#gotta write em all

[newttxt]

and thats a wrapppppppp!!

from the 10th and final chapter of utilities included

masterpost

[24-05txt]

In regards to the whole soul mate thing, Soap's been through all the phases.

He'd started curious, then confused, then mournful, then resentful. For now he's settled somewhere in the vicinity of apathy—maybe spite.

He doesn't have a soul-mark. Never has, never will, and that's... fine. He's far from the only one lacking that kind of connection, and that's enough for him to feel understood. Not alone. He's got plenty of good friends besides—with and without soulmates of their own—and he's happy that way. Really, he is; it took him a fair amount of work to get to a place where he could say that and it not be wishful thinking. He's got friends, family, dalliances, motion and company and light in his life despite the lack of a mark that tells him where his place is.

And then he meets Ghost.

The Lieutenant is huge in the sense that his presence alone takes up what space his height and muscle can't. He's quiet, too, at least before Soap makes the effort to worm his way under all that tacgear. (The man is intriguing, what can he say? Who else walks around with a honest-to-fuck skull mask day in and out.)

Ghost seems to tolerate him at first, then inexplicably starts to prickle and grouch whenever Soap comes within six feet of him. He could make up a few reasons for why that is, but instead contents himself with pretending he doesn't notice—pushing the implied boundary until Ghost mans up and tells him off.

He never does, though. And it's not long at all until Soap's found that the boundary has given way and Ghost is—well he's actually pretty pleasant to be around. He's funny, and patient, and gives way too much of a shit to be in a career that pretty much ensures the death of everyone he works with. (He likes to pretend he doesn't, but there's no other reason he would have been waiting up in that church for Soap—in fact he shouldn't have still been there at all, since he'd already scoped an escape route. The bastard's soft, is what he's saying.)

And that's when things start to backslide just a little.

They're sitting in the mess—only three of them, the Captain unable to grace them with his presence—and Gaz is talking about his sister's husband's new boyfriend being the result of a late-discovery soulmatch.

"Could you imagine," he says, pausing to chew his mouthful before he continues. "Going thirty years knowing there's someone out there for you, and not seeing them until after you're already married?"

"Could be platonic," Soap pointed out, not bothering with the same courtesy of chewing his food. Ghost kicks him under the table for it, but he honestly can't be asked to care for only three words worth.

"Could be, but still—could you imagine?"

"Nope." Soap pops the 'P' and grins. Ghost doesn't kick him this time since he hasn't taken another bite yet. "I'm a wee bit hopeless in that department."

"Ah, brother." Gaz reaches out and they clasp hands for a moment, then he nudges his shoulder. "You and me both. Never much got the fuss about it, but that does seem like some sort of cosmic irony yeah?"

"Issat irony?" Soap asks. "Don't think that's right."

Obviously, that incites a short argument that ends when Gaz pulls out his phone to look up the actual dictionary definition of 'irony', and Soap grasps to change the topic to literally anything else to avoid Gaz gloating on the off chance that he's right.

"Lt, what about you?"

Ghost blinks at him as if he hasn't been staring at the both of them through the whole conversation.

"I know what irony is, Johnny."

"No—" he can't help the scowl, and talks over Gaz's sudden jeering as he shoves his phone under his nose. Soap lifts his chin to avoid it. "You got a soul mark?"

"Read it and weep, Soap!" Gaz cheers, only slightly subdued in respect for every else in the room.

"I do." Ghost says at the same time, dipping his head in a tiny little nod, and Soap's world ends just a little bit, right there in the mess hall. Curls up, withers, and dies without so much as a squeal.

He's not able to ask if Ghost knows who it is, or if he's met them, or if they're still alive, or if it's romantic or platonic; he's not sure if it even matters, because Johhny knows right then that he will never be as close to Ghost as they are.

And it hurts.

It hurts in a way he wasn't entirely expecting.

He must hold it together well enough through the rest of dinner, and then through walking with Gaz back to their rooms, but once he's got the door locked behind him he feels the smile fall off his face. He sits down on the edge of his bed.

Ghost has a soulmate.

Ghost has a soulmate and Soap is pissed about it. Because that soulmate isn't him—it can't be, since he doesn't have a mark of his own.

It's just—it's unfair. They work so well together, on the field and off. He knows for a fact no one else can read Ghost as well as he can, no one else talks to him like he does, he doesn't hang around anyone else like he seems to hang around Soap. If anyone should be Ghost's soulmate, it should be him.

But he's not. Which means there's someone else out there that can watch his six better, understand him more, have more satisfying conversations—and it seems fucking impossible, because he doesn't even know how it could get better given the time they've known eachother... and yet.

And yet Ghost has a mark, and Soap doesn't.

It takes him days to get over it—at least enough to act himself when he's in company. Ghost tries to get him to talk about it three separate times before he can manage to get his shit together. He won't *lie* to Simon, nor is he about to admit to what's eating at him, and it leaves him snappish. Leaves the vitriol closer to the surface than it ever has been around Ghost and he hates to see how he reacts to it; he doesn't cower, doesn't flinch, doesn't avoid him, just stares—in a different way than before. John's temper will flare and Ghost will freeze a little, tilt his head, furrow his brow, and fucking stare at him until the moment passes. It might be better if he raised his voice in return, let it escalate into a proper fight—or even if he shut Soap down hard and told him to cool off. Instead Ghost looks at him like he's gone and become a stranger; like he's confused where he doesn't expect to be, and that hurts almost as much as finding out his place isn't next to Simon—or at least, he doesn't have any rightful claim to it.

