#the fic is Consequences Of The Dead btw

[thatofabeavers]

especially when they leave new comments everytime

.

it was me

I am the commenter

I've left (maybe 9?) comments on the same fic because I kept re reading it and kept falling in love with it

I have bound this fic

I have drawn this fic

This is why fandom exists

to fall in love with the community, over and over and over again. To appreciate the source, and to expand and completely disregard it.

people telling you they reread your fic is the biggest compliment you could ever receive. there are thousands of stories out there begging to be found, to be explored, but your story meant so much to someone that they came back to it eagerly, they went over every word again. to love is to return and loving a fic is rereading it. thank you to all readers and rereaders <3333

[anqelbean]

I have many mdzs fanfic ideas (or mxtx in general) that I'll never write because I'm a coward with no time to spare so I'll just share what's supposed to be a 100k fic in my head into a long tumblr post.

So I have been thinking of this tgcf x mdzs crossover for months basically.

You know those AUs where hualian adopt wwx? What if. Hear me out. Wei Wuxian is their actual blood son?

Like. One of the two of them finally took that childbearing pill and popped out little A-Ying, who's basically the first human to be born immortal. Little young master of Ghost City. Little prince of the heavens. Spoiled with love and care by his parents and endless list of uncles and aunts. Crimson red eyes and a bright smile.

So, of course, in this au, his last name wouldn't be Wei, but what if they couldn't decide whose name he should take? I don't think hualian would care much for that anyway, but the realms have different opinions. The heavens want his name to be "Xie Ying" after his godly father, but the ghosts want it to be "Hua Ying" after their king.

So, why not both, you know? The Gods call him "Xie Ying" and the Ghosts call him "Hua Ying".

He grows up a very happy child with incredible parents, beloved in all three realms, by Heaven, Earth and Ghost.

Then, he turns 22, and decides he wants to know what mortality felt like, being the only one in his family to have never experienced it. He asks his parents to grant him the chance to see how it felt to be mortal, at least for a while.

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng take this with a heavy heart, as both of them are incredibly worried over their son. They agree of course, but they make a deal.

It goes like this: A-Ying will be reverted to a 9 year old, and until the day he reaches the same age as he was the day he gained his mortality, he shall not have the memories of his immortal life. He will not remember his fathers, he will not remember how it's like to walk through the golden streets of the heavens, or the colourful ones of Ghsot City. He will not remember his relatives, nor will he remember his friends. He will lose all of them, for 13 years as a mortal.

And so, the little young master is sent to Earth, with no memories nor spiritual power. His parents sent him purposefully on the path of two young newlyweds, who unfortunately couldn't have children. They send word to their friends that they have adopted a child. He gains a third name, one for the Earth to call him, Wei Ying, a normal silver eyed boy.

Then, his mortal parents die, and Wei Ying is alone. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are worried sick as they watch their little boy from afar. Then, while Jiang Fengmian is searching for his da-shixiong's child in Yiling, he spots something quite peculiar.

A butterfly, with wings that seemed as if made of pure silver, looking neither alive nor dead. He decides to follow it, thinking it the will of the heavens.

He finds a young boy, cornered by a pack of stray dogs in an alley. He rescues the boy and asks for his name.

"My name is Wei Ying," The boy bows to him in gratitude. "Thank you for saving me, kind shushu!!"

Jiang Fengmian thinks it the blessing of the heavens.

And so, Wei Ying gains a new family, a kind shushu and an angry madame, a sweet older sister and a grumpy little brother and he couldn't be happier.

So he works hard, he learns how to cultivate, he does everything so that he doesn't disappoint this new, fragile family he has. Soon enough he becomes da-shixiong, just as his adoptive father before him. He even gets a his own sword, one made specifically for him!

(Xie Lian's hands itch to see his son's spiritual weapon, especially since it's a sword, but he cannot help but laugh at the name)

The madame is harsh, but he'll take any punishment if it means keeping his family.

His little brother is often jealous of him, insecure in his standing as heir to their clan, but he still cares for his older brother, even when he is reckless, so Wei Ying tries everything to help his brother with his woes.

His shijie is the best. But she's in love with an idiot. So he needs to protect her. It's the least he can do for her.

His shushu is still as kind as the first day he met him, but he is too harsh on his shidi. He cannot have that, so he tries everything to get him to acknowledge his son.

And then there's Cloud Recesses.

Then there's long black hair and sharp golden eyes. Bright white and soft blue against a moonlit night. An uptight personality and a face he cannot get out of his head. And easily triggered annoyance, an even but deep voice, a natural rule follower. Someone who he can spar with on even ground.

Wei Ying, now Wuxian, has always been smart. He realizes why he wants this boy's eyes and attention to always be directed at him. He wishes he could ignore it. It would be preferable to dreaming of being pressed to a desk at the Library Pavilion by an angry Lan Zhan and being kissed within an inch of his life.

Although not by much, if such a fantasy were to come true.

Then, he punches Jin Zixuan and gets sent home. It's worth it, it's to protect his shijie's honour. But as he says goodbye to Lan Zhan, as he leaves him with two small bunnies, as he sees blush seep into the top of his ears and back of his neck, he thinks he should've been more careful about it.

(As Xie Lian watches his son from afar, he cannot help but chuckle at his son's first love, and thinks that maybe, that Lan Wangji would be a good son-in-law. His husband is not as convinced, protective over his child. Maybe this is how Guoshi felt when he found out about him and Xie Lian.)

When Wei Wuxian sees him again at the archery competition, he feels overjoyed, and, wanting to show off in front of Lan Zhan, wins the competition single handedly, but not before accidentally taking off Lan Zhan's forehead ribbon, and angering him in the process. He really didn't understand what's so serious about it.

(Feng Xin could not be more proud of his nephew for winning in archery, but he does wish he could smack him on the head for not realizing the meaning of his actions. Mu Qing rolls his eyes as his husband's boisterous laughter fills the room.)

Then there's a dark cave and a murderous monster, blood and hunger and wounds. But there's also a kiss, soft, speaking a thousand promises, a song, a sweet melody to lull him to sleep, and the lap of his beloved, supporting his head as he rests and Wei Ying thinks he could happily die like this, in Lan Zhan's arms.

(There's also a brother, who's frantic to return home to get help. There's also a silver butterfly, guiding Jiang Cheng back to the cave, where he finds his brother hurt and battered, sleeping peacefully on Lan Wangji's lap.)

Then. He wakes up alone to the ceiling of his room. He would think it all a dream but his wounds say otherwise. He understands, of course, why Lan Zhan couldn't stay, but oh how he wishes he did.

But then there's fire.

There's fire and a mountain of corpses. There's hands around his neck, and tears falling on his face. There's Zidian, pressed to his brother's palm.

Then there's steady hands cutting him open with precision honed by years of experience. There's pain worse than anything he's ever felt. There's a peak in Yiling, there's a golden spiritual core.

Then there's darkness and resentment. There's spirits around him. He learns to wield it. To bend it to his will, no matter the cost. Asks the spirits of the dead for their bodies, to help his cause. They agree.

