#my wicked sense of humor is written all over this

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

has anyone ever talked about their experience being a groupie with axl or having sex with axl or something about axl except from what we already know about erin and stephanie and that girl sheila kennedy? because there are plenty of stories about people who fucked slash, but none about people who hooked up with axl, I NEED TO BE FED WITH SOMETHING😩😩😩😩

Curiosity is getting the best of us lol.

As far as I'm aware, there isn't a public sex tape of him, nor are there any anecdotes from groupies who fucked him. I'm sure it was a double-sided coin with Axl, depending on the kind of mood he was in. For example, if he was in a good mood, it was probably the best sex ever. However, if he was in a bad mood, the sex was probably the worst. Or, if you liked pain, it was still probably the best lay, give or take.

That's all I know. I couldn't tell you anything else because I haven't slept with him (I'm sure we all would tho *winks*)

Since we don't have Axl’s cock to feed us, I can provide you with some other random information about him:

A lot of guys I know, and I'm one...We don't necessarily relate sex with love. It's recreation, it's something I do. It's like people who go skateboard, people who play basketball, people who play pool, whatever. We're looking for girls. It's something I do. So far, with the women that I've been in love with over the years, one of the most beautiful things in the world was watching them have an orgasm. And if they had an orgasm with someone else, and I was there, I loved to watch that because I knew they were receiving something great, and having a great time, and feeling good. And watching them experience this meant the world to me. It's beautiful. You know, an orgasm is beautiful. It's a beautiful thing.

- Axl Rose, MTV (1989)

Sounds like Axl watched and took notes on how to further please his women, hehe. No wonder this man is so experienced. He knows what makes women tick. Wouldn't it be wonderful to experience multiple orgasms by the hands, tongue, and cock of Axl Rose? 😩💦 Count me in!

Speaking of women...and parties...and brawls... Axl was in Stockholm, Sweden, in 2006, at a nightclub - Café Opera - after performing at a concert. He partied all night and was "surrounded by a throng of leather-dressed blonde females and Swedish celebrities." Axl enjoyed himself and drank lots of Jack Daniel's. At one point, "he sat down between two blonde girls and lit up a cigarette." The Swedish TV host, Gry Forssell, who partied with Axl, said, "[he] was in a great mood. He was dancing, drinking, and was surrounded by girls. He gave me a shot and he seemed to be having a very pleasant night." Damn, lucky. Women must've been chasing after him! 🥵

During the wee hours of the morning, Axl went back to his hotel and hoped to continue the party, however, nobody was there. "Where is everyone?Where's the party? I was promised a big party!" Axl became pissed and started cursing.

The hotel security guard asked him to "lower his voice," but Axl continued swearing until he "pushed [the guard] in the chest hard enough to cause him to almost lose his balance...In response, the security guard grabbed Axl's braids and pulled [him] to the floor. That's when Axl bit [the guard] in his thigh. At that point, [Axl] got hold of a nearby vase and threw it straight into an 18th century mirror, worth approximately $2,000."

*nervous laughter* Nobody tell him that's 7 years of bad luck. Anyways, the police arrived and arrested Axl, deeming him too intoxicated to be questioned. He was in the station for 12 hours before being transported out.

I'm guessing Axl partied too hard and blacked out during these events, so he wasn't in control of his mind, or actions, at the time. I swear, if there's a mugshot with his braids, I will lose my mind. It would be my favorite mugshot of his, too. I just gotta find it lol. Gawwd, I'm such a whore for 2006 Axl...*sighs*

Little bonus:

Axl Rose with Justine Ezarik (2007)

HE’S SO HOT!

Moving on. In 2006, Tommy Hilfiger had an altercation with Axl at a New York club called The Plumm. Tommy and his then-girlfriend, Dee Ocleppo, were gonna sit at a table. To make room and not have Dee's drink get spilled, Axl moved it, which provoked Tommy, causing him to smack Axl's hand away and land a blow to his cheek. Axl didn't fight back, but he called Tommy out, and Tommy kept egging him on by showcasing some unusual karate moves.

This story is stupidly funny lmao. A Reddit user once said that the picture (above) looks like a "modern renaissance painting," and I couldn't agree more 🤣

I hope these details fed you well, anon.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

Azriel x Reader - Fluff - One Shot

While getting over a breakup, a performer in a Velaris tavern catches the attention of a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Alcohol, Implied hook-up

The notes flowed effortlessly through my fingers onto the ivory keys of the tavern’s antique piano. I’d played the song more times than I cared to admit over the past several months yet the angst of it had yet to be lost on me.

Tonight was particularly lively as the High Lord and Lady’s inner circle made their way into the tavern. One of the nicer pleasure halls in Velaris yet not as alluring as Rita’s, which was closed this week as they install an updated dance floor and modernize the bar’s serving area.

Once word spread of the prestigious guests, a plethora of onlookers flowed in the front doors. It had been a while since the bouncer actually had a line to attend to.

Attendees made requests, many tunes of a more risqué variety in hopes of a sultry dance against THE Morrigan. Who could blame them? She was lovely. Not in a soft and gentle way - but in a powerful, warm, seductive sort of way. Those that didn’t want to be with her, wanted to be her. Males and females alike tried and failed to get close enough for a dance but she stayed close to the remainder of the inner circle on the dance floor, so lost in the music that she hadn’t even noticed the desire flowing around her.

The Shadowsinger had also come out tonight. Though he evaded the dance floor, guarding their corner table diligently. An emotionless, bordering cold stare plastered on his face as he monitored the place. Ever the watchful friend, ensuring nobody stepped out of line. Many patrons gazed from afar, whispering words of encouragement as to who could work up the nerve to approach. The more brazen guests going as far as to take a few steps closer before being put off by his intimidating presence without him even making eye contact with them.

After a recent break up - recent putting it lightly - it had been months but who was counting? I’d taken to spending my weekends in this tavern. One evening, after far too many shots of liquid courage, I began playing on the piano while singing raunchy limericks and catchy tunes I’d picked up over the years during my travels through Prythian. Despite his odious reputation, some of my favorite limericks came from the High Lord of the Spring Court whom I’d never met personally. The poems coming in slurs from drunken participants of the Great Rite many years ago, the Calanmai where I met my former lover.

We’d connected instantly - literally and figuratively - and spent several wonderful years together. Until, damn the cauldron, he found his mate earlier this year. What are years together in the face of fate? Fate having a wicked sense of humor. How lucky for me that his mate dwelled in the city that I had introduced him to, MY city. They’d come into this very tavern shortly after the breakup, kindly leaving just as abruptly they came in. A futile effort of sparing me the heartache. Truthfully, he wasn’t a cruel male. He didn’t know I played here - and I didn’t hate him. But I resented it. All of it.

Which lead me to the song I was currently belting out at this piano. The song I’d written immediately after arriving back to my apartment that night, whiskey in one hand, fountain pen in the other.

“…And you're sitting in front of me at the restaurant, when I was still the one you want

Cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right.

I, I could feel the mascara run. You told me that you met someone, glass shattered on the white cloth

Everybody moved on

Help, I'm still at the restaurant, still sitting in a corner I haunt, cross-legged in the dim light

They say, What a sad sight"

Despite the angsty, brooding lyrics, the tone was catchy and very easy to move along to. The more frequent patrons of the establishment had come to know this as a staple in my evening set, belting out the lyrics right along with me.

The song was my closing for the evening as I packed up, ready to head out. One of the attendees brought a glass of my favorite whiskey to me, nodding to the beautiful brooding male at the Inner Circle’s table.

Interesting.

I nodded a thank you with a brief raise of my glass to the Spymaster, as a little shadow swirled around my wrist with a gentle tug in his direction.

Who was I to turn him down? Aside from a steaming bath and smutty novel, I had nothing waiting for me to return home.

I casually strode to his table, giving a little smirk before sitting in front of him. Licking my lip before raising the glass to my mouth, lifting an eyebrow as I locked eyes with him.

“I didn’t realize Spymaster involved sussing out a lady’s drink of choice.”

A cool, bemused expression settled on his face as he took a sip from his own glass. “While my skill set is quite impressive, I asked the attendant for the bartender to send you a glass of your favorite.”

“I see. Well, thank you.” I replied, giving him time to continue the conversation or bid a farewell.

“You wrote that song.” He stated, not a question. Spymaster indeed.

For emphasis, I threw back a large swig of my liquor. “I did. Did you like it?”

He met my gaze with a contemplative glean in those hazel eyes, “Yes, no. Yes, the song was good. No, I did not like the truth behind the words. It felt too… relatable.”

I ran my fingers back through my hair letting it loosely fall back into place, and sighed. “Looks like we’ll both need another drink then.” Turning to the nearby attendee and signaling two fingers.

Two drinks turned to three, and four, by the end of the night we had laughed, one-upped eachother on who was unluckiest in love, and I was practically in his lap as we boisterously toasted a cheeky “Damn, the cauldron!” to which a nearby couple audibly gasped. We both muttered quick “apologies” turning away as we muffled our laughter into each others shoulders. He graciously sent the pair a shot with our next round of drinks.

The place started clearing out as the lights brightened and the keep yelled out a last call. Both of us hesitant to call it a night as we stepped into the brisk cold. “Walk me home, Shadowsinger?”

“Azriel. Call me Azriel.” He smiled. “I actually have something better in mind. Join me for a night cap?” He extended a hand.

Holding my hand out to squeeze his reassuringly, I replied, “Y/N. I’d be delighted.”

He eagerly swept me into his arms and darted into the sky, aiming for the House of Wind. The city lights quickly fading into twinkling stars.

Our pulses fluttered with anticipation as I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. When I pulled back to meet his eyes, he gave me a mischevious grin and briskly swooped down then back up. I flicked his nose to which he laughed, tilting his head downward to plant a kiss on my forehead.

I finally left the restaurant…

And my dress on his bedroom floor.

[sgiandubh]

It all starts with a smoke alarm

This wasn't supposed to happen like that, of course. It was supposed to happen with an ”allow me to introduce myself”, at the least. But hey, I am playing the cards I've been dealt, and since an anonymous ask on Tumblr does not allow pictures or links, this will have to do. We'll have plenty of time later.

Yesterday, I said that reading that Single Report reaped benefits. I have screen capped and summed up all the things that made me rise an eyebrow, to make things easier. Hopefully, this is going to be short: who would wax lyrical about a septic tank, after all?

I did not use my superpowers to do this, but simply the link provided by a very active Anon on several shipper blogs, in order to properly stir shite, I presume: https://corumproperty.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/HomeReport-31.pdf

Armed with my wits and a virtual highlighter, I started to carefully read the whole document. Ownership details aside - this, I discussed yesterday -, I remind you that it should give any prospective buyer a good, detailed idea of the available fittings and current condition of the house put on sale.

In Europe and elsewhere, I guess, inspections of this type are rather a dull and thorough affair. And these people did an excellent job: they checked every single nook & cranny, used binoculars to have a closer look at the roof tiles and listed it all on these papers a good researcher should read, before dropping to conclusions.

This is how we know, for example, that the inspection happened on a rainy day:

.. and that the guttering was overflowing. Does that sound like a well loved, lived-in house to you?

Thought so.

This brought a smile. And the image of a Christmas tree left near a London dustbin in June. Home, sweet home?

Like all properties, this also comes with burglar and fire alarm systems. However, apparently not much has been done, in this respect. Or at least, not recently. Not since February 2022, to be accurate: otherwise, they would have been upgraded. Yet, no such thing: it's up to the buyer to do and pay for the upgrade.

Lived-in? Certainly not after February 2022 and probably even earlier, would be my best guess. But lived-in at some point in time, most certainly.

You see, since I was on the real estate agent's webpage, I also took the virtual tour of the house. It is available to everyone, here: https://my.matterport.com/show/?m=AFKibrk8QiD

Now, I don't know about you, but when I visit somebody's house for the first time, I always check the bookshelves: yes, I am a shameless nerd. I am also well aware that the rest of the furniture was staged, it looked that sad, clinical way it does all over the world. Did not expect to find any books in there, to be honest. And yet, there they were.

I didn't bother with the fashion coffee table books, although I thought they were a nice nod to Ms. B's past, and totally the kind of things she might have on her credenza.

A built-in bookshelf in the basement caught my eye. That did not look staged. It looked as she might have left some of her own books in there, like an afterthought, if you want. And people's choices of books are always speaking volumes to me, about who they really are.

It did not disappoint.

More fash-un. And yeah, Tiffany & Co! I knew it!

A Tina Turner bio or memoir. Awww:

Bette Davis and some feminist literature. Her books, I am pretty sure of that:

And, to save the best for last, lo and behold, what do we have here?

Bear Grylls?

That Bear Grylls?

Hahahaha. Of course. I have all the reasons in the world to believe the music producer/PA/whatever is into masculine thrillers written by a world-renowned survivalist, haven't I?

Not a chance in hell, to be honest. I grinned like the Cheshire cat because, ladies, we do know WHOSE book is this, don't we?

Judging by its jacket, well-read. Not a prop.

Belonging to someone with a dry, wicked sense of humor who apparently also left this gem:

A Captain's Duty. At this point in time, I wasn't grinning anymore. I was laughing like an idiot, of course.

Slàinte mhath, ladies. We'll have time for a proper introduction later.

[spacexseven]

HIHI its my first time doing an ask so I hope I'm doing this correctly so I was thinking about your subordinate au and it made me think about a random comic I read where this dude bullies a girl and she’s basically yandere for him so I was thinking yandere subordinate darling with dazai and chuuya and they find out and tease them about it

i have briefly talked about a subordinate reader that has a crush on chuuya before, if you're interested. also please do let me know the name of the comic :> sounds interesting~ i reallyyyyy like this lol i wanna do moreeee

cw: yandere reader, yandere characters, abuse of power, humiliation, invasion of privacy, mentioned stalking, nsfw mentions (of non-con voyeurism) MINORS DNI

as always, dazai finds out first.

when it comes to humiliating you, he's the most eager, after all. you should have taken into consideration that he'd go to any lengths to air out your dirty laundry, even if it meant snooping around your house for something to use. and you, foolishly, had decided to keep a diary of sorts. a diary documenting your...strange feelings for the two executives that never left you alone.

to be fair, it probably wasn't the diary that gave you away. even before that, you weren't the best at concealing your feelings. it was all too obvious that you liked chuuya and dazai more than you should have, painfully clear that you weren't staring in their direction out of paranoia, that you weren't refusing to meet their eyes out of fear. dazai had long picked up on the hints. now, this only confirmed his suspicions.

