#that's why she's a disaster bisexual

[jurassic-cunt]

rhaenyra to mysaria: yeahh i struggled with the 'do i want to be him or fuck him' and i chose wrong

[moeblob]

There was a post I saw about someone who mutually ghosted a guy after a date and kept matching with him and they're not interested but it's the longest "relationship" the person had been in at that point and I'm like. Karen would mutually ghost someone.

She doesn't really tell Brent/Right/Evelyn/Chris his name (he has a double first name, Patrick is not his last name) and just refers to him as "My Guy". Like "Ah damn, My Guy matched again. End my suffering." And when she tries to explain it to Right who does NOT understand how it's different, her logical answer is "it's my God given right to ghost a polite man!"

Also I just imagine her confiding in Paul about Rick and he's like "is his name Patrick" and she's like "kinda". And after that, Paul calls him "Pattycakes" cause he's never even seen the guy so why not give him a funny little nickname. He's allowed to do so at this point probably.

[wizardsix]

so I'm wondering what the general consensus is on the companion relationships bc from what ive seen so far they're so lackluster compared to the previous games.

(putting the rest under the cut bc this got unintentionally long...)

and you know what? yeah, I will compare it to bg3, bc I vividly remember so many developers, including bioware ones, being against bg3 being the standard. maybe they meant graphically or scale wise, but it's obvious that we meant the diversity of choices and quality/depth of the companions. larian made it a point that they wanted the relationships to be complex, it wasn't about pressing all the right dialogue for approval, and that sometime you have to challenge your friend's beliefs, sometimes you have to argue w loved ones. and when it came to romance, it was especially stressed that sex wasn't the end goal like so many other games have treated romance.

so yeah, the veilguard companions are disappointing, because it is a massive step backwards from their previous complex companions. you can't be friends, you can't be rivals, and you certainly can't have any kind of deep or complex romance. you don't even have a say in recruiting these people. there's no options for any kind of player, because bioware clearly only had a very specific player in mind. no matter what you do, it forces the illusion of friendship with characters you might not even like, it forces you to be nice and supportive no matter what, stripping the player of the agency and roleplay we were promised.

and there's the part I'm the most sore about. if bioware wanted a more linear game with a more fixed protagonist, fine, but 1) da2 exists and there was still more choice there, and 2) don't fucking lie about it. bioware lied up and down about this game for ten years straight and everyone just accepted it right up to release day. we shouldn't have to accept the bare minimum, especially from a $90cad game. that's money most people don't have to spare anymore, the least you could do is be honest about what people are paying for, especially when those who will buy it are faithful dragon age fans who thought this game was going to be faithful back and finally give them answers about the world they cared so much about.

(and don't get me wrong, larian isn't perfect either and I've made a lot of posts criticising them too, but bg3s success shows that people Do appreciate depth of choice and complex companions (see astarion's success))

to me, it feels like they only included romance bc the previous games had it and they knew people wanted it, but they didn't really care for it or just ultimately had no idea Why these romances worked. I don't get any feeling of care or effort went into these relationships (minus emmrich, but especially with lucanis') and it continues to puzzle me as to why writers even bother writing stuff they don't like or care for. and I don't want to assume it's just for money, bc I want to hope people actually do care about the work they do, so im not saying that, but it definitely doesn't feel good. I've said this before and I'll say it again, I would rather have a few characters with depth in friendship/rivalry with no romance, rather than ones that clearly have depth but is never explored. it's so frustrating to see wasted potential and it's even more frustrating to have my time and money wasted.

[were-my-demons-hide]

She can't hate me if she is trying to comfort me when my social anxiety overtakes my brain, can she?

[dice-n-antlers]

Good morning, fellow Bhaalspawn! I have another sibling for you…

Name: Amity

The name Amity of course means ‘friendship’ so, no, that is not what she was called in the Temple. In that moment on the nautiloid, just after clawing her way out of the pod, she desperately tried to remember something, anything about herself that wasn’t drenched in blood. Somewhere high above the clouds of bloodlust, shining like an impartial little star was this name. Amity. She doesn’t remember the source, but this is the name she was given for the brief time she was with a foster family.

Pronouns: She/They

Race: Tiefling. Although I like the idea of them being from half-elven or high elven stock (Fey’ri). Bhaal really was standing in the kitchen over a blender trying to make the perfect murder-child with the versatility of a human, the dexterity and grace of an elf, and the benefits of demonic blood.

Class: Sorcerer.

In-game they are the wild magic subclass, but I headcanon them as being of the divine soul subclass.

Alignment: Chaotic Good

As much as Bhaal tried to form her body into his perfect blade, he couldn’t mold the soul that inhabited the body beyond raising and brainwashing her into the cult. Every cut, every kill, every horrific act was an act of reverence and devotion to her father, but he could sense the softness in her and was disgusted by it. There was a quiet strife building between them long before she awoke on the nautiloid with fresh eyes. Amity desperately sought her father’s affections in the only ways she knew how, but it was all too easy for Bhaal to accept Orin’s betrayal and raise her to the seat of the chosen.

I don’t know what they’re feeding them in the temple of Bhaal, but she’s BIG. However, she typically uses her magic, or charisma, or dexterity to move through the world so she’s not actually very strong. (I wish there was an option for a large body type that was a bit softer, less muscle-bound)

[relto]

i started this fic for another ship but billie/emily has almost captured me more what the fuck

[were-my-demons-hide]

Fuuuuck

her smile is gonna be the death of me HER DIMPLEEEE

[steddieas-shegoes]

When Eddie comes out to him, Steve makes a big mistake. His first reaction was to thank him for trusting him, which is what Robin told him to do in this situation.

But his second reaction was to say “I also like guys.”

Eddie blinked at him, clearly confused and defensive, like maybe Steve was making fun or not taking him seriously.

“Uh. You do?”

“Yeah man! I mean, no one else knows, but yeah.”

