#nor would i ever rec it to someone else like i do with saw

[skunkes]

how did u feel about the 2nd Terrifier movie? i saw it on a first date so it wasn’t the best experience… but revisiting it I can enjoy it more. good sfx

So the first one is 1h30m i believe, and I know when I watched it and saw I was 40 minutes in i was like wow its been that long and it feels like not much has happened huh. But then it did what it did and it ended.

For the second one I was like oh its been 40 minutes. Hopefully it starts kicking off like the first one. And then after what felt like an hour only 10 more minutes had passed LOL and the entire rest of the movie felt dis way

I like that this one had more of a semblance of a plot... The clown cafe song is stuck in my head... Sfx is good but hm im not sure how to describe this....im not one of those "omg this is just a legal snuff film u guys are evil for watching this" people nor am i a "ermm if u cant handle this ur a prude and a little baby actually" person but more somewhere in between or outside. I love movie gore, when i was younger I watched Saw SOLELY for the traps, i didnt even know the plot until more recently LMAO

but obviously That One Scene...idk! I dont think it was too much in the "prude" way nor was i clapping and cheering but it did evoke a "ok come on wrap it up" feeling from me...like these faces combined...does dis make sense. Not walking-out-of-the-theater disgust and revulsion OR enjoyment/glee but just mostly straight faced this ⬇️

The first movie has a naked woman being split in half from coochie down so its definitely not the gore itself here that evoked this emotion ykwim

[alyimoss]

ALPHYS SUPREMACY!!!

so my own view on what happened w gaster is convoluted and incomplete so i will refrain from saying much on that front EXCEPT the fact that i hc that she was 100% close to him and he was close to her, i like to think that he often validated her ideas and her hyperfixations. i think she was super nervous around him always and terrified of disappointing him, but he never thought of her that way. he saw her as intelligent and driven and i love the idea that out of everyone he worked with, hes very happy alphys ended up succeeding him. i love the thought that he basically thought of her as his daughter, like he was so genuinely proud of her and her accomplishments and genuinely happy to see her happy. i think she showed him anime once and he was very so-so abt it and she could tell but he still told her the parts of it he liked and that she shouldnt be ashamed of liking things others might not (which, for my view of gaster, is mildly insane bc i hc him as a man who barely ever talks abt stuff like that but this shit aint abt him)

her and sans's friendship is so underexplored it literally kills me bc what do you MEAN basically noone ever gives a shit abt it???? their friendship is so so important to me. i like to think they met in high school or college, that alphys is a year or two younger but was in all the same classes (and some more advanced than him) bc she really *is* that smart (a fact i think a lot of people forget bc so many reduce her to just "annoying weeb" and it pisses me off) so theyd collab on projects and study together and stuff. she was absolutely a straight-a student but she would panic over every assignment bc of her self-confidence issues and would convice herself that she would fail (she never did. she very consistently scored at the top of the class).

i think she compared herself to sans a lot, too. bc i see him as the epitome of adhd-type procrastinator who still got good grades somehow and seemed to just- understand every concept thrown at him immediately. and she would invalidate her own work over this bc "sans never does anything but hes still at the same level as me. meanwhile i have to do all this work and im stressed all the time. god im such a failure, i wish i could just be flawlessly smart like him" (this is not projection this is not projection this is n) but i dont think she ever said it out loud bc she didnt wanna seem like she was seeking pity or smthn (sans picked up on it anyway bc bro is canonically that observant and he hyped her up in his own way as much as he could without saying anything outright bc if hes anything he is a man who does not want to confrot feelings, his own or someone elses, fucking EVER).

and like during the events of undertale theyre obviously still friends but i think they drifted apart a little. between sans's depression and alphys's own, plus her workload and stress, they didnt really get to hang out much anymore, nor be as close or as open with each other as they had been previously (which wasnt even that much considering. sans. but the shift was still noticeable). this definitely added to her stress and fears (add on to that that mostof their communication was likely thru text and alphys is absolutely a very expressive texter and someone who usually takes like seconds to reply while sans is the worlds dryest texter, would probably leave you on read (not maliciously) for days or not even read your messages until like a week later). but still he helped her out where he could and he kept hyping her up bc thats his fucking friend, man!! and then theres that list in the dog shrine casino on?? whichever fucking console version of ut it is i dont remember that is very heavily implied to be alphys's game recs for sans which i think is so cute.

i think when they did hang, theyd watch anime and eat junk food and watch movies and play video games and just kinda. not talk abt their problems at all, but it still felt nice for both to just hang with someone plus escapism so. also once she got her big fat crush on undyne (and probably before w other crushes but especially with her crush on undyne) shed sit there and tell him all abt it, the things she did/said, how nervous alphys is, how badly she wants to just ask her out etc. and sans, in typical aro/ace fashion, would just nod along, happy for his friend, and, when asked for advice, would just shrug and go "idk talk to her ig?" (pan to undynes house where the exact same conversation happens with papyrus and undyne lmfao)

and like. i think alphys is just in general the type of person to get overinvested in any kind of relationship, even if it seems like the other person doesnt feel the same. like shes probably had friendships in which she was super invested in the other person and so happy to hear from them and worrying when she didnt and letting them vent to her etc only to find out that the other person barely thought of her as an acquintance (this is NOT PROJECTION I SWE)

she absolutely would be into cosplay but initially be too shy and too full of self-loathing to really like. do it. and this is where another one of my all-time fav friendships that NOONE talks abt emerges and that is ALPHYS AND PAPYRUS. LIKE PAPYRUS IS ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE OF PERSON SHE NEEDS IN HER LIFE. he hypes her up constantly, he calls her out when shes being negative abt/mean to herself and tells her how to change that around, hes an absolute beacon of positivity and confidence and the kind of person you really feel like you can be yourself around. theyd fucking cosplay together. theyd sit down and make cosplay together from scratch. undyne would be there too, obv. i think she initially helped out, making like props and whatnot, but she kept getting too excited and smashing them, so now shes just there as moral support + she can wear the in-progress cosplay to like. help them see how its coming along, what they need to change, etc. and i think she still is like. the authority on a lot of weapons (esp prop spears) bc she has experience.

and yknow whod also help them?? toriel. i love toriel and alphys friendship, i think they have a book club-type thing going together. tori would come over and help them sew together fabric and whatnot, and also bring pie bc everyone fucking loves pie (everyone has made pie together with her at some point. even asgore, tho that was long, long ago). sans is there occasionally. noone ever sees him do any work but his parts are always done and noone knows how.

she goes to cons with undyne and papyrus and i think frisk goes w them bc WHY THE FUCK NOT. god she must have been so happy the first time she went to a con... not only is it a whole ass space all abt anime, but theres people *like her* there and suddenly she doesnt feel like the weirdo freak, shes just a girl enjoying her life and her hyperfixation and its so freeing.... she probably stays all days of the con (undyne probably stays with her, papyrus and frisk have to leave but they get photo updated almost hourly)

she probably ends up getting asgore into anime, at least somewhat. she goes over to his house and they drink tea and watch anime and she infodumps abt specific moments with her favorite characters and how important they are lore-wise/thematically and asgore goes "golly!" and listens to all of it and asks questions and alphys is so fucking *excited* bc she gets to talk even *more* abt her favorite thing and she goes into headcanons and theories and then later asgore sends her like. a photo of an anime boy he stumbled on and goes "this reminded me of you!" and shes just so happy abt it. he gives her flowers, also. both in bouquet form and potted plants. she takes care of them very, very diligently.

she still does science stuff on the surface. im not smart so idk what but she does it. she helps frisk w their homework (everyone does but shes in charge of sciency and mathy stuff bc shes good at that) and when theyre done they get boba or something to celebrate and frisk tells her abt school and abt their fellow students and teachers, she talks abt the people at her work. they play video games together (they definitely both play pokemon. they trade with each other to complete their dex. frisk is doing a shiny living dex and giving her their dupes, especially if its a pokemon she likes.) i just love her as like- an aunt/big sister type figure to frisk. theres that one drawing of them that lives in my head constantly but i DONT REMEMBER WHO ITS BY

her playlist is full of vocaloid songs. and ado. she does official sciency stuff to the sound of hatsune miku and yknow what? me too, good for her.

i almost forgot mettaton somehow?? but their friendship specifically BREAKS ME bc were shown in ut that theyre not particularly close by the time frisk arrives. that it seems like mmt is more or less using her so he can have his body finished and go on to become a star, but thats it. but like you can tell that 1) alphys knows this and 2) she still cares for him so, so much. and i believe in one of the king mtt endings he explicitly says that, looking back, he recognizes he was *awful* to her, that he regrets it and that he wishes he had been a better friend. and that shit FUCKS. ME. UP.

oh god the fucking conversation theyd need to have. once its all over, once theyre on the surface... bc i do think they had one. they laid down on the floor and stared at the ceiling and told each other about their insecurities and their lies. alphys talks about how nervous she was finishing his body, how she felt he would leave her once she did. he talks about how he did think of that, that he was an awful friend for doing so. how he cares about her and hes done letting the fame go to his head, that he wont up and leave her, his first fan as mettaton. his friend. she probably also helps her talk to napstablook and shyren, bc i do like to think he tells them the truth.

i like the though of her, on the surface, sitting on the couch in toriel'd house, drinking a cup of tea, her friends all around her talking and having fun and she just thinks about the type of person she was before all this and she realizes how much shes changed. how much happier she is. how much she loves every single person in that room with her.

alphys... like. the journey to her betterment is not a quick or an easy one. but god... shes just so relatable i do not understand people who dont like her. shes so interesting and deep as a character. shes so... shes so. man....

im running out of steam a little (and need to get back to what i was doing before this) but shes genuinely so epic. shes so awesome and cool and i wish more people recognized that.

alphys supremacy.

alphys is so underrated and everyone says it but nobody does anything about it. alphys’ relationship with gaster. her dynamic with sans. her self loathing eating away at the inside. her literal suicide attempt.??? THE FACT SHES IN ONE OF VERY FEW CANON WLW RELATIONSHIPS OUT THERE????? THE FACT SHE IS THE MOST RELATABLE CHARACTER TO EVER WALK THIS PLANET???? wtf…

i like to hc that alphys is like a sister figure to sans but not quite papyrus. i like to think she was there when gaster fell into the core. i like to think that she spent ages piecing the puzzle together only to have so many missing pieces in the end as to what happened, who the royal scientist before her was, why she remembers things that never happened. i like to hc that the amalgamates were kind to her despite what she’d done, and their attempts at comfort after seeing her guilt only made her feel worse.

i like to think that sans isn’t the star of the mystery science scene because fucking obviously, and his and alphys’ stories are intertwined. i think that alphys helps him with the secret machine in the back of his home. i think that alphys asks sans for favors regarding the amalgamates without him knowing what for (he does know, she knows that he knows, neither talk about it much). i think they’re besties who are both so depressed. i like to think alphys in her free time sits and writes fanfiction about her favorite anime characters going through what she does to cope.

i think she would cosplay but be too scared to go outside in it so she posts one picture online and then hides from her phone the rest of the day. i think once or twice she passed out from sheer exhaustion and stress combined in front of mettaton and he’s been her rock through it all and helped her get to her feet. i hc that she has frequent headaches and a brain injury which gave her a stutter. i hc she and frisk are actually close and they do ‘sleepovers’ where alphys shows them anime and they hang out and toriel gets free babysitting. i like to think alphys, after going to the surface, is more comfortable with being a nerd because wdym humans have CONVENTIONS for her favorite anime!?!??!? and that’s a key part of helping her be more comfortable with herself (undyne cosplays with her voluntarily so alphys doesn’t feel awkward).

i like alphys….

[goldenzingy46butwriteblr]

I'm going on a long plane ride soon, and I really need long Tomarry fics (that are completed preferably.) I like time travel stories, serial killers, basically anything that I can totally escape into please please please please :D

Fuck yeah, I’ve got you.

Sky Full Of Glass by SofiaBane

The Horcruxes have become unstuck in time, and it’s the responsibility of the Master of Death to figure out why. And since Voldemort needs to be punished for transgressing into the realm of Death anyway, he might as well come along.

A quite delightful take on the Master of Death Harry, who has complete dominion over space and time, too. 20k.

Nose to the Wind by Batsutousai

While Harry had been content with his second chance, that didn't keep him from thinking what he could have done different, how many people could have survived if he hadn't been set on the very specific path he'd walked. Third time is the charm, though, right?

Now, I have no doubt that you already know this one, but how could I leave it off a rec list? The prequel is also fantastic. 211k.

The Ouroboros by WyrmLivvy

Once upon a time, a woman wished to have a child with the man she loved, that would have his porcelain skin as white as snow, his rosy cheeks red as blood, and his dark hair black as ebony. …

The child was not born with red cheeks but red eyes.

(Tomarry vampire/fairy tale/Snow White AU)

Now, this is not quite time travel or serial killers, but it’s absolutely fantastic all the same, and absolutely worth the read. Fantasy, dark-ish, and a happy ending. 20k.

The Eyes in the Bramblebush by relic_crown

For a long time, Tom was just another violinist, perfect and beautiful and boring. Then Harry truly saw him, and knew he was anything but boring - he was the edge of a pocketknife, the red of nightshade berries, a lie in a crisp black coat.

Harry had never fallen in love so quickly.

Once again, technically neither time travel nor serial killers, but it is most certainly something to sink your teeth into. 12k.

Darling, do you remember what you did? by Baryshnikov

Tom had been waiting to do this.

Waiting for a very, very long time.

Oh, this is gloriously dark, with knifeplay and power games galore. 13k, technically a WIP, but you’d be missing out if you didn’t read it.

Mania by Angel_Of_Mysteries

Harry and Tom have been together for two years, and Harry’s finally ready to take their relationship to the next level. Little does he know, so is Tom.

I can’t say much on this without spoiling it, but it’s wonderfully painful. 9k.

No Body, No Crime by duplicity

Harry works as a car mechanic in a small town. He and Ginny are best friends, their close bond the product of a traumatic event that scarred them both as children.

Now that they are adults with separate lives, it seems inevitable that they will drift apart. That is, until Ginny confides in Harry that she thinks her husband—the charming, enigmatic Tom Riddle—is cheating on her.

A day later, Ginny goes missing. Harry is convinced that Tom is behind her disappearance, and becomes determined to exact justice by any means necessary.

This one was so goddamn painful, but so brilliant. 20k.

God of Nothing by machiavelli

The other orphans avoid Tom Riddle like the plague. He lounges on his broken throne, watches the whispers fade around him with sharp, dark eyes. Nobody can quite work out why he seems so fascinated with the new boy, who walks in smelling of smoke and hasn't said a word in three days.

I remember following this one as each of the chapters came out, and by the gods it was glorious. In a much darker universe, half tinged with madness, Harry and Tom meet, and it’s perfect. 83k.

dust in your pocket by relic_crown

Two hundred years ago, the world died.

All that remains is a technicolor wasteland, swirling with ash and populated by radiation-warped humans. Tom, immortal and bloodthirsty, crowns herself queen of this ruined world and wanders it namelessly, building and burning empires at will.

Then there's Harry: eyes like chips of sea glass, hopeful in the face of the apocalypse -- and by far the most dangerous person Tom's ever met.

Holy shit. An almost steampunk AU, femslash, and completely incredible in every single way. 24k.

Dreams and Darkness Collide by Epic Solemnity (Dark_Cyan_Star)

Though he was raised without the expectation of saving the world, Harry still possesses a savior complex. Only, it's so dark and twistedly immoral, he created an alter ego to practice vigilantism. His second identity makes a name for himself and immediately ensnares Minister Riddle's complete and obsessive attention. A game of cat and mouse begins and morals are questioned.

One of my favourites, although I’m pretty sure it’s been abandoned. Vigilante!Serial killer!Harry and Minister!Riddle, who still runs the Death Eaters, and makes for one dangerous, tantalising romance. 209k.

Footsteps On Empty Floorboards by AgonisedDaily

After a recent screw-up on the job whilst hunting a serial killer, Harry needs a break from being an Auror. His new Victorian house promises just that, but living with the restless spirit of a former Dark Lord isn't quite part of the peace and quiet he was hoping for.

Okay, okay, okay, I know you said completed works only, but I’m incapable of leaving this beauty off my rec list. Maybe I’m just a sucker for darker things, but I think this is beautiful. 125k.

Break and Burn and End by duplicity

Harry Potter has died over and over again: in a cradle, in a graveyard, in a courtyard. If Harry Potter has ever lived, if he was the accumulation of years filled with burdens and grief, he has long since warped into someone else.

So let Harry Potter die, let his legacy run like ink through the pages of history until it dries for evermore. The world is better off without Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort both, so Harry will kill the one of them that he can and hope it will be enough.

OR: Past and present, Harry and Voldemort are connected. A tale of two immortals and the question of what it means to have an adversary when forever is in the cards.

Immortals AU of letting go and healing. I love it. 17k.

