#how to train your dragon have a bittersweet ending but is better like this than make a new series about dragons

[tartagluvr]

the soft sound of a sorcerer

unfortunately my flavor of autism is music and association to it. every song i listen to has to have a connection for me personally to a time, place, person, etc. fortunately though that gives me endless creative writing ideas :D since beginning nightbringer, a lot has screamed solomon at me. i wanted to share the songs so *drops this on your doorstep and runs

warnings: me being an autistic fuck and over analyzing a fictional otome game character like babe get a life its been five years

word count: 937

immortal human; solomon, the wise

- nova amor; state lines

"are you sure, did you call? did we ever really talk, i don't know." / "i've been awake in every state line, dying to make this last us a lifetime. trying to shake that its all on an incline."

i can't really rationalize my solomon association with this one, listen to it on your own and see for yourself if you feel as i do. as an accidentally immortal being, solomon has been everywhere and all at once. he knows pasts, presents, even futures that have not a thing to do with him. he hasn't yearned to lose his immortality once until meeting you, desperate to hold onto you forever.

- lana del rey ft father john misty; let the light in

"cuz i love to love to love to love you, i hate to hate to hate to hate you." / "i need to need to need to need you."

this one is less of a lyrical association and more of a feeling. something about the chords and melody line make me think of the sorcerer. especially the minor harmony in the chorus, and over all the post production of the vocals as well. the reverb has got to be either long hall or church, the way it rings in your ears unlike studio does. yes i'm insane

- wolf larsen; if i be wrong

"what if i'm wrong, what if i've lied? what if i've dragged you here, to my own dark night?" / "ten thousand cars, ten thousand trains. there are ten thousand roads to run away. but i am not lost, i am not found. i am not dylan's wife, not cohen's hound." / "if there is a will, there is a way. i will escape for sure, i am david blaine."

there is something so carnally nb!solomon about the lyrics of this song, which is why i quoted so many of them. to me, nb!solomon is terrified he has made a wrong decision in following you to the past. it terrifies him that he so quickly chose to break time just for you, no matter the consequences. no matter if he loses his immortality, becomes stuck, passes on. he has lived so many lives and yet the only one that matters anymore is the one he wants with you. goodness me solomon.

- hozier; unknown/nth

"do you know i could break beneath the weight, of the goodness love i still carry for you? that i'd walk so far just to take, the injury of finally knowing you." / "you know it's more than being unknown. and there are some people love who are better unknown."

i don't think this one requires me to add any notes :3

- adrianne lenker; anything

"i don't want to be the owner of your fantasy, i just want to be a part of your family. and i don't wanna talk about anything, i don't wanna talk about anything." / "weren't we the stars in heaven? weren't we the salt in the sea?" / "dragon in the new warm mountain, didn't you believe in me?"

a gentle reminder that solomon is still at core a human. he has human emotions, feelings, yearnings. something about this song is so domestic and nostalgic to me, like how i imagine flicking through the pages of solomon's life would feel. its a bittersweet hug wrapped in acoustic notes.

- ethel cain; sun bleached flies

"god loves you, but not enough to save you. so i said fine, cause thats how my daddy raised me." / if they strike once, then you just hit them twice as hard. but in the end, if i bend under the weight that they gave me, then this heart would break and fall as twice as far." / "i forgive it all as it comes back to me."

thinking a lot about solomon before he became a sorcerer. thinking about his family, where he came from, how long gone that all is now. barbatos taking him in and raising him not out of love yet also not out of spite. i wonder a lot if he still remembers what it was like to be just human. perhaps he has forgotten by now, and time is the only one to blame. he just takes the punches with a smile and runs on.

-nicole dollanganger; angels of porn II

"my hair is falling out again and i don't really care, i try to stir my conscience it was never really there." / everything is fine in heaven, but i'll never get to know." / "soak all my clothes in holy water, and drown them like a crying son."

okay please hear me out on this one i know this song is a bit out there but its always on repeat for me. please there is something solomon in this song to me. don't crucify me i know i'm onto something here

- trixie mattel; the well

"loving's just a name for saving face, and running's just the way i won the race." / "no i won't come running at the ringing of the bell, no you don't throw wishes to the well." / beneath the neon moon, i'm in the light. tell me, do i ever cross your mind?"

swear this one isn't solomon associated just because it talks about running more than once. to me it reads like solomon speaking to mc, and feeling like he is always second to the demon brothers. he wants to be the one by your side before anyone else gets there, but he is always too late. so he just keeps running, from witches, from his past, from you.

-

that would be all for now :3 i love recommending music to my loved ones and crafting personalized playlists based off lyricism and overall vibes. i have a handful of songs that i associate with each demon brother as well and will probably end up yapping on my page about them sometime in the future. thanks for reading !! feel free to pretty please send me your solomon songs, or just obey me songs in general. <3 -tete

[nikibogwater]

Ya girl's been SICK this week (my first time getting Covid, yaaaay), which sucked, but it did mean I finally had the time to properly binge the How to Train Your Dragon movies for the first time since The Hidden World released. I've never actually sat down and watched all three films back-to-back before, even though this was THE film franchise of my teenage years. But having finally done so, I have Thoughts™.

First movie is still arguably the best of the three, if only because it's an entirely self-contained narrative. The script is really tight and focused, and the whole thing is really well-paced. The animation actually looks way better than I remembered, but that might just be because this was my first time watching it on Blu-Ray instead of digital.

First movie also still has the best soundtrack of the three (which is saying a lot, considering John Powell was absolutely COOKING with all three movies). "Test Drive" is just too iconic to be outdone.

I really like Astrid's character arc in the first movie. I normally don't like tough-as-nails girlboss characters because they're so often one-dimensional and boring, but she works really well for me because her girboss-ness is as much a flaw as it is a strength. While she is athletic and competitive in her own nature, she's also under a lot of pressure to be a tough warrior, since that's what her society values. I love the way Hiccup brings out her softer side, how he shows her through Toothless that it's ok to be gentle, that compassion is a strength in its own right. I love the way she in turn becomes his pillar of support and comfort. Somehow I'd forgotten just how good Hiccstrid really is.

It's weird re-watching the second film as an adult, because I can still clearly remember a time when it was just the coolest thing ever. The second film was really what sold me on the series as a whole, to be honest. Like, don't get me wrong, I always loved the first one, but the second is where I really started getting into the worldbuilding and characters.

So it's weird to come back to it now and find out it's....actually the weakest of the three films (in my opinion, anyways). I can't quite put my finger on why, but the second film feels like it "drifts along" more than the other two. Like things "just happen" without as much input from the characters. Again, I'm not sure why it feels like that, because it's not like the characters aren't proactive and shaping the way the story unfolds.

None of that is to say that the second movie is bad by any stretch of the imagination. It introduces a bunch of really cool new concepts that do a great job of expanding the world and characters. It just had that weird drifty feeling to it that the other two lacked. Does anyone even know what I'm talking about here, or am I just crazy??

It's nuts how much of a touchstone "For the Dancing and the Dreaming" became in fandom culture. Ten years later, and I still see this song popping up in fics from every fandom under the sun. I think that's a testament to how beautiful Stoic and Valka's reunion was.

Unfortunately, Drago Bludvist is....not a very good villain, imo. He kinda just screams a lot, and that's it. His whole thing of imitating dragons in order to subdue them is cool, but it really needed to be backed up by a stronger personality. But it's not too much of an issue since really, his Bewilderbeast is the real obstacle for the heroes to overcome.

Now, The Hidden World is a weirdly controversial movie within the fandom. I still see people whose hatred for this film rivals that of the Tales of Arcadia fandom's hatred for Rise of the Titans. Which...I gotta admit, doesn't make a ton of sense to me. Like, I can understand not liking the bittersweet ending, but it's not as though THW went out of its way to ruin the entire series.

Looking at the series as a whole, I'd say THW feels like the most logical and organic conclusion to the series. Especially if you've read the books or seen the tie-in tv shows. I knew going into this movie that it would end with the dragons leaving--DeBlois even told us as much in an interview leading up to the film's release. And I'm okay with that.

The first movie touches on the theme of loss with Hiccup's leg. The second movie digs into that theme a bit more, with the loss of his parents (first Valka, who thankfully is found again, then Stoic). The Hidden World dives headfirst into the idea. Loss is no longer a mere consequence of the story's events, but the thematic backbone of the whole movie. And it's here that I realized the series has always been about loss, because the series has always been about growing up. You can't mature without losing something, whether it's a place, a person, or your childhood naivete.

HTTYD uses its fantastic premise to explore a painful reality of our own world, and it does so in a way that's entertaining, sincere, and encouraging. Hiccup has lost so much on his journey to adulthood, but he's also grown strong enough to be able to rise above it. He'll be okay. Toothless will be okay. And we'll all be okay too. Idk, maybe I'm reading too much into it, but that's my takeaway from the series, and it's definitely something that I've needed to hear more than once as I've grown up.

Grimmel is definitely a huge step up from Drago for me. He's essentially who Hiccup would have become if he'd lacked that compassion that caused him to spare Toothless in the first film. I also love his overall demeanor and presence. He's not a force of nature, or a feral war-lord. He's just a Guy who is very, very good at his job and knows it. Plus, F. Murray Abraham just has a really cool voice.

Unfortunately, as much as I like Grimmel as a villain, he's still outclassed by Viggo Grimborn from Race to the Edge.

I can't get over how insanely good the visuals are in this series. Especially the textures. Like, there's times in the first movie where the textures look so good that the actual models almost can't keep up. I can see what Toothless's scales feel like, the scratchy weave of Hiccup's tunic, the coarse fur of Stoic's cloak. HTTYD is the only series I can think of that seamlessly pulls off a "realistic" look with animation. The world feels real, without taking away from the suspension of disbelief that makes animation such a freeing medium. It's as if they came to the edge of the uncanny valley, then got into a hot air balloon and floated across without ever touching it.

Looking back, I think this was just the perfect series to be a teenager with. It's just the right blend of action, adventure, and emotion, all wrapped up in a wholesome and often heart-rending tale of a boy and his dragon growing up together. I really wish we could have more series like this.

(Edit) Also the Light Fury is my favorite dragon species in the entire series, no I will not take that back, she's super pretty and sparkly and I just want to pat her on her cute nubby head.

[acaciapines]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

i was tagged by @snarky-wallflower and i love talking, lets go!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

70 total, but 5 of those are chara's! so under my name its 65.

2. What’s your total word count?

1,427,738.....

cannot wait to break 2 million w the owl house daemon au. lets go!! never stop!!!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

whatever i'm into, but for fandoms i see myself continuing to write for in the near-ish future: deltarune and the owl house!

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

you're something special: my first kris-identity fic! i have mixed feelings on this one lol. you can tell its the first i wrote and i hadnt yet solidified my version of kris, tho i think this one probably fits better with canon. overall i like it though!

but then a bigger heart grew back: ooooooh i REALLY love this one. its postcanon owl house fic centering on hunter's grief over flapjack's death and his friendship with waffles!!! i wrote and posted it the DAY after the finale came out which is still really wild to me. its also the only fic ive seen that uses my favorite headcanon of 'hunter didnt carve waffles, she found him' which im so so fond of.

i hope your organs fail you (before i do): this was the first deltarune fic i wrote after chapter 2 came out!! the beginning of my deltarune spiral....its sort of a messy non-chronological look at deltarune's various routes and how kris might experiencing the game's multiple save files. also it has such a banger title. salt lake city by motherfolk is just banger after banger lyrics-wise

non-imaginary friends: god i hate that this is up here dkgjdfg i wrote it back when deltarune first came out and it SHOWS. i refuse to reread it but i think it's kris trying and failing to introduce the dark worlds to asriel. c'mon guys ive written so many better deltarune fics. blease. let this one rest in the past <3

we don't belong (but we're together): oooh, a warrior cats one! im....i mean, this one is like, fine, i guess. it follows hollyleaf and jayfeather in an au where the two of them flee through the tunnels. it has fun lore and i do like my oc pine but. man. its also the fic where i gave hollyleaf a power and if theres one thing i would change about my warriors au its that holly would NOT get a power. this is why i pre-write all my fics before posting now!

5. Do you respond to comments?

yes!! or at least i try my best to. i love and appreciate all my comments sometimes im just Bad at responding to them....i never know what to say beyond 'wow thank you' so sometimes i try to focus more on comments where i can actually say something of substance, yknow?

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh thats hard hmmmmmmm. i think i'd have to say it's and i want to tell you something-- which is a fic about kris & ralsei & the player/soul, where susie and noelle try to save kris from the soul, but both kris and ralsei know they cant survive without it. so in the end kris shatters the soul and is implied to die rather than keep being trapped.

its!!! certainly a time!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmmmm. i think most of my ending are pretty bittersweet so in terms of pure happy ending...gonna go for a deep cut here and say its my naddpod fic +1 dad in which moonshine meets lucanus when shes a kid and they hit it off and they get to have that father-daughter relationship from the start. bc lucanus is the BEST naddpod npc and oh my god he loves his daughter so so much you guys--

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have a few times but its never been like, super major. the funniest time is. i deleted the comment so i dont have the exact wording but im pretty sure someone called me a fandom-deserting cur for. not writing more warrior cat fanfiction?

like what were they expecting. truly.

9. Do you write smut?

no im very aroace lol. i barely write romance.

10. Do you write crossovers?

i used to!!! i did the adventure zone crossed with both how to train your dragon and pokemon mystery dungeon: explorers of sky. i was a different person back then. i dont think i'd do it now, but. who knows.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but i HAVE had a fic pod-ficced which is still so amazing. like......woag. someone liked my fic enough to read the words out loud?????? huh????

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

not exactly co-written but both sometimes i think i left you just to see if i'd be missed and a buy one, get one free sort of friend were inspired by conversations i had with my friend @hyperfixations-go-brr! they would not have existed without those long discord chats. halloween festival will live on forever. synth my love.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

im not super into ships beyond like. basic 'oh thats fun' when reading but i WILL actually give the two im the most excited to write in my dess raises kris au someday:

noelle/susie/ralsei: YOU HAVE TO TRUST ME. like. this is an au where noelle basically replaces kris in the fun gang but not in the prophecy and dkjgdfg its about. this budding relationship. and ralsei clinging to the prophecy that doesnt want noelle here and susie who bucks against anything that acts like it knows what shes supposed to do and noelle struggling with the return of her sister and a world that wants to write her out of the story and all of them wanting to be there for their friends but ralsei is dealing with so so much and in the end she gets to throw off her chains and be free <3 noelle/susie/ralsei is so real in my heart.

dess/chara: literally the funniest queerplatonic relationship ever. theyre reluctant coparents. dess trusts chara with kris's life. chara would never ever let dess watch either frisk OR kris unsupervised. chara is 'i can fix you' to dess's 'im literally the most perfect wife in the world.' dess doesn't believe romantic love is a real thing people feel. chara puts xir kids above everything else. dess never asked to be a mother even though she literally kidnapped her best friends baby sibling. they get married for the tax benefits. they should absolutely get a divorce.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

oh god theres so many i would love to finish but its been so long i doubt i'll go back to them lol. the sequel to +1 dad that involves baby moonshine going to gladeholm. wall-e daemon au. gravity falls transcedence au daemon au. percy jackson daemon au. deltarune daemon au fangame.

as you can see its mostly various daemon aus. they were fun while they lasted! but ive moved on </3

16. What are your writing strengths?

pov you are me suddenly forgetting every single thing i have ever written.

i think im very good at writing otherkin or otherwise nonhuman characters. the comments that always bring me the most joy are those on my otherkin fics, by people who were able to see themselves in what i wrote--i think this is a thing that took me a lot of failed attempts to get just right and im really really proud of what i have.

im very good at writing daemon aus <3 there is sort of. an art to figuring out if one a work even needs daemons and two how daemons enhance or add to some aspect of the original work. theres a lot of things i like that i dont think really work with daemons but i always really enjoy figuring out how to add daemons and how to make my daemons like, characters in their own right, you know?

i like to think im good at dialogue and characterization! theres a few characters--kris and the collector, firefly to an extent--that im really proud of the voices i've made for them.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

fight scenes. fight scenes. oh my god i hate them so much they are SO HARD. stop making me put!! visual things!! in my text based medium!!!

really any scene that relies on having a strong idea of like, physical descriptions and sense of a place--i have aphantasia so having to describe scenery and landscape and just, anything really is always a struggle for me.

i also struggle with pacing, to an extent, especially across longer works (im looking at you, owl house daemon au)--knowing how long a plot arc needs to last and how to make it interesting still even when its going to be around for 600k+ words is a challenge and if the owl house daemon au was my first massive fic undertaking i dont think i'd be able to do it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

god im so bad at it but i really really am trying to be better--one big thing im going to focus on in my owl house daemon au edit is based on this because i want luz's identity to stick with her throughout the fic rather than it taking a backseat, but i am not a spanish speaker!! i know like, a LITTLE, but nowhere near enough to feel confident writing it.

so. its a time!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

warrior cats. and beyond just 'oh its the first fandom i posted fic for' no i was writing warrior cat fanfiction from the START. i was out there on the playground coming up with warrior cat ocs. i was printing this stuff out in the school library. i would hand-write fanfiction about my childhood cats becoming warrior cats and starting their own clan. i would roleplay warrior cats on my bedroom floor with pictures of cats i cut out of printer paper and bits of plastic folders i folded into triangles and write down the stories i came up with.

i was the most warrior cat kid to warrior cat kid. I Have Always Been This Way.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

ohhhhhh this is SUCH a tough question i have so many im so fond of, but i think i'm going to have to go with alterhuman. it's an animorphs fic about tobias post-canon and its an exploration of species identity and being a hawk and as a red-tailed hawk myself, a lot of it is deeply personal, a lot of it is my love letter to animorphs, and a lot of it is neffit, who is the best oc i have ever created, hands down.

as for tags, uh....anybody who wants to talk about their fics! even if we dont know each other!! go forth! ramble on about your own stuff for an hour!! truly so so fun.

also @wynterwulf7 and @mackerelgray and @hyperfixations-go-brr. obviously. <3 even if its about fic that isnt on ao3.

[ljf613]

20 Questions for Writers

I think I've done this one before, but it's been a while, so let's do it again! (Tagged by @pencilofawesomeness)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? Officially, 71. (I also have a handful of fics that I've moved into the anonymous collection-- mostly unfinished WIPs I currently have no plan to return to.)

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 231,362-- I'm so close to a quarter million words, hopefully I'll get there by the end of the year.

