#i am very excited for divergence this week

[flabotanum]

The end of an era (…canonically).

There’s so much to say but none of my thoughts are entirely complete or coherent just yet, so I’ll just say this: thank you Critical Role.

I have loved this beautiful, messy, poignant story and all the stories that have formed it. It has brought me many laughs, tears, and moments that will forever stick with me, and for that I am so grateful.

Thank you Vox Machina, the Mighty Nein, and Bells Hells.

Thank you to the Crown Keepers, the Ring of Brass, and the party from ‘Downfall’ that I don’t think has an actual name.

Thank you to the cast and crew, the guests, and everyone else who contributed to this story (including the fan creators- I literally have a gallery of CR fanart on my phone, taking up way too much storage, just as a reliable serotonin source).

While this chapter closes, the story isn’t over entirely and I am very excited to see all that comes next.

[sunrizef1]

big reputation pt 3

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

Warnings: Kelly piquet? Slight violence, canon divergent (Logan has a seat lmfao)

Authors Note: from now on every fic I post will be considered a period piece because I am NOT taking Logan out of that seat.

Pt1 Pt2

yourusername

📍Cardiff, Wales

liked by lewishamilton formulaone and 25,888,007 others

yourusername Cardiff, you were wonderful!!!!! We had never played a show in Wales before but we will definitely be back again! We all had a great time ✨ Thank you so much for coming out and having the night of your lives with me, I'm so grateful for every single one of you! 🖤 I’ll see you soon, Edinburgh…📸

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user1 I love you queen

user2 guys… I miss the drivers

user3 they miss one show like every two weeks and y'all say this every time 😭😭😭

user3 and they'll probably be back next week in Hungary anyway! 😭

user2 but that's like only one or two drivers or just their girlfriends or just f1-related people, its not the same 😭 I need them all together again 😭🙏

user4 my show 🥰

user5 we need more shows in wales…

yourusername ...✌️

user5 TWO??? AS IN LEG 2??? MORE CARDIFF SHOWS NEXT YEAR???

user6 RATATATATATATATATATATATA

user7 the camera emoji after Edinburgh??? And the dots?? …Ready for it? Music video announcement in Edinburgh???

charles_leclerc ✨🖤

liked by yourusername

user8 Logan going out of his way to make it to Cardiff... Not beating the boyfriend allegations

user9 THIS WAS MY SHOWWWWW

fernandoaloofficial Very good!!! 👍 🖤

yourusername thank you, Nando 🫶🏻

user10 🐍🐍🐍

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yourusername added to their story

oscarpiastri

damn he really is down bad

I'm assuming you mentioned the flowers once and he immediately bought them for you?

yourusername

That would be correct, yes

oscarpiastri

thought so 🙂‍↕️

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Antwerp, Belgium

liked by landonorris killatrav and 15,888,777 others

yourusername Antwerp!!! This was one of the greatest shows of my life, the crowd was absolutely electric!!! We also got a rain show, which are always my favorites ☔ We also introduced my new favourite idea, mashing-up surprise songs, which is something I am so excited to continue and you all seemed very excited so I am thrilled!! 🫶

Next up, Amsterdam ☝️ 🇳🇱🇳🇱

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user11 WOOOOOOO

user12 I was there 🙂‍↕️🙏

landonorris ✨

liked by yourusername

user13 guyssss I got mine x stay stay stay!!!! We won! 🥰

user14 I 🫶 rain shows

user15 guys notice how there's three exclamation marks… twice… 3… 3… 33… max’s old number… and then the ☝️ emoji… its a 1… max’s current number… Netherlands is next… she uses two exclamation marks at the end… two Dutch flags… Logans number is two…

user16 are you mentally okay

user15 no

user17 no drivers… what if I kms

user18 but we got the wags!!! 🥰

user17 and if I said y/n was the one true wag

user17 what then

user18 you would be correct 🙂‍↕️ 2️⃣🇺🇸

user19 wait the surprise song thing is so cute!!!!

user20 she's so prettyyyyy

lilymhe 💋💋💋

liked by yourusername

user21 I was here!!! When I tell you everyone gasped so hard when she started singing stay stay stay in the middle of mine, we were all screaming!!!

user22 LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

alexandrasaintmleux ❤️

yourusername ❤️

user23 girl I did not know mash-ups were an option 😭

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alexandrasaintmleux

The best trio 🥰

yourusername

Correct 🤭🙂‍↕️

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lilymhe

I'm so glad you're here 😭😭😭

yourusername

Me too 😭😭😭

lilymhe

I need you back in Williams ☹️

yourusername

Soon…🤭

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yourusername added to their story

logansargeant

Repping Ferrari today….

Betrayal doesnt look cute on you

yourusername

you'll be okay darling 💋

logansargeant

No ☹️

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yourusername added to their story

fernandoalo_official

Stay safe mija

you're going behind enemy lines

yourusername

Lol, thanks Nando

I'll be safe

fernandoalo_official

Just look out for anyone in orange….

They're a suspicious bunch

yourusername

I will 🫡

fernandoalo_official

Good 👍

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MESSAGES

TWITTER

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yourusername

📍Amsterdam, Netherlands

liked by alex_albon alexandrasaintmleux and 21,008,008 others

yourusername Amsterdam, you were so lovely!!! I'll admit I was a little nervous for these two shows but you all showed me so much kindness and these crowds will definitely go down as two of my favourites of all time 🫶 I had a really great time and I really felt so connected to every person in that stadium, I can't thank you enough for everything 🤍

But these shows made me realize how much we've grown this past year. Reputation was such a scary project for me and the reception from you all was so much better than I expected. Its been a year of love and I'm so thankful that you've stuck by me, you don't know how much it means 🤍🫶

So thank you to the drivers, to my friends and family, to the crew, to Jack, to Lewis, Charles and Logan and, most of all, to you, the fans. I love you 🤍

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user24 wait night one was wild

user25 as someone who was night one, the atmosphere when people found max was crazy 😭😭😭 so much yelling 😭

user26 RIGHT like I was upper bowl and had no idea what everyone was yelling about 😭

user27 IS THAT LAST PICTURE HER BF

user27 FOLLOW UP QUESTION: IS THAT LOGAN

user28 LMAO the middle finger in the last picture, she really hates max 😭

user29 why did she talk about love so much during the show and then in the caption…

user30 conspiracy theory: its their anniversary

lilymhe 💋💋💋

liked by yourusername

user31 that second pic is so cute 🥹

lewishamilton thanks for the shoutout 😎

yourusername thank YOU for everything lew 🤍

user32 out of all the drivers she chose to name three specifically: Lewis (who featured on the album and also has producer credits), Charles (who featured and has all the piano credits), and Logan, (who…. Was the muse for the album???)🫣

user33 wait why is no one talking about how crazy the max thing is

user34 yeah every ones talking about Logan but the m*x appearance is actually insane behaviour

user35 girl I read jack and fully thought she meant doohan 😭

user36 WAIT who did she mean??? I also thought she meant doohan 😭😭😭

user35 jack antonoff girl 😭

fernandoalo_official proud of you mija ❤️

yourusername thank you Nando 🤍

user36 I adore them 😭

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yourusername

📍Las Vegas, Nevadaa

liked by logansargeant charles_leclerc and 32,008,998 others

yourusername about a year and a half ago, I thought my life was over. I was betrayed by the very same people I thought were my forever.

But, after months of hiding, I ran into you at a dive bar deep in the city of Miami and suddenly my forever was you. You were in your buzzcut phase and I had just bleached my hair. You recognized me, of course. We'd met a couple of times and I'd always thought kindly of you. We started to talk and hours passed without us even noticing. I'm not sure where your friends had gone but looking back at it now, I'm glad they left because I can't imagine the conversation we had being joined by other people. It was already vaguely awkward enough.

I wasn't exactly lighting up the room that night. It had been a rough couple of months and I'd only gone out in hopes of finding a sliver of happiness. Thank god I did because it brought me to now, where I'm the happiest I've ever been. It brought me to you.

You, my love, are so wonderful and beautiful and talented and I honestly can't believe you're mine. Thank you so much for sticking beside me and becoming my forever muse. I could go on and on about the lyrics I've written about you but I think I'll just keep that for the next album 🫣

We went from hiding out in hotel rooms, curtains drawn tightly so paparazzi couldn't see and taking back roads to the studio to avoid anyone who might recognize us to you coming to every single show and me getting to sing to you and every single night.

From the new years parties in New York to the bouquets in Dublin and to the rings in Las Vegas 💍, I love you forever, Lo 🤍

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user37 AWWWWWWWWWW

user38 THIS IS INSANEEEEE

user39 the hardest of hard launches!!! 🥰

user40 WAIT WHAT

lilymhe congratulations love! No one deserves this happiness more than you 🤍🥰

yourusername lilyyyy 🥹🫶

user41 IM SOBBING MY PARENTSSSSSS

user42 THE CLIP OF CHARLES CRYING AFTER SHE SHOWS THE RING?????? MEEEEE

charles_leclerc congrats ange, so happy for you ❤️

yourusername forever grateful for your super secret spy work last year, none of this could’ve happened without you 🤍

charles_leclerc 🫡

user42 OHHHHH Charles was digging for info on max that’s why he was friends with him last year 😭

lancestroll 🥳🥳🥳

liked by yourusername

user43 this is adorable 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux me and Lily are planning the bachelorette party as we speak 🥳🎉

yourusername as long as you guys are there it will be perfect 🥹🤍

user44 AWWWWWWW OMG

carlossainz congrats!! 😎💍

liked by yourusername

landonorris LETS GOOOOO

liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri now that you're engaged I can finally yell you that he's legit had a crush on you for years. I couldnt get away from the sound of him playing Fearless over and over and over again

yourusername he's adorable. And it sounds like you're… complaining????

oscarpiastri nope ofc not, fearless is great, aoty for a reason, best country album of all time, I'd never complain 🙂‍↔️🫡

yourusername thanks osc 🤍

alex_albon did u like ur proposal…? 😽

yourusername I've been informed of your involvement and am pleased to tell you that the proposal was wonderful. Thank you Alex 🫶

alex_albon well flowers can't arrange themselves 🫡 congrats y/n

alex_albon we’re grateful to have you in the Williams family 🤍

user45 my forever muse 😭

user46 the parallels between this caption and the five year one for m*x 😭

logansargeant you’re the love of my life and I’m so grateful for the time we’ve had together 🤍 I love you so much darling and I’m so proud to get the honor of calling you my wife 🤍🤍🤍 😊

yourusername love you lo 🤍🥹

user47 oh my god they’re so in love, I’m so happy that y/n got to have this relationship after everything with max 🥹🤍

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logansargeant added to their story

yourusername

My forever boy 💍

logansargeant

I love you baby 🤍😊

yourusername

I love you too 🤍🥹

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[spatialwave]

Jayce Talis as a Husband & Father | Headcanons

➸ ask: "hiii i was wondering if you could do post s2 arcane headcanons for Jayce?? like jayce x wife!reader that have a newborn baby??" ➸ pairing: jayce talis x wife!reader ➸ word count: 923 words ➸ tags: mdni! sfw, fluff, comfort, mentions of jayce’s trauma, pregnancy, headcanons, childbirth, parenthood, canon-divergent ending. ➸ notes: i went really poetic with this idk why. also this definitely heightened my already terrible baby fever……. please for the love of god send me more asks about girldad jayce, i am begging you. i love writing these.

When you met Jayce Talis, you fell madly in love with him almost instantly—as did he with you. Within the first six months of your relationship, he proposed to you with a ring that he’d smithed himself, adorned with a hextech gemstone that sparkled unlike anything you’d ever seen. Of course, you said yes… and moved in within that same week.

Living with Jayce Talis meant dealing with the aftershocks of what he’d gone through during his time in the arcane and subsequent war. With a permanently injured leg and mental wounds that left him cursed by night terrors, you were they by his side to help him overcome his past. You were the rock he hadn’t known he needed, the one who encouraged him to keep fixing what he’d broken (and not without his partner, Viktor.)

Although he’d gone through hell and back, he found joy and happiness in you again. No longer was he filled with anger and guilt for allowing his naivety to take control of what was right—all Jayce wanted was to be happy. With you. 

When you found out you were pregnant, Jayce was over the moon, excited and horribly nervous. He constantly worried whether or not he’d be a good father, and the absence of his own in his life made him uncertain. He would spend countless evenings with his mother, asking her hundreds of questions about parenthood, which either made it better or worse depending on what he wanted to know.

However, the worry washed away when he held his little girl in his arms—weighing shy of six pounds and so tiny in his arms. It was a beautiful sight, a rugged man with messy hair, scarred arms, and calloused hands holding the love of his life.

Your daughter brings out a side of Jayce that Viktor told you is reminiscent of his life when they first met all those years ago: gentle, curious, nervous and much too excited. 

Jayce is messy and clumsy in his parenting, learning as he goes, but he is so dedicated. He’s used to being covered in stains but no longer in oil and soot from his work. Now it’s spit-up and dried milk… among other things. And to you, he’s never looked sexier than when he’s a mess.

Even though he’s still a councillor and working with Viktor on restabilizing hextech, he makes time for his family. The days of late-night tinkering in the lab or long council meetings are in the past because there is nothing more important to him than you two.

He is a very overprotective dad, constantly worrying about the little things and often getting sleepless nights because he checks on her one too many times to make sure sleeping soundly in her crib. He baby-proofs your home with everything he can make—doorstops, locks for the cabinets and removing any of his work from his home to the lab so there are no accidents. It’s cute, but considering that your daughter is shy of two months old, the baby-proofing tends to get in the way, but you let him. ‘Father knows best’ is a term he coins and uses, much to your annoyance.

Jayce always splits the tasks of parenting between you two but is never opposed to taking on more than you if you need the rest. As you slowly transition to include bottle feeding in your routine, he takes on nightly shifts for you. You find him asleep a few times, sitting up against the crib with a blanket covered in spit-up draped over his shoulder and an empty bottle in his hand.

He is a sentimental man. He makes a locket that he wears as a necklace every day, tucked beneath his clothing, and shows it off to anyone that he can—a photo of you and your daughter inside it.

You swear you’ve never been more in love with Jayce than you are now. A loving father and husband who doesn’t let his new role as a parent overshadow his love for you.

He’s just as romantic as he was the first time he took you on a date. A month after you gave birth and were far too stir-crazy to be at home any longer, Ximena watched your daughter, and he took you out on a date that reminded you of simpler times. Showering you with gentle touches and kisses that set your heart on fire and reignited your passion.

Jayce noticed how your confidence dropped since the pregnancy. He finds you looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to love the body that grew your daughter, hands over your still-rounded stomach and tracing the stretchmarks. Changes that look so large in your eyes go unnoticed by him, and he makes sure to cherish your body as a reminder that his love for you hasn’t changed.

Every night in bed, he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs—peppering your body with kisses and massaging you as he worships your strength and beauty, silently thanking you for bringing your daughter into the world. 

As with any relationship, there are good days and bad. Some days go so smoothly that you wonder if you both were naturally inclined to be the perfect parents. Then come the days when all you can do is argue, overcome with the stress, fears and worries of marriage and parenthood.

But you make it through because to be loved by Jayce Talis is to feel love unlike anything you have experienced before, and that is worth the hardships.

[venusbyline]

Jacaerys Velaryon — Nine Moons.

chapter three

(previous chapter)

(next chapter)

— summary: After Lucerys' death and the arrival of the dragonseeds, Jacaerys no longer wants to be betrothed with Baela. He wants to marry his twin sister, even if it means going against Rhaenyra's decisions and sealing suffering in your life and his.