I hope this is enough, and, as always, I had fun making it! I will do the customary my fics are great please read them at the end, but considering most of them are WIPs or oneshots, I won’t include them as serious fic recs. You’ve been spared.

[lallyloo]

Jealousy

(So @imincognitohere and I were talking about EB recs, and porn, and how Link’s entire porn collection would consist of a dark haired guy with glasses and a John Mayer lookalike. Then we imagined Rhett finding Link’s JM porn collection and crying, and then just railing Link. And now we’re here.)

*

He’s not really supposed to be on Link’s laptop, but Link’s running behind and Rhett really needs the May 2022 Ear Biscuits schedule now.

He silently curses himself for not keeping the schedule on his own laptop, or even his phone, but Link’s the one who types during planning sessions and they’re always together, so it’s never mattered before.

But today Link’s stuck in traffic on the way to the creative house, and Stevie’s trying to book their first guest in nearly two years, and Rhett needs the info now.

And they have each other’s passwords for this very reason.

So Rhett waits for the sign-in screen to appear, and he types Link’s password.

RaisinCRUNCH1984!

And he’s in.

 The desktop is just a line of neatly organized folders against a backdrop of some douche playing guitar.

Rhett stares at the douche for a second.

He knows his name is John Mayer.

But in Rhett’s mind he’s just ‘douche’.

Link’s crazy about his music but Rhett’s not, and the guy seems like a tool anyway.

And why does Link need him on his desktop? Why not Christy? Or the kids? Or hell, why not him and Rhett? Would that be too much? No.

And sure, Rhett’s desktop is a silhouetted photo of himself in Death Valley, but that’s neither here nor there. It was a great trip, and it’s a great photo, and it’s not just some random musician guy.

Rhett tears his gaze away from the background and scans the labels on the desktop folders, stopping when his eyes hit one called ‘May’. It seems to be the most obvious choice, likely full of schedule info, brainstorming, personal appointment times, etc.

To Rhett’s surprise, the files inside seem to have much more random names than the desktop folders.

It doesn’t seem like Link at all, and Rhett is a bit flummoxed as he reads down the list of random letters and numbers jumbled together.

He settles on a file called 324_eB_32_MMdrmfanta.

He’s in such a hurry he doesn’t pay attention to the file type, and Rhett realizes it’s a mistake as soon as he clicks it.

It’s not a list of dates or information. It’s not a schedule.

It’s a video.

And it looks like porn.

There’s a room. An office maybe? The camera pans and there’s a desk and a chair and a window.. and a bed. Yep, it’s porn.

The camera pans to socked feet, and up bare legs, over a little red speedo, to a bare chest, up to the face of someone who looks a bit like a younger Link.

Dark hair, blue eyes, glasses.

There’s a knocking sound in the video, someone at the door, and Rhett is curious to see who might walk in. It’ll be a blonde woman, he assumes. A Christy lookalike.

“Link you dirty dog..”

He’s invested now, curious to see what kind of fantasies Link is into. He knows Link and Christy’s relationship has its ups and downs, and Link’s blue balls have been an ongoing joke for years, and maybe he’s invading their privacy a bit by watching this video.. But it’s not actually Link and Christy. It’s just porn. Just a fantasy Link has. And they’ve talked about fantasies before. Hell, Rhett told him about the first time he ever jerked off. Watching a little porn video is nothing.

The guy with the glasses heads for the door and Rhett is enraptured as the scene unfolds – slipping off the chain lock, a hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly. Rhett wonders what the woman’s going to be wearing. What she’s going to say. What they’re going to do. How they’re going to fuck.

On screen, the door opens and Rhett pulls back a bit, surprised, when he realizes there’s a man on the other side of it. Another brunette, with longer hair – not as long as Rhett’s, but longer than Link’s. And flowy. The guy’s kinda pretty.

Huh. Maybe it’s a threesome video? Two guys and a girl? The guy with the glasses looks surprised but pleased, and Rhett stares at the screen, wondering when the girl will show up.

The other guy says something Rhett doesn’t register, and then he steps into the room, wraps the glasses guy up in his arms, and shoves his tongue down his throat.

The unmistakable sound of a porn sax overdub echoes through Link’s office, and Rhett pulls himself out of it. He clicks through the video, skipping ahead, his eyes growing wide as he gets quick glimpses of erections, blow jobs, sloppy kisses, a finger in a butthole, AND IS THAT HIS TONGUE?? And fucking, so much fucking, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Rhett skips to the end to see the long-haired guy trailing his tongue over the glasses guy’s dick, licking up every messy drop of cum.

And. Oh.

The girl never showed up.

Rhett closes the video.

So Link watches porn. Gay porn.

And he’s never told him.

Rhett can’t help but feel a little confused. And a little jealous.

Why hasn’t Link told him? Why haven’t they talked about it?

Does Link like guys?

Rhett’s never been into guys. Not once, like ever.

Well, sure, he’s thought about Link once in awhile. What it might be like to touch him. Kiss him. Maybe more.

But that doesn’t count. Because it’s Link.

It’s Link!

Rhett’s not into guys. Link doesn’t count.

And if Link is into guys he clearly doesn’t want to tell Rhett yet. And that’s fine.

Isn’t it?

Rhett is a little hurt, but he’s alright with letting Link tell him in his own time. That’s what best friends are for. They’re cool and they’re understanding and they’re patient. And Rhett is all of those things.

He closes the folder, and his eyes fall to the desktop again.

To that douche.

With the familiar face.

Why does he suddenly seem so familiar?

Rhett stares at him for a moment and his blood runs cold.

The video.

The guy at the door with the stupid floppy hair.

Rhett quickly opens the folder again, choosing another file at random.

Cheesy porn music starts and Rhett watches another slightly geeky dark-haired guy with glasses flirt with a dark-haired flop. Rhett skips ahead quickly. There are blowjobs, and the flop is lifting the cute geeky guy, kissing him, spreading his cheeks as the glasses guy gasps–

Rhett closes that video, and clicks another one, and moans fill Link’s office as the video starts right in the middle of a fucking scene. Two guys. Another cute eyeglassed guy with dark hair, and some long-haired jerk. As Rhett watches, he catches sight of a guitar in the background and his face burns hot.

“Rhett?”

Rhett fumbles with the laptop, slamming it closed, but the video keeps playing and the moans of two guys echo through the room as Rhett turns towards the door.

“Link!”

Link looks furious.

“Dude, what’re you doing??”

“I was just looking for– ”

“You’re snooping on my laptop??” Link pushes past him and opens his computer, typing in his password.

“No! I wasn’t! I was just– ”

Link clicks the little x in the top corner of the video and the room falls quiet as he turns back to Rhett.

“That’s my private stuff.”

“I was looking for the Ear Biscuits schedule!”

“And you thought you’d just watch some of my porn while you were in there?”

“It said May! I thought it meant the month!”

“Well it doesn’t mean that!”

“I know that now!”

Link looks at him for a moment and then rolls his eyes. “It’s a stupid name. I’ll.. rename it.. and hide it, I guess.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“What if you need somethin’ else in the future?”

“Well I’ll know not to look in the John Mayer folder.”

Link makes a sound, something akin to a squawk. “What??”

“That’s what it is, right?”

“It’s– I mean, it’s..” Link stutters, unable to look at him. “NO.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It’s not.”

Rhett gestures to the laptop, which still sits open on the desk. “You’re tellin’ me all those dudes with the long hair don’t make you think of… him?”

Link doesn’t answer the question, he just frowns. “I should’a called it something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. PORN maybe?? THIS IS MY PORN RHETT DON’T LOOK AT IT?? Does it need to be that obvious?”

Rhett can’t help but laugh, “That wouldn’t help at all. You know it’d only make me more curious.”

“True.” Link says, and he’s smiling now at least. “So fine, I’ll call it something you won’t care about.”

“Like what?”

“Well I’m not gonna tell you, ya dummy.”

Rhett raises his hands in defeat, “fine, fine.”

The room is quiet for a moment as they look at each other, and Rhett can’t help it when his gaze moves from Link’s face down to the idiot on the screen.

He’s so smug. So full of himself. He writes stupid lyrics and people just swoon over him. Link swoons over him.

But Rhett writes lyrics too. And he sings. What’s wrong with his songs?

“What’s John Mayer got that I ain’t got?”

Link’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “WHAT?”

“I didn’t even know you liked guys,” Rhett says quietly, “and now you’re into HIM of all people.”

“What’s wrong with HIM?”

“Well, for starters, he’s a– ” Rhett stops himself from calling the guy a name. Yeah he’s a stupid dumb idiot who steals the affection of certain best friends, but Rhett doesn’t need to say that to Link. He doesn’t need to make him more upset. “He’s not.. ”

“I know you think he’s not cool,” Link rolls his eyes again. “I don’t care.”

“It’s not that.”

“Well what is it??”

“He’s not.. me.” Rhett can feel his face start to burn the moment the words are out of his mouth. It’s stupid. He’s stupid. What is this? What’s he even doing?

“Not you??” Link laughs. “Dude, don’t tell me you’re jealous of John Mayer now too.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” Rhett says, and Link shoots him a skeptical look. “I mean, maybe just a bit. But now...”

“Now what?”

“After I saw those videos..” Rhett chokes out. “Link, why’re you thinkin’ about him and not me?”

“Rhett, you’re not into guys!”

“And you are??” Rhett can’t seem to help the hysterical tone in his voice.

“Well, yeah, man.”

“Since when??”

“Since.. always, I think.”

“What about Christy?”

“Christy knows,” Link shrugs, “she’s okay with it.”

“Oh.”

Rhett thinks of his own wife and how she’d react if it were him.

Lately Jessie’s been more open-minded than anyone, more willing to learn and explore and grow. Would she be okay if he were.. if he liked..

And he already knows the answer – has heard her say a hundred times, a hundred ways, ‘we’re not who we used to be.. so whatever that means for you and Link, that’s fine by me. The four of us can figure it out.’

Rhett hadn’t questioned her at the time. Hadn’t realized what she meant.

“So, look, you found my porn,” Link is saying, “but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about this whole jealousy thing you’ve got going on. I’m not gonna stop watching it just because your feelings are hurt.”

“But..”

“But what??” Link asks, exasperated.

“I want you to think of me.”

“Look,” Link sighs and takes off his glasses, rubbing a hand over his eyes, “I used to think of you..”

“When??”

Link shrugs. “Awhile ago. Years.”

“Why’d you stop??”

“Rhett, listen, I knew it was never gonna happen with you so I made myself stop.”

“And it’s gonna happen with John Mayer??”

“No,” Link laughs, “it’s just a.. just a stupid fantasy.”

“So let me be your fantasy.” Rhett hates himself the moment it’s out of his mouth – he’s never said anything more embarrassing – and Link just gives him an odd look.

“Dude..”

Rhett cringes, “I know.”

“I’m not gonna fantasize about my straight best friend.”

“But I want..”

“Rhett, WHAT.”

“I’m not into guys,” Rhett tries to explain, feeling like an idiot, “but I’m into you.”

“Well, I’m a guy.”

“I know, but you’re – ”

Link steps forward, and before Rhett can say anything more Link leans in and kisses him. It seems to be a test at first, gentle, and then Link slips his tongue out, pressing against Rhett’s lips, encouraging Rhett to open for him.

And Rhett does. He doesn’t even question it. His brain just screams, yes! Finally! And he’s kissing Link, soft and wet, and an ache shoots through his body, straight to his dick.

When Link pulls away, Rhett’s still got his eyes closed, his head tilted, with a smile plastered to his mouth.

“Did you like that?” Link asks.

“Yeahhh,” Rhett sighs dreamily.

“Then you’re into guys, you dummy. The percentage don’t matter.”

Rhett’s eyes snap open. “Okay, I’m into guys.”

Link looks at him, wide-eyed, and smiles. “So kiss me again then.”

Rhett does, taking hold of Link’s face and kissing him, and he knows he’s supposed to be doing something else. He came in this room for a reason. A file or something.

But none of that matters because he’s kissing Link and Link’s kissing him back, and as Rhett pushes Link up against the desk they bump the cable on Link’s laptop and it beeps to notify them that it’s come unplugged.

“Hold on,” Link mumbles, pulling away to plug the cable back in, and Rhett’s eyes are fixed to the photo on the desktop.

Stupid John Mayer douche.

He’ll never have Link.

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

Rhett glances up to find Link watching him curiously.

“What?”

“You’re staring at my laptop like you wanna murder it.”

“What,” Rhett sputters, “no I’m not.”

“You really are jealous, huh?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Link, I’m fine.”

“Guess I’ll just leave it open then,” Link smirks. “Since it’s not botherin’ you.”

Rhett reaches past him and slams the laptop shut. “No.”

Link laughs. “You’re like a jealous girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend.”

“Oh, you’re my boyfriend now?”

“Maybe,” Rhett says, and he’s dying. Literally dying. Link’s never going to let him live this down.

But Link kisses him again and suddenly Rhett doesn’t care. They’re kissing and Link is touching him. Link’s hands move down to unbutton his shirt, so Rhett grabs hold of Link’s shirt and tugs it up and over his head.

“What ones did you watch?”

“What what?”

“The videos, which ones.”

Rhett nearly chokes, looking away, and Link takes him by the chin and pulls his gaze back.

“You can tell me.”

“I don’t know,” Rhett admits, “I just skimmed a few.”

“Well what’d they do in them?”

“Blowjobs,” Rhett says, replaying the scenes in his mind, “lots of fingers everywhere. Fucking.”

“Fucking?”

“Yeah, tons of it.”

Link’s fingers slide down Rhett’s belly, stopping at his belt, and the buckle clinks as Link undoes it. “You wanna act it out?”

“Act it out??” Rhett feels like he might actually scream.

“Yeah.”

“DO I HAVE TO BE JOHN MAYER?”

“No!” Link laughs and shuts him up with another kiss. “Just be you, dummy.”

“You want me to– ” Rhett stammers, speaking against Link’s lips, “Want me to go to the door?”

“The door? Why?”

“To knock? Like in the video?”

Link laughs again, and at least Rhett’s managed that. If nothing else, he can always make Link laugh.

“You watched the dorm fantasy video?”

“I don’t know.”

“Guy studying? Red speedo?”

“Ohh, yeah, that one.”

“And how’d it end?”

Rhett’s eyes go wide. “Fucking.”

“Right,” Link says, smiling back at him. “So you wanna just skip to that?”

Rhett’s died. He’s a corpse.

But he manages to breathe out, “Yes.”

Link opens a drawer and tosses a bottle of lube on his desk, and he’s saying “come on, come on,” and Rhett’s brain finally returns to him, because if there’s one thing he’s good at it’s using his dick.

He’s not quite sure of the next step because he’s never done THIS. But Link walks him through the lube and the prep, and god, his ass is beautiful, and now Rhett gets to fuck it, and when Link’s hand slips over Rhett’s dick, slicking him up good, Rhett’s knees nearly give out.

Then Link’s turning away, still talking to him, teasing, asking, “You gonna fuck me better than John Mayer would?” and Rhett grips his hips and slides in slow, easing in deep, gasping at how tight Link is around him.

And Link groans,“Oh god.. fuck, you’re in..

And moans, “Rhett, do it.”

And Rhett does.

He fucks the hell out of Link.

Plows him into the desk.

Tries to fuck John Mayer right out of his mind.

Just rails him.

And Link keeps gasping, “Yeah, like that, yeah, Rhett, fuck me like that,” and when he breathes out “better than John Mayer ever could..” Rhett stops and grabs hold of him, turning him around, needing to see him, wanting Link to see who’s fucking him and giving it to him so good.

Link goes easily, seemingly happy about it, and when Link is bare-assed on the desk with his dick in his hand, Rhett hooks his arms under his knees and fucks in again.

“Tell me,” Rhett sputters as he fucks with everything he’s got.

“Tell you what?” Link is looking up at him, dazed, and they both know Link’s teasing.

“Tell me I’m better.”

“Better than who?”

“You know who,” Rhett grits out, and he’s going to come. Soon. Real soon. And he needs to hear it so bad. “HIM.”

“Oh..” Link grins, and his voice catches in his throat as he says, “John Mayer?”

Rhett can only nod, silently begging Link to give him what he needs.

“You’re better,” Link smiles up at him, his breath stuttering, and Rhett can feel him tighten around his cock. “You’re so good, Rhett, fuck, you fuck me better than anyone.”

“Yeah,” Rhett gasps, pulling Link’s knees up higher, fucking in tighter, harder, faster, and he nearly folds Link in half when he leans in to kiss him again.

And Link breathes against Rhett’s mouth, “No one fucks me like you..” and he comes, shooting hot between them, and Rhett groans and stills, coming hard inside Link.

“Fuck, yeah, so much better than him,” Link sighs, “You’re bigger too.”

And Rhett’s pretty sure he passes out.

When he comes to, he’s still holding onto Link, and he lets go slowly, easing his legs down.

“You alright?” Link’s asking, with a little worried expression on his face.