3. What fandoms do you write for? The majority of my posted fics are for Avatar: The Last Airbender (plus a few for Avatar: Legend of Korra), and I've written several fics for the Miraculous Ladybug and Fairy Tail fandoms. Currently, the fics I'm working on with the most regularity are for the How to Train Your Dragon and Once Upon a Time fandoms (A Better Version of Our Best and Not My Homeland Anymore, respectively). I've also written fics for numerous other fandoms, including Tales of Arcadia, Fullmetal Alchemist, Teen Wolf, Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic, The Familiar of Zero, and The Dragon Prince. And of course, I'm always thinking and plotting out new stories for fandoms I've yet to write for.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? —5. fifteen for a moment - 956 —4. I'm worse at what I do best - 959 —3. we all bend and break sometimes - 1,132 —2. you don't get what all this is about - 1,179 —1. nobody wants to pay the asking price - 1,286 These are all part of my ATLA we all want love/we all want honor series. As a matter of fact, my twenty-one most popular fics-- by a long shot-- are the twenty-one parts of the same series. (Even the least popular, war is not freedom, with 627 kudos, has over twice as many kudos as my most popular non-wawl/wawh fic.) (Part twenty-two, which I just posted this week after a two year hiatus, obviously hasn't gotten quite as much engagement yet, but at the rate the kudos have been coming in, it'll likely be on par with the others within six months, if not sooner.) My five most popular fics outside of this series are as follows: —5. “Can You Please Just Hold Me?” [ATLA] - 243 —4. Nonbender Zuko AU (Outline) [ATLA] - 259 —3. “Are You Jealous?” [ATLA] - 261 —2. i bled out tears (the only water in the desert) [FMA] - 265 —1. The Bells of Kardia Cathedral [Fairy Tail] - 286

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! I love responding to comments for the simple reason that I always want to talk about my stories, and who better to discuss them with than the people who love them enough to leave comments on them?

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oh, unquestionably It's Winter Again (And I Can't Wait To See You) [ATLA]. I like writing open-ended stories, so sometimes I'll write oneshots with angsty but ultimately hopeful endings (that may or may not end up developing into full-fledged series). This story, however, was not left optimistically open-- it is just angsty and tragic and I LOVE it.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? The happiest? Uh, just going by the completed fics… I want to say Something Like a Love Story [ATLA], which I think has one of the sweetest endings I've ever written, but even though the story itself has a happy ending, it is a pre-canon story about Hakoda and Kya, and anyone reading it knows how their story ended, so it really ends up feeling more bittersweet than anything else. So maybe Just Between Us (Did the Love Affair Maim You Too?) [ATLA]? It's a nice, solid hurt/comfort fic where I really made the characters work for their happy ending, so it does have a sweet, feel-good payoff. But there are three main characters in that story, and only two of them actually get a real happy ending, so maybe not. (Zuko and Toph are definitely living happily ever after, but Mai still has some more work to do before she can say the same.) I guess I've got to go with The Bells of Kardia Cathedral. That was a just a cute, fun little story full of humorous misunderstandings, but at the end of the day, everyone involved got their happy endings.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Honestly, no-- which is pleasantly surprising, considering that a lot of my stuff is kind of niche and involves unpopular and often Problematique ships.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? No, your local neighborhood prude over here is not about to write anything stemier than the occasional chaste makeout scene.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Yes, but I think about way more crossovers than I've ever actually written. The craziest one is probably a tie between Fairy Tail in NIFLHEIM [Fairy Tail x Shall We Date?: THE NIFLHEIM+] (for pure crackiness) and my untitled Miraculous Ladybug/Fullmetal Alchemist AU (for meshing two canons that had no business blending so well together).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not really-- there was an incident a while back where someone compiled all of the wawl/wawh series into a single fic, but they posted it privately, and I think they just wanted it all in one place for downloading purposes. In any case, I'm pretty sure it's gone now. (For those interested in having this series all together, it's in one piece on FFN.)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not as far as I know. But someone did make a podfic for this side of the sun!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nah. I've talked about collaborating with a few different writers over the years, but nothing has ever worked out. (Yet!)

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Nathan and Haley from One Tree Hill. No question.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? The People They Once Were [ATLA/LOK]. This was the first Avatar-verse fic I ever wrote. For so long, I wanted to write something for this fandom, but I had absolutely zero ideas. (In fact, I initially watched LOK with the hope that it would give me some fic-writing fodder, which it did.) And then I finally had this idea, and I was so excited about it, but I didn't quite… know what to do with it. I probably won't ever come back to this one, but I am grateful to it for breaking that ice and allowing me to help me get into writing for this fandom (in which I've been quite prolific).

16. What are your writing strengths? Closing lines and action between dialogue. I try really hard to end everything just the right way, and I do my best to make sure the reader can follow what the characters are doing as they talk to each other. I also like to think I'm decent at writing emotional descriptions.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Fighting scenes and visual descriptions. I have a hard enough time making sure I maintain a solid spatial awareness of what characters are doing where in a normal interaction. (Aphantasia, my beloathed.)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I've done it before, sure. While reading fics in the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom, I noticed that several writers had used Hebrew as a stand-in for the Ishbalan language, and as I have some familiarity with the language (not that I have any real fluency, and I certainly couldn't carry on any more than a very simple conversation, but I can read it well enough, and am comfortable with its syntax and grammatical conventions), I decided I could use it, too. While writing my FMA fic, i bled out tears (the only water in the desert), I also interspersed a bit of Yiddish and Aramaic, as those languages mesh well with Hebrew. The whole thing was really fun! In general, while I'm not against writing dialogue in another language, I'm not well-versed enough in linguistics to invent my own, so it would have to be an actual real-world language, and I would have to have enough of an understanding of said language to be able to play around with it. (Lately, I've been thinking about writing a retelling of one of my favorite biblical stories, in which I would almost certainly use some amount of Hebrew dialogue.)

19. First fandom you wrote for? Well, I vaguely recall writing some proto-fanfiction in elementary school for assignments and stuff ("write about what you think happened to this character after the book was over"), and somewhere out there in the world is a binder with the outline (and a handful of scenes) of an elaborate Twilight fanfic I plotted out in middle school (complete with a vampire creation story!). But the first fandom I really wrote for was Familiar of Zero, back in 2015. This was still three years before I actually discovered fanfiction, but I finished all four seasons of the show in about a week and was struck with such a solid idea of what would happen directly following the final scene (probably some of those old school assignments sticking with me) that I had to write it down immediately. I did eventually post it (basically untouched) on AO3 as Hero's Return. The first fandom I actually posted for was Miraculous Ladybug, not long after discovering AO3. (The first fic I ever posted was A Miraculous Night.)

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Oh, undoubtedly A Better Version of Our Best. I consider this story my magnum opus-- I love the family drama aspect, the parallel storylines spark such joy, and the worldbuilding and character development has been so interesting. I'm also experimenting with some new storytelling techniques and pacing strategies. I think it's really a culmination of everything I've ever learnt about writing and storytelling (so far!).

Tagging @lynzine and anyone else interested!

[yuzukahachimir]

-Hiccup in Gift of the Night fury called Astrid``milady´´

-Astrid in the Second movie called Hiccup ``baby´´

-Hiccup and Astrid in Homecoming called each other ``honey´´

Me all the time:

[peachyysugaa]

blood castle i. || enha 02z

♚──────────────────────────♚

♜ main pairing: vampire! 02z x gn! reader

♜ genre: hogwarts au, mystery, fluff/angst

♜ wc: 2k

♜ warnings: mentions of blood (pg13), purposefully lowercase

♜ other pairings: lisa x namjoon, slight rose x jungkook

♜ a/n: disclaimer that i don't actually ship these pairings, i just find it fitting for the story :] also kinda boring chapter but we're setting things up <3 also hearts at the end of each chapter to keep track of how oc gets along with 02z hehe lmk what you think!

♜ index: teaser | next | masterlist

♚──────────────────────────♚

i. make the most of it

"what will i do when you're both gone? jennie just left and you two are next!" you pout in your train seat as your best friends exchange teasing smiles. as you get closer and closer to hogwarts, you can't help but keep thinking about rose and lisa inevitably graduating this year.

"i don't know y/n, maybe find some friends your age?" lisa teases. you groan outwardly, tilting your head back.

rose, the ever-exemplary hufflepuff, extends her hands out to yours on the table and grabs hold of them. you stop your obnoxious groaning to stare back at her kind smile. "lili has a point, y/nie. it wouldn't hurt to branch out this year so that lisa and i don't have to worry about you."

your eyes widened. "worry?! what's that supposed to mean?"

rose lets go of your hands to cover her mouth as she laughs while lisa is losing it. the gryffindor 7th year is wiping joyful tears out of her eyes, which isn't helping your case.

you sit, pouting once again and waiting for them to explain.

"two words, y/n," lisa begins while holding two fingers up in a peace sign that you know is anything but peaceful. "you're. clumsy."

"am not!" you defied. your best friends exchange looks once again before raising an eyebrow at you. "tell me one time when i was clumsy!"

"remember that time you tried to shut a mandrake up by putting your hand on its mouth and then it bit you?" rose asks.

"oh! that was so funny!" lisa says, trying to hold back her laughter. "my favorite is when she made a lizard instead of a mini dragon in transfiguration but then it burned her eyebrows off!"

as they share your most embarrassing moments, your ears begin heating up and all you want to do is transfigure yourself into the train seat.

"i stand corrected..." you mumble out unwillingly.

"we love you, y/nie. we only want someone to look out for you when we graduate," rose says as lisa nods.

"fine, fine. i get it, moms."

"you love us."

"yea, yea, i love my two moms who come after my clumsiness all the time."

"as you should, now let's get changing. the train is almost at school."

the older hufflepuff was right. you could see the tall towers of the second home you've come to love in the distance as you glance out the window. this year may be bittersweet since the last of your friend group would be leaving you behind, but you were determined to make the most of it with them and perhaps make some new friends this year.

"i'll stay to keep our spot, you two go ahead," lisa tells you and rose.

"going to text your joonie?" rose teases. the gryffindor's ears have a red tinge at the sound of her nickname for her boyfriend.

"just go before the changing rooms fill up," she mumbles. but as you close the door to your shared booth, you can see that she has already pulled out her phone with a cheeky smile as she waves hi on facetime with namjoon who is slightly older than her and currently working as a magizoologist for the ministry.

you smile to yourself, remembering their relationship when you were just a first year. "come on, yn!" rose calls out.

you break out of your daze and see her several feet away from you. "sorry, eonnie!"

you take your hand off the handle, which you didn't register it was still on, and start to move towards her, carrying your blouse, tie and skirt. before you could reach her, you bump into a hard chest.

you hear a deep oof noise from the figure as you rub your forehead.

"i am so sorry!" you hurriedly whisper.

"you're alright, y/n." you recognize the voice and look up to see sim jaeyun from your house and year. "did you hit your head too hard?" he kindly worries.

"i—"

"yn!!" rose shouts.

"sorry, jaeyun," you apologetically smile as you brush past him. "coming, eonnie!!"

you could've sworn he said something like it was nice to see you, but you were far too focused on not letting rose wait any long. she's definitely amicable like most hufflepuffs, but like most hufflepuffs, you probably don't want to see them angry. you should know since lisa says you're already bad hangry.

it's a quick in and out of the changing room and back to your booth where lalisa waits, staring out the window and watching the castle come closer. it's like a wrestler tag team as you and rose high-five her on your way in and her way out. immediately, the two of you settle down and as you get comfortable in your seat, you notice that she's smirking with you, her eyebrow raised.

"why are you looking at me like that, eonnie?" you ask hesitantly. your fingers look more interesting picking fights with each other.

"oh, nothing," she replies, not giving up her smirk. "just wondering when you and jake were close."

"he's literally the same year and house as me. i can't go a year without a class with him."

she hums like she doesn't believe you. "really?"

"really, really."

"really, really, really?" you groan at her response as she starts to giggle.

"do you wanna talk about your crush on jeon jungkook then, eonnie?" she shuts up then and there, and it's your turn to smirk. "thought so."

"that's hogwarts' idol right there, yn. everyone likes him one way or another, so hush!"

"hush about what?" lisa asks as she slides the door open.

"nothi—"

"jeon jungkook." rose glares at you.

"ohh, rosie's crush of 6 years?" your other friend confirms as she closes the door.

"the one and only."

"you know, he and i are co-captains this year for quidditch. you should just come to our practices."

"will he even notice me? i mean..." your focus on their conversation starts to waver as you glance through the door window. outside your door is the familiar trolley witch with all her pastries and drinks, and you can't help but have a craving for your favorite chocolate frogs. you also can't help but notice the other figure with the trolley witch: the very same sim jaeyun you bumped into earlier.

"eonnies, i'm going to buy some chocolate frogs. do you want any?" you ask, keeping an eye on the figures outside your window.

"cauldron cake for me please!"

"let's have every flavor beans for old time's sakes!"

"alright," you say as you slide the door open and close. they go back to their conversation about a plot to get the hogwarts idol that you're sure is bound to go wrong.

"7 blood lollipops please." you hear jake order. you recall him having a large group of friends across different houses and different years, but for all of them to like blood lollipops is quite unheard of.

"you're not going to have all of those, are you?" you ask him, approaching the trolley.

"y/n," he greets with a smile and a shake of his head as he hands his coins to the witch. "no, my friends and i all really like them. i think i would have a headache if i were to eat all 7."

"2 chocolate frogs, bertie's beans, and a cauldron cake please," you order before turning back to him. "does it really taste like blood, or is it just to trick people into thinking you're vampires?"

jake's face pales though it's hard to see because he's already on the pale side and you're counting out your coins to give to the trolley witch. "personally, i think it tastes like cherry."

you hum as you gather your goodies together, and jake is thankful that you're not paying too much attention to how he reacted. "i'll take your word for it."

the trolley witch moves along, doing what she's done for many years and more to come. you're finally focusing on him more now that you have all your snacks and accomplished being a good citizen by paying the fees. your eyes search his face, go past his sharp jawline, and make their way to the shiny prefect badge on his black and gold robes. the prefect engraving is hard to see against the blinding gold of the hufflepuff badge, but it's hard to miss.

"oh, are you a prefect?" you ask curiously.

"yup, so don't stay out too late. i might have to write you up," he teases.

you playfully roll your eyes at him. "please, when am i not a model student?"

"i would say right now because we're about five minutes away from the castle, and you still don't have your robes on, miss l/n," he jokingly tsks at you.

"ahh, but you see, that's not my fault there, mr. prefect," you banter back.

"oh? then maybe i won't have to give you the first detention?"

"well, mr. sim, i was only taking care of my precious eonnies and buying them snacks. i paid my fees and also engaged in conversation with my fellow classmate, so i've been a little preoccupied," you acted out, playing the role of an innocent student.

"hmm.. engaging in conversation with your classmates on the first day does seem to follow the rules," he lightheartedly agrees. jake is about to add more, but his friends call out to him.

"hey, jake, what's taking so long?!"

"you'd better go take care of your friends, mr. sim," you tease. "be a good hyung, won't you?"

his beaming smile causes your heart to skip a few beats. "alright, miss l/n, but make sure not to let me catch you out of uniform." he waves before hurrying to his own booth.

when you open the door to yours, a chorus of oooh's from your eonnies is what you receive. you roll your eyes at them before shutting the door and grabbing your robe. you can see theirs were already on, the equally shining, gold head girl badge pinned on rose's robe.

"i think she'll be just fine on our own when we're gone, rosie," lisa teases as you slip your arms through your sleeves and tuck your wand in your pocket.

"just don't keep one of my prefects distracted, y/nie," rosie adds.

"so long as you aren't distracted by your head boy, rosie," you tease back.

"no way, jeon jungkook is head boy," she gasps at you.

"i don't know, but i just caught you simping in 4k!" you stick your tongue out at her as she whines and lalisa throws her head back in laughter.

"there really is only one choice though, so it probably is him," lisa affirms.

"i swear, if you two are wrong..." rose pouts.

"but if we're not, you'll get to spend more time with him and get to know him instead of just admiring him from afar like everyone else!" you console.

"well, we'll find out soon enough. we're here," lisa announces as she grabs her trunk from the top rack, helping you get yours and rose hers.

"thanks, eonnie! so glad your long legs are so useful!" you thank.

"yah! they'll be useful for kicking you too, ungrateful brat," she jokingly chastises.

"oh no, lisa eonnie is going to kill me!" you shout dramatically. "rose eonnie, save me!"

"it's going to be a long year," she sighs with a smile keeping close behind as you run off the train and lisa chases after you.

jake's expression mirrors rose's as he watches the trio run off to the nearest carriage. a crack forms in his blood lollipop as he sucks on it harder, the sweet taste of blood running across his tongue. "hyung, come on. let's get in the carriage," jungwon calls to him, his own sucker making his words slightly muddled.

"coming," he mumbles, securing his trunk and stepping into the carriage where his 6 friends wait for him.

their fangs are dripping with the blood of the lollipops.

♚──────────────────────────♚

jake: ♥ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ (lvl. 1)

jay: ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ (lvl. 1)

sunghoon: ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ (lvl. 1)

[retvenkos]

romantic at heart | m.

Legend of Korra - Mako x Reader, fluff

tw: none

word count: 4.6k

A/N: canon? who needs her? certainly not this fic. korrasami deserved to be canon earlier so i vaguely mentioned it, and mako and bolin’s apartment is the perfect setting don’t @ me.

Summary: Mako has always had bad luck when it comes to love, but with (Y/n), things feel easy. So why, then, is it so hard to admit it?

the three times he didn’t say it, and the one time he did.

one;

“I’m telling you guys, this is going to be great! Part Four is my favorite in The Adventures of Nuktuk: Hero of the South!” 

Mako shared an amused look with (Y/n) as Bolin led the way into the darkened theater, holding open the door for the group to enter. Asami and Korra passed hand in hand, and when (Y/n) walked past Bolin, they tossed a piece of popcorn at him and Bolin caught it in his mouth.

Mako brought up the rear of the group, and as they walked up to find their seats, he whispered, “How many parts are there, Bo?”

“Seven! And the Finale’s great, don’t get me wrong, but it just doesn’t have the heart that part four does.”

“That’s just because he kisses Ginger,” (Y/n) leaned in and whispered to Mako, earning an incredulous “hey!” from Bolin.

“How’d that work out, by the way?” Asami turned to the earthbender with what sounded like genuine curiosity and Bolin chuckled nervously.

“Ah, well, you know, the hearts of mover stars are fickle, so we didn’t last long… there was something about it being a publicity stunt, but that didn’t make much sense, so…”

“Well it’s her loss,” Korra elbowed Bolin in the side with a smile and he forced a chuckle.

“She doesn’t deserve you, Bo.”

“Yeah, you’re a great mover star.”

A few people in the theater shushed them, and the group settled down into their chairs, just moments before the lights dimmed further and the mover started. The disembodied voice of Varrick boomed through the speakers with a recap of the previous 3 parts of the daring adventure, and everyone fell silent, slowly getting sucked into the mover before them.

