#lucretia when i catch you-

[papyskellington]

I've been gnomed once again...

BUT AT WHAT COST

I'm gonna go cry in a hole now actually I CAN'T COPE RN HE LOOKS SO PERFECT WE FINALLY HAVE OUR CAPTAIN BACK

[sofancydancy]

𝓜𝓪𝔂 𝓲𝓽 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓜𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪.

& he's done!!

[deesseshesca]

PAC : Letter from your pregnant self (HIS POV) 18+

I got beef with men but ... what else is new ?

PERSONAL READING (SALE) (LINK)

FIRE TO THE MOON

FUTURE LOVE + SEX DOUALA = 40$ (2for1)

DOWN TO MY CORE

CHARACTER UPDAPTE + LORE DUMP = 40$ (2for1)

PILE 1

MY BEEF...any way thank you so much for coming through. Girl you better like it, he got me working fucking overtime. Actually all of them did ...

(LINK TO YOUR READING ... YES IT IS FREE AND ON TUMBLR ... MERRY CHRISMAS)

PILE 2 

Both of y’all are only child that were raised to be anxious over achiever. Parents are never there. I keep hearing : ‘’Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends. Super rich with nothing but fake friends…’’

Letter suppose to be for you but instead he wrote it for your baby.

Dear Lucetta (Various ethereal ‘’L’’ name came through. Other name that came through : Lysandra, Lysianne and Lucretia) 

Daddy messed up (This man is bawling. I mean breakdown and everything. He tries to be strong but for the sec that he admits that, tears are overflowing. If he was actually writing the letter they would be teardrop on the letter). Daddy is nothing but an asshole. I should not write this right … Your mama is going to get mad when she realizes how I butcher your vocabulary (yellow laugh ( french : rire jaune) … idk how to explain it in english). Fuck … You deserve a fucking good letter. That’s the least I can fucking do … yeah that’s the least I can do. Mama decorate your room like the royalty you are meant to be. The tapestry tailored in Spain in an accent of gold and soft pink are all over the walls. Made sure to ask the maid to polish the wooden floor until she can see herself in it. She actually sent me in here to check the oxygen cleanliness of your room. First wtf is air cleanliness. Second when the fuck did they created a damm machine for that shit. Lastly, you are not even there … Sorry baby … I love you more than anything but your mama is gone mad with the way she’s preparing for you. I never understood when  my poor friends complain about rich people's spending habits.  Now I am standing in the room section reserved for your room oxygen. I can help but run a hand in my hair and agree. (Another yellow laugh (rire jaune) before falling down on his knees and crying. Give him a couple minute y’all he needs to catch his breath … ) You're going to cost me so much baby. I never care for my trust fund, finances or even money but I am asking the family accountant to come to me first thing in the morning for the 4th this month. I hope I have enough money ( and for some of y’all … gold … liquid gold …iykyk). I know Mr. (His dad's name) has enough money in the bank but maybe is not enough. Maybe you need more than the couple millions we have. Maybe you need more than the properties we own. Maybe you need fucking more than an oxygen regulator machine. Maybe you need a whole lung doctor. Yes… you  need a nutritionist, a child psychologist … Does the baby have a tutor ? Fuck you need it. Baby just said and daddy will get it. You understand everything you want daddy get. You want a hug, a kiss, for me to count all the stars in the sky to describe how much he loves … done. You need me to buy the moon for you … done. You need me to resurrect  Leonardo Devinci so he can paint you in all your glory … done. There’s nothing I would not give to you but the thing that makes my heart ache is the way I crave intimacy with you. Can’t wait to hold you in my hands. Can’t wait to touch your littles toes. Can’t wait to see your lips pout like your mama when she is done with my mess. Can’t wait to see you grow. I promise princess I will never make second ever again. I will go to every parent meeting at school, bringing you to all your ballet, opera, harp, fencing, horse ridding whatever fucking classes your mom has for you; I will never miss your school competition and I will listen to all your house show you will produce to show yourself off. I don’t care if I am in a meeting, I will always have time for you. I will always have time to remind you how much I love you, how pretty you are, how much you matter and how much of a blessing you are just because you are. Yes… just because is you,  baby. Forgive daddy please. I know I am not in a position to ask you for anything especially after giving up on you for so long but if you don’t make it out of the NICU … mommy may never make it out. We both made her suffer enough. 

Please baby (damm he's whimpering in pain, choking on tears) stay with us. 

YOUR DADDY. 

Don’t worry you are not dead or close to it ( in the physical form at least …), you are being monitored at the hospital. I am getting traumatic labor (I should do a PAC about it) not because of pain but because of blood. You may have not lost your water but blood. I see you laughing at some joke the father of your baby did. Not a single care in the world. Girl your hair is perfect, if you have a Dyson and are working to perfect your blowout … just so you know you are the blowout queen in a couple years. Skin glowing, you look so pretty pregnant. That baby was really the blessing that changed your life forever. You are wearing a 2 piece white set … boom blood. You touch and look at your man. I keep hearing : ‘’ nononono … that can’t be it. (HIS NAME !) It can’t be … my baby. 

This whole letter  has nothing to do with the cards so let’s dive … shall we ? (Intuition took over …)

First you guys were both extremely hardworking workers. Never had time ( and also if I may … never learn ) to create deep bonds. I see both people living in their own penthouse. Yours has more of a Victorian look and his is more modern. You may have a white cat. 

You met at the work gala. I see 2 people look at each and accept y’all fate. 

You start fucking. The deal was perfect. He needed a woman that was not going to get attached to his riches. You needed a man that’s not trying to fix your cold heart. 

I see y’all literally planning to have sex like it’s a meeting … I think y’all use it to blow some steam annoyed by your empty life, useless parents and annoying coworkers. 

At first just fucking, no aftercare, clothe back on and on the go. Then he cracks a joke and you giggle which makes you stay 5 minutes longer. Then he charms you while cooking dinner for you before you leave. Then you spend more and more time together… Now he grabs you a snack and y’all always watch a kid show. He complains about how dumb the character is but you enjoy the deep dive he’s doing without even realizing it. 

You are not wrong, there's a lot of things he doesn't realize. He doesn't realize how much he craves connection. He doesn't realize how much he craves intimacy with you. When asked why ? Is it because you allow him to be ( do you realize the synchrony with the letter … anyway sometime my psychic surprise me 2 girl) 

You took the pregnancy test together and he joke on the fact it was getting terminated and not to stress so much but a light a hope awaken in your  heart for the first in soooo fucking long but you brush it off and went on the same page as him. Not because of him but because ‘’ you the fuck has time for a kid anyway’’ (your word not mine). 

Then you heard the baby's heartbeat and you cut all contact with him. Someday at the beginning of your second trimester you text him paragraphs upon paragraph on how you kept the baby, how it was never to hurt him, but for the first time in your life you felt hope and it felt like you needed to hold on to it. That you don’t know how but you are going to make it. 

He will villainize you and block you. One of your close friend is going to send them drunk voice memo in the middle of the third semester announcing him is a girl between cursing the fuck out. WAKE UP CALL FOR MISTER. 

He comes back the same day you threw your private luxurious baby shower. 

Some of y’all are Italian 

He has a no relationship with his parents and refuses 2. Calling them by their first name while you still seek love from them. 

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

3) For ALL DECEMBER get 2 readings for the price of 1 : LINK

PILE 3

Dear Red (y’all call each other by colors so anything can fit, just took that one because it came through first) , 

You are resplendent. I know you think I am exaggerating. Or maybe you think I am only talking this sweet because everything is new ( I just heard : ‘’ The talk is cheap …’’ Lol this one is sassy) but baby I can put my hand the fire that I would still go that hard for you in 30 years when you boobs going to sag, your face will wrinkles from all the time I am going to make you laugh and you have grey hair just like mine ( You : YAH! Stop that in 30 years we are not going to be this old … you dumb fuck. I swear too God this fucking skincare better work. You better stop being goofy .. I want to be a MILF. You know, that is one of my life goals … GIRL YOU BETTER TELL HIM; Me: (choking on my laugh) Now… Why am I getting yelled at ?). Can’t never forget when I saw your sexy ass that day at the beach. I did not think … yeah I can’t wait to fuck it and make her yell my name (ok can’t lie it was my very next thought) nahhh, baby I was hook by the way the sun was making your skin glow. The tattoo on your body is a telling story before my eyes but you know I never wear my damm glasses so I could not read it. Anyway the way your hair flows gracefully with the wind, the way your eyes light up basking in the sun. I knew I had to get a lil mama number. When I first hear your voice … it made me breathless (should have asked for your asthma pump but I did not know you like that at that time but that shows you how much I was starstruck … Almost I had my first asthma attack- You: BABY stop telling my damm business to this lady). Your words, your tone, the way you move with so much elegance … I just knew I hit the jackpot. I would be damm to let you go. I am so proud of having you as mine. I love spending time with you, I love spending money on you, I love kissing you, I love leaving hickeys on you, I love holding your hands, I love texting you, I love making stupid edits of us (Me : the 2014 couple edit … girl … I can’t … you boy is making me cry of laughter). I know everything happens so quickly but you know how you explain me that life is like a book with crystals and your cards with little drawing on it, ( Me : Byeeee I can't, he is trying to explain crystals and tarot cards; Him: Honestly I don’t know about all that … I love hearing her talk about it. I love hearing her talk when she’s excited. I love her voice. The perfect candidate for yap session) anyway my inner child feels so safe and alive with you. I know you feel the same baby girl. Everything is working so effortlessly that must mean we are manifesting something good ( Me : LOL ! He’s talking about the law of attraction). My mom did not even get mad when I announced to her that I got you pregnant (You : Duh she loves me stoopid). You parents loved the fact that we found each other and your dad is as eager as me to formalize our union. Honestly I would marry you anywhere at any time. I told  you from the beginning that you will be my wife and I meant it but I know you want something bigger and so  it’s going to have to wait. That doesn't mean I can’t surprise you with an engagement ring. Standing here with a small group of men allowed to the baby shower, I can’t help but look at you. Your skin tight black dress exposing your full breast and the slide on it showing off your thick thighs. The smile on your face while you act ratchet with your friends ( Him: Damm babe I did not know you could still throw it in a circle 8 months pregnant … you better not say you are tired tonight. I got a plan for both of us) letting yourself go not a single care in the world. This is how I want you to be forever. Not a single care in the world, always full of joy and love and helping you achieve all your goals. Baby I know, it was quick but I swear it is only the beginning of the most beautiful love story. I am going to work hard until my last breath to keep the spark going. 

YOUR ONE AND ONLY MAN 

HIM 

Again wtf is wrong with those men. At first they did not want to work with me … now they are good ? To the point of making me over work …smh.

Yes, you guess it … it was an intuitive letter now let’s get into the card. 

First I am getting PLUS SIZE ! Yes, very thick and curvy women.  Now I understand why I wanted to write a bigger butt earlier … your man loves the curves baby. That’s does not mean is a fucking fetiche. Like if it is affecting health is going to ask you to fix it. News flash loser fat people can have an active life and still be fat. He never forces you to achieve any kind of weird kink. 

Y’all may be giving yourself too easily to men. I am getting that since they only see you for your body. You prefer existing than being invisible (like when you were child, some of y'all have been big since childhood. You were not really bullied but very ignored. People were ashamed to associate with you). Right now I see you are at the beginning of your elf love journey. You are making healthy food choices, spending time mastering a hobby : crystal, tarot, knitting or some other heels dancing. YOU GO GIRL ! Regarding men you still give yourself easily, some even tell you they don’t like you. They just fuck you because you are easy. You accept it and let them take you to pound town anyway. 

This man is going to help you tremendously in your self love journey … you have no fucking idea. You are going to glow more, stop eating your feelings, love yourself, have boundaries with your environment ( idk when the world decides that we have to give less respect to rounder people but anyways …), you will dress more provocatively and wear way more colors. Speak your mind more and be confident in yourself. 

Baby say goodbye to boring sex and say hello to sex toys. Rejoice, babe rejoice you deserve it. Let me tell you something he is pleasure dom … Girl he's going to make you orgasm like it is a damm sport. You better hold on because the night is going to be long. Pussy swollen from overstimulation, ass hurting from spanking and hickeys everywhere. Not him having the audacity to ask you to ride him after all that … anyways chile let me go. 

He gets so hard whenever you talk about spirituality. If you are witch prank by performing some sex magick on him, this man would be sooo proud to be your little helper while you are doing some spell.

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

3) For ALL DECEMBER get 2 readings for the price of 1 : LINK

PILE 4 

Judgement (reverse), King pentacles, 4 wands (reverse), page of cups (reverse) 

I put the card because I want to show that I actually try to do the reading at first but the energy aint it. Somebody had an awful pregnancy especially because of an awful baby daddy. Like he dragged you to the filth, made you cry and cheated on you. Even gave you an STD for some of y’all. Since than he calm the fuck down. He tries to come through like a nicer person  but he made sure to make me understand he doesn't love you so I don't want him. I ain't wasting my time for something he can text. Then his younger self came through … boy bye with your filthy energy. 

So I kept trying because I had to feed you guys … Then your future husband came through but you were still not pregnant so … it was kind of useless for me … But then I understood that y’all are actively trying and that's good enough for me. 

