next to him. Chan was quiet for a moment, obviously putting in some thought of what he wanted. You noticed Minho glancing at you strangely, a small lift of his lips but it was so quick, you swore you were seeing things.

“You know, I could seriously use a massage. My neck has been killing me lately,” he answered, turning toward you.

You tried to keep your excitement down. Would it really be a punishment to be able to touch him like that? No, it would be more like a prize for you. You have had the biggest crush on Chan for the past year. At the beginning, he had started dating your friend, Jasmine, and really that was your fault because you helped them get together.

But they’ve been broken up for the entire semester and you couldn’t be happier that he was finally single. Your friend did him dirty and cheated on him. She barely even put the effort into the relationship and you were no longer friends with her. She seriously mistreated the kind boy and your friend group no longer wanted anything to do with her after that.

“Okay, that’s fair. If your neck gets worse, you should go see the doctor,” you informed him and he smiled in return.

“I will. Now, what do you want from me?”

Wow, that was such a loaded question. You wanted so much from him. You wanted him to return your affection, but that’s not something you could simply ask for. He didn’t like you like you did him.

You wanted something else, too; something you’ve been dying to experience firsthand when Jasmine had talked and gushed about it. But that isn’t something you could ask for in the company of others. You quickly glanced at the other two who were watching you intently, waiting for your answer.

“You know, I’m not quite sure yet. How about we just say you’ll owe me a favor?”

“Okay, I can deal with that. Let’s play this thing,” Chan said.

The game then begun, and it ended up being a complete mess of nothing but laughter. It was a charades sort of game, acting out specific words from a selection of nine words. Each time a word was played, it would be switched for a fresh one from the large deck of words. The first one to go out of their five chips, wins, but in this case, the first two would get a favor each.

“Wait, how does Y/N only have one chip left?” Minho gasped from laughter, finally realizing that you will probably be the first to win. “Are you cheating and hiding them somewhere?”

“What? No! There was that round where Chan acted out ‘Schmoopy’ and I was the only one who got it because you guys missed the cute kissy face,” you laughed.

“You must have been watching him hard, because you’re damn right I missed that stupid kissy face.” Tiffany was fed up. She just wanted to win over Minho and they were currently tied with two chips each.

“How is it that Y/N thinks my kissy face is cute and you think it’s stupid?” Chan asked, completely offended. He had a dramatic hand on his heart to convey exactly how he felt about it. It was really cute.

“Okay, Minho, it’s your turn,” you say, not answering Chan’s question. Minho quickly drew a number and peered over the cards as discreetly as he could to see which word he’d be acting out. He stood from sitting position on the living room floor. He quickly schooled his features, taking a deep breath. Minho looked at Tiffany, smirked and started body rolling all the way down and then he started doing the ‘grind on me’ dance on the floor.

Chan burst into laughter and you shrieked in glee, turning to see your friend blushing wildly and watching him closely. You quickly glanced at the cards to pick  your answer and were torn between ‘freaky’ and ‘NSFW’, the words closely meaning the same thing as far as acting them out. Minho took his seat beside Chan on the other side of the coffee table, a wide smile on his face making Tiffany look away.

“Well, there’s two it could be,” Tiffany mumbled, intently studying the cards and not looking at Minho again, a blush sticking to her face and staying there.

“It’s a 50/50 chance,” you whispered to Tiff, debating which word to choose in your head. You looked at your number cards and chose which number you thought it was and quickly placed the card face down on the floor. As you waited for the other two to place their cards down, you took a chance to glance at Chan, smiling to yourself at his concentrated features.        

“Okay, ready?” Minho asked, looking at everyone and lingering longer on the female beside you. “Flip your cards.” You all three flipped your cards, but only you and Tiffany got it right. It was ‘NSFW’.

“Hell yeah! I got it right!” she threw her arms in the air in excitement, turning and giving you a high five.

“Well shit, Y/N is the first winner!” Minho stated, crossing his arms and not liking the chances of him winning the second round while he still had two chips and Chan and Tiff have one.

“Minho, you’re a freak,” was all Chan said in his defense for picking the word ‘freaky’.

“Way to go, Y/N” Tiffany winked in your direction. You don’t know why she’s acting this way; you’ve never told her anything, not trusting any of your friends to not meddle in the friend group. You just wanted things to happen as they would, not because your friends decided they wanted it to happen, ya know?

“Tiffany, you don’t even know what my favor is,” you sighed.

“Does it matter? He is still gonna owe you one!” You shrugged your shoulders, as if it wasn’t that big of a deal, but on the inside, you were soaring. You don’t know how you’re going to bring up what you want from him, but it’d have to wait until it was just the two of you.

“Okay, next round. Technically, I’m supposed to act it out. Do you guys still want me to?” You asked your friends.

“Oh hell yeah. You’re good at this,” Minho answered your question, while Chan took out the previous round’s card and replaced it with another. You quickly drew a random number card, checking to see which it corresponded to, an easy one in the grand scheme of things – ‘table flipping’. You quickly acted it out, and everyone hummed in response and chose the number they thought it was.

“Okay, flip your cards.” Everyone got it right, which meant that both Chan and Tiffany got it right. Minho was the only one who had two chips.

“Hell yeah, I won this round, bitch!” Tiffany exclaimed, jumping up and dancing around the room. You glanced at Minho to see him trying to hide his smile and put a pout on his face. Tiffany looked just in time to see his pout and started laughing in glee.

“Okay, do we want to do a tie breaker, or are you okay with both of us getting favors?” Tiffany thought about it for a second before answering Chan’s question, stating that she was fine with both of them getting massages.

The four quickly cleaned up the game, getting ready to leave.

“When should I come over for my favor?” Chan asked with a smirk as he was walking toward the door, Tiffany and Minho ahead of him.

“I’ll text you. Maybe next weekend if you’re free? We can do it on movie night while watching the movie,” you replied, referring to your weekly movie night. Usually, the night was spent with all of your friends, including Liz and Theo (they already went home for the summer), the only couple in your friend group. Chan nodded in response, bidding you goodnight with a quick hug as he left with the other two who were already arguing about something irrelevant.

-

When you saw Chan again, it was a Friday night – movie night. You were busy cooking dinner when he walked in without knocking. He took his sneakers and socks off at the door, extremely comfortable in your small living space.

