#most of them are things i was prevented from doing either by being roadblocked or by shit beyond my control

[naamahdarling]

.

[mysaldate]

AFK Journey review by a beta tester

AFK Journey came out yesterday and I see it getting quite a lot of attention so I figured I'd at least put this out there so that people don't go into it expecting something it's not.

I have been in the testing of this game and continued to provide feedback all the way from the alpha test back in the fall of 2021 and through all the beta testing that started in April or May last year. I have also been aiding in making lore-focused streams about AFK Arena for over a year and seeing as AFK Journey is supposed to be set in the same world, this will be relevant later. I have also been contracted to make officially-backed videos about AFK journey – a deal I left for a number of reasons, not least of all the reasons I have for writing this post. Now with credentials out of the way, let's get to the actual review.

The visuals take your breath away

Let's start with something positive – this game is gorgeous. Farlight Studios have outdone themselves yet again and after the vibrant and futuristic world of Dislyte, their take on Esperia is surprisingly tame, in a good way. The colors are soft and lovely, the models look amazing, and the customization screen of the main character is awesome! The characters look great and move in a smooth fluid fashion. Ult animations, idle animations, and the overall feel of the characters as well as the skins added into the game thus far are all nice and fit into the wider world well, not to mention look wonderful and clean, a lot of effort and skill went into making them. Sadly, if we ignore the skins and ult animations, this has been the case since the alpha without any major changes.

Gameplay could be improved upon

I will be up-front about this, I don't care about gameplay all that much. However, I have to say, the game is not open-world, despite claiming to be so. If you venture off the paths, you get stuck on fences, stuck on bushes, stuck on rocks, or just prevented by an invisible wall. There is no swimming, no climbing, no gliding, or most other things we came to associate with open-world games. The vertical gameplay is a plus to be sure and you get to pick characters to follow you around without having to use them in battles which makes the exploration more fun. The overworld puzzles are creative and fun too! The real issue comes with... everything else. At the start, fights in the overworld are easy. However, they will scale up way faster than you can level and you will soon be adding an additional roadblock to the list: enemies. The combat itself is creative but requires attention as the autoplay function is usually wonky at best and outright damaging to your party at worst. AFK Journey is not living up to its AFK title either. One thing I found really annoying was the story progression not being tied to the AFK rewards. You have to grind a separate set of battles to increase the AFK rewards you receive. The AFK rewards and story also still cap each other so you won't be able to progress in one without progressing in the other.

Outside of the main story, the game offers multiple game modes. If you don't enjoy PvP, be warned that the game puts great emphasis on doing your PvP arena every day and being good at it if you want to build any good characters. The game also has a labyrinth mode which tracks your health across multiple battles and allows you to gain upgrades as you go. This mode is somewhere between AFK Arena's and Dislyte's in terms of fun. It is more varied than AFK Arena's which makes it more fun and less repetitive, however, you have a limited number of characters you can bring in which severely limits how varied your gameplay experience might be. It was also recently nerfed to the ground and now poses little to no challenge. Honor Duel is another PvP mode in which you buy upgrades and then fight randomly generated players with supposedly the same level of upgrades as you. If you can claim eight victories before three losses, you win the run. However, the factions and characters are currently so imbalanced that depending on your luck, you may not win a single battle in a run or you might breeze through all of them without any effort.

The gacha element is pretty much non-existent. If you scrounge up enough resources to pull, you likely won't get anything much. You'll be relying on hand-outs of pulls and PvP shops to build your characters. AFK Journey should not be called a gacha game. It is, at best, a game with rare gacha elements.

Co-op is a lie

While AFK Journey does have a cooperative mode, in the form of connected guild dungeons, it is not really what it advertises to be either. All your guildmates can separately whale on some enemies together and depending on how you do, you will receive rewards that are generous compared to what the rest of the game offers. You can lend your friends your characters but they'll be the ones fighting with them, not you. The most social aspect of the game is seeing other players around the map and spending your friend points to buy different animations to perform at each other. The chat function is also pretty bad, though not as terrible as it is in AFK Arena.

The guilds and friends to add also don't work cross-server. So if you have a friend on another server, you won't be able to see them or talk to them or enjoy even the limited interactions that are actually in the game.

The story is disappointing at best and nobody knows the world

You may have noticed I've been avoiding talking about the story of a story-focused game. This is where the biggest disappointment lies. Let me preface this by saying, the story didn't always use to be this way. It used to be actually really really good back in the alpha and even at the start of the beta. However, in the last three months, the game underwent five or six complete rewrites of the main story, each worse than the last. As things stand right now, there is no nuance in protagonists or villains, there is a literal diarrhea conversation (like an actual conversation, several scenes long) for no reason, most of the story could be summarized on one page and the rest is pointless bickering that makes every other character utterly unlikable. The main character is an amnesiac going by the title of "Magister Merlin" despite the fact that Merlin from Arthurian myths, whom this is clearly based on, is an existing character in the world of Esperia.

In terms of lore, AFK Journey is not even close to what it promised. It promised to be a game set in the world of AFK Arena – a world with surprisingly rich and interesting lore that has been built up over the years. Unfortunately, it is very much not that. Not only are important world events treated as nonexistent, not only does the writing erase character relationships and dynamics, but the writers couldn't have even been bothered to learn the basics of the world they're working with. Factions get swapped around randomly for no reason, and important factional politics have been flipped on their heads. An organization that is supposed to be an outcast is now the ruling class, the timeline is all over the place, and even the names of things are not only inconsistent with AFK Arena but also inconsistent with Journey's world itself. The loading screen already breaks the world by telling you magic didn't exist until the "Fall of the gods" which is supposed to have happened recently, yet the entire time you will be running around ruins of magical civilizations from ages long past.

Speaking of the gods, there are characters who straight-up don't know what a celestial is. If you know anything about Esperia's lore, you know how important religion is to its history and how jealously the gods guard their authority. The thought of someone having completely no idea of what they were is strange, to say the least. The game also invents new gods instead of using preexisting ones with the same function and even disregards events relating to the gods that changed the course of Esperian history – such as the death of Esperia's primary goddess Dura. In fact, AFK Journey doesn't even consider Dura important enough to have a model. Once again, this is the primary goddess of this world. As for the characters brought over from AFK Arena, they have been butchered beyond recognition. The warlord of an entire country who slew countless enemies is now a pacifist whose only interest lies in spicy food, a hard-working girl who, for the sake of her family, developed her skills until she was recognized by the stars and became the fulfillment of a prophecy is now an angry Mary-sue who was always perfect and didn't actually need to work for anything – and gets offended if you suggest otherwise, the list goes on.

The sound design is refreshingly good – for the most part

As a game with voices, we have to talk about those first. The voices, for the most part, are alright. None of them really stands out as particularly amazing, though I do like a few of them more than the others. I like Fay's voice quite a bit. Sadly, none of the characters from AFK Arena is voiced by the same person anymore, and in most cases, it is a massive downgrade. And that isn't talking about the worst offender of all – Valen, one of the main characters you'll have to listen to the whole time. Valen used to have a voice that fit his character – suave and kind of bold and full of life. Now he sounds like he's still going through puberty, and he's a whiny crybaby at that.

The sound design outside of the voice acting is great. Once again, this is a very strong point for the game. The music and background noises are great and even the menu sounds are not disruptive in the least. If anything, they feel natural to the world.

PC client could as well not exist at all

This is coming from second-hand knowledge as I have played AFK Journey on phone but so far the reviews I've seen appear to be as follows: Game lags when walking, freezes when trying to talk to NPCs, and is prone to crashing. Mobile devices perform better for AFK Journey than PCs do.

The mystery of translation

Back in January, the only publicly admitted localizer has been fired from the project. About a week and a half ago (around 10 days before the game's launch), the official Discord posted an application form looking for translators for the game. Apparently, the game has several translations already out at this moment, but none of them particularly good. Some are even so bad it's sort of funny. In a really... pathetic sad way. It probably doesn't help that they're still looking for translators as we speak.

In conclusion...

I wish I could recommend AFK Journey, I really do. I've been excited about this game ever since its announcement and I've been providing as much feedback as I could throughout both alpha and beta. The organization has been awful and the game suffers for it. Internal changes happened a few months back and since then, everything about the game just fell apart. Even things that were good before got ruined and now all that remains is pretty visuals and nice music with nothing else worth paying attention to. It is a major letdown when it could've been incredible. The game is nothing it was advertised as – it is not an open-world game, it is not a gacha, and it is most certainly not set in the world of AFK Arena.

I hope the people who decide to play it can still find some fun in it regardless.

[furryprovocateur]

well, that went almost perfectly. kinda sad that it's an 8 turn and not a 7 turn, but i'll get into that later. gonna readmore this post because there's a lot to go over despite it being such a short chapter.

19xx as a chapter is very easy when you know what to expect. sure, it's a fog of war, but it's not really that scary. it's pretty sparse on enemies and the most annoying thing about it is the two troubadours. one of them will bar the lower path with their pathetic limp body (if you have any magic users/healers with you, they can use silence and be annoying (but usually they're dead before that even happens)). the other one can be far more detrimental to your progress however, because she has a sleep staff and it's basically unpreventable that she's going to use it in the first turn. your only real recourse is hoping she misses (which isn't the most unlikely thing, averages to about a coinflip most of the time). if she lands with sleep, you basically have to restart, because no restore staff means you're down a unit for basically half the time you're gonna be in the chapter. it didn't happen often, thankfully, but it was slightly annoying in my attempts when it would land and basically hardwall a strat i was trying.

the thieves in this chapter are a fucking menace, honestly. most of them have 20 speed and WILL steal anything they can from you. killing them is also a nuisance and you do surprisingly have to account for their retaliation. they don't do a lot of damage, but doubling for like 3 damage is something you have to account for considering they usually don't miss, even with WTD. the worst of them is the one that goes for the dracoshield + eclipse becuase even though he does have lower speed and can be stolen from, i don't really like bothering with that because you get married to a longer run of the chapter if you try to steal back the dracoshield from him, and if you don't, he'll steal eclipse after the dracoshield and make it the only drop he gives. eclipse is worth a lot of money, sure, but it's far shittier than a dracoshield to me. so, the main challenge of this chapter was getting the lower right area illuminated so sain could keep killing all the roadblocks in his way and prevent the thief from grabbing it. it sounds easy on paper, but it means getting someone to torch as closely as possible to that area, which proved to be difficult.

so, what i ended up doing was fielding florina and fiora (despite the fact that there's a ballista here, he literally never once went after either of them in both the casual and ranked runs. almost wonder if it's a bug in the AI because fiora surely can't take a good hit from that), sain (who i promoted in both runs. he promoted at level 19.62, which is totally fine to me. only reason i didn't promoted him sooner was to milk as much experience out of him as possible considering how much i was going to use him.), kent (debated fielding him because he's getting a smidge overleveled but lowen's almost too far behind at this point to be genuinely useful and cavs are lifesavers.), matthew (obviously), raven (no real reason to deploy him beyond wanting to get him some experience. he did decently well with the lancereaver tbf.), and marcus (matthew gets 2HKO'd by basically everything here and really wanted more movement + marcus with a hammer was a good idea to me (though it didn't pan out unfortunately)). you might notice there's no healer here and that's very intentional; we're trying to rush this shit as fast as possible and healers aren't necessary when there's this few enemies spread across all these units. it's also worth mentioning i did try fielding at separate points canas (again he has WTA and doubles the knights but i couldn't get good work out of him compared to marcus or kent), bartre (really wanted an excuse to use him as well), and rebecca (that ballista is just BEGGING to be used), but none of them were helping hard enough. oh well.

so ultimately what i ended up doing was making florina + fiora the aggressive frontliners because very few things were actually scary to them (the knights near the enemy ballista being the only thing noteworthy). fiora's at the same level as florina and while she's obviously slightly worse, she is still doing a pretty noteworthy job. i think i forgot to mention it last update but i did burn an angelic robe on her just because +7 HP makes her so much more useful and durable. it's paying off already because she's doing good work after minimal investment. her and raven both got two levels this chapter, one mediocre and one great, which averages out, so i'm happy.

the one part where fiora DID fail however is a critical juncture and makes me sad. teodor is not a hard boss if you kill him quickly because eclipse weighs him down oh-so hard and will make him a no counter chump. the only real problem is that there are hidden wyvern knights in his room that can be scary if you're unprepared for them. we're going to be entering the part of the game where WK reinforcements become the scariest thing on the field at any given time, starting at kinship's bond going forward. but anyways back to my main point: teodor sucks. he is very bad. kill him before he can either counterattack or burn eclipse fully because he then becomes a lot scarier. nosferatu still weighs him down, but much less + it'll heal him on top of the throne bonus. and while his stats are very bad for a level 17 druid, he's very scary to fight in the way that uhai was last chapter. even bad promoted units are still doing things. so, my plan was to kill him all in one turn. sain and fiora were the only units nearby. i weakened with sain such that fiora had an easy kill ahead of her. it was like a 75% chance to hit. and lo and behold, tragedy strikes and she misses. so now i have to give hector the kill and thus miss my chance to seize on turn 7, feeling very bitter and annoyed about an otherwise perfect chapter run getting ruined. as i said earlier, this is the second time i've lost a turn just from a boss killing blow missing, and it's a very bad feeling. i would've killed with sain, but he was only killing with the iron lance, and the hit rate with iron lance vs. iron sword (which wasn't killing) was too iffy for me. i hedged my bets correctly and still lost. such is life.

next up is dragon's gate. there's a lot to do here and if i have my way, i'm going to be walking away with at least 3 physic staves, but that's obviously going to be very hard to engineer. hopefully i can manage it, because physic staves are going to be literal lifesavers.

[oro-junestar]

how much more fucking time do i wanna waste on you

"I’m saying that lgb people have the right to freedom of association and political autonomy. Which cannot remain intact with forced grouping with the TQ+." why even cut out trans people in the first place? there is no possible reason that does not have transphobic ideology behind it. the struggles of LGB and TQ+ folk go hand in hand, and we've historically been unified in our struggles for our rights. Don't try to erase that. I wonder, what would you say to the many LGB who are supportive of TQ+?

"And honestly? If a group oppresses another group, that by definition makes them an enemy." There are many straight people who are supportive of us. Are they our enemies too? We're fighting for equality, not superiority. "But thanks for trying to transplain homophobia to me." i'm bi too but ok

"If you did research before running your ignorant ass mouth--" What about right here in the United fucking States where the Republicans are making it harder for us to live by denying our healthcare? What about countries that don't recognize trans people at all, that don't ban conversion therapy, or have heavy restrictions on our recognition? The very fact that surgery is required to legally recognize gender change at all is oppressive because it's a severe roadblock in the transition process, especially for those who can't get it because of financial or other reasons.

"completely disregarding safety and fairness regulations and preventing women from having their own sports leagues" no one is doing that. women's sports is fine. if you did research before running your ignorant ass mouth, you'd find that trans people perform on an equal level as their cisgender teammates and opponents and win and lose just like any other athlete. there aren't any men in women's sports, only cis and trans women. "Nothing is stopping you and other trans identified folk from creating your own sports category." people barely watch women's sports anyway, who would wanna watch trans sports?? funding a separate transgender sports league would unfortunately be a huge financial loss. there's no good reason to even create a separate league anyway, because trans people are doing perfectly fine in sports as they are now.

gender is an artificial concept. We are not assigned our biological sex either, it’s observed. you know gender has always been around and has always had a heavy influence in how society works, don't play dumb. gender has always been separate from sex; for example, why is femininity often attributed to wearing dresses and makeup? not because of any biological reason, that's for sure. and gender isn't observed between our legs, sex is. you need to be able to make the distinction between sex and gender or else you are just delusional.

"Science does not prove that humans can change their biological sex." again, sex is not gender, and sex is irrelevant in most social contexts. when you're talking to a person, you don't look inside their pants to determine whether to call them sir or ma'am, you generally make a guess based on how they present, what they're wearing, what their name is, things like that. "And it does not prove the innate existence of gender." gender is a WELL researched, highly accepted concept across all of health, psychology, and philosophy. gender has always been around us, don't act like you've never seen it before.

"Heterosexuals cannot identify their way into being homosexual" no one is doing that. trans people can be any orientation. if a trans woman likes women, she is a lesbian; if a trans man likes men, he is gay, etc. also nice fucking use of "trans dogma" again even though i've made it clear we are not a dogma, we are human beings.

"So is lgb autonomy and freedom of association" if your sole purpose is to exclude people that you're irrationally repelled by, then is it really "freedom" or is it just that you're an asshole? you have the freedom to say you hate trans people, but that doesn't free you from the consequences of being an asshole.

"You’re saying, essentially, that trans people are infallible angels who can do no wrong and are never homophobic?" nope, i'm saying that this just generally isn't a thing that happens. there might be a few crazies that do i guess, i've never heard of those kinds of people, but you're trying to paint this delusion that ALL of them will screech and call you a bigot if you don't want to date them. i think you're the one who needs to get real. and i never said trans people are "infallible angels", we are human and we make mistakes like any other. you assholes like to paint us all as perverted demons, which we also obviously aren't.

"how can someone misgender you if gender doesn’t even exist? Not everyone believes in gender and you shouldn’t force them to either." hey, question, do you get alot of moss growing under there? do the worms like to come and swing by sometimes? must be cozy living under that rock of yours. the concept of gender has been around for so long, in fact, trans people and nonbinary identities have existed for a long time too. we didn't have proper terminology to describe ourselves until recently because historically we were always labeled as degenerates and sinners, but the vague concept of third genders and gender change have always been around.

"This coming from people who insist on referring to women as uterus havers." nope, we don't do that. not all women have uteruses, and not all people who have uteruses are women. if we want to refer to women who aren't trans, we simply say cis women. if you don't like that label, then you're just an asshole. the Latin prefixes trans- and cis- are opposites; trans means 'on the other side of' and cis means 'on the same side of'. cisgender simply means not transgender, and that's that.