Eddie smiled and thanked him for trusting him with it, said they should hang out more, and recommended a queer bar in Indy if he needed a safe place to explore.

And Steve smiled and nodded like he couldn’t agree more.

As soon as Eddie was gone, he rushed to the phone in his kitchen and called Robin.

She called him an idiot, a dingus, a bisexual disaster —whatever that was—, and told him he absolutely wasn’t allowed to go to a queer bar without her.

She did at least agree to keep up the lie until he could find a way out of it without Eddie thinking he lied to hurt him or something.

But he started hanging out a lot more with Eddie and finding that they had more in common than he originally thought.

Eddie took Robin and Steve to the queer club and Steve…felt at home, felt welcomed, felt like he belonged. Robin kept giving him these looks all night, and Eddie kept dragging him to meet people who he cared about, and one of the guys on the dance floor kept pulling him out there to dance with him.

He felt free and alive and-

Queer.

It hit him as the guy, Paul maybe, was pulling him closer by his waist as his hips rocked to the beat of a song he didn’t recognize but felt like something he wanted on a mixtape. It hit him that he liked this because he liked dancing with Paul like this. He liked this because he saw himself visiting more, even without Eddie and Robin. He liked this because he could picture making out with Eddie in the bathroom.

He froze.

“You okay, sweet thing?” Paul asked him.

“I think I’m in love with my friend.”

Paul’s eyes widened momentarily before patting Steve’s hip. “Is he gay, honey?”

“Huh?” Steve was already trying to find Eddie in the crowd. “Oh, yeah. He’s here tonight.”

“Shouldn’t you be dancin’ with him then?”

Steve finally looked back at Paul, who had his hands on his own hips now, teasing smile on his face.

“Yeah. I should,” Steve thanked him, apologized for any misleading, which was immediately brushed off. Paul was here to dance, he didn’t much care for who he was dancing with.

“Send that beauty over here. She looks like she needs some lessons,” Paul pointed to Robin, who was still looking a little nervous despite the friendly bartender handing her sodas every time he passed by her.

“She’s gay, man.”

“So am I! Doesn’t mean we can’t dance!”

Steve laughed. “You’re right.”

He walked over to Robin quickly, avoided getting pulled back into the crowd.

“I’m in love with Eddie.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “I know, dingus. You literally risked your entire reputation to come to a queer bar to try to impress him.”

Steve balked. “That’s not what this was!”

“Uh huh. Well he’s sulking in the bathroom if you wanna go tell him.”

“Sulking? Why?”

“He saw you dancing with that guy. Think he assumed you were interested in him.”

“Not a chance. I prefer long hair and ripped jeans,” Steve winked. He turned to walk towards the hall with the bathrooms when Robin stopped him.

“Don’t do this if you’re not 100% sure,” she said seriously. “Eddie really likes you and it would destroy him if you were lying to make him feel better.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Steve started, but stopped when Robin gave him a look.

“You’ve literally been pretending to be queer for the last two months because he came out to you and you accidentally came out to him. You’re lucky it wasn’t a complete lie.”

“Yeah but I wouldn’t fuck with his feelings like that.” Steve knew what it was like to be led on. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie. “I’ll be careful with him.”

“And be careful with you.”

He saluted her as he walked away.

When he found Eddie sitting on the counter at the sink in the bathroom, he was swinging his legs back and forth and humming something distinctly less pop than what was playing on the dance floor. No one else was in here, but that didn’t mean no one would walk in.

He walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his knee.

Eddie immediately stopped kicking his feet and looked up.

“What’s with the face?” Steve asked, reaching up to touch the line between his brows that always appeared when he was pouting.

Eddie shrugged. “Just not feeling it tonight I guess.”

“The music isn’t really your thing. Kinda surprised you like this place,” Steve said as his hand drifted down to his wrist. “Seems closer to a small club than a bar.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Eddie’s tone was sharp, laced with jealousy. Even if Steve hadn’t had his realization five minutes earlier, he would’ve seen what that was from a mile away.

“I was until I realized I’d rather be out there with you.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t really dance.”

“But you’d dance with me if I asked, right?” Steve’s fingers circled his wrist and he tugged Eddie off the counter. “Even if I asked you to do it right here with no music?”

“Steve, what are you doing?”

“Dancing. Or trying to.” Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips and started swaying them in sync with his. “It is hard without music.”

“Why don’t you go back out there?” Eddie’s hands went around Steve’s neck.

“Because you’re not out there. I don’t wanna be where you aren’t.”

“Steve-“

“You know I didn’t actually know I liked guys until tonight?” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well, I really like this one guy. Not sure about others yet.”

Eddie was silent, but didn’t push Steve away.

“He was hiding in this bathroom though. I didn’t really think he’d join me out there, so I brought the dancing to him,” Steve winked.

“You like me? You? Like me?”

Steve nodded.

“And you just realized this?”

“Kinda.”

“In a queer bar?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s pretty gay, dude.”

Steve snorted and smacked Eddie’s chest. “That’s the point.”

Eddie moved in impossibly closer, no room for Jesus between their chests anymore. “So you lied when you came out to me?”

“I panicked! But it doesn’t actually count as a lie if I’ve seen the light.”

“Was it a rainbow light? Or the reflection of the disco ball in the glitter shorts Perry was wearing?” Eddie joked.

“Perry!” Steve smacked his own forehead. “He’s nice. Made me come tell you how I feel.”

“Oh. He did?” Eddie seemed shy for maybe the first time ever.

“Yeah. Said I should come dance with you if I’m in love with you.”

Steve hadn’t felt like this in a while, and hadn’t left his heart on his sleeve like this in even longer. As Eddie’s face went from shy to shocked to flustered, Steve thought about how long he’d been dancing around these feelings.

But no more dancing around them. Now it was time to dance with them.

“Can’t believe you just said you’re in love with me in the bathroom of a queer bar. Don’t even think they clean this place,” Eddie laughed, letting his forehead fall against Steve’s.