But then there's a worried father dressed in red. There's an unplanned reunion. Unplanned memories. Unplanned tears. Unplanned consequences.

Hua Cheng tries everything to save his son from the pain, but even with the knowledge he was given again, his A-Ying, his A-Xian, couldn't stop.

He had loved ones to protect.

(After all, his A-Ying always took after his love)

[cj-ghostemoji-destielpie]

⚠️⚠️⚠️PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS IN THE ABOVE SCREENSHOT BEFORE CONTINUING!!! ⚠️⚠️⚠️

This is my fic btw 💖 it'll only get worse. Chapter two will be posted soon and it's... F-d up.

Royal Tastes, by Dragonborn_Eldenlord on AO3.

Chapter 1: The Young King, The Cannibal Knight, The Dead Knight:

Sir Hannibal Lecter. A knight, ruthless and merciless in his quests. Or hunts, as he calls them.

Hannibal was infamous among many kingdoms as the Cannibal Knight, or Hannibal the Cannibal, that ate his enemies as a show of strength; not a popular habit. Most Knights hated or reluctantly accepted their jobs, but he reveled in the bloodshed. The scars, the agony, the screams, the light fading in his victims eyes, blood gurgling from their mouths or dripping from shallow wounds til they slowly bleed out… He saw beauty in it all.

Hannibal was visiting a kingdom he hadn't visited in a good twenty years or more; the Ophiuchus Kingdom, named after the serpent constellation due to the multiple snakes that infest the forests. Ophiuchus was infamous. The past rulers were known for their vicious and violent tactics, for their greed and gluttony. The only reason Hannibal was coming here in the first place was to and get in the good graces of the new ruler, as they had recently had their coronation if rumors were to be believed.

Walking into the throne room, Hannibal noticed the grandiosity of the palace. The new King is obviously doing some remodeling since there's multiple portraits stacked in a corner, many of which are torn. Hanging on the walls in their place are tapestries, animal hides, and furs, making the throne room have more of an animalistic, wild, and feral vibe.

Hannibal noticed the lack of the King as the throne was momentarily empty but he knelt anyway, the dark gray metal of his armor scraping against the expensive tiled floor; dark inky black tile with gold outlines and occasional intricate designs. He kept his head hung low, and soon he heard the footsteps of who he presumed to be the new King.

“Sir Hannibal Lecter, at your service, my Lord,” He greeted, head still positioned towards the dark ground.

"My apologies, Sir Lecter, but I'm not exactly... Educated on the proper etiquette of societal expectations for how I'm supposed to act and talk so I hope you'll be patient with me. Stand. I'm Lokka La’Rose, new King, blah blah blah. Killed the last King because he was a dick, so on and so forth," Lokka says casually as he perches on the arm of the fancy throne, not even looking at Hannibal as the Knight stands, instead he's briefly frowning in distaste at the gawdy throne before finally looking back at Hannibal with curiosity, golden eyes slowly taking in Hannibal's armor clad body and handsome face.

Hannibal stood, looking at the new King now fully. He seemed young. At least, younger than most rulers. If he's an adult it's just barely. His outfit—well, it lacked any form of royalty. Wearing something like that in court would make him the laughing stock of all the nobles. He's dressed in simple hunter-like garbs; a simple dagger on his hip, faded animal hide trousers and shirt. His curly hair is messy but pulled back in a low ponytail to keep it out of his face.

There's an old ugly scar running across his face that somehow danced between both eyes without harming them. And his eyes are peculiar as well; unnatural gold, reflecting all light, and feline-like with slit pupils.

"No worries, there's nothing wrong with not knowing etiquette. You’ll learn, it’ll feel like second nature in no time at all, Your Highness,” Hannibal studies the scars on the young King's face, "May I ask how you got those?”

"The scar? I was eight years old, a starving orphan, tried stealing from some noble man and he actually noticed and decided to teach me a lesson. Left me with a scar so I'd be reminded of the consequences of theft. Instead it just reminded me of the power imbalance in the Kingdom and the greed of the rich.”

Hannibal stayed silent for a moment, his eyes locked onto the other man. He studied the scar again, as it ran across his face in a jagged line. It had clearly scarred over years ago, but it still looked quite prominent. He knew the old King, and he was a greedy man, for sure. He thought the entire Kingdom was a piece of him to flaunt around. And many of his nobles had the same mentality.

"I see. You didn’t deserve that, child," He said the word in a somewhat condescending tone, though his facial expressions didn’t change from their almost emotionless state.

A small quiet huff of amusement escapes the King, “So, what are you here for? You requested an audience with the King. I know I'm not probably who you expected but I suppose I can still hear your piece and possibly assist.”

Hannibal smirked at his slight amusement, finding the King somewhat amusing. He began to circle around the throne, eyeing the golden details. He then came back to the front of the throne, locking eyes with the young King who'd allowed the Knight to pace and circle around him, looking entirely unthreatened.

"I didn't expect y ou , no," He paused for a moment, "Though I heard that you killed the last King. Tell me, was it worth it?”

Lokka tilts his head in thought, ".... worth it for the people....perhaps not for me though. I didn't want to be King. I just wanted there to be change. But no one else had the power to do it.”

Hannibal nodded slightly, silently admiring his slight vulnerability. He seemed to have thought about it a lot. He crossed his arms behind his back, shifting his weight to one foot. He seemed to look him up and down again before speaking again.

"You did this for the people, not yourself. That’s very admirable, Lord La’Rose.”

"Thank you, but please, just call me Lokka. I'm still not used to that title… and you're interesting enough to keep around and befriend.”

"Very well, Lokka ."

The way Hannibal says the King’s name makes the young King shiver and his cat-like pupils dilate.

Hannibal tilted his head downwards slightly, his arms behind his back casually and nonthreatening but somehow still imposing. The boy seemed somewhat shy, but somewhat confident, at least for speaking to a Knight that was feared by many for his bloodthirsty killing. He took a few steps closer to the throne.

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?”

“17,” The young King states simply.

Hannibal nodded as an indication of acknowledgement, slightly impressed that he had managed to kill a man—let alone a King—at that age. There was clearly a lot of determination and courage, perhaps some foolish bravery as well. He took another few steps, now being a few feet away from the throne.

"Ah. Young and full of life," He teases.

Lokka gives a small playful smirk, "I've heard of you, Sir Lecter. Hannibal the Cannibal . The Cannibal Knight . Are you here to add another man to your diet or are you after something else? I'm not easy to kill so I'd think twice if I were you,” His tone isn't threatening, just playful but with a hint of promise.

Hannibal chuckled dryly at Lokka’s comment, his hands still behind his back. Hannibal seemed amused by Lokka, intrigued even. Lokka was a curious thing.

" You're smarter than you look, kid ," He paused for a moment, looking into his odd eyes, before continuing, "And you seem a tad bit cocky for a young Lord.”

“Fake it til you make it," He says with a simple shrug, a hint of insecurity in his strange eyes.

Hannibal chuckled, noting a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He tilted his head to the side, studying him a little closer.