Ever since their debut, the Nuktuk movies were a success - a staple of Republic City culture - getting replayed in theatres again and again. After learning that Mako hadn’t seen Nuktuk in its entirety, Bolin called for a state of emergency and got the whole group together so they could schedule a time for a complete rewatch of the seven-part masterpiece.

Mako had been planning to make some excuse - a series of cases that Beifong put him up to, or a slew of paperwork that some higher-paid coworkers pawned off onto him. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to miss something for work, and it wouldn’t be the first attempt at lying to get out of a viewing party. Just three months ago he narrowly avoided a showing of Love amongst the Dragons by faking sickness and saying that Beifong told him to sleep all day so he could be back at work the next. Everyone but Bolin believed him, and Bolin (who didn’t want to see it either but promised Asami he would go) let it slide.

After that, Bolin was better at guessing when Mako was lying, and whenever he needed Mako’s compliance, he set (Y/n) up to the task of cajoling Mako to come along.

So far, their track record had been impeccable.

(Y/n) chuckled at something they saw on screen, and Mako turned to them. “How many cases of Vari-dye do you think Varrick sold after that product placement?” They gestured to the screen where the once blonde Ginger flagrantly mentioned her hair dye product before becoming a, well… ginger. The script was somehow able to loosely tie the product placement into the plot, but the moment earned a couple of well-earned laughs throughout the theater.

“Millions, most likely. Aren’t these movers big in Ba Sing Se?”

“As comedies,” (Y/n) muttered, leaning in, clearly trying to keep their voice down so Bolin didn’t hear. The theater around them was dark and silent, but the light reflected in (Y/n)’s eyes was full of life and mirth. Mako found himself unable to look away.

He cleared his throat, “You do have to give it to Nuktuk and his comedic timing.”

“And Juji’s heart-wrenching death and subsequent resurrection.”

Mako found himself chuckling at their lame joke, and for once, he didn’t mind. (Y/n) smiled triumphantly, as though they had accomplished something truly grand, and angled their bag of popcorn towards Mako. He took some and popped a piece in his mouth, his laughter still dying on his lips. 

“Varrick must be quite the director, to get you to laugh in a totally serious, not-a-comedy mover.”

“Varrick?” and there was just enough suggestion in Mako’s words to say all that he couldn’t, though why he couldn’t seem to get anything else out, he didn’t know.

Things were always easy with (Y/n); their smiles were soft and infectious, their tactics in getting him to open up were effortless and effective, and falling in love with them had been the most simple and uncomplicated thing in this world. It should have been with such ease that Mako told them that it was them that got him into the theater and their corny comments that made him burn inside, like a thousand dying comets that took the form of shooting stars.

But for some reason, he was stuck.

Unsurprising, really, Mako had never really had luck when it came to love and even friendship. There was always something complicating things; there were always two sides of him, fighting the other for reasons even he couldn’t fathom. Eventually, one of them would lose. Eventually, something would give. 

But until that eventuality…

“I suppose I am quite the comedian. Should I write a screenplay?” (Y/n) was speaking, but something in their demeanor was different - a little stunned - like they hadn’t considered something before and it was only now dawning on them, slowly, but comfortably. Easy. “It would have to be a sequel to Nuktuk, of course. Maybe I can introduce the grumpy, mysterious fire-bender who he’s now forced to share a quest with?”

(Y/n) nudged him in the shoulder, already rolling their eyes at their own idea. Mako looked down, suddenly interested in picking the perfect piece of popcorn. “Yeah. If you’re making it, why not?”

(Y/n) snorted and turned back to the film.

two;

Taking the steps to his apartment two at a time, Mako fished for his keys in the pocket of his pants. Walking the beat had the potential to be more trouble than it was worth, and often Mako found himself at the gym at the end of the day, taking out his frustration the way he used to - pro-bending. Well, not so much pro-bending, anymore, seeing as they disbanded the Fire Ferrets, and dissolved the team, but it was the same training, nonetheless, and Mako had been a pro-bender so long that oftentimes, nothing felt more comfortable than the gym.

As he walked down the hall to his door - second on the right, Bolin had insisted - Mako could hear the sounds of laughter and the beeping of the oven. Despite himself, he smiled, breathing in deeply as he fiddled with the lock and opened the door.

Inside the tiny apartment, (Y/n) and Bolin were working side by side, leaning over the oven as they looked at the baked goods that lay within. The counters were a mess of cluttered ingredients and mismatched bake wear, Pabu had tracked flour across the carpet, and by every measure it was chaotic, but Mako simply leaned against the doorframe, speaking just loud enough to be heard. “Stress baking, again? Y’know, I’m really starting to regret giving you a key.”

"This was all Bolin, actually.” (Y/n) pulled the baking sheet out of the oven and set it down before turning to Mako with their usual countenance. “He told me to come over - he bought a set of mixing bowls and everything.”

“He didn’t buy more counter space?”

“Hey!” Bolin called incredulously through a mouth full of baked goods. Pabu scuttled beneath him, eating the crumbs that fell to the floor. “Counters wouldn’t fit.”

“It’s alright Bo,” (Y/n) nudged his arm with their shoulder, turning back to the task at hand. They used an old spatula to take their masterpiece off of the pan, and Bolin took two from them. 

“You have to try this batch, Mako, (Y/n)’s gotten really good at their green tea cookies.”

“Oh?”

Mako shut the door behind him and walked over to the couch. (Y/n) met him halfway with their signature, light green cookie, Mako took it with an appreciative smile. “The secret is in the matcha. I wasn’t putting in enough before, so they didn’t taste right.”

Mako broke off a bit of the cookie, making sure to get a bit that had a white chocolate chip in it, and savored the taste. (Y/n) was watching him with one of their expectant smiles, and he nodded his head, the bittersweet flavor still lingering in his mouth. “These are your best yet.”

“High praise, coming from you.” And there was an edge of sarcasm to their voice, but their eyes were bright. Mako just looked at them for a moment, really looked at them in all of their casual beauty. (Y/n) had moved into his life so early on and so slowly that Mako didn’t know what life would be like without their casual teasing and easy grins.

And, of course, their random (but not unwelcome) bouts of stress baking.

Mako must have been staring a bit too long, because (Y/n) raised a playful eyebrow, and not too long after, Bolin broke the silence. “Uh, Pabu and I have to go, and uh... y’know, do adult stuff, with uh....”

“With Korra?” (Y/n) supplied amusedly, turning to Bolin, who was stuffing a napkin with cookies hurriedly. 

“Yeah! Y’know, Avatar stuff...” Bolin shrugged, slipping out the door, only to open it up again and grab his shoes before shoving off again.

(Y/n) scoffed and Mako sighed, calling after him. “Real smooth, Bo!” 

A muffled response called out to them, and (Y/n) laughed, walking back over to the kitchen area, where they started to put together another batch of cookies, measuring the sugar with their hands and putting it into a bowl with butter. “I’m surprised you haven’t been kicked out from noise complaints.”

Yeah, well Bolin charmed our neighbors into liking us too much to see us go.”

“His charm does go far, doesn’t it?” Mako watched and (Y/n) moved through his apartment with ease, pulling spoons out of the drawers and cleaning the dishes as they went. Their practiced movements had the surety and preciseness of someone who lived there, and the thought was enough to make Mako’s throat dry.

“So,” Mako cleared his throat and walked over to (Y/n) passing them the egg they were reaching for. “you measure everything with your hands, and yet you’re constantly insisting that baking is a science. How does that work?”

“It’s all in the weight and look of it - a full cup is a far cry from a fourth.” (Y/n) mixed the ingredients together, their brow set in concentration, “Or, at least, that’s what my mom used to say. What I will tell you—” they looked up at Mako rather suddenly, that intensity still alight within them “—is that it’s in how it feels.”

“So the weight of it.”

“Yes... but it’s more than that.” (Y/n) looked at him with their sharp eyes, as though trying to judge something. “Go wash your hands,” and they jerked their head to the side, “I’ll show you.”

Mako didn’t even hesitate to do as they said, and even though Bolin had left, he could hear his voice - a surprised “what...?” - nagging the back of his mind. It was easy to shrug off. It was (Y/n). Everything was easy when it came to them.

“Alright,” (Y/n) said, with a hint of childish excitement, as Mako slung the towel he had used to dry his hands over his shoulder. “Give me your hands.”

Their touch tickled and their fingers - dry and powdery from the flour - grazed over his, opening his palms with a gentle sort of care.

“Here is one cup or so.” (Y/n) grabbed a handful of flour, transferred it to their other hand, and skimmed some off the top before placing it in his. “Yeah, you can feel the weight, and you can see how much there is, but you have to kind of trust that what you're feeling is right, because it’s not always going to feel the same, right? When you’re tired or you’ve been baking all day, things feel different, even though they’re the same.”

“All this for flour?”

“For each cup of flour. We need two and a half.”

“I can see why Bolin asks you to do the baking.” (Y/n) chuckled and guided his hands to the mixing bowl, where Mako let the flour slip out of his fingertips like really fine sand. “But I can tell that you feel it...” the last bit of flour fell out of his hands, but Mako let his hands hover near (Y/n)’s for just a moment longer, “and that’s good enough.”

They smiled, and it has all the serenity and beauty of dawn. “I’ll make a baker of you, yet.” They added more flour to the bowl and started mixing, their gaze flicking up to Mako. “One of these days you’re going to understand the feeling of it.”

“I...” and part of Mako wanted to say that he already did, that his feelings were about the only thing he understood when it came to moments like these, but the words got caught in his throat, and he found himself unable to get them out. “I think we’ll have to do a lot more baking, then.”

three;

Mako ran, the ground beneath his feet steady and his breathing exact. The beauty of Republic City Park surrounded him and in the early morning, when the air was just nippy enough to need a jacket, there were few people to be found. The usual groups of people practicing tai chi or playing Pai Sho weren’t out yet, and the sun was just peaking over the horizon. 

Morning runs often gave Mako a sense of clarity - there was very little he could focus on when in fast, forward motion, and everything complicated fell away. It was just him, the ground, and the fire in his veins. 

Mako slowed to a jog, and when he found an empty park bench, he sat down, wiping the sweat off of his brow. The shadows were just starting to creep away, losing to the brilliance of the sun and hiding in each recess and tiny alcove. The duck pond in front of him was warming to a crystal-like blue. Mako breathed out and tipped his head back, letting the stillness wash over him, his thoughts slowly catching up with him.

“Mako?”

And at first, he thought it was just his feelings for (Y/n) meeting up with him once more, but then he heard the steady pounding of the pavement and there they were jogging toward him, ushering in the morning with a comfortable pace.

“Heading into work later than usual?” They stopped by the bench and Mako slid over so they’d have room to sit.

“No, Beifong told me to take a day off. I usually do paperwork today, but she handed it off to someone else.”

(Y/n) hummed in acknowledgement. “So you’re joining Asami and me for our run, then?”

"Huh?”

“Asami and I usually go on a run, at this time. We meet here.”

“Asami told me that I should take a run since I wasn’t going into work today.”

Both of them scoffed, relaxing deeper into the metal bench. For a moment they just sat there, taking in the moment, and letting the world dawn on them, a beautiful mixture of colors - a painting slowly completing itself. Eventually, (Y/n) turned to Mako, an eyebrow raised in jest. “Do you reckon they think they’re being slick?”

“Probably - and it’ll only get worse once they get Korra on board.”

“Who’s to say they haven’t already?” The two chuckled, shaking their heads at the efforts of their friends, and (Y/n) knocked their knees together, leaning in a little closer. “It’s alright, I like spending time with you.”

“You’re gonna hate me once we finish this run, though.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to buy me some tea, afterwards.” (Y/n) stood up, stretching their arms and letting out a yawn. “To make it up to me, of course.”

Mako stifled a smile and stood, making a show of his weary sigh. “Alright” —(Y/n) rolled their eyes at him— “You drive a hard bargain.”

They started off at a slow jog, and every minute or so Mako upped the intensity until they were sprinting across Republic City Park, occasionally dodging the wayward soul taking a morning stroll. The world blurred around them, the lush foliage turning into swaths of green with the occasional pinprick of color - purple or yellow, green or blue. As they slowed down, the world became more defined, and when they came to a walk, (Y/n) pulled ahead and turned around so they could walk backwards, facing Mako with a breathless grin.

“You owe me at least a muffin to go along with that tea, after what you just pulled. I almost ran into a woman walking her toddler! Could you imagine what would have happened, had I hit her?”

Mako laughed, still coming down from his high, and (Y/n) grinned at the sound - dazzling and so bright, it put the sun to shame. “Let’s get you out of the park, then, before you start running down Pai Sho players.” 

The two fell into step beside each other, taking the path out of the park and into the busy streets. Already, Republic City was booming with life, and the two were rather quick to slip into the quiet tea shop that was just around the corner. Inside, the cafe was fairly empty, with slow music playing from the speakers. (Y/n) closed their eyes and breathed in the smell of freshly-baked muffins, and Mako was quick to look away when they caught him staring.

(Y/n) walked towards the case that held all of the baked goods, trying to read the different types they had displayed. “This is way better than trying to throw something together at my apartment.”

Mako pulled his attention away from the menu board, where he had been searching for the right type of tea. “Your apartment? You mean you actually have a place to go, other than mine?” 

“You gave me the key.”

“For emergencies.”

(Y/n) scoffed. “Well, ‘emergencies’ is in clear need of a mutual definition.”

The two ordered, and Mako paid, despite (Y/n) saying they had the money, and when their order was ready, they took a seat in the corner, next to a window that overlooked a busy intersection. (Y/n) insisted they split the muffin and gave half to Mako, and after settling into their more calm atmosphere, (Y/n) turned to Mako.

“So, what are you going to do for the rest of your day off?” (Y/n) took a sip of their tea and fixed Mako with one of those stares - the kind that saw through everything else, and somehow got down to his core. “I can’t imagine this is what you had planned.”

“Uh… I don’t know. I figured I’d go home and work on finding a lead to a case or something.”

“Even though Beifong told you to take the day off?”

“Well, I’m not at the station…” Mako trailed off, suddenly finding great interest in the rim of his cup.

“And you’re not going to work from home, either.” (Y/n) scoffed exaggeratedly, and though Mako was the most incorrigible person they’d ever met. Although, in their defense, he probably was. “Not on my watch.”

“So what, you’re going to find something for me to do all day?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Mako watched as (Y/n) sat back in the booth, a triumphant yet challenging smile on their face, and he felt the disbelief in his chest melt into something softer. It was there, again, that urge to say something both incredibly brave and terribly stupid; that desire to put all of his feelings into words and express them more truly than anything else.

“Alright,” Mako swallowed and allowed himself a small smile. “If that’s what it takes.

✧ *:･ﾟ

one;

Just when Mako had admitted to (Y/n) that he was an avid reader, he couldn’t remember, but at some point, they had found out, and ever since, the two spent their lazy weekends sprawled out on his sky blue sofa, books in hand. This time, (Y/n) had come earlier than usual, and by midday, they had already finished their novel - a fast-paced murder mystery with just a bit of a redemption arc for one of the main leads. They had talked about (Y/n)’s book while walking down to the market to get the necessary fixings for dinner, and when they came back to Mako’s tiny apartment, he passed them one of his favorites to read - a historical fiction that combined elements of notable legends and recorded history to make an interesting thriller with plenty of easy-to-digest drama. 

When (Y/n) took it from him, they took one look at the summary and raised an eyebrow.  “This is one of your favorites?” Mako had tried to push down his embarrassment, stuttering out some kind of response, but had just smiled. “It’s not a bad thing, just surprising. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

And they did. For the next hour and a half, the two sat in Mako’s apartment in relative silence, reading separate novels and making the occasional exclamation of shock, betrayal, joy, and surprise. Mako had looked over at (Y/n) occasionally, trying to judge where they were in the book, and whether they were enjoying it just as much as he had, the first time.

At some point in the day, the sun filtering through the window matured into a deeper, golden shade, turning the afternoon into early evening. Mako, who had been thoroughly engrossed in his novel for the better part of the day, stood up from his couch and stretched when he noticed the change in light. Letting out a sigh, he made his way over to the kitchen area. As he started to make dinner for the both of them, Mako missed the way that (Y/n) turned to look at him from their place on the couch, a lopsided grin on their face. They still lay on the turquoise material, sitting upside down with their feet in the air, book in hand and the red couch cushion resting on their stomach, watching as Mako turned on the stove with a click of propane and a bit of fire bending. 

It wasn't long before the apartment was full of the comforting smell of Mako's cooking, and soon (Y/n) found it impossible to focus on the page before them. They opted to right themself instead and watch Mako as he finished up, adding the finishing touches to the meal before splitting what lay in the pan into two different bowls. 

He handed a bowl to (Y/n) as he settled onto the couch, both of them moving to sit cross-legged, their knees touching. (Y/n) savored the flavor of Mako's signature dish, and he gestured to the book beside them. 

"How're you liking it so far?"

"The book? It's great. Perfectly paced, in my opinion, although I wouldn't mind for a little bit more world-building. The time period is so interesting and they could lean into it a little more."

Mako nodded, satisfied with the smile on their face and the eagerness in their tone. "I figured you'd like it. There's a lot happening, but the characters are good enough to carry the story."

"That's a raving review, coming from you." (Y/n) laughed, the sound falling from their lips effortlessly. "And I can see why it's your favorite. You like a good redemption arc, don't you?"

"It's an interesting enough idea."

"A rather sweet one, too. Are you sure you're not a romantic at heart?"

Mako scoffed in response, but even so, he could feel his cheeks burning up, the nagging voice in his head (the one that told him to just confess already, or do something equally as rash) getting louder from conviction. "I think that's you."

"Oh definitely, but there's always room for one more," (Y/n) mumbled through a mouth full of noodles. "And judging by your taste in books, I'd say you already are."

"There's not even a romantic subplot!"

"The main character literally took lightning to the face for his best friend, and then proceeded to say that he’d do it all again, if it meant they could stay together. Are you telling me there isn't something there?"

“You said yourself that they’re friends!”

“C’mon, Mako,” (Y/n) deadpanned, setting aside their dinner so that they could use their hands to punctuate their speech. There was a fire in their eyes, and something restless in the way they moved - like there was something important they were trying to say. “Friendship is clearly just an excuse for them.”

“An excuse?” Mako felt his throat dry. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of their proximity, and the little space that still existed between them - like they were almost touching, and yet oceans apart. 

(Y/n)’s hands fidgeted in their lap. “Yeah, like… An easy out when you’re too afraid to go for it...or when you think you’re not enough.” Part of Mako wanted to look away, but (Y/n)’s eyes had caught his gaze too fully and the other part of him battled to stay. For the longest moment, he couldn’t move. “But they love each other - you can see it.”