“I’ll tell you again outside.” Steve kissed his cheek. “And in the van.” His nose. “Your house, my house.” The corner of his mouth. “Everywhere.”

Eddie licked his lip, skipping over a soft kiss for a hungry one. It was hot, desperate, impatient. Everything Steve hadn’t known he needed.

Then again, he hadn’t even actually known he liked guys until tonight. Maybe he was just late to learn things about himself.

[thebibliosphere]

From what I've seen, I think the Batkids would like your book.

Hunger Pangs? You flatter me.

But also, yes thank you for this particular strain on self-indulgent brain rot. I am going to be absolutely abnormal about this.

I’d like to imagine Dick picks it up at an airport somewhere on his way back from a trip and becomes hooked on the “clever, pretty, jumps-from balconies-for-the-thrill-of-the-fall vampire and goes, “oh, same.”

The fact that it’s got a rugged, soldiery werewolf with a heart of gold who enforces self-care as a form of kink-play is also doing stuff to his brain. (That’s a thing? He can… he can ask someone for that? Who does he ask for that? It’s been weeks since he slept more than a few hours and ate more than cereal for dinner. Seriously, who does he ask? How much is it? He’s got money. He’ll pay.) The uh, the need for validation and the budding praise kink is also hitting a little too close to home.

As is “all powerful witch with the power to pick you up with her mind and throw you around like a rag doll.” (LiStEN, he spent a large chunk of his formative years surrounded by tight spandex suits, villains with sexy mind control pollen and getting kidnapped and tied up every other week. It’s not his fault he’s Like This.)

He’s not mad about it, though.

*

Babs catches him re-reading it during downtime. She’s not even that interested, more asking what it is to be polite, but the way Dick jumps and turns red, like he didn’t even realize she was in the room is… intriguing.

“I can see why you like it,” she says, several days later, casually drinking her coffee while Dick stares straight ahead, willing the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Magic, politics. Saving the world from certain doom with the power of knowledge and ecological preservation.” She glances sideways at him. “Vlad’s got some interesting quirks.”

“Shut up.”

“Are we sure you’ve not been compromised?”

“Babs, I mean it.”

“Mean what?” Tim appears in the kitchen as though from nowhere, pouring a red bull into the coffee pot.

No one tries to stop him.

“Dick’s reading a new book,” Babs says, ignoring the murderous look Dick sends her way.

“Oh? What book? Is it any good?”

“Uh, yeah, uh.” Dick rubs at the back of his neck, glaring daggers at Babs as she rolls out of the room, cackling. “It’s uh, romance. Kind of silly actually…”

“Oh?”

Dick nods. “It’s got a vampire and a werewolf. Two guys. And a… well she’s just sort of magic. They break into a library to save the world from ecological disaster. They’re all bi. Together. Or they will be in the next book. This one’s more about the vampire and the werewolf getting together. Um...”

Tim’s gone very still in the way he does when his brain has caught hold of something and he’s absolutely about to let it consume him. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Dick shrugs. “It’s got some kink in it,” he warns, not wanting to expose his younger brother to something he’s not ready for. Which is ludicrous because he’s Robin. And from the way Tim’s not drinking his ‘coffee’ he can tell this is only going to go one way no matter what he says. He brightens, remembering something. “But there’s, like, a non smutty version too? Or a less smutty version, I guess? I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet. I could, we could go to the bookstore, maybe stop at the art store too…”

“I’ll meet you in the car.”

*

“So,” Jason says, and Dick can already tell where this is going by the shit-eating grin on his face. “Vampires, huh? Or is it more the werewolves you’re into?”

“Who told you?” Dick bemoans. “Was it Babs?” He bets it was Babs. Fucking Babs.

“Oh, no one told me anything Boy Wonder. Tim found out the author has a go-fund-me for some medical shit that exceeded his monthly allowance and he’s been harassing Bruce to “fix it” for several days now. He’s down in the cave making a nuisance of himself right now. Apparently he quote “needs more of the bisexual monster books Dick told him about” unquote, and the author can’t do shit if she up and fucking dies because this country’s a fucking for-profit shit hole.”

Dick places his head in his hands. “Oh, God. Is Bruce mad? He’s mad, isn’t he?”

Jason shrugs. “Couldn’t tell you. Last I heard, Tim was playing him the audiobook over the bat computer to make his case.”

Dick let’s his head thump against the table. This is it. This is his villain origin story. He’s going to run away and join the Rogues. Or maybe he’ll go back to the Circus. Either option is better than the idea of having to meet Bruce’s eye later over the dinner table.

“Personally, I thought the plot was a little weak but the characters are compelling,” Jason says, sipping his herbal tea. “I liked the chill necromancer doctor. I feel like he’d be able to fix me.”

[incorrect-green-lantern-quotes]

hc that the Earth GLs often fight over which one of them has to be on the Justice League. Not which one gets to be, they all think it's a chore dealing with Batman's paranoid ass and that's why John usually gets saddled with it (he's the responsible one).

Hal also gets stuck on JL duty fairly often bc "you helped make the team, you better take responsibility for it!"

Guy would get punched in the face by so many people and the man does not need more brain damage

Kyle gets annoyed because the League still treats him like a rookie bc he's part of the same generation as the Titans. Similar thing with Simon and Jessica, but in their case it's kind of warranted, they still have the new kid vibes

Jo hasn't been put on JL duty yet but is dreading it bc she's a bisexual disaster and knows she's gonna get distracted by Wonder Woman's triceps. Also she can't face Superman or Batman after all the Superbat smut she's read

(they're all secretly relieved that there's another Lantern they can assign JL duty to now)

[invinciblerodent]

Devilweed is the closest to being, well, literal DnD weed (dried plant leaves rolled into a tobacco-like substance and then smoked, does "wisdom damage" under 3E rules and makes the user easily confused and skittish as a potential side effect), but dreammist and silkroot are drugs that actually exist as consumables in the game! (Silkroot seems to come from a novel and I think it's kinda like e by the effects, and dreammist/mordayn vapor is a pretty straightforward hallucinogen from 3E.)