[aylish91]

"Oh~ A beautiful thing like you should be flourishing in the light. Such a shame. Now it will be nothing but a dream~"

Shattered Leviathan Dream

[werenotacoupleyesyouare]

one year ago.... my special boy.... im gonna be SICK

[grungiiuvu]

what if i wrote a witch!mu qing x werewolf!feng xin fic based off all the twitter art? because i would have fun with that...

[littleplantfreak]

oh to be the person Umemiya Hajime meets and falls for as he’s traveling after graduation

[beauzos]

i'm not often fond of the takes people who dislike Nahyuta have on his character (though i can certainly agree his writing is not Great. like objectively) but there was this one Nahyuta disliker on Reddit who was fuckin cookin when they said that Nahyuta should've been nicer/less cutthroat in the US trial segments.

(from u/Black_Griffin23)

i actually think that's a brilliant idea. he doesn't have to be /nice/, he can still be a dick, but i think it's interesting to have him be much less aggressive about "sins" and hating defense lawyers n stuff in the US, because it would add to the shock value of how cruel Khura'in is when you see him again in 6-3 and he's so fucking awful, way worse than he ever was in the first case you meet him, because that's what's expected of him out here. it would also be a decent way to show that things aren't quite what they seem with him, which you don't really get beyond some very basic "he and Apollo have some sort of background together" until 6-5.

also hot take i actually think 6-2 and 6-4 should switch places in the story. i know it'd be kinda rough to have Apollo only see Nahyuta again right before Turnabout Revolution but i also think it'd work with some tweaks. Nahyuta maybe expressing disappointment that Athena Cykes is the one defending Bucky in the new "6-2" because he was expecting someone else. you see the photo of Apollo and Nahyuta in 6-3 and it's like. ah. why is Apollo here? what's their history...? is this who Nahyuta was hoping to see? and then they FINALLY meet in the new "6-4", Apollo confronts Nahyuta at the end like he does in Magical Turnabout and Nahyuta expresses some discomfort, but is still coldly hostile otherwise, but it's clear he's hiding how he really feels. he can still basically tell Apollo to fuck off, but in a more "let it be, there's nothing either of us can do" type way.

sort of like how Edgeworth tells Phoenix to leave him tf alone after... what is it, 1-3? because he's making Edgeworth question a lot of his beliefs and it's becoming uncomfortable and unbearable. you could do that with Nahyuta since he's supposed to be a new take on Edgeworth anyways.

Nahyuta takes his time in international cases to properly hone his skills, but re-encountering Apollo (and dealing with Athena) starts to show him just how fucked his job in Khura'in really is, just how far he's strayed from the original vision, and now he's struggling to keep the guilt at bay. Apollo brings up all these old and unpleasant feelings he's kept hiding, and it's starting to unravel him bit by bit. them, you see him really struggle in 6-5 because of Dhurke, and it all unravels more, making the story and character development flow a bit better.

idk, i just think this would work a bit better and make his redemption at the end feel less last minute.

[goforth-ladymidnight]

A Second Chance, Ch. 13

@praetorqueenreyna @thrumbolt @achaotichuman @taymartiart @northern-polaris @zivotzaruzi (Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged or untagged.)

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Word Count: 4.1k words

Summary: Tamlin and Lucien enjoy a short but sweet breakfast together, then Lucien and his brother Alex make plans to meet up with a certain private investigator.

Read this fic on AO3, or here, below the cut:

Lucien and Tamlin were already dressed and sitting at the table having breakfast when they heard a loud yawn from the next room, and the sound of slow, shuffling feet coming out of the bathroom.

“Hey, Alex,” Lucien called out. “Coffee’s ready.���

“Oh, thank god,” came the distant moan, then a disheveled, pajama-clad redhead—who only vaguely resembled his older brother—staggered into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffeepot without another word.

Lucien disguised his amused smirk by lifting his mug of coffee to his lips. “Sleep well there, Sunshine?”

Coffee trickled into his mug as Alex mumbled, “Oh, go to hell.”

As Lucien chuckled, he noticed Tamlin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “He’s always like this until he has his coffee,” he said softly. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Well, have you tried sleeping on that fucking couch?” Alex grumbled, turning around to lean against the counter. He lifted his mug and muttered, “I swear it’s made out of concrete.”

“Can’t say that I have,” Lucien said dryly. “Like you said, it’s a fucking couch.”

Tamlin almost choked on his coffee.

As Lucien thumped him on the back, his brother groaned. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“Remember, you can always stay with Mom,” Lucien reminded him cheerily.

Alex grimaced as he lowered his mug, but the caffeine was already beginning to work its magic. “Yeah, well, she would just smother me and…” He paused and pointed at their breakfast. “Are those… pancakes?”

Lucien smirked again. “Tamlin made them,” he said, wafting the fragrant steam in his brother’s direction. “If you ask nicely, maybe he’ll share.”

“There’s plenty,” Tamlin said quickly, then told Lucien quietly, “You don’t have to make him beg.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Lucien teased.

Alex moved closer, cradling his mug. “I don’t usually have breakfast,” he said apologetically, sounding more awake, and much nicer, too. “But thanks for…” He paused to moisten his lips. “Are those… blueberry pancakes?”

Lucien smiled and took a sip of coffee, but said nothing.

Tamlin offered shyly, “I did splurge a little on the ingredients.”

Lucien reached over and patted his boyfriend’s leg. “You’ve got to love a man who knows his way around the kitchen,” he said warmly, then leaned in to give Tamlin an affectionate kiss.