"You're not confident, are you?" He teased him, finding a way to get under the new king’s skin.

Lokka shrugs, unperturbed, “No, I'm not. But I'm stubborn and spiteful so I'm planning on sticking around as King for a long time. At least until I find a suitable heir."

Hannibal hummed in acknowledgement, somewhat impressed by Lokka's determination and stubbornness. He seemed like a boy filled with ambition and power…and yet so vulnerable. So…breakable.

He'll be fun to break . Hannibal thinks to himself with a secret smile.

" And when you find that suitable heir, will you simply pass the throne over to them without a fight?" Hannibal asked, taking a small jab at him.

"I'll train them, have them educated on the life of the nobles and the poor, make sure they have decent morals and a support system, and then I'll peacefully step down, give them the throne when they're ready, and perhaps stick around as an advisor or something if needed.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows raised slightly, impressed by his thought-out plan. He had clearly thought it through for a while, which he respected.

"So you already have a plan in mind, that's quite…ingenious." He paused for a moment, "And you're sure they’ll be fit enough to rule your kingdom?”

"I've no idea. Haven't met a suitable heir yet. Enough about that though. What is it you wished to accomplish with your audience with the King, Sir Lecter?”

Hannibal chuckled at him, slightly amused. Lokka was clearly done talking about the subject for now, which Hannibal was willing to respect. Sometimes you have to play the long game when playing with a new toy you wish to enjoy breaking.

"Ah. Straight to the point. I like you, Lokka." He commented, now towering over the shorter man, "I simply came to offer my services to you—to the kingdom, I mean.”

Lokka gives Hannibal a small playful smile, not bothered at all with Hannibal towering over him- most Kings would've had Hannibal thrown out for the attempt at appearing imposing or threatening, instead Lokka just peers up at Hannibal in amused interest, "You wish to be my knight?" He basically purrs sweetly.

Hannibal found Lokka's lack of fear for him amusing, almost down right hilarious. Most rulers would be intimidated by a man like him, but the boy didn’t even seem slightly bothered by it. Hannibal found it quite interesting.

"Yes, of course," He said, somewhat amused. "I am the best in my field. You’d be unwise to decline my services, kid.”

Lokka chuckles, "Most would be practically begging or at least respectful when offering their services to a King, even a young and naive King enjoys respect instead of being called a kid," Lokka says with a playful smile, casually crossing his legs as he remains perched on the arm of the throne.

Lokka studies Hannibal for a long few moments, golden cat-eyes piercing and intelligent as he takes Hannibal in, like a wild cat studying its prey. Slowly he returns his gaze to Hannibal’s.

"Ask again." He says, a small smirk tugging his lip, “maybe with a pretty please ?" He asks, basically taunting Hannibal.

Hannibal was taken somewhat aback by his request, his eyes widening a slight bit. He had expected him to be polite and shy in his response, not demanding and confident. Hannibal’s smug expression soon faded away, the slight teasing look still in his eyes.

"My apologies," He began, his expression almost blank by now, "I'll be respectful , like you'd like."

He took a deep breath, knowing he was going to hate it.

"May I please be your Knight, Your Majesty, Lokka ?”

Lokka giggles in honest amusement, golden eyes lighting up with joy before he schools his expression.

"hm...no," He says before smiling again. "I'm not going to waste your services as a common Knight. If you'd like to work for me, I'd rather you be my main security. Top knight, Housecarl, or whatever the fancy noble terminology is. I've heard of your skills and I'd love to see them in person. I've had multiple attempts on my life within just a week so I imagine you'll get a chance to prove yourself interesting . If you grow bored of being a bodyguard, then I suppose I can send you out to play with the other Knights. Does that sound appealing enough to you, Sir Hannibal Lecter ?”

Hannibal’s eyebrows shot up at Lokka's words, surprised. He was expecting to be a regular Knight of the castle, which was just fine. But security for the King? That was unexpected, but he was very much intrigued by the offer. And it would make it easier to toy with the King and slowly break him.

"That sounds very appealing," He commented, his smirk returning once again, "I agree to those terms.”

"Good. Splendid. Hope you don't mind explaining the seemingly stupid noble jargon the people here keep expecting me to understand. Do you understand the purpose of so many forks for one meal?" He asks, tone switching from the teasing playful to genuinely open and curious

He chuckled at his question, amused by the King’s clear lack of knowledge of the social rules.

"Of course. And I know the noble jargon.” He explained. "And it’s stupid, honestly. There’s so many rules for a simple meal. A commoner would eat an entire turkey with their hands, while Kings and Queens have to use specific forks and spoons for specific items of a meal. And don’t even dare to use your hands; you’ll be chastised by the etiquette police.”

The King sighs dramatically as he lays across the throne, "Everything has so many ridiculous rules and yet the commoners are more concerned with surviving, which is more understandable. Why so many forks when hands work just fine? It's stupid…”

"I think I'm going to like you, Sir Lecter." The young King says, rolling his head where he lays across the throne to look up at Hannibal.

"Perhaps I may say the same," Hannibal replied, an amused smile tugging at his lips. He studied him for a moment, admiring his confidence, especially for a young king like him.

“ Goddesses ! I need to get rid of this throne !" He jumps off of it dramatically, a good three feet in the air before landing on his feet in a squat like a feral cat before slowly standing like a normal human, "that thing is so ridiculously uncomfortable. And such an eyesore . Like, we get it! This is a throne! But if you're going to show off wealth you may as well use it for something comfortable . Especially if you're expected to sit in the evil thing for days on end and play nice with other nobility.”

Hannibal was surprised by Lokka's sudden outburst and unexpected agility as he jumped from his throne, not expecting him to be nearly as physically adept as he was for a King or a human. He let out a dry chuckle as he stood next to him.

"Most nobles and royalty don’t care about what’s comfortable. They just care about what looks good and makes them look better than everyone else," Hannibal replied dryly.

Lokka huffs and crosses his arms, glaring at the throne like a petulant child who was just told that he has to eat his veggies before dessert, “Well I'm not most kings. If I could have that replaced with a recliner I would... I suppose I'll just settle for having this fancy throne melted down to coins and donated to the commoners, maybe the orphanage. Then I'll just feckin' carve a nice throne from some cherry wood perhaps and get some nice comfy- but I suppose fancy fabric- cushions to line it with."

Hannibal chuckled at Lokka's…rant, finding his determination for a more comfortable throne quite amusing. He tilted his head to the side, studying the younger man.

"A cherry wood chair," He repeated, a single brow quirked, "With plush velvet cushions," He added dryly with a slight tone of mockery. He was clearly holding back his laughter.

The King huffs and throws his hands in the air with dramatic exasperation "Ye have better design ideas, Sir Lecter?”

Hannibal let out a few dry chuckles at his dramatic actions before replying with a smirk.

"Maybe. I was thinking something a little more… aesthetic ," He said, thinking over the design in his mind, "Dark oak. Gold or a dark material for the trimmings. Soft light fur as a cushioning.”