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— type: dark, smut, sequel to Sleep (but can also be read as a standalone series)

— word count: 2.4k

— chapter's warnings: female!reader, dark!Jacaerys, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), forced pregnancy, dubcon, pregnancy sex, underage sex, breastfeeding kink, lactation kink, breast worship, nipple licking, nipple play, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, pregnancy kink, dry humping, hair-pulling, abusive and toxic relationship, manipulation, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour, gaslighting, past rape/non-con, dubcon somnophilia mentioned, drugged sex mentioned, non-consensual drug use (herbal tea) mentioned, sexism, childbirth mentioned, argument, verbal abuse, curse words, Lucerys Velaryon mentioned, implied Jacaerys Velaryon/Baela Targaryen, forced marriage mentioned, implied toxic!Rhaenyra Targaryen, dark content, sub!reader, dom!Jacaerys, soft!Jacaerys BUT NOT REALLY, Pre-Battle of the Gullet, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: Nine Moons is a shortfic, sequel to the one shot Sleep, written for Kinktober. Both Nine Moons and Sleep can be read as standalone.

— author's notes²: Each chapter will have its own trigger warnings.

— author's notes³: Guys I'm SO EXCITED to write the next chapters and this specific part of the divergence canon <3 <3 Please tell me your opinions and theories. Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated.

— high valyrian words used: Rytsas (good morning), Hāedar (younger sister), Ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved), Idaña (twin), Kostilus (please)

— crossposting: AO3

❥ Nine Moons masterlist • Jacaerys masterlist • HOTD masterlist

❥ about me • main masterlist

The morning started off lazy at Dragonstone and the sky was gray due to the clouds around. The weather felt colder than normal, even though it was not actually a raining or very windy day. Also, you had not woken up well, no night's sleep that week seemed enough to get better the uncomfortable feelings meaning the approach of the beginning of your pregnancy's last trimester.

Your body moved restlessly on the bed, turning to the opposite side when someone opened the doors of your chambers and closed it afterwards.

A cheerful mood was not being your greatest quality during that week, but you forced yourself to face the person who entered there, sighing with some frustration when you saw Jacaerys coming towards you with a cup that you knew so well what it was for.

"Rytsas, hāedar." Jacaerys scoffed in High Valyrian, making you snort and try to turn your face away again, hearing him give you a chuckle. Almost too soft for his typical behavior "Do not look at me like that, ñuha jorrāeliarzy. I am trying to be a good brother and a good lover, bringing you some tea with the herbs that the Maester prepared for you this morning."

That only made you sigh loudly, one arm under your head as you looked at the opposite side where Jacaerys was standing next to. "I know. But this tea is disgusting and tastes like some kind of unclean water, like the ones on Street of Silk must have too."

The random parallel made Jacaerys crack an amused smile, but he bit his lip to hide it, forcing himself to maintain a straight and imposing facade. "Perhaps yes." He admitted and it was your turn to frown, turning yourself to stare at him. "I am joking. I have never drank any water at any establishment on Street of Silk. Actually, I have never visited those places."

You were still suspicious and looking at him, not knowing whether or not you should believe what your twin was saying. Almost all Targaryen men visited a brothel a least once, especially those on that stupid street. However, you ignored the doubt and sat down carefully on your bed, the hand on your own belly, which was already so big that it always made you whining in pain always when you were walking around the castle or even when you just moved on the mattresses.

As you swallowed a sip of tea, you grimaced, brow furrowed, nose wrinkled and lips down. "At least it will help with the pain in your pelvis." Jacaerys murmured comfortingly, remembering the Maester's words about the drink tasting really bad. "It is what is been helping you since last week."

You hummed, focusing on drinking the liquid and finally handing the cup back to Jace, who stared at the bottom of the object before placing it on top of the dresser closer to your bed. He watched you for a few seconds, eyes attentive to how your belly seemed more swollen than it had been the last week. Even though both of you had closely followed the pregnancies of your other siblings, especially of the little Visenya who was stillborn, something about your pregnancy seemed... Different.

He could not say exactly what it was, since most of the times the Maester came to visit you to check on your and the baby's health, Rhaenyra kept him busy with something nonsense so he never had much time to pay attention to what the older man had to tell his mother. And Jace also doubted that Rhaenyra would tell you about everything.

"What did the Maester tell you on his last checking?" Jacaerys asked with a more serious expression compared to the one he had on his face when he entered the chambers.

"Not much, because he always kept the most important informations to tell just to Mother. But he said the child is developing very well, and that my belly is the right size and—"

Jacaerys snorted, running a hand over his own face. "No, it is not."

His abrupt interruption widened your eyes, both because of hie slightly worried tone and also because of his words. How the hells could anything be wrong?

"Your belly is very big for someone who is only six moons pregnant." He sat on the free part of your bed, interrupting you for the second time when you opened the lips to defend yourself, thinking he was insulting your body. "Stop this shit. You know that is not what I meant. I fucking love your body, I love your pregnant belly. If it were not for this damn war, I would fuck you for hours. Everyday. I would always caress your belly while I had my cock inside your cunt..." A sigh escaped your lips at his words, your cheeks flushing at the idea. "Anyway, what I meant is that your belly is too big for a six month pregnancy. Unless you are not just carrying one baby inside your womb."

Your brother's hypothesis echoed through the walls and you almost choked. Both of you stood there, staring at the ceiling while your brains raced to better understand the possibility of something like that happening. There were many cases of twin children in your family, such as you and Jace, the twins Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, children of your aunt Helaena and your uncle Aegon, and also Baela and Rhaena, daughters of Laena and Daemon.

However, the thought about raising twins in the middle of a war terrified you even more than before. Being forcefully pregnant by your own brother who was already betrothed with another woman was terrible, but now the possibility of being carrying more than one baby at the same time...

All of that increased the torment in your mind, and you let out a gasp of pain when you felt the baby — or one of the babies — kicking you inside. It was a sensation that happened more often than you would like.

"Our Mother is not telling you everything, is she?"

When you shook your head, Jacaerys ran both hands over his face again, muttering some curse in High Valyrian that you could not identify the meaning of. Lucerys had always been the sibling most easily able to speak the ancient language, but Jacaerys was putting even more effort into learning it since his younger brother's death. How could he be the King one day without even knowing the language of his ancestors? It would be a humiliation, a dishonor. It would prove to Westeros' people that he was nothing more than a legitimized bastard.

"I will talk to her." Jacaerys muttered, getting up from the bed. You grabbed his wrist and he frowned in a mix of confusion and irritation.

“I do not want them…” You swallowed hard, eyes filling with tears, not knowing how to continue saying the cruel things you were saying. "I do not want these children. I do not want twins, Jace. Please, this is too much. Probably I will not be able to go through their childbed or—"

The boy scoffed, pulling his arm away from your hands. There was a flicker of concern in Jacaerys' irises that he was determined to hide at any cost. "Not be able to go through their childbed?" He repeated your words indignantly. "Seven Hells, sister. You will not be the first woman nor the last one in Westeros to have twins. Laena did it. Your aunt Helaena did it too, and she was younger than you when Aegon fucked her cunt only out of duty."

It was your turn to widen your eyes in anger, your body shaking and your pelvis hurting one more time as you screamed. "BUT I DID NOT EVEN WANT TO BE PREGNANT! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO FORCED ME! YOU FUCKED ME WHEN I WAS SLEEPY AND VULNERABLE!"

Jacaerys' jaw clenched, your bitter but true sentences burning him inside. "Stop yelling." He growled slowly.

"Why? Is not it true, brother? You took advantage of me, got me pregnant against my will. You put those herbs in my dinner drink so you could try to carry out your plan by breeding me. But your plan failed and now you will need to marry Baela anyway."

"Do not be so dramatic."

"Dramatic? Jacaerys, cannot you understand? I could still be a maiden, I could… I could marry a good lord when our mother wins the war.”

"And do you really think I would let some other man marry my dear sister? Do you really think I would let some other man fuck you and breed you?" Your twin got a little closer and pointed his finger in front of your face, so close that you flinched, swearing for a few seconds that his large hand would hit your cheek. "You were always mine. You are my twin sister. We share the same blood. We shared our mother's womb at the same time. We came into the world together and we will die together. I would rather both of us die in the most painful way during this war than see you living a happy life without me."

After finishing his speech, Jacaerys caressed your cheeks, the touch so possessive and tender, many emotions passing between you. You wanted to cry out, tell him he was crazy, that Lucerys' death had turned him into an emotionally sick man. You wanted to push his hands away from your skin.

However, you also wanted Jacaerys to continue caressing your face. You wanted him to reassure you that you would not die in the childbirth. You wanted him to reassure you that everything would be fine even if you were actually pregnant with twins.

"Idaña..." You whimpered when Jacaerys lowered his fingers to your neck, applying a light pressure there, not enough to hurt you, but enough to make your crave air. He took the opportunity to bend down himself, close to you, desperate lips meeting each other while his other hand went straight to one of your breasts covered by the silk nightgown, squeezing it.

Breathing heavily, Jacaerys distanced himself from your lips and admired how the fabric of your nightwear became damp with the breast milk that flowed due to his aggressive caresses. "Fuck..." He groaned at the sight, pushing you to lay down on the bed, hovering over your body, carefully so as not to hurt your stomach. With both hands, Jacaerys tore your clothes, letting the two pieces scattered across the bed

As soon as Jacaerys took off your underwear too, he sat on the mattress and switched positions, leaning against the headboard and keeping you on top of him, your heavy and milk-filled breasts now almost in his face. "You get hotter every day, little sister." He purred, licking your collarbone and then finally sucking on your nipple, closing his eyes so he could capture as much breast milk as he wanted.

"Oh, Jace..." You looked down to see how your brother breastfeeding from you like a hungry baby. Despite the shame pounding inside your mind, your skin crawled with the overwhelming feeling of your breast being sucked and lightly nibbled. "Kostilus, idaña..." You begged with loud moans, not knowing what you were actually begging for.

For he just keeping sucking on you? For he to let you go forever and allow you to be free? For he to fuck your cunt with his fingers and with his cock afterwards?

"Kostilus?" Jace teased, repeating your plea with a mockery tone, his full lips wet with your milk, lifting his head so he could look directly at you, his fingers now playing with both of your nipples. "Do you want more, sister? But I thought you were angry that I took advantage of you, that I forced myself into you and forced you to carry my babies..."

The plural word made you wince on your twin's lap, your cunt dripping and wetting the fabric of his pants. "I... I know what I said. And it is true."

Jacaerys scoffed at your stubbornness, rolling his pretty eyes and holding your waist with his hands, causing you to whimper when he rubbed you back and forth, so slowly that you had to grab his hair and pull it back, getting a needy whining from the boy, his eyes closed with the pleasure.

You had never been a religious person, but in that moment you wished the Gods would forgive you for the way your core was so wet due the whole situation, even though the rational part of your brain knew you should be disgusted by it all. Actually, a part of you was always repudiating Jacaerys and all his acts, repudiating yourself for enjoying it too.

Perhaps you were just as disgusting and sick as Jacaerys. Perhaps deep down he was a good person who became after Lucerys' death. Perhaps trying to like it was the only way you could deal with everything. Or perhaps both of you were dirty souls, always destined for such perversities since you shared your mother's womb.

"You will not die during the childbirth. I promise you, my love." Jacaerys murmured, moving to caress your belly and enjoying the sight of the stretched skin, reddish marks appearing as the pregnancy progressed. "If you are carrying my two babies inside you indeed, then I will make sure the three of you stay alive and healthy. I will not live even a minute of my existence without my twin sister."

You swallowed hard, about to look for arguments to refute the intense assurance Jacaerys was giving you. Trying to rely on promises that demanded the graces of the Gods was a crushing feeling in your heart, an uncertainty that was filling your eyes with tears, mentally begging the universe to allow Jacaerys to be right in the end. You needed Jacaerys' promises to come true, you needed to stay alive.

When Jacaerys fingered your warm cunt and rubbed his palm over your bud, the chamber's doors swung open with a thud, your face turned pale while your naked body turned around, noticing a random guard who was not caring about the heir fingerfucking his own pregnant twin.

"Your Graces, Queen Rhaenyra orders the presence of both of you at the Small Council immediately. The Pentoshi cog carrying your younger brothers Aegon III and Viserys II was captured. Prince Aegon has just landed here In Dragonstone with his young dragon, but the Prince Viserys was left behind."

[narcissistshandler]

giving miguel head while he explains complicated concepts of the multiverse. 😳 at first he chuckles when reader requests this, but he starts to struggle and lose track of what he was talking about. his voice becomes more desperate as he tries to explain all this stuff he knows to reader with his talons gripping at his love’s skull and his voice shaking and melting into pretty breathy moans until he can’t think of what he was talking about and instead fucks reader’s throat til he’s an overstimulated, sobbing mess

𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn!reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 blowjob (reader giving), deep throat, slight overstimulation at the end, reader has no gender or genitalia mentioned, a little of blood

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This was in my drafts for two weeks and honestly I don't remember what/how I wrote half of it, but still, this request was delicious

"—Are you listening to me?"

You blinked, seeming to come back to reality and looked into Miguel's judgmental brown eyes.

"I've been speaking Spanish for the last ten minutes," he continued before you had time to speak.

"I am," you insisted. Your first instinct was to lie. The truth was no, you weren't paying the slightest attention to any of all that complicated science and physics coming out of Miguel's mouth, even though from the beginning your focus hadn't left his lips framing every complex and long word, occasionally rising to appreciate that expression of concentration on his usually serious face that shouldn't be so erotic to anyone but you.

Miguel's eyes fell to your lap, as if he could see through the pillow you were holding, his brow immediately frowning in that way that indicated his bad mood.

"So what is the simple concept of what constitutes a Multiverse?" he questioned, sounding so much like a hot, strict teacher that you felt your sex throb in response, too distracted to even try to think of an answer. "What are the ways to overcome the barriers that separate our world from other universes?" Silence. "What happens when there is a divergence in events? Where does the variety of these universes originate?"

You knew the answer to some of these questions as someone who had heard more than enough about this subject: the multiverse was nothing more than the aggregate of parallel realities and bla bla bla. But that wasn't what Miguel wanted to hear, he wanted concise, long and scientifically coherent answers and that's why you preferred to keep your mouth shut.

"You weren't listening," he concluded with a sigh.

"Keep talking, I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel looked into your darkened eyes, noting the warm innuendo in your tone and then once again, his attention fell to the pillow that covered your lap. "You're excited," he observed, then continued seeming disgusted and irritated: "Why? Physics does that to you?"

“You do this to me,” you said. Miguel's expression seemed to become even darker. "You always seem so focused and intelligent while talking about these things I can't understand, it's sexy."

"You were the one who asked me to teach you, I didn't know this was a fantasy of yours," he pointed out.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you asked soflty as you got up from the sofa where you sat next to Miguel and fell to your knees in front of his feet, your hands running up his bare legs until they slid under the hem of his shorts. "Continue teaching me, please? I promise I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel half growled at you, not seeming too willing to indulge in your fantasies even as his legs opened in pure muscle memory to give you room to fit between them and desire flashed in his eyes.

"How are you supposed to pay attention to what I say with my penis in your mouth? That doesn't seem like a very believable teaching method." Even with you kneeling in front of him on the floor of the apartment's living room, Miguel seemed genuinely concerned about teaching you some real knowledge about multiverse.

You rubbed your hand against the bulge in his shorts to bring him to hardness, laughing a little at how genuine Miguel was sometimes.

"You talk, I listen, then you can test me to see if I really learned something or not."

Miguel opened his mouth, looking ready to retort with some argument, but your fingers fitting into the elastic waistband of his shorts was enough to make him swallow back his words. “Okay,” he agreed finally, lifting his hips off the couch to let you pull his shorts down his legs and discard them on the floor.

"Without underwear?" You inquired teasingly, your fingers closing around Miguel's thick cock that was slowly getting hard for you and pulling him into slow, steady thrusts.

Miguel sighed at the sudden touch, a light blush coloring his cheeks at the teasing.

