#she was also the one who defeated him initially when they tried to fuck over the Digital World lmao

[galehowl]

in the darkest night, guiding stars

Some rambling about Tailmon's and Caedemon's complicated relationship in Aurora below~

Tailmon and Caedemon are two of some of the oldest Digimon aligned with both their own and mankind in Aurora, and their relationship goes far back to the very genesis of the Digital World.

As Huanglongmon's creations and members of the Archangels, both of them served them and the four Great Beasts as guardians of their world, alongside the other eight of their kind. For thousands of years, they were the guiding light for all the other Digimon to look up to, until Lucemon's betrayal, and the other six Archangels siding with him. Having discovered what would later become known as the Dark Area - an eldritch, mysterious and volatile dimension existing apart from the Digital and human worlds, yet intertwined with them - he chose to keep it secret, and, in time, his own desires, made worse by the influence of the Area, made him turn against his world and creators. The six others that succumbed to it all the same chose to follow their leader, and nearly laid waste to the Digital World by breaching the dimensional walls and unleashing the Area upon it, but were ultimately stopped by the remaining three Archangels, the world's inhabitants, and Huanglongmon's ultimate sacrifice to seal the Dark Area away, along with the traitors.

Ophanimon perished in those battles, but was reborn in the far future, though without memories of her past.

It was the actions of mankind that called her to action once more, and what awakened Caedemon from his eternal slumber deep within the Dark Area. It was when humans, upon discovering its existence, breached it in an attempt to take control of its powers and Caedemon himself - and sealed the fate of both worlds.

Caedemon, like his brethren, was never meant to be awakened, and Tailmon was mortified upon eventually figuring out the identity of the decaying beast. In her eyes, rightfully, not only was he a traitor, but also even alone a serious danger to both worlds, having become part of the Dark Area itself, but he was also absolutely not fit to be a Tamer's Digimon, especially to a child.

Caedemon initially also did little to soothe her concerns, even with her disdain and suspicions for him obvious, as he exhibited a selfish, troubled and nihilistic personality, caring little for their own kind, and consistently questioning whether or not humanity is even worth saving, with all they've learned about it - a big contrast to her more optimistic outlook on things, a love for all living beings, and a desire to seek out good in everyone, even to the detriment of herself and others.

Though they do eventually mend their once broken friendship, it takes a long time for things to get better, and a lot of change ( namely for Caedemon ) for them to find a way to complement each other in working together - two beings plucked from past long gone - to guide both worlds into a better future.

[alpydk]

Red on You - (The last part) "Map of the Problematique"

GalexRugan ZhentWeave Shenanigans

Final chapter finally done after a month of it haunting my thoughts and dreams. Can they defeat the evil zombie horde and have a happily ever after? (Of course they can!)

Ao3 Link

“Fucking wizards! You can’t just cheat and steal like the rest of us!”

Darnys slid down the banister, shouting with unrestrained crossbow bolts flying towards the undead that burst through the door. The body of Lissa was being dragged further away and despite the risk, orders needed to be followed: get the amulet back.

Gale yelled after her, trying to strategize how best to position everyone now that the initial plan had been disrupted. Advance forward as she was or retreat to a safer location where they could have the home advantage? “What are you doing?”

“Following through with the plan.”

“This is so fucking stupid,” Rugan muttered, his eyes pinned on the surrounding living who, without hesitation, were following the amulet into an almost certain death.

Darnys smirked, a successful shot taking out a shambling corpse. “And we’ll all be so fucking dead if we don’t do this.”

---

“Macte virtute!” Andora didn’t hesitate in casting as she watched the party push through the broken-down doors of the academy, her hands glowing the subtle golden as her words erupted from her. She knew there was not much she could offer when compared to the abilities of a professor of Blackstaff or the paladins of Tyr, but to stand by and let them sacrifice themselves went against everything she’d ever known of herself. She would fight, and there was always a chance she would die, but such was Ilmater’s will.

Astarion stood before her, his daggers lunging at anything that came too close. He’d considered vanishing around the perimeter, using his slight and nimble frame to get into the crowd unseen and grab the amulet, but seeing the pale face of Andora, her eyes wide and instinct taking over, he’d chosen to protect her over the bigger picture of saving them all. Tav, you bitch. You see what you’ve done to me?

Alchemist’s fire burst onto the cold cobbles of the academy’s courtyard, undead charred against the flames and falling to the ground, their crooked movements halted. “Careful where you tread!” Rugan continued to throw the chemical flasks into the crowd, trying to block out the memories of the ashen walls of the caves. The scent of sulphur singed at his nostrils, the scarring on his abdomen taut as he pressed forward. Just as he had so long ago, he had to survive, though this time, with something worth surviving for at the end.

Gale threw out orders, the lanceboard pieces now set in place. “Astarion, you and Andora proceed around the northern side. Darnys and Rugan, we require you to be at a higher advantage-”

“I’m not abandoning you!” Rugan was quick to object, not only being separated from the one he’d finally got back to, but also being paired with one whom a year ago had tried to kill him.

“I know you’re not! But we need the high ground to avoid getting flanked! Leonidis and I will continue to press forward to Lissa.”

Andora nodded in acknowledgement, grabbing Astarion’s arm and pulling him towards the bricks of the courtyard wall around the crowd of undead. Despite their spells, the horde seemed to keep coming, Lissa’s body pulled deeper and deeper into the endless seas of blood and rot.

“Stay behind me, darling.” He was quick to react to her touch, pulling himself in between her and the enemy, his dagger poised at the ready. Turning heads caught his attention, eyes as reddened as his own filled with an endless hunger. “I must be insane...” he mumbled under his breath. If his heart could have beat, he knew it would have been trying to claw its way from his chest, just as he had tried from Cazador’s prisons.

“Perure!” A beam of fractured sapphire split through the crowd, bodies falling and separating into ash as the night breeze caught them. Gale’s fingers held the static of the lightning bolt, another spell at the ready to create the opening. Lissa had reached her target, the skeletal corpse of Tib’s still chanting its incessant drone. “Leonidas! There!”

Through the already merging march, a glimpse could be seen of the disjointed figure of Lissa, tendrils of blackened shadow twisting and contorting her limbs under and around her until she was unrecognisable. A piercing cackle of laughter echoed around the grounds, a gargled scream of pain joining the cacophony of moans and agony that sat in the air. The ground shook beneath them, an icy wind filling the air. Undead toppled to the floor, clawing the stones as they fought the pull of darkness. The scream rose higher; the party holding themselves back in anticipation of what was to come.

“By the gods...” Gale let out a whisper of a breath as the shadows smothered the bodies before them, consuming them in an endless night. He’d read of such spells during his time, but they had all been ones of ancient legend, stories used to scare wizards from a life of necromancy and lich-dom. Circling his mind for answers, he went over the various tomes. Necromantic Codexes, The Necromancy of Thay, The Immortal Pendant. It had always been a myth, an item the stories were based on making them more interesting, but to be real. It couldn’t be possible. Now he knew, though, it was no myth.

Leonidas stood at the forefront, his sword bloodstained, blonde hair swept back with sweat and grime. “Gale? Any ideas?”

Before them rose the pustules and veins of a monster, bodies entwined and merged as one entity. Faces groaned from appendages, eyes lifeless. Rot and sinew dripped from the arched curve of a backbone, bending up and causing the creature to tower over the impromptu party. A gaping maw sat in the centre, the amulet pulsing, wisps of onyx escaping from the void. “Where Horrodissomoth failed, I have succeeded.” What was once Lissa’s feminine tone was now a gargling orchestra of each mouth moving as one. Slow-moving limbs were dragged across the floor, an ooze of pus left in its wake as it moved forward with only one intention: to consume.

Astarion shook his head, the sight nauseating, the odour causing bile to rise in his throat. He’d thought fighting a floating brain had been an experience, now a gigantic pile of corpses talking and moving as one was something else. “Well, I suppose it’s only one target than the hundred-”

“Get down!” Andora was quick to shove him aside as a swinging appendage came barrelling through the air in their direction. She felt her ribs crack under the pressure with the impact, her back hitting the grey brick of the courtyard wall behind her. The breath in her lungs caught, a copper taste in her mouth mixed with saliva. Darkness was falling over her as the creeping warmth of spilled blood spread behind her head. She could see Astarion before her, shock lining his features, a disbelief in his voice at what was occurring. Ilmater, please... protect him.

The steel sword came down with a thud upon the creature’s limb. It writhed and twisted, blackened blood leaking from the wound, as its movements slowed. Leonidas took a defensive stance, his sword held in front of him, his teeth gritted in righteous anger. “No choice. Gotta take it down,” he shouted. Gone were the options of simply retrieving the amulet or negotiating with Lissa.

“For fuck’s sake!” Darnys watched from an upper wall as her crossbow bolt imbedded itself in the rotting eye of what she believed was the monster’s arm. “And how do you suggest that, Lee!? Just lop its head off? In case you’ve not noticed, it doesn’t have a fucking head!”

Rugan was quick to respond, his rough accent harsh and impatient as another flask was flung over his shoulder. “Typical bloody Zhent. Can’t do anything unless someone’s giving you an order. Think for yourself, woman!”

“I wasn’t asking you!”

“Darnys, is this what I told you to do?” Friol stood nearby on the wall. She’d been observing the movements of the crowd, sticking to the shadows and waiting for the right opportunity to arise. As the group had pushed forward, she’d considered waiting until the battle was over, but with the events unfolding as they were, she knew she had to do something. “Get that amulet! If you must shoot every eye on that thing, then do it!”

Leonidas glanced around, confused, the introduction of a gnome another detail he didn’t want to take into account. “Friend of yours?” he questioned Gale, seeing the pink stream of missiles fly towards the enemy.

“Not entirely. But the enemy of my enemy is my friend, as the old saying goes.”

The group grew together as one, the archers, Rugan and Darnys still on the walls, now accompanied with Friol. Leonidas and Gale took the front line, an impenetrable force field set up over them as protection. Astarion knelt by Andora’s side, trying to keep her conscious but hearing the beat of her heart slowing.

A whisper left his pale lips. “Stay with me, love.”

“Astar-” A wet cough left her, the trickle of scarlet blood dripping down her chin, caught by his softened touch. “Don’t worry about me. Help them.”

He took her hand, feeling it almost as cold as his own. Her sunlight was dimming, her breaths crackling. He was losing her. He wanted to speak, tell her it would be okay, tell her he would save her and protect her, but this was not his first meeting with death. The platitudes were simply that: empty words for his own comfort, something he didn’t deserve.

“Ilmater will protect me...”

“Arde!” The fireball burst through the air, the moan of a hundred corpses as one, telling them that some damage had been done. “Astarion! We need everyone right now. I’ll keep her safe behind me.”

There was a reluctance to move away from her, an uncertainty that lingered in the undead heart. “I’ll come back to you.”

Icy lips were placed on Andora’s brow, her eyes growing heavy. “Love you...” she whispered.

A limb swung through the air, a squelching as the beast moved towards them. They prepared themselves, each taking a stand, ready to fight, ready to die if they had to. The nights had been long, sleep and actual food had escaped most of them and they were exhausted, but they were the last to stand against defeating it. Arrows flew. Spells bombarded the enemy. The sword came down heavily upon each tendril that reached towards them. Each bit of damage was dealt with one purpose: to kill.

As the battle wore on, they each felt their bodies grow heavy with fatigue. Gale’s spells were dwindling, the flasks of alchemist’s fire were gone entirely, arrows were now limited, and each one of them was being pushed back towards the academy in an unwelcome retreat.

“We can’t win... can we?” Rugan spoke up, the cave around him growing in darkness, Olly’s corpse now one he saw before him.

“Ira et dolor.” A fizzling at Gale’s fingertips as the spell failed confirmed what was asked. It was hopeless, fate sealed, the noose tightened around each one of their necks.

---

Andora. My child. Why do you cry?

Because it hurts.

Such is life. But watch over them. As we cry, they do smile. Each tear we shed is a star in the night sky, guiding them.

But I don’t want to leave him.

You would sacrifice yourself to save him, though. You would leave him if it meant his happiness. Your tears for his stars. Your sunlight for his darkness.

I... Yes.

Today is the first day in what’s left of your life... so live it well.

---

Andora’s eyes flicked open; a golden sheen of light basked over her body. No longer did she feel the pain in her bones, taste the harsh metals lingering on her lips. There was only strength, only the words of her god whispering in her ears as she rose from the ground. Her white robes blew in the wind as power coursed through her veins. Each sacrifice, each gift given in his name, now paid back in full to save the one she loved. Crystalline tears bled down her pale cheeks. Blonde hair shone like the sun.

A commanding voice boomed forth from her, a blinding white light shooting from her fingertips directly at the target. She could see every outcome, every future and past as one. The suffering of the realms weighed on her shoulders, and each prayer echoed in her mind. Please... Ilmater... Oh, crying God of ours... This was her fate. Every path had led to this one moment. This was her ultimate sacrifice.

“Andora!” Astarion’s voice cried out over the screams of the monster’s victims, each inch of the bloodied form moaning out as one as they were torn piece by piece and vanished into nothingness. He could see her, arm outstretched, the power behind those innocent eyes.

The wailing died down; the monster finally defeated. All were left in shock at the sight before them, the cleric of Ilmater shining in the moonlight, streaked tears lining her cheeks as the strength quickly left her body. She collapsed to the ground, exhaustion taking over, a sleep like no other taking her. Ilmater... Thank you...

---

Rugan sat on the balcony of the tower in Waterdeep, a cold pint held in his hand resting on his chest, his head back and eyes closed. He could hear the lapping waves in the distant, the gulls on the docks ever impatient for the sailors. In the last six months, Waterdeep had become as it was before the events of the army of the undead. The population had increased with those who weren’t afraid to live in a city controlled by magic, so long as the prices were good, and the academy had started a new year as planned. There had been an extensive investigation into the attack, and precautions were placed regarding who was hired within the academy in the future.

 The Zhentarim of Waterdeep consisted of none but Friol and Darnys, though both were ambitious enough to keep the foothold going, despite their superiors keeping a watchful eye over them. They’d sold the now defunct amulet for a tidy amount, and it was enough to recruit a few into their ranks. Rugan almost felt sorry for them, in a way. Maybe if things were different, they could have escaped like he had.

Leonidas had returned to his girlfriend, Clarissa, sending only the odd letter of how he was enjoying lazy evenings playing bingo and thinking of an early retirement to build a family while he had the chance. There’d been something in the notes about some adventures saving an officials daughter, and how the heavy armour had to be ditched for flexibility with the new combat styles a monk had been training him in, but Rugan had taken little notice as the words had been read out over morning kaeth.

A creaking came from the main door as Gale stepped foot into the tower. He’d continued at the academy teaching, telling tales of the nights of the living dead and the battle for Waterdeep, how they had been saved by the god Ilmater himself. There had also been days agonising over flower arrangements and invites for the upcoming wedding and though he’d tried to remain calm about it, his perfectionist nature had crept through on many an occasion.

Rugan gave a long stretch, opening his eyes and peering over as Gale approached.

“You look comfortable, my dear. Hard day?”

A smirk rose on weathered cheeks. “Just the usual, tidying up your books.”

Gale sat down, glad to be home once again after a long day. He nestled his head onto Rugan’s chest, listening through the cotton shirt for the calming heartbeat. “Sounds like torture.”