No cards … straight intuition ( I don’t  want this filthy energy to come through again) 

Dear Малышка, Солнышко, Киса (ain't going to lie … I google the most popular and line it up. He ain't going to call you all that. Also I am really getting eastern Europe and I know they all have their own language but most of them somehow got colonized by Russia in some way shape or form. But if he’s from Poland then he will use his language. He’s from Lithuania, he will use his language … You catch the drift) 

(before we get into anything … thick, thick accent), fuck I want you. I need you. Like all the time. You ain’t make it easy for me Малышка. One day you welcome me home with a long white robe, hair in a perfect intricate bun and makeup a bit oily. That's how I know our kid did not let you rest. You only had  time to take away your clothes before you had to jump in mommy mode. Other times you tease me by sending me pictures of the lingerie and perfume you are wearing. Swear I hate the fact that I start work so early and finish so late. Oh let me not forget when you took a picture with my computer of you in your favorite brown set. The number of times you give me a blue ball should be illegal. Don’t even get me started when we were invited to the gala, you look so breathtaking … anyways you already know all that. Being a man's desire never was a foreign concept but being in love was one I had to teach you. Every day I rejoice with the idea of spending a whole lifetime loving you and our little bundle of energy. She/He never stops … just like her/his mommy. It took me a while to win over her/his heart. She/He is so protective of your heart. Almost as if he/she everyone in your heart aches when carrying him/her. That’s ok now we are 2 trying to protect you, can’t wait to be 3 humans to love on you. Until then here is the money for the new makeup you wanted to try. 

Love you Малышка. 

LOL ! I swear your future man has some sense of humor. I said the other one he could text you is lame nice word this one came through as a text. 

Also some of you may think he is super old … nah he is around your age. Babe get out the damn book there’s handsome Slavic men your age range in the real world. 

Anyways this man has tattoos and loves metal and goth music. He has moneyyy. I just don’t know the capacity but enough to put you in a luxurious condo and fund your influencer career. 

Lol … I see some of y’all cringing. I don’t think you will do couple content, actually you keep your life extremely private … The only thing people know is the diamond on your finger. I am getting more skincare and makeup content creators. You have a boudoir (beauty room/content room) that’s all we see. When I channeled him, I saw you receiving his message while getting ready to film some content. At that time in your life you are still juggling a 9to5. I mean girl, you are doing it all ! Mommy, corporate baddie, content creator and trophy wife. 

He has a rather dark aesthetic unlike you. You have a quite cute, pink aesthetic but love hardcore metal and goth. 

He came through while I played my NIRVANA playlist.

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

3) For ALL DECEMBER get 2 readings for the price of 1 : LINK

[jerreeeeeee]

Balance fic recs

some of my favorite balance fics. various ages, popularities, and lengths. i’ve been wanting to do a rec list for a while!

caramel by nevereverever

The first time Taako is left alone, it isn't pretty. But their lives are stuck in a loop and people come back and die again and again and he wonders if there will ever be a time when he doesn't have to fear being left alone.

2.7k, Taako & Lup Lup dies one cycle and then, years later, she dies again. But she always comes back. Hurt/comfort of the best kind.

Warmth by noxic

"It was a well-known fact among the residents of the Starblaster that Lup, Barry, and Taako slept in the same bed more often than not. It was one of those things that they just did without really talking about it."

2.1k, Barry & Lup & Taako The BLT fic of all time. Quality platonic adult sleepovers.

Taako the Matchmaker by @fantasysamsclub

In which Taako tries to set up his sister. Events take place during Stolen Century.

11.1k, Blupjeans & Taako Taako tries to set up blupjeans. Miscommunication ensues. Very sweet and funny.

red fishing line by @anistarrose

A routine performance of Sizzle it Up goes nightmarishly wrong, and at Lup’s bedside, Taako feels helpless. And when a red-robed guest appears before him, Taako doesn’t know how or what to feel at all.

3k, Barry & Lup & Taako Also the BLT fic of all time. Excellent subtle Taako characterization, and my favorite depiction of the familiarity-but-not of being voidfished. Warning for major character death.

Sunny-Side Up by @barry-j-blupjeans

And the world? The world loved Taako. For once in his gods-damned life, people loved him. They didn’t care about all the flaws, they didn’t care where he came from or who he was before. They loved his food and they loved him. No one would ever quite be at Taako’s level and that was something he thrived on. There would never be anyone who could measure up. Taako deserved this happiness. He worked for it. He wasted his fucking life away for it.

5.7k, Taako A wonderful character study, revolving around the role food plays in Taako's life. Fairly minor but impactful characters like Sazed and Taako's aunt are utilized in a very meaningful way. So well-written and warm. Warning for brief suicidal ideation.

On the Deck of the Starblaster by @papergardener

“What the… what are you all doing? We have work to do!” It’s a justified reaction, Lucretia thinks, to finding your entire crew literally lazing about on deck not an hour into this new cycle. “This one's on me,” Taako says. “It’s a new trend I like to call: taking a fucking break.” Cycle Nintey-Five. Everyone’s maybe not doing so good and could use a little warmth.

6.5k, Lucretia & Taako Near the end of the century, Lucretia is feeling rough. Taako pulls her out of her funk and initiates a much needed rest. Fantastic characterization, of Lucretia as a whole, and the loyal, warm side of Taako. Warning for mentions of a suicide attempt and suicidal ideation.

leaving, as an injustice by @anistarrose

When Mavis is eight, she starts finding her Dad asleep on the couch in the morning. Sometimes, he’s even all the way out on their tiny patio, with his head slumped onto a pillow atop the chess table, and bags beneath his eyes. In one of their following games, he tells her about tactical retreats.

4.7k, Mavis & Merle A study of Mavis and her relationship to Merle. Incredibly insightful into criminally underrated characters. Excellent Merle characterization.

Permission by vaguenotion

She’d been doing this on and off for the last hour, as if daring the men to catch up to them. Daring them to fight her. Every time seemed like a final stand. Here is where I will meet them, her shoulders said, hiked up around her ears. Here is where I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done. But then Taako would grab her hand, and she would turn and see the bruising on his throat, the blood drying on his brow, the tear in his shirt. And she would grip his hand in hers and together they would keep running.

12.6k, Taako & Lup My favorite depiction of the twins as children, both in character and realistic. Beautifully atmospheric, with so many small details that make the setting feel so real. Warning for assault and harm to children.

Come Hell or High Water by @nillial

“Taako,” Hurley asks, “where’s your magic umbrella?” Taako looks behind him. He had tossed the Umbrastaff in the path of a neighboring vehicle, which was beginning to catch up to them. He sees them now, far in the distance, and he sees his Umbrastaff, too, lying dangerously close to its wheels. As if on cue, he watches the tires crush it to pieces. “Whoops,” he says. - Lup is trapped. And then she isn’t. --- In which Taako breaks his umbrella during the Petals to the Metal race, unknowingly freeing Lup, who is almost immediately captured by Kravitz. After becoming a member of the Raven Queen's retinue with Kravitz as her trainer, she has two missions: 1) find her family, and 2) ruin Kravitz's afterlife. A story about enemies becoming friends and lost families finding their way back to one another.

197k (currently), Lup & Kravitz Incredible characterization. I love the way Lup is written. Hilarious shenanigans, sweet friendship-building, and terribly sad sometimes, because it dives deep into the reality of Lup existing in a world that's forgotten her.

Very cold water on a very hot day by @keplercryptids

Sometimes a family is a nerd who can't swim and the crunchy-haired watersport inventor who teaches him how. Surfer lingo required.

3.1k, Barry & Taako Deep dive into the beach year. Excellently in character, well-written dialogue, and a beautiful depiction of their growing friendship.

Children of Atlas by @papergardener

They’ve survived the apocalypse and now as far as they know, they’re the only ones left. Perhaps it was inevitable that they’d consider… repopulation. Lucretia writes up a weekly schedule to try and address that. Absolutely no one is happy with this.

76k (currently), IPRE crew The premise for this one is incredibly offputting, but I'm so glad I gave it a chance. The characterization and quality of writing is absolutely wonderful. I also love the attention to detail of the realistic difficulty of just surviving. Fantastically atmospheric, this fic dives deep into the uncertainty and fear of the first cycle, when the crew are all strangers, and the love that turns them into a family. Warning for extensive discussion of sexual assault.

Emissary Davenport by DragonWrites

A series of stories where Captain Davenport is secretly an emissary of Garl Glittergold, Gnomish god of pranks. And when you're a serious-minded captain on a mission to save all of reality, having a cheerful trickster god as your unexpected patron can get a little strange...

300k, Davenport A series of four works set in an AU where Davenport is an emissary to the leader of the gnomish pantheon. My absolute favorite depiction of Davenport, ever. The first three works are explorations of Davenport as a character and the relationships between people and gods in a DnD world. The last, Lost Gods, is the best fanfiction I've ever read. I can't express how good it is. The attention to detail among myriad plot threads, the building of themes, the characterization across just about every single character in Balance, all come together to create 223k words of a genuine masterpiece.

[anistarrose]

The possible explanations for why the fuck Barry could've felt the need to open that scene with "are you afraid?" have been analyzed by this fandom for basically ever since the Red Robe identity reveal, and a lot of people have brought up good theories that I've adopted bits and pieces of from each. But one thing that I haven't actually seen proposed as a factor is this:

Talking to Tres Horny Boys through the facade of the faceless "Red Robe" might've just been Barry's backup plan. Plan A was, quite possibly, to sneak Junior's ichor out of Lucretia's private quarters, be able to actually inoculate THB, and actually have them recognize him. (A proper reunion, with no cryptic warnings. With no dancing around static — just Barry and Tres Horny Boys, actually trusting each other innately.)

Why do I think this is plausible? Let me clarify the timeline a little: at the start of the Petals arc, before THB leave the Bureau, all is normal with their soon to be ex-roommate Pringles/Robbie (Ep. 18). Upon return, THB are informed that at some point during their (overnight, so 24 hour-ish?) absence, Pringles was thrown in the brig (Ep. 28).

It's eventually revealed by Pringles and Barry, in The Suffering Game and Reunion Tour respectively, that Barry possessed Pringles to do "reconnaissance" on the Bureau, specifically on where to find the second Voidfish (ie, Lucretia's private office, which is where Pringles "woke up" and was "arrested summarily").

I will note that Barry describes this as just recon — implying information gathering, and not necessarily a Voidfish ichor heist. However, this was an explanation he gave through a recorded message in the coin, where he was likely choosing his words carefully to confuse THB the least amount possible. And moreover... I just find it hard to believe that Barry wouldn't let himself hope, leading up to and during this infiltration, that he could make it out with the ichor he so desperately needed.

After all, Barry may be Going Through It during the podcast, but he definitely knows that as much as he needs information, it's going to be a lot harder to pull off his eventual heist if Lucretia catches him in the act, and winds up knowing that he has that information. Barry also chose to make his infiltration attempt while the Bureau was distracted, monitoring the Gaia Sash — in a lot of ways, this might've seemed like not just his first chance at the ichor, but also his best chance at it.

Barry's both an incredibly determined and opportunistic, calculating guy. I don't think Barry would've left Pringles' body unless/until he was absolutely cornered; no hope left of getting out with the ichor this time. He wouldn't pass up a chance to restore his family's memories — because of his deep, deep emotional and practical stakes in restoring those memories, first and foremost — but he even feels kinda bad about possessing Pringles (calling it "unfortunate collateral damage"), and would certainly prefer for his unsavory tactics to be, you know, worth it.

So when Barry fails? When he comes away from his mission he's no doubt been planning for weeks, waiting intently and single-mindedly for his chance with the right Relic-based distraction — and it turns out he has information, but no ichor, to show for it? When he fails, Barry's left on the back foot.

He'd dared to hope it might turn out better than this. He'd dared to hope this might be a turning point, and the world might remain in danger, but at least he'd have his family back. He'd dared to hope he might be able to speak to them, in his right mind, with his memories, and be recognized for the first time in a decade.

So when none of that comes to fruition? When he knows his boys won't recognize him yet, no matter what he does? Yet he still needs them on his side? He still needs them to be prepared for the horrors coming?

Well, he just fucking improvises.

"Are you afraid?"

[wordstome]

Last night I did what I always do when I can’t fall asleep: think about fictional men. Here’s a list of wonderful stories written by incredibly talented people who have helped me think about fictional men by providing the most delicious playgrounds.

In the interest of keeping my recommendations brief, I'm going to talk about what I liked about the fic instead of summarizing what it's about. To know what it's actually about you're just gonna have to click through and read the fic <3

(and just in case anybody's gotten lost, this is all COD, mostly modern MW)

✦ complete ║ ➠ ongoing

König

✦Just Friends by @kneelingshadowsalome Salome is so good at capturing a very unique interplay between König’s social awkwardness and his deep, dark, nasty inclinations. He’s so feral and enjoyable to read, and the sheer force of his desire for Engel is downright intoxicating. I find it difficult to describe how much of an impact Just Friends has had on me and my portrayal of König, to be honest. There's a reason why three of Salome's fics are on this rec list.

✦Fatum Nos Iungebit by kneelingshadowsalome Five words. König with his cock out. That's it. Okay, but in all seriousness, I love his character applied to this setting. All the raw visceral violence a König could ever want, a pretty little lady in his bed—he's so boyish and happy in this au it brings me such joy. The way their relationship between him and Fee develops is so natural and so sweet. Please for the love of God read this.

➠Cat/Mouse/Den by @papaver-decervicatus The chase. The pursuit. The adrenaline when Mouse dances out of König's reach once more. I'm a little biased because I adore Julius and Jenny (I could call her Lucretia but the double J names make me giggle) as ocs already, but CMD is so, so well written. The tension, the flirting, the scene where he catches her falling out of the tree?! As I said in a reblog, I shrieked. You know when you're reading something that's so good you want to bite down on it and shake like a dog with a toy? (No? Just me?) That's how I feel about CMD.

➠Anything by @darklordofthesimp Anything, in only 7 chapters (they are hefty, don’t get me wrong), has turned König and Birdy’s dynamic from “THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS IRREVERSIBLY SCARRED MY BODY AND MY BRAIN, AND I CANNOT TRUST HIM” to “these two are going to get married someday”. (author if you’re reading this, I say that not as an expectation or prediction, but as a vibe reading.) This one is for the hurt/comfort girlies. Also, shoutout to all the other stories set in the Anything-verse. Sunshine and Ghost are just soooo *grips my hand in a fist so hard it shakes*

➠If you need to be mean by @gremlingottoosilly This mostly serves as a blanket recommendation for all of Gremlin’s fics. I found If you need to be mean, and then visiting Gremlin’s author page was like opening a treasure chest. Want to be König’s pampered, (unwilling) little housewife? That’s If you need to be mean. Want a harem fic with almost all of the COD MW men? Gremlin has two, both with their own little spin to keep it fun. Do you want König to keep you in his basement or hunt you down as a serial killer? Gremlin's got it. Monsterfucker? Gremlin has that too. Special shoutout goes to 1295 kilometers. I think about fucking König on a train a lot now.