"Back to the beginning," he started to say, ignoring your words. "When we talk about the Multiverse, this refers to a conception of multiple universes or parallel realities existing simultaneously. Together, these universes are presumed to comprise everything that exists: the entirety of space, time, matter, energy..."

Your tongue trailed in a wet line from the base to the head, interrupting Miguel's speech as he trailed off with a soft sigh.

That usual satisfaction made you smile between the licks you dragged along his length, feeling the pulsation of the bulging veins against your tongue, your fingers keeping his dick firm at the base. Your lips parted, gently sucking the side of the bulbous, red head where drops of precum were beginning to leak.

Miguel let out the most beautiful moan, one of his hands falling into your hair.

“Oh,” he sighed softly, voice already falling into that deep tone that always did things to you. You looked up at the same time you slid your tongue over the slit leaking from his cock; Miguel's eyes met yours, warm and shining. He took a deep breath and continued speaking: "In the concept of multiverse, a scheme is imagined in which... all universes aggregate each other across an infinite vastness..."

He looked so composed even with your mouth on his dick and you wanted to break that composure of his until it became nothing, until his mind stopped working and the only coherent thought he had left was fucking your throat.

Miguel doesn't stop talking when your fingers tighten around his length in a grip that borders on painful and your mouth opens so you can take his length. His cock filled your mouth, the warm, smooth skin sliding over your tongue and inward in a delicious, welcome weight that made your skin tingle. Almost instinctively, you searched for more, leaning forward and taking him deeper, your free hand feeling Miguel's thigh muscles tense under your touch.

Saliva pooled in your mouth and as soon as you pulled your head back, spit slid down his length to his heavy balls and a wet line ran down your chin, a mess you knew Miguel liked. As expected, his breathing stuttered and you saw him losing his train of thought at the sight of your saliva-glossy lips stretching around the thickness of his dick.

"...In addition to the state superpos- superposition property, there are many other phenomena that occur as quantum-scale systems, such as quantum tunneling, quantum e-entanglement..."

The firm fingers tangled in the strands of your hair suddenly became sharper, like thick needles scratching your scalp. The threat of the grab hung in the air, filling your stomach with a tense heat as you realized they were Miguel's deadly talons, which could penetrate through the fragility of your skin in seconds and even an accidental scratch could draw blood. This realization shook you to the core and a moan rose in your throat.

"... So you can connect gravity and the other three forces in an apparently firm way?" he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Dios mío."

It took you a few seconds to understand the jumbled words that came out of his mouth, but when you did you knew that you had achieved your objective, as the argument didn't seem to fit into any part of the multiverse theory.

Tears blocked the corners of your vision, jaw opening wider to take Miguel's cock deeper, the tip slapping against your cheek and tongue before going deeper, and then more and more. The salty taste of precum, sweat, and something else you could only describe as Miguel's taste rising in the back of your throat, clouding all your senses and pushing away the urgency burning between your legs. All that mattered was Miguel.

At that moment, your entire world was just Miguel's body contracting on the couch under the heat of your mouth, the heavy leg he had thrown over your shoulder and his heel digging into your shoulder blade in an attempt to bring you impossibly closer. There was a distinct feeling of discomfort growing in your body, Miguel's grip was strong and painful, his rationality seemed to have dissolved under the pleasure.

"[n-name] [name] [name] [name], por favor." The beautiful moans of your name in his voice echoed through the room in repeated, stammered repetitions.

The gag reflex kicked in, the bulbous head of Miguel's cock pressing past the tightness of your throat. Your eyes closed in an attempt to fight the immediate instinct to choke and suffocate, the desire to give Miguel everything he wanted was stronger. You willingly obeyed the grip of the talons on your head keeping you still, your mouth falling open and easy for the deep thrusts.

Resisting him, the urgency with which his hips undulated, as if he needed the pleasure to breathe, felt equal to having at least one pulled muscle and a deep cut left behind.

Fortunately, fighting him was far from your intention.

You could feel as his dick twitched inside your mouth and the thick, salty liquid filled your throat, which rose and fell as you swallowed. Your eyes opened, tears running down your cheeks, you closed your lips around Miguel's pulsing length, sucking. Miguel's reaction was lascivious, his thrusts becoming erratic, whole body shaking violently, his talons sinking at least a few centimeters into your skin, until it breaks under the pressure.

Hot liquid ran down the back of your neck, the pain was a distant thing in your warm body, your fingers digging into the soft skin of Miguel's thighs as you pressed the nose against the curly hair of his groin. Miguel whimpered as his cock continued to spurt small jets deep down your throat, tears glistening in his eyes and fangs sinking into the lower lip.

You had lied again, you hadn't paid attention to anything he said, but it didn't matter since you doubted that Miguel remembered what even was a subatomic particle now.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Hey bestie any zutara fic recs. I feel like I’ve read all the classics.

Hello anon! Oh boy have you come to the right place because I have read several million words of these two dorks falling in love and though I plan to read several million more, I am always down to screech about talented fanfic writers!!! Here are most of my faves, some of which you’ve probably read but my enthusiasm simply needs an outlet. No WIPs to minimize heartbreak.

In the spirit of not recommending too many classics, I’m not including anything from the first page of the Katara/Zuko tag on AO3 sorted by kudos, with one exception. Same rule does not apply to FF.net because nobody visits that site anymore, yet we mustn’t forget our roots!!! 

TL;DR of my Zutara Fic Recs: 

Half Asleep for a Miyazaki-esque adventure romance 

Southern Lights for a sweeping epic where A Song of Ice and Fire meets Middlemarch

Refraction for a swoon-worthy post-war political romance ft. Katara learning how to politick in a patriarchal world 

Stormbenders for a fun undercover romance that is a ZK classic for a very good reason 

Another Word for Alchemy and The Slow Path for hilarious yet emotionally compelling adventures with found family themes 

The Undying Fire for world-building, more Gaang shenanigans, and super satisfying slow canon divergence 

Katara Alone for our fave girl’s post-war Bildungsroman/travelogue/heroic tour

Simple Misunderstanding for a hilarious rendition of Ponytail Zuko capturing Katara and trying to not be a creep

Clothe Me in Seasons, Dress Me in Snow for a mostly canon-compliant (so, v angsty) story about the different ways that love can evolve 

And some one-shots and modern AUs I feel like deserve some more love 

Summaries, reviews, and general fangirling under the cut because holy shit this post is long lmao 

Long fics / series: 

Half Asleep, by crushinator | Rating: T | Word Count: 82,335

Summary: Five years after the Hundred-Year War, Fire Lord Zuko is hit with an assassin's dart, and falls into a coma from which he cannot wake. A week passes, and his prognosis is grim. But Katara could swear she hears him in her dreams.

My thoughts: this fic, in many ways, is novel quality. The pacing? Immaculate. The action scenes? Exciting and interesting yet super easy to visualize. The characterization? On point. Katara is peak Miyazaki heroine in this, setting out on a quest to the Spirit World to save her boy (who’s not really her boy) from whichever Eldritch horror has him in its clutches. I love the little glimpses we have of the mutual pining between Katara and Zuko, and there are no words to describe how much I love the resolution of Katara and Aang’s relationship in this story. And oh boy, is the climax of the fic super romantic. This is just a really well written, emotionally compelling, tight fic. Deserves to be a fandom classic. 

Southern Lights, by colourwhirled | Rating: M | Word Count: 769,274

Summary: A world where the Avatar has disappeared from memory. Where Sozin’s Conquest was successful. Where the unsteady order of the empire is threatened as members of the royal family are picked off one by one and lines are slowly drawn in the sand One last chance for peace forces an unlikely alliance between a homesick waterbender, a carefree Air Nomad, a runaway Earth Kingdom heiress, and the fire lord's inscrutable son. Together they must learn to shed old enmities and become the balance they seek to restore to the world.

OR:

The avatar has four heads.

My thoughts: Is it a Bildungsroman? Is it a war story? Is it a politics story? Is it a love story? Is it a friendship story? Is it a story about colonial violence and well-meaning complicity and finding justice in a world where it simply doesn’t seem to exist? Yes to all of the above, because at 700k+ words YOU CAN HAVE IT ALL. You know how Virginia Woolf once said that Middlemarch is one of the few novels written for grownups? Well, Southern Lights feels adult, not because of violence or sex or general grimness (looking at you, HBO), but because it’s fundamentally about having the courage to make choices, live with the consequences, and make more choices, and repeat that over and over again. If Katara is a Miyazaki heroine in Half Asleep, she is full on Daenarys (pre-character assassination) in Southern Lights, a heroine who gets put through her paces yet retains her unwavering resilience to find her place in the world. Katara can be pretty frustrating in this and I know a lot of the commenters on this fic wanted to smack her up the head halfway through, but I support women’s rights and women’s wrongs and her decisions make sense to me even when I also want to smack her for them, and isn’t that a symptom of good writing? I count my lucky stars that I joined the ATLA fandom after this fic is finished (which was only last year!) because I got to binge it in a few days and I have not been the same person since. Deserves classic status. 

Refraction, by caroe3725 | Rating: E | Word Count: 215,249

Summary: Making choices after the war was supposed to be the easy part. Her future decided and neatly packaged based on what everyone else wanted for her, what she should want, too. But Katara’s destiny had a funny way of being exactly what she wanted to run from. (As if anyone needed another Zutara post-finale slow burn after 15 years.)

My thoughts: YES WE DEFINITELY NEEDED ANOTHER POST-WAR ZK SLOWBURN OF SUCH IMMACULATE QUALITY. Both Katara and Zuko’s internal monologues are excellent in this, but I particularly love Zuko’s. The writer is so good at capturing his resolve, his earnestness, and his awkwardness. This is a very restrained fic — no great histrionics — but also incredibly romantic. The first kiss scene made me want to both sigh and screech. I’m also just a huge sucker for “Katara learns politics” which this fic has in spades, with a bonus of very thoughtful gender dynamics. Anyway, if you liked AJ Lenoire’s The Summit or andromeda13’s such selfish prayers, you’d probably like Refraction. Zuko and Katara are very much dumb teens in the beginning portions of this fic, which I personally like because it makes me nostalgic. Oh, and Katara is low key chaotic good in this, which is super in-character and hilarious.

Stormbenders, by Fandomme | Rating: T | Word Count: 171,000+ 

Summary: S3 AU from FBM. Deep in the Fire Nation jungle, the Gaang meets a group of rogue water ninja who send Zuko and Katara on a mission to retrieve Ozai's secret battle plans.

My thoughts: I’m aware that if you asked the average ZK shipper ten years ago what the ship classics are, the answers are probably Stormbenders, His Majesty Prefers Blue, and the Sparrowkeet series. The other classics are good (classics for a reason!), but Stormbenders remains my favourite. It’s funny. It’s exciting. It’s WELL PACED. The ZK relationship grows so organically, which is a huge feat considering this fic was started before we even got The Southern Raiders. The events are a little more adult than the show, but the tone remains very ATLA. There’s a lovely little animatic of the beginning of the scene on YouTube to show you exactly what I mean about the tone and the humour. I am always weak for a well-structured adventure romance, and Stormbenders stands the test of time because it’s just such a well-written fic. 

The Undying Fire, by Boogum | Rating: T | Word Count: 534,665

Summary: "He has the eyes, Princess Ursa." They were half-forgotten words, a whisper of fears never explained. Zuko had dismissed it all as nothing to worry about—until he somehow healed the Avatar. Fire healers weren't meant to exist, except he did. He'd saved the kid's life. Naturally, he wanted answers. Too bad finding them wasn't so simple...

My thoughts: This fic is mostly Gen, and Zutara shows up in the latter half of the series. Despite being a ZK shipper I like plenty of Gen fics too, and The Undying Fire gives me the best of both worlds. I love the world building, the humour, and the slow ramp up of the Gaang friendships. I absolutely love how the canon divergence is so subtle at first and gradually unfurls into something super different, yet retains much of its ATLA charm. Boogum’s written some other bangers too, and I have to give honorable mention to Zuko’s Tiny Dilemma (where a spirit transforms ponytail Zuko into his six-year-old self, and Uncle into a teapot, and somehow it becomes an emotionally compelling 100k word saga) and Following Blue (season 2 canon divergent Bluetara with a bigger focus on romance). 

Katara Alone & associated fics by cablesscutie | Rating: T | Word Count: 86,890

Summary: The war is over, and with it goes the only life she has ever known. In this era of love and peace, the world is becoming new, and Katara is unsure of her place in it. That's okay though. Katara has rebuilt her life from scratch before, and she will do it again.

My thoughts: I love post-war “Katara sets out to find herself and also finds Zuko” fics. Katara Alone is a fabulous coming-of-age story with some good old fashioned letter flirting during Katara’s solo travels. The sequel, Lady of the Tides, has some very thoughtful depictions of Katara’s place within the post-war Fire Nation, and the accompanying story from Zuko’s POV, The Fire Lord at Home, hits all my buttons. Like…Zuko is Fire Lord Good Boy! He passes legislation! There is political optimism! Swoon. 

Another Word for Alchemy, by FanPanda 13 | Rating: T | Word Count: 108,000+ 

Summary: Five years have passed since the Avatar defeated Fire Lord Ozai, and the members of the Gaang have all gone in their own direction. But when Aang invites them all to a Peace Summit at the North Pole and tells them of his new project, for which he will need their support, the group comes together again for adventure, fun and romance. AU. Zutara. COMPLETE.

My thoughts: Now this is a fic that thoroughly crept up on me. The first 3/4 is good old fashioned fluffy, funny, fourth wall-breaking Gaang shenanigans with plenty of Zutara. But the last quarter? Oh boy does it come right at you and slam you in the solar plexus with the platonic love and found family feels and the complexities of those feelings when you’re a teenager. The impact of Aang’s loss of the Air Nomads is treated very thoughtfully here, way more so than in the show. 

The Slow Path, by TazmainianDevil | Rating: T | Word Count: 125,723 

Summary: Eight years after the fall of Ozai, Aang returns to the friends he left behind.

My thoughts: This is actually a Taang story with a great ZK subplot. But what I love about it is that the whole Gaang (including Suki ALWAYS INCLUDING SUKI) is superbly characterized. The ZK banter is top notch. I could actually hear their voices in my head in some of the scenes. Their relationship is playful but has plenty of emotional heft. And the plot is exciting and well-developed. My favourite thing, though, is how the author treats Toph’s POV: it’s very thoughtfully written, with consideration towards how she perceives the world.

Simple Misunderstanding, by ShamelessLiar | Rating: T | Word Count: 80,965 

Summary: Katara was captured by Zuko, but there was a lapse in communication. Takes place after The Fortuneteller. Fierce Katara, honorable Zuko, and meddlesome Iroh. Also, music night

My thoughts: Generally I don’t love fics where Katara gets captured, especially by Zuko (just a personal preference, not here to judge). But! I love this one, because…well, the circumstances of Katara’s capture by Ponytail Zuko are simply hilarious. Katara is suspicious and stubborn; Zuko has a one-track mind and doesn’t understand why Iroh is treating his prisoner so nicely; oh, and Aang gets into an amazing side quest with some spiritual animals. The only thing about this story is that it ends a little abruptly since the author was considering a sequel, but it still reads as a standalone fic. The author also wrote His Majesty Prefers Blue and Call Me Katto, two ZK classics, but Simple Misunderstanding is far and away my favourite work. 

Clothe Me in Seasons, Dress Me in Snow, by sadladybug | Rating: T | Word Count: 62,026

Summary: It is not the memorial she deserves, nor the one she would want. But it can't be helped. He owns no property in the other nations, and he needed to keep her close. Closer than she was in life, anyway. Zuko's reflections on a life lived and a life that could have been.

Review: sadladybug lives up to the username by creating a sadness so contagious that I have yet to recover from it, and I cope by recommending this fic to other Zutara shippers so that more may suffer like I did. (Stop the cycle? No.) Look — I think there’s something extremely beautiful and poetic about a love that changes in nature and form and expression, but not in intensity and devotion, and that’s what this fic is about. Loved it. Never reading it again. 