There was a battle waging war inside Mako; each side fighting the other for dominance, and only one coming out on top. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost like a deep sigh. “Yeah, they love each other.”

(Y/n) smiled, their mouth moving with just the slightest tremble, and part of Mako wondered what had disrupted the ease with which they did everything, but another part of him already knew. Mako reached out and cupped their cheek, the feeling of their skin against his flooding him with courage he didn’t know he had.

“And I love you, (Y/n).” 

“About time you confessed to me.” (Y/n)’s eyes sparkled in jest before they surged forward, kissing Mako and igniting the fire in his chest. All he could think about was them and the way they blissfully invaded all of his senses, how soft their lips were, and how strong their hands were, as they wrapped around him, pulling him nearer. When they broke apart, (Y/n) rested their forehead on his. 

Then they said it, their voice a whisper that sent him tumbling over the edge, their breath fanning against his cheek.

“I love you, too.”

Mako kissed them again, craving the feeling of their lips against his, chasing after the way they made him feel - like every moment had led to this, like every battle had been worth the struggle. Time seemed to stop, and for a moment, it was as though there was no gravity, and the only thing anchoring Mako to this world was (Y/n), and their touch.

“Like I said,” (Y/n) was smiling when he pulled away, and their gaze made it easy to come back down to earth. “You’re a romantic at heart.”

Mako chuckled and (Y/n) laughed with him, the sound filling the tiny apartment with something undefined but utterly perfect. 

“Alright, so maybe I am.” Mako relented, tipping his head back. “But an epic romance doesn’t happen within that book, if that’s what you're after.”

“Well, maybe we’ll have to write a sequel of our own."

-- taglist: message me if you want to be added to a taglist!

[captain-ozone]

Fic Writer Review

Thank you for the tag, @flutteringdreams-matw​!! I loved reading your review, and I’m stoked to have the opportunity to fill this out myself, too!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?  46. And not all of them have been transferred over from FFN. There’s at least another dozen between multiple fandoms over there, lol. 

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 656,571. My word. 

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?  When one of your fandoms is DC Comics...Does that count as one or several? LOL. xD

There’s been Merlin, Danny Phantom, Batman (Comics), Young Justice (cartoon), Teen Titans (cartoon), Titans (TV Show), Smallville (TV show), The Justice League (movie), The Flash (Arrowverse TV Show), Miraculous Ladybug, Harry Potter, Rise of the Guardians, How to Train Your Dragon, Sword Art Online (anime), Blue Exorcist (anime), The Bright Sessions (podcast). Might be missing some.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. Come Alive (Young Justice) 2. life, if well lived (Batman) 3. On Three (Miraculous Ladybug) 4. a million dreams (Batman) 5. Genesis (Danny Phantom)

@redriotted​ should be informed that my top two are fics she requested from me via prompts I’m sure neither of us expected I would ever fill. Love you, dear! I credit you for these fics!

5. Which of your fic do you want more attention for?  Difficult question for me to answer. I’ve been gifted with lovely feedback on most of my work. I guess if I were to choose one it would be Locking Up the Sun (Batman)? It’s a Fantasy AU. A fantastic exercise in world-building. I had so much fun with it that I’ve been playing with the idea of spinning bits of it into an original work.

6. Do you respond to comments, why or why not? YES. I try to respond to every review and comment I receive. I understand it takes a lot of time and energy for some people, but from the moment I posted my first Merlin fic in 2011, I needed to respond, even if with nothing more than a little thank you. And I’m not about to stop the habit. I met some of my dearest friends responding to reviews. I still meet wonderful people doing so. :) 7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?  Uhhhh, I’m not sure? I guess it depends on perspective. Most of my fics end happily, or rather, I am quite heavy-handed on the comfort part of the Hurt/Comfort trope. I do bittersweet more often than I do angst. I wrote a Merlin AU inspired by The Picture of Dorian Gray about Uther Pendragon that was pretty angsty? Grief was another one, also in the Merlin fandom. I’m sure there were some in my FFN Merlin oneshot collection Rabbits and Bathroom Breaks that apply, but lord knows I hardly remember half of what I’ve posted in that monster. 

8. Do you write crossovers? Once. I wrote a Rise of the Guardians/Frozen crossover with an Elsa/Jack Frost pairing as a gift for a friend.  9. Have you ever received hate on a fic? Oh, of course. Who hasn’t? I’ve been cursed out more than once, too. It always stings, but it’s a matter of stepping back and asking myself: is this constructive? will this make me a better writer? Once you frame the comment/review that way, it’s a bit easier to see that it’s unproductive to linger on it for long. It’s someone’s personal preferences and/or beliefs not aligning with your own. Or someone who can’t quite distance themselves from fiction enough to realize you are not always what you write, nor are you a reflection of the characters/plot you’re writing about.

10. Do you write smut? if so what kind? Rarely, and only as crack or as a joke. Nothing I would ever share in public. RIP Uther Pendragon/Troll fic of circa 2013-2014. I do so wish I’d saved you somewhere safe. 11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, but I have no idea where they are posted or in what language. Most of the requests came over FFN, so I’m sure they’re available somewhere. In some capacity. 

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not quite. My friend and I wrote every other line of the aforementioned Uther/Troll fic in a chatroom, if that counts. 13. What’s your all time favorite ship? I’m far more interested in platonic/family relationships in pretty much every fandom I’m in. If I were to choose one? Adam Hayes/Caleb Michaels from The Bright Sessions. Or Barry Allen/Iris West in The Flash.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?  *eyes Shift warily*

I KID. I made a promise over half a decade ago, and I intend on keeping it.  In all seriousness: A Merlin time-travel fic I started ages upon ages ago. I hardly remember what the point of it was. There is a fun scene I’ve considered posting as a oneshot more than once over the years, though, just because it makes me laugh.

15. What are your writing strengths?  Dialogue, I think? I love it. 

16. What are your writing weaknesses? Imagery/action. Give me a single scene focused on a conversation between two hopeless individuals that need some TLC and let me forget about where they are sitting or if they are sitting at all or if there are things that need describing around them, please and thank you.  17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?  I’ve done it, in some capacity. I used my knowledge of Latin grammar from old high school classes to try to write spells for Merlin fics. I probably butchered quite a few, lol. I think it’s important to use language as accurately as possible, though, if it were to be used at all. Most of the time I take the lazy man’s route and use dialogue tags and italics, just so I can avoid making ignorant mistakes. As a reader, as long as I have translations in front of me, I’m golden.  18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? Merlin. I owe that fandom everything. 19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? Come Alive. I don’t know that I have ever had so much fun writing anything in my life. a million dreams (my Flying Grayson time travel tear-jerker) and Not a Bit (my MLB Brothers AU, inspired by the original PV) come in close second. I dig my family feels, obviously. 20. What fic are you most proud of?  Shift, my Danny Phantom AU, if only because it’s been seven years since I posted its first chapter. Writing it has felt like pulling teeth at certain points, but it has been with me for a long, long time. Rereading it is like looking at a time lapse of how I’ve developed as a writer, lol.  Heart of Gold (Merlin) is another. Before Shift, it was the longest fic I’d ever written, one, and it was my first time really developing an OC/attempting a redemption arc as well. It was far from a perfect fic, but boy did I feel like a queen when I finished it. I’m sure you might’ve done something like this at some point, @cdelphiki, but here you go! @breynekai-tfc, too! And anyone else who sees and wants to share, please do so! 

[fanfoolishness]

The Invitation (The Mandalorian)

Spoilers for the entirety of The Mandalorian S1 and S2.  Din Djarin finds himself in dreams that seem realer than real, reminding him of his loss, but he begins to find a sense of hope again.  A promise is kept.  Bittersweet but hopeful, 2600 words. ***

He did not remember when he stopped dreaming of life before his armor.  He was still so young when his dreams first began to show themselves through the filter of a beskar helmet, when he grew used to the sound of his voice slightly muffled and mechanized.  

This dream seemed no different than his usual, at least at first.  Sometimes they were soaring, vivid things; his parents’ faces that final day, memories of battles etched into his body and bones, lessons in his youth with the Covert.  Other times they were merely soft, confused impressions he barely remembered upon waking.  But always there was the familiar sense and weight of beskar.

Din sat now in the Razor Crest, hands resting on the controls.  Something tickled at the back of his mind, a sense that this wasn’t right, but he ignored it.  He checked the navicomputer, setting a course to a planet he didn’t know in a language he couldn’t read, and the starfield stretched before him.

A small noise beside him caught his attention.  He turned to see Grogu there, poking flashing buttons, a mischievous look on his face.  

“Hey now,” he said, with a sternness he didn’t really feel.  “You know better.”  It’s so good to see you, buddy.  He smiled beneath the helmet.

The child’s ears lowered, the tips brushing his sturdy robes.  He slowly raised his eyes to Din, and something about the way they gleamed, so bright, so present, cut Din to the core.  For a moment, he wondered --

The dream shifted, beginning to buckle under the weight of the knowledge that he was dreaming.  The Crest darkened and drifted around them, and he began to forget, began to lose himself.  No!  I want to stay with him -- please --

He reached out a hand, blurry in the faltering dream, to try and touch the child’s face one more time --

He awoke with a start, breathing hard, tears on his cheeks.  He sat bolt upright in his narrow bunk, trying to remember just one more glimpse of the child.  He closed his eyes, fixing the memory as closely as he could.  There were not enough of them.  There would never be enough.

He bowed his head.  He’s safe.  You did the right thing.  The Jedi will protect him.

But the words felt just as hollow now as they did yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.  The wound was still so fresh; it had only been a few short weeks since the rescue.  He lay awake long into the night, the tears drying on his naked face.

***

Life continued as ever it did. He’d seen it many times before.  One day your world shattered, the next, you kept going anyway.  He told himself he’d do it again, and again, because what else was there to do but fight forward?  

He knew what he had done on the bridge for the Child.  Knew what the Armorer would declare, knew that the Children of the Watch would have rejected him utterly.  Clan Mudhorn would be stricken from the records, the title Mandalorian stripped from his soul.

But he traveled not with the Children of the Watch now.  He traveled with an heir to the Mandalorian throne, who wore her bare face as proudly as her armor, and when he slowly, cautiously, placed his helmet on once more, beskar still felt like home.  

Each morning he tended to his armor: cleaned and polished the beskar with reverence, checked the clothing and leathers for tears, made repairs as needed with a miniature arc torch, with needle and thread.  

Each morning he tended to his weapons: performed maintenance on his blaster, topped off fuel levels for the Dragon Flame, carefully adjusted the Whistling Birds, calibrated the Rising Phoenix, gingerly examined the unwanted Darksaber.  

Each morning he held a little silver ball, brushing his thumb over its smooth surface, praying his promise had not been a lie.

He kept going.

This was the Way.

***

The sands of Tatooine.  A faint desert smell even through his helmet’s filter, boots sinking into the dunes, Peli Motto’s droids chittering away to themselves.  Din and Grogu sat against the landing gear of the Crest, Grogu leaning against Din’s hip.

“Hey there, kid,” Din said softly.  He reached down and stroked the tip of one of Grogu’s long ears.  “You having a good time?”

Grogu turned his head and looked steadily at him, face and ears spreading into a small smile. 

Din reached into his bag, pulling out cookies for the child.  Perhaps they weren’t the most nutritious food, but Grogu ate plenty of protein, and Din had the extra coin for a treat today.  He handed a cookie to Grogu, a little blue stack of sugar, and the child bit into it, watching him expectedly.

“Oh, you want --”  Din looked around, searching for shadows, figures.  The droids and the mechanics had melted away.  “You want me to try one?”

Grogu’s shoulders jumped up in excitement as he finished his cookie.  Din handed him another, then held one between his gloved fingers, considering.

He lifted his helmet slightly, just enough to expose his mouth, and took a bite.  Grogu let out a sweet little sound, almost like a giggle.

Happy, Din thought.  Or felt.  He wasn’t certain how he knew it, but he did.  Was he happy?  Was Grogu?  It was difficult to tell where he ended, where the child began, here in the gritty sand beneath the cloudless skies, here in the dream --  

He woke up reaching for the little silver ball, and clasped it to his chest, remembering.

***

The dreams, though rare, stayed with him: a humming presence in the back of his mind even as he traveled between far-flung stars, speaking words of war and battle with the other Mandalorians, fighting for a forgotten world.  Things were in motion now that he had never meant, had never dreamed when he was a foundling boy first given his helmet. The Darksaber hung heavy at his hip, a reluctant weight.  

He trained with the others in the ways of the Rising Phoenix, in the wielding of the Darksaber, in the history of Mandalore.  It was difficult, sometimes, being around so many after long years spent mostly alone.  But in quiet times, the empty spaces of new journeys, Din studied.  Ways of ancient Mandalore, Ways of different clans whose names he had never heard spoken, new understandings of what the Creed meant.  

He found a comfort there: he found a path his own. 

He stood on the soil of a dozen different moons and planets.  The mossy loam of Endor, springy beneath each footstep.  The white salt fields of Crait, red sand clinging to his boots.  The rain-worn rocks of Eadu.  The desert sands of Savareen, caressed by ocean waves. 

He stood beneath a dozen suns and moons, his helmet cradled beneath his arm.  The wind tossed his hair; the rain lashed his face; the sunlight warmed his cheeks.  He breathed deep of each world, of the scents of fern and tree, wind and water, and he was not ashamed.

He was a Mandalorian.

***

Din looked around.  The Razor Crest again, each inch of it his well-remembered home.  But his view was not quite the same as he best recalled it.  He reached up.  He felt skin beneath his gloved fingertips, not beskar.

Grogu burbled on his lap, little green hands resting on the instrument bank.  Din bowed over him, his face working into a smile.  He was still learning the different ways his expressions could be used, a skill he had never learned as an adult.  The smile felt clumsy, but Grogu’s delighted coo let him know he had gotten it right.

“Grogu,” he said, and the little one leaned against him, safe in his arms.

“You like it here, huh?” Din asked quietly.  Memory flickered, filtering in through the comforting warmth of -- was this a dream again?  He faltered.  “I’m afraid I don’t have the Crest anymore.”

Grogu gazed up at him, clearly puzzled.  Din closed his eyes.  “They destroyed it.  When they took you away.”  His throat burned, eyes stinging.  How did this feel so real?  So clear?

Grogu’s ears dropped, his little face falling.  Din took both of the child’s small hands in his, holding them gently.

“I’m sorry, Grogu,” he murmured.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them from taking you.”

Little hands gripped his own.  A thought, a feeling, a knowing.  

I...  did everything I could.  He understands.

He held his child until the dream dissolved, and he woke up in the dark, his face damp again.

***

Weeks drifted into months.  Months threatened years.  He earned new scars, new weapons, a new ship.  The Darksaber still felt foreign, but it was a weight that he could bear, at least for a little while.

The dreams continued, always sporadic, but growing a little clearer, a little longer every time. Sometimes they were on Sorgan, sometimes Nevarro.  More recently, they were starting to be places Din had traveled but Grogu had never seen; and he had not dreamed of the Razor Crest since he’d admitted to Grogu that it was gone.

He wasn’t sure what meaning to ascribe to this.  They were merely dreams, after all, visions crafted by heart and mind and memory. The only strange thing about them was that feeling, that sense of realer than real that left him grieving and grateful both every time he awoke.

No matter.  He only knew that the dreams comforted him, reminded him of what he still fought for every day. That was enough, wasn’t it?

***

He stood on Mandalor, the ruined skies above him, the blasted earth at his feet.  It tore at him.  Bones of the mythosaur had been ground into the dust long ago, and his people’s sorrow was heavy all around him.  He had never been here before.  Had he?

He turned to Grogu, clinging to his shin, and picked the child up.  In his other arm he held his helmet.  “We don’t fly the Crest anymore, when I meet you here,” he said suddenly.  It hung between them, a query, an accusation.

Grogu gazed at him, Mandalor’s sun glimmering in his eyes.  

“... ever since I told you the Crest was gone,” he murmured.

Realization.  Understanding.  He knew what I said.  And the dreams changed.  Din froze, his heart pounding.  Could it --

“Grogu,” he said carefully.  “Are… are you here?”

Grogu clapped his hands together in delight, then reached up, his fingertips brushing against Din’s cheek.  He cooed with contentment.

“How?” Din whispered.

Flashes, fierce and vivid.  Tython.  The seeing stone.  Grogu seeking, seeking --

“I’m not a Jedi,” Din said mulishly.  “How could you --”

Grogu leaned against him, tucking his head under Din’s chin.

Grogu meditating, face calm and concentrating, the Jedi seated beside him --

A heavy stillness in the air, the indefinable sense of something greater; visions of certain places where power flourished, places where the child could reach beyond --

The bond between them, a force its own -- his own face shining in the child’s eyes --

“I don’t understand, kid,” said Din desperately, fighting a rising sense of hope, confusion, wonder.  Sunlight slanted through the skies above them, banishing the ruined clouds.  Grogu was content in his arms, curled up, fighting sleep --

And Mandalor shimmered around them, whole and beautiful once more, falling away into the stars.

***

Din jerked awake, breathing hard.  He fumbled for the little silver ball, holding it so tightly his fingers throbbed with the beat of his heart.  

“It’s him,” he whispered, his voice a faint, shocked murmur sinking into the ship’s stillness.  “Dank farrik, kid!”  

He laughed so hard he nearly choked, tears streaming down his face.

***

The days arced away, seasons changing between the stars, and he pressed onward.  Beskar was home, foundation, protector, salvation.  He carried it into the greater galaxy with honor.  It gleamed to all, a symbol of Mandalore and the Way.

But he wore new armor beneath his beskar, secret, sustaining, a burning hope.  Strange he had once forgotten how it felt.  He carried with him a certain knowledge, a joy that bettered the long days beyond measure.  

He knew the dreams were real.

He knew, truly, that Grogu had not forgotten him.

***

There was a final dream.

Din sat in the grass, gray-streaked hair lifted by the soft breeze beneath a yellow sun.  Birdsong chimed in trees tall and elegant and beautiful.  He scented rich flowers on the air.  In the distance, a temple rose from beyond the trees, its form as natural to the landscape as the hills themselves.

Grogu sat beside him, only a little bigger than Din remembered.  He looked peaceful, calm, assured.  He smiled, ears tipping upward.

“I miss you, kid,” said Din simply.

Grogu dipped his head in something like a nod, then leaned against him, sighing.  Din rested his hand on the child’s shoulder, where it belonged.

A sudden sensation at his side.  Din reached for the silver ball, but it wasn’t there.

It hung before them, gleaming, rotating in the bright sunlight.  It looked just as it did in the waking world, with one side worn smooth and dull from long handling.

