#i'm quite happy with some of the writing

[bsaka7]

would you mind some director's commentary on scenes of an american artist'? maybe the rhode island scene especially? it's one of the most beautiful things i've ever read, and that part is so perfect to me, i think about it a lot. :)

I'll do the end bit of the Rhode Island scene (around the quote!). and thank you for the job app luck!! i just finished my draft of some responses...so here is an answer for you under the cut! Also I'm so glad you enjoy 😭😭

Sebastian pretended he was engrossed in his book, though he had mostly been watching Charles, thinking thoughts that he did not believe he should have in public [1959 baby!]. He believed that his feelings for Charles should be kept in a lock box, only to come out when it was just the two of them. Still, he found his mind drifting when he was at work, on his walk home. He would eat a fresh banana and remember how Charles delighted the first time he had a truly good one [I was thinking about the extinction of the Cavendish banana here lmao]. He would hear a phrase in the break room and remember how Charles said it. He could not escape, and in truth, he did not want to [Charles haunts him!].

Charles laid out on the sand next to Sebastian [Realized recently beach scenes are very common for me -- I think it's the way of being together, separate but near other people, and the awe of the ocean in front of you]. “Read to me,” he demanded, his voice soft and firm [This fic was intentionally referential between art, media, etc. so I knew it was only a matter of time til we get closer to what I'm actually trying to capture (literature!). East of Eden is one of my all-time favorite books so. It also I think helps me play with American identity as I do a bit in this fic]. Sebastian loved how Charles got with him, how the layers of shyness had slowly been carved out over the year the three of them had spent in their small house. With Hanna, Charles still had the awkwardness of a man who did not grow up around women, but he was kind to her and she to him [This fic was a balancing act to me. I try to be -- fairly respectful? of real life relationships. which led to this dual presence/silence of Hanna in the text].

Sebastian acquiesced, because how could he not? [I do like when Seb is helpless to Charles in a way he doesn't quite understand. He likes him against himself. In this case, against his marriage, as opposed to racing.] He began from where his eyes had last landed.

He did not realize how much his voice thickened with truth as he read. The words came out lilted and true, as though they had come straight from Sebastian himself. They ran off his tongue as if they had been written just for the two of them [Confession! Also, I really struggled with this transition. I still feel it's a bit clunky and wish I could have done it in a little bit more of a subtle way, but it says what I want].

“In uncertainty I am certain that underneath their topmost layers of frailty men want to be good and want to be loved. Indeed, most of their vices are attempted short cuts to love. When a man comes to die, no matter what his talents and influence of genius, if he dies unloved his life must be a failure to him and his dying a cold horror. It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try to live that our death brings no pleasure to the world.

We have only one story. All novels, all poetry, are built on the never-ending contest in ourselves of good and evil. And it occurs to me that evil must constantly respawn, while good, while virtue, is immortal. Vice has always a new fresh young face, while virtue is venerable as nothing else in the world is.” [This was actually a huge pain to decide what to put in here. At the time of writing this fic I didn't even have cell service in my house so I knew I had to pick something from a book I owned that was reasonably popular and came out before 1959. As you may imagine, I didn't have a huge number of options. I knew Steinbeck had some commentary on love so this is what I ended up pulling, which in turn shaped the next couple of paragraphs. I really like the opening "want to be good and want to be loved." For Sebastian, this is almost a confession. They never say they love each other, but of course, they do. This is the best way that I could figure to show it. I also think there was a slight play with vice/virtue charles/sebastian in terms of their relative positions to Hanna/the family unit in the house, which I also liked. I'm actually not that into literary analysis which is why this is probably a week explanation but I just wanted to add to that real interplay between medias in this piece and in how Sebastian can say something without saying it.]

Charles blinked up at him from where he lay. “So, which am I?” he asked with a cheeky smile. “Vice or virtue?” He tried to wink, and it crunched up his face so delightfully that Sebastian wished he could take a picture, tuck it in his wallet, hold it with him forever [I assume I was also thinking about the variety of Charles interpretations in fic, some of which show him as extremely...tempting? and others as like. nearly angelic. So this is also slightly in reference to that w/in fandom. Of course, he's also just teasing Seb because he knows what Seb will say].

“Virtue,” Sebastian said. He could not keep the sincerity out of his voice. He looked away, out to the deep blue expanse. There was a container ship on the horizon, a dark blob in the distance [He's in LOVEEEE. And I want to remember that even the seascape here is an industrial landscape.].

Sebastian had never said the words before and perhaps he never would, but he loved Charles, truly, and desired that love in return. But in that moment, under the sunlight, he felt as though perhaps he must, but he did not. He did not look at Charles for a long moment and Charles did not ask him to [Can't handle the truth of our own emotion etc]. That summer was the middle of things [The middle is nearly the end]. Neither of them would ever escape the memory, nor would they be able to capture it, the soles of their feet warm from the race on the beach, their faces red with sunlight [The capture it is in reference to Charles' art. Chasing a feeling. That's all we're doing with art, isn't it? I try but can't ever show you what's in my head]. Charles’ hands were cold from the sea, and he wanted nothing more to reach out and take Sebastian’s in his own, but he did not for there was a family down the way, laughing [period-typical homophobia etc. I actually did almost no research for this fic in terms of...anything. which is rare for me. Charles' cold hands for some reason is a common descriptor for me though. Huh!].

