#i haven't had inspiration and that saps it out of me more than anything

[yawneneteyam]

ALL THINGS CONNECTED | j. flatters chapter eight ─ the finish line

summary: growing up on the set of avatar: the way of water was a dream. your friends had become your family, all except for one. jamie was the one person you always found yourself drawn to, in ways more complex than the title of 'best friends' [4.8k!!!].

pairing: fem!reader x jamie flatters

notes: based on jamie flatters documentary: all things connected. co-stars/friends to lovers. inspired by @cacapeepee. I have finally made my return!! I cannot promise when the next part with be out but I am trying to write more and more; I missed you all lots, thank you for your patience with me. mentions of swearing & saying goodbye to your best friend, it's literally depressing.

masterlist ⎸ chapter seven | chapter nine

2019. 

"JAMIE, WE'RE IN THE final stretch.. are you gonna miss anything about la?" filip was behind the camera, zooming in on jamie. you could be seen just to the left of him. he was in a black hoodie eating his overpriced lunch from some chain restaurant you forget the name of. 

"uh, yeah" he started, shovelling some more of his food into his mouth, with a cheeky smirk sitting on his lips. the camera picked up you looking at jamie, your head rested against your fist as you sat in admiration of him.

"and what is that?" filip led.

"so many things, man" jamie shook his head. he picked up his water to take a sip before realising it was empty. as the camera began to pan over to duane, it just got you passing your water off to jamie to have a sip of.

"how 'bout you? you gonna miss anything?" filip redirected his questioning to duane.

"well we haven't crossed the finish line yet" duane tried to stay positive. there was only a week or two left of his time on set. the finish line was approaching.

"but are you going to miss la do you think?" filip continued to question his friends, channeling his inner jamie.

"parts of it" he admitted.

"what're you gonna miss the most?” 

"probably you guys" duane shrugged, a sky smile making its way onto his face.

"awe, shut up man" filip cooed, shoving duane a little.

"stop it!" your voice overlapped his.

"shut up, dude" jamie was the last to chime into the gaggle of embarrassed remarks. 

"that was sweet" the camera panned back over to you, who was just getting your water bottle back from jamie.

"and you? what will you miss about la?" the camera just picked up the little warmth that rose to your cheeks.

"i'll miss you guys" you shrugged, picking at your lunch. "i'll miss you guys a lot" you looked from filip, to duane, to jamie.

"you guys a saps, aye" the camera panned to jamie, who was now stretching with his arms in the air, his arm falling on top of your chair once he was fone. “total melts" he chuckled.

"what're you gonna miss? real shit" filip asked him again, not satisfied with his previous answer.

jamie’s hesitation was caught on film, but he soon shrugged with a shy shake of his head. "well it's gonna be you guys, isn't it?" it wasn’t missed how jamie looked at you for the longest when he said that. "you guys are my best friends" he admitted. “i love you guys".

"awe, jamie!" you leant against him, feeling the warmth radiating from him. he reluctantly pulled you in for a side hug and held you tight, knowing that in four weeks he wouldn’t be able to anymore.

"i'm turning this shit off" jamie chuckled, before his hand covered the lens and the screen went black.

three weeks had passed. "what are we gonna do?" jamie’s conviction brought you back to reality as you zoned out against the window of his hotel room.

"what do you mean?" you asked confused. 

"well i leave on thursday" it hit you square in the face as he spoke. he wasn’t wrong. time had inevitably done it’s duty and had creeped up on you unsuspectingly. you were counting down the days until you had to say goodbye and part, but hearing him say it- made it all the more real.

"i know" you admittedly quietly. jamie was sat on the floor across from you, the sun hitting him just right. his hair had finally started to grow out more, he looked so beautiful in that light. how you wished his camera was in your hands, ready to capture this moment. for now, you would just have to savour it in your mind.

"i dont wanna not be friends anymore after this.. you know?" jamie began to fidget with his fingers, something you noticed he does regularly.

"i know" your heart sunk hearing the vulnerability in his voice. "we're still gonna be friends" you managed to reach his eyes as he looked up briefly. "we'll get to see each other for press" mustering a poor excuse of a smile, you slipped off of the windowsill and sat on the ground with jamie.

"i dont want to wait two years to see you y/n" your legs were touching, he involuntarily found himself leaning into the feeling of you against him.

"we won't, i promise" you shoved him slightly with your foot, making him look up at you. he found solace in the small smile you were offering him.

it was quiet for a little after that, until jamie spoke again. "i have another job lined up, a film" he admitted.

“that’s exciting.. i've got an audition next week" 

"you didn't tell me that" he managed to bite back his scoff.

"i didn't want to jinx it" you shrugged, "it's for a show" you told him.

"that's so cool" he tried to relax his head against the bed, but he stopped once he realised he wouldn’t be able to see you as well. he had to drink you in whilst he could.

"yeah.. we'll see" you chuckled. your lip found it’s way between your teeth before you spoke up again, “i'm gonna miss you jamie".

he looked up from his fingers that he was still picking at to watch your demeanour fall. "i'm gonna miss you more" he admitted.

"can't believe it's over" he caught wind of the small crack in your voice.

"how fucked is that" he sniffed, his emotions starting to ger the best of him. "i'm gonna really miss you" he wiped at his nose as it began to run at the thought of being finished on set. "you have no idea" he scoffed. "you're my best friend, y/n" jamie sniffled again before finally finding the courage to look at you.

you had a few tears falling down your face as you smiled at him sadly. "you're my best friend too, jamie" you managed to chuckle, "i love you" a shrug followed in suit. 

"i love you too" he nodded. he had to fight the urge inside of him to bring you into his arms and keep you there forever.

"i'm scared to go home" you admitted, that brought him back.

"why?" he found himself leaning closer toward you, like two kids sharing secrets.

