#i have a whole like story in mind for this scene i wish i was a writer

[bcacstuff]

The clock may be ticking for Outlander on TV, but the story is everlasting for bestselling author Diana Gabaldon, who writes the historical fantasy books (nine and counting!) upon which the show is based. Debuting in 1991, the first Outlander novel has spawned several sequels, spinoff novellas, and ultimately the intense Starz drama that viewers have come to love. With the final episodes on the horizon and new prequel series Blood of My Blood forthcoming, Gabaldon reflects on the show’s end and offers a peek inside her notebook.

What have you been happy to see so far in Season 7?

Diana Gabaldon: One of the things the Outlander production as a whole does really well is battle scenes. We’ve had a certain amount of the [American Revolution’s] Battle of Ticonderoga, the first Battle of Saratoga, and a lot of the second Battle of Saratoga. And I absolutely loved the actor playing Benedict Arnold, Rod Hallett. The casting this season has been spectacular. Every character is just right.

Would you say that Benedict Arnold was the character you were most excited for fans to meet this season?

He is historically fascinating, and I did a lot of research work on him because he plays a large part in more than one of the books. And we’ll see him again in Book 10. His story is very interesting. Everybody knows how his story ends, or at least they think they do. But yes, I was just impressed that, between the script and the actor, they pretty much nailed him and captured his sense of reckless adventure and his charm. Luckily, they used a lot of the book dialogue for it, some of which was taken from things that Benedict Arnold himself said.

With the show set to conclude with Season 8, do you have an ending in mind for Claire and Jamie’s story on the page?

Yes, I have shared the ending scenes with [the creative team]. But as to the actual way the story comes to a conclusion? No, they don’t know that. [Laughs] But we’ll get there. I don’t write in a straight line, and I don’t work with an outline. This is why it takes me several years to write one book — not only the way that I write, which I describe as like playing Tetris in my head, but also just the sheer size and the fact that they are books of a continuing nature.

You’ve shared a few excerpts from your 10th novel in the series. Is there anything else you can tease about it?

Well, I’m still writing it. And I have a title, but I’m not revealing that until we’re a bit closer to publication. I don’t want to rub all the “new” off it. I can tell you that it’s got whales.

You’ve also written Season 2’s “Vengeance Is Mine,” “Journeycake” in Season 5, and the upcoming 14th installment in Season 7. Can we anticipate more scripts from you?

Yeah, it’s so much easier than writing novels. [Laughs] It takes me three weeks tops to write a scene. I will be writing a script for the prequel [Blood of My Blood] and one for Season 8 [of Outlander].

Though only one season has been given the green light, how long do you envision the prequel’s story to be onscreen?

Well, the television version isn’t up to me, but for what it’s worth, I have material for three —  relatively short, as compared to the main Outlander novels — prequel books concerning Jamie’s parents. Blood of My Blood is based on the synopsis of the first of those books.

Apart from the ones you’ve written, are there any episodes you love so much that you wish you had?

Oh, yeah. There’s always at least one per season where I’m thinking, “Oh, this is fabulous.” It would be [Episode 8, “Turning Points”] for Season 7.

Do you have a favorite memory from your times visiting the set?

It would probably be the first season where they invited me to do a cameo [as Iona MacTavish] in Episode 4. It was fascinating being part of the set rather than visiting it. I was a cast member for three days. It was just interesting to see how it all worked.

Were you able to make it to set for Season 8?

God willing, I will be on set for a week or so next month [September 2024]. They’ll be filming the final block, for which I wrote one of the scripts, so I’d like to see a bit of it live. The last time I was on set for a prolonged period — as opposed to drop-in visits — was for Season 2’s “Vengeance Is Mine.” The food from craft services was always excellent, so I’m hoping to have a toastie, and I’m looking forward to seeing good friends.

How have the main cast’s performances surpassed what you envisioned on the page?

Sam Heughan does a fantastic job with Jamie, and Caitríona [Balfe], while she doesn’t look like the Claire of the books, certainly acts like her and is totally immersive in her character. I’ve [never] seen a bad performance by anyone at any level.

What will you miss most about the show?

I’ll miss the entertainment value of seeing dailies five nights a week, but otherwise, I’m not troubled. The end of a great adventure is always a bit traumatic and nostalgic — but it does leave you with a feeling of specialness, accomplishment, of having been part of a great endeavor. And they do live in my head, you know…

Are there more stories in this universe that you still wish to explore?

There’s always more I could write. Making the optimistic assumption that I’m going to live long enough, I have notes for [time traveler] Master Ray-Mond’s book (no title on that one yet) and for another [about Claire’s first husband, Frank], titled What Frank Knew.

Will you feel sad saying goodbye to Jamie and Claire?

I really don’t think I will — the main books are written with a lot of lacunae — spaces where we move from one block of story to another, leaving a hiatus of months (or sometimes years) in someone’s life. I can, should I want to, always go back to one of those places and write what happened while everyone was looking somewhere else.

Outlander, Season 7B, Fridays, 8/7c, Starz (Midnight on the Starz App and On Demand)

This is an excerpt from TV Guide Magazine’s Outlander: Claire & Jamie’s Love Story For The Ages issue. For a deep-dive into the historical romance, scoop on the second half of Season 7, and details on the upcoming prequel, pick up a copy of the issue available on newsstands and for order online at Outlander2024.com.

Article posted 29 November 2024

[capquinn]

can we get a blurb about quinn telling his parents he’s gonna be a dad, pretty pretty please???? i feel like he’d be nervous to tell them but also bursting at the seams wanting them to know. it’s probably hard for him being so far away for most of the year, that he wants them to be involved as much as they can, but he’d also want to respect his partner’s wishes if she wanted to wait to tell people until she was further along in case something happened

The decision about when to tell Quinn’s family about the baby over Thanksgiving weekend had been made weeks ago, but actually doing it was proving to be a whole different story.

For Quinn, the excitement of telling them had been almost overwhelming at first, a buzz of energy thrumming beneath his skin every time he thought about the moment. He could picture their reactions so clearly: Ellen’s face lighting up with joy and then tears, Jim’s steady pride breaking into a wide grin. He’d played it over in his mind again and again, letting the thought carry him through the quiet moments of doubt.

But now, as the reality of actually saying the words settled in, the nerves crept in too. It wasn’t that he doubted their reaction — they would be thrilled, he knew that. They adored him, a love larger than life itself, their pride woven into every word they spoke about him. A love so steadfast it felt unshakable. And over the years, that same love had effortlessly extended to you, not just welcoming you into their family but embracing you as if you’d always been a part of it.

However, the weight of the moment, of what it symbolised, suddenly felt heavier. This wasn’t just a fleeting piece of good news to share. It was life-changing, not just for him and you, but for them as well. They were about to become grandparents, stepping into a new chapter of their lives, and he couldn’t shake the pressure of wanting the moment to be perfect.

The confidence he’d carried on the flight home for the weekend was slipping, giving way to a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite name. He’d been eager, almost impatient, to share the news, to feel the weight of it lifted and replaced with their joy, their pride, their unwavering support. He wanted them to share in the excitement, to feel connected to this life-changing moment despite the physical miles that often separate them. He needed them to know that their place in this new chapter, as grandparents, was as important to him as the one he was stepping into.

But now, standing on the brink of saying it aloud, a sudden wave of nerves hit him, sharp and unexpected. The enormity of it all — the love, the hope, the vulnerability wrapped in the words — made his throat tighten.

It wasn’t just an announcement. It was a shift, one that would ripple out and reshape everything. Parenthood, after all, was still something the two of you were learning to grasp.

The first evening back home unfolded in the warm glow of Ellen’s kitchen, the scent of roast chicken and fresh-baked bread filling the air. The house alive with warmth — the crackle of the fireplace, the low hum of laughter, and the familiar cadence of Jim’s voice as he spun a tale about the neighbour’s runaway tractor. He gestured animatedly, earning chuckles and interjections from Ellen, who corrected him at every exaggerated turn. It’s a familiar, comforting scene — the kind of moment Quinn usually soaks in without a second thought.

But tonight, his mind is a thousand miles away.

You can feel the tension humming beneath his relaxed posture, the subtle way his fingers tighten around yours every few minutes, like he’s trying to ground himself. His gaze keeps darting to his parents — catching the glint of Ellen’s wedding band as she leans forward in her chair, the crinkle of Jim’s eyes as he laughs at his own joke.

He wants to tell them. You can see it in the way his lips press together, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate breath as though he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

We’re having a baby.

It’s right there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the perfect moment. 

Quinn shifts in his seat, his free hand sliding up to rub the back of his neck as he leans forward slightly. You can feel the faint tremor in his grip as he laces his fingers tighter with yours, like he’s steadying himself for something big.

Jim’s voice carries on in the background, the rich cadence of his story weaving effortlessly with Ellen’s laughter, but Quinn’s focus isn’t there anymore. His gaze is fixed on the table, the firelight catching in his eyes as he takes a deep, deliberate breath.

You recognise the signs immediately. The way his shoulders draw back just slightly, the faint movement of his lips like he’s practicing the words in his head. It’s coming — you can feel it in the subtle shift of his energy, the way his knee bounces once under the table before he stills it with a hand.

He glances at you, and in the flicker of his gaze, you see everything — the love, the nerves, the overwhelming weight of what he wants to say. 

Your expression softens, and you give his hand a gentle squeeze, a quiet I’m here. You’ve got this.

Quinn swallows, his throat working against the knot of emotion rising there. 

“So, uh,” he starts, his voice low and hesitant, barely cutting through the warmth of the room.

Ellen turns toward him, her smile easy and expectant, and Jim sets his drink down, his brows lifting in quiet curiosity.

It’s right there. The words are sitting at the edge of his lips, just waiting to fall out. We’re having a baby.

But they don’t.

Quinn falters, his mouth opening slightly before he closes it again, his jaw tightening as he drops his gaze to his lap. His hand squeezes yours, and the quiet pressure feels like an apology.

Ellen’s eyes flit between the two of you, a flicker of concern crossing her face. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” she asks gently, her voice laced with the kind of maternal intuition that always catches him off guard.

He looks up at her, his lips curving into a faint, practiced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Nothing,” he says softly, shaking his head. “Just... it’s good to be home. That’s all.”

You watch as Ellen’s concern melts into warmth, her smile returning as she reaches over to squeeze his arm affectionately. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here, too,” she says simply, her love for him evident in every word.

Quinn nods, his gaze falling back to his lap, and you can see the frustration flickering just beneath the surface. He’s upset with himself — not because he doesn’t want to tell them, but because he does. Desperately. He just… can’t.

You lean into him slightly, your shoulder brushing his, and when he looks at you, you offer the smallest smile. He exhales slowly, his grip on your hand relaxing just a bit, and when Jim launches into another story, the tension eases from Quinn’s shoulders — if only for a moment.

The second opportunity comes the next morning, when the day feels impossibly slow and golden, like it’s giving Quinn every chance in the world to speak up. The two of you lie in bed longer than usual, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as you talk quietly, voices still hushed with sleep.

“We can’t leave without telling them,” Quinn says suddenly, his voice quiet but resolute, like the realisation is finally settling in. His gaze is fixed somewhere on the ceiling, his brow furrowed in thought, the weight of his words pulling his shoulders just a little tighter. “I just… I want to do it right, you know?”

“I get it,” you reply, turning your head to look at him. His profile is soft in the morning light, his jaw flexing slightly as he wrestles with the thought. “You want it to feel special.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a faint, almost sheepish smile. “Exactly. And every time I think about actually saying it, I freeze. Like, what if I screw it up and it’s not as perfect as I want it to be?”

You can’t help the way your heart squeezes a little at the vulnerability in his voice, the honesty of it catching you off guard in the best way. Sliding a little closer, you prop yourself up on one elbow, your hand brushing lightly against his arm. The movement pulls his attention, and for a moment, his eyes flicker to yours before settling back on the ceiling.

“Quinn,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection, “they’re going to love it. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you.”

He doesn’t respond right away, the words settling over him like a quiet balm. His jaw flexes again as he chews on your reassurance, his hand absently dropping to your abdomen. It’s such a natural gesture, like he doesn’t even realise he’s done it, his palm curving gently over the barely-there swell. 

The corners of his lips twitch, like he’s debating whether to believe you. Then he lets out a soft laugh, low and self-deprecating, his free hand coming up to rake through his already-messy hair.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is easy,” you insist, squeezing his arm lightly, your gaze steady on him. “It’s you, Quinn. They’re going to be over the moon no matter how or when you tell them.”

His eyes flick to yours then, something unspoken passing between you — a quiet thank you, maybe, or just an acknowledgment that he’s holding onto your words a little tighter than he lets on. His thumb brushes a slow, thoughtful circle against your skin, and you can feel the tension in his shoulders ease, if only just a little.

“Don’t worry, you’ll tell them today,” you murmur. There’s a quiet encouragement in your voice, a steady belief that seems to seep right into him. Your fingers trace lazy circles over the back of his hand where it rests on your belly.

Quinn nods, his lips twitching into a small, tentative smile. It’s not the full-blown confidence he probably wishes he had, but it’s something — a flicker of determination breaking through the haze of nerves.

“Yeah,” he says softly, the single word carrying more resolve than hesitation. “I will.”

He sounds ready. You believe him. So does he.