Charles held the words with him, though he said nothing himself. He wanted to tell Sebastian that he would not die unloved, but he could not find it in him [Seb in this is.......he is who he is. There was originally supposed to be a scene of him like. getting introduced to Columbia University gay culture at the time when he was like...18 but it didn't fit with the format of the fic. I think when I was writing this, I was thinking about how Seb and Hanna were good companions but not truly lovers. I maybe think about it as a different kind of love, now]. His heart bloomed as he watched Sebastian in profile, and he knew neither of them would ever be the same again [Every relationship changes you. So be it.].

[occidentaltourist]

bbc: Some sweet #Silvacre content for your FYP ❤️

[not-poignant]

Are there any fandoms you haven't written for yet but would like to in the future? Or future fanfic ideas/stories that have been on your mind that you want to do after you finish your other fanfics?

I love reading your replies 😊

There's...

There's so many, anon

You know how some people worry about running out of stories to write? Yeah, I'm out here begging my brain to shut the fuck up because I already have enough stories to write.

I don't have anything seriously on my mind. I have wanted to write for the Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji fandom, and the Bungou Stray Dogs fandom for a long time. I have another long Bull/Dorian/Cullen fic I want to write for Dragon Age but that might get superceded by the latest game coming out and new characters.

I also have quite a few original stories with completely original characters that I want to write.

And don't get me started on the amount of fandoms I want to write PWPs for because we'd be here all day. I've also written for additional fandoms and not ported my fics over from Livejournal and FF.net and other websites. So I'd say there's like another 10 fandoms I've written for where if you don't know my old usernames (no I'm not going to share them lmao), like...they're just floating out in the ether.

The ideas do not stop, and sometimes I am in bed like 'pls just...let me sleep' and they fall on me like when you open an overstuffed ADHDer's cupboard and everything falls on top of you at once sdalfkjdsa

[cerise-on-top]

heya, could you deliver someone kate head canons on how’d she’d be in a relationship! i adore your stuff by the way!!!! Thank ya

Yeah, of course I can! Glad to hear people like my silly HCs, imagines and drabbles! Thank you for the request, I hope you can enjoy it!

General Dating HCs for Laswell

First things first: There’s a chance you might not see her as often as you’d like. She has a very high position at the CIA, and thus works a lot in other countries as well. While Laswell does her best to make time for you, this isn’t always possible due to her job. However, when she does finally have time for you she doesn’t particularly want to leave your side either. Regardless of whether the two of you are relaxing while sitting on the couch and drinking tea or you’re at an amusement park, chances are Laswell will be by your side.

She’s not a fan of PDA, and that’s something you’ll have to respect. Laswell, generally speaking, isn’t that into physical contact with other people, not even you. You can ask her to cuddle every once in a while, you can ask her for a hug too, she won’t mind that too much, but too much physical contact is just suffocating to her. Laswell prefers to show her affection through other means. She has an amazing memory and remembers just about anything you say that might be useful. If you ever wanted a certain gift, Laswell has the means and the money to get it for you, even if you just made an off-handed comment once a few months ago. It will be yours eventually. And because she has a good grasp on how people react to certain things, chances are most of her gifts to you will be something you’ll like.

While she may not be a chef, she’s a pretty alright cook too. Cooking isn’t something she does very often, not that she hates it either, but she, more often than not, doesn’t have the time for it. Usually she just gets something on the go, eats out or orders takeout, but with you, if cooking is something you like, she’s more than happy to help you out. Just give her the order to cook the noodles or cut the tomatoes and she’ll do it. While she does like to make some chit chat with you at appropriate times, especially during cooking, if you prefer silence so you can focus better, then that’s okay as well. When she thinks a meal turned out especially well then she’ll have you try it by spoonfeeding you a bit.

Laswell is an older, but classy woman, she will want to go to fancy restaurants with you at some point just to drink some wine and maybe eat some fresh seafood. Naturally, you don’t have to eat some salmon and shrimp, but you don’t have to hold back either. If you want the pizza, the schnitzel or the burger, then that’s more than alright as well, but please, at the very least, consider the steak and the champagne. Considering the restaurants she picks are very expensive, it’s very likely that she’ll be paying for the food there. You can return the favor by paying next time you’re out to eat Chinese at the buffet or, if you want to, you can also just help her a bit with the chores and do a few more of them. This isn’t her trying to get out of doing them, though, she just wants to spoil you and show you the world of upper class people.

If you want to spoil Laswell as well, then I can tell you that unless your workplace pays you very well, you likely won’t be able to afford the things she likes. Whiskey or wine of several hundreds of dollars are not very cheap, so Laswell won’t mind you not getting her anything like it as well. However, she can appreciate you remembering the small things about her. You remember her liking lambs and got her a cute keychain? You made her the salmon filet she likes so much? Bought her favorite movie on DVD? Yeah, she notices and will be grateful. Those small things, however, might sometimes turn into something bigger with how she always likes to repay her “debts”. And so, an I love you has turned into a vacation in the Maldives at one point.