"....I might actually be able to work with that...I'll sketch something up and have you look it over,” the King says after actually seeming to seriously be pondering over Hannibal's words.

Hannibal hummed, finding him quite amusing. Who would’ve thought a newly crowned King would ask for his input on a throne design of all things? Hannibal had to hold back his smirk at Lokka's eagerness.

“Of course. I’ll look it over once you have it sketched up, Lokka.”

"....so," Lokka clasps his hands and rocks slightly in place, "I'm supposed to play nice and be all Kingly for a few more hours today. One of the servants told me that there were a couple different knights and messengers from different kingdoms coming today- aside from you. I was even warned that at least one messenger is going to try and get me to marry some King's daughter from a neighboring kingdom," he says, looking disgusted but hides it mostly, "Are you ready to play advisor/bodyguard today or do you wish to have a servant show you to your new quarters and start tomorrow?”

Hannibal could sense Lokka's disgust in his voice and almost chuckled but contained himself. It seemed he disliked the prospect of having to listen to someone ask him to marry someone’s daughter for political purposes. He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

"I’m quite ready. And if any messenger does decide to try to convince you to marry an ugly daughter, I’ll be your bodyguard and advisor.”

"I'm not concerned with their looks , I'm just opposed to marrying some girl I don't know nor wish to know ," He says simply, reluctantly sitting back on the throne, though properly this time. He glances at the grand fancy clock across the throne room, "The next person should be here soon. Don't remember if it's a knight or some noble, or a messenger though.”

Hannibal watched as Lokka sat back down on the throne, this time properly. He still found the throne to be a little gaudy looking, no amount of proper sitting would change that. He took a few steps closer to the throne, positioning himself on the right side of him.

"Well, whoever this next person may be, I’ll be right here," He replied, referring to his position beside Lokka.

Lokka gives Hannibal a small smile, "Good boy," He says playfully, but praising, and before Hannibal can snark or react, a servant enters and announces the arrival of another visitor; another Knight.

Hannibal’s smirk quickly faded in surprise with Lokka's playful praise, his cheeks taking on a slight red hue. He was not expecting him to say that, but he quickly shook it off. He refocused his attention back towards the entrance to the throne room as the servant announced the arrival of another Knight. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the Knight carefully for his mannerisms.

The Knight was mature in age, probably around Hannibal’s age. His armor was shiny and well-polished; he's probably rather stuffy and hasn't actually seen many battles. He entered the room rather arrogantly—like most Knights were—and began to speak in an overly cocky tone.

“Your majesty, I am Sir Charles,” The Knight said, standing in the middle of the room, not bothering to take a knee or bow or show any respect, making Hannibal curl his lip in distaste.

Lokka tilts his head, studying the man, "Sir Charles... I'm Lord La'Rose. What have you come here to ask of the new King of Ophiuchus?" Lokka asks, all previous playful energy gone, in his place is now a serious calm intelligent King.

Hannibal noticed that Lokka even used his title this time, instead of being casual like Lokka had been with him. The change was sudden. Happened as soon as Sir Charles entered, only a brief moment of Lokka sniffing the air prerequisites his personality shift when Sir Charles entered.

Sir Charles was taken aback by Lokka's sudden and unexpected shift into a completely different person. From a giddy, happy, young King to a stoic, serious individual in a matter of seconds. He paused for a moment, almost intimidated by the change, but eventually responded.

"Well, your majesty, I have come to… congratulate you.” He replied, the word ‘congratulate’ sounding almost bitter coming from his lips.

"hmmm... Is that so? You could've just sent some gift like most of the others singing my praises lately," Lokka doesn't sound cocky despite his words, he actually seems uncomfortable with the thought of being praised for what he'd done, "So, what else is it you wanted from me, Sir Charles, aside from wasting my time?”

Sir Charles was once again taken aback, clearly not expecting the King to brush off his praise and assume he was just there to waste his time. He stood silently for a few moments, almost shocked, before speaking up again.

“I wasn’t just here to give my congratulations, your majesty.” He replied, his tone somewhat snarky and somewhat irritated now. “I also came to request something.”

"speak, no need to dawdle.” Lokka says when Sir Charles doesn't get straight to the point, making Hannibal fight a proud smirk.

Sir Charles let out a snort, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a few steps closer to the King.

“If you’d be so kind, Your Majesty, I was hoping you’d send a few of your troops to help us in a little battle we’re having.” He explained, the tone in his voice still demanding.

"A little battle?" Lokka asks, a single brow raised, "Why? Plead your case, Sir Charles.”

Sir Charles let out another snort, his arrogance seemingly taking control as he spoke again.

“My kingdom has been at war for over a year now. We just lost a significant amount of soldiers and are requesting backup.” He said, as if the reason was obvious and simple. “It would be immensely appreciated if you would send whatever soldiers you can spare.”

"...you have yet to explain why you're even at war or why I should be inclined to help. Perhaps I'd rather help your enemies, hm? What say ye to that?"

Sir Charles stood silent, shocked, for a few moments. The arrogance on his face now faded into disbelief. Obviously, he hadn’t expected the King to be so indifferent and ask for a reason to send soldiers to help.

“The reason for our war…” He repeated, “Why- the reason is…”

He paused for another moment, trying to come up with a reasonable response on why they were at war and why they needed his help. A good reason. One that wasn't seeped in greed.

Lokka chuckles, darkly, in amusement, before speaking with a light disturbingly kind tone despite his words, "Give me a good reason, Sir Charles, before I send you back to your King without a head.”

Sir Charles almost staggered backward in shock, horrified by the King's response. His dark amusement and the threat of beheading him if he can’t come up with a good reason was enough to nearly make Sir Charles piss in his armor, but he managed to stay composed. Mostly. He swallowed thickly before replying again.

“We’ve been at war with our neighboring kingdom for years now. A war we can’t win without you. If you do not help, Your Majesty…” He paused once again, his voice wavering slightly, “We will be overtaken and lost.”

"Still," Lokka says, casually standing from his throne, and slowly walking down the steps of the platform to the main part of the throne room, gesturing with one hand casually for Hannibal to stay, back for now, "You've yet to explain why you're at war. Just that you are and that you're losing." Lokka's tone softens to an almost teasing seductive tone as he nears Sir Charles and raises a hand to gently caress the taller older man's cheek and tilts his gaze to meet his eyes, "so... Explain to me, Sir," Lokka practically purrs, "why," he traces his fingers over the Knight's pulse point, "you need me?”

Sir Charles froze as the King suddenly approached him, his hand gently caressing his cheek and moving his head to face him. The sudden shift in his tone and attitude to something more seductive and playful shocked him, his heart almost stopping as he felt his slender fingers tracing over his pulse point.

He inhaled deeply, unable to find the words to respond. His words got caught in his throat, but he eventually began speaking despite the dryness in his throat.

“I- We…” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"ooh, has a cat got your tongue?”

Sir Charles tensed his shoulders, his cheeks turning a slight pink at his words. It didn’t help that Lokka was so close to him, his slender but firm and calloused fingers still gently caressing his pulse point. Sir Charles swallowed again, his words stuck in his throat like a frog for a few moments.