A warm kiss was placed into the chestnut hair. “Worth it for you.”

“Any news from your partner in crime?” Gale asked, his eyes closing as he relaxed into his partner’s embrace.

“Hm. He’ll make it. Said something about trying to tear his other half away from some refugees or something, but he’ll be there.”

“Astarion helping refugees. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Rugan chuckled, his fingertips stroking down the side of Gale’s arm, the intentions clear. “Love changes a man.”

Lifting his head, Gale gazed into the pale eyes. Love certainly changed a man. He’d changed when he met Tav. Rugan changed upon meeting him. Astarion changed upon meeting Andora, one he refused to be parted from after almost losing her once. Whether it was a form of destiny, no one could be sure, but love in itself was a type of magic more powerful than anything that could ever be wielded.

Tender hands stroked further up Gale’s arm; ale-tinged lips pressed softly against his own. Even when the world was in flames, they’d found each other. They’d changed each other for the better, completed each other. They were meant to be, no matter what the world threw at them.

[quinklequonkle]

I can't say this was the most wild dream I've ever had but it was up there alright!

I was in this room full of artists and those long tables and we were all given a word prompt which was "a mess." Some people drew a literal mess while others drew someone going through something. I decided I wanted to draw a stressed out office lady cause that's all that came to mind, but there was a problem.

I couldn't execute the art the way that I wanted to and that resulted in me being alone in that room as everyone got to leave. I just tried to focus on my art until I heard a very familiar voice and looked up to see...

Gatobob! And she was talking with Ykmet Ren. He did something to his tank and had to take it off and I remember him going: "hey! I look hot now." For some odd reason. I found it funny but I couldn't laugh or even move cause I couldn't believe my eyes. I could see him so clearly!

I was so frozen apparently that I didn't even notice he was at my side and he poked my arm with a new tank on his body, but I get something wet... His finger was bleeding like he pricked it on something.

I said: "Ren, that's not sanitaarrry. Gross!" And he just laughed while pulling his finger away. I told him we should get his finger cleaned up and we went in opposite directions to get the supplies. He looked for the alcohol and I looked for bandaids which I didn't find. He didn't either apparently because when I went into the bathroom, he wasn't anywhere to be seen even though I found the alcohol and bandages in there.

Suddenly I heard someone start yelling at Gato and asking: "Where is she?!" While also telling her to get out. Knowing who's voice that was, I rushed out but didn't expect her to be in Ren's face. I stood in front of him, feeling myself getting angrier at the fact that my sister burst in here wreaking havoc. I yelled back in her face and she started to crack the fuck up.

Her eyes got all crazy and wide and I don't remember exactly what she said but I knew I needed to get out of there. Where she was standing was a door with stairs leading down to our room that we stayed in and I knew straight ahead was the outside door!

I slammed the door shut in her face and jumped over almost all the stairs as I scrambled to run and get outside, but she was still on my tail and this time she had a gun. I have no clue why there were these long stair-like platforms outside but I had to run across at least three until I felt concrete.

There were these two ladies outside just walking around but one of them was ordered by my sister to shoot me cause I guess she got tired? Idk. There were also two police officers passing by as well so I had to ask for help.

Frantic and panting I go: "Please help me! Please! She's trying to shoot me!" Not knowing that the initial culprit gave her weapon to someone else. They shot all three of those women, even the one who was minding her own business because of the proximity! Conveniently, they fell out of my view (behind one of those stair platforms) but I felt so terrible. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

I didn't even realized I was turned around for so long until I felt a presence that wasn't there before, Ren was standing on the platform in front of the women's bodies. He gave me a look as if to say: "I shouldn't have went through this." I walked up to him fully defeated and ready to cry it out, burying my head in the wrinkle of his tank while shaking and sobbing. Like a great guy, he wrapped his arms around me and let me drench his shirt in tears. Even though I didn't look up the perspective panned up to his face and the last thing I saw was a stern look and glowing eyes.

So yeah! That's the dream :^)

[oohnotvery]

Throwing Good After Bad (Chapter 13)

Mulder

When Mulder wakes, the first thing he notices is the sound. Rain—riotous, thundering, unrelenting—battering the ceilings and windows of wherever-the-fuck-he-is. Pressing past an advancing headache, he quickly takes stock of his other senses. He has the vague notion that he is lying on something uncomfortable—like a hardwood floor—and that he is bound at his wrists and ankles by an itchy, scratchy rope.

He blinks his eyes open and immediately slams them shut again as bright overhead lights flood his vision. Swearing fiercely, he shoves himself to sitting before trying that again. The next time he opens his eyes, he’s prepared for the blinding assault and doesn’t shy away from the brightness.

He scans the room quickly, immediately placing himself inside the lodge. Beside him lies Lydia, who is starting to come to as well. A little past her sits Joe, who flashes him a look he can’t quite decipher. Is that fear or anger? And right beside Joe sits Scully, who is wearing a murderously outraged expression. Mulder locks eyes with her, once again relieved to see that she is alive.

“Everyone okay?” he asks roughly, and everyone nods.

Thunder unfurls from the sky and the building’s windows rattle.  

He’s about to try to scoot over to Scully when a set of interior doors opens and a stream of people pour in. Mulder initially tries to count them but quickly loses track. This must be the entire community, here to watch them . . . die? Jules and Harlan enter behind the procession, faces tight and expressions grim.

Evan is mysteriously absent.

Without fanfare, Harlan walks up to Scully and drags her from her place on the floor to the center of the room. Mulder lurches forward in protest and Scully puts up a good fight herself, but when Jules cocks a shotgun and points it at her head, they both go still.

Harlan turns to face the captivated crowd, raising his hands worshipfully towards the heavens. These people may think he’s some sort of righteous hippie guru, but all Mulder sees is a chilling cult leader.   

“Two children, dead,” Harlan announces to his followers. “Two children. My grandchildren. Never, not in the many years we’ve lived on this island have we suffered a tragedy like this before. And it’s made us—your community leaders—reflect. It’s made us think. In fact, it’s made us rethink some of our choices, our traditions.” He pauses dramatically. “Are the gods angry? Angry we continue to sacrifice our own people for their goodwill? Angry we’re martyring our ownprecious, perfect citizens?”

The crowd starts to murmur appreciatively. Heads nod supportively.  

“You may have noticed that we’ve had visitors from the outside world this week,” he continues. “You may have also noticed that no one has yet been selected for this month’s blood sacrifice. So what would it mean if we gave the gods outsiders, instead of our own? What if we pleased the gods in new ways, ways that didn’t sacrifice our own resources, our own community members?”

His eyes turn expectantly towards the four of them tied up and Mulder hangs his head, closing his eyes in defeat. Did he really not see this coming?

Harlan continues, his voice taking on a pious, almost holy quality. “With this in mind, Jules and I gladly invited the four outsiders into our community. Although guests sometimes do frequent the island, we usually stay more guarded, less involved in their affairs. We do not, for example, welcome them into our dining halls or our homes.”

“Gee, thanks,” Mulder mumbles, earning him a sharp look from Jules.

Unbothered, Harlan keeps speaking. “It didn’t take long for us to determine that Danielle was the most obvious choice for our blood sacrifice.”

Mulder’s head snaps up. He tries to meet Scully’s eyes, but she sits stone-still, unmoving, unblinking. She is a statue, not a person.

“Over my dead body—” he starts to protest on her behalf, but Jules shakes the shotgun threateningly and he shuts up.   

Harlan’s hand moves to hover over Scully’s hair, which looks aflame in the bright fluorescent lights. “Danielle is beautiful, more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever seen step foot on this island. We have been greatly, greatly blessed by her presence. She will please the gods immensely.”

More murmurs of approval from the crowd.

“So, she will be this moon’s primary sacrifice,” Harlan adds before taking a deep breath. His eyes flit around the room expectantly and the crowd goes quiet in anticipation. “But last month’s tragedy deserves more than just one blood sacrifice. Two died. So two must be sacrificed.”

At that, the crowd starts to rumble again, everyone casting nervous glances this way and that. Who will be chosen next?

“Not to worry, my friends.” Harlan smiles beatifically at his followers. “We have decided we will send the gods someone that Danielle holds near and dear.” There is a long, terrible pause, where the whole room seems to hold its breath. Mulder’s heart begins to beat erratically.

Harlan beams. “Jack?”

Joe’s mouth falls open in disbelief and he immediately starts shaking his head. “No, no, no,” he mumbles darkly, “no, I can’t do that. I can’t do that—”

“I’ll do it,” Mulder interrupts desperately. If they take Scully away to sacrifice her, he needs to be by her side. “I’ll do it. Sacrifice me with her!”

Shaken out of her stupor, Scully shoots him a dark warning look but everyone else in the room—tingling with excitement���just ignores his pleas.

“Please, choose me,” Mulder begs, even as Joe continues to shake and stammer and blab away why he shouldn’t be the other blood sacrifice.

Harlan walks purposefully over to Joe and places his hands on his shoulders. Mouth seeming to froth with angry spittle, Joe knocks Harlan away, shoving at him roughly with his bound hands. In truth, Harlan is no match for six-foot-three Joe and all his FBI-trained muscles, even restrained like he is.

“You can’t kill me,” Joe cries angrily, desperation roaring out of him. “You can’t kill me!”

And then to everyone’s astonishment, Joe points his bound hands at Mulder. “You’re choosing the wrong guy! I’m not her husband. He is. He’s her—her—her partner! Not me, him! It wouldn’t—it wouldn’t serve the gods to kill me!”

A look of genuine surprise passes over the faces of the community leaders. Scully’s eyes flicker to his own and a wordless conversation passes between them. What the hell is happening?

Joe continues, interrupting Mulder’s thoughts. “Do you know who we really are?” he asks Harlan. “Did you really not figure it out, with all the bumbling, idiotic shit these two have been doing since we landed on this godforsaken island?” He shakes his bound hands pointedly between Mulder and Scully. “Danielle—whose real name is Dana—is not my wife!” he insists furiously. “She’s an FBI agent. We all are! We were sent here to investigate you, and—”

“And if you hurt us,” Scully interrupts, her voice full of conviction despite the gun pointed at her temple, “don’t think for a second that the feds won’t come down here and arrest every single one of you. They’ll destroy this community. They’ll throw the book at you, you bastards!”

Joe’s eyes flicker to Scully’s, as if surprised she’s making his point for him. He nods in agreement. “We’ve radioed our director and he’s sending in a squad as we speak.”

Mulder feels a whisper of relief knowing that Joe and Scully have also made an attempt to get Kersh’s attention. Scully nods at him in confirmation. That’s my girl.

It takes more than a moment for the look of shock to pass from Harlan’s face, but Jules doesn’t even seem to flinch at the news. “Sending in a squad?” she mocks. “In this weather?” She looks pointedly out the window where the storm continues to rage. “I’m sorry to say no one’s coming for you, folks.”

Terror passes over Joe’s face and Mulder watches as he descends from anger into madness. “Leave me the hell out of this,” Joe warns shakily, nodding towards Scully again. “These two are the ones who’ve been sneaking around and spying on you after hours.” He meets Mulder’s eyes. “You think I didn’t notice you? Yeah, not only did I notice your stupid antics, but I told Kersh. Do you even know that Lydia and I were specifically assigned to keep track of your dumbass behavior? We were told don’t interfere, let them make the choices they will. But fuck, was it hard not to just grab you by the throat and strangle you myself every time you disappeared into the jungle at night. Every night that you two snuck off, Lydia came over and begged me to go set you straight, Mulder. But Kersh said let them do their thing. See if they disobey my direct orders to not interfere. And now look what you’ve done. We’re about to be made into a human pig roast because of you and your incessant meddling!”

“Stop, Joe,” Lydia interjects, her voice surprisingly hard, “don’t point the finger at Mulder!” Mulder is so shocked by her loyalty that he almost thanks her. “They were clearly going to sacrifice one of us regardless of whether we were snooping or not!”

“And like hell it’s going to be me, Lydia,” Joe snarls angrily. He swerves to face Harlan and Jules. “Cause you know what more? I saw Dana and this guy Mulder fucking on the beach a few nights ago.” His eyes dart back to Mulder’s, and he feels the blood drain from his face. He risks a glance at Scully. “Yeah, and don’t think Kersh doesn’t know about that too.”

Scully’s eyes widen in horror, and for a brief moment, Mulder wonders what terrifies her more: Kersh thinking they’re romantically involved, or being sacrificed by a blood-lusting cult.

Joe struggles to his feet, the ropes pulling at his ankles. He flings his bound hands once more towards Mulder. “Kill this one first, if you have to kill anyone. He absolutely deserves it.”

“Joe,” Lydia pleads again, “don’t. They’re nice people—”

“I don’t give a shit about how nice they are—”

“Enough!” shouts Harlan, snatching the shotgun from Jules. He points it straight at Joe and Mulder is relieved it’s not aimed at Scully anymore. “Sit down and shut up, all of you.”

The room falls deathly silent as Harlan seems to take a moment to think. Eventually, his eyes rise and flit to Mulder’s face.

“You’re her actual husband, then?” he asks, his brow furrowing.

“Husband, lover, friends-with-benefits, what the fuck does it matter?” Joe shouts, and someone starts to wrestle him to the floor.

Mulder looks beyond Harlan to Scully, his heart pounding through his chest. Even at a distance, he can see the despair gathering in her eyes. We’re in this together, he tries to tell her. I’m not leaving your side. What happens to you, happens to me.

“I am,” Mulder nods evenly. “I’m her actual husband.”

Jules nods affirmatively, stepping in front of her husband to guide Mulder to his feet. “It’s settled then. We will prepare the sacrificial bath.”

[pollenallergie]

Please can you write something with croquette!reader x eddie 🥺

Hey! So, initially, I wasn’t going to fulfill this request because I’ve heard that the coquette aesthetic has some problematic origins (infantilization and the lolita complex, mostly). However, I really like the idea of embracing your femininity (as someone who adores hyper-feminine aesthetics), so I figured I would try my hand at writing this but without explicitly making the reader coquette… If that makes sense?? Instead, I went for more of a general, soft, hyper-feminine aesthetic. I also tried to balance it out by giving the reader a more mature personality; she’s a bit shy and coy but not helpless or innocent. I hope this works for you!!

As always, you must be 18+ to interact with this post!!

To anyone else, you might seem like this delicate, demure flower. Between the pretty, lightly colored dresses you wear and the dainty gold jewelry you’re constantly adorned in, you appear to be this heavenly, angelic creature. Not to mention, the sort of shy politeness you bring to just about every social interaction might suggest that you’re just this radiant orb of positivity, this delightful ray of sunshine plucked from the sky and sent down to bless mere mortals with your sweet compliments and graceful gaiety. However, Eddie knows that you’re so much more than that.

Other people may think of you as this shy little dove, all coy and sweet, but Eddie knows you. He knows that behind those wide, dewy eyes rages a passionate fire. He knows that those smooth, glossy lips are for more than just sweet-talking; he’s seen them utter words so fearsome that they’d make even the most hard-headed man admit defeat, and he’s watched you, felt you commit the kind of sins with them that would make even the most devout cleric stray from his religion. Eddie also knows that, despite your meek demeanor, you can be brazen when you want to be; that’s actually how you drew him to you in the first place.