"Criticizing trans views and policies is not “hatred” or “dehumanization”. It’s called critical thought." if you seek to deprive our ability to coexist with our LGB allies, then what else do you seek to do to us? by your insistence on calling us a "dogma", it's clear that you do not see us as valid human beings. you think that we are somehow an ideology that's imposed on people by the government or something, but we're just people who have been around throughout human history and have been suppressed by your disgusting so-called "critical thought". don't try to dodge your vile hatred with petty wordplay; you are not a critical thinker, you are a reactionary dipshit who disagrees with actual science and philosophy and just wants to see us erased. you are no better than the homophobes you pretend to hate.

By cutting out the TQ+, you also cut out:

-Intersex people

-Two-spirit gays and other culturally connected gays

-Gender nonconforming people

-Those who are questioning their sexuality

-Gays, lesbians, and bi's who are supportive of trans people

-Millions of kind, loving, supportive humans who have gone through indescribable, traumatic abuse and wish to build a safe, welcoming community

Why are you so eager to exclude and belittle people? Why do you tell them they 'don't know what real struggle looks like' when their healthcare, their future, and their lives are under attack? Do you truly value 'love', or do you just want to swat away as many people as possible? Why do you continue to hide under a rock and dig yourself deeper into festering hatred, when you can simply come out and support people who can help you?

Wouldn't it be easier to unite with our trans and nonbinary friends to help defeat the growing threat of genuine fascism in our country? Those conservative Christian nationalists and white supremacists who tell you you're "one of the good ones" would gladly turn around and shoot you in a heartbeat, because when they say they're fighting the 'woke gender ideology', they'll mutter in the same breath that you gays are 'degenerates', 'sodomites', and 'animals'. Why would you side with the villains, who see you the same way they see us?

We cannot let oppression continue in any form. We will all be on the winning side of history as we step closer to ending the cycle of hatred and bullying. Open your hearts and minds and you'll find that the everyone around you is just as human as you, and are more similar to you than you'd think. Trans people are people, just like you, and we need your help and support just as much as you need ours.

Isn't it neat how people who are supportive of all LGBTQ+ identities are also kinder, more loving, more empathetic, and more caring towards their friends and loved ones? Just something to think about.

Love wins. Trans rights are human rights.

[gaycrouton]

Forgotten Inhibition

I’m editing my fanfic masterpost right now, and I just realized I never posted my first ever story to tumblr. I wrote this back in 2017, so blame all errors on past me haha.

drugged scully | 7k | smut

Interstate 84

Nowhere Oregon

9:42 p.m.

Mulder could sense Scully was not too happy about being dragged cross country for a case that ended with more questions than answers. They had been driving in their rented car for about three hours now, and, by her lack of bantering, she was either frustrated or tired.

They had been called out to help the Oregon State police solve a series of unrelated crimes, only connected through their intensity and motive. The incidents ranged from a man walking into his boss's office and destroying everything to a woman murdering her husband. While all cases varied, every guilty individual claimed that they always had always felt impulses to do the acts, but lost all self-control on the day the crime was committed. Those who were around the offenders said that they seemed to be relatively normal, but they were saying things that they would usually never say. As if they were injected with truth serum and that they developed a one track mind, for lack of a better analysis.

Scully felt that these were ultimately unrelated crimes done by people blaming a cosmic force for their own actions. But Mulder could not shake off the fact that all these people said the exact same thing, even though they had never met. The biggest roadblock to Mulder's theory was that he couldn't figure out how this disregard to inhibition happened to the individuals. They were varying in ages, towns, gender; there was nothing out of the ordinary or similar about the individuals daily routine on the day that the crimes happened.

Mulder had the idea that maybe the disregard to inhibition didn't necessarily always lead to crimes. All of the individuals admitted that what they did was something they had always imagined doing; their biggest fantasy. However, they all said they remember their actions that day, but they felt like a passenger in their own body. They had no control over their actions or words, as if their subconcious took over. Mulder had a feeling that there were people out there who had a similar thing happen, but since it didn't result in a crime per se, they didn't come forward. Say if someone's biggest fantasy was bathing in applesauce for example, that is weird, it is out of the ordinary, but someone most likely wouldn't go out of the way to say they felt compelled to do so. So there is no way to gauge how many people had been impacted by this force.

When Mulder decided to pitch his theory to the lead Sheriff on the case, Sheriff Campbell, that is when all progress came to a halt. Mulder and Scully were both used to adverse reactions to their findings, but the Sheriff took it to a whole new level. He thought that they were making a mockery out of the situation, asked them how they were suggesting to pursue such an outrageous claim, and promptly kicked them off the case.

As the Sheriff was filing the paperwork to relinquish them from the case Scully tried to make light of the situation and said, "If only he knew this was one of your more normal theories."

As disappointed as Mulder was to have to give up the case, the Sheriff was equally as disappointed to see Scully go, having been a little overly fond of her through the entire investigation, much to both agents' chagrin.

When they were getting in the car to leave, he had followed them out and leaned a hand against Scully's door, preventing her from opening it. "Now, Miss Scully, I want you to know if you ever find yourself in Oregon again, you are more than welcome to come and visit. We would love to have you," he leered, his eyes raking up and down her body.

Scully tried not to laugh at the set of Mulder's jaw and squinting eyes, which made him look like a pouting child, and turned to face the offending man, "Dr. Scully, and I appreciate the offer Sheriff Campbell," she stated with stern politeness.

He held up a finger, signalling to wait, before he ran to his car to retrieve something. Scully shot Mulder and irritated glance before looking back at the man now approaching her.

He held out, what appeared to be, a sixteen ounce bottle of a strange green liquid. At Scully's raised eyebrow he explained, "I remember you saying how much you liked green tea. I own a local herbal shop that's popular around these parts and it's customary to give tea as a parting gift," he smiled as she accepted the bottle. He quickly turned to Mulder's expectant face and deadpanned, "I only have one bottle." Scully thanked him once more before opening the door with enough force to knock away the sheriff's hand.

Now they had been on the road trying to get closer to the airport they were set to fly out of. The city they had spend the past week in was in the middle of the forest, so trying to find an airport that would fly them all the way back to D.C. proved to be a challenge.

Feeling uncomfortable with the silence, Mulder decided to apologize, "I'm sorry this was a waste of our time, Scully."

She turned to him with a slight look of shock on her face, an apology from Mulder wasn't necessarily rare, but it was never given because of something out of his control. "It's not your fault Mulder. You didn't get a chance to qualify your theory. If it is true, then this isn't the most malicious case we have had to leave behind," she took a pause trying to figure out how to phrase her explanation. She didn't necessarily believe it, but she didn't want him dwelling on something that wasn't his fault. "Yes, a few ended with tragedies, but if what you think is correct, then only a small percentage of the cases were negative. Maybe this outside force lowering inhibitions benefitted some people, we won't know, but at least it isn't a sole murderer out on the town. You investigated as thoroughly as you could, and if Sheriff Campbell doesn't want to hear your point of view then it's his loss," she rambled a bit embarrassed.

Her speech caused Mulder to grin a little. It was so rare she indulged him in his theories, she must be trying to spare his feelings. Seeing her stumble to find words to do so warmed his heart. He looked over and she was playing with the bottle cap to her half-finished tea, trying to look casual, but he could tell she was a little flustered at her declaration.

"Thank you Scully, I was just a little nervous that you were upset with me since you've been so quiet," he explained honestly.

"No, no, not at all," she replied, " I just have a headache and want to sleep it off."

Mulder caught a glimpse of the road sign passing by and predicted if they stopped now, but left around seven in the morning, they would get to the flight with plenty of time to spare. "We aren't that far away from the airport. We can stop at the next motel and just leave in the morning," he offered, feeling warm at the appreciative smile she gave him.

Motel 88

Troutdale, Oregon

10:12 p.m.

The motel was as mediocre as usual, but it had two open rooms with an adjoining door, so they couldn't complain. They went to their separate rooms, but Mulder, ever the natural worrier, wanted to make sure Scully was okay before turning in for the night.

He stopped before the adjoining door and rapped his knuckles on it lightly. When he entered, Scully was standing near the thermostat, fiddling with it lightly. "Need help?" he offered.

"No, thank you though, I think I got it. It's just really hot in my room. What's up?" she asked, turning towards him.

Mulder personally felt like the rooms were both cold, but didn't think it was worth mentioning. Seeing the exhaustion in her eyes, he decided to let her be, "I just wanted to come in and ask if your head was feeling any better."

Scully felt a warmth spread over her at his thoughtfulness. He was always so conscious about making sure she was happy and healthy, his dedication to her well-being was her favorite thing about him. Without saying it, he proved his love to her everyday. She raked up and down his lean runner's body resting casually against the room's chair. Okay, his dedication was only one of her favorite things about him.

She smiled at him and he couldn't help but send a thanks to the god he didn't believe in. A Scully smile was rare and he'd gotten two within the hour. " Yeah, I actually think it's subsided. I'm just tired."

"Okay, I'll see you in the morning. If you miss me, just call for me," he joked, making his way towards the door.

"Wait," she mumbled shyly.

His heart leapt a little at her tone of voice, thinking she was about to say something flirty back and tease him. He turned to throw a sly comment her way, but it immediately died on his lips at the sight in front of him. Scully was standing in the middle of the room wobbling on unsteady feet.

"Act-tually, M-Muhlder, I d-n't feel so goo-," she stuttered, hands flailing lightly at her side trying to right her rapidly depleting balance. She saw the look of worry wash over his face when he turned around, but she couldn't understand the words he was saying. Her mind was working a mile a minute self-diagnosing herself, but her mouth wouldn't cooperate. Within seconds, she could feel her whole body start tingling and becoming heavy.

Mulder saw her falling backwards and immediately rushed to her side, easing her to the ground lightly as her head lolled from shoulder to shoulder. Her glazed, wild eyes locked on his before rolling to the back of her head, effectively going limp in his arms.

He could barely hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest as he frantically tried to tap on her cheek to rouse her. She had been fine less than thirty seconds ago. No slurred speech, no stumbling, nothing that could have hinted something was wrong.

He felt a shiver run down his spine as a familiar thought invaded him. The cancer is back. No matter how many months passed since she went into remission, the fear and worry, that plagued him for months, always resided in the back of his mind. Trying to ignore his nerves, he placed a gently finger under her chin to give him a better angle to evaluate her face.

There was no sign of a bloody nose.

He exhaled in temporary relief before checking out the rest of her. Her pulse was slightly higher than normal, but not enough to be significant. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, but no excessive perspiration. Nothing clued him in on what could have caused this.

I'm usually the one who gets sick. Scully's the Doctor, I'm useless at this.

Trying to shake off the futile irritation at his non-existent medical skills, he hooked one arm under the back of Scully's knees and placed the other one across her back and under her arm, effectively picking her up bridal-style. She felt like a rag doll in his arms.

Taking the few steps across the room, he gently laid her on top of the motel's cheap bedspread. He couldn't help but notice how tiny she appeared, her head no where near the headboard and her feet far away from the edge of the bed. Her resilience and intensity made him forget what a petite, lithe woman she is.

For a few moments he stood over her trying to decide what his next move should be. Running a hand through his hair, he exhaled slowly as he got his cell phone out of his pocket. I'd rather face her wrath and call an ambulance than have this possibly get worse. He had only heard the phone ring once before he felt a hand grab firmly at his belt near his hip bone. He looked down and saw Scully, fully alert and gazing straight at him. He ended the call and kneeled down beside the bed.

"Scully, you scared the shit out of me," he exhaled, giving her a concerned smile. He saw Scully smirk coyly at his words, not releasing her grip.

"I'm sorry," she said behind heavy lashes.

Even though she was awake and alert now, Mulder's worry wasn't subsiding. There was something off, but he couldn't put a finger on exactly what it was.

"Scully, what the hell just happened? You were fine one second and the next you were slurring and collapsing," he questioned, brushing stray hairs behind her ears. He was slightly stunned when she leaned into his touch, brushing her soft cheek against his fingers.

"Maybe I just wanted you to sweep me off my feet," she cooed sweetly. Pressing his palm against her cheek and gazing into his stunned eyes.

What the fuck?

Mulder's concern now was back in full force. While he and Scully bantered on occasion, and if it was a great day, sometimes even flirted, his usually reserved partner never was this blunt. He was worried that she hit her head on something without him noticing, or something worse, and knew he needed to check her again.

Ignoring her prior comment, he put his hands on her shoulders as a prompt, "Scully, I need you to sit up for me, okay?" She smirked at him and started to comply, but instead of sitting up straight, her head and arms splayed out on his shoulders. A shiver went down Mulder's spine when he felt her breath tickle his neck.

Not knowing what to really do, he gently pushed her shoulders back and got a good look at her. Her normally sky-blue eyes were heavily dilated to the point of looking black and they also looked hooded and glazed over. Her skin looked red and flushed. He was worried that if this was a fever that she was roasting herself in her no-nonsense suit. Trying to finish his impromptu exam, he took her dainty wrist in her hand and took her pulse. It took longer than normal, due to the fact Scully kept idly stroking his forearm and distracting him. Her pulse was still a little higher than normal, and now that he was so close, he noticed her breathing was labored. He may have not gone to med school, but he was pretty sure he could recognize a fever when he saw one.

He stood up and noticed Scully's eyes were trained on him. Becoming self-conscious under her gaze, he decided to try and make her as comfortable as possible.

"Scully, I think you have a fever. That suit probably isn't helping your cause, so while you change, I'm going to wet some washcloths with cold water to help. I'll just be in the bathroom, as soon as you're ready for me holler," he proclaimed in a hurry. He darted into the bathroom without giving her a chance to respond and shut the door behind him.

As soon as he was hidden from her gaze, he released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He reached a hand down to the front of his pants to confirm his suspicions; he had been getting hard. He glared at his own reflection in the mirror with irritation. She is sick and you're getting turned on. He felt guilty, but seeing her so flustered and touchy was definitely getting to him. The cancer time was different, she never was delirious like she was now. Now that he really thought about it, he had never really seen her lose her control. Never drunk, never sick like this, and honestly, thank god. If this was any indication, he could barely handle it.

It only took a minute to soak the washcloths and put them in the ice bowl for convenience. As soon as he was done, she called out "I'm ready for you Mulder!" He couldn't help but smirk at how in sync they always were.

When he opened the door, any humor he was feeling was replaced with heart palpitations. Scully was splayed on the middle of the bed, in nothing but her underwear, looking straight at him.

All attempts he made in the bathroom to calm his erection were for nothing because it was now back with a vengeance. He remained in the doorway completely shocked. His eyes darted in a quick sweep, noting her black, matching, lacy bra and panties. Her breasts rising and falling with each labored breath, restricted by the cruelly-sheer fabric. Her legs wantonly spread open, one ankle on either side of the bed. He quickly swerved around to both respect her modesty and shield the tent he just pitched in his pants.

Trying to find his voice, he stuttered out, "Sc-Scully, I told you to get me when you were changed."

"Nooo, you said when I was ready for you. I'm ready," she challenged. He could hear the smile in her voice.

It suddenly dawned on him that maybe she was having trouble and that's why she called out. "Scully, did you need help?" he prompted.

There was a slight pause before she responded, "Yeah." There was still something in her voice he couldn't quite place.

He set the bowl of towels down on the desk by the door before asking over his shoulder, " Where are your pyjamas?"

"Over there," she cheekily responded. She was forcing him to have to look back at her.

He turned and saw she had shifted positions. She was now sitting on her calves, which were tuck under her, grinning as she pointed to her suitcase beside the bed.

Eager to look away, he followed her finger and started trifling through the bag. He hastily pulled out a pair of navy blue satin pyjamas he knew he had seen her wear before.

Trying to put on a brave face, he turned to her and motioned for her to scoot to the end of the bed. He laid the top down next to her and bent down on one knee, stretching out the elastic waistband so she could slip her feet in. He decided to break the silence that had fallen over them by asking about her condition, "Are you dizzy?"

Instead of putting her feet in the offered clothing, she ran a bare foot up and down his side, causing him to quickly intake his breath. "No, not in particular."

He glanced up at her and saw she was, yet again, leering at him. He was grateful he was wearing jeans since it would be less noticeable, but he could feel his heartbeat in his erection right now and he didn't want her to get mad at him for it.

He didn't want to do anything to make her uncomfortable since she was sick, even if she was possibly flirting with him, it was probably just the fever. Mulder wanted to end this before it got embarrassing so he grabbed her ankles one by one and put them in the pants before sliding them up her creamy, smooth legs. Stop ogling her Mulder.

Even though he was pulling the waistband as taut as possible, he couldn't avoid touching her when she refused to cooperate getting the pants above her hips. With an exasperated sigh, he looped one arm around her back, lifting her off the bed, as the other hand yanked up her shorts.

While he was congratulating himself on accomplishing half of this journey, he noticed she looped her arms around his neck and was keeping his chest flush with her scantily clad breasts.

"Scully?" he squeaked, embarrassed at how his voice was coming out.

Her mouth went torturously to his ear and she whispered, "I don't sleep in a bra Mulder. Are you going to help me with that?" she teased.

As his eyes widened at her words, he caught sight of an empty bottle on her nightstand and a realization struck him.

"Scully?" he prompted, all prior embarrassment temporarily leaving, "Did you drink all of that tea?" he asked.

He felt her nod against his shoulder, "Yeah, but now I want to drink something else," she purred, placing her lips on his neck.

It took every ounce of willpower to pry her off, but he took her upper arms in his hands and forced her to look at him. "Scully, when did you drink it?"

She rolled her eyes, but complied with his interrogation, "I drank a little bit on the car ride, before we started talking, and then I finished the rest of the bottle a couple minutes before you came in," she responded lazily, running her calf up his inner thigh.