Alex took a seat at the table. “You don’t have to be gay for that, do you?” he asked wryly, then leaned forward and inhaled. “Oh, god,” he moaned. “If these taste half as good as they smell, then I just might get down on one knee and start spouting sonnets.”

As Tamlin ducked his head to hide his smile, Lucien shoved the extra plate of pancakes closer to his brother.

“Easy there, Romeo,” he warned playfully. “I saw him first.”

Alex was too busy cutting into his stack of pancakes to respond.

Tamlin’s hand came to rest on Lucien’s upper back. As his fingertips slid over his shoulder blades and gently rubbed, he murmured, “Thanks for helping me out. You’re really not half bad in the kitchen.”

Lucien grinned. “Well, what can I say? I had a pretty good teacher,” he teased.

Alex interrupted with a moan before Tamlin could respond. “Pretty good?” He swallowed, then pointed at Lucien with his fork and declared, “If you don’t end up marrying this guy, I’m going to have Eris declare you legally insane.”

Lucien found himself blushing as he met Tamlin’s gaze. “I’ll take that under advisement,” he murmured.

He was pleased to see Tamlin blush, too.

Alex took another bite. “Ianthe never cooks,” he muttered around a mouthful. “I can’t even remember the last time we had breakfast together.”

Lucien leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “So, what do you want to do about that?”

Alex lowered his knife and fork with a sigh. “I don’t know. I was up half the night thinking about it.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I just… I can’t believe that she would cheat on me. After everything I’ve done… I know I haven’t been there for her lately, but still.”

Tamlin offered, “You don’t know for sure that she’s cheating. Jurian can find out for you. He’s good at what he does.” He shrugged. “He knows what it’s like to be cheated on.”

Lucien looked to Tamlin in surprise. “Really?”

Tamlin nodded grimly. “His first wife left him, but don’t tell him I said that. He likes to pretend that it was mutual, but… he hasn’t been in a serious relationship since.”

“You’re kidding.” When Tamlin shook his head, Lucien asked, “What about Vassa? They seem pretty cozy to me.”

Tamlin gave a discomfited shrug. “For now.”

“Vassa?” Alex reached for his mug. “Isn’t that your little Scythian friend?”

Lucien’s lips thinned in a tight smile. “Yeah.”

Alex sipped at his coffee with a furrowed brow. “Is this the same friend who drank you under the table back in college?”

Tamlin stifled a snort as Lucien’s eyes widened in horror. “Hey! I told you that in strictest confidence,” he complained, then turned to his boyfriend to try to save face. “It was Scythian vodka. It’s a hell of a lot stronger than the stuff they have here,” he tried to explain.

Alex only smiled at the emotional damage he had caused. “The poor kid called me long-distance to ask me how to cure the world’s worst hangover.”

Lucien pointed at him. “No. No, we are not doing this. You do not get to tell my boyfriend embarrassing stories about me. I forbid it.”

“Oh, please. That’s not even the worst one. I haven’t even told him how you got your nickname, Lulu.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Tamlin cocked an eyebrow. “Lulu?”

Although Lucien tried to protest, Alex said loudly, “He lost his two front teeth when he turned six, which is pretty early for a kid, but he couldn’t pronounce his own name anymore without lisping.” His brother put his tongue between his teeth to demonstrate. “So, to make it easier on him, we suggested he go by Lulu, and the nickname stuck.”

Lucien braced his hands against the table as he stood. “That’s it. Pack it up. Your couch privileges are officially revoked. Pancake privileges, too.”

Alex slid his plate out of reach before Lucien could grab it, and leaned back in his chair for good measure. “You can’t kick me out if I declare squatter’s rights,” he said with a smarmy, self-satisfied grin.

“Wha—You’re not a lawyer! You can’t pull that crap on me.”

“Neither are you, Mr. Journalism Major.”

Lucien glowered as he sat back down. “I hope you choke on those pancakes.”

Tamlin chuckled as Lucien slumped in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “The Lulu thing is kind of cute, actually.”

“Cute?”

“Yeah.” Tamlin leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Cute.”

Lucien blushed like a teenager. “Yeah, real cute,” he muttered, but that kiss was already starting to make him feel better.

Alex’s chair legs returned to the floor as he leaned forward. “Hey, pass me that syrup, would you, Tam?”

“Oh, Tam,” Lucien told his brother sarcastically as Tamlin obliged. “You know, you’re getting pretty chummy with my boyfriend,” he chided. “You just met him last night.”

Alex smirked as he poured more maple syrup over the remains of his breakfast. “And you guys have been dating for how long, exactly?”

Lucien glowered. “Irrelevant.”

Alex chuckled as he returned the little jug to its place in the center of the table. “You sound just like Eris,” he remarked, licking the sticky syrup drops from his fingers. “You should come hang out in Accounting sometime. You wouldn’t think so, but we have fun down there.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

Alex shrugged as he picked up his fork. “Okay. Your loss.” He snorted to himself. “Loss.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, just an Accounting joke,” Alex said, taking a large bite of syrup-soggy pancake. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Lucien glared at him. “Yeah? Why don’t you go tell it to your Accountant buddies? I’m sure they’d really appreciate it.”

“Can’t. I’m taking the day off,” Alex said around a mouthful, then swallowed. “Personal day. I might check out this Private Eye guy, though. See if he makes sense.” He snorted again and reached for his mug. “Cents.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “You see what I have to put up with?” he complained.

Tamlin gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’ve heard worse, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still early. Alex hasn’t finished his coffee yet.”