“Hey, what’s for dinner?” he asked and you answered him, turning off the stove once it was finished. He quickly fixed you both a drink, familiar with your kitchen already, and took the drinks to the living room, turning off the lights. He set up the movie he brought while you fixed the plates. Once settled, he started the movie and began eating. Chan picked a scary movie, something you were thankful for. You weren’t like most girls – you hated chick flicks. You’d rather watch a horror or action movie over the rom com’s any day – but you were also an avid Disney/Pixar/Dreamwork’s (cartoons) fan, so you watched those movies as well. Chan knew this, learning about your obvious likes and dislikes over the past year.

You ate your dinner in the silence, only the sound of the movie filling the apartment. Once you were both finished eating, Chan rinsed the dishes in the sink and came back to the living room.

“Did you want to do the massage during the movie or after?”

“I can give it to you during,” you smiled in his direction, getting up from the couch to get the oils you bought just for this. As you got to your bedroom, you quickly went to the restroom and prepared yourself. You quickly changed into the shorts and camisole you had set out for tonight. You had already shaved every inch of your body before you started cooking dinner in preparation for your favor. You only hoped that he’d agree to do it, it was kind of a big deal. You took deep breaths and washed your hands twice. You grabbed the large basin from under the sink and two hand towels and a rag from the rack. You added your oils into the basin and made your way to the kitchen. You soaked one hand towel and one rag, throwing them into the microwave to heat them. Once those were finished, you finally made your way back to the living room.

“Strip.” You sat your supplies down, organizing them.

“W-what?” Chan asked you, frozen in his spot on the couch. You couldn’t help but giggle as you corrected yourself.

“Take your shirt off, you big goof. You want your neck and shoulders massaged, right?”

“Oh. Yeah.” You took a seat on the couch, sitting up on your knees. You leaned over towards the table on the right side of the couch and pulled the whole thing as close to the couch as you could get it so that everything was in reach. Your couch was deep, two people could comfortably sit one in front of the other on your couch without someone falling off onto the floor. You stayed up on your knees, spreading them so he could fit between.

He stood from his seat and took his shirt off, throwing the piece of clothing across the back of the couch. You had missed seeing him shirtless. His beautiful pale muscles made you want to drool. What you would give to run your hands – your tongue – all over his body. You could feel arousal spiking in your abdomen as you swallowed to calm yourself down. You patted the space between your spread knees, a silent request for him to sit there.

He slowly sat down, stiff and straight.

“Lean back, Chan.” You grabbed his shoulders, gently pulling him back to lay flush against you. “I won’t bite,” you smiled. Unless you ask me to, because I definitely want to bite. You took a deep breath and, boy, did he smell good. It wasn’t cologne, it was more like his natural scent, maybe the type of body wash he used, but he always smelled good.

You grabbed the oils, handing them to him, trying to focus on what you wanted to do. You started lacing your fingers through his hair, deciding to massage his scalp a little before your hands were covered in oil.

“Which one do you like more?” you had a personal preference, but it wasn’t guaranteed he would like the same oil as you. You had gone to bath and body works earlier in the week and picked out the lavender cedarwood, eucalyptus tea and peppermint.

Chan opened the first one, smelling it and quickly put the peppermint back. You smiled at that. You weren’t a big fan of peppermint, but you know that you could rub a little behind your ears to help with migraines. He put the lavender cedarwood back and handed the eucalyptus tea to you – your favorite.

“Good choice. This one is my favorite,” you informed him, grabbing one of the heated towels. “Here, is this too hot or is it okay?” He touched the towel, muttering that it was okay and you unrolled it, laying it across his shoulders to help him relax. He sighed, releasing a heavy breath, making  you smile. “Is this okay?” You pressed the towel in across his shoulders, massaging only a little.

“That feels amazing,” he sighed out. You picked the towel up and moved it to his neck, repeating your actions. Once it had cooled down a little, you removed the towel and put it back in the basin.

You grabbed the oil, pouring some into your hands and rubbing them together to heat it up. “Are you ready?” A quick nod of confirmation and you began rubbing the oil into his skin. You started on his outer shoulders, kneading the muscles and working your way to his neck. You were finally touching him and his skin was so warm. You realized that in this position it was difficult to get to some areas (your knees were slightly in the way), but you didn’t care. You wanted him close to you, so you spread your legs wider, pulling him closer to you.

When you got to his neck, he moaned. Moaned. The sound caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. It was quiet and breathy, something that you wouldn’t have been able to hear if you weren’t hyperaware of him.

“How does it feel?” you asked, seeking his praise, something you desperately wanted to hear. You wanted him to tell you how good you were for him. Woah. Did you have a praise kink???

He released another subtle moan. “It’s really good. My neck has been really sore and this feels amazing.” It wasn’t a big deal, really, but it made you feel so good that he felt good. The moans were already causing a wetness to gather in your underwear and you were sure if he kept making the noises, he was bound to feel it on his back. You grabbed the oil bottle and poured more into your hands, rubbing them together. You started at his neck this time, rubbing long strokes from there to the end of his shoulders and down his arms.

You worked his neck and shoulders for another twenty minutes, greedily absorbing every moan he made. If he denied your favor, at least you’d have the memory of the noises he could have made. You did this a few times before you ventured a little onto his chest. When  you looked over his shoulder, you could see his tantalizing abdomen calling out for you to touch him. You quickly went back to his shoulders before he could say anything about moving to his chest, but he didn’t say anything – the only noises coming from him were out of relief and pleasure.

You slowly moved back to his chest, massaging there for a little longer. “Is this okay?” you asked lowly and quietly in his ear, trying your best to sound seductive, not knowing if it would actually work. You’d never done this before, literally winging it at this point. You thought he’d jerk away, yell at you for talking in his ear like that, but all he did was shiver.

“Y-yes,” he stuttered. Stuttered. Chan does not stutter. Did the massage really feel that good or was it something else?

You took a chance anyway, going further down to his stomach, palms flat, and coming back up, lightly using your nails. There was a sharp intake of breath from Chan and he released it slowly. “How about this?” You repeated the action, without stopping. He let out a louder moan this time, the loudest one yet, but it was still quiet. Instead of answering this time, he nodded his head, eyes closed tightly, head leaning heavily against you.