One shots: 

There’s a category of canon-compliant Zutara one-shots that are all extremely painful, and I cannot get enough of them: in the next life by we-were-angels, taking place right before Katara’s wedding to Aang; water can heal, water can break by crazyache, about why Katara didn’t attend Yakone’s trial. 

To combat the above, here’s a few funny, fluffy ones that make me cackle: i am older now by ama (who wrote the banger that is The Blackfish and the Dragon), an old!ZK fic that I read to counteract the emotional damage inflicted by psychedelic_aya’s we hold our hearts in silence; all good things start with tea by yodalorian, where Zuko’s hapless Disney sidekick-esque advisors try to get him a wife; And Half at One Another’s Throats by songofhopeandhonor (whose account is deleted), about Zuko’s harebrained proposals to Katara; The Dragon of the West’s Guide to Flirting by bluesunflower44, which is exactly what it says on the tin and the awkward disaster you’d expect. Waiting on a Steady Sun, by nire, is a long version of my favourite tropes: fake marriage + idiots to lovers ft. pining for your spouse. 

I generally don’t love modern AUs, but akaiiko’s talk is cheap (and i’ve got expensive taste), where Katara meets Zuko at a frat party, is a whole damn delight; my old aches become new again by jamesstruttingpotter is a wonderfully indulgent modern AU based on Our Beloved Summer. 

And finally, some season 3 character studies: don’t tell me how to feel by paintingcranes, ft Katara at the Western Air Temple being increasingly incensed at both Zuko trying to be helpful and how other people react to his helpfulness; the other side of mercy by crazyache, where Sokka calls Katara “high-strung and crazy” and that really makes Zuko think; The Silent Garden by romilley (whose WIP The Horizon is also fabulous), where Katara and Zuko avoid their feelings through a reluctant-allies-with-benefits arrangement (ft a way of depicting intimacy and sex that makes me think of Normal People); a deep delight of the blood by eruthros, where Zuko asks Katara to practice bloodbending on him out of pragmatism but also a little bit of guilt (it’s unrated, but that “Kink Without Sex” tag is there for a reason). 

Thank you for asking me for my recs, anon, because I needed an outlet to rave about fanfiction and my irl friends have heard enough. Feel free to ask me questions about specific fics that aren’t on this list: I always love talking to people about fic and I’m always looking for new ones to read!

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

i don’t know, you figure it out

Plot Holes

biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!

She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69

Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH 

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments.  I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)

What is your writing process like?

Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go!   For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:

This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.  

Do you have any writing quirks?

I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD.   I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.

Which fic are you most proud of?

‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂

How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?

“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.”  And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.

When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?

How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis! (I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)

What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?

@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.  

What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?

This exchange: Steve: “What? I’m just asking!” Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!” Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Like it’s just so them lmao

How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?

You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life? Basically that.

What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?

Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes. 

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it: Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.” It’s me; I’m Critics.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it. 

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3 Secondly: - Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. - Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet.  - Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.) - Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour. - Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce. - Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies) okay thank you love you byeeeee

Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[anonymous-dentist]

I’ve been a little sick and out of it today but I really am very very happy about all the comments the first chapter of KMYA got :)

I wrote Bad Romance for a former friend of mine, who I don’t believe didn’t even read the last chapter for some reason or another. That, combined with a Lot of people hating the last chapter and those same people going around telling people just not to read the fic at all because of the ending, kinda really bummed me out and made me basically abandon my plans for the sequel I wanted to write. I told you guys I’d do it at 2k kudos, but that wasn’t going to happen

And then last week I decided on a whim to try the sequel and see if anybody would actually read it

And you did!!

And now I’m really really excited about it!!

This universe/au is my baby. It’s the first au I ever actually came up with (Breaking Dawn isn’t set in my au, remember?), and it was the first Spiderbit oneshot I ever posted (Red) and the first multi chapter I did outside of BD (Bad Romance.) I have so many ideas for canon divergence and character exploration and now I finally feel like I can share them! (Like… Felps doesn’t really get kidnapped. And there isn’t really a chainsaw torture hallway, not the one we know.)

As long as I know people are reading, I’ll keep writing KMYA!! I know a lot of people were hoping for a sequel, and I’m glad to give it to you guys at long last

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

"In the night, I am real..." // [Part I]

Pairing | Alpha x reader

Word count | 1.8k

Warnings | Ghouls sent back to the Pit, ritual gone wrong, rite here rite now spoilers, canon divergence, f!reader - no y/n

Chapter Summary: You decide to see if the "silly book" you found is more than it seems. Heartbroken, you follow the ancient book's instructions to perform a ritual, hoping to bring Alpha back on your own. However things don't quite go according to plan.

A/N: The biggest S/O to @sister-nyx for giving me the confidence to post this, for proofreading and for all your help along the way 🖤 This is my very first Ghost/ghoul fic! I'm new to writing, but I had this idea and had to roll with it. One chapter will be released every day at 10am EST.

I hope you enjoy!!

[Next]

To any other member of the Ministry, today was just a normal Tuesday. Nothing grand or exciting was happening. No special visitors, no spontaneous events. Even the members of the band got the day off from practice on Tuesdays. Copia had a well known dislike for this particular day of the week, ‘Why can’t every day be Friday? I like Friday’s much better, don’t you?’ he always said. 

It was just quiet. Simply, quiet. The midday sun was peeking through the break in the clouds that donned the blue, late summer sky. The rays shining down on the Ministry, engulfing the structure and its grounds like a warm hug. The sisters were excitedly finishing up with their daily chores before making their way outside to enjoy the shortened workday, and the nice summer breeze. Even some of the Ghouls and Ghoulettes left the den to partake in their shenanigans outside instead. The Sisters were so delighted when Copia introduced this new schedule. While it may seem a bit unconventional, this was anything but a conventional convent.

For one Sibling however, it was just a normal Tuesday. You quietly finished up your chores in the library, returning borrowed books of all sorts back to their correct shelves. Making your way through the towering bookcases as you expertly place books titled, ‘How to Care for Worms’ and ‘Maintaining Nutrient Rich Soils’ back into their rightful place as part of the gardening section. Normally the Sisters in the gardening club take care of the grounds. However these books in particular, you knew, had a different audience. 

“Swiss must’ve finally asked Mountain if he would still love him as a worm. Oh Swiss, you’re in great hands. Don’t you worry,” softly chuckling to yourself.

You made your way around the large library. Putting away books about the ‘Pop Music Explosion of the 2000s’ (that was probably Copia), ‘Majestic Rivers of the World’ (you wondered if Rain is feeling okay with all this sunny weather), and ‘Silly Sentences: Handwriting Workbook’ (now you knew where Phantom came up with all those random words).

You paused once you reached the last book in the pile. This book was a very strange one indeed. 

You didn’t seem to remember ever seeing this one before. It was quite large and heavy. The cover was expertly bound in black leather, adorned with once bright gold symbols. You estimated it to have been at least 100 years old. There was a large latch on the side with a hole, showcasing where a lock would have been. 

“What harm ever came from reading a book?” 

Ultimately curious, you flipped back the latch and opened it. You didn’t know what you were expecting, a large spooky gust of wind perhaps? Unfortunately nothing of the sort happened. As you flipped back the front cover, the pages inside looked like metal the way they reflected the sunlight that shone through the large stained glass windows. It was almost like they were coated in gold. Yet they were quite worn and tarnished on the edges, proudly showcasing where the previous owners had often flipped through its pages. In their prime, you thought, this would have been beautiful.

The ancient Latin that covered the glistening pages was not printed like most books of the modern age, but written by hand. There must have been over 1000 pages, all meticulously created by some unknown author. As you flipped through, you found every single page covered in a seemingly everlasting black ink that had not begun to fade in the slightest. 

Let it be said that you were not overly fond of your Ancient Latin classes. Often opting to ignore the day's teachings, doodling in your workbook instead. You grabbed the strange book from the cart and sat along the back wall of the empty library, slowly deciphering what the author wanted to so desperately preserve.

After about 3.5 hours of (quite roughly) translating a whopping 4 pages of text, you concluded that this book was at its core, about death. More accurately, it spoke about the process of bringing people back.

That night as you laid in bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you read in that strange book. You wondered if it was something that Swiss ordered. Using the incantations to scare Phantom by pretending to summon the Hat Man. Or if the tellings in it really were true. Was it actually possible to bring people back from the dead?

For many years now, you have been a bit lost. You put on a strong front for the Clergy and forced convincing smiles, but anyone who knew you, knew you just weren't the same as when you first arrived at the Ministry. 

You used to jump at the chance to help Alpha and Omega with cleaning up the practice room after rehearsal. Or running to get guitar strings when they broke. You would help Zephyr with his back pain, and even sometimes help Earth practice his eye makeup. When Terzo took over shortly after you got settled, he helped you cope and understand your parental trauma. He became like a father to you. No one knew what was coming though. No one except for Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator. 

It was a shock for everyone when they all disappeared. But for you, it was like your entire world collapsed. The Ghouls that helped you have fun, the Papa that proved to you that you wouldn’t have to be scared anymore - all gone. It was devastating.

It took about 3 months before you would allow anyone to speak with you outside of the Siblings you worked with. Copia was always so nice, you felt guilty for purposely avoiding him. The two of you had some pretty good times during his previous role as a Cardinal. You just couldn’t stand to call anyone else Papa, that was reserved for Terzo.

When the new band first started rehearsing in the practice room, you happened to be walking by. Hearing the iconic riffs and melodies, you excitedly skipped towards the door, looking through the window. Only to find absolutely no one you recognized. All these Ghouls were new.

You didn’t know whether to be sad or angry. This was Terzo’s space. This was Alpha and Omega’s space. What you didn’t notice, as you walked away in tears, was that there were still a few of your Ghouls left. Aether and Dewdrop were still here. While you never really hung out with Dewdrop all that much, you ran into Aether in the infirmary a couple weeks later, and everything just boiled to the surface.

“Hi.” Aether said softly, with a sympathetic smile. “Copia noticed you weren’t doing so great, so he asked me to check in on you. He thought a familiar face might be easier.”

All you could do was just stand there and stare at the Ghoul, expressionless and in silence.

“I’m really sorr–”

“Why are you here?” You spoke in an audible whisper.

Aether blinked and stood there, stunned. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here?” You spoke, with a bit more conviction.

I don’t think either of you expected such hostility. Aether thought it would be best if he talked to you instead of one of the new Ghouls. It was actually his idea. He knew you were hurting, and you had been hurting for a long time. He just wanted to help - but what did he miss?

Aether started second guessing whether getting Rain or Mountain to chat with you would’ve actually been a better course of action. He gazed down at you, at his friend who looked at him like he was the sole reason a part of you died that day.

You were shocked at yourself. Shocked at the pure anger you were expressing towards him. You didn’t really understand where it was coming from, but it was taking over every logical thought you had in that moment. Apart from just now, you thought Aether had been sent back to the pit with everyone else. You thought that you lost him too, but here he is. Standing in front of you after all this time.

“I don’t understand,” Aether pleaded softly.

“Why are you here?” 

And then the floodgates opened.

“I mean, why is it you that’s still here? What made you sooo special that Copia decided to keep you? I thought you were DEAD, Aether. I thought I had no one left. That Sister and Nihil wiped the slate clean for her new prize pony, Copia, and his new Ghoul entourage. I’ve been suffering by myself for months!”

The tears started to well up in your eyes as you composed yourself and continued. 

“I actually walked by the practice room the other day. I heard the songs they used to play and I thought, ‘they’re back!’. But when I looked through that window, all I saw was a bunch of Ghouls pretending to be you. Pretending to be him.”

Aether knew you had a close connection with Terzo, and seeing Copia in his place must have been really hard for you. When he first stepped in to replace Omega, he could feel how sad you were about the change. But it was different then.

When Aether and Ifrit stepped in, it wasn’t like Alpha and Omega just vanished. They were still around to help the new Ghouls learn the songs, and give tips on stage presence (although Ifrit quickly navigated that aspect of the job). The two Ghouls were just taking a break from touring for a little while. It was physically and mentally demanding, and they weren’t the youngest kits on the block by any means.

However Aether knew that Terzo wasn’t who you were referring to.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spoke. “I really am. I’m sorry that it’s me and not Alpha who got to stay.”

The Ghoul knew better than to say any more after that. He was often at the receiving end of your late night chats. You would come by to tell him about how you thought Alpha was ignoring you because he hated you. When in reality, the poor fire Ghoul was just scared of this new emotion he was experiencing called ‘caring’.

A mention of his name was all it took before you sank to your knees and wept, while Aether just stood there and watched. Not out of indifference, but out of sympathy. He knew you had bottled this up for so long, pretended like everything was fine. He was simply allowing you to release the pressure that was eating at you from the inside out.

Aether slowly walked the few steps over to where you knelt on the ground. Sitting beside you, he ran a cautious hand down your back.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “Aether, I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m still going to be here for you, even if you hate me.”

[Next]

[melanieph321]

Pedri x Black Reader - Our Secret Part 2/10

Part 3 will be Pedri's POV which I'm really excited about! 😊

The story of Marcella and Pedri. As students of the most prestigious high schools in the country, the two are very focused on developimg their indvidual talents. Marcella has music whilst Pedri has football. However, worlds collide when Pedri's secret is revealed, he has diabetes.

Enjoy!

Of course Marcella had friends. However,  they were also her biggest rivals, and right now they were winning.

"Thank you Marcella, that's enough." To her friends amusement, Señor Garcia stopped playing the piano, cutting her singing short.

"Is there something wrong, señor?"

"Yes, Marcella. I specifically asked you to perform an original song. This was not it, meaning you've failed this week's assignment."

"But señor...."

Her friends, Beatrice and Olga, giggled behind her back. All three of them were meant to perform this week's assignment in front of their teacher. Marcella however, was the only one to fail.

"I'll be forced to fail you unless you can present an original piece by the end of this week."

"Right" She nodded. With that she was free to leave the auditorium, expected to get back to work on her musical piece whilst Señor Garcia helped Beatrice and Olga perfect theirs.

"...by the end of this week." Marcella said, taunting the voice that was Señor Garcia's. Of course she knew what the week's assignment had been, however, her song wasn't finished yet.

"How am I supposed to finish writing a song that I can't relate to?" She asked no one.

"Lie." Someone yawned.

Marcella screamed.

She had left the auditorium only to return to the abandoned classroom next door, where Señor Garcia stocked all the instruments. There were no lights, except for the string of it shining through a small basment window. She was sitting behind the piano when there was movment on the old sofa in the corner of the room.

"Aghh, please. Can't you see that I'm trying to sleep?"

"Pedri?"

He sat up, letting his cupped hands drop from his ears. He looked fresh from a nap, wearing a black sweater, his dark hair tousled up underneath the hood.

"Mierda, you scared me!" Marcella tried recollecting her exhilarated breath. "What are you doing in here?" The room belonged to the music program and the music program only. The school prioritized football above all other curriculums, with their own private lounges and newly renovated locker rooms. Couldn't Pedri Gonzalez have found a better place to sleep over there?

"The door was open." He shrugged and rubbed his tired eyes before pushing off with his arm to sit up straight. "Let's hear it then."

"Hear what?"

"This unfinished song of yours."

"What?"

"The one that Señor wants you to finish by the end of the week."

"How did you..."

"Thin walls." He smirked.

"Still, you came here to take a nap? In the room right next to the music auditorium."

"Like I said, the door was open."

Marcella stayed put behind the piano, a skeptical look on her face as Pedri made the effort to stand. He was sort of slow in his movements, supporting himself against a wall, like an old man with an aching body.

"Got any snacks?" He asked, walking over to the piano, cranking his neck and snapping his knuckles.

"No." Marcella muttered.

He plotted down beside her. Without invitation, she might add.

"A shame."

"What is?" She turned to look at him, heart fluttering when he smiled at her.