"what's this about?" his tone, though seemingly inquisitive, is laced with mocking humor, "so you like me, do you? so much that you have a diary about me? can't stop thinking about me, can you?"

he laughs again, a dry, taunting sound, "god, you're so pathetic. look at you, watching me like a creepy little stalker. is this what you do in your free time? and here i thought you'd hate us."

you can't help the way your heart pounds and your head spins even when dazai is sneering at you.

"you think chuuya is pretty, do you? all it took was for you to see him smile and you've fallen head over heels for him? you're going to hurt my feelings, [name], how come you don't write about how pretty you find me? how cute my smile is, and how hot it is when i make fun of you?"

you might be imagining it, but you're almost certain that there was a hint of irritation in his voice. hah, was he jealous? the thought makes you feel an overwhelming sense of self-satisfaction. and to think he called you the pathetic one...

chuuya hasn't spoken a word since dazai dragged you out here. but the moment dazai mentioned what you had written about him, he perks up ever so slightly and looks over at your cowering form.

"hey, don't go all quiet now," dazai doesn't even bother hiding the delight in his eyes, "i really want to know! you like the way we look, don't you? say, do you touch yourself thinking of me? you do, don't you?," he laughs a little, "what else would i expect from you? have you tried following me home? i bet you like watching me sleep, too. do you wait by my window and hope you can catch a glimpse of me doing something filthy? if i read this, i'll know the answer to that, right? or do you have another book, for your dirty little thoughts?"

he turns around to acknowledge chuuya for the first time since they gathered here, "shall we have them read it all out to us?"

chuuya, then, smiles back; a malicious, wicked sight. it's a loud, clear yes that seals your fate.

[wholoveseggs]

Heeey, i know that the year is still not over but I’m genuinely curious what is your favorite fic that you wrote this year? 😄

You opened pandora's box with this question... lol. I started this blog in November 2023, and somehow, I’ve managed to write over 100 fics since then (holy shit ~ lmao). Picking just one favorite? That's tough. So here are my top twelve instead… though even narrowing it down to that was a challenge. (These are in no particular order, because I’m indecisive like that.) Also, fair warning... I’m in a yapping mood, so buckle up!

Phantom Desires

Inspired by Daemon being mentally tortured in Harrenhal in HOTD season two… This fic pushed me out of my comfort zone, It’s equally horny and spooky. There’s something so compelling about Daemon unravelling in a place that feels alive with grief and malice, and this fic gave me the perfect chance to delve into his loneliness, guilt, and desperate need for connection. And honestly? Daemon deserved every bit of it.

Ride the Sky

A request from my beloved @elijahstwink !! This idea was such a fun challenge. Even though I'm writing about a fantasy show with literal dragons, magic and shit... I couldn't quite reckon the idea of having actual sex on dragonback in the sky lol. Something about that seemed unrealistic (I know, I know, I'm writing about DRAGONS, but you know what I mean) Anyways, it was a delight to write. Fun fact: the title comes from a song by lightning bolt, and I imagine it's what is playing in Daemon's head when he is up to no good.

Truth or Dare

I had so much fun writing this one! It’s chaotic, awkward, and wholesome all at once, which made it an absolute joy to create. I love writing about parties… the energy, the drama, and all the ridiculous little moments that come with them. The truth or dare game was probably my favorite part to write, coming up with the dares and imagining the character reactions had me giggling the entire time. And, of course, building the tension with Elijah gave the story that little spark of sweetness I couldn’t resist. It’s by far my favorite first-time story I've written.

Indulgences (Series)

This series is heavily inspired by Wicked Games by The Weeknd (And I mean HEAVILY - I stole the ideas from that song and turned it into plot ~lol). I remember thinking Elijah would totally be the sad guy at the strip club, and the rest snowballed from there. It’s wild, sexy, dangerous, and heartbreaking, but also deeply personal for me. As someone who is a perpetual recovering addict, I poured a lot of my own experiences into this story.. especially the numbness that comes with addiction and the feeling of being trapped in a cycle you can’t escape.

Some readers commented that they wished the reader stayed with Elijah in the end, but that was never the answer for this story. Staying would have meant going from one violent life to another (not that Elijah would be violent toward her, but his life is inherently violent). Breaking the cycle isn’t just about leaving toxic elements behind; sometimes, true healing requires sacrificing even the good things.

Bloodbath

It's the first fic I ever wrote (and the third one I ever posted). I’m so proud of that dumb title and tagline (not even Elijah can defeat the immortal evil that is Aunt Flo). I remember posting it, and it had zero interactions for days. I worried that my sense of humor was not translating the way I wanted... Perhaps the title was a bit extreme and that a vampire eating you out on your period was a bit too niche. But you know what? This one isn't for anyone but me, and it has a special place in my heart.

A Date with Klaus

When I came up with the idea of Klaus leaving you flirty little sketches, I was absolutely giggling and kicking my feet like a teenager. It’s pure, unfiltered wish fulfillment with just the right amount of spice. Honestly, the idea of Klaus being an ass man just feels like universal law…I don’t make the rules, I just write them.

Strings

Often, I write the reader to be nothing like me... but with this one, I was projecting hardddd. The push-pull dynamic, the fear of vulnerability, and the emotional walls the reader builds? Yeah, that’s me (I’m also a sloppy drunk). This may or may not be based on a true story lmao. Writing it was cathartic, though...it let me process a lot of my own struggles with letting people in (I’m still bad at it)

Hold

Elijah is all about finding solutions to problems, and this horny af fic is the perfect example of that. The mix of intimacy, his total control, and his ability to completely unravel the reader is everything I adore about this character. It’s equal parts sweet and scorching, and writing this was such a dreammmm.

Decadence

This request had me so excited (hi, I'm a retired goth girl myself ~lol) There’s something so perfect about Elijah falling for this gothy reader. The dark aesthetic, the shared love of the macabre, and their mutual appreciation for art and culture made this such a dream to write. Weaving their dynamic into that decadent mix of gothic romance and feral passion was everythingggg. 

Rules (Series)

I love the love for this series! The concept had been floating around in my head for ages, and I never anticipated the overwhelming passion it would spark. The way everyone engaged with the story was beyond anything I could’ve imagined, and the comments on the final part had me absolutely cackling. (You created the monster in me lol)

Extraordinary (Series - this includes Magnificent and Ménage a Quatre)

It’s okay to love them all, I did. I do. And the stupid titles for this series still make me laugh. I would not survive marathon sex with multiple immortal vampires, but it sure is fun to write about. It’s silly, hot, borderline ridiculous, and I fucking love it.

Warmth (Series - but specifically Part Two)

The first series I ever made, and it still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. I remember being so terrified to post it, agonising over every word, stressing about whether the gif matched the vibe, and second-guessing if I was putting too much of my own personal tastes with the Nirvana references. I kept thinking…“What am I doing out here writing vampire smut? Would Elijah even like grunge? probably not lol” And look at me now… lmao. This one will always have a special place in my heart because it reminds me how far I’ve come. Re-reading it feels like reconnecting with an old friend... it’s a long hug, a warm cup of hot chocolate, and a big bowl of delicious pasta all rolled into one. It’s pure comfort.

Whoops… that got a little personal... But if I absolutely had to choose my favorite, its a toss up between Bloodbath (my beloved underdog) or Indulgences (my therapy session)

I hope you enjoyed reading these as much as I loved writing them. Each one holds a special little place in my heart. Please, please tell me what your favorites are (it feeds me)

[sideeve]

If you’re doing John wick, I have a few requests

1: a very fluffy one shot with John and reader

2: John is in the middle of a job at a nightclub and he asks the reader where his target is. The reader gives the info cause they’re fed up with the target being an asshole.

3: the marquis puts his significant other or sibling reader into a safe house to protect them from John wick.

i gotchu

you swirl you glass of liquor around, staring at the boring football game being displayed on the small television above you. you dreaded going to bars, but you were the gossip girl in this assassination field.

it was your job to know everything. who killed who, where they would be. everything. but spilling this knowledge came with a price.

“i don’t care who wins.” you roll your eyes, closing them as you take a gulp of your drink, the alcohol burning your throat. “i need information on the whereabouts of Ronan.”

the infamous Baba Yaga stalks over you, waiting for you to turn in your chair. “no convo prep?” you sigh, turning around in your chair. “what will i get in return?” you saw him reach down in his pocket, hearing the sound of coins click together. “save it. it was a test to see if you were serious. just kill the bastard.”

“such language. almost sounds like you hate him.” despite his stoic expression, you sensed a hint of humor in his tone. “i don’t care how you kill him. just make sure he doesn’t see the next sunrise.”

he chuckles. “what has he done to you for you to feel that way?” you take a breath, tryin not you get upset as you remember a few memories. “long story he left me for dead once.”

john hums. “i’ll take a stab another stab at him. as revenge for you.” he winks. from hearing all these horror stories from people who’ve encountered him, he seems like a genuine man.

“what about you? why are you goin’ after the man?” your body loosens. “ah,” he takes a sharp inhale, “i have a list of people who participated in taking my life away from you. luckily for you, he’s up there.”

“and luckily for you,” you pull out a notepad from your back pocket, scribbling some words and locations down before ripping the paper off, pressing it against his chest. “i know where he’s been.”

john’s eyes search through yours, finding a glint of attraction reflecting from him to you. “may your journey be quick and his death swift.” you hop off the stool, walking out the bar.

he skims over the paper, his eyes locking with a series of numbers and a “xoxo” written at the bottom. “what a woman.” he smiles, shaking his head, stuffing the paper in his breast pocket as he leaves the bar.

i haven't been sleeping good so if this doesn't make sense...i don't know what to tell you

[crowtrobotx]

As promised, for my beloved Heisenmoots, I have written a little something. Just a little extra. A little bit of Ethan suffering because he has to be friends with the worst old man on earth for the sake of Rose. As a treat. <3 This was kind of hastily written as an introduction to a modern/no village AU - if people like it I will happily add continuations to this and make it a little side series, just for yucks. I hope you enjoy and I love you all a disgusting amount. Title: A Rose and A Butterfly Word count: 3478 Characters: Ethan Winters, Rose Winters, Mia Winters, Karl Heisenberg, fem!OC, daughter!OC Warnings: None (unless you’re not cool with cursing)

When Rose came home and excitedly announced that she’d made a new friend, Ethan Winters couldn’t have been happier. He worried excessively about her at the best of times. With the move to a new town after Mia’s recent job change, he knew that they risked making her already precarious social situation even more fragile. Rose had struggled with forming lasting relationships at her old school, due in no small part to the rampant bullying that seemed to have gone unchecked by every single adult responsible for her with Ethan and Mia weren’t present. Perhaps it was a good thing that they all were getting a fresh start. Still, Ethan had tried not to let his expectations run too high. This had happened before, after all. Sometimes it turned out the other kid or kids in question were lying, pulling off some elaborate scheme to just break her heart in the end. Other times they simply drifted apart, deciding that they didn’t want to associate with someone so far down in the social pecking order. From his vantage point, Ethan was pretty sure being a young girl sounded like the most miserable, complicated experience he could imagine.

Fortunately, this time was different. He pulled up to the pick up location outside of the small town’s middle school to see Rose waiting with a much shorter, stockier girl, dark hair wrangled into two messy buns atop her head. There was a woman standing next to them who looked like she was probably her mother, given how their wild curls matched and the way Rose’s friend kept throwing her a pleading look that Ethan recognized well as the please, I’ll never ask for anything ever again I swear face. He rolled down the window of his SUV and waved politely at the two strangers.

“Dad!” Rose shouted excitedly. “This is my friend Lottie! Can I go over to her house?”

Before Ethan could even open his mouth to respond, Lottie had bounded up to the side of the vehicle and was peering up at him with a fiery gaze. “My mom already said yes,” she explained with a firm nod. “I promise we’re not a family of serial killers. Papa’s fridge in the garage is busted anyway, nowhere to store the organs.”

“Jesus - Lottie. Back up, sweetheart.”

Her mother urged her back onto the sidewalk and approached, laughing awkwardly. She reminded Ethan a bit what he imagined a cool art teacher would look like, with her leather jacket and dark jeans contrasted by several loud, colorful accessories. He could see a couple of tattoos poking out from under her clothes and the glint of a septum piercing flashed in the autumn sunshine. She lowered her voice and scratched the back of her neck, looking apologetic.

“I’m sorry, she’s–”

“She’s fun,” Ethan said with a sincere laugh. He could tell why they got along already - Rose had a wicked sense of humor and Lottie had already made it known that she lacked a filter. “I’m Ethan. I hear our daughters are friends.”

“Kris,” the woman’s shoulders relaxed at last. “I know you don’t know me, or my demon child, but I’m totally fine with Rose coming over. You wanna follow me so you know where she is? We can exchange numbers there.”

Rose practically buzzed with excitement the entire drive. It made Ethan nearly want to cry. The poor kid had been through so much - he had done all he could to protect her and nurture her, as had Mia - but there came a point when the world inevitably sunk its claws in and all he could do was sit back and pray that he’d equipped her properly to fight her battles. So lost in thought he was as they drove to a wooded, semi-rural area nearly at the city limits that he didn’t notice Kris’s “How am I driving? I’m not. This vehicle is driven by 700 rats.” bumper sticker until they’d nearly arrived.