Grogu gazed up at him.  The ball spun.

“Go on, take it,” said Din.  

The ball sank into Grogu’s outstretched hand.  His small face creased into a silent laugh, and he rested his other hand on Din’s leg, a look of focus settling into his expression.

Din closed his eyes.  And he saw --

He saw a name, clear as day, Aurebesh letters searing into his mind’s eye.

Saw coordinates, precisely laid out, leading to a system, a planet, a temple.

He saw an invitation.

“I’ll be there,” breathed Din. He gathered Grogu into his arms.  “As soon as I can.”  They held each other as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, as he slipped back into waking once again.

***

The ship soared through the air, seeking a point of touchdown.  Din checked the coordinates again, his heart racing.  What if he’d been wrong?  What if all of this was some kind of madness, some trick of the imagination?  

The temple crested the horizon, ringed with those tall, beautiful trees, rising against the sun-soaked hills.  He let out a shaky breath.

He landed near the temple in a flat clearing.  He checked his belt, touched the silver ball once more, and made his way out onto the grass.

Motes danced on the air in the golden sunlight streaming through the trees.  The evening light was warm on his beskar.  Birds in the canopy sang with familiar voices, calling him onward, and he held no weapon in his hands.

There was a small sound, the tiniest sensation at his hip.  He brushed his hand against his belt.  Where did it --

The silver ball hung in the air before him, gleaming in the golden light.

Din stared at it.  His chest rose, then fell, his shoulders heaving.  His vision blurred as he reached for his helmet, as he wiped at his eyes with an unsteady hand.

The ball drifted forward, spinning a perfect orbit along a controlled and steady path.  Din Djarin followed. 

He knew his child waited.

***

The Jedi stood peacefully near the seeing stones, his faithful droid beside him. Far beyond him, two figures approached each other, one small and clad in simple brown, the other tall in shining silver.  For a moment they stopped, frozen, the distance between them miniscule and yet immense. 

The Mandalorian sank to his knees, helmet forgotten beside him, arms opened.  The Child stepped forward into the waiting embrace, something silver flashing in his small hand.  And on the gentle breeze, the Jedi heard the sounds of laughter.

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

(Author’s note: We know that canonically, seeing stones or other places of great Force power can magnify a Force user’s powers, including telepathy.  Din is not Force-sensitive, but Force users with powerful bonds can reach those people more easily.  I like to think that Grogu kept sneaking out of the temple to go sit on those damn things and call on Din when he could reach his mind in sleep.  I also like to think Luke let him.)

[teknicianwrites]

Welcome to DADWC! How about "I’m tired…I’ll nap. Destroy the universe later" for Sera and Inky?

Thanks for the prompt! Here is some Sera/Adaar, with a small side of Adoribull. Had a lot of fun writing team Chaotic Gay. A little fluff, a little h/c.

@dadrunkwriting

Akeelah rolled out from beneath the falling dragon, the leather of her coat nearly catching in the monster's claws as it crashed into the ground. Hot blood sprayed across her vitaar as she let out a wild cry of triumph.

"That's what I'm fucking talking about!" Bull crowed, whooping out a deep laugh that Akeelah joined with a victorious shout to the sky. Bull bounded to her side and grabbed her shoulder. "Boss. Boss. That was incredible. Tell me we're going to do it again. You feel it too, right? It was amazing."

"That was- it- that-" she tried, utterly incapable of finding words in Common or Qunlat to express the absolute feral joy pumping through her veins.

"That was the hottest friggin' thing I've ever seen!" Sera leapt on her back, nearly making Akeelah overbalance as legs wrapped around her waist and hands gripped her shoulders. Bull steadied her with a knowing grin before stepping back to give them space. Sera gave a light tug at her horns, and Akeelah ignored the pulse of pain from the bruises she'd earned when she'd been too slow with a fade step. "Get that shit off your face so I can kiss you," Sera murmured in her ear.

"Yes, ma'am." Akeelah let Sera pull her head back, shivering at the command and the hungry look in Sera's eyes. She righted herself to search through the pack at her hip and pulled out a clean rag she soaked from her canteen.

Cleaning the poison from her face took an eternity as Sera whispered suggestions of all the things she wanted to do once they were alone at camp. Akeelah whined when Sera proposed sending the others back ahead of them and not waiting for a tent, and firmly reminded herself that Sera would not appreciate surprise hallucinations if she wasn't thorough and kissed her with deathroot on her lips.

"Savages, the lot of you," Dorian called as he picked his way carefully out of the treeline, regarding their display with amusement. Sera broke her litany of lurid fantasies to stick her tongue out at him, and Akeelah used the reprieve to dry her face with a clean cloth, satisfied when it came away with no lingering traces of vitaar.

Bull grinned and strode to Dorian, tugging him by the belt and resting a hand on his ass. "You love it."

"Hm, hardly," Dorian sniffed. Akeelah smiled when he rolled his eyes fondly as Bull pulled him closer. "Ah, no, Sera is quite right. Paint comes off before you get your mouth near me," he tutted, a firm hand to Bull's pauldron. Bull moved in a playful threat like he might try anyway, and chuckled as Dorian slipped free from his grasp.

It made Akeelah feel warm, watching them. She still wanted to beat Halward's face in for the shame he'd instilled in his son. It had taken long months before Dorian had stopped tensing anytime Bull expressed his affection publicly, and though Dorian was still cautious in unfamiliar company, it was gratifying that he felt comfortable around her.

Sera broke her train of thought when she swung around to Akeelah's front and pulled her in for a desperate kiss. Akeelah moaned into her mouth, tasting the bittersweet hint of elfroot that lingered on her lips. Sera gripped her horns for purchase and Akeelah winced.

She broke from the kiss, giving Sera a reassuring smile at her confusion. Normally Akeelah enjoyed Sera's fascination with her horns, which Sera had quickly learned to take advantage of. She tilted her head to the side so Sera could see the bruising above her ear and gently repositioned Sera's hands to her neck.

"You're getting quite skilled with that sword, dear Herald," Dorian said conversationally. Sera made a grumpy sound against her jaw when she turned to him to grimace at the title. He smiled winningly at the reaction to his teasing. Any other man might have looked awkward, standing in a clearing watching two women tangle together shamelessly while waiting for his own lover to finish washing up, but Dorian stood regal as ever. "Soon you'll be giving our Madame de Fer a run for her money."

Sera looked up from where she'd moved to Akeelah's throat. "Oh, piss on Vivvy," she sneered. "Coryphenus better be shaking in his knickers, Buckles can take the whole friggin' world."

Akeelah's vision swam as Sera's animated gestures moved too fast for her eyes to follow. She blinked, trying to focus, and gripped Sera tighter to keep her from falling as she completely let go of her neck to make rude gestures at an imaginary Vivienne.

"Aiming too low there, Sera," a deep voice said from behind her. Akeelah jumped, heart racing at finding a Qunari at her side… but it was Bull. Of course it was Bull. She knew Bull. Bull was her friend. Bull was safe. "With us at her side, I think she can take the universe."

"And destroy it as she does so, with you two at her back," Dorian quipped, twirling his staff lazily. It made Akeelah's stomach turn as it spun, sparking with idle lightning.

Akeelah didn't understand whatever Sera said back. It was too loud, right in her ear. She tried to step back, but Sera came with her. That's right. Sera was wrapped around her. Can't step away. Gotta put her down.

She glanced around for a spot free of dragon blood, and the sunlight glinting off the creature's scales hit her like daggers through her eyes. She snapped them shut and tried to breathe.

Everything was so bright. Everything was so loud. Everything was too much. It all made her dizzy. It was exhausting. She was exhausted.

"I’m tired," she whispered, trying to remember what they were talking about. "I'll nap. Destroy the universe later."

Hands suddenly gripped her coat tight. "Buckles? Hey, woah, Buckles!"

She whined at the voice and opened her eyes. Things looked different. Sera was taller than her. How had that happened?

Oh. Because she was kneeling. She remembered wanting to sit down. She wondered if she'd done it on purpose.

"Boss, you ok?" Bull crouched next to Sera in front of her, his good eye looking at her in concern.

Akeelah tensed at the Ben Hassrath being so close. She felt behind for her staff, panic mounting when she couldn't find it. How did she end up unarmed this close to him?

"M'fine," she lied, fighting back dizziness, unwilling to show weakness to a Qunari.

No. Not Qunari. Not Ben Hassrath. Tal Vashoth. Bull was Tal Vashoth. Why did she keep forgetting? She was fine. She was safe. "Sleepy," she slurred, lowering herself gracelessly into the grass.

"No, no, no, none of that." Warm hands were on her face and she whined when fingertips pulled her eyelids open. Dorian gazed intently into her eyes. "Well, hopefully the universe doesn't hit as hard as a dragon's tail. I do believe our Inquisitor has a concussion."

"Well, fix it!" Sera shouted. Why was she shouting? Shouting made her stomach turn. Akeelah tried to shush her and was ignored. "Wave your magic fingers or whatever and get rid of the concoction!"

Dorian snorted and cupped her cheeks. Warm hands got warmer, and she sighed contentedly at the feeling of his magic against her scalp.

Sera dropped to her knees and stared intently at Akeelah's face, ears twitching as Dorian's fingers prodded gently along her skull. She looked scared. Akeelah didn't want her to be scared.

"You make the best concoctions," Akeelah told her, brushing uneven golden hair from her eyes. "I like it when you throw bees."

Sera's face softened and she caught Akeelah's hand to press a kiss into her palm. "Hey, you're cute like this and all, but you're freaking me out," she said into her skin. "Come on, Dorian, do something!"

"Sera, this thing I'm doing right now?" he asked through gritted teeth. "This is me doing something. I am 'waving my magic fingers' as we speak. Head trauma is not my specialty."

Sera looked ready to yell at him. Akeelah pressed her hand more firmly on Sera's mouth to stop her. "Shhh. Head hurts. Quiet is nice."

Sera bit her lip and resumed her silent vigil, gripping her hand tight. Bull squeezed her shoulder. "It's ok, Sera. Concussions aren't that bad. I've had dozens."

"That explains so much about you," Dorian muttered as his fingers prodded near her left horn. Akeelah winced and he focused his magic there.

Something eased in her head, relieving a pounding tightness she hadn't fully processed until it was eased back. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

Gradually the pain faded to slight pressure. Nausea and dizziness receded, and when she opened her eyes the light no longer felt like an enemy combatant. She let out a breath of relief.

"Ok, I've done what I can," Dorian announced after a last sweep around her head. He stood, brushing leaves and dirt from his knees. "Varric's friend should still be at Skyhold, yes? We'll have him take a look at her when we get back, but I think she'll be fine."

"What do you mean, you think?" Sera demanded as Bull helped Akeelah to her feet.

"I'm a necromancer, not a spirit healer," Dorian explained impatiently. "I'll be of more use after she's dead."

Sera whirled on him, murder in her eyes, and Bull stepped between them.

"She's not going to die, Sera," he placated. "He's being facetious."

Sera halted her advance as her face scrunched in confusion. "There's fish?"

Bull chuckled, and Akeelah was gratified the deep rumble didn't set her ears ringing. "He thinks he's cute."

"Well, it's not! Her maybe dying isn't friggin' cute!" Sera glared at Dorian, who raised his arms in apology or surrender. Akeelah gently pulled her back against her chest.

"You're cute," she told her, kissing her hair. "The cutest. Prettiest woman I know."

Tension melted out of Sera as she leaned into her. "... you're not too bad yourself," she said, turning to wrap Akeelah's waist in a fierce hug. "Don't you die on me, yeah? I'll be real mad if you die on me," she mumbled into her shirt.

Akeelah smiled and bent to give her a proper kiss. "Ok. I won't. I promise. Still got the universe to fight, remember?"

Sera giggled and pulled back, quickly wiping at her eyes. "I'll hold you to that."

"I would advise not holding her horns until Hawke looks at her," Dorian called over. "She still has a head wound. Don't undo all my hard work in a fit of passion."

Akeelah grinned when color rose to Dorian's cheeks as Bull whispered something in his ear. She would put all her money on it being filthy and related to his own affinity for horns, judging by the flustered way Dorian smoothed out his tunic.

She smiled down at Sera and was surprised to see she looked stricken. "What's wrong?"

"I made you worse," Sera told the ground. "You were fine and then I just started grabbing your horns after you got hit in the head and then you fell-"

"Hey, no." Akeelah tilted her chin up and Sera met her gaze reluctantly. "I thought I was fine too. Now we know. No horns after a dragon to the face."

Sera huffed, the corner of her mouth quirking. Akeelah kissed her twitching lips until they stopped fighting to frown. She caressed her cheeks, and Sera grabbed her coat, and Dorian cleared his throat.

"I do hate to interrupt a good time, but I'm not comfortable leaving you behind until you've seen a proper healer, so unless you have a thing for exhibitionism…"

"Spoilsport," Bull laughed. "I wanted to see how long it took them to remember we're here."

Sera made a face. "Pfft, fine. Let's head back to camp," she said grumpily. Akeelah took her hand and Sera squeezed it as they started walking.

Bull put an arm over Dorian's shoulders and pulled him in; Dorian sighed and allowed it. "Come on, the sooner we get back, the sooner we can celebrate. And we've all got a lot of celebrating to do."

[littlemulattokitten]

Tagged by the forever lovely @senlinyu! Thank you, hun <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

16

What’s your total AO3 word count?

410,375 words.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Currently Published: 3 (on AO3) — Harry Potter, Lucifer (Netflix), and Beauty and the Beast. (Hunger Games too on FFN)

Taken down/Unpublished categories I used to write for/am working on: Twilight (I doubt I'll ever revisit most of those fics) and Avatar the Last Airbender (Zutaraaaa)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Diary (Tomione)

Uxor Lucifera (Poly/Reverse Harem - Tom/Hermione/Draco/Harry)

Fortune In Spades (Tomione)

His Little Star (Lucifer/Chloe)

Obsidian and Dragon's Blood (Sevmione)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sometimes! I started writing fic on FFN in middle school (All those fics were taken down, don't bother looking for them), I didn't have that option since FFN is...problematic. So when I moved to AO3 and had the ability to reply and moderate comments, it was kind of heaven? I often forget that AO3 commenting culture is way different than FFN, so it feels like padding out my comments stats when I reply a bunch, but it's nice being able to answer questions if readers have them. Even if I know they just forgot a passage or skimmed it, having the ability to create that point-to-point contact lets me feel more connected to my readers. And with my experience commenting on other stories, the feeling as a reader is the same. If I say "Sorry I've been away, life got weird, but I missed you guys!" and people comment welcoming me back (Looking at you Uxor fans <3), that feels good for everybody.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

This is tricky for two reasons. If you've read my fics you know I'm fond of the angst, but I have a rule about happy endings (bittersweet at worst). And...most of my fics are WIPs lmao.

I think it's a 3-way tie between I. The Marked, Obnoxious, and Boats Against the Current.

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not anymore, but I wrote a Twilight/HP cross-over in middle school that was p r e t t y d a m n s t u p i d and had enough similarities to the play that I like to forget it existed.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

-snort- Oh yeah.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yeah but it's a newer development.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oof that's hard because I rarely have solitary favorites of anything.

Tomione, Dramione, Harmony, Zutara, and Carlisle/Bella (very specific circumstances).

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The Fourth Blood Princess. It's one of those fics that essentially spans the entire series and has such a niche plot and almost no audience. The Diary is also a large-scale story, and I know I can't do both. But demand is far, far higher for Diary.

What are your writing strengths?

My OCD. Planning and cohesion I guess? I hate plotholes and I'm good at organizing the data I need to write a story correctly. If you've seen all the reference materials for The Diary, you know what I'm on about.

But if that's not the type of strengths this question is talking about then I have no idea.

What are your writing weaknesses?

My OCD. I cannot just free write and edit later. I have to edit as I go and also edit later. But if I misspell something and those little red squiggly lines appear? Train of thought derailed. Fix the spelling. There is no preventing a flow from being interrupted by such things. I've just learned to sometimes switch tracks without the undiagnosed ADHD making me forget what was going on immediately.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I only do it if I'm incorporating it in a way that my reader doesn't have to leave my story to go use google translate. If it's breaking the suspension of disbelief or taking the reader of out the story, it needs to be used better. Same with pronouncing it. Readers are going to skim over words they can't mentally or verbally pronounce.

I did this in Diary actually, and made the characters acknowledge how ridiculous the Irish/Irish Gaelic lines of a ritual were, but taught the reader how to say it as Hermione learned how to say it. (It took me and young tom 40 minutes to figure out how to say the spell.)

But fics where like...entire conversations are had as just a block of another language with no indicators to the audience on what is being said? Those aren't fun to read for anybody.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Twilight.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

The Fourth Blood Princess and a Carlisle/Bella fic that really makes more sense as an original fiction project than a fanfic.

Tagging: @im-a-monster-fucking-princess, @katsitting, @petralynnluna, @wild0kitsune, @serpentinred, @littleredsiren3101

[the-clari-net]

Princess in a Castle (Tie Me Down So You Can Wear Your Crown)

Also on AO3

Princess Dorathea doesn’t remember much from her time alive. She knows some things. She knows that she and her brother were inseparable growing up. She knows that she used to spend a lot of time alone reading while alive as the princess. She knows that because she was the youngest her mother favored her less than her brother (no matter how discrete she tried to be).

She knew that no matter what her family thought of her, she was tasked with holding and keeping part of her family’s legacy alive. To protect one half of their family heirloom with her life if necessary.

Dorathea was told that she was not allowed to take off her amulet, not even to bathe. She remembers finding it odd that the chain never rusted, especially since the chain itself was incredibly light and didn’t weigh much, unlike gold.

The memories and knowledge Princess Dorathea kept from her time spent alive were few. Once she became a ghost, she tried to protect her memories and guard them from ever escaping her mind. She has seen the ghosts who have forgotten and sees the hollowness and desperation in their eyes to find a Purpose, a sense of who they were to understand who they are meant to be.

She swore to do whatever it took to protect herself from becoming “single-minded” as she liked to phrase it. The back of her mind countered her phrasing, hissing a single word that was embedded in her core which she knew was the true title of what she feared to have. An Obsession.

Dorathea has seen this phenomenon spread all across Aragon’s Kingdom. Memories fade, and over time the strongest emotions and core parts of a ghost’s essence take center stage. Sometimes, it depicts something harmless, as it has with her ladies in waiting who shower her with care and affection beyond the grave. While sometimes their caring nature could become overbearing, the princess for the most part enjoyed her time spent with the ladies.