"The fact that you don't have any snacks."

Heat rose to her face, but Marcella was quick to diverge her attention back to the sheet music in front of her. Grabbing them, she said, "If you don't mind. I have a song to write."

"I don't mind." Pedri sat back as if not to disturb.

Marcella turned back to him with a frown on her face. "I meant like, can you leave?"

The line between his eyebrows wrinkled a little. It left Marcella feelig guilty. "I just really need to finish this assignment." She mumbled, in all honesty. Writing a song wasn't easy to begin with, rewriting one also took time. Time that she didn't have.

"Play it for me."

"W..what?"

Pedri said so with such grace. "Play the song for me, perhaps it's not that bad? Maybe it's just señor Garcia who has mistake his wives underwear for his own?"

Marcella chuckled with uncertainty. "What does that mean?"

Pedri mimicked her expression, smiling as he leaned towards her. He whispered, "It means he's up tight....in the ass."

She shook her head, regretting having fueld his ego by laughing at such a cheap joke.

"Now you haven't got all day Marcella. Are you gonna play me the song or not?"

She was hesitant, but only because the way Pedri said her name threw her off. Pressing down on the piano keys, she regained some composure. Marcella didn't look to him, avoiding eye contact at all cost. However, she could see out of the corner of her eye that Pedri observed her causiosully, not saying a word until she'd finished playing.

"Aren't you supposed to sing to it?" His eye traveled to the sheet music where there was lyrics written underneath every measure.

"Like I said, it's not finished." Marcella let her hands rest on her knees.

"No? What's missing?" He suprised her that the conversation between the two was still ongoing, with Pedri sounding genuinely interested.

"Well first of all, I lost about three sheets in the parking lot the other day." And she had plans to make Gavi pay for that. "And overall I don't like the instructions for this assignment."

"Which are."

"Well..." She cleared her throat. "Señor Garcia wants it to be a love song."

"I see." Pedri nodded.

"You do?"

"Sure. You're obviously struggling to write about something you've never experienced before."

"I've obviously felt loved." Marcella corrected, a bit taken aback that he could pin point her struggles so accurately. "I mean my parents love me and my dog..."

"Yes, but that wasn't the assignment, was it?"

Marcella frowned. "What do you know anyway?"

"Like I said, the walls are thin and it's not the first time I've taken a nap in here. I've been hearing señor Garcia go off on you guys for the past few weeks now."

"I know." She groaned. "His ass is really uptight"

Pedri's eyes widened, along with his face that transformed with his bubbly laughter.

"What?" She blushed. "You said it first, not I."

"I know." He laughed. "But it's sounded way better coming out of your mouth." He stared at it, her mouth. And for a second all time stood still. However, Pedri was the first one to break eye contact. "So let's take a look at the lyrics then."

She snorted "What do you know about writing lyrics?"

"I know I'd never rhyme, time, with crime or crazy with lazy, when I'm trying to write a heartfelt love song. And why are you singing in English anyway?" To her suprise, he really looked genuinely displeased, forcing Marcella to come up with a logical answer. "Well I sound better singing in English."

"Bullshit."

Her eyes widened.

"You sang the national anthem in Español, no?"

"Yes, and?"

"And..." His voice lost volume.

"Sorry, what was that?"

He mumbled something under his breath.

"I'm sorry Pedri, I can't really..."

"I said..." He groand, "You sounded beautiful....singing in Spanish."

And for the second time all space and time seized to function. Marcella didn't know what was happening or what it meant, but it made her uncertain of herself in the presence of Pedri. He was tampering with her emotions somehow, making her feel things that she didn't want to feel.

[falcqns]

you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now) chapter four

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lucy Chen & Tamara Colins, Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, background Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lucy goes on her first date since taking in Tamara. Tim nearly loses his mind when she doesn’t show up for her first scheduled shift back on time.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon divergence, (eventually) autistic!Tamara, Tim Bradford would do anything for Lucy Chen, Lucy is a hardcore swiftie, Day Of Death (im so sorry) near death experience, kidnapping, hospitals, being buried alive, Caleb Wright, mentions of Rosalind Dyer, yknow the usual DOD warnings, 

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

A/n: im so sorry for this I hate this episode so much, but it is important to Lucy’s character development and who she is as a person and a cop and I don’t want to change that so we’re going to have to suffer through DOD together. I won’t be going into detail about Lucy’s POV, so I will be doing the majority of this chapter from Tim’s perspective. There’s a bit of a time jump (4 weeks) but not much has changed in Lucy and Tamara’s world. 

Tim yawned as he adjusted his badge as he walked out of the locker room. He glanced at Nolan and West standing by the door to Grey’s office, talking to him with concerned looks on their faces. Tim thought it was weird, but then he remembered that Lucy was coming back to work today, and he promptly forgot. He made his way to the break room and poured himself a black coffee into his travel mug, before leaving and heading into the break room. 

As he made his way down, he thought about Lucy and how excited he was for her to be back. The last5 4 weeks without her had been filled with nothing but silence and boredom. While Tim would never verbally admit it, he had missed Lucy. He missed her voice, how she ranted about things happening in her personal life, or about drama (or ‘tea’ as she called it) that was happening around the station. He missed the scent of her chai tea latte filling up the shop, he missed paying for that extra meal on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays, his days to pay. He missed her immensely, more than he thought he would, and he was very glad that she was back. 

Before he could open the door and wait for her, however, he was summoned into Grey’s office. He wrinkled his eyebrows and followed Grey into his office. He grew even more confused when he walked in, and saw Nolan and West sitting there, both looking uneasy and scared. 

“Whats going on, sir?” Tim asked. 

Grey looked at Nolan, who swallowed, and then spoke. “Lucy did not come home last night. She is not responding to texts or calls.”

“Where did she go?” Tim asked, and Jackson spoke up next. 

“She went on a date. She was supposed to come to my apartment,” Jackson said, before side glancing at both Grey and Nolan. “She was going to spend the night with me and then we were going to come to work together, as I live closer. But when I woke up, she wasn’t there. Neither was her car, and I have been trying since 7:30 am to get a hold of her.”

Fear swirled in the bottom of Tim’s stomach. “Who did she go on a date with?” 

“C-Caleb Wright.” Nolan said. “With a ‘W’.” 

Tim nodded. “Okay.” He said, pondering possibilities in his head briefly. “Is it possible that she’s just running behind and her phone is dead?” 

“Well, we thought of that but-“ Jackson said, but John cut him off.

“If she’s just running late and we ring the fire alarm, she’ll get dinged, but-“ 

“If we don’t, and something terrible happens…” Tim interjected, thoughts trailing off. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, his attention turning to Grey.  “What do we do?”

“Well, what do we know about this Caleb guy?” 

“Nothing.” Jackson said, shaking his head. “No, he uh-, he said that he worked for a medical supply company. Lucy showed me a video of him playing with a puppy.” 

Grey nodded. “Okay. Bradford, take West and run a background check. I want to know everything you can find on Caleb before we knock on his door.” He said. “And find Armstrong.” 

Tim nodded. “Right. Come on,” He said, motioning for West to follow him.

He heard Grey talking to Nolan about having him and Nyla run a trace on Lucy’s phone, in order to get her into the MUPS and NaMos systems that the LAPD used. 

As Tim and Jackson made it to Armstrongs office, where the detective was just settling in for the day, Grey walked out of his office, and called for everyones attention. 

“Everyone listen up,” He said, and the room fell silent. “Officer Lucy Chen has not been seen for approximately 13 hours. Given the circumstance, we cannot rule out abduction,” He said, and Tim breathed deeply, trying to control the nausea that he was feeling. 

His rookie was potentially missing. The person he was responsible for training, and for keeping safe while out on the streets. The person that was, even now, the best rookie he had ever trained, and ever will train. His Lucy could be missing, and he didn’t know what to do other than to focus, and do whatever Grey told him to do in order to find her. 

“So stop whatever you’re doing.” Grey continued. “I want everyone on this until she’s located.” He said, before turning to an officer. “Notify S.O., see if they can shag calls for service. 

Tim turned his focus to the computer that Armstrong was using as Nyla walked up to Grey. He overheard her say that the GPS on her phone was disabled, and he began to hyper focus on the words on the screen. He was no help to anyone, much less Lucy, if he was panicking. He had to remain calm, and get the background check like Grey had ordered him to. 

“Caleb Wright doesn’t seem to exist.” Armstrong said, concern evident on his face. 

Tim’s anxiety grew. What was going on? Tim shook his head and walked around the desk to look at the computer screen. 

“That’s impossible,” He said. “I saw his social media page.”

“Well, it’s gone now, so he must have erased it.” Armstrong said. “But if he is our guy, then he’s already faked one identity.”

“Bryan Coleman,” West chimed in. 

Armstrong nodded. “Exactly.” He agreed, pointing at Jackson. “He stole his life to gain access to the old zoo. Used it’s isolation to kill his victims,”

Tim nodded, understanding where Armstrong was leading. “But with that place burned, he’s gonna need new killing ground.” The though of Lucy being his next victim made his stomach churn, and his heart thud painfully in his chest. He couldn’t lose her. She had changed him so much already in their short time together, and he wasn’t ready for her 13 months with him to be up, much less to never see her again because she was murdered. He had to save her, but it angered him that he didn’t know how. He didn’t know the true identity of who took her, where she is, the state that she’s in, or if she’s even still alive. And that thought killed him. 

Armstrong nodded at Tim. “My guess is that he already has one, and thats where Lucy is right now.” Armstrong picked up the phone, and Tim nodded at West, motioning to the door. 

“Lets go.” He said, and Jackson lead them out of his office and towards the stairs. 

“If we don’t find her-“ Jackson started, but Tim stopped, and turned to look at him. 

“Don’t.” He said, cutting him off. “Don’t go there. If she was taken by him, the only way that you are good to her is if you are focused solely on saving her, not playing worst-case scenarios.” 

Jackson nodded, gulping. “Right.” He said. “Sorry. I’m just worried.” Tim nodded. 

“I know. I am too.” He admitted, and almost laughed at the shock evident on the rookie’s face. “But, we need to focus on her. This is not about us and how we’re feeling. This is about finding her, and saving her before it’s too late.” 

Jackson nodded. “Okay. You’re right. What do we do now?” He asked, and they continued their journey down to the main floor. 

“We go and tell Grey what we know, and wait for further instructions.” 

“Okay. Is it okay if I just run to the bathroom quick?” Jackson asked, and Tim nodded. He could tell that Jackson was starting to panic, and needed a moment alone to collect himself. 

“‘Course.” He said. “Meet me in his office when you’re done.” Jackson nodded, and Tim watched him walk towards the bathroom. Tim was about to turn to walk to Grey’s office, when he saw Jackson pull his phone out and make a call. He stopped, watched him for a moment, but decided not to eavesdrop on his call. If it was important to finding Lucy, he knew West would fill him in. If it wasn’t, it was personal, and Tim could honestly care less. 

He walked into Greys office, and Grey immediately stopped what he was doing to look up at him. “What did you find out about Caleb?” 

Tim shook his head, his hands on his hips. “He doesn’t exist. It seems to be an alias. And we figure that if he’s already faked one identity,” He said, and paused when the door opened. Jackson walked in and Tim looked at him, silently asking if he was good. Jackson nodded, and Tim continued speaking. “If he’s faked one identity already, then it has to be Bryan Coleman.” 

Jackson picked up where Tim left off. “We speculate that he used his identity to gain access to the old zoo, and used to the isolation to his benefit to kill his victims, but since we’ve found that spot already, he has to find somewhere new.”

“And that’s where Lucy is.” Grey finished, his head nodded. “Alright. Nolan and Harper are on their way back to the hospital after talking to the victim we saved yesterday. Go take 5, and we’ll reconvene in the briefing room when they’re back.” 

“Yes, sir.” Tim and Jackson said at the same time. They left the office, and Jackson headed left, towards the front door, presumably to wait for Nolan. Tim however, went and sat in the briefing room. 

He didn’t want to take 5. He wanted to be on the streets, knocking on doors, finding out where Lucy was. He wanted to find her and bring her home. He wanted to find her, and make sure that she knew that no matter how tough he was with her; no matter how many Tim Tests he puts her through, he cared about her, and he wanted nothing more than for her to be safe. She needed to be home. She needed to be at the station with him, not being held somewhere unknown by a serial killer’s protege. 

He blinked back tears in surprise as his foot tapped against the floor, watching the minutes slowly tick down. Why was he crying? Tim Bradford rarely cried, not because he didn’t find things sad, but because he didn’t allow himself to.  The last time he fully allowed himself to break down in tears was the drive home from serving Isabel with divorce papers. He couldn’t let himself cry over Lucy, especially now. If he did, it would mean revealing his weakness, and he wasn’t ready for that yet. He wasnt ready for the looks, the whispers, the questions. The higher ups asking his nature of his relationship with Lucy. He couldn’t do that. Not to himself, and especially not to Lucy, who wasn’t even a P2 yet. So, he swallowed the lump in his throat, and sniffed, blinking away the tears.

He had barely blinked away the last tear when Armstrong came into the room, and walked up to the whiteboard that had all of the important facts about Lucy and her disappearance. 

“The bartender at Las Torres recognized Lucy and Caleb.” He said, and Tim sat up straighter, hope beginning to build in his chest. “The good news-“ he continued. “Theres a security camera in the parking lot, so we know that they left at 9:05. The bad news?” Armstrong clicked on the monitor in the room to reveal the footage of Caleb leading Lucy out of the bar by her upper arm. “The camera angles too steep to recognize faces.”

Tim sighed, shaking his head. All he wanted, all anyone in this room wanted was to find Lucy, but it seemed that at every turn so far, the universe was working against them. And Tim hated it with a passion. Tim let a breath out from his nose, attempting to calm the burning fury in his body. There wasn’t a lot that made Tim angry enough to feel the need to fight God, but someone he lo- no, cared about, being in any sort of pain was certainly enough. 

“Two minutes later,” Armstrong resumed speaking. “This car drove by.” Tim watched as a grey car drove through the frame, and Tim sighed, knowing that Lucy was most likely inside of it. 

“The licence plate on Caleb’s car was reported stolen earlier that day,” Grey said, looking between the room and the images on the monitor. “Officer Chen’s care was found in the alley where she left it last night. Which means, we believe that Caleb is Rosalind’s protege, and he took Officer Chen.” 

Tim sighed in disappointment. He knew that what they were saying was the truth, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Tim picked up the rapid breathing of his heart, and the anxiety fluttering in his stomach, a silent threat of the possible reappearance of his breakfast. But, before he could spiral fully, Grey caught his attention again. 

“I know how upsetting this is, but we have to remain focused. She’s counting on us.” Tim heard Grey ask if there were any questions, but Tim didn’t stick around to find out. He walked out of the room, pulling his phone out as he walked. 

He dialled Angela’s number, and breathed, knowing his best friend would be able to sense the shakiness of his voice no matter how hard he tried to hide it. 

“What’s up?” She answered casually. 

“Hey. Lucy’s been taken. I need you.” He said simply, and waited for her response. The line was silent for a moment before Angela spoke again. 

“On my way.” Tim hung up the phone and stuffed it back into his pocket, walking back into the briefing room. 

When he re-entered, Nolan was up at the front, relaying the information that he and Harper had gotten from the other victim at the hospital. 

“Nora was abducted two nights ago.” He said. “We found her 18 hours later, already tattooed, and about to be put in a barrel to be suffocated. This makes Caleb’s timeline from abduction to death approximately 24 hours.” Tim’s hands shook listened.

“Which means we have less than 10 hours to find Lucy.” Jackson said, his face portraying everything Tim was feeling. 

“Unless we’re wrong, and she’s dead already.” Armstrong stated casually, and Tim dug his nails into the palm of his hands to prevent himself from punching Armstrong for even thinking to suggest such a stupid idea. No, she was alive, but they needed to find her before she wasn’t anymore. 