I'm thinking about writing this with my girl now, just for kicks. The idea of everyone being loose and relaxed and having a good time around that hookah at the Elfsong sounds nice. Especially if they're like trying to get the PC as high as they possibly can get for this express purpose.

Confession: All I want is the whole gang at the inn, me in Astarion's lap, plenty of food and drink, the dopest faerun equivalent of cannabis the Oak Father can provide, and a running bet to see if Astarion can get high from my blood. Is that so much to ask?

[xiuminsmygrandpa]

I’m devastated that Dead Boy Detectives for many reasons but mostly because every characters story, even the side characters is left open. If there ever was a second season this is what I’d love to see

Niko coming back as a ghost or some other supernatural being and her and Charles bonding over accepting that they are dead. Especially because in season one Charles is forced to confront both his abusive father and being beaten to death. He repressed those memories for 30 years because they were too painful for him. And Niko did the same thing with her father’s death and the mistakes she made while she was alive. Plus I’d just love to see the two of them become friends.

On the flip side I see the other focus on Crystal and Edwin also confronting their pasts. While Charles and Niko struggle with confronting their deaths Edwin needs to accept he was a living being at one point. And now that Crystal has her memories back she will have to reconnect with her past self. I’d love to see her and Edwin bonding over being from families with money and neglectful parents and fearing they deserved the punishments they received. Plus I wanna see more of them bicker like the siblings they are! Maybe we get to see more of Edwin’s family and life when he was alive because it’s basically nonexistent in season one!

Charles realizing his feelings for Edwin are more than platonic now that he knows Edwin likes him and Charles and Edwin becoming more comfortable with being closer physically. Just like Edwin had a sexuality crisis in season one I see Charles also having a sexuality crisis in season two. Luckily he has three girl friends who are all super openly queer.

Edwin going thru his hoe phase but struggling to form emotional connections with his sexual partners because he loves Charles and Charles wanting to be supportive but also being down bad for him. And Edwin potentially confiding in Charles??

Charles and Crystal trying to make a relationship work but realizing pretty quickly they’re not compatible. I do think the season ended with them being in a quasi relationship and I see it dragging out a bit longer because neither of them is ready to let go.

Edwin going to Jenny for relationship advice and her actually giving decent advice. I feel like most fanon assumes he’d go to Niko but I honestly don’t think Niko feels comfy giving relationship advice after the disaster that was Jenny’s date from Hell. I do see both of them possibly tag teaming relationship advice for Edwin. I could also see him confiding in Crystal since they’re already bonding over their shared trauma.

I also see Charles venting to literally everyone but Edwin about his feelings because he’s having a sexuality crisis and confronting his past trauma at the same time. Charles being 100000% jealous of every guy Edwin’s been with and judging whether they’re actually a good match for Edwin. He will be the bestie who’s like “I’m so happy for you” and Edwin being like “then why are you crying” “these are happy tears mate🥺😭”

Edwin and Charles finally having a conversation about the staircase and Edwin realizing Charles only said he wasn’t in love because he wanted to wait until he knew for sure. And both of them admitting they don’t feel like they’re good enough to be what the other one needs.

As for the side characters, I wanna see Jenny finally get a gf in London and become a butcher for both the living and the dead. I want tragic mic to finally become a walrus again because he’s been thru it. This probs won’t happen but Monty coming back and him and Charles bonding over their shared jealousy of Edwin and maybe hate fucking?

This is a long shot but it would be so cool to see Desire and Charles especially when Charles realizes he’s a chaotic bisexual. And Despair and Edwin because I can see them being a disastrous duo.

And lastly death finally meets the dead boy detectives!!

[persepinas]

I find myself often thinking of Daniel’s daughters. I can’t imagine how disappointed they are to have such a shit father who burns through their lives and leaves them in the disaster while he runs off and works and works and works and has Pulitzers and his name to keep him going and they’re just like. Why is dad such an asshole? And you know their mother is an absolute saint. Their strength. The one they can count on. And then by the time they interview happens they have likely cut him out of their lives for years and he may as well be dead because what has he ever given to them but disappointment anyway?

And then they see him on television. And then he’s sending them money. And then he’s sending them his newest novel. And then they see that one late night interview and they’re calling each other to wonder if dad was always so shitty because he wasn’t living his authentic life but also dad is clearly on drugs again but at least he looks to be doing well and maybe he won’t be the absolute worst again. He’s on drugs and he’s clearly bisexual but maybe they can all go to a spa and get their nails done or something because did you see his claws, sis? The money doesn’t hurt either.

He still sucks, though. He’s still be the worst sorry excuse for a father ever. Their mother is still a saint. She deserves the best life ever so fuck him but also they’re so curious about dad and what the hell he’s been up to that they can’t resist finally answering his calls.

[lemotmo]

To the Nonny who posted an ask about...

... how they think that Buddie shouldn't happen in season 8, but rather in season 9.

Okay, look. I read your ask and I understand where you are coming from. I get your frustration. I do.

None of us really expect Eddie to jump out of the closet in episode 1 and shack up with Buck in episode 2? You know? Sure, we joke about it, but we all know it's going to take some time.

I understand that you, as a writer, want to see everything developed and treated with caution. I get why you don't want the Buddie narrative to be rushed. I do. In an ideal world, I would happily sit down and watch two seasons of a very obvious Buddie build-up. I think most of us would, because the 'Will they? Won't they?' of it all? Delicious.

But we also need to be serious here. This is 911. This show is filled with underdeveloped narratives and very flawed character arcs. Realism isn't very high on their priority list. It never was.

This is the show that had Buck realise he was bisexual in one single episode and he didn't even flinch.

This is the show that had Eddie on the path to healing, but then decided he should meet his dead wife's doppelgänger so they could take away his son in the end.