Will want you to be acquainted with either Nikolai, Price or both, preferably. Because she’s aware something bad can happen any time, she wants you to know them so that, in case something bad happens, you have someone to turn to. Besides, they’re her closest friends, she knows she can trust them with you. If you get along with them? Even better! That way she can invite you to the occasional drink with them and you can talk about anything and everything. And if you ever were in trouble and couldn’t reach her, then either of them would always pick up, no matter what. Your safety goes above all else, of course, but sometimes, some things can’t be prevented entirely, so it’s for the best you know them.

Overall, she’s a very caring partner, regardless of whether she’s your girlfriend, fiancée or wife, she’ll make sure you’re always happy. She’s been through enough herself to know what it’s like to be unhappy with where you are in life, so it doesn’t matter to her what she needs to do in order to see you smile again. Make sure to return the love and you’ll find yourself with one of the most loving, loyal partners out there. She’ll go to the end of the world and beyond to find you and make sure you’re okay. Make her a warm meal, give her some nice gifts and spend your time with her, the last thing is all that Laswell really wants in her life. As long as the two of you are together, she’s sure everything will be alright.

[lenievi]

Just something short I wrote for "I can’t believe you were that stupid" Saturday prompt over at 30+ fanfic discord.

Might potentially take place in the same 'verse as this and this snippet. Just weeks later and after Cosette gets married.

warning: mentioned canon Valjean's self-harm. first draft.

Jean Valjean/Javert

It's kind of (my idea of) fluffy – for the two of them.

---

Valjean rolled up his sleeves. Before he could take the sickle, Javert caught his elbow in a firm but gentle grip.

“I can’t believe you were that stupid,” Javert said, carefully tracing the burn scar on Valjean’s forearm with his fingers.

It had been a week since Javert learnt about its origin, but except for a few furtive looks at Valjean’s forearm, he hadn’t mentioned it again. Valjean would prefer if he'd forgotten. The notion of Javert caring—caring about him and his well-being—was still strange. Strange and yet… not entirely unpleasant.

Valjean shrugged. “What does one more scar matter?”

Javert dug his fingers into Valjean’s flesh and raised his head, his other hand falling. His throat worked. Valjean could see that there were things Javert wanted to say, but he seemed to swallow them and stayed silent.

Valjean sighed. “I told you they had been threatening Cosette. I couldn’t have them bother us again.”

“I know.” Javert’s grip softened; his thumb caressed—for there was no other word than that—the skin around the tender scar, sending shivers down Valjean’s spine, and as he had done for weeks, Valjean ignored the sensation.

“I knew I could handle it,” he said instead. Even after twelve years, he could still remember the searing pain caused by the stolen coin he had taken from the fireplace in his house in Montreuil and clutched hard in his palm. That one, he’d deserved; the other one, he’d done for Cosette. He’d never regret it, for she had cared for him when he’d returned home. Washed his wound, sat with him, loved him. He would treasure that memory forever now when she was married and not by his side anymore.

“It was still foolish of you,” Javert said, letting his hand fall.

An odd sense of disappointment washed over Valjean at the loss of Javert’s touch, and he quickly grabbed the sickle. The garden had been overgrown and needed a lot of work.

But he didn’t move.

When Javert had looked at him with eyes that seemed to try to penetrate his mind and read his thoughts in Montreuil, Valjean hadn’t been able to break their eye contact for fear of looking weak and guilty. Now, he didn’t want to look away and instead, it was Javert who often couldn’t maintain the contact for long.

Javert ran his fingers over the workbench and removed some of the soil that had been forgotten. “Yet, you continue to astonish me. You’ve always done things that haven't benefited or harmed you. Even—” Javert stopped himself. “No matter.”

Despite the time that had passed, it was still bizarre hearing Javert, who had never stopped to consider someone else’s reasons or circumstances in the past, who had only assumed that everything Valjean did had been to gain something, speak like that.

“I only did what I had to do. You must know what it feels like now; you let me go.”

Javert frowned. “That was different.”

“Was it?” Valjean remembered Javert’s shaking shoulders and sobs as he clutched the fireplace mantel in the drawing room on rue de l’Homme-Armé. He remembered what had come after, Javert’s despair and desperation as he clung to Valjean in a strange imitation of an embrace.

“Yes,” Javert said, and he sounded almost sure. “I didn’t let you go.”

No, he didn’t. That Javert was here in Digne with him, was proof enough. “No, you didn’t,” Valjean agreed and nodded at the wall above the workbench. “Take the other sickle and let me teach you how to use it. If you are to stay, you can be useful.”