“No,” Harper interjected. “Look, I know I haven’t known Lucy as long as the rest of you, but I do know she is a fighter.” She said, glancing back at Tim briefly. “She’s gonna do everything she can to stay alive until we save her.” Tim nodded in agreement, watching as people filed out of the room, but Tim remained rooted to his spot, staring at her picture on the whiteboard. 

He needed her safe. He needed her by his side, where he knew she was alive, and okay. He didn’t know how he was going to get through these next few hours, but he knew that he had to do it so that his rookie, his Lucy, would be safe. 

He suddenly found himself sitting down next to Jackson, answering calls, when Angela walked into the station, Wesley trailing behind her. 

“Hey,” he said, standing up to greet her. “Thanks for coming in.” 

“Of course,” She said, looking to the side of her, and seeing the phones that him and Jackson, and two other officers were manning. “Grey’s got you on tip lines?” 

Tim nodded. “Nothing says we got squat like listening to the public.” He looked up at Wesley. “Day off?”

Wesley nodded, not making eye contact with Tim. “Yeah, something like that.” Tim looked at him suspiciously, but let it go. “Can I help?” 

Tim crossed his arms. “Whats your tolerance for cranks and asshats wasting your time?” 

Wesley shrugged. “I’m a public defender.”

Tim nodded his head to the phones. “Have at it.” 

“This is useless,” Tim said, turning to Angela as Jackson spoke to Wesley. “We should be on the streets kicking down doors.”

“Who’s doors?” Angela asked, a concerned look on her face. 

“I don’t know,” He answered honestly. “But I-I can’t just sit here.” He stormed away, desperate to do something, anything, to bring Lucy home. 

Of course, Angela being Angela, followed after him. “Wait up!” 

Tim rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, just blowing off steam.”

“I get it,” Angela said, following after him. “But you got to get your head in the game.”

Frustrated, Tim turned around to face her. “I don’t need a pep talk.” 

“Then why’d you call me?” She demanded. “Clearly, you need to get something off of your chest.”

Tim sighed. “This is my fault.” He answered, looking down at his shoes. 

“What?” Angela asked. “How?” 

“The day I came back from my leave, I went to her apartment after shift. No one would tell me anything about why she was off. I questioned her, but she wouldn’t tell me. Something was going on, and I should have pressed her more. I should have been there for her, I’m her training officer for gods sake. I should have known something was wrong.”

Angela took a step closer. “Tim, she didn’t tell anyone. All we know about her leave is what Jackson and John have been permitted to tell us. Something happened, and she needed time off to deal with it. That doesn’t make you a bad training officer. You did all you could.” She explained. 

“I could have done more.” Tim stated, before turning to walk away. 

“What is it about her?” Angela asked, making Tim stop in his tracks. 

“What?” He asked, turning around, confusion all over his face. 

“Look, I’ve known you since before you became a TO. You’re hard on your rookies, but you’re also fiercely protective over them. But with Lucy, you are more over protective than you have with any other rookie. You’ve honestly been quite lenient on her so far. So, what is it about Lucy that makes you feel like you should have prevented this? That you should have protected her better, or been there for her more? You’ve always said that you’re their training officer, not their friend. What is it about Lucy that changed that for you?”

Tim shook his head, before looking up at Angela. She’d been his best friend for years. He could never hide anything from her, even if he wanted to. He knew that she would instantly see through whatever bullshit answer he would give her, so he decided to be truthful. As much as he could be with himself, anyways. 

“She turned around and smiled at me.” He said, his voice quiet and shaky. A crease formed on Angela’s forehead, showing her confusion. “Her first day, when Grey said she was paired with me, she turned around, and smiled at me. I don’t know what it was, but she’s got this grip on me, and I don’t know why. I don’t know how to not care about her this much.” He said, a stray tear, falling from his eye as he spoke. 

“Tim…” Angela said quietly. “Tim, I think you know why.” Tim shook his head immediately, knowing what she was getting at. 

“No,” he responded. “Thats not it. She’s my rookie, I would never cross that line.” 

Angela smiled sadly. “I know you wouldn’t. That doesn’t mean your heart doesn’t still want her.”

Tim shook his head, trying to protest, but his face betrayed him, crumpling as he fought to stop the sob clawing its way out of his throat. Angela didn’t say anything, just pulled him into her arms, and held him as he cried. 

“We’re going to find her,” She said eventually. “Whatever it takes.”

—- 

An hour later, and Tim had calmed down. His sadness and anxiety was now replaced by anger. Anger that was stronger than before, and made him want to burn the world to ashes just to find her. And that’s exactly what he was going to do. 

“Problem officer?” 

Tim wasted no time in reaching through the open window, grabbing a fistful of the Benjamins hair, and slamming his face onto the steering wheel. 

“You listen to me very carefully,” He spat. “Your name is Benjamin Lassie. You’re a mid level idiot who controls every illicit item that enters the Central California Women’s Facility. And today is your day of reckoning.” He squeezed tighter. “Now, I am responsible for a life that is in jeopardy, and I will do whatever I have to to save her. Do you understand?” He demanded. 

“Theres a man who gives you items to smuggle onto death row for Rosalind Dyer. You are gonna give me that man.” He continued. 

“Why would I do that?” Benjamin demanded. 

Tim squeezed even tighter. “Because if you don’t, I will pull you inside out.” He threatened, and he then watched with a sickening satisfaction as Benjamin saw his life flash before his eyes, and spit out the name; Jerry Havel.

Tim smiled, released Benjamin, and sent him off with a threatening look that told him Tim would follow through with his threats if he said a word about what just happened to anyone. 

Jackson then shakily followed him back to the shop, and as soon as he shut the door, Tim was speeding back to the station while Jackson typed his name into the computer to do a background check. 

“Any information you get, you text it immediately to Lopez.” Tim said in a calm tone, feeling bad for scaring him.

“Yes, sir.”

—-

30 minutes later, Tim had managed to get a S.W.A.T. team and a no knock warrant together, ready to raid Jerry Havel’s place. Tim followed behind S.W.A.T. as they moved in on Havel’s place. 

They paused briefly at the door, before busting it open, and running inside. “Go, go, go!” One of the S.W.A.T. member said as Jerry began to run. Another officer shot him in the right shoulder, and he fell to the ground on his face. 

Tim ran up to him, Jackson following behind. He grabbed him, and turned him over. “Where’s Lucy?” His heart dropped into his stomach when he realized that the man he was faced with was not Caleb. “That’s not - that’s not Caleb.” He said, moving away from the man in front of him. “Damn it!” he yelled in frustration. 

He tried to control his breathing as Jackson took over, yelling at the man about his name, and where he worked. Tim looked back at Jerry, who told them through stuttering that his name was in face Jerry Havel, but he had never worked at that prison, and had been on disability for the last five years after an inmate shivved him during a riot. 

“Look, DOC clearly states that you work at that prison.” Jackson said. 

Jerry sighed and looked down. “My identity was stolen.” He said. “Right around 3 years ago. Really screwed up my credit.” 

Tim nodded, making the connections in his head. “Caleb used Jerry’s identity to get into prison, get close to Rosalind.”

“Just like he stole Bryan Coleman’s identity.” Jackson finished as he holstered his gun. 

“Is this connected to the officer that was abducted?” Jerry asked. 

Tim nodded. “Yeah.” He said, tears welling up in his eyes as he spoke. “And you were our last shot at saving her.” 

Tim moved on auto pilot for the next hour. So much so, that he didn’t remember anything between leaving Jerry’s house, and arriving back at the station.  Once he arrived there, he was handing over a file that had a record of the credit card charges on the card that Caleb had used under Jerry’s name that Jackson had found. 

“Hey, hey,” He said, getting Angela’s. Grey’s, and Wesleys attention. “We got something.” He said, dropping the file on the table. “Caleb used Jerry’s identity to rent a post office box in Kern County, near the prison. But, he kept it up after he quit.” He explained, as Angela opened the file, and began pouring through the contents. “Still pays for it. He must have a place close by.” 

Angela grabbed a piece of paper, and read from it, comparing what was in the file with her own notes. “Rosalind’s family - her trust owns a farm in Kern County.” She handed him the paper that showed evidence of the farm. 

Before he knew it, he was in the stations helicopter, racing to Kern county with Angela, Grey, Jackson, with Nyla and John on the ground in a shop. 

When they landed on the farm in Kern County, Nolan told them that Caleb was dead, and that Lucy was buried somewhere on the property. Tim felt a sick sense of happiness knowing that Caleb was dead. He was gone, and now he could never touch a single hair on her head again. She was one step closer to being safe, and now all they had to do was dig her up before it was too late.

Nolan thrust a phone into Angela’s hands. Angela looked down, watching the video of Lucy inside the barrel. “I can’t even tell if she’s still breathing,” She said anxiously, looking up at Grey. 

“Spread out.” Grey commanded. Tim looked around, trying to find a good place to start looking. “Airship, we have an officer buried alive.” The panic that Tim had been desperately trying to keep at bay came bubbling to the surface, and his chest started to constrict as he looked at the open fields. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to keep the tears at bay, but knowing at some point in the next few minutes, he would be crying. Either from relief, or grief. 

He took a moment to calm himself, repeating the words he had said to Jackson earlier in the day to himself in his head. “The only way that you are good to her is if you are focused solely on saving her, not playing worst-case scenarios.” 

He turned to look at the house briefly, before realizing that there was no way Caleb would have buried her close to the house. He turned to Jackson and explained, before summoning Jackson to follow him. He took off running as far as he could as fast as he could. 

A few minutes later, they came to the top of a hill. “Lets split up,” He suggested to Jackson. “You go left, alright?” Jackson nodded, and took off to the left. Tim continued forward, looking around for any possible sight that Caleb could have buried her. 

Then, as he was coming down the slope of another hill, something caught his eye. A sparkle, so bright it nearly blinded him briefly. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but then realized that there wasn’t much around there that could produce a sparkle like that. He took a step closer and looked again, finding the sparkle once more. He ran up to the spot the sparkle originated from, and fell to his knees in front of it. 

He scooped up the source of the sparkle, and could have cried right then and there when he realized what it was. 

Her ring. Her moonstone ring. 

He stood up, and began looking around in the dirt for any indication that she could be close. He began kicking dirt around, and stomping, hoping to God that she had dropped it on purpose, and it wasn’t another one of Caleb’s tricks.

But, when he stomped again, and heard the unmistakable sound of rubber on metal, he knew it wasn’t a trick. Lucy had left him a clue, and she was right there.

He stomped two more times just to be sure, but once he heard the clanging two more times, he turned around and shouted. “I’VE GOT HER!” He then pocketed the ring, dropped to his knees, and began digging with his bare hands. 

His hands ached after a few seconds, the sharp rocks in the sand cutting and digging into his skin, but his need to save Lucy, get her out of that barrel outweighed all of that. He was so close to her, he just needed to keep going. 

A few moments later, Nyla, Jackson, and Angela joined him in the digging, with the rest of the officers headed their way. The local PD joined in moments later, bringing shovels, making the process move quicker. The metal of the shovels hit the metal of the barrel, and Tim choked out a sob. 

“Guys,” He managed to say. “Right here.” He said as he reached forward for the latch on the barrel, pulling it towards him. It took two pulls, but on the second one the latch snapped, and the lid came off. 

He threw it behind him, and looked into the barrel.

There she was, hunched over, her curled hair laying over her back, tangled with dirt and blood. 

“Come on!” Tim yelled, and began pulling Lucy out of the barrel. Everyone joined in and helped him get her out and onto the ground. 

He touched her head softly once she was laid on the ground, and leaned in, listening for breathing. He heard Grey ask if she was breathing, but didn’t answer. When he heard no breathing, he cupped her chin and her forehead, breathing two rescue breaths into her mouth to help her lungs inflate. He then moved his hands to her chest and started compressions, watching her face for any sign of life.

As he did the compressions, all he could focus on was her. He got to her, now all he could do was hope he could restart her heart in time. The more compressions he did, the more desperate he became. Why wasn’t her heart starting to beat? Why wasn’t she moving, breathing, crying? Was she-

Lucy gasped in a deep breath, her body starting to shake. Tim cried out in happiness as her eyes fluttered open. He reached behind her and helped sit her up, cradling her to his chest when she burst into tears, curling towards his chest. 

“You’re okay,” He whispered to her, as he pulled her closer. As he held her, he noticed that all of the anger, pain, anxiety, and fear had disappeared. As soon as she took that gulping breath in, his body knew she was safe, that she was alive. 

“You’re okay,” He whispered into her hair. Even after all that she went through, she still smelled like herself, and it calmed Tim down even further. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He whispered as he cradled her head to his chest. 

He breathed deeply, letting the tears fall from his eyes. They got to her in time, and she was going to be okay. She was back in his arms, she was breathing, and was crying. All signs she was a survivor. 

——

Tim rode with her in the ambulance. When the paramedics had arrived on scene, she refused to let go of Tim, starting to go into a panic attack whenever someone tried to separate her from him. Once they had gotten her into the ambulance, and had taken her vitals, they gave her a sedative, and she fell asleep within a minute, still holding tightly to Tim’s hand. 

Tim held onto her hand the entire ambulance ride, and then helicopter ride back to St Stephens, his eyes locked onto the bleeding marks from where she had been bound at the wrists. He didn’t let go until they landed at St Stephens, and she was rushed into the back to be examined. 

He was shown into a waiting room, where he was told that Dr Sawyer would come and get him when he could see her. He was about to sit down, when his phone began to ring. He fished it out of his pocket, and answered it, briefly seeing Nolan’s name flash across the screen. 

“Tim,” John said as soon as he picked up. “Listen, I don’t want you to question what I’m about to ask you, I just need you to do it.” He said, and Tim, who was still in shock from everything, just agreed, and listened to what John had to say. “I need you to go to Mid Wilshire Childcare Centre. You need to go to the baby room and pick up Tamara Chen, and bring her to the hospital. Don’t forget your ID. You’re on the approved pick up list and I’ve called ahead, so don’t worry about any questions. There will be someone waiting for you at the front door to show you where to go, alright?” He said, and Tim, who was utterly confused now, nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, okay.” He said goodbye to John, and left the hospital immediately after informing the nurses that he would be back. He hopped in the shop, stopped by the station briefly to grab a carseat, and then hopped back in the shop. 

He pulled into Mid Wilshire Childcare Centre, and grabbed his drivers licence out of his wallet, before making his way to the front door. There was a middle aged woman waiting for him, a smile on her face. 

“Tim Bradford, I’m assuming?” She said, and Tim nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

The lady nodded. “I’m Martha, the chef here. If you follow me, I can show you to the baby room. I know you’re in a hurry.” She said. She turned, put a code into a key pad, and entered the building, Tim following behind her. As soon as they walked in, Martha turned right, and led him to the end of the hallway. They entered a small classroom with two educators, and 4 babies. 2 of the babies were playing in a water table, the other one was sitting at the table, eating banana, and a third one, who didn’t look older than a few weeks old,  being held in a rocking chair by another educator. 

“Tim, this is Ella, and Cara. Ella is Tamara’s primary educator.” Martha said, and Tim nodded to her. 

“Nice to meet you, Ella.”

Ella smiled. “You too, sir.” She said. “Tamara has had a really good day today. She slept well, drank both bottles, and enjoyed our walk we took them on.” She said, as she went over to the other educator, Cara, and took the small infant from her. 

She carried her over, and Tim blinked quickly, realizing that the small infant must be Tamara. “Okay, thank you.” Tim said. 

Ella smiled. “No problem. We will need some more wipes for her, probably in the next day or so.” Tim nodded. 

“Okay perfect. Is there anything else?” 

“Oh, yes.” Ella said, grabbing the binder off of the counter. “Could I just see your ID?” 

Tim nodded and handed it over. Ella compared the names before smiling and handing it back. 