Eddie had sat behind you in U.S. History during his second senior year, and though he’d always believed you were pretty, always admired the way you smelled like lavender and vanilla even after your morning gym class, he’d never thought much of you. However, that all changed one fall morning when, during your class’s discussion of the fight for women’s suffrage, Eddie witnessed you launch a meticulous, dare he say glorious, diatribe against Tommy Hagan after the idiot had the nerve to say that women’s suffrage “sure caused men a lot of suffering.” From that moment on, Eddie swore you were the most beautiful, magnificent person he’d ever encountered.

A little over a year and a half into your relationship, he still swears that you’re some divine creature sent down from the heavens above. To everyone else, you might seem like a mild-mannered darling, the epitome of beauty, humility, and purity. However, Eddie knows you’re not some meek little lamb, content to follow everyone else’s lead, too unsure of yourself to make a fuss. Instead, you’re a woman; equipped with sharp wit, a healthy sense of self-worth, a passionate heart, and the litigation skills to get just about anything you want. You may be a bit coy from time to time, you may be introverted, and you may dress like an angel walking amongst men, but you’re nothing short of a fucking goddess; a divine seductress, a clever scholar, a fierce advocate of justice, and a kind, courageous leader all wrapped up into one. Most of all, you’re the woman of Eddie Munson’s dreams.

[jewishrizahawkeye]

hello! welcome back to my FMA Characters as Taylor Swift albums!!! previous albums are here:

debut, fearless (taylor’s version), speak now (taylor’s version), RED (taylor’s version), 1989 (taylor’s version)

now, let’s talk about the old taylor- oh no, she can’t come to the phone right now. why? oh… CAUSE SHES DEAD:

𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

Edward Elric

- time for THE comeback album bitches

- taylor has described this album as her most metal album (she was going through it and LYING), but while i disagree with that regard i still think there is something to that idea. taylor initially described it as finding love in the darkest of times, which is true. the album focuses more on the idea and fears of a relationship based on past loves and her world as a whole. and while that relationship is no longer happening, the message of the album still holds true.

- "my world is uninhabitable for most, no one can stay. but you're staying?"

- there is though, still a hint of venom or anger at times in the album. mainly towards the media or certain people who tried to destroy her career by lying through there teeth and putting her through years of media abuse, BUT WERE NOT HERE FOR THAT RANT BY KELLY SO ILL SHUT UP, but it's also anger towards her circumstances about the life she had chosen and didn't fully realize what she was getting into

- as when she signed on to be a country singer at 16 being a celebrity was a very different experience and meaning than our current idea of it as social media was no where near as prevalent

- it's those ideas why i think reputation is ed.

- ed is someone who made a decision years ago and is now forever facing the consequences and blaming himself not only for it but all the aftershocks it's caused in the beobles he's loves lives

- and here's to my real friends, they don't care about the HE SAID SHE SAID! and here's to my baaaaaaby, HE AINT READING WHAT THEY CALL ME LATELY! and here's to my mammmmma, HAD TO LISTEN TO ALL THIS DRAMA! *the other shoe drops*

- that's not even metaphorical SHE ACTUALLY THROWS A SHOE ON THE GROUND AT THAT POINT. LIKE SHE IS EMPHASIZING HOW THE STRAIN IT PUT ON HER AND HER FAMILY + WHILE HER MOTHER WAS DEALING WITH HER CANCER WAS ONE OF THE FINAL STRAWS FOR HER!!!!!!)

- i'm sorry, i'm not, i just fucking love this song

- and though the people in his life don't blame him, as neither do the ones in taylor's that we can tell through her songs, he knows he doesn't make it easier to know it be around him. (even before he discovers the conspiracy). he is angry and upset about what has happened to him but also knows that he got himself into this situation. so while he doesn't necessarily fight it he is annoyed by it.

- he also feels very indebted to making things right and is going out of his way to help and save everyone which is a lot for anyone to take on ESPECIALLY at his young age, which is something that has been seen in taylor's past albums and echos of defeat in this one

- i think in general edward deserves a LWYMMD moment as only hot people get those and ed's been through enough shit in life he deserves it.

- also the love songs on this album feel very shocked and surprised, blushing and unable to speak. which is how we often see ed reacting to winry (cause he's 14 and has a crush on a girl ohhhhhhhhhhhh).

- they're unsure and exciting, the narrator doesn't know how to deal with it. it goes from being excited to being upset and confused to admitting guilt over situations but also not regretting it as it freed them.

- the love songs are all about finding a love that's new and exciting a real. not just the idea of love to go off of but a real love between two people. which is what edwin can be seen with as childhood friends to lovers. as both are almost blindsided by their feelings and even propose to each other in the most awkward way imaginable and both get flustered.

[firendgold]

okay @kazuza-art I’m back on a separate post because tumblr apparently has a fucking character limit for text posts. trust my rage.

last time we covered why for me personally gr*ndeld*re has more holes in it than swiss cheese. now we’ll cover why I think time travel harrydore is superior and respects both characters.

                                                               🗲

harrydore

the tl;dr of the below is the following sentences: I don't believe in 'opposites attract' at all, but I do believe that your partner should be similar and different enough from you to keep the relationship fresh and inspiring and romantic. An Albus who's years post-Ariana's death has the emotional capacity and maturity to appreciate Harry as a partner that he didn't have at almost-eighteen.

oh yeah uh, since this is time travel!harrydore we'll put this on the playing field of 'Harry is somehow in a time period where Albus is alive and well and post-1899 stuff'. I have to obviously take canon into account where Harry's a kid growing up and Albus is very much an adult for my arguments, but like... what can you do. I'm not asking That Woman to write me a canon harrydore story. She's a TERF hanging with fascists these days, and also she would fuck it up.

here's why harrydore screams 'solution' to me:

Harry and Albus care deeply about each other, despite their own best efforts, and this is shown consistently. Even when the fandom has been wildly inconsistent and flat-out wrong about Harry and Albus and what they mean to each other, That Woman has kept their bond consistent even through works she didn't write like Cursed Child. Harry comes from an abusive/neglectful environment and his relationship strategy boils down to 'abandon them before they abandon me first'; Albus is allergic to showing his entire self to anyone after being betrayed and left behind, so he talks above people's heads and leads them astray with batty humor. Despite all that, despite coming into their initial headmaster-student relationship with their walls up higher than China's, they eventually became fond of one another to the point where they are constantly re-affirming their loyalty and devotion to one another beyond the cause of defeating Voldemort. It’s to the point where Dumbledore literally dies and Harry, seventeen years old and in danger of dying every thirty seconds in Deathly Hallows, spends a significant amount of time wondering why his mentor wasn’t open and honest with him about his personal life beforehand.

Harry and Albus can (and do) make each other better, physically and emotionally. Albus has an astounding amount of faith in Harry almost from the moment they meet; he talks to and treats him with a lot of respect. This only grows as he gets to know Harry better through their annual “post-Voldemort-tried-to-kill-Harry” conversations. Albus comes to see Harry as a “better man” than he was as a young person, and later in the series he constantly mentions how admirable and unique he finds Harry’s insight, compassion, incorruptibility, and capacity for forgiveness. On Harry’s part, Albus is one of the few adults who treats him kindly from their first interaction—Albus listens to Harry, he teaches him without being condescending, he believes Harry when others don’t, and he shields him from threats of all kinds (Voldemort, Death Eaters, Rita Skeeter, the whole frigging Ministry of Magic). He admires Albus as the kind of man he might want to be someday—someone powerful who isn’t afraid to be a bit whimsical.  In return for Albus’ high regard and protection, Harry freely gives Albus a lot of trust and unconditional loyalty. There are obviously pitfalls in their relationship that happen due to lack of trust and/or communication from both, but both of them are able to acknowledge and admit that withholding things from each other is wrong and only leads to more pain. 

Albus and Harry use their interactions with each other to smooth over their character flaws, instead of exacerbating them. Albus has spent a century being extremely secretive and distant, partly because of his relationship with Gellert, to the point where even characters he knows as ‘friends’ do not know his entire backstory (with Minerva McGonagall being an exception). Harry has spent so long being ignored that he gravitates toward any who are kind to him, but is just as quick to cut people off if he thinks for a second that they are inauthentic or about to betray him. He also has trouble seeing the ‘grays’ in a person’s character: his view of Ron changes drastically depending on whether they’re on the outs or not, and his view of Snape is extremely negative until almost the end of the series, even though he knows the man is spying for Dumbledore for almost three years. But when Albus and Harry spend time together, or share their thoughts and feelings after Voldemort’s latest attack, they take on one another’s better traits. From Harry, Albus learns (to an extent) to be more open with his thoughts and feelings; from Albus, Harry learns how to read people and predict what they’ll do, and how to put himself in others’ shoes before passing judgment.

Meta reason: in the fandom (unlike an uncomfortable portion of gr*ndeld*re fics and fans) the majority of people who either ship Harry and Albus or appreciate their platonic relationship actually love or at least like both characters. Where other ships involving Harry or Albus sometimes involve one or the other being bashed or diminished to prop up the other partner, most depictions of Harry and Albus in harrydore are respectful to both men and try to be as accurate and in-depth as possible. While, you know, understandably sticking up the middle finger at canon for not letting them be together in any way, shape or form thanks to book 6. There are just not as many bash sessions-disguised-as-fanfics or blatant mischaracterizations of Harry or Albus in time travel!harrydore as there are of either man in alternate ships like gr*ndeld*re, h*nny, dr*rry, t*marry/h*rrym*rt, sn*rry, etc.

Albus and Harry change over time and their relationship changes, too, without dissolving. Harry goes from being a bright-eyed innocent with a sharp tongue to a fierce young man with a temper, and then again to a calmer, insightful young adult with a deeper understanding of the world. Albus goes from a cheerful-but-distant headmaster to a more compassionate, hands-on mentor. And although they fight sometimes, although they don’t always make the right decisions for one another or themselves, both wordlessly resolve to keep working on their relationship. The two of them have had significant disagreements (about Snape, Voldemort, and the prophecy among other things) but have never thrown in the towel. The only reason it ‘ends’ is because Dumbledore passes away and unwittingly leaves Harry alone.

Some might argue that Harry gives a lot in harrydore and Albus takes. I would counter-argue that the giving and taking is almost even between them. Albus sacrifices just as much and more than he does with gr*ndeld*re: his time, his family, his reputation, and his life; but with harrydore he actually gets something back. Harry’s devotion is notable in the series for not being blind hero-worship, but rather a deep appreciation of Albus Dumbledore as a human who makes mistakes but has good intentions. Harry consistently gives Albus tangible (information, the Sword of Gryffindor, random Horcruxes) and intangible (trust, support, faith) things in return for the constant risks Albus takes to keep him safe behind the scenes.

Finally, Harry as-an-adult is to me personally a golden opportunity for Albus, who constantly talks about the value and importance of love, to experience it for himself. We do get some of this in canon through their platonic relationship, but romantically Harry has a lot of traits that a post-Ariana, post-Gellert Albus would appreciate and find compelling. Harry’s very straightforward and says what he means; he may not be a genius or a prodigy, but he’s pretty smart and powerful in his own right; and he values his bonds with others, and will do anything for the people he loves and/or considers family. A wounded Albus who lost his family and the love of his life would be pretty well-served by someone who would remain faithful to him and would not leave his side, no matter what.

In summation: time travel!harrydore is peak in both fandom and meta and it easily clears. gr*ndeld*re could never

[fullmusicbardsquared]

ik this'll come out of nowhere and be kinda weird but i saw your "what happens to Zelda" tag on the "she would not fucking become a housewife" post and because tloz is my hyperfixation my love my baby, i just wanna fill others in!! feel no need to respond to this. in fact I'd be kind of embarrassed if you did. In case you don't wanna read all of this here is the TLDR: Zelda and Link are two very traumatized individuals who were forced and hurt by the societal expectations and the destiny placed upon them and after many tragedies in their lives would rather live freely as they want rather than confide in similar societal norms that people want to place upon them.

long version: that post was in particular about the Zelda we see in Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom. from a young age, Zelda had the knowledge of her family's divine bloodline held over her. and when the warning of the Calamity Ganon (the physical manifestation of the Demon King's hatred) came to light, she was to train in awakening her divine powers. however at age 6, her mother died (implied assassination by the Yiga Tribe who worship the Demon King). Her father, King Rhoam Bosphoromus Hyrule, fell into a deep depression and began emotionally neglecting/abusing her. Zelda has a love for science, history, and the ancient technology of an era long forgotten constructed by the Sheikah Tribe. She used this as a coping mechanism with the expectations of saving the world put on her, her mother's death, and her father's neglect. Rhoam however believed that Zelda needed to put everything she had into awakening the divine power within her and frequently fought with and berated Zelda for her interest in the Sheikah Technology.

Eventually, when she is 16, she and five other individuals (Link, Revali, Urbosa, Daruk, and Mipha) form the Champions. Together they would defeat Calamity Ganon and restore peace to Hyrule. Urbosa was Zelda's mother'a best friend and thus took on a maternal role for Zelda. However Link, the Chosen Hero, was initially disliked by Zelda. He represented everything she thought she wasn't. Link also was part of this prophecy, as the Hero chosen by the Master Sword who will help seal Ganon. However from Zelda's perspective, Link took on his role so much easier than she did. Unlike Zelda, who struggled to connect with her divinity and couldn't awaken her powers, Link was a proficient swordsman and fighter. She resented him for it and often lashed out at him. One day, Link put his life in extreme risk to save Zelda's life from Yiga Assassins after her, and that action was something Zelda was incredibly grateful for, so she began trying to connect with him a bit. She learned that Link was actually struggling heavily. He too was thrust into this position from an early age when he was chosen by the Master Sword at age 13 or so. Since then, he was frequently seen and treated as a walking weapon before a person. He internalized that and began bottling up his thoughts and feelings, seeing himself as having to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders without ccomplaint. This revelation made Zelda see Link as similar to herself, and they connected on a more personal level about their shared stress and destiny. Eventually they became close friends and showed interest in something more between them.

Unfortunately, on Zelda's 17th birthday she went to the Sacred Spring of Wisdom to pray to the Goddesses in a final attempt to awaken her powers. She has tried everything she could think of up to that point and was at her lowest after failing to show any signs of power at all. It was then that the Calamity Ganon struck. The Calamity took control of the Ancient Sheikah Technology and turned it against Hyrule while also manifesting several monsters to attack. This event became known as The Great Calamity. Most of Hyrule's population was killed in this event, along with four of the Champions and her father. Several towns were in ruins or completely destroyed (like Hyrule Castle Town), and Hyrule Castle itself was taken, infested with monsters, and in ruins.

Link and Zelda flee and retreat to Fort Hateno where corrupted Guardians (large autonomous tank-like robots) attacked them amd the last remaining part of the Hyrulean Army. They were getting crushed and Link was gravely wounded, and at the last moment right before Link surely would've been killed, Zelda's powers manifested and obliterated the Guardians at the fort. Despite this one victory, there was no time for celebration as Link collapsed and dies in Zelda's arms.

Zelda is having none of it though, and orders a few survivors of the Fort Hateno battle to bring Link to the Shrine of Resurrection (which was an ancient sheikah shrine able to revive one person, however had gone unused for thousands of years and wasn't even known of it was still safe).