You looked down, following the movements of your own hands, mesmerized by the feeling of his skin beneath them. You ventured as low as you could and that was when you noticed the small tent in his shorts. That couldn’t be what you thought it was, could it? Was the massage simply amazing or was he completely turned on by what you were purposely trying to do? You didn’t actually think it would work. You were eager to give him a massage, hoping beyond hope that you could somehow rile him up, a fantasy you’d been having since he asked for a massage as his favor. But for him to actually do what you dreamed about, was – and you let out a soft moan yourself. You could feel arousal flooding your underwear just from him becoming hard at your touch.

“Chan,” you whispered into his ear. He gently turned his cheek into you, as if trying to get closer to the sound of your voice. “I know what I want from you.”

His eyes snapped open and he tried to turn his head to look at you, but you fit your face into the crook of his neck, still running your hands over his skin. With your face right beside his, he couldn’t twist his head like he wanted to.

“W-what?” The fact that Chan kept stuttering with you was making you worse for wear. You quickly turned your head down, in a moment of bravery, and kissed the junction between his shoulder and neck. The boy gasped as you simultaneously ran your hands dangerously close to the waist band of his shorts. His hands shot up at that point, holding yours in place, stopping your movements.

You licked your way up to his ear, savoring the taste of his skin. “My favor.” You latched onto his earlobe, sucking and nibbling before moving back to his neck. You trailed kisses all across as much skin as you could reach in this position. He subtly moved his neck so that it was easier for you to access, letting out a soft moan when you started to suck a bruise onto his skin.

“What do you want from me?” Such a loaded question, really. But this favor had been plaguing your mind since you first thought about it. You’d been dreaming about it for longer than the week where it became a possibility. This was something you’d wanted for a long time.

“I want,” you paused, soothing your tongue over the new bruise on his skin. You unlatched your mouth, growing nervous as you were finally going to say it. Would he agree? Or would he shun you for even thinking that it would something he would do?

“I want you,” you whispered.

He quickly turned around, his right hand going to the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. As soon as your lips connected, he pulled away. He looked at you, really taking in the features of your face before he decided that it was okay to do it again. He leaned back in, the kiss lasting longer, but he pulled away to speak.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” he said with such conviction. You opened your mouth to say something – anything – but before you could speak a word, he was kissing you again.

What started as a somewhat shy kiss, blossomed into a fiery passionate one. Chan turned you around so that you were straddling his thighs. He moved his hands, one at the back of your head, holding your hair and the other cradling your face. You could feel just how hard he was pressing into your core and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a sort of giddiness.

Hesitantly, Chan’s hands started to wander down from where they were, caressing down your body until they grab onto your hips. Your hands were stationed holding his head, moving to pull at his hair as he released a hiss. Your body felt like it was on fire, his hands leaving you smoldered in their wake.

Gently, his fingers slid just under the hem of your camisole to lightly touch the skin underneath. The feeling of his fingertips on your skin made you feel dizzy, but in a good way. Your entire mind morphed into a black hole, void of everything except for the man underneath you.

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears so loudly, you were sure he could hear it, too. He slowly moved his hands further up your body. If Chan was trying to drive away what little sanity remained within you, he was succeeding on all accounts.

He broke the kiss again, moving his lips down your neck. You almost missed his sharp intake of breath as you pressed yourself down onto the hardness hiding his pants. You moaned at the slight relief to your aching center. Without warning, your camisole was pulled over your head, leaving you topless in front of Chan’s intense gaze.

You feel a rush of embarrassment wash over you suddenly, having never been this exposed to any man, let alone the one you’ve been crushing on hard for the past year. The embarrassment was short-lived, however, as Chan stopped you and whispered, “No. You are absolutely beautiful,” before proceeding to ghost over your breasts over your bra.

He lightly grabbed them, softly massaging with the most delicate touch. The moan you let out could have made the devil himself blush. In one swift movement, your bra was gone and in its place was Chan’s mouth and hand.

You continued to grind yourself into Chan’s lap, feeling like you might explode without some kind of friction. At this point, you’d soaked all the way through your shorts. Needing more, you whined a “Chan, please.”

As if reading your mind, the hand that wasn’t preoccupied with your chest slipped under the waist band of your shorts and underwear, coming to rest on your pubic mound. You shuttered in sheer excitement as Chan’s hand sunk lower to cup your dripping and needy center, grinding into it with his hand softly.

Chan mumbled a soft “shit” as he came into contact with your wetness for the first time. Easily slipping one finger inside and then two, Chan set a slow pace while continuing to grind the heel of his palm into your clit.

Reduced to nothing but a moaning and whimpering mess under his attention, you called his name out in utter bliss. You felt the taut rope in your belly tightening further.

“Ch-Chan, I-I’m—” and before you could convey the arrival of your orgasm, the rope snapped and your body felt weightless. Your orgasm had hit you like a freight train and you were positive that with all the times that you’d brought yourself there, it was never this intense. But if you were honest, you never went this slow on yourself.

Chan, watching your body convulse in pleasure and feeling the clenching of your inner walls on his fingers, let out a low groan of approval, continuing to watch you ride the wave of pleasure he gave you.

Once you came down from your high, Chan caught your eyes, looking directly into them with a look you’ve never seen grace his features. It was a look of pride, lust and, could it be, affection?

He pulled his hands from your shorts and chest, setting them on either side of your hips.

“We can stop here if you want,” he said in a genuinely kind voice. You shook your head violently, not trusting your voice. “Are you sure?”

You swallowed heavily, nodding your head. “I’ve never been so sure about anything.” He kept eye contact and you couldn’t take it anymore. You leaned down, planting a searing kiss on his lips. He wrapped his arm around your waist, turning and laying you down on your back across the couch.

You reached for his shorts in a moment of bravery, lightly ghosting over his erection. He let out another quiet moan as your hand continued to trace him. He moved his lips down to your neck, repaying you for the bruise he received earlier. The sensation caused you to moan, arching your back as you reached your hand into his shorts, grabbing him fully.

The moan he released was the loudest you’d heard from him, matching yours now. He sat up as you pulled his shorts down. Sitting back on his knees, he watched your hand squeeze his shaft. You brought one hand to your mouth, licking it so you can stroke him. He watched your actions, letting out another sinful moan. “Such a good girl,” he groaned and the words went straight to your core.

“Yes, I’ll be your good girl,” you moaned and you couldn’t believe those words even left your mouth.

“Oh, baby girl,” he moaned, quickly stopping your hand from continuing. He took your shorts and underwear off. “Are you ready?”