And so the morning unfolds beautifully. Ellen, with her usual warmth and efficiency, packs coffee and snacks into a little canvas bag, insisting with a bright smile that everyone take advantage of the clear weather to walk the trails. There’s a lightness to her tone, a sense of simple joy that seems to catch on everyone as they prepare to head out.

Out in the forest, the world feels peaceful, quiet but alive. The rustle of leaves underfoot mingles with the occasional chirp of a bird or the soft swish of wind through the trees. The trail is dappled with sunlight, patches of golden light breaking through the canopy above. Quinn walks beside you, his shoulder bumping yours every now and then as the two of you amble along.

He’s quiet at first, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, but there’s a softness to him that doesn’t feel like nervousness — it feels like he’s soaking it all in. The crisp air, the sound of his parents chatting a few paces ahead, the steady rhythm of your steps beside him.

“You good?” you ask softly, nudging him with your elbow. Your breath fogs slightly in the cool air, and he glances over at you, his lips quirking into a small smile.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low but steady. And for a while, it feels like he means it.

At the overlook at the end of the trail that feels perfect, too. The sunlight glints off the trees, the breeze is cool and gentle, and his parents are close, their laughter light as Ellen unpacks the thermos of coffee. You can feel the moment hanging there, just waiting for Quinn to take it.

He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles. You glance up at him, catching the way his jaw tightens just slightly, his lips pressing together like he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

“Now’s a good time,” you say softly, tilting your head toward him. Your voice is quiet, meant just for him, but there’s an encouragement in it that you hope will nudge him past whatever’s holding him back.

Quinn nods, his shoulders straightening a little as he draws in a breath. 

His gaze flicks over to his parents, who are standing a few feet away, cups of steaming coffee in their hands as they admire the view. They’re relaxed, happy. Completely unsuspecting.

For a moment, it feels like he’s going to do it. He takes a step forward, clearing his throat softly, and both Ellen and Jim glance over at him. 

“What is it, Quinn?” Ellen asks, her voice warm, a smile playing on her lips.

You watch as Quinn’s hand flexes at his side, his fingers twitching like he’s trying to grab hold of the words before they slip away. 

“I—” he starts, but then his gaze falters, dropping to the ground for a fraction of a second. He hesitates, just long enough for the nerves to creep in.

Jim’s brow lifts slightly, his smile curious. “Everything okay?”

Quinn freezes, his jaw working as if he’s wrestling with the weight of the moment. You see the exact second he decides against it — the subtle shift in his stance, the way his eyes dart back to the view like he’s searching for an escape.

“Yeah,” he says finally, his voice low but steady. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

There’s a beat of quiet, and then Ellen laughs lightly, her attention shifting back to her cup. 

“Good,” she says, clearly not noticing the undercurrent of tension. “Come have some coffee before it gets cold.”

Jim watches Quinn for a second longer, his gaze thoughtful, but he doesn’t press. He just claps a hand on Quinn’s shoulder as he passes, squeezing lightly. 

Quinn exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging just slightly as he turns back to you. His lips twitch into a faint, sheepish smile, and he shrugs like he’s trying to laugh it off. But you know him too well to buy it.

You don’t say anything, just lean into his side a little, the warmth of him grounding in a way words wouldn’t be.

“Just… not yet,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost like he’s saying it to himself more than to you.

You nod, giving his hand another squeeze, a quiet reassurance passing between you. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice just as soft. “You’ll know when the time’s right.”

He breathes out slowly, his gaze flickering back to the view for a moment before settling on his parents again. And even though the moment passes, and the group begins to move again, their laughter breaking through the quiet hum of the forest, you can feel it. The way his hand tightens slightly around yours. The way his shoulders stay just a little too tense as you walk.

He’s still building up to it, you know that. But he’s getting closer.

Back at the house, the moment arises again, this time while everyone is lounging in the living room after lunch. Quinn sits beside you on the couch, one hand cradling his coffee mug, the other resting on your thigh. His parents are across from you, their chairs pulled close to the fire, and the warmth of the room feels almost tangible, a gentle weight of familiarity and love.

He’s relaxed now, leaning back into the cushions, his gaze sweeping over the room like he’s soaking it all in. His hand tightens slightly on your leg, and you glance at him, catching the way his eyes flicker with something you recognise — nerves, anticipation, resolve.

Ellen catches his eye and smiles, tilting her head slightly. “What’s on your mind, Quinn? You’ve been out of sorts today.”

Your heart skips, and you sit up just slightly, willing him forward with the quiet encouragement in your expression. 

This is it. He’s going to say it. You can feel it.

He clears his throat, straightening a little. “Just... uh,” he starts, his voice steady but hesitant. He glances at you, then back at his mom, and his lips twitch into a small, uncertain smile. “Just thinking how I’m gonna miss this when we leave,” he finishes, his tone light but not entirely convincing.

Your shoulders relax, a mix of understanding and disappointment flooding you as you press your knee gently against his. Quinn glances at you, his jaw tightening as he picks up on your unspoken it’s okay. Next time.

Ellen smiles warmly, tilting her head in that soft, motherly way. “It’s not long until Christmas,” she reminds him, though her voice carries a faint wistfulness, like she’s reminding herself too.

Quinn nods. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Not long.”

The following morning unfolds in the quiet, unhurried way that comes after a weekend of family time, everyone savouring these last hours together. The kitchen is warm and familiar, filled with the smell of coffee and the soft sounds of Ellen moving around, flipping pancakes on the griddle. Jim leans against the counter by the sink, drying dishes, while you’re perched on a stool at the island, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Quinn stands a little apart, leaned back against the counter with a piece of toast in hand, his damp hair sticking up in every direction, evidence of a quick shower.

The conversation drifts easily — something about Jim’s plans for the yard that afternoon, Ellen’s pancake technique, a joke about Luke’s questionable cooking skills. But Quinn is quiet, and not in the usual, thoughtful way. His eyes flick between his parents, to you, and back again, a pattern he’s been repeating all weekend. You know he’s been carrying the weight of the news, the excitement and nerves tangling together, keeping him from saying it despite countless opportunities.

And then, just like that, it happens.

“We have something to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but quiet enough that it cuts through the easy flow of conversation. 

The kitchen stills, all eyes turning toward him. Ellen pauses mid-flip, the spatula poised over the griddle, while Jim straightens from his spot near the sink, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What is it?” Ellen asks, her voice soft but expectant, her gaze darting between you both.

Quinn shifts slightly, his toast forgotten on the counter behind him. His hand brushes over the back of his neck, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to back out again, if the nerves will win one last time. 

But then he glances at you, his expression searching, and you nod gently, giving him the encouragement he’s been looking for.

“We’re having a baby,” he says, the words tumbling out in a rush but steady, sure. His voice catches just slightly at the end, but his eyes stay locked on his parents, watching as the meaning sinks in.

For a moment, the room is silent. Ellen stares at him, her eyes wide and unblinking, her hand coming up to her mouth. Jim’s towel stills mid-fold in his hands, his gaze flicking to you as if for confirmation. And then Ellen gasps — a sound so full of joy and disbelief it feels like it fills the entire room.

“Oh my God,” Ellen whispers, her voice trembling as her hand covers her mouth. Her eyes dart between Quinn and you, wide and shimmering with emotion. “A baby? You’re having a baby?” She looks at you then, as if she needs your confirmation to believe it’s true.

Quinn nods, and the soft, tentative smile that had been tugging at his lips finally breaks free. It spreads wide, unstoppable, lighting up his entire face. 

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low and steady but filled with something raw and achingly real. “We’re having a baby.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world feels suspended, as if the house itself is holding its breath. Then Ellen moves, her emotions bursting forth as she crosses the kitchen in a blur, her arms outstretched. She pulls Quinn into a fierce hug, her laugh bubbling up through a flood of tears.

“Oh, Quinn,” she says, her voice breaking with joy. “A baby. My baby’s having a baby.” Her hands cradle his face for a moment before she hugs him again, tighter this time, as if she can pour every ounce of love she feels into him.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around her as his chin rests against the top of her head. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

When Ellen pulls back, her focus shifts immediately to you. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, rounding the island with tears streaming down her face. “A baby. Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She pulls you into a tight hug, her warmth and joy washing over you in waves. “You’re going to be incredible parents. Both of you.”

Jim moves forward more slowly, his hand landing firmly on Quinn’s shoulder as a wide smile spreads across his face. 

“This is incredible news, son,” he says, his voice steady but with an unmistakable quiver of emotion. “Congratulations. To both of you.”

Quinn exhales then, properly exhales, like the weight of all his nerves and hesitations has finally lifted. 

For the rest of the morning, the kitchen hums with joy. Ellen flits between the stove and you, her emotions spilling over every time she catches Quinn’s eye. She can’t seem to stop smiling, crying, or imagining the tiny new addition to the family. 

“How have you been feeling?” she asks, her eyes searching yours with a mother’s concern. “If you need anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

Her hand briefly brushes over your arm, the gesture warm and reassuring, and you nod, assuring her that you’ve been well, that Quinn has been attentive, that everything is as it should be. It’s impossible not to smile at the way her joy bubbles over, filling every corner of the kitchen like sunlight.

Quinn, for his part, has shed every trace of hesitation. He talks easily now, the nerves replaced by an earnest kind of excitement. He shares the small details — the due date, how you found out, how ready the two of you feel — and every word seems to deepen the pride in Jim’s expression. He stands quietly nearby, his presence grounding and constant, his smile unwavering.

When it’s finally time to leave, the hugs linger. Ellen pulls Quinn close, whispering something through her tears before letting him go to hold you just as tightly. Jim’s hand finds Quinn’s shoulder again, squeezing it once in a way that says everything without words. There’s an unspoken promise in their goodbyes, a warmth that stays even as the front door closes behind you.

Quinn doesn’t say much as he helps you into the car, his hand brushing over your back as he opens the door. But as he settles into the driver’s seat, he glances back at the house one last time, his expression soft, a little dazed. When he turns to you, his smile is quiet, content, the kind that makes your heart ache in the best way. 

As you drive away, the crisp Michigan air shifting through the windows, his hand finds yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in that familiar, absent minded way, and you realise that for the first time all weekend, there’s nothing holding him back. The weight is gone, replaced by something steadier — joy, contentment, and the simple knowledge that everything is exactly as it should be.

[canaryyello-art]

FIDDLESTAN IS MAKING ME INSANE SOMEONE SAVE ME!!!!!! (HIIII FIDDLESTAN NATION)

[sonknuxadow]

they werent lying that knuckles series barely has knuckles in it

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[jonnywaistcoat]

What’s your opinion on the contrast between “silly” and “serious” spaces? Do you think people can have very serious interpretations about a genuine piece of media and also be goofy about it? I’m asking this particularly because I’ve seen people in the Magnus podcast fandoms fight about people “misinterpreting” characters you, Alex, and the many other authors have written. Are you okay with the blorbofication or do you really wish the media you’ve written would be “taken seriously” 100% of the time?

And follow up question, what do you think about the whole “it’s up to the reader (or in some cases, listener) to make their own conclusions and interpretations and that does not make them wrong”, versus the “it was written this way because the author intended it this way, and we should respect that” argument?

This is a question I've given a lot of thought over the years, to the point where I don't know how much I can respond without it becoming a literal essay. But I'll try.

My main principle for this stuff boils roughly down to: "The only incorrect way to respond to art is to try and police the responses of others." Art is an intensely subjective, personal thing, and I think a lot of online spaces that engage with media are somewhat antithetical to what is, to me, a key part of it, which is sitting alone with your response to a story, a character, a scene or an image and allowing yourself to explore it's effect on you. To feel your feelings and think about them in relation to the text.

Now, this is not to say that jokes and goofiness about a piece of art aren't fucking great. I love to watch The Thing and drink in the vibes or arctic desolation and paranoia, or think about the picture it paints of masculinity as a sublimely lonely thing where the most terrible threat is that of an imposed, alien intimacy. And that actually makes me laugh even more the jokey shitpost "Do you think the guys in The Thing ever explored each other's bodies? Yeah but watch out". Silly and serious don't have to be in opposition, and I often find the best jokes about a piece of media come from those who have really engaged with it.

And in terms of interpreting characters? Interpreting and responding to fictional characters is one of the key functions of stories. They're not real people, there is no objective truth to who they are or what they do or why they do it. They are artificial constructs and the life they are given is given by you, the reader/listener/viewer, etc. Your interpetation of them can't be wrong, because your interpretation of them is all that there is, they have no existence outside of that.

And obviously your interpretation will be different to other people's, because your brain, your life, your associations - the building blocks from which the voices you hear on a podcast become realised people in your mind - are entirely your own. Thus you cannot say anyone else's is wrong. You can say "That's not how it came across to me" or "I have a very different reading of that character", but that's it. I suppose if someone is fundamentally missing something (like saying "x character would never use violence" when x character strangles a man to death in chapter 4) you could say "I think that's a significant misreading of the text", but that's only to be reserved for if you have the evidence to back it up and are feeling really savage.

I think this is one of the things that saddens me a bit about some aspects of fandom culture - it has a tendency to police or standardise responses or interpretations, turning them from personal experiences to be explored into public takes to be argued over. It also has the occasional moralistic strain, and if there's one thing I wish I could carve in stone on every fan space it's that Your Responses to a Piece of Art Carry No Intrinsic Moral Weight.