“Thank you.” She said, putting the binder down. “If you follow me, I’ll show you Tamara’s things.” 

Tim followed Ella as she showed him her cubby, and handed him her backpack.

“Okay, you’re all set, we’ll see you later.” Ella said and Tim thanked her again before following Martha out of the building. 

“Have a good night,” Martha said, holding the door open for him. 

“Thank you, you too,” He responded, looking down at the small infant in his arms that apparently belonged to Lucy. 

“Okay, little one,” he said quietly, opening up the door to the shop, and buckling her in her carseat. “Let’s go see Mama, I guess.”

—-

When Tim walked back into the waiting room, he was greeted with Grey and Luna sitting together. They both turned to look at him when he walked in with the baby carrier, and Grey smiled. 

“Oh good,” Grey said. “You didn’t have any issues picking up?” He asked, and Tim shook his head no.

“No, sir. I guess Nolan called ahead because she was ready to go when I got there.” He said.

Grey chuckled. “You look confused, son.” 

Tim laughed quietly, sitting down, and placing the car seat at his feet. “I am very confused. When did Lucy have a baby?” He asked, as he bent down and got Tamara out. Tamara gazed up at him as he lifted her up, holding her head in one hand and bum in the other. 

“She didn’t,” Grey said. Tim looked at him, confused. Grey sighed. “Look, I’m going to tell you this simply because you need to know why you’re holding a baby that shares a name with your rookie.” He said, and Tim nodded. “When you were on leave for your GSW, Lucy was on patrol with Wrigley. She found a mother OD’d, just hours after having given birth to her.” He said, pointing to Tamara. Tim’s eyes locked onto the tiny infant while Grey spoke. 

“Lucy came with her to the hospital, and when DCFS showed up, Lucy asked to take her in, as she is an emergency foster parent. DCFS agreed, and that’s why Lucy went on leave.” He said, and Tim looked at him in shock. 

“Oh,” He said, stunned. 

Grey nodded. “Yep. Then, 4 weeks ago, she got a call from DCFS stating that they were unable to locate any of her family, and Lucy was given the option to adopt her.”

Tim smiled. “Which she took.” He said, running his thumb over her cheek.

Grey nodded, as Luna sat on the other side of Tim.

“Yes,” Luna said. “And she’s doing a terrific job as a single mother.” 

Tim smiled again, moving Tamara closer to his chest. “I have no doubt about that.” He said. “Gosh, she’s so beautiful.” He commented, as Tamara’s eyes fluttered shut. 

“That she is,” Grey said. “Look, please don’t be mad with Lucy over hiding this from you. She was just trying to protect Tamara.” 

Tim nodded. “I know, and I’m not. But I am going to tell her that I am going to help her, in anyway she needs. I’m her training officer, but also her friend, and I’m going to help her through this.”

[grapenehifics]

Countdown to Chapter One!

My fellow Obikins: I am very, VERY excited to share my next fic with you. Some of you may remember a fic of mine called An Uncivil War, the first chapter of which I posted on AO3 almost exactly a year ago, in May of 2023, and wrapped up that July. At the time, I mentioned to a number of people in the comments that I was already partway through the sequel (An Uncivil War is listed as part one of a three-part series, Can't Stop the Suns), and that I hoped to have Part II ready to go by end of 2023.

Well, that obviously didn't happen. I started looking at February 2024. That didn't happen either. I pushed it to April. April has come and gone. May, though! May I am going to make happen! May 27th, 2024, to be exact. Chapter one of Pick Up the Pieces, a.k.a. part 2 of Can't Stop the Suns, a.k.a. the sequel to An Uncivil War, a.k.a. the thing I have been writing on and off for more than three years now, is going up on AO3. (Excerpt and way more ramblings below the cut.)

A) I wanted to make this announcement in advance because I'm just really excited to share this fic. Parts of it I've posted on Tumblr as WIP Wednesdays, but most of it I've tried to keep under wraps until it's ready and, frankly, I really want to talk about it!

B) @palfriendpatine66 specifically asked for a heads-up before I started posting, but I figured I'd share publicly in case anyone else has the same desire to read (or re-read) part one before starting part two. May 27th is the day!

I do want to say, though - prior knowledge of An Uncivil War is NOT required to understand or enjoy this fic. If you haven't read An Uncivil War, I would really love it if you did! I'm enormously proud of it and love, love, love talking about it. But I also don't want anyone to not give Pick Up the Pieces a try, assuming they were otherwise interested, because they're worried they won't understand what's going on. If you want to jump in, make sure you read the tags and the summary, and by the time you get to chapter three you should have a pretty good grounding in what happened previously. Obviously there are some little details here and there you'll miss but for the most part you should be okay. I did try to make it as accessible as possible.

C) Thirdly - mostly as a reward for reading this far - I thought it would be fun, over the next three Wednesdays, to give a sneak peek of one of the later chapters, because I've really missed doing regular WIP Wednesdays for this fic (for the aforementioned secrecy reasons).

The main part of the fic is set during what would have been the final year of the Clone Wars, except we take a departure from canon during the season 5 episode The Wrong Jedi and diverge off-course from there. Mixed in with that, though, are flashback chapters, covering some portion of Anakin's years as Obi-Wan's Padawan, which have just been a blast to write. They go in roughly chronological order, and this one in particular is set when Anakin is 17. I'll post a little bit today, the next part a week from today, the final section the week after that, and then you'll get the rest of it when chapter ten goes up in the actual fic :)

Chapter Ten preview starts below:

“Uh…” Anakin looked down at his cards and bit his lip. “Hit me?” he asked tentatively. The three other players around the table blinked slowly back at him. He reached out and flipped the top card of the table deck over, letting the rest of the players see it. “Damnit,” he hissed through his teeth.

“Tough luck, boy,” boomed the Besalisk on Anakin’s right, the one he was most worried about getting a peek at his cards. “That makes twenty-two.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Anakin snapped, frustrated. He tossed his cards face-down in front of him. “Don’t remind me.”

Anakin was losing, and quite badly at that. He really needed to slow down and stop the bleeding or Obi-Wan was going to catch him not only gambling, but totally out of credits, too, and he would not be happy about it.

“I’m going to take a break,” Anakin said suddenly, standing up so quickly his chair squeaked. “I’ll sit out this round. Be right back.” He scooped the (very meager) pile of credits he had left to his name into his hand and pocketed them before walking away. What he really wanted to do was take a quick minute to check the chronometer strapped to his wrist without any of them seeing him do it, but needing to take a walk was as good an excuse as any.

He didn’t leave the Castle (Takodana was a little too humid for Anakin’s liking), just took a slow lap around the edges of it, checking out the other gambling tables, the billiards games, the tourists, the regulars, the spacers, the spice runners, the spice addicts, the smugglers. The people who, if he hadn’t become a Jedi, probably would have been his friends and his enemies, his rivals, his contemporaries. His lovers, maybe.

The lower levels of Takodana Castle had once been an ancient Jedi temple, a fact Obi-Wan had mentioned rather a few more times than strictly necessary on their trip over from Coruscant. It had been built on the site of an even more ancient battleground, where Jedi and Sith had fought one another centuries – maybe a millennia – ago. The Jedi had won, that time, and built the original Takodana Temple as a kind of memorial. Anakin let the tips of his fingers trail over the wet, warm stone walls as he walked, feeling to see if he could catch any whispers of the old voices. Old hurts, old betrayals, old war wounds…

He had started doing this thing, about a year or so back. He had discovered, largely by accident (not that Jedi were supposed to believe in accidents, just The Will of the Force, and all that), that he could, rather paradoxically, up the ante on his meditation skills by upping the ante on his distractions. He’d been filling in for Obi-Wan, who was supposed to have been taking a turn sitting in with a group of the youngest Younglings but had been called away at the last minute (or so he had said, at least; Anakin still wasn’t totally sure he believed him). Anakin had tried to keep to the Younglings’ schedule, which included a quarter of an hour of daily mandated meditation time. Younglings not being particularly good at meditation (they were worse at it than Anakin was, which was really saying something), they’d lasted only about half that time before starting to get fidgety. It had started small – a few coughs here and there, a couple of giggles, wiggling on their mats – and then had progressed from there to full-blown chaos. Anakin was supposed to be setting an example, though, and was determined to sit still, keep his eyes closed, and ignore everything that wasn’t an outright cry for medical attention until the allotted time was up.

What he had found, though, was that it was actually one of his better meditation sessions. The noisier the room got, the more relaxed Anakin got. He’d eventually opened his eyes to find one Youngling on his lap, another chewing on his Padawan braid, and a third hanging from the ceiling rafters, but had felt…calm and at peace and a little floaty, but also grounded, connected to the Force, the air, even the children. He’d asked Obi-Wan about it later that night over dinner. Obi-Wan had suggested they meditate over it, which made Anakin roll his eyes because he already had meditated today, that was the whole thing he wanted to talk to Obi-Wan about, and how much meditation did a person need every day, really? But after they ate he’d dutifully sat down across from Obi-Wan and closed his eyes anyway. Obi-Wan had reached out and taken Anakin’s hands in his, which almost made up for the double meditation session. (Almost.)

And then, just as Anakin was starting to settle into something resembling regulating his breathing, something hard and poky had slammed into the side of his head.

“Ow!” he’d said, reflexively, and opened his eyes. Obi-Wan’s datapad was lying on the floor beside him. Obi-Wan himself was still sitting serenely, holding Anakin’s hands.

“What the kriff did you do that for?” Anakin demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan had said, without opening his eyes, “I thought you said you liked having distractions while you meditated.”

“Not painful ones!” Anakin shot back.

“Apologies.” The holopad, from the floor, flicked on and started replaying whatever the last thing either of them had watched on it, which happened to be a nature documentary about tee-muss. “Is that better?”

Anakin grumbled about it, but he had, sort of, asked for this, and admitting defeat now would be both embarrassing and would necessitate him letting go of Obi-Wan’s hands, so he closed his eyes and tried again.

Of course, the first thing he had to do was release the pain in his head into the Force, but once he’d done that, he found that, once again, sifting through his distractions was easier when he actually had distractions to sift through. He let the migratory patterns of wild tee-muss go, and felt Obi-Wan squeeze his hands. “Good, Anakin,” he murmured softly, so quietly Anakin almost couldn’t hear him over the documentary narrator. “That’s very good.” (Anakin had replayed the moment in his head, putting that voice of Obi-Wan’s into different and much more…naked contexts, so many times since then that he could get hard just thinking about it, now.)

So Anakin had started to experiment, on and off. He turned the holoprojector on in their rooms while he was meditating. He sat in the corner of the refectory and meditated during mealtimes. Once, he tried meditating during galactic history class, but his teacher had ratted him out to Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan had told him not to do that anymore. And, now, he wanted to see if he could do it while inside Takodana Castle on a bustling summer afternoon.

To be continued next Wednesday!

[autisticlancemcclain]

thank u @zenstrike for the tag <333333333 i see ur mic and i'm elated about it

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

185! but i haven't updated in like a week and a half so we're probably closer to 190

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

556,104. i am very excited to watch it jump up when i finally finish my longfic teehee

3. what fandoms do you write for?

literally just voltron lol. well not counting baby me's wattpad lol. i started writing almost two years ago and just went ham basically. i've been intentionally avoiding things that i know i will get hyperfixated on bc i don't want to stop my writing obsession lol

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

ooooou i'm excited to check. i know it's changed quite a bit over time. i usually sort them by hits!

i will grind you to sand (beneath my louboutin heels) [voltron, 2573 words]: bamf lance fic where i give him a revolver and let him go ham basically

mr. snuggles [voltron, 1656 words]: one of my very earliest fics! lance, lover of weirdo animals, finds a demonic cat-sized spider and adopts it despite his friend's freakouts

he might not look like he gets bitches (but honey that dick was eleven inches) [voltron, 1136 words]: this one is so dorky lol but it's just secret relationship klance coming to light in the most embarrassing possible way

does anyone know where the love of god goes (when the waves turn the minutes to hours) [voltron, 4283]: a canon divergence au where lance is a seer and convinces the skeptics on his team of his abilities by ending the war

this is the part of me that you're never gonna ever get away) [voltron, 3262 words]: a lance & shiro hurt/comfort with a small autistic lance character study! i'm very proud of this one

5. do you respond to comments?

i definitely do on tumblr! it's one of the first things i do when i wake up actually. on ao3, though...i'm pretty sure i have about eight hundred unanswered comments sitting in my inbox 💀 it's an ongoing issue

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

i'm almost sure it's this post-game show lance leaving fic, because i got comments and asks for weeks begging me to write a happy ending lol. but this fic from the hana universe, from when keith is little and shiro is fighting for custody and they haven't figured things out yet. that one is sad. this dream pov adashi fic is also sad and has no happy ending bc, you know. shiro is in space and adam thinks he's dead and everything. my loneliest series is also still in progress and as such there is no happy ending. and this is my earliest angsty-ending fic with MCD

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

oh god pretty much everything i write has a happy ending?? if i’m being serious?? frankly i don’t do a lot of linear plot. i just write Scenes that are vaguely connected. BUT my h2o fic had a plot that ended happily, as did my cowboy fic, but truly i’m more of a slice of life kinda gal. all my active wips are plot-driven, though, and i plan for all of them to end happily.

8. do you get hate on fics?

oh god yeah. i get it on brown eyed lance, autistic lance, adhd keith, allura just in general (are you sensing a pattern), my refusal to use readmores, and lately just some demands for me to write differently/more?? most of it is just funny so i post it to goof on it lol, but some of it i just delete and pout about until i forget about it 💀

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

yes and it’s nasty and i will literally never ever post it. although i guess i’ve written some softer stuff that’s more allusion than anything, like in my loneliest series.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not anymore, but i did when i was a kid?? i think i wrote a pjo/hoo/divergent/the mortal instruments/homestuck/a bunch of other shit fic when i was 13. i’ve successfully blocked that era out of my mind tho so i’m not sure. i do a lot of insane aus, tho. i wrote a fic based off a country song written in the sixties. so.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

i’ve had people write continuations of my wips?? which i didn’t rly like. i just ignored it.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

someone has asked me about translating a fic before! haven’t heard anything since tho.

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

i have tried. i’m not very good at it. i have very Specific ideas about things and can be very controlling, so it’s honestly better that i don’t lol.

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

klance, easy. been in the trenches of this goddamn fandom since i was 13 years of age. it’s been a Journey.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

god, the butterfly effect. i get people asking me to update all the time and i genuinely feel bad, because i have absolutely no ideas or plans for it. i might try to come up with an ending of some kind?? but i wrote that like two years ago, so i have changed a LOT about my writing since then.

16. what are your writing strengths?

dialogue and humour, i think. and sometimes writing lack of emotional communication (if that makes sense — i like to try and write around an emotion).

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i over explain a lot. and i overuse dialog ur tags sometimes. i have a Very Specific scene playing out in my head and i want everyone else to see it like i’m seeing it, which is my downfall a lot. i’ve been trying to work on implicit stage directions.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think sometimes it’s necessary? it can be a good tool for humour, like with cussing that can’t be achieved in english. but while i understand and read several languages i have always always struggled to speak or write in them. it’s very frustrating so i often avoid the subject entirely lol.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

i’ve been writing fanfic in my head since before i knew what it was, but i started typing things at around 11 when i used to homestuck roleplay with my friends lol. messy messy times.