➠Break my mind by @kaiasdevotion (kaiasown on ao3) There’s no way around this. This fic has the most unhinged, kinky, downright dangerous smut I’ve read in the cod fandom so far (positive). Just Friends König is the metric by which I judge all other Königs’ nastiness, and Break my mind König is tipping so hard on the “unhinged horny violent freak (affectionate)” end of the scale he’s about to fall off. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I've developed a taste for writing/reading from König's perspective, and he's so chillingly deranged in the most controlled way possible during the chapters from his pov. Incredible writing. Chefs kiss.

✦Experimental by @uhohdad (surgeoninspace on ao3) Alright, enough of just König being nasty. He is still nasty in this one, but he’s not the only one who gets to have a little fun and be a total creep. Our little scientist here is a grade A pervert, and I was delighted the whole way through. The most important thing I need in a fic is suspension of disbelief, and Experimental takes an unrealistic, maybe a little bit silly situation and makes it so believable. Everybody reacts the way you would expect them to, even if the scenario they're in is A Lot.

➠Little Mouse and Rotes Madchen by @sprout-fics I'm combining the recommendation for these two because while they are both very much distinct, unique fics, I love them the same way. Sprout is such an engaging writer, and the internal dialogue of her characters is so well done. It reveals their personality, motivations, and internal conflicts without being overly expository. Do you guys remember that post I put on the König bible about instant obsession? It's this inexorable attraction borne from obsession that sticks me to Little Mouse like a glue trap. (Is that too morbid?)

✦Hot in Sarajevo by @50cal-fullauto Rags' König characterization post is on my Königcore bible, for very good reason. They get it. König is a feral dog forced to live as a man and loves like a total maniac, emotionally and sexually. I marked Hot in Sarajevo as complete but I don't know how many parts there are going to be, and frankly, I do want more. However, if you're going to only read one part (which. why would you do that??? read both.) I recommend the second part. I want to write love like that. Goddamn.

Ghost

Yeah, this list is a little bare bones right now. I'm gonna get back to it, I promise.

✦Anhedonia by kneelingshadowsalome The way. Salome takes the "I would take a bullet for him but he's so cold to me" premise and then flips it entirely on its head for the second part is so important to me. The way Simon craves the reader is like human catnip. I reread this fic all the time.

Keegan

✦For the Weak and Weary by @halcyone-of-the-sea Read this if you want to believe in true love. That's all. Go on now.

Multiple

✦Easy by @danibee33 When people say "I wish this were a book!" about fanfiction, they usually mean it in a "this is good enough to be published by the traditional publishing industry" way. When I say I want Easy (and Diablesa) to be a book, I mean it in a "I want to get this story bound in a beautiful ass cover and keep it on a shelf so I can take it down and reread it whenever I want" way. I don't want the traditional publishing industry to get their claws in this, because it's perfect as it is. This fic is so wild and fun, and the character moments are so special and well done. Do yourself a favor and savor this one.

➠@ghouljams's entire blog [masterlist] "What do you mean someone's entire blog" YOU HEARD ME. Those aus are some good shit. Good characterization, delicious premises, love the group effort of it all. To absolutely nobody's surprise, my favorite couple is König and Bee from the cowboy au (ditzy but well-meaning and competent in her own way woman x big strong man who is obsessed with her and maybe also creeping on her, my beloved), but I also have a fondness for Ghost and Die from demon darlings au. Trust me on this one. Dig into those masterlists babey.

[perciverthoughts]

The thing about Percy is, he’s really not half as perfect as he pretends to be.

“Fuck,” Penny says, wrenching open the window because she’s also not as perfect as she pretends to be, “give me that, will you?���

She snatches the freshly lit cigarette out of his hand before he can even take a puff, sucking on it desperately.

“Oi,” he protests, and she rolls her eyes but hands it back to him as she blows the lungful of smoke out the open window.

He places it between his lips, ignoring the slight oily taste from Penny’s lipgloss on it, just as desperate for the nicotine as she is. 

They really shouldn’t be doing this, and there will be hell to pay if Flitwick or the heads catch them- they’re prefects after all, and he had to give Danny Maslow detention just last week for doing the very same thing- but he also doesn’t care. He needs this. Merlin, nicotine is half the reason he gets through rounds some days without committing murder or having a breakdown, and after the meeting they just had he feels close to both.

Besides, Penny’s muggle cigarettes are so much smoother than any wizarding smoking device he’s ever tried.

“Fuck,” Penny repeats, because she swears like a goddamn sailor anytime she isn’t in front of the professors or busy being a prefect, “that was brutal.”

“Yeah.” Percy agrees, because holy shit it was.

She makes a grab for the cig and he dances out of reach, knowing what most people don’t: that underneath her carefully arranged curls and polished facade Penelope Clearwater is an absolute menace. 

“Get your own!”

“Who gave you that in the first place, hm?” Penny demands acerbically, but takes out her own pack all the same, along with a muggle lighter because she never quite got used to using a fire charm. “Fucking ingrate.”

“I resent that.” Percy informs her loftily.

“You should.”

He holds his nose up a second longer before he relaxes into a grin, the kind only a few people can draw out of him.

“Seriously though,” She returns to the matter at hand, done feigning her annoyance, “If I have to sit through another fucking meeting listening to Lucretia Hammond prattle on about ‘team unity’ and ‘presenting a united front’ I’m gonna be unified from azkaban when I kill her.”

Lucretia Hammond was the manically bubbly head girl, a seventh year ravenclaw whose caffeine intake could rival that of a healer working double shifts. With the rumours of the chamber of secrets floating around and the fact that half the school seemed ready to duel at a moments notice, she, along with her head boy sidekick Brodie Sangton, felt the need to remind the prefects to be good role models. Apparently, that meant doing an hour and half of team building exercises and messing up the rounds schedules so no one could patrol with their friends. 

“Maybe that was her actual plan all along,” Percy muses, “unite us all in our hatred for her.”

If that was actually the motivation behind it, even Percy has to admit it was kind of brilliant. He’s pretty sure if he asked anyone right now who’d sat through that bloody seminar to help him murder Lucretia and get away with it, they’d accept- and that was saying something considering Zafrina Rosier hadn’t even pretended that dropping him during trust falls was an accident.

“I wish I could believe that,” Penny sighs, “but she’s really not that smart.”

“Penelope Clearwater,” he gasps mockingly, “how could you say something so cruel? After what we just learned about kindness and unity going hand in hand-”

He jumps out of the way before she can smack him, cackling. 

“Bastard,” she grins, “you know I’m right.”

She is, is the problem. Lucretia Hammond could not be less suited to her job if she tried, and most days Percy is convinced she is trying. He has yet to figure out why Dumbledore appointed the Head Girl he did, because he’s sure there must have been a reason. There has to be, because no one in their right mind would put Lucretia Hammond in charge of anything unless they knew something about her most people don’t.

“Unfortunately, yes. Maybe if we hold a vote of no confidence we could impeach her.”

“This early in the term?” Penny blows a smoke ring, hopping up on the windowsill and kicking her legs like a child, “As first year prefects? McGonagall would say we haven’t given her a chance, and we’d be the ones with targets on our backs. Besides, something tells me Lucretia will hang herself soon enough without us needing to do anything.”

She blows another smoke ring, flicking her wand until the grey cloud twists into the shape of a jellyfish.

“Y’know, the whole point of opening the window was so that the whole room wouldn’t smell like smoke.”

Penny rolls her eyes. 

“Unlike you, I know how to do a refreshment charm so I don’t really need to worry about that.”

“Damn. Low blow.”

“Boo hoo, get over it.”

“Whatever,” he huffs, stubbing out his cigarette and vanishing it, “I gotta go, I’ve got an appointment.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling snogging your boyfriend in the library now?”

Percy blushes. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“No comeback for the snogging thing, huh?”

“Oliver,” he grits, “is-”

“-the love of your poor gay life, yes, we’re aware.”

“Oliver,” he repeats, purposely ignoring his best friend’s untrue insinuations, “is just a friend.”

“Right, of course,” Penny schools her face into something almost neutral, “just a friend.”

“Precisely.”

“...a friend you really want to snog senseless though. Like, you’re aware that you very much want to do that, right?”

“Oh fuck off!” 

He starts towards the door and Penny cackles.

“You didn’t deny it!” She calls after his retreating back, and he offers her a two finger salute before he steps into the hallway, smoothing his robes and straightening his hair.

After all, he needs to look his best for his study session with Oliver, because he isn’t as perfect as he pretends he is and because Penny is right.

He really does want to snog Oliver Wood senseless. 

[gabe-pilgrim-vs-the-world]

ALL of us need to educate ourselves...fast

Trump won. As much as I would like to say we will all get through this, not all of us will. As a matter of fact, the Trever Project has reported a 700% increase in suicide (calls) since the election. I'm scared, yes, but right now we have an opportunity to set up protections(VPNs, grassroots organizations, learning what we need to do to keep ourselves and others safe) that will be harder to access under Trump. I'm going to leave some videos/websites/books that I can think of off the top of my head. I don't agree with everything said,far from it actually, so put your critical thinking cap on ;). If ya'll have anything like this send it to me, please. I'm deleting this on December 31 (I realized I will sooner watch Pregar U for fun than bend a knee to Trump and his buddies). Good luck to everyone.

(I originally wrote this statement in a mad haze and didn't check my sources, Rookie mistake I know, and ended up getting it very wrong that the suicide rate increased by 700%, when it was just calls. I sincerely apologize.)

!!GET A FRICKING VPN THAT IS NOT INSIDE THE 14 EYES & DOES NOT LOG!!

Websites:

ACLU // Amnesty International // CODEPINK // EFF // The Trever Project // justicemap.org

Video Essays:

What Did We Learn? by Signified B Sides // Solidarity is Supposed to be Hard. by Elliot Sang // The Alt-Right Playbook by Innuendo Studios(series) // Andrewism // First Thought // Second Thought // What is Project 2025 What is Project 2025? | what you should probably know about it by Dasia Sade // Mutual Aid is Radical! by COLORMIND. // Media Literacy Can't Save Us by Dummy // How Mutual Aid Works (and Why You Should Care) by Lucretia McEvil // Donald Trump is Not A Fascist Pt. 2 by The Morbid Zoo // Shanspeare // Hamilton and the Death of the Obama Era by Alexander Avila

Read:

The Transgender Issue: An Argument for Justice Hardcover by Shon Faye // Searching for Savanna: The Murder of One Native American Woman and the Violence Against the Many Hardcover by Mona Gable // The Devil's Chessboard: Allen Dulles, the CIA, and the Rise of America's Secret Government by David Talbot // To Banish Forever: A Secret Society, the Ho-Chunk, and Ethnic Cleansing in Minnesota by Cathy Coats // The Jakarta Method by Vincent Bevins // Uncomfortable Conversations With a Black Man by Emmanuel Acho // Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer //

Socialism & Communism:

I beg you to learn what both are because we are going to hear a lot about them in the next 4 years. Learn from sites like socialism101, NPR, or hell even Reddit. Just learn a bit more so the term "Marxist" doesn't catch you off guard when arguing with your MAGA grandpop.

This is all I have on hand right now. Stay safe loves <3

[sleekervae]

Wicked Games ❅ 24

Masterlist

A/N: happy early birthday to the man of the hour!

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x socialite!fem!reader

Summary: inauguration night

Warnings: politicians being politicians, heavy smut, nudity, semi-public smut

Word Count: 5,803

The President’s Palace was alive with the hum of celebration. Laughter and music drifted through the grand halls, as Panem’s elite reveled in the triumph of the new era. Sable stood at the top of the sweeping staircase, her breath caught in her throat as she gazed out at the glittering sea of chandeliers and polished marble that stretched far into the distance. Of all the incredible places she’d been, all the grand homes and luxurious settings, none compared to this. The palace was more than just a symbol of power—it was a world unto itself, vast and timeless, steeped in history and prestige.

For a moment, Sable could hardly believe she was here. Not as a guest or a curious onlooker, but as someone who belonged. Someone who had made it.

She turned slightly, catching sight of Coriolanus across the room. He was surrounded by dignitaries and officials, but his presence dominated the space. Even in the midst of conversation, his sharp eyes roved over the room, taking in every detail, every corner. Sable could see the gears turning in his mind, the way he sized up his surroundings. He wasn’t just admiring the palace—he was claiming it, staking his place in its hallowed halls. This wasn’t merely a seat of power to him. No, he could make it a home. A kingdom. His kingdom. And she could feel, even from across the room, that she was part of that vision.

A smile touched her lips as she joined her friends, Poppy, Lucretia, and Gamma, who had gathered in a corner of the vast ballroom. They were all wide-eyed, glancing around in awe, their chatter bubbling with excitement.

“I can’t believe this is where you live now,” Poppy said, her voice low with amazement, as she surveyed the opulence around them.

“It’s like something out of a dream,” Gamma added, her fingers brushing over the hem of her gown as she looked up at the towering ceilings.

Lucretia leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Honestly, Sable, how does it feel to be queen of the palace?”

Sable laughed, shaking her head. “Hardly a queen. I’m just trying to figure out where the kitchen is.”

But despite her lighthearted words, there was something surreal about standing here, surrounded by her oldest friends, knowing that she had made it this far. She had done it. She was at the heart of Panem, standing beside its new president. And yet, despite the grandeur, there was a part of her that still felt like the girl she had been—not so long ago—on the outside looking in.