As for authorial intention, that's a simpler one: who gives a shit? Even the author doesn't know their own intentions half the time. There is intentionality there, of course, but often it's a chaotic and shifting mix of theme and story and character which rarely sticks in the mind in the exact form it had during writing. If you ask me what my intention was in a scene from five years ago, I'll give you an answer, but it will be my own current interpretation of a half-remembered thing, altered and warped by my own changing relationship to the work and five years of consideration and change within myself. Or I might not remember at all and just have a guess. And I'm a best case scenario because I'm still alive. Thinking about a writers possible or stated intentions is interesting and can often lead to some compelling discussion or examination, but to try and hold it up as any sort of "truth" is, to my mind, deeply misguided.

Authorial statements can provide interesting context to a work, or suggest possible readings, but they have no actual transformative effect on the text. If an author says of a book that they always imagined y character being black, despite it never being mentioned in the text, that's interesting - what happens if we read that character as black? How does it change our responses to the that character actions and position? How does it affect the wider themes and story? It doesn't, however, actually make y character black because in the text itself their race remains nonspecific. The author lost the ability to make that change the moment it was published. It's not solely theirs anymore.

So yeah, that was a fuckin essay. In conclusion, serious and silly are both good, but serious does not mean yelling at other people about "misinterpretations", it means sitting with your personal explorations of a piece of art. All interpretations are valid unless they've legitimately missed a major part of the text (and even then they're still valid interpretations of whatever incomplete or odd version of the text exists inside that person's brain). Authorial intent is interesting to think about but ultimately unknowable, untrustworthy and certainly not a source of truth. Phew.

Oh, and blorbofication is fine, though it does to my mind sometimes pair with a certain shallowness to one's exploration of the work in question.

[a-darling-thing]

Like I 100% appreciate why so many people wish they could hug Astarion right after he finally stops the ritual, kills Cazador and takes back his freedom, but as someone who has been through some shit ™ l honestly think the way the game decided to handle that was right.

When you are in that really delicate phase of coming out the back side of a chronic abuse situation and you have just had to face down your abuser (and almost been revictimized), and your nervous system is that keyed up, a hug is like the last thing you need.

I mean the poor guy has just stabbed Cazador like 20 times in a frenzied fit of grief and rage and is still standing there covered in his blood, sobbing in relief, and in a complete daze. He’s talking by the time you leave the palace, but he’s clearly not ok (thanks again for your stunning voice work Neil Newbon).

I would personally feel like a hug was something I just had to endure to make the other person happy. I think Astarion would probably snappishly draw a firm boundary, with one of his terse ‘don’t touch me.’s, cause he’s actually pretty good at that. But still…. Why make him have to muster the energy for that after everything he’s just been through. The hugs can come later.

In reality the hugs would probably come days, weeks or months later, but like ‘game pacing’, so I think having that gap of time where Astarion gets to talk to Tav about it all before the graveyard scene, hit a happy balance that gave at least the impression of the passage of time and that he had begun to process it all.

I do actually agree with others that have said him proposing sex with Tav that soon after the whole business also seems unrealistic, but again, the writers had to pace his full story to fit within the timeframe of the game, and I felt they did alright given those constraints.

This is all personal opinion, mind, and opinions may differ, but I like how they handled it.

[crepezinhos]

POV: They heard you talking dirty about them

He just wanted to help you unpack and place the things you had brought to your new home, but instead, met you telling to another friend in the kitchen, who was helping too, how you would easily let him fuck you after being so kind and helpful to you, and that you had a growing crush on him. He stood there for some good minutes, clueless about what he should do now, before deciding to simply continue his job there and never tell you that he heard what you said about him.

It did not work, in fact, it worsened. Now that he knew about such private secrets of a person he crushed on, he couldn’t interact with you for more than a minute before his own intrusive, pornographic thoughts about you and the things you said made his cheeks glow bright red. Of course you noticed the sudden change in behavior and went to talk to him about it, thinking that he was mad at you, and it took you five variantions of “What’s wrong?” before he finally turned to you and vomited everything out, not only the incident but also his feelings towards you. Now you two couldn’t stand each other’s presence and wanted to simply walk away in opposite directions like that moment never happened, but you had to apologize to him and he had a confession to make.

“So, hum… arewegonnadoanythingaboutit..?” He asked as quick and low as he could, really afraid of your rejection, although he had in mind you two shared the same kind of feelings to each other.

Itto, Xiao, Gorou

You and him have always had a very platonic relationship, even if you weren’t somehow brothers or emotionally connected, which always made your friends wonder if any of you crushed on each other. Now, as you and two of your common friends waited for him and the rest of guests to arrive at the private party in a bar, they decided to pull the topic up, but the slight effects of the few sips of alcohol you drank made you all of you turn into sex pests in minutes. Now there you were, describing how you would probably choke on his ‘fat cock’ as he called you a ‘good girl’ alongside with noises of you pretending to suck and choke on him as your friends cackled to death and him behind the door of the room with his beer in hands, trying to wait for a perfect moment to barge in and scare everyone.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he isn’t malicious, but it would be so fun to play with your innocence and see your face of realization when you found out that he heard that conversation. His plan of slowly giving you hints started in that same party by making slight remarks on the fact that he had been waiting behind that door for some long minutes to make his arrival scary, but you didn’t get that, or any other hint at all. After almost a week wishing for his plan to work while he lusted for intimacy with you, as you walked together to his apartment in the building, he finally decided to give the most obvious hint ever of it, by telling you a story of how ‘he heard 3 girls talk about how one of them liked this another friend in common and how they talked about many weird topics such as oral sex in a very loud tone’. You froze in place, realizing that all random, contextless remarks of him were referencing to that moment, and now it was your turn to talk since he finalized his story asking your opinion about it. He kept smirking the entire time, and the more embarrassed you seemed, the bigger his smirk was. You started apologizing in a state of panic, trying your best not to scream while you waved your hands and head and telling that it was just a joke and that it shouldn’t be serious at all, but he knows you’re just embarrassed and watched the whole scene quietly.

“Really..? Dang it… I was really getting so interested in the girl doing the ‘gulp gulp’ noises. Pfft… haha..! I’m just kidding, Y/N, I’m not offended by that at all, in fact I am actually delighted… Wanna come in and solve this matter like two adults?” He flirts while walking up to you and pulling out the keys to his apartment since you two were already at his door.

Kaeya, Kazuha Zhongli, Ayato, Thoma, Sethos, Wriothesley

Don’t ask why, but he really just wanted to make a surprise in your birthday, knowing that you were probably going to react the way he wanted you yo. He sneaked into your dorm with some others friends in common when you texted them you’d be home in five minutes, and hid behind your sofa with his confetti popper and gift in hands, prepared to explode it. He and everyone else kept very quiet when he heard you arriving, but he wasn’t expecting to hear another friend of yours coming in too. That person want involved in the prank at all, and since he was the leader of that surprise, he whispered commands to everyone, making everyone get back at their spots. Unexpectedly, the topic of the conversation changed into him and what you liked most about him. You initially described he was a very nice person and that you thought he dressed well, but surprisingly, you decided to specifically tell about how his eyes were sexy and always caught your attention. Your friend, interested in what she heard, kept the conversation going by spicing it, and the next thing you said was how making eye contact with him during sex would make your orgasm come faster. Everyone’s jaw was dropped, although they recognized your tone was ironic, including you after they revealed themselves very suddenly.

After that moment of shock and happiness, the first thing he did was walk up to you when he saw you lonely with his arms crossed in much confidence, who and self-stern.

“Wow… between all the parts in my body that could make you cum faster, what turns you on are my eyes?! Such a lame answer… I was expecting more, I must say.” He joked as he stood beside you and leaned against the wall, which made you finally panic in embarrassment as you apologized non-stop.

He would never ever tell anyone that he had to hide a slight, increasing boner in his pants during that entire surprise party.

Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Heizou, Cyno

It was midnight and he was trying to sleep, but he kept failing since the noises coming from all the girls in your dorm didn’t allow him to relax. You were doing a girl’s night in your dorm, a silly sleepover, and he was hating every bit of it as he switched his position for the hundredth time. But as soon as he heard one of your many visitors mention him and ask you about him, his eyes opened. He might be a frank, honest, cold soul, but come on… who doesn’t like to at least know what other people thought of you?

Well, since everyone except you, thought of him as a weird, rude, creepy man… they started making questions about how would he possibly fuck a pussy. The majority of girls thought he would need lessons before doing it, some thought that he was just an average fucker, but some few, including you, thought he might actually be good at it. Most girls didn’t understand why, so you described how you thought he probably has some sort of weird kink that most people don’t like, so he has to hide it, but might’ve actually made many girls see heaven. Then… you started to scene a weird role-play sex scenario of a tutor and his student by asking easy math questions, like he was the one saying it, then tuning your voice to a girly one answer the question, which made you suddenly clap your hands and go back to the manly voice to say ‘Wrong!’ and some punishment orders, making all your friends cackle like a group of hyenas.

“Ew.” That was all he thought.

He was so shocked and disgusted with the absurdity of the conversation that he decided to get up and go to your door to ask for a better silence. Luckily, you were the one to answer it, and as he described that he couldn’t sleep because of the volume, he mentioned that he could hear every single word coming out of everyone’s mouth through those thin walls, which obviously made you internally worried. After that, all he mostly heard was some dirty jokes about ‘punishing Y/N in bed after disturbing the hot nerd’s sleep’ and giggles, then silence took in. He sighed as he laid down again and closed his eyes, knowing that his attempts to sleep would better, but now… his mind was the problem. Those suggestions of role-play sex between him as a tutor, and you as a mere student was keeping his mind more awake than before. Slapping your buttocks whenever you got a wrong answer doesn’t seem like a bad idea to make someone as stupid as you focus, but then he gives up on that excitement because he’s the kind of person who’ll try his best to do it only with someone who truly deserves it and despises kinks.

But why is his mind filling him with the most pornographic imagery of you ever..? He can even feel his tip slightly touching the sheets, like his mind is keeping him awake to get rid of that need for sex… but he’ll never ever reduce himself to those animalistic thoughts.

“God, no, why am I even thinking about this kind of stuff..?!” He asked to himself, switching his position in the bed for the fifth time.

Maybe he doesn’t hate kinks, he has never tried one anyways, but his ego doesn’t want to live with the fact that for once in your life, you predicted something correctly about him despite his intelligence and awareness of intimacy or identity.

Diluc, Wanderer, Albedo, Tighnari, Neuvillette, Al Haitham

Taglist: @alatusorrow @kindofshyent @kindofscenic @the-stinky-winky

(More silly thoughts cuz why not 🙏)

[redcherrykook]

──── ⊱ ☆ ⊰ Evidence of a criminal bond- part one

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

enemies to lovers at the detectives office

Jeon Jungkook has been your annoying coworker at the detective´s office for what feels like ages. What happens when he gets assigned as your partner against crime for seouls´s ongoing case of the masked serial killer? Will a vulcano and a tornado manage to find peace in each others chaos, while trying to catch the person responsible for the horror unleashed upon the nation?

content warning: please keep in mind this au revolves around the job as a criminal detective, therefore dealing with darker topics, including sensitive topics such as SA, m^rder, assault, robbery, blackmail, sex work, trauma, therapy.

A large portion of this work is fiction, while some aspects also have valid foundations in actual crime cases as well as psychologically related crime studies and research

further content: slow burn, angst, misunderstandings, comfort, eventual smut, trying to work it out for each other, a lot of plot/work focus, side characters such as officer Kim Namjoon and criminal psychologist Park Jimin, good ending

no taglist! - sorry for misspellings and typos!!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

6:53 am

Static buzzing sounds around the entire office, a hasty jog through the chattered people and with a slam of your big leather bag to your slightly decorated desk, finally, you arrive at work.

the ordinary, bustling with people in cool blazers and coffes, couple cops and a large story board cluttered with red marker and pictures, at least that's what the countless shows make it out to be,

it wasn't like that in real life

While, surely, there are an array of different people having serious conversations, while there may the occasional cop visit, this whole, rushed overly analyzed office doesn't come close to your neat workspace.

Days mostly consist of reading through the piles upon piles of boring paperwork left by your superiors and attorneys, or investigating some string of robberies that are operated by biker gangs,

Some prostitution rings disguised as karaoke bars or massage parlors,

Nothing like a serial killer, no nothing even close has hit your very own, very organized desk in the span of your bloomed carreer

In fact, seoul hasn't seen an unpleasant visitor like that in 30 long years, three full decades

Wind rushes through the heated room as a window opens down the hall, most likely in an effort to flush out the stress that spans throughout the people- yesterdays events have left the investigation sleepless, having seen the on scene cops and crime scene investigators while passing through the door,

It was fairly easy to tell who it was,

a souless, empty glaze clouds their colorful irises- dark, deep circles making it clear that these people were there when it happened

"What the fuck did you do Hwang?"

your head shoots up, locking eyes with someone you did not wish to see right when starting your shift- with the entire department working on a serial killer case, irritated and occupied with following a majority baseless leads- the last thing you need is him.

"Thats quite the different tone from yesterday Jeon"

he scoffs, cocking his head while pushing his hands deeper into the pockets of his darkwash jeans

"Yeah? Well i called you and-" he sighs, "Explicitly told you not to take the case didn't I?" you nod, irritated at his obvious anger that you knew you had absolutely no business in,

you didn't take the case, hell, you had just arrived at the office

"look, it's too early to blame your issues on me-"

"Blame?" the disbelief in his tone messes with your already risen cortisol, only deepening the wrinkles of your frown, probably prolonging the sprouting of grey hair on your scalp.