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh i am my own target audience. i have several.

i need a man (who’s patient and kind): keith-centric post canon (divergence) fic where lance takes him to his family and keith is good with kids and just keith being loved is the whole point. always.

what if i lose it all: an alternate universe where lance, as a baby, loses both his parents, and then is raised by his oldest siblings. in luis’ pov.

when does a ripple become a tidal wave (when does the reason become the flame): brogane fight & angst canon divergence post season 6; covering shiro’s guilt complex and keith’s unwavering loyalty

he’s into superstitions (black cats and voodoo dolls): halloween verse with witch lance and vampire keith! i have barely spoken about this au on here but rest assured i’m thinking about it all the fucking time

the applebee’s universe: modern au with young keith and lance learning how to love each other

ceilings (plaster): non-linear dream-like fic that’s just so trippy and strange i’m obsessed with it

if the sky comes falling down (for you) there’s nothing in this world i wouldn’t do: a keith character study about how the biggest bleeding heart in the universe loves

the hana universe: brogane-centric universe as their family starts rocky and grows

thank u again for the tag zen <33 open offer for anyone else who would like to hop on!!

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @blarrghe  |  [AO3: blarghe

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

Tortured Man More Tortured by Having To Endure the Best Week of His Life

Blarghe and Dema talk art imitating life writing, romantic foils, and the Platonic Ideal Dorianmance 

Dema: I'd love to begin in OC land with you. As someone who is both an artist and a writer, do you find that making art of your OCs informs your process? Or are those pretty separate for you?

Blarghe: Hmm. That's a good question.

Dema: Why, thank you!

Blarghe: My feeling has always been that I'm a better writer than I am an artist, so maybe the writing informs the art, more. I am always getting very visual ideas, like maybe some comic-panel type storyboards in the brain, and I can't really illustrate that to the degree that I want, so it can be like it is in my head. But I can more easily make words do that.

I'd very much like to do some illustrations for my own stuff, and I love drawing my OC and some things have helped in the other way, like designing his vallaslin on paper did give me something better to describe from in writing. I'd really love to reach the point of being able to do a few comics. There are a few scenes I really see that way. I try to be quite visual in my writing in the meantime I guess, haha.

Dema: That makes sense! I have the same dream. Comics are very intimidating. So it sounds like you write your OCs before you draw them?

Blarghe: Yeah, generally. I think since we're going from a video game and I already have seen the characters that way, there's that. Though I have OCs I have not made in the character creator. I haven't invented a ton of non-canon side characters but there are a few. I think I can picture them pretty well. I wind up drawing them after falling in love with them through writing them, rather than like, designing a character visually/on paper/in the cc before putting them in a story. Honestly, I put down DA:I for a looong time while still writing da:i-inspired fic with my OC and other canon characters. So I guess I don't have to look at him that often.

Dema: I have asked several of our writers if they make all their OCs in the CC, and if that's step 1. I'm curious, too, at what point you knew you were going to make fan content of your OC and participate in fandom. Did you finish the game first? Did you come in with a foot already in the fandom?

Blarghe: Ok long answer: I was into the games first. I started playing in maybe 2015, shortly after Inquisition came out. My partner already liked the games and was excited to play it, so I wound up watching some of that and being intrigued. But I started with Origins, loved it, and wound up loving and playing all three, all of them with more than one OC, to varying degrees of completion. When it comes to writing fic, I had ideas, like, little comics and some additional fill-in-the-gaps scenes written into notebooks and stuff for all three games. Mostly expanding on the personal relationships and romances, as you do. I'd done that kind of thing for other media I liked, but never really been in "fandom" about it for anything. I've always done creative writing and original fiction as a hobby and it was just a way of getting back into that on a personal level. I wrote the most after finishing DA:I for the second time... I kind of did a playthrough I wasn't super happy with, then made a new character specifically for a romance (Dorian's) then... wasn't super happy with that character either, THEN made Taren who is my current OC obsession, and wrote like 30K words of canon-divergence fic with a whole other OC companion inserted and just had fun with it. I forgot about that until 2020, when I found it in my docs and re-read it and decided it was actually pretty good and that I could maybe try to post online, find community, etc. I've since completely scrapped and deleted that fic from AO3, but getting out there got me into doing writing prompts and writing other stories, and now here I am. (I still haven't actually finished my Taren playthrough. I will before Veilguard lol) I was definitely motivated by COVID, thought I might go insane without community, so I picked a couple things I was already into (writing and dragon age) and went looking.

Dema: I'm guessing most of the art and writing you've done for DA has been DA:I?

Blarghe: Most, yeah. If only because my long fic is a DA:I inspired modern-au. Honestly it's fairly divorced from canon lol. Most of my canon writing is for DA:O actually. And I'm obsessed with Taren, I've drawn him more than anyone ever. He is very pretty, you see.

Dema: He is very, very pretty. Is DA:O your favorite game in the franchise? Everyone hates this question but I GOTTA KNOW hahaha!

Blarghe: Yeah it is! I love them all for different aspects, but it's got that first-game start of the obsession nostalgia. I also love a finicky, strategy-heavy RPG so to me the usual combat complaints aren't really a thing. I like the pause-every-two-seconds combat hahaha. I do really love running around through the scenery in Inquisition though, and I like the characters, and the fun flashy rogue stabbing too. But I have a soft spot for Origins for really gripping you into that story and world. It's a great balance of silly and funny and dark and difficult choices.

Dema: I haven't asked anyone else this yet, but are you finding the Veilguard announcements and previews are refreshing the inspiration? Or are you avoiding all spoilers and pretending it does not exist until the release? Or some secret, third thing…

Blarghe: Somewhere in between. I've been here the whole time lol, I don't know that it hyped me up any more, but it's nice to finally have news. And I'm excited that it will mean new people in the fandom and a resurgence that way. I am not totally avoiding spoilers but still kinda keeping my distance for my own sanity. I'll definitely lock down the spoiler tags once it's actually out.

Dema: So valid. I am feeling very inspired, myself, but I think it may be more the energy of the fandom around me reaching such a fever pitch. We're like a flock of ducks getting a whole loaf of bread after years of crumbs. 

Blarghe: So true haha. I am really excited about how it looks. Can't wait to play it!

Dema: Same! Returning to Taren a bit because, well, he's pretty: you said you went through a few iterations of OCs for a Dorian romance before him, and then were hooked. What is it about Taren that makes him a favorite? Was there a particular inspiration for him?

Blarghe: Oh boy. Not a specific inspiration. I played DA:I three times, counting the Taren one that I'm not technically finished, and the first I completely missed any romance (thought I could get Harding until it was too late) but I loved Dorian's character and his personal arc hit so hard that I immediately made a new character just for him. He was like a sassy Trevelyan who didn't really wanna be there, trying to pull kind of a rogueish charming sarcastic irresponsible pretty boy to hang with Dorian but I really didn't like how that clicked. I know it's a pretty common character archetype esp in a Dorian romance to do sassy x sassy so no hate but I found the Inquisition storyline and dialogue options just wouldn't let me be that irresponsible and funny, which makes sense. I really liked the themes of how the game pushes you into this impossible role where the only thing you can do is become a big responsible hero figure. I'm sure there's a compelling story there for the kind of character I'm talking about, but since mine fell so flat to me I decided to lean the complete opposite way. And Dorian inspired it too. The more I played and considered it the more I felt like I wanted him to have kind of a counterweight romance, you know. Opposites attract kind of thing. So Taren started as this very responsible, serious character who has always been prepared for leadership, being a First, and takes all that really seriously. He's also very Dalish and has reason to distrust and argue with him, which is great for Drama, but very very sweet and genuine and wholesome, which is so fun to contrast with all Dorian's trust issues. Dorian's quite emotional and idealistic, really, so they match in that way and it's very romantic. Taren's also a bit aspirational. Part of why I like Dorian so much is that I relate to him a lot, and I was struggling with trying to become less arrogant and more genuine, so Taren embodies a lot of that for me. Part of what makes him my favourite is probably the blank-slate of it all, too. Not having the Origin and getting to make stuff up. The whole romance plot is really compelling. I stuck him in some AUs and got carried away by worldbuilding, too. And after so much time spent with him he's just the fave now. But yeah, he's not my usual archetype. I think I've made a lot more sarcastic rogues than genuine sweethearts. He has like, anxiety and trust issues and I keep throwing him in situations to give him Trauma, but that sort of, happy, sweet, genuine, and healer-class character was all new ground to me and I wound up just loving the different-ness and challenge of it.

Dema: I did want to tell you that your "This is a story about trauma and relationships and socioeconomics and questioning belief and searching for balance. It's also about finding your soulmate on grindr" summary absolutely sent me.

Blarghe: Thank you, I'm very proud of that.

Dema: Speaking of which, can you come up with a clickbait title for your bang fic?

Blarghe: Something like Tortured Man More Tortured by Having To Endure the Best Week of His Life [[REDACTED]] you can cut that last part because it does make it obvious.

Dema: A+. Thank you for the lovely interview, it's been a treat chatting!

Blarghe: Thanks! It was very fun.

[bengiyo]

Cherry Magic Anime Ep 7 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Adachi reflected on Kurosawa’s confession and finally realized that he likes Kurosawa, too. He ran across the city like his BL/yaoi brethren and confessed to Kurosawa, who has now invited Adachi out to a date. Fujisaki will be pleased. Tsuge also managed to have a proper interaction with Minato and learned his name.

Adachi oversleeping and panicking before his first date feels very on brand.

Kurosawa is creating a music video in his head of their date. I am obsessed with this man.

I kinda like this version of the clothing part of the date. I’m excited to see what Kurosawa chooses for Adachi.

Oh, it’s really cool that the salesperson in the clothing store was thinking about how Kurosawa/Karan wanted to undress Adachi/Achi in both current shows.

Adachi, do not worry about those girls. He’s excited to be on a date with you.

You know, the helicopter being part of the source material makes a lot more sense for Karan’s choice.

This is so fascinating. So it was the Japanese live action that changed the first date to be a practice that went well. In both this adaptation and the Thai one the date doesn’t exactly go well because Adachi and Kursosawa aren’t on the same page.

Interesting! Achi convened with Jinta to get his head back in the game when he decided to tell Kurosawa how he felt about the date. Here, Adachi makes the realization that he needs to verbalize his feelings to Kurosawa.

Kurosawa being so moody that he was vibrating in a gray aura before reverting at Adachi’s presence is good anime comedy.

Adachi taking Kurosawa on a low-stakes date and sharing the things he likes with Kurosawa is the kind of content I’m here for.

Way to come through, Adachi. He’s so correct that people who are building a relationship should do activities they both enjoy together.

This definitely feels like the way Kurosawa and Adachi would go about it. Japanese shows sometimes like to do these conversations a little bit at a time across multiple scenes, whereas Thai dramas will do the conversation in one big scene. I like both approaches.

Alright, Adachi, it’s time to tell my man about your powers.

I continue to love this show, and it’s been really cool seeing where the Japanese live action diverged from the source material, and how this version and the Thai version are actually really close to each other. I like this version of Adachi and Kurosawa a lot, and I love how they feel distinct from Achi and Karan. It’s super cool that both of them are only a few beats away from each other. I think the comparison between both shows has been favorable for both. It’s actually amazing that both active version of Cherry Magic are good and don’t invite unfair or mean comparisons. I think the shows are approaching the character in ways that feel appropriate for the culture, and it’s compelling how many of the events have the same outcomes, with similar results, and yet the way the characters got there feels just different enough that the characters feel separate.

[kaydeefalls]

20 questions for writers

tagged by @lindstromm - thanks! I'm in a bleh mood so a good askmeme is right up my alley at the moment.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

229, which include any fic I've written going back to 2002. About 30 of those works are vids instead.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,518,992! I just passed the 1.5mil mark with my last fic, and am very pleased with that. Especially because I remember only passing the 1mil mark early on in TOG fandom, so I've written quite a lot of those words just in the past few years. (By my standards, at least, that's a lot!)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Many. I am very multifannish at heart. I tend to settle into one primary fandom for a few years at a time, but even then, I'm still writing the occasional oneshot for random other fandoms. Most recent primary fandoms were The Old Guard and X-Men, most recent fic posted was for Heartstopper (and I'll likely linger in that fandom for a bit now that I'm here).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Logical Deduction (HP, Remus/Sirius) - a very silly fic from 2006 that has, to my mild dismay, somehow risen the kudos ranks (6245 kudos?!) by virtue of the sheer enormity of HP fandom. So it goes.

it's like one of us woke up (X-Men, Charles/Erik) - XMFC canon divergence / fix-it fic. I'm still unsure why this is my most popular Cherik fic, but I'm not mad about it.

she's the one that they call old whatsername (Star Trek AOS, Kirk/Spock) - my only non-crossover Trek fic, and always-a-girl!Kirk to boot. I do love this one, still.

The Pond Continuum (Doctor Who, Amy/Rory) - in which Amy and Rory unwittingly encounter various other companions as they live out their post-Doctor life on the slow path. I am fond.

life is very long (Old Guard, Nicky/Joe) - my first TOG fic, posted like a week after the movie hit fandom like a ton of bricks, and reaping the kudos benefits of being in the right place at the right time. It was a good entry point into a new fandom for me, for sure!

I do love that my top 5 are all completely different fandoms; that feels very reflective of me as a writer. (Top 6, actually, since #6 is MCU.)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, always, if only with a quick thanks. Because I really appreciate receiving them, and want the commenters to know.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The angstiest ENDING? I have to dig deeper into the past for those, because I was more prone to writing them when I was much younger. These days, while I do enjoy a bit of angst along the way, I NEED a happy ending. Probably one of my old Remus/Sirius fics, but I'm not going trawling for a link now.

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

Most of them, lately. I need to believe in happiness. Fandom is my escapism from an increasingly grimdark reality.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Very rarely, fortunately. Let's keep it that way. The backbutton is right there if you don't like any of my fics, no hard feelings.

9. Do you write smut?

Not really? Sex scenes, yeah, sometimes, but I've only got 4 fics (out of 229) rated as Explicit, and honestly, glancing over them now, they probably only really warrant an M rating. I have no interest in describing bits and bodily fluids in graphic detail, I don't personally find that sexy. But sex is a significant element of human connection for many folks, so yeah, I'll include it where it feels appropriate.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes, though I prefer fusions (characters from one verse written into another) to more literal crossovers (character A from fandom A meets character B from fandom B). But I've certainly written a few. They're fun!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several! I'm always excited and honored when that happens.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope, never. I'd be curious to try that out someday, though honestly, writing is such a private/internal activity for me that I'm not sure I'd be any good at it.

14. What is your all time favorite ship?

I do NOT play favorites in this way. I love all my OTPs in all their unique and individual ways, and I'll always happily revisit them years and years later (as a reader, at least). Here, let's just say that Mulder/Scully was my very first ever OTP, so they will always have a special place in my heart.

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

I've never abandoned a WIP once I've started posting it (though a couple took YEARS to finish, ugh), so really, now we're just looking at my personal WIP folder in gdocs. There are a few in there I'm sad about leaving unfinished. Um, let's go with an old Doctor Who/Torchwood fic, which I've got like 15k words written for but have long since moved on from. Every few years I'll dig it up and reread what I wrote and quietly mourn the fact that I never finished it, but there's no way I'll ever get back into that particular headspace (and the fandom is a very different place now).

16. What are your writing strengths?

Character voices. I'm a good mimic.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sex scenes/action scenes. I despise writing these. Smut I avoid, but action scenes are sometimes necessary, and they drive me up a fucking wall.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language during a fic?

If it's just a few words/brief phrases sprinkled in, because that's how the character in question would speak, great. If there's extended dialogue - well, still depends on the character POV to me. If the character DOES speak the other language, I'd write it out in English (since that's the language I write fic in) and indicate through the narration that they're actually speaking Italian, or French, or what have you. If the POV character does NOT speak the language themself but is overhearing it, I don't include the dialogue at all, just narration to describe it. It's all about whose POV we're in and what's actually being understood, to me.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

X-Files. You will not find those fics on my AO3. I was very young then.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

NO FAVORITES. TOO MANY FICS. My most recent fic is usually my current favorite, anyway, so have one last plug for and we have all the time in the world (to get it right) if you're into Heartstopper, and let's move on. 😉

No-pressure tagging @andrea-lyn, @knoepfchen, @polarcell and anyone who's in the mood to play!