“So,” Poppy began, her eyes narrowing with a teasing lilt. “When does he pop the question?”

Sable was momentarily taken aback, "What?"

"She's joking," Lucretia pointed out, "Remember? Sable's the only one who can trick a president into marrying her," she mocked Poppy's voice, a joke from months ago that had first planted the idea in Sable's head.

Sable opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, a familiar voice cut through the conversation. “I’m stealing her for a moment.”

Coriolanus appeared at her side, a charming smile playing on his lips as he looked at the group. His hand slipped around Sable’s waist, effortlessly pulling her toward him. “If you don’t mind.”

The girls exchanged glances, their expressions somewhere between amusement and envy, but none of them objected.

"Just bring her back in one piece, Mr. President," Gamma replied coyly.

Sable shot them an apologetic smile before turning to Coriolanus, raising an eyebrow. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he murmured, his lips brushing the edge of her ear as he leaned in closer.

Without another word, Coriolanus whisked her away, leading her down one of the long, shadowy corridors that branched off from the main ballroom. Sable followed, her hand clasped tightly in his, as they wove through the palace’s labyrinthine halls. She had no idea where he was taking her, but something in his grip told her it didn’t matter. This was his domain now, and whatever he had planned, she trusted him implicitly.

The air grew quieter as they moved away from the noise of the party, the distant sounds of music fading behind them. The towering ceilings and expansive rooms seemed to close in around them, the vastness of the palace overwhelming in its sheer scale.

Eventually, Coriolanus stopped in front of a set of double doors, their dark wood carved with intricate designs. He paused, glancing at her with a look she couldn’t quite read.

“Welcome to the next chapter,” he said softly, his eyes locked on hers, before he pushed the doors open, revealing a hidden wing of the palace that felt untouched by the rest of the world.

Sable stepped inside, the warmth of the room drawing her in. The space was bare, a contrast to the grandiosity of the palace. The light was minimal, there was simply a table with three, large stained glass windows looming up to the ceiling. She looked around, curiosity piqued. “What is this place?”

Coriolanus smiled, pulling her into the room with him. “It's yours,”

Sable’s heart skipped a beat at his words. Coriolanus led her further into the room, his voice soft but filled with intent. "Every inch of this palace has been set up for me. My offices, the grand halls, even the gardens—everything is tailored to what I need." He paused, turning to face her, his eyes searching hers. "But nothing here has been set up for you."

Sable blinked, taking in the vast, empty space around them. The room was grand but had a certain quietness to it, as if waiting to come to life. She glanced back at him, unsure of what he was getting at.

Coriolanus stepped closer, his hands gently brushing her arms. "I want this to be your space, Sable. Your studio. A place where you can paint, create—do whatever you want. No expectations, no limits. I'll even stay out if you want" He gestured around the room, his voice taking on a more personal tone. "I’ve thought about it. I know how much your art means to you, how much you’ve sacrificed. I don’t want you to feel like you’re losing yourself here, like you're just part of this world I’ve stepped into."

Sable's breath caught, her heart swelling as she looked up at him. “You mean this is… for me?”

“All yours,” he said, his gaze steady, sincere. “I want you to have a place in this palace, not just by my side, but for yourself. I don’t want you to feel like you’re fading into the background. You should have your own mark here, something that’s uniquely yours."

Her fingers grazed the smooth surface of a nearby table, her mind racing. The idea of a space just for her, a place where she could retreat to and pour her heart into her art—it was more than she ever could have expected. And to hear it from Coriolanus, to know he wanted this for her, meant more than she could express.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Sable whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She turned to him, her eyes shining. “You really want me here, don't you?”

Coriolanus smiled, pulling her into his arms. “Of course I do! You’re a part of this. Whatever I build here, I’m building it with you.” His hand found hers, squeezing gently. "This palace isn’t just mine. It’s ours.”

Sable’s heart raced as the weight of Coriolanus’ words sank in. The room seemed to close in around them, the world outside their private moment fading into insignificance. She had felt this way for a while now, the emotion bubbling beneath the surface, but hearing him speak about a shared future unlocked something inside her. Without thinking, she blurted out, “I love you.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Sable felt her pulse quicken, fear creeping into her chest as she wondered if she had said too much, too soon. She looked up at Coriolanus, searching his face for any sign of how he might respond.

Coriolanus stared at her, the words settling over him like a sudden wave. Love. The word felt foreign on his tongue, a distant echo from a life he had once lived. He thought he had known what love felt like—he had believed it once, with Lucy Gray. The intensity, the passion, the thrill of the unknown. But that was different. Fleeting. Desperate.

This was something else.

He looked at Sable, standing there with her heart laid bare, and for the first time, he realized what love really looked like. It wasn’t frantic or burning with the same wild intensity he’d once known. It was steady. Sure. A feeling that grew in the quiet moments, in the trust between them, in the way she saw him—truly saw him.

Coriolanus gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze softening as he tried to find the right words. "I... I'm not sure I ever really understood love before." His voice was quiet, thoughtful. "I thought I did once. I thought I knew what it meant." He paused, his hand tracing the side of her face, his touch light. "But with you, it's different. It’s not just about the thrill or the rush. It’s about seeing you, knowing you, and wanting you here."

He took her hand again, his grip firm, anchoring her to him. "I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this before. But when I look at you... I’m sure of it. I know love when I see you, Sable."

Sable’s breath caught, the world around them narrowing to just the two of them in that intimate space. She could see it in his eyes—the depth of his confession, the unspoken words that he was still learning how to say. For all of Coriolanus' control, his certainty in the public sphere, this was different. This was raw and real.

She smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest, "Then we’ll figure it out together," she said softly. "We don’t have to know everything now."

Coriolanus’s gaze softened as his hand found its way to her cheek, his thumb tracing a slow, gentle path along her skin. Sable’s breath hitched, her heart racing in the stillness between them. He leaned in, his movements unhurried, his forehead brushing hers as if savoring the moment.

When their lips met, it was delicate—a soft, tentative kiss that sent warmth spreading through her. Sable’s hand instinctively rested against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, grounding her in the simplicity of the moment. It wasn’t hurried or intense, but rather a quiet, intimate exchange, like they were memorizing each other through the smallest of gestures.

Coriolanus’s hand lingered at the small of her back, pulling Sable closer as the kiss deepened. What began as soft and tentative quickly turned into something more. There was a spark between them, and as their lips moved together, that spark ignited into a slow-burning flame. The tension in the air shifted, the quiet intimacy giving way to a rising intensity.

Sable’s fingers tangled in his hair as the kiss grew bolder, her body pressing against his as if they both needed more—more closeness, more connection. Coriolanus responded in kind, his grip tightening around her waist, his kisses becoming more insistent, more demanding. They had the palace to themselves, no one to interrupt them, and the thought of that seemed to stir something in them both.

The passion between them built with each kiss, lips parting, breath mingling as they gave in to the moment. His hands roamed, sliding up her back with a possessive edge that sent a shiver down her spine. Sable’s pulse quickened, her body alive with the thrill of being alone with him, of being lost in this private world they’d created.

When Coriolanus pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes darkened with desire, Sable’s breath came out in a shallow gasp. The room around them faded into insignificance. They could’ve been anywhere, but the grand palace, with its empty halls and secret rooms, only fueled the unspoken ideas that flickered between them. His lips hovered near hers, teasing her with the promise of more.

“I think we can take our time here,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with suggestion, his lips brushing hers again.

Sable smiled, her own mind drifting toward wicked thoughts. “Are you sure?” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his chest. "People might start to miss the man of the hour..."

Coriolanus chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending a jolt of warmth through Sable. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Let them miss me.

And with that, Coriolanus captured her lips once more, this time with a fire that spoke of more than just the moment—it was a claim, a shared understanding that they were alone in this palace, and all the possibilities stretched ahead of them. The rest of the world could wait.

Coriolanus's fingers traced the delicate curve of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Sable's heart raced as she felt the heat of his body pressed against hers, their desires intertwining in a ballet of longing and need. The music from the distant ballroom provided a haunting melody to their clandestine rendezvous, a soundtrack to their stolen moments together.

Their breaths mingled in the cool night air, creating a mist of desire around them. Sable's senses were heightened, every sensation amplified in the presence of this enigmatic man who held her so fiercely. This night would be forever ingrained in her memory. Six months of intense negotiations, strategic moves, and desperate measures had all led up to this crucial moment. Coriolanus the Capitol’s President, and Sable was his first lady.

Coriolanus had been thinking about Sable's dress all evening—an icy blue gown that clung to her in all the right places, yet draped elegantly, almost teasingly, as if daring him to reach beneath the fabric. The delicate shimmer of it had caught his eye the moment she stepped into the party, and ever since, he'd been fighting the urge to rip it off her, to claim her fully in the privacy of this palace.

Now, with no one around and Sable in his arms, that restraint began to crumble. As their lips met again, this time more demanding, Coriolanus’s hands slid down her back, his fingers grazing the soft fabric of the gown. He tugged her closer, his mind racing with every thought he'd pushed aside earlier. He wanted her, all of her, and the shimmering silk that once felt like armor between them now felt like an obstacle. 

Sable gasped into the kiss as his hands roamed her body, her dress flowing around them like a frozen waterfall, cool and smooth but unable to disguise the heat building between them. The gown, with its pristine elegance, had made her look every bit the first lady she now was. But here, alone, she was his—just his—and that thought drove him wild.

His lips moved to her neck, trailing heat down her skin, his mind flashing back to the way she had looked across the ballroom, the icy color of her dress striking against the backdrop of the night. He had wanted to tear it away then, to see only her, bare and vulnerable before him. Now, with each touch, he felt that moment drawing nearer, the desire coiling tightly within him.

Sable moaned softly, her fingers clutching at his shoulders as if sensing his thoughts, mirroring the same need. She pulled him closer, pressing herself into him, her breath coming faster as his hands moved over her body with growing impatience.

“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” Coriolanus murmured against her skin, his voice thick with want. His grip on her tightened, his lips finding hers again, the kiss deepening with the intensity that had been simmering beneath the surface since the start of the night. The palace, the party, the future—it all seemed distant now.

Right here, in this moment, all he could think about was her. The music from the ballroom seemed to fade away. The only sound was their breathing, shallow and uneven, as if they were running a race to the finish line that was their desire. As his fingers worked at the delicate buttons running down her back, he could feel Sable trembling slightly against him. The anticipation was almost too much to bear.

With one swift motion, he unfastened the last button and the dress fell away from her body, pooling at her feet like melted snow. His brows raised — she wore no bra and no underwear. Now she was truly his first lady: exposed and vulnerable, yet stronger than ever before. In this palace of marble and gold, they were desperately ordinary—two people lost in the thrall of passion that had been building for weeks.

His hands moved over her skin again, this time without the barrier of fabric. She felt like a frozen waterfall beneath him—smooth and cold to the touch, but promise of warmth just underneath. Coriolanus paused, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he looked at her—Sable standing before him, the icy blue gown at her feet, bare in the soft glow of the would-be studio. The moment hung in the air, thick with anticipation, but something flickered in his mind.

Without a word, he moved away from her, eyes locked on hers, as he strode toward the double doors. His hand found the lock, twisting it with a decisive click, ensuring that no one could disturb them now. The sound echoed through the room, solidifying the privacy, shutting the world out so that only they remained.

As he turned back to her, Coriolanus’s gaze darkened, a knowing smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he slowly made his way back. Every step seemed deliberate, conscious of every breath, as though savoring the moment before they crossed the line between patience and abandon.

Sable, her eyes still wide with anticipation, felt a shiver race down her spine as he approached her again. He was no longer the controlled politician, but the man who had been waiting for this all night, watching her, wanting her. His hands returned to her skin, no fabric left to hinder him, his touch both tender and filled with raw intensity.

“Mine,” Coriolanus whispered against her ear, his breath hot on her skin as his lips found hers again. This kiss was different—demanding, consuming. The tension that had been simmering between them exploded, the last of his restraint gone as he pulled her close, their bodies pressed against each other in a perfect, desperate fit.

Sable’s hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer still, as their kiss deepened. His hands roamed her body, mapping every inch of her, the heat of his touch igniting her senses. She moaned softly, lost in the moment, the intensity of his desire overwhelming her.

Sable's fingertips danced over the buttons of Coriolanus' shirt, her touch sending shivers down his spine. She took her time, savoring each button as if it were a delicious morsel. Her eyes never left his, the smoldering heat in her gaze making his heart race.

As she reached the final button, she slowly slid her fingers inside the open collar, brushing against the soft hair on his chest. Coriolanus could barely contain his desire as she traced her fingers down his abs, teasingly close to where he ached for her touch.

Sable's lips curled into a wicked smile as she gripped the lapels of his shirt and tugged it down his arms. The cool air hit his skin, sending goosebumps racing across his flesh.

Sable's eyes roamed over his bare chest, taking in every inch of his toned muscles. She ran her hands over his pecs, her nails lightly scratching his skin. Coriolanus groaned at the sensation, his body begging for more.

Coriolanus hoisted Sable's naked form onto the wooden table, her full breasts bouncing with the movement. He could see her hardened nipples, begging to be touched. Her lack of undergarments left her at his mercy, and he took a moment to appreciate her bare pussy, glistening with her arousal.

He leaned in close, his breath hot on her neck as he whispered, "You know what I love about you, Sable? Your body's always so eager for me."

Sable let out a soft moan as Coriolanus's fingers traced a path down her spine, sending shivers up and down her body. "Tell me more," she breathed.

Coriolanus smirked, his eyes dark with desire. "I love the way your nipples harden when I touch them, just like this." He reached up and cupped her bare breast, his thumb flicking over the tight peak.

Sable arched her back, pressing herself into his touch. "And what else do you love?" she asked, her voice husky with need.

Coriolanus leaned in and nipped at her earlobe, making her gasp. "I love the way your pussy glistens when I tease you like this," he growled.