Tamlin suddenly jerked in his chair. “Oh, god, it got late,” he said, looking at the clock on the wall. “I’m late,” he said, then gave Lucien a quick kiss. “I gotta go.”

Lucien glanced at the time as Tamlin stood. It was almost nine. “Do you want me to drive you?” he offered.

“No, it’s okay,” Tamlin said hurriedly. He was already halfway across the kitchen. “Jurian’s waiting for me, so, uh…” He stopped and looked at the pile of dishes in the sink. “Shit. I meant to clean that up…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucien assured him. “I’ll take care of it.”

Tamlin gave him a grateful smile, then lifted his hand in a wave. “Okay. I’ll see you later. And, uh, it was nice to meet you, um, Alex.”

Alex lifted his mug in a farewell salute.

Lucien listened to the sounds of Tamlin grabbing his jacket from the closet, then the heavy slam of the front door. He sighed. So much for their romantic, leisurely breakfast together.

“Nice guy,” Alex remarked. “How come I haven’t met him before?”

Lucien turned back around to pick up his fork and drag the tines through his soggy pancake crumbs. “I brought him home for Christmas about eight years ago,” he recalled glumly. “I guess you don’t remember.”

Alex squinted as he cradled his mug and tried to think back. “You were dating guys that long ago? I thought Fancy-Pants was your first boyfriend.”

Lucien shot him a look. “Jessie was,” he said patiently. “Tam and I were just friends back then.”

Alex took a thoughtful sip. “So… what? After seven years, you meet up again, out of the blue, and start dating, just like that?”

“Pretty much,” Lucien said simply. He didn’t feel like sharing Eris’s suspicions about Tamlin working for a private investigator and how it might affect their dad’s audit, even if he did think their oldest brother was wrong.

“Huh. Well—” Alex sat up to hunch over his near-empty breakfast plate. “I’ll say this much: You’ve got good taste.”

Lucien huffed a laugh. “You’re just saying that because you like his cooking.”

“He does make good pancakes,” Alex agreed, but he at least sounded sincere when he continued, “Your last boyfriend liked being your boyfriend, but this one…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. He seems to like you, and that makes him okay in my book.”

“Your Accounting book?” Lucien said, half-smiling now.

“Yeah,” Alex said, smiling fondly over the rim of his mug. “I’ll let you know if something doesn’t add up.”

Lucien snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you do that.”

Alex looked thoughtful as Lucien began clearing the table. “Just let me know if he doesn’t clean up his act.”

Lucien groaned. “Oh my god. Enough with the puns,” he complained with a mirthless laugh.

“Okay, okay,” Alex said, trying—and failing—to disguise his smirk. “New topic, yeah?”

“Yes, please,” Lucien said, carrying the dishes over to the sink.

Alex waited until Lucien had placed the dishes in the sink and was looking at him. “So… Seen any good movies lately?” he asked, then suggestively flicked up his eyebrows. “I hear Jurassic Park is pretty good.”

Lucien’s face flushed, then he scowled as he turned on the hot water. “Shut up, Alex.”

* * *

“Hey, everything okay?” Jurian remarked as Tamlin slid into the passenger seat.

“It’s fine,” Tamlin said breathlessly, buckling up.

“You sure? You seem a little… distracted.”

“Lucien and I made pancakes this morning. I just lost track of time, that’s all.”

Jurian’s head jerked back in surprise. “Oh. Well, I could have waited a few extra minutes,” he remarked, putting the SUV into gear. As they made their way through the parking lot, he continued, “Now, I’m not one to judge, but, uh… how exactly do you ‘make pancakes’, anyway?”

“In the kitchen,” Tamlin said wryly.

“Ooh. Kinky.”

Tamlin smacked his arm, which made Jurian jerk the wheel.

“Ow—Take it easy!” he complained, rubbing his shoulder. “It was just a joke.”

Tamlin’s face was hot as he sat back and crossed his arms. “Can we not talk about my sex life on our commute, please?”

“Fine by me,” Jurian said, pulling into traffic. “I’m just glad you have a sex life at all. I was starting to think you were going to become a monk, or something.”

Tamlin let out a soft snort. “Hardly.”

Jurian caught his eye and smirked. “Atta boy, Tam.” As they came to a stop behind a line of cars waiting at a stoplight, he reached over to tweak his chin. “You’re growing up so fast.”

Tamlin smacked his hand away, but couldn’t help his smile. “Gee, thanks. Dad.”

“Oh, god. Please. I’m not that old,” Jurian complained, checking out his gray hairs in the rearview mirror. He made a face as he ran a hand over his salt-and-pepper stubble, and mused, “I meant it more in a… gay butterfly unfurling its rainbow wings for the first time, kind of way. Have my eyebrows always been this color?”

“I don’t know. Besides, I’m not actually gay.”

Jurian cocked an eyebrow at him as the light turned green. “You want to run that by me again, Mr. Pancake Man?”

Tamlin blushed. “I mean, I’m Bi. You know, bi-sexual,” he said, half-muttering, even though no one else was around to hear. “I still like women… At least I think so. I mean… I just… I like Lucien more,” he finished with a shrug.

“Hmm.” Jurian turned his attention back to the road. “Okay,” he sighed. “Whatever makes you happy. You are happy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Tamlin said quietly, although saying so felt like a betrayal, somehow. Was it wrong to like both genders? It hadn’t felt wrong to love Feyre, even though he wasn’t very good at it. But with Lucien… It didn’t feel wrong at all… As long as he ignored everything his father had ever told him about gay men.