[sysig]

Anime good :) (Patreon)

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

i'm overwhelmed by the amount of positive comments i got on my latest fic! my heart goes out to all the survivors of sexual abuse, and i'm glad my fic has helped many of you process your own trauma. <3

[tired-beholding-bitch]

In the perfect, unbroken quiet that follows the knocking, the rattling of her punctured lungs working to take a breath is almost deafening. “We see you.” She speaks low and grating, her voice buzzing with a thousand echoes, vibrating through the holes in her throat like something else is pushing air out of her. You have never felt as afraid as you do hearing that voice. If she still had an actual mouth to do it with, you’re sure she would be smiling. “So alone,” she rasps, and the thud of her palm against the door sends you lurching back in terror, and still she goes on, “You would never have to be alone, if you let us in.” Martin encounters the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss. It doesn't go welll.

[mirrortouchedsea]

HiMERU was fuming when he walked into the church. His brother was just sitting here this whole time, not even bothering to look for him or do anything useful? HiMERU needed to stay calm. His fists were clenched at his side. He walked up to Tatsumi Kazehaya and asked him if he had been keeping Kaname against his will, which was met with a negative response. Kaname had stayed of his own free will. I would never force someone to stay, Tatsumi said.

HiMERU stormed over to his brother seated in one of the pews next to Amagi’s younger brother and the other child he couldn’t be bothered to learn the name of and grabbed him by the wrist. Let’s go, there’s no reason for you to stay here. Kaname resisted, though HiMERU was stronger and continued walking out to where Rinne, Niki and Kohaku were sitting outside. 

Onii-chan I can’t leave. That priest said he wasn’t forcing you to stay so we’re going. He isn’t but--onii-chan please just listen-- 

HiMERU took one step outside the chapel, Kaname’s hand breaching the doorway, still in his grasp. It suddenly felt… 

He looked down and saw it begin to rot away. 

I can’t leave, Onii-chan. 

[dootznbootz]

I fucking hate those colds where you just have fucking fog for brains >:(

[daz4i]

i likely won't get into genshin but it's probably for the best. bc from what i know abt the lore and world etc i will become the most annoying person in the world if i did

[skollwolf]

I know I wrote Blinding back in like 2013 but even to this day my villain origin story is when people comment that they're glad Tony has a happy ending in it

[dormarunt]

There's no God, capital G or not, to save me from what I'm about to post later. Brainrot of the highest degree, so much so that I wanted to get an alt AO3 account for this. Complete fever dream.

And only Berlermo in (one of the) themes.

[cerise-on-top]

Hi! I hope you've been doing alright!

I was wondering if you could possibly write something for Valeria comforting reader having a bit if a meltdown. Something along the lines of reader being overwhelmed by their job and just the emotions that come with the end of the year, and having Valeria just hug them, maybe do something sweet like surprising them with their favorite treat, etc. because she had been noticing the way reader had been a bit off. essentially some fluffy hurt/comfort <//3

I don't know if that's a bit much, but you're welcome to say no! Anyways, I just want to let you know that your writing is incredibly awesome and I hope that the new year treats you well! You put out a lot of great content but i really hope you're not overworking yourself either, make sure to take breaks and take care of yourself and yeah, ♡

-☆

Anon, unless you tell me to either write the most gruesome thing imaginable or straight up something that is not meant for minors, then I have no problem with any request! I tried to make it good, but I've always struggled with writing dialogue, and for that I am genuinely sorry! I hope it's still enjoyable enough, though! It's more of a fic again than anything else, at a good 3.000 words! I'm wishing you a good 2024 and that the new year may treat you more kindly than the current one has! Best of everything to you, anon! And best of everything to everyone else too, of course!

Valeria Comforting Reader

You had always been a strong person in Valeria’s eyes. You had to be in order to be with someone like her, after all. Caring for someone so vile in many people’s eyes, knowing fully well of her business, it was in spite of all of that you stayed with her. The way she could come home to you, giving it your all at work, giving her that kind smile of yours she was certain she didn’t quite deserve, it made even someone of her caliber a bit softer than usual. For as little as she cared about anyone else, wishing to have most people’s head on a stake at this point, if you gave her the command, she’d burn down every inch of this sorry planet just to see you smile again, just to watch the flames of life dance in your eyes. And from the ashes she’d raise something new, something better than what was right now. Valeria knew she could count on you, no matter what, but she hoped you did the same for her too.

Your eyes used to be full of vivacity, so lively whenever you got to see her, there was you trilling a song like a nightingale when you made her a cherry pie, from time to time she had to shut you up considering you never stopped talking whenever she came home. Bloody Valeria, who knows how many people she has killed? How many people would continue to suffer because of her selfishness? She had been called many things, a witch, a wench, a worthless wanton. But in those beautiful eyes of yours? The way you’d call her over, using sickeningly sweet nicknames in Spanish you picked up from somewhere. “Mi alma, mi tesoro, how is the most beautiful wife in this universe doing?” Granted, Valeria cringed when you suddenly started speaking Spanish to her of all people, but even so, she had to admit, you were so adorable, leaving her no choice but to respond in nothing but Spanish for the evening to compensate.