"Hwang? Jeon? You already received the order?"

The monotone voice of your superior, also known as chief, makes both of your heads turn to face him in all his pale, 6'2" middle aged glory, the suddeness creating a small Oasis of peace between the two of you, stopping your petty argument for a bit

You had now wished that this blatant, confusing misunderstanding will be easily dissolved,

"There must have been a mix up" he states, his face curling into the typical shit eating grin that is etched into his features, like clockwork, it always appeared whenever he thought he was in the right.

the bubble of hope bursts in a split second, stabbed in full force

"As partners?" you blurt out, eyes practically bulging from your skull, the absurd implication of being Jungkook's partner makes your chief sigh, nodding his head in something you can only label disappointment

"Yes. I deem both of you as highly qualified, young individuals. i'm sure i don't need to remind you how serious this is" the chief explains, the same monotone voice now sounding like a cruel joke, however the lack of sleep and evident annoyance plastered on his face doesn't allow room for further complications

As expected, it earns him a shake from Jungkook's head, looking down and taking a breath to prepare himself to complain,

You were faster,

"We will do it. Thank you chief"

your heartbeat hammers in your chest, almost making you feel sick,

It isn't solely that now, you're being responsible for this huge nation wide case,

As abstract and insignificant as it may sound, alongside that, you're facing the difficult task of working with detective Jeon

"I am relying on your ability to stay professional and not let your personal fuedes get in the way" chief gestures his fingers between the two of you, resting his droopy eyes half lidded on yours, haunted by the Terrors of the previous night as he strides off,

Looking over to you newly aquired partner, he looks back at you with a clenched jaw, meeting your tranquill gaze as he speaks,

"Unbelieveable"

11:23 pm

You find out that working with him is in fact, difficult.

15 long hours had passed since your mangled, conjoined mess of what can be roughly considered as partnership had started,

This would have been hundretfold less hair pulling without the countless complains and microagressions,

"Can you move? I can't read this"

you huff, pushing the rolling chair further to the side of your desk, creating even more of a chasm beetween your two bodies,

This reffering to the monster of a case file that had ben handed to you- consisting of every possible report, witness statement, newspaper, autopsy report, possible subject you name it,

it was there- written somwhere in the horribly unorganized pile of paperwork

It slumps down your heavy shoulders, weight down by the hope and responsibility over the country,

"I can't get a read on this bastard" he utters, shutting his eyes. The same frustration that courses through your veins also shows on him and the way he rubs his forhead with his large hands,

The issue is, surprisingly there is nothing in this everything,

"Me neither. The witness statements all contradict themselves and there isn't anything helpful in the other reports" he watches you erratically reorganize the papers for the hundreth time, humming in agreement,

While you had been sitting at this bitingly cold, empty office for the past 15 hours, analyzing every line- reading between them, speculating upon the relevancy of each syllable, on duty officers are being chased around the city like headless chicken, led by baseless tips that somehow- always end up in sheer nothingness.

Nonetheless, you had read every word, soaked up ever piece of Informationen like a greedy sponge without a filter,

Jungkook is on his third cup of coffee, stratically pacing his caffeine intake to maximise his ability to stay awake,

"The department that had this case before us were nutjobs" he says, making you let out a small laugh, a rare occasion which cuts through tension and inevitable irritation that corresponds with this unexpected partnership

A long sigh of desperation follows as you recall what you have managed to gather in the past 15 hours, recalling the possible profiling there is to make on your killer,

Witnesses all contradict each other apart from stating that the victims had been in contact with an ominous man previous to their deaths caused by the rivers ghost- that man presumably being him

"All we have is his patterns. Women, all dismembered and thrown in the river" you tell him, leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest,

he nods, granting you a look,

"Very throughly dismembered it says in the autopsies, clean cuts at the right spots. That sick creep must be a surgeon or something" jungkook adds, swiping through his hair

"Yeah, or a butcher" you agree, retracting your mind to the details of the killings. There had been no traces of dna found any where on the crime scene, no hair, fingerprints even scraps of clothes- something rarely seen in murders no matter how premeditated- even if the perpetrator had worn gloves, leaving without a speck is practically impossible,

how does he do it?

Aditionally, by how meticulously dismembered the body parts were, it transmitts the notion that the killer must be experienced,

"Possibly cumpulsions? He's uncharactaristically clean" your question makes jungkook think for a second, contemplating, "i figured. But that usually implies a history of mental illness"

"Yeah, and that narrows it down if he's on file"

you pause, "We should look into that"

He hums before turning the bright screen of your pc torwards him, guiding the mouse along the pad,

"The only reliable witnisses we have are the on scene cops. Let me write a email for an interview" he whispers, prominently groaning as you pry the mouse away from his hands, rolling your eyes at him

"Let me write it, it's my pc" your voice falls into a lower grumble,

"Oh okay miss, didn't know i couldn't use your pc, partner" jungkooks lips turn into a mocking grin, you lamely tell him to shut up

he pushes himself away from the desk, sliding the rolling chair back as he releases himself from the suffocating shakles of a long shift,

"I'm leaving. Another hour of this and i'm going insane" as he puts on his thick black coat, the dim light above you flickers, without a further note, his presence leaving subsides, resulting to your solitude inside the four walls of the eceptionally empty, staticly buzzing office

Your fingers type away at the keyboard, the blue, bright light eliciting from the screen strains your exhausted eyes with all their might, in the email directed towards your loyal friends and helpers, you´re practically begging them for an interview the following day

As you finally press send, your face crashes down into your hands- fingers rubbing the crumbled remains of what once was your mascara into your skin, highlighting the lack of rest you so clearly suffer from

With the obnoxiously loud sound of heels clicking on the floor and the shutting of the floor hall doors, the department falls entirely empty,

gushes of frosting wind hit your skin upon your exit already inhaling the smoke from your freshly lit cigarette, you attempt to make the trainride home to pass in the blink of an eye by disassociating into thought, thoughts that expectedly, revolve around what you had spend the past hours of existance with,

It felt surreal, that he must be out here right when you are as well,

In the same city, inhaling the same polluted air

"This stupid woman"

Jungkook pulls into his usual spot down at the apartment block, the tall lights shining a oddly comforting, yellow glimmer on his street

His hands slam on the steering wheel, blowing out air from his puckered lips as his head falls back- final relief, while simultaneously, dreading to be back at work in a meer time of 7 hours

Reverting back to the thought of you, he curses underneath his slightly labored breath,

he doesn't hate you- at least that what he tells himself, in all rationality, his unfounded fascination with your patheticly annoying "i can do it all" attitude is precisely that, unfounded

The keys jingle between his rough fingers, revealing his dark apartment, before a very hungry- playful Doberman greets him with a jump and about a million licks to his hands,

"heeyy bam.. you hungry bro?" Bam barks and Jungkook giggles in return, throwing his coat onto the hanger while the dog strides happily torwards the empty food bowl

On the other side of town, a siren blares- red, blue lights reflect on your fogged up kitchen window as the vehicle speeds down the road,

both of you silently prayed that it wouldn't be his fault once again

[flawseer]

Your thoughts on the wof characters have been really interesting and I'd love to hear your take on Starflight (your assignment of him being the 'designated sufferer' of arc one is both hilarious and tragically accurate). I've always liked him, cowardly though he is he still acts when he really needs to and the dynamic between him and Tsunami is super fun (the whole outwardly combative but inwardly just wishing to be as strong/as smart as the other).

I like Starflight and I relate to him a lot, as a fellow chronic worrier who annoys his friends with constant blathering about stuff only I find interesting, and often finding myself paralyzed in the face of decisions.

It’s funny how the story puts forward a black dragon, which in media are usually portrayed as mysterious, ambiguously malevolent harbingers of doom, and makes him into this adorable dork.

He’s also the plot’s chew toy, which I am at times less enthusiastic about. Especially when jokes are made at the expense of his misfortune.

Wings of Night and Sea

Starflight’s and Tsunami’s friendship is very engaging because, in a sense, both of them complete each other. For each, emulating the other serves as their last resort when faced with a personal crisis. Whenever Tsunami encounters a situation she cannot overcome with her usual blunt and direct approach, she asks herself how Starflight would resolve the situation. When Starflight becomes overwhelmed and too scared to move, his mind conjures an image of the strongest, bravest, most unstoppable thing he knows, which is Tsunami. Though either would be reluctant to openly admit it to each other, they both rely on each other’s strengths to cover their own weaknesses.

Through this you get the sense that, while their opposite personalities annoy each other to no end—if you locked both of them in a room for three hours, they’d be strangling each other when you open the door again—at their core they have only the deepest respect for each other. It becomes especially apparent when you realize that both of their stories in their respective books have them compare themselves to the other unfavorably.

If these two ever did a DBZ-style fusion dance, the result would likely be one of the most capable and balanced characters in their series.

Starflight's misfortune

CW: Discussion of blindness

One thing I have noticed (and have alluded to a lot in previous posts) is that the plot really likes to kick Starflight in the teeth. His own story arc puts him through the wringer, but he is not even safe in the two arcs past that, where he is largely out of focus. Most of the things that happen to him in arc 1 seem to occur for the sake of the story, but past that... it sometimes feels to me like the world has it in for this guy.

I started writing a list of every bad thing that happens to Starflight over all three arcs, but it got way too long, so now I’m just going to talk about a few select things instead.

One thing that stands out to me is that every other protagonist in arc 1 gets a specific moment. That kind of scene where they enter their tribe’s biome for the first time or connect with a particular part of their culture/physiology, and are overcome with a sudden burst of euphoria or deep resonance with their own nature. Clay gets it when he submerges himself in mud for the first time and then later again when he finds his siblings, Tsunami when she sees and smells the ocean, Glory when she’s in the rainforest and feels the sun, and Sunny when they go through the magic tunnel and end up in the desert. Starflight is the only arc 1 protagonist who doesn’t get a moment like this; when he enters his tribe’s home for the first time it’s a giant craphole that makes him feel upset. It only gets worse from there.

Then there is the big one; the misfortune that happens to him at the end of his book. I struggle to talk about this because... uh... How do I put this?

I opened this post by saying I relate to Starflight on a personal level. I wouldn’t consider myself as studious or well-read as him, so it’s not a direct comparison, but I do like to draw, write and dabble in visual artistry. This is a major part of my life; how I define myself as a person and what I think makes me “me”. The thing about this though is that all of this is tied up into one thing: my sense of sight.

It follows then that what ends up happening to Starflight is the realization of the one thing I fear the most. Thinking about the possibility of losing ones sight is deeply, personally horrifying to me. It messes me up internally just to consider it happening to me.

This, the subject of becoming blind, is a very difficult topic for any story to properly engage with. There are many pitfalls you can fall into and come off as insensitive, or ignorant. The way Wings of Fire deals with this subject is to... well... it doesn’t really. Starflight is blinded and then the story skips over most of his reaction to it because the next POV character gets separated from the group while they sort it out.

In a way, this is a good thing. I don’t know how this series—which often rushes through these really uncomfortable, harrowing events—would be able to show a realistic reaction to this development. Like, losing ones sight would be a horrifying prospect for anyone, but for Starflight especially this completely uproots not only his entire life, but his sense of identity. Everything he likes doing, everything he is and wants to be in life is rendered virtually impossible by this.

Consider who Starflight is. He is a thinker, and a worrier who is always inside his own head. He dreads and fears, he seeks out worst case scenarios, I daresay he is inclined towards pessimism. Whenever his neuroticism gets him too stressed, or emotional, or worried, he has one immediate response: bury his nose in a scroll. When he arrives in a new place, he usually asks where the scrolls are at. When he is under threat of being abducted or attacked, his first instinct is to go grab his scrolls to keep them safe. Like with me and drawing, reading is how he unwinds, how he balances himself. It is what keeps him sane and functional through dealing with adversity (and he's Starflight, so he deals with a lot of adversity).

Then this happens to him, and suddenly the one thing that makes this poor, battered boy happy, the one thing that never hurts him, is taken away forever. If I was in his place, if I learned I was suddenly blind, I would fall apart. I would cry, then scream, then cry AND scream and probably flail around in a panic. Clay would have to hold me down and restrain me so I don’t end up falling off the platform in a frenzied fit. Or worse.

So yeah, I get why the plot had to look away. Seeing this happen to Starflight—him going through this kind of anguish and then sinking into quiet despair as his world crumbles around him—would have been heartbreaking. In the end, we go on Sunny’s solo adventure and when she returns Starflight is already conveniently past the screaming fit phase and has adjusted to his new life circumstances—enough to talk and joke as if nothing happened. He then goes on to dedicate himself to bringing the wonders of literature to other blind dragons, which is a noble goal and good trajectory for his character—even if it’s a bit abrupt and I would have liked to SEE him do that instead of just being told.

Anyway.

This next one isn’t as notable because it doesn’t happen TO him, but I want to point it out to back up my claim that Starflight Ls can and will happen even in story arcs that have very little to do with him. In book 6 Moonwatcher and Darkstalker have a conversation where they discuss the concept of Nightwing powers and how they relate to the moons. The story very pointedly draws attention to the fact that Starflight nearly was born under three full moons and would have become the most powerful Nightwing of his generation if his inept caretakers had not decided to hatch him underground. While I don’t think getting these powers would have been good for Starflight in the long run, it is a bit sad considering he spent most of his childhood thinking he was born wrong because he didn’t have powers, and then Morrowseer further gaslit him about it throughout the arc.