"my parents fight lots" you whispered almost, "so being here for as long as we have been has been insane, it's been so good just to be out of the house".

jamie was lucky in that retrospect. his parents were together, he had two great brothers who he loved. he couldn’t imagine anything but when it came to family. "i'm sorry y/n" he whispered in reutnr.

"don't be sorry," you shrugged, sniffling. "i mean that's life. it's just hard sometimes… but i'm gonna try and get more work so i can move out eventually".

"you can come live with me" jamie offered.

"you wish" you scoffed, looking up to the ceiling as you wiped your eyes dry. "you'd get sick of me" you chuckled.

"i could never get sick of you, y/n" jamie said in return. anyone who was listening in would think he was just joking around with her, but he knew the weight of his words. "don't forget about me when you go, yeah?".

"jamie" you started, "i could never, ever, forget about you" shaking your head slowly, you reached out and grabbed his hand in yours.

"promise?" he asked quietly.

"i promise" you whispered back.

"i really do love you y/n"

"i love you more" you squeezed his hand a little bit tighter.

"have i ever said how beautiful your smile is?" you hadn’t even realised that you were smiling at this point.

"what?"

"you have a beautiful smile, y/n" he held his gaze with yours, taking in the way you looked at him. it made jamie feel like he was the only one on this earth worthy of you looking their way.

"t-thanks"

"you've changed my entire life y/n" 

"you've changed mine.. like you have no idea" you held in a chuckle as another tear fell down your face. "what time do you leave thursday?".

"my flight is at eight, you're in makeup at at seven" jamie wiped at his nose again with his free hand, a welcome distraction from the things he was feeling.

"so i can't go say goodbye" you whispered.

"we can say goodbye before" jamie squeezed your hand again, you forgot you were even holding it.

"i wish you were staying" 

"me too" he nodded.

"you need to go to sleep” you chuckled, pulling away and beginning to get up from your place on the floor.

“oh yeah? and what about you?” he chuckled, looking up at you and hoping that you could both stay there for a little longer. “we have the same call time” he reminded you.

“yeah but you get grumpy when you don’t sleep” you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your stuff from his bed.

“i do not” jamie argued back, sniffling away the last of his tears.

“yes you do” you whispered, giving him a hand to help him stand up.

“oh shut up” he said softly, chuckling along with you.

“as much as i’m enjoying sitting here with you, you need to get some rest” you smiled.

“you’re not wrong,” jamie nodded, walking you over to the door. “you’ve got lots of crying to do over me tomorrow” one of the last scenes you filmed together would be neteyam’s death, a fitting end. “do you want me to walk you back?” he asked as you opened the door.

“it’s okay jamie, it’s like twenty metres away” you room was just down the hall.

“you never know what can happen in that amount of time” he raised his eyebrows at you in response.

“goodnight jamie!” you called as you walked away from him.

“night y/n” 

“bro, watch his head, watch his head” you were all in the water, hauling jamie up onto the ledge of the pool. you pushed the last of jamie up onto the ledge before crawling up after him.

“just watch his head” sam said as he laid jamie down against the jagged pieces of set.

“it’s okay bro, we’ve got you” britain spoke as you got up near his head, holding it close to you. you gave sam the room to move as needed but made sure you stayed with jamie up at the front.

sam turned jamie around, you held his head so he wouldn’t hit it on anything as sam checked for an exit wound.“oh, oh no” he stuttered out. you pushed jack out of the way to get a look at his back. you covered your mouth, tears starting to fall from your mouth.

“tey, i-” jamie began, you cut him off as he panted.

“it’s okay ma’ teyam” you scrambled back over to be at his head, looking down at him with tearful eyes.

“put pressure,” sam growled, grabbing britain’s hands harshly. “put pressure on it” he moved britain’s hands to jamie’s chest.

“te-“ jamie tried to stumble out once more.

“it’s okay, i’m here” you said when his breath got caught in his chest. you offered him a reassuring smile as more tears fell at a rapid rate. “i’ve got you” you caressed his cheek and nodded at him. “everything is okay” you said.

jamie’s gaze moved from yours to sam’s who was starting to cry too. “dad-“ he said, you felt jamie grip onto you and you watched as he did the same to sam.

“i’m here” sam nodded, looking down at jamie. the sound effects went off as zoe came in, she ran through the small crowd you had all formed around jamie. 

“no, no, no” she muttered, watching him with wide eyes.

jamie struggled to get his breath steady as he looked from you, to zoe, to sam.“i want to go home” he panted. you couldn’t help but lean down against him, your head next to his. 

“i know, i know” sam cried, trying to hold it all together. “it’s okay, we’re going home” he lied. “we’re going home” you listened as sam said his line and jamie’s breath began to become more rapid as he fought to take breaths in. “it’s okay, it’s okay” sam reminded him softly.

“dad, i…” you felt jamie go limp against your hold.

your eyes snapped open as you got up to look at jamie, his eyes open with nothing in them. “neteyam?” zoe whispered. your breaths quickened as you tried to hold in your sobs. “no, no, no, no” zoe came forwards, holding onto him. “neteyam!” she screamed.

“oh my- no” you sat up away from jamie, watching as he laid there still. “please” you whispered. “please, please, please no” you gripped at your chest, you felt your heart plummet as you watched him there lifeless.

zoe’s greif fuelled scream filled your eyes. “oh great mother,” zoe sobbed, bringing jamie up to hold him against her chest. “no great mother! my son! no!” 

you cried as jack pulled you into his arms, you felt your chest constrict with grief and panic. your sobs only grew as britain began to cry too. jack brought you in over his shoulder as you screamed.

“and cut”

“no, no, no!” you kept crying, the emotion fell from you. it was involuntarily as you screamed over jack’s shoulder. you felt his grip tighten on you as he sat up and started to talk to you, but you didn’t process what was happening.