Okay, this family was a teensy bit eccentric. It was fine. Rose seemed happy, that’s all that mattered. Kris appeared to be a perfectly competent person and the way his daughter talked about her friend (and how she’d decked a kid twice her size who’d said something nasty to Rose), he had no reason to think these weren’t decent people.

After pulling down the driveway to the house, obscured entirely from the road by thick trees, Lottie and Rose bounded out of their respective vehicles to meet on the lawn and whisper excitedly about whatever little plans they’d concocted. They ignored Ethan’s inquiries about any homework that needed done before scurrying up to the wide, covered porch. Ethan heard a dog barking excitedly when the front door opened, followed by Rose’s giggling and Lottie yelling “Sturm! Get down! You big idiot…”

“I’m sorry about the rusted out cars and shit out back,” Kris said, appearing at his side and gesturing to a rather impressive pile of junk partially visible behind the house. “My husband is a mechanic. He keeps swearing he’s gonna restore that crap or at least break it down for parts but I think aliens will invade before that happens. I promise the inside of the place doesn’t look like that - despite his best efforts.”

Ethan smiled. “Oh, it’s fine. You should see what my living room looks like when my wife decides to go on one of her crafting sprees.” Of course, a bunch of rusting metal that looked like a tetanus amusement park was a little different from a bunch of paper scraps and glue, but who was counting. “A mechanic, huh? We’re new in town. Would be nice to know a guy who could take a look at our cars. He any good?”

Ethan had said the last part as a joke.

“Oh, he sucks.” Ethan gaped. Kris smirked, looking fondly toward the garage. “I mean, he’s good at what he does. Really good. But he’s a cranky weirdo with the social skills of a feral raccoon. And yet, he’s my feral raccoon. I’ll make sure he fixes your shit if you ever need it.”

If the girls hadn’t already gone inside, Ethan might have considered suddenly remembering a very important engagement that he and Rose absolutely had to attend under any circumstances. His anxieties were quelled slightly over the next few minutes while he and Kris dissolved into pleasant small talk - he had the feeling she and Mia might get along well. They exchanged phone numbers and agreed upon a pickup time, Ethan insisting that she didn’t need to drive over and drop her off after offering to make dinner and ensure that any school projects got done.

“Better make sure that nothing’s on fire yet inside,” Kris said before bidding him farewell and disappearing through a side door.

Ethan stood still for a moment, trying to dispel his ever-present worry. He eventually took a few paces toward the car before, in the silence that followed Kris and the girls’ departure, he noticed the sound of a radio emanating from the garage. It was what Rose affectionately referred to as dad rock; this time it was “Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival. And it was loud. He supposed they didn’t really have to worry about bothering any neighbors out here, but he was almost offended on behalf of the local wildlife.

I should introduce myself, Ethan thought. It was only polite - his daughter was probably going to be coming over to the man’s house with regularity. Kris had made him sound like a curmudgeon, but Ethan was used to that sort of thing at work. At least half of the people who contacted his department were old guys who felt emasculated by the fact that they couldn’t figure out how to convert a Word document into a PDF.

He could handle him. How bad could he be?

As Ethan drew closer to the garage, he became aware of the sound of - and he didn’t use this word lightly - utterly horrific, off-tune singing accompanied by the light tink tink of someone trying to drum along in time with a wrench. He couldn’t see anyone through all the stacked up boxes, car parts and frankly odd bits and bobs - the whole place looked like it was one small seismic event from collapsing. Not to mention that the place smelled like a combination auto body shop and cigar emporium. He wasn’t sure what was more polite - to yell a greeting over the cacophony, or to quietly enter and risk scaring the man.

He opted for the former. “Hello? Mr. Uh. Lottie’s dad? Sir?” Ethan grimaced at his own unwieldy introduction.

The radio almost instantaneously shut off, followed by a frankly eerie silence. Ethan froze. He cleared his throat, trying to sound as pleasant as possible despite feeling like he’d just walked into a horror movie set. “I’m Rose’s dad? Lottie’s friend? I just dropped her off and wanted to–”

The hidden man poked his welding mask-clad head around the corner at last. His shoulder-length gray hair had frizzed in every direction, looking like the world’s dirtiest halo. He seemed to give Ethan a once over before lifting the mask up, grinning maniacally through his unkempt beard.

“Oh, so you’re Butterfly’s friend’s papa! Didn’t realize you were coming over! Have a seat over here, don’t be shy!”

Ethan was taken aback. This wasn’t the grouchy old man he’d been anticipating - he’d thoroughly expected to exchange a few manly grunts with him before retreating home to nurse a bottle of merlot and feel like he’d been chastised by his peepaw.

“Come on, come on, don’t got all day.”

Ah. There it was.

Ethan squeezed himself through the mess until he found a blessedly semi-clear space, complete with workbench and a couple of metal chairs. He could see now that the man had been working deep in an old car’s engine, and a pretty one at that. He couldn’t quite discern the make and model - a Firebird, perhaps? - but even in the low light he could see the cherry red paint, dashboard hula girl and goofy, fuzzy dice hanging in the rearview mirror. Ethan may not have been a big car guy but he knew a man’s baby when he saw one.

Lottie’s father leaned against the hood, arms crossed over a Def Leppard t-shirt that had seen better days, the print faded so much as to be near unrecognizable. Ethan sat down awkwardly in front of the workbench, charmed to see that in addition to the scattered blueprints and scribbled notes, there was an abundance of crayon drawings done no doubt by Lottie and pictures of her pinned everywhere on the corkboard hanging overhead. There were a couple of photos of him and his wife together, a couple magazine cutouts of antique vehicles, but to see this stereotypical looking man’s man dominate his space with pictures of and done by an 11 year old girl was strangely endearing.

“So,” the mechanic purred, “Lottie’s told me your girl and her are pals. Which means you and I have some bonding to do.”

“I guess so,” Ethan laughed, still somewhat wary. “I’m Ethan Winters. Rose is my daughter - we just moved here from the city a few months ago.”

“Heisenberg,” the man waved a hand, almost sounding bored. “Karl Heisenberg. I’m the poor asshole everyone around here calls when their shit breaks.”

“Yeah, Kris told me that you were a mechanic. I hope this isn’t presumptuous, but I’d love for you to take a look at my SUV when you have a chance - it started making this weird clunking noise when we were halfway through moving.”

“You met my wife?”

“I did, she–”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

Ethan laughed. Karl did not. This man is insane.

“I– uh, I wasn’t planning on it,” Ethan cleared his throat. He was frantically looking around now for the quickest exit, lest he end up on this week’s latest unexplained disappearance crime report. “We met up at school when the girls were out and we exchanged phone numbers just so we could coordinate play dates. I’m happily married myself, I assure you.”

At last, the mechanic’s serious face broke into a grin again.  “ Hah! Look at your face. Oh, calm down - I’m just yankin’ your leg. I know you’re not here for any nefarious purposes. You’d be pig slop in seconds if�� you ever tried anything.” Ethan did not want to know what that meant. “You want a beer, Winters?”

Jesus, yes. Ethan nodded. “That would be great, thanks… Karl.”

Karl handed him an open, half drunk can of PBR that was sitting on a nearby stool. He fished around in the broken fridge Lottie had mentioned earlier, helping himself to a fresh one. Ethan stared at the can in his hand, wondering privately when the cast from Punked! was going to burst through the door.

“Yeah, my Lottie said your Rose was having problems with one of the local asshole kids,” Karl said thoughtfully, as if what he’d just done wasn’t incredibly bizarre and off-putting. “What’s her name, Alice? Always thought that kid was a dick. I’ve taught Butterfly from the day she could talk to hit first, ask questions later. Might not be the popular parenting technique these days, but I don’t want her ever taking shit from someone who she wouldn’t go to for advice. Sounds like your kid’s been having some problems.”

Ethan thumbed the beer tab, unsure of how much he wanted to disclose to this relative stranger. “We’ve had to move a few times because of her mom’s job,” he explained. “It’s been hard on her. I worry. This is the first time Rosie’s had a friend last more than a few weeks.”

Karl raised an eyebrow. “Lottie’s a good kid. She ain’t gonna give your precious Rose grief unless she deserves it. By the way, what’s the deal? She stayin’ overnight or what?”

“It’s a Tuesday,” Ethan blinked. “School night? I wasn’t planning on it. Kris– uh, your wife said she’d give them dinner and then I was gonna come back around 7:30. If that’s alright?”

“Fine fine,” Karl took a swig from his can before swaggering over to an open toolbox, fishing through a massive selection of nuts and bolts. “Tuesday’s our movie night. Just wanted to make sure you’re not gonna be throwing off my plans. I’ve been working on this new popcorn machine prototype - those assholes at the patent office never appreciate my genius - that’s shaped like a dragon. It breathes popcorn out of its mouth like fire - fuckin’ sick, Winters. I think I fixed a little bug it had where it would, ah, also spew boiling hot butter into your face at the same time. Shame, that. Just because of a little thing like third degree burns, innovation stagnates.”

“Why.” Ethan stared. “Why… would someone want that?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Karl snarled, clearly offended. “You haven’t touched your drink I gave you, by the way.”

Ethan really needed to leave - Mia was probably wondering where on earth he was. He felt like he’d been hit by a bus, in all honesty. He’d gone from ecstatic to hear of Rose’s new friendship, to somewhat worried at her going to a new place, to simultaneously terrified and fascinated to meet the people he’d likely have to make nice with for his daughter’s sake. He wasn’t about to jeopardize the first good thing in her life in what felt like eternity, but he also had zero desire to spend any more time than necessary with this bizarre man he was getting extreme stoner uncle with a criminal history vibes from.

Mercifully, the tension was broken by an excited, high-pitched voice from outside.

“Papa! Look what Rose showed me!”

Lottie zipped through the maze of the garage with practiced ease, not paying any mind to Ethan. Karl’s face morphed from suspicious irritation to soft delight so quickly that it seemed like an entirely different man was standing in the room now, casting aside his drink to intercept his daughter and hoist her up into an affectionate embrace. Lottie shoved an item that Ethan recognized to be Rose’s small, engraved knife - a gift from Chris, one that had been entirely unnecessary but remained a prized possession nevertheless - into his face.

“Ah, she just has that in case of emergencies–” Ethan felt the need to explain, lest he look like a maniac in front of the actual maniac. He didn’t necessarily like that his daughter carried it around, but he also didn’t love the idea of her being completely unarmed in case of an emergent situation. His own life experiences had taught him that preparedness was far preferable to playing it safe, even if it wasn’t the way things should be.

“Fuckin’ cool,” Karl grinned like a madman again. “Too bad Mama won’t let you have one, huh? I’ll keep workin’ at her - don’t worry. Looks like plain old Ethan is more exciting than we thought.”

“Plain?” Ethan stammered.

Rosemary appeared at last, casting her father a hesitant smile. “We weren’t doing anything weird, I promise. Mrs. Heisenberg sent us outside because she uhm, she said she wanted to make sure Lottie’s dad wasn’t ‘terrorizing’ you.”

Karl feigned a look of hurt. “I can’t believe she’d ever believe me capable of such a thing! Oh, well. Never fear, Rose - your dad was just leaving, wasn’t he? And in one piece at that. You can assure the missus that nothing bad happened. We’re bros now, right? Ethan? Bros?”

“Papa,” Lottie rolled her eyes.

“We are not bros,” Ethan answered far, far too quickly. “Ah. Not yet.” Please god, not ever. “But, yes, I was just leaving. Thank you for looking after Rose. I’ll be back in a few hours. Unless you want to be picked up early?” He tried not to look too desperate while he waited for his daughter’s response.

“No, I’m good staying for dinner!” Rose rocked on her heels anxiously. “C’mon, Lottie, we better finish that science project so we can get to Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lottie groaned, resigned. “Papa, will you play with us later? When you’re done?”

Karl smirked, setting her down and giving a fiendish wink. “Only if you kids want your asses kicked.”

“Papa, you’ve literally never won–”

“Bye, girls!” he hummed happily. “Better get some practice in if you wanna have a prayer!”

The daughters exchanged a look before giggling at some secret joke and sprinting off again, leaving the two men in awkward silence again. Ethan stood, trying to think of a decent way to bid Karl farewell without expressing just how deranged he’d found this whole encounter. Fortunately for him, the mechanic spoke first, in a tone that seemed wholly different from their earlier interactions.

“They’re the best, huh? Those little girls. I’d raze a whole village to the ground if Lottie asked me to.”

Ethan blinked, taken aback. “I’d do the same for Rose,” he said without hesitation.

Karl looked back at him, oddly thoughtful for just long enough to be unnerving, before the demented sparkle returned to his eyes.

“So, anyway. When you come back to pick her up later, there’s this toaster I’ve been trying to modify that I want you to look at. To get the “every man” perspective or whatever. Ignore the fact that it sometimes talks about wondering if it has a soul or whatever, I’ll patch that out.”

“Oh, well see,” Ethan began walking back to his car at an unashamedly brisk pace. “Rose has a doctor’s appointment in the morning and I really shouldn’t linger. In fact, it might be my wife who comes and picks her up depending on how the yard work I’ve got piling up goes. But next time!”

Please let ‘next time’ be Rose’s graduation and no sooner.

“Winters! Hey! Get back here - ah, fuck you too. I’ll get your address from your wife and bring it over this weekend if tonight isn’t good! Are you even listening to me–”

Ethan Winters had never received a speeding ticket in his life. But as he peeled out of the Heisenberg driveway, still clutching the half full beer can, he wondered if it wouldn’t be worth it to put as much distance between himself and that strange man as humanly possible.

“Whatever,” he finally exhaled when he saw the dim glow of the main body of town coming into view. “He’ll probably forget all about me after a day or two. It’ll be fine. This is for Rose, after all. I can handle Lottie’s upsetting dad if it benefits her. What’s the worst that could happen?”

We’re bros now, right?

Ethan downed the rest of the drink once he was safely back in his own garage. It was going to be a long, long school year.