But even among the lovely banter the two of you often found yourselves in, it wasn’t enough to keep the light in your eyes from extinguishing. Your beautiful voice became rarer and rarer until you only spoke when spoken to. Whereas Valeria would once need to tell you to stop hugging her in public, these days she was happy if you as much as grabbed her hand while you were both seated on the couch. What happened to you? She wanted to know, she needed to know, but you wouldn’t budge. Whatever weighed on you took its toll on you, it wasn’t something Valeria could just fix with money, it seemed. A forced smile, empty eyes. Ever since you started that new job of yours a while ago, it seemed to never end for you.

Even as she sent one of her trusted people out to check on you, you were wary, knowing fully well about the dangers Las Almas posed to anyone living there, especially Valeria. You did not hesitate to tell her about that odd person coming to your workplace, that man could have been anyone, could have killed her. She was grateful, to have you be this open with her on a matter that concerned her, but in the same breath she cursed you for not taking better care of yourself. If she could, she would have come to your workplace to kill your boss, your superior, anyone giving you a hard time yourself. But alas, Los Vaqueros were on her heels again. And thus, she fled for another few weeks, leaving you alone in your unbearable misery. By no means was Valeria a traditionally affectionate person, but if she had to be more “normal” in that regard to see your happiness again, she could try.

The new year seemed nice around this year, with the first of January being on a Monday. The beginning of the year was also the beginning of a new week. Valeria could have stalled for time, waiting until it was midnight, but she decided to come home to you without intervention this time. That she decided until she found a small bakery, run by an elderly lady and her husband, that she had known for a while. Evening of the 30th, the shop was just about to close up when Valeria drove by, stopping right in front of it. The couple didn’t seem to mind her being here this late, giving her the usual wishes for a new year. May she be healthy, may she be happy. Lovely, if only such a thing would hold true for you instead. The wares seemed promising, obviously homemade. The bright, white cake with the strawberries on top seemed to catch her eyes. There weren’t many baked goods left, namely some cakes, some cookies and some rolls, but that tres leches looked delicious.

It didn’t take long for her to have bought the little treat. Enough for you, enough for her. Maybe such could cheer you up, if just a little bit.

The night was cold this time, with the clouds not covering a single bit of the sky. The moon was waning once again, leaving behind the world for its own purposes, leaving it in the dark where anyone and anything could be hiding. For all Valeria knew, someone could decide to try and pick a fight with her right now. Someone would die, but it wouldn’t be her. Never her, she had someone to come home to, after all. Whatever slug decided to rob her on a night like this, they would come to regret their mother’s birth. However, as she got closer to your little abode, she couldn’t help but worry. What if it wasn’t her to get hurt, but you instead? By no means would that be likely, hidden away like the treasure you were, for her eyes only, but it wasn’t impossible. Valeria pressed harder on the gas pedal.

Only when she saw the lights on this late did she finally calm down a bit. You were home, everything seemed in order. With the cake in one hand and her keys in the other, she unlocked the door, pushing it open. She had every reason to be mad at the incompetence she had to work with on the daily, but somehow, she had even more reason to be worried about you. Her worries were only reinforced when she heard quiet sobs coming from the living room. Normally, she’d burst right in, her revolver in hand. But this time? No weapon in the world could fight your demons, she could only watch as you tried your hardest to fight another day, to make it through alive and somewhat well.

Slowly, she opened the door this time as well, making just enough noise for you to take notice of her. Like a deer in headlights, you stared at her, choking back another sob. Clearly, you didn’t expect her to be home this early at all, but it didn’t matter. You seemed scared, ashamed even, as your mouth hung open, trying to find the right words to say. Regardless of what it was that would leave your mouth, Valeria wouldn’t get mad, not this time. Having put down the tres leches, she turned to you, approaching you slowly so as to not startle you. Your eyes were red and puffy, your voice hoarse as you finally spoke. You wiped away your tears, giving her a forced smile, like you had been for a while.

“Valeria, welcome back! How are you doing?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, trying your hardest to not make it as obvious that you had been crying. A futile attempt, but an attempt nevertheless. If she could have, Valeria would have wrung out your little heart, ridding you of your demons if just for this weekend, but alas. Sitting down next to you on the couch, she took one hand of yours in hers, the other arm slung around your shoulders.

“Cariño, what’s the matter? I’m not mad, I promise, I just wanna know.”

Your mouth formed an o, clearly trying to think of a bullshit excuse she wasn’t going to buy anyway. “Be honest with me!” Valeria’s voice was calm, even if she could feel the anger bubbling up inside of her. Whatever was eating at you, gnawing at your mind and your heart, you were going to tell her, preferably tonight.

Holding onto her hand, you squeezed it, looking away for a moment. She had her nails done that pretty pink again, the color you always liked so much on her. But even so, it was apparent you didn’t know what to say. Rather sooner than later, you had to come clean to her eventually. You had joked about it, but one of these days Valeria might just interrogate you for your mental wellbeing, counterproductive as that might be. Tears welled up in your eyes again as you bit your lips, hoping to seem just a tad bit less pathetic than before. Valeria was so strong, you had always been a joke in comparison.