This is the show that has Athena running around playing Robocop, threatening people as she, and she alone, solves all the crimes and murders in LA. Yet she gets to keep her job without any problems.

This is the show that had Bobby dead for 14 minutes, but two weeks later he was walking into the 118, smiling and hugging the others, as if he had had a minor cold and he was coming back from a week off sick.

And yes, Eddie (and all of the other characters really) has a lot of issues and realistically this would take years of therapy and working on himself, but we all know it'll only take a few episodes for him to feel better again. Cue Christopher returns home and all is well again in the Diaz household. Happy times.

It is all far from realistic, but fundamentally that's the nature of this show. It's a silly, wholesome, found-family, sometimes nerve-wracking, highly unrealistic fire fighter procedural.

And that's the whole point of it. The audience love this show because it is so ridiculously over the top. The episodes with the disasters are so iconic! These characters go through the craziest shit and always end up being okay again. It's a big old dose of the found-family trope that everybody loves to watch.

So ultimately, I don't fully disagree with you. You have a great point. And for some other more realistic procedurals? I might even have fully agreed.

But for 911? Knowing this show and how they do things? I'm fully convinced that, if they wanted to pull off queer Eddie and canon Buddie in one single season? They could and they would.

They wouldn't go there right away, because they would need to build the tension. 18 episodes is enough for them to take that tension and use it to elevate the hype. And then in episode 18? BOOM! They drop the 'fully canon' Buddie bomb for real. This way people will go into the hiatus all hyped up, which is always a good thing for a TV-show.

If they decide to not drop the 'fully canon' Buddie bomb in season 8, I do fully expect them to make it canonically absolutely clear that Eddie and Buck are in love. Again, all to create hype during hiatus.

In the end, does it really matter how and when it happens? Whatever the showrunners and writers decide upon? All we, as an audience and as a fandom, can do is accept it and go with it.

And you know what? I'll be seated and transfixed in front of my TV-screen for all of it.

What can I say? I love this flawed, but awesome TV-show so much. ❤️

[were-my-demons-hide]

I managed to (kinda?) open up to a co worker about my social anxiety. I told her how I get all shaky, can't breathe, eat or drink when I have to interact with people I don't know. That those unknown people scare me A LOT. And then she kinda came up with the idea of unbuttoning her shirt to relax my nerves. (She didn't do it. It was just a joke. But still. I can't put her. It makes me insecure and I don't like that.)

[thoughtsfromlayla]

A Pirate Quest For Me - Chapter One

Moodboard created by: @dragon-kazansky

Summary: Despite the "Kraken incident" you're back on your feet for a new adventure and rare treasure. The inconspicuous map calls for three items: a mermaid's tear, a bottle of lightning, and a dream crystal.

Notes: ~4.5k words, not edited/beta-read *squints as I read the script* Why am I in this story? Wait is this play about us???

Warnings/Tags: Merman! Dream, chaotic bisexual disaster pirate reader, Dream's terrible at communicating (nothing's new), some angst, *squints as I read the script further* I did what?

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The thick jungles of the Caribbean make it hard for you to read your map. You turn the old parchment one way and then the other as you try to make heads and tails of it all. Pulling out your compass you watch the needle point north, but is this north on the map? You scratch at your head, your head is still captain-hat-less after the whole Kraken debacle last month. 

Ugh, why didn’t you bring your cartographer with you? Probably because she’d rather die than set foot in a jungle. And you respect that, at this point, you’re debating running for the high seas and never setting foot back in here again as well. 

There are rarely any stinging bugs on a ship after all. 

But the enticement of rare treasure is too much to ignore. The map was found in some empty barrel in Tortuga and promised the finder of treasure adventures for a lifetime. And, well, how can you pass up that?

The map calls for three items: a mermaid’s tear, a bottle of lightning, and a dream crystal. You have no idea which items you are currently hunting, but you follow the map loyally anyway. 

Your long knife cuts through the brushes easily as you determinedly continue on your journey. The sweat you’ve accumulated is slick on the back of your neck. Eventually, you find yourself standing on the shores of a lagoon. You release a sigh of relief and plunge your hands into the waters, cooling yourself as you splash it against your face and neck. 

A strong gust of wind blows your map into the water and you sigh. Why must nothing ever go to plan? You slowly wade into the waters, watching the fish dart away from your boots. Your map keeps drifting away as you make your way towards it.

When you finally get your hands on it, frowning at the smudging ink, a sound that’s not natural to the lagoon life around it catches your attention. The sound was definitely human: a soft humming of a lullaby came from somewhere in the lagoon. You looked around but there was nothing but blue waters and high mountains. 

You wade your way back out of the lagoon, following onshore towards the sound of the humming. Eventually, you make it to a secluded place with a small waterfall, and after pushing aside a few long leaves, your breath stills as you look at the creature before you. 

Her hair and tail were as blue as the lagoon, washing her hair in the cold waterfall that fed into the lagoon. Her ear fins shimmer in the low sun and twitch whenever water enters them. Her tail swings back and forth to the beat of her lullaby as she perches on the stone. The effervescent scales on her arms and torso give her a soft look as they reflect the fleeting sunlight. 

You take a step forward and accidentally step on a twig. The sound is enough for the mermaid to turn her head towards you with a surprised look. She finds you easily behind the tree and her humming stops. She stops as fear takes over her body and stays still in shock. 

“Hi, my name is Captain Fortune. I don’t want to harm you…” You start and slowly make your way towards her. Your hands are raised with the promise of peace. 

Her eyes dart around your body and after landing on the pistol that was secured to your hip, she hisses at you and dives back into the waters. You see her blue tail splash the water into your face as she swims deeper into the cave connected to the lagoon. A few fish friends followed her in her actions. 

You sigh and berate yourself for scaring her off. The sun dips behind the horizon and light leaves in the wake of night. You get to work, finding dry twigs to make a small campfire. It’s a miracle you were able to find a mermaid so soon, but it would be hard to get a tear from her no less. 