[gavillain]

Hihi! I love your writing, and your Maleficent writing tips are quite helpful! Do you have any tips on writing the Evil Queen as well?

Thank you so much! And sure, off the top of my head...

Much like Maleficent, you have to contextualize her as a character written for a mainstream audience in the 1930's so her speech shouldn't be too archaic or too modern and she's not really the type to use a ton of purple prose that young people wouldn't understand.

The biggest thing to understand about Grimhilde is that she has two distinct personalities, and they don't/shouldn't blend unless you're specifically doing something intentional with her character to where they would. You have the regal and elegant queen, and you have the sadistic and over the top witch.

As the queen, you're going to want to have a very controlled and poised persona. Every detail and every word is carefully chosen to put forth an image of being the Fairest One of All and the fearsome queen of the kingdom. She's slightly softspoken, but she's firm and commanding with assertive presence to every line. This is not a woman who can be argued with. She tends not to show her emotions very much on the surface, and usually when she emotes, it's in her eyes (particularly rage).

The witch form, on the other hand, is loud, over the top, hammy, and cackling. She has a dark and sadistic sense of humor, and she shows all of her emotions very physically and viscerally whether that's fury or wicked glee. Her speech is a lot less refined as well; she speaks more like a commoner with more colloquialism endemic to the time of the film ("I'll fix ya!"). Basically think of her as Grimhilde letting loose in contrast to the queen being very tailored and specific.

She's not insecure, she's not jealous of Snow White, she's prideful. There's a difference. She believes herself to be the greatest thing in history, and Snow White is a rival to that. She DETESTS a rival. She also does not care if there are alternate ways to deal with the situation. If someone rivals her, she wants them dead for the insolence of opposing her, intentionally or not.

This woman is obsessive and myopic - when she wants something, she laser focuses on it and will stop at nothing to get it done. The things that she prioritizes (mainly being the Fairest One of All) are all that matters to her. She's not one for distractions or for having her fingers in multiple pies at once.

She's also one of the cruelest and darkest Disney Villains. She will take things to any murderous length that she deems necessary, and woe to anyone who earns her wrath!

Magic wise, in the actual film we really only see her working with potions, but she has numerous books on spellcraft. Plus in the Romano Scarpa tie in comics and in the Kingdom Keepers books, she has a lot more occult abilities than she uses in the movie. She's full of magic spells and witchcraft. If you want to treat her as just an alchemist based on what we see in the film, you would certainly be justified in that, but I personally think it's more holistically canon to have her possess greater dark magic than that.

[camgoloud]

🌿💝💥💌

🌿 how does creating make you feel?

oh god. well honestly i feel like it depends very strongly on what exactly it IS that i’m creating… sometimes when i’m writing a character study or an intimate moment i feel intensely vulnerable and open, which is of course both terrifying and extremely cathartic… and then sometimes when i am writing humorous scenes or Cursed Concepts i feel so evil and wicked and pleased with myself the whole time. so which emotions i'm experiencing while i’m actually in the moment of creation can really be all over the map… but of course i can say that once i’ve actually finished creating something i always feel proud of myself! even at times when the piece didn’t come together as well as i was hoping it would in the end, there’s definitely something to be said just for that pure “oh i made a WHOLE NEW THING” sense of satisfaction :)

💝 what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

i’ll be honest, i really thought that Do my friends think I’m dying? (or do I just need to go to sleep?) would get about 20 hits total… i mean, it’s a recursive fanfic (inspired by the excellent good old fashioned lover boy) about an extremely minor ted lasso character with an unintelligible summary and the tags “yes I’ve written a reddit thread as a fic” “sorry except i’m not”; i was really just writing it to have a good time (and oh my god, did i have the BEST time…). but the response to it was actually quite warm, and MUCH larger than i was expecting! and not to brag lmao but i got Many compliments in the comments section about how convincing my various insufferable reddit personalities were… i guess i’ve found my calling! i’ve been meaning to write another reddit fic ever since, actually—it really was a blast

💥 find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

least kudos’d by raw numbers would be my most recent one, Philosophical Shifts in Teixcalaanli Xenocontact! (although i wouldn’t necessarily call it my least warmly received—the kudos-to-hits ratio on that one is actually fairly good, it’s just a very new fic for a very small fandom! but i didn’t go through and calculate K:H ratios on everything, so i’ll just talk about this one.) i think that with this fic i really nailed the voice of the narrator, three seagrass—from her speech patterns to the way she thinks about the world; her love for poetry to her partially-worked-through tendency to exoticize the foreign and the new to the detriment of everyone involved. she was a lot of fun to write and i’d love to try my hand at her again soon!

💌 share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

agh okay i’m always the WORST person in the world to talk to about wips because i will happily spin you elaborate tales about all the Concepts i’m currently working on and then you will just never hear about them again… but here’s a snippet from something for stranger things that I’ve been tinkering with off and on for AGES and really do hope to get finished… sometime in the next few years… i’m calling it “things that we were working on,” and em, this one goes right out to you: you know exactly what you did. <3

“Hold the phone,” Eddie interrupts, earning himself a glare and yet another eyebrow twitch, but he doesn’t even care to savor the rise he’s getting out of Higgins this time, because he is actually, genuinely desperate for an answer to the question he’s about to ask. “You’re telling me Steve Harrington is gonna be here? In detention?” This day really is just shaping up to be something else, isn’t it. Steve Harrington in detention? Hell had better not have frozen over yet; Eddie hates the fucking cold. “What’d he do?” 

Or, probably more accurately: what’d he do that they didn’t let him just get away with this time?

[fic writing asks here!]

[wickedlyqueer]

i've been thinking of starting the wicked novels. have you read all 4 novels? are they worth the read?

I have read all 4 novels, yes. And whether they are worth it or not... heavily depends on what you want to get out of them tbh.

WHAT TO PREPARE FOR:

dense prose that clearly has its roots in post-modernism. If you're not willing to read long sentences that begin with a deep analogy for racism and end with some sort of sexual innuendo or disturbing event, this is going to be a hard read for you.

Just. So much sexual stuff. which ironically enough you can also easily read over. (The second time I picked up on it sooo much more than the first time reading it. but in my asexual defense, how tf should i have known what "dragonsnaked" meant).

Similarly to the bullet point above: you can easily read over incredibly important plot points. This is because Maguire sometimes doesn't bother to elaborate; skips years within a single sentence; and is unforgiving to the mind who wanders while reads. There's a reason my notes look like this:

No consistency in character arcs whatsoever. This isn't your average fanfic or even YA novel. Just to put it into perspective: the book is called "The Life And Times of the Wicked Witch of the West". Which is just "Elphaba's Life". But Elphaba barely focalizes (her point of view), and when she does, it's at a point in the book where she's starting to lose her goddamn mind, so there's always a sense of an "unreliable narrator". So just know going in that the politics of Oz have the center, and especially in the later books all characters start to blend together, with a similar tone of voice and sense of humor.

Maguire—bless him and may god help him—cannot write women. He tries, he really does, but anything about the women anatomy is so unappealingly written and I was not the least bit surprised to learn he's gay lmao. He also has a tendency to turn women (especially when they get older) into "waifs". When in the fourth book he describes Glinda as being sad she never got kids I wanted to scream and rip my fucking hair out. Glinda Upland of the Arduenna Clan would never want to be a mother. She'd fucking hate it. And I'll forever hold it against Maguire for ever having suggested otherwise. (He also did something similar to one of my favorite side characters in the second book; Sister Apothecaire. She gets an absolute character assassination by the fourth book).

The biggest "reveal" in book four was literally spoiled by the family tree in the beginning of the book. 🤦 so there's a built up for like 300 pages and all the while you're like "WE KNOW!! WE ALREADY KNOW!!" which made book 4 a particularly frustrating experience imo.

WHAT TO LOOK FORWARD TO:

Understanding fanfics and other fan work much better. A lot of fanfic is based on a mix of musical and book ("booksical"). Even minor characters like Pfannee, Shenshen, Milla, Crope & Tibbet, will make an appearance, even when a fic is more musical based. This was the reason I decided to read the books too back in the day.

Also understanding (popular) interpretations in fanfics better. Like. I tend to write Elphaba as intersex, non-binary and bisexual. That looks very out of the blue when you only have the musical's context, where Elphaba is played by mostly feminine women. But once you read the book you look at those same headcanons and go "word".

Delicious gelphie (sub)text is there, if you want to look for it. But you do have to look for it (twas written in the 90s, lads).

Very queer, actually! And not just in the sense of like "there's a lesbian couple" like we see nowadays in media, but it's just... present. This is written by a gay man, and it shows. You can see queerness popping up everywhere. There's a lot of sexuality and gender stuff going on. And even though nobody goes "I am a trans man" or whatever, you sometimes read stuff and go "that's gender dysphoria babe, idk what to tell ya"

Once you get used to Maguire's writing style... he actually can write some pretty gorgeous prose and he writes with a lot of wit. I like his sense of sharp (dark) humor.

WORLD BUILDING! I honestly just read the other three books for world building for my own fics, more than anything.

FINAL VERDICT:

I do generally recommend reading at least the first book. Especially the first half of the book is just so solid. There's a reason why "Shiz Era" is so beloved in this fandom. Easily the best chapters out of the entire series. It gives so much more backstory to the musical (and bigger Oz lore). The latter half drags on imo, but that's also kinda the point?

The other three books..... depends. I read them for my world building in my fanfics. And I honestly found the second book to be rather cathartic, because it really goes through the motions of mourning Elphaba and that's what I kinda needed after the devastating ending of the first book, but I've heard other people say book 2 was their least favorite.

Basically. If Maguire hasn't utterly broken your spirit by the first book, the other three books still have plenty of joys in them. (For instance, I fucking love Nor. and whenever Glinda shows up in the sequels, it's always the biggest joy ever!)

Usually I describe the novels as such: "I didn't enjoy reading them, but I sure am glad I've read them."

[theforgottenmcrmy]

Growing Strong Chapter 13 Update and Preview

Hi guys! I hope you guys are having/had an awesome weekend.🖤 I just wanted to hop on here really quickly to apologize for the amount of time it’s taking me to get the next chapter of Growing Strong put together. I promise I am working on it though, and as proof, I’ve put two scene excerpts from it below. I’m a little under 2/3 the way done with it (with 90% of that being written over the past 2 days), and it’s already over 12,000k words, so it’s gonna be a doozy. It’ll be divided into 3 parts, but I wanted to make sure that all of it was written and edited before I start posting any of it, so that proper connections between chapters can be made and that there aren’t any major delays for those reading it.

Thank you all for your patience, and an extra thank you to those who have continued to follow and read this story.🖤🖤🖤

“I tried to convince her to see reason once before,” Queen Alicent confessed quietly, staring blankly into the flames of the roaring fire across the room. “But I fear I was too… brazen, then. Such an oversight cost me dearly. I will not make that mistake again. There may yet be another chance to sway her to see the truth. She is a mother now, and no mother desires her children to live through times of war.”

Ah, yes. The children. Two of which had almost become collateral damage in Larys’s unyielding quest to appease his Queen. They were safe, for now, but there was no telling what would need to be done. All three of the children might still become pawns in the larger scheme of the game that he and their parents played. But what Queen Alicent did not know would not always hurt her.

Larys would protect her. He would protect her interest by ensuring that his brother and Good Sister were none the wiser about the tragic fire at Harrenhal. And, if there were any lingering suspicions, well…

Larys was no gardener. But he thought himself more than capable of pruning a few roses.

“You look well, Lord Beesbury.”

“You flatter me, my dear. I turned six and seventy earlier this year, did you know?”

“Forgive my failed memory, My Lord. If it is any consolation, you do not look it.”

Lord Lyman gasped. “My goodness, Lady Y/N. You have a dark sense of humor, I shall grant you that. I suppose the gods would prefer it if I ‘book it’, wouldn’t they?”

Time had granted you leave to forget how hard of hearing Lord Lyman truly was. Louder and more clearly, you corrected, “No, My Lord. You do not look to be six and seventy. Look.”

“’Crook’?” Lord Lyman inquired bewilderedly. He looked about the room with a disapproving look upon his face. “... Yes, I am inclined to agree. These are the proceedings of a ‘crook’.”

In front of you, you could have sworn you heard Prince Jacaerys snicker as though he had overheard your conversation. But there was no doubt Prince Daemon had overheard, and found the conversation rather amusing- his shoulders bobbing with his silent laughter gave him away.

***scenes subject to change with final edits***

TAGLIST:

@whitetigerlover17 @littlebirdgot @te5s3ract  @nerdboylover @piper570 @ephemeralninon @linkpk88  @kaygilles @hippzella @wicked-hg @thatgaytevinter @nowheredreamer @ateliefloresdaprimavera  @saintspector @thebigbadbatswife @blazinglioness @itevilhag @chlo-feigh @bettybrainrot  @liadamerondjarin @fuckmylifedudee @hippzella @my-dark-prince @sweetestrose569 @kaygilles @lol-im-done @im-married-to-chris-evans @chetpuff @venus2eros @wicked-hg @mamamooqa  @prettymingwoo @bxdbxtxh15 @ateliefloresdaprimavera  brbaabs @novazoldyck @hoyaharper @shanzeyxsyed  @microwaveallthedemons @piper570   @fireghost-x @lakamaa12 @holb32 @thesheelfsworld  @inkareds @fuckoffthanos @mortallyspookyglitter  @akinatrix @bingewatche @guerraandpaes @nonniecannie @mousse-au-citron @autumnleaves1991-reads @thesithdiaries @potatingpotato-reads @perpetual-exhaustion21  @sinful-wxrld @marvelcriminalhoe2 @redpool @blazinglioness @re-enjoy @itevilhag @jfcreading @prettywhencry1234 @dankpunks @justonemore-fic @yonduismarrypoppins @luckyplums1 @logiclies @avoirlu @iunknownveritgo @theflowerpot @anoymousbye @strawbbyjamb @landofdreamsworld @green-beanie @queenofterrasen418 @michovisk @psychwardsiren @green-lxght @smptxx @electric-bloo @acciowolfstar1 @good-night-starlight @never-not-eating @minetticawonderland @idkjj04 @raven-queenworld @marvel-ousnesss @ibong-adarnaaa @answer-the-sirens @harwinstrongwife @writings-i-like @blazinglioness @hallway5 @aprilfooledyou @qhuedie @ryugujii-ken @rebloggalore @rainydaylady420 @crowssixof @moonlight-dragon @severewobblerlightdragon @poohxlove @mrs.tangerinejohnson @jrosefangirl @roguephoenix1 @serenatonin @agentstarkid @lucyysthings @byudssc @nairafeather @thanyatargaryen @mostclevermiss​​ @tearsarcane​​ @andyrazzledazzle​​ @whiterosesblackroses​​ @rainyasff @her-fandom-sanctum​​ @but-i-never-loved-me @thegeminithrone​​ @evyiione​​ @captainbuckyboobear​​​ @prettykinkysoul​​ @just-someone11​​ @myriacastleisnotmyname @stargaryenx​

[dannythedog]

hey fam, saw your post. can you do me a sammy scenario where he and y/n are friends and he confesses that he's in love with her?