Most of the time the shift in demeanor is not as pleasant. Take her brother Aragon for example. She didn’t see much of her brother by the time the kingdom fell to ruin due to him taking over the throne and being too busy to spend time with his sister. They were distant, but even so, Dorathea knew that there was a familial love and bond between them somewhere. In their final moments, as they both burned and died alongside their people, Dorathea reached for her brother’s hand and he squeezed back so hard that she felt her bones creak while the rest of their bodies were engulfed in flames.

There was a sense of common ground when they both first entered the Ghost Zone. The siblings realized that the amulets that they had been wearing during their final moments brought about an incredible ability in their new afterlife. Aragon was ready to work hard, to be stronger, and to be more powerful so as not to disgrace his people again. He began to spend more time training his ghostly abilities, forcing his dragon form to last for longer periods of time.

At first, Dorathea was proud of her brother’s perceived noble actions at the time. However, things changed once the sky darkened, and a new inescapable Dark Age was born.

Dorathea realized too late the shift in her brother, her mother, and the people in the kingdom. The layer of malice that coated their words and actions, the fading of shared memories of their time before this realm, and finally the loss of their identity. There was no recollection of past bonds, no memory of the land they once knew as home. Not even Dorathea, try as she might, could remember the name of her homeland. The only name she knows is one that has been accepted and recognized by the people, as well as their leader. Aragon’s Kingdom.

To see her people fall victim once again, it reminded the princess of painful memories from her last moments alive. Those memories, so close to her demise, drowned her core in grief and sorrow for being unable to protect and prevent her people from being hurt again. She was helpless to change the outcome, yet she wishes she could do more.

Once the Dark Age had settled in the realm, Dorathea understood how rare it was that she hadn’t succumbed to losing as much of her past as the people around her.

Her mother very early on had become more cruel in her time over this realm. What used to be slight disdain had escalated to controlling, bullying, and finally hatred. The words she would spit at her daughter at first would make Dorathea run to her tower and sob for what felt like days. It wasn’t long before her brother joined in on the cruelty. His words hurt her more than anything. She remembered that as a human Aragon had always been stoic, yet his eyes shone with softness when he saw her. Unfortunately, since Aragon had mastered the power of the amulet, his bright red eyes were frigid and hard. There was a coldness that emanated from her brother that she knows (hopes) it cannot be real.

“That’s not how ghosts change, you know that this realm only enhances attributes, it does not have the ability to create a person anew,” her head whispers. Dorathea had pushed that thought from her mind when she first saw her brother after seeing the malicious glint in his gaze.

However, that was long ago at the beginning of Prince Aragon’s rule of the realm. The princess learned how to act and behave to avoid the majority of her brother and mother’s wrath. The words thrown at her ( useless, pathetic, a waste ) no longer felt like a physical stab wound. The effect her family had on her never fully went away, but it was more of a twitch to her core. After spending what felt like centuries in this realm, the princess understood that whatever bond and love was shared in their human lives has long disintegrated along with their corpses.

She is loyal to her brother, but not out of any real love. Not anymore. The bond that chains her to her brother is the connection that the amulets share.

Those damned amulets.

Dorathea treasures her memories and emotions more than the amulet that has followed her into the afterlife. She wears it out of habit, at least that’s what she says.

To be honest, she doesn’t ever recall having tried taking it off. Something about doing so feels as if she is admitting defeat. It feels wrong. As if she would lose more of herself than she already has.

Perhaps it is because it was the most important task given to her while she was human. When Father passed, he had instructed that Aragon and Dorathea be given the amulets to wear until the next generation of the royal line could take them. Neither of the siblings understood why Father urged that the jewelry be protected at all costs. Even now, Dorathea is not quite sure what Father knew. Any possible secret behind the amulets disappeared along with the King’s final breath.

The point is that Dorathea adapted to her new environment. She learned how to act and behave in the realm, and has survived. But she’s tired. Each new day has her feeling as if a chip of her existence evaporates every time she looks outside and sees the infinitely dark and cloudy sky.  

Dorathea wonders if she will ever feel whole again.

***

Recently there have been whispers from the people in the kingdom.

The border between the Ghost Zone and the human world is thinning.

A portal is forming from the humans’ side. It feels unnatural.

There is tittering from the ladies in waiting, there’s unease, yet also a buzz of energy surrounding the kingdom.

Dorathea feels it too.

It has been a long time since a portal has opened in such close proximity to their realm to be able to feel it this strongly. The last time it had happened, Dorathea created an elaborate scheme that allowed her to escape into the human world, if only for a bit.

She knew the dangers of natural portals. The instability, the real risk of being stuck in the human realm and unable to return for an indefinite amount of time. Yet, she had gone.

Dorathea ended up in the kingdom of Mali, and it was a memory that she looks back on quite fondly. However, due to certain social mishaps, Dorathea learned quickly that the human world had changed quite a lot and it would not help to enter the human realm naive. Since her last adventure, the princess has spent much of her time meeting with the Ghost Writer (she’s unsure how he manages to enter their realm given the “safety” protocols the prince has) and absorbing any information that he is able to bring to her. Most of the time, they’re fictional stories that transport her to new worlds and adventures. They’re bittersweet to read, but the envy fades quickly once a new curious piece of technology or slang appears. When the Ghost Writer comes back to pick up her book, a list of questions spew forth and he gladly answers all her questions.

With the appearance of the new portal, Dorathea is determined to leave again. With the way this human-made portal is operating, it feels to be in one location, and constantly open.

Aragon is in the midst of planning a ball. It’s not so much a ball as it is an excuse for the kingdom’s subjects to bask in Aragon’s power and pretend to enjoy the music that to Dorathea’s ears makes her crave a second death.

The princess knows that the human realm would have a better ball (nowadays called dances, according to Ghost Writer) than anything her brother has hosted. Between the preparation and everyone’s wariness about upsetting Prince Aragon, it was painfully easy for Dorathea to escape towards the portal despite her mother’s words against doing so.

Touching the portal felt nothing like the natural one she had passed through before. This one felt as if her body wanted to simultaneously split and compress. The immense pressure hit her immediately from all different directions, pushing and pulling on different parts of her body. She felt parts of her involuntarily distort. Her legs merged into a tail without her control, an undetectable wind was blowing against her face and hair. There was static in the air that felt like tiny needles poking at her body. The space was screaming into her head.

Wrong, unnatural, LEAVE!

Still, Dorathea pushed on and forced herself to keep moving forward despite the strain it was putting on her body. The only part of her that felt steady was the amulet across her chest. She felt it tugging her towards a direction, which she blindly followed hoping that it would lead her to the other end of the portal. This feels nothing like the last portal I had taken, Dorathea thought to herself.

After what felt like eons, she passed through to the other side.

She collapsed onto the ground, slightly dazed at the intense strain that this portal had placed on her body. Just how strong was this portal? Dorathea made herself invisible, worried about what the powerful and terrifying human beings who managed to create this portal would be like.

She was lucky to notice that the space was empty. Things looked odd here, very metallic and cold. It felt almost like a dungeon. There were glass beakers everywhere, an odd box with a shiny black surface on one side of the box was in the corner of the room. When she saw a green residue on one of the far tables of the room, she concluded that her initial impression wasn’t that far off. The princess decided to avoid the strange box as she looked for an escape. Dorathea saw a staircase that looked to lead up towards the upper levels of this... whatever this place was. Whatever she’s read and learned from the Ghost Writer and his books did not prepare her enough for this strange space. Actually, she’s unsure how long it has been since she came into the human realm.

That doesn’t matter. We came here to find a ball, and a ball is what we shall find, Dorathea reminded herself.

Until she could find a ball to attend, she would remain invisible. Her amulet will protect her, (it might be a chain tethering her to her brother, but is still powerful and allows her to present more human traits) but it would be best to err on the side of caution. After all, she does not want any unnecessary trouble from the humans who created this portal.

Princess Dorathea’s core thrums in excitement, and in her high spirits, she begins to quietly hum to an old tune that has been lost to time and memory to the living and undead worlds. A tune Father had taught her and although she had forgotten the lyrics long ago, the melody plays in her head crystal clear.

She hopes that this new experience will bring memories worth keeping.

[notbecauseofvictories]

Hi Sarah! My friend and I are starting a bookclub (as much as you can with two people who aren't pressed for deadlines) and I was wondering if you have any recommendations? (That is if you have time to rec anything!) We're starting off with Deathless and have Fitzgerald next in line somewhere but I def want to try to expand the genres we read and tbh from years of following you, I trust your judgement

I don’t...like giving recommendations? At least not directly, it seems like too much opportunity for getting it wrong. Everybody has their own tastes, after all, and even the best of friends don’t necessarily vibe with what you vibe with. (I’ve experienced this with multiple friends, so I know what I’m talking about.) Truly, one of the reasons that my whole “I’m going to get back into reading for pleasure!” push has been so successful is that I only bother with books that interest me, and stop reading when they fail to catch my attention.

But I’ve now read at least 60 books in 2020, which is approximately 60 more than I’ve read in the years prior, so I’m happy to share that. Below is my list of recent reads, beginning to end, along with a very short review---I keep this list in the notes app on my phone, so they have to be. Where I’ve talked about a book in a post, I’ve tried to link to it. 

Peruse, and if something catches your interest I hope you enjoy!

2020 Reading List

Crazy Rich Asians series, Kevin Kwan (here)

Blackwater, Michael McDowell (here; pulpy horror and southern gothic in one novel; come for the monster but stay for the family drama.)

Fire and Hemlock, Diane Wynne Jones (here; weird and thoughtful, in ways I’m still thinking about)

The Secret History, Donna Tartt

Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn (here; loved it! I can see why people glommed onto it)

Swamplandia!, Karen Russell (unfinished, I could not get past the first paragraph; just....no.)

Rules of Scoundrels series, Sarah MacLean (an enjoyable romp through classic romancelandia, though if you read through 4 back to back you realize that MacLean really only writes 1 type of relationship and 1 type of sexual encounter, though I do appreciate insisting that the hero go down first.)

The Bear and the Nightingale, Katherine Arden (here)

Dread Nation, Justine Ireland (great, put it with Stealing Thunder in terms of fun YA fantasy that makes everything less white and Eurocentric)

The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson (VERY good. haunting good.)

Tell My Horse, Zora Neale Hurston (I read an interesting critique of Hurston that said she stripped a lot of the radicalism out of black stories - these might be an example, or counterexample. I haven't decided yet.)

The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society, T. Kingfisher (fun!)

St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves, Karen Russell (some of these short stories are wonderful; however, Swamplandia's inspiration is still unreadable, which is wild.)

17776, Jon Bois (made me cry. deeply human. A triumph of internet storytelling)

The Girl with All the Gifts, M. R. Carey (deeply enjoyable. the ending is a bittersweet kick in the teeth, and I really enjoyed the adults' relationships)

The Door in the Hedge and Other Stories, Robin McKinley (enjoyable, but never really resolved into anything.)

The Hero and the Crown, Robin McKinley (fun, but feels very early fantasy - or maybe I've just read too many of the subsequent knock-offs.)

Mrs. Caliban, Rachel Ingalls (weird little pulp novel.)

All Systems Red, Martha Wells (enjoyable, but I don't get the hype. won't be looking into the series unless opportunity arises.)

A People's History of Chicago, Kevin Coval (made me cry. bought a copy. am still thinking about it.)

The Sol Majestic, Ferrett Steinmetz (charming, a sf novel mostly about fine dining)

House in the Cerulean Sea, TJ Klune (immensely enjoyable read, for all it feels like fic with the serial numbers filed off)

The Au Pair, Emma Rous (not bad, but felt like it wanted to be more than it is)

The Night Tiger, Yangsze Choo (preferred this to Ghost Bride; I enjoy a well-crafted mystery novel and this delivered)

The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula Le Guin (unfinished, I cannot fucking get into Le Guin and should really stop trying)

The Ghost Bride, Yangsze Choo (enjoyable, but not nearly as fun as Ghost Bride - the romance felt very disjointed, and could have used another round of editing)

Temptation's Darling, Johanna Lindsey (pure, unadulterated id in a romance novel, complete with a girl dressing as a boy to avoid detection)

Social Creature, Tara Isabella Burton (a strange, dark psychological portrait; really made a mark even though I can't quite put my finger on why)

The Girl on the Train, Paula Hawkins (slow at first, but picks up halfway through and builds nicely; a whiff of Gone Girl with the staggered perspectives building together)

Stealing Thunder, Alina Boyden (fun Tortall vibes, but set in Mughal India)

The Traitor Baru Cormorant; The Monster Baru Commorant, The Tyrant Baru Cormorant, Seth Dickinson (LOVE this, so much misery, terrible, ecstatic; more here)

This Is How You Lose the Time War, Amal El-Mohtar, Max Gladstone (epistolary love poetry, vicious and lovely; more here)

The Elementals, Michael McDowell

Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir (didn't like this one as much as I thought I would; narrator's contemporary voice was so jarring against the stylized world and action sequences read like the novelization for a video game; more here)

Finna, Nino Cipri (a fun little romp through interdimensional Ikea, if on the lighter side)

Magic for Liars, Sarah Gailey (engrossing, even if I could see every plot twist coming from a mile away)

Desdemona and the Deep, C. S. E. Cooney (enjoyed the weirdness & the fae bits, but very light fare)

A Blink of the Screen, Terry Pratchett (admittedly just read this for the Discworld bits)

A Memory Called Empire, Arkady Martine (not as good about politics and colonialism as Baru, but still a powerful book about The Empire, and EXTREMELY cool worldbuilding that manages to be wholly alien and yet never heavily expositional)

Blackfish City, Sam J. Miller (see my post)

Last Werewolf, Glen Duncan (didn't finish, got to to first explicit sex scene and couldn't get any further)

Prosper's Demon, KJ Parker (didn't work for me...felt like a short story that wanted to be fleshed out into a novel)

The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett

His Majesty's Dragon, Naomi Novik (extremely fun, even for a reader who doesn't much like Napoleonic stories)

Three Parts Dead, Max Gladstone (fun romp - hard to believe that this is the same author as Time War though you can see glimmers of it in the imagery here)

A Scot in the Dark, Sarah MacLean (palette cleanser, she does write a good romance novel even it's basically the same romance novel over and over)

The Resurrectionist, E. B. Hudspeth (borrowed it on a whim one night, kept feeling like there was something I was supposed to /get/ about it, but never did - though I liked the Mutter Museum parallels)

Stories of Your Life and Others, Ted Chiang (he's a better ideas guy than a writer, though Hell Is The Absence of God made my skin prickle all over)

Gods of Jade and Shadow, Silvia Moreno-Garcia (fun, very much a throwback to my YA days of fairytale retellings, though obviously less European)

Four Roads Cross, Max Gladstone (it turns out I was a LOT more fond of Tara than I initially realized - plus this book had a good Pratchett-esque pacing and reliance on characterization)

Get in Trouble, Kelly Link (reading this after the Chiang was instructive - Link is such a better storyteller, better at prioritizing the human over the concept)

Gods Behaving Badly, Marie Phillips

Soulless; Changeless; Blameless, all by Gail Carriger (this series is basically a romance novel with some fantasy plot thrown in for fun; extremely charming and funny)

Black Leopard, Red Wolf, Marlon James (got about 1/3 of the way through and had to wave the white flag; will try again because I like the plot and the worldbuilding; the tone is just so hard to get through)

Pew, Catherine Lacey (a strange book, I'm still thinking about it; a good Southern book, though)

Nuremberg Diary, GM Gilbert (it took me two months to finish, and was worth it)

River of Teeth, Sarah Gailey (I wanted to like this one a lot more than I actually did; would have made a terrific movie but ultimately was not a great novel. Preferred Magic for Liars.)

Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia (extremely fun, though more trippy than Gods and the plot didn't work as well for me - though it was very original)

The New Voices of Fantasy, Peter S. Beagle (collected anthology, with some favorites I've read before Ursula Vernon's "Jackalope Wives", "Hungry Daughters of Starving Mothers" "The Husband Stitch"; others that were great new finds "Selkie Stories are for Losers" from Sofia Satamar and "A Kiss With Teeth" from Max Gladstone and "The Philosophers" from Adam Ehrlich Sachs)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Rise

Merlin prompt for you, you mystical purple dragon! I am absolutely obsessed w/your vulnerable Arthur fic 'Collapse': Arthur has been going through a particularly bad spell of symptoms with his heart when there's word of enemy mercenaries camping in Camelot's forests. He wants to go with the knights to fight them off, and Merlin pleads with him not to.

Thanks nonny for the prompt!

Read on Ao3 Part 1: Collapse

Pairings: Merthur can be platonic or romantic you decide

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3479

The first time Arthur collapses in the middle of the training ground Merlin’s heart leaps into his throat. He barely hears the roar of the other knights over the rush of blood in his ears as he scans the field, looking for something, anything, and rushing to Arthur’s side.

In other words: Arthur has a heart defect that none of them knew about. He and the rest of Camelot have to learn how to deal with it. 

That’s the last big blowout they have for a while. Arthur gets up after a few moments, stretching a little awkwardly and wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist when he overbalances. Merlin coaxes him gently into his chair and fetches another quill, settling it in his hand and seeping the remnants away.

“No,” Arthur says when Merlin goes to throw them out, “keep them.”

Merlin pauses, his hand already outstretch to throw it away. “Are you sure?”

“I want to keep them.”

“…alright. Where should I—“ Arthur holds his hand out— “okay.”

Merlin doesn’t ask any more questions, just gets back to his chores. Pick up the laundry basket, tuck the sheets into the corner of the bed that always seem to come untucked first. Pull back the curtains, tie them tight. Check Arthur’s armor for repairs, not that there’s been as much need for that lately. Tuck the sheet in at the corner again. Dip outside to carry the basket to the laundresses. Come back with lunch. Sit Arthur down and have him eat.

“Sit with me,” Arthur says softly, catching hold of Merlin’s sleeve.

“I have to go get the—“

“Please?”

“You’re shamelessly taking advantage of the fact that I can’t say no to you when you say ‘please,’ aren’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Merlin sighs as he sits, watching as Arthur immediately digs into his own food with a gusto he hasn’t seen since…well.

“What,” Arthur asks, his mouth half-full, when he glances up and catches Merlin smiling at him, “is there something on my face?”

“…I haven’t seen you happy like that in a while.” He reaches out to pat Arthur’s collar back into place. “It makes me happy.”

Before, Arthur would scoff and turn back to his food, or if he were extremely happy, he’s toss something playfully at Merlin and say if he did his job better, he’d see Arthur like this more of the time.

Instead, Arthur just smiles softly and the food turns bittersweet in his mouth. After a moment, he picks up a goblet of pear juice and slides it over to Merlin.

“Here, you should eat too.”

“I’m not that—“ the protest dies on his tongue as Arthur gives him a look— “well don’t hog all the sausages.”

“Oh, going back to stealing my sausages, are we?”

“It’s not stealing if they’re going to a more worthy cause.”