Under moonlight and crackling flames, you entertain yourself by slowly singing some shanties to yourself. A small fish you managed to catch was roasting slowly over the flame, the scales chars against the heat. You’ve shed down to your shirt and pants, even decided to take off your boots and discard them off to the side with the rest of your objects. 

“You… sing pretty,” A voice stops you. 

You squint as you look towards the voice, and surprise takes over your face as you see the mermaid listening to you at the edge of the lagoon. 

“Thank you,” You respond quietly in case she swims away again. “I’m sorry I scared you earlier.”

“It’s okay, I just don’t like… weapons.” She looks at you questioningly, eyes roaming your body for anything that may hurt her. “I am Layla,” She introduces herself to you as she rests her head over crossed arms. 

“Can you sing some more, Captain?” Layla asks as she swims closer to you, beaching herself across from your campfire. 

“My mother told me, someday I will buy…” You begin to sing as you examine her features. This was the first time you’ve ever seen a mermaid. “Galley with good oars, sail to distant shores.”

Her ear fins twitch as you continue to sing and she begins to harmonize with your song. Her arms had fins, and her fingers were webbed with sharp nails. It was hard to see in the low light, but you’re sure you made out gills across her ribs and on the sides of her neck. 

“Where are your sisters?” You ask the mermaid when you are done with your song. Mermaids always traveled in groups, it's what made them so dangerous. 

A forlorn look washes over Layla’s face. “I have left my sisters.”

You wait slowly for her to continue her story. She gathers herself with a deep breath, the gills opening and closing as she does so. 

“We were being pursued by hunters. They had these… things, made of something colder than stone, harsher than the afternoon sun, one hit and I see my sisters die before me.” She recalls her memory. “A man, dressed in black, granted me a wish, to be safe from the hunters, but I didn’t realize he would bring me here, swept up in a storm and dropped off.” 

A man dressed in black, she says. A certain Endless pops into your mind and it would not be something out of his power to do something like this.

You look around at the flickering shadows that dance due to the fire. You’re looking for a silhouette you’re all too familiar with. Is he fucking with you right now? You glare at a particular shadow that seems almost human but brush it off. “The man in black, what did he look like?”

“I’m not sure. He is pale, has black hair, and wears black clothes. The stars seem to be trapped in his eyes. I think I’ve seen him before, he is familiar, but each time I think of him the thoughts leave me like a dream.”

Yeah… that’s him alright. You think, sighing as a plan begins to form in your head. You lean back, resting your back on a smooth protruding rock. 

“How long have you been stuck here?” You ask, slowly inching your way closer to the mermaid. 

Layla looks towards the moon and thinks. “I have seen too many new moons to remember. Perhaps… 17?” Layla holds up all 10 of her webbed fingers and you raise a quizzical eyebrow. 

“I don’t think you know how to count,” You think to yourself. “Can I ask something of you?” 

Layla hums, a light, whimsical sound, and you continue. “Has anyone asked you for your tears before?” You ask slowly, unsure of how to proceed. You’ve only just met the mermaid a few hours ago, after all. 

“Do you need a tear?” She asks. 

You nod in response.

“Thank you for telling me the truth. I can give you my tears but it is difficult to procure one unless I feel like it. In which case, I am sorry to disappoint you. I have shed my tears long ago when I was imprisoned in this lagoon.” Layla gives you a shy smile and a shrug.

When she is met with your silence, she sighs and flops back into the water, her tail splashing water onto your fire. The water hisses as it comes in contact with the heat and adds steam to your face. 

You wait for a few hours, hoping that Layla would resurface but steadily the moon rises higher and higher in the sky and you start to lose hope. 

With one last look towards the lagoon cave, you redress yourself and extinguish the flames with sand. You retrace your steps back towards your ship, and dawn breaks when you see the beauty beached by the sea. 

“‘Mornin’, Captain,” Your first mate greets you when you scale back up the ship. 

“Good morning indeed. Wake up some of the crew and tell them to meet me on shore. We’ve got a mermaid to save,” You wave off your command as you make your way to the captain’s quarters.

“A mermaid?” The young sailor questions excitedly.

“Dear Theo, when I recruited you for my ship did I not guarantee you an adventure of a lifetime?” You look back at him with a smile. 

“Yes, Captain Fortune, you did.” 

“Then, by all means, get me the hands, and let’s save this mermaid!” You turn back around as you hear Theo’s skittering footsteps.

In your captain’s quarters you look around for something large enough to transport said mermaid. Your eyes land on a large glass display that has a miniature wooden model of your first ship, the one Dream’s Kraken so cheerfully destroyed. Carefully, you remove the model and place it gently on your desk instead. 

If you tie a few sticks to extend the frame then you and your crew can hammock her back to open waters. 

A small voice in the back of your head taps you on your shoulder. Should you be doing this? You know that Layla was sent to the lagoon by Dream and going against his doing is like sending yourself to the gallows with the noose already around your neck. 

You hesitate for a moment. Just a singular moment.

Ah, well, what’s the worst that could happen? He kills you? Boooring, he’s tried that already and failed‒several times. 

The sun is beating down on you and your selected crew when you return to land. You lead the way as they carry the sloshing glass crate full of seawater. You smack another bug away from your face with a huff of annoyance. 

Soon enough, the lagoon comes into view and you look around with a hand over your eyes for the familiar blue you’ve come to recognize. Your crew sets down the heavy cradle with a groan and stands in the shade as they watch you waddle into the lagoon water. 

“Layla?” You call out. Nothing. “Lady Layla of the Lagoon?” You sing out this time. The water ripples beneath you and you catch a glimpse of her tail. You follow it with your eyes until she pops up again. 

“I like the new title,” She smiles at you and her ear fins twitch with giddy. “Who are they?” She asks as soon as she sees your entourage behind you, her smile dropping. Layla was tense, ready to dive back into the waters. 

You stand between her and your crew, blocking her sight from them. “They’re with me, we didn’t bring weapons,” You say quickly. 