He began to trace his fingers up the sides of her pussy, causing her to shudder and squirm in anticipation. She spread her legs wider, giving him better access to her sensitive folds. He used his thumb to tease her clit, applying just enough pressure to make her whimper. He could feel her body responding to his touch, her hips bucking and her breathing becoming more ragged.

He had become an expert when it came to her body; he increased the tempo on Sable's clit. The pulsating pressure on her most sensitive spot sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading up her spine. She moaned, her hips bucking in response to the overwhelming sensation.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmured into her ear. "You like it when I touch you like this."

Sable whimpered and nodded, her body trembling with pleasure. "Yes," she moaned. "Don't stop."

Coriolanus continued his relentless assault, his skilled fingers dancing over her sensitive clit with increasing speed and intensity. Sable's body responded eagerly, growing slick and hot as waves of pleasure washed over her. Her hips instinctively lifted to meet his touch, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she begged for more.

"Oh fuck, Corio," she gasped, her voice husky with desire.

With one swift and sure motion, he slid a single finger inside her. The feeling was electric, lighting her nerve endings on fire. Her senses were ablaze with pleasure as she dug her nails into his shoulders, using them for leverage as he continued to pleasure her. A flood of pleasure surged through her body as she arched her back and let out a guttural moan. Wave after wave of intense ecstasy crashed over her, causing her whole body to convulse and tremble with delight. She was completely lost in the moment, carried away by the sheer intensity of his touch.

But Coriolanus wasn't done yet. He added a second finger, curling them inside her and hitting her g-spot with each gentle thrust. Sable's body arched in response, the pleasure nearly overwhelming her senses. Her cries of pleasure echoed through the room as he continued to expertly stimulate her.

He leaned in close to her ear, whispering, "You like that, don't you, Sable? You like how my fingers feel inside you."

Sable could only whimper in response, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. Coriolanus chuckled, a low, sexy sound that sent shivers down her spine. He added a third finger, stretching her even further. Sable moaned, her hips bucking against his hand.

Coriolanus continued to tease her, his words dirty and filthy. "You're so wet for me, baby. I can feel how much you want this. How much you need it." He pumped his fingers in and out of her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over her.

Sable's breath was coming in short gasps now, her body on the edge of release. "Corio — I'm going to come," she moaned, her hips bucking wildly as she rode the wave of pleasure.

Coriolanus’s smile widened, he whispered, "Come for me, baby. Let go and come all over my fingers."

That was all it took. Sable's body shattered, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. Coriolanus continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, prolonging her pleasure until she was a writhing, trembling mess. 

He continued to work her with his fingers, his own arousal evident in the way his breathing grew ragged. Sable could feel herself building towards another orgasm, her body quivering with anticipation. She clung to him, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her nails digging into his skin. Sable screamed as she came, her body convulsing with the intensity of her orgasm.

Coriolanus slowed his movements, allowing Sable to catch her breath before he started all over again. He was relentless in his pursuit of her pleasure, his fingers working her body with expert precision. And Sable, lost in the haze of desire, surrendered herself to the pleasure he was giving her.

Meanwhile, the party outside still buzzed with excitement. Guests laughed and mingled, their glasses of champagne reflecting the twinkling chandeliers above, but not everyone was in the mood to celebrate.

Garrison paced the length of the ballroom, his sharp eyes scanning the room for any sign of Coriolanus. His jaw tightened with each passing minute, the pressure of keeping everything on schedule weighing heavily on his mind. The fireworks were moments away, the grand finale of the evening, and yet, the new President was nowhere to be found.

“Where the hell is he?” Garrison muttered under his breath, his irritation growing with every step. His eyes darted toward the double doors at the far end of the ballroom.

Tigris, calm as ever, approached him with a serene smile, holding a glass of champagne. “Garrison, relax,” she said gently, handing him the glass. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor with all that pacing.”

He took the champagne but barely sipped, shaking his head. “The fireworks are about to start, and Coriolanus is missing. This isn’t part of the plan. We need him out here.”

Tigris arched an eyebrow, a light laugh escaping her lips. “Garrison, it’s just fireworks. I’m sure Coriolanus won’t be too miffed if he misses them.” She waved a hand dismissively. “He’s probably lost in here somewhere, unwinding maybe.”

Garrison huffed, clearly not as convinced. “Unwinding? He’s the President now, Tigris. There’s no time for that. This is his night—the Capitol needs to see him.”

Tigris gave him a knowing look, leaning in slightly. “Believe me, wherever Coriolanus is, I’m sure he’s well aware of his responsibilities. Besides, I doubt he will let a few fireworks get in the way of… whatever he’s up to right now.”

That remark caught Garrison off guard, and he blinked, finally realizing what she was implying. His cheeks reddened slightly as he cleared his throat. “Right,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling a little foolish.

Tigris smiled wider, watching him as he finally stopped pacing and leaned against the nearest column, resigning himself to the party's festivities. “Enjoy the night, Garrison. You’ve earned it,” she said before turning her attention back to the crowd.

Garrison exhaled, still a bit antsy, but realizing there was little more he could do. With a final glance at the clock, he decided to take her advice.

Sable was panting and gasping for air as her body slowly came down from the peak of her third orgasm. The intensity of Coriolanus' touch had left her completely spent, but she couldn't help but want more.

"You like that, baby?" he whispered, his voice low and husky. "Only I can make you feel this good."

Sable could only nod, her breath coming in short gasps as Coriolanus expertly teased her with his fingers. She was already so sensitive, but her body was aching for more.

"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me."

Her heels had slipped off her feet long ago, scattered across the floor as Coriolanus pulled her into him, her butt just resting on the edge of the table. His powerful hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he thrust into her with an animalistic fervor. Sable gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt the full length of him fill her up.

Coriolanus groaned as he felt the tight heat of Sable's body envelop him. He pulled back and then drove into her again, harder this time, eliciting a moan from deep within her throat. Sable's legs wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as her nails dug into his back.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Coriolanus groaned, his hips beginning to move in a slow, steady rhythm. "You're so tight, so wet. All for me."

Sable whimpered, her hips rising to meet his every thrust. The feeling of him inside her was almost overwhelming, the pleasure building with every movement.

"You're the only one who can make me feel this way," she moaned, her voice laced with desire. "Only you."

“Tell me more,” he growled into her ear.

Sable gasped, her breath hitching in her throat as she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. "I love the way you fuck me," she moaned, her voice low and breathless. "The way you take control and make me feel so good."

Coriolanus grunted in reply, his fingers digging into her hips as he pounded into her with even more force.

Sable arched into him as she felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. "I love the way you play with my clit," she gasped, "The way you rub it in just the right way to make me come."

His fingers danced over her sensitive nub, working in time with his thrusts. She could feel the tension building inside her, her muscles tightening as she neared climax.

"Fuck, yes," she cried out, her voice echoing off the walls. "Just like that. Don't stop."

Coriolanus growled in response, his hips pistoning even faster as he drove himself deeper and deeper into her. She could feel his cock swelling inside her, his own orgasm building as well.

"Keep going," he panted, his breath hot against her ear. Her fingernails dug into his back, urging him on as he thrust deeper. He groaned, the sensation of her tight, wet heat surrounding him almost too much to bear. He could feel every inch of her, her body yielding to his with each movement.

"Only you can make me feel this way," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Only you can make me feel alive."

Coriolanus's rhythm quickened, his thrusts growing more urgent as he listened to her words. He couldn't deny his possessive nature towards her; he felt a sense of pride in being the one who could bring her such intense pleasure.

"That's it, baby," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me how good I make you feel."

Sable moaned again, her head falling back against his shoulder as she rode the wave of pleasure crashing over her. "You make me feel like I'm on fire," she gasped, her voice hoarse with need. "There's nowhere else I want to be and no one else I want to be with. You own me, Coriolanus. You own my body and my soul."

Her words seemed to fuel his passion, and Coriolanus's thrusts became more frenzied, his breath hot on her skin as he prowled over her. The table beneath them creaked and groaned with the force of their passion. Sable's breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples tight and hard.

"Say my name again," he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her body.

Sable moaned, her head thrown back as she felt another orgasm building. "Coriolanus," she muttered, her words slurring together as the pleasure swelled inside her. "I'm yours. Only ever yours."

Coriolanus relentlessly pounded into her, his hips snapping with each thrust. His fingers on her clit rubbed furiously as she squirmed against him. Slowly but surely, Sable's orgasm grew, her muscles clenching around him as she cried out his name. Coriolanus could feel his own climax building, his testicles drawing up as he plunged into her one last time. With a triumphant growl, he released himself, his body quaking as he filled her with everything he had.

Their eyes locked as they climaxed, their breaths ragged and heavy. Coriolanus's body shuddered as he thrust deeper, filling Sable completely. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging in as she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. Her body convulsed and she cried out, her voice echoing through the room as she came down from her peak.

Coriolanus slowly withdrew from her, his erection wilting as he pulled out of her slick, wet folds. Their bodies glistened with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison as they caught their breath. Sable's eyes never left his, her gaze burning with raw emotion.

"That was…" she began, her voice hoarse and unsure.

"Incredible." Coriolanus finished for her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin, "You are incredible,"

Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of fireworks erupted outside, their bright colors lighting up the windows of the palace. Coriolanus pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing as he realized he had completely forgotten about the fireworks show.

“Damn,” he muttered, glancing toward the double doors, the sounds of celebration spilling in from the ballroom. “I forgot all about that.”

Sable's lips curved into a playful smile, laughter bubbling up from deep within her. “Well, it seems like you got a little distracted,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Coriolanus chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders as he looked back at her, a grin spreading across his face. “You could say that. But I wouldn’t trade that distraction for anything.”

Sable laughed again, the sound bright and infectious, filling the intimate space around them. “What do you think they’ll say if they realize the new President is missing during his own fireworks show?”

“Let them talk,” he replied, his voice laced with a mixture of amusement and affection. “Right now, I have my own celebration to attend to.”

As the fireworks continued to explode outside, illuminating the night sky with dazzling colors, Coriolanus pulled Sable back into his arms, his heart still racing from his high. The world outside faded out for the night, Coriolanus had everything he needed to celebrate right here.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

Carey didn't really like going into the Director's office. Like, yeah, sure, she'd have to come on by every once and a while if Lucretia wanted to talk to her or just some of the Regulators in general. But being in an office wasn't exactly Carey's preferred "let's have a conversation zone". Sadly, this was a conversation she would prefer to have as soon as possible, so waiting to catch the Director outside her office was a no-go.

Carey rapped on the door, and then let herself in before the Director could answer. The office had grown more cluttered since Candlenights. Maybe it was the quick pace they were making with collecting the Relics, but the Director often seemed much more weary than she used to. There were times when she truly looked her age. Carey didn't know much about how humans aged— though she was learning! She was learning.— but every time she looked, the Director seemed to have aged a few more years.

There was a stack of papers stacked on her desk in a messy pile. The Director had three out in front of her— Carey could recognize Magnus's chicken scratch. She seemed to be reviewing the mission reports from the last relic collection. The Temporal Chalice and whatnot. At the very least, that might make this conversation a little easier.

The Director looked up at her. Had she ever told them how old she was? She looked worn and on edge, but she put on her professional face as Carey shut the door, the face she rarely let anyone see her without. Carey knew when someone was wearing a mask all too well.

"Carey," she said, moving the reports aside. "What can I do for you?"

Okay. Okay. She could do this. Just had to say words! In a good order. Yeah.

"Well, uh," Carey said, sitting herself down in one of the chairs across from the Director's desk. "I just had a question, 'Creesh."

The Director let out a little annoyed sigh. She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Please don't call me that," she said.

"Just keepin' you on your toes," Carey said. She swung her tail back and forth to give herself something to do. "No, but, for real. I did have a question."

The Director waved her hand in a "go ahead" motion. Carey cleared her throat.

"Is there anything… other than the Voidfish that can, like, static up someone's memories?"

The Director blinked. She sat up a little.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," Carey said. How in-depth did she want to go with this? She picked around in her mind for a starting point. Her gaze lingered on the mission reports and Magnus's shitty handwriting a moment longer. "Y'know the— the whole thing that the Chalice did where it, uh… rooted through the boys' memories a bit?"

The Director kept her face perfectly neutral. Not a crack.

"I'm aware," she said, glancing down at the reports as well.

"I don't know how, uhm, in-depth they got with you on those reports," Carey said, even though she did know exactly how in-depth Magnus had gone with his (which is to say: barely anything. The deep and understandable distrust of authority figures hadn't changed in Refuge.). "But I was talkin' to Magnus and, uh. We were just wondering. 'Cus there was an entire… bit. With a buncha static, apparently? Like, a real long bit. And I know static is kinda the Voidfish's thing, but he's inoculated obviously, so—?"

She left the question open-ended, watching the Director's face. As expected, there wasn't a shift in expression. There was open concern there, a little bit of curiosity. But from what Carey could tell, the Director seemed to be telling the truth when she said,

"As far as I'm aware of, nothing else has powers remotely like the Voidfish." She paused, tilting her head. "It may be a memory spell, or mayhaps a curse? But Magnus should— he should not be receiving any memory-impacting side effects of the Voidfish since he has been inoculated with the ichor."

"Killian was thinkin' curse," Carey admitted, swinging her legs. "But then it's just like— why, y'know? Like whatever he can't remember isn't doing anything other than— than— ughhhh." Carey dragged her hand down her face. "Director, can you keep a secret?"

"Carey," the Director said, with a touch of humor. "Think of who you're asking."

"Fair enough," Carey relented. "It's just— it's not my secret to tell, but also you are like, one of the only people I could think of of knowing what the hell might be going on. But it's— well, y'know how Magnus grew up in Raven's Roost?"

"I'm well aware," the Director said. "As he keeps mentioning it every other conversation we have."