“Speaking of women,” Jurian said, changing the subject as smoothly as he changed lanes. “How about that little photo assignment we talked about yesterday? How do you want to go about doing this?”

Tamlin took a deep breath, clearing his head. “There’s a park near the office,” he said, thinking aloud. “I’ll start there. I’ve still got a short range lens on my camera. I can pretend to be birdwatching or something.”

Jurian gave him a proud smile. “That’s my boy.”

* * *

With his shopping bags nestled safely inside the trunk, Lucien closed the lid, then settled into the front seat of his brother’s idling BMW.

“When I said you could come along, that didn’t mean taking you Christmas shopping,” Alex complained.

Lucien grinned as he buckled his seat belt. “You owe me for the Lulu story,” he chided playfully. “Besides, I said I’d buy you lunch.”

Alex made a face, then turned his head as he backed out of the Strings and Things music store parking lot. “Yeah, well… These latkes had better be God’s next gift to mankind,” he muttered.

“Oh, they are,” Lucien promised. “Trust me, they are.”

Alex said nothing, but sighed and shook his head as he shifted into gear.

His brother’s good mood had evaporated once they left Lucien’s apartment. It wasn’t easy, admitting that your significant other might not be the person you thought they were. Lucien was lucky he didn’t have that problem.

“So, what’s next? The Lingerie Store?” Alex said with a tight smile, trying—and failing—to make fun.

“Oh, I can take care of that on my own, thank you very much,” Lucien said wryly. He pulled out Tamlin’s—well, Jurian’s—business card to look at the address. “Let’s see… We need to take a left at the next light, then we should be there in about four blocks.”

As they pulled into a parking space at a rather shabby, red brick office building, Alex glanced around and grimaced. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

Lucien double-checked the card and shrugged. “It’s the right address.”

Alex took a deep breath, then blew out his cheeks. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” he said quickly, and made to put the car in reverse.

Lucien laid a hand on his arm and stopped him. “Hey, we’re already here,” he said calmly. “It can’t hurt to go up and ask a couple questions.”

Alex relaxed his grip on the gear shift, but only slightly. “What if someone breaks into my car while we’re gone?”

“Like anyone is going to know what to do with a box of violin strings and polishing wax,” Lucien said wryly.

“I meant someone taking my sound system, dumbass,” Alex snapped.

Lucien couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “We’re not going to be here that long,” he countered. “Look. There’s a park across the street, and people standing in line for coffee. Does this really look like the kind of place where people are going to smash your windows and rob you blind?”

When Alex remained stubbornly silent, Lucien opened the passenger door. “Now, will you stop stalling? I want to go up and see my boyfriend.”

“Wait—What’s your boyfriend doing up there?”

“They work together,” Lucien said, then got out before his brother could ask more questions.

“Since when—Ugh. Fine,” his brother growled, and killed the ignition.

As Alex followed Lucien into the building, he asked, “When were you going to tell me your boyfriend worked for a private eye?”

Lucien called back over his shoulder. “I just did.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” Alex asked, his voice uncomfortably loud as they crossed the empty lobby.

“No,” Lucien said irritably, waiting for his brother to catch up so they could walk side by side. “What makes you say that?”

“Because it’s a nice way to pad his boss’s pockets. Dating a Vanserra?” He gestured between the two of them. “Referring a Vanserra?”

Lucien scowled, then pushed the call elevator button with more force than was necessary. “Look, it’s not like that, okay?” he said, and was glad when the elevator doors opened right away. “Besides, I thought you liked him.”

Alex followed him into the elevator. “I do,” he insisted. “But something’s not adding up. What floor is it, anyway?”

“Third,” Lucien said flatly, pushing the appropriate button with little joy.

As the elevator doors rolled closed, Alex leaned against the wall and continued, “I’m just saying: How does a nice guy like your boyfriend end up working in a place like this? He should be working in a—a restaurant, or something. I don’t know. What does he even do?”

“Look, it’s a long story, and a short elevator ride, okay?”

“So, give me the elevator version.”

Lucien quirked his mouth to one side as he considered it, then he sighed. “We were roommates back in college, right? So, after I left to go to Scythia, the d—someone spiked his drink and took advantage of him. The school wasn’t going to do anything about it, so he found Jurian, and now they work together. Okay?”

Alex stared at him. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

The elevator slid to a rumbling halt, and the doors rolled open with a cheery little chime.

As they walked out into a plain, depressingly beige lobby, Alex asked softly, “Did they ever catch the guy who did it?”

Lucien’s heart twinged, but he decided not to correct his brother’s assumption. “Not yet,” he murmured. “I asked Eris to help me look into it, though.”

“Eris?”

“Yeah.”

Alex let out a low whistle. “Your boyfriend’s pretty lucky, you know that?”

Lucien felt himself smile. “Yeah. I do.”

There was no one sitting at the reception desk when they walked up, but it was easy enough to follow the signs.

The whole floor appeared to be a refurbished doctor’s office, with plain, numbered doors down a long, narrow hallway. Most of the office doors were closed, but the one marked J. P. I. was ajar.

Through the narrow opening, Lucien could see Jurian sitting at a cluttered desk and listening to someone on the phone. His expression was hard as he tapped a pencil, eraser side down, on his desk.

Lucien rapped his knuckle against the door, then waved when Jurian looked up.

Startled, Jurian muttered into the receiver, “I need to call you back,” but in Scythian. “Da,” he said, nodding. “Thanks.”