“Yeah,” Rhett says, “was I out long?”

“You were out??” Link sits up quickly, getting a better look at him.

“I think so,” Rhett shrugs, “I dunno. Maybe it was just too good.”

Link laughs, “Dude, stop.”

Rhett stares down at him, looking hurt.

“What, you’re sayin’ it wasn’t good?”

“Rhett– ”

And Rhett knows he’s teasing again, and he knows it was good, but Rhett pushes against his chest anyway, encouraging Link to lie back down on the desk.

And Rhett leans over and licks up every messy drop of cum from Link’s chest, and sucks his dick clean too.

He’s clearly better than John Mayer.

And he definitely likes guys. Especially Link.

[one-real-wrimonkey]

New au idea (it's a little au of au.) After the kavado fiasco palpapunk gets Rex transferred to the corasant guard with the excuse that he would to unstable to be on the front lines in an attempt to make Anakin more reliant in him.

Sorry if spelled something wrong.

Yessss.

There is nothing wrong with an AU of an AU, half my Corrie Guard works are different endings post following Hound letting the information out, lmao. And don't worry about the spellings, sometimes I get things so wrong the spell checkers can't work it out.

I'd also like to clarify in advance that some of the opinions Fox has on characters or their actions will be how he perceives them etc and some of his thoughts or opinions on a character may counter what we from an outside perceptive know.

---

The news was crushing. Firstly that Rex'ika had been taken by those Zygerrian slave taking monsters, and then a ruling that his actions on the mission had been reckless so soon after the mess on Umbara and between that and his injuries he was being redeployed.

To Coruscant.

To the Guard.

Part of Fox would almost have preferred he be sent back to Kamino, almost, but not quite.

Rex'ika was coming to the Guard, his vod'ika, the little brother they'd taken into their batch so so many years ago.

He was coming to the Guard.

Fox was terrified, but he wasn't sure if it was because Rex was going to be in danger, or because he was going to learn the truth.

And then Rex would tell Cody and Wolffe and Bly and Ponds and the truth would come out and everything would get out and there would be chaos. The Guard wouldn't just be cowardly paper pushing meat droids, they'd be the weak cowardly paper pushing meat droids who couldn't defend themselves from some rich Senator who'd never held a blaster or thrown a punch.

Like being spat on and insulted wasn't enough already.

Vode an, except when you were in the Guard.

There was more to it, to Rex's joining them, he was certain of it. Rex'ika worked with Skywalker, Skywalker was close with Palpatine, Palpatine was... Fox wasn't sure what but he didn't want him near his brothers. Palpatine was the reason Skywalker hadn't been on Umbara, the reason that Krell had been allowed to play with the clones like toys, the reason so many of Rex's vode were dead... the reason for a lot of things.

Skywalker was the reason Rex was being transferred to them, at least the reason Palpatine was having him transferred. He wasn't certain why, but with how close Skywalker was to Palpatine, how he acted around them sometimes, especially after a meeting with Palpatine, that Jedi wasn't to be trusted. He was dangerous, saw himself above them whether he realised it or not, and he could have them killed if he wanted.

It they'd been sending Rex almost anywhere else, he'd have been glad his brother was getting away from Skywalker.

Getting closer to Palpatine was hardly something he wanted though.

.

.

.

Fox watched the LAAT arrive, and watched his vod’s so clearly unique blue armour appear.

He stayed to the edge of the landing pad until the LAAT had taken off again, and Captain Velt, who lead one of the Lower Level Security Teams and would be, hopefully, looking after Rex and keeping him out of the Senate Building, had introduced himself.

And then he strode over.

Velt knew what he had planned, and had in fact anticipated it, but it wasn’t often one of their vode was brought into the Guard rather than bringing in Shinies, and he knew well enough that Fox was going to be protective of his batch-mate, adopted or not. Velt stepped back as he approached, nodding to Rex and then going to his own squad.

“Rex’ika, with me.”

“What, Fox, where… shouldn’t I...?”

Rex gestured to Velt and his squad.

“No,” Fox grabbed him by the wrist and started pulling, not letting Rex resist, “you come with me, right now.”

He dragged his brother through the halls into the Command barracks, thankful that for all he was clearly annoyed about it, Rex didn’t fight him.

“What was so important, Fox? If you really wanted to catch up you couldn’t wait until I'd settled in?”

He had a meeting in 20 minutes he couldn’t miss, which meant he had no time to address the subtle barb he’d been offered, nor to sugar coat what was happening on Coruscant.

"Vod, you have a lot to learn about the Guard if you're going to survive here."

“Fox, I'm sure General Skywalker will try to get me back to the 501st soon. And I can manage a few weeks handling paperwork.”

“No, no, vod, it’s not paperwork and fun times here. Rex, it’s horrific, and I'm not letting them decommission you because you didn’t know how to protect yourself here.”

“It’ll be a few weeks...”

“Palpatine had you transferred here for a reason, I don’t know what, but I don’t trust Skywalker much better. He’s dangerous, vod.”

“I think I know my General better than you.”

“So you’ve never noticed how he acts after a meeting with the Chancellor, because last time he had one he shoved a shinie into a wall. He's dangerous, maybe not to you when he’s in a good mood, but... but that’s not what you need to know. You're here, you need to survive here. Besides, no-one leaves the Guard except in a body bag,” he left out the or worse, Rex didn’t need that yet, “Rule one...”

“Fox wait...”

“Rule one, you don’t ever, and I mean ever, fight back. Rule two, keep your armour uniform, so if you’re ever accused of anything or slated for reconditioning or decommissioning you can be swapped around. Rule three, no matter how weird or demeaning, you do what you’re ordered. Rule 4, if they call you it or clone or anything like that, don’t argue or try to impress on them your name or anything like that, just do what they say. Don’t react. Now I'm trying to get you put into one of the units that takes patrols rather than on Senate Security, but I can't make promises.”

Rex looked blown away, and a little shattered, but this was reality and he couldn’t afford to be soft on his little brother.

Not if he wanted Rex to live.

His comm buzzed a warning.

“Look, Rex’ika, I have a meeting, but the rec room and commissary are down the hall to the right, I’m sure someone can help you settle in and... I'll answer any questions you have properly tonight.”

He wondered if his voice sounded as defeated to his vod’ika as it did to him.

It didn’t matter, he slammed his buy’ce on his head and headed up to the Senate Building.

He couldn’t keep the Chancellor waiting, not even for his youngest batch mate.

———

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.

Thanks for the ask, I love the idea for this AU though I’m not sure yet how or if I’ll continue from here. If anyone has ideas or wants to take it on or anything like that go nuts (obvs let me know lmao).

Like I said at the top, Anakin is nice to the 501st, but all Fox sees is someone close to Palpatine and someone who is always aggressive to them after spending time with Palpatine. He sees Skywalker as a threat and he has to focus on his siblings first. Similarly the vode don't hate the Guard and wouldn't see them as cowards, but due to Palpatine's manipulations, on both Fox's mind and the vode as a whole, these are Fox's beliefs.

Also Anakin is kinda unstable due to palpatine manipulating things, and similarly that why the Jedi can't see whats happening to the clones on Coruscant, but normally (and if/when they find out) they'd be horrified and do what they can to help.

Inbox always open. (-:

[hayjeon]

Tips on creating fun fanfic headers!

i had so much fun writing the fanfic writing tips yesterday and i got a few more questions about header-making, and so i decided to make one more of these! i hope these tips help somebody out there! hope you enjoy :) 

p.s. these tips won’t require any hard editing skills or photoshop skills, nor any expensive tablets/apps! 

typically i spend around ~5-10 min creating one header, and that’s either after i think of/finish a fic. i have so much fun doing it and sharing it with you that i figured i’d share how i do it! 

why headers? 

as I talked about in my fic tips, one of the most eye-catching things about fics are headers. when i’m scrolling through a rec page, my home page, a tag, or even someone’s masterlist, i’m immediately drawn to well-made headers. that’s what captures my attention, and then i’m more drawn in by the content. so, you can say that headers is your own version of an ad for your own fic, or an extension of it (like the cover of a novel!) 

if you were writing your own book, imagine how much time you’d spend figuring out what you wanted your cover to look like. i try to have as much fun and invest as much time making my own headers because it’s just the cherry on top to my finished product :) 

disclaimer: BUT HEADERS ARE NOT NECESSARY/DO OR DIE! if you don’t feel like you want to do this, then keep writing! its ok! this is just a suggestion. i’ve seen plenty of well-written fics without headers at all, so don’t beat yourself up over not having one/not wanting to do one. this is truly just a fun, extra kind of thing, and only keep reading if you want to learn how i do it! :) 

tips for people who don’t want to make headers: if you still want something to make your fic stand out, use gifs! i use them in my drabbles a lot! this will at least give ur fic a lil boost! 

how to find pictures

I typically use unsplash, which is a free website in which photographers upload their HQ pics for free use. the pics are really high quality, typically stock photos, and don’t have any logos on them like other ones on google. unfortunately, you won’t find any pics of the members or anything, but you’ll find beautiful stock photos of typical scenes like “ocean scene” or “desert scene.” I found the stock photo for cut me open (shown below) on that site by just looking up “medical” or “doctor”. 

i used to use google a lot and just use keywords like “desert scene HQ” and edit the search settings to deliver HQ pics, and a minimum # of pixels, but unplash is definitely better in terms of quality, more aesthetic photos, and no logos/watermarks. 

on some occasions, i will screenshot some scenes of youtube videos, turning up the quality to 1080p or 4k and zooming in so that the pixelation is as crisp as possible, and then editing it later to look good (which i’ll explain in a second!) 

the above photo was a scene from the specific characters from the drama, “100 Days My Prince” that I screenshotted from a youtube video that TvN uploaded, recapping the drama. I cropped it just right so that their faces were left out, which i’ll also mention soon! 

things to look for when picking pictures: 

you want the picture to reflect a specific motif/theme from your fic! if its a moody fic, then try to find a moody scene that you can edit with filters/lighting to look even moodier; or if the characters’ jobs are a big portion of the fic (like cut me open/doctor theme) try to look for stock photos with that shown very clearly!

make sure its high quality: tumblr really dumbs down the quality of the photo when uploading it, so try your best to find something with a lot of pixels in it so that when you start editing, you don’t sacrifice too much of the quality already

try to look for something simple/clean: a picture with too much subject (ie. people in the background, or too much detail) may end up taking away from the main point of your header, which is your title. so find pics without too much clutter! 

try to make sure its landscape: which will help during editing to save some of the quality better. 

editing your pictures

now that you have a specific photo you want to use, now its time to edit! I use VSCO CAM (free app) and my own apple photos cropping tool for faster crops. 

crop/adjust: if your picture is too large/wide, crop it to at least a 16:9 ratio. i’d say aim for skinnier if you can, so that you don’t take up too much space (especially if you’re planning to add headers to your masterlist). also crop out any faces, any clutter, any unnecessary details, so you have a nice, clean slate to work on when adding text. 

contrast/sharpen/clarity/white balance/etc.: i’m not gonna give you a lesson on photography, but i’ll tell you I learned like 80% of everything that i know just by fiddling with it on VSCO! So just try it out and play with the app, see what you can make of it. i’d say a rule of thumb to follow is that you want happier fics with a brighter tone, and moodier/angsty fics with a darker tone so that it can reflect the nature of the fic further, without saying anything! 

if you wanna be extra af like me, then go a step further and photoshop your pics. this one is a good example; when i screenshotted this scene from another youtube video for my fic One Year My Love part 2, i was specifically looking for a scene that would showcase the ornate/regal details of their clothing/environment in contrast to part 1′s modest clothing/scene (the first header in this post). 

i found this scene, but actually, this scene portrays the Crown Prince and the Princess, not y/n. So, the actors weren’t smiling at all! They were actually frowning at eachother in this scene, to portray the tension between the two characters and their marriage. 

So, I took the extra step, adjusting the pic with VSCO so that their shoulders/chins were at the same level, cropped off their faces up until their lips, and then used the adobe photoshop free app to photoshop their lips to be SMILING at eachother!!!! subtle, but important! 

call me crazy for taking that much time but i’m so proud of how it turned out and i loved every second of making this one. that way, this scene makes it portray the happy ending for Jungkook and y/n! 

adding text to your header

you can use any app out there, but i really like Font Candy! I actually ended up buying the 2$ version of this and never regretted it, but you can actually find a lot of their basic fonts on the free version; I tend to use the fonts: OSTRICH SANS, BEBAS, TREND, and INTRO the most! these are pretty clean-looking, block letters that look good whenever i put them as my titles. 

I love this app too cause you can easily control the spacing between letters to make them take up more space, add shadows, or even make them contrast their background using the overlay feature; like this one i made for wildest dreams (see how the text changes depending on what part of the photo its on? amazing! it’s literally with a click of a button!!)

And i’ll always add “written by HAYJEON” or “by HAYEJON”, space it out, and add it somewhere underneath as my own branding.

orrrrrr 

if you want to be more creative, you can even go a step further and use whatever you have on hand to enhance whatever you’re trying to portray. 

for this one, i ended up finding this amazing photo on unsplash and i thought it would do a create job of portraying the “movie-set” quality of what wildest dreams is going to be about. this stock photo had someone else’s names on it, so i used my ipad, and used instagram to just erase the existing writing with the color of the background, and then wrote in my own title and url with my own handwriting/apple pen!!! 

i thought this was pretty cool because it’s like wildest dreams is its own movie/has its own movie set, which, once it’s out, you guys will see that it’s supposed to be! 

saving/uploading

this is pretty easy/obvious, but i figured i’d mention it. all the apps i mentioned are available on the appstore, and they will save directly to your photos. after doing that, i’ll just upload them into a special folder i have on my google drive so that when i’m finished writing a fic on tumblr using my laptop, i can easily download the photos without sacrificing quality. easy! 

and that way, i can save them forever; even if i have to delete them from my computer, i can always redownload them! 

side note: making text separators

i just recently started doing this, but ever since tumblr took down their text separators, i’ve just been cropping the bottom like 5-10 pixels of the header to use as my text separators! (with my laptop)

i saw some other writer doing it and thought that it looked better than what i had used previously (a cropped photo of a random line i found on google); i found that doing this tied my fics together a little better and just looked better aesthetically; 

so there it is! hope you enjoyed! :) i would love to see what other tips you guys have been using, feel free to send me an ask or reply to this post; and if you end up using any of my tips, please let me know! I love to hear from you guys all the time <3 

lots of love, especially during these times, 

hay <3 

[nerteragranadensis]

uhhh look I don't have a pairing but let's say star trek, and a lyric from Boy in the Bubble, "the way we look to a distant constellation that's dying in the corner of the sky/ these are the days of miracle and wonder and don't cry baby/don't cry don't cry." like not to appreciate paul simon on main or anything but that's been sticking with me

Jim woke up as the door opened. 

“Captain?”

The first thing he saw, of course, was Spock’s face. Jim blinked, trying to orient himself. He was still on the observation deck. Good. That’s good. That was where he had fallen asleep. And Spock—Spock stood just inside the doors, holding a PADD and some sort of scientific device. Jim couldn’t parse it. He blinked again. 

“What time is it?”

“Forty-two minutes past midnight,” Spock said, without checking. Of course he knows. He looked at Jim with—not an expression, Spock tried not to have facial expressions, but Jim could tell he wanted to ask a question. Probably something along the lines of why are you sleeping on the observation deck. 

“Go ahead,” he said. 

Spock opened his mouth. Then he hesitated. “Am I disturbing you?”

“What?” Spock hesitated again. Jim’s brain caught up with him, finally, and he waved the question off. “No, it’s fine. I’m already awake.” He pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing at the kinks in his neck. Spock stared at him a minute longer before moving. 

He crossed the deck to the viewscreen. He set his PADD down on a table and began assembling the other thing—a telescope, Jim realized, later than he should have. It made sense. The Enterprise’s observation decks were meant for stellar observation first and foremost, though in Jim’s time aboard they had functioned more as overflow space. The telescope stood on a bulky tripod, so Spock could use it with his hands free. He picked up the PADD again. 

“Is something… happening?” Jim said. Spock looked back at him, and he winced. “I mean… I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

He didn’t mean to be sarcastic, hand to God, but Spock’s face looked like a block of granite. Jim’s stomach turned over. “I mean—” He tried again. “Do you need… help?”

Spock turned back to his telescope. “I do not require assistance,” he said.

He ignored Jim after that, in favor of taking observations and recording—something—on his PADD. Jim sat on the couch, tense as a wire. There had to be another corner of the ship he could crash in. He didn’t have to bother Spock. He didn’t want to bother Spock. He had done enough to Spock for one lifetime. 

He slid off the couch. His back popped as he stood up. He stretched his arms out, a reflex, and saw movement at the corner of his eye. Spock, facing him again. 

“I apologize,” Spock said. It was, somehow, the last thing Jim wanted to hear. 