With Movies Come Confessions: Sam Kiszka x Y/N

Of course!! Thank you so much for requesting! Sorry if this is a little rough, this is the first thing I've written in years.

~

Sitting in bed just wasn't an option anymore. The gray walls of your bedroom were slowly driving you insane, reminding you slightly of a short story you read in school.

You didn't bother changing out of your leggings and tee. You simply needed to get out. Grabbing your phone and keys, you texted your best friend Sam on the way out of your apartment. He and his brothers were just the people you needed tonight.

'Hey, Sammy. I need to come over. It's an emergency.'

'What? Of course you can come over. Is everything okay?'

You giggled at his sweet concern. Sam was always so caring, it made your cheeks burn and heart flutter.

You pushed those thoughts out of your mind. He was your rockstar best friend. There wasn't room to think like that.

'I'm DYING of boredom. Be there in 15 :)'

You ignored the dings of your phone on your drive over to the Kiszka residence. It was surely Sam telling you off for scaring him like that.

As you pulled up, you were greeted with a scowling Sam through the living room window. His long brown locks fell in front of his eyes as he pouted his pink lips and shook his head. You felt your heart clench at the sight of him, butterflies arising at the fake intensity of his gaze.

"You scared me, idiot," he groaned when you waltzed through the door.

You laughed at his attitude. "But it was an emergency! I would've died if I went one more day without you guys."

"Damn right you would've. We're just the best people you know!" Josh called from the kitchen.

The clinking of bottles and the sound of the microwave led you to where the other two Kiszka boys were.

"I'm glad you could join us," Jake smiled coolly. "We were gonna get tipsy and watch movies."

"Sounds fantastic to me," you grinned, grabbing an already filled shot glass and tossing it back. The liquid burned as it went down, helping you get rid of the butterflies Sam had caused.

"Here's a bowl of popcorn, and you should just bring the bottles of liquor. We don't need to be burdened by the formalities of glasses," Josh ordered while making his way to the living room.

Sammy helped you scoop up the bottles and remaining bowls of popcorn before settling into a little nest on the loveseat. Josh had already turned on some rom-com that didn't look interesting in the slightest.

"Do you want some of my blanket?" Sam's breath fanned over your ear sending chills through your body. He had leaned in close as to not disturb his brothers.

The proximity of your faces made your own heat up. You desperately wanted to push these feelings away, but Sam was so captivating. The way his eyes were so expressive, his cheekbones caught the light perfectly giving him a pretty glow, the way he unabashedly cared for you. All of those qualities made you convinced he was out of your league. There was nothing but friendly feelings from his side.

"Sure," you nodded. He draped half of his blanket over your legs, scooting closer as he did so.

You tried to ignore the electricity coursing through you, but the way he was leaning into you made it impossible. With every brush of your fingers as you reached into your shared popcorn bowl, you grew visibly more flustered.

"Are you okay?" Sam questioned, chocolate brown eyes scanning over your face.

"Yeah, this movie is just too cute. It makes me sick," you lied. "I just kinda wish I had something like that sometimes."

Sam gazed at you quietly. You were afraid you made your feelings obvious somehow.

"Why don't you have something like that then?"

You stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He reached for your hand, gently cupping it in his own.

"You're beautiful," he started. "You're kind and fun. You have a wicked sense of humor. You're warm and you just feel like home."

Your hands began trembling, movie long forgotten by now. Did he mean these things? The pink tint on his cheeks says yes, but he was an affectionate guy. He was just trying to be a good friend.

"Thanks, Sammy," you said through an airy laugh. "But you don't need to flatter me."

"No, Y/N, I mean it. Every word. Yeah, you're my best friend and this might fuck everything up, but I want to give you everything in the movies. God, for years now I've been dying to just hold your hand or cuddle up with you at the end of the night," his eyes held truth and intensity. You felt those butterflies bubble up in your stomach once again.

"If you'd let me, I'd like to give you every ounce of love I have. I love you, Y/N."

Your heart soared at his confession. You were speechless. Sam Kiszka loved you. The same kind of love you had for him. His eyes began to dart around, nervous that your silence meant rejection.

"If you don't want that, then I understand completely. I just thought-"

You cut him off by lacing your fingers through his silky mane.

"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to hear that," you grinned, pulling Sam closer.

His fingers danced around your waist, a new nervous energy filling the air. One of uncharted territory.

His nose brushed yours. "Is it too soon to kiss you?"

You shook your head and he closed the distance. His soft lips pressed against yours gently, filled with sparks and unspoken feelings. He kept a hand planted firmly on your waist as the other travelled up to caress your cheek.

When he pulled away, you couldn't help but trail after him a bit. You were completely mesmerized by the feel of his skin on yours. A new drug to you.

"I'd love to kiss you all night, but my brothers are still in the room. I'm shocked they haven't said anything yet."

You giggled and glanced at the twins. The television had them in a trance. You cuddled into Sam's side, content for now.

"Stay the night with me?" he muttered into your hair.

You softly nodded, placing a sweet peck to his hand. "Anything to be close to you."

~

Hi!! I hope you liked it! I wasn't quite sure where this was going to go, but I think it turned out cute. Please feel free to send in more requests!!

[ingravinoveritas]

My first impulse after watching this clip was to comment how David is going to have a coughing fit when he sees this, but I remember the Doctor Who era and this man will not be easily shocked, nor flustered, when it comes to fandom and smut. Sometimes I feel like I'm one of the very few people in the fandom who know how very much not innocent and oblivious David Tennant is. So many suggestive jokes, flirting and kissing and teasing about fanfiction and different ships. He's just as much of a bastard as Michael. 🙄 We'll be having a blast during the next few years with these two, gosh.

I absolutely love, love, love what Michael said tonight, and not just for obvious reasons.

As much as I love Graham Norton and believe he is funny and quick and truly a talented interviewer, I have really come to dislike what he does with fanfic/fanart. In any number of past interviews, Graham has brought up fan works, and not only read excerpts of fanfic starring the actors he has on as guests, but shown them pieces of (often explicit) fanart drawn to look like them, too. It’s a “bit” of his that hangs on the edge of derision, not-so-subtly being condescending toward fan works and insulting the people who create them by trying to make the actors who play these roles uncomfortable, and a lot of the time, it works.

But not with Michael Sheen.

I have written on this blog before and been saying for years how much I wish the subject of fanfic would come up while Michael is on Graham’s show. Because I knew--I knew--Michael would not flinch. And like you said, Anon #2, Michael not only didn’t flinch, he brought up fanfic first, and--apropos of ABSOLUTELY NOTHING--talked about how gay it all is and actually uttered the words “me and David Tennant having sex.” I mean...you’re really going to try and embarrass the man who does that? Who openly defended fanfic right when GO first came out? Who has definitely read and/or written GO fanfic/possibly read RPF and probably has his own account on AO3 with bookmarks that I am DYING to see?

Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. Not today, Satan. Not today.

(By way of disclaimer: This does not mean I endorse sending Michael fanfic. As my good friend @daziechane pointed out, Michael may wholeheartedly approve of it, but that does not mean it’s okay to send him fic. Especially since he knows good and god damn well where to get it if he wants it. Oh, yes...)

As for David, Anon #1, I am completely with you, because David is not even remotely as innocent or oblivious as some people think or as he pretends to be. I discovered that myself a while back when I started getting more into David, and his sense of humor is completely wicked and dirty...he’s just more discreet about it (these days, at least). But all I could think of is how David would have reacted if he was with Michael on the show, and there is no doubt in my mind that he would have smiled and happily nodded along with everything Michael said, just like he always does.

Hell, I’d be willing to bet that if/when David watched Michael tonight, he texted him right after that wanting to know exactly what fanfics Michael has been reading. Or maybe they FaceTimed, just so David could see Michael’s face. I imagine their expressions would have been something like this (but more intimate and cuter because David would have his glasses on and it would be just the two of them):

There is no question that this is just the beginning. GO 2 isn’t even finished filming yet, and Michael is champing at the bit to talk about him and David having sex. I MEAN. And the best thing is that Michael and David will encourage and egg each other on with the suggestive comments and innuendo. They also did it on the first press tour, of course, but now things are so different, and Michael and David have gotten SO much closer over the past year that the press tour for GO 2 is going to make the first press tour look subtle in comparison. And I, for one, cannot wait.

I didn’t want to get my hopes up high for 2022, but to start off the year this way just feels correct, and like maybe things won’t be so shitty after all. Michael Sheen is truly the gift that keeps on giving, and we (and David Tennant) are so lucky to have him...

[vrishchikawrites]

You know what would be cathartic?

JC getting the ass whooping he deserves.

I can't get over how he gets zero repercussions for the massacre of the Wen remnants as well as torturing and murdering who knows how many people for 13/16 years... Etc. Sure after Guanyin temple we get a spark of hope that he might at least mend his ways, but then in the extras he's back to his old ways so 🤷

The only post canon I accept for him is that he finally manages to cross one line too many and someone just beats the shit out of him and wipes the floor with his mug (preferably WN or LSZ because those two are such good boys and they deserve a little violence as a treat but LWJ and WWX could get to let out some steam as well) meanwhile the rest of the cultivation world watches on like "yup he had it coming"

(this is way, way post canon but I had a vision in my head. I hope it works)

Age has done nothing to temper Jiang Wanyin's personality. He's still entirely too quick to anger, always a hair's breadth away from violence. Lan Xichen finds it distasteful but he's a Sect Leader and must maintain proper relationship with his peers.

His amiable masks strains, just a little, when his youngest nephew is pushed back by the fury of Jiang Wanyin's blade.

It was supposed to be a lesson but Xichen knows Jiang Wanyin's true motives.

Lan Zhenxing is Wangji and Wuxian's youngest child, adopted when he was discarded at the gates of Cloud Recesses as a little baby. He may as well be Wei Wuxian's natural-born son, given how much he resembles him in personality.

His uncle is very displeased but Wangji is not-so-secretly enamored. Nothing pleases him more than finding traces of his husband in their son.

The quality that Wangji adores, Jiang Wanyin detests.

Xichen has always wondered why Jiang Wanyin is so determined to remain bitter. It hurts no one but himself. Wuxian has moved on, it isn't in his brother-in-law's nature to linger in the past. Xichen has witnessed his blissful happiness first hand and is forever grateful it turned out this way.

There's no reason why Jiang Wanyin couldn't follow the same path; build his family, nurture new ties, and take the path of peace.

Now, as he watches Jiang-zongzhu pressure his little nephew, his 14-year-old baby Lan, he can't help but feel angry.

It is supposed to be a lesson, a way to correct the child's sword grip, a way to help him become lighter on his feet.

Xichen had permitted it, nudging his intimidated nephew gently.

It was a mistake.

His little nephew's face is white and eyes are wide. He is visibly terrified and there's no parent in the crowd unbothered by it. He sees several cultivators step forward with disapproving frowns. There are a few who even dare to call Jiang Wanyin's name, asking him to slow down.

The Cultivation world is very familiar with the man's temper but this is the first time they see his capacity for ruthlessness so starkly.

"Jiang Cheng," Xichen turns around to see Wei Wuxian walk forward and breathes a sigh of relief. Wangji is nowhere to be found but he assumes he's still engaged in writing a report of their most recent Nighthunt.

The differences between Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian couldn't be more stark.

Wuxian has a genial air and a youthful face. He barely looks like a father of three children, two of them already adults. Diligence and innate brilliance have allowed him to reach new heights of cultivation.

In terms of power, no one but Wangji is his match.

Jiang Wanyin, in contrast, has the look of a bitter, worn-down man. Xichen has always found it fascinating.

In Wei Wuxian, that Golden Core had thrived and shone with the brilliance of the Sun. In Jiang Wanyin, it has lost all of its lustre. It remains powerful, but nowhere near as potent as it should be.

Twenty three years ago, Wei Wuxian had gotten a weak body and a weak core. He build it up again and now he stands tall, strong, and practically glowing with the might of his spiritual prowess.

It is perhaps the person, not the core itself, that determines a cultivator's power.

Wei Wuxian steps between a furious Jiang Wanyin and his son, running a gentle hand over the boy's head to reassure him, "Go keep your A'die company, a-Xing. He's stuck with paperwork and would love a distraction."

All traces of fear have already left Zhenxing's face and he is back to his good-humored self. He bows to his father and Jiang-zongzhu cheerfully and walks away.

Wei Wuxian stares down at Jiang Wanyin with no trace of kindness on his face. The gentle father is gone, this is the Wei Wuxian his brother has carefully brought out with years of love and unceasing devotion.

Confident, self-assured, and absolutely unwilling to be anyone's victim.

"If you're angry, take it out on someone who can actually beat some sense into you, Jiang Cheng."

"Wei Wuxian!"