“Putting aside the fact that you are skinny enough to be blown over by a draft of wind—“

“Oi!”

“—that’s not how stealing works.”

“How would you know?”

“The hours I just spent drafting laws and reading the resolutions say that’s how I know.”

“Prat.”

“Idiot.”

“Pass the apples?”

“Green or red?”

“Red.”

“Good. Green’s my favorite.”

“I know.”

It’s not easy but it’s getting better.

The knights, even though they still train as hard as they ever did, have altered their own routines in a way even Merlin disbelieves sometimes. Here’s the thing; Merlin knows the Knights of the Round Table. He knows they would die for their king in an instant and their loyalty rivals even that of Merlin’s sometimes.

He just didn’t realize they were as willing to live for Arthur as they were to die for him.

Out of all of them, Gwaine’s change is the most significant. He barges into Arthur’s chambers with a disrespect that almost shoulders Merlin’s insubordination out of the way. Gwaine waltzes in, plants a tankard of mead on the table, and props his dirty boots not he polished wood like it isn’t Merlin’s job to clean it.

“No, no,” Merlin sighs when Gwaine tracks mud all the way in, “please, ruin eight hours of work in two seconds, be my guest.”

“Thanks, Merlin,” Gwaine says with a wink.

“What is it this time, you forget something?”

“Oh no, I’ve just got some questions for the man that thinks it’s a good idea to not give the men a day off for the rest of the week.”

“You’ve just had two days off,” Arthur says with a sigh, rubbing his forehead, “and I’m also fairly certain you were groaning about having too much time off two days ago.”

Gwaine shrugs. “Well, I’ve reconsidered.”

Merlin rolls his eyes as Arthur starts bickering with Gwaine. Of course, he knows why Gwaine’s doing this.

Gwaine and Arthur have never seen eye to eye on a lot, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean the two men aren’t fiercely loyal to each other. Arthur is the first noble in a long time to earn Gwaine’s respect, and Gwaine is the first man who has absolutely refused to be anything but honest with Arthur. It’s refreshing for the both of them,

“If you can explain why you’ve been going through shirts like Percival goes through sleeves—“

“You try squeezing that man into chainmail without a bucket of lard!”

“Where did you even get a bucket of lard?”

“Wait,” Merlin interrupts, staring hard at Gwaine, “is this why the kitchen’s food has been—“

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Did you seriously—“

“You’ve got no proof.”

“You just said—“

“I said no such thing.”

“Will you even—“

“Let you finish?” Gwaine grins broadly and takes a huge bite of an apple. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re a menace,” Arthur sighs, chucking another apple into Gwaine’s open hand, “and the kitchens should ban you from the halls.”

“Oh, you know he and Percival will just be in the vent with a hook on the end of a string.”

“Wait, that was you?”

Percival isn’t as brash as Gwaine, nor is he as openly talkative as the rest of the knights. Instead, he starts picking up shifts as Arthur’s guards outside his door. Merlin gets a chance to see him more often as he’s no longer training with the knights, and Percival is always close by if Arthur needs to talk to one of his knights directly. Originally, there was some push back from one of the stewards who said that it was, er, ‘unbecoming’ of a knight to ‘demote’ himself to guard duty.

That didn’t last long.

Come on, it’s Percival. The man’s a horse-and-a-half by himself.

Arthur won’t say it out loud, but Merlin can see by the way his shoulders relax when they hear Percival outside that he’s happier when Percival is close. It’s hard not to feel safe around Percival, really, it is. Not only is the man easily twice the size of most would-be attackers, but he’s steadfast in a way that few men are. He’s never shy about offering his own insights when he feels they’re overlooking something important, but he chooses his words carefully. Most men of Arthur’s will say what they mean, Percival means what he says. There’s a difference there—not a big one, but a difference.

“Sire,” Percival says as Arthur calls him in, “Merlin.”

“Hello, Percival.”

“Ah! Percival! Just in time.” Arthur stands up from his desk. “How is the report coming?”

“Very well.” Percival sits down, all creaking chainmail and armor, on the chair nearest the door. “I’ll have it into you by next week.”

“Have you spoken to the other guards?”

“I have. You were correct.”

Arthur nods, looking down at the desk and furrowing his brow. “The new regimen should be about ready to go by then…of course you will look it over before it is implemented.”

“Of course, sire.”

“Well,” Arthur says, clapping his hands, “you must at least join us for a drink.”

“I am still on—“

“There is no one better to keep me safe while I am having a drink,” Arthur interrupts softly as he starts to pour, “than Merlin and one of my most trusted knights.”

And if Percival starts to go a bit red from the drink a little faster than normal, well, no one’s about to say anything.

Lancelot offers counsel as often as he can. Merlin’s never one to turn away one of the knights at the door, nor is Arthur one to ignore the trusted word of his inner circle. Lancelot is by far the most…unchanged by the adaptation. He still addresses Arthur with the same tone as he did before, as though they’re all pretending that Arthur is taking an extended leave of absence. It’s nice, the stability of normality that keeps them all a little saner.

“And what of the people,” Arthur asks when Lancelot finishes giving an overview of the patrols that week, “do they seem…discontent? Upset?”

“On the contrary, Sire.” Lancelot shifts in his seat. “Ever since you have taken power and drawn back the guards, the people are happier. They walk about the streets with less fear, they trust the guards’ presence more in their space.”

“Good. And the provisions?”

“Those who could not sustain themselves before have an easier time cultivating a crop. With the assurance that the citadel will not leave them to die, they have time to ensure their own success.”

Arthur nods. “And we have had no issues with people taking offense to the offers of help?”

“None whatsoever.” Lancelot bows his head. “If I may, sire, this is the most prosperous I have seen this kingdom in all the years I have been here.”

“We are our people’s servants as much as they are ours,” Arthur says with a decisive nod, “we fail our duty if we do not support them.”

“Wiser words never spoken.”

Merlin’s doing his own little internal victory dance in the corner. The thought of Uther’s rage-filled face seeing his son meticulously undo everything he’s strived so hard to accomplish is enough to make him grin out of pure spite. And a good helping of pride.

“What’re you grinning about over there,” Arthur says suddenly, “you win a wager?”

“As a matter of fact—“

“No, no,” Arthur says quickly, “don’t tell me. I’m not getting swooped up in Gwaine’s mess again.”

Lancelot rolls his eyes. “I’m still finding hay in my chain mail.”

“Me too.” Arthur shoots a glance at Merlin. “You’d think it’d be better cleaned.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow. “If you think you could do better, then by all means.”

Lancelot hides his snort in his goblet.

When Arthur is allowed to go outside—with Merlin by his right, of course, and at least one of the guards a few paces behind just to run for Gaius if need be—he typically goes down to visit Gwen and Elyan in their father’s forge. Since the…change, Elyan asked permission to take a more active role in the blacksmithing aspect of their family. Morgana, as was to be expected, allowed Gwen to work at the forge with a smile and a favor: Morgana’s armor, sat unused since Uther forbade her training, was to be repaired and ready for her to use.

There were no objections, not that any would’ve lasted long.

Elyan meets them at the door of the forge, smiling and wiping sweat off his brow. “Good to see you two, glad you could make it.”

“Always happy to come see you,” Arthur says, clapping him on the shoulder, “by all means, show us what you have today.”

“Just small improvements, Gwen’s got the big things.” Elyan takes them through to the storage area, where the heat from the forge doesn’t threaten to sear their eyebrows off. Merlin’s learned his lesson. “Adjusted breastplates for the archers, different gauntlets for Percival, and a leather tunic designed to increase insulation for the colder months.”

“And you say you haven’t done anything.”

“Oh, just you wait until Gwen’s done.”

Sure enough, Gwen emerges a moment later, tired and sweaty from her time near the open fire, but a triumphant grin on her face. She waves when she sees Arthur and Merlin. “It’s done!”

Merlin’s eyes widen. “Morgana’s armor?”

“Well, it’s got to wait a little bit until she can actually try it,” Gwen huffs, setting her tools aside, “but yes. That should be the last big step.”

Merlin rushes forward to seize her in a hug. Elyan just chuckles. “That’s our Gwen.”

Arthur nods. “That’s our Gwen.”

“Alright, alright,” Gwen mumbles, “enough. You’re all worse than Morgana.”

“Oh, no, she’s going to do much more than we are.”

“I know, I know.” Gwen’s hands fidget a little. “…I know.”

“Alright,” Elyan says quickly, what else did you need to see?”

“Right.”

Then there’s Leon.

Merlin can’t really do much but watch those two, when they walk through the halls together, when they sit at Arthur’s desk and talk, when they stride in council meetings with Leon at Arthur’s left. They’ve known each other since, well, since Arthur was a boy.

There are secrets between them, secrets Merlin would never dare ask of them, that pulls them together in a way that no one else could ever hope to understand. And that paints everything they do now in a fine shade of gray.

Merlin can see the way Leon looks at Arthur. It’s the way he’s seen Gaius look at him sometimes when he thinks Merlin isn’t paying attention, or the way he remembers his mother looking at him. He can see the way Arthur looks at Leon, the way Merlin looks at Gaius or Gwen.

He sees the clever way Leon is always right next to Arthur whenever any of the lords come to visit, ready with a hand hidden beneath the cloak or a quick word when Arthur needs a moment.

Leon is the only person aside from Morgana that Merlin trusts enough to leave in Arthur’s chambers, alone.

Speaking of which, there’s probably a reason Uther never let Arthur, Leon, and Morgana be alone in the same room, other than his arrogance and dismissal of Morgana as a woman.

Between Morgana’s sharp wit and diplomatic skill, Arthur’s stubbornness and determination, and Leon’s knowledge of exactly how to make the court do what they want, it’s only a matter of time before cruel laws are being overturned and the people are happier than they’ve ever been under Uther.

Camelot prospers under Arthur’s rule, not because of his proficiency with a blade, but his duty to his people.

That doesn’t mean it’s not without struggles.

When the first patrol goes out around the border, Arthur’s heading for the armor cabinet before Merlin can stop him. He opens it and starts pulling on his tunic, only to look around and realize Merlin’s not there.

“Well? Help me get it on.”

“You’re not going, Arthur,” Merlin says softly.

“What? Of course I am, it’s the border trip.”

“I know what it is,” Merlin says, walking a little closer, “and you’re not going.”

“Give me one reason why you think I shouldn’t go!”

As a response, Merlin simply nods toward Arthur’s hand on the cabinet door. Sure enough, as soon as Arthur looks, they can both see it’s starting to shake.

Arthur swallows heavily.

“…it’s just a ride,” he mutters after a moment, “it’s not a fight.”

“You don’t know it won’t turn into one.”

“The border patrol is safe.”

“Patrols are never safe.”

“I have to go,” Arthur explodes, looking at Merlin with such ferocity that Merlin almost takes a step back, “it’s my duty, I have to—to—“

Merlin winces and rushes forward. He catches Arthur as Arthur starts to slump, politely ignoring the muffled curse when Arthur remembers that he can’t shout anymore.

“I have to,” Arthur mumbles brokenly, “I have to go…I have to go…”

“Shh, shh,” Merlin hushes, “come on, breathe.”

“I’m fine.” Arthur waves him off before Merlin can tell him that he is not, in fact, fine. “I just—I—it’s—“

He slumps.

“Arthur?” Merlin quickly switches his grip, cupping Arthur’s face in his hand. “Arthur, can you hear me?”

“I can hear you.”

Merlin breathes a sigh of relief. “Alright. Then tell me what’s wrong.”

“Aside from the fact that I can’t even bloody shout anymore?”

“Aside from that.”

Arthur closes his eyes, letting Merlin lean him back against the cabinet. After a moment, he opens them again.

“For as long as I can remember,” he mumbles, “I’ve—there’s…there has always been one thing I can do to protect my kingdom.”

Merlin listens, crouching down in front of him.

“If I can…if I can just be there,” Arthur continues, his brow furrowing, “if I can be there, if…if I can see what happens, if I can—if I can be another pair of eyes, ears, hands…then that’s enough.”

Outside a horse brays.

“If I was just a someone who saw, who could—who could try and make sure things got better because I was there, then—then that was enough.”

Arthur swallows and his eyes glisten.

“And here, I can be here. I can still stand up for those who cannot stand for themselves, I can support my knights when I can’t fight alongside them.” He glances toward the window. “But out there…when they leave…I can’t be there.”

“They can take care of themselves,” Merlin reminds gently.

“I know they can, I’ve never doubted that for a second.” Arthur looks down. “But I don’t know if…”

“If what, Arthur?”

“If I could stand not letting them be seen.”

Oh.

Oh.

Merlin swallows heavily. Arthur…courageous, noble, silly Arthur.

“You see them in how you listen,” Merlin says instead, “in how you trust their judgment and seek their counsel. You see them in how you let them barge into your quarters and how you make sure they aren’t afraid to tell you when you’re wrong.”

He takes a breath and leans closer, watching Arthur’s eyes follow him.

“You see them in the way you still take Gwaine out for a drink,” he whispers, “you see them in the way you take Percival’s side in arguments, in how you never let Lancelot believe he’s any less than deserving, in the way Elyan gets to run his family’s forge with his sister by his side.”

Arthur tilts his head.

“And you see them in how Leon has never loved Uther the way he loves you.”

Arthur surges forward and bundles Merlin clumsily into his chest.

“You see them,” Merlin promises breathlessly as he clutches Arthur back, “and they see you, I promise, I promise.”

They stay there, curled up on the floor, until Percival knocks and immediately goes to fetch the others. Gwaine storms right over and scoops Merlin up in his arms, laughing when Percival immediately has to come over and grab Arthur too because they won’t let go of each other. Elyan sets a fire going as Lancelot tugs down a series of blankets and pillows from…somewhere, Merlin’s not quite sure. Leon has a word with the guards outside as they settle in front of the fire.

“Are you alright, sire,” Lancelot says softly, “do we need to get Gaius?”

“Merlin?”

“No,” Arthur mumbles as Gwaine checks in on Merlin, “no, we’re—we’re fine.”

“What happened?”

Merlin gives Arthur a nod. Arthur sighs, buries his head in Merlin’s shoulder, and explains, mumbling most of it into Merlin’s tunic.

“You’re an idiot,” Gwaine murmurs as he finishes, ruffling Arthur’s hair, “if you think that’s what makes us follow you.”

“You’re all here for Merlin, I know.”

“As true as that may be,” Gwaine says, ruffling Merlin’s hair too, “if we were just here for Merlin we’d’ve dragged him off ages ago.”

“You could try.”

“The point Gwaine is trying to make,” Elyan says, shoving Gwaine’s shoulder, “is that we’re here for you too.”

“And that means we won’t think any less of you. For any reason.”

Percival nods at Lancelot’s words, laying a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Your world is my world.”

Arthur glances around, not believing the words he hears from his knights, only for his gaze to land on Leon. Leon kneels down behind Merlin and pats Merlin’s shoulder. With one last squeeze, Merlin moves away.

Leon opens his arms. “I’ve seen you grow,” he says, “through Uther, through Agravine, and through yourself.”

Arthur stares up at him, wide-eyed.

“I’ve seen you fall, Arthur,” Leon whispers, “but I’ve also seen you rise.”

It takes only a little nudge from Percival before Arthur’s hugging Leon as fiercely as he can.

“Alright,” Gwaine claps, “now, have I told you lot the story of the great tavern fight in Mercia?”

“Several times.”

“Just yesterday.”

“You told me three hours ago.”

“Ah, but I have yet to tell you of the other great battle of Mercia. You see, the lass had just brought me this incredible wedge of cheese…”

When the stories have run out and their cups have run dry, and Elyan and Leon have made the beds in front of the fireplace as comfortable as they can—including dragging Arthur’s truly ridiculously big mattress onto the ground too—the knights bed down, around their king.

Camelot has never been safer.

[nalyria]

God Michael! 🤣🤣 I finished playing Shadows of Saintsfour about two days ago during the Freeplay event and my LI was Michael.

I played SOS awhile ago but didn't get pass season 1 because I thought the series was super predictable which made it boring, but WOW DID IT PICK UP IN SEASON 2, esp 3!!! I can't believe it got better within those 2 seasons. I thought the story would be dragging on for no reason, but was pleasantly surprised that season 3 and season 2 were tied together with 1. And they existed in one cohesive story! I can't believe that I would have never, and I mean NEVER, would have touched this story again if it wasn't for the Freeplay event. I completely underestimated this story... I would have missed out this gem. Now I see why this is one of the more well-liked and popular book of the app now.

That being said, I love Michael. No not love, I ADORE him. Seriously.

I never screencap game moments but I had to for Michael. I never felt so much adoration for a character that made me want to do this 🤣🤣. I love the romantic scenes between MC and Michael and the conflict that was presented in season 2. And his asshole-douchery flaw....

In his next line, he says he's worried about you. He's just worried, but still Michael, no need to bring your girlfriend's friend down. ESPECIALLY WHEN THAT FRIEND HAS BEEN WITH HER THROUGH THE THICK AND THIN THAN YOU DID IN SEASON 2 and 1!!! (ofc Michael saved MC's life in season 1, but Derek has been sticking with MC when Michael hasn't, which is alot)

However, his sweetness towards MC is altogether too much. I wish he had more interaction with her friends tbh. But now I present the last line (I think) and perhaps the best from Michael...

So sweet 💕. Gosh he is still fallen head over heels for us 😳😭 like the first time. The sex scene with him was also so sweet... the line said everytging about him is familiar, yet there is something new to discover. 🥺I love how protective he is of MC and how absolutely loyal he is to her. He runs away with her FFS!!!! He leaves a gang and family with an equally traumatized brother just to be with her. He leaves everything for MC and if that doesn't scream Bae material, I don't know what else. He is the epitome of a ride or die partner and I cannot, I don't think, can feel the same attachment to the other LI's in this book. Probably John though lol.

I was super anxious during the train station scene because I thought I didn't have enough points with Michael for him to run away with me and the writers made it seem so, so I tapped pretty fast, half reading the lines in trepidation. When I read that he actually came and then we held hands as the train departed... my heart... 😭💔💔💔💔 RC don't play with my heart like that 🤣🤣🤣

That aside, I wish Michael had a bigger role in season 1, 2, and 3. He did in season 1, but he stopped appearing frequently, esp in 2 and 3. I thought he would appear more often because he's MC's bf. And it would make more sense for both of them to search together. Even unromanced, it would still make sense for Michael to hang with MC's group because they're the only ones who are really actively looking for Bobby. This would have led to more dynamics and interest in MC's friend group..alas, this didn't happen. A missed opportunity IMO but I suppose his absence could be explained by this: he has his own life. Lol. Or a different way of doing things. Still doesn't really make sense to me, but oh well. I still very enjoy his route and his development nonetheless.