He wasn't even focused on her ministrations, instead applying this new knowledge to the case in his mind. Consumption. That's how the lack of inhibition is passed. That tea that the Sheriff gave Scully was what was carrying whatever it is that does this to people. And that's why we were kicked off the case! My assumptions were right and, since the Sheriff was behind it, he didn't want us figuring any more out. He said the town was notorious for their herb shop, so anyone getting this tea was effected. He probably thought lowering inhibitions would help people do what they've always wanted to do, he just didn't realize some of the town people's dreams were so violent.

He was snapped out of his train of thought when Scully, who unbeknownst to him unwrapped her arms from his neck and snaked them down his body, cupped his erection through his pants. He sucked in a quick breath between gritted teeth when he felt his heart stop. This isn't a fever, she's aroused. She isn't delirious, she is flirting with me on purpose. Scully's biggest fantasy... is to have sex with me.

For once in his life, Fox Mulder was stunned into complete and utter silence. He had been in love with her for years, but he had accepted it would forever be unrequited. Now he was in Scully's hotel room, while she was drugged, and her revealed subconscious was announcing that she wanted to have sex with him. He was pulled out of his reverie when he felt her trying to undo his belt and fly.

He quickly reached down and grabbed her wrists, earning him a frustrated whine. "Scully, that tea had something in it. I think you've been drugged like the rest of the people," he tried to explain.

"You mean the tea was what made people act on their subconscious "fantasies" as you called it?" She asked, he thought she appeared to be taking this seriously.

He took her response as a good sign, "Yes. That would make sense then of why the Sheriff made us stop pursuing it any further, he was the one making and distributing the tea."

She nodded, taking in the information before that insidious smile crept back on her mouth, "So are you saying that my biggest fantasy is you fucking me?"

His prior excitement at figuring the case out was outshined by her intense gaze and he was, yet again, at a loss for words. He was only able to offer a wear, "I-I don't know."

With an unpossessed power, she latched her legs around his midsection, hoisted him completely on the bed, and rolled him on his back. He wasn't sure if the drug had an adrenaline boost, or if he was boneless from shock and Scully capitalized on it. Her new strength aside, she was now on top of him straddling his stomach, dangerously low, and was peering down at him through flirty lashes.

"Well, let me help you solidify your theory," she purred, rolling her hips on him, earning a choked moan. "So you're hypothesizing that the tea has some sort of compound in it, possibly herbal or pharmaceutical, that upon consumption, will lower the inhibitions of the consumer. Thus, causing them to act out on their deepest desires. Correct?" She asked, undulating her hips through the whole statement.

Mulder was staring up at her in shock until a gentle squeeze of her legs on his sides made him realize she was waiting for an answer. Finding his voice he offered, "Yes. M-more or less, that's the conclusion I've drawn." He now was gripping her hips tightly to stop her movements.

Unperturbed by his grasp, she continued her speech, "So it must be pretty potent if I was so heavily affected in such a short time. But I had a few sips in the car and nothing happened," she offered, running her hands up and down his chest.

Trying to ignore his incessant hard on that was painfully pressed against his jeans, he continued on with this in hopes that it was bringing her back to her normal self. "Well, actually, you were really nice to me in the car. N-not that you aren't nice. It was just out of the ordinary for you to compliment me like that."

She appeared to be absorbing what he was saying, then nodded in agreement. "That's right. I remember you looked sad and I wanted you to feel better," she mused, making him smile again. When she caught sight of his smile, the predatory gleam returned in her eye making his breath catch in his throat.

She continued on with her analysis, "So then I come in here, finish it, and now here we are," rolling her hips for emphasis. "In all technicality, you saw how the Sheriff was looking at me, I know you did because I could see how jealous it was making you. What if he gave me tea that was laced with some sort of date-rape drug. For all he knew we were going back to our motel in town. Maybe he wanted me to drink it so he could sneak into my room and have his way with me. There were no other cases we saw regarding sex. Maybe this was an unrelated event of a lonely Sheriff wanting what he couldn't have otherwise"

Mulder's brow furrowed, his concern superseding everything else, "I-I did't think of that. I thought date rape drugs incapacitated the consumer. Is there a type that could cause sexual aggression?" he asked.

Scully threw her head back in a throaty laugh and Mulder reveled in the sound. She leaned her head back towards him in amusement, "Is that what you consider this, Mulder? Sexual aggression?" She didn't wait for a response before giving her own, "But-yes. There are such drugs, especially when they are altered or mixed. But do you know why I don't believe that's the case here?"

Mulder truly did not know where she was going with this and just shook his head. She placed one hand on either side of his head and was now gazing down at him from her perch. "Because, Mulder, your theory fits better. If this was a drug inducing arousal, I could have finished the job off myself."

The image of Scully pleasuring herself prevailed his mind and he couldn't help the whimper that escaped his throat. Scully's smile was now challenging the Cheshire cat. She continued, "But no, my first thought wasn't getting myself off. It was getting myself off with you. Which is exactly what I fantasize about on a daily basis. I don't want to rob a bank, I don't want to murder someone, I don't want to do any of the things the others did; I want to hear you moan my name as your fucking me. I want to feel you love me like I love you."

Mulder was on the verge of tears. This luxurious torture was too much for him to handle. He was awestruck that the beautiful woman of his dreams was confessing to, not only sexually fantasizing about him, but confessing to reciprocating the feelings of love he felt towards her. However, nothing could happen right now, he would never take advantage of Scully in an altered state.

She moved one hand from the side of his head and moved it down to the front of his pants. She leaned down so her lips were practically on his and said, "Don't you lie to me because I know you want this too."

He reached down and gripped her wrist, pulling it away from his aching cock. "Scully, we can't right now. You're not yourself. I would never have sex with you while you're under an influence," he saw her start to pout and moved a finger under her chin so she had to look at him, "I can't even tell you how much I want this. From the other cases, we know everyone affected remembers their actions the next day, so remember this; I love you so much. I want to be with you more than anything in the world, but I cannot do anything with you until this has worn off, please understand."

She looked conflicted, but ultimately nodded. "Will you stay with me at least?" she requested, easing off him a little, much to his appreciation.

"Of course," he answered, watching her move from her perch atop him. He panicked a bit when she reached behind her back and whipped off her bra. He quickly averted his gaze, not after having caught a glimpse at her beautiful breasts, and tried to calm his breathing. He was relieved when she crawled next to him on the bed and he saw she had put on her pyjama top.

They re-positioned themselves so that they were laying under the sheets. Now that he was pretty much hidden out of view, he slipped off his pants and threw them on the floor so he could sleep comfortably. He reached over and turned off the lights, putting one arm around her neck before kissing the top of her forehead and wishing her a goodnight. The couple soon fell into an undisturbed slumber.

Motel 88

Troutdale, Oregon

6:24 A.M.

Mulder awoke in confusion. His sleep-laden brain tried to comprehend where he was and the unfamiliar pressure he felt. When he looked down and saw a mass of red, tousled hair, everything came rushing back to him. Scully loves me.

He felt his chest tighten as he looked at her gentle features, highlighted my the sunrise. He also felt his erection was still present and pressing into Scully's hip, which was draped over him. It can't be healthy to have all your blood rushing to fuel a 10 hour, non-stop erection. He stilled a little as he noticed her shifting, his breath stopping when we head raised. She looked around, just as confused as he had been. As soon as her eyes locked on his, her entire face flushed an unhealthy shade of red. He couldn't help but wonder if it took more blood to fuel that flush or his hard on.

She slowly sat up fully and he felt his stomach plummet in the realization that she was probably beyond embarrassed. She was always so reserved, in the best way possible. Last night she revealed things to him that she probably had never planned to. He decided it was better to get her to talk about it now, before she had a chance to bury her feelings, "Scully, how are you feeling."

She turned slightly towards him and he could see her bottom lip was quivering and it broke his heart. He quickly joined her in a sitting position and threw an arm around her shoulder, bringing her to his chest in a hug. "Hey, hey, please don't cry. Why are you upset?" he asked even though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

She spoke so silently, he questioned if he even heard it at all, "I'm really embarrassed." A single tear rolled down her cheek, but in normal Scully-fashion, she turned her head away from him in hopes he hadn't seen.

Deciding to put his feelings on the line, he offered his honesty to make her feel better, "I don't like the fact that guy drugged you and that you lost control of your own free-will," she sobbed a little at the memory but he continued, "But that was the only thing I didn't like about last night. Okay, I guess aside from the fact the woman of my dreams was confessing everything I could have dreamed of hearing her say and I couldn't do a single thing in return." he noticed she was a bit stiller and was now just lightly sniffling.

He took this as a good side and decided to continue, "Scully I don't know if you remembered what I said, but I meant every word. I absolutely adore you, I have loved you for years. I don't want you to feel any embarrassment over last night. I don't know how you're perceiving your actions, but from an outside point of view, it was the hottest thing I have seen or experienced in my entire life."

She turned her head over to face him slightly more and spoke up a little bit, "I basically forced myself on you," she whispered. He looked down at her incredulously. Did she view that as unwanted advances?

"Scully, I can promise you wholeheartedly that you did nothing to me that I haven't dreamt of you doing. The only reason I was rebuffing anything was because I didn't want to take advantage of you in an altered state. I would never forgive myself," he reassured. "While I want nothing more than to show you how much I appreciated everything you said, I don't want you to feel like anything is being held over you. If you want me to pretend like it never happened-well, actually I can't lie to you. I won't be able to forget it happened, I can never mention it in your presence and I will never remind you of it in anyway. But it will definitely remain in my top five happiest memories of my entire life, even if aliens crashed into this room right now and called me thier leader. But if you didn't mean it-" his rambling was cut off by a pair of lips crashing into his own. The kiss was soft and sweet, and he marveled at the feeling of Scully's soft, lush mouth pressed over his own.

After a beat she leaned back and looked at him, "Mulder, nothing I said was untrue. It was just as the people we questioned said, I don't know if I would ever have had the nerve to tell you without that prompt, but I meant what I said."

Mulder was a little worried that his smile might rip his face open. Scully loves me, Scully loves me, Scully wants me. The last thought made his pulse jump. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. He gazed down into her eyes and was overwhelmed by the affection he saw in their depths. He took it as a sign and did what he's always dreamt of doing, he placed one hand in her hair and pressed his lips down against her own, immediately met with a bit more fervor than the kiss from a moment ago.

Everything in the world outside of Scully's inviting mouth ceased to exist. He was drunk off this kiss, and he couldn't get enough of her. Their tongues met in a playful battle, going from one mouth to another. Her tongue was like wet silk and every movement of her lips against his own made him want to moan. He started to get light headed and had to break the kiss to catch his breath. When their lips left one another, his eyes were drawn to the string of saliva that connected their lips. After a few pants, the string broke and landed on her chin. It was the most painfully erotic thing he had ever seen.

"Fuck, Scully" the words slipped out of his mouth like a prayer.

Scully's dark eyes latched onto him as she straddled his hips and resumed their kissing. He grabbed her hips, but unlike last night, he pressed her core down on his erection and ground into her centre. Her mouth halted as she throatily moaned into his mouth. Fucking Christ.

She sat back up and moved her hands near where they were joined, it took his brain a second to catch up with her hands to realize she was trying to take off his shirt. He sat up with her and whipped off his shirt. As soon as it was off, her hands were greedily roaming the undiscovered territory.

He didn't even know his body could experience the sensations she was providing him with. He has never been more appreciative of her medical training then he was in this moment, did she ever know the body. Her teeth grazed lightly over his nipples causing him to involuntarily buck his hips, desperate for friction. The motion made Scully whimper into his chest and it nearly set him over.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back a little, so he had access to the buttons on her shirt. She reached up to undo the top button, but he placed his hand over hers, "Please, let me," he begged, watching amusement dance with the lust in her eyes as she nodded. He wanted to memorize this moment, not that it would be hard with his eidetic memory, but he wanted to experience everything he could about Scully.

He cradled her face in his hand and gently traced the outline of her lips with his thumb. The lips that he had spent years fantasizing about were now under his touch. He felt her gently kiss the pad of his digit with her lips, just slightly darting the tip of her tongue out. The image was painfully suggestive and he had to close his eyes for a second and take a deep breath. When he opened his eyes he moved his fingers down the slope of her milky white neck, leaving a light trail of her own saliva in his thumbs wake. When he got to the hollow of her throat, he gently fondled the gold cross that lived there, earning a small smile from the eager woman.

When he went lower he hit the silk of her top, "You have too many clothes on," he teased.

He got a breathy chuckle in response, "Can you help me with that?"

With a slight nod he moved to the buttons prohibiting the skin on skin contact he so desperately wanted. Willing his shaky fingers to cooperate, he moved button by button relishing the exposed flesh. He could tell by her labored breath that she was as eager as he was. When the final button was undone, he moved his hands to her shoulders and gently pushed the fabric away.

He saw her chest flush, and could tell it was taking a lot of her will power not to cover her breasts from his gaze. He placed his hand on her bare hips and whispered into her neck, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are." He immediately started kissing the erogenous zone on her neck, but by the pull of her tendons, he could tell his comment made her smile.

Her skin was smooth and beautifully blemished, like a road map of her life that he wanted to travel forever. He had seen her near-naked on many occasions. One of which happened their first week as partners. But each time made him fall deeper and deeper in love with her. He wanted to cry in gratitude that Dana Katherine Scully was allowing him to worship her in this moment. He wanted to show her how much he loves her.

Not letting his mouth halt their ministrations, he moved his hands to cup her heavy breasts and he felt her pulse quicken under his tongue. He placed the pads of his thumbs over her nipples and lightly flicked them back and forth, making her grind into his lap.

Quickly he replaced his fingers and took a nipple greedily into his mouth, making her cry out. Fueled by the sounds she was making, he was unrelenting, swapping attention from nipple to nipple until he felt her hand cup his erection through his boxers forcing him to stop as his whole body shuddered.

She leaned down so he breath tickled his neck, "Mulder, there are so many other things I want to do to you, but I know we have plenty of opportunities to explore in the future. I need to feel you inside me right now," she pleaded as she stroked his length, stopping at his base to cup his balls.

Her words almost made him cum on the spot, and she laughed at his lengthy groan. He looked at her aroused face and nodded eagerly. Disengaging for a moment, they both quickly removed their pants before she returned to straddling his lap. In the iridescent sunrise, caught a glint of her arousal running down her legs, one little drop dribbling onto his stomach. He reached out a hand to confirm he wasn't hallucinating and was met with her bucking into his soaked palm.

"You're so wet," he groaned with pleasure.

She didn't even seem to notice, instead, she was hyper focused on his penis standing at attention and bobbing eagerly against her inner thigh. He felt a little shy under her unrepentant gaze before she muttered with a smirk, "Oh my god, Mulder, you're hung."

He laughed in relief. As a medical doctor, he knew she had seen plenty in her time and that her compliment was not meant to simply boost his ego. Before he had a chance to reply, she was perched over him, cock in hand, rubbing his tip over her slit, coating himself with her wetness.

She slowly, inch by inch, started to lower herself down on his length. He had to bite his palm to keep himself from bucking into her. After a moment she had slid all the way down to the base of his pelvis and threw her head back in ecstasy as she became accustomed to his girth.

When she was ready, she started moving up and down his length, rotating her hips in an attempt to heighten the friction. Mulder felt all the air leave his lungs as he was overcome with the sensation of being buried in Scully. She was unbelievably wet, warm, and inviting. He met her thrust for thrust, watching her breast bounce up and down with each gyration.

After a few minutes, he could tell she was close based on the erotic mewling sounds she was making. He sat his body up and she gasped at the new pressure it put on her sensitized clit. She started bucking wildly against his lap, frequently stopping at the hilt and rotating her hips to grind her clit onto his pubic bone. Wanting to help push her over the edge, he licked three fingers and placed them on her bundle of nerves, moving against them vigorously. Scully, having watched the whole thing, felt her orgasm rush over her like a wave. She impaled herself on his engorged penis and ground against his fingers, screaming his name.

Mulder was blinded by the sight in front of him. Her hands went to his shoulders and her nails dug in, attempting to push herself farther down on him. It was as if their bodies were one entity. He body trembled with her orgasm, as her face twisted into beautiful bliss. The sight of her, combined with the feeling of her pelvic muscles squeezing around him and the sound of his name coming from her lips, sent him over the edge as well. With one final thrust, he joined her in ecstasy. When their orgasms subsided, Mulder felt Scully go boneless in his lap and she rested her forehead against his. He gently placed a kiss on her sweaty forehead and cradled her in his arms.

"Wow," he felt her smile against his chest, making him grin in pride.

He gently laid back down, slipping semi-hard out of her, and wrapped his arms around her.

He didn't mean to, but he felt tears slipping down his cheeks. When she brushed her thumb over the tracks, he opened his mouth to explain, but she beat him to it, "I love you too"

He placed a gentle kiss to her lips which was reciprocated with love and gentility.

The partners, now in every sense of the word, laid in contented bliss, eager to do so for every day after.

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Most annoying argument imo is when they say it makes sense for Claude to side with Edel.gard in GW because he does so "under his terms" and siding with Edel.gard lets him kill Rhea "like he always wanted to."

Claude thinking for a second that Edel.gard ACTUALLY respects him as a leader and not a roadblock she's tolerating so that she can use him? That thing Judith basically says happen and Claude denies he's letting happen (as he goes on to do what Edel.gard wants later)? That's him being a trusting dumbass (two things he was very much NOT in 3H), not him "making peace with the Empire under his terms." And him feeling the need to kill Rhea is SO utterly forced in GW, and only makes sense because of ONE SINGULAR LINE in all of 3H (the "world without Rhea" one).

But don't you dare point put the obvious flaws in logic that make no sense for Claude’s character to have, that would mean you're a dumb fuck who never understood his REEEEEAAAAL character (that was only sorta kinda a thing in the DRAFTS) 😒

I never understood why people take a single line and use it as constant fact while ignoring everything else that contradicts that one line. Claude never wanted to outright kill Rhea even when you consider that line though, so it's really just Rhea haters taking that one sentence to an extreme. In Hopes he also doesn't have a relationship on either end toward Rhea so he didn't "always" want to kill her. He only said that in Houses, thus that line was only relevant in Houses and he also didn't mean it explicitly as "I want to personally kill her".