Just as he lined his cock up to your entrance, you held him steady. “Wait, Chan.”

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His brow creased in worry as he quickly pulled away. You smiled, endeared by his actions.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just, I know I should have said this earlier, but I’m a virgin.” His eyes widened comically. Yes, this is the original favor you wanted to ask him. You wanted Chan to take your virginity. “And before you even ask, yes, I want this. I asked you for this because I trust you.” You brought his face back down to kiss him, the sweetest kiss you could offer him. “Is that okay?”

He nodded, smiling as he kissed you again. He brought his cock back to your entrance and you felt it there before he pushed into you in one go.

“Holy shit,” he whispered as he pulled away from the kiss. Chan allowed you to adjust as he peppered your shoulders with kisses. “You feel so good – you’re taking me so well,” he whispered into your ear. You moved your hips, a way to ask him to move without saying anything.

He pulled out only to quickly push back in, causing a shudder to wrack through your body. You released a breathy whine. “Good girl,” he whispered. “That’s it.” He continued his thrusts and your moans grew louder.

“Chan,” you started as he entered you over and over again. “Chan, I need more. I’m almost there.” It was surprising how fast your high was coming. You didn’t know if you were ready for it. But you knew what was going to happen with this one, with it being so intense so quickly.

He brought his hand down to quickly rub your clit back and forth. He pulled out, replacing his cock with his fingers to rapidly thrust into you to bring you to your orgasm, your whole body shaking. And what you expected to happen – happens as you orgasm.

“Oh my god, you squirt?” Chan asked, surprise completely taking over his features. Once you’ve calmed down, you nod in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I should have warned you,” you sighed as you raised your hands to your face, huffing out a breath.

“That was so fucking sexy,” he said as you both try to catch your breaths. You laughed, not expecting him to be so open to it.

“Let’s see if we can make you do that again,” he whispered darkly as he entered you once more, only this time on a mission. He furiously rubbed your clit as he thrusted his hips against yours. The high came so quickly this time, you weren’t sure what to do. Chan changed his depth, thrusting into you shallowly and it happened all too quickly before he pulled out and you squirt all over again.

Your body convulsed, eyes rolling back into your head , the force of this orgasm something you’d never experienced before. He waited for you to come down as he rubbed himself in front of your pussy, watching it clench before him.

“I’ve never done that twice in a row before,” you whispered out of breath as you watched the movements of his hand, biting your lip. Your spread your legs as wide as you could, bringing a hand to caress yourself so that he can see. The second your hand touched your clit, your whole body jolted in oversensitivity. “Are you close, Chan? Would you like me to help?”

“Yes,” he sighed in relief. He sat back down on the couch as you climbed off, kneeling on the floor in front of him. You grabbed his cock, using the mess from between your legs to make it easier. It was now that you finally took a good look at him, the sweat glistening down his abs as he looked at you between his legs.

You stroked him slowly, keeping eye contact with him as you tried to help him reach his end. You quickened your pace, his moans growing in sound.

“Don’t stop, baby girl. Keep going, just like that.” You started twisting your hand slightly at the end, tightening your hand just a little bit more. You were truly winging it at this point, but Chan seemed to love it. He grabbed your hand, stopping your movements at the base of his cock as he came. It seeped out from the tip, spilling onto your hands and you couldn’t help bringing your tongue to taste just a little. The second it touched his sensitive tip, he hissed, encouraging you to take the whole head into your mouth. You sucked lightly before popping your mouth off, continuing on to lick your hands. He didn’t necessarily taste the best, but you couldn’t help but to swallow it all down as he watched you.

He patted his thighs, “Come here.”

You straddled his lap again, only this time in a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he buried his face in your hair, his arms wrapped extremely tightly around your waist. You sat there for a few minutes.

“I hope you realize that you can’t get rid of me after this,” he spoke lowly, but you could hear him perfectly.

“What do you mean,” you asked, pulling away to read his face.

“I mean that I like you too much to let you get away now,”  his eyes were closed, refusing to look at you.

He said what now? Did you even hear him correctly? HE FUCKING LIKES YOU!!

You leaned in, giving him a kiss. “I would never try to run from you,” you whispered, causing his eyes to open.

“Does that mean..?” he started, acting like it was an impossibility.

“Dude, I never would have slept with you if I didn’t like you, too,” you laughed and a smile graced his face.  

“Well then, will you please do me the favor of going out with me this week?” he asked, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Really? Freak yes, I will,” you kissed him again. “Will you do me the favor of staying the night with me tonight?”

“Absolutely, but first, I think we need a shower,” he laughed, as he glanced down at your bodies.

“Just shower, right?” you asked just in case.

“Yeah, I’m too tired to do anything else tonight.” He stood from his seat on the couch, holding you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He took you to the shower, turning the water on and then helping you wash your hair.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you were cuddled together in your bed, but Chan was already asleep. You snuggled deeper into his chest and you fell asleep quickly.

[gukyi]

i think your blog is absolutely wonderful just the way it is and i think that if you don't want to write smut, then you shouldn't have to. all of your fics are just amazing so with or without it, i think you'll continue to be talented and unique and yeah i'm rambling i'm sorry. point is, if you don't want to, then don't. you dont need smut to be awesome because you already are

also my last ask was not meant to bash on smut writers. i think different things work for different people. i follow blogs with no smut, blogs that are entirely smut, and blogs with both or somewhere in between and i think each and every single one of them are amazing (including yours)

dlksafnsd this is extremely kind of you !!!!! i have this weird irrational fear of becoming irrelevant, which is stupid because this is literally tumblr so It’s Not That Deep, plus i don’t have many followers as it is (in the grand scheme of things) and tumblr is just a pastime to me, and will forever remain a phase in my life. i know i will grow out of tumblr, it’s just a matter of when. so sometimes i see smut as a way to prevent this fading-into-the-sidelines business, which is ridiculous in its own right for various reasons. i should not be riding on the coattails of the people who actually write smut because they enjoy it. 

regardless, sex in all of its glory is just so gosh darn unappealing to me anyway, i don’t ever think i’d actually muster up the courage to write a smut fic. i did attempt, back in the very early days of this blog, but it contributed to my stress and also made me severely dislike the fics i included it in, so i’ve learned my lesson. i barely read smut, if at all, as it is.