Lucien opened the door wider to step inside. “Hey, sorry to interrupt. Was that Vassa?”

“No. That was a, uh… a friend of a friend,” Jurian said, carefully returning the receiver to its cradle, then he stood. “So… This is a surprise,” he remarked politely, crossing his arms. “Is this just a coincidence, or…?”

Lucien gestured to his brother standing behind him in the hallway. “Tam recommended your services,” he explained, taking off his gloves. “Is he here?”

“Oh… and, uh, no,” Jurian said, uncrossing his arms to step around the desk. “He’s running an errand for me. But, hey, since you’re here, come on in,” he said, reaching for the door as he gestured for Alex to step inside.

As Jurian closed the door behind them, he apologized, “Sorry about the mess. I don’t usually see clients here. If they want to meet, we usually choose a place where they’re comfortable, like a coffee shop or something. Otherwise it’s strictly over the phone.” He gestured to the empty chair across from his desk. “Have a seat.”

Lucien remained standing by the filing cabinets so that Alex could sit. It was his appointment, after all.

“So, you said Tam recommended my services,” Jurian remarked, taking his place across from Alex at the desk. He gripped the arms of his chair and leaned back. “What else did he tell you?”

“Not much,” Lucien said.

“Just that your wife cheated on you,” Alex added.

“Hey,” Lucien scolded, and cuffed the back of his head.

“Ow,” Alex complained, rubbing at his scalp.

Jurian’s lips thinned into a tight smile. “He did, huh?”

“Don’t mind him,” Lucien said, trying to apologize. “He’s just worried his own wife is playing the hanky-panky with someone else, and he’s taking it out on you.”

“Hey,” Alex growled up at him. “I’m just trying to figure out the guy’s credentials, all right?”

“My credentials?” Jurian echoed. He swiveled in his chair to point at a framed certificate hanging above his head and continued, “I’m licensed and certified annually by the city, and have been for the past nine years. Before that, I was a cop for nine—no, ten—years before I decided to go private. A cop’s hours are hell, which is why my wife left. And yeah,” he said to Lucien. “She did cheat. Old high school sweetheart… Tam was right about that.”

“Sorry,” Lucien and Alex mumbled at the same time.

Jurian sighed. “It is what it is,” he said with a tight smile, then leaned forward to lace his fingers on the desk. “So, big guy,” he said, addressing Alex. “What’s your story? How can I help?”

Alex let out a heavy sigh, but before he could answer, Lucien offered, “I’m going to leave you two alone to talk.” He gave his brother’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll wait in the car.”

Alex handed him the keys with a murmur of thanks, and Lucien closed the door gently behind him.

As he waited for the elevator, Lucien remembered that there was a coffee cart in the park across the street. It would be nice to stretch his legs and get some fresh air, and some hot coffee, besides. It was the least he could do to thank his brother for taking him shopping, even if he did so unwillingly.

As the elevator doors opened, Lucien began to hum: It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…

Even if Alex was in a bad mood, that didn’t mean Lucien had to be. There was a good chance Tamlin would be back by the time Lucien had gone for coffee, then he could give his boyfriend another early Christmas gift… for Hanukkah.

[wereh0gz]

Man. I genuinely don't get how idw sonic haters (Ian Flynn haters at this point, bc they shit on like literally *everything* he does for sonic) don't get tired. Like. You look at one and it's just post after post, paragraphs upon paragraphs abt how much they don't like this guy's writing

Isn't it exhausting. Constantly making yourself engage with something you clearly hate so much. Like what even is the point. It doesn't even look like they're having fun or trolling or whatever it's just genuine hatred

What is there even to gain? It's not enjoyment that's for sure. Attention? Is that it? I don't see any other reason why. Unless they think their "criticisms" are actually gonna do something to push the franchise in the direction they want

It makes me wonder if they even truly like sonic at all. It really doesn't feel like it with their constant negativity abt almost everything coming out of it recently

[seventh-district]

Could've left me just the way you found me, but you came and put your wings around me. You went out of your way, to fix what you didn't break.

This song is so incredibly Sam & Darlin' coded and no one can tell me otherwise.

[lots of lyrical analysis below the cut] [there's also a short little fanfic blurb of them stargazing down there too (this post got really out of hand lmao)]

For those not fully caught up, note that the following commentary contains various spoilers for Sam and Darlin's stories.

Note: Unfortunately this song is gendered, using the word 'girl' several times. Which sucks a little bit for immersion purposes, not only for keeping Darlin' gender-neutral, but also because I see this song as a duet between them, and Darlin' obviously wouldn't be addressing Sam with the word 'girl' either. So! As with most songs on their playlist, we're just gonna mentally omit any gendered terms we come across.

Side note: Frustratingly, this is one of those songs that didn't really even need to gender the subject in the first place. No part of the story or message is lost without it. But alas, many songs are like that, and so the playlist-makers of the world shall continue to suffer. [/lh]

Anyways, preamble's over. It's lyric time now yay!

Sam's Part

I was a ten-year train wreck

Technically for Sam I suppose it was 13 years, but ten is close enough (and 'ten' admittedly flows a lot better in the rhythm of the song than 'thirteen' would.) Anyways, we're not here to split hairs, (I have to remind myself), we're just here to point out similarities.

In Sam's Dec. '22 HBW, he says "For the last 13 years or so I haven't had to care too much about how I look. Seemed a little redundant after turnin', considerin' I didn't wanna be around much'a anybody anyway."