Typically people just... take that line and ignore the way VW ended and how Claude didn't hate Rhea by the end. They weren't best friends, no, but he did have a better understanding of her and realized that it was true that Fodlan still needed her.

Something I hate when people view character relationships that is that, at leas with this general group of people, they always force their own feelings onto their favorites. Since most Claude fans hate Rhea and actively want him to kill her with his own hands, they completely ignore anything he says regarding her unless it's negative, then pull the "see, I told you so". Instead of correctly reading the character and their relationships, they project what they want to see onto them.

Yeah, Claude wasn't making peace with the Empire. He expected them to attack Leicester again after Leicester fought Rhea, so not only was he not making peace under any terms, but it's part of why the whole arc is a disaster. He claims he's expecting the war to continue even with Rhea gone, but yet he also claims he wants to end the war as soon as possible with the least sacrifices. If he expected the war to keep going after defeating Rhea, he should have left Edelgard when she requested aid, like, you know, Lorenz suggested. From a story standpoint, it didn't make any sense at all if Claude was truly trying to keep deaths to a minimum. He has no reason to make peace with Edelgard either, because she was the one who attacked in the first place. He would be justified in leaving her to die, and he would prevent future causalities. There's just zero narrative purpose in saving her other than the devs... just... wanting to save her.

omg yeah, that argument. Because surely Hopes Claude was the real thing all along and all of Houses was just completely fake. It was so fake we would never have known it was totally fake if not for Hopes Claude coming to save us all. 😒

Honestly I didn't enjoy GW, but the diehard stans of it have just made me hate it. I feel bad for the fans of the route who just liked it and minded their own business without bothering people who didn't enjoy it. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't like to speak up about enjoying the route because of how condescending the stans for it are toward people who didn't enjoy it. Overall seeing that kind of behavior just really left an even worse taste in my mouth as far as how I feel about the route.

[struggling-to-find-home]

Annnnd welcome to surviving staying with abusers for a whole ass month, part 1!

So, after my first semester in uni (during which I tried to visit the house as little as possible) ended, I now have a month to fuck around in my home city, all while surviving a flat with three abusers. So I decided to document it here because a) why the fuck not and b) it will allow me to treat it like a game, which is much better for my mental health than just enduring.

And also,,, Idk, maybe for someone who is also in an abusive house it will be fun to read how I survive mine.

So, here's the general situation:

There are three other abusers in the house, only one of them has a set schedule of not being there until 7-8pm; the other two have an erratic timetable, therefore I can't predict when they will or won't be there

Each of them have a certain "area" they exist in the most; unfortunately, one of those areas is directly on the other side of the wall that has the door to my room, which means every time I enter my room I have to pass him

All of them take note of any information you give off and WILL use it against me, therefore anything I do should be done in a way where they won't understand what the fuck I am doing

This also applies to belongings, so there should either be nothing of mine lying in the open or my room should be so cluttered they physically can't take note of anything because there is too much stuff laying around

Food is,,, an issue. Half the time I can't eat what they're having, cooking for myself isn't an option because that leads to a multi hour abuser meltdown, and eating stuff from the food stash I brought needs to be done in a way where noone can hear/see that I am eating, because yes this also causes a meltdown

Sneaking food is,,, possible, but it's better to do when both of my parents aren't present because although my brother will take part of the food if he sees it, at least he won't have a meltdown

Therefore food should be hidden well to prevent potential stealing

You can hear practically everything going on in the flat so being quiet is a must

(I get that half of these are about food, but getting enough really is a very big issue)

Abusive episodes are it's own thing, but this is like. Your basic stuff that I always have to keep track of.

I brought a food stash, plenty of entertainment and a few comfort items with me to keep my sanity intact. I have been here for like 20 minutes and have already run into a roadblock of not being able to unpack my bags because they have food with ✨loud packaging ✨ that can ✨arise suspicion ✨, because, you know, abuser on the other side of the wall (who's videos are also playing at a frankly overstimulating volume); I have also not eaten since one, now being seven, and won't be able to until my mother comes home, so as you can see, things are already going splendidly.

Stay tuned for my adventures trying to survive this bullshit, I guess. I mean, I've lived in this bullshit for 18 years, what's one more month? (A lot)

[prydon]

I had some questions about your writing, if you don’t mind me asking. Mostly just because I’m curious and I keep thinking about your recent fic and how the quality is SO GOOD lmao:

How long do you let an idea incubate in your brain before you sit down and start on it? Do you make an outline first or just kind of start and then get together an outline?

How many ideas do you have floating around right now, and how many of those do you think you’ll write?

How long does it take you to write a chapter (I know your chapter lengths change, but let’s say 7K words. Because honestly your quality in your chapters is soooo good and only improving so I wanted to know how long it takes, how many times you reread it/edit it, etc!)

What’s the thing you like beat about your writing style that you think you do really well?

Again I was just curious for a closer look into the way you write because I think it’s so fascinating!! Hope you’re doing well! :)

FIRST OF ALL you are so sweet, i'm really honored that you like my work enough to be interested in hearing about stuff like this!!!

second of all i'm so sorry for the ramble you are about to receive haha i am incapable of being concise

- OKAY, first question: often times i'll have some vague concepts in my head for several weeks or months, but either intentionally put them on the backburner bc i need to work on other stuff or have some roadblock preventing me from starting on them--for example, with constellations i'd always wanted to write a childhood friends au, but i hadn't been able to come up with an interesting explanation for how juno and nureyev could meet as kids and didn't want to start outlining a story for that idea until i did. which ended up being for the best, bc once i finally did figure out how they'd meet (aka nureyev coming to hyperion as an illegal stowaway with a group of brahman revolutionaries), that informed pretty much every other major plot point that happens in the fic.

i do always make an outline first--i'm usually pretty uncomfortable going into writing something without having at least a general idea of all of its story beats from beginning to end (with some exceptions.....). but i also almost never turn a concept into an outline until i'm actually ready/have time to write the fic that goes along with it, bc once i have an outline i become rabid and need to write the thing asiufhaus.

- how many ideas do i have floating around right now? uhh idk, i do have a document just called "fic/art ideas" that has base concepts for a bunch of different potential works, but i don't even remember half of them. i think in a way i have a sort of... idea holding area?? full of stuff that might be cool but i don't have serious intentions to write, and then every couple months some of those ideas might float up to surface and become more developed before eventually being written.

so right now i'd say i have about five things that i'm either actively writing, have outlined, or intend to write soon (constellations ch11, bang fic, short multichapter, one shot, sequel to [spoiler]), then ~three beyond that which have no clear plans but are Likely to be written someday, aand then a dozen miscellaneous ideas that may or may not ever go anywhere.

- how long does it take me to write a chapter? (thank you btw i'm so flattered ;u; and surprised you feel like they're getting better bc tbh i was worried they were getting worse lol) hmmm, that one's tough just bc i'm so often working on multiple things. like there was a little less than a month between the two chapters i wrote most recently, but that's because i also wrote a separate one shot during that time.

i'd say maybe two weeks? but it also depends on my motivation to write the thing. i've written 10k one shots in a matter of days in the past bc i was just that inspired. constellations tends to take a bit longer just bc having to write a fic in order is the bane of my existence and i'm always writing other stuff alongside it bc if i was stuck working on only one story for seven+ months straight i'd physically die asuifhsa

as for how many times i reread or edit them.... maybe three times? i tend to read over a chapter or one shot a couple times while writing it, then one last time as an ao3 draft so i can see it complete and in its final format before posting it. if i'm working with a beta, it could be like seven or eight times though lol.

- favorite thing about my writing style.... i guess one of my favorite things in stuff i've read is the use of understatement, and so i'm proud of how i've been able to incorporate that into my own style. like, deliberately underplaying an emotional moment or stating a Very Big thing very simply as a way to underscore just how big it is. i always think of this section from the poem "ten love letters", which i also once named a fic after: "Here is the truth: It is hard to be in love with someone who is in love with someone else. I don’t know how to turn that into poetry."

i adore the idea of an emotion or circumstance being so awful that you can't even put it into words--or you have to simplify it down into something smaller in order to swallow it. which uhhh i guess i should now relate to my own work since that was the question lol. i've probably written lines inspired by that idea countless times, but two examples from ch9 of constellations are "[annie] doesn't come back in thirty minutes" and juno's line about how there's no one left to water the flowers anymore. juno doesn't actually care about the flowers, but it's a way of turning his grief into something smaller, something that can be voiced and apologized for.

UHHHHH YEAH i guess that's it asiofjsif, sorry for how long it was. i was honestly feeling pretty down earlier but this ask really helped distract me and cheer me up, so thank you so much <3

[brandyovereager]

The Best Possible Arrangement

So excited to publish my first Kataang fic! I’ve been bouncing around ideas to write these two for a while now, and I finally finished something :)

Massive thanks to the beautiful @uh-ohspaghettio for all the encouragement and brainstorming sessions. This would not exist without her.

Read it on AO3

Summary: In an alternate universe where Katara and Aang never kissed or expressed their feelings for one another, Katara finds herself in an unpleasant situation. In order to be recognized as her father’s successor, the Tribe’s council decides she must be married. When faced with a group of undesirable suitors, Aang proposes an alternate solution that toys with emotions the two thought they’d suppressed years ago.

--

Katara was appalled.

It only took her a few seconds to go from appalled to near-seething.

After the war, the Northern and Southern Water Tribes developed a stronger relationship and many people in the Northern Tribe migrated down to live in the Southern. There was a more significant exchange of culture and ideas, contributing in part to the predicament Katara now found herself in.

Her father, Hakoda, had been chief of their tribe ever since she could remember. It had never affected her much, as in the South there wasn't much pomp and circumstance associated with the title. All it had ever meant was that when the men went off to fight in the war, her father was their leader.

The title of Chief in the Northern Tribe came with much more regalia, and with the post-war intermixing, the life of Katara's family had changed significantly.

They now lived in a palace, one bent out of ice by the best benders in the South Pole. Her presence was now requested at dinners and other receptions with foreign dignitaries. She was expected to dress often in finery unlike anything she was used to, draped across her by maidens specifically assigned as her attendants.

It was uncomfortable to say the least.

Katara was used to wearing clothing designed for function. It mattered more to her that she could bend in her outfits than that she looked elegant. She was used to informal activities and practicing her bending whenever and wherever she pleased. While she still did this to some extent, she now had to deal with pompous old men who found this unbefitting of a 'princess'.

She had no problem telling the sexist degenerates where to shove it, but this often got her (and her father) into trouble.

On top of all these unpleasantries that came with being the Chief's daughter, apparently there was something far more distasteful expected of her.

Sokka was the eldest of the two siblings, and the expected choice for Hakoda's heir. However, a month ago Sokka had pulled Katara aside and explained to her his wish to remain the Tribe's emissary, leaving her as their father's successor. Katara was more than happy to take Sokka's place--with their father’s full support--but the elderly misogynists on the council were not so pleased.

Since the siblings informed them of their intentions, the councilmen had been scrambling to find any reason to prevent Katara becoming Chief, and up until an hour ago it seemed they had come up with nothing. She should have known this would take more of a fight.

The roadblock they decided to place in her way: marriage. The council came to the agreement that she could not assume the mantle of heir while still unwed. They had called her into their chambers to tell her she was unfit to lead without a husband.

It was infuriating. She was sick to her stomach with how much she hated the very idea. It was degrading, sexist, and the perfect trap for them to undermine her. Her father agreed, and had spoken some choice words of his own to the councilmen, but they were unshakable.

She had two options in front of her: One, relinquish the title of heir to Sokka, who--being already married--was considered fit to lead by the council's new rule. Two, marry and have the council go behind her back and consult her husband on Chief's matters instead.

Becoming Chief didn't matter too much to Katara--she was only assuming the responsibility because Sokka didn't want it--but the councilmen's blatant prejudice against her made her determined to win. She would be Chief, and they would respect her as such, even if it meant she had to freeze each of them to their council seats.

---

By the time Katara got back to her room she was so worked up that she was likely to either scream or sob if someone even touched her. She was surprised to find someone waiting for her.

It was exactly who she wanted to see.

She didn’t know he was back yet, but she was overjoyed to see him right there in her bedroom.

Aang was her best friend. Growing up in the South Pole, the only one around her age was Sokka. The siblings were close, but she hadn’t had a real friend until they found Aang. Since then she had grown to love Toph, Suki, Zuko (begrudgingly), even Mai and Ty Lee, but Aang would always be her best friend. Katara doubted any other relationship she had would ever reach the level of connection she had with him. Their personalities were different in many ways, but they shared the same morals and unwavering hope that made them a perfect team. Even their differences complemented each other.

In the back of her mind Katara had always wondered what a relationship with him...of another kind...would be like. Would they connect so perfectly on that level as well? There had been times she thought he harbored feelings of that nature for her, but each moment Katara thought he was about to mention it, he didn’t. She’d since given up on such fantasies.

That didn’t stop her from wondering.

Despite spending the majority of her time in the South Pole, Katara never had to go too long without seeing Aang. He travelled often--required at various meetings and kerfuffles that occurred as the nations re-established peace--but he had a good percentage of time to himself. He chose to spend that time with her. His last venture had taken him to Ba Sing Se, where he was supposed to spend three weeks with stuffy diplomats, but he’d somehow managed to make it back in two. It was perfect timing.

He’d know how to handle this situation. There was no one she trusted more to do so. Whether he would help her find a solution, or simply comfort and ease her mind, she’d leave his presence better than when he found her. That’s just how it was with him.

Aang turned from where he was sitting on her bed to greet her with a smile, quickly fading into concern when he registered the look on Katara's face.

He immediately rose from the bed and engulfed her in a tight embrace. She buried her face into his chest, letting the tears start to fall as she took comfort in her best friend's hold.

It took some time, but she eventually calmed enough to explain the news she'd received in the council-room. She pulled back from Aang’s arms and sat on her bed--motioning for him to sit beside her. Soon enough, she was venting all of her emotions out to the airbender.

"They've managed to come up with a rule that ensures I will never truly lead the Tribe. No matter what I choose, they will never consider me their Chief. They will either cast me aside in favor of Sokka, or doom me to an unhappy marriage where I'll always be second to my husband in their eyes. Either way, they'll never respect me."

Somewhere in the middle of her talking, her tone turned from enraged to exhausted. It felt hopeless, like they'd managed to get her trapped.

Aang appeared thoughtful for a second, before grabbing her hand and looking steadily into her eyes.

"Becoming Chief, that is what you want, right?"

His voice was calm and firm, confirming her desires before he went on. She nodded her head.

"That's what Sokka and I decided. He and Suki wanted to continue their travels as emissaries and I want to stay here and help repair our tribe."

"Ok, then we're going to find a way for you to do that."

"One of the things I love about you is how hard you fight for what you want, no matter who tries to get in your way. When Pakku refused to teach you waterbending, you challenged him to a bending match in front of the whole tribe. When Sokka told you to stop healing the people in that Fire Nation village, you turned around and did it anyway. If you've decided to do something, there is no stopping you, and we're going to do the same with this."

"How, Aang? I have no good options here. As much as I might want to, I can't just waterbend all those arrogant men into recognizing me as my father's heir." That comment drew a chuckle from Aang.

"They did give you a way to become Chief, as unwelcome an option as it may be. It'll just take some searching to find a husband who won't try to undermine you."

"I don't exactly get much choice with that--another stupid tradition from the North--the noble young men of the tribe have to be given the opportunity to marry into the royal family. There would be a competition of sorts between them to see who 'earned' me as their wife." The disgust on her face was clear as she spoke the words.

It was terrible news though. Noblemen competing for her hand was just as demeaning as the council refusing to make a woman Chief. She would be treated like a prize. It was sickening.

It also meant that most of the young men there were sexist jerks themselves who only saw her as a path to higher status. Many of them would be happy to undermine her.

"That's awful, Katara." She gave a sad nod in acknowledgement.

"There is the possibility that one of the young men would make an acceptable husband." That elicited a small scoff from Katara, and a responding snicker from Aang.

"You can agree to meet them first, you know, before you decide? Just see what your options are before you give up on it. Then if you decide it's not worth it, you can leave being Chief to Sokka."

Aang began to softly rub his thumb back and forth on her hand. It was a familiar and comforting gesture.

"I know your choice seems terrible either way, but I'll be here to help make sure you end up with the option that makes you happy. You're not going to be doomed to a life you can't stand. We're going to find a way for you to be happy, no matter what, you got that?"

Katara felt his arms softly wrap around her and squeeze tight. From her cocoon within her best friend's chest she let out a soft "ok".

[justthehiddleswrites]

Destiny Has Other Plans | Loki x OFC (Alexis Randall) | Prologue

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him.  He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim.  An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond.  Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.  

After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds.  But it doesn’t mean he has to like it.   A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love.  Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life.  A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them.  Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst,  Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex

Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.  

-

“Your daughter seems quite taken with Loki.” Odin leaned over the side of his throne to comment to Freyr. The two glanced down at the two babies playing on the polished floor on the throne room in Vanaheim. The diplomatic trip had quickly devolved into a family reunion.

Freyr turned to smile at his cousin. “I was about to say the same thing to you about your young prince.”

Vanaheim and Asgard, although related by blood, shared a tenuous relationship. Wars plagued their history and more men, and women, had died than either king would like to admit. The two kings shared a knowing glance.

“Are you suggesting what I think you are, Freyr?” Odin smirked.

“I have suggested nothing.” The other king smiled.

“Perhaps our kingdoms could strengthen their bond through those two.” Odin stated.

“I’m listening.”