And then we don't talk about what happens in arc 3. I am not the right person to discuss it.

My take on Starflight

I was asked to give my take on the character, so...

I already went into how I think he’s very introspective and prone to worrying. I see him as an introvert, which is something he has in common with Glory, and contrast him with Sunny, Clay, and especially Tsunami. He enjoys reading but also other activities where he gets to use his brain. He likes puzzles; I imagine he got very excited when they had to figure out the murder plot in book 2, or when he caught Blister in a lie. If he had a computer it would be full of adventure and puzzle games, and he’d hog the resident DS to play the Professor Layton series all the time.

When they found the academy, it is implied he teaches a literacy course and gives out writing assignments. That is right up his alley, but I’ve always felt he also has strong math/natural science teacher vibes. There should logically be a numbers class at that school and I can’t imagine any other character who would be more suited to teach it.

If I were asked where I would make changes to his story, I guess I would nix the part where he and Fatespeaker hook up in book 5. I have nothing against their relationship, it’s actually grown a lot on me over time. But I never liked how it started. Starflight gets rejected by Sunny and then immediately hooks up with Fatespeaker. This is really undignified for her because it takes their potentially intriguing romantic relationship and turns her into Starflight’s “rebound chick”. You really need to give yourself some time to move on from your previous attraction; rushing like this creates doomed relationships.

The original story implies that about half a year passes between the end of arc 1 and the start of arc 2. I like to pretend this gap is actually a bit longer, by like 2 or 3 years. It gives the old protagonists a bit more time to settle into the roles they’ll occupy during the next arc, and makes it more plausible to me that they could build and outfit an entire school, write the curriculum, designate roles, etc..

In that time, with things being more calm now, Starflight has opportunity to get lost in his own thoughts again. It turns out, now that the dangers of the war are no longer distracting him, he finds it difficult to cope with his blindness and sinks into a depression.

While this happens, Fatespeaker is there with him. She sees his condition worsening by the day, but refuses to give up on him. She reads to him; they talk, and they bond. Though serious self-searching and hard work, together they manage to pull out of the darkness eventually. This is how their relationship starts, and it’s also how Starflight gets the idea to invent the dragon-equivalent of braille.

Somewhere during that time, I also imagine Glory has Tamarin escorted to Jade Mountain so she can help Starflight adjust to his new situation and learn how to navigate his life without needing to rely on others. Perhaps this is what motivates Tamarin to attend the academy later.

What else is there to say? Hmm...

I think Starflight is really fond of hard candy. Jawbreakers are his favorite especially. Though given how prone to misfortune he is in the story, I’m hesitant to put him in proximity of anything with a name like that.

[shomatoriashi]

10/07/24; 05:40pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you watch them fall in love with someone else ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

notes and warnings: unedited; non!mc reader; unrequited love; angst, no comfort. do not ask for a part 2. mc names for each story ( lorelai, ashley, teresa, melody )

thank you @/nyashykyunnie for providing the banners for this story ♡

{ she's got you mesmerized, while i die | why would you ever kiss me? | i'm not even half as pretty | you gave her your sweater, it's just polyester | but you like her better... i wish i was heather. }

to sylus, you were simply someone he hired to help with making his life easier. his relationship with you was nothing short of a mere business deal, with your mere existence seeming to be a means to an end.

yet foolishly enough, you had fallen for this cocky bastard, knowing you would do anything to please him-

anything to make him happy.

you couldn't count the instances where you sacrificed your own dignity for the sake of furthering his agenda alone. from sleeping with his enemies to obtain their secrets, to risking your life backing him up in various situations that more often than not, ended up in a gunfight-

you truly didn't understand why you would put your body and heart through such torture, simply to receive a mere nod of approval in response. it was during times like these, when you're so busy nursing your wounds, that you wondered why your traitorous heart beat so strongly for him, despite knowing how he didn't reciprocate your feelings.

in order to feel better about this whole situation, you managed to convince yourself that sylus was a busy man. that he didn't have time to feel such trivial emotions like love; that he treated you well enough, and as long as you could forever remain by his side, then you had no complaints.

you were a fool, purposely living in this tiny sandbox, convincing yourself that you could survive on mere scraps alone when it came to sylus.

yet that all changed when a certain hunter crash landed into his life, changing not only the course of his life-

but yours as well.

you had simply tagged along, being sylus's all too willing shadow when the young woman foolishly stepped into the n109 zone with an agenda of her own. as sylus takes her back to the warehouse, you could detect the fear and anxiety in her voice even when she willingly went against sylus.

and it was with those eyes, so filled with conviction, that you could see the way the walls around sylus's heart was beginning to crumble. he makes a few snide remarks to the woman, yet you could hear the amusement in his voice when he steps closer to her, pressing his hand over hers that felt much too sensual for your eyes.

envy was felt choking you, and you had to turn away from the scene. ice was felt coursing through your very veins at the sight, and you bit down against your bottom lip with such intensity that you swore that you were close to drawing blood.

thoughts pertaining to your denial kept repeating itself in your mind, like a never-ending mantra, and you knew that deep down you were simply trying to lie to yourself.

sylus was simply using that hunter as well.

she was just as much of a tool to him like you were.

that woman is nothing special.

yet it all came crashing down one late evening, when you stepped into his room in hopes of seeking some sort of comfort from him. you were dressed in a thin nightgown, with your heart racing with anticipation within your chest. while admiring his sleeping face, you were filled with a longing for him, finding yourself praying that he would somehow return your feelings and take you in his arms all while admitting that he never wished to let you go.

when your hands reached out to him was when he began mumbling in his sleep, stating the syllables that made up a name that had your heart cease its beats almost immediately.

a name that wasn't your name-

"lorelai..."

you felt like you couldn't breathe, hearing his deep voice becoming so filled with yearning for that woman that it made you sick to your stomach. hot tears were felt streaming down your face, and you quickly turned away from him all while biting down against your fist.

lorelailorelailorelailorelailorelai! it was always her!

the woman with the smooth, pale skin and alluring gaze; her doe eyes and perfect hair managing to captivate sylus within mere minutes of him meeting her. your heart was utterly destroyed along with your confidence and love for him.

after everything you had done for him, he still refused to give you his heart-

yet it was stolen so freely by that perfect woman... lorelai-

you didn't think you could forget the way sylus spoke her name, filled with such reverence that it made you feel dizzy with envy.

spending several days avoiding sylus, doing your best to cut him out of your life. you wanted to skip any confrontations, not wishing to even admit the truth about your feelings when it came to him-

but as always, you were foolish into thinking that sylus would ever give you an easy way out.

you had been taking your usual trek home, ready to enter your apartment complex when a flurry of black feathers begin marring your vision, making you stop dead in your tracks when the onychinus leader appears before you. his large hands grips at your wrists almost painfully, making you cry out.

but perhaps more so than the pain was the fact that he treated you roughly, clearly not caring about your own well-being whereas he treated lorelai like she was made of porcelain.

"where the hell have you been?" annoyance twists sylus's features, morphing it into an expression of absolute disdain for you. "i've spent weeks trying to get in contact with you, and it turns out you've had me blocked this entire time?"

anger surges through you, and you use that sole emotion to fuel you when you manage to shove sylus away from you. his eyes go wide, taking a few steps back while giving you an incredulous expression. strengthening your resolve, you meet his gaze and give him the iciest glare that you could manage.

"we need to stop this charade, sylus. i can't go on working for you, not when you make it so damn obvious that i was never the one for you."

a flash of emotion was seen within his crimson gaze before quickly disappearing. his jaw seems to tighten in response to the way he was now gritting his teeth, "what are you talking about?"

you sharply inhale, finally spilling your darkest secret to him, "i love you, but you don't give a damn about me- not like you do with her."

surprise flashes across his features, and he takes an unsteady step towards you, "you... what?"

shaking your head, you angrily wipe away your tears, "i love you, that's why i can't be with you anymore. everything i've done, i've done for you, to make you fucking happy- to make you acknowledge me."

with your head held high, you meet his gaze and tell him (all while managing to keep your voice even), "if you want me to come back to you, then you need to make a choice. knowing how i feel about you, how i've always felt about you, you need to choose-

if you want me to come back, it's me. but if you choose her, then i'll be forever gone from your life."

sylus looks away from you, remaining silent for just a few seconds before his body began to shake, his laughter seeming to pierce through your heart, "you have no idea how long i have yearned for her... so to have lorelai so much closer to me than ever before, it's clear that i would accept any losses, including you."

the devastation you felt in that very moment was almost too much to bear, with you quickly running away from him. the tears continue to cascade down your cheeks, and every memory you shared with him continues to play within your mind.

your love-

the sacrifices you had made for him-

it had been all for naught.

when you were hired to work as one of the general surgeons as akso hospital, you felt as though you had hit the jackpot, landing a job at such a prestigious hospital in the heart of linkon. feeling happy at being able to further your career, you didn't think that anything could possibly distract you.

that is... until dr. zayne came into the picture.

you had heard about his achievements in the medical field, and you held a great deal of respect for him. becoming a cardiac surgeon of his caliber was no easy feat, and the fact that someone so young could accomplish it was commendable to you.

in fact, you were eager to start your work life with dr. zayne-

however, what you didn't expect was to fall so deeply in love with him at first sight. his bright eyes and the way his tiny smiles would constantly invade your mind was taking its toll on you. each time you would think about him, daydreaming of scenarios with your beloved doctor, your coworkers could see your lovestruck expression and take note of how your cheeks would suddenly go warm at the sight of zayne.

you were just so enamored with him that you gathered your courage and asked him out, first. after all, there was no penalties for developing a relationship between coworkers as long as both parties kept it professional while on the clock.

the memory of you confessing to zayne became a fond one. you had heard from yvonne that his favorite food were macaroons, and you figured that you had a better chance of winning his heart by gifting him his favorite food. so, with the box of colorful cookies in hand, you step into zayne's office and offered the gift to him all while confessing your feelings for him.

"zayne, i apologize if you find this... unprofessional, but i can't hide my feelings for you any longer. i... i truly like you so much, so please, will you give me a chance and go out with me?"

you watch as his eyes grow wider, an embarrassed expression taking over his expression as he hides his lips from you with the palm of his hand. he seems to be deep in thought, and after much deliberation, he accepts your confession and agrees to date you.

for the first couple of weeks, you were on cloud 9. zayne was nothing short of being the perfect boyfriend, taking you out on weekend dates at the end of your long shifts while giving you special trinkets here and there.

but there was one glaring issue-

zayne never once kissed you.

sure, he gave you gentle hugs here and there, yet each time you would lean up to try and kiss him, zayne would inevitably look away from you, saying that he was tired or how it wasn't the right moment to kiss.

despite how he never once complained or said a word to you, his lack of affection-

or rather, the lack of him reciprocating your affections, was taking its toll on you.

and you couldn't figure out the reasoning behind his distance until much later.

you had just come out of surgery, and as you stepped out into the lobby, you saw something that made you freeze, unable to move or say a single word.

standing a mere few feet away from you was zayne, and he was smiling at a petite woman. never before had you seen zayne appearing so soft before. the woman seemed to be chattering on about something to zayne, and your boyfriend did nothing but smile at everything she said-

as if he were hanging on to her every word.

feeling the pinpricks of jealousy beginning to surface, you march towards zayne and take a hold of his hand, doing your best to maintain a casual air as you cling to zayne and smile at the other woman. "zayne, i was looking everywhere for you!"

your laughter was strained as you eyed the woman, feeling the envious feelings begin to rise upon seeing how... perfect she looked. with kind eyes and full, rosy lips tilted up in a smile, she greets you. "hello, you must be zaynie's girlfriend! my name is ashley, and zayne's been my friend since we were little kids! he talks a lot about you, and i'm happy he's met someone so wonderful."

from your periphery, you could see the way zayne winces upon hearing ashley's words. it was clear that her calling zayne as simply her friend was enough to earn a wounded expression from him-

and that was the moment your epiphany came.

there was a reason why zayne never kissed you; why he never went beyond hugging you while taking you on simple dates-

it's because his heart had never been yours to begin with-

it belonged to her.

the blood had already rushed to your ears, blocking out whatever ashley had said before she excuses herself, leaving the hospital lobby. in your daze, you look down to see zayne clutching on to something tightly, realizing that ashley had made lunch for him.

feeling your throat go dry, you manage to tell him, "we need to talk."

zayne gives you a stiff nod, following you towards the upper floors and into his office with almost robotic movements. upon reaching the privacy of his office, you close the door, watching as zayne gingerly places the container filled with ashley's homemade lunch on his desk.

"who is she?"

zayne doesn't meet your gaze, simply staring out the window, answering your question softly, "it's like she said, she's a childhood friend."