I think he's mentioned or alluded to that roughly 13 year period of time more than once, but that's the one I remember best so it's the example I'm using. There's still about 4 Sam audios I've yet to listen to as of making this post, so if I'm missing some Key Lore I'll edit this later. But for now, I don't think Sam has given many specifics on exactly how bad things got during that time. Luckily, 'train wreck' is a pretty broad and subjective term, so it easily covers any degree to which he may have fallen apart during those years.

It also feels like a very 'him' way of quickly brushing over the details of his past/his hurt, as he seems to tend to do with Darlin', (not all the time ofc but it's still something I've noticed) putting his own hurt on the backburner to prioritize and attend to theirs. Even outside of his dynamic with them, I think as a healer, it's something he learned to do. And now he does it with everyone. Put on a brave face, compartmentalize things and unpack them later, etc. I could go on and on but there'll be time for that in other posts I'm sure. For now, lets get back to the song at hand.

With a last-call longneck

Due to personal reasons, I've yet to decide if I want to HC him as having used alcohol as a coping mechanism during that time. I don't recall him having mentioned alcohol much, if at all, (maybe one mention of whiskey that I don't have time to find right now) so I don't think it's necessarily canon that he did, but it's certainly possible. My personal preferences aside, I'll admit it makes for some good additional angst. (And- self-indulgently- it makes some other songs on my playlist for them more fitting.) So, for the sake of this song, let's imagine that he did.

I was searchin', I'd been hurt real bad

This one feels pretty self-explanatory given what Alexis did, (and, if you wanna get even angstier with it, whatever his family did earlier on in his life) so there isn't much commentary to add on my end.

I HC that in spite of 'not wanting to be around anybody', he- like Darlin- still had a tiny part of himself buried deep down that was, in a way, 'searching' for someone to find solace in. (No this isn't me projecting onto them both haha what are you talking about-)

Movin' on, gettin' sidetracked One step forward and five back

This is generally applicable enough that I don't feel the need to give too much of a specific example. Anyone who's recovered or is recovering from trauma knows this non-linear, back-and-forth struggle well already, and I'm sure he was no stranger to it.

If I were to give some examples though, I could point to Darlin's (and subsequently, Sam's) encounter with Alexis at the summit, or the shit that Quinn dredged up about Fredrick and threw at Sam in the interrogation room. Those are both more recent examples and I imagine these lines of the song to be coming from a place of him prior to meeting Darlin', but still, they're some instances where I'm sure he felt like the past was pulling him back in. I'm sure that there's been many throughout those 13 years that we were never witness to.

Not your fault, I was scared to fall

This line reminds me of their 'Cuddles and Confessions' audio. I don't think he ever explicitly said he was 'scared' per se, so afaik there's no specific line I can quote, but in that and every audio prior, he was obviously hesitant to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he was gradually falling for them. Even after the initial confession, there's certain limits of his (e.g. biting) that he carries for far longer, and some that I (and others) HC that he'll carry forever. So this line feels to me like him reassuring Darlin' that his reluctance isn't the fault of them, but his past.

Darlin's Part

You were the star in the pitch black Shine the way on the way back

We don't have any canon instances of them comparing Sam to a star, but I can see it being something they'd say (perhaps less poetically, but the sentiment would be there) one night while laying up on their roof watching the stars with him. Maybe they're dead-tired, talking nonsense with lidded eyes at the end of a long day, fighting sleep in favor of more time spent with him.

"What- what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Their hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in their line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above them. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow their less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', their pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along their arm, he takes their hand in his and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." They say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." They nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting them. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

They scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh into their hair. "No- no I mean- like... what's another name for it... Oh! It's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but they cut him off before he can start. "But no- no, this one isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in their overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Their frown is audible in their voice as they latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at their over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, darlin', I promise."

They huff, but thankfully shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention. I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...There you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places 'n people I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, surrounded by the ghost of him. You outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me back home."

In the back of their mind, they recall something they once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can see a star that's already burnt out, because it's light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

They remember Sam's words, once whispered to them on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

They think about dead stars.

They think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand slides up their forearm, pulling them out of their thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

They look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

They reach out, pulling him down into them. Burying their face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear their words, muffled against the thick fabric, but his hearing catches it just fine.

"Don't burn out too quick. Please. I still need you here. I don't- I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

.......Whoopsies! Really, genuinely didn't mean to improv an entire scene there, good god. Also didn't mean to swerve hard into angst at the end but uh. that's what came out! so I'm rolling with it lmao. Aaanyways let's move on, it's getting late and this is a song analysis post, not a fic.

Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers

'Out of nowhere' reminds me of Sam's words from the same HBW video I referenced earlier. "You came into my life like a damn wreckin' ball. There was no preparing for that, clothing or otherwise." While those were Sam's words, not Darlin's, I still feel like they feel similarly to how suddenly Sam came into their life as well. (Not in a bad way, mind you!)

[the significance of 'answered all my prayers' edges into my own personal more headcanon-y/personal/OC-ified Darlin' territory, so we can just gloss over this one for the sake of at least attempting to keep this more universally applicable]

Picked up the towel that I threw in Took in a heart that was ruined

Again, largely self-explanatory I feel. (*proceeds to explain anyways*) I imagine that Darlin' was at the point of throwing in the towel, hellbent on a solo-mission to find Quinn regardless of the danger it posed to them. I doubt they were looking toward the future anymore, (to reference Sam,) fully willing to throw themself at their problems until they really did break.

The specific use of 'ruined' hits hard here, because after everything they went through with Quinn, and especially after he recounted it all to Sam in that interrogation room, I imagine that they really, truly did feel ruined.