She visibly relaxes at your words but leans her body to the side to take another look at them. “Then why are they here?”

“We’re here to take you home,” You say with a low voice, in case any non-human entities were listening in on your conversation. You turn to your crew once more and motion to them to come closer with the glass cradle. “It’s seawater, can I put you in it?” You ask Layla as you explain the simple plan to her. 

She looks between you and the glass container, then back at you and nods. Words fail her as she reaches her arms towards you. She was heavier than you expected, the weight of her tail and the water that clung to her was not a part of your calculations. 

Layla wraps her arms around your neck as you hoist her out of the waters. Her squirming made it harder to carry her, but the smile she had on her face made it all worth it. Her tail was, well, slimy wouldn’t be the right word to use. It was certainly slippery, but it ran smoothly against your bare forearms like silk from the ports of China. 

When you get close enough to the glass tub, she leaps from your arms and settles in. Layla is still smiling and looks around with curiosity as the group begins to march towards the sea. Every now and then you would turn around and check on Layla. Her emotions were understandable, if you had to be landlocked for 17 months, you would go crazy as well. How you did so before your time as a pirate is still a mystery to you. 

Your thoughts briefly go to where you used to call home, in a large mansion far away from the port. It was full of stuffy dresses and strict manners. What you could say, or couldn’t say, how you should treat others based on their rank, and how they would affect your family. 

You think of your older brother who died serving the navy and how his death caused you to be the sole reason why your father ordered an arranged marriage for you. If not only to maintain your status as a noble lady of the state but also to secure you a future when he was no longer around. 

What would he think of you now? Plundering the seven seas, being chased by a deity older than the sea goddess herself? 

“What will you do first when you return to sea?” You ask Layla as a distraction. 

“Find my sisters, of course,” She says. “Or find what remains of them. Either way, I will be home, and severely have I missed it.” Layla tilts her head to the sky and takes in a deep breath. “Can you smell the sea? That salty brine?” She squeals, flicking her tail excitedly, ignoring how the water splashes out of the tub. 

The sun begins to dip by the time you’ve reached the beach, painting the water gold. You watch as the waves crash into each other, creating ripples and sparkles in the sea. The ocean looked like the surface of the rarest gem. 

“Ready?” You ask Layla, resting your arms on the edge of the glass tub. 

She nods once more and reaches out for you. You transport her into your arms once again, this time more prepared for the weight shift. Your footsteps grow heavy into the soft sand as you match towards the sea. 

Layla’s ear fins shimmy against your cheek, tickling you as the two of you get closer to the sea. You wade into the water, the salty spray of the ocean sticking to your clothes and hair the deeper you went. When you were chest deep you lowered the mermaid into the waters. 

Layla leaves your arms gracefully and sighs, taking a deep breath underwater as the salt filters through her gills. She does a few experimental circles around your feet, her colors grow into a deeper, more vibrant blue in her natural habitat. Layla resurfaces with a blue conch shell that was the same color as her fins. Her smile has yet to falter and only grows bigger by the minute. 

“Have this,” She says as she hands you the iridescent shell. “Blow into it when you need my help. Even in your most perilous circumstances, I will hear it no matter where I am.” Her words begin to tremble on her lips.

Cautiously she reaches for your waist, grabbing at the small glass vile you had hanging on your leather belt. She brings the vile to the edge of her eyes and when she blinks, a tear falls slowly into the vile. It shines in the dusk light before she re-corks it, keeping it safe.

“This is the happiest day of my life, so really I must thank you for what you have done, Captain Fortune,” She whispers slowly as she carefully turns the vile in her webbed fingers.

She watches as her tear rolls around in the long tube before she hands it back to you. Your fingers linger over hers when she gives it back and you pull yourself closer to her. 

“Thank you, Layla.” You bring your lips to her cheek and kiss her goodbye, tasting the salt on her skin. Layla hums at the warmth before she pulls away first. 

She stays quiet for a moment, the two of you enjoying the small moment of peace. "What are your thoughts, Layla?" You probe.

“Whatever you may use my tear for, do so without guilt. It was given lovingly. I will never forget you.” She doesn’t wait for a response before she dives deeper into the sea. It’s not long before you see her jump out of the water, her hair and tail flying in the wind with a spray of water as a final goodbye. 

The map changes a month after Layla’s departure, its scribbles and instructions mix and realign themselves for the next item. Though, you wished it didn’t considering the new instructions were nothing more than vague words and instructions. 

“When the storm brews and the heavens roar, prepare your vessel of wood and of glass, forged in the heart of a dying star will you find the sizzle of light.” You reread the instructions with a frown. Your eyes scan the words over and over until you think you’ve forgotten how to read. You close the map with a sigh and stick it back in your pants pocket. 

Despite the unforgiving temperature of the tropics, the tear never evaporates in your vile. Occasionally, like today, you would stare at the tear, watching it glimmer in the rising sun when the rest of the ship was asleep. Her lullaby haunts the back of your mind, the humming seeming to echo across the vastness of the calm ocean. The Dream King has yet to come for you for what you have done, something that you took as a good sign. 

A rumble in the distance shakes you from your thoughts. You refasten the vile to your belt, next to where Layla’s conch shell rested. The wind picks up and whips your hair around like crazy tentacles. Approaching fast on the horizon were gray and angry storm clouds. Thunder booms and lightning cracks across the dark blanket of doom. 

Your ship was ahead of it, for now. The smell of ozone and petrichor is strong in your nose as you turn and start ringing the bell to wake up your group of misfit miscreants. 

“Lower the sails, let’s outrun this storm, Mr. Theo,” You told your first mate as you took to the wheel. 

Theo repeats your orders to the awaiting crew below you and they begin to scramble about. The sails lower, their dark blue colors turning black in the absence of light. Doors were being shut and cannons tied to the ship. 