“You know, you’re actually really tough, Valeria. You’re always on the move, always evading the bad guys, always doing what needs to be done in order for the both of us to have a good life. But look at me: I can’t even work properly without my co-workers trampling all over me. Every day I have to endure things that no one wants to put up with, every day I can’t say no to them even if I tried. Sometimes I do wish I was more like you, really. It’s just… I haven’t accomplished anything. Nothing I do seems to matter. This year was awful, and I have little hope that the next one will be any better. As much as I love you, Valeria, and you know that I adore you, I hope you’ll find someone better next year. Someone who’s worthy of having you around, someone who won’t bitch and cry over every single little thing. I’m a weak and pathetic little loser who’s nothing like you. Can’t say no, and it’s slowly killing me. I want to just run away forever, never to be seen again, and become a cryptid of sorts. I fucking hate myself, I hate this miserable, shitty planet I was born on, and I hope next year is going to be my last! I don’t think I can make it through another one.”

For a second, even Valeria was quiet, not thinking it was going to be this bad. She knew you were unhappy, but she didn’t think you were hoping to die this soon. You and her had your entire lives ahead of you, preferably together. There was no way Valeria could let something like this just slide. This was something big and important, not something you should just sweep under the rug and never talk about.

Valeria removed her arm and hand from yours, only to grab your face, cradling it somewhat roughly, to make sure you would look at her. Despite never having been an emotional person, this was important. You were going to look at her, no matter how much you protested, wanting to look away, and you were going to listen too.

“Don’t you dare say something like this ever again, you hear me? You’re going to live alongside me, and you’re going to live well. If I have to kill all of your co-workers myself, I will. You’re the last person that should die on this rotten planet. I had to live this long without you in it, you’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it. But don’t you fucking dare ever think about dying again, alright? If your boss is a bastard, who gives a shit. Same for your co-workers. You need a job? A good one you’ll enjoy with nice people? Cariño, I can get you in just about anywhere. You wanna work at a bakery? At an elementary school? You wanna work an office job? Hell, if you want I’ll make sure you’ll get to do home office whenever you need it too, but you’re not going to leave me alone just like that. The next year is going to be good to you, and it won’t be a matter of if. It’ll be a matter of when, and at my command, a good year for you will start on Monday, and that’s final.”

Her voice was almost loud, she was clearly mad. Not at you, you could never do any wrong in her eyes, but at the people who made you feel this way about yourself, about everything regarding you. It scared you, you wanted to pull away, but her grasp on you grew stronger. She meant well, you knew that much, but never did you think you could make her this mad. You were gentle, you were kind, and that also showed in how Valeria would treat you. You weren’t some kind of replaceable lackey, Valeria would never find someone like you again.

Your eyes were wide in fear and Valeria’s expression softened up a bit. “Look, I’m sorry for scaring you like that. But I need you to understand that you’re scaring me too when you say things like that. We’ll get through this together. You quit your job, we’re gonna find you a new one with good people that you can enjoy. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you next year, that I’m going to make sure myself. I’ll try to take off more days, try to get more time for you so we can be together. But please don’t do anything too rash, please don’t do anything dumb. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I lost you. Alright?”

Once again, you teared up, but this time you couldn’t look away either, Valeria was still holding you.

“Alright?”

“Alright, fine. Valeria, I’m so sorry.” Your voice was quiet, broken by your current circumstances. When was the last time someone cared about you like this? Valeria was the most dangerous woman in the country, and yet here she was, comforting a little no one like you who happened to meet her by happenstance. You didn’t bite back your sobs this time, letting it all out instead. It’s not like it was the first time she had ever seen you cry, but you wished it would be the last time. This was humiliating, even if your wife had found you in much worse situations. You closed your eyes, letting your tears fall freely.

“Please don’t apologize.” She placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before giving you a long and tight hug. A token example of how she cared for you. Despite not being one for physical affection, even she couldn’t deny you a hug when you were downright miserable. Although she wasn’t usually very warm, something about tonight, maybe it was the feeling of being disposable, made you feel warmer than usual. Valeria was by no means a kind woman normally, but somehow, you got to see this side of her that was unknown to everyone else. You knew she was the one for you.

Maybe leaving her alone would have been such a cruel thing of you after all. The way she held you when she was drunk, the way she’d kiss you when she finally got home after months of not seeing you, the way she’d look at you when she thinks you aren’t looking, it was all reminiscent of a fantasy you dreamed about when you were younger. Maybe you really didn’t need a hero, the villainess worked just fine for you. She held you like you were the most worthwhile treasure in the world. A hero would never do that, a hero would likely die to attain some silly goal. Valeria was different from that, she would litter the world with the corpses of those who wronged you. It was a challenging sort of love, but it was love nevertheless. You wanted to show her the same kind of love. Maybe you weren’t ready to kill someone for her just yet, but if it ever came down to it, maybe you could try to live again. Perhaps not for yourself as you were right now, but for Valeria. She was worth more than a planet made of pure diamonds.