I also wish other LI's had more moments with MC. I heard Stephanie was sidelined, not sure though because it was as though the main love interests would only appear around the time our chosen love interest appears. Not sure how much that is true since in season 1 I didn't romance her. Strange how she barely appeared in my route though. I thought she would help us more or become part of the gang, but she didn't. Disappointed because I would have def liked another best friend besides Candy and again, more layer to the friend group. Her interaction with Michael would have def be interesting.

I also wish that non-romanced main love interests appeared more than the Black dragons. To me, I don't think their role fit with the story very well if you think about it. Luke and Stephanie def would. Stephanie's grandma is acquainted with Mrs. Hill and is a witch; Luke's family's hold over the cursed painting. I wish the black dragons' appearances were at least shared with the non-romanced ones. Like I wish I knew what Luke and Stephanie were up to in detail. It was seriously strange for Luke to not be around when Bobby was missing and that he never tried contacting us. In both seasons 2 and 3, I couldn't stop wondering what they were up to and missed them (although Luke drugged us lol).

So imo, the black dragons' role should def be less than Luke and Stephanie. Definitely weird, but it is what it is.

Speaking of the Black Dragon's, Aaron is a hot daddy. Like GOD DAMN. I couldn't help but flirt and kiss with him although I was scared that it might ruin my relationship with Michael 🤣🤣🤣. Cherry.. i would like cherry if he was drawn better. At first, I couldn't like him because of his sprite but his personality is ahh, so mischievous, I love it. I would have picked Aaron over cherry though LOL.

I would replay season 3 to romance them again, but the scenes are very few and I already played most of them. I'm just missing their final sex scenes really, so it's not really worth it to replay the entire season just to get their ending and final sex scene lol.

I can't bear to cheat on Michael with Aaron or cherry, I can't do him dirty like that. Like for FFS, Aaron married Luke's sister and we never, at least imo, build the same heart wrenching connection we do with Michael compared to them. And the fact that he freaking left everything in his life for 10 years to be with us!! Like nooo I can't!! 🤣🤣 there aren't enough scenes with the side characters to justify the cheating 🤣🤣 Michael is too gentle and sweet for the hurt.... but i did cheat on him with Derek HAHHAHA mostly because 1996 Michael wasn't available so I thought something happened so I was like ALRIGHT GUESS WE FUCKIN'. I was tempted to choose Derek over Michael because Derek has been with us more than Michael has. Not to mention, he really cares for MC. Wish there was a 3p ending with both of them 😭😭 they're both super loyal to MC and would lay their life down for her.

The same thing with John too. I can't bear to see Michael grieving over MC and MC picking John over him... can you imagine Michael dying and finally seeing his dearly desired dead gf in DreamWorld but only to see her gettin' it down with some guy who tried to kill everyone in the past? 🤣🤣🤣 nah man I can't do him dirty, especially when Michael saved us from the Faun. Speaking of that event, it was weird that there wasn't a conversation/consequence from Michael who saw John kiss us LOL. And he definitely heard us talking about the intimate moments we shared HAHAHAHA. Though, John's short route is terribly cute. I really enjoyed it tbh. Surprised that we didn't have any repercussions for cheating on Michael with him. Moving on, I watched his ending on YouTube and it was super bittersweet.😭

I honestly like his route a bit more than Aaron's. Or equally. Can't decide! Aaron's route is basically MC still in love with her old crush who used to intimidate her and was exciting since he's someone you wouldn't acquaint yourself with, especially as a young, inexperienced student. And then coming back as a mature woman, and still knowing that you're in love with him and he is still too, ah so cute. That moment you share with him in the snow on the swings 💕💕. Honestly I feel like that moment MC needed a proper adult figure to comfort her so that scene was a bit weird and made me think, hm, MC is probably crushing on him because he is older, hot, and is sort of providing a parental comfort to her lol. In my HC universe, MC crushes on him, but it quickly dies because she was vulnerable in the moment. I'm happy that that moment didn't escalate any further and that Aaron didn't chase MC unless MC did in the end. It would have been very weird because it would have been a moment where he, as an adult figure, take advantage of MC. Then again, it's fantasy/fiction. To each to their own eh? I still enjoyed it. I honestly could personally relate to the line where Mc says that the experience and age (something like this) provided comfort to her, so that moment felt awfully sweet to me.

In the end, there could only be so much you can push in in a story game app.

I still really enjoyed this story. Despite the flaws I pointed out, I love this story to every bits. I find this much more entertaining than SOTF, so I'm glad that it is written the way it is. Perhaps I should write a post about SOTF in the future since I'm close to finishing it, but I don't think I will since I don't like it much.

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets XIV

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing, 

• • •

The car was mostly quiet while you drove, except for the low 80’s hair bands playing over the radio that you didn’t care to change. Whenever you sat in this car you got a bit sad. But it was a kind of bittersweet sadness. SInce you learned to drive here in Hawkins.

Dad always promised that he’d teach you as soon as you turned sixteen, that he’d take you to get your permit, and be your emotional support when you took the driving test. 

Pa always said that he’d help you buy a Volkswagen. A kind of generational thing to him. His dad owned a Beetle as a broke kid in Connecticut, he owned the exact same year and model as you currently did. Except yours was preowned, and you knew with how he was raised, he bought it new. 

“We should have a tape.” 

It caught you off guard a little, being off on your own train of thought to remember the eighth grader who was in the seat next to you.

Turning your head to briefly look at Will, you looked back at the road. “What?” 

“Well I mean, you, Jonathan and me have all been hanging out together a lot when you’re not hanging out with Steve, we should have a cassette we play whenever we’re hanging out together.”

Sometimes it was hard to remember that Will was your dad. They were technically the same person, and yet, they were different. Your dad and you were as close as could be, a lot of people seemed to be closer to their moms growing up. But considering you didn’t have one you attached yourself to your dad. But Will was just a kid, who went through something terrible that was traumatizing, and it was hard to connect the two together. But you did realize that your little brother looked a lot like your dad when he was younger. The only difference being their eyes. With Will having hazel eyes and Danny having dark brown eyes. So, you often found yourself treating Will like you would Daniel. 

Will’s suggestion reminded you of the fact that you and Pa had made a playlist on Spotify for the trip to Hawkins. It had been a good idea, and you got suggestions from both your dad and Daniel, but now, it just made you remorseful. 

“Nevermind, it’s a bad idea-”

“What? No! It’s a good idea!” You rushed, looking back and forth from the road and back at Will. seeing the arcade sign in the distance. “Just make sure you put some Queen on there.” You added with an awkward smile, seeing Will’s face light up a bit. 

Pulling into the parking lot you found a spot by the door, seeing Mike, Dustin and Lucas all walking up to the bike rack right outside, and waving as a greeting to the two of you. 

“Okay, what are the rules?” You asked turning to Will as he reached down to the floorboard and pulled out your bag, handing it to you. 

“If we get separated, don’t walk or bike home, just ask to use the phone and call mom, and if anything happens to find you.”

You nodded, taking the bag from him, taking the keys out of the ignition. “Sweet, let’s go.” Opening the door of the driver’s side you got out of the car. 

Having grown up when places like arcades and movie rental places started going out of business, you never got to go to them. The first time you’d gone to the arcade with the boys, you stuck to Pac-Man, always being able to go on your chromebook at school and play it on the google browser. 

You had the high score on Pac-Man since March of that year, and when they got Tetris in late June, after it came out, you quickly took the high score of that game as well. Having had it on your phone since sixth grade, you knew how to play. Not even Dustin or Lucas could beat your scores. 

Giving the three other boys a smile you went inside, seeing Keith behind the counter, you walked over. “Hey, can you sneak me a drink?” 

Arcades didn’t technically sell food or drinks, they weren’t going to because of the games, and children being irresponsible. But Keith would sometimes hide a few sodas in a minifridge to sell them to the older kids and teens. 

“Two dollars.” He told you, leaning down to grab one from the minifridge while you pulled out a two dollar bill, briefly seeing the portrait of Thomas Jefferson while you exchanged it for the beverage. “Tell Robin that our section leader wants her to change seats-”

“Sorry, I don’t speak ‘band geek,’ bye.” You told him, opening the can of sprite while you made your way over to the Pac-Man machine, placing the can on the slanted control board, letting it lean on your abdomen to prevent it from falling on the ground. 

You played your game for what felt like a good thirty minutes, the map changing every time you beat it until you eventually died one too many times. 

Taking a sip from the aluminum can you sighed a bit hearing Will and his friend clamoring on the other side of the isle, at ‘Dragon’s Lair.’ before their voices fell silent, meaning that whoever had gone up to play it, died. But that was only for a second before you heard the faint cursing of Dustin. 

Smiling to yourself you pulled out a quarter from your back pocket, inserting it into the machine. 

Placing the drink down, you heard the unexpected sound of sliding, which made you panic, because you knew that the drink was about to fall. 

You acted quick, but the boy to your right acted quicker. He caught the can and looked up at you, he looked almost terrified that you seemed to notice his presence. 

He looked oddly familiar, he was a boy, with medium brown hair that was at an odd length, and he seemed disheveled. 

“Heh,” he laughed nervously, holding the can out to you. “Here you go.” He said. Taking the drink from him you saw how quickly he practically ran off. He couldn’t have been much younger than you. Maybe a year or two, if that. 

“Okay. . . that was weird.” You told yourself before the string of “No, no, no, no,” Came from behind you. Turning around you saw Dustin turning to Dig-Dug

“Who’s Madmax?” Dustin demanded of Keith, while you walked the meter or so over to the group. You wanted to say something related to Madmax: Fury Road, but you knew better at this point. 

Over a year spent in a time period where no one understood the references you made, you learned to usually not make the jokes or sarcastic references. 

“Better than you.” Keith responded, with a shrug. Both you and Dustin held up your middle finger to the highschool senior. 

Usually you were the mediator between him and the kids, and often times you wondered if that’s how it felt to be either one of your fathers who tried to stop you and your brother fighting with each other, or how Uncle Jonathan felt trying to get you and your youngest cousin, who was your age, to stop fighting whenever you all got together. 

“Is it you?” Will asked, holding up a hand and pointing at Keith. 

He scoffed and shook his head. “You know I despise Dig Dug.”

“Then who is it?”

You watched them converse with the older male while you held your soda, taking a small sip. 

“Yeah, spill it, Keith!” Dustin told him.

“You want information, then I need something in return.” Keith looked from Dustin to Mike, and you knew what he trying to get. 

“Gross, Keith.” You told him, grimacing.

“No, no, no! No way! You’re not getting a date with her!” 

“Mike, come on. Just get him the date.” Lucas reasoned while you glared at him. 

“Guys, she has a boyfriend.” You reminded them.

Mike nodded and pointed back at you. “That, and I’m not prostituting my sister!” Dustin and Lucas began to bicker with Mike while you and Keith began your own bickering. 

Sure, you were a lot like Will in many ways, but you were also a lot like your Pa in many others. Always being the one to try and prove someone else wrong, or just bickering for the fun of it. 

“You’re friends with Robin, Jonathan, Nancy and Harrington, yet you hang out with toddlers?” He tried to insult, while he took a cheeto from his bag. 

“Different hairstyles exist, Keith, you don’t have to try and copy Steve’s from last year.” You told him with a fake smile.

“Toddlers,” He said again, gesturing to the boys who were still bickering. 

You smiled a bit and pointed to your own two front teeth. “Cheeto dust.” You told him, before pointing at him.

Keith turned his attention back to Mike, Lucas and Dustin while you turned yours to Will upon feeling his shoulder brush against your arm while he moved past you. 

“Will, you okay?” It was a simple question, that would probably have a simple answer, with a complicated background to it. A complicated lie he wouldn’t ever say was one. But you blinked and suddenly everyone but Will was gone. 

“Do you see the-” He turned back around and his eyes landed on you, confused and worried. You looked at the front windows and saw the white particles that at first looked like snow, until a second longer and they reminded you of the Upside Down. 

The lights went out and you looked to the Pac-Man machine to your left, seeing the screen was on, but something big was covering most of it. The lights flickered on the machines, and the sound of electricity struggling to stay on had you stuck in one position. Which was your legs tensed and your hand clutching onto your soda while you stared at the screen, finally placing what it all was. 

There was a loud bang, which made you drop your drink and grab onto Will’s arm, pulling him back only to realize it was just the door that had swung open. 

“You see it too?” 

You nodded before taking small steps towards the door, keeping Will behind you while you walked outside. The sign still turned, but in the distance you could see clouds, which you didn’t remember from being in the Upside Down. It had always been too dark to see any sort of sky. 

The lightning was red and while you stared at the sky, you felt an uneasy feeling come that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The same chills that were sent down your spine the year before having you practically paralyzed in fear. 

You couldn’t quite put it into words, but it felt like all of those stories where you look into a certain spot in the woods that’s so dark you don’t know what’s there, but know there’s something, that you’re not just crazy, and it felt malevolent. Like it wanted to hurt people, but specifically, you. 

You felt someone grab your sleeve, and looking down, everything was normal again, with Mike and WIll right by your side. Will still looked scared, but Mike seemed confused and worried. “Y/n, you okay?”

You nodded a bit “Yeah, I’m fine.” You told him, taking one last look at the sky.

• • •

The woman hummed a gentle tune while writing something down in her notebook, a college textbook in front of her. 

“Y/n, don’t stalk me, just have a conversation.” She told you, turning her head to look up at you, her eyes the same as your own while she gestured to the seat across from her. 

You glanced over to the seat before sighing and walking over, taking a seat on the uncomfortable wooden chair. 

“You came here for a reason, what’s going on?” You shrugged a bit, crossing your arms on the table and leaning down to rest your chin on your forearm. “Sweetheart,” She reached out, a gentle hand on your exposed bicep, your pajamas consisting of a muscle shirt and ballet shorts. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me?”

You knew what you wanted to ask her, but you were nervous. “Did you know? That’d I end up like this? That’d I be like you?” 

Her face softened a bit and she shook her head, eyes downcast while she placed her pen down, giving you all of her attention. 

“No,” She answered. “I didn’t. I only knew when you were born. I felt it. And I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

Looking at the textbook in front of you both, you examined the picture that was upside down for you, seeing the diagram of the human skeleton.

Getting up from her seat she came over next to you. “You carry a burden, and so many people will try to use you as a weapon, because you have abilities that could destroy entire nations. People want to manipulate you.”

“You’ve told me.” You reminded her. “I saw the Upside Down.”

Her face fell as she kneeled down next to you. “You got back in?” 

“No. One moment I was safe, in the arcade, and the next, I was there. And there was a storm in the distance. The lightning was red, and I was frozen, in fear. It wanted to hurt me, I could feel it, it wanted me dead. Anne, I don’t what to do-”

“Miss L/n!” 

Your eyes snapped open, and you quickly wiped your nose of any blood looking up to see the entire class staring at you, while the principal stood by the door, and Mr. Haul pointed to the book “Before Mr. Olson takes you, can you tell me what the main message of Animal Farm is?” 

You gave a nervous chuckle. “Communism, bad?” It got a few laughs out of the class, while Mr. Haul scowled at you before jerking his head to the side to let you follow the principal out. 

In a rush you shoved your things into your bag and got up, going over to Mr. Olson. This happened once or twice every few months. 

The older man led you out of the class and down the hall, while you struggled to get your walkman out of your bag. Looking up you saw Steve coming out of the restroom, sunglasses on. “Jesus,” You shook your head a bit as you and the principal came closer to crossing paths with Steve. 

“Only blind people and assholes wear sunglasses inside, Steven.” You mumbled when you passed him. 

“Funny,” He mumbled back, hiding a grin from you while he walked back to his class, and you smiled as well when Mr. Olsen opened the front doors, where you saw Hopper waiting by his car. 

“Have a good afternoon, Miss L/n.” He told you  as you left the building, with you returning the sentiments.

When you were in the car, it was mostly quiet between the two of you. The music that came from the foam headphones drowning out the killing silence. You needed it. In the past year, silence always felt like it was trying to kill you. Lately everything felt like a death trap, and you felt like you were going crazy. 

“You gained a pound.” Owens informed when he walked in the room, where you sat, Hopper was to the left of the medical seat, while the stool Owens usually sat at was to your left. “That’s good news.” He added, placing the clipboard on the table.

You hummed a bit. You were slowly but surely getting back to the weight you should be at, from a month of being starved and dehydrated from the Upside Down. It fluctuated for a long time, being so one moment you were on the right track and the next, you were under the original weight you had been at when ending up in Hawkins. 

“How has your medication been working out?” 

“It’s been fine.” You stopped taking them six months ago, and currently had a small box of plastic pill bottles that you used for noise when you forgot batteries for your walkman. 

“That’s good.” Owens commented. “Are you doing anything for Halloween? I know Will is going trick or treating.”

“Probably just gonna be home watching Halloween and handing out candy.” You shrugged a bit, feeling uncomfortable under the eyes of the nurse, Hopper and Owens. 

“No parties?”

“And get ‘sheet faced?’” You quoted the party invitation Nancy had showed you when she tried to convince you and Jonathan to go. “No thanks.” 

Owens chuckled a bit, and Hopper put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Looking up at the Chief, he gave a tight lipped smile, showing he was just as uncomfortable as you were. 

“Okay, let’s talk about this episode you and Will said you had.”

You nodded a bit, knowing that all Owens would do was come up with a stupid excuse as to why you and Will had the same experience that you both nervously talked about on the car ride back to his home. 

“I. . . I took Will to the arcade so he could spend time with his friends, and so I could a game or two. His friends and I got into an argument with someone who worked there, and then I felt Will move past me. . . One second we were in the arcade, and then everyone was gone, then we were. . . back in the Upside Down.” You told him. 

“Okay, what happened next?”

“The door. . . it was flung open, and we walked outside. I kept Will behind me, and when there was a storm brewing. And it was straight out of a comic book, the clouds were dark, and then there was red lightning, I felt. . . I felt. . .” 

“What did you feel?”

“Like I was in danger. Like there was something staring back at me. Something evil, that has no. . . human emotions. It’s like when you’re a kid, you just watched a scary movie like Paranormal Activity or something, and you feel like there’s something in your room when you’re trying to sleep. You feel like something’s there with you. It wanted me dead.”

“The evil?”

You nodded and looked up at him, feeling the parts taped your head shift a little under the tape. “Yeah. It wasn’t like it wanted everyone dead though. It wanted me dead.”

• • •

Add yourself to the taglist!

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers​​ @jxnehxpper​​ @yllwtaxi​​ @songofcosplay​​ @potatopooper05​​ @cheesecakeisapie​​ @robinsdolan​​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​​ @the_passionate_freak @bisexualpears​​ @ilovebucketbarnes​​ @random-thoughts-003​​