“y/n?” jamie moved over so he could pull you back from jack. 

“kid” sam came over, his hand on your head. you finally snapped out of it as jamie pulled you into his arms. you watched as bailey and zoe came over too.

“y/n?” zoe grabbed your face in her hands, “are you okay?” she asked softly. you blinked heavily as you caught your breath again.

“i’m sorry” you whispered quickly.

“it’s okay” jamie held you tighter as you calmed down, “you’re okay” he promised.

“i’m so sorry” you said again looking at everyone.

jim had also made his way over. he looked down at you before crouching down to your height. “you okay?” he asked. you nodded shakily, zoe still holding you as she looked into your eyes, almost asking you to be honest with her. “let’s take ten and we’ll go again, okay? take some time” james patted you on the back before heading off to confer with the producers. 

“c’mere” jamie pulled your chin toward him so you were looking up at him. “what’s happened? what’s wrong?” he asked. zoe stayed close, making sure you were okay.

“i-i don’t know” you stuttered, “i just- i just kept crying.. i think i-i’m just tired and i didn’t realise we had cut” you weren’t sure what happened. you weren’t lying. it was almost like you were watching the scene play out in front of you instead of being there. watching jamie just lay there.

“y/n” jamie raised his eyebrows at you, hoping this was the full truth you were giving him.

“i really don’t know” you shook your head. “i-i’m not sure.. i’m okay” you tried to give him a little smile.

“c’mere” jamie wiped your tears away from your cheeks. you embarrassedly oushed him away, doing it yourself- wiping at your now running nose.

“i’m sorry,” you chuckled, trying to recover from the last few minutes.

“it’s okay, you’re okay” jamie nodded, trying his best to reassure you.

“im sorry” you looked from him to zoe. 

“you’re okay” she waved it off casually, trying her best to help you move on from it. 

“you’re safe, yeah?” jamie held your head against his chest. “i’m here, i’ve gotcha” he nodded, offering you a smile.

“what happened today?” 

you were sat in bailey’s hotel room, both laying facing the ceiling. some movie was on in the background, but neither of you were really paying attention anymore. bailey admittedly, like the rest of your castmates, were worried about you after shooting your scene today. you were able to reshoot it, not letting yourself fall to deeply into it this time. 

“i don’t know really” you admitted to her. you turned your head so you were looking at her. she had a crease in her eyebrows, a tell-tale sign that she didn’t believe you.

“are you alright?” she asked, the crease only getting worse. 

“yeah, i think so” you offered, “just couldn’t really snap out of it i guess”.

bailey could always tell how you were feeling, she just had a way of doing it. she knew you felt embarrassed still about this morning. “it’s a hard scene, y/n” she tried her best to comfort you.

“i just felt so stupid” you shrugged, looking back up at the roof.

“why?” 

“because i just kept crying” you scoffed at the memory of today. the way jamie had to physically pull you out of that state.

“you don’t need to feel stupid because of that” bailey grabbed your hand.

you knew that there was more to it. there were so many unspoken feelings going through your head. “it’s nearly over bailey” so you decided to let one slip. “we’re just supposed to pack up and go home” you shook your head in disbelief.

“we still have three more movies left, y/n” she reminded you, like a punch in the face.

“i’ve got one” you admitted. bailey sat up quickly, a shocked look sat on her features. “i’m not contracted on the last two” you told her.

“what?!” she exclaimed.

“yeah,” you nodded.

“wow” she sighed.

you didn’t meet her gaze as you spoke. “jamie leaves in two days. duane is already gone. i leave in a week. the rest of you guys finish two days after that” you let all of your thoughts run wild over your tongue. “what then? we wait two years for the movie to come out and then we do press and it’s over again” the entire process of just having to leave was messing with your head. “this has been almost three years of our lives, how am i just supposed to move on from that?” you asked her, finally looking her way.

“you don’t have to just move on, y/n” she grabbed your hand. you weren’t sure when a fifteen year old got so wise, or when you started using bailey as a personal therapist, but you were so proud of her.

“i feel like i’m expected to,” you told her, “i don’t want this to end yet,”.

“me either,” she whispered. you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. you pulled it out to see a text from jamie.

text: how should we spend our last day together?

you huffed, turning your phone around to show bailey. she read over the message as you spoke, “how do i even respond to that?”.

“mm, i don’t know. what do you want to do?” she asked. 

“i’m honestly not even sure” you held your breath for a few seconds before sighing out “.. i’m gonna miss him a lot”

“hey,” bailey looked down at you, still holding your hand. “just because we’re not filming anymore doesn’t mean we aren’t all going to be friends forever. i don’t think anyone could take you away from jamie, you two are like inseparable” she laughed with an eyeroll, “you two not seeing each other every day is going to change that”.

“i guess” you nodded.

“it’s not an i guess” she said, “you two are special”.

“i like him so much” you whispered to her. 

“i know” she nodded. “why don’t you just tell him?” she shrugged, like it was nothing. as if the weight of your entire friendship with him didn’t hang in the balance.

“i can’t do that” you shook your head quickly. “we live in different countries, we’ll work different schedules, we have such a good friendship.. and i don’t want to lose that” you admitted.

“he would never let that happen” she smiled, “and neither would you”.

“jack, stop screaming!! we’re gonna get caught!” bailey shouted over at him. jamie laughed as he pulled you into his arms, your head rested in the crook of his arm. you watched as britain passed the ball off to bailey, to bounces it over to jack.

“dunk it, you got it” britain calls.

“and he goes for the lay-up!” filip has jamie’s camera in hand, filming jamie’s last night with you all. jack jumps and tries to bounce the ball from the backboard into the ring, but misses.