The storm grows fast, and even with the help of the northern wind full in your sails, rainwater begins to belt down on you. Your blouse did little to protect your skin from the harsh raindrops. Still, you steered with shielded eyes. A few of your crew decided to go below deck, only you, Theo, and a few more daring pirates decided to stay above and help maintain the ship.

A large wave crashes into your ship, jolting the vessel relentlessly. For a moment, your fingers slip from the prongs along the wheel, but you’re quick to regain your feet and hands. The winds and waves leave you at the whims of Mother Nature. Each time you try to recourse your ship, the wheel resists you. 

The storm was right above you now, ripping large gashes into your sails. It would be too dangerous to pull them up by now, you can only hope for the best. Lightning briefly cracks across the sky and gives light to your next issue. 

Your ship starts to circle in the open sea and you realize with a dry throat that you were stuck in a whirlpool. No matter how much you try to shift course, the will of the sea did not listen to your commands. 

“Shit! Fuck! Goddamn it!” You cuss all known cuss words under the sun and then some more. 

Your cussing grows louder as the wheel splits off its pole and the last bit of your resistance is lost. Screams were heard around you as the wooden vessel flung straight into the vortex. Each person on your crew flashes behind your eyes as your body slams into the ship's walls. You’re trying to regain your breath, instead inhaling rainwater and you’re met with a coughing fit. 

The prongs of Layla’s shell presses deeply into your back and a brief moment of clarity washes over you. Trying to keep your balance on waterlogged boots, you reach the rails of your ship. You pull off the blue shell and press it to your lips.

You blow, hard and long, feeling the low hum vibrating across the shell. You blow again, the thought of blue fins and a mother’s lullaby on your mind. You wish for the safe passage of you and your crew back into calm seas. You wish for Layla.

Another sharp jolt and your wet fingers drop the shell. You cuss again over the raging winds as you bend over to pick it up. One more blow into the shell wouldn’t hurt. Before your fingers could wrap around the shell, the ship tips and you fall into the open sea. 

“Theo!” You scream as your arms flail around you, trying to grab at anything and everything that could help you. 

Your fingers wrap around a stray rope, the twine burning through your skin as you continue to fall. The rain leaves you gripless and even your desperate cry isn’t enough to hold on. 

Falling into rough seas is as good as falling onto wooden floors. When you hit the waters, the air is knocked out of you once more. You’re barely grasping at the concept of consciousness as you’re submitted to the commands of the tides. 

A familiar flash of serene blue crosses your vision and hands grab at your arms. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Layla sobs out near your ear.

She takes a look over her shoulder, but in your losing war with consciousness, you don’t pay much attention. Her powerful tail swims you towards the surface where air fills your lungs immediately. 

Layla swims back underwater before you can thank her. You look around in the storm for your ship or a piece of it to cling onto but all you’re met with is another crashing wave. Sea water enters your nose, the sharpness hits you in the back of the head and you gasp at the intrusion. Water then enters your mouth and you accidentally gulp it down in a growing desperation to breathe. The relentless sea gives you no time to do so as another wave crashes into your body and back underwater you go. 

You brave your eyes open, feeling your body being tugged by the whirlpool. You search for her, for your mermaid, and only find her trying to swim along the currents of the ongoing storm. Something black streaks across your vision and you watch it as it catches up to to Layla. The two swim in circles, the whirlpool growing stronger as the two mercreatures chase each other. 

You squint in the low visibility of the water and a familiar pale body and slicked-back black hair meets you. He pauses his chase for a moment, sensing your stare at him and he looks back. Dream’s eyes are gone, and in its place a void of black. He frowns when he sees you, his tail flicking in annoyance at your interruption. 

Dream closes his eyes and you see his gills take in a deep breath before he returns to chasing after Layla. You watch helplessly as his arms ensnare around her waist. She fights back with the last of her strength, but having used most of it helping you and swimming away from your aforementioned “lover”, she loses the battle quickly. 

Dream keeps her in his arms as he dives deeper into the ocean, his black tail disappearing into the depths. The only indication was the small lights that decorated the fins, much like the bioluminescent light you would find on caught anglerfish. You stay for a second longer, your lungs screaming at you for air, but a part of you hopes that you may see the familiar blue come to you again. 

The whirlpool calms and with defeat you swim towards the surface. You’re about to break the surface when hands wrap themselves around you. You briefly feel the silkiness of scales against your skin before you’re launched into the air. The force behind the tail gives you enough air for the two of you to land on your ship.

You cough, water sloughing off your figure like raindrops. The sky had cleared and the sea was calm again, as if nothing just happened. 

“Layla?” You call out, coughing out the last remnants of seawater from your lungs.

“No.” Came your simple answer. 

You turn quickly and meet Dream’s eyes. He’s still in his merman form, sitting on the railing of your ship. Realizing comes to you too quickly and you pathetically search his face for any form of remorse for what he had done. 

“Where is she?” You ask. You feel rage starting to bubble to the surface. Your crew was nowhere to be seen, either hiding under deck or lost to the storm.

“Gone,” Dream answers simply. 

Dream watches as you look around the ship for something. In an attempt to prove his point, he moves his tail, revealing to you what you need to see. Not what you wanted, he knew what you wanted, but you needed to understand the truth, now. 

You’re searching for blue and when Dream moves his tail over, the bioluminescent lights along his fins dim in the sun. His tail was beautiful and a part of you would’ve loved to have admired it, but that familiar blue catches your eyes. 

There was so much blue, shattered and broken into pieces.

You fall to your knees as you scoop up the shattered pieces of Layla’s shell. Your hand curls into fists as you bring it closer to your chest. The pieces cut into your skin and blue mixes with bright red. 

Staring at the mosaic of colors, you're reluctant to let go. To let go of the shell is to let go of her. To let go of the pain is to accept the grief that is to come with her death.

“She’s gone.” It wasn’t a question, it was realization. 

You look at Dream with slightly teary eyes and he doesn’t bother with a response. He gives you one last look before falling backward, diving back into the depths of the ocean. 

♡ Goodbye, Layla

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