"Jiang Wanyin," His brother-in-law echoes mockingly, "Did you think you could harass my son and I would just let it go?"

"He's a weak if he needs your protection, even now." Jiang Wanyin says and Wuxian's expression turns frosty.

He unsheathes Suibian, "It seems like you need a sound thrashing."

Xichen coughs to conceal his laugh as Jiang Wanyin scowls furiously and rushes at Wuxian.

It is a short match. Sandu races forward and Wuxian spins out of its way, Suibian singing through the air as he cuts a shallow slash across Jiang Wanyin's chest.

The sight of blood silences everyone.

Wei Wuxian doesn't falter. It would seem everyone has forgotten just how ruthless the Yiling Laozu can really be when provoked. Wuxian presses Jiang Wanyin like the Sect Leader had pressed Lan Zhenxing. He becomes a swift, merciless, overwhelming force that has Jiang Wanyin scrambling backwards to avoid the more deadly strikes.

All the while, Wei Wuxian is calm, his lips quirked and clothes unruffled. He spins in a flurry of rich black silks and brings Suibian down with such force, Jiang Wanyin loses control of Sandu.

The sword clatters to the ground and Jiang Wanyin looks up at Wei Wuxian with fury and embarrassment.

"My son is weak, huh?"

One must wonder, Xichen thinks absently, how a man with every advantage in his corner manages to squander his potential so completely.

Jiang Wanyin is of noble birth, handsome in appearance, and posses a golden core that had immense potential.

And yet.

Xichen shakes his head as other cultivators nod in approval of Wei Wuxian, murmuring among themselves.

Apparently, no earthly advantages can overcome the faults of one's character.

"The good and righteous are always strong," His uncle says with grim satisfaction and Xichen looks at him in surprise, "Even if their bodies are weak." He thinks back on the young Wei-gongzi, back from the dead in a weak body. "The wicked and resentful are always weak." Lan Qiren starts walking away, following Wei Wuxian out of the training field, "Regardless of the power they hold."

Xichen looks back at Jiang Wanyin, who is stalking away with humiliation written on his face, ignoring the disapproving frowns aimed at his back.

What a pity.

[karoiseka]

And three makes a Chorus

((Welcome to the longest thing I’ve written ever for fun, and I’ll prob be making a second chapter from a different point of view.  I started writing this months ago, finished it almost 2 months ago I think, and have been picking at it/editing it since.  I finally got it done enough and started taking screenshots, so, without further ado, some backstory from Thancred’s POV of the start of the Trio.  I really... need a tag/name for this...  Mostly under a cut, because it’s 7.2k words.  Posting to AO3 as well tonight.))

"You love her."

It wasn't a question so much as a quiet declaration coming from the Exarch's lips aimed at the misplaced Scion's heart.  The wind tugged at their clothes, standing atop the watchtower overlooking Lakeland, mere weeks after Thancred had been called to the First.  Leaning back trying to escape into what little shade there was against the everlasting Light, he ran a hand through his hair before crossing his arms defiantly.

"So what if I do?" Beyond learning the lay of the land and the new odd phrases and terminology, the conversation between the two always seemed to swing like a compass back to her--Karoiseka--the Warrior of Light. Today was no different as they ran errands around the Crystarium together, the Exarch hungry for more tales of the Source and Karo herself.  Thancred had commissioned a coat from the skilled vendors in the city which had arrived, and the two of them had picked it up along with the other provisions he had asked for with it.  He felt more confident--more himself--finally in clothes that were meant for battle instead of the civilian attire he had been wearing since arriving.  The startled looks from the residents seeing him in his new garb washed over him as they wandered fairly aimlessly until the Exarch had seen the watchtower and angled their path to it.  There they had stood vigil until the statement was made.

Silence hung heavy between them once more, Thancred making a note of the pursed lips of his companion, rigid stance, and the tight grip with which he held his staff.  He was learning that for all that the Crystal Exarch seemed to lean towards secrecy, his body language always seemed to scream his true feelings on the matter--he was a horrible liar.  Shaking his head with a sigh and small smile, he turned his face towards the Light--eyes squinting unused to it's relentlessness.

"I didn't mean to, you know, and to my knowledge she isn’t aware," his voice soft in the stillness.  "I always trusted her though--there was just something familiar about her the entire time.”  He let memories wash over him of their initial meeting in the Waking Sands, and the mission after that was supposed to have been a gentle introduction to what the Scions did, and ended in her facing off against Ifrit--alone.  From that moment on, he had raced to keep up, watching as she effortlessly pulled away from any and all limits the world tried to set upon her.  Lahabrea of course hadn’t helped in that, waking up from the nightmare months later to her light breaking him free from the darkness that had held sway over him for so long.  

"You've not met her though, and it's hard to describe her otherwise--sort of like  trying to describe the night's sky to the people here who've never seen it,” Thancred let his eyes dart back to his companion, whom, to his relief, was starting to calm somewhat.  “She only opens up to those she trusts, and to be on that short list is something I know I don’t deserve.  She’s got a wicked sense of humor, a heart bigger than the star itself, and more fierce than a mother coeurl.”  His eyes shut against the bright Light, more memories poured through unbidden.  Her excitement telling him about the Crystal Tower, her quiet comfort when she had finally found him again in Dravania, her collapse after visiting the Aetherial Sea and saying goodbye to Minfillia.  The last night he was there in Ala Mhigo, her skin against his, soft cries into the night–

Thancred physically pushed himself away from the wall with a shake of his head, attempting to clear the heavy thoughts from not only his mind.  The Exarch had his head tilted to the side, silently questioning the sudden movement.  The pose was so like Karo’s and every other Miqo’te he had ever met, he had to choke down a laugh.  For all his wanting to stay incognito, the Lord of the city was a poor actor when it came down to it.  It would fool the other Scions well enough if they were here, however, espionage and intrigue was Thancred’s specialty, and he could see right through the stiff acting and posturing.  Well, for whatever reason for hiding his Miqo features, he wouldn’t expose the man.

“You’ll see if you succeed in pulling her here,” he put on a friendly smile before letting it turn into a smirk, “If she doesn’t have your head for pulling her in without warning.  It’s not a pleasant sensation, so I imagine she’ll be more than a little cranky.”  The Exarch looked properly guilty for the comment, head and shoulders bowed, mouth twisted in a grimace.  

Ah, I’ve teased the poor man enough.  Another pair of long strides, and Thancred clasp a hand in between the metal decorations on the Exarch’s robe.

“Come, you’ve a practice field somewhere around here, yes?  I’d like to try out my new kit and make sure I’m familiar with it before heading out into the field,” The change of topic was enough for the smaller man to straighten his shoulders, leading the way down the watchtower stairs.  Thancred cast one more look over his shoulder into the expanse, praying it wouldn’t be long until he saw his companions again.

Four long years had passed Thancred by.  The First was now almost as familiar as Eorzea, it’s people so similar and yet so foreign.  The years hadn’t been easy, after rescuing Minfillia (for how could he not?), he had kept them on the move for most of the time since.  There were long periods of spending time in the Crystarium whenever the Exarch was preparing to attempt to summon the Warrior of Light again, and even more time spent in Il Mheg with Uriganger after he made his home there among the Fae folk.  The time in between was spent wandering, keeping out of Eulmore’s eye to hide away the Oracle of Light to keep her safe, and to take down any of the larger Sineaters the guard was having trouble with. 

They were in the Crystarium now, awaiting a fifth summoning.  Alphinaud had arrived mere weeks prior, and Thancred was not going to be surprised if it was his sister Alisaie that ended up in the Ocular instead of Karo.  He had left Minfilia in the Cabinet of Curiosity, reading studiously of recommended tomes from Urianger as he leaned against one of the Ocular doors.  Thancred heard, rather than felt the aether pop as the summoning completed, a soft thud on the marble floor.  Not waiting for permission, he pulled the door open, unsurprised to see shock white hair instead of the sable and blue he had been hoping for anyway.  The Exarch was kneeling, leaning against his staff, gasping with the exertion the spell had taken from him, even with the boundless power of the Tower at his beck and call.  Alisaie, was just starting to stir, clutching her head as Thancred quickly covered her with his coat from the chill.  A side effect of being summoned was not having a stitch on them, and he knelt protectively by her side.  Blue eyes slowly came into focus, glancing around her, first in both confusion and relief at the friend at her side, then eyes narrowing in anger at the hooded stranger.

“Back–” her voice cracked as she tried to speak, slowly gaining in volume, and franticness as she realized Karo wasn’t at her side. “I have to go back, you have to send me back!  She’s all alone!! YOU HAVE TO SEND ME BACK!” Alisaie’s voice was raw, screaming in anguish and already trying to stand to lunge at the Exarch.  Thancred held her back, holding her close as the young girl shook.  She didn’t look a day older than he remembered, though it had been almost four years for him.  Her hair was down, giving her an even more feral look than normal.  

“He can’t,”  Thancred’s voice was soft and weighted with pain sharp enough to cut through Alisaie's panic.  “He’s tried with me and the others more times than we can count.  She’ll be next.  She has to be,”  voice low and soothing as he could, she twisted to look at him, eyes wide before collapsing into his arms sobbing into his shoulder.

"I begged her not to leave me alone," words, jagged, escaped between heaving cries. "but, but here I am, and she's not, and now she's alone, and Gods.  Thancred, she's so broken!" The last word came out as a wail, echoing through the chamber.  Securing his coat around the young Elezan, he picked her up, barely registering her slight weight in his arms.  

"I'm taking her to her brother," Thancred was already starting towards the exit, but he spared a cold glance to where the Exarch still knelt upon the floor, staff lowered now to rest next to him, head bowed low in his failure.  He was almost to the Tower's main doors when he heard the almost inhuman howl of grief echo through the Tower, and wondered once more what Karo truly meant to the man who was half crystal.

The rumors had reached even Thancred and his charge, far from civilization that they were.  The Warrior of Darkness was returning night to the land.  A surge of jealousy and dismay had powered through him when he realized that he hadn’t been asked to return to the Tower for the final summoning, realizing that it meant that she was finally here.  Logic dictated that the Exarch didn’t know where he was all the time, and perhaps they just hadn’t come across one of his missives, having gone deeper into hiding the past few moons than ever before.  It didn’t help the irrational hurt that he wasn’t there to greet her when she arrived, mostly after learning about how much she had mourned on the Source for him–for all of them.

The starry night sky blanketed Lakeland as he patrolled around the evening’s campsite.  He had left Minfilia by the low fire, her blue eyes wide, still in awe of the speckled sky.  The constellations were different from what Thancred was used to seeing, but it was still a huge relief to be steeped in darkness once more.  With the darkness brought a different sense of security for this strange land, the Sin Eaters disinclined to stay away from the Light.  Some still roamed the land, but overall their presence was much reduced, and he had let his guard down just enough.  Too much he realized, returning to an empty camp, blanket left by the fire, and Minfilia gone.  Cursing, he banked the fire as quickly as possible, and set about tracking his charge, hoping he caught up to her in time.

The ships of Eulmore had, of course, found her first.  Whatever could have caused her to leave the safety of his side, of the campfire, was beyond his knowledge, he just knew he had to get her back.  Setting a brutal pace to the Crystarium, Thancred stopped shortly after passing Laxen Loft.  Something was afoot as he watched flights of Amaro darting across the morning lit sky.  The Exarch and the Crystarium were already moving against the forces at Laxen Loft it seemed, so he could bid his time and plan.  Circling the fortress of eld, it wasn’t hard to find the Crystarium’s best huddled waiting near the main entrance, waiting for—something.  His answer came soaring high above as even more amaro started to circle, the air shimmering below them.  Biting back a laugh, he had to applaud the ingenuity of whomever came up with the idea of using dream powder to subdue the bulk of the superior force.

Waiting for the troops to take to the field, he used their diversion to creep through undetected himself.  He knew she would be deep in, most likely close to the airships for a quick retreat.  He could hear another set of amaro approaching, dropping off reinforcements, but his quarry was not yet in sight.  Ducking behind another pillar, he turned only to have the breath knocked out of him.  Though all dressed in the guard’s uniform of the Crystarium, there, finally in front of him, was the Warrior of Light–Karoiseka.  Flanked by the twins, her arrows were flying as accurate as usual, crippling instead of killing as Alisaie rained fire upon the startled Eulmoran soldiers and Alphinaud protected them both, carbule darting across the field seemingly everywhere at once.

All other thoughts escaped as he drank in the sight of her, blue eyes flashing looking for an opening to dart ahead.  Her blue-tipped hair still fell in front of her face, unchanged since he last saw her smiling across the Ala Mhigan conference table.  He watched her slip between patrols, sheathing her bow and sprinting down the path, mere fulms away.  Cursing under his breath, he realized that he was daydreaming in the middle of the battlefield as the tip of her tail disappeared from view, and he darted up the stairs next to the path they took to watch from above, all original plans scattered from his mind at seeing her once more.

A familiar blue crystal hand clutching an equally familiar golden staff disappeared around the corner ahead of him, and he put on a burst of speed to catch up with the Exarch.  I’ve never seen him this far from the Tower, what is he up to?  Slowing down reaching the corner,  Thancred cleared his throat as he almost ran into the top of the Exarch’s staff which was pointed directly at him.

“Oh!” The staff was immediately lowered as the shorter man recognized who had snuck up on him.   “Thancred, I’m not surprised to see you here, but I am for the circumstances.  What happened?”  Giving as brief a summary as he could, Thancred explained what had transpired as they were headed to the Tower.  The Exarch nodded, listening intently, and only asking a few pointed questions to fill in gaps of his own knowledge.

“As you saw, Karoiseka has made it here to the First.  The moment she heard who was being held here, she insisted on being here to help, as did the twins,”  tapping his chin, the Exarch thought a moment longer before finally looking up at Thancred, mouth set in a serious line.  “There’s one more thing you should know,”  he took a deep breath before continuing on.  “Ran’jit is here.”  Muscles tensed and jaw clenched as a sharp inhale was the only sound that came from the gunbreaker.  They hadn’t been talking for long, but just the phrase made Thancred want to abandon the conversation and bolt for Minfilia and Karo, to keep them far from the Eulmoran general.  Sheer willpower was the only thing that kept him rooted, and the hand that tried to placate.