Eventually, your sobs turned to sniffles, your sniffles died down. Valeria never stopped holding you until you had finally calmed down. It felt surprisingly good, letting it all out for once, not having to worry about being judged. Not many words were exchanged that evening, but they were sincere. Valeria loved you, you loved Valeria, it was that simple. You were going to remind yourself of that fact for the rest of eternity if you had to. Until you never had to actively think about that again, until it was that ingrained into your mind.

“Do you want some tres leches? I got some just for you on the way back home.”

You still held onto her shoulders, giving her the first proper smile of the evening. “You spend too much money on me, and you know it.” You playfully and lightly hit her chest, giving her a bashful look. “But, you know, I wouldn’t say no to it either.”

“There’s that beautiful smile, mi bello amor.” Once again, she cradled your face, this time much more gently than before. Once again, she gave you a quick kiss to your cheek before getting up to get the cake. Naturally, you followed suit, allowing her to take the lead as she always had. “Do you want the big piece or the small one?”

“I want you to have the big piece for being the best wife out there!”

“Wrong answer, you get the big one.” And with that, two plates and two forks had been prepared, each filled with some delicious, beautiful cake.

[umbracirrus]

So... I was tagged by both @throughtrialbyfire and @oblivions-dawn to find words in my writing... that's five each, so there's 10 I have to find!! And I think that anyone who I would likely tag back has already done this/been tagged in this so wouldn't know who to tag back...

I have to find excerpts containing Blood, Frost, Dread, Known, Awkward, Woods, Silence, Cloud, Steal, and Blade... Quite the list!!! It's going to come from a mixture of what I have posted and some WIPs which I have dotted about........ Where possible I have used excepts from The Perfect Storm (both stuff that is and isn't posted!), but have delved into other WIPs too.

1. Blood

The Perfect Storm, Chapter 6

His grasp of her wrists tightened as the blade against her neck moved slightly, forcing her into lifting her head and making eye contact with him. "I am certain that this fuss you have been making will have been all for nothing once we return to Windhelm."

Fuss? Whiterun was under attack, people were dying, houses burning, her housecarl murdered, and he thought she was fussing?!

"I will never go with you, y-you hear me?!" The blade moved higher, and she let out a hiss as she felt a sting and a small, warm rivulet of blood slip down her throat. And then... She began to laugh. Her poison may have failed, but she had one last trick up her sleeve.

2. Frost

Excerpt from the still untitled fic based around Elyse's parents, WIP.

Edwyn almost felt sick as he heard that. He had never cast any magic on Ingja, with the exception of when they had just met and her leg was injured! He was a conjuration mage, he had never touched the illusion schools of magic once in his life. But even more frightening was the threat of The Chill.

Everyone who had been in Winterhold for more than a week knew of The Chill. It was what was used instead of a conventional jail... And was far out into the Sea of Ghosts. Surrounded by naturally occurring frost atronachs, horkers, wolves... Practically a death sentence if you weren’t prepared enough to handle it. Which you wouldn’t be, because prisoners were locked up in cages, left to the whims of nature until their sentence was completed, until they escaped, or until they perished.

And Ingja’s father wanted to put him in it.

3. Dread

WIP based around my Vigilant of Stendarr-turned-Vampire Dragonborn, Iduna

A small sigh escaped her lips as she placed the amulet down on the table in front of her, and reached out for her bottle of mead. There was a slight fruitiness to its scent, one which reminded her of days long gone from her youth when she would sit with her family around a fire with mugs of berry juice, fresh from the pot above the flames and infused with spices which could only make her feel warm and safe.

Juniper berries – she was certain.

“That looks as though it has seen better days. Stendarr, right?” A voice from behind her just as she brought the bottle to her lips made her flinch, with it being the first time that anyone had actually dared say anything to her beyond pleasantries. It began to stir a deep feeling of dread within her. There was a man stood there, a look of curiosity plastered across his face as he glanced towards the amulet. “You a Vigilant or something?”

Suddenly, her throat felt dry, forcing her to quickly bring her drink to her lips before she could think of how to respond. The answer was simple, something which could be answered with a lone word, but it was one that was just not coming to her mind. “Of… a sort, you could say.”

4. Known

The Perfect Storm, Chapter 9

“It isn’t anything to do with Ulfric, if that’s what you are going to ask,” she quickly stated, though not answering the question which actually had been on the tip of the housecarl’s tongue.

“Who was it from then?”

A tired sigh escaped the Dragonborn as she shrugged and started to finally unbuckle her gauntlets and pull off her boots. “That was a letter from somebody who wanted to ‘check up on me’ because they ‘haven’t heard from me in a while’. He doesn’t actually care for me, he is contacting me out of principle,” she explained, before letting out an almost amused snort as she moved her attention towards ridding herself of her breastplate. “He doesn’t even know that I am the Dragonborn, or at the very least I haven’t told him nor care to tell him. He may have figured it out through the grapevine, but if he has, he certainly hasn’t made it known to me.”

5. Awkward

WIP for events which happen very far down the line in The Perfect Storm hehe. Had to keep this one short to prevent spoilers :)

“Balgruuf.”

“Ulfric.”