Zelda brings the Master Sword back to it's pedestal and goes to Hyrule Castle alone to confront the Calamity Ganon. In one night, Zelda had lost everything and she used that grief and anger to seal away the Calamity and herself within Hyrule Castle. She couldn't destroy it, however as she needed Link and the Master Sword. The two of them needed to do this together. So she waited in a state of stasis along with the beast for Link to awaken from the Shrine of Resurrection.

It took 100 years for Link to be resurrected, and as he was actively being healed he naturally didn't physically age. He awoke with no memories however. BotW happens and he slowly regains his memories of the Great Calamity and of Zelda. At the end of the game, Zelda helps Link from within Calamity Ganon and destroys the creature. (for clarification, Zelda also didn't physically age as her divine powers kept her and the Calamity in a form of stasis for the century that Link healed. Unlike Link however, she was fully conscious.)

Around 5 years pass, and in that time Link and Zelda (both around 22/122) have been slowly rebuilding Hyrule with the inhabitants of this new era. They have made new friends and connections 100 years after their lives were changed forever and were moving forward with their lives.

This peace doesn't last unfortunately, as a dark substance begins leaking from the ground underneath the ruins of Hyrule Castle. Link and Zelda investigate and discover the decaying body of the Demon King himself, Ganondorf. He is being restrained by a mysterious spiritual arm, but when Link and Zelda discover and approach the sight, the land collapses and falls to the floor; a tear-shaped artifact falls from the hand and lands in front of Zelda, who picks it up. Then Ganondorf, now free from the prison that the hand was keeping him in, attacks. This attack cripples Link (almost completely destroying his right arm), shatters the Master Sword, and causes the cavern they're all in to collapse. During this collapse, Zelda falls into a cavern. As she is falling, her divine powers (which in this game is further revealed to be light based cleansing powers as well as time manipulation) activate and she is sent far into the past: the era of Hyrule's foundation.

In the past she meets the first King and Queen of Hyrule, Rauru and Sonia. These two become the parents Zelda never had (and the ones she deserved, they're great) and they plan to figure out a way for Zelda to master her time powers to maybe send herself back the 20,000 years in the future to her time.

Zelda becomes very close with the people in this era and even gets to keep the tear-shaped stone she found in the cavern. Long story short; she learns of a forbidden practice known as draconification, gains some control over her abilities, Ganondorf launches his first attack on Hyrule, kills Sonia, transforms into the Demon King, and begins the Imprisoning War.

Rauru, four Sages (Sages of Wind, Fire, Water, and Lightning) and Zelda (appointed as the Sage of Time) fight Ganondorf. Ganondorf however is whooping their asses, and Rauru sacrifices himself to seal Ganondorf (eventually becoming the arm Link and Zelda find imprisoning Ganondorf).

So Zelda is utter defeated. When suddenly, a golden light appears before her and the shattered, broken Master Sword appears before her (Link in the present day gained time-based powers known as Recall from Zelda's willpower that had manifested which reacts with Zelda's time powers in the past and created a temporary link through time in which the sword was sent to the past through).

Zelda realizes that she is part of a causal-loop (where events in the future cause events in the past to happen that then cause said future events to happen). She realizes that by helping seal away the Demon King, she also helped create the Calamity Ganon that destroyed her kingdom in the future and she realizes what she must do to save her kingdom and those she loves. Thus she swallows the tear-shaped stone and undergoes Draconification. She is painfully turned into a dragon and the Master Sword gets lodged in her head to heal (as the blade heals via sacred energy as told in botw and other past tloz games).

As a dragon, Zelda loses everything that made her "Zelda". Her mind, emotions, spirit is all lost. She wanders aimlessly in the skies above Hyrule for thousands of years until the end of TotK where she, as a dragon, gets the Sword (now fully restored and more powerful) pulled from her head by Link and fights the Demon King alongside him. Absolutely destroying him and ending the plague on Hyrule.

Using an advanced version of Recall + Sonia and Rauru's ghosts manifesting and channeling their powers through Link, Zelda gets her draconification reversed (which was previously thought impossible). After being miserable and controlled for most of their lives, Zelda and Link finally get to live their lives in peace. No more "destiny", no more "fate", no more "expectations". Link and Zelda get to finally live their lives how they want to. Zelda, by her very character, wants nothing more than to explore and learn. She would not choose to be a traditional housewife raising kids because that isn't who she is. And now she is no longer confined to have to be someone she isn't.

Sorry for this info dump!! but now you know!

OHHHH. okay. i had honestly figured (along with my friend) that the post was about some awful fanfiction the op (are you the op . if you are pretend i wrote you there) saw.

don't apologize for this infodump! this is very interesting, and though i have not played totk, i really enjoyed reading your analysis of Zelda's character!

[fragmcntedsouls]

billie dawson ✦ gianna madden // closed starter ( @giannaxmadden )

Billie had returned to New Orleans a married woman and whilst eloping hadn't initially been on the cards when she and Briggs had left for their overnight camping trip, the pair were far too impulsive and far too in love to have returned as anything other than husband and wife. The past few days had been the happiest and the easiest of her entire life, but so far it was only Briggs’ family and Zeraphine who were aware of the couples news. It had been Billie who wanted to be the one to tell Gianna, at least before Klaus could put his foot in it, or before Gianna could overhear it in idle conversation at the compound.

After their last encounter, the door into Gianna's life had been left wide open for Billie to come and go as much as she pleased, but until now – she hadn’t yet taken the other up on that opportunity. Despite wishing to be the one to share the news with her mother, Billie was fearful of the reaction she would undoubtedly receive and Gianna had made it clear that she wasn’t particularly fond of Briggs – despite not knowing him and despite not knowing Billie. The banshee was also fearful that marriage might be a sore subject for Gianna; the tabloids having been all over her own separation and although Billie tried not to indulge in rumours, she had wondered what that relationship had been like. Wondering whether at the beginning they had truly loved each other, whether they still loved each other, or if the entire thing was some kind of publicity stunt. Billie wanted to know if Gianna's husband had loved her like Briggs loved Billie – although, she was certain that nobody loved, nor could love somebody as well as she and Briggs loved each another. There were so many unanswered questions that she still held onto – fearful to ask, unwilling to push. 

Billie had been in the parking lot to Gianna's building for an hour already, pacing back and forth, indecisive as to whether she really wanted to do this, or whether she should wait it out a few more days, or wait to see if Gianna came to her. As the minutes ticked on, she thought what would be the harm in Klaus slipping up and telling Gianna? The temptation becoming more and more promising, before snapping herself out of it again.  

Inhaling a sharp breath, she was seconds away from calling it quits and admitting defeat, before the main doors opened and a member of Gianna's staff gestured for her to come inside. Passing them in the doorway, she mumbled quietly “guess she knows i’m here then” before heading down the hall and stepping into the elevator, using the short trip to psych herself up. 

Once on the correct floor, Billie found herself stood outside of the apartment door and staring blanky at it, noting that even the hallway of the building was beautiful. Finally though her hand lifted; hovering momentarily against the wood, ‘come on – you can fucking do this. Just like you practised, rip the band aid off’ she breathed, eventually knocking and waiting anxiously for Gianna to respond.

[seyaryminamoto]

When you posted the first chapter of Gladiator how far ahead were you in terms of planning the path the story would take? Are there any great changes from the original outline?

Uuuuuh... X'D

For me, planning stories isn't a linear journey. I DO write linearly as best as I'm able, because if I don't, I'm going to fuck up the continuity of my stories. I really am not good at just writing the big moments first and stuffing the rest of the content in later. All the power to the people who can do that, but the few times I've tried, I fucked up so badly that I always end up having to rewrite the scene I wrote beforehand anyway! So, yeah, I build up on things and try to have all cards on the table by the time I write the big stuff.

But planning? Oh boy, planning is WAY messier than that.

Let me see if I can illustrate this properly:

The core idea for Gladiator was suggested to me by a reader over at FF.net back in February 2013. One day, a month later, I gave the idea a little more thought than I had when he first offered it and my brain went into overdrive when I concocted these specific concepts that, at the time, were the very core of the story:

Azula and Sokka as partners with thicker sexual tension than anything I'd written in my life until then, in a will-they-won't-they situation that, of course, results in "THEY DID". In this setting, the war didn't end on time, meaning that a lot of things changed, including that Azula's got a blank slate in a lot of regards, so both her and Sokka need to be developed from scratch. Initially, I wasn't sure of where exactly I'd take the relationship aside from knowing that they'd obviously get together, but the specific concept of what I'd do with their relationship only arrived sometime later (as in, when I realized I was too addicted to this story and had too much to do with it to "cut to the chase", unlike what certain people wanted me to do). Also, of course, major potential to make them an epic battle couple, something I'd never gotten the chance to write them as until then, so big plus there!

Their biggest rival throughout the story would be Toph, banking on a very different portrayal than the fandom usually likes in Sokka and Toph's dynamics: she would be the big enemy inside the league that he struggles the most with defeating because, let's be real, it feels like no one could have ever imagined that Sokka could ever beat Toph in a fair, one-on-one battle until I outright wrote it in the final arc of Part 2 X'D Hence, I figured that giving him that HUGE initial goal to pursue (defeating Toph) would give us a solid story thread to follow for a long time.

Iroh as Toph's sponsor because of The Chase and their canon bond, with Toph basically being Iroh's biggest fan in the Gaang due to their bonding scene in that episode. I would then be expanding on a bond that, back in the day, was a fandom favorite and that, these days, seems to have gone completely under the radar because it feels like nobody even TALKS about it anymore. It's kinda taken for granted, I'd say?

Combustion Man as THE TOP DOG of the Ranking. The final hurdle both Sokka and Toph need to outdo to become the best gladiators in the league. Why are they trying to do that? In Toph's case, she loves fighting, this story basically gave her a chance to go wild in that sense and measure herself against all kinds of enemies. In Sokka's case? As proposed by that reader's initial pitch, he'd be forcefully taken from the Fire Nation and would want to go home: his deal with Azula solidified then as the reason why he wants to be #1. Once he wins and beats Combustion Man, Azula will consider their contract fulfilled and she will let him go back to the Water Tribe.

Zhao as Combustion Man's sponsor because I needed someone relevant to do it, it didn't feel right to just make an OC for a role so important, back in the day, and in this setting, Zhao wouldn't have died/vanished in the NWT so he was available for my needs -- all of which then led me into building a backstory where Azula held some manner of resentment towards Zhao that pushed her further in her need to find a gladiator and become the best sponsor in the league.

These five story elements were the first things that came to mind. As I liked the idea of Azula and Sokka having an immensely conflictive relationship at first, where they couldn't trust each other 100% but they LIKED each other way more than they wanted to, I switched the "Sokka gets captured by randos" from the original pitch to "AZULA captures Sokka", and that resulted in a LOT of extra chaos than what was part of the story's original concept :'D I'd dare say the main positive element about this was that the story felt more dynamic in the second chapter (when they meet for the first time) than it would have if Sokka had been caught by any other Fire Nation military officer. It even puts forward the deepest layer of rivalry in the story too: the one person in the Fire Nation settlement who could have outdone Sokka is Azula. If he had faced anyone else. he might have had chances of success... but not when he faced her.

This, then, means that Azula HERSELF is a big goal and hurdle Sokka has to overcome. Partly, their relationship would've granted Sokka the means through which he could achieve that goal, but the point is that, from very early on, I realized that I wanted the story to chronicle the gradual journey of how Sokka went from... uh, a hundred to infinity X'D because no, he wasn't a zero, he just wasn't THAT good just yet. I wanted this journey to become a full exploration of Sokka's potential as a warrior until he was strong enough to go toe to toe with Azula and defeat her one day...!

... And once I realized that, one of the first core scenes of Gladiator came into shape. As in, the day Sokka finally defeated Azula.

Also known as chapter 96 :')

On the day Sokka beats her, EVERYTHING changes. This change is primarily fueled by the fact that he DOESN'T want to defeat her, at that point. He is so done with their frequent conflicts when the one thing he REALLY wants is... her. And Azula wants HIM. So when he impulsively kisses her instead of dealing a killer blow...! Yeah, uh... pfft. God, I had done so little plotting of their character arcs that I ACTUALLY thought, back then, that there'd be tension in terms of the readers thinking "omg, is he going to kill her?!" ... yeah, that was dead in the water so fast x'D I sincerely doubt ANYONE ever imagined that he'd do that when that scene came around, but you asked about how the plotting went in the initial stages of the story, pretty sure this specific hilarious tidbit illustrates that fairly well x'D anyway, Azula surrenders and the whole underlying theme of a war between them finally gets resolved in the best way it could! :'D

But... how would THAT particular fight sequence come about?

And that's where the lead-up to the scene started to take shape! Sokka has been trying to beat Toph, but he can't! She beats him when it FINALLY looks like he might win. When that happens, Sokka seems to be ready to give up on everything, and Azula lashes out at him because she won't let him quit on her just like that. BINGO!

... And that, dear asker, was the first genuine scene and arc plotting that I did for Gladiator.

After this? I thought Sokka would go on to fight Combustion Man after a final fight with Toph in which he finally beats her. This fight with Toph, back then, was bound to take place within maybe a few months of his last defeat at her hands, I thought, but with the power of getting laid, Sokka was totally going to kick ass this time and then go on to defeat the BIG DEAL, COMBUSTION MAN HIMSELF.

And then he'd kill him. Paying a bit of homage to canon :')

It slowly came together, however, that a fight against Combustion Man quite so soon after defeating Toph was probably not going to be... well, completely reasonable unless the situation REALLY called for it for... some reason. While I'm not entirely sure that I came up with this right away, it probably wasn't over a week after I started plotting the story that I figured that Iroh would vindictively tell Ozai about Azula and Sokka's relationship after witnessing what he shouldn't have witnessed when they celebrated their triumph over Toph a little more enthusiastically than would have been appropriate :'D Then, since Combustion Man would be serving, in a sense, as Ozai's executioner of bad gladiators for sponsors who need a lesson, he'd be the one tasked with killing Sokka only for Sokka to kill him right back (?)

At this point? There was no Xin Long. The idea of Sokka killing Combustion Man through a volatile bomb predates Xin Long! I boldly snuck in a reference to how Sokka would defeat Combustion Man as early as chapter 2 because I'm crazy and wanted to make it a useful callback in future chapters, unaware that "future chapters" meant ALMOST 250 CHAPTERS LATER! X'D Anyway, point is, I wanted Sokka to defeat Combustion Man through different means than in canon, seeing how in canon he had advantages he wouldn't have had in this story (this is a controlled environment, a one-on-one fight, there's no cover where Sokka can objectively hide, he wouldn't have the opportunity to just fuck up Combustion Man the exact same way, he's not going to fall to his death, for there's no abyss nearby...). So, I came up with the volatile bomb for that purpose, and that tells you that I spent around 7 years with the image of Combustion Man burning to his death living rent free in my head before finally writing it :'D

OKAY! So! What else did I come up with...?

I think Sokka and Azula's first kiss was relatively early plotting too. The idea of Sokka carelessly flirting with Suki in the ring came to mind, and Azula being Azula, she wasn't going to appreciate that at all, so she would have kissed him recklessly in a very inappropriate and territorial bid to stake a claim over him that she really shouldn't have... but Sokka would've thought it was hot and gone with it anyway (?)