"...a childhood friend that you love."

your heart was felt shattering all over again when zayne stiffens momentarily before visibly relaxing, as if feeling some type of relief-

like he didn't need to lie to himself or hide it anymore.

you thought hearing him confirm your suspicions would be the end of your heartache, but it was so much worse when he admits to you, "ashley is the reason why i worked so hard to become a cardiac surgeon. she... she has a heart defect, and i wish to save her life... to keep her alive and live a happy, fulfilling life."

his admission has left you reeling in response, the pain becoming so palatable that you could feel your heart begin shattering into a million pieces. "if you love her so much, why aren't you with her?" you ask him, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

zayne simply shakes his head in response, "she doesn't feel the same way for me... and truth be told... she deserves better than me. even though i've loved her through every timeline and universe, i-"

your heart couldn't take zayne's pain any longer, the hurt you once felt for him quickly becoming overshadowed by the unconditional love you still felt for him. taking him within your embrace, you feel the way he trembles against you, clinging to you as soft sobs were wracked through him.

and when he finally lifts up your chin, meeting your gaze while sayig your name with a broken gasp, he finally kisses you-

the taste of your first and last kiss with him was salty with his tears, yet you were too far gone to realize that this single kiss of desperation was made in response to his own lingering emotions for ashley-

never for you.

"there's a new girl that's going to be my partner at the association... and i'm in charge of looking out for her."

xavier tells you as you prepared dinner for the night. you frown at this information, but thought nothing of it. after all, he was skilled at his job as a hunter, often receiving praise for his strength when it came to dealing with the wanderers that roam the world.

"that's fine, i know what your work entails, xavier. you're a hunter, and if there's a newbie you need to train, then that's the end of it." you tell him with a hum, your back now facing him as you focused on cooking once more, missing the relieved expression on his face.

you serve dinner and ask him about his day, only to receive one word answers in response. this also seemed a bit strange for you, since xavier never really shied away when it came to telling you about his day and how he felt.

you had both been dating to close to a year now, with you growing closer after becoming friends. you realized that you both shared similar interests and just... naturally progressed your relationship into something a bit more romantic. at the 6 month mark of your newly developed relationship, you decided to move in together with him.

it was true that you dated and had a few other boyfriends before, yet none of them were quite as serious as your relationship with xavier. despite never once saying the l word to each other, deep down, you knew that you were falling for xavier. in fact, with the sheer amount of times you had gushed to your family and friends about how much you adored him, they were confident that you would get engaged the moment your one year anniversary hit.

with the date quickly approaching in just a few weeks, you began to paint your daydreams, thinking of different ways xavier would propose to you while giggling like a little girl. you had always dreamt of having the perfect proposal, and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of what was to come.

after serving dinner, you sit across from xavier, taking a few bites here and there all while sneaking glances at him. you couldn't stop grinning at him, which makes xavier raise his eyebrows at you in suspicion.

"what? do i have sauce on my face?"

you snort and quickly shake your head, reassuring him that you were simply caught up in your reveries. xavier doesn't bring up the subject any longer, simply returning to his meal.

later that night, as you both got ready for bed, you were dressed comfortably in your favorite pajamas all while anticipating xavier's return to you. after his usual shower, he comes out of the bathroom with a plush towel wrapped around his head. tossing the damp towel into the hamper, he gets into bed, with you expecting your boyfriend to face you while taking you in his arms.

but when he gets into bed with his back turned towards you, you had to fight back the strange pang felt within your chest. your mouth kept opening and closing, asking him if he was okay-

"sorry, i'm just a bit exhausted. let's just sleep..."

ignoring the way your throat seemed to clench in response, you give him a stiff nod, only to realize that he couldn't see you. "r-right... i understand, you're tired, that's all."

the tears were felt brimming against your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, falling into bed while clenching your eyes shut. you tried to ignore the lingering suspicions, distracting yourself by counting sheep until you could fall into a restless slumber all while trying to convince yourself that everything was going to be okay...

{ ... }

the weeks leading up to your first anniversary with xavier was strained, to say the least.

for starters, he seemed to be taking on more missions than usual, all while telling you that teresa was still new and needed someone with experience like him on these higher level missions.

at first, his reasonings didn't bother you or raise any alarm, and you simply allowed him to work with teresa because it was his job and that woman was his partner. you couldn't let your insecure thoughts put a damper on his job.

even when you saw him less and less-

your love never once wavered for him.

on the day of your one year anniversary, you decided to surprise him at work instead. surely, he would have completed his mission sometime during the late afternoon, and you were certain that he would appreciate your kindness.

with his favorite takeout in hand, you walk into the hunter association building, weaving your way through the area. it takes you a few minutes to locate him, but when you went down to the lower levels and could see his familiar, blond hair, you quicken your pace, his name already on the tip of your tongue when you freeze in your steps.

"i thought i had lost you!" xavier's voice was heard cracking as he wrapped his arms around another woman, seeming to crush her slender frame against his chest. your heart begins to ache at the sight, making your labored breathing feel even more painful as you struggled to remain calm and not hyperventilate.

but, it was clear that such a heartbreak would not break even when he opens his eyes and sees your trembling form staring blankly at him. even after seeing you, xavier does not move away from the woman, seeming to hold her even closer to him as he shakes his head at you.

while meeting your gaze, he mouths a few words, and you could read his lips while taking in those harsh syllables. you drop the bag of takeout, your choked sob echoing throughout the area as you ran out of the building.

your sobs coupled along with your gasps for air were making a scene, with some of the civilians looking at you with bewildered expressions. yet you stopped caring, allowing your mind to piece together what had always been in front of you ever since teresa had come into his life.

xavier distancing himself from you-

xavier suddenly filled with the desire to protect teresa, a woman he had just met-

the way he held her so tightly at the memory of nearly losing her-

a sudden cry of your name stops you from taking another step, your stupid heart suddenly filling with hope when you hear xavier's voice and his rapidly approaching footsteps.

you hear him stop a few feet away from you, his voice strained once he begins speaking once more. "i... i'm so sorry, i didn't want you to find out like this, but you have to know the truth."

it takes you a herculean effort to fight back your tears, but you knew you had to hold it together and allow xavier to finally explain himself. "i do care about you... but... fuck, the moment i saw her, everything else just melted away. all of my life, my entire existence, was simply waiting for her to come back to me. i've waited so long for her... and what i feel for her... it's like... like gravity isn't what's keeping me grounded, but she is."

you had no idea what kept you rooted on the spot, knowing that both your heart and mind were screaming at you to move away. but, you couldn't find the strength to do so. instead, you had to listen to his words once more, the same ones he had mouthed to you earlier-

"i'm sorry, but i love her..."

when the beautiful and charming rafayel confessed to you, you accepted his feelings and simply wished to date him just to have fun. despite his occupation as an artist, rafayel was so full of life- so full of light that you couldn't stop yourself from basking in his brilliance.

during the first few weeks of your relationship, your rafe was achingly sweet and cute, often giving you sketches he made of you when he drew your portraits on a whim. he liked calling you his muse before pressing audible kisses against your features, earning a series of joyous laughter from you. because of how much you adored rafayel, you often liked to spend the night at his place, where you would both order your favorite seafood and simply watch cheesy rom-coms together.

as time went on, you began to realize that you were falling hard for the young artist, with him being constantly on your mind even when you were at work. and just when you thought you couldn't love him anymore than you already did, he surprises you by gifting you a gorgeously crafted bracelet that had cute little seashells along with aquamarine gemstones.

altogether, your relationship was achingly perfect with rafayel, with you being certain that he would become your endgame. truly, there were times where you felt like your relationship with rafayel was too good to be true-

yet sadly, you would learn the harsh reality when it came to his feelings for you, realizing that the love rafayel had given you had been his own way of coping.

when it was nearing your 8 month mark of being together with him, rafayel suddenly became distant with you, often locking himself within his studio as he seemed to produce copious amounts of artworks. of course, when you tried to see his new paintings and sculptures, rafayel would hide them all away from you, covering them all with a thick sheet while distracting you with a date.

this behavior was strange, but you thought nothing of it. perhaps he was nervous about an upcoming art exhibit, and he didn't wish to reveal anything until the day of his exhibition came.

so, you went along with it, making up excuses each time rafayel would stiffen when you hugged him, or suddenly turned his head away from you each time you tried to kiss him.

but perhaps what hurt the most was the day you found out the reasoning behind his growing distance. rafayel told you he needed to take a break from making art and invited you over to enjoy the evening with him. you arrive an hour earlier (unable to contain your excitement at finally spending some time with him), and caught him with streaks of paint decorating his outfit.

he mentions how early you are, yet still allows you inside, telling you to make yourself at home while he takes a quick shower. as you rest against his kitchen counter, you hear the shower go off and smile. a few minutes pass, and you felt the palm of your hands begin to itch with a sudden sensation.

biting down at your bottom lip, you look towards the area where rafayel keeps all of his artwork. you were filled with curiosity, wondering what he was working on that made it such a touchy subject for rafe each time you asked about it.

you close your eyes, still hearing rafayel in the shower when you decided to push yourself away from the counter. "i'll just take a quick peek, then put the sheets back in place. he won't even notice."

stepping into his gallery room, you turn on all the lights, coming closer to the sheet as you gripped at the corner of it before pulling it away-

only to reveal a gorgeous carving that depicted a mermaid. she was by far the loveliest creature you had ever seen, with her soft features carved with a gentle smile as she held a pearl within her slender hands. from the amount of care rafayel had put into making her, it was clear that this sculpture was made with love.

there was just one problem-

the mermaid looked nothing like you.

your throat was felt painfully clenching at the sudden realization, but you brushed it off as mere paranoia. surely, there was some other art piece that held your likeness. as you trail your eyes towards a canvas now, you felt your heart sink even further.

it was the same woman; her features matches that of the mermaid sculpture, but this time, you could see the colors. her cheeks were painted in a rosy hue, with each paint stroke seeming to accentuate the soft beauty the woman displayed. around her neck was an aquamarine pendant in the shape of a banded tulip seashell. trailing your eyes further downwards towards the frame, you felt your heart clench upon seeing the title of his painting:

melody, my beloved queen

your mind was racing now, and the sheer intensity of the hurt and envy you felt renders you incapable of taking another step. you were so caught up in your reveries that you didn't even realize that rafayel had come out of the showers until he places the sheets over his works once more.

"you- you weren't supposed to see that."

slowly, you turn around to face him, and his guilty expression was more than enough proof, confirming your suspicions that the woman he kept painting and sculpting- this melody-

he loved her.

"why did you even approach me when your heart was never mine to begin with?"

you were proud at how even your voice came out, and when rafayel tried to stutter out some excuse, you immediately cut him off.

"no more bullshit lies, rafayel. tell me."

the artist lets out a string of curses, running a hand through his damp hair. unable to meet your gaze out of shame, he sighs before admitting, "it's because she doesn't remember me... even after meeting her, she only sees me as a friend. she... doesn't remember me."

your throat was burning now, and you could feel the tears streaming down your face, "then why waste your time with me?"

rafayel meets your gaze, a pained expression painting his features. yet his next words succeeds in absolutely devastating you:

"i used you as a means to try and forget her."

the agony you felt was indescribable, with you immediately turning away from rafayel. the sting of his betrayal was felt coursing through your very veins when you rushed out of his home and into the cold, night air.

you wanted to grip at your hair and scream at the top of your lungs-

you wanted to claw at the sidewalk, making sure that your nails bled with each scrape against the concrete-

but perhaps most of all, you wanted to rip your heart out for still loving rafayel despite it all-

even when you were no longer his muse.

[ all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!! ]

[sirfrogsworth]

These folks watched a whole ass movie not realizing the main character was transgender and it was a 2 second kiss between men that made them lose their ever-loving minds.

It's amazing to me that if it weren't for those 2 seconds, many of these folks would have given this movie a 4 or 5 star review. But two seconds of the most vanilla, non-sexy, yet genuine and loving kiss somehow ruined every moment of enjoyment the previous 90 minutes brought them.

Imagine if they realized the trans allegory. I wish I had a way to tell them. I wish I had a way to make them realize they related to a trans character. That they rooted for them. That they accidentally empathized with a trans story.

This was a beautiful movie. In every sense. I really hope between this and Spider-Verse, we can have a moratorium on every 3D animated movie using this style of character design.

It's time to let go of the rubber toy look.

I love Toy Story, but its success kind of doomed 3D animation to never take any risks. I thought maybe it was just a limitation of the medium, and perhaps it was for a time... but after seeing Love Death + Robots and Arcane...

I realized they can make 3D animation look however the hell they want now.

The rubber people were just risk avoidance.

"That's what people are used to and so we're sticking with it."

But the real beauty of Nimona was the story. I won't spoil it but the plot is pretty much, "If you get to know a trans person, you probably won't hate them anymore."

Not knowing any trans people is one of the biggest factors in anti-trans bigotry. And so this movie uses allegory to let an audience get to know a trans person. And you get to experience someone slowly start to understand what it is to be trans from an outside perspective.

It's sad that will probably be lost on those folks above because all they will remember is the kiss. Seriously, it was such a harmless, mundane, blink-and-you-miss-it kiss. But I'm hoping that others will take the lesson of this movie to heart. That you should get to know people before you judge them.

Part of me does wish we could tell trans stories without allegory. That we could just have overt trans characters. But I think this is the best representation possible right now.

It's crazy that Supergirl was one of the bravest shows as far as modern trans representation. It wasn't an edgy HBO drama trying to push boundaries. It was a family-friendly superhero show and they were just like, "Here is a transgender woman with superpowers and it's fine." And I loved that it was part of the character but it wasn't all the character was. Though I think they just missed the manufactured "moral panic" window where that choice would have been extremely controversial causing boycotts of Warner Bros. and whatnot.