“N-no.” He managed to stutter out, cursing himself for stuttering like a boy with a middle school crush.

The King chuckles playfully, dancing around behind the large Knight and draping his arms over the man's shoulders from behind, wrapping his arms around the man's neck and resting his hands teasingly on the man's chest armor.

"hmmm..." Lokka hums in thought, glancing over to Hannibal, "Sir Hannibal, what do you know of Sir Charles and his Kingdom?”

Sir Charles tensed more as the King began to dance around him, jumping slightly as he suddenly draped his arms over his shoulders. He immediately tried to look at whatever Hannibal’s reaction was to the King’s action, his stomach twisting into knots at the King’s forward and almost…flirtatious behavior.

Hannibal’s eyes remained fixated on the pair, his head tilted to the side observing the King’s behavior, and Sir Charles’ reaction. He noted his tension and how he seemed almost afraid of the small young King.

The boy continues to surprise me…

"Don't tell me a cat's got your tongue too now, Sir Hannibal," the young King calls out playfully to his Advisor and Knight, "Do you know of Sir Charles or his Kingdom? Feel free to speak your mind, Sir Hannibal.”

Hannibal’s eyes flicked over to the King as soon as he spoke up, his eyes narrowing for a moment before his normal, calm demeanor returned to him. He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised with the King’s almost childish behavior. He took no issue with it, it was almost…endearing…

Hannibal glanced back at Charles for a moment, observing his behavior further, before speaking up in his usual polite but crisp and composed tone.

“I know of his kingdom and his cause. I also know of his king.”

"Hmm," Lokka hums, teasingly nuzzling his face into Sir Charles' neck from behind, though from where Hannibal stands, Hannibal can see the way Lokka curls his nose in disgust at whatever he smells, or just disgust for the Knight Sir Charles in general.

“Continue to speak your thoughts, Sir Hannibal. What's your opinion? Since you know of him and his King. Should we help them? Why are they in a war?”

Hannibal noticed the way the King’s nose curled in disgust as he nuzzled into the Knight’s neck. That was interesting. Clearly, there was more going on than a simple plea for help. Hannibal kept that thought in the back of his mind for now as he continued to speak up.

“They’re at war with their neighboring kingdom because of a fight over land.” He explained, “Their King wants to expand his kingdom and is willing to take it by any means necessary, even if it means going to war.”

"Hmm...." Lokka hums, tracing his hands teasingly in a sexual manner over Sir Charles chest armor from behind as he continues to nose Sir Charles' neck, "pathetic," he hisses out before suddenly biting down and tearing into Sir Charles' neck, tearing out a large chunk of his flesh and causing blood to gush from his artery.

Sir Charles drops dead to the ground, a few brief gurgling noises before he dies. Lokka is now covered in Sir Charles' blood but looks unbothered. More annoyed with the blood on the beautiful tile throne room floor than anything else.

Lokka whistles out a sharp note and a servant enters.

"Maria, darling,” Lokka says sweetly, almost apologetic, and it seems genuine, “Can you have the gardener get rid of this one like they did with the King? You and the servants may sell or keep whatever he has on him. I'll need someone to clean this blood out of the floor. Again."

Hannibal’s eyes widened in utter shock the moment the young King suddenly bit the Knight’s neck. He stood speechless for a few moments, unable to speak or form any words or coherent thought. Everything about this moment was so…unexpected..

And strangely attractive.

Hannibal watched as the King called in a servant named Maria, almost stunned as he listened to what the pair said. He was still trying to process what just happened, and it almost felt like he was dreaming.

Maria nods and quickly fetches a few other servants. Soon the dead Knight is gone- a handsome but awkward looking man, the gardener presumably, fetching the body and carrying it out- and there's a servant cleaning the blood up. Lokka walks slowly back up to the throne and stops a few feet in front of you.

"Do you still want this job?" Lokka asks, unknowingly licking the blood on his lips.

Lokka's mouth, jaw, neck, and the front of his shirt is soaked in blood from Sir Charles.

"I promise to play nice and let you leave without harm if your answer is no. Though I will be sad if you do choose to leave.”

Hannibal’s eyes remained fixated on the bloody, almost gorey scene before him, unable to tear his eyes away from the blood on the floor.

He stayed silent for a few moments as he finally registered his question to him, his eyes snapping up to meet his gaze. His usual stoic features were now replaced with slight shock and awe. He wasn’t sure how to feel about any of this, it was all so…unexpected…

“I…I do still want the job, Your Majesty.” Hannibal says with a small stutter, surprising even himself. It's not fear though that makes him stutter. Something about the way Lokka looks with blood dripping from his chin is just… delicious. Maddeningly so.

"hmm... Very well then," Lokka turns and looks back at the servant currently cleaning the floor, "Maria? Sir Hannibal and I will be gone for a few minutes. If any guest comes, please apologize for the wait and have them guided to... I don't know where, just somewhere nice and keep them entertained and fed til I return. Understood, doll?”

Maria, a young, brown-haired, and freckled servant, looked up as the King addressed her. She paused for half a second before nodding her head. She didn't seem afraid of him despite the gore and violence.

“Understood, Your Majesty. Will do.” she says simply.

"Good." Lokka says with a soft smile to the girl, though the blood on him ruins the attempt at a kind image.

He turns and gestures for Hannibal to follow as he leaves the throne room and heads for his private chambers.

They're not the original King's Chambers- far too casual and not as overly decorated. There's still nice furniture and a sitting area but it's also decorated with multiple books filled with notes and scribbles in the margins, animal hides and leathers tossed everywhere, half finished crochet and wood carvings and leatherworking projects everywhere.

Lokka leads Hannibal in and practically ignores his presence as he goes to his wardrobe and pulls out a nicer but still not exactly Kingly clothes; simple black pants and a long sleeve black shirt. He changes and washes the blood from his face at the water basin before finally turning to look at Hannibal, not caring that he'd stripped down to his boxers and undershirt in front of the other man since the boxers and undershirt hid the parts of himself he likes to keep hidden from everyone who doesn't need to know his secret.

"So, any opinions or questions as to why I killed that Knight? You're allowed to speak freely. I won't give you the same side of me I gave him.”

Hannibal took the invitation to speak his mind, taking a moment to properly organize his thoughts before beginning to speak.

“You’ve clearly got a distaste for people who you see as weak, a person like the late Knight.” He began, keeping his voice and tone calm, and his words precise and careful to avoid sounding disrespectful. “Perhaps the Knight said something, or you simply got…fed up with him.”

The King chuckles softly, "hm, good theory but not quite, Sir Hannibal," He says as he sits on one of the couches in the sitting area of his private chambers, "I was going to kill him the moment I smelled him- I'm not a normal human if you haven't noticed yet."

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he fully assessed the king now, taking in his unnaturally keen sense of smell. This kid was far more than he seemed. He slowly walked over to the same couch and sat down a few feet away, keeping his usual polite composure still.

“You’re a werecat.”

Hannibal stated, not asking but saying it like it was factual.