“I have a plan,” the shadowed face did nothing to hide the smirk nor the mischievousness out of the Exarch’s voice.  “Karo is undoubtedly freeing Minfilia as we speak, and the group will move to evacuate as quickly as possible.  If the general catches them, you will be our trump card in this situation.”  He spoke quickly but quietly, knowing  they didn’t have much time.  “You’ll distract while I prepare a short teleport spell to whisk you outside of the Fortress, then you and the others from the Source with the Oracle can escape to Il Mheg,”  Thancred had moved to cross his arms during the explanation, but at that a single eyebrow shot up.  

“Well, that would certainly give them pause in following,”  Thancred took a deep breath to calm his racing heart.  “How much time do you need to prepare the teleport spell?”

“Only a few moments, but it would help if you’re all close, and no enemies about,” The Exarch was fiddling with something deep in a pocket of his robes before straightening.  “Shall we then?  Besides the airships, the only exit to where they were holding the Oracle is the path our Warrior took, so they should be returning the same way.  I’ll watch from up here so I have both locations in view.”  A curt nod, and Thancred headed back down the steps to his hiding place from before to watch and guard from the shadows.  Hopefully they wouldn’t need the emergency teleport out, but

Ran’jit had found them though, and given even Karo pause in battle, bringing Thancred out of hiding to protect the band of those he loved.  For there was love there, sibling love for the twins, a fierce conflicting love for Minfilia, and the wave of burning love for Karoiseka that washed over him–startling him with it’s intensity after all these years.  No, Ran’jit wouldn’t touch them now, or ever again if he had a say in the matter.

The striking dummy splintered as Thancred delivered an overhand blow to the much abused wooden figure.  They were back in the Crystarium after the frustration of Il Mheg.  Dealing  with the Fae folk had never been his speciality, and Thancred was not in much of a mood to be social after all that had transpired.  The Fae had never quite given him as much trouble as they had this past visit, nor paid that much attention to him fully.  Seeing Urianger again was a relief, but almost in so much as he was another watcher for Minfilia, and someone she felt comfortable opening up to.  It was another barb to his already wounded pride that he didn’t know how to talk to her or express his hopes for her future–which was nothing less than what she wanted to do, not what he wanted her to do.

Another angry slice at the striking dummy, and the faux head went flying as he panted in the noonday sun.  To top it all off, he still hadn’t had five minutes alone to talk to Karo.  Being at her side again had his heart tied in knots, unsure if she still even thought of him the same as before.  They hadn’t ever made promises to each other, just reveling in the other's company and taking pleasure in the other.  Karo seemed almost distant–fragile–if he had to admit it.  Alisaie’s words as she had arrived had been burned into his mind.  She’s so broken!  It had made him all the more protective going through the Fuath’s realm, and more frantic than he wanted to admit when she didn’t surface with the rest.  Seeing her wade out of the lake, soaking wet, but with a sheepish grin on her face–.  Aliasie had beaten him to her side, warming her with gentle fire magics as he watched helplessly with building frustration as she headed to the castle–alone once more.  Of course the night had returned to the Fae lands, the Eulmorans driven off by the antics and magics well beyond what they could defend against.

The last nasty surprise of course had been walking into the peaceful Crystarium, only to be greeted by one of the most powerful Asciens they had heard of–none other than Emperor Solus of Garlemad, named Emet-Selch.  Everything about the encounter had put Thancred on high alert, still not able to rest the next morning.  The wary guardedness of Karo, but the willingness to hear the villain out instead of immediately destroying him spoke of a weariness that he hadn’t seen in her before.  She had turned, dutifully headed to rest at the twin’s instance with nary a word of protest after the incident, not even glancing back as she trudged to her Pendant’s suite.

Sheathing his weapon for the moment, he headed towards the shadows, surprised to find the Exarch waiting for him, damp cloth held out.  That explained why he hadn’t been interrupted in his workout, no guards coming to share the equipment.  Taking the cloth with a nod of gratitude, Thancred wiped the sweat off his face and neck, before swapping it with a cloth to clean up his weapon.

“So what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”  His eyes hadn’t left his task, despite turning to face the Exarch while he worked.  After a long pause, he glanced up to see the city leader quite nervous, rubbing his arm subconsciously.

"I came, that is, I was interested in how--what your opinion of how the visit to Il Mhrg was," words spilled out in a confused jumble, and for some reason it made Thancred smile.  The twins report must not have been as detailed as the Exarch wanted, and Thancred believed he knew in what manner.

"You mean how I think Karoiseka is doing,"  the Miqo'te in hiding immediately stopped fidgeting, while Thancred held back a smirk at how well the mark hit.  The Exarch had been in a mix of higher and lower spirits ever since Karo had arrived, according to Alphinaud and Alisaie, one minute serious as a stone slab the weight of leadership weighing heavy, the next mischievous and playful as the Fae themselves.

“Ah-well-” a deep breath and he looked Thancred in the eye, best he could with his own hidden face and squared his shoulders.  “Yes.  I’ve not had a chance to talk to her one on one since the day she arrived.  She’s now felled two Lightwardens and tackled numerous  other tasks both great and small.  Being one of her closer companions I was hoping you’d have some insight on her wellbeing,” his head fell again.  The unspoken words once more almost shouted in the quiet: Since she won’t confide in me.  Thancred gave the blade one more pass with the cloth before sheathing it once more.

“Then you’ve talked to her more one on one than I have since I got here,” he couldn’t quite hide the pain in his voice, the Exarch looking up sharply when he spoke.  Sighing deeply, Thancred leaned against one of the pillars surrounding the practice field, looking up into the sunlight.  “She’s been quiet.  What you did bringing us here with no warning, no word of what you were doing, hurt her.  More than she’s willing to tell though,”  Her troubled eyes frantically darting to each Scion any time there was the smallest of pauses, doing a mental count of them, and still wincing as one was still missing.  In any hint of danger, she was stepping forward to shield, where before she would hang back to get the best shot available.  Evenings in the Bookman’s shelves had Urianger, Alphinaud and Karo heads together talking magic theory about healing, her tone demanding answers on how to increase her effectiveness at her fledgling white magic powers.  He had heard her bolt awake in the middle of the night gasping, searching them each out one by one, before laying back down, tossing and turning in the bright Everlasting Light.

“Nothing has given her much pause, battle-wise though,”  he smiled with pride, thinking about how well they worked as a team cutting through anything in their path.  Her fledgling Paladin powers had grown, even if she was more than willing to let Thancred take the lead in most group situations, and her White magic  she was pushing almost obsessively to keep people safe.  He had been surprised to see her practicing with twin daggers late one night, spinning and falling before getting back up to try and emulate his old fighting style.  Another evening had found them near a site where the Fae had turned a whole group into leafmen, their weapons laying forgotten alongside them.  To his surprise she had picked up and practiced with not only a claymore just about the same height of herself, but a wicked axe that she spun through the air, a look of wistful thoughtfulness on her face.  She had cleaned and sharpened the weapons before returning them to their leafman owner’s sides, a quiet prayer on her lips for a people long gone.

“So, don’t worry about her martial prowess, that has not changed, or at least not for the worse,”  he spared a glance once more at the Exarch who was giving him a thoughtful look.  “We’ll protect her,”  Thancred was grateful he didn’t slip with his words, the protectiveness stirring once more in his chest at the words he had wanted to say.  I’ll protect her.

Many moons later, Thancred wondered how he was eating his words.  There had been nothing he could do to protect Karo from the Light she was taking in, nothing he could have said to persuade her to do otherwise.  To add insult to injury, he had almost given his all to protect her and Minfilia–Ryne–as they fled, not knowing truly how much he cared about either of them.  He wasn’t going to let that happen again.  Y'shtola calling him out on his behavior in the Greathwood, followed by Urianger’s talk with Ryne before that fateful trolly ride had him rethinking what he had done and said, and realized his oldest and dearest friends were right.  He had made a right ass of himself, and he aimed to fix it.

They had made it to Kholusia, where the Everlasting Light still burned high in the sky, the last place in Noverant that it did.  Vauthry, somehow, had proven himself to be worse than imagined, and they were now slowly giving chase and figuring out logistics to make their way to his new fortress hanging high in the sky.  He had watched as they had returned from the forest, and then Ahm Arang, as finally the Exarch was getting his wish–Karo was starting to open up to him.  Even now he could see her chatting with him as she prepared her gear for the final assault up the Talos.  If it wasn’t for the pain lines forming, Thancred could honestly say Karo finally seemed more at ease, more at home here on the First than he had seen her in a long time, and he treasured having her smiling and joking just a little bit more.

The jealousy rising in his heart was something he could do without though.  Karo had been free with her affections to all the Scions, the need to have touch driving all.  Leaning against Urianger, draping herself over Alisaie’s shoulders while reading, ruffling Alphinaud’s hair, pressing close shoulder to shoulder with Y’shtola, hugging Ryne whenever able, and soft gentle kisses on his own cheek, hand finding his squeezing tightly betraying her calm expression.  She had gotten clingier, insisting that they share meals more often than not if they were all in the same area, and he could feel the tension radiating off her anytime the suggestion of splitting up was brought up.  Contradictory, she kept her own console about the Light within her, not mentioning any pain or discomfort, hiding the wracking coughs and gasps for breath.  She was running herself ragged, only taking her rest once she knew everyone else was fine.  Seeing the lingering touches with the Exarch, the way her tail had just now wrapped around his leg while he was checking her armour, just meant she had finally accepted him as well.

Glancing back her way, the brilliant blue crystal bow was at her back once more, armor checked and every piece in place.  Waving a farewell to the Exarch, she had angled towards Thancred with a beaming smile, before changing course once more to talk to the Chai’s.  He couldn’t help but mirror her expression, before looking past her to where the Exarch stood, watching her walk away with lips pursed tight, hands balled into fists at his side.  There was something wrong with this whole situation, but he couldn’t place his finger on it just yet.  There would be time after they defeated Vauthry though, that he was certain of.

All certainty was gone as Thancred looked at the two prone Miqo’te in front of him, frozen in place.  Blue-tipped sable hair awash with Light wracking her body, Karo struggled to kneel as Emet talked about what a disappointment they all–that she–was.  The Exarch–G’raha Tia it turned out–lay bleeding mere ilms from Karo, one hand outstretched still reaching for her as he had fallen.  Karo’s voice had cracked as she had screamed his name when the hood fell off, blue eyes wide with shock and confusion.  The whole situation was a poor stage play, even poor Urianger dragged into the middle once more.  Thancred would have to have a talk to him about that.  

The Asciean floated high above them, inviting Karo to his home to die in relative peace–the insinuation ripping at Thancred’s heart.  There had to be something they could do.  Surely Y’shtola and Urianger had an idea, a plan.  Emet's fingers snapped, Thancred’s attention once more straight to him as the Exarch was transported away before in a puddle of purple-black aether he was gone as well.

The spell was broken, and the Scions surged towards Karo.  She had finally fully collapsed, the Light pulsing in waves off of her.  Ryne had made it to her side first, hands reaching out as she skidded to her knees praying and pulling upon forces unseen.  Y’shtola laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder pulsing aether into her as Ryne worked, a babble of words streaming from her about suppressing the Light and Minfilia helping her.  The twins and Uriganger fed more aether into Ryne as each flagged in turn, before the Light was not visible–Karo’s complexion ashen and her breath shallow.  Ryne nodded to him once and wordlessly he picked her slight frame up, cradling her next to his shattered heart as they made their way down the mountain.  A prayer in his heart as he pressed his lips between her ears trying not to jostle her as he led the exhausted companions, his pace brutal to get them to safety.

Karo had tugged on both his and G’raha’s hands as they had boarded the airship back to the Crystarium, settling the three of them against the center back bench and pulling them both close to her chilled body.  She was whole–her soul mended–and they were all hale and able to return to the city on their own two feet.  He had missed it, the past couple of weeks as they had explored the depths.  Her  physical touch as she had pulled away, trying to keep them all safe from herself and the Light she held inside.  Even as the aether was dissipating into the air though, she was already flinging herself into their arms, a bittersweet joy radiating from her–no longer moving gingerly with pain in each step.

The airship took off, the pilot keeping the ride smooth as the sun set painting the sky with bright colors.  A small movement to his side had Thancred looking down at Karo’s peaceful sleeping face.  She had passed out before they had even finished climbing into the air, head lolled onto the Exarch’s shoulder, curling around his arm.  He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped at G’raha’s dumbfounded expression, and when she shivered, he shrugged out of his coat, moving as little as possible to keep from disturbing her.  Laying it like a large blanket over her, he leaned back, catching the Exarch’s piercing red eyes with a smile and a nod. Maybe there was a way for this to work after all, no heartbreak needed.  

“You love her,” this time the words were spoken by Thancred to the Exarch, echoing years past when he had first arrived.  They were back on top of the watchtower, Karo having returned to the Source a few days earlier to report back to Tataru and Krile about the situation, and why she was not returning with the rest of the Scions.  A smile tugged at the corner or G’raha’s mouth as his ears first flattened to his head, then twitched, realizing that Thancred was both teasing him and not angry.

“So what if I do?”  The answer was again word for word, spoken softly in the morning breeze as gentle sunlight poured over Lakeland.  There was no challenge in the words, but an edge of concern.  Red eyes shimmered for a moment before the Exarch’s whole body curled in on itself, he was rubbing one of his arms again, head down and tail whipping causing his robe to snap back and forth.  It amused Thancred to no end that the second the hood was down, the dam of hidden emotions poured forth from the Miqo’te, unable, or unwilling to hide a moment longer.