Frigga overheard the kings speaking in hushed tones. Gerth, Freyer’s wife, noticed as well how the two men gestured at the two babies. Frigga hoped Loki and Sjofn would become friends and companions, as they were both royal heirs to two of the most powerful kingdoms within the Nine Realms. She feared Odin’s wish was more diplomatic and more destructive.

“I do not like how our husbands seem to be speaking of the young ones.” Frigga leaned to whisper to Gerth.

Gerth furrowed her brow. “I agree. You don’t believe they would—”

Odin stood and knocked his specter against the hard floor. The sound echoed throughout the entire cavernous hall.

“The prince and the princess shall be wed upon the coming of age of young Sjofn, uniting the kingdoms of Vanaheim and Asgard!”

Freyr beamed next to Odin, soon standing to join him. The men clapped themselves on the shoulders, quite pleased with themselves as their wives gazed upon them horrified.

“Dear husband,” Frigga weaved her arm with Odin. “don’t you think it would be wise to not rush our son into an arranged marriage. Vanaheim and Asgard are at peace.”

“Do you question my judgment, Frigga? Yes, there is peace now, but its foundation is weak and unstable. Any slight could send us into another war. A war that would cost us the lives of many Asgardians.”

“I do not question you, Odin. I merely caution against toying with the affections of our sons and his future when he is not even old enough to voice opposition, let alone able to walk away from such an arrangement.”

Odin scoffed. “You fret over the boy. I am certain he will come to love the girl as much as I have learned to love.”

He kissed Frigga’s cheek. A peal of laughter cut the tension in the room, as Gerth argued with Freyr a few steps away. Four heads snapped to see Loki blowing kisses with his tiny chubby hand. Sjofn giggled each time, rocking as she sat.

“See?” Freyr gestured to the two of them. “They are already bonding. When will you women learn that we know best? Come Odin, I am in need of some fresh air and to stretch my legs. Leave our wives to coddle and fret over the babes.”

Odin laughed and followed Freyr out of the room, pleased the both of them. Frigga and insert crossed their arms.

“I will learn to listen when you actually do know what is best when it comes to matters of the heart.” Frigga scooped up Loki to cuddle him. “My darling son, I hope you find your true love, despite Father’s best efforts to prevent that.”

A Half Millennium Later

“Sjofn!” Loki called for her attention. Sjofn glanced up from her book with a look of annoyance.

“Yes?” Her voice dripped with disdain, uncharacteristic for someone so young.

“Check this out.” Loki twisted his hands and transformed himself into a snake for a few moments before returning to his Aesir form. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Hm.” Sjofn mumbled before returning to her studies.

Loki pressed his arms against his hips, huffing. “I would like to see you try.”

Sjofn waved one hand, holding her book with the other, and turned Loki into a snake, and then a frog, and then a squirrel, before returning him to his normal form. Loki stood before her, stunned. She giggled at the dumbfounded expression.

“What?” Her lips curled into a smile. “I’ve been doing that spell before I could walk.” Loki’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you just learn that?” Sjofn pushed back her soft brown hair from her eyes. “That’s so cute.”

“It’s not cute. I am a powerful sorcerer.” Loki’s voice holding a twinge of a whine.

“Yes, it is cute. It’s adorable.” Sjofn set her book down and stomped toe to toe with Loki. Even though she was older, Loki stood a full head taller than her. “In fact, it is hilarious you fancy yourself a powerful sorcerer.”

Loki stared into her light blue eyes. If he wasn’t so incensed, the mischief reflecting in her eyes would amuse him.

“Are you insinuating I’m not?” Loki puffed himself to his full height.

Sjofn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was no stranger to young boys and men trying to impress her. Her friends said they wished to catch her eye and win her heart, her hand in marriage, and all the power and prestige that goes with it.

“I will never marry.” Sjofn declared as she repeated the exchange to her mother over dinner that night. Her father was absent on a diplomatic trip.

“A funny statement coming from the goddess of relationships and love.” Gerth chuckled.

“I have not assumed my duties yet. Besides, who says I must wed in order fulfill those duties.”

“True.” Gerth smiled slyly. She had once said the same things to her mother. How quickly things changed when it came to matters of love. “But do not discard away things until you have experienced it.”

Sjofn rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“I am insinuating nothing. I am flat out saying it. You are not a powerful sorcerer. We teach these spells to Vanir toddlers.”

Loki’s face flitted between crestfallen and furious. “Not all of us are naturally gifted. Some of us have to work at our craft.”

Sjofn spun on her heels, the tips of her hair brushing against Loki’s chest. “Perhaps if you spent as much time studying and practicing your craft as you did on drinking, pranks, and romancing the young maidens, you would be the sorcerer you claim to be.”

Loki yelled in frustration. “You are impossible. There is no pleasing you.”

“Who says I need to be pleased?” She resumed prone position on the sofa.

Loki stalked towards her, his hips swayed. “Everyone desires pleasure, dove. Have you not read that in your books?”

Sjofn’s cheeks burned as Loki gazed down at her. He licked his lips, teasing. “Perhaps you need the right teacher.”

“You?!? I would rather kiss a snake.”

“That can be arranged.”

Sjofn stood up and stormed away. “I do not understand why our families insist on these little get-togethers. It is clear we have nothing in common.”

Loki laughed. “Well, you’re wrong. Because I agree with you about that, so we have that in common.”

“Good then, you stay out of my way and I will stay out of yours.”

“That is the first smart thing you have ever said to me.” The two parted ways.

With each visit to either world, the only feeling that grew between the two of them was disdain. Sjofn delighted in dressing down Loki, mocking his magic skills. Loki, meanwhile, taunted Sjofn at every turn. He enjoyed watching her pale skin reddened at his lewd comments. They hated the forced interactions but said nothing to their parents for fear of any reprisal.

Yet Another Half Millennium Later

The moment Sigrun entered the court, she captivated Loki. Word soon spread that the young prince sought to court the fair-haired maiden. The other young suitors backed off. Without the official blessing of the King, it forced Loki and Sigrun to court in secret. A horribly kept secret, but secret just the same. As the years passed, everyone in the palace expected an announcement regarding their betrothal at every ball or palace dinner. But no announcement was made. Loki and Sigrun grew more bold in their couplings.

“My prince.” Sigrun giggled. “They will find us.”

Loki nipped at her swollen lips. His entire body pressed hers against the cold stone of the pillar in the palace hallway. “That makes it all the much better. The thrill of being caught.” Loki’s cock strained against his leather pants. His hips bucking against her. She let loose a soft whimper.

“Loki…” she moaned as her hands tugged at his pants, struggling to free him. “I need you.”

Loki kissed her hard, his tongue demanding. Her hands freed him as Loki rucked up her skirt.

“My darling, Sigrun.” Loki cooed. “And I need you.”

As he plunged himself into her, Sigrun gasped, her head hitting the hard stone pillar.

“Yes, my love.” she moaned.

Loki snapped hard against her. “That’s it. Mold around my cock, sweet dove. You are so wet.”

Loki grabbed Sigrun’s leg, hooking it around his waist.

“Please Loki.” Sigrun pleaded as her orgasm drew close. “I need to…”

“Come undone for me, my sweet.” Loki adjusted his body to thrust deep into her, hitting that sweet spot.

Sigrun’s nails dug into Loki’s shoulders as she came. Her walls clenched around Loki. He soon followed her, spilling into her. Loki pressed his forehead against her.

He kissed her sweetly. “I love you, Sigrun.” Loki smoothed back her disheveled golden curls.

Her arms wrapped around her neck, burying her head into the crook. “And I love you.”

Loki’s heart swelled. “Then be mine. For always.”

Sigrun pulled back, staring at Loki in shock.

“Are you asking—”

“Marry me.” Loki’s nose nudged along her cheek, pecking along the smooth skin. “Be my wife.”

“But what of your father, he would need to approve of the union?” Her brows knitted together.

Loki’s lips pressed where the frown lines marred Sigrun’s face. “Leave Odin to me. Now is the answer yes?”

Sigrun hugged him tight. “Yes, yes, of course I will marry you.” She hopped in place.

Loki smiled down at her. “I will speak to him tonight after dinner.” He kissed her one more time. “I will come for you and we will celebrate properly. In my bedchambers.”

Sigrun shivered in anticipation. “Yes, my prince.”

Loki groaned. “You know what that does to me, sweet.” His hands fisted her dress. “I shall have to take you again, if you continue to speak in such a manner.”

Sigrun giggled. “I shall keep that in mind. But if I am gone much longer, they will notice my absence.” She did her best to straighten her hair and clothes and kissed his cheek. “Until tonight, my love.”

Loki’s hand held hers as she walked away, his fingers slipping away when she stepped out of range. He smiled, focused on her until she disappeared from sight.

-

“Absolutely not. I can not approve of this union.” Odin retorted cooly from his throne to Loki, who stood before him.

“Why not?” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Lady Sigrun is of noble blood. Her family is favored within the palace. I should think it would please you to see me settling down.” Loki lowered his voice. “Unlike Thor.”

“Your brother’s love life has no relevance in this matter. Lady Sigrun is a fine match.” Odin gripped his specter tighter, expecting a fight. “Just not for you.”

“And again I ask, why not?” Loki quickly grew more infuriated by the second.

“You are already betrothed.”

Loki blinked in disbelief. “I don’t recall proposing to another. Tell me, Father, who am I set to…” Loki’s face narrowed in realization. “… It’s Sjofn. What have you done, Father?!”

“Joined two kingdoms. Strengthened our rule.”

“By promising me to a woman I barely know?!”

“Because you choose not to learn anything about her! Sjofn will be your wife when she comes of age. That is the end of the discussion.”

Tears welled in Loki’s eyes. “And I get no say in the matter?! While Thor is allowed to whore around with whoever he chooses?”

“Has anyone stopped you from seeking the comfort of whatever young maiden caught your eye?”

“ Thor may marry for love, I can not?”

“Precisely. Your mother and I were not a love match. I imagine you too can learn to love Sjofn in time. And I expect you to behave on their next trip here in the coming weeks.”

“And if I don’t?” Loki spat out the words. If he dared, he would strike Odin. Hot tears stung his eyes. “If I refuse to marry her?”

Odin sighed. He had hoped Loki would approach the whole matter with a calm and collected manner. “You would be banished. For the good of the Nine Realms.”

Loki huffed before spinning on his heel. “Well, we wouldn’t want something as insignificant as your son’s happiness to interfere with the good of the Realm. Would we?” He slammed the door behind him, stomping off to his chambers.

He did not call for Sigrun that night. Or the next. Or even the next. Finally, on the fourth day, he sent a note indicating he no longer wished to marry her. Loki cruelly gave no further explanation, believing it would be better if Sigrun thought he rejected her rather than the truth.

-

“Why must I go to Asgard, Father?” Sjofn whined as her maids packed her luggage for the weeklong stay.

“Because it is your duty as my daughter to entertain other kingdoms.” Freyr sighed.

These trips between Vanaheim and Asgard tired both him and Sjofn. While Freyr and Odin hoped frequent contact between the two would spark something. They had not planned on that something being contempt.

Sjofn delighted in insulting Loki, particularly his magic prowess. While Loki ignored Sjofn entirely, his eye wandered to the nearest young maiden instead.

“Then why must I spend the trip entertaining Loki? Couldn’t I hang out with Sif or even Thor instead? Loki is such a bore.” Sjofn rolled her eyes and flopped down on her bed, hair crowning her head. “Or better yet, can we just tell them I am sick and unable to travel? I would much rather stay and be with my friends. People whose company I enjoy.”

Freyr’s patience gave out. “ENOUGH!!” Sjofn jolted upright. “You will accompany me to Asgard and I don’t want to hear another word about it!”

Gerth came alongside Freyr, placing her hand on his arm. His shoulders relaxed at the touch. “Tell her, darling. She has a right to know.”

Freyr nodded as Sjofn panicked.

“Tell me what? What have you done, Father?” She stood and walked towards her father, suspicious.

Freyr cleared his throat, tugging his tunic straight. “You’re old enough to know, but learn to like Loki, your future happiness depends on it.”

“Why?” Her head cocked to the side.

“Because you are promised to him.” Freyr winced for the outburst.

Those words hung in the air heavy as Freyr’s voice bounced off the walls of Sjofn’s bedchamber. She stumbled back as if shot until the backs of her legs hit her bed and she fell onto it. She muttered unintelligible gibberish.

“What did you do?” she hissed, narrowing her at her father, the king.

Hiding his fear of what his daughter might do, Fryer pulled to his full height and puffed out his chest. “I did what I needed to do to strengthen and protect our kingdom. An alliance with the Asgardians only benefits us?”

“By selling away your daughter’s heart and happiness?” Sjofn growled, her voice growing louder by the minute.

“By making a strategic relationship decision beneficial to all of us.” He stepped back and Sjofn rose to her feet.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Sjofn screeched. “I am not marrying Loki! I do not love him.”

“Since when does love have any sort of place in marriage?! You will not speak to me that way!” Freyr fired back. “I am not only the king of Vanaheim, but your father. I demand respect!”

Tears streamed down Sjofn’s face. “Respect is earned, Father! Never demanded! How could you? To your own daughter?!” She collapsed upon the bed, sobbing.

Freyr stood silent for a moment, sharing a glance with Gerth. “We leave in the morning. I expect you to be ready on time.” He turned on his heel and left Gerth in the room to comfort Sjofn.

Gerth sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her daughter’s back.

“Your father means well.”

“Did you know, Mother?” she snapped back.

Gerth nodded sadly. “Frigga and I tried to convince Odin and your father to reconsider. Allow you and Loki to grow to like each other naturally. To see if a love match could be made. But you know how it is when your father makes up his mind.”

Sjofn chuckled through her tears. “You would have better luck trying to capture the morning light in a jar.”

Gerth smiled. “Indeed. Is Loki really all that bad?”

Sjofn harumped to sit next to her mother, wiping away her tears. “He is arrogant, smug, and conceited. Loki cares more about what is between a woman’s legs than between her ears.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“You seem to be awfully perceptive about a man you despise.” Gerth couldn’t resist commenting, earning an eye roll.

“I only notice because it is impossible to ignore.”

“Whatever you say.” She kissed her forehead. “I will make your excuses for dinner, but you will have to travel tomorrow.”

Sjofn nodded, the tears threatening to fall once again.

“Try to find the positive of the situation.” Gerth commented before rising to leave. “Perhaps Loki is not the cad you make him out to be.”

“Yes, mother.”

Sjofn waited until she was certain her mother had left before hurling her pillow at the door.

“Fat fucking chance.”

-

Loki noticed Sjofn’s puffy and bloodshot eyes the next morning as he waited to receive her and her father.

“Have you been crying after me, darling?” His voice sounded sincere, but his smirk betrayed his true intentions.

Sjofn snapped back, in no mood to tangle with him. “Do not flatter yourself. If you must know, I was informed we are to wed.”

“Unhappy news indeed. I am afraid I was informed as well of our intended betrothal. Allow me to put your mind at ease, I have no intentions of marrying you.”

“Did you think I would marry you?! I knew you were arrogant, I did not realize you were stupid too.” Sjofn sneered.

Loki grabbed her and pulled her close. “Keep your voice down. I have plans already in motion to ensure my father no longer wields his power over me or any other subject. I would suggest we go along with this ruse until my plans are complete. Then you will be free to marry or not.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

Loki only smiled in response.

[adoredontour]

all the fics i read and loved this month, in order from longest to shortest!

For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December) by green_feelings @greenfeelings 128k

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove 124k

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore 113k

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

nothing worsens, nothing grows by soldouthaz @soldouthaz 102k

and he sits there quietly with harry’s headphones in his ears while his eyes begin to close, totally unaware that he’s listening to the soundtrack of harry falling in love with him.

or, another roadtrip au featuring harry as the misunderstood hipster, louis as the bitter psych major, liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

& more under the cut!

Follow Your Arrow by bitter_leaf @bitter-leaf 78k

Harry was the golden child, blessed in every way; Niall was the charming miscreant, a bad boy; Liam was the future-son-in-law parents of daughters dreamt of, and Zayn was the kid parents wished was their son. But Louis, Harry thought, Louis was the special one.

It's senior year and everything is about to change.

somethin’ bout you by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 59k

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

The Recklessness in Water by LarryOn @larryonsimon 50k

Louis Tomlinson is miserable. He's stuck on a family vacation at a lake cabin in New Hampshire when all he wants to do is bemoan his sorry existence and wallow in his sweatpants. As if the humidity and mosquitos weren't bad enough, he becomes the singular target of an obnoxious lifeguard named Harry.

Missed Connection by littlelouishiccups @littlelouishiccups 39k

Soulmate AU where your soulmate’s first words to you are tattooed on your skin.

With a boring and generic soul mark like Hi, Harry is pessimistic he’ll ever find his soulmate or that he’ll realize it when he meets them. But he could always have it worse, like his new friend Louis who had a drunken one night stand with his soulmate a few years ago and woke up the next morning alone.

before we knew by falsegoodnight @risthebrave 39k

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

what’s mine is yours to make your own by soldouthaz @soldouthaz 39k

sometimes, the closest harry ever feels to home is louis. it's their shared hotel rooms on tour, their shoes toed off in the doorway next to each other, jackets hung on the same post.

it's everything he doesn't notice until it's been taken away from him.

And Touch Me Like You Never by runaway_train @runaway-train-works 35k

“Lets move back a bit yeah?” Harry clutches at his waist with a free hand and tugs him to move through the crowd until they are almost at the back of the group and settles them both beside the far wall. “There. That better?”

Louis looks up at him, as if he’s a tad dazed. “Uh, yeah, thanks. Can’t really see much from back here either though.”

Harry lifts a shoulder and grins at him, placing a hand on the wall behind Louis to pen him in. “We’ll just have to create our own fireworks then, won’t we?” He says it jokingly with a wink, and Louis laughs but he seems nervous. He must know that Harry is harmlessly flirting. Harry flirts with everyone after all, including Louis.