“Don’t,” he said. “It’s—” It’s fine was a copout, so vague as to be undefinable, and he had a feeling Spock was catching on to that. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Nor did you,” Spock said. “I did not expect to find anyone here. I meant no offense.” 

“None taken,” Jim said. He glanced at the telescope, the blanket of stars outside the viewscreen. What the hell. He was already awake. “What are you looking at?”

There was a brief pause.

“At 2000 hours,” Spock said, “Lacalle’s star appeared to enter runaway fusion, preceding a supernova. It would benefit our astronomical records to observe and record such an event, should it occur.”

“A supernova?” Jim said. “So… you stayed up to watch it?”

“To observe and record it.”

“Right.” There must be a million stars visible from the viewscreen. Jim had no hope of picking out the right one. 

Spock turned back to the telescope. Jim drifted closer to the viewscreen, trying to guess which quadrant Lacalle’s star might be in. It was possible—probable—that the supernova would be invisible to the naked eye. They were lucky to be within observation distance at all. Astronomically lucky that a supernova might occur in the middle of their voyage back to Earth. 

The observation deck settled into quiet. Spock leaned over the telescope—noted something on his PADD—and resumed observation, his movements precise. Jim stood still, listening to the rumble of the impulse engines. For the first time in days, no one needed anything from him. 

He thought of an old corvette, parked in a field in the middle of nowhere. Him and Winona laid out on the hood, watching the full moon turn from white to rust-red. Talking about lunar nodes and Rayleigh scattering, and nothing else, nothing but the moon and the stars and the wind brushing through the grass. 

“The event is beginning.” Spock’s voice cut through the silence. 

“That’s so ominous,” Jim said. He glanced over and saw Spock looking back at him, one eyebrow raised. “I mean—it sounds….” He made a meaningless gesture at the viewscreen, unable to explain himself. 

“Would you like to observe it?”

Jim looked back again in surprise. Spock held eye contact. “You’re serious,” Jim said—another pointless comment, because Spock was always serious. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

Spock stepped aside. Jim went to the telescope. He leaned over it. His eye lined up to the observation chamber, and he saw a white star, surrounded by spectral light. It glowed—so bright it outshone anything Jim had ever seen, star or planet. He swore he saw the field around it flickering. 

“That’s incredible.” He stood back from the telescope, letting Spock resume his place. “I’ve never seen anything like that. Not live.” 

“Lacalle’s star is approximately 10.6 light years from our position,” Spock said, his eye on the telescope. “What appears to be a synchronous event, to us, has already occurred more than a decade ago.”

A foregone conclusion. 

Jim spotted the supernova through the viewscreen—a vivid white star that hadn’t been there a minute ago, shining brighter than Sirius or Polaris. It happened so quickly. One minute, an unknowably ancient star, and the next….

He was tired. That was why his throat ached and his eyes felt wet. He was even more tired than usual. In less than six hours he would be up and putting out fires, and instead of sleeping he stood and watched a star burn itself out in slow motion. He blinked hard and kept his face to the viewscreen. 

It’s beautiful. 

Spock spoke up again a few minutes later, with his eye still to the telescope. “The event will likely continue for several hours,” he said. 

“Are you going to stay?” Jim said. “We—we have other science officers. If you need a relief.” 

Spock was quiet. Jim glanced at him, searching for some hint of a reaction to guide him. The viewing apparatus hid most of Spock’s face. He stood straight as always—bent slightly at the waist to look through the scope—but he looked relaxed. 

“I will stay.” When he spoke, his voice was soft. “I want to see it.”

“Okay,” Jim said. He looked at the viewscreen again—Lacalle’s star in the distance, large and bright. He was tired. He needed sleep, before the next catastrophe. He thought of the rec room on deck eleven. The captain’s ready room—his ready room, though it didn’t feel like it. Nothing onboard did. He still felt a jolt of surprise every time someone on the bridge called him Captain. 

“Do you mind if I stay?” he said. Spock lifted his head; Jim avoided his gaze. “I won’t bother you, I promise. I just need…” Somewhere to sleep, he almost said, but that might invite questions, and he couldn’t put words to his dread of the captain’s quarters. He didn’t want to talk about it. “...somewhere quiet.”

Spock looked at him for a moment longer; then he nodded, once, and returned to the telescope. Jim let out a long breath. He returned to the couch in the corner of the deck. Sat down, leaned back, closed his eyes. 

The observation deck was quiet.

[gffa]

Anyway, so I’m going to try to answer some asks and get back into a positive fandom space again by a) giving myself some breathing room and b) yelling about things I love again.

I wanted to answer these separately because each one of them is precious and wonderful, that you took the time to reach out and share parts of yourself and to be kind to another human, “thank you” seems like too little in response for such sweetness, but it’s meant with my entire heart--but I worried that it would be spending a little too much time navel-gazing.  I’ve done a lot of that over the past few days and it was necessary at the time and I feel better for it, but also it’s time to shake the cobwebs off, too. I’m sorry to anyone who’s had to go through something like this (whether depression or other mental health issues) or even has had to watch someone they wish they could help more, because that feeling of helplessness sucks a lot, too.  I always wish I had better words for times like this, having been on both sides of it. Talking helps.  We can’t solve each others’ problems, nor are we each others’ therapists, but knowing that there are others out there who have gone through similar things or who just feel for you when you do, that you’re connected to other people through kind messages on the internet, it’s been helping me a lot. The kind messages about the fic recs/meta are deeply flattering and honoring, I appreciate them more than you guys know.  But even more than that, I appreciate the kindness in reaching out to say something nice when you saw someone was upset and could use a reminder of that connection. I’ve been kind of here/kind of not here the last couple of days, I scroll through my dash, I’ve scheduled posts in the queue, I managed one or two original text posts, but I think I’m feeling on an upswing again.  Sometimes having things come to a head helps a lot to get moving along again, even if I feel like, “You made a whole series of posts about it, how dare you not take months and months to get better!  Obviously, you were never really depressed if you’re feeling better!” I say after months and months (ha ha, more like years and years) of trying to deal with these feelings.  (Bad brain chemistry sucks.) I wish I had more energy for you guys lately, I feel like there was this stretch of like six months to a year where I was totally in the zone and doing great and then fandom was shitty and I let it get to me and now I don’t know how to get it back out of my system, how to get back to a place of something good again. I think a lot comes back to how mad I am at fandom, that it feels like it’s ramped up in shittiness again lately, and so everything I can think to talk about comes out feeling salty and it’s fun to be salty in the moment, but when I write an entire series of salty posts, I actually start to feel kind of depressed, like this is all SW fandom is for me anymore?  Being mad all the time?  And that furthered my depression spiral, because it was one of the things I used to perk myself up with when IRL was being shitty. Then to have fic recs sort of sweep in and feel like they weren’t being useful in the way I’d tailored myself to (and, for the most part, really like my mindset towards them), it just sort of felt like the whole thing was rotten from top to bottom and I didn’t know how to go about making it better again. I don’t know if I have any more answers than I did a few days ago, but I do at least feel more on an even keel emotionally, I’m not holding myself back from screaming into the void or deleting all my toys and going home, and a lot of that is thanks to everyone who reached out and reminded me that there are so many good people in this fandom that I genuinely treasure. That positivity does have its place in fandom, even when it felt like negativity was constantly being rewarded/that I was contributing to that as well.  (As always, this isn’t about how anyone else chooses to do fandom, there are plenty of things to be angry about even in fandom spaces, I’m speaking on a personal experience level of how anger has truly poisoned me in the past and I don’t want that to ever happen again, I don’t want to lose years of my life or entire relationships to that anger again.) So, I’m going to try to get back to a positive mindset, not because negativity doesn’t have its place, but because it actually genuinely does feel a hell of a lot better and makes me feel less burnt out on everything and reminds me to get back up and keep going again, that this whole difficult journey in life is worth it, even if I’m just talking about Star Wars fandom right now. And, again, thank you to everyone who has sent a positive message, I’m trying to respond to all of them, but just know that even if I collapse before I get to them all, I read them and literally every single one of them was treasured.  Not a single one of them didn’t touch my heart.

[the-odd-job]

Ashes of Icarus chapter 20 - Black Heat of True Love

Warnings: Chose Not to Use Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Optimus, Megatron, Ratchet, Ironhide Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Additional Tags: Dubcon, Unplanned Pregnancy, Mechpreg, Sticky Words: 2922

( Previous )

Time’s up.

Sixteen months. Sixteen months since Ratchet discovered the sparkling that was only a little older than that.

Sixteen months since Ratchet made his threat to do what he had to to uncover the little one’s sire.

And the sparkling itself… It was getting big enough for its signature to start to show. It was faint, so, so faint for now, but it was there. If you looked any closer, noticed the anomaly in Sunstreaker’s spark signature and focused on it… It was there. 

Megatron still hadn’t shown up, and Sunstreaker wondered if he was lying when he said he’d let the Autobots know—trying to cow Sunstreaker into doing it himself, into wrecking his whole goddamn life himself. Because now, it was Ratchet’s time that was up. Soon Megatron could do no more damage than what had already been one. 

Couldn’t bring his life into even greater ruins.

Not after the command learned about this.

But still… Sunstreaker hadn’t told Ratchet, and now, as the sparkling was becoming more obvious, he still refused to make the truth any easier to find. He sequestered himself in his and Sideswipe’s quarters whenever he wasn’t on duty, or left the Ark and all of its mecha behind entirely to spend time where there was no one to read spark signatures. He didn’t step a pede in the rec room; Sideswipe brought his ratios to him.

But he still had his duties. Primus, he was terrible company during them, to an extent that mecha started to actively swap their duties with Sideswipe—or with anyone else dumb enough—just so they wouldn’t have to deal with him. That worked in Sunstreaker’s favor when he didn’t have to quite as constantly worry that any moment someone could check the spark signatures around them, and notice there was one more than what there were mecha present—and that the additional one layered on top of Sunstreaker’s signature.

Sixteen months to the day and Ratchet called him into the medbay. Sunstreaker went, reluctantly, because he had a pretty good idea of what this was about… And that his hopes of escaping it were growing slimmer by the minute.

He still didn’t know what the frag would happen to him, or what the frag Ratchet would think once it was confirmed that the sire was Megatron after all. Sunstreaker wasn’t too eager to find out either, but what choice did he have? Just run away right about now? Desert?

Damn if the thought wasn’t starting to look a lot more tempting.

To that end… Him and Sideswipe gathered their few personal possessions and stored them in their subspaces—just in case they’d need to make a hasty exit for their own safety.

For the sparklet’s safety.

But first, Ratchet’s summons. As ever in recent times, it was a tense walk through the Ark, from their quarters to the medbay. The worry that someone would walk by and notice was his constant companion now. 

He’d brought this on himself.

He’d made some ill advised decisions, given in to lust and thrill… And now it was his time to pay for it.

Sideswipe said nothing, became nothing but his steady, constant companion as the medbay doors opened for them. Ratchet was waiting, arms crossed across his chassis, his expression infinitely serious.

Had he found out already?

No, he hadn’t. “Last chance, Sunstreaker,” he said instead, after the doors had closed behind them. “Please tell me who the sire is so that I don’t have to alert the whole command.”

“What does it matter?” Sunstreaker asked, frowning. Glaring. “Scan me,” he continued. “The sparkling’s already noticeable. Everyone’s gonna know soon enough.”

“That you’re carrying, yes,” Ratchet conceded, matching his frown. “But not the identity of the sire, necessarily. If you tell me who they are, I will not be within my rights to tell anyone.

“But if I need to access the spec ops records… I will have to share that information with the command.

“Sunstreaker, please think about this.”

He wanted to. Pits, what did he have to lose at this point? One way or another, Ratchet would learn—but here it was, the smallest of chances that no one but him would need to know the specifics. 

It wasn’t even a real gamble anymore. He could maintain his silence and lose, or he could tell the truth. Maybe it would change nothing—maybe Ratchet would have to disclose that information no matter what he said.

But maybe, just maybe, he could keep it to himself. Tell no one. Leave it between the two-three of them. 

Someone might find out anyway, at some point, but pits… Maybe no one would.

Or was it realistic to even hope for that much? Cliffjumper at least was already suspicious, and would no matter go out of his way to get a sample of Megatron’s spark signature to see if it was a match to the sparkling’s.

And even without that, what about Megatron himself? He wanted something to do with the sparkling—wanted to claim it. He’d already threatened to announce himself as the sire, as much as he hadn’t done it yet. Sunstreaker didn’t doubt that sooner or later the warlord would demand to get his hands on the sparklet, and invoke his rights as the sire to do so. 

But would all of that be easier to weather with Ratchet on their side?

What could he lose by telling the truth, anymore?

Sunstreaker worked his jaw and tried to will himself into saying what he’d kept silent about for nearly a year and a half by now. If anyone deserved to know, it was Ratchet.

If anyone might understand, it was Ratchet.

But before he could get the words out, the alarm sounded. Near everyone was called to the entrance of the Ark, them and Ratchet included. That was… Unusual, to say the least, but Sideswipe shrugged at him.

They’d just have to continue this afterwards, once they could actually talk about it, instead of just… Tossing it out there. He wanted to hear Ratchet’s thoughts and not have to wonder what they were because there was a fragging battle or something between the truth and the aftermath of telling it.

The brothers turned on their heels and set to run down the halls towards the entrance, Ratchet following them at a slightly reduced pace.

Most of the Autobots had already assembled there. Eager fighters as they were, the twins pushed to the front of the group, next to Ironhide–

–Before they actually looked at what the slag was going on.

Sunstreaker wasn’t sure what he was expecting after an alert such as this, but he still froze when he saw Megatron and his… Entourage.

That was all it could be called, because it was nowhere near enough to be any threat to the Autobot forces at their own damn doorstep. There was Astrotrain, Soundwave, a few Seekers. No one else.

It was almost like Megatron hadn’t come here to fight.

“What is the meaning of this, Megatron?” Optimus asked with a booming voice once most of the Autobots had made it to the scene. Ratchet pushed to the front too, standing on Ironhide’s other side. Sideswipe glanced at him.

Ratchet’s expression was… Tense.

But not surprised, confused, or distrustful, like most others’. 

Sunstreaker only had optics for Megatron. If looks could fragging kill, the warlord would be dead ten times over. 

“I came to collect Sunstreaker,” was Megatron’s answer. Frank.

Way too frank.

Murmurs rose among the Autobots and Sunstreaker could feel so many optics on just him, now. 

But he didn’t avert his gaze from Megatron, nor did it turn any less murderous.

So. This was it, now, wasn’t it? Megatron’s ultimatum was here. Neither Sunstreaker nor Ratchet had acted fast enough—if Megatron would have even been satisfied with anything more than a full publication of their affair.

By the end of this, he doubted there would be anyone who didn’t know what he’d done.

“On what grounds, Megatron?” Optimus asked, and pits but he sounded angry. Megatron, meanwhile, only had an air of confidence, the kind someone would wear when they knew they were in the right and would get what they wanted. 

Sunstreaker wasn’t sure Megatron was wrong with that presumption.

And Megatron’s answer to Optimus came like a wrecking ball through all the life Sunstreaker had ever had: “On the grounds that I am the sire of his sparkling.”

If there were optics that hadn’t turned to him yet, they did now.

“I slagging knew it!” Cliffjumper yelled, but most of the other sounds around them were nothing but exclamations of surprise or horror.

Sunstreaker’s armor trembled.

He didn’t avert his gaze from Megatron. The tyrant met it evenly.

Slagger knew exactly what he was doing.

“Is this true?” Optimus’ volume lowered enough that it was clear he was addressing Sunstreaker now…

But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t look away from Megatron, and the only sound he made was the revving of his engine.

Anger. A hell of a lot of it.

“Scan him,” Megatron said after a moment. There were a few seconds of hesitation before Sunstreaker felt many, many scanners sweep over him. He knew what they’d find, and indeed there were gasps, disbelief, as they made out the sparkling, his sparkling… And then other scans that reached past him, to Megatron.

Read his spark signature, compare it to the one existing next to Sunstreaker’s—find a match.  

“Kid…” Ironhide breathed next to him.

Sunstreaker wouldn’t look at him.

He wouldn’t look at any of them as his life crumbled around him, crashed down into rubble and ruins–

–All thanks to what he’d done.

All thanks to what Megatron was doing.

Who could he blame more, himself or the warlord?

“Did you force one of my soldiers?” Optimus asked, and pits, but he was almost growling. So fucking unlike him, so angry on Sunstreaker’s behalf—thinking of the bad option immediately.

And not of the even worse. Because surely Sunstreaker couldn’t have.

Not with Megatron.

But he had.

“Oh, but I didn’t force him, did I, Sunstreaker?” Megatron said, so smug. He was methodically destroying everything—until there would be nothing Sunstreaker could say.

Until he’d have no place to go.

His servos clenched into fists, his engine growled… But what could he do? Megatron only spoke the truth, because the truth was bad enough—worse than any lies could have been. Lies he could have proven long, lies would not have changed a thing.