“Precisely," the King says with a chuckle.

This was a very interesting development, to say the least. Werecats were relatively rare. Hannibal noted that Lokka's eyes resembled that of a cat. Sharp, unwavering, and almost predatory in a way.

“I assume you could smell that he was a coward…” Hannibal mused out loud, pausing for a moment as he noted more differences about the King.

“I did not kill him for his cowardice. But rather what I smelled on him- what he'd done- before he'd dirtied my Kingdom with his presence."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, intrigued to know what he smelled on him. He never would’ve expected such a young king to be so…violent. The death was so vicious and sudden, and not to mention messy. And it was all over a particular scent.

But God, was it beautiful…

“What did you smell on him?” Hannibal questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him.

A murderous snarl tugs Lokka's lip, but not at Hannibal, rather the Knight he'd killed, "He smelled of children, suffering children, at least two. Two whose scents were far too different from his to have been his offspring. And scents that reeked of fear and pain. He'd harmed them. I dare not dwell in what ways."

Hannibal’s eyes momentarily darkened as he listened to the kid’s reply. Child abuse, a particular weakness of his. His hatred for it was almost as strong as his cannibalism.

For a split second, Hannibal suddenly felt a pang of…admiration. The kid had a sense of justice, in a way. A strange moral sense of delivering justice but still. He wasn’t a normal royal, that’s for sure.

“Is that why you killed him the way you did?” He questioned, masking his previous internal admiration and remaining composed and polite.

"Yes.”

Hannibal didn’t know how to feel about the King being so…unapologetic and straightforward about his violence, yet he found it almost refreshing and…charming. Usually, nobles danced and tiptoed around the subject and acted disgusted or horrified when acts like this were brought up.

“A brutal, yet justified death.” Hannibal muttered under his breath, speaking his thoughts out loud by accident.

"I'm glad you think so," Lokka says softly, head tilted slightly as he looks up at Hannibal.

Hannibal noticed his head tilt, taking in the small action further. He couldn’t help but find it…cute. The little King was clearly not an ordinary King, especially for his age. He was young, wild, and violent, and yet there was an almost endearing quality to him. Almost like that of a small, feral creature.

Hannibal's eyes drifted to the King's lips.

Soft and stained a faint red from the blood that he'd just washed off.

Lips that had parted to kill a man.

Lethal but beautiful lips that Hannibal wants to-

------

The gif of Hannibal covered in blood belongs to @bloodydancy ☮��💖

[lovemybluebully]

Masterlist

Thought maybe I oughta make one of these pinned posts so people can find my fics easier. 😁 They are all tickle fics btw so if you don't like that kind of thing then this is not the blog for you. lol They are of the SFW variety though.

Currently obsessed with Deadpool and Wolverine.

Just gonna list my new DP/W fics here below the cut and then put a link to the page with all my other fics. 😎

Listing newest fics at the top here.

All Hail Queen Bea! - After a comment from Logan induces some ticklish consequences, Wade finally gets the confirmation about his friend that he suspected all along. Deadpool and Wolverine-verse M/M

Wakey Wakey - Wade gets Logan out of bed in the best way possible. 🤭 Deadpool and Wolverine-verse M/M

It's For Science - Wade gets it into his head that maybe not all humans have the same number of rib bones. His logic being that since Logan has a shorter body then he may be an exception. Unfortunately for Logan this is far too ticklish of an experiment for him to bear. A small bit of ticklish!deadpool at the end too. Deadpool and Wolverine-verse M/M

Over My Dead Body - Logan just wants to watch the game, but Wade can’t help but mess with him and discovers he’s ticklish in the process. Logan is pissed at first, but eventually comes to terms with the benefits and has a life altering epiphany. Deadpool and Wolverine-verse M/M

A Small Lapse of Judgement - Logan is adjusting to his new residence in Wade’s apartment. And that includes enduring his countless tickle attacks against him. But then Wolvie decides it’s time for a little payback. Deadpool and Wolverine-verse M/M

How To Pet a Wolverine - Wade makes an irresistible discovery about Logan during their brawl inside the van. Deadpool and Wolverine-verse M/M

Here's the drawing I did of Wade tickling Logan. 🤭 I have other tickle art I've posted on here if you look hard enough. lol

And below is the link to the rest of my fics. All SFW. Mind you some of them are around 10 years old and may not be written that great so proceed at your own risk. lol I mainly wrote for the cartoon/comic versions of X-men (99% being Wolverine lol I love him 🥰), Venom, Punisher and The Wolf Among Us. Got one random Overwatch story in there too.

Tickle Fics Here! All fluffy, SFW stuff.

I have a Deviantart account as well but warning that there is some NSFW stuff I've posted on there over the years. I am an adult woman and do find tickling to be a kink in very specific situations. 90% I don't though, and I just enjoy tickling as a cute, fun, bonding activity between friends and lovers. I'm not gonna link my DA here. If you're interested, I'm sure you'll be able to find it.

[pi-kin-ic]

i have mature content + sexual themes hidden. i should not be seeing yalls hard kink dead dove smut fics in searches (im not even going into fandom tags btw, im a stim blog who looks for stim posts but yall r fucking everywhere). flag + tag ur posts properly. or dont, i ♡ reporting you 💕

seriously tho its fucking insane. "dont like dont read" "just filter it then" IM TRYING LOL BUT YALL REFUSE TO ACTUALLY FLAG UR POSTS AS MATURE / SEXUAL so liek uhm i hope ur blog gets deleted * tucks my hair behind my ear cutely *

its literally not hard to add community labels and i know yall are aware of that feature bc ive never posted anything like that and tumblr still spams me with the 'add community label?' popup half tha tiem i try to post anything

you cannot be all "dont liek dont read" while actively making it harder for people to get away from ur posts. "just block me then" i can have and will continue to block but the saturation of yall in tags is insane and blocking you AFTER ive seen something triggering does little to help the fact that youve already upset me

also imagine saying 'minors dni' on an explicit post that you didnt bother to mark as mature content. im not a minor but its still insane to me like how are you going to say 'adults only, minors dni !!' and then not take the very simple step of toggling a single button to make it harder for minors to interact with you. its because you dont actually care if minors interact and you just want to be able to say "well i SAID minors dni"

if people actually used the proper features that would allow me to filter out their content i wouldn't have to report them, nor would i see them in the first place 🤷🏽 oh well

from the bottom of my heart i hope that ppl who dont flag their shit get their blogs deleted. block me if u want this isnt my main and i will continue to report yall every time i see you. ur breaking tumblrs terms of service lol eat the consequences of yr actions

[virtu4l-archieve]

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ☆

fixed and consequent || fallen

chapter: 1

tags: post-canon, stanford era dean with a twist, castiel is a proud graduate of winchesters school of grifting

dean winchester is 26, has a dead dad and a deadbeat mom, and is lonely as all hell. he does not have time for this bullshit.

strandlines || aeli_kindara

chapters: 4

tags: preseries!dean, s4.cas, cas pov, john winchester's a+ parenting, stanford era.