“i said dunk it dude” britain stood with his arms out, an almost offended look on his face.

“what are you gonna do when you get back home?” you asked, looking up at jamie. he watches his friends for a little bit longer before looking down at you. you looked so pretty, he thought.

“i’ve got a few weeks before i start filming forgotten battle” he told you, “just see some friends, catch up on everything i’ve missed”.

“i bet your friends miss you” you smiled softly.

“and yours don’t?” he chuckled.

“they tell me they do, but they look alright without me.. happy” you let another rampant thought slip out. it just happened when you were with jamie, you knew you were safe from judgement or anything else.

“it’s weird, watching everything go on back home isn’t it?” he agreed with you.

“a little” you nodded.

“are you gonna be okay going back home?” he had been meaning to ask you for the last few weeks, but in the chaos of everything he never found the right opportunity to ask you.

“yeah.. i think so” you nodded, trying not to think about having to go back home to your parents. “it will be different being back home again. take some time to get used to it” you nodded, almost trying to convince yourself that you were telling the truth. “i’m just gonna keep auditioning until i find something else” that would be your way out.

“well hopefully you ace the audition on monday” he smiled, already knowing you would. he had been lucky enough to see you during an audition process in the flesh. he knows you’re great in the audition room.

“hopefully” you chuckle.

“britain, pass!” jack called, ready to go for another lay-up.

“are you two gonna play? or just mope?” filip turned around, getting a zoomed-in shot of you laying with your head on jamie’s shoulder.

“you wanna?” he asked. part of you wanted to just say no and stay in this little bubble with just you and jamie, but you knew you couldn’t. you had to drink it up whilst you could, next week you would be back home and your friends would be back to their normal lives.

“yeah, sure” you nodded, getting up. “better make the most of it” you helped jamie up from the floor. filip came over and passed the camera to jamie, before running off and stealing the ball from jack.

“oh filip’s just dashed it” jamie laughed following him.

“i like running!” filip said looking straight into the camera. 

“to me!” you called running over toward the ring, “i want it,”.

“she’s feelin’ it!” jamie called filming you, “she wants it!!”.

“oh!” britain called as you stepped back and shot the ball straight into the ring with a swish.

“let’s go!” filip called.

“i’m just that good!” you held your arms out, a smug look on your face. “watch me dunk it” jack bounced the ball back over to you. “agh, wait” you jumped, but to no avail, there was no way you were making that.

“wait, wait-“ jamie passed his camera off to bailey before jogging over to you. she zoomed in as jamie put his hands on your waist to lift you up to the ring. “brace yourself” he said as he lifted you. you almost forgot to even try to put the ball in the ring, too caught up with the feeling of jamie’s hands gripping your waist tightly.

“go, go, go!” jamie called from underneath you. you broke out of your haze and were able to just reach the ring and put the ball through the hoop.

“yes!!” filip called.

“she was flying” bailey commentated behind the camera. “it was beautiful” she smiled. she turned the camera around to face herself, forgetting about the zoomed in frame- oblivious to the fact that it was only getting her lips as she spoke. “that’s cinema guys” she nodded.

jamie came over and grabbed the camera back from bailey, letting out a small thank you. he reset the frame and started to film you. “say goodbye to the camera” he said.

“say goodbye?” you asked, your eyebrows raised.

“yeah” he nodded.

“goodbye camera” you waved, coming closer to the lens. “i’m gonna miss you a lot” you said before blowing it multiple kisses.

“it’s gonna miss you too” jamie said, before switching it off for the night.

“well, that’s it then” you and jamie stood at your hotel room door. the hallway was empty, it being so late you assumed everyone was probably asleep.

“this is it” jamie nodded, his hands in his pockets, suddenly shy in front of you. he hadn’t felt this small in front of you since the first day you met, but knowing the intimacy of the situation, he had reverted back into his shell. “good luck with your audition” he said, rocking on the balls of his feet nervously.

“i’ll need it,” you laughed softly, pushing your head out of your face.

“no” he shook his head, “you won’t”.

the silence was beginning to engulf you both, and you would be damned if you let it ruin your last moments with jamie.“i’m gonna miss you” you said softly.

“c’mere” jamie swallowed the lump in his throat before pulling you into his embrace. he held you tightly and close to himself. he could smell your shampoo as he rested his head against yours.

“i love you lots” you whispered. jamie could hear that you had started to cry, which only made him more emotional. 

“i love you lots as well” he said, trying to hold back his tears.

“don’t forget about me?” you asked, your face buried in jamie’s jacket.

“i could never” he chuckled, you could hear his smile. “come to london, yeah?” he looked down at you, pulling away slightly.

you met his gaze with your big eyes. he gently wiped the tears off of your cheeks. “eventually,” you nodded.

“promise?” he asked.

“i promise” you nodded. you sniffled before reaching into your jacket pocket, “i got you something” you said. pulling out a small box from your pocket.

“what?” jamie was taken aback as you passed it to him.

“like a goodbye for now present” you shrugged. jamie opened the small box to find a silver ring sitting inside. it was beautiful, even more so because it came from you. “i saw it at that markets bailey and i went to, it made me think of you” you said, wiping your tears again.

“y/n” he let out a sad laugh as his first tears fell. he brought you into him embrace again and held you closer than he ever thought possible. “thank you, i love it” he whispered you’re your hair, “thank you”.

when you pulled away, jamie was looking down at you with a face you hadn’t seen from him before. “why are you looking at me like that?” you chuckled.

“just, because..” he shook his head. because i’m in love with you, he thought. “thank you for everything. this entire experience has been crazy, and i feel so incredibly blessed to have met you and to have done it all with you”

“thank you jamie” you grabbed his face with your hands and he wouldn’t be lying if he had hope you were going to kiss him. “for everything” you just nodded though, taking in the moment. “i’m gonna miss you” you whispered.