But he couldn’t deny the truth that could be proven as such. One look into his head, just one look at his memories, and they’d see him spreading his legs and moaning for Megatron’s spike.

They’d see him betraying his side—sleeping with the one mech who was supposed to be his worst enemy. The one who’d brought ruin to Cybertron, ruin upon their species… And now, ruin on Sunstreaker’s life. 

“Sunstreaker,” Optimus said, and from the corner of his vision he could see the Prime look at him, concern, anger, and disbelief on his face. “Is this true?”

He ground his denta together hard enough that his jaw hurt from the tension, and his silence spoke for itself. He didn’t deny it, did he?

But neither did he confirm it, and to Optimus that wasn’t proof enough one way or another. He looked back at Megatron and took a step forward. “Even if that were true,” he started, his voice rising again so everyone could hear him, “you cannot force Sunstreaker to go with you if he doesn’t want to.”

Megatron didn’t have the decency to look so much as annoyed. “It is my sparkling. I have as much rights to it as its carrier.”

Somehow Optimus still managed to keep his voice from falling into a straight up growl. “The carrier should have control over their own life.”

The tyrant then bypassed Optimus entirely, his red, evil optics moving to Sunstreaker. “What do you want to do, Sunstreaker?” he asked, although not for one moment did Sunstreaker fool himself into thinking the bastard gave one flying fuck about what he wanted.

He was just playing games—tearing Sunstreaker’s past life to shreds he’d never be able to put back together.

“You could have gotten rid of it,” Megatron continued, tilting his helm like he was fragging inquisitive. “But you didn’t. You kept it, and told me about it.

“Why is that?”

He didn’t fragging know anymore! He’d known keeping it was a mistake from the beginning, but… Primus, he’d never known why he made that decision.

That decision now landed him here. The Autobots at his back, at his sides, murmured to each other in low voices, trying to make sense of the situation and condemning him and his actions—fragging the enemy, willingly, and keeping the end result when that left him ignited.

Keeping something that was part Megatron, the cruel despot whose actions were straight from a mech’s worst nightmares—that every Autobot was sworn to fight to prevent him from gaining full control over their species.

That Megatron had sired his sparkling, and he’d kept it. It was growing within his spark chamber even as they spoke, the evil seed of one of the most vile mechs in Cybertron’s history. 

How could he just stand there and let it live in him?

“Come here, Sunstreaker,” Megatron said then, his voice firm. Sunstreaker sneered. Slag Megatron if he thought he could just order him around!

But the tyrant continued, “You have no future among them, and you know it.”

And… He couldn’t really argue with that.

Optimus could, though. “Megatron! I cannot permit you to walk here and… Threaten one of my soldiers–”

“I’ve only spoken the truth, Prime–”

“–It is Sunstreaker’s decision to make, you cannot–”

Sunstreaker tuned their argument out. Was it his decision? 

Maybe on the surface. He’d be the one to make his own frame move.

But did he have options? That was a different question entirely. Could he stay with the Autobots? After this? His reputation and his name were branded for good, and no one would forget Sunstreaker had borne the bastard child of Megatron. He was an outcast to begin with, never quite fitting in—never even really trying to. He wasn’t like most other Autobots, not with his background, not with his upbringing. The rift was great to begin with, and this… This would only turn it into an impassable canyon.  

Megatron was right, he had no future among the Autobots.

What, then, could he do? Could he go his own way? Go Neutral?  

Wasn’t the answer to that a resounding no? What would make anyone think Megatron would let him while he was still carrying his sparkling? While Megatron was here, claiming the sparklet he was carrying, demanding that he go to his side?

What did that leave him with? 

He’d never been a victim, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Without a single glance back or off to the sides, with optics for no one but Megatron, Sunstreaker stepped from the Autobot ranks. One step. Ironhide made an alarmed sound. He could barely feel the weapons specialist’s digits brush against his arm.

Two steps, staring the tyrant in the fucking optic.

Three steps. Steady, steady steps. Not once did he falter, not once did he hesitate as Megatron’s face drew into a victorious smile. 

“See, Optimus?” Megatron yet antagonized his greatest enemy, gesturing at Sunstreaker. “He made the decision all on his own.”

What else could he do?

What kind of decision was this?

“Sunstreaker!” Optimus called after him, “You don’t need to do this.”

“Oh, but I do,” he hissed, just loud enough to carry to everyone’s audials.

Sunstreaker spun around on his heel, taking steps backwards—never once halting in his retreat from the Autobots. “I spread my legs to your nemesis, Optimus,” he said, loud and clear. “I let him ‘face me into the fragging dirt. I got ignited, although that much was an accident, but I didn’t tell anyone. I lied about it to everyone—I lied to your face. I lied to Ratchet.

“I lied to the bitter end, Prime.” He could feel Megatron’s field at his back, thick, oily, triumphant, welcoming. Sunstreaker spread his arms as he took that last step to his lover’s side. “Would you accept someone like me?”

“Sunstreaker–” Optimus tried.

Megatron’s heavy servo landed on his shoulder and Sunstreaker cut his former leader off. “I was never yours to save, Optimus.”

It was never more than a mistake.

Sideswipe hadn’t moved yet, but now he did—only to be stopped by Ironhide, grabbing a hold of his arm. “Sideswipe…”

There was only one way this could go.

They were twins.  

Sideswipe didn’t meet Ironhide’s optics when he yanked himself free from the old mech’s hold. “I can’t leave him.”

With that Sideswipe ran the distance between the two sides of the war, coming to a stop by Sunstreaker’s side. He stole a few glances at Megatron, but the tyrant was smiling at Optimus. “Now that I have what I came here for… Thank you for your hospitality, Optimus.”

He turned to the brothers and nodded towards Astrotrain, who transformed into a shuttle at the cue. “Get on Astrotrain. He’ll fly you.”

Sideswipe nodded and turned to leave, as did Sunstreaker—but not without one more fleeting glance towards his former faction. 

Oh, how many shocked faces and betrayed optics they were leaving behind.

But he walked out of there with his helm held high.

[littlegalerion]

I couldn’t just reply directly to one because then it wouldn’t make sense, as the other two halves of the Asks would be missing. 

I want to start by saying if you enjoy Almalexia, be it in a simple way or in a thirst way, good for you. You enjoy the game how you want to enjoy it, because that’s what a game is for.

Now, that being said, I see absolutely no case for trying to “reclaim” Almalexia. Mainly because these “years of injustice” towards gay or female villains have long since passed. Yes, it was a thing, and yes it was horrible. But we’ve since moved on. I mean, as a woman, I’m proud to say that I could be flicking through TV channels or various options on any streaming app and find a series featuring a strong, independent woman- or involving a complex female villain who isn’t just “ugly”, but just enjoys being evil OR has a complicated and sympathetic background that forced her to become the villain.

Off the top of my head:

Hunger Games Parks and Rec The Office She-Ra  Steven Universe Owl House Rick Riordan collections Moana The Polar Express Song of the Sea

Wonder Woman

All these either feature one or both a strong female hero or a complex female villain, and they’re just the icing on the very real and very stable female empowerment cake.  

Will we still see ugly women portrayed in some fiction as villains? Yes, but we will also see ugly men portrayed as the villains. Usually for a purely comedic effect. If it’s bad taste, it’s easily seen as bad taste and therefore not well received, especially online. As for the gay aspect, that too has been changing- and funny enough some of the examples listed above are testimony to that!

Now to Almalexia herself:

I have to disagree, and argue that stating she is a “poorly written female” is a total injustice. Almalexia is an insanely good female villain. Why? Because when you face her, you feel fear. You know you are faced with an actual threat, a real challenge of a boss fight. She’s clever, resourceful, and you know she’s powerful enough to do as she pleases. After all, earlier in game she asks you to go force some dunmer to start worshiping her again or she’ll send an actual fatal storm to wipe them out. 

Please understand: the dunmer have a backwards and suffocating culture. They shove tradition down your throat, and even then will still hate you and say you aren’t good enough to polish their boots. It’s been like this for centuries, and why? Because the Tribunal never changed. Unlike other pantheons in Tamriel which adapted with time naturally, the Tribunal never shifted. Did you see Vivec and Almalexia ever lift a finger to stop the slavery in their lands? To stop the random wars between Ashlanders and the Houses? Did Sotha Sil even bother to change anything from the outside world in his Clockwork City for the better?

The Nerevarine is the change Morrowind needed. They’re this one outsider who doesn’t care about what anyone wants to try to force on them, and despite all the hardships, they ascend to power above any of these garbage people. They bring down the Tribunal, and Morrowind is able too breathe. 

This is why Alamlexia is such a good villain. Because she doesn’t want this change. Male or female, any gender is capable to be corrupted by greed and power. That was her from the get go. Both Vivec and Sotha Sil expressed regret at killing Nerevar. They didn’t change their ways, but they expressed regret. Almalexia never looked back. She knew what she was doing and never regretted it. Now suddenly the temple is finally falling, and she’s loosing her power. Yeah, she isn’t going to let that happen. 

So it’s you, the Nerevarine, who is responsible for a possible change for the better in the atmosphere of Morrowind, verses Almalexia, the last of the Tribunal who will keep things structured in tradition out of sheer greed. She literally worked out every movement you took from the beginning of that DLC up to point you see Sil’s corpse and she confronts you. This badass had a perfect plan devised, and I quote from her directly,

 "Nerevarine. Here it ends. This Clockwork City was to be your death. You were to be my greatest martyr! The heroic Nerevarine, sacrificing all to protect Morrowind from the mad Sotha Sil. But you live! You live! Fear not. I will tell the tale myself when this is done. I will tell my people how with your dying breath you proclaimed your devotion to me, the one true god. Your death will end this prophecy and unite my people again under one god, one faith, one rule by my divine law. The puppet king will lay down his arms and bow to my will. Those who do not yield will be destroyed. The Mazed Band has allowed me to travel to this place. Here, I slew Sotha Sil. Here, I summoned the Fabricants to attack Mournhold. I will be the savior of my people! I alone will be their salvation! None may stand in my way. Not you, and certainly not Vivec. He is a poet, a fool. I will deal with him when I have finished with you. And Sotha Sil...he always thought himself our better, shunning us, locking himself in this hole. He spoke not a word as he died. Not a whisper. Even in death, he mocked me with his silence! But I think you will scream, mortal. For now, you face the one true god."

What a set up for a boss battle!  

That’s insanely engaging! 

Honestly, she reminds me of Mother Gothel from Tangled. Always gaslighting her people, always making them believe she does everything out of love for them, when in reality she does it all only for her own benefit. 

Don’t get me wrong, Vivec and Sotha Sil aren’t saints. Even though they admitted regret, they didn’t do anything about that. They didn’t speak up, step down, or give the power back they stole. Instead, they tried to go under the excuse “we must continue on like this, the people can’t handle the truth.” Yeah, very convenient guys. 

But Almalexia outshines them both as one of the greatest villains in TES history. 

To Sum Up

There are things that need to be changed in Morrowind. The cringe, edgelord writing about Divayth and his daughters for instance. But the struggle between Tradition vs Progression, and the majesty of Almalexia’s final encounter do not need to be changed.  

If you want female empowerment in TES, then please look to the real icons.  Khamira, the young queen who faced an impossible rebellion. 

Lyris, who doesn’t know how to express nor deal with her emotions, and who gets weird looks for her sheer size by everyone else but her fellow Nords, but she keeps swinging that axe regardless! 

Valsirenn, who, despite having to revisit the painful reality of losing her daughter, still sought after her ex if only to find closure, and though Iachesis’ death weighed on her heart, she bit the bullet and saw things through to the end. 

And those are only three jewels of a treasure chest full of gems, let me assure you. if I had any real criticism, I’d like for female heroes to have more flaws. Nobody is born perfect, and half of what makes the hero is their struggle but final victory in overcoming their flaws or complications. 

This is the last time I’m reacting to Almalexia material on my blog. 

I don’t want my blog filled with fandom discourse. Yes, I’ve blogged before about Greymoor disappointments, but to be fair I was reviewing a product I paid $50 bucks for, and some people paid even more for it! I’ve received hate anon due to the Almalexia topic already, and had my words taken out of context due to someone not reblogging my actual argument but screenshotting the tags and only posting those. People ramble in their tags on tumblr. That’s a common thing. And funny enough, the tags are meant to go along with the actual blog itself. 

Any Asks sent regarding Almalexia will be ignored. If you have an excessive problem with my opinion on her, just block me. 

Again, I want to state: If you love Almalexia, just love Almalexia. More power to you. 

Just don’t attack people with long essays about how your opinion is correct and they are sexist for not agreeing with you! 

[hpswl-cumbercookie]

Secret Boyfriends/Husbands Rec List

So my dears, I am finally going to fulfill my dream of starting doing rec lists. I would like to help fill the unfathomable void that has been left behind by @alexxphoenix42. Let me tell you, I have no idea how she did this job for so long, it’s harder than you’d think, but so much fun. Anyways, this is the first rec list of hopefully many, feel free to send me asks for fics/lists and I will put them together as quickly as my little hands possibly can. I dedicate this first list to @srebrnafh for her unending kindness, support, and overall general awesomeness, you are the greatest! And, by the way, I found the fic you were looking for!!! It’s the very first one on this list, I’m really glad I was able to find it.

You can see my search results here in case none of these are to your liking. If you would like to be tagged in future lists just let me know and if you want to find my lists search for the tag #cc rec list.

Missing in Action by Alphinss

Words: 7k Rating: Teen

Lestrade is worried about Sherlock. He hasn't seen the man in a week. What else is a man to do but break into the man's house under the pretence of a drugs bust. But who is the man that almost shoots one of his officers and why is he in Sherlock's flat?

A Long Time Coming by thestanceyg

Words: 5k Rating: Teen

Sherlock's been acting strangely, and Lestrade isn't sure why. One day he finds a shirtless soldier in Sherlock's flat and things start to make a lot more sense.

Capt John H Watson, MBBS by anthonyedwardstark

Words: 2k Rating: Gen

Sherlock has not been seen or heard from for more than a week. Lestrade decides to begin his search for the man at 221B Baker Street. When Scotland Yard's finest arrive at the flat, what (or rather who) they find is certain to surprise them.

Sherlock’s Who? By freakypet

Words: 4k Rating: Gen

John has been away for Sherlock's entire career and suddenly returns to London unexpectedly from Afghanistan. Injured and tired and in pain, all he wants is to surprise Sherlock and kiss his husband. His search to find and surprise his wayward partner takes him across London and meets him up with those in Sherlock's world he has only heard about until now.

A quickly written story that was meant to be my version of "Everyone Meet Sherlock's Secret Husband - Ha Ha In Your face" - but I got this instead.

The Bee Charmer by dreadpiratewatson

Words: 3k Rating: Mature

Greg goes to 221B to check up on Sherlock after a strange phone call pulls him away from an important case, and is stunned to find himself in front of a gun brandishing soldier with a sleeping Sherlock on his chest.

John Watson is a doctor, a war hero, a husband, and the only one in the world who can soften Sherlock's heart.

This Isn’t Happening by Emma_Locke

Words: 5k Rating: Teen

Greg never believed the rumors that Sherlock and John were shagging, not really. Sure, it was fun to tease and taunt his friends, but he knew their relationship was solely platonic. He had never seen any action to suggest more than that, so he continued to hold by that belief until proven otherwise. The last thing he expects is to inconveniently interrupt various impromptu make-out sessions between the pair, but is that really what’s happening? Neither Sherlock nor John ever say anything about it, and they seem thoroughly confused when he brings the topic up.

Is Greg Lestrade going crazy?

Are those two idiots setting him up?

Or does he just ship Johnlock harder than anyone thought?

Outed by a Drugs Bust by Inactive Account (sassybleu)

Words: 1.5k Rating: Mature

Their relationship status didn't leave the confinement of their flat, so when they got lazy days like this; Sherlock without a case, and John without work, they took full advantage of it.

Sherlock and John are together-but no one else knows that. The damage is done when Lestrade and his crew break in on a drugs bust.

I’ll Greet You With a Smile by sevvyboy1fangirl

Words: 2k Rating: Teen

When John comes home from the war, Sherlock is there to greet his husband at the airport. How will others react to the news of Sherlock having a husband? And how will John react to meeting those that are in his husbands life? And how will Sherlock and John's life continue now that John is home?

*NOTE- This story is incomplete but it ends in a mostly satisfying manner*

Illusory Correlation and Confirmation Bias by VanillaBroompolish

Words: 10k Rating: Gen

Looking back, there were a few things that should’ve tipped Greg off long before that night at the pub. A few things Sherlock left fairly obvious, that on reflection, made Greg question how he’d gotten his job in the first place.

The Blind and the Clueless by InTheShadows

Words: 3k Rating: Teen

When Greg first meets John Watson, he mentally wishes Sherlock the best. Lord knows that man needs someone who can keep up with him. When John keeps coming back, Greg is impressed. When they seem perfect for each other for each other, but neither of the blind idiots see it, well. Then Greg is less so.

aka 5 times Greg saw John was perfect for Sherlock but didn't say anything and one time he did.