Funny reveal time here: back in the day, I was determined to ensure that they wouldn't kiss again after that first kiss, not until they were ready to bang in chapter 96. Can you believe I thought I'd have the self-restraint to pull that off? x'D I laugh at my innocence in those regards to this day.

The second kiss I planned, probably MONTHS later, was actually the one on the way to the Slate. I wanted them to go out of control at one point and for them to be like "omg that was very inappropriate of us! How could we! But omg does that mean you like me tooooo?"

And isn't it HILARIOUS that my plotting was soooo naïve that I STILL didn't realize how far the early chapters would take them in their relationship? x'D

This, in a nutshell, is the exact reason why I CAN'T write out of order: if I'd written the Slate's trip situation as early as when I first thought about it? You can bet it would've made zero sense with all the character progression we saw through the rest of the story. And then I would have had to rewrite it anyway :')

Xin Long, I won't lie, was a bit of a whim on my part, no doubt motivated by my frustrations with canon and how Azula seemed to only get screwed over. So I said "she gets whatever the hell she wants in Gladiator because I hate the world" and once the idea of helping her find a dragon came to mind, I just rolled with it (?) It took me a while to actually integrate Xin Long with the Rough Rhinos arc, I wasn't sure about when I'd introduce him once the idea came to mind, but there was no better chance than to do so while Sokka and Azula were lost in the forest.

About other stuff, I liked the idea of Piandao training Sokka more extensively than in canon, but I didn't want him to be Sokka's host FOREVER because that meant less chances for Sokkla interactions. So... I had to get rid of him.

Believe it or not, I didn't sort out the in-world reasons to explain why I'd gotten rid of him until well around 3-4 years into plotting the story :')

Piandao's connection to Ursa felt natural after I really started thinking about it, but that took AGES to properly plot. Initially? I just needed him to go away. And in a sense, the excuse was that Iroh was on his way home, meaning, there was a Grand Lotus near the Fire Lord's court, way closer than Piandao ever was, so he didn't NEED to be there anymore.

... And that kind of led into Zuko.

While I was absolutely overtaken by the wild plotting involved in soooo many other aspects of the story, my good friend @jordanalane, no longer active on tumblr or the fandom, put up with my rambling about ALL THESE IDEAS and went "Yay! This story sounds fun! What's going on with Zuko here?"

Me, internally: "... Well shit I forgot about Zuko."

I won't say that she singlehandedly set up Zuko's journey in Gladiator, but saying that she gave me about 65% of the ideas for what I'd do with him would probably be fairly accurate, unless the percentage is larger than I thought. I actually toyed with the idea of setting up Zuko and Aang on a way bigger, political journey that we'd only occasionally glimpse while we focused on Sokka and Azula's partnership within the Fire Nation culture and all the gladiatorial chaos. Very early on, the plan seriously wasn't for Sokka to become... well, what he is now xD So I was genuinely going to leave all the heavy lifting of the war to Aang and Zuko because, ultimately, the Fire Nation has to be defeated and they're the ones who usually get up to that, right?

I think I've mentioned that, post Combustion Man's death, I had no idea wtf I was going to do. Like... I knew that was far away. I knew I'd have the time (or at least, I faithfully believed I would) to figure out what I'd do before we got to that point. I absolutely knew the story could not possibly end there.

So at this stage of plotting, I toyed with Blue Spirit Zuko joining the Gladiator League briefly as a destabilizer within the system (and then I started writing Zuko in the story and realized that... no. There was just no way this guy wanted anything to do with the Gladiator League as a fighter or even as a sponsor. Nope). Then, I thought he should go south (though I had no idea how I'd get him there!), where he'd find Aang eventually! There was a veeeery small window of time in which I considered keeping Aang at 12-years-old, which would've made Kataang waaaaay too unsettling since Katara would've been over 20, and I thought maybe Zuko and Katara could be a thing? But the idea never really solidified into anything I wanted to write between those two, it felt like an older Katara would've focused even more on protecting Aang (becoming the actual mother figure the fandom and even canon are obsessed with adultifying her into at 14) because she'd be too aware of how young and fragile he was...!

... But then? I thought it would've actually made sense for Aang to be more than just the little boy who saves the day and everyone protects:

Why not make him an opportunity for Katara to learn her Tribe's traditional and lost waterbending styles?

If I aged up Aang, and made it so he had been frozen in the South Pole, not out of sheer chance but out of him actually BEING IN THE AREA when the storm struck him? That could do the trick! If his journey as a waterbending master was already underway by the time he was frozen, then he'd have two elements down... and he could be Katara's teacher instead! While there were downsides to this decision, of course, it actually made a ton of sense to me mainly because I don't love the way it feels like Katara, in canon, never truly reclaimed the traditional southern style of waterbending. This, then, meant that Aang could provide her with a connection to her own people and their past, something he can't offer her in canon.

So! With that in mind? I aged up Aang and made him 19, and Kataang could be preserved and be developed this way. Part of it is also motivated by my genuine confusion, when I first watched the show, over the old Air Nomad leaders deciding that Aang, already declared an airbending master, "needed to master more advanced airbending techniques" right after revealing that he was the Avatar. I mean... if he's already a master, doesn't it make more sense to send him to the next element he's supposed to learn? Especially considering it's water? And considering that the storm clouds in the horizon were coming from the Fire Nation, so the more water to fight them, the better? :'D

So yep, that was another reason why I made the choices I made.

Lo and behold, slowly and surely, the core bones of Gladiator were starting to take shape: Azula and Sokka start as contentious allies, joining forces for a common goal and very different motivations, all of which would lead them into falling in love over time. Their biggest threats in the league are Toph and Combustion Man, but perhaps bigger still would be Iroh, who would rat them out to Ozai (I'm 100% serious when I say this specific element of the story has been part of Gladiator's DNA since the very start, the whole journey I threw Iroh into was basically "how do I get him to the point where he would be THAT pissed off as to do something like this with no regard as to the consequences of his own actions?"). Zuko, Katara and Aang would more or less stick to being involved in fighting the war, they wouldn't be all that connected to the Gladiator League or anything to do with that.

Worth noting that my friend started to come up with ideas for Zuko and Suki to get together and make sense as a couple in the story, and while at first it was just a casual thing that I figured would work alright, her ideas became... so much more poignant than I ever imagined they would be.

About one year, maybe a year-and-a-half, after I started plotting Gladiator, I actually figured out what my endgame would be.

At that point, I actually knew where we were going and I started to focus my attention on plotting how to get there. New concepts started to pop up, things that I absolutely hadn't thought about from the get-go: I DID have my alternate idea on what was going on with Ursa since ages ago (the swamp concept, as you'll likely have read already...), and after The Search thoroughly disappointed me, I chose to stick with that path without looking back. But while this was in the background, something I knew had happened but that I doubted I'd be able to work into the story productively, I realized it would actually be something I could explore IN the story once Part 3 stopped being a big nebulous blob of mystery for me. I decided that Sokka and Azula would be torn away from each other, that HE would be the one leading the war faction out of the South Pole and into the chaos of war, that Piandao's tile for Sokka, mainly done as homage to canon back when I wrote that, could actually represent something FAR GREATER if Sokka joined forces with the White Lotus to fight the Fire Nation and return to Azula...!

... And one of my most evil advisors of those years also very casually inceptioned into my head the very wicked idea of pregnant Azula in the middle of this mess :'D

I could go on and on, honestly! I have one funny thing to bring up, and it's that the scene from the Northern Air Temple arc, where Sokka tells Azula his true fears and feelings about his family, how he doesn't think he's worthy of going home and is genuinely apprehensive of returning because he thinks his dad will be disappointed in him? That... was repurposed from a very early idea I had for Sokka and Azula, once they were properly together, traveling to Whaletail Island, and spending a casual day/night in bed talking about a lot of things, which then led into Sokka talking about his family and what he actually felt about them, which Azula wasn't supposed to know about until then :'D That was, ironically, the origin point for the Whaletail Island arc. The scene that originated it just... never happened x'D

As you may be able to tell... the progress of their relationship, the evolution and development of the characters, caused a LOT of things to move forward way faster than I thought they would. Hence, Sokka wound up telling Azula about all those things WAAAY sooner than I originally envisioned. By then, Whaletail's scene was kind of broken down and spread into other situations and arcs instead! Again: this is why I can't write out of chronological order xD

One funny thing to look back on was my confident belief that Sokka and Azula would spend the bulk of Part 1 doing a mutual pining thing where neither one realized the other felt the exact same way about them... when I was in the middle of their best conversations in the Rough Rhinos' arc, the THIRD ARC of the entire story, I was like "yo... they're 100% aware of the fact that they're down bad for each other already. There's literally no mystery about how they feel, THEY OBVIOUSLY ALREADY KNOW." And that hilariously changed A LOT of how things developed later, because I sure as heck didn't plan for them to kiss in the Rough Rhinos arc at all (it kinda happened on a whimsical plotting session, a few days before writing it :'D). I did NOT plan for them to kiss at Ty Lee's backyard, either (oh, this one was basically them getting out of my control and doing whatever they wanted, same evil advisor I mentioned earlier told me to go with it while I cried to her about how I apparently just COULDN'T STOP THEM FROM MAKING OUT???)...

Ember Island's arc, so poignant and crucial and such a KEY element in their relationship, was probably plotted well after... six months since the original idea of Gladiator came to my head. I did not think about this one until A WHILE into writing the story already. I was probably almost done posting the Rough Rhinos by the time the full concept of that arc materialized in my head! The beloved Pairs Tournament arc? That was 100% a reader's suggestion, from an ask I got one day! x'D I told them that sounded like a fun concept, and then, once I pondered it some more and fleshed it out, it ended up becoming a highlight for me, it's gone on to become a fan favorite arc of the entire story, as well as The Arc where Toph finally became friends with Sokka and Azula properly!

So. Yep. Basically... I do not plot anything linearly. I can't. If I did, I wouldn't have a clue of where I'm going and I'd lose my steam so fast that I would just crumble under the weight of not seeing the point of what I'm doing. I think I can write without a huge endgame, to a fault, with less demanding stories... but Gladiator was ALWAYS so much bigger than anything my brain could wrap around back when I first started to plot this story, and it's no joke to say that it's really taken me ten years to not only write it, but actually plot the story as thoroughly as I can (hell, only a few months ago I got struck by lightning with A PLOT TWIST that I just wrote yesterday! A crazy development I absolutely HAD NOT thought about, and that I fell in love with completely when it came to mind!). The amount of threads and possibilities and ideas that I've been juggling for AGES is probably a little crazy, honestly.

But yeah, in short, it's wild to think that even though I absolutely planned several things YEARS before they came into fruition, ultimately, the final arc of Part 1 came together before the first one, in many senses. It came together before every arc, basically, and all the material in between was just a matter of building a huge, solid bridge to the point where Sokka and Azula would finally act on their feelings. The process through which I got there absolutely changed me in a thousand ways, my ideas and my plans often wound up switched up whenever a random, crazy idea came up, and I thought to myself "... and why not?" after a few moments of indulging it and being on the brink of discarding it.

As another fun tidbit of information? That's kind of what happened with something as vital to the story as Rei has been, throughout Part 3: she is a character I came up with, not really on the fly, but at relative random once I was planning on having Azula seek Zhao for help over Toph's predicament back in Part 2. I loved the idea of a teenage, dorky maid who had NOT expected to meet the Princess, but initially? She's nothing to make a fuss over because we've been seeing heaps of people who are starstruck by Azula by then. She only stands out for having the dorkiest reverence ever x'D and part of why she stands out too, instead of getting written off, initially, as Zhao's nameless, aimless home staff, is because I had thought about the potential of making her Zhao's illegitimate daughter at this point in time! But I DIDN'T go all in with it on her first appearance... because I wasn't sure. Because I didn't think I could juggle ANOTHER plot point and new character on top of everything I had to set up (at this point I was particularly preoccupied by figuring out how to establish Shaofeng and Renkai as important characters for my future purposes with both of them :'D). So I said "nah, you know what? She's just the cute and quirky maid. We like her. Zhao is decent to her. He doesn't need to be her father."

... About two weeks before going all in on the Hahn's Gambit arc, I was pondering Part 3. The idea of Rei being Zhao's illegitimate daughter returned to mind. My impulse was dismissing my own thoughts, frankly, along the lines of "I mean, wtf would she even do once Zhao becomes Crown Prince? She'd be abandoned in the estate anyway, like, what, she would inherit it or something?" and then... then it struck me. I realized that she could very well just come with him. As his maid. And then, she could become Azula's maid...

... What followed was about three days of plotting that suddenly brought LIFE to Azula's Part 3 early storyline and I suddenly could not BELIEVE I had ever let myself think I could let go of this character and make nothing of note with her x'D

The situation with Rei is, indeed, something that happened often throughout Gladiator. Some ideas I've clung to, some ideas I've dismissed, some ideas have terraformed the groundwork I'd already set up... and instead of panicking about it? I've done what I could to work with it. Hence, that the will-they-won't-they did NOT include the agony of "but would he/she return my feelings?!" wound up being a result of the build up, something I didn't plan all along but that worked perfectly for my purposes. The idea of making Sokka and Azula's relationship not be just some powerful high, the be-all-end-all of the story once it was crystallized and once they were together? That wasn't immediate, either... but it certainly came along as a result of my greed, I'd dare say x'D

When I realized how long this story was going to be, I told myself this fic was basically the landscape upon which I could very well turn all my Sokkla dreams come true. And it wasn't ONLY the Sokkla dreams related to their fluff, or smut, or angst... no, it was even the fact that, for ONCE, I could build a story where Sokka and Azula were NOT the B-story to Zuko and Aang's A-story, unlike how it might have felt in most any other story, hell, even in my long defunct plans for how to conclude the story (and thank God that I dismissed that mess, honestly). Suddenly, I realized I could bring the ENTIRE Avatarverse together, reconfigure every character, repurpose as many of them as I cared to... and create a scenario where the story, every single major beat of it, was connected to THEM. Where the battle against Ozai was no longer some distant conflict with unexplored emotional stakes, it's a PERSONAL one, not only for Azula but for Sokka as well. And while I'm not going to pretend that I'm the only person who has ever rewritten ATLA to this extent without centering the story on Aang or Zuko, I can certainly say that I've never seen anything of this scale elsewhere (... which can be kinda literal too, considering this is, indeed, the longest fic in the fandom...).

But I REALLY didn't start out with that idea in mind. Back when the concept came to me... I really didn't know where I would be going, honestly. I knew this would be a HUGE commitment, but I didn't know how big, exactly. Now that I do know, that I have the full scope of the story in my grasp... I can tell you that yeah, I had no idea what I was getting into and I'm glad I jumped in anyway x'D

If anyone gets all the way through this long post and wants advice on how to cope with ridiculously long stories that are that difficult to plot? I think that my advice would definitely be to give it time, let it simmer, find the moments, the scenes you REALLY look forward to writing. Don't settle for powering towards the endgame without advancing the story beforehand: push things at other points of the story and if, when you reach your big story climax, you find that the leadup is different from what you were expecting you'd have in your hands, once you got there? ... Roll with the punches. Reconfigure the scene in your head. Improvise, to a fault, and build up FURTHER on what you already had... because the likelihood is that the outcome is going to be a thousand times better than your OG plans were. Don't let yourself get lost in enforcing a plot stubbornly: nothing makes a story come to life as vividly as surfing along with the new highs and changes that hit you at the spur of the moment, figuring out how to make your story the best it can be. I won't pretend Gladiator is anywhere close to perfect... but after just looking back on everything that has led us to where we are? I can definitely say I'm very proud of this story's journey, very proud of having jumped into this madness even when my vision of it, at the time when I started plotting, could have never informed me of every crazy thing I'd end up achieving with this story. While some important elements of the story 100% stayed true to my OG concept... I'm really glad that I let myself change certain aspects because it enriched everything I was doing well beyond the scope of what I could grasp back then.