it's september 18, 2008. castiel is being deployed to rescue dean winchester from hell. he lands in dean winchester's motel room in 2003. things go from there.

but i ain’t dead yet || alovelyhorror

chapters: 10

tags: two deans one cas, multiple pov, time travel, timeline shenanigans, mutual pining, cas would fall in love with any and every verison of dean btw, dean has self esteem issues

it would’ve been nice to have had the angel’s healing mojo in the past to help with saving everyone else—all of the people they hadn’t been able to save. in particular, he can’t stop thinking about layla. the woman who should’ve been chosen instead of him. angels can do more than just heal people-they can travel back in time too.

psalm 40:2 || unicornpoe

chapters: 7

tags: preseries!dean, s15!cas, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, internalized homophobia.

dean meets an angel who says he's from the future. It all gets a lot more complicated from there.

drift || deanRH

chapters: 15

tags: roadtrips, strangers to lovers, existential angst, drifter!dean

dean drifts, alone. or maybe not.

a turn of the earth || microcomets

chapters: 18

tags: preseries!dean, s10!cas, dean is so fucking lonely, time travel, slow burn, mutual pining.

castiel gets stuck in dean's timeline preseries and dean kind of hates it -until he doesn't.

how (thanks to gabriel) dean and castiel (accidently) raised eachother (and sam) || vee

chapters: 21

tags: weenchester, kid, dreams, growing up, au

in which, gabriel meddles with the time line and castiel becomes dean's angel rather sooner than intended.

heard from your mother (she doesn’t recognize you) || rupertgayes

chapters: 50

tags: pre!canon, post!canon, preseries!dean, slow burn, case fic, john winchester a+ parenting, dean’s hot girl summer

cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things: supernatural creatures exist and he has to stop them from hurting innocent people, he has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; he keeps running into another hunter named dean winchester, who must be as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

[marytunno]

-read below-

premise: Now I know why a book hasn’t come out in 13 years… just thinking about everything gave me a huge headache. I wanted to have some coherence in this small fic and study all the loose ends after Affc seeing what things in Adwd could have happened in the 5 years and so on and my brain exploded, this gap solves some problems but creates some huge holes everywhere… thank god I’m not Grrm… Generally speaking, I think that Arya would have grown up in the Fm but having serious problems about forgetting who she is (killing the deserter, Raff, the dreams ecc…), her being disobedient would have caused her a lot of problems… I have to be sincere, I'm not the biggest fan of the Fm… cool secret assassins? creepy cult of death? not for me… please let’s just explore and make friends in Braavos it’s colorful and so full of interesting people!! or let’s go back frolicking in the woods with the brotherhood… Anyway I’m very conflicted about Arya keeping or not the abilities she learned with the Fm… they are useful and would be cool for some plot twists and stuff… but I really hope she stays Arya and doesn’t become “no one” and if she stays herself it would be wrong for her to have the powers of a faceless man… Btw if my baby Arya ends up losing herself forever I’ll cry. I think it would have been cool in the 5 year gap if she got involved with Dany and consequently reached Westeros with her… but I don’t know how it could happen… In my head her arc will take her to face Lady Stoneheart, unite with Nymeria and her Pack, fight alongside Jon (if he fucking wakes up, it’s been 84 years George plis)... I see her as someone that will really care about the smallfolk and be a good “guide”… I think the main difference between what will happen in the next books and the 5 year skip is just that now Arya will be still young and her training with the faceless men will be rushed… she’ll be like barely around 13 I think when leaving braavos instead of being at least around 16/17 so probably too young for whatever Grrm will make her do anyway. Btw i feel like the time that has passed since the beginning Agot is like ten years and it’s just been like three or something… soo much happens to these poor characters help After this rambling premise expect a very cute and fluffy fanfiction… I’ll try to stay coherent to the books as much as I can but… it is what it is…

THERE IT GOES

At some point they had met again, while an endless winter had turned the world into a silent and unwelcoming land, she had been travelling, northbound, a pack of wolves in tow. Relentless, riding a she-wolf huge as a horse, howling under the starless sky, cold wind guiding her home.

The brotherhood had stayed… their merciless leader, thirsty for justice and blood… When winter had come some had fled south, some had left hunting for food, for survival but most had stayed, he had, hunting for men: Frey, Lannister, Bolton men… hundreds of bodies hanging lulled by the wind, frostbite erasing their faces.

The brotherhood had attacked her, unaware that Arya Stark of Winterfell was hidden under her cloak, their torches reflecting in the wolves' eyes. 

As they crossed swords, well sword and hammer, he noticed the familiar blade: Needle, a sharp pain and the sound of his nose breaking had brought him back from his thoughts. 

- Arya?- 

Her name, it had been so long since someone had called her name. 

He had been the first to join her, kneeling in the snow, swearing his loyalty to her, asking her to let him follow her, fight for her… her brother needed men to fight against the dead and so Arya agreed. 

An army of wolves and outlaws now followed her north, a righteous leader now guiding them… a Stark. 

At first it had been had, after all the time they had spent apart, deep silence, long stares and quick glances: her long braid, his broad shoulders, building from the ashes what had been between them. 

Slowly the silence had turned into small conversations and blossomed into nights spent talking about the past, Arya’s adventures in Braavos, what had become of the Brotherhood… cold gazes turning into warm smiles, learning to be friends again.

Something unspoken, something different this time, something new and probably dangerous but something they both felt and so they decided to let it happen. 

Arya understood what the feeling in her belly, the flutter in her chest meant, she also understood that the way Gendry looked at her, his hands playing absently with her hair, his eyes following her, his scowl melting into a smile every time she was around, she understood it meant something. 

Arya definitely wasn’t a coward and was quite aware that wasting time while the world was slowly ending under the unstoppable ice crawling its way south was stupid, so she decided to take the matter into her own hands. 

Nymeria and her pack had been hunting, the men resting inside of the ruins of what once had been a great holdfast, Gendry’s turn to tend the fire. 

- Do you wish to fuck me?- she had asked bluntly, no accusation in her tone

Young Gendry would have blushed and told her how improper for a lady that matter was, he would have left or cursed at her and they would have fought… but they weren't their young selves anymore.

He had stayed silent for a while, the crackling of the fire and the howling of the snowstorm outside the stone walls the only sounds. 

- Sometimes…- there was no point in lying, and there was no point in arguing with her about what she could or couldn't talk about

- But you don’t have to worry about that… It’ll pass… you are a woman… you’re nice... and I’m an idiot…- he explained hoping she wouldn’t be upset about his words

She wasn’t. 

- Is that why you are following me now?- some accusation in her tone 

- No, it’s not that… following you is… just the right thing to do… it’s what I should have always done…- 

Arya smiled and walked forward, to then sit close to him, he must have said the right thing.

- Yes… you should have…- 

Deep silence again.