“Do you think this is a good idea Haz?” Louis asks quietly, almost too quietly in the clamour of the room, his head bowed as he scuffs his shoe on the carpet.

“Stop over thinking it Lou, it’s one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Or

The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other's New Year's kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.

last blues for bloody knuckles by creamcoffeelou @2ofusmp4

Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.

He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.

A mob au.

like it’s a game by soldouthaz @soldouthaz 32k

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

gathered on wings by Brooklyn_Babylon @twopoppies 32k

As Harry lay by Louis’ side, covered in sweat and come, he knew he should feel ugly, messy, ruined, like the life he’d left behind. But something about the way Louis looked at him, the way his eyes stared at him with want and awe, made Harry wonder if he’d ever feel this beautiful again.

Harry rolled his eyes at himself for his momentary romantic dreaminess. As good as this was, he knew it was nothing more than sex. He literally couldn’t afford to fall for just anyone, no matter how fit they were.

-----

What Harry Styles wanted was to be taken seriously as an artist. What he needed was a new sugar daddy to pave the way. Louis Tomlinson is an artist who isn’t what Harry is looking for. Somehow he still manages to turn Harry's world upside down.

let’s make a thing of cream and stars by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 24k

It doesn't explain why he's lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of him.

As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. Also the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Louis' wet dreams since he was about eighteen.

(Or: Louis is a Radio 1 DJ and Harry is a pop-star he interviews.)

Strong Enough by jacaranda_bloom @jacaranda-bloom 21k

The biggest obstacle is still in place, firmly ensconced as a roadblock, cemented in their path and preventing them from moving forward. The thing is, it’s not actually Harry that’s the problem. Harry, for all his faults, for whatever decisions he’s made to lead to him to where he is in his life right now, would move heaven and earth and all that’s in between to help Liam, to support him. No. It’s Louis. He’s the one that has to reach out. He’s the one that has to let go and get the fuck over himself. It’s been five years for Christ's sake. It’s time to move on and suck it up.

“So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad that it’s Liam that drags the subject out from the shadows and into the world. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?”

Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

you flower, you feast by stylinsoncity @aliensingucci 18k

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

The Orchards of Jessop by jaerie @jaerie 15k

At age 40, there isn’t much excitement in widower Louis Tomlinson’s life, but wasn’t that the reason he’d moved to Jessop Island in the first place? Back then he hadn’t thought retiring before he reached 30 and moving to the countryside would mean that he’d be doing it alone. Now, just to fill the space, he welcomes lodgers into his home that pass through working as temporary labourers at the orchards just up the road. They’ve all been young adults eager to start lives of their own after one last summer of freedom.

All of them have been much the same, coming and going from Louis’ house with just enough social interaction to keep the house from feeling so empty. But when a global pandemic shuts down the world, being quarantined with a quiet twenty year old who keeps to himself might turn out to be an awkward arrangement. By the time the restrictions have been lifted, their relationship has developed into something Louis isn’t quite ready to give up. With their twenty year age difference, Louis has to be prepared for the inevitable outcome when the reality shatters the private world they’ve been living in. He’s not sure he’ll be able to let it go.

if i had the chance, the things i would do to you by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 14k

Niall sighs. He leans forward, pushing his mug of tea carefully to the side, before bracing his elbows on the table, chin in his hands. It makes him look like some sort of bottle-blonde cherub. "You have quite the fanbase, Harry. I'm not denying that. And you've done a good job of popping out every once in a while in the past two years, just to make sure you're still talked about. But that's all you've done, and I'm not satisfied. I want more." He blinks at Harry. "Don't you want more?"

(Or: AU where Harry and Louis compete in the Lip Sync Battle)

One Way Road To Something Better by femstyles @femstyles 12k

Four years ago when Louis and Harry moved in together, Louis promised Anne that he’d take care of Harry no matter what. But things don’t always go as planned, and sometimes risky choices have to be made.

Inspired by Don't Let It Break Your Heart

baby look what you’ve done to me by ballsdeepinjesus 9k

The next day kind of turns everything upside down, though. Louis gets another lingerie catalogue addressed to Harry. He’s about to toss it when he sees a personalized note stuck to the front; it thanks Harry for his previous purchases and offers him a complimentary six-month subscription to their magazine free of charge. It’s a unisex lingerie catalogue. Lingerie specifically designed to allow for the existence of penises, apparently, judging from the bulging cocks covered in lace that he sees as he flips through the pages. His breath catches in his throat at the thought of a faceless Harry -- mysterious, odd Harry -- dressed up in his purchases, whatever they may be.

He thinks he needs a lie down, to be honest.

[louis moves into harry's old flat. harry gets a lot of mail.]

golden hearts (light their way back down) by fairytalelights @lookslikefairytale 4k

“..So, top or bottom?” Louis asks when Harry tunes back in. And... what? Harry knew he should have been paying more attention but he has no idea how in the hell Louis explaining camp rules to him could have led to discussing sexual preferences this quickly. He must have smiled and nodded at the wrong place one too many times.

or, the one where Harry’s first day as a summer camp counsellor doesn’t go quite as planned.

Still, Somehow, You’re Perfect Now  by FallingLikeThis @fallinglikethis 3k

Harry Styles is Captain of the footie team and all-around popular dude-bro-pal to the entire senior class. He’s kind to everyone from what Louis Tomlinson can tell, and kinder still when he thinks no one is looking. Of course, Louis has been looking. Ever since he transferred schools at the beginning of the year and noticed Harry for the first time, it’s been hard to look away.

All My Friends Are Here by abrighteryellow 

He is about to decline, though. If he has to sit through forced merriment, the least he can do is avoid participation at all costs. He is about to, but then the guy with the microphone is looking out into the crowd. He’s saying things, too — about rules and prizes and team names. At least, Louis assumes so. He can’t really hear him over the ringing in his ears.

“Alright, mate. I’ll play.”

A pub quiz has invaded Louis’s favorite dive. Fortunately, it comes with a charming host.

Front porch and one more kiss by Femstyles @femstyles <1k

A goodnight kiss on a front porch

BONUS: (rereads)

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry @isthatyoularry 136k

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Close to Nowhere by angelichl @angelichl 34k

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

led by your beating heart by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 24k

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any helpful right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

[waveypedia]

going off on the emulator thing but it is so strange how the rich higher ups at nintendo or any other big gaming company try so hard to prevent people from emulating games but at the same time try to pretend some more older games or gaming series don't exist but get mad that people emulate them hmm

tbh i love a lot of nintendo's gaming franchises like mario, zelda, kirby, earthbound/mother, pokemon, and animal crossing but i just hate how the greedy higher ups and how they try to shut down emulators (which makes gaming a whole heck a lot accessible) and overprice their games which makes it hard for fans who want to buy it hard to get and how they make their game developers rush their games just to appease the deadline and and even their own older games aren't safe from being hard to play if you want to play it on a console and getting it used for example there was a kirby game for gamecube i saw going for 80$!!! and a mario game for 120$!!! like jesus

if i was a game developer and i saw people playing my game on a console and an emulator i wouldn't be mad at the person who downloaded it on the computer i just be happy that they are playing my game because who knows if they enjoy my game there are more fans and people to talk about my game!!

sorry for the rant lmao

Don’t be sorry! I feel the same way! Besides it’s always nice to know people read my tags djdkskkdd and I always love getting asks!

You made a lot of good points here! It’s all about the money, really. It always is :/ It must tie back to companies viewing piracy as a monetary loss when it’s really not because those people weren’t already paying for a product so it’s only a potential loss. But in a situation like this where old consoles are discontinued and go for really high online (which doesn’t even give the company money anyway so they’re not losing any potential either way) they’re just… not available. It makes me so mad too I wish they were all accessible! And exactly emulators help a lot with that! If I were a game developer I’d feel exactly the same way but they’re not usually the ones making the decisions to pull games and consoles from the market or setting unreasonable deadlines for their coworkers/employees. It’s usually the higher-ups who don’t do any of the actual work on the game and get the most profit. Ughhh ig sucks. Luckily there are still good emulators out there if you look! I’m using Citra rn (found the game file elsewhere) for a 3ds game (they might have more consoles but im not sure) and I met a few roadblocks but I was able to work around them. Hopefully it stays that way. Theoretically the point of video games should be that everyone can play them but no it’s about money I guess.

[twixtandshout]

Tagged by @pidgeonpostal! And not tagging anyone else because I have SOILED the original template (soiled it!!) in deference to my [brushes off skirt] mostly clean public-facing appearance.

...I’ve been making a lot of Spongebob memes lately for someone who has not seen Spongebob.

How many works do you have on AO3?

71!

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

...306,834. Jesus.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Uh. Many! I do a lot of one-offs (and/or start long things I never finish) in many different places. My top three fandoms by fics written are RWBY (29), Undertale (25), Gravity Falls/Transcendence AU (4).

Bet you can’t tell where my hyperfixations have fallen. 

I’ve also got some Pokémon and Sonic the Hedgehog fics back on my ff.net account, or I think I still do, anyway, but let’s never go back there pls

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Sweeter Than Honey (Undertale): Taking a Completely unsurprising first place, with over 600 more kudos than the runner-up, the haphazard Underswap fic featuring a post-college self-insert I wrote just after high school! I shake my head some at how overblown and ridiculous the gap between this and all my other stuff is (c’mon, guys, I’ve written way better fics), but this is also the fic which prompted me (and at least one other person!) to start using they/them pronouns. I’ve gotten a lot of really sweet comments about how seen and appreciated it’s made people feel, so I can’t get down too far about it.

2. To Be A Hero (BNHA): I don’t count myself as part of the BNHA fandom, for a number of reasons, but for something that’s arguably the main motivation for the entire plot, Midoriya’s quirklessness is something I’ve never thought has been handled well. This fic marked the first time I (somewhat tentatively) claimed the disability label (thanks again to Sweeter Than for prompting that realization) to hold that lens over canon. It also really shot up my chart, dang! It’s the only thing here I’d consider “recent.”

3. Three-Sentence Shipping (Undertale): Self-explanatory.

4. Brothers Beyond Bonedaries (Undertale): Ah, the way-overcomplicated AU³ I got nowhere close to finishing. One of the things I really like about Undertale is the interface screw, how Toby Fox uses the medium of the video game to pull off crazy things and enhance his game, but most of the fic written for the fandom seems dedicated to explaining it away, grounding it, rather than taking it to the next step and messing with the medium of fanfiction when you keep the story going. I tried to do something cool like that here, playing with questions like narrator and authorship and breaking the fourth wall, even taking the “final boss” fight to a “totally separate” fic reached through the first by link – but, well, then I never finished it, which probably didn’t make anything less confusing for the poor folks who missed the intent.

5. Spirit and Such (Gravity Falls: Transcendence AU): A whole fic written to line out a particular image I had, which, naturally, never made it to the page. I consider it a bit of a cautionary tale for myself when it comes to writing (near-)original content; there’s a lot I look back on and cringe. I still love the characters, though – well, the important ones – and I think just stepping away from the tried-and-true Mizar formula nets it a star sticker here.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

>w>; I try, but a lot of the time I just don’t have anything to say? Like, oh, you liked it? Neat. There’s not much to respond to in comments like that, and then I’m weighing falling down on an ~obligation~ to respond to every message in my inbox vs annoying people with copy-paste fluff responses all down the page. Plus I know I make more of an effort to comment on things that didn’t get the attention I feel they deserve, so if I’m driving up my own comment count with nonsense, am I preventing myself from being in a position to receive more comments later? And then if I do comment, am I being too effusive or running people’s ears off explaining things they don’t actually need to know? Sometimes people just want to express interest or admiration and don’t necessarily want a whole peek and guided tour behind the curtain.

Can you tell I have anxiety? x3;

Anyway, I do respond when I can. And I keep most of the comments I’ve gotten to go back and reread. 

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm, hmm. Lots of stuff in the TQ Nonsense series would probably qualify! I’m thinking of Unfixable, Wolfsong, and Ethanol. And there’s Bursting Through A Blood-Red Sky (I Can Live, I Can Breathe), of course, but that was always intended to have a fix-it epilogue. It’s just that I wrote it in a couple of hours day-of, stared at it, and decided I didn’t wanna just then. But now that’s As Long As You’re Still Burning Bright (I’m Still Awake), and that’s probably the best romance I’ve written, so that one worked out.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Now and then! When the urge strikes. Uhhh, I’ve got a series of Doctor Who x Undertale crossovers I actually made a whole dang verse for that never made it to print. Get a couple great comments on that every few months or so. I think the World Trigger x Undertale crossover is probably weirder, though, by virtue of WT being a very small fandom. My enthusiasm kinda sputtered out on that one.

Mostly I just daydream crossovers with whatever happens to catch my eye at any given moment. I have a lot!!!! Though odds are out on whether I manage to remember any of them once the initial thought’s passed, lol.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Gotten a couple eyebrow-raising comments, but I think mostly I’m just too small a writer to draw that kind of attention.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t? think so? Think my tastes are a little niche for most people to bother ^^;

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone apologize once for any language mistakes in their comment cause they had to run it through a translator! That’s not what you asked (the answer is no), but it’s very flattering to think that someone liked my fic enough to read and comment despite the language barrier.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! :D @pidgeonpostal was gracious enough to agree to co-write Five Nights at Denny’s with me off an idea about shoes. This has fulfilled a long-held dream of mine (collabing with someone, not the shoes) and also introduced me to some lovely people.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Who has time for just one? ;3c Honestly, I care more about the characters and how the relationship – any relationship – between them changes them than I do about ~A Ship~ as a solid, bounded noun-object. I’ve got characters I like more and less and feelings about who does and doesn’t have chemistry in which directions with whom, but finding anything that agrees with those preferences is hard, harder when you take alloromanticism into account. I’ll play in any sandbox with cool toys, especially if other folks have already built sick sandcastles there.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

[kicks every single unfinished fic further under the bed] What nooo no WIPs here, everything on my account is either finished or does not exist

I’ve got a couple extra chapters of Sweeter Than floating around unposted, but 1. that fic’s a mess 2. high school Twixt and post-college Twixt are different people and trying to contort myself into three other me-shapes just cause people Like this fic is not something I’m super interested in 3. it’s headed for an emotional dip and I’d rather leave it where it is than post two chapters, stall out again, and leave folks with a bad end.

As for other fics... it’s looking more and more likely that v7 of my Yellow Brick Road AU will never actually make it out. >w>; I’ve got some really great ideas, but not enough to make me feel like I know what I’m doing, and that’s a big roadblock. Plus trying to engage with RT’s Atlas-Mantle worldbuilding in any serious capacity is... a headache. I can’t recommend the Happy Huntress Cinematic Universe enough, but it leaves some pretty big shoes to follow! And I’ve got small feet. <w<;

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue’s fun, probably as an extension of characterization. I love tearing into what makes people tick, especially against the backdrop of their environment, the story they’re in, and the people they’re up against. Voice is a double-edged sword; I’ve been told my writing is really recognizable and individual, but on the other hand, I’ve been growing frustrated with with the limits of my narrative ability. There’s a strong rhythm I keep when I write (you might notice it here, even) but that leaves me feeling predictable and stale. I’m not sure I’m great at setting as a matter of course, but I’m pretty good at describing setpieces where the need comes up; that comes from my background in poetry, as does the fun I have with sublimating and abstracting complex imagery. And I think I bring some needed nuance to the universal. For good or ill, I don’t do what “everyone else” is doing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Well, writing, for one thing. If I don’t know how something’s going to go and don’t have the urge to write it, it isn’t getting done, which means there’s a billion things that will never see the page and a few hundred more that are never getting finished. I lose momentum easily and have a hard time getting started, and I put way too much standing on finding a foothold with other people; as critical as I am of my work, I have high expectations for the stuff that passes muster, and it never seems to measure up. I’m also really uncreative. Yeah, I can mix up elements and extrapolate events, but coming up with things wholesale is really hard, which is why I avoid it wherever possible and steal/reskin stuff from other places instead.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Something along the lines of “Hoo boy, I am Not qualified for this but hopefully it’s decent anyway.” Maria’s Spanish lines haven’t been a big deal – I’ve used it sparingly and, as a Latin language, it should be easy for English-speaking audiences to pick up on the gist – but I’ve had a harder time with Tai’s Chinese, both because I have Even Less background there and because it is, of course, an entirely different language system. If I write it out in English or Romanized italics, am I colonizing it or changing the meaning? If I write it out in the presumed-original characters (presumed because it’s Google Translate and who knows if I’m even barking in the right forest), am I confusing or alienating my presumed-majority-English-speaking audience? Where should I put the translations? Should I put the translations? And for Frisk’s sign language, thinking back, are the brackets I used instead of quotes alienating/infantilizing? I like that different characters give the text between a different feel, but I’m not an ASL speaker – and I’m pretty sure the word is “speaker,” which would only reinforce that that demographic would rather I didn’t do that. It’s important for all these characters, I think, that they use non-English language where it makes sense; it’s part of who they are. But as a white monolingual English-speaker, I don’t think I can really weigh in.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Thaaaat’d be Pokémon, followed closely with Sonic the Hedgehog. Whether those fics are still on my ff.net account or not (pretty sure I’ve purged them, but you never know) I’ve still got a couple saved to a folder on my current laptop, ostensibly so I can look back and see how far I’ve come and more practically to allow for the possibility of furthering group cohesion through public shaming.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I still like the idea behind The Man Who Is Atlas, and Burning Bright (Still Awake) gets props for being my current fic, though it’s currently in that spot where I’m excited to get new chapters posted but also quietly marking everything up in red pen. I think Harbinger gets the crown here, at least for now.

[askkrenko]

Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Farfetch’d line

Sometimes a Pokemon is designed to be a playable thing, but just doesn’t mesh right and so winds up a bit weak. Sometimes a Pokemon’s designed to be an interesting early game choice that caps out fast and stops being useful late game. And sometimes some jackass in Vermillion City scams you into trading a perfectly usable Spearow for a useless duck that’s only useful as dinner that you can’t even eat.