“i’m gonna miss you too” he said softly.

“i better go” you slowly let go of him and offered a sad smile.

“you’ve got an early call time” he nodded.

“you’ve got an early flight” you shot back, “be safe” you said before getting out your room card.

“course,” jamie nodded. “text me?” he asked.

“yeah,” you whispered with a nod. your hotel door opened and you started to walk inside, but not before turning back to look at jamie once more.

“g’night, y/n” he said. kiss her, kiss her now.

“night jamie” you whispered. but he didn’t kiss you. he just let you go back inside, and was left to regret it for the next year until he saw you again.

finally back! thank you so much for your patience, support and love. without that I wouldn't have come back. I'm really proud of this one, let me know your thoughts. sending so much love!

[rilamelafin]

We'll Figure It Out

Fandom: Dragon Age The Veilguard Rating: T Pairing: Female Mourn Watch Mage Elf Rook/Lucanis Dellamorte Tags: 5+1 Things, Falling in Love [Read on AO3]

~~~

His escape from the Ossuary had been too fast for formal introductions. Venatori, demonic experiments, Calivan. Lucanis had barely given his rescuer — an elvhen woman who went by Rook — any information about Spite, only what was strictly necessary. Then, it had been the news of Caterina's death, and his new contract to kill the elvhen gods. He was still reeling from it all when they had returned to Rook's base in the Fade, a place she called the Lighthouse.

There had been concerns from the other two mages — Neve and Bellara — of course. Neither had answers to his circumstance that didn't involve killing him. Not out of the question, he figured, but not the ideal solution. He had a job to do, and he couldn't complete it if he was dead.

Spite threw a tantrum like a child, of course, when denied what he wanted. Lucanis asked for a moment to himself after that, to wait out Spite until he became bored. It was nearly an hour before Rook returned to check on him. He opened the floor for her questions, preferring to get this part over with sooner than later. Bad enough he was an abomination, he didn't need lingering doubts about his abilities hanging in the air. Rook asked him how he had been captured and taken to the Ossuary and, more surprisingly, if he was alright with the contract to help her. As if he could refuse the contract, even if he had wanted to. Besides, he owed her a debt for getting him out of that prison.

"You haven't asked about Spite," he noted when she gave him a warm welcome, as though she were preparing to wrap up their conversation. He was grateful she didn't give him a pitying look.

"We'll figure it out," she answered. They were not words that inspired confidence, though she spoke them easily. "I'm no stranger to spirits, but if there's anything in particular you think I should know…"

"Leave Spite to me. If he's trapped in this world, he has good reason to fight for it."

She surprised him again by calling him admirable for what he endured in the Ossuary, but he deflected. Called himself stubborn instead, and it made her laugh. At least he hadn't forgotten how to do that in the past year.

---

Weisshaupt was an unmitigated disaster. The eluvian had been moved. Darkspawn and blight around every turn. His lungs burned, smoke and rot entering his body with every breath. He'd learned quickly since escaping the Ossuary with Rook that she was a magnet for 'a change in plans'. It seemed every time she made one, something happened to turn it on its side.

The undead rebellion she'd told him about that got her removed from the Grand Necropolis in the first place.

The attempt to disrupt Solas' ritual, which resulted in their current mess with now two elvhen gods attempting to destroy all of Thedas.

The recruitment of the Grey Warden, Davrin, only to be followed by joint attacks against Minrathous and Treviso. She'd saved his city, but Neve's home had suffered.

And now here in Weisshaupt, where Ghilan'nain loomed over them in the sky.

"She's a cloud!" he shouted over the chaos as they sprinted through the massive keep. "How do I kill a cloud with a dagger?!"

"We'll figure it out!" she yelled back.

To her credit, she didn't sound nearly as panicked as she should have.

---

They had all but dragged him back to the Lighthouse; he'd barely been able to stand on his own. Whatever Illario had done to him had sapped his energy, and left Spite oddly silent. How his cousin had been able to use blood magic, Lucanis did not know, but he needed to find out. He could not be that vulnerable again. He — He lost control of Spite and nearly killed the last remaining member of his family. Lucanis' stomach twisted at the memory. The demon's anger as Lucanis was forced to be a spectator in his own body. The feel of his dagger in hand, so familiar but all wrong. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to hold Spite back — to beg Moira to get Illario out of there. Instead, she and Emmrich had needed to carry Lucanis himself out of Treviso and through the Crossroads. It had been unusually quiet — and still was — with Spite silenced as he was. Lucanis wasn't sure when the demon would reawaken, but he knew he wasn't gone. He could still feel Spite, as though curled into an angry little ball in the back of his mind. There was a gentle knock at the pantry door before Moira stepped inside. "How are you feeling?" she asked. It felt like a loaded question. With Spite silenced, Lucanis felt physically weakened — like half of his strength belonged to the demon now. How much of him was truly still left? "I'm fine." From the frown on her pretty lips, that was the wrong answer. "You don't have to do that, you know." "Do what?" "Pretend nothing is wrong. I was worried about you, Lucanis. I am worried." "You have more important things to concern yourself with. Once Spite awakens, I'll —" As though summoned by the utterance of his name, the demon roared to life. Betrayer! Kill. Him! Moira flinched, no doubt struck from the force of Spite's anger and sudden appearance, though she could not hear Spite in the same way that Emmrich could. Lucanis managed to keep control of his body this time. Moira was gracious enough not to comment on the outburst. "You're important to me," she said instead, straightforward in the way she always was. "So you're important enough to worry for." No worry. Kill! Lucanis tried to focus on what Moira said next, but between Spite's enraged shouting and his own efforts to keep the demon at bay, he missed nearly every word. It was why he was surprised when her hand found his and gave it a firm squeeze. "Spite, I understand you are angry, but you need to let Lucanis and I talk." He was always a little in awe of how she spoke so easily to Spite, unafraid yet sympathetic. It was the same as Emmrich, no doubt a result