“I-I just want her to be happy,” G’raha’s voice cracked, as he finally looked up into Thancred’s eyes, as the words tumbled in a hurried rush, “If that means giving up on anything beyond the friendship she has already offered, so be it, I do not want to fight for her affections!  Nor make an enemy of you!”  Thancred held up a hand to stop him from going any further, a tired gentle smile on his face.

“We are of one mind then, and should probably have this conversation with the subject present,” Thancred couldn’t help but chuckle at the Exarch’s flabbergasted expression.  “Oh come now, did you really think I wouldn’t want her happiness to come before mine own as well?  If that means sharing her affections with you, or anyone else she decides is worthy of it, who am I to argue?”  He liked the idea, if he was going to be honest with himself.  He had grown fond of the Exarch–G’raha–in the time he had been on the First, despite his mistrust and anger when first pulled.  He knew how much Karo cared for him as well, holding back because of the Light within her.  They had a few talks down in Amaurot before the final confrontation, talking about her confusion and hurt that G’raha had hidden who he was to her that entire time.  She had fully admitted that she should have picked up on the clues, but was so distracted by everything else going on that nothing had clicked into place until the hood had flown back.

“She is quite fond of you, don’t worry,”  Thancred had to smile at the blush that creeped up G’raha’s face making the crystal on his face stand out even more.  Leaning over as if he was about to tell a secret, Thancred had a hard time keeping the smirk out of his tone.

“And I think she’s quite curious to see how far that crystal goes,” Ruby eyes dilated and blinked before he yanked his hood up over his face, sputtering, face matching the now hidden ears.  Thancred laughed, clear and unburdened, letting the pain and stress of the past few years melt away.  It made G’raha peer through his embarrassment, letting the hood fall back again, to join in the laughter, as infectious as it was.

“Come, let us await our Lady–and I have an Empty to explore with an impatient teen,”  Thancred clapped a hand to G’raha’s shoulder giving a small squeeze before they headed down from the watchtower together.

Thancred had been following the sounds of harp-playing through the upper areas of Mor Dhona outside the Rising Stones, expecting to find Karo at the source.  Rounding the corner of the stone building, he found a Miqo’te, but one with bright red hair and vibrant eyes that looked at him with surprise, fingers fumbling the strings.

“Well, not whom I was expecting, but a pleasant surprise nonetheless,”  Thancred kept his expression open and unguarded, immediately seeing G’raha relax a bit, answering his smile with a sheepish one of his own.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to find me up here, honestly,” G’raha’s fingers absentmindedly continued to strum quietly.  “Well, other than Karo who’s always in the most unexpected places anyway,” they shared a knowing laugh at that, their lady always one for heights and hidden perches.  Looking around, Thancred nodded in amused agreement.

“This does look like one of her favorite types of places,”  the building was blocking the wind on two sides, and Thancred realized they must be just below her tower suite, due to the view being almost the same of the Crystal Tower, just a little lower on the horizon.

"Mind if I join you for a bit?" There hadn't been much time to catch up with each other since returning to the Source, both having their own stumbling blocks in recovery.  G'raha had basically moved into the Tower with Karo, though he technically had his own room a floor below. Thancred had his own not too far off, and they had fallen into an odd rhythm of balancing everyone's wants and needs.  There had already been several nights of all three of them passing out in Karo’s bed, not wanting to be alone for the night.

“Please.  The company would be nice,” Thancred was starting to be able to recognize the melody that the former Exarch was playing as an old Lakeland tune sung by the workers.  It seemed that he wasn’t the only one missing the First and the people there.  Making a split second decision, he didn’t sit across or even several fulms from G’raha, but instead, close enough their shoulders brushed as they leaned against the wall.  The Miqo’te had tensed for a brief moment, before relaxing again, the music not faltering this time, instead slowly growing with confidence, the melody soaring.

“I miss them too,”  Thancred’s voice was pitched deep and soft, but cut through the higher toned harp.  “I know I wasn’t there for nearly the time you were, but it still stings,”  He had awoken several nights during those shared nights to find G’raha out on the balcony just staring at the Tower he had both slept and lived in for so long.  It had never seemed right to intrude, but he had felt his heart constrict, knowing what it meant to leave family behind–no matter how well looked after they were to be.  Being so close he could feel almost more than he could hear the deep intake of breath and the stuttering exhale from G’raha.  Tilting his head just enough to see the other man’s face, he could make out the tears forming in the corner of the crimson eyes.

“Ah, c’mere, I didn’t mean to bring this on,”  Leaning back just a little more, he angled himself more towards G’raha, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to pull him close into a hug from behind, holding the smaller man close as he continued to play, albeit softer now as he leaned into the embrace letting his tears fall.  It had been quite some time since he had held another man like this, and was realizing he had missed it.  The past few moons on the First had been full of the two of them in deep conference, talking about who was to help care for Ryne–Lyna being one of the foremost on both their minds to keep an eye on the Oracles, for Gaia wasn’t leaving her new friend’s side.  They hadn’t done much besides a few words in key ears, but G’raha was still worried about his granddaughter, and Thancred about–he forced himself to admit it once more–his daughter.  They had bonded over the parental bond, and the trials they had experienced with the girls, and Thancred realized he had come to care for the man on his own, and not just as an extension of the relationship they both had with Karo.

“You know you have many and more that care for you here as well.  Krile and the students, the Sons of Saint Coiniach, the Scions.  And that’s not to say anything of the love Karo bears for you…” his voice dropped softer than a whisper as emotions crystalized in the moment of shared loss.  “As do I–”  He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of G’raha’s head as he absentmindedly heard the harp go quiet, and could feel the heartbeat under his hand start to race.  Ah.  Too much…  Thancred was grateful he was behind G’raha so he couldn’t see the expression upon his face as he started to pull away, afraid he had crossed a line that would be hard to come back from.  He honestly wasn’t sure who was more surprised when before he could remove his hand, G’raha’s was tightly holding it in place over his heart.  The former Exarch leaned over, not releasing the clasped hand to set the harp down safely on the ground, before covering the other hand holding him and pulling the embrace tighter.  His thick tail thumped upon the ground next to them, betraying his nervousness as ears twitched, tickling Thancred’s nose.  Neither spoke for quite some time, just sinking into the embrace.  Slowly Thancred relaxed again, curling around G’raha and pulling him closer, leaning his head on the shoulder in front of him.  The deep rumble of a purr coming from G’raha relaxed Thancred the rest of the way as he let the rest of the tension ease from his body.

Karo found them like that, bells later still curled up together fast asleep.  He had awoken briefly as she settled down on the other side of G’raha, settling in with both of them, her eyes meeting his, shining with joy.  He smiled sheepishly in return as sleep claimed him once more, in awe at how content and–happy–he was.

Many moons later, Thancred laid stretched out on an oversized bed high at the top of a tower in the Rising Stones.  The little bumps, the hiccups that had gotten him there all fading contently into the background as he glanced over at the pair of Miqo’te using his arm as a pillow.  Karo was in between himself and G’raha, curled facing the former Exarch.  Her tail was curled around Thancred’s leg as he was curled around her back, hand on her hip.  G’raha’s hand lay on top of his as they bracketed their lady.  Sleepy red eyes met his own over her dark hair as they shared a smile.  The threat of the Towers still loomed upon the land, but here in their little sanctuary, they could forget for a few bells and let it all fade into the background.  

Karo hadn’t really known how to react when the two of them had sat down with her, well before they even knew G’raha, or for that matter Thancred, would be able to make it home to the Source.  The palatable relief though was apparent, adjusting to the shift in the relationship, natural as could be.  It wasn’t until they all returned to the Source though that the “sharing” had become a little more, all piling into the Tower most nights, her loath to be without either one if they all were home at the same time.  Thancred curled his hand in and scratched gently behind G’raha’s ear, getting a squeeze on his hand in return as Karo slept on.  Another shared smile, and sleep came for him, whisking him away, though he wasn’t sure if dreams could get any better than what lay in his arms.

[sluttymickey]

Hey, do you have any new fic recs? I read everything on your previous rec lists so I'm here asking for more 🤲

Always! Here's a couple of multi chapter (mostly) WIPs that I'm really loving rn! ❤️❤️

Hold Me Now (by @southside-forever)

Over a year post-canon, Ian and Mickey receive news that has them revisiting the idea of having a child.

(Ian and Mickey becoming the best dads to baby Finn!❤️ Also it's got one of my favourite fic lines ever -- “We’ve all got cracks... Hell, maybe even some chips. But you’re not broken.” Hello??????🥺🤕 )

Ian Gallagher and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Senior Prom (by @mishervellous)

Ian Gallagher has the biggest, most embarrassing, gut-wrenching, boner-inducing, longest-running crush on Mickey Milkovich.

There, he said it.

Mickey Fucking Milkovich.

(In which the road to senior prom for Certified Mickey Milkovich Simp Ian Gallagher is a long, and treacherous one.)

(High School a.u., Ian and Mickey have got the biggest crushes on each other and it's so cute!❤️)

Intro to Quantum Dating (by @spoonfulstar)

Ian and Mickey are in college; Mickey's Ian's RA. Also his weed guy. And also his fuck buddy. Ian wants him to be more though.

(A fwb to lovers college a.u.! Super funny and interesting!❤️)

let the bodies do the talkin' (by @captainjowl)

After combing the greater Chicago area, Mickey comes to the conclusion that trying to find a good fuck is a big pain in the ass, and not in a good way. And now this Gallagher guy, who looks like he cries during sex, keeps showing up at his work and making eyes at him. There’s absolutely no way that soft-looking motherfucker can handle Mickey.

(Spoiler alert: He absolutely can 😌 fwb to lovers a.u. where Ian and Mickey are horny idiots in love. It's super funny and amazingly written💘)

Love is a Ballfield

Ian and Mickey are teammates on a Triple-A baseball club where they bond over their similar life circumstances. Neither of them want to chance ruining their shot at the major leagues so they attempt to keep their feelings for one another at bay.

Until, of course, they can't.

(Baseball a.u., ANGST (my beloved), soft boyfriends in love; Ian's the dorkiest goof (and Mickey loves him for it (among other things 😏))

Ristretto (by @howlinchickhowl)

Ian works the late shift at the Tamp and Grind. It's not what he always planned to be doing at 22, but it's a steady paycheck and he doesn't hate it. When he gains a new colleague with a wicked sense of humor and a sinfully hot boyfriend, he starts to think maybe he should be trying to do more with his life than perfecting his latte art.

(Coffeeshop a.u. (YAY), Ian is a dumbass™, Mickey's grumpy (and cute. and hot (as Ian's noticed. Many times), and there's a lot of flirting <33

since we're alone (by @buffymilkovich and @lethargicmick )

When Mickey Milkovich first got to the University of Michigan he had two goals; play hockey and get drafted into the NHL. But by his junior year, he’s at risk of losing his full ride scholarship because of his slipping grades.

Enter Ian Gallagher, an ambitious and fiery redhead who takes his job as Mickey’s tutor way too seriously and seems determined on making his life a living hell.

Or a College AU where Mickey is a hockey player and Ian is studious as fuck. They are everything the other one hates. Or so they think.

(enemies/fwb to lovers a.u. (my favourite trope 🥰), absolutely obsessed w this one, it's so funny and in character and it's got pretty great O.C's!)

That 'Redhead Babyface/FUCK U-UP' Duality

The absolute last thing Mickey expects when he goes to the bar is to get badgered into doing softcore porn, but the money sounds good. And this redhead won't leave him the fuck alone until he agrees. And maybe partnering up with him for a couple POV shots wouldn't be the worst thing on the planet.

Mickey's smart enough to recognize a slippery slope when he wants to. But he's gotta want to. And tonight the slippery slope is wearing body glitter and short-shorts.

(Slowburn, strangers to lovers a.u., Mickey's the grumpiest, softest mf as he bickers and falls in love w Ian, who is equal parts dorky and hot lol)

These Undomesticated Wilds (by @arrowflier)

When Ian Gallagher left Chicago behind him to traipse aimlessly through the wilderness, he was hoping to find himself--the self that he had lost when his bipolar diagnosis had his family treating him with kid gloves and his boyfriend annoyed with his melancholic acceptance of his new life. He wasn't looking for a rescue.

But when he's injured on a hike through the woods in southern Indiana, a rescue is what he gets. And if he's lucky, he might find a little more than he was looking for.

(Survivalist au! (Ohmygod they were cabinmates!) Amazing chapters so far, so fucking excited for the next ones 🥰)

Under Lock and Key (by @suzy-queued)

Ian gets assigned to the late-night shift in his college’s housing department, providing spare dorm keys to his fellow students. On top of balancing his course load, dating, and work, he has to babysit his obnoxious shift partner.

Mickey needs his job at Kimball University to provide for his siblings and cousins. He can’t get distracted by this new guy he got partnered with. He’s got a bad reputation to uphold, after all.

All-nighters. Microbiology. Silly bets. Baseball cards. Fifteen weeks under lock and key.

(A lil angsty, a whole lotta fluffy, ADORABLE MICKEY, college housing department co-worker&friends to lovers ❤️)

weaver of fate (to your will i won't fold) (by @sunoficarus)

Mickey is a seer who gets paid to track down people's soulmates, and he's damn good at his job. He's a little frustrated when this Ian Gallagher guy tries to cancel his appointment on the same day, saying he has no interest in knowing who his soulmate is. They reach an agreement: he'll perform the reading but won't tell him the results, just write them down and send him on his way. And, well, fuck Mickey's life, huh? 'Cause it turns out he's Ian Gallagher's fucking soulmate.

(Soulmate a.u., but also kinda friends to lovers too. They've got the biggest crushes on each other and are so ADORABLE)

When I'm Lying Next to My Fellow

A story about friendship, love, and a dog named Fox. Also, shapeshifters.

(Shapeshifter/Soulmate a.u, it's got about 2 chapters so far and I'm so curious to see where it goes 👀)

If anybody's interested, I've got my previous rec lists here and here. ❤️