How Single-Malt Made Them a Double (AKA Loose Lips Confirm Ships) by IrelandSpades and MyFirstistheFourth

Words: 4.5k Rating: Mature (Could make a case for explicit, read with care those who are sex-repulsed)

A holiday party, too much whiskey, and something is revealed when a soldier goes too far.

Behind Closed Doors by Mssmithlove

Words: 10k Rating: Explicit

An hour earlier, everything had been different. Sherlock Holmes' heart had not been in pieces on the tiled hallway floor of his secondary school, grey eyes blinking back the tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, knees shaking with the effort not to buckle and knock him to the ground on the first day of his last year here before university.

An hour earlier, Sherlock Holmes had been happy.

In Which Sherlock Is Hiding Something by Huffordle

Words: 2k Rating: Gen

Sherlock is hiding something from Greg although the DI doesn't notice.

A Surprise in 221B by lancesface

Words: 2k Rating: Gen

Lestrade entered the flat prepared to find a consulting detective sulking on the couch due to the lack of cases but instead found a short blond man, wearing an oatmeal jumper, who was limping down the hallway towards the door.

Alibis by JohnlockRelapse

Words: 7k Rating: Mature

Sherlock is away for the weekend, John indisposed. And Greg would never admit to himself how desperate he was for Sherlock’s help. A series of phone calls to concerned parties, and a frustrated Detective Inspector later, alibis would prove to never be enough.

The Most Noble of Bullies by emptycel

Words: 10k Rating: Mature

John Watson is abused at home and the biggest jerk at his school. He has no qualms about being as cruel to his classmates as his father is to him. No one is safe from his torment.

Except for Sherlock Holmes.

But you can't expect John to bully his secret boyfriend.

[peter-pantomime]

IT Fic Recs

Richie/Eddie

the years go by like days

It’s Eddie he wants to get a hold of, though, and he does, tucking him under his arm, and ruffling his hair, making him laugh. He’s startled when Eddie looks at him with such happy, shining eyes. And, for a split-second, he’s tempted to kiss him right then, right there in front of everyone.

He wants to. Badly. He doesn’t.

He leans in, instead, and he smacks a loud, wet kiss to Eddie’s cheek, punctuating it with a “mwah!” He does it again and again. “I’m so proud of my little Eds Spagheds!”

“Get off me!” Eddie says, laughing and shoving him away, swatting at his hands.

AU. in the 27 years in-between, Richie and Eddie forget a lot, but they don't forget each other.

just be still with me

Eddie Kaspbrak is 38, working as a driver in New York. Richie Tozier is a stand up comic who comes to New York on a one way ticket to audition for SNL, and his agent has hired Eddie as his driver. There's something familiar about Richie, though Eddie knows they've never met. While Richie insists on sitting in the front seat and making something more than small talk, Eddie struggles to maintain professional distance.

Basically - what if Eddie and Richie did forget, and didn't see each other for 25 years, but they fell in love anyways.

If You Believe

What if Eddie held on just a little bit longer? What if the losers figured out how to kill it just a little bit earlier? What if Eddie made it out of Neibolt, injured and barely holding on, but alive?

-

When Eddie emerges from the cavern to see Richie floating, he just about shits himself.

hit me baby one more time

Richie reaches up a shaking hand and puts it on Eddie’s stomach.

“Uhhh,” Eddie says. “Is this a bit? Is this a really inopportune bit? ‘Cause I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Richie, but this is kind of an important moment-”

“What the fuck,” Richie says, not for the first or last time, and lurches forwards to hug him.

(Or, Richie gets stuck in a time loop.)

in the morning

Beverly knows there’s something going on with Richie. The way he had lost it, the way he had cried—she’s not sure if he would ever cry like that for her, or Bill, or even Stan. He had always been particular about Eddie. She pets his hair back again and rests her head on top of his, sighing and closing her eyes. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s more than she thinks. Either way, she’s sure he’ll say eventually. Richie’s never been good at keeping secrets.

This Is the Way It Ends

An AU in which everything is the same, except Reddie disappear to have sex through most of the plot points and Eddie doesn't have to die to save the day.

Love Me Like You Do

“I need you hear you say it.”

“I want it,” Eddie says back. He’s surprised by his own words, how concrete they sound, how they break through the wall of nerves that’s shrouded over him.

Richie, in all of his confident-not-confidence, leans down and kisses Eddie. It’s gentle at first, the rough chap of his lips barely grazes Eddie’s over moisturized ones but the electricity rockets down his spine and bursts into tiny electrodes all over his body. He immediately leans up, chases Richie’s retreating form and captures him in a kiss that Eddie never knew he was capable of giving.

Men of Fall

Do you remember? He watches his own hand slide closer along the armrest. Do memories transfer by touch, in this fucked up magic town? Remember, Richie, please, and tell me I wasn’t imagining things.

put it all aside and hold me tight

"I'm not sad," he lies. He thinks of how his hands had trembled after he'd gotten the phone call from Mike, the foul taste of bourbon and breath mints and his own bile in his throat. Every morning he's alone, even when he isn't. He isn't afraid, except for when he is. And he isn't sad, not really, but he is.

Not that it's any of Eddie's business.

Eddie's gaze feels like it goes right through him. There's little Richie hates more than being read, especially when it's by Eddie — there's always a split second of bone-deep terror that whispers he knows. It's familiar, something that goes way back to childhood. Still just as shit-your-pants terrifying.

Or: After the reunion dinner from hell, Richie and Eddie have a long overdue conversation about, like, feelings and shit.

up off the floor

"In a world where we can kill a fucking clown from space, Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t get to die from a stab wound."

still it’s so

Beverly screamed when she saw them. Then she covered her mouth with her hands and just stared, tears standing bright in her eyes. Bill stood up so fast his armchair jumped back, and beside him Mike did the same. Ben got up slower, a painfully hopeful look on his face.

“Surprise!” Richie said. “We lived!”

Things that Happen after Eddie Lives

In a world where Richie manages to save Eddie from It after the deadlights, they still have problems on their to-do list. Featuring everything from Derry to Los Angeles—Richie Tozier's murder trial, Eddie Kaspbrak's divorce proceedings, bedsharing of the platonic and non-platonic varieties, an investigation of magic, a truly disgusting séance, the quintessential morosexual road trip, and OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES.

swallow your heart

When he’s 24, at least once per night, Richie has what he would describe as an erotic nightmare. He never actually has sex in these dreams, nor does he die or even get seriously maimed. But they’re still definitely erotic, and they’re definitely nightmares.

Prompt: "I swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth."

With a boulder on my shoulder

Feelin' kinda older.

Or, Eddie Kaspbrak has his fifteenth birthday party.

we’ve been migratory animals

As they reach the town limits, he sees the sign up ahead: You are now leaving Derry. A thrill shudders through him — they’re out. Things will be different now, no more deadlight-visions swallowing him up inside. Richie rolls down his window, and before anyone can do more than look at him quizzically, he unbuckles his seatbelt, lifts himself up out of his seat somewhat, and leans out the window to flip the sign off. “Fuck you!” he bellows. The wind whips his hair into his eyes, and he lets out a slightly manic laugh. Then he feels hands grabbing at his shirt, and Eddie is yanking him back into the car.

--

Or, the Losers take a road trip to Florida, and Richie's having nightmares from the deadlights that he can't seem to shake.

if the children don’t grow up

Richie Tozier dreams, sometimes, of heat soaking through the soles of his sneakers from the July tarmac in the town where he grew up, the name of which he can’t quite remember when he’s awake, and of someone small and warm and familiar pressed up against him everywhere.

(Some scenes from a life – Richie and Eddie at 40 and at 13 (and beyond) and at 40 again.)

Richie Tozier Versus The Flu

“His parents don’t take care of him,” Eddie had told Bill, shaking his head, “He’s probably holed up in his room with a flop sweat, and neither of his parents have ever been bothered to help him. We should go see him.”

“G-Go see him?” Bill asked, alarmed, “I d-don’t mind, b-b-but I thought you’d n-never -”

“He’s sick! Richie’s sick, Bill,” Eddie insisted, thinking Bill was not nearly as upset as he ought to be, “Richie’s sick, and no one’s gonna take care of him, if we don’t.”

last ones out

Richie wonders if it’s always been this hard for him to touch Eddie. It hasn’t; they were incredibly touchy as kids, falling all over each other, gangly limbs intertwined. Even as adults, a few days before, Richie had barely been able to keep his hands off of him. Eddie almost dying did something, though. Chipped away at something deep within Richie. From the bed, Eddie laughs.

Talk So Pretty (And Love So Sweet)

Eddie was going to kill him one day, in his lace and crop tops and knee high socks.

Let’s Hear It for the Boy

“Oh, before I forget- keep this one.”

He pulled a tape from his bag that he hadn’t played yet, and Eddie took it with a look of distrust on his face. It had his name scrawled across the label in Richie’s awful handwriting- looked more like it said Edota on it- but the thing that caught his attention was the very obviously scribbled out heart in front of his name.

“Welp,” He snapped his gum again. “I gotta go. See you later, babe. If you miss me when I’m gone, just listen to the tape. Plenty of gushy shit on there.”

June

He can’t handle being alone with Eddie anymore.

He squats next to Eddie, brings their faces close, and he looks at the freckles on Eddie’s cheeks, the familiar chestnut hair perfectly quaffed at his fringe, how long, and thick his eyelashes seem against his sunburnt cheeks.

He wants.

Desperately.

Blood Runs Cold

He wants to say the feeling in his gut is foreign, but the truth is it’s been flowering for years, vines twisting and growing in the pit of his stomach, just waiting for him to open his mouth so they can finally see the sun.

(or a short fic about Richie Coming out to Bevvie while they smoke in his room)

Show Me a Good Time

This wasn’t the first time that Richie had brought Eddie to one of his meetings. Meetings, used very loosely, meaning they were at a restaurant with however many Michelin stars, while his agent talked to him and whoever else decided to show up to the dinner. There were currently about eight of them, Eddie and Richie shoved into the corner of a booth, while someone told a story about their latest stent on tour. Lucky for Richie, the story actually happened to be good, because if not, well, they might have seen just how often Eddie was leaning over to whisper in his ear.

we’re f***ing killing it, babe

Richie has been back in Derry for three days and murdered an Eldritch horror-esque monster from space or possibly from some weird meta-verse, who knows, and faced both of his childhood fears of clowns and his own death, as well as the possibility of losing his first love just as he remembered they fucking existed, he’d like some slack cut for him on the emotional front, thank you!

OR

Eddie is dead, but the Losers carry him out of the house on Neibolt anyway. Which is good, because Eddie is not dead.

Roads

Richie pulls out of the Orient parking lot first, and stares at the headlights of Eddie’s car in his rearview mirror.

The drive back to The Derry Townhouse is short, scary, and not well lit.

“It’s just Eddie,” he tells his reflection, trying to give himself a pep talk, but that’s the problem.

It’s Eddie.

Lakes

Ben holds Bev’s hand as they walk. Richie feels sick with grief, staggering along behind them, carrying Eddie’s dead, heavy body on his back.

Intro // Skydiving

Eddie Kaspbrak is ten years old. It's his first time at the quarry with his friends.

--

The descent feels like it lasts both for a few seconds and for eternity. Free fall is terrifying, but his hand is still latched onto Richie's, and it tethers him, makes him feel like he isn't just lost in space.

soul, I hear you calling

He catches a glimpse of himself, bruise-eyed and unshaven, in the bathroom mirror as he turns to leave, and that's when he sees Eddie Kaspbrak.

"At least wash your hands, you nasty fuck," Eddie says.

"Holy fucking shit," Richie screams.

Eddie comes back, sort of.

[rey-of-luke]

I was tagged by @revolvingresidency to "answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to get to know better." Thank you so much!

Name: Hannah

Sign: Scorpio (Sun) / Libra (Moon) / Sagittarius (Rising)

Height: 5’5”

Time: 9:09 pm (now 9:38 pm at the time of posting)

Birthday: November 16

Favorite Bands/Artists: Too many, but all-time so far are Queen, Bastille, Florence + the Machine, Lord Huron, Hozier, many 70s/80s singers/bands, and more I’m forgetting atm. 

Last Movie: Uhhhhhh.... I saw some of Pretty Woman while it was on TV? 

Last Show: Teen Wolf

When I Created this Blog: Ooof, in the middle of a computer class in high school and *checks* looks like the first post I ever made or reblogged was in 2014 so I would have been... a freshman? I think? If I graduated in 2017... yeah, I’d be either a freshman or a sophomore when I created this. Holy shit, I’ve been here for like 8 years. No wonder I don’t have time for half of this site’s bullshit anymore, haha.

What I Post: I have no clue, tbh. Whatever. Mostly fandom stuff, sharing my shitty fanvids, mostly just reblogging stuff. Maybe the occasional fic rec or shitty edit.

Last Thing I Googled: PNG’s for my terrible OC x Dead By Daylight crossover graphic on my oc sideblog.

Other Blogs: my OC sideblog @reyofluke-ocs and I kind of want to bring my Rey Skywalker RP blog back but honestly tumblr rp is still scary as hell but tbh I barely have time for my hobbies as it is but if I do (or you’re just curious) it’s @scavengerxjedi

Do I Get Asks: No, but I always appreciate any I do get!

Following: 378

Average Hours of Sleep: 6-7. More if I don’t have work or my internship. l

Instruments: Haven’t touched my clarinet in. oof, a long time. I wasn’t that good at it and mostly faked my way through marching band because I could never memorize the entire show for the life of me except random parts (which was always a problem because my high school band was so small there was like only 3 or 4 of us that played clarinet total).

What I’m Wearing: Jean shorts and an oversized yellow t-shirt that advertises the Great Smokey Mountains on it. 

Dream Job: International human rights advocacy, maybe with the United Nations or UNICEF. Just bringing awareness and helping how I can where human rights are being overlooked or where people need a voice. But as long as I get to be a social worker and help people I’ll be happy. I would also like to maybe write on the side - maybe actually write and self-publish my original story involving various supernatural creatures in a secret Department of Social Services setting.

Dream Trip: IRELAND. Or Europe, but specifically Ireland has always been a dream of mine.

Nationality: American (specifically Southeastern part of the United States)

Favorite Songs: Hmmm.... most things by Bastille, Lord Huron, Florence + the Machine. Also without a doubt, ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ by Queen because my dad and I always jam out to it when it comes on (much to my mom’s annoyance because neither my dad nor I can carry a tune to save our life).

Last Book I Read: Currently, I am reading The Invisible Life of Addie Rue by V.E. Schwab and I love it!!!! Just finished A Shadow in the Ember by Jennifer Amoundant yesterday and I liked it (but kind of want to punch Nyktos because for someone that can ‘read emotions’ he sure as hell seems intent on believing all of Sera’s are ‘lies’ like dude I know she betrayed your trust but holy shit can’t you tell when emotions are genuine??????) *cough* ahem, nevermind my little rant. 

3 Fictional Universes to Live In: So many. All of them. I’ll probably go with my all-time comfort universes: Star Wars, Harry Potter, Inheritance Cycle, or X-Men. I know Harry Potter is conterversial but those books were my childhood, along with the Inheritance Cycle and Warriors and will always hold a special place in my heart even if JKR is a piece of shit. 

No pressure tags: @musicboxmemories, @eddiemunscns, @arrthurpendragon, @elmunson @taladurith, anyone else who wants to.

[softhaos]

SQUARE ONE

pairing – lee jihoon x reader  genre – fluff + humor + romance + demon!au description – he should be helping you take over the world but does the exact opposite instead. alternatively, he’s internally cringing at your evil plans and should get over it as fast as possible but decides to prolong his company, even if it ends up with even more cringing and banging heads against the wall. warning – includes my usual borderline crack stuff, this time in the form of aspiring villain!reader as tragic + petty as dr. doofenschmirtz and jihoon being the male counterpart of vanessa song rec – turtle | twice word count – 1,911 words author’s note – i swear the fic isn’t as much of a crack fest as the summary makes it out to be

When you presented your aim of world domination to him, Jihoon didn’t need to listen to your proposal twice to say yes.

He regrets it.

Jihoon doesn’t know himself what went through him when he sealed the contract with you. All he knows is that he was rash and dumb and not in his right mind at that time. Usually, he takes his time, weighs his options and ponders whether it’s worth it assisting the petty person who summoned him. Even though you were just one out of many petty humans who wanted a deal with a demon, it only took Jihoon those two simple words, world domination,  to make up his mind on a whim.