of their respective time in the Mourn Watch. Always talk. Even more surprising was the way Spite always seemed willing to listen to her, though even now he grumbled about it. Still, it was blessedly quiet in Lucanis' mind again. He could kiss her — but no, that had nearly gotten him in trouble once before. "Thank you." "Share your burden with me?" "What would you have me say? I lost control and nearly killed my cousin. If you and Emmrich hadn't been there—" He cut himself off, unwilling to think of just what, exactly, Spite would have done "But we were," she answered, voice soft and altogether too kind for the mistakes Lucanis had made. "And you did hold Spite back." "And what am I to do about Illario?" It was the question he truly wanted an answer to, but was afraid of what that answer might be. If Illario was working with the Venatori — with Zara Renata — could Lucanis afford to let him live? Could he live with himself if he truly had to kill the last of his family? Moira squeezed his hand again. "We'll figure it out." And she sounded so certain, he didn't have room to argue.

---

He cherished these quiet moments between them, seated on the couch in the library, her legs across his lap as she read a book borrowed from Emmrich's personal shelves. His own book — the one Harding had chosen for book club, Mistress of the Scarlet Moon — wasn't holding his attention well, but that mattered little. He was enjoying the time with Moira, late into what passed for night in the Lighthouse, when everyone else was sleeping. One of his hands rested on the calf of her leg, thumb idly tracing over the fabric of her trousers. Their relationship was still fragile — new and not entirely defined. She was patient, content to let him set the pace of… whatever this was. The Ossuary was not yet far enough behind him. Spite, though he and the demon had come to an agreement, was still an unpredictable force in the back of his mind. He hadn't realized he had been staring at the same line in his book for far too long until Moira's hand settled on his, a shock that snapped his eyes to her. "You're thinking very loudly," she teased as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Lucanis closed his book, a finger kept between the pages to mark his place. He hadn't even noticed her setting her book on the table, he'd been so distracted with his thoughts. "Just realizing that I don't know what I did to deserve you," he answered, pleased to see a pretty blush across her cheeks even as she beamed at him. His own emotions were still so tangled with regard to her. He wanted her — he would have to be blind not to — but he'd spent the better part of a year shutting down every part of himself that had ever dared to hope. Hope for freedom. Hope to feel a soft touch from another person again. Hope for a future. There was so little of himself that he could offer her. "You're thoughtful." He shouldn't have been surprised that she was giving him an answer, but he was anyway. "The first thing you did after you settled in here was make a grocery list of foods to make our team happy. You made a Nevarran hazelnut torte because it pairs well with my favorite coffee." "It was nothing." "Or not enough, I remember." Her hand squeezed his again, the lines around her eyes soft as she looked up at him. "What brought these thoughts on?" Lucanis looked away from her now, struggled to find the words. "I am… not the man I was before the Ossuary." An oversimplification, but a place to start. "Yet you still wanted me. An abomination." "Lucanis…" "Spite and I, we have an agreement now, thanks to you. But he is still unpredictable. Still a demon." He glanced back in time to see her bite the inside of her cheek, no doubt to stop herself from correcting him again. Spirit, she always said. "How can you see beyond that? How are we going to…" Lucanis sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as he slammed the spine of his book into the couch. There was a moment of silence between them, her hand still firmly grasping his. Moira waited until he finally opened his eyes and looked at her again before she answered. "We'll figure it out." With her, he was starting to believe it.

---

He hadn't meant to start dozing — naked, head on her lap, her fingers brushing gently through his hair — and denied falling asleep when she called him on it with affection and laughter in her voice. He didn't want to waste any time now that she had returned to him. Those weeks Moira had been missing, locked in Solas' Fade prison, had been agony for Lucanis. He'd thought he would never see her again, and that idea had gutted him — to lose her without ever telling her how he felt about her. He hadn't allowed himself to even acknowledge those feelings, too afraid of the marks the Ossuary had left on him. Of course, she had just spent the better part of the night tracing every scar on his body with her lips and tongue. "You still have to sleep sometimes," she teased. Her fingers continued to brush through his hair. "With you here, like this?" He gave her body a slow, deliberate once-over, drinking in the sight of her pale skin, full breasts, toned stomach. A light blush spread across her cheeks in response to his gaze. "I'd rather stay awake." "Stay awake all night? However shall we pass the time?" Moira's question was asked lightly, with no real expectation. That she never placed any on his shoulders, after an entire life of obeying Caterina's commands, was just another thing he loved about her. "Would you talk to me? Your voice is a comfort." A month ago, he would never have asked. Would never have shown such vulnerability. Losing Moira and finding her again had shifted his priorities. "I'll tell you the tale of the charming rogue who stole the heart of a hapless hero," she offered. How she thought so little of herself, he couldn't understand. She had saved him so many times from the moment they had met. Lucanis didn't want to imagine what he would do if he lost her again. "Moira… Tomorrow…" She pressed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing his fears. "Whatever happens, we'll take it on together," she answered. "All I have to do is kill a god to keep you out of trouble. Easy." Her smile was soft, affectionate. "We'll figure it out." Looking in her eyes, feeling her skin against his, he believed her. Lucanis reached out and cupped the back of her head, drawing her in to kiss her. Whatever tomorrow brought, he didn't want to waste another moment when he could taste her on his lips instead.

---