Anyway. Sorry for the long rambling. I got a little hyped haha. Thanks for the ask!

[ultraericthered]

And it’s funny, because I’ve never actually disagreed that Azula could have a redemption arc. However, it would not have fit in the show--that’s a simple fact. If there had been a fourth season, then there would have been room, but what bothers me is that people claim Azula ‘deserved a happy ending’ in the show proper, and leaving aside my issue with the idea that anyone ‘deserves’ a redemption, there was simply no place for it. There was absolutely no way for the show to go from Azula’s position during the Agni Kai to redeemed and happy by the epilogue, and her downfall during season 3 would have been horrifically butchered if they tried to shove it any earlier in the season. Her arc was meant to be tragic, where Zuko’s was uplifting; she succumbed to and continued the cycle of abuse, where Zuko overcame it

Fucking THANK YOU. A small part of me dies inside whenever I read any take suggesting that Azula needed or "deserved" a redemption within the three season narrative of the show and that it's some black mark on the show that she wasn't given one. The Azula character (initially envisioned as Azul, Zuko's twisted younger brother) was concieved with a very specific narrative function, and putting her through another redemption arc while the narrative already had its hands full with Zuko would be completely antithetical to that function and render her a redundant character who would act as a stumbling block in the story for unintended reasons. Azula's character growth arc and road to redemption had to be paved out elsewhere than the original show, and I'm hoping that with the new comic finally setting a new course for her, Avatar Studios will be finally able to deliver on it.

and when he defeated her--and yes, by valuing Katara’s life over his own, he did win that fight, symbolically if not literally--

OK, this is a reach. Azula implemented a cold-blooded tactic, Zuko acted in the way I think she hoped he would be jumping in front of the lightning bolt aimed at Katara, he ended up on the ground wounded and unable to fight any further. That sounds like a defeat to me, and what makes this really low of Azula to pull is that Zuko might've actually defeated her had she fought fairly the whole way through. However, what Zuko did win was the qualifications to lead the nation and the value of friends who'd stick by him, whereas Azula, the "perfect" golden child firebending prodigy who'd always beaten him, ended up having nothing to show for years of effort, not even the throne of the Fire Nation or any friends and family by her side. It's she, the "winner" against "loser" Zuko, who ends up the disgraced failure left with nothing but emptiness; that's what broke her mind.

I think that a redemption arc would need to take all of this into account if it was implemented, and I don’t think that anyone she hurt has an obligation to forgive her, even if she did become a better person--but I also think there was no room for such an arc in the show proper. (I do prefer to ignore the comics, for many reasons, but I’ll admit they did Azula dirty.)

Again, thank Raava and all the spirits for what we're getting now!

What do you really think of Azula? Sometimes I think that you have more hatred for her than you have for Ozai who is the main cause of Zuko's abuse. Because of Ozai Azula abused Zuko, he was the one who damaged the relationship between Azula and Zuko.

I definitely don’t hate Azula more than Ozai, first of all. I don’t actually hate her at all, though I am much more vocally critical of her than I am of Ozai, for one simple reason: (almost) nobody says that Ozai did nothing wrong.

I’m well aware that Ozai was Azula’s abuser just as much as he was Zuko’s, and that he was the primary reason Azula was abusive to Zuko in turn. However, I’ve never seen someone argue, unironically, that Ozai didn’t abuse Zuko, that Zuko was the problem in their relationship, that Ursa was just as culpable for his abusive actions, or that Ozai had done nothing wrong and was being treated unfairly by the fandom.

(Which isn’t to say that these arguments don’t exist. I know that the In Leather Pants crowd exists and I’m sure there are people who woobify Ozai, but they aren’t particularly vocal in the platforms which I frequent, so I haven’t seen any of these arguments, and certainly none of them gain any real traction.)

What I do see a lot of--particularly from the ‘Azula did nothing wrong’ crowd, which exists in large enough numbers that every few days or so I see at least one post which makes me want to throw something--is the argument that Azula couldn’t possibly be an abuser (as if kids can’t abuse each other, which I know from my own experiences as a child they absolutely can, and this abuse can take many forms beyond just physical), or that Zuko was a bad brother for not ‘trying harder’ (whatever the fuck that means, given his own position as one of her victims as a child), or that Ursa is actually responsible for Azula’s actions (I particularly hate the argument that Ursa was abusive, because what we see from her wrt her interactions with Azula is someone who sees a darkness in their child she is trying to steer her away from, and chastising/disciplining your child for bad behavior is not abuse, nor is it indicative of a lack of love for her child), or any number of other reasons why Azula shouldn’t be held accountable for her bad actions during the series.

And it’s funny, because I’ve never actually disagreed that Azula could have a redemption arc. However, it would not have fit in the show--that’s a simple fact. If there had been a fourth season, then there would have been room, but what bothers me is that people claim Azula ‘deserved a happy ending’ in the show proper, and leaving aside my issue with the idea that anyone ‘deserves’ a redemption, there was simply no place for it. There was absolutely no way for the show to go from Azula’s position during the Agni Kai to redeemed and happy by the epilogue, and her downfall during season 3 would have been horrifically butchered if they tried to shove it any earlier in the season. Her arc was meant to be tragic, where Zuko’s was uplifting; she succumbed to and continued the cycle of abuse, where Zuko overcame it; she symbolized everything about the Fire Nation that Zuko was no longer party to, and when he defeated her--and yes, by valuing Katara’s life over his own, he did win that fight, symbolically if not literally--he wasn’t just overcoming his family legacy, he was defeating the lingering specter of the Fire Nation’s mark on the world.

He needed to face Azula in the final act, just as Aang needed to face Ozai, and the Final Agni Kai is often considered the true climax of the show for this reason--the finale would have seemed trite and empty without it.

So, in the end, that is what I think of Azula--a tragic figure, who was an abuse victim and also an abuser, and who clung to her need for power and validation and her father’s love and respect to the point where she was willing to murder her own brother for it long before they faced each other in the finale. I see her as someone who deserved better, but I believe that the focus on her to the point of denying the harm she did to the people she was supposed to love and care about does her a great disservice. I think that a redemption arc would need to take all of this into account if it was implemented, and I don’t think that anyone she hurt has an obligation to forgive her, even if she did become a better person--but I also think there was no room for such an arc in the show proper. (I do prefer to ignore the comics, for many reasons, but I’ll admit they did Azula dirty.)

I like her as a villain, I feel for her as a tragic figure of Fire Nation violence who is eventually defeated by her own hubris and the last waterbender from a nation her people nearly destroyed, but I am very critical of her because I see a lot of apologism for her actions in the fandom which comes with a healthy dose of victim blaming and denial of her bad actions, and it bothers me.

[tenta-cute]

Is this a headcanon? Is this a ficlet? Who knows! (Not me).

El gets her first part-time job. Since the “El” part and the “part-time job” part both carry a certain potential for trouble entirely on their own, and together they might just morph into a world-ending event, a very long-suffering Steve “Always The Damn Babysitter” Harrington also gets a part-time job, totally not to keep an eye on El.

So, that’s essentially the genesis of Santa Steve and El the Elf.

For two weeks leading up to Christmas they spend their days stuck in cheap costumes that smell kinda funky, bringing joy to the youngest residents of Hawkins. Ho-ho-ho.

Okay, so maybe the job is not that bad. Steve will sooner die than admit it, but once the initial embarrassment dies down along with the last remaining shreds of his dignity, he actually starts having fun; El is over the moon and endearingly solemn about her elf duties, and some of the things that the kids sitting on Steve’s lap ask for have him in fucking stitches. He definitely adds a couple things to his Ridiculous Joke Gifts For Dustin list.

Of course the Party cannot possibly pass up the opportunity to make Steve regret every single one of his life choices, so on the very first day they all show up at the mall. All of them. Max even has a little Santa hat perched on her head, because she’s a horrible little gremlin. She’s somehow managed to force Billy tag along, and he is now doing this thing where he’s clearly having a field day, but a part of him is sorta dying inside because Billy Hargrove used to be the coolest guy around, and now he is hanging out with his little sister’s friends.

(Steve knows that look. Steve used to wear the same look. It’s the look of a cool guy who is still coming to terms with the fact that being a dork is a tragic destiny he cannot evade.)

Anyway, just as Steve is about to finally take a break, Dustin fucking sprints past El and lands on Steve’s thighs ass-first, nearly knocking the damn chair over. Steve grabs him on instinct and groans when Dustin starts to loudly announce all the things he fully expects to receive from Santa, starting with a fucking pony.

The little kids go wild, because this cool teenager (they are still naive enough to believe that all teenagers are cool, bless their little hearts) is telling Santa what he wants for Christmas, and that sorta makes all the little kids cool by proxy, right?

Since the kids are there Steve cannot exactly tell Dustin to get the fuck off his legs, so he just… plasters on a fake smile and tries to push the dumbass off his lap.

From the corner of his eye he spots El the Elf diligently doing her job, that is temporarily blinding him with a flash from the camera, forever immortalizing the heartfelt moment in which a yelling Dustin falls off Steve’s lap.

After Steve finally admits defeat, of course every single dickead decides they also need a photo with Santa Steve, so Santa Steve has no choice but to give in to the overall hilarity and have fun. He is pretty sure that El managed to capture the moment when he shoves a candy cane up Mike’s nose, and this is like a personal milestone. The little kids are going nuts. Everyone is having a grand time.

As Steve’s break time is about to end, El the Elf turns her gentle gaze to Billy and loudly says, “You should go next,” which Max the Fucking Gremlin instantly picks up on and starts egging her brother on.

Billy groans and rolls his eyes and it’s a waste of time, because in the end Billy always does what El asks of him, so Steve decides to speed things up.

“Don’t be shy, Little Billy!” he croons and encouragingly pats his lap.

Billy looks at him. Then Billy gives him one of his slightly unhinged grins, strolls up to Steve, and plants his heavy ass on Steve’s lap. He even pulls his legs up and swings them over the arm of the chair, ostentatiously making himself comfortable.

The little kids go absolutely fucking feral because holy shit, an adult doing something silly.

Steve only belatedly realizes that this might’ve been a bad idea.

Still, there are like two dozen starry-eyed kids watching his every move, so he clears his throat and tries to carry on as normal.

“So, uh, have you been a good boy this year?” After a moment of consideration he adds an obligatory, “Ho-ho-ho.”

“Nope!” Max immediately howls from the audience. Steve miraculously manages to catch Billy’s wrist right before he flips his sister off. In lieu of a rude gesture, Billy smiles all pretty and bats his eyelashes at Max.

“Don’t listen to her, St—Santa.” Billy says solemnly. “I’ve been a very good boy.”

Oh God. Yeah, definitely a bad idea.

“Okay,” Steve says weakly. “Then… What do you want for Christmas?”

And Billy, well….

Billy leans in and very quietly tells Santa what he wants for Christmas.

(Rumor has it that somewhere out there exists a photo of an extremely smug Billy Hargrove sitting in the lap of Mall Santa Steve. Steve’s face is almost as red as his uniform and he seems to be on the verge of panic. There’s the faintest blur in one of the corners of the photo, which might or might not be an extreme close-up of El’s finger.

At some point the photo had vanished from existence and nobody knows what happened to it—not even Billy, who definitely doesn't have it tucked into the Camaro’s sun visor.)

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

[jewishrizahawkeye]

HELLO!

i totally did not forget about this post and when i remembered had to do 75 searches on my blog to find it… anyway let’s talk about reputation and snakes

reputation

Edward Elric

- time for THE comeback album bitches

- taylor has described this album as her most metal album (she was going through it and LYING), but while i disagree with that regard i still think there is something to that idea. taylor initially described it as finding love in the darkest of times, which is true. the album focuses more on the idea and fears of a relationship based on past loves and her world as a whole. and while that relationship is no longer happening, the message of the album still holds true.

- “my world is uninhabitable for most, no one can stay. but you’re staying?”

- there is though, still a hint of venom or anger at times in the album. mainly towards the media or certain people who tried to destroy her career by lying through there teeth and putting her through years of media abuse, BUT WERE NOT HERE FOR THAT RANT BY KELLY SO ILL SHUT UP, but it’s also anger towards her circumstances about the life she had chosen and didn’t fully realize what she was getting into

- as when she signed on to be a country singer at 16 being a celebrity was a very different experience and meaning than our current idea of it as social media was no where near as prevalent

- it’s those ideas why i think reputation is ed.

- ed is someone who made a decision years ago and is now forever facing the consequences and blaming himself not only for it but all the aftershocks it’s caused in the peoples he’s loves lives

- and here’s to my real friends, they don’t care about the HE SAID SHE SAID! and here’s to my baaaaaaby, HE AINT READING WHAT THEY CALL ME LATELY! and here’s to my mammmmma, HAD TO LISTEN TO ALL THIS DRAMA! *the other shoe drops*

- that’s not even metaphorical SHE ACTUALLY THROWS A SHOE ON THE GROUND AT THAT POINT. LIKE SHE IS EMPHASIZING HOW THE STRAIN IT PUT ON HER AND HER FAMILY + WHILE HER MOTHER WAS DEALING WITH HER CANCER WAS ONE OF THE FINAL STRAWS FOR HER!!!!!!

- i’m sorry, i’m not, i just fucking love this song

- and though the people in his life don’t blame him, as neither do the ones in taylor’s that we can tell through her songs, he knows he doesn’t make it easier to know it be around him. (even before he discovers the conspiracy). he is angry and upset about what has happened to him but also knows that he got himself into this situation. so while he doesn’t necessarily fight it he is annoyed by it.

- he also feels very indebted to making things right and is going out of his way to help and save everyone which is a lot for anyone to take on ESPECIALLY at his young age, which is something that has been seen in taylor’s past albums and echos of defeat in this one

- i think in general edward deserves a LWYMMD moment as only hot people get those and ed’s been through enough shit in life he deserves it.

- also the love songs on this album feel very shocked and surprised, blushing and unable to speak. which is how we often see ed reacting to winry (cause he’s 14 and has a crush on a girl ohhhhhhhhhhhh).

- they’re unsure and exciting, the narrator doesn’t know how to deal with it. it goes from being excited to being upset and confused to admitting guilt over situations but also not regretting it as it freed them.