Before you, Jihoon had to keep up with blatantly idiotic teenagers who thought summoning wasn’t possible and middle-aged single people who wished for the downfall of their neighbor who happened to live a glorious life. What they wanted to achieve was quite saddening; saddening in a sense that they really needed to rely on somebody else to commit the deed. From causing their snobby classmate to end up in a scandal to vandalizing the rich neighbor’s mansion, everything was mere child’s play for Jihoon. Though it was his job to cause a ruckus on Earth, he wanted to wreak much greater havoc than just shaving off someone’s ex-girlfriend’s hair. If he could, he would’ve done something by himself, but there was this one tiny, ridiculous thing that prevented him from doing so: demons are only able to assist people, not execute the plan with their own hands.

Jihoon was so done with the childish and belittling goals he had to do; sometimes he had to do the same petty thing even more than once. So naturally, when you made him appear in front of your eyes and desperately raved about wanting to take over the world, Jihoon didn’t bat an eyelash with his immediate agreement. You even had proof showing that you tried overthrowing the world by yourself. (Those were some inventions that didn’t seem too miserable but backfired when you switched them on.)

After a few days of somewhat getting a grasp of you, he utmostly regrets his decision.

Though your plans sound like music to his ears, you surely aren’t. Because you don’t have what it takes to be an evil mastermind. Okay, Jihoon admits, your ideas are actually brilliant, but that’s just it. You don’t have the skills to be villain nor do you have the personality to be a proper one. Sometimes, Jihoon wonders whether your parents dropped you when you were an infant or else because wow, Jihoon has never thought he’d ever meet a person as clumsy and idiotic as you. Your type of idiotic is on a whole different level than the idiots Jihoon has ever met. Somehow, you always manage to get the most obvious and easiest things done in the wrong way and your mishaps on the dumbest motions make Jihoon want to return back to hell (or at least, make him bang his head against the wall and it hurts).

What physically pains him the most is how much sooner you would’ve fulfilled your world domination plan if it weren’t for your mishaps while tweaking on your inventions. Much to Jihoon’s dismay, you had to mess up during the most critical tasks even though the critical tasks were easy to do. The routine once you completed building the prototype of your newest invention goes like this: Jihoon figures out why it doesn’t work yet (assuming you didn’t switch it on and the machine didn’t blow up), tells you the faults and how to fix it (he would do it himself but sadly, he’s a demon and can only give you instructions) and then you do the exact opposite of what Jihoon tells you to do.

And lastly, the prototype explodes and Jihoon saves your ass before he a) screams at you, b) tries to contain his frustration and cringe it off or c) bangs his head against the wall.

It stings his non-beating heart even more when he figures the root of your mistake.

“I told you to cut off the red wire, y/n, not the black one!”

“I know! But the red and the black one were so close to each other I accidentally cut off the wrong one! It- hey, I’m not done yet. Jihoon, where are you going?!”

Another prime example, and frankly, probably the moment that takes the cake is the time you mixed up left and right: “What was so hard to get under left and not right? I said left a dozen times!”

“Well… I thought you meant the other left!”

“There is only one left, you dimwit! Besides, I even drew you a picture so you wouldn’t make this mistake and- how in the world did you manage to place the instructions upside down, y/n? The words are upside down the way you read this!”

Honestly, it’s a miracle that your house hasn’t broken down yet for some unfathomable reason and Jihoon doesn’t complain about that. Nonetheless, it doesn’t help his unease. The fact that you add the suffix ‘-inator’ to a random word to name the creation certainly doesn’t help either.

With time, he still winces at your fatal mistakes, still cringes and goes through an internal debate and still bangs his head against the wall when things don’t run smoothly, which is basically every single day. But when he cools down, he suddenly isn’t too affected by it and though he sighs because wow, another day of cleaning up the mess hooray, there lies an undertone of amusement in those things.

He finds himself rolling his eyes at you in a playful manner when you whine around and indirectly apologize for ruining your own invention and therefore, also postponing your ultimate goal of world domination as well as prolonging Jihoon’s attachment to you as your demon assistant. He lets out a snort whenever you refer to your machines as ‘lazer-inator’, ‘fogblast-inator’ and various other inators due to the stupidity of those names, but also because it was hilarious and softening and bewitching seeing your eyes glimmer with expectation and hope.

Long story short: You don’t physically ache him as much as before (because Jihoon refuses to admit that he is in the process of becoming a lovesick demon crushing on a wannabe villain).

Much to his dismay – he’s pretty sure some angel or so is responsible for this – you started learning how to get things right. It worried him when he saw you the first time spending all night reading a pile of books and digging out old sketches to pinpoint the errors in them. His distress shouldn’t be justified, Jihoon knows, but he doesn’t want it to happen yet. He’s selfish, sure he is, he’s a demon after all, but causing trouble should be more important than chasing after someone, or in his case, staying at someone’s side. Jihoon is glad there is no rule book for demons. Otherwise, things would’ve taken a bad turn long before.

But when he finds fewer mistakes in your prototypes, fewer complaints and whines coming from your mouth and fewer mentions of inators on a daily basis, he grows desperate.

Jihoon knows better than to prevent you from trying to rule the world, yet he still does it. The only reason he does it – aside from preventing the contract to expire because once you reach your goal, it’s a trip back to hell and a waiting game for Jihoon until another person strikes him up with their so-called evil masterplan – is that he knows it’s not really your life devotion. He's grasped enough of your personality to know that you’re not actually evil, that you don’t hold any serious grudge against the world and that in the end, you’re just another curious idiot who wants to see if the impossible is possible.

(The last part is only partly correct. You’re not just another curious idiot, you’re his curious idiot. An idiot nevertheless.)

Jihoon doesn’t know how you feel about him exactly. He often wonders if you like him just as much as he likes you or even more or sadly less. In any case, he certainly knows that contrary to your words, you don’t want to get rid of him as fast as possible. Otherwise, you wouldn’t cling to his sleeves whenever you are being a whiny annoyance even though he has expressed his bitterness or draw doodles of him as a stick figure on his corrected sketches. The latter doesn’t necessarily amuse him because you just ruined his corrections and your drawing skills equal to those of a toddler and Jihoon finds toddlers a pain. But he still acknowledges your attempts.

He has hoped the day would never come but it came: the day where there isn't a single flaw in your umpteenth prototype invention branded with the name ‘snow-in-summer-inator’. Being the demon he is, he purposefully adds a hefty mistake into the sketch and hands it back to you, hoping you’d just take it as it is.

“Jihoon, you sure this is wrong? I double and triple checked with all the other plans.” you look up from the sketch and shoot him a suspicious glance.

“Look, it’s either you believe me or not. If you’re oh-so-confident about your skills then go through with it. Just remember the countless other times where you thought you got it all right but turned out you weren’t.” Jihoon shrugs in response and pretends not to care. All he hopes for is that you are dense enough to buy his words.

To his luck, you are that dense. A part of Jihoon wants to make him sicker through the floor because how on Earth did you manage to win over his attention with that blunt naivety?

The rest follows the usual routine. You fix it up (this time, you tamper with it), switch it on, the block of metal makes a weird noise and Jihoon brings your ass away from the danger zone before it blows up.

Once the black smoke cleared up little by little, you swat his hands away and unlike the normal cycle, you’re the one who screams at him. “See? I was right, Jihoon! I! Was! Right! Hah- wait a sec mister, we aren’t finished yet! Hey, don’t you dare leave, you have to help me clean up your mistakes–”

It should frustrate Jihoon that you are back at the beginning, back at square one to the ultimate goal of world domination. After all, his purpose and passion are to wreak havoc and cause disorder in the world. But in a sense, he does cause turbulence in the world; not on Earth, but your little world makes the cut.

Long story short: World domination is all fun and such, but Jihoon prefers to simply cause you some chaos (because Jihoon is the type of guy who shows his affection by pissing his crush off).

[bixgirl1]

Five Books

Tagged by @julcheninredand @writcraft to list five books that made a deep impression on me at different points in my life. Not necessarily your top five favourite books ever, nor even books you’d recommend to someone else now, but five books that were important at the time, whether you loved them or hated them.

Thank you, guys! (Also, I hate this because I have like 70k books and it made me cry that I couldn’t pick all of them. *snort*)

Taking a cue from Writcraft and going into detail under the cut because it gets long. lol 

In no particular order:

1. Phantom – Susan Kay 2. Written on the Body – Jeanette Winterson 3. The Harry Potter series – JK Rowling 4. Firestarter – Stephen King 5. The Captive Prince series – C.S. Pacat

Honourable mentions (don’t huff at me, you guys asked me about books! Just be glad this list isn’t 200 deep lol):

Shopgirl – Steve Martin Bastard Out of Carolina – Dorothy Allison Second Nature, and Practical Magic –  Alice Hoffman The Stand, and Carrie – Stephen King Charlotte’s Web – E.B. White The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks – Rebecca Skloot

Notes on the top five below the cut:

1. Phantom, by Susan Kay

“She wanted an Angel of Music . . . an angel who would make her believe in herself at last. I'd been the Angel of Doom for the khanum. There was no reason in the world why I could not be the Angel of Music for Christine. I couldn't hope to be a man to her, I couldn't ever be a real, breathing, living man waking at her side and reaching out for her . . . But I could be her angel.”

This book. God, this book, guys. I’ve read most of the books on my list more times than I can count, but I may have read this one the most. Told from different perspectives (Erik, his mother, his mentor, his friend, Christine, and Raoul), it follows the story The Phantom of the Opera, from birth to postmortem. It shows humanity at its ugliest and most broken, and the heights it can achieve, and does it all surrounding this one brilliant, exceptional man who eventually descends into madness over his love for someone he knows he can’t have. But it’s a redemption story, too, and so bittersweet I can’t, to this day, read it without crying and feeling immensely satisfied. Erik is the perfect anti-hero — maligned at first for something he can’t help, and then later for what people have turned him into, but nearly always sympathized with, and loved by the reader. Until reading this book when I was, I think, twelve or thirteen, I didn’t know writers could do that, tbh.

 2. Written on the Body, by Jeanette Winterson

“When I say ‘I will be true to you’ I am drawing a quiet space beyond the reach of other desires.”

I cannot stress what an impact this book had on me. I first picked it up because I’d read a book of Winterson’s short stories (The World and Other Places) and I thought she had a really cool style and wanted to read more. She lived up to her short stories in style, of course, but what really blew me away about WntB — what really stole my heart and made me think — was that she wrote it in such a way that you never know if the narrator is male or female. I was around sixteen when I first read this, and still heavily involved in the church, and struggling with being attracted to girls as well as boys, and when I read this, the narrator was wholly female to me. I was reading lesbian love affair. I was stirred by it. When I think about the things that have influenced my coming to terms with my bisexuality, with me accepting who I was (though it took me longer to accept that it was okay to be who I was), this book is definitely on that list.

It’s also gorgeous, like everything she writes, so there’s that.

 3. The Harry Potter Series, by JK Rowling

“Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hands, staring down at his enemy's shell.”

 I feel like this one doesn’t really need much explanation behind it. Lol. But I will say that I came into the HP series a few books in, around the time the first movie came out, and I was in an odd place in my life at the time. I was…listless. I’d always been a big reader, but it had been a long while since something had so captured my attention and focus, or had riveted me with its world building in such a way. I fell in absolute love with Harry, with the surrounding characters, with the social and moral parallels drawn. I kept asking myself “this is a kids series?!” There are things, in retrospect, that one can criticise about the Harry Potter series, plenty of valid problems to discuss and deconstruct. But I will never not be loyal to it, for its creativity, for its surprising depth, and for its heart.

 4. Firestarter, by Stephen King

“It was amazing how time got by, how quickly a child could change, change in front of your eyes with an unobtrusiveness that was nearly terrible.”

Many apologies to @julcheninred because I know this one was on your list too, but Firestarter meant so much to me as a kid. I dove into King’s depiction of Charlie, and the simplicity of the writing and plot blended with the complexity of the characters and their relationships. I loved the idea of a young girl with so much power — frightening and potentially deadly, but hers. And though I was too young, when I first fell in love with this book, to understand the (actually pretty overt lol) sexual metaphors, I didn’t need to. It’s not a book that requires you to figure everything out while you’re on the ride — it’s a book that makes you want to, even if that means reading it a hundred times and wearing out several copies. (Which, ahem, I may have done.)

 5. The Captive Prince series, by C.S. Pacat

“He thought of Laurent's delicate, needling talk that froze into icy rebuff if Damen pushed at it, but if he didn't--if he matched himself to its subtle pulses and undercurrents--continued, sweetly deepening, until he could only wonder if he knew, if they both knew, what they were doing.” (Book Two: Prince’s Gambit)

Okay, I know I blog a lot about this series and as a drarry shipper/writer/blogger, it’s easy to assume my reasons. And to be fair, drarry is what initially attracted me to the series. It was first recced to me by @magpiefngrl, then by @l0vegl0wsinthedark and @o0o-chibaken-o0o (thank you guys!!!!!!!) and finally I was so wound up about by them that I checked Amazon for a sample. Upon reading it, I immediately ordered copies, then read all three books online while I waited for the books to be shipped, they’re that good.

And I found it’s not about the similarities to drarry. (There are a few, but only in the most basic of ways.) It’s about the writing, which is so beautifully taut, I genuinely doubt I’ve read anything like it before. It’s about the characters, who are sharp and perfect in their imperfections, and dialogue and tension and subtly intricate plotting that thrills me anew every time I read it. It’s about a love story that feels fantastical and wildly relatable, a happily ever after that you need — and get, like a stunningly wrapped gift you never expected. The way Pacat manages to pivot an arguably hated and hate-worthy character into someone you would give your life for reads like a dream, and I’m not exaggerating when I say these books changed things in me. Maybe all small — an appreciation for simplicity in writing; a jadedness that seems to surface sometimes about my ability to immerse myself in a story — but all fundamental, and all appreciated to my bones.

Idk who’s been tagged so my apologies in advance, but @jadepresley  , @lqtraintracks, @camael-fanart, @femmequixotic, @noeeon, @o0o-chibaken-o0o @agentmoppet and anyone else who wants to partake!  <3

[coeurdastronaute]

Giant Ch. 19

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

The entire museum was alive despite being after hours. Gowns and lights and all manner befitting a Luthor party existed there amidst the flashing camera lights outside and the stars above. It was a dream of a dream, a fragment of a wish a child would make when they wore their mother’s heels and tried to be a princess. The night gracefully nodded at itself in the mirror and enjoyed itself.

The gala was alive, lingering outside despite the mild heat. The lights glowed from the roof, glowed from the poles and trees in the courtyard of the museum. Summer hummed just above the quartet, and Kara soaked up the evening, hoping that a new season would mean a new her. Lena soaked in Kara like she was the sun.

They were good at those things. Good at the parties and the music and the small talk. Lena was polished, while Kara was sweet. Lena would just smile while her girlfriend recalled birthdays and children’s ballet recitals, asking all the questions she could from people she thought as strangers. No one was a stranger to Kara for long. People actually enjoyed seeing the two, enjoyed talking with the relaxed Luthor and her adorable girlfriend. It was a new feeling, one she couldn’t remember feeling since she was a kid and her mother dragged her to all of those things and people liked them.

It was a difficult event, and despite her best efforts to not be a Luthor, Lena could never get rid of the memory of her mother, nor could she find enough hate in her heart to push away any kind of chance to help. And so, on the anniversary of her mother’s birthday, a day that was once filled with balloons and her favorite dinner and handmade and painted wobbly art projects as gifts, Lena filled the museum with people and money and she donated enough to find a cure or at least try. That was how one honored the dead, in her opinion.

“You look amazing, did you know that?” Kara grinned as she kissed her girlfriend’s temple. “Spectacular. I’d say this is my favorite dress you’ve ever worn.”

“You’ve said that every time we have to go to one of these things.”

“I love you in sweats that you refuse to update and my old shirts, but this is a close second.”

“Is that your unbiased opinion, Kara Danvers, CatCo reporter?” Lena shook her head and tugged her along the line of cameras toward the entrance.

“It is,” she nodded. “In my professionally unbiased opinion, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Amidst the crowds and the people calling their names to look at cameras on the line, neither noticed much else, trapped in their own little world and utterly happy about it. Lena squeezed Kara’s hip as they took another step.

At no point in their decade long dance would she have imagined moments like that were possible. At no point, when she was sneaking glances at the girl who smiled during movies and actually would start breathing faster during tense parts, would she imagine one day holding her hand at an event. Lena never had a second to fathom the idea of dressing up and wanting to go to something like that. Nor could she venture the idea of planning it. Nor could she have allowed herself to imagine being that happy. Seventeen year old Lena would have told present Lena to fuck off with her description of the future. She’d never believe that the nerdy reporter with big glasses and a penchant for tripping over her own feet would be the woman of her dreams.

Instead of thinking of it, Lena looked to the cameras while Kara absolutely beamed. It was amazing to feel how easy happiness was attained near someone like that.

“If only the nerdy Kara from senior year physics class could hear you now.”

“She would have said the exact same thing if she’d been just an inch more brave,” the reporter promised.

Quietly, Kara watched Lena answer questions, her excitement about the event evident. And she felt her hand squeezed slightly.