[jesatria]

Fic: Simple Pleasures, Chap 4

Title: Simple Pleasures Fandom: Kushiel’s Legacy Characters: Isidore d’Aiglemort, Anne Livet Pairings: Isidore/Anne Word Count: 3,026 Rating: NC-17 Summary: The story of Isidore d’Aiglemort & the gardener’s daughter of Lombelon. WIP. Disclaimer: I do not own Kushiel’s Legacy. This is only for fun & no profit is being made from it.

I finally got this chapter done–it only took me over 6 months! I will try to not go so long without updating again.

Previous Chapters:

1. The Visit

2. Desire

3. The Harvest Festival

Chapter 4: The Triumph

         “That was some triumph!” Baudoin declared. He took a large gulp of wine. “Everything was perfect. I do believe I could get used to this.”

         I sipped my own wine. “That makes two of us. The entire scheme worked out perfectly.”

         “It was a good idea. We ought to do it again sometime.”

         “I’d be happy to assist you on your path to this throne,” I replied. That had been the reason for the entire scheme. I’d let the Skaldi through the passes at his suggestion, allowing him to conveniently swoop in and defeat them while visiting me at Aiglemort. Baudoin had always been ambitious and no longer bothered to hide his designs for the throne. The guilt I felt over betraying Camael’s sacred trust for his sake was quick to disappear in the aftermath of our victory. My father would never have approved, but he was dead. Baudoin becoming King would only be to my benefit.

         He put an arm around my shoulders. “I’m so lucky to have you for a friend! Never could’ve done it without you.” No, you couldn’t have, I thought but declined to mention. He took another swig of wine. “How about we head to the Night Court to celebrate?”

         I started at my glass, considering his offer. It had indeed been some time since I’d visited the Night Court or bedded any woman at all. My duties, along with the fighting and subsequent triumph, made it impossible to visit Lombelon. I’d been too busy to dwell on it much, though in quieter moments I thought of Anne. Could word of my victories have reached her at Lombelon? I’d not had time to write her during the madness of the preparations for it. “All right,” I said, “a visit to the Night Court sounds like the perfect way to celebrate. Which house did you have in mind?”

         Baudoin smiled. “I’ll let you choose this time.”

         I pondered the choices for a moment. I had only visited half of the thirteen houses and didn’t have a particular favorite. After brief consideration, I elected to visit one of the houses I hadn’t been to before. “I believe I’m up for a visit to Jasmine,” I answered with a grin.

         Baudoin chortled and squeezed my arm. “An excellent choice. Let’s see if we can outlast a Jasmine adept, eh Izzy?”

         I frowned at the nickname—Baudoin had an extremely irritating tendency to call me that when drunk. He never seemed to remember it afterward, because I told him not to use that obnoxious nickname more than once. Eventually I just gave up and tolerated it. Baudoin wasn’t exactly the most considerate person. One grew used to it after spending a great deal of time around him.

         We were greeted quite enthusiastically in Jasmine House. The Prince and the Duc d’Aiglemort would’ve been welcome any day, but today the entire city was fairly buzzing with excitement over our triumph. The adepts flocked to us and tried their best to earn our attention. Baudoin positively basked in their attentions as he always did on these occasions. I wished I could get used to such treatment, but instead I sat stiffly on one of their couches while adepts paraded themselves before me. I ultimately selected a woman with a figure like Anne’s, though she didn’t resemble her at all otherwise. I was not at all sorry to leave Baudoin behind when she led me to her room. Lying on a sofa with his arms around two adepts while a third sat on his lap, he’d be well-occupied for a while.

         The night proved to be a very satisfying one. I soon learned that all the rumors about the stamina of Jasmine adepts were true. When we were done, I went looking for Baudoin. I found him in a well-appointed bedchamber, reclining on a bed with the same three adepts from earlier draped over him. A flagon of wine stood on the nightstand. “Izzy?” he slurred drunkenly. “Done already? Don’t you want another go?”

         “I’m well-satisfied. I thought I’d return to my chambers in the palace.”

         “Why not stay here?” Baudoin retorted. “The company’s so… pleasant.” He punctuated his statement by patting the arse of one of his companions.

         “I’d rather return to my own bed, by your leave.”

         Baudoin waved a hand. “Very well. You can take the carriage back. I’ll be spending the night here.”

         I smiled. “In that case, enjoy yourself.” With those words, I took my leave of him and returned to the palace. I collapsed into bed immediately after undressing, my mind filled with thoughts of glory. They had cheered me at the triumph, as much as they had Baudoin. That was a new experience, as most people immediately focused on Baudoin and paid me little mind, even after I became Duc d’Aiglemort. No, they noticed me now, and I liked it.

         The next few days only proved that point. Crowds of admirers clustered around me wherever I went in the palace. Many were filled with admiration, but quite a few of them were obviously interested in me for other reasons. All of that was still somewhat unfamiliar territory for me. I supposed I would never get used to it.

         “Oh, you’re so much more handsome up close,” cooed a Namarrese baroness I’d seen at court before.

         “Thank you,” I replied, giving her a polite smile.

         “It must’ve been so dangerous, facing all those savage Skaldi,” she continued, moving closer to me. “You and Prince Baudoin are so brave.”

         “I am a Camaeline. It is my duty to fight the Skaldi.”

         “Of course.” She laid a hand on my arm. “But surely war isn’t the only thing you’re skilled in.”

         I moved my arm out of her grasp. I had no particular desire to take any new lovers. “I’m afraid I’m not giving any demonstrations.” I’d never been one for playing the game of courtship and sleeping with a good portion of the court, and I was not inclined to start now. The Namarrese baroness took my meaning and pouted. It did nothing whatsoever to alter my decision.

         “There he is! The man of the hour!” Marmion Shahrizai’s voice cut through the crowd in the noisy salon. He made his way through my cluster of admirers, followed by several of his kin. The Shahrizai always moved in packs. Melisande was among them. I’d thought she’d be with Baudoin, but on second thought he was probably still sleeping off last night’s indulgences. Marmion put an arm around my shoulders. “Well done Isidore! We’re all proud of you.”

         “Thank you, Marmion,” I said with a small grin. “I’m beginning to get used to the attention.”

         He laughed. “Never thought I’d hear you say something like that. When you were fostering with us, you were always more content to stay in the background.”

         It was true—when I was sent off to the Shahrizai, I’d preferred to avoid attracting much attention to myself. It had been hard enough fitting in with them when I already stuck out like a sore thumb. But that had changed in the time since. Victory in war brought with it fame and glory and I was beginning to realize I had a taste for both. “I’ve changed since then,” I said to Marmion.