DESIGN:  

Paradoxically, the worst part of Farfetch’d is that is design is SO COOL.  Farfetch’d has huge wing-hands and a leek weapon so despite just being a duck it looks like it’ll kick your ass. Farfetch’d looks like something that would stare down a Legendary and insist he’s got this, and then somehow actually pull it off. Farfetch’d is awesome. So why is this a problem? Because it can’t put its money where its mouth is. It looks badass, but it sucks. Usually you can tell how strong a Pokemon is roughly by how it looks. Farfetch’d looks like the hero, but it’s a total zero. Galarian Farfetch’d is basically the same design, but with an even bigger leek. Also it’s darker. On the one hand, I’m disappointed that there’s not much more interesting about it, but on the other hand, why mess with a good thing? Galarian Farfetch’d just looks like a slower, stronger Farfetch’d using a big two-handed weapon.

And then we’ve got Sirfetch’d. Now, overall, I do like Sirfetch’d’s design. Its leek is grown larger, cut into sword and shield, and it wields them as a proper knight. It stands upright straight and tall, and is pure white, looking less like a scrappy badass and now like a proper hero. My big problem with Sirfetch’d is actually a symptom of my problem with the line as a whole: its coloration and stance make it look like an evolution for the Johtonian Farfetch’d (not Kantonian- there’s no wild population there), not the Galarian one.  Galar’s Farfetch’d are clearly two-handed power attack builds, while Johtonian Farfetch’d could easily go from one-handed sword to sword and board.

EVOLUTIONS: 

 Johtonian Farfetch’d doesn’t evolve at all. Its a single form Pokemon. Single form Pokemon are really only interesting late game. Otherwise they’re picked up and quickly discarded. Farfetch’d is the poster child for this. In Red and Blue, you have to trade a Spearow for it. The issue is, it’s worse than Fearow, and by the time you get the opportunity to trade for it, you can easily just have a Fearow. Farfetch’d really needed an evolution. There was one in an early version of Gold and Silver called Madame, but honestly, it’s stupid looking and I’m not unhappy it got cut. Here’s an artist’s rendering of Madame thanks to Dr. Lava. I get it, but it’s not worth it. 

Galarian Farfetch’d evolves into Sirfetch’d after landing three critical hits in a single battle. This is... weird and silly, but actually entirely reasonable to do. If you equip a Leek and use an attack with a heightened critical hit chance, the real difficulty’s just finding something that survives the three crits. My big issue here is that, as far as I know, nowhere in the game do they TELL you this is how to do it. I get that some pokemon evolutions are more mysterious than others, but as things tend to die from being critically hit multiple times, it’s unlikely for someone to find this without looking it up online. Pokemon’s got a lot of evolution methods like this, and frankly, it just needs to stop.

But my biggest issue is that I don’t see why we even needed Galarian Farfetch’d. Farfetch’d could’ve just evolved into Sirfetch’d. Maybe make it Normal/Fighting to suggest that it can no longer fly because it’s got its big weapons now but it’s still the same bird. Instead, it feels like they gave us a new Farfetch’d just to justify its evolution, but we didn’t need a new Farfetch’d and now this just means the old one STILL can’t evolve. Now, this isn’t to say I don’t like it when forms get their own evolutions. Cursola’s a really cool thing that wouldn’t have made sense coming from a classic Corsola, and Obstagoon coming from Galarian Zigzagoon feels more like “what if we do this instead of making its pre-evolutions” and less like “Hey, let’s make a new final Zigzagoon form.”  And of course Perrserker and Runerigus are just too heavy variant from the classics to share a name. But Sirfetch’d here feels like Johtonian Farfetch’d is getting cheated out of the evolution it deserves. 

I’ve got mixed feelings on Mr. Rime, too, but we’ll get there when we get there.

TYPING:  Farfetch’d is a Normal/Flying, which is too common, especially in Red and Blue. With two immunities, two resistances, and three weaknesses, it’s fine, but Normal’s not supereffective against anything and Flying only hits three types and is resisted by three, so it’s not very useful offensively. Also, there’s just way too many straight up better Normal/Flying Pokemon. Like the Fearow you had to give up to get a Farfetch’d. Sirfetch’d is pure fighting, so three weakensses, three resistances, and a lot of interactions offensively. On the plus side, five things are weak to fighting. On the minus, five resist and one’s immune. This is a problem for pure fighting type Pokemon. It’s not really a great type to be. STATS:  Farfetch’d suuuuuuucks.

We’re looking at a FULLY EVOLVED Pokemon here with a stat total of 377. Its highest is 90 attack which, sure, is pretty alright, but the rest of its stats range from 52-62.  And that’s after a later generation buff. In the early games its attack was only 65.  Let me remind you that Fearow, which you had to not get to get a Farfetch’d, has its lowest stat at 61 and the same 90 attack. It’s just better.

I don’t want to too often discuss how a Pokemon’s problem is another overshadowing it, but it’s so important with Farfetch’d because it was originally an in-game trade, and it was an in-game trade that was just a bad deal. But even otherwise, Farfetch’d is pretty rare in any game its in, wheras Spearow are a dime a dozen. And Fearow’s still got three Normal/Flying types in gen 1 that are just better than it. Farfetch’d is really, really bad and deserves an evolution. Galarian Farfetched has near identical stats (+5 attack, -5 speed) but... it evolves.  And SIrfetch’d has 135 attack. The rest of its stats aren’t great- its speed is a bit low, and its defenses average out to about average, but 135 more attack than a Machamp, and 65 Speed is still faster than one. It’s more fragile, sure, but it’s a tradeoff.

ABILITIES: Farfetch’d has the usless Keen Eye, but both Defiant and Inner Focus are solid abilities, and both of them prevent the effects of Intimidate, which is helpful on a physical attacker.  If Farfetch’d had an evolution, I could see suggesting either, with Defiant better for higher speeds. But Farfetch’d is just a useless waste of space, so moving on. Sirfetch’d has Steadfast and Scrappy. Steadfast increases its speed when an opponent makes it flinch, which is fine but not what we care about.  Scrappy allows Sirfetch’d to use Fighting (and Normal) attacks on Ghost Pokemon, which gets rid of its easiest potential roadblock. Sure, there’s still plenty of things that resist Fighting type, but getting rid of an immunity is useful... even if Sirfetch’d learns plenty of Dark moves to cover that anyway. ITEMS: Most of the time I’m not going to talk about items, but it’s important to note that the Leek item raises the Farfetch’d line’s critical hit ratio by two stages. That means a 50% chance to score a critical hit on all attacks, or a 100% chance to crit with any high-crit move.   As a critical hit deals 1.5x damage and normally has a 4% chance to fire, this is roughly a 23% damage boost on all your moves. It’s not as much as a Life Orb or Choice Band, but it doesn’t come with a drawback, and critical hits ignore Light Screen, Reflect, +Defense, and -Attack, with the last one meaning Leek gives some Intimidate resistance.

MOVES: 

I’m not really going to talk about Farfetch’d’s moves here. There’s no reason to use Farfetched in a real battle.

Sirfetch’d signature move, Meteor Assault, is as strong as Hyper Beam, but is a physical fighting move. ... But Sirfetch’d can also learn Close Combat and despite the lower damage, taking a defense hit is far less terrifying than skipping a turn in a competetive battle.  Killing something with Meteor Assault is an invitation to be taken down by a Psychic attack. With Close Combat you can at least switch out. After that is the question of coverage, of which Sirfetch’d doesn’t really have many options. With STAB Meteor Assault having a base power of effectively 180, it’s generally ‘fine’ even when the opponent is resistant.  Still, Sirfetch’d has options for other moves, such as... First Impression:  One of very few Pokemon that learn this, First Impression is a powerful, high-priority Bug move. Its primary purpose is to kill fast but fragile Pokemon that could revenge-kill Sirfetch’d, especially psychic types like Alakazam. Knock Off: Almost every competitive Pokemon uses an item, so if you’re not about to get your day ruined by Acrobatics, Knock Off is a 97 power move that messes with your opponent’s strategy. 

Defog: Sirfetch’d just learns Defog. It doesn’t do much with it’s strategy and it’s a slow pokemon, but sometimes you just need to Defog. Swords Dance: You all know I love Sword’s Dance. It’s not as good on Sirfetch’d as it doesn’t have the defenses to set up or the speed to sweep, but it’s still worth noting. Leaf Blade: I really want to recommend this as a 90 power attack that always crits if used with a Leek, but... it only hits two of the things that resist Close Combat, and First Impression is just better for Psychic opponents.  Brave Bird:  Not single type resists both Close Combat and Brave Bird, and Brave Bird is very strong. Yes, it hits you back with a lot of recoil, but you can afford recoil if the other Pokemon’s down. Poison Jab: Poison Jab is supereffective against Bug and Fairy types, both of which resist Close Combat.  Sirfetch’d can also learn Sunny Day and Solar Blade, but that’s basically just being cute and not something I’d recommend except for fun. An ideal moveset for Sirfetch’d probably includes Close Combat, Brave Bird, and First Impression, with the last move based on the needs of your team.  OVERALL:  Sirfetch’d fills me with the same annoyance that I’ve gotten from Pokemons Crystal, Emerald, Platinum, and Ultra Sun/Moon. Yes, I love that they added an evolution to Farfetch’d. I appreciate everything about Sirfetch’d as a Pokemon... but MY Farfetch’d can’t evolve? I have to go out and get an entirely new Farfetch’d that’s 90% the same so I can get this expanded better version? You can’t just sell me some Farfetch’d DLC like an item that makes Farfetch’d evolve when you trade it, or make it so Farfetch’d could just evolve the whole time? And Sword and Shield’s willing to do that- Leafeon is just Leaf Stone now, and I could get an Eevee and a Leaf Stone back in Blue.

Is Sirfetch’d good content? Sure. He’s got solid stats, some interesting moves that can be hard to come by, and the ability to hit ghosts. But for a game where you can trade Pokemon from generation to generation, it feels like a huge cop out that Sirfetch’d comes from this new, not-actually-interesting “Galarian Farfetch’d” and our classic Farfetch’d is STILL a useless pile of junk that I traded a perfectly good Spearow for. 

Have I mentioned before that I love how Isle of Armor and Crown Tundra are just DLC instead of a brand new version of the game? Because that’s the best. Anyway, the point is, I want my Spearow back. It’s not like I was going to use it, but it’s the principle of the thing. 

[writings-in-ebony]

Heritage - Chapter 2 Steve Rogers/Black!reader

Summary: The annual Gathering is approaching causing all Irish wolves to come and celebrate their history together during a five-day week filled with feasts, games, entertainment, and storytelling. However, The Hunt is also during this time and Steve is volun-told to participate in this Coming-of-Age ceremony by none other than his grandfather. To have a successful hunt, one must possess all the attributes of a wolf to succeed, but Steve doesn’t have that. How can he successfully complete the challenge (and not die) when he can barely make it down the stairs without collapsing into an asthmatic fit?

Author’s note: Hello everyone! Sorry for the late submission, but life outside has a way of killing the writing muse and distracting me. I struggled through the beginnings of his chapter, but as you can tell, steam was picked up as my excitement grew. I would also like to point out that I tried to do extensive research on wolf mythology in Irish culture. If it is not accurate, please let me know and I’ll promptly correct it. I like to be as concise as possible with my works. As always, likes and reblogs are well received and I love comments and asks! Thanks again, everyone!

P.S. I’m sorry the reader has not shown up yet! It’s such a slow burn but I want to build the story up!

Word Count: 3341

Warnings: Bad language and a singular event of physical abuse

Chapter 2: The Hunt Part I

Cashel watched on as the contractors he hired lifted a wooden beam that would eventually be part of an intricate large tent. The tent will house three long wooden tables and benches, all made from the wood of the ash trees that grew in his homeland. They didn’t take long to import and the wood maker he had hired was a family friend. The man has been making crafts for them for well over twenty years and there was just something special about his work that caused them to keep requesting. With the tables that Cashel needed for this event, he specially carved the family’s crest into the top of the table and poured resin into the gaps to smooth it back out. It was beautiful and each tabletop was glossed and stained to bring out the rustic coloring. Marvelous, he had praised when he first saw them released from the shipping box.

One of the workers was drilling in the beam when his assistant, a relatively young wolf by the name of Finnian, approached him with his notebook in hand. The lad was lean, average height, and had a soft face that didn’t match his stern, cold eyes. Cashel had recruited him during the latter parts of the fifties, and he has been pleased with his work ever since. Finnian was prompt, organized, and quick on his feet whenever things went south. Cashel had also noted the young man had a dark streak to him, which complemented his unwavering loyalty to the family and his boss.

Finnian, who was already opening his notebook before he reached Cashel, was looking to finalize plans, receive a few confirmations, and update Cashel on all the arrangements and changes that are taking place. “Sir, I need to update you on a few things,” he had begun, formal and professional about everything.

“Firstly, I confirmed the menu with the chef, and he has already begun making preparations for the dinner. The baker has delivered the cakes and pies. However, she tried to skimp on one, but she was able to dock off some of the cost after some nudging. The contactors are, as you know, in the middle of their building and they will be done well in advance.” Cashel nodded, pleased with the news. But he didn’t say anything because he knew Finnian wasn’t done.

“Now, as for the Coming of Age ceremony, I have made sure that there are roadblocks and barriers put in place to prevent any…unnecessary leavings of the property. There are also barrier markers in the woods at the edge of the land. And some of the men have volunteered to stand watch and prevent anyone from entering and leaving without permission. As for the ceremony, I have three boy’s names down: Matt, Sean, and Miguel.”

“Steve,” Cashel provided. Finnian’s eyes widened and he paused at Cashel’s sudden addition. Without looking at the lad’s face, Cashel continued. “Add Steve’s name. He shall be participating in the Coming of Age ceremony, too. And make sure he and his mother are notified.”

“But sir, Steve…” he trailed off, wondering if it was his place to ask the question.

“I understand. Steve is lacking the physical qualities that are preferred to participate in The Hunt, but I believe he can still participate with what he has. The boy is smart, and a fighter. I know he is the runt to everyone else, but there is something under that weak exterior that is trying to fight its way out. And I want to be there when it does.” Cashel’s words didn’t ease Finnian in the slightest. In fact, they worried him and confused him. The boy was going to die, Finnian thought as he wrote down his name under the list of participants.

 ~~

“He wants me to do what?!” Steve screamed, face red and blotchy as he looked into Bucky’s worried eyes. “I-I can’t do the Coming of Age ceremony! I-I’m not, I c-can’t even run to the bathroom without having an asthma attack and increasing my risk of heart failure! And now the old coot wants me to compete against my strong ass cousins in an effort to show off what, my ability to die at the slightest breeze?!” He was breathing very heavily, almost wheezing, and Bucky reached into his pocket for the back-up inhaler.

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Bucky softly answered, but the responding glare aimed back at him told him that wasn’t the best approach. “Okay, listen, you’ll be given the tools you need to complete the challenge okay? And guess what, knowing you, you’ll do great!”

Steve flopped down on the bed, shrinking into himself and putting his face into his hands. “I knew my grandfather was trying to kill me. I bet he’s like, ‘Oh ho ho, let’s put him in the ceremony. That way he can die without it being on anyone’s conscious.’ Acting like I’m not the fucking runt.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, I know that’s not your voice I hear dishing out that horrible language,” came his mother’s stern voice. Steve jumped in surprise and watched his mother enter the room, a garment bag dangling over her arm.

“Sorry mam,” he grumbled. Bucky stood to the side and watched as Mrs. Rogers went to the bed and laid the garment bag down.

“Apology accepted,” she smirked, unzipping the front and exposing about five outfits for Steve. Her son let out an irritated groan and she quickly shut him up. “No, none of that. You know this is an important event and you need to look the part. Especially given you’re now in the ceremony!” She looked excited, but Bucky could smell the presence of nervousness and fear. She felt the same hesitations as Steve, but she couldn’t voice them unless she wanted to discourage her son. Even so, the matter was out of her hands.

“Now, c’mon and try on these outfits. I want my son to look good for the ladies this weekend!”

 ~~

The Hunt was only a small celebration within a larger one called The Gathering. The Gathering was the annual meeting of Irish wolves to celebrate their origin, survival, and thriving heritage. It has been held for centuries, usually somewhere within Ireland, but after the Gathering of 42’, it was decided that it should be held within America. It was a safety and security issue, and Cashel had taken up the mantle of hosting the event at his mountain estate every year.

The Gathering consisted of five days of events and various festivities. The first day was dedicated to the history of Irish wolves and everything involving the lore and stories behind their origins. A huge bonfire will be erected, and everyone will gather around to listen to the elders' recount old tales, both scary and mesmerizing. Steve always loved the tales, even if he’s heard them every year. They were so inspiring and made him proud to be part of a family with so much history. They told tales of the Laignach Faelad, a tribe of wolf-men who followed under the cruel rule of Crom Cruach and demanded payment in the form of newborn babies. Or the fight between Morrigan and Cúchulainn and how the goddess shifted into a giant wolf and caused destruction in her path. The stories were also exaggerated to make them more outlandish, but they were always entertaining, and everyone listened attentively every year as if they were brand new.

The second day would be dedicated to various games, tournaments, and music. It was an all-day party that ended in a giant feast and all the alcohol anyone could dream of. There wasn’t much Steve could do on this day since it mostly required you have the strength and skills of a wolf, so he usually just cheered his cousins on as he stood off to the side.

The third was a day of rest. A day where everyone tried to get over their hangovers and compose themselves before the big ceremony. A simple dinner was held, and it was usually a peaceful affair. There might be some rowdy individuals, but most just ate their dinner and either talked about the previous day or the one to come.