Showed me the past ain't a tattoo Loved me even when you didn't have to

These lines in particular make me sick with emotion every time I hear this song, because I feel like they hit the nail on the head for how Darlin' feels.

I'll be here citing various quotes all night that I feel showcase that sentiment, but we don't have time for that! So instead I'm just pointing to the entirety of 'Quinn's Aftermath' video, and leaving you with this single quote from it.

"Everything that he said reflects nothin' on you, and everything on him."

Equally Applicable Lines

And I don't know why Why you saw something in me, baby But you saw right through All the pain, and you came and saved me Yeah, I know you didn't leave me lonely Weren't the one that put the heartbreak on me Picked up the pieces It wasn't the mess that you made Could've left me just the way you found me But you came and put your wings around me You went out of your way To fix what you didn't break

Again, I think these lines are all pretty self-explanatory, and are just as accurate coming from either one of them. To me, at least, their entire dynamic is that they saved each other, in their own ways.

(But I will admit, the final verses about 'going out of your way to fix what you didn't break' are definitely conjuring up memories of Sam in the early days, literally going out of his way to visit and heal Darlin' after their fight with the two vamps. In general, his continued/repeated healing of them after they once again hurt themselves is the very literal definition of fixing what he didn't break.

But! While we may have more blatant examples of Sam being 'the fixer' so to speak, I think he'd argue that Darlin' has done plenty fixing of their own. Physical wounds aren't the only things that need healing, after all.)

-------

[shameless self-promo of my Sam & Darlin' playlist for those few of u interested enough to make it to the very end of this wall of text. if u liked this then u might like some of the other songs on there soooo maybe go check it out and maybe perhaps give it a follow so i can get a little serotonin boost or dopamine or whatever the chemical is that's released when Number Go Up. ...okay that's it i hope u enjoyed my fixation-induced ramblings! thank u and goodnight]

[praesparo]

me after replying to every fuckin draft ... (i absolutely loved it tho)

[ahrencmeptn]

Goku...

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

reopening the ask box is like... just finishing vacuuming shed cat hair, and then immediately going and petting said cat vigorously & watching with delight as So Much Fur sheds right back onto the floor

[deus-and-the-machina]

ffxiv garlemald discourse is so funny because people will go "ugh people just cant stand it when things aren't black and white" and then you look at how the empire are portrayed in stormblood and shadowbringers and its like hm. that seems like a pretty intense and accurate display of violent imperialism to me! Wow I wonder why people in this day and age may find it hard to feel sympathy for them or even hate them on principal. god its such a mystery.

the games like 50/50 to me on how it tackles these themes because I actually like the garlemald arc in EW, I think it has a lot of horrific and powerful scenes depicting how self destructive fascist propaganda and beliefs are, but I also think it doesn't go far enough on some fronts. the garleans' xenophobia is most notably and obstacle to getting them to accept the contingent's help, which is what they're there to do,

but there's never an admission of harm from any garleans on the uuuuuuuuh massive amount of war crimes the nations around them are still suffering from they're just kind of like "we misjudged you...but you actually wanted to help us all along" like yeah thats great now can we get you all some deprogramming because you keep talking about returning to your prime and glory days and I think we need to unpack some stuff you really SHOULDNT return to. im not even really talking about EW proper but the patches where things are a bit more chilled out and people are recovering.

It feels like they wanted to have their critique of imperialism and also have things end with the beauty of human connection and reaching out and these things just don't mesh well because hey a lot of your modern day audience is not gonna like having to treat people yelling xenophobic things at the cast and your character with kid gloves after you showed them hours and hours of the awful things these people's beliefs have done. especially in the present day hoo boy.

[deonideatta]

First line/last line

This is kinda late skdhshd but thank you @tare-anime for the tag!!! I'm always happy to talk about my writing haha

rules: go to your last 5 fics and share the first and last line with no context :)

Unamed Twiyor Sickfic

Twilight does not forget things. // When he starts sneezing as well a few days later, Twilight he begins to wonder if perhaps he should take more vitamins and start working on fixing his sleep schedule.

Unamed fic where Twilight realizes his feelings

He feels nothing for her. // If he listens hard enough, he can almost hear the sound of a river roaring.

Breathe, everything will be fine

The train thunders down the tracks, fast, but not fast enough. // Hours later, the knot in his chest finally loosens into a relief that fills him from head to toe when he spots a head of pink fluffy hair nestled in a comforting embrace.

Go ahead and pull the pin

The Forger family life doesn’t implode after the night Yor came home bloody and injured. // He’s never been happier.

Potatoes, rubble, and the warmth of your family's kitchen

Before anything else, he is Agent Twilight, Westalis' greatest spy, the man of a thousand faces; cold, calculated, and totally dedicated to his missions. // He smiles softly to himself, and goes to join them at the table.

I tag @ahenix @lady-charinette @myriad-of-things @rachellysebrook and anyone else who wants to join :)

[actuallyjustabiscuit]

I was reading a post about Infinity Train (still salty AF about the cancellation of season 5 and its removal from Max) and “weirdcore liminal space show” has got to be the best way to describe The Amazing Digital Circus.

In fact, there’s a lot I want to talk about regarding the thematic comparisons between TADC, IT, and Over the Garden Wall actually as shows about people not being where they’re supposed to be/not being where they want to be but not exactly knowing how to escape the new reality they suddenly found themselves in.

I actually have so many thoughts right now. Anyway thanks @ickymorto for giving me the idea.