         He laughed. “Come back with us to the lodge tonight. We want to properly celebrate your victory.”

         I’d been around them long enough to know exactly how a Shahrizai party typically went—a night of debauchery culminating in an orgy at Valerian House. One visit with them had been enough for me. “What do you have in mind? Baudoin and I already celebrated in Jasmine House last night.”

         “Oh, just a nice, small fête at the lodge, you and the family only. Does that suit you?”

         That was somewhat of a relief. “It would suit me very well.”

         “Then I’ll see you there tonight.” Marmion clasped my arm briefly, then took his leave. Most of his kin followed after him, pausing to offer me brief congratulations before leaving.

         “At last you have the recognition you deserve,” Melisande purred after we exchanged the kiss of greeting.

**

         The Shahrizai fête was subdued, as far as Shahrizai fêtes went anyway. It was a pleasant evening of dining and drinking and passed without any of them heading to the pleasure chamber. When it started to wind down, I took my leave before any of them suggested a visit to the Night Court. The attention I was receiving was certainly appreciated, but I found myself longing to return to Lombelon and see Anne. Had she heard about the triumph? Lombelon wasn’t far from the City and word spread very quickly. I hoped she hadn’t so I might tell her myself. That I’d let the Skaldi in the passes deliberately was irrelevant. I resolved to keep that bit of information secret. Only Baudoin and I needed to know the truth.

         Another week passed before I was able to get away. Ganelon summoned me more than once to discuss shoring up the border defences. During the conversation I had the distinct impression that he knew exactly what Baudoin and I had done, though he said nothing openly. He dared not take action against Houses Aiglemort and Trevalion. Our houses were too powerful and Baudoin and I too popular right now. The realm thought us heroes. Besides that, I had my own personal army in the form of the Allies of Camlach. No, the King would not target me openly, no matter what his suspicions were.

         I was glad to finally leave the City. Though I had enjoyed some of the attention and praise I’d received, I found myself eager to be away. It was, in many ways, the complete opposite of the City. As we grew close to the estate, I sent a rider ahead to give them some warning that I’d be arriving shortly.

         Sure enough, Anne was waiting at the front door when I arrived, along with a handful of others. She wore a fawn-brown cloak, which covered her from head-to-toe. Her face brightened as I rode up to the door and dismounted. This time I didn’t bother exchanging pleasantries with Bargot or anyone else; I made straight for Anne.

         “Your Grace,” she breathed. I noticed then that her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold. It was a very appealing effect. “You are most welcome to Lombelon.”

         “I am very glad to be here,” I replied. “I’ve been away too long. There has been increased activity on the border as of late.”

         Her eyes widened and she tensed. “The Skaldi?”

         I nodded. “They came through the passes of Camlach, but Prince Baudoin and I were able to drive them back.”

         “Thank Camael you were able to do so.”

         I smiled. “I’ll tell you all the details later, when we dine together.”

         A broad smile came across her face. “You’d like me to… dine with you? Actually sit at the table and eat instead of serving you?”

         “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t desire it. It feels somehow wrong for you to continue serving me at meals. I’d like you to eat with me.”

         “I would be honored to accept your request,” she replied with a smile, stepping forward to wrap her arms around me.

         Later, I seated myself in the dining room and waited for Anne to join me. It didn’t surprise me in the least that she was not already present when I arrived—it was unlikely she’d be excused from her usual duties to dine with me unless I specifically requested it. Even so, I did not have to wait long for her to appear. The doors opened and Anne entered, accompanied by our dinner. “What is this? Did you forget we’ll be dining together tonight?”

         “I didn’t forget,” she answered, “I simply insisted that I handle the serving.”

         “Why?” I honestly couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want some time away from her servant duties.

         “Well, there’s always jealousy directed at me from the others whenever you are here. They were hoping they might catch your eye,” she explained.

         “I see. I was unaware that I was the subject of such attention.” It was true—I’ve never been particularly good at noticing such things.

         “Oh, you were. Still are, in fact. A significant portion of the staff here are jealous of me for earning your attentions. I didn’t want to endure the stares from the other ladies any more than I already do every day, so I offered to do the serving myself.”

         I chuckled lightly. “Very well. We might as well begin then.”

         “So what was it like?” Anne asked after we began to eat. “The battle, I mean.”

         I had to pause for a moment and consider my response. How exactly to describe battle to someone who’d never even come close to experiencing it? I did not think Anne the sort of woman who’d want to hear all about the glories of war and less about its unpleasant realities. I’d dealt with plenty of the former in the City after my triumph and I’d had quite enough of them. The truth, then. “Bloody,” I answered earnestly. “War is an ugly, messy business. In this case there was little contest—my forces and Prince Baudoin’s fell upon the Skaldi after they broke through the passes. We were able to defeat them easily.”

         Anne’s eyebrows rose. “The Skaldi are fierce fighters, are they not?”

         I nodded. “They’re barbarians who live for blood and battle. Fortunately, strategy is not a strength they possess. They lack cohesive leadership.”

         “What do you mean by that?”

         “I mean they aren’t ruled by a single king the way we are in Terre d’Ange. The Skaldi are a bunch of disorganized tribes, not a united people. Their loyalty is to their own chieftains. Sometimes one of the stronger chieftains will manage to unite a couple of tribes, but it never lasts long.”

         She watched me with wide, fascinated eyes. I suppose no one spoke of the dynamics of Skaldi society to L’Agnacite gardeners as a rule. “That’s all very fortunate for us if they are as fierce as you say, but what if they did find a leader who could unite them?”

         It took me a moment to decide how to answer her. Should I tell her that there were rumors of such a figure emerging? No, best not to trouble her unnecessarily. Here in L’Agnace any threat from the Skaldi seemed far away. “It is… unlikely that any single leader could unify the Skaldi for long. They are a fractious people who place loyalty to their tribe above all else.” She relaxed slightly at that. “As Camaelines, it is our sacred duty to protect Terre d’Ange. We are more than capable of dealing with the Skaldi,” I assured her. The role I played in deliberately letting them through the passes so Baudoin could play at being Prince Rolande I kept to myself. It was better that she not know these things.