My only complaint about Nimona was a small penis joke. It went by very quickly and many may even miss it. But I was surprised to see it in this movie in particular. Especially since those jokes can have collateral damage toward trans folks. With all of the positive messages, wasting a joke on body shaming was a tad disappointing. I mean, it was a fairly lighthearted "Is it cold in here?" joke. I don't want to make it sound worse than it was. But it still registered on my Richter scale of things that bother me.

Anyway, I wholeheartedly give Nimona a 5 out of 5. It helped me understand my friends on a deeper level and it was warm and funny and entertaining. There was a scene at the end that was so beautiful and heart-wrenching and I was crying my eyes out. The animation and the symbolism and the acting were just so perfect.

It's a shame Disney tried to kill this movie. But I am so glad it was allowed to exist despite that.

[garbinge]

Clean Cut

Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of bullets, war, shrapnel, anxiety, worry, car accidents. Slightly angsty. 

Word Count: 1.2k 

A/N: Okay so I just caught up with all The Rookie seasons and I’m just LIVING for Chenford. Like LIVING. buuuuuut I noticed there wasn’t much Tim x Reader fic out there soooooo I figured why not! This idea came to my head at some point when I was watching and I also have like a whole story of their life beyond and before this moment but enjoy this little reworked snippet from 2x08. 

The Rookie Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics​

It had felt like a long day already and you had only been clocked in at the hospital for two hours. You still had 10 hours left in your shift and it felt like you experienced a whole day’s worth already. Being a corpsman for a Marine squad prepared you for a lot but sometimes the uniqueness of LA and the people who resided in it and tended to need your RN medical services at St. Stevens ran you for your money. 

Currently, you were updating patient charts during the lull that was likely to last all of two seconds but it beat staying an extra hour to finish your paperwork likely unpaid because the hospital rarely approved overtime for RNs. 

“Wanna tell me why it’s so crazy for a Tuesday?” 

The statement from your coworker caused you to look at them over your shoulder and let out a laugh. 

“I wish I had an answer to that, but I also feel like anything I say will jinx it even more.” You pushed the computer cart against the wall and moved over to your coworkers cart. “You’ve got like 15 pages here, what is this?” You picked up the manila folder that was larger than your normal ER patient folders. 

“Police car accident. There’s a few of them in the ER right now, these things always include tons of paperwork. Everyone needs to cover their asses.” 

Your heart started to beat faster at the mention of a police accident but what really caused you to go into panic mode was seeing your husband's name on the report. 

Before you could even answer your co-worker you were moving down the stairs, knowing the elevator would take too long. You knew the elevator would probably be quicker but the thought of standing still while you waited for and in it would drive your mind crazy so rushing down the stairs was the better alternative. 

Tim was sitting on one of the ER beds, the scene of it caused you to stop for a minute. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Tim hurt waiting to be treated. In all honesty this was probably the tamest medical treatment scenario you two had been in together. He looked fine from afar, but that didn’t stop the worry from boiling in your gut. 

“What happened?” You were next to him within seconds, the worry being the fuel of moving you from the staircase entrance to his side in seconds. 

“I rear ended a civilian.” Tim knew better than to try and calm you down with pleasantries and relaxing mantras. 

“Jesus.” Your hand moved to your pocket in search of your pen light. Quickly, you flashed it in front of his eyes, searching for his eyes to constrict and then dilate when you moved the light away. 

“They already did this.” Tim’s voice was neutral, but you knew he was annoyed. 

“Humor me.” Your head tilted, now your own annoyance was clear to him. 

His eyes softened as they met yours and he nodded which gave you the okay to keep running through the trauma checklist in your head. 

“This isn’t like you.” Tim said after a few minutes of silence between you as he humored you by lifting up his arms as you pressed down on his ribs and checked his reflexes. 

“In what way?” You talked as you continued to look him over. 

“I’ve come home and told you I’ve gotten shot at and you barely react, I tell you that I got into a car accident and you’re acting like I have internal bleeding.” Tim’s eyebrows raised. 

“Did they do a CT scan? You could have internal bleeding. Especially if the airbags went off.” 

“Doc.” The use of the nickname only 13 people in the world knew you as caused you to stop your examination of Tim and stand in front of him, slightly defeated. 

“If I worried about every close call you encounter everyday, I’d be dysfunctional. This.” You pointed towards him and the bed, “This is tangible. This actually happened.” 

Tim nodded and a smirk slightly filled his face. 

“You doubtin’ me, Sarge?” You frowned as you asked him, using your own nickname for him. 

“No,” Tim let out a chuckle and shook his head before looking back up at you. “I know better than to ever doubt you.” 

“Smart man.” Officer Lopez walked up to the two of you with a smile. “How’s he doin’?” She looked between the both of you. 

“He’s fine. No signs of a concussion,” you looked at Angela and then back at Tim, “and no signs of internal bleeding.” You smirked at him knowing he was going to give you one back. 

“Give us a minute, Lopez?” Tim stood up and ripped the hospital bracelet off his wrist. 

“Yea, just wanted to let you know the break lights were cut in the car you hit, foul play, you’ll likely be in the clear.” She explained while looking at the both of you, relief coming as a sigh from both you and Tim. “I’ll be in the lobby.” She nodded at him and squeezed your arm to say goodbye before leaving the ER. 

“We goin’ back to the conversation we were having or a new one?” You asked Tim as he towered over you. 

“You pulled shrapnel out of my abdomen in Afghanistan and you look more worried checking me for a concussion.” Tim said with his arms crossed. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing.” Your one worded answer wasn’t convincing.

“Don’t lie to me.” Tim said more seriously than any of his other statements. 

You sighed, “Like I said, this is tangible. In Afghanistan, we weren’t exactly given the space to worry. Here, I feel like it’s all I have to hold onto. But again, if I held onto every worry I’d be dysfunctional. I know you can handle yourself when bullets are flying, when shit goes sideways, it’s these out of your control scenarios that just get me flustered.” You explained moving your hands around as you talked. 

Tim brought you in for a hug, knowing nothing he’d say could change anything. “You do realize, I’m the one that rear-ended the civilian, not the other way around, right? Totally in my control.” He teased you. 

“Not according to Angela.” You corrected him and he chuckled. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” He placed a quick kiss on the top of your head. 

“See you tonight, I already texted Angela all the concussion signs in case we missed anything.” Letting your last bit of worry out. 

“You haven’t missed a single diagnosis or injury since I met you, Doc!” He called out from a few feet from you. 

“You know, I’m technically not a doc, anymore, Sarge!” You yelled out to him. 

He turned around with his arms up as he continued to walk backwards. “And I’m not technically a Sargeant anymore.” 

“Old habits die hard!” You yelled back just before the elevator doors opened and he stepped backwards into the elevator flashing you a quick smile before the doors closed and he was back on duty.

[cyberpunkgyu]

SERIES: The Sun and the Sunflower / P. Sunghoon

genre: fluff, romance

introduction: these series include random one shots of tsundere! sunghoon and bubbly! reader’s relationship, more chapters/parts will follow in the future! this part shows the softer side of sunghoon but next chapters/parts will show his more “tsundere” side

a/n: i decided to make it one shots because i realized i suck at making long stories so hopefully this turns out alright! let me know what you think :D

warnings: suggestive, and not proofread cause i’m lazy

I. Jealousy *ੈ✩‧₊˚ — when you get jealous

Sunghoon is someone who doesn’t show a lot of affection when there are other people around you both. If a stranger saw the two of you, they might not even think you both are in a relationship because of how casual he is around you in public. You didn’t mind, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in anyway, and you respected that (though there were times where he would peck your lips when no one is looking).

But there were times you wish you could just kiss him to show others that he is yours. Like right now.

You always thought you weren’t a jealousy person. What’s there to be jealous about? You know Sunghoon is a loyal person and would never do anything to hurt you. He is a whole green flag, a green forest even.

But you can’t help it when you see girls flirting with him out in the open.

He has asked you out for a night out in a nearby art museum that just opened. Of course you agreed, making sure you were free and don’t have anything else planned, you definitely wouldn’t pass any opportunity to spend time with him.

The night has been going well so far. You two went around to see different exhibitions, taking photos of one another (you even secretly took photos of him when he wasn’t looking because he looked so dreamy).

He was wearing a suit and tie with his glasses on, which you have always told him how handsome he looks with it on. Sunghoon is very handsome in general, but when he wears his glasses on, it just hits different. There’s just something about it that makes your stomach flutter ten times more.

You have also dressed up quite nicely, wearing the dress Sunghoon gifted you for your birthday which wasn’t too long ago. It was a pretty long white dress, and you felt very confident in it. Spending almost two hours doing your hair and makeup, your craft not going unnoticed by your boyfriend.

He is quick to notice your appearance, staring at you in awe when he picked you up from your apartment. He had literal heart eyes for you, a soft smile on his face.

For a quick moment you have left him outside to use the bathroom, to freshen up and all that. Once you got out, you didn’t expect to see him talk to someone, and a woman. And he was smiling?

What caught you off guard is when the girl placed her hand by his bicep, though Sunghoon didn’t seem bothered by it, just nodding to what she was saying. Does she really have to be touchy?

You pouted to yourself, watching the scene in front of you, not knowing if you should let them be or approach them. Before you could even decide, Sunghoon has already spotted you, excusing himself.

“You ready to go and see more exhibits? There’s more upstairs.”

“Hmm, sure.”

Your voice came out soft and quiet, something out of the ordinary as you often talked with such excitement. His thick brows furrowed, but he pushed it off, nodding at you. Maybe you were just getting tired? He thought.

Crossing your arms, you began to walk to the escalator, Sunghoon following by your side. Who was that girl? Is that someone he knows? Or did they just met? Why were they smiling? They looked so happy together. Is that his ex? He never told you about an ex…

You shook your head to yourself, feeling yourself overthink. Stop it, yn.

“Hey… you alright? I can take you home if you’re feeling tired.” Sunghoon looked at you with such concern, both of you getting off the escalator as you got to the next floor up.

You looked up at him, quickly shaking your head. “No! Uh, I’m alright. Don’t worry. I want to see more of the exhibits.” You forced a grin, though it came out so fake that Sunghoon can sense something was definitely wrong.

You got startled when he took your hand, pulling you to the side. Your back was suddenly pressed on a wall, gasping softly as his hand found your hips, looking at him with wide eyes. Your cheeks reddened so quickly, heart beating hastily.

“Is something wrong? You can tell me.”

His eyes stayed on you, waiting for your response, though you felt your throat dry during to how close the two of you are. When you opened your lips, nothing came out.

“Nothing! I just- I…”

“You can tell me what’s wrong. I don’t like seeing you so quiet. It’s weird.”

That made your heart flutter, blinking up at him. He was so close that you could smell his sweet scent, making you feel fuzzy inside.

"I would rather hear you talk non-stop than be quiet. I like hearing you," he whispered softly, feeling his fingers run through your hair, making you feel giddy.

"It's just... it's nothing. It's stupid." you felt yourself pout softly, looking away from him, but you felt his hand grip your chin gently, making you look up at him. "Well it's not stupid if it's bothering you right?"

"The woman earlier. You know her? Is she-"

"She's a childhood friend during my ice skating years. We just quickly catched up, that's all."

Ah, right. You nodded, feeling yourself embarrassed.

"Were you… jealous?"

"What? Why would you ask that." you huffed, suddenly getting defensive. He found it cute how pouty you got, feeling himself smile down at you. Gosh, you're cute.

"You can be friends with anyone you want, I don't care. It's the same with me, I can be friends with whoever, talk to whoever I want. And also, why did she have to be touchy-"

Sunghoon looks at you with adoration, his eyes flickering between your eyes down to your lips. He loves it when you ramble, pouting your lips whenever you do. Your voice was going in from one of his ear to the other, everything in the background becoming a blur.

You were suddenly cut off by Sunghoon's soft lips, your eyes widening before they fluttered shut, putting your hands into a fist as you didn’t know what to do with it.

His lips were hot and plump, his hands going up to your waist, pulling you slightly up, causing you to go on your tippy toes.

You wish you could kiss him for longer, though he definitely took your breath away, pulling away from to the kiss to catch your breath. Your cheeks flushed, as well as your lips, and definitely swollen.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it… you were talking too much.”

A giggle escaped your lips, looking up at him shyly. “I thought you weren’t a fan of PDA.” you teased, smiling shyly up at him.

“I could do much more if we weren’t in public.”

“Hoon!”

He grinned cheekily, his fangs on display, chuckling lowly. “Cute…”

Your cheeks felt as if they were on fire. He really knew how to make you fold, huh? His eyes never left yours, caressing your waist ever so gently, eyes full of love.

“Why don’t we just go back to my apartment?”

“Hm, are you tired?”

“No.”

“Then why? Aren’t we going to see more exhibits?”

“I did. But now all I want is to able to kiss my pretty girlfriend longer.”

[with-my-calamitous-love]

JAMES DEAN DAYDREAM LOOK IN YOUR EYES ♫

rockstar! chuuya x popstar! reader

part 2/3

smut! you are responsible for what you read 💿

at an award show, the press make many speculations about your rising fame and your relationship with the infamous rockstar, chuuya nakahara.

inspired by style

midnight.

if there was an award show, chuuya was going. he was one of the youngest, most awarded rockstars ever. he's charming and handsome, with hands that play his guitar like a god. not to mention his sanguine voice coupled with his broody, meaningful lyrics. he was the subject of every teenage girl's heart.

he was a man that reveled in the fame, charming fans and interviewers alike. but for the most part, he insisted on letting the world watch him act. he knows damn well what the music industry can do to a star, and he's determined to rise above that.

still, every now and then theres a question that makes his gorgeous smirk falter.