The fourth day was the big ceremony: The Coming-of-Age ceremony. This is where the chosen youth come forward and participate in a challenge and upon successful completion, they will fully be recognized as adults. It was a very important event amongst the family and every young wolf must participate if they want to be accepted and respected. The ceremony started with another big feast. The participants are sat in the middle of the table and given a hearty helping of food to increase their energy. Once that is done, the elders will announce each of them and give a speech on what it means to be an Irish wolf. And then, begins The Hunt.

 ~~

Steve was brought out of his thoughts when he realized his name was being called repeatedly. He gazed up from the book in his hand (he wasn’t actively reading it anyway) and saw his father standing in the doorway. His face was a mix between nervousness and irritation, probably because he has been calling his son’s name numerous times. “Yeah?” Steve asked, curious as to why his father was here. He never came to Steve’s room. It was like a silent agreement between the two. They stayed out of each other’s way and never had to deal with each other. But here they were, staring at each other as Joseph leaned against the frame of Steve’s bedroom door, looking at Steve with a weird smirk on his face.

“I just wanted to see how my son was doing,” Joseph chuckled. Steve’s frown deepened. This was highly unusual. Joseph saw the open expression of confusion cross his son’s face and his own smirk faltered. “What, I can’t see how you are doing?”

“You never come here,” Steve shot back. Was there something he did wrong? Did his father want something from him?

Realizing that Steve was not buying the fact his father became suddenly attentive and caring, Joseph eased off the doorframe and entered the room. “I heard you are participating in The Hunt.”

“Yeah, granddad volunteered me. Apparently, he has this notion that I’d be a great candidate for it, and I need to have the “experience”,” he raised his hands and did an air-quote on the word “experience.”

Joseph shifted his feet and chuckled, “Yeah, that’s your grandfather for you. Always making decisions for himself without considering others. But you know you can opt-out of it right?” Steve closed his book, narrowing his eyes at his father.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, son, let’s be real. If you go out there, you’re going to die, and it won’t be pretty either. Your mother is already worried sick about you going into this thing without a lick of strength and skills to guide you. So, yeah, you can save yourself by opting out. It won’t hurt anyone’s feelings and I’ll make sure your grandfather knows. Okay?” He actually had the audacity to aim a smile at Steve, like he didn’t just propose that he become the ultimate coward in front of his family.

“No one has ever backed out of The Hunt before,” Steve sneered.

“I know, I know, but listen. It won’t be that problematic. I’ll talk to the elders; your granddad and I’ll make sure you catch no slack from it. Everyone will understand why you want to opt-out.”

“So, you want me to…to become a damn coward?! To become the only person in the entire Rogers family, no scratch that. In the entire history of Irish wolves, to not participate in The Hunt? Really? You really think I want that on my name along with the fact I’m a literal runt?!” His voice raised at his father because he couldn’t believe his father would try to talk him out of something so important. Now, don’t get him wrong, Steve didn’t want to participate in the ceremony to begin with, but he’d have to at some point. So, he wanted to go ahead and get it out the way, hoping that luck was on his side and he wouldn’t die in the process. But he didn’t think his father’s hatred for him was deep enough to talk Steve out of finally being seen as something more than a stain on the family. No, Joseph didn’t want to be seen as the man who had an embarrassment for a son. He’d rather his son live his life silently as a runt than go out and get himself humiliated and killed during such an important event. It would only solidify the fact that he might not be a great heir to inherit the Rogers throne. He’d be the man who carried the weakest genes.

“I didn’t come here to start a fight, Steve. I’m only trying to protect you,” he began but was immediately cut off.

“You came here to protect your image. Not once have you shown any concern for me. No, you only care about what I’d make you look like if I participated in The Hunt. Well, sorry, Dad, I’m going to be in The Hunt and if I die, so be it.”

Joseph’s eyes flared a bright, blinding blue, his anger clear across his face. “You are a selfish child! And I don’t need you to solidify my place as a family heir anyway because your grandfather has already made it known that he will announce an heir to the family this weekend. And since your uncles have no knowledge of any of the business that goes on with the family, guess who is left to lead? ME.”

“Oh great! An ego booster that you don’t need.”

“I will not be disrespected by some child who can’t even breathe straight half the time. Especially one who is willing to put their mother through the pain of losing a child!”

“Is it comparable to the pain you put her through when you fuck around with other women?” The slap didn’t register to Steve until his face was already turned towards the other wall. The sting of his cheek followed soon after and he could already feel it swelling. When he turned his head back forwards, he saw his father standing over him, eyes blazing with sweltering anger. His hand was still raised, and his breathing was coming out more raggedly as if he had just run a mile. Steve glared right back at him, hoping his face was showing the same level of hatred.

“Sir, Mr. Cashel has requested you to be at his mansion as soon as possible. He’s looking to speak with you on some of the plans for the weekend,” Bucky piped in, face stoic and composed. Joseph, hearing the man’s voice, jumped back from Steve and straightened himself out.

“Ah, yes. I’ll be there shortly,” and with that, he hurried from the room. Bucky watched the man leave, waiting until he was around a corner before entering Steve’s room and shutting the door. He quickly went to the bathroom and prepared a warm towelette covered in water and rubbing alcohol. Steve silently took it and placed it on his cheek.

They sat in silence for a good minute, listening to the sounds of cars as they passed by the front of the house. “How much did you hear?” Steve eventually asked, eyes aimed at the window.

“Enough,” Bucky supplied, sounding grim.

“Do you think I’m in the wrong?” Steve turned to look this time. Bucky’s face softened and his head slowly shook from side to side.

“No…You have every right to do it,” Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, aiming a small smile at Steve. “Plus, you have that determined look. Even if I tell you no, you’ll still do it anyway.”

“You’re damn right,” Steve grumbled. “I’ll show them all I can do it. Even if it does kill me.”

 ~~

Things with Joseph did not get resolved by the time the weekend started. Sarah, who was ignorant of the exact reason why her boys were acting strange, tried to ease the tension with conversation and excited talk about the events to come. But it did nothing but make the long drive up to the mountains more awkward. She had given up three-fourths of the way and they all just sat quietly as the radio droned on.

When they reached Cashel’s mountain estate, they saw that there were already quite a few people already there. Eight cars were neatly parked in a line towards the edge of the lot and Steve recognized two to belong to his Uncles Brennan and Aiden. Joseph must have recognized them too because he was currently cursing under his breath.

Everyone in the family knew that Joseph was not liked by his uncles, Cashel’s brothers. And while Steve didn’t know the exact details of what caused the dissonance, he faintly heard that his father had said the wrong thing at the wrong time and has been on their hate list since then. Add that to the fact they thought of him as a lowly individual and constantly berated him whenever things went to hell. If they thought that bad of him now, wait until they heard he was being considered as the next leader. Steve can already imagine the looks of disapproval and distaste.

Thankfully, Steve and his mother never had an issue with Cashel’s brothers. If anything, they adored Sarah and Steve and wondered how both of them ended up stuck with Joseph for a husband and a father. It was hilarious and they made Joseph the butt of their jokes whenever he came around. And while Sarah tried to defend him, Steve always laughed along and agreed with half the shit they said. Mainly because it was true.

They climbed out of the car and walked towards the front of the mansion, already consumed by its great shadow. The large wooden front door was opened to reveal Cashel, who looked down upon them with a huge smile and a glass of wine in his right hand. “Son! Daughter-in-law! Grandson! Welcome!” he cried. Deeper within the mansion, music could be heard, and someone’s laughter cut through.

“Hello, father,” Joseph uttered as he crossed the threshold. He bypassed Cashel’s open arms and made his way further inside. However, it was noted the way he looked around as if looking for someone. Or maybe trying to hide from a specific pair of individuals.

Sarah, on the other hand, walked into her father-in-law’s open arms and hugged him. She smiled brightly and started giving compliments to the Cashel about the house and how she was looking forward to another year of enjoyment. Cashel thanked her and eased her inside. But he paused and looked back at Steve. Steve stood just outside the door and looked up at his grandfather’s face. The man’s merry smile was replaced with something darker, more mischievous. As if he was hiding a secret that only he knew.

“And hello Steven,” the man grinned, making Steve suddenly uncomfortable.

“Hey, granddad,” he muttered.

“Are you excited about this weekend?” The smile was gone, replaced by his signature intense stare.

“I don’t know if I’ll do good. I mean, I’m not really cut out for…The Hunt, or anything. I don’t want to disappoint you or the family,” Steve gulped, hating he was showing any slight weakness in front of Cashel. But what he didn’t expect was his grandfather’s firm grip on his shoulder, pulling him into the mansion and leading him through the hallway towards the music.

“Don’t worry Steven. I believe you are fully capable of completing the ceremony. And hell, you might even surprise us.” Steve looked up at his grandfather’s face, trying to read the man, but there was nothing but a knowing smile. And before he could inquire the man about what he said, he was called away.

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Book Review -- The Heartstrikers Series

This is a book review about the first three books in the Heartstrikers Series, which starts with Nice Dragons Finish Last.

I liked these books, but I didn’t love them. It's definitely a solid three stars, and I'll read the last two books to see where it goes. Overall, if you like fantasy with YA elements, you will probably enjoy this series.

This review will contain some minor spoilers in order to justify my rating, with some MAJOR spoilers at the end.

First, the good. The plot is absolutely solid and it's clear the the author had a good idea of what she was going to do before she wrote it. It has a very mobster-type feel which I would expect with the way the dragons are characterized. The writing is occasionally clever and the main character is likable, relatable, and I'm able to empathize with his situation. The author may be projecting a bit as Julius' situation can get a little heavy-handed, but the theme of a found family is definitely present and well-executed.

I love the world that's been created. I'm originally from Detroit, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that the entire first book takes place in a sort of ghost-town version of it. I can picture the descriptions of the houses (I used to work in an old mansion converted in to an office, in fact!) and it's pretty clear that the author is from Detroit, or at least spent a lot of time there. Sometimes it got a little name-droppy as far as locations were concerned, but I kept hoping the author would namedrop the place where I'm from, so it's a fair trade. XD (She did not, sadly, but it was still fun to read about.)

The spirits and how they exist is also very interesting. Algonquin is an amazing villain in the second ant third books, and I can't wait to read more about her and the other spirits in the last two books.

There's also a great amount of action interspersed with the narrative, so that kept things interesting! Some books tend to either get lost in endless exposition or endless action sequences, but this book balances them very well.

Now for the not-so-good.

I picked up the first book expecting dragons. The title is "Nice Dragons Finish Last," after all, and while it's very clear from the description that the main character, Julius, is "sealed," I had hoped that there would be at least some mythological creature action. This is kept to an absolute minimum, though, in favor of dragons in their human shape. It's even a rather contrived "rule" in Detroit that dragons aren't allowed to be there. This trope has become outright cliche... I've been reading books for years and this was a common theme way back in the days of Dragonlance--take an incredibly powerful being and shove them into human shape, but add a coolness factor by calling them a dragon. (I wrote this part after the first book: there's much more ACTUAL dragon action in books 2 and 3. I still wish there was more.)

But they aren't really dragons. They think like humans, they act like humans, they seem to have the same emotions as humans... Except for another fantasy trope, which is taking every member of a species and shoving them into a single alignment (lawful evil in this case). Julius is the one exception, so it's a very Drizzt Do'urden situation and it's always been odd to me that every member of a species could be evil/good just because of what they are. (this is especially a problem with goblins and rampant antisemitism, but that's another discussion entirely.)

It's a problem that allows justified racism. If the entirety of one species is mean, it's really easy to make everyone hate them, and you lose the nuance of what real racism is. I would suggest that people not write about racism unless they've either experienced it or they've consulted with members of their community who have been the target of it. This becomes more of a problem in the second and third books when Julius is trying to prove that Not All Dragons Are Bad. And it becomes clear that both humans and spirits are very racist against dragons, but it completely lacks the reality of what racism really is. As one poster on tumblr said, "racism isn't just one species being mean to another."

Essentially, it puts all dragons on an uphill battle against everyone else, fails to become a proper allegory, and discards depth and warmth.

A small problem that I should mention is that sometimes plot points sort of fade? There was a situation where Julius' mom visits and he was very mean to Marci, and she was very upset about that, but it's never actually addressed. It sort of fizzles and ends and then everything moves on. It should have at least been mentioned and tied up.

Another problem is repetitiveness or filler text. When I'm going through beta reading for my books, I ask my readers to tell me ANY TIME they skim over text. When your readers are skimming, what you've written isn't interesting, and it has to be changed. I found myself doing this a lot in this book. I forced myself to read back and see what I've skimmed over, and it was usually information I'd already read being presented in a slightly different way. My advice would be to allow the readers to infer information without explaining it into the ground. One thing I would avoid is the discussion of plans before executing said plans--even if they ultimately go wrong. It's enough to say that your protagonist HAS a plan, then let the text speak for itself. These planning phases were what I tended to skip the most.

I can supply one sample of repetitiveness without spoiling the story too badly: One of the main characters is talking with a dragon character about a plan at the beginning-ish of book 3. And breaking the text down to its basics, it goes like this:

Amelia: You have to. Marci: I don't know... Amelia: But you have to. Marci: I don't know... Amelia: You really should do this. Marci: I don't know... Amelia: It's a good idea. Marci: Okay I'll do it. Amelia: Are you sure? Marci: Yes I'll do it. Amelia: Are you sure???

And the argument became VERY spread out over the whole chapter, interspersed with the same explanation of why Marci Should Do The thing, most of which I ended up skimming to the part where Marci ultimately accepted Amelia's idea.

Another chapter I skipped was in book 3 where two human characters had lunch with Marci. And as soon as it became clear they were discussing stuff Marci basically already knew, I just skipped the whole chapter. It was an unnecessary bit of writing that could have been summarized in one or two paragraphs instead. I went back and actually read it later. I didn't miss anything.

(my examples are from the third book because I just finished it and it's the freshest in my mind, but this is an issue in the first two books as well.)

I think there's a certain amount of realism in conversations like this. The problem is that your readers have already figured out where something is going, and they want to get there. If the author reads this, my suggestion would be this: Sometimes it's okay to cut events out when they're uninteresting. If you hate writing it, and your beta readers hate reading it, it can go. I wouldn't follow the advice that you should cut out EVERYTHING irrelevant to the plot, because sometimes it's fun to have fun, but the extra boring tedium can be safely summarized.

Next, Marci.

I first want to state here that my PREFERENCE is writing female characters. Most of my characters are women. And I understand there are a lot of readers who outright dislike all female characters, but I'm not one of them. I feel like that's an important thing to state before going into more detail about my issues with Marci.

I wanted to read more of the series before posting this review, because I felt Marci was a shallow character after book one. She felt like a female character who was STRONG, but NOT a strong female character.

And through the first book, she felt like a prop to the other main character, Julius, instead of a character all her own. (And to be fair, her ENTIRE story from the first book is sort of... hand-waved in books 2 and 3.)

In the first book, Marci isn't really written with a story arc. She's a sort of deus ex machina for Julius; she appears into his life mysteriously as he's looking for a mage, first of all. And while it SEEMS that she does have her own arc, it becomes clear by the end of the story that she's only a catalyst for the dragons' stories. The thing she's protecting eventually ends up in the hands of the dragons; she's essentially just a walking suitcase for them. She's a roadblock for the villains. And there's not even a true explanation of Why She Has The Thing They Want except that it's really cool and she wants it.

This alone may have prevented me from reading the rest of the series, but I'm VERY glad I did--While Marci has a slow start, her story does pick up in the second and third books and she becomes much more likeable. She still feels like a prop at times (other characters refer to her as a "weapon" even) but within that description, she's fighting her own battles and has become much less shallow.

I do wish she had more agency. I wish her decisions truly felt like hers, instead of the manipulations/machinations of those with higher power. But she's not the worst-written female character I've ever read, and the author makes it clear in the second and third books that she knows how to write good female characters (cough chelsie cough) so I can forgive Marci's shortcomings.

There's one Bad thing that I want to address, too, which mostly came up at the end of book 2 and throughout book 3. And this is a fairly major spoiler, I'm sorry.

You don't give a tyrannical dictator power after you defeat her. You just don't. Julius could have banished his mother if he refused to kill her. He could have let someone else kill her. He could have done any number of things. But the first thing he does is give her a seat on the new council and is just like "yes you still get to make decisions." And as you can imagine, this goes very wrong.

And book 3 is FULL of Julius refusing to let his brothers and sisters kill anyone, even when it's justified. This has always been a trope that rankled... You can't write about a coup and then have nobody die. It suggests that genocidal dictators Can Change If You Give Them The Right Opportunities, and we all know from real life that that doesn't happen. Tyrannical people in power will fight to keep that power. They don't learn. And props to the author for showing that these people don't learn, but... seriously, you don't keep people around who actively want to kill you.

I was so annoyed with Julius by the end of book 3, and the hoops the writing had to jump through to show his decision was good and right. He felt naive and almost stupid. And (VERY major spoiler here, just stop reading if you don't want the end of book 3 spoiled!)

...

...

...

...

...

...

Julius' mother had enslaved his sister for hundreds of years. When the sister was released, she immediately tried to kill her mother.

This would have justified ALL of Julius' actions up until that point if he'd just LET HER. Bethesda hurt Chelsie the most out of ANY Of her children. It would have been a PERFECT way to allow Chelsie to get her well-deserved revenge AND end the problem of Bethesda (who REALLY deserves to die.) And Julius made her stop, because That's Not How We're Doing Things Anymore.

I don't like that Bethesda is effectively not paying for the thousands of atrocities she committed over the last thousand years because the main character is a pacifist. It just doesn't sit right. And IDK if the author is building to Bethesda's death in the last couple books or not, but letting Chelsie kill her would have been the PERFECT end, and I'm really disappointed. No end for Bethesda would have been better than that.

Anyway.

As I said at the beginning of this review, I still recommend reading the series. It's a really interesting urban fantasy-type book, and while it crosses into YA territory, the fantasy aspect is interesting enough to keep me reading.