         When the meal was over, we retired to my bedchamber. Both of us were quite hungry for each other, this being our first night together after some time apart. Later, after we were sated, Anne lay in my arms, her head resting on my chest. I pressed her body tightly against mine, savoring the feel of her. In that moment I found myself feeling more grateful for her than ever before. It was an entirely different life in Lombelon with her, as far as possible from the life I had in the City. It was more like to Camlach than to the City, but there were several key differences, the lack of warfare being the most significant one. Yet despite the differences, there was a certain similarity as well. When the border was quiet, life in Camlach could be a country idyll, perhaps even moreso than Lombelon due to its remoteness. Anne and I were alike in that we were both creatures of the countryside. Of course she’d never been to the City, despite living only a short distance from it. I couldn’t imagine her fitting in well at all there. It had been that way for me when my father brought me to the City as a child. I was overwhelmed by the crowds, the sights, the smells—but most of all the crowds. Camlach is sparsely-populated compared to the rest of Terre d’Ange and lacks any large cities. Aiglemort might’ve been the ducal seat, but the number of people there was small in comparison to the population of the palace. Time had helped me grow used to these differences, but my preferences remained the same.

         “Would you like to see the City, Anne?” I inquired, curious.

         She stirred and lifted her head from its resting place on my chest. “The City of Elua?”

         “Yes. Have you ever thought about it?”

         “A few times. My father told me about it—he’s been a handful of times. He always said it was a sight worth seeing, but he would never want to live there. I think I would likely feel the same if I ever visited it,” she answered.

         “I see you take after your father in that regard. Both of you are far more comfortable here among your country gardens.”

         “And are you not also a creature of the countryside, your grace?” she asked, almost as if she’d read my earlier thoughts. “Your words about Camlach indicate as much.”

         “Guilty as charged,” I replied. “I suppose this shared disposition makes us suitable for each other.”

         That marked the end of our conversation, as she soon fell asleep and I followed not long after.

**

         My visits to Lombelon took on a familiar routine after that. I went whenever my duties permitted, which never seemed to be often enough. You might say it was turning into something of an addiction for me. The entire thing had taken me somewhat by surprise, as I never thought I’d take such a liking to the place, or to a certain woman who lived there.

Note

I’m back! I’m sorry I took so long to update this fic. I never actually forgot about it--this chapter has been written for a while, but I was too lazy to type & edit it. I don’t intend to go so long between updates again. I’m in a Kushiel mood right now & feeling motivated to write fic in this fandom again.

[citadelsushi]

Mind Over Matter Ch. 5

A canon divergent fic. Human kind is left scared and angry after The Council bans them from further space travel after the First Contact War. Director Udina plans to use the Alliance to rid Earth of biotics, who are viewed as alien in their own right. Cerberus has other plans for their abilities and is more than happy to provide Shepard the resources she needs to build a team and fight back. Of course, help from The Illusive Man always comes with strings attached.

Chapters 1-4 found here.

Few words were spoken once aboard the shuttle. Jacob, the pilot, introduced himself to Shepard and Kaidan as they boarded, but his greeting was all but ignored.

Addyson had waited, her entire body made rigid by fearful anticipation, half expecting to be shot down as soon as they cleared the station. But Gagarin's defense systems didn't power on and the shuttle's scanners had showed no one in pursuit. Miraculously, it seemed they had escaped the station before anyone had been alerted to the bodies they had left behind in the hangar. Shepard wondered if luck or incompetence was to thank for their smooth departure.

Shepard hadn't even had the chance to ask where they were headed when Miranda announced they had arrived at their destination. She and Kaidan shared a puzzled look as the shuttle door opened and they realized they were inside a ship. A large ship. The docking bay to which they exited was more than spacious, even with stockpiles of cargo and two shuttles now parked inside.

Forest green eyes scanned over the bay before landing on Miranda, who was already on her way to the elevator at the far side of the dock.

“Whose ship is this?”

Miranda halted and turned on her heels, her striking features contorted into a look of irritation. “If you two would follow me, I will tell you.”

The Australian turned again and continued into the elevator, where she dramatically tapped her foot.

“Don't let me hit her.” Shepard muttered in Kaidan's direction.

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The corners of his lips turned up into a small smirk, but faded quickly. He fell in at her side and they walked together to the elevator without another word. Addyson snuck a glance up at Alenko and felt her heart ache for him. Though he was trying to look at ease, she could see the muscle in his jaw keeping it clenched tight, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. She was sure Kaidan would explode if he didn't get answers soon.

“Lieutenant Shepard? Alenko?” Jacob appeared at her side, his arm outstretched. “I didn't get to introduce myself properly on the shuttle. Jacob Taylor, former Alliance.”

The man shook her hand, then reached across to shake Kaidan's. Shepard hadn't paid him much attention on their flight, but now her eyes passed over him in a swift, subjective sweep. Jacob was attractive, that much was certain; his skin was dark and his eyes were a deep, coffee brown. His frame was heavily muscled but lean, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist.

“Former?”

“Yeah, I left them a couple years ago. Didn't like the direction they were headed, you know?” Shepard breathed a cynical laugh; she knew all too well. “Don't worry about Miranda. She's not so bad once you get to know her.”

Shepard snorted, her eyes flitting to Kaidan's, intending to include him in her disbelief that Miranda could be anything but insufferable. His eyes, however, were trained on Jacob, narrowed in disapproval.

“We'll see about that.” Addyson answered absentmindedly, focusing her eyes forward again.

All four rode in the elevator, an air of mutual dislike surrounded them. It seemed Kaidan shared the same indifference for Jacob that Shepard did for Miranda, though she wasn't sure why. The man had barely said a word to them, and aside from supporting Miranda, had given her no reason to dislike him. Yet.

The elevator doors opened and Miranda stepped out. “Come with me. The Illusive Man wants to speak with you.”

Shepard's eyes narrowed. She wanted to ask who the hell The Illusive Man was, and why he gave himself such an egomaniacal title, but she knew Miranda wouldn't answer. Kaidan seemed to share her resignation because he stepped out in silence along with her, Jacob trailing them as they followed Miranda through the ship.

Whoever the Illusive Man is, he must be well funded.

The brief glances she caught of the ship had nearly made her jaw drop to the floor. It was beautifully designed; the CIC was expansive, the bridge stretched far enough she could barely make out the pilot's chair, and they passed through an impressive armory before entering a com room.