"Yeah," Carey said. "He does that. But he— I mean, again, he grew up in Raven's Roost. Like, that's his entire thing. But, uhm. He told me that sometimes in like, the last few years he lived there, things seemed… off?"

"How do you mean?"

Carey groaned, trying to think.

"Like— his mom ran a flower shop? But no one ever heard of it before. No— no one seemed to know his mom. And I can tell it upset him, but he doesn't like to talk about it, y'know? It's hard— it's hard to kinda chip away at his brain when he doesn't really trust his brain in the first place."

And there it was. For the first time since Carey entered the room, a small crack appeared in the Director's perfect mask. It was a small thing— she clenched her jaw and drew back on herself slightly, barely enough to be noticeable. And the look in her eyes changed from professional interest to completely and utter devastation and back to professional interest once more. She locked herself back up even faster than Magnus did. That being said, Carey wasn't as close with the Director as she was with Magnus.

She knew Magnus's tells. The way he held himself, the tiniest change in his expressions, the pitch of his voice. But it was hard to see past the brick wall that was the Director's facade. All she got were these little glances, the restless note in her speech, the state of her office.

Magnus held secrets he didn't know about. Carey knew that. The Director looked like she held all her secrets and the weight of the world as well. In some way, she did.

Carey didn't know if she'd be able to have the courage to do what the Director did. She was beginning to become uncertain if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Magnus should not be receiving any memory-impacting side effects of the Voidfish," the Director repeated, voice steady, body still. Carey's tail thrashed a bit. Then, with a touch of sincerity and a weird twist of what Carey could only identify as yearning, she added, "but I genuinely hope you can find something that will ease Magnus's mind."

"Yeah," Carey said, watching as the Director straightened the reports out, then pick up a pen. "Me too."

[getvalentined]

I really love all your Vincent analysis, I get very excited whenever you post them. I was wondering something, Grimoire has always seemed a very distant figure in canon, (yet he affects so much) and it is very likely that his and Vincent's relationship wasn't the best. But I am curious as to what you think his reaction to the experiments Hojo and Lucretia put him through would be if he was informed? Especially given that Grimoire knew Lu well. (I know this is completely non-canon)

Believe it or not, way back in 2011 I posted a hastily-drawn Ask Vincent Valentine entry that addresses exactly this! It's been a really long time, and my opinion there hasn't really changed, but I'm more than happy to expand on the concept in more detail now.

We don't actually have a lot of information on Grimoire as a character, and even less on his relationship with Vincent, so most of my opinion here is definitely headcanon, and I'll be tagging this post accordingly. That said, we do know a few things, and establishing the details of their relationship as I understand it is pretty integral to my opinion of how Grimoire would handle Vincent's inclusion in Lucrecia's terrifying thesis project.

First, Grimoire and Vincent seem to have had some kind of falling out in the past. Although it's impossible to say what caused it or how recent this was, it's fairly clear based on Grimoire's last words being a request for Lucrecia to apologize to Vincent on his behalf, and Vincent being unaware of the circumstances of his father's death until finding his file open on Lucrecia's computer. (I've seen it argued that Vincent may not even have been aware that his father was dead until that point—I don't generally subscribe to that idea, but this may actually be the case.)

Secondly, although this is more up for interpretation, Vincent's feeling toward his father appear to be somewhat...harsh? I reach this conclusion based on the word he uses to refer to him in the original Japanese, which is 親父 (oyaji). While this is a term for "father," it's also colloquially used as equivalent to "old man," and is kind of a catch-all term for middle-aged men in general. It's pretty rough in comparison to other terms that could have been used here, and also seems fairly out of place for how Vincent speaks otherwise, making it seem to me that he uses this harsher term in order to indicate either a lack of formality or a lack of respect for his father.

In headcanon territory, my take on their relationship has always been that Grimoire is extremely disappointed in Vincent for failing to pursue a career in academia, opting instead for the Turks—a role in which he excelled to such a degree that the Turk Vincent sim battle in Dirge PlayOnline indicates the assessment and training records he set were still standing when the Crisis took place. We know that Vincent is intelligent and highly educated (there is a complex series of interconnected equations scrawled on the wall of the Shinra Manor basement in Rebirth that was canonically written by Vincent, he's obviously very smart), so he could certainly have pursued the same career path as his father, and for whatever reason he chose not to.

One thing that isn't up in the air is whether or not Grimoire loved his son. Vincent was the last thing on his mind, as Chaos ate away at his body and ripped him apart into pyreflies, the last thing that mattered was that Vincent know he was sorry. Grimoire loved Vincent, even if they didn't always get along.

But Grimoire was, unfortunately, a Shinra scientist. According to Dirge PlayOnline, Grimoire was the first Shinra scientist to theorize about using foreign energies and excavated materials in the creation of an otherwise human child, with the goal of creating a hybrid able to communicate with humankind with ease. Grimoire loved his son, but he was comfortable with the idea of turning someone else's into a monster in utero if it meant that science could progress. This hypothesis is probably one of the leading reasons that Lucrecia volunteered for her role in Project S; she loved her mentor very much, and what better way to honor his memory than to prove at least one part of his theory right?

At the end of the day, it's the expansion of human knowledge that mattered to Grimoire. He would have been thrilled to know that he was right—proven with Sephiroth, with Vincent, and eventually with Nero. The three of them exist, even if only in part, because of Grimoire's thirst to understand the world beyond humanity, and all three of them changed the face of scientific progress. Sephiroth and Vincent's projects both helped to facilitate the creation of SOLDIER, while Nero literally proved the existence of a secondary plane of reality which had only ever been considered theoretical—if not simply written off as a myth—prior to his birth. That's amazing. That's wonderful.

The only problem Grimoire would have with any of it is that it was his child in the tank. Also unfortunate is that the other two were technically his grandchildren—Nero is pretty much undeniably made from genetic material harvested from Vincent, and my headcanon for why Vincent was assigned to Nibelheim at all is that Gast also wanted some way to honor the memory of the late Professor Grimoire Valentine, and selected Vincent to be the "sire" to the main subject of Project S. Vincent was never meant to know, and Lucrecia was never meant to care. It did not work out that way.

Grimoire would initially be horrified to realize what Lucrecia had done—and then fall right into complete understanding, because she did it to her own child too. She experimented on Vincent, yes, but it was in an attempt to save him! Who could blame her for using what she learned in her thesis? Two birds with one stone, salvation and enlightenment both from a single questionable act. He might disagree with her methods, with her disorganization and her lack of foresight, but he couldn't blame her.

He'd be devastated to know how his theories had ruined his child in every possible respect—but only because it was his child, not because of what was actually done. He'd grieve the loss of those grandchildren that neither he nor Vincent ever had a chance to know—but only because they were Vincent's children, torn away before he ever got to know they existed at all.

And, deep down, Grimoire would feel the slightest swell of pride that the only subjects that worked, the only ones that survived and excelled, the few that could literally call themselves gods even if only for a short period of time, were part of his bloodline.

It turns out that Valentines are amazing at anything they do, whether they choose to do anything or not. Vincent rejected science, and science took him anyway, because science is what Valentines do. It's what all of them do, and they do it better than anyone. How could he not be proud of that?

[noodyl-blasstal]

Cool, Calm, and Collegiate - Chapter 6

It's @blupjeansweek day 6, today's prompt is: Loss

You can read on Ao3 or below. Missed yesterday? Catch up here.

-

Barry tries not to hear Lup and Taako’s conversation, he’s glad the internet is finally up and running at the house, but he doesn’t want to invade her privacy by listening in. The only problem is that Taako’s talking loudly, and Lup’s talking loudly to be heard over him, and Barry’s walls are thin. He studiously tries to ignore it, but can’t help but be a little heartened when he hears that he was her competent knight in shining armour. He flees to the bathroom when Taako asks if they ‘boned down proper style.’ Nothing in him wants to hear Lup’s disgust at the prospect.

His mind’s too busy to dwell on that though, because Barry is suspicious. Deeply suspicious. The twins' teaching reviews haven’t been good, either from students or peer reviewers. He knows for a fact they’ve been dragged (after multiple ‘missed’ appointments) into Lucretia’s office on a few occasions to discuss complaints, student requests to move, and unmet session goals. He doesn’t like that they were the ones looking after Lup’s bag when it disappeared, nor that the only things missing were ‘just’ lesson plans and her room keys - which would be no use to anyone who didn’t know where she lived. Surely they’d take her wallet if it was just random and opportunistic? The theft of her research was, understandably, a touchy topic (he was already formulating ways to punish her old mentor, mostly via very specific questions asked at a conference in front of a large audience) so he didn’t want to bring it up with her yet. There was no need to add anything else to her plate. That said, going with her should help him figure out what had happened. If only he’d actually taken that Cleric class he might even have a deity to pepper with questions about it… nevermind though, he just needs to see whether anyone has visited the apartment. If they have, well, it will only serve to bolster his hypothesis.

Lup’s lounging on the sofa when he heads to the living room. She’s wearing a pair of his jeans with the legs rolled, the hair scarf she was using last night keeping them tight around her hips, and one of his old, faded college shirts tucked artfully into the waistline. She looks gorgeous, how could she not? But there’s a special thrill seeing her here, so comfortable in his house wearing his things, at ease, and happy. He wants that for her always, not an ill fitting wardrobe, but comfort and safety. It’s what he wants for all of his friends of course.

“Hey.” She says, smiling at him. “Sorry about ‘Ko, he was just worried. I hope we weren’t too loud.”

Barry nods sympathetically. “I don’t have siblings, but I can imagine it was scary to hear you got robbed. I would have been worried too, I mean, I was, but you know…” He tails off.

“He was glad to hear my knight in shining armour was around to look after me.” Lup winks at him and Barry can feel himself flushing red. “Thanks for looking after me, Bear.”

“Hey, it’s… uh, anyone would have.”

“They didn’t, though, did they?” Lup says, rolling artfully off the sofa and onto her feet. “You did.”

“Er. Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

“So, shall we go see if they managed to get in?” She smiles, but it’s tight, forced.

Barry nods, tries not to ruin the happy front she’s putting on by fussing. He’d hate for someone to break in here and go through his stuff, it must be awful not to know if that’s what she’s going to walk into. “After you.”

–

“You really should be more careful with your things.” The woman behind the accommodation desk slides her glasses down her nose so she can glare at Lup harder.

Lup’s mouth twitches.

“She got robbed.” Barry says quickly.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Mr…”

“Dr, Halwinter.” Barry says. He hates using titles, but if she’s going to be awful then so can he. Plus, as much as he hates to admit it, sometimes it gets you further.

“Oh… well, er…” She sits up slightly.

“Dr Tacco here was robbed last night and is obviously very distressed about the occurrence, so if there is any way that you could speed up the process of getting her back into her room so she can survey it and see if anything else has been taken…”

“Fine.” The woman slowly levers herself out of her seat, glaring at Barry now instead. Good. He’d rather have that than her making Lup feel any worse.

“I’m sorry.” He says as soon as she’s gone. “I didn’t mean to jump in, I know you’re capable, but I also thought you’d probably be concentrating on trying not to…”

“... fireball her ass.” Lup finishes. “You do listen to me, I’m touched.”

Barry chuckles, then quickly rearranges his face back to stern disappointment when the woman rounds the corner again. “Here.” She slides a master key across the desk, far too fast to be done with anything but the hope they drop it.

Lup snatches it up. “Thank you for being so kind and helpful during such a difficult time.” She says sweetly.

Barry can’t help but snort out a laugh as the woman looks ready to combust.

The world’s slowest lift only seems slower as they inch up. “We should have taken the stairs.” Lup says, pacing, agitated.

“Potatoes are the best vegetable.” Barry says in reply.

Lup stops pacing. “What?”

“They’re nutritious, full of vitamins, they make chips. You don’t need anything else.” Barry shrugs as if it’s obvious.

“I know what you’re doing.” She narrows her eyes at him.

“Okay, well if you agree.” Barry smiles as innocently as he can manage. (Not very, Lup sees straight through him.)

“But there’s so little flavour! What’s going to make all your soups and stews taste nice if you’re just out there housing potatoes?”

His dedication to the humble potato carries them through to Lup’s floor.

“Thank you.” She says as she slides the spare key into the lock. “Even if you do like potatoes more than anyone should.”

“They’re perfect and I stand by it.”

You’re perfect.” He thinks she mutters as she opens the door and steps inside. He can’t be sure though. Maybe he’s mistaken.

He follows her inside and waits patiently while Lup inspects.

“Someone’s been here.” She says, simply.

“I’m sorry Lup.”

“My marking is in a different order and my student reports have moved.”

“Ah.”

“I’m going to have to report this to Lucretia. Whoever it was might have gotten personal information. It was just the worksheets, but sometimes they put stuff on there, you know.” Her voice shakes very slightly.

Barry nods stiffly. “Do you want me to wait here while you go in case they come back?”

“I guess they’ve taken everything they wanted to. At least my laptop’s still here.” She nudges a pile of clothes beside the bed and a laptop slides out from underneath.

“Smart.” Barry admires the ingenuity.

“Er… yeah, sure. Planned… But no, I don’t want to take up any more of your time, Barry. You go, I’ll let you know what’s going on later.” She tries to smile reassuringly and fails.

Barry waivers. He wants to scoop her up and fix everything, but knows that isn’t the answer. “Sure. Message any time, I’ll be on standby with coffee or, you know, rum. Whatever works best.”

“Maybe both.” Lup grins.

“Aye aye, Cap’n!” Barry salutes her and moves towards the door. “Seriously though Lup, if you need me, I’m here.”

“I know, Bear, you’ve shown me that.” Lup says quietly.

Barry lingers a second longer, then lets himself out. She’ll be fine. But who won’t be fine, is the fucking twins. He can’t go straight to Lucretia, Lup will be there soon, so he detours to his office to check the course admin folder for any new requests.

There’s four.

All of them from, surprise surprise, Lydia and Edward.