She stood before Lucanis now, possibly their last moment to speak to one another before they faced Elgar'nan. It wouldn't be their last moment ever — he would make certain of that. Spite was restless, eager to enter the next fight and he done with all of this, but Moira was a balm to both of their spirits. Lucanis had shown her a dozen different ways the night before how he felt about her, how important she was to him. Yet here she stood, anxiety curling over her shoulders enough for him to notice. "If I'd never gone to the Crows," she said. "If I'd never found you… I'm just so grateful I did." There was fear in her voice. Was she truly so uncertain of his affection for her, even now? He was a bit ashamed to realize he'd never before expressed it in words. "As am I," he answered. "More than I've ever told you. Rook… Moira… saying I owe you my life is not enough. You know my mind." She had walked through it herself — had faced each of his insecurities since he'd left the Ossuary physically, if not mentally. "I've assumed you know my heart because… it beats for you. It's been beating—" His throat felt tight and there were tears gathering in her eyes. Lucanis took a breath. "When I wanted you. When I was afraid to want you… Tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms, and I will kill any god you ask." There was nothing she could ask of him that he would refuse. "Lucanis," she whispered. "I—" Spite reminded him, ungraciously, that he still hadn't said it. "I love you, Moira. And I won't let you down." A smile pulled at his lips, a confidence he had little right to carry settling in his chest. "Whatever is next, we'll figure it out." Moira broke into a watery laugh, the tears finally falling over her cheeks as she cupped his face in both hands and kissed him fiercely, with no regard for who might be watching. "Yes, we will."

[nerdydowntherabbithole]

Okay, I've sent a lot of asks talking about my stuff, but I need to take a moment to say thank you.

I've only recently got into making art, and up until now it was slow going. Sometimes I just wouldn't have the energy to draw, or I straight up couldn't think of anything that I wanted to draw. But then I stumbled onto "Taking Life As Is" and it energized something in me.

I've been pumping out new art of completely original creatures at a ridiculous rate, taking the time to actually research real life animals for reference, something I've rarely had the patience to do before.

I can't believe it's only been 3 days since that ask where I came up with One Thousand Silent Eyes, the first OC to ever leave my brain. In 3 days, I've filled eleven whole pages of my journal. That blows my mind.

So thank you. Thank you for the wonderful story in a fandom that is desperately short on those, but more than that, thank you for inspiring me. For the first time in years, I'm creating things for myself, instead of consuming things made by others.

Without your wonderful story and constant shared excitement for not just my ideas, but everybody's awesome ideas, I don't know how long I would have gone without that drive to create. Thank you. <3

(Sorry if this is too serious or self-important, I tend to ramble when I need to express what I'm thinking. Dont feel any pressure to answer this if you dont want to!)

HI HELLO. UH. I needed to go lay down for a min after this so I didn't just outright start bawling my ACTUAL eyes out in a /srs way. And I just can't say enough how little my expressions of gratitude will not live up to the feelings I got. I can type abt screaming and sobbing all I want but AUGH that does NOT live up to it. So all I can do is say thank you thank you THANK YOU. Like I've stated before, I started TLAI as just. A silly little fix it fic that, I am going to tell you now, I thought I would barely get over 100 kudos in like. A month or two. My writing experience is basically sequestered to fandoms that have zero members other than myself and my dear friends, making small drabbles for said friends. AND UH. YEAH. AS YOU CAN SEE IT HAS GONE A LITTLE OUT OF THAT RANGE BY NOW. It is ABSOLUTELY guys like u that keep me motivated and confident in my own work. It is beyond the highest honor for me to ever hear that I have actively inspired ANYONE, honestly. Especially to this degree. It is BEYOND wild. Especially because your stuff is so GENUINELY massively awesome. It is so cool. I would have never guessed that you haven't just been doing this forever. SO UH YEAH. MUTUAL SAP. IM TAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS AND SHAKING YOU. THANK U SO MUCH. I NEED TO GO AND CRY NOW.

[ayyymeric]

i think i’m just gonna give up on art

[aikainkauna]

It's very sweet of you to say that; thank you. I wish I had that kind of faith in my wri--no, actually, scratch that, because people who think they are super-talented geniuses are often such cunts, and don't bother to use enough quality control at times because they're overconfident. See every rubbish writer whose personal views and fetishes and personalities/egos shine through in their works to the point of embarrassment squick. (Not that you *can't* write about your fetishes and views, but good writers make those relatable and immersive instead of making the reader wince.)

Anyway, considering the amount of time I spend rereading and re-editing my fics (for word choices rather than chopping out pieces, mind), I have the opposite problem in that I always find something that embarrasses me and I want to fix it. The usual syndrome of the poet who is never 100% satisfied and is still revising her poems on her deathbed. (The other day, I realised--to my horror--that if I were a film director, I'd be the female von Stroheim. Complete with whip.) So what's difficult, almost impossible for me is to decide when something should be left alone and what could/ should be tweaked. It's easier for me to leave alone shitty old fics in fandoms I'm no longer active in, but from 2012 (i.e. Anno Veidt) onwards, all the Conniefic is this living, breathing work I'm engaging with all the time, like a wild-ish garden. I'm constantly planting new stuff and raking away dry leaves, but haven't got the heart to prune every sprawling rosebush full of gaping bums (but I may change the 'hole's into 'anus'es and 'juices' and 'pre-ejaculate's into 'sap's). But it's always difficult to not overstep and go all George Lucas on that stuff. Should I preserve 2014 Grouse, even if 2018 Grouse's way of expressing the same thing is a bit more refined, since her vocabulary is better?

But, IDK. Now I rambled mostly about re-editing older fic. And this is a bit different. The problems I'm running into are the good old syndrome of having said/done the same things a million times already, and the quietness of the fandom because I don't get the stimulation that talking about the ships/movies/fics provides. The latter alone could keep me going indefinitely, but people tend to drift away and/or have lives (and that's human) and the rest of the Veidt fandom is full of asexuals (which is fair enough) or outright prudes (which is tiring) or child-women or such mind-blind types I can't even have a normal pervy fangirl conversation about ships and porny fic with them. So I don't really have the chance to grab more inspiration/confidence because the dynamic interpersonal back-and-forth (which is like an engine for fic!) isn't there. There have been like... maybe half a dozen of the usual fanficcer types in that fandom?! (Why did the timeline of the woman who wrote the first slashfic and was *also* a Connie fan not overlap with mine? The injustice!)