"chuuya nakahara! can you tell us who you've been dating?"

"mr. nakahara! what do you have to say about moving on too fast?"

"chuuya! is it true you've started a relationship with Y/N L/N?"

he takes a deep breath. just dissassociate, and smile for the press. its what he does best. "i think some things are best left unsaid. right now, i'm focusing on my album, out november 1st."

the news of his new music is enough to distract adoring fans from his love life, instead heading the questions towards what he does best. all eyes are on him, orange hair slicked back and a loose, white classic shirt. his ability to look stunning despite the pressure brought upon by prying eyes is nothing short of remarkable.

he hears a lot about his newest music video, smiling every time he hears your name come up. the video you two had released sky-rocketed your name, and chuuya's just happy he could help. this time, he can genuinely smile- only when his mind flickers back to the acted, fake, and nothing more than a staged kiss. right?

funny how a fabricated kiss scene made his heart swell for weeks after.

its the first time he's felt that since his last relationship.

even though he's escaped, theres still people who speak on his past relationship, and evidently his past wrongdoings. for a moment there, it seems everyone believed he was a cheating bastard. that he was an unfaithful player who wanted woman like they were trophies. and for a minute, he was.

the fame had gotten to him. singing for thousands of fans, wining trophies and having his name on headlines made the rockstar believe he was invincible. but he wasn't. turns out too many shots of tequila and almost kissing a blonde girl he thought was his girlfriend can really mess up a rockstar. and it did.

the constant speculations on his relationship status made him sweat with anxiety. he fucked up and he knew it. he wasn't happy in his relationship, and found himself wishing for different in the end, but thats never an excuse to cheat. though he never did the deed, that almost was enough. there were reports and witnesses, enough for the media to take it and run. for months, his pr team worked day and night to keep the story at a minimum. and their efforts were surprisingly valiant, with higuchi choosing to stay quiet about the whole situation. chuuya never figured out why, even after their inevitable breakup, but he was thankful none the less.

somehow, you managed not to hear of the entire situation. maybe thats why chuuya was so eager to rope you into his life.

soon, he was no longer on fire. after a long waiting period, he was free to be adored again, leading him to make his music video with you, the same video that brought him back to this very award show, and the video that made him wish he could be next to you right now.

his anxiety is flaring up. he's still worried his career could go down in flames, that he'll never escape his monumental fuck up. that everything he's worked for won't be worth it if his guilt and regrets aren't monetized.

after a few short kisses and hugs, chuuya escapes to a private room, designated for singers and celebrities attending the show. the room is empty, with everyone already out there and dazzling the fans. everyone except you.

he blinks when he sees you touching up your bangs in the mirror. he knows that nervous shake in your hands all too well. this could end in burning flames or paradise.

he approaches, clearing his throat.

you immediately turn around, seeing him. his blue eyes are immediately drawn into your red lips- just what he likes

"you look nice." he utters, coming up next to you and adjusting his own appearance in the mirror. you had been in here for quite some time, bracing you and your pop-princess persona to get out there. somehow, chuuya senses this.

"this your first event?" he asks, blue eyes flickering to you. you nervously chuckle, almost wanting to lie but immediately knowing he'd call your bluff. "yeah... something like that."

he finds this endearing. and maybe he just wants to be close to you, to help you or because he's a god damn gentlemen, he silently wraps his arm around your waist and leads you out of the room.

the fact that this is your first time being so close to the paparazzi is not lost on chuuya. he studies your face, the way you answer questions so genuienely and so excitedly. he knows they wanna ruin your pretty face, and he prays your strong enough to overcome it.

he's so mesmerized by you he doesn't even notice the way photographers and interviewers are freaking out at the fact that chuuya nakahara and Y/N L/N just walked out on the carpet at the exact same time, fueling the already circulating rumors. he knows that they'll have a field day with tonight, but for once, he doesn't seem to mind. maybe because it's with you.

the two of you walk off, enjoying a few drinks and chatting. you've known chuuya nakahara: the rockstar. but now, you've been getting to know chuuya. the guy who loves small dogs, fancy hats and taylor swift. the guy who has the most embarrassing real laugh that he hides from the media. the guy who likes to stalk his own fanpages, and who can't say no to a signature.

and after a few more drinks and some soft arm touching, the two of you clammer into his limousine and speed off to his penthouse.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

the media likes to believe they know everything about you and chuuya.

they’re convinced you two dating, that you’re using him for fame and that he’s moving on too fast from his relationship. that you’re not pretty or talented enough for him, or that he’s just a passing thought for you.

what they don’t know is that his head is between you thighs, eating you out like a god damn dessert.

your shaky hands fly to his hair, tugging at him while his lips work their magic. he’s fluid and elegant, yet rough while we works you through yet another orgasm.

every now and then he’ll spit on you, mesmerized by the way it drips down your already gushing pussy. he reaches and maddeningly trails his fingers in a sloppy pattern, letting his essence coat you before diving back in. he’ll start with one long stripe going up the length of your pussy, savouring your cries before diving in.

he’s relentless, determined to make your toes curl and back arch. he’ll let the tip of his tongue trace circles around your clit, watching how it throbs. his thumbs move to part you even further, giving him better access to this meal.

he absolutely ravages you, leaving no part untouched as he tongue-fucks you. his grip tightens on your thighs as you finally cum again, letting him lap it all up like its second nature.

your body and mind are buzzing as chuuya makes his way back up with a trail of kisses, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “told you i only needed 5 minutes.”

despite your flushed out face and spent, trembling thighs, you utter: “s-shut up.”

he laughs, sitting up and getting you some water. his bedsheets are luxurious, as you wrap your naked body in them. when he returns, he sets it down on the beside and lazily lays next to you, lying on his stomach. his back looks great like this, all his muscles on display.

but you can’t shake something you overheard.

“did you really cheat on her?”

he blinks. of course you’d bring that up after having sex.

he sighs, knowing this was only a matter of time. he shouldn’t feel so guilty. he didn’t actually cheat, though he was close to it. some would argue the intent is betrayal enough.

you’re not sure how to feel. rumours are just rumours, especially in the celebrity world. but you want to know if the man you’ve been falling for has a history of unfaithfulness.

he runs his hands through his air, barely being able to look you in the eye. “i.. came close to it.”

he wants to vomit, having to talk about it again.

you simply nod, seeing on your phone the already sparkling headlines about yours and chuuya’s love lives again. if you doom scroll long enough, they’re already reigniting the flame of his past relationship and how it ended.

you really hope this doesn’t end badly. for his sake and yours.

“are you mad?” he asks, thinking he already knows the answer. you pause for a moment. you’re angry, albeit only a little. most of that anger is towards yourself for not finding out sooner. you’re mostly just confused, if anything.

instead, you resolve to shake your head. “no, i’m not.”

and really, for a moment, you werent. the media was feasting off of something new. those that chose to rehash the past were less popular. the people wanted to see whats new, whats flashy and whats dazzling. right now, its you and chuuya together.

“what does this mean for us?” you hesitantly whisper, sliding down into the bedsheets to see him better. truthfully, neither of you know. the only thing thats clear are the feelings you share for one another.

he simply shrugs. “i’m gonna drag you down, doll. you’re a star. don’t let me do that to you.”

what hurts the most is that he’s right, even if its only a little. but you’re either an idiot, or in love. maybe both.

“..thats okay.” you smile, resolving to put love first, music second.

oh, how you’d come to regret that.

but you don’t relent when he pulls you into his arms, covering you two with the bedsheets. phones are tossed somewhere on the bed, and the penthouse keeping the two of you private. right now, you two could be together in secret. let them call it what they want.

[cuntylouis]

"Armand is Alice and Daniel's wife/s and kids aren't real" has become a popular fan theory (even Luke Brandon Field said he liked it!) but i'd be surprised if it was right. I think it's definitely possible that Devil's Minion will be adapted in the show (though probably not exactly like in the books), but i personally think this whole imaginary family thing would be a poor way to handle the storyline for a variety of reasons. I think a twist like that would probably come across convoluted and (as Daniel might say) like something from a telenovela.

We see children's toys in Daniel's house and he's public figure who many people know with an autobiography and everything. Creating decades worth of false memories for Daniel and somehow also maintaining that imaginary life story for decades wouldn't be enough, Armand or whoever did it would also realistically have to have an absurd level of control over the physical world, public records and many other people's minds to sustain an illusion like that. I also frankly think it would be difficult to avoid having some sexist and biphobic undertones to the idea that Daniel's relationships with women were unreal and meaningless and only his relationship with a man matters.

However, the most important reason why i think Daniel's wives and children should be real is that they make him a richer, more nuanced character and are actually central to understanding him and his motives. He has lived a full and complex life that has been influenced and to some extent defined by his encounters with vampires, but those vampires still weren't his whole life. I think it's more interesting to see Daniel's human life and his relationship with Armand and Louis as something connected and overlapping that both affect each other. We actually learn quite a lot about Daniel from what he says about his partners and children.

This scene - as well as how Alice in general is discussed - reminded many people of how Daniel in the books talks about Armand, such as this famous passage:

Parallels between Daniel's relationships with Alice and Armand in the books are obvious but i think they're just that, parallels. Both the sweet little scene where Daniel is talking about Alice's eyebrows and the book scene where he's talking about loving Armand not despite but because he's a monster reflect in different ways who Daniel is as a person; he feels drawn to unconventional and strange and sees beauty where others might not. He ended up in this situation with vampires too because he wanted to interview people who're rejected by the society.

If Daniel already had some sort of relationship with Armand in the past it makes sense that it would be associated with Alice in his mind. There may be an overlap between the timelines of those relationships. A memory of Armand rises when Daniel is reminded of Alice rejecting his marriage proposal, in the books Armand rejected his wish to be turn him into a vampire, which would've been something akin to marriage. I think Alice being real is much more compelling for Armand's character too, with Armand expressing surprising understanding and sympathy toward Daniel's wife rather than just speaking about his own experience through an imaginary woman.

Completely putting aside Devil's Minion and is it a thing in the show or not, i think Daniel's family is particularly important to Louis' and Daniel's relationship. Something that hasn't technically been explicitly said but to me seems obvious is that Louis and Daniel strongly relate to each other as fathers. Many scenes where we see Louis and Daniel show vulnerability in front of each other have something to do with their partners and children. In 1.02 as one of the earliest examples of this Louis replicates the dessert Daniel had with Alice, trying to connect with him and his humanity through it, Daniel shares personal memory and they eat together in companionable silence.

I would argue that Claudia, her memory, and Louis' relationship with her is the heart of the story in these first two seasons. Claudia entering the story in 1.04 marks the shift in the interview and Daniel's approach; he becomes both more combative and more emotionally invested. He has a strong reaction to reading Claudia's diaries, and it's not difficult for any parent to guess that he's also imagining her own daughters in similar circumstances to Claudia.

I think this conversation at the end of the episode (alongside Louis' speech to Daniel in San Francisco and them remembering it in 2.05) is the most important scene between Louis and Daniel. They share the understanding what it feels like to have children and love them so much you don't even have words for it, but still fail them. It's not a coincidence that in the original interview in San Francisco what leads to Louis attacking Daniel is Louis telling the story of Claudia leaving alone and Louis going back to Lestat, and Daniel acting dismissively and clearly not understanding why this is so painful memory to Louis. Daniel was young, stupid and high - and he didn't have children yet. Daniel now wouldn't act like that when hearing this story, and he doesn't in 1.06 when hearing it again. And notably when Louis says that he would now agree to turn Daniel, Daniel says he doesn't want it anymore and specifically mentions his daughters as one of the reasons. Having to watch your children die before you is the most horrifying thing in the world. It's something Louis had to go through and Daniel wishes he never has to, even if vampirism still intrigues him.

Daniel realizes quickly that it all comes down to Louis' feelings of guilt and shame about failing Claudia and his inability to protect her, because he has similar feelings about his own daughters. Louis' story unravels in s1 finale because Daniel recognizes that Louis' more palatable narrative around what happened with Claudia isn't fully true. Daniel carefully read through Claudia's diaries and tried to learn to understand her, and he positions himself as someone who's trying to defend her integrity and reveal the injustice that was done to her. This is again about Daniel's own children as much as it's about Claudia. He knows that he's a bad father, his daughters don't talk to him anymore and it's implied that he neglected them when focusing on other things that interested him more. When Daniel defends Claudia he's on some level trying to rectify his own mistakes and when he calls Louis out he's also voicing his own self-loathing.

Eric Bogosian remarked that the scene in 2.01 where Louis cries and thanks for Daniel for helping him to remember that Claudia could dream is another shift in their dynamic. Daniel looks at Louis with genuine concern, and after that he tones down his usual sarcasm and jabs significantly. Daniel, again, can sympathize with how important this is for Louis. There's a new sincerity and empathy in their interactions. Sometimes the audience forgets that this story is ultimately about Claudia, but Daniel hasn't forgotten it since he first realized it. They're trying to understand together what happened to Louis' child and everything that led to it. I think if Daniel wasn't a father he would've acted differently, and Louis wouldn't have trusted him in the same way either and been able to share his and Claudia's story. I think this shared sorrow, love and guilt they feel as fathers is one of the most crucial parts of their connection.