They want resources for their courses, for ‘new ideas.’ New ideas they had overnight.

Barry asks them in for a meeting.

–

“Could you tell me a bit more about why you’d like the golf balls?”

“To teach the children.” Lydia says and rolls her eyes as if Barry’s being ridiculous.

It’d be charming if Lup did it. There’d be no malice behind it if Lup did it.

“Of course, but which lesson is this for?”

“Tomorrow’s.” Edward says. “That’s why it’s an urgent request.”

“Okay, and tomorrow you’re teaching…?” Barry prompts.

“The lesson we need the golf balls for.” Lydia replies quickly.

“Sure. Okay. Well, fill out the form and pass that on to The Director. You’ll need a health and safety officer, depending on the planned usage.” Barry relaxes very slightly, he clearly doesn’t need to do anything but wait for them to fuck themselves over here… and hope they don’t injure any children in the process… he’ll warn lucretia.

“Do you make Lup do this every time?” Lydia adds.

“Come on now, sister dear, it’s obvious she’s getting some…” Edward raises his eyebrows suggestively. “...very special treatment. We don’t need to press the issue.” Edward laughs and begins to stand.

“Are you making an accusation of preferential treatment? I can give you the complaint form for that as well if you’d like.” Barry refuses to rise to the bait. It wouldn’t do to give them the satisfaction. “In fact, I’ll add it to the stack.” He sets the printer going, takes it calmly and adds it to their pile of forms, smiling as sweetly as he can manage the entire time. “Have a wonderful day now.”

They leave quickly, scooping the forms on the way.

Barry pulls up the academic misconduct form and begins typing.

–

“Madame Director…” Barry knocks on her door.

“Come in Barry, I thought I’d probably be seeing you today.” Lucretia says.

He stands nervously in the threshold. There’s no need for him to feel like he’s going to be in trouble, but the anxiety is in his bones.

“Take a seat.” Lucretia gestures to the spare chair. “And tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“What do you…?” Barry tails off.

“Cut the shit, Barry. I may be the director, but I see things, I know things. Lup comes in to tell me that someone stole her stuff and rifled through her room but only took lesson plans and student details and now suddenly there’s a barrage of forms from Lydia and Edward? I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Barry sits back, at least it’s not going to be as much of an uphill battle as anticipated. “I think they stole her notes and then her keys and went through her room.”

“That seems most likely.” Lucretia nods.

“So what do we…” Barry asks.

“We do nothing.” Lucretia says. “You, go and check in on Dr Tacco, I believe she’s rewriting at least 10 lessons worth of notes while also worrying that I’m going to fire her for data protection breaches. Obviously I’ve reassured her and printed off the information we had on the system for her so she’s not completely starting from scratch.”

Barry’s relieved to hear that Lucretia has reassured Lup.

Lucretia continues. “That said, we all know what happened, but right now we can’t prove anything. However, despite the fact those two seem to thrive on nothing more than other people’s misery, there’s not much they’ll be able to do in their necromancy class with notes on Lup’s magic science. They’re too lazy to consider that.” She smiles, a thin, firm smile, then asks. “Have you started the academic misconduct form?”

“Yes.”

“Good. It does well to be prepared. We don’t take kindly to theft.”

–

Barry knocks on Lup’s door, not sure if his presence is going to be a help or a hindrance.

“Who is it?”

“Barry, I just came to see if I could help.”

“Come in, it’s open.”

Lup’s on the floor surrounded by paper, she doesn’t look up.

“How’s it going?” Barry asks, slowly lowering himself to the floor as well. His knees crack on the way down, but she’s worth it.

“Uh…” Lup looks up for the first time since he walked in. “Not great, but it’ll be fine.”

“Can I help?”

“Maybe… Uh…” Lup mixes the papers round. Then scatters them again. “I keep trying to find things and it’s…” She gestures at the papers and rubs her eyes with her fists.

“Okay, would it be useful for me to do some organising? You know I love figuring out a system…” Barry smiles at her, hopes it’s reassuring.

“Yeah… yes. That would actually be… thanks Barry.”

“While I do that, I think you should grab something to eat and drink. Go to the Davy Lamp, the walk will do you good - clear your head.”

“I should…” Lup protests weakly.

“Hey, hey Lup.” Barry holds her shoulders. “You don’t need to do all of this today, just tomorrow’s. You already put your orders in for stuff, you already have the rough outline, and all of this came from here.” He taps her lightly on top of her head. “You’ve got this. But you need to look after yourself. I’m here to help, let me.”

“But…” Lup tries again.

“What would you say if it was me?” Barry asks quickly.

“What?” Lup scrunkles her brow in confusion.

“What would you say if I was in your shoes and you were in mine?”

“That’s not…”

“What would you say?”

“I’m not you.”

“But you deserve care and looking after and I bet there’s not a chance that you’d let me do this on my own, is there?”

“No.” Lup sounds defeated, but not upset about it.

“So you look after yourself and I’ll look after these papers, and between us, we’ll get this sorted.”

Lup unfolds her legs and stands easily. Barry vows to move off the floor before she gets back so she doesn’t see the creaking, wobbling, and joint popping that goes into getting him upright. Friends don’t need to know everything about each other.

“Thanks Bear.” She says quietly before she walks towards the door.

“Oh, Lup.”

She turns back.

“Is there any chance one of your sessions involved golf balls?” Barry asks nonchalantly.

“Oh gods… yeah, I’d forgotten about that. One of the ‘pie in the sky, wait, fuck, that’s terrifying, back to the drawing board’ ideas… they can’t all be winners! I thought we could do something using the golf balls to make powder by just spinning them round really really fast with other stuff using a control elements tornado or something, but yeah… even for me it was a bit out there.” She laughs to herself.

“Of course, of course.” Barry makes another mental note to email Lucretia, maybe she should attend that particular class with back up…

By the time Lup returns with two coffees and four pastries (‘necessary fuel’), Barry’s fairly proud of the organisation system he’s bodged together. He also made it off the floor without Lup having to see.

“Woah. It looks better!” Lup grins. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we’ll see how it works in practice, consider me your librarian for the day. I don’t have any meetings so I’m yours.”

“My personal sexy librarian? I’ve peaked!”

Barry laughs so hard he coughs. Yeah, Sexy Sildar the Librarian. That’s him. Ridiculous.

“Do you have the approved draft for tomorrow’s class, please?” Lup asks.

“Here you go.” Barry hands it over.

“You included the notes too?” Lup’s voice wobbles slightly.

“I just paired up the things that seemed to correspond.”

“Barry, I love you.” Lup looks up at him with watery eyes, but she’s smiling wider than he’s seen since they were singing.

He didn’t anticipate being told he was loved by someone (who wasn’t his Mum) because of his excellent organisational skills, but hearing it from Lup, even if she was emotional and tired and frustrated, hearing it from Lup was magic.

“I love you too, Lup.” He says it with all of the sincerity in his breath and bones.

There’s a moment, a brief moment, where he thinks about what would happen if he tried to kiss her no. Just leaned down and took her hand instead of handing her more notes, pulled her towards him, cupped her face in his hand, and leaned in… But now’s not the time. He doesn’t want to be the guy that misreads a situation. Even still, something bubbles between them, there’s a current of something, something electric and fizzing and he could reach out for it he thinks, but Lup doesn’t need that right now. There’ll be time later, time to tell her how he feels, ask if she feels it too. Right now, though, right now? There’s a lesson plan to write.

–

“Are you absolutely sure about the bees, sister dear?”

“It’s in the notes!” Lydia says, brandishing them at Edward. “Do you want to keep being mediocre, or do you want to excel?”

–

Dear ‘Ko,

Okay, so I know you saw it on the news, and I know you rang, and I know we talked about it and then talked about it again. But what a fucking day! Turns out they were too engrossed in cheating and being complete dickheads to actually consider what the fuck they were doing. They just took all my notes and picked at random - apparently they included the ones I discounted because they were unhinged.

Anyway, updates you didn’t have when we last spoke today: the bees are dispersed now, I think we got all the golf balls, and none of the kids are hurt. The clerics said it’ll take a while for Edward’s swelling to go down, and honestly, good. It’s what he deserves. Lucretia zone of truth-d Lydia after it all kicked off. It was brilliant.

Miss you, love you, see you soon,

Lup xxxxxxx

P.S. I think I might be in love with Barry???? Okay bye!

--

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Find the final chapter here.

[topazadine]

How to elevate your writing style with 6 simple hacks

Let's go through a few simple and easy tricks to make your writing masterful! No expensive writing courses - these are all so very free.

Read and write poetry

Use Microsoft Read Aloud

Develop your theory of mind

Be vaguer (within reason)

Listen to IRL conversations

Say less to do more

Read and write poetry

I often get complimented on my poetic writing style (no wonder my entire book series is about poetry magic). Here's what a professional editor said about the sixth book in the series, Poesy:

There's no real secret to how I have developed my style: the entire start of my journey, from about age 14 to age 26, was writing poetry. I read good novels and practiced my poetry in addition to getting my Brit Lit degree and all that stuff. (I have a chapbook out called The Lucretia Cycle, which is about my sexual assault at age 25. Trigger warning, obviously.)

Why is poetry so helpful for fiction writers? The word flow. Poetry is meant to be spoken aloud, so it needs to have a certain cadence.

As an aside, this is why I hate people who think you can just take a sentence and break it up however you want and call it poetry. No! They're different forms. You can use poetry to inform your fiction writing style, but it doesn't really work the other way around.

Anyway, practicing a lot of poetry helps develop your internal voice so that you can self-edit, improving your word flow and making for a smoother reading experience.

To write good poetry, just like with writing good fiction, you need to read good poetry first. Hunt up an anthology of celebrated writers, search "100 best poems of all time," stuff like that.

As a test for if a poem is good, read it aloud. If it makes no sense and sounds weird, then it's a bad poem.

Use Microsoft Read Aloud

This goes along with the abovementioned poetry: you want to develop a good word flow. Even if your readers aren't listening to an audiobook, most people have an internal voice that reads along with them, and they're going to get annoyed if your writing has a jangly, unpleasant flow. Of course, there are times when you do want a jangly, unpleasant flow, like when you're discussing something gross, but most of the time, you don't want that.

Hearing your work read aloud not only helps you catch typos, but it also lets you notice if you use the same word too many times; the Microsoft Read Aloud voice uses the same tone for the word every time so it'll be very apparent. You can also ensure that sentences flow smoothly with one another based on the practice you've done with poetry.

The other thing that Read Aloud helps with is punctuation, something that a lot of people struggle with. See, the way that we teach punctuation in school sucks because it doesn't point out that punctuation is basically stage directions for reading aloud; that's the whole reason it was invented. It helps group words together so that we understand how they are related and how we should verbalize them. Even if your punctuation isn't grammar-school perfect, it will make sense to readers if it helps them slow down at the right points.

My ultimate goal when revising is to put my headphones on, sit with some knitting, and not have to stop the Read Aloud for several pages. Once I've hit that point, I know I'm good to go.

Develop your Theory of Mind

Theory of Mind is the ability to understand that someone else may not have the same knowledge, experience, opinions, or beliefs that you do. It is a crucial skill for writers in a variety of ways; I'll detail a few of them now.

Being aware of audience. What enraptures us as a writer is not always what our readers will care about. This is why infodumping is annoying; it often is about the writer wanting to show off how smart they are and how much they have thought about their characters. Writing in an engaging way. Going along with this, good writers understand that their readers are likely not devoting their lives to any one book; they're able to recognize that their book is one of dozens or even hundreds that the reader will consume this year. As such, they push to make their book stand out by making it as intriguing as possible. My way of standing out is going all in on characterization, and including poetry, which is designed to be memorable. Considering a reader's blind spots. A great beta reader can help you with this, but if you have good ToM, you can rectify these errors yourself by remembering what you haven't told the reader yet - and what they need to know right this instant. It also ensures that you explain things in a way that makes sense to readers, such as remembering that not everyone knows the same pop culture references and may not be familiar with certain brands or objects. Understanding characters' perspectives. When my brother started reading my first book, 9 Years Yearning, one of the first things he said was something like "ugh Orrinir is SO down bad for Uileac!! Why can't Uileac see that!!" Well, because Uileac is a teenage boy who is also down bad for Orrinir but is terrified of pushing his closest friend away by confessing. Applying Theory of Mind allowed me to write a story where both characters are practically screaming their desire, but neither is willing to take the plunge. There's no forced miscommunication, just a very human reaction: accepting one pain (keeping one's feelings hidden) to avoid another, bigger pain (ruining a close friendship). Remembering what information only one character has. Especially crucial in mysteries and thrillers, but it applies to every book in some fashion. Your characters don't know what the other does unless they are a mind reader (unlikely), they are actually told the information direct from the source, or they sniff around and find it out.

Now, I know that some neurodivergencies have issues with Theory of Mind, but recent neuroscience demonstrates that there are actually a number of ways to improve your ToM.

If you have autism, schizophrenia, or other neurodivergencies, please don't think it's impossible for you to become a good writer; it's absolutely not.

Anyone can become a great writer if they work hard and practice. No matter your neurotype, no matter your background. I'd never gatekeep this beautiful art from anyone.

I've found some resources about improving theory of mind here and here, but there are many more out there. I'd also argue that dialectical behavioral therapy, targeted toward developing theory of mind, would be helpful too.

Be vaguer (within reason)

Keeping some mystery in your works is important for a few reasons.

Invites further reflection. When everything is spelled out for your readers, there's little room for them to come up with their own theories and perspectives on your writing. Gives readers autonomy. Readers like to take ownership of a world - that's why we have the entire genre of fanfic. Leaving some things open for interpretation helps them feel like they are part of the experience rather than a passive viewer. Helps your writing pass the sniff test. This is especially important for scifi or fantasy, but it matters in other genres too. Getting too specific gives readers a chance to go "well acktuahlly" if they happen to be more well-versed in a topic than you are. Blatant misinformation breaks their immersion. Avoids infodumps. Readers' eyes will glaze over if you throw too much information at them. Let them think. Sprinkling a few tidbits in here and there, then making the reader connect the dots, is far more enjoyable than a wall of irrelevant details.