- the love songs are all about finding a love that’s new and exciting a real. not just the idea of love to go off of but a real love between two people. which is what edwin can be seen with as childhood friends to lovers. as both are almost blindsided by their feelings and even propose to each other in the most awkward way imaginable and both get flustered.

alright hello!

a month or so back i was sent these asks in september telling me about a series that @megthemighty did on what taylor swift albums are fullmetal alchemist characters! and the anon wanted to hear my opinions since my brand is just liking taylor swift and enjoying fullmetal alchemist a completely normal amount (you can trust me, i promise). and i thought the idea was very cool and wanted to share my thoughts on each album! so after working on this for two months (don’t ask) i finally finished the list!!

i also went off on this at times because i would either word vomit about an album/song or a character and ended up making something that’s INCREDIBLY long. so i decided it would be best to post it one at a time in a chain post style (so i don’t like overwhelm myself or others). so i’m going to slowly chain post over the ne t few days this with each album and character! so without further ado:

Taylor Swift (Bonus Track Version):

Winry Rockbell

- debut has some of taylor’s best lyrics to date and can cut glass (cold as you still gives me chills)

- the primary theme of the album is about who will i become and first loves while also having a common theme of radio and music being used to describe love. which is important to taylor’s character as she was obsessed (and still is) with country music, so her saying “his smiles like the radio” is her evoking a specific feeling of her listening to music on the radio and sharing that to the audience that when her boyfriend smiles it makes her feel like she’s listening to her favorite songs on the radio. i definitely over explained it but it’s a very sweet and beautiful line to describe how in love you are with a person and how they feel to you

- this idea, while drastically different from winrys loves and goals, radiates her character though

- both winry and taylor had big dreams ever since they were young and went out into the world to make it a reality still at a young age. for taylor, she was able to release her first album at 16 and would later win album of the year on her second album (which i don’t think people realize is FUCKING INSANE TO DO ON YOUR SOPHMORE ALBUM AND IT BEING A COUNTRY ALBUM). similarly though, winry starts working at her family’s automail shop when she’s young, already being ed’s full time mechanic at the age of 14, and later takes up an apprenticeship in rush valley and gains a loyal customer base very quickly for her time there. for a girl that young to achieve something like that is INSANE. she’s already got her dreams met at the age of 15 and it can only go up from there for her

- but tying back into the primary theme of the album being “who am i and who will i become” and how that resonates with winrys character. winry is trying to not only find herself in her youth but also how to help ed and al after their accident. her life was shaken after it and she’s doing everything she can to help them. if y’all would let me quote a song here, she’s “just a girl trying to find a place in this world”

- also songs like TDOMG, Tim McGraw, Invisible, Mary’s Song and so many others can be read as edwin coded as they’re about a young love that sticks around but not always seeing the other as a potential option until it’s to late… or maybe it isn’t, you’ll never know until you tell them

- at its core debut is just a young girl getting to follow her dreams and do what she loves while not knowing what the future will hold for her. which fits winry going to rush valley and her story arc. she doesn’t know what will come but gets to chase her dream very young and only grow from there. especially in the wake of ed and al since her world was shaken and she didn’t know what would or could happen to them or her. she doesn’t know what will come but gets to chase her dream very young and only grow from there.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

an (incomplete) list of things kon can do because lex luthor is his dad that people always forget about:

#1 : math - he's fifteen, and math comes easy to him (unlike a lot of people his age, or at least, his visible age.) a lot of things come easy to him, because when you have all knowledge in the known universe downloaded into your brain, things like advanced math don't bother you very much.

but it bothers his friends, because bart loses interest about three seconds into the assignments, cassie groans anytime "homework" is brought up in general, and tim hates the concept and execution of math so much that he'd rather hide in kon's room where he thinks no one will look for him instead of even cracking open a textbook.

but kon's pretty sure being a hero means you don't need any real world skills, and after his initial hesitation and disagreements, he realized that he genuinely wants these people to like him, to be friends with him. their math homework is easier than a breeze to complete.

#2 : tying a tie the ~fancy~ way - he's nineteen, and his fingers flow through a silk tie like a fish through water. the motions are beyond familiar, he could do them in his sleep. so is the action of pulling on a suit, pressing his collar, arranging his hair into a neat style. he's timothy drake-wayne's date tonight, and he needs to look the part. fortunately, luthor taught him how to look the part a long the ago.

the party itself is,,,,pleasant, he supposes. he spends most of the time as arm candy, tim's pretty little thing as his boyfriend sweet-talked investors and networked. but they both know that the tipsier people are, the easier they let slip secrets to someone they believe won't understand them, and kon gathers a wealth of information by the time he meets up with tim by the appetizer bar right before dinner.

tim tugs him close by his tie and kisses his cheek, then laughs when kon discreetly but disgustedly spits out the pickled salmon cracker toppings.

#3 : educated debating - he's sixteen, and in an argument with tim that's gone so off the rails that kon can't even remember what they were fighting about in the first place. wherever they started, they were here, now, kon on top of a table in an ice cream parlour screaming about how a socialist approach to taxes would boost the lower class, tim on top of a barstool screaming right back about how the middle class are the only ones paying taxes and socialism would only put more weight on their shoulders.

both of them are this close to busting out laughing, and the only reason they haven't been thrown out is because the employee behind the counter is frantically taking notes. kon can see it in tim's eyes, see the way the younger boy didn't expect to hold such a passionate and intense debate with him, didn't expect kon to be capable of it. it's a pleasant surprise, though; that much is evident in tim's barely-hidden grin.

the debate comes to a pause when bart smacks him with a spoon and tells him off for stepping on the speedster's ice cream, and the tiredness with which he collapses back into the booth is a good one.

#4 : efficient + effective workplace supervision - he's twenty, and wondering how in the hell people hadn't murdered the entirety of young justice when it was first founded. bart had graduated to being the flash's full time sidekick, and though he came to visit often, it wasn't the same. gotham was almost always on the verge of imminent disaster these days, and tim was one of the few ropes holding it together. kon missed him like crazy, but his few visits were all the boy could spare. cassie was in charge now, and she was a wonderful leader, but busy, always smoothing over relations between the team and the justice league and civilian offices.

so, somehow, that left kon to be the den mother to all the new younger kids, and somehow, kon was good at it. he knew exactly what to say to get people to listen to his commands, telling them to work on this or work on that, train for this and practice that. he tells them when to get some sleep and let the weight of the day roll off their shoulders, and when to push themselves to raise them higher than they ever thought they could go. unexpectedly, he finds himself liking it.

#5 : the splits

#6 : colour schemes + interior decorating - he's twenty-one, and tim's finally deciding to turn the nest into a home. bart, who had spent the last couple of years bouncing between allen-west-mercury households and was therefore accustomed to a home with a fire of love reaching every corner and every member of the family, was appalled. so was kon, honestly.

the penthouse that tim worked out of was cold and impersonal, sleek lines that angles that matched the limbs and contours of tim's body. but the shadows around tim's eyes had lessed over the past few years, his smile coming to his lips almost as easy as when young justice first learned how to work together. all it took was a little encouragement from cassie, and suddenly, all four of them were involved in a home renovation project.

cassie churned out ikea furniture like it was nothing, the three of them taking a break from their jobs to just watch her as she lifted one of their hardwood bookshelves with one hand. bart bought home goods and essentials from various department stores and ran around, stocking the house with them wherever he felt a saucepan needed to be hung (near the coat hanger) or a candle holder needed to be placed (on the kitchen barstools, because apparently those were decorative anyway).

kon, meanwhile, decorated. he painted rooms and bought curtains and pillows, yes. but he also sorted through every single souvenir and memory the four of them had managed to accumulate over the years, photographs and hacked-off pieces of giant robots and saved movie tickets and broken weapons. he gets his hands on everything he can find, then fills up tim's nest until it's brimming with a cosy warmth made up of the four of them.

still, it's an obnoxiously large penthouse, so there's empty and open space left over even after redecorating. it's tim who takes a breath and works up the courage to tell them, not ask but tell them, that he wanted each of them to have their own bedroom. so bart takes the largest guest room and turns it into an explosion of colour, and cassie spends too much time decorating a room that she won't even live in most of the time. kon conspicuously notes how tim doesn't bother giving kon a room, just dumps kon's backpack on his bed and clears room in his own closet. he does wrap tim in a ttk hug though, from all the way across the room, and drinks in tim's red flush.

#7 : speed reading (no powers) - he's seventeen, and just now realizing how competitive his best friends are. cassie had long since resigned herself to being the judge and the hander-outer-of-prizes (candy from the nearest convenience store) for the speed-reading competition, but tim, kon, and bart were still in the running.

eventually, though, the pressure from holding back his powers grew too strong, and bart slumped against the back of the sofa, mournfully opening his mouth so cassie could drop a candy into it.

and then there were two.

kon thought back to the confrontation that had started this contest in the first place, robin's offhand comment about how he had to be the one to collect the data files from the company office they were infiltrating, because he was the only one who could speed-read and retain information. that had spiraled into an argument, then a challenge, then a competition, with a clear rule not to use any powers.

kon darted his eyes across the page, soaking up every word, the pages like tiny knives on the pads of his fingers as he turned them. he lost track of the page count, just reading and reading and reading until he tried to turn the page and realized there wasn't a next one. he yelled in triumph, reveling in tim's defeated groan, and settled in for cassie's quiz on the contents of the book.

#8 : sophisticated meal and wine palette - he was twenty-two, and discovering that he really, really liked tim's shocked face. they'd been friends for years now, childish hatred turned into playful bantering turned into knowing each other inside out. still, every now and then, kon did something that forced tim's eyebrows high on his head, his eyes widening just the barest bit.

right now, kon was at a dinner party with the words moral support written across his forehead. tim could handle himself remarkably well, but there was tiredness lacing the smaller boy's frame, and kon could practically see the way the tips of his soul were frazzled. so kon let tim lean into his arm and whispered jokes about luna-with-the-big-ugly-purse and martonio-who-can't-do-a-combover into his ear. or, at least, he was.

somehow he'd been drawn into a good natured argument with the man sitting just two seats down from tim and kon. friendly opinions of food had been tossed back and forth, growing more and more heated until kon looked him right in the eye and said he liked prosecco with his prosciutto, internally crowing with satisfaction at their shocked silence and sighing with pity that none of the guests here would ever try that combination out of fear of deviation. once the man had regained his sensibilities, he shot back, saying the sixth course should never serve salmon, instead regaling the fish to the amusebouche or the cheese course. kon snorted and told him fish itself was going out of style, and if he wanted to impress guests at the next dinner party he hosted, he should try serving octopus.

tim's shocked face was a pleasant surprise, but seeing the stunned, controlled blinks of everyone around him as they realized he wasn't just a pretty face was satisfying as well. even more satisfying was when he and tim said their goodbyes; while waiting for the valet, tim pressed up onto the tips of his toes and whispered promisingly in kon's ear, i fucking love your competence.

#9 : manipulating people into hating him to justify his actions - he was eighteen, and he was screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. kon didn't know what he had expected. lingering fondness? grudging acceptance? maybe a small leap for a chance at love?

it didn't matter. clark didn't want anything to do with him. and he was eighteen now, which meant clark didn't need to take care of him anymore, didn't need to pretend to pay attention to him anymore. he'd made it quite clear.

maybe that was why he found himself hesitating before saying no to amanda waller's offer. he forgot about the warnings tim gave him, though, and waller pounced on that hesitation, quicker than a panther. it was easy, it was oh so easy to let himself go with her.

besides, they had a reason to hate him now. he hadn't done anything to clark. he hadn't asked to be made. but clark had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and didn't that sting. so if people were going to turn him away now, it was going to be for something he did.

he didn't realize how bad he was spiraling, how close he was to stepping off the lighted ledge he'd been balancing on his entire life and tumbling into the darkness below. but cassie had a stronger punch than most grown superheroes, and bart had tenaciousness written into every strand of his ginormous hair, and tim gripped his jaw so hard his fingernails dug into kon's skin and told kon that he was getting his best friend back, no matter what the hell he thought he was worth.

maybe it was madness that made him throw himself forward, still wrapped in the lasso cassie borrowed from diana, practically mauling tim's lips with his own. he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to break down crying after he kissed someone, given past experience, but the three of them, his wonderful, wonderful friends, just hugged him tight, let him fight and shake and sob until all the rage was gone. it was the first time in a long while he'd done something in hopes that someone would look at him with love, not hatred.

#10 : waltzing - he was twenty-three, twenty three and giddy with how much time he had left. conner was with tim drake-wayne publicly now, so expectations were thrust onto him, expecting to be met.

kon tended to have more fun at events than tim ever did. granted, kon didn't have to deal with all of his coworkers drinking too much and exchanging money with secrets faster than drugs and asking tim whether or not his relationship meant he was open for still-young and handsome men who needed just a small escape from their wives. but tim wasn't trying very hard to enjoy himself either.

so kon was completely justified in tugging him towards the center of the room, in a patch of floor sparsely occupied, then pulling him as close as he dared. tim's panicked whisper of what!? was overridden by kon's laughter, but he muffled his sounds for a minute, letting tim hear the quiet music playing in the background (prerecorded and playing on speakers, not live).

understanding broke over tim's face, and he arched into kon's hold as easy as breathing. kon moved one of his hands to grip tim's wrist, and he twirled the two of them effortlessly, breathless at tim's flabbergasted expression. the rhythm was simple, and tim caught on quickly. one two three, one two twist, one two three, one two step, one two three, one two switch, one two three, one two three.

kon couldn't say they danced the night away, because a little while later tim took a break for a drink, then speeches were made, then dinner was served. by then, they were both entirely too tired to dance, longing for just a bed and a soft blanket and each other. but for those few minutes in the middle of a packed yet empty ballroom, kon and tim did lose themselves in the music, just a little bit.

i don't know shit about taxes or socialism. this got way longer than anticipated whoops. i'm tagging this "long post," but if someone asks me to put it under a cut, i'd be happy to

also jesus christ this thing is almost 2.5k words. im uploading it to ao3 later if i'm in the mood

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridg @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy

[thewayshedreamed]

Congrats on the 800 followers bby you deserve it! I have a good one for you. I slipped and fell in the shower and the only person who can help me is my enemy for nessian 👀👀👀

Well, Sim, it was you who BLEW my word count. I should have seen it coming, I guess 👀

Although, I will say you didn't do it alone. I also combined @maastrash 's prompt "Are you hurt? What happened?" and one from anon, "You're cute when you're all worried."

They all went together so well that I couldn't resist. And as a result, you got this 3k+ beast. RIP 800-word limit.

Anyway, I hope you like it, my love! Enjoy!

--

Nesta wasn't sure why she had agreed to go to the beach with Feyre, Rhysand, and his brothers. Gwyn had come through in her time of need and agreed to join them, but she'd quickly flipped her allegiances to spend more time on the beach with the others instead of retreating back to the house with Nesta. She had a suspicion it had something to do with a certain tall, dark, and broody man who hoarded his smiles from the public eye.

Unless the public eye belonged to Gwyneth Berdara.

After the long trek to their rented beach house, Nesta stopped at the edge of the dock to knock the sand from her shoes. There was a small shower outside the backdoor to rinse the saltwater and stubborn sand from her body, and Nesta hissed against the stark cold that rained down on her legs. A proper shower was the only thing that was going to combat the chill in her blood, and that realization was enough to solidify her decision to stay inside the rest of the afternoon with a romance novel.

Her towel was full of sand, so she hanged it over the porch railing and headed directly to the bathroom. It was best if she peeled her bikini off in the shower to avoid scattering any lingering sand all over her bedroom, so she moved swiftly into the small bathroom and cranked the water nearly to the warmest setting. The firm grip of her arms around her body did very little to combat the goosebumps on her skin, and she let out a near moan at the feel of the hot water.