Once, when she was in college, Kara visited Lena, and she remembered looking at her, really looking at her. And she wasn’t perfect, she never claimed to be, but Kara was absolutely in love with the things Lena complained about from time to time. Her nose had a bump in it. Her eyes were wide. Her lips were too small. The little scar between her eyebrows that was barely noticeable. All the pieces people missed, Kara was obsessed with, and she looked at Lena with the same kind of ferocious wonder, once more reaching that epiphany of utter satisfaction.

“I’m very proud of you, Lee,” Kara promised as they made their way into the museum, time and space and history repeating once more for them.

“Oh, stop,” she brushed it off.

“No, I mean it. I’m always just…” she furrowed and paused because she had words. Her job was words. Someone who crafted them so often should be better with them.

“You’re sweet.”

“Wait. I mean. Just. Lena I’m so darn proud to know you. I don’t think I tell you that enough. I’m in awe of you. I’m bursting at the gills proud of who you’ve always been and what you’ve become. Sometimes I don’t think saying I love you encompasses that. But I’m so proud of you. I’m honored that you pick me. I’m… I am in awe of you constantly.”

“I could say the same for you,” Lena smiled sweetly.

Kara held her hips and let Lena lean her forehead against her own. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, savoring it. Lena just basked in the sunshine in the deep dark night of August. She trailed her fingertips along Kara’s long neck, and she smiled to herself, her chest aflame, as if she were crafted of sparklers.

“Sometimes, I’m not sure who I’m supposed to be, but I know, beyond all else, that I am supposed to be here with you.”

“You’re too sweet tonight.”

“I’ve been known to dabble.”

“You’re the sun to me.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Thank you for coming with me tonight. My mom is probably very amused that we’re here together.”

The moment was there, atop the steps with all eyes on them and not, at the same time. But it broke. They opened their own and exhaled and were alive in the real world.

“I liked her a lot.”

“What do you think she’d say about all of… you know?”

“She’d probably insult Lionel’s tie and say something sassy about the notion of it.”

“Yeah,” Lena smiled to herself.

“Ms. Luthor, Ms. Danvers,” Jess interrupted the thoughts brewing, and for once, Kara was grateful for the intrusions.

“You look amazing, Jess,” Kara smiled, hugging her tightly.

“Oh, no, this is just… I mean… It’s okay, but you two…”

“You did an amazing job, Jess,” Lena assured her. “I’d say that promotion was well worth it.”

“That was still too generous.”

“You’re capable, and I couldn’t think of a better CFO.”

“My two little business ladies,” Kara beamed putting her arms around both of their shoulders. “I’m just so happy.”

The museum was alive. There had been a small, very different celebration earlier in the day in which Lena quietly went to the cemetery and put down her mother’s favorite flowers. She didn’t like to go there often. In fact, she actively avoided it. But today was different.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that flowers were already sitting there, or that her father somehow slipped into the private space despite the vigilant surveillance. He had a knack for the dramatic.

But Lena didn’t let it bother her. She couldn’t. Because when she got back to the apartment, her girlfriend didn’t try to make her feel better by being loud and happy, but rather she just allowed her to curl up with her on the chaise on the balcony, setting down her book and losing her space.

Lena was someone Kara lost her place in a book for, and sometimes, to some people, that was a lot.

The day was bittersweet in the truest way.

But all at once, Lena was filled with the deepest melancholy and the most overwhelming kind of love. And it wasn’t just for her girlfriend. But as they spent the night among friends, Lena saw her little family, her new people, and she was inundated with happiness that did not mitigate her ache, nor did it stifle her pain, but rather existed at the same time, in harmony with it.

She had Jess, and she had Maggie, and she had Winn, and she had Jack, and she had Sharon and her rec league, and she had Sabine and her wisdom, and she had people. Good, honest, genuine people. It wasn’t many, but it was enough. More than enough.

There were speeches and there were auctions as they sailed toward their goal for the evening. This was just a drop in the bucket for the donations and charity work Lena did throughout the year. Kara could never understand why people didn’t recognize it more.

From the bar as she waited for drinks, Kara watched Lena hug someone, and she sighed a contented sigh at her night, at her life.

“When you first told me you had a crush on her, I thought you were insane,” Clarke smiled and adjusted his glasses beside his cousin.

“I thought so too,” she returned his smile and handed him another drink.

“If she’s your family, she’s my family.”

“Thank you.”

“Did Alex talk to you about what they think he’s planning?”

Kara took a drink and wished it were stronger. Though her smile faltered, it couldn’t be taken away by the likes of Lionel Luthor.

Instead, she just watched Lena from across the room and she couldn’t help but feel a little familiar ache of that high school reporter yearning after the prettiest girl in the world. That was never far away from her.

“I thought you were in town for the event,” she muttered. “Lena invited you because you’re my family. My only blood family, and you’re important to me.”

“I came for that,” he assured her. “I just… I have a feeling.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Do you want to do a lap?”

“I thought you were retired,” Kara ventured.

“Believe me, I am. Just, trust me. I know how they work.”

Kara eyed her cousin. What he did weighed so heavily upon him that he couldn’t trust himself. As much as she reassured him, as much as she wanted to help, there was no true retiring from their life, and she saw the burden playing out through him. It was terrifying.

Gone were the sturdy, steady eyes. Gone was that lilt to his chin that defied injustice. Left in his wake was  Clarke that was unsure and wounded and so very mortal.

“Yeah. Let me go tell Lena.”

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded. “Meet you in a few by the Greek stuff. I have to go ask Lois.”

With a nod, Kara put on the smile again and brought her girlfriend another drink, hoping that two super guts were wrong.

“No one gets hurt if the Supers come out to answer for what they’ve done.”

The voice, though amplified over a speaker, was familiar. The crackle of it, the deep baritone waft in it, the emotionless hint beneath an apathetic front. Lena knew the voice, though she barely recognized it. She didn’t want to know it, but it haunted her more than most.

The crowds screamed and were herded toward the courtyard and Lena stood taller and walked against the crowd toward the giant metal suits and henchmen that surrounded them, crashing the expensive party and the memory of her mother forever.

Her party disintegrated with long shrieks and the yelling of people as they attempted to flee. All around her, everyone looked for safety, and where they sought it, they were met with only a more ferocious kind of violence in the form of her father’s henchmen. Lena was the rock in the middle of the river of terrified bodies as they broke around her and she just stared ahead.

“Everyone who worships their false idols will pay for it tonight.”

He must have something, Lena decided. She couldn’t find his face amidst the chaos, but she heard his voice, and she knew the cockiness of success. Her first thought was that tonight would be the last night she saw Kara. And the second was that she hadn’t told her how beautiful she was in too long. Those thoughts made her so sad, Lena felt empty. Until the third thought of somehow protecting Kara wormed its way, full of hope, to the top of the pile.

There were aliens like they had not seen in too long, the drugged, deranged kind, the same kind that Superman once belonged to, the same kind that were pawns in her father’s sick revenge. She saw people attacked. She heard sirens, and still, she approached the largest suit of all.

The gun rounded and pointed toward her before the suit even started to turn around.

“Dad!” She flexed her jaw and stood her ground, eyebrow twitching from the power she needed to draw to brave the storm.

As soon as it fired, she felt herself tackled, in a way.

“Just stay down,” Kara yelped as she arched her back and took the impending stream of bullets.

Lena felt her girlfriend’s body shaking with the impact, she heard her grunt with the weight of the high caliber and modified weaponry.

“You have to get out of here,” Lena told her, clutching her shirt, gripping the emblem in her fists as tight as she could, even when the barrage stopped.

“I think you should, actually,” Kara grunted.

“Not the Super I was looking for, but you’ll do just fi--” a loud clang erupted as Kara’s cousin swung into the game, tossing one machine at the leader.

“Get these people out of here, the back through the kitchen,” Kara said as she held Lena’s shoulders, making her focus despite the debris and dust kicked up by the battle that was tearing apart the museum and street outside. “Don’t go home. Go to Alex’s. She’ll know how to keep you safe.”

Dumb and mute, Lena stared back and gaped slightly because she was just putting on a fundraiser and now she was confronted with a manifestation of her literal daddy issues. Sometimes, Lena remembered that bumbling reporter who snapped a pencil the first minute they met. That was another lifetime, but ever since that, they had always been a team, and there had never been just Lena, or just Kara.

“You can do this. Get them out. Get to Alex’s,” Kara repeated, eyes boring into her girlfriend’s.

The museum would be in shambles, the proud columns outside in the street, the modernist facade that was a violent affront to design was smashed, and just a cage devoid of glass, the party was a gathering of screaming people who just wanted to survive the rabid aliens and monster metal machines that created a new chaos.

“You come home, too,” Lena finally said, though it wasn’t enough. She had so many more words.

“I lov--”

A yank of her cape sent Kara hurdling backwards and into a wall, and left Lena starting at nothing in particular until she fought against her gut and heart, and began to do what Kara asked.

Three years ago, Lena bought a water tower. She told Kara that she was selling the home in Midvale, but she couldn’t do that, and so when she returned and walked the halls for a full three days, she bought the water tower because it was a good place. Her home in Midvale was a good place too. Kara fought Lena on selling it because there was still a doubt there, and she never trusted Lena to not be impetuous.

Kara bought Lena a necklace on her birthday a few months before the gala. It was a thin silver chain and a little constellation, with a diamond in the place of where Krypton would have been. It wasn’t a water tower, but it was something good and important.

The fight with Lionel was unyielding. Kara struggled against the rogue agents and the machine, but when when she saw a necklace on the ground, she felt fear more than the pain inflicted against her person.

It came in waves, the attacks. Lionel’s planned attack against the Supers was effective. A reformed and more intelligent serum made the aliens stronger, made it harder to hurt them without hurting them.

And then there were the machines. The goons. It was a fight, and Kara couldn’t win, and she made herself not think about Lena. That took up a lot of her power.

It was a losing fight though.

Tossed across the street once again, with the edge of a weapon made of high-grade Kryptonite slicing across her chest and arm and abdomen, Kara could barely see straight.

“The mighty house of El brought to their knees by mere mortals,” Lionel growled and gloated as the monster’s metal feet stomped closer. “It ends now. The revenge is finished with this.”

Unable to stand up, Kara tried anyway, her hands pushing weakly against her own knee though she didn’t go anywhere. Vision blurry, she blinked and spit at the ground, her wounds leaving her bones aching. All she could make out was a shield of a body standing in front of her, obscuring Lionel’s hateful smirk.

“Lena--”

From out of the rubble, from out of the mess of the night, a figure emerged and hurried to inject themselves into the struggle.

The rest of the party was gone, saved and led to freedom despite the impending battles. Lena couldn’t leave though, not even with her promise. She climbed through the rubble, she tore her dress and she cut up her legs as she squeezed through crashed cars and the broken museum debris.

When she saw Kara, bloody and battered and almost attacked again, she raced out, not even thinking for a moment at all about what Kara told her to do.

The gun came from the body of a dead guard in the street, half buried under the remnants of the display of presidential portraits. She didn’t think she even knew how to use one, but she held it up to protect the woman she loved.

“You can’t,” Lena stood between her father and the wounded hero. She clenched her fists and tried to look as brave as Kara did when she stood up to giant monsters and evil men. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

“Move aside, Lena,” Lionel leveled the gun again, the barrel pointed at his daughter. “This doesn’t involve you.”

“Mom would be so ashamed of what you’ve become,” she shook her head and raised the gun in her hands back at him.

Tears were streaming down her face, her muscles all ached, and the inevitable bruises and cuts formed. Her dress torn, her face covered in dirt, she looked like she played the entire game straight through, with no breaks. She looked like a survivor.

It’d been years since she’d seen him in the flesh, but somehow, standing there, was as if he was a stranger. She sure as hell didn’t know him. Not anymore.

“Lena, please,” Kara begged, gritting her teeth through the pain. Her hand held at the large gash in her side, her own blood seeping out despite herself. Between her words, she coughed and gurgled and spit. “Don’t hurt her!” she called to her enemy, thought it never reached that far.

As much as she struggled, her muscles had nothing left in them. Kara fought against gravity, normally a much easier war, but she was grounded, she was doubled over and couldn’t stop bowing under the pressure of simply existing. From her knees, she tried to reach out, to push herself up and walk, but nothing worked, not with the Kryptonite in her system. Never had she felt so fragile, so human.

“It’s going to be okay, Supergirl,” the CEO promised, not moving her eyes from her father’s. He was a stranger to her now thought. She wasn’t sure what to call him.

“Move, Lena!” He bellowed, his anger infecting the words violently. “I won’t ask again.”

“Don’t make me do this,” Lena shook her head and sniffled. She felt a few tears drip off of her cheek. Tracks formed through the dirt on her face like river beds after a flood. “Please don’t make me do this!”

“You’d betray your family for that-- that-- that thing?”

“She’s my family,” she disagreed. “My only family died. The rest left me. She’s never stopped choosing to love me.”

“Lena! Go! Don’t do this!” Kara yelped, trying to stand and failing miserably. Her cape hung heavy on her shoulders, weighed her down until she was on her knees, crawling forward with her wounds making her lightheaded. But she had to fight, and she had to save Lena. That made her press on despite all manner of injury.

“You  bring shame to the name Luthor,” the father shook his head.

“The name gets power when you give power to the name,” she repeated his famous words. “I have done more for that damn name than any other before me. But it dies with you. It dies with Lex. I don’t want it anymore.”

“Lena, princess,” he swallowed and softened slightly. He didn’t understand how that idea could hurt him so much when the threat was supposed to get his daughter back in line. “You can’t--”

“Just drop it. Just walk away. Just go to jail and let me forget you,” she begged, hating the name, hating the memories that came with that voice. “Please. If you ever loved me, you would just stop.”

“I can’t do that, Lena. It is for your own good. It is for the future of this world!” He straightened, swallowing away that softness that felt so distant, as if it were from a memory of a movie he once saw, but never lived.

“Put it down!” Lena yelled.

“Move, or I will kill you!” he screamed.

She gripped the gun harder, she took a deep breath. Both began yelling at the other, and all Kara could do was watch as she felt the world spin and her consciousness begin to fade. Never before had she fought so hard to stay awake. Never before had she felt so powerless than effectively watching her girlfriend with a gun trained on her.

“Lena!” Kara tried to call her, but she knew her voice was only a whisper. Her throat was dry. Her body was weak.

Gravity was heavy. Living was painful. Loving was exhausting.

“Please, Daddy,” Lena begged, lip trembling as she heard Kara’s call for her.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he smiled slightly, his face easing as he took aim again toward the hero, hoping to find a shot around his daughter, though he knew it was impossible.

“NO!” his daughter screamed before pulling the trigger, causing him to stagger backward a few steps.

Another shot rang out, and he dropped the weapon and fell to his knees. Lena pulled the trigger again until he fell to his side, writhing. She screamed the entire time until there were no more bullets, until she threw the gun on the ground and rushed to his side. The past decade rushed off of her shoulders, dropped to the ground in a deluge.

“I’m so sorry,” she kept muttering through sobs. “I’m so sorry.  You made me. You made me choose.”

“You were always,” he coughed and coughed and coughed. “The best thing. And now look at you--”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You’re just…” he closed his eyes before trying to lift his hand. He coughed again, only to open and look at his knuckle against Lena’s cheek. Lionel smiled as he felt the softness of her skin beneath the sheen of tears. “Just like my Lily.”

“I’m so sorry,” she held his hand, kissed his knuckles, inhaled that smell beneath the dirt and grime.

It wasn’t as much an apology for pulling the trigger, and they both knew it. It was an apology for everything that led to this, it was for everything he thought her to be, it was for everything she knew him to be.

“Don’t be sad,” Lionel closed his eyes once again. “You were never meant to be a Luth-- a Lutho--”

Sputtering noises came. Lena heard the police and DEO descend and she couldn’t move as the hand went limp and the noises stopped.

Despite herself, Lena sobbed. She didn’t know she was capable of such noises or sounds, but the entire battle left her defenseless and exhausted. She ran her hand along the stubble of his cheek like she once did when she was a child and he came home late from work. She ran her fingers over his eyelids, shutting them for a final time.

He was right; he freed her.

She was never meant to be a Luthor. It wasn’t malicious, it was a gift. The last gift that he could ever give her.

With a final look at his lifeless body, Lena stood before sprinting toward Kara, more afraid of what waited her there.

“Superman rounded up the aliens. He’s transporting them to-- Supergirl!” Alex shouted, noticing the body on the ground under the cape as Lena tried to turn it over. “Secure the area and start processing survivors. Get a damn med team here!”

“She’ll be fine, right?” Lena asked. “She was shot with Kryptonite before, and she lived.”

The agent didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Instead, she did her best to triage while the Luthor ran her palm along her girlfriend’s lifeless cheek and pushed the dirty hair from her face before kissing her through tears and swallowed wails of bone-breaking pain in her soul.