The funny thing is that what I remember from texts is always the small and charming details rather than the big important plot points and explanations of the world mechanics. For example, it has been literally 20 years since I picked up a Redwall book, but I remember the sumptuous discussions of the feasts, with all the yummy cheeses and so on. I remember the discussions of the tapestries and the abbey's tall ceilings. Those are the memorable details, not the exact plot points.

What can you be vague about? Well, it really depends on what type of book you have - there's no one-size-fits-all rule. Make a hierarchy of things that are most important for readers to understand, and let everything else be background info.

In general, though, avoid specific measurements. Time, distance, weight, height, and so on, unless they are absolutely critical to the plot for some reason (unlikely). If you're wrong, readers will be very annoyed.

Listen to IRL conversations

I have a more in-depth guide to dialogue planned, so I'll leave this pretty short.

One of my favorite ways to improve dialogue is to watch interrogation videos. You have access to hours of unscripted conversations from a variety of people in all sorts of situations.

But, at the same time, you are not trying to figure out what to say in response to anything because you've not having a conversation. It can be challenging to notice verbal tics when you're working to digest and respond to someone else.

Another popular method is to just plop yourself down at a cafe, or bus, or whatever else, and quietly listen to others without seeming weird.

The important thing about both of these is to choose something where you are passively listening to someone speak without needing to contribute anything.

Do not rely on movies, or other books, or podcasts, or whatever, to build your dialogue skills. These are edited down and agonized over; they are not going to teach you how to sound natural. You need real-life examples.

Say less to do more

Good writing can do a lot of work without extra fluff because the writer is targeting multiple things at once. Excellent authors can build foreshadowing, demonstrate personality, worldbuild, and infuse themes just by having a character walk across a room, moving the plot forward without separating every single thing into its own point.

Sentences can be pretty short, less than two lines, and still powerful. For example, I'm proud of this part from my upcoming book, Pride Before a Fall.

As if a world-fever had broken: Orrinir woke feeling sluggish, mind full of marbles that rolled every time he moved. His first thought was of Uileac lain beside him, eyes closed and hair stiff with sweat. A bath would be in order, but later. Assuming the cavalryman even let him.

Clearly Orrinir had a rough night full of unexpected problems, and now he has a mental hangover. He's tired and has many disconnected thoughts rattling around in his head.

From the "world-fever" part and the fact that Uileac is covered in sweat, we can sense that Uileac was sick but the danger has now passed.

Uileac and Orrinir clearly had some sort of argument, and now Orrinir's not sure whether his partner will accept his care. We also guess that Orrinir desperately wants to help his partner and is kind of obsessed with him but also scared of rejection. He seems a bit snippy and resentful, too.

Each of these sentences is less than two lines, but they all get a lot done very quickly.

Note also that while I use two unique phrases in the first line, the rest of it is pretty plain. The reader can enjoy the interesting metaphor in the first line, then get back to more straightforward discussions afterward. It's not a 24/7 purple prose fest.

This is a very hard skill to learn; even after over 15 years of writing regularly, I'm still working on it. However, you can get to that point by just revising over and over again.

Write your draft in as much detail as possible, unconcerned with if it's wordy or messy. Then, figure out how you can say the same thing more concisely without losing the meaning. Go back in and do this again, and again, until every single word has a reason to be there.

I've created a masterlist of writing resources that you can peruse at your leisure, all for free.

The posts I write can sometimes take me hours - they're always intricate, always thoughtful.

I do this as a labor of love for the writing community, sharing what I have learned from almost 15 years of creative writing.

However, if you'd like to support me, maybe you'll consider buying my book?

At $0.99, that's about 7 cents for each minute you spent reading this post.

9 Years Yearning is a gay coming-of-age romance set in a fantasy world. It follows Uileac Korviridi, a young soldier training at the War Academy. His primary motivations are honoring the memory of his late parents, protecting his little sister Cerie, and becoming a top-notch soldier.

However, there's a problem: Orrinir Relickim, a rough and tough fellow pupil who just can't seem to leave Uileac alone.

The book features poetry, descriptions of a beautiful country inspired by Mongolia, and a whole lot of tsundere vibes.

You can also check it out on Goodreads for a list of expanded distribution. If you loved it, be sure to preorder Pride Before a Fall, arriving January 1, 2025!

If you do purchase my book, don't forget to leave a review!

Reviews are vital for visibility on Amazon and help to support indie authors like me. Whenever you love a book, be sure to let the author know! It's much appreciated.

[fandomsnstuff]

Consider: twosun didn't have snow. Anywhere. At all. They didn't even have a concept of it. They don't know what it is. Anyway, it's day 26 of @taznovembercelebration and im a canadian who tried to write people who've never seen snow before

Day 26: wonder

The IPRE crew is very happy that their plan worked and they've successfully hidden from the Hunger. What they didn't plan for, was how cold Faerun could get and the not-rain falling from the sky.

Read it on AO3

After they deploy the relics in what they hope to be the final cycle, the IPRE crew waits with bated breath for the Hunger. But the scouts never come. Days pass, then weeks, then months, and the sky never darkens unnaturally, revealing countless white eyes opening up to find them.

As those months pass, they find that the days shorten and the air cools. As people built for a world with two suns, this poses a bit of a problem. Sure, they spent certain cycles in colder and darker climates, but that doesn't mean they enjoyed it. One year just isn't enough time to adapt to that. So they make do. Sweaters and blankets are plentiful, and when the cold gets bad enough that the ship's heating system can't seem to break through it, they all pile up in the living room. Body heat is crucial for survival. Not to mention that Magnus is simply a furnace of a man.

He's the one who seems to be able to function the best. He has to wear a shirt (or a few), much to his chagrin, but he still gets up every morning and dutifully goes for a run.

One morning, he extracts himself from the pile of bodies on top of him, and everyone shuffles in to fill the space he left. He's barely gone for a few minutes when he comes back and excitedly says, “guys, get up! You gotta see this!”

There are some grumblings about having to leave the nice warm sleep pile to go to the cold outdoors, but they comply. When they get outside, though, the grumblings stop as they all stand in awed silence.

Davenport had landed the cloaked ship in a field just outside a nearby town. That town, the field, and everything else, is now coated in a thick layer of white… stuff. And small bits of it fall from the sky. Magnus runs out onto it, and it crunches under his feet, leaving footprints behind. He turns back to them and holds his arms out, “isn't it great?!”

“It's beautiful,” Lucretia says. The sun peeks through the soft grey clouds and it sparkles. She breathes out, “woah.”

Lup steps out into it and holds out her hand. Some of the little bits land on her hand, and stay there a moment before melting away. She crouches and scoops some up off the ground, crushing it in her hand. Some falls back to the ground and some melts away. She wipes her hand off on her pants. “It's like the cold sand from, what was it? 45?”

“42,” Lucretia says, “but I don't remember it falling from the sky. Or melting.” She holds her hand out too, and watches the bits melt. “It's water.”

“So it's raining ice,” Taako pulls his obscene amount of blankets tighter around himself, “peachy.”

“I don't think it's ice,” Barry says, “this isn't one solid piece.” He examines the bits that have collected on the sleeve of his sweater, “it's like it's crystallised.”

“Maybe I can go into town and talk to someone,” Magnus says, “they'll probably know what's up with this. Maybe we can get some better gear, because I don't know about you guys, but my shoes and socks got wet the moment I stepped out here.”

“I'll go with you,” Lucretia says, “just give me two minutes to put real clothes on.”

Not long after, they're crossing the field together.

“You weren't kidding about the wet shoes,” she says.

“I even changed my socks while you were getting dressed and put on different shoes, and my feet are still wet.”

“Well Taako promised us soup when we got back, so I think that'll keep me–” she cuts herself off with a yelp as her feet hit harder ground and fly out from under her. Magnus catches her before she cracks her head open on the cobblestone. “Now that,” she says, getting back on her feet, “is ice.”

“No kidding,” Magnus links her arm in his and they make their way (carefully) into the streets, “the last thing we want to do is lose you when we've only just begun the rest of our lives.”

She squeezes his arm. “We won't be perpetually in our early 20s anymore.”

“I'll finally be able to fully develop my frontal cortex.”

All through town, there are children playing in the cold snow, and people walking briskly down the street. Lucretia and Magnus are wearing the most layers out of anyone. Lucretia spots a café on the opposite side of the street. “Let's go in there,” she says, nodding in its direction, “the air out here is making my face hurt.”

They cross the street as quickly as they dare, and sigh with relief as the warmth of the indoors and the smell of fresh baked goods hits them. They walk up to the counter, where a young woman is placing a tray of croissants into the display.

“Awfully cold out there,” Magnus says, turning on his rustic charm.

The woman looks up at them, amused. “Newcomers?”

“You could say that.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Trust me, if you think this is cold, you haven't seen anything yet.”

Both of their faces drop. “It gets worse?” Lucretia asks.

“Oh, yeah.” She gestures to the window, “you actually can't get snow if it's too cold. That's when you get freezing rain and everything's covered in a layer of ice.”

They both just stare at her, dumbfounded. Their home plane had nothing like this. It didn't get this cold, and it certainly didn't have “snow” and rain that covered everything in ice. The young woman smiles pleasantly, “so what can I get you?”

They glance at each other. Magnus says, “directions to somewhere warmer, maybe?”

[jerreeeeeee]

*"understanding" meaning they know they disagree but also understand the other can't be stopped/thinks they're doing the right thing, whether that manifests as avoiding the topic altogether when they meet, or just weary acceptance and frank conversation; and "antagonistic" meaning at least one of them is actively trying to interfere/stop the other/convince the other to stop, in the interaction itself

i see a lot of different interpretations of barry & lucretia's relationship after the voidfish and i've gone back and forth over what i think so i wanted to see what the general consensus is

my thoughts under the cut

i can't imagine barry realizes what's happened and doesn't try to 'reason with' lucretia for a little while, before eventually somewhat accepting that she won't listen to him, because after a certain amount of time, it just gets exhausting to hope he can still sway her. like i don't think he gives up, he still tries sometimes, because he has to, that's his whole life at this point, hoping and trying and not giving up in the face of isolation and despair and impossible odds, but he knows he has to pick his battles. and sometimes they catch each other on bad days and he’s just really fucking glad to see her and really fucking disappointed in her and really fucking tired, unable to muster the conviction or energy to fight with her.

and lucretia doesn't do much trying to convince barry, because she knows she couldn't get him on board with her shield beforehand, and he definitely doesn't approve of what she did to taako and himself, not to mention davenport (if he even knows about davenport, cause that’s gotta be really distressing for him, right? do you think barry ever tries to kidnap davenport).

i think after that initial period, and certainly after the BOB is created, they're both afraid of what the other is up to, afraid the other will disrupt their own plans, and try to avoid the other detecting them altogether. but, they're also both incredibly lonely and know the other is the only person in the world who understands what's at stake and the burdens they're both carrying, so even though they don't seek each other out often, they both want to, and maybe sometimes do. a conversation after lucretia gets out of wonderland is especially compelling.

i don't think they interact between here there be gerblins and reunion tour, though, mostly because i think lucretia just doesn't really leave the moonbase now that the bureau has some wins and is getting closer to its goal, and as soon as she knows barry's messing with the boys, she's too paranoid at whatever barry's plans are that are completely unknown to her and wants to avoid him in case he's come up with a way to really stop her. and barry is equally paranoid about her discovering his information gathering and keeping him from his plans to infiltrate the moon base, so he doesn't want to show back up on her radar. i don't think lucretia confronted barry when he possessed pringles, because barry still puts the instructions on his coin for the old puzzle, but if he'd been caught, i think he would've anticipated it changing, so i think she discovered it after the fact.

i don't know if i even think they've spoken since lucretia created the bureau, because that's when they start to become, like, "enemies," officially, as lucretia genuinely starts to villainize barry, however reluctantly. although, depending on how much contact they'd had before that, depending on if she's aware of him out in the world working against her or if from her pov he just sorta disappeared somewhere mysterious, maybe she's not even really thinking of barry as 'the red robe,' and more thinking of herself. because she does tell thb originally that the red robes are all dead and gone, and if she'd truly anticipated them coming into contact with barry, wouldn't she have said, there's still one out there, he's dangerous, don't talk to him, etc, like she does later? maybe the red robes story was originally just an easy way to explain away why the relics existed, and privately, to hate herself for her role in it. maybe she doesn't even realize she's villainized her old friend until that consequence makes itself clear by accident, and then there's nothing for her to do but lean into it and turn the remnants of their family against him for real.

[anistarrose]

Chapters: 1/8 Relationships: Barry Bluejeans & Johann the Bard (The Adventure Zone), The Director | Lucretia & Johann the Bard, Johann the Bard & Everyone (The Adventure Zone) Summary: Barry needs to possess a body for an infiltration mission on the Bureau. Johann doesn't black out when he's supposed to. For both of them, this has ramifications.

Johann’s body stands up a little straighter. It dusts off its silly little bard vest with a few pats, and starts walking purposefully back towards the elevator. Opposite the direction of the cafeteria.

Of… any possible witnesses.

What the fuck? Johann thinks — and immediately, his body makes the slightest, subtlest stumble. Catching itself right away — only noticeable from within.

“Aw, shit.” The voice echoes in Johann’s head — louder than his own thoughts, like the day’s worst earworm yet. “You weren’t supposed to, uh — you shouldn’t have — hey, let me say this! I really shouldn’t have your voice stuck in my head right now, bud!”

“Hey? Hey?!” For just one fleeting moment, Johann feels far too flabbergasted to be afraid. “Hey, I shouldn’t have a voice in my head?! Me?! I’m the one who shouldn’t?!”

(read on ao3!)