Anyway, now I digress into whining again. But it's definitely an unusual thing, having to find your way in the dark and to write all the fic in a fandom without never quite knowing what works in the way you want it to work (rant about the death of fic commenting culture here. Thanks a lot for making everyone paranoid, Tumblr moral police and anxiety culture. Works real well on top of The Patriarchy and Shitty Female Self-Esteem already making women ashamed of/bullied and traumatised out of expressing sexuality or anything else, for that matter). Oh, godsfuckingdammit, but I am a grumpy sod tonight, aren't I? I could've used all these keystrokes on Roses 24 instead!

Anyway, bottom line: I know people come in for the porn. I don't want to let them down. The moment they think it's gen, they fuck off--The Fields of Longing has some of the hottest and queerest and rawest sex scenes I've ever written for Jaffar/Pwinzezz, but guess what? Despite all those kinks listed in the tags, I made the mistake of using a cute and funny and characteristic scene as my excerpt in the summary and it's one of my least read ToBfics. But mention "rimming" or "a sadistic Nazi baron" and WLW pussynommings in the summary and BOOM, blockbuster time.

So, you know. I am not going to fool myself; the poetry and the history and the OCs and the mysticism are treats for myself and not what 98% of the readers come in for. And I hate false advertising so fucking much, and those fics that put in one clumsy paragraph-long sex scene at the end just to hike the rating up, to lure in readers. So, having been disappointed by those myself, I don't want to inflict that same kind of emotional suffering onto anyone else. It's like getting someone hot and wet and then suddenly cockblocking them, and that's *low.* If it fuckin' says Explicit and the tags list kinky shit, I want to give people their money's worth.

I know. Fucking laughable of me to think of the readers so much since nobody comments anymore and it's the done thing to take porny fanfic for granted, to not give a shit--but I can't help it; it's an honesty thing, a fairness thing. Is this my mixed Finnish/British acculturation/socialisation thing? Is this toxic femininity-style excessive self-sacrifice again? (It sure as hell is toxic-feminine passive-aggressive bitching, this post, Grouse. Stop whining.)

But I mean it. I'm in tears here because I fucking CARE about the fics and the readers and the characters, sincerely. If I'm pissed off at the death of commenting culture, I am *not* saying that because my ego needs stroking but because of the wider, social, cultural reasons--whenever I'm upset about something it's always, *always* because of a thing's wider implications; personal matters are so small and insignificant when you're looking at the bigger picture. I mourn for collective, human reasons, like the grief an anthropologist feels when watching a dying folk dance, hearing the ancient poems from the lips of the last person who remembers them and who is 101 years old with nobody left to pass it on to. That day the last speaker of a language dies. The grief of looking at Alexandria's ruins and kids using them as toilets, using the last scraps of paper from ancient inventors' books as loo roll.

So, all in all, it's so fucking difficult to get right when you're navigating with no echo, no radar, no knowledge of what works and what doesn't. And the opposite is/was what makes fanfic unique, I find: the human contact. The back-and-forth, the organic feeling, the connectedness, the feeling of yourself and your work being a part of something bigger.

I suppose that's a major part of what being human is all about--wanting to connect, to contribute, to feel like your work matters. And I don't want to lose those connections, the pathways, the human-to-human portals the fic--the sex scenes, specifically--create. I'd hate for it to grow cool, for it to fade away, because passion is such an integral part of it; hell, passion is the very core of it, from which the stories and creativity itself emerge--the spark of passion, attraction, love that is our relationship with these characters. I'd be *horrified* if I ever started to truly lose *that.*

Actually, Dave up there once said one of the most wonderful things anyone's ever said of a fic of mine--that it "makes love with the audience." So that's at the core of my concern--how to keep that lovemaking going while still growing (and aging!) as a person, and to hopefully share a part of that journey with the readers, to be on the same train with them for a few stories' duration at least. I want to give the best I can, for the characters, for Connie, for the readers, for myself and for the world.

Because I care, dammit.

Query

Legitimate non-jokey query:

Is 3-3,5 pages long enough for a satisfactory Grousefic sex scene? This includes foreplay, with Jaffar undressing Yassamin with The Veidtgaze™ and stuff. But they kind of breezed through it and there was no major kink or even bumming, just a cosy and simple old-married-couple exchange of tenderness. I’d kind of built up to it, even at the start of the fic (where they already had a one-paragraph quickie and said they’d do a proper shag later that night), so now I worry it might feel anticlimactic. Especially because I am the queen of neverending marathon sex scenes, which I know (most?) readers expect from me. I mean, I know they aren’t there for the deep insights of medieval Islamic metaphysics in relation to cheetah-rearing in 9th century Samarkand, that’s for sure.

IDK. My libido isn’t quite what it used to be and I feel like I’m entering early menopause (and it actually feels pretty nice and like I have more energy than I used to do), so that influences the fics as well, of course. Hasn’t stopped me from being a pervert, of course, and it’s not like I’ll have the motivation to write pure gen or anything (I need those hotties to bang!) but I feel like the balance is shifting a bit there. And I know my sex scenes have been too stop-start-stop and it gets tedious even for me when I reread the stuff, so it’s more like I’m now making them more concentrated than spread out all over the place, and that I am (or rather, Jaffar is) no longer trying to shoehorn ten kinks into one night when a few will do quite nicely.

So, anyway. What are your thoughts?