The two Jarls remained stood in the doorway, tension building between them and resulting in any guests near to the door trying to subtly move away from them. It took Galmar clearing his throat and giving Ulfric a nudge for anything further beyond the awkward stare-down to happen.

6. Woods

More of the WIP based around Iduna!

Panic began to set in when, in the distance, plumes of orange-tinted smoke began to emerge from the woods around the base of the mountains. Her body grew tense, muscles stiffening as a scalding hot bead of sweat slipped down from her forehead to her jaw to her neck.

She wasn’t even there, but she could already feel the flames licking at her skin, the combustion of wood and stone under the intense heat, the dragon’s roars-

Just like Helgen.

“Iduna! Snap out of it already!” The voice, as ever, drew the vampire from her state of panic as she gave off a pathetic little whimper, and her gaze fell towards the dog by her feet.

7. Silence

The Perfect Storm, Chapter 11

“Balgruuf, look at me.” Elyse reached out and took the circlet out of his hands, and placed it back down on the table. “They do not hate you. Trust me on that.”

They remained in a heavy silence after that, with her trying to think of anything else which she could say to reassure him, and him trying to contemplate whether he believed her. Soon enough, a thought came to mind, and she just knew that it could help with changing his perspective.

8. Cloud

WIP based around two of my Heroes of Kvatch, Drissa and Florian.

"How about we just go to Cloud Ruler Temple, as per Jauffre's suggestion, then figure out what we do from there? We can't help the fact that-! Ow!"

Drissa's teeth were bared towards Florian as she stomped on his foot angrily. "If we had actually done as I had suggested, and only handed over the amulet after we had brought Martin here, then we wouldn't even be in this situation!" She then grabbed hold of her sword, and turned her back to the three men. "I'm done with this. All of it. I've helped fulfil the Emperor's final wish, and I'm not getting involved in any more of this- this bullshit! If you want to get your hands dirtier, then fine. Better you than me."

"Wh-What? But what about our-" Florian, ignoring the ache in his foot, began to try to pursue the Dunmer as she walked away from the priory. He was stopped by Martin holding out his hand, and shaking his head. "Driss…"

9. Steal

More of Drissa and Florian!

It was an injustice that she had been arrested, and given that she had been marched right past the Black Horse Courier offices on the way there, it would be the news of the province that she had been arrested by week’s end. No matter what, her reputation would be ruined. At best, she would be having her titles stripped from her in the Arena. At worst... well, she didn’t dare consider it.

 What she was not expecting once she was brought to a halt was to see another group of guards with another person in a similar predicament to herself.

“-gems did not end up in my hands intentionally, you know. I didn't steal them, I found them. It’s not my fault that his tailor did a shoddy job at stitching up his pockets!”

Or perhaps not.

“Stolen goods are still stolen, no matter how they are obtained,” the guard at the desk stated, just as he caught sight of her. “And here comes more trouble.”

10. Blade

The Perfect Storm, Chapter 11

Her heart was racing, and a thin sheen of sweat was covering her face as she remained stood as she was, her left arm falling to her side with its blade still in hand, her right remaining held forward with its blade lodged in place. A few loose strands of hair that had barely been able to remain tied up behind had fallen loose at some point, frustratingly sticking to the side of her face. The only noise around her, beyond the faintest of breezes, was that of her heavy breathing.

[tharkilm]

i adore your boys so much, they're just do charming and i can't deny getting all blushy cuz of your writing which i have been binge reading! just wanted to drip an ask about how would grim and lilac react with handmade gifts made specifically for them? (like say paper or crocheted flowers for grim or small patches for lilac for his scarf or jacket?)

Grim: Crocheted flowers… It’s a rare moment where you’ll see Grim’s face turning strangely serious, though in every positive sense of the word. He breathes silently for a moment, a conscious effort that has seemingly become unconscious due to the amount of time he spends with you, and his sockets seem to turn aglow with light as small ripples of blue magic form at the bottom of them; slowly trailing down his cheeks as they build up more and more.

“What beautiful flowers…” he says, voice deep with emotion as he carefully trails a single phalange over the crocheted petals. He’s overcome by what you’ve done for him, and although you might not understand the full meaning of such a wonderful gift, Grim will ensure that you’ll see how much he appreciates and cherishes them. Truly, they become his greatest treasures, coming up right behind you, of course.

Lilac: His hand will thoughtlessly rub against a hole in his jacket as he looks at the patches you’ve given him. While he may not use them on the scarf, as he’s unwilling to alter it in any way, he’ll really want you to sew the other ones onto his jacket. Seeing you work the seams is fascinating, and the way you handle the project is endearing and sweet. You really don’t have to handle his jacket with such care, but… it warms his soul to see you do it, nonetheless.

The patches become more than what they really are. True, they’ve extended the life of his jacket by preventing the holes from tearing any further, but your intent is now sewn in along with the patches, and so a part of you is forever going on with him. Beneath his hood, he is smiling softly to himself as he trails a hand over a certain patch; one not quite matching the colour of his jacket, but thus it becomes even more wonderful.