She closed the shower door behind her and stood beneath the spray properly to rinse her hair. Her bikini made a loud slopping sound against the tile in the corner. Dealing with it was a task for someone with any motivation beyond warmth and cleanliness.

Nesta lathered her hair and combed a generous amount of conditioner through her strands to help with the detangling process. The wind had created a monster, adding another notch against the beach in her book.

While her conditioner did the Cauldron's work, she grabbed a wash cloth and body wash. As she moved back beneath the spray, her foot slipped over the suds near the drain, but Nesta righted herself with a firm hand against the tile wall. The excessive amount of conditioner wasn't helping matters.

She rinsed her hair and body all at once to get to her lounge clothes as soon as possible. Stepping out of the spray to hang her washcloth on the nearby rack to dry was near torture now that she was properly warmed, and Nesta wasted no time in stepping back into the water for one last hit before shutting it off.

That was her intention, anyway. What happened instead is that her traitorous feet were no match for the slick tile, and the backward steps were all it took to send her careening to the floor. She slapped at the wall to no avail, finding no ally in reach. What she did find was insult to injury when various toiletry bottles rained down on top of her.

She had stupidly tried to brace her fall with her other hand, sending a spark of pain from her palm to her shoulder. Her groan echoed off the walls and the shower showed no mercy as the water rained onto her chest, all over her face.

A booming voice made her eyes snap open, only to snap them shut against the sting of the water.

"Nes?"

Her delay had been too long. The bathroom door burst open, and through the frosted glass, she saw Cassian's imposing form assessing the situation.

"Nesta? Are you hurt? What happened?"

This could not be happening. Of all the fuckers to be in the house at one of her lowest points, it had to be Cassian. Gwyn would be hearing about this.

"Go away."

She cringed against how dejected she sounded. Turning her head and shielding her eyes with her uninjured arm, she found that he did no such thing.

"Cassian," she warned. "Get the fuck out of here. Now."

He propped a hip on the bathroom counter. Arrogant bastard. At least, from what she could tell, his chin was turned up toward the ceiling rather than his gaze being fixed on the frosted glass.

"Something tells me things aren't going well if you've yet to peel yourself off the floor."

Nesta rolled her eyes and turned her face toward the water once more. Maybe she could drown.

"Let me help."

"I thought I was pretty clear. I'm not accepting help from you."

A deep sigh sounded in the bathroom, but before she could snap, his rough voice followed.

"Fine. Don't accept my help. Rhys came with me to grab snacks for the others. I'll have him switch with me."

"No," she roared, cringing against the command in her voice and her lack of options.

Every time she tried to sit up, pain tore through various parts of her body. Her ass, the hip that had taken most of the impact, her shoulder. She needed help, and while she hated the idea of accepting it from Cassian, she would rot in hell before Rhysand helped her out of the shower. How had she found herself in a situation where her only chance at help was the man who spent the majority of his life being as big of a pain in her ass as possible?

His voice sounded again, but it carried away from her. "Rhys, head back without me." His brother's voice came next, but Nesta couldn't hear him over the patter of water in the shower. "Nah, I'm good. Just taking a break from the sun. I'll catch up."

With that, he shut the bathroom door behind him. At least Cassian had the good sense to lie to Rhys rather than recruit any additional attention to her compromising position.

"Alright, Sweetheart. I've got a towel ready. I'm going to open up and shut the water off."

Nesta's breath hitched at the rush of cool air, at the form that cast her in shadow almost entirely. She pulled her legs up and shielded her chest with her good arm, earning a throaty chuckle from her savior.

"I'm not looking. I'd rather when a woman wants me to see them naked."

Why her need to launch jabs at him overpowered her pain was lost on her. "Must have been a while, then."

"Saw a good set out on the beach, actually. She was feeling pretty generous after watching me and Az play volleyball, I guess."

Nesta scowled. That tingling sensation down her spine didn't feel secondary to her injuries at hearing the story.

"You're a pig," she grumbled, but she let Cassian drape the towel over her front and ease her into a sitting position.

"It felt rude not to look."

Her huff of a laugh was genuine. Damn him. He moved to wrap the towel tightly around her shoulders.

"Think you can stand up?"

Nesta grimaced against the soreness in her hip. "Yeah. In a couple of minutes."

Without a word, Cassian hoisted her into his arms with measured gentleness. Her cheek rested against his shoulder since she didn't have her arms free to prop her up, but she barely had the energy anyway.

He maneuvered them out of the tight bathroom and down the hall to her room, easing her onto the edge of her bed. She opened her mouth to say thanks, but he had already spurred into action.

"What did you want to wear?"

"I'll get it."

He shot her a glare. "Fine. I'll pick."

Nesta growled her frustration, but Cassian only ticked his eyebrows upward in challenge. She hadn't realized initially that he wore only his swim trunks, half of his black hair pulled back and out of his face. The sun added color to his already bronze skin and left a soft blush on his cheeks that accented his hazel eyes. And she, to the contrary, was a lump beneath a massive towel. One that had managed to injure herself during a simple shower, evidenced by the soaked strands of hair plastered to her face and shoulders.

"There's a large night shirt in my suitcase and some sleep shorts."

Cassian grabbed them before turning toward her, a hand gripping the back of his neck. "Anything... underneath?"

Nesta allowed a sardonic laugh. "Underwear are for people with the use of both their arms."

He cleared his throat and left the clothes next to her on the bed. With a final instruction to call for him if she needed anything, he was gone.

She assessed the clothing and picked the shirt up first. One of her arms was through a sleeve in no time, but the second one was another story entirely. With a defeated whimper she gave up, dropping her arms into her lap with a hiss.

"Cassian!"

No response. Maybe he didn't hear her; the house was rather large. Her voice was louder the second time.

"Cassian!"

A muffled thud sounded, followed by a quick, "Coming!"

He appeared at the threshold of her door, dripping with water and suds. A large towel was wrapped around his waist, his grip white-knuckled to keep it in place.

"Everything alright? Where's the fire?"

Nesta blinked at him. "You said to call you if I needed anything," she pointed out, running her eyes over his state in accusation.

Cassian let out a long, suffering sigh. "I meant it, but you said you had this part covered. I take a 3-minute shower, tops."

"Well, I don't have it covered."

There was more bite to her voice than she'd intended, but self-pity and shame were settling into her bones. She hugged the nightshirt tighter against her body to serve as some form of armor, but it wasn't nearly enough.

Cassian's shoulders sagged, but she barely noticed in favor of watching beads of water travel down his torso, over his strong calves, and make a small puddle on the floor below. "I'm sorry. I was full of sweat and sand. I thought you'd be more likely to take help if I was clean."

Something in her chest softened at his forethought, even more so since he was right.

"Go finish your shower," she relented, settling her hips deeper into the mattress. "I can wait until you're done. I just— I need some help with my clothes."

He was on the balls of his feet, ready to haul himself straight to the shower. The water beneath his feet made her breath hitch. The words left her before she could think better of them.

"Careful! Don't rush." He blinked as if seeing her for the first time, but his usual cocky grin eventually stretched across lips. "I can't help you if you fall, too. And I'm not keeping you company on the ground until the rest of them come back."

Cassian's smile grew. He offered her a wink before he replied, "You're cute when you're all worried."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "Go."

He hurried off on balanced feet, whether that was on Nesta's orders or a natural grace, she wasn't sure. While she waited, she opted to set them up as best as possible to make the process quick and painless. Well, minimally painful, considering there was a layer of awkwardness that was going nowhere fast. That was without counting the actual physical pain she would no doubt endure.

With a pathetic swatting motion, she knocked her sleep shorts to the floor and began shuffling them around with her feet. She'd managed to slip one into the proper leg hole before she heard Cassian's rich laugh from the doorway.

"Stubborn woman," he mused, seemingly allowing a sliver of affection to slip through. Nesta knew better.

She scowled, turning her chin up to make sure he knew how unwelcome his teasing was. He laughed harder and dropped to his knees in front of her, adjusting the tee he’d pulled over his head on his way into the room.

"What do you want to put on first? You're half-committed to both."

"Let's go with the shirt. It's long enough to cover me while we work on the shorts." Cassian nodded, reaching toward the crumpled article of clothing in her lap. Nesta jerked back to establish some expectations before moving forward. "You're about to see me naked."

"Yeah, probably," he sighed, as if it was a burden to him, too. "I won't look more than necessary though."

"Okay, good. And this doesn't change anything, so don't start acting weird around me. We take this to the grave, too. We'll never hear the end of it otherwise."

Cassian bit the inside of his cheek, pursing his lips in a failed attempt to hide his amusement. "You have my word."

He gently peeled the shirt from her grasp, sliding each sleeve beyond the crooks of her elbows before pulling the opening over her head. Nesta hissed at the pinch of pain through her shoulder but bit her tongue.

"I know. I'm sorry." He pulled the fabric down her sides and over her back. The backs of his knuckles dragged across her soft skin, and she barely contained her shiver.

Clearing his throat, he looked to the floor where her shorts were still tangled around her feet. He got to work on straightening them and allowed her to slip her other foot into the proper place. He didn't dare look up at her through his next request.

"Think you could put your weight on the leg that's not as sore?"

Nesta swallowed and said, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Use my shoulders to brace your weight, too.”

Her hands trembled as she reached for him. He was solid beneath her, the muscles in his shoulders unyielding under her grip. She had to resist flexing her fingers more firmly in a test of their resilience.

Cassian eased her shorts upward, the roughness of his knuckles tracing the same blazing path as they had over her back. His gaze was fixed resolutely on the floor, yet he managed to release them at the proper moment. The soft pop of the elastic snapped her out of whatever trance she was under, but the echo remained in the feel of his warm hands easing her hips back down to the mattress.

"Maybe we should have someone take a look at you; make sure you're okay." His brows came together when he realized she was already shaking her head in refusal.

"I'll rest a bit, and I'll be fine. I may be sore tomorrow, but I'm good."

Without a word, Cassian braced one of his legs outward and scooped Nesta into his arms. It grated her nerves how easily he'd lifted them both into a standing position.

"What are you doing? You can't make me go to the doctor."

Cassian leaned back and shook his head, trying to get his rogue hair out of his face. "I'm not manhandling you to the doctor, Nes. Settle down." His bottom lip jutted out to try and blow the strands away while he walked. "I'm taking you to the couch and getting you ice."

Oh. Well, that hadn't been what she expected. The gesture was enough to have her mindlessly raise a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. His eyes snapped to hers, his steps slowing to a stop in front of the couch. Their faces were close enough that she could run her nose along his if she wanted to, but she definitely didn't. Not even at the feel of his firm chest heaving against her.

They stayed that way, transfixed by the contact that was somehow more intimate than when he had draped clothes over her naked body. Their breathing settled into a rhythm together, and Nesta couldn't resist tracing the path of his sharp jaw. His slight stubble scraped against the pads of her fingers, all the way to his chin, where she grazed over his skin with her thumb. She snatched her hand away like he'd burned her.

Cassian's throat bobbed, and his fingers flexed against her ribs. His other hand did the same against her thigh, except his thumb traced a soft, idle path back and forth along the sensitive skin at the back. He made no moves to put her down.

Nesta knew she would regret the loss of his warmth immediately, but the line they flirted was thin. Not to mention, it was irresponsible to succumb to such a base urge considering, any other time, they would be poised to rip each others' heads off.

The shrieks of children at the neighboring beach house snapped their attention to something beyond the bubble they'd created for themselves. Cassian eased her to the couch and positioned pillows around her to keep as much pressure off of her aching joints as possible. He threw a blanket over her legs before heading to the nearby kitchen for ice.

Nesta watched his retreat with shameless appreciation. How had she never stopped to look at him through her current lens? Doing so may have been enough to make her more agreeable in nature. The thought made worry sink in her gut with what had transpired moments before, and she craved the oddly familiar banter they'd engaged in since he showed up to the scene of her demise.

"So," she called, eyes fixed on the intricately patterned throw pillow beneath her injured arm, "how much did you see?"

His voice was closer than she'd expected, but she managed not to startle. "Uh— I mean. I saw some things."

Nesta fixed her glare on him, and he gave her a sideways smile while he placed the ice strategically over her shoulder. She hissed against the cold, earning a look of apology.

"What things?"

He let out along breath. "A bit of everything, really. Not on purpose. " A slight blush turned the tips of his ears pink, but Nesta didn't comment on it. "Mostly, you know—" He gestured back and forth between his pecs. "—everything else was more... indirect, I guess."

Nesta groaned, allowing her forehead to fall to her good hand, cradling it in her palm. Cassian moved to the nearby armchair and took a sip of his bottled water.

"Don't be embarrassed, Sweetheart," he soothed, albeit mockingly. "They're not the worst ones I've seen today."

—

They had watched a movie in loaded silence until the others trudged up to the house near sunset. Nesta gave the cliff notes of how she'd wound up injured on the couch, making no mention of Cassian's help. The last thing they needed was an onslaught of questions from their nosy friends.

"I thought you were coming back out there. What happened to you?"

Cassian's brows drew together at Rhys' question. "Well, I saw Nesta laid up on the couch and offered to watch a movie with her. I lost track of time."

Rhysand eyed him skeptically, but no one questioned it. Cassian redirected everyone's attention to the matter of what they would cook as a group that night, but he was sure to give Nesta strict orders to stay planted on the couch. Overbearing prick.

With so many hands on deck, dinner was ready quickly. They all settled around the table, and Gwyn had made it a point to cushion Nesta's chair with pillows before letting her sit down. Her best friend must have sensed the verbal lashing that awaited her in the privacy of their shared room that night.

Laughter filled the space while they told stories from the day's events. Apparently, Azriel had rescued Gwyn from a feared creature of the deep while taking a dip in the water. He had hardly been able to stop laughing himself to tears long enough to complete the epic tale of how he defeated the bundle of seaweed that had threatened Gwyn's life so mercilessly. The latter hadn't found it quite so amusing, but Az offered her a broad smile in apology.

Nesta wasn't sure she had ever seen one quite so wide on his face, and holy gods. If she'd thought him to be beautiful before, she had been sorely mistaken.

As they usually did, Rhysand and Feyre settled close to each other as the other talked. Rhys was busy murmuring things into Feyre's ear that made her cheeks as red as Gwyn's sunburn, which earned a proper warning from Cassian to "stop being gross with his little sister". Nesta agreed with him enough to refrain from reminding him that he was in no way related to Feyre.

"Don't mind him, Darling," Rhys purred. "He's pouting because the only action he'll see during this trip will be self-directed."

Cassian nostrils flared in annoyance, and for whatever reason, Nesta found herself rising to his defense.

"I don't know," she sang, "I hear Cassian saw a pretty good set today."

A chorus of questions broke out, but he only had eyes for Nesta. The gleam in his eyes told her he knew she hadn't been referring to the ones flashed to him and Azriel after the beach volleyball game.

"I did," he agreed, sipping some of the amber liquid in his glass. "Perfect, actually."

The questions continued, and Azriel reluctantly began recounting the tale of he and Cassian's victory flashing. Nesta used her good arm to raise her wine to her lips, mouthing a subtle thank you over the glass for everything he'd done for her. The least she could do was preserve a bit of his dignity.

Cassian lifted his class in mock cheers and said everything he needed to with a single wink.

The pleasure was all mine.