Jacob found a corner to lean against while Miranda keyed something into a console at the table in the center of the room, and it lowered into the floor. A holographic curtain surrounded Miranda as she stepped onto the new platform. Not wanting to be left out of the loop, Shepard followed her, as did Kaidan. The interface scanned each of their bodies from head to toe, and when it finished, they were no longer in the com room.

At least, it appeared that way. Before them was a large, mostly empty room, with sleek dark floors that seemed to extend out into space. The walls were transparent, looking out over the void; a massive dying star served as it's backdrop, it's molten surface constantly shifting color and design. In the center sat a man, his face mostly obscured by shadows, his legs crossed, a drink in one hand and a cigarette raised to his lips in the other.

“Miranda.” He exhaled her name on a cloud of smoke. “Lieutenant Shepard, Lieutenant Alenko. You two look a little underdressed.”

“Illusive Man.” Miranda greeted him warmly.

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring his remark about their attire, or lack thereof. “I thought we'd be meeting in person.”

“A necessary precaution. Not unusual for people who know what you and I know.” The dark haired man sipped from his glass.

“What is it that you know, exactly?” Kaidan stepped forward, his arms folded across his chest just as firmly as her own.

“Ah, Lieutenant Alenko.” The Illusive Man inhaled deeply on his cigarette. “I admit, I didn't expect to see you. My sources tell me you were already taken into custody on Gagarin.”

Shepard felt Kaidan tense beside her, an unseen flare of his biotics tingled against her skin, inciting hers to respond in kind. Whoever this mysterious figure was, he had to have people hidden among the staff on Jump Zero. How else could he have known that Alenko had been locked up?

“Cut the bullshit,” Shepard dropped her arms to her sides, “who are you?”

The man rose and stepped toward their holographic forms. Now, Shepard could see his face in full. His dark hair was streaked with grey, and his face wore heavy wrinkles around his eyes and mouth that matched his grim expression. What stood out most, however, were his eyes. They shone eerily with artificial blue light, with what looked like cybernetics glowing in his irises. They were haunting.

“Who I am is irrelevant, in the grand scheme of things.” Again, he took a drag on his cigarette. “All you need to know is that Captain Anderson trusted me to help you, Shepard.”

Shepard shook her head, “I'm gonna need more than that if we're going to work with you.”

“I have humanity's best interest at heart, Shepard. Director Udina thinks that biotics are undermining our success as a species, I believe you are our future.”

“So we're just supposed to believe you're some billionaire philanthropist with a soft spot for biotics?” Kaidan pointed an accusatory finger at the man, “What are you getting from this?”

“This isn't about me, it's about our future! Udina is holding us back! What he has planned is going to cause irreparable damage to our species!” The Illusive Man turned his back to them and took a long drag of his cigarette, chasing it with a sip of liquor before turning back to them. “Believe whatever you want, Alenko. The fact is, I'm your only hope of putting an end to Director Udina's plans.”

Shepard's eyes didn't leave the Illusive Man, but out of the corner of her eye she could see Kaidan rock back on his heels, easing up as he mulled it over. Kaidan was right; everything about this man made her uneasy. He was secretive, short-fused, and clearly connected enough to be well informed. Still, the Illusive Man had a point; they needed his resources if they were going to put an end to this. Anderson was working the inside, but they needed more than information to succeed. They needed guns, armor, more people, a ship. All of which this man seemed more than willing to provide.

Whatever his motivations, she would have to take that risk.

“What exactly are you expecting?”

“My expectations are aligned with Captain Anderson's. Find the crew he asked you to recruit, expose Udina, and bring his plans to a halt before the Alliance exterminates you all.” The Illusive Man breathed smoke. “I'm giving you the resources. The rest is up to you.”

The Illusive Man returned to his chair, taking another swig from his glass before disconnecting the call. The hologram dissipated and they were back in the com room, Jacob still looking on from the corner of the room.

“No doubt you both have a lot of questions.” Miranda stepped off the platform.

Kaidan snorted as he stepped down as well. “You could say that.”

Shepard pressed her palm to her forehead scrubbing it over her face and closing her eyes. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, she was feeling the effects of not eating and using her biotics so heavily. “How long are we going to be on this ship?”

“A couple hours, tops.” Jacob spoke up.

She raised an eyebrow in Miranda's direction. Standard ships could get to Jump Zero from Earth in a matter of minutes, and this ship seemed a grade above standard.

“The Normandy is more technologically advanced than any ship manufactured by the Alliance. It is equipped with a stealth system that will allow us to drift for hours undetected. Once we're sure the Alliance isn't aware we're here, we'll land at one of Cerberus's facilities on Earth.”

Cerberus?

Air emptied her lungs in a rush as Shepard sighed and pushed her fingers back through her hair. Hunger was gnawing at her and it was beginning to feel like her mind was floating, the room spinning faintly around her. At this point, she just needed some food. Maybe some pants. If they were going to be on this ship a while, questions could wait.

“Right. I'm assuming this ship has a med bay?” Addyson glanced to Miranda, who nodded in the affirmative, then to Kaidan. “Alenko, you should really go see the doctor on board.”

Amber eyes clouded with frustration stared back at her, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Shepard cut him off.

“See the doctor, get a change of clothes, and find me after.”

Though they were the same rank, Alenko recognized an order when he heard one, and he managed to choke back his argument. “Aye aye, ma'am.”

“Lieutenant Alenko, the med bay is on deck three and we've arranged for you to stay in the starboard lounge.” Miranda offered. “You'll find suitable clothing there.”

Alenko offered a short, but polite, thank you to Miranda, but his eyes stayed locked on Shepard's. The intensity she found there was startling; he was angry, and that anger was boring into her soul.

Addyson refused to look away. “And me?”

“Shepard, you'll be in the loft. Deck one.” Jacob answered her question and another flash of anger flickered across Alenko's eyes.

“Great. Alenko, come up when you're done with the doc.”

Frustration overtook her and Shepard strode from the room. After finding Alenko crumpled on the floor, following Lawson blindly onto a strange ship, and finding that the ship apparently belonged to a ghost of a man who headed an organization called Cerberus, Shepard had about reached her daily limit for bullshit. The resentful look Alenko had just stared her down with was the last thing she had wanted to see.

Footsteps echoed behind her, but she didn't stop; she pushed through the armory and ignored the numerous looks she received in the CIC, focusing on getting to the elevator before whoever was following could catch up with her.

The doors hissed shut just as Alenko appeared in front of her.