- And… I’m sorry for being… I know it won’t happen… It’s just… you are pretty and I’m... a man…- 

She scrunched up her nose

- So you're telling me that all brotherhood knights must want to fuck me as well… since they are men…- 

-Some of them... more than you would imagine… but it doesn’t change things… they follow you because they believe in you… they respect you… I do respect you…- 

Arya bit her lip, they were marching toward danger, toward war and death, but it was stupid to stop life so early, Nymeria and the wolves kept hunting and running and birthing their pups even if the world was going to end… even winter couldn't stop what was just… natural… 

- You could kiss me… I think I’d like that…- she said looking at him with her gray eyes 

His heart skipped a beat, Arya always had the worst timing for some things, or maybe the best timing, he wasn’t sure… 

- I could never no that…- the knight in him spoke 

- I thought you wanted to… you just said…- she started, her voice nervous 

- Of course I want to… but… it would be wrong…- Gendry truly hated himself in that moment 

- Why?- 

-It just is… - 

She snorted and crossed her arms 

- Stupid! if you don’t kiss me right now… you’re a coward!- she spat, her eyes never leaving his. 

He sighed and looked at her lips, he was many things… but he definitely wasn’t a coward.

here it is, I'm late again... having to spend the summer with my Italian chaotic family doesn't help... I really like the next fic I wrote... I'll post it in a few minutes... enjoy<3<3

[olipeaksforever]

Past the Peaks: A Series.

After facing their doppelgangers, Laura Palmer and Dale Cooper get out from the Black Lodge and face the consequences of such action. Meanwhile, some of the other Twin Peaks townsfolk decide to make something out of the revelation of the town's dark nature after the disappearence of Special Agent Dale Cooper and the now inexistent death of Laura Palmer.

Also known as "Past The Peaks", this is my post canon lodge dodge Twin Peaks au!  The folks at TP notice something is definitely wrong with the man that looks like Cooper so after interrogating him (with Albert), they put him back on the Black Lodge. The real Cooper comes out (having embraced his doppelganger and accepted himself for who he really is (not really) + helping Laura Palmer into doing the same thing, now that he can finally protect her) but he has all his wounds back so he's hospitalized immediately and is dead for a few minutes (in that period he meets again with his mother in an universe where she never died) until he comes back to life. Laura doesn't wake up in the Black Lodge but wakes up in Jacques's cabin instead, and meets up with Donna. Somehow, there was a timeline change (courtesy of Coop) that led to Laura's disappearence instead of her death. Laura gets her wounds cleaned by Donna and leaves the town with her, trying to figure out what to do next now that she's left her family for good.

WORKS:

Silver Moon Over Sleeping Steeples (Cooper centric): Dale Cooper has escaped the Black Lodge after embracing his doppelganger, but after BOB starts to possess him and try to turn him into the monster Dale never wanted to be, he must come to terms with his flaws and face his biggest fears to reclaim power over his own body again. This work contains descriptions of rape and suicide attempts among other things, so read at your own discretion. You can find it here on tumblr and in my ao3!

Since Yesterday (Laura centric): Laura Palmer lives, and BOB wants her more than ever. As she tries to start over with Donna, Laura will have to find a way to make BOB get out of her life forever. This fic is still not finished because I want to make Laura right as well as being careful with her, but it will be as graphic as Silver Moon when I publish it.

A Cigarette and a Silouhette (Audrey centric): After surviving the explosion, Audrey leaves the town with Johnny and lands a job on an up and coming production of a neo-noir horror film as the leading lady. After meeting screenwriter Trudy, Audrey gets visited by ghosts that linger on the velvet curtains. This fic is not finished.

Hanging On The Telephone (Diane and Denise centric): Replacing Cooper and Albert, Diane and Denise are now part of the Blue Rose task force. During their transfer, they get a mysterious phonecall. This fic is not finished.

Morning Sun (Annie centric): Annie Blackburn escapes the Black Lodge looking like a broken porcelain doll. Norma, Ed and Cooper help Annie get back on her feet. This fic is not written BUT I'm planning to make one for her because I love Annie <3

By This River (Cooper and Laura centric): Thirty five years later, Dale and Laura remember Twin Peaks. Link for ao3.

Under Stars (Cooper centric): The last time Dale had a good birthday, he got a letter. Fifty-years later, he gets a letter for his birthday. Link for ao3.

If you'd like, read them and tell me what you think via asks or leaving a comment on ao3 since I adore those kinds of messages! If you have any questions about my au, send an ask!

BTW: I am not fixing Twin Peaks canon by making this nor am I improving the show (because I already love it the way it is). This is a what-if that I've had since 2022 and that I've been improving!

[leggerefiore]

This is a request since I saw it was open 🧍🏾‍♀️

What about a s/o with a big chest ( I have this problem ) so when their s/o goes up to hug em the first thing they feel will be your chest 😎

You can write it sfw or nsfw up to you ( btw I love your fics a lot 💓)

More excuses to write about Ingo's breast fixation. Did it in HCs format.

threw in a Larry for a friend

cw: reader with boobs, sexual implications

characters: ingo, emmet, larry

▲Ingo▼

● He's dying. Again and again. This is legally bullying him. Ingo keeps his eyes away from the sight in pure and utter desperation. The older twin knows you can't help it, but it makes his heart stop every time. His mind flashes to other things, only to be brought back by your voice. He loves being physically affectionate with you, but it's difficult to do it when he worries about latent side effects that could follow. Silently, he tries to overcome these thoughts, lest he wither away.

● Though, if you tease him and tell him you don't mind him looking, suddenly his eyes may shift a bit as he betrays himself. Ingo won't lie to himself, he enjoys breasts, but he is a man who views himself as being not overly sexual. (He does argue it's a comfort thing when he's laid on them in the past. Ingo is emotionally drained, so laying on you is comforting.) The image of them haunts him for the rest of the day as he walks around. (When you are both home alone, he's on his knees begging to let him bury his face into them with a fluster. Please take care of him.)

▽Emmet△

○ He stares disrespectfully and giggles. This one will tease you about the feeling and not hesitate to tell you that he adores your hugs for more than just their sweet affectionate appeal. While he may not be as bad as his brother is about tiddies, but he can enjoy a nice figure. His arms will go around your waist as he pulls in closer. You'll know exactly what's on his mind. If you do get him excited, you may have to deal with the consequences. He'll know if you're doing it to specifically tease him, too.

○ Letting him indulge himself, you'll see his grin widen as his teeth break out. His silver eyes become more playful, and he coos if you want to find a more private place to be. Turning him down will result in him being a bit whiny all day. When you finally have some time together, he becomes a menace. He spent so long just thinking about you! He needs you verrrry badly. Be nice to him, please. Emmet can become more annoying.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 Deadpan, pretending he doesn't notice, but he notices. It enters his brain, and it sits there. The feeling of your hug is just there. Haunting him in the depths of his overworked mind. He just kind of nods and ends the hug. You watch as he strides off. Larry tries to push the thought from his mind, but it doesn't leave. It was pleasant… A nice change. It even made him forget his distaste for PDA for a moment. He enjoyed it, admittedly. Larry was still a man with preferences (even if he lived to work). The other members of the Paldea League watch him exist in a happier mood and wonder if he saw a three segment Dudunsparce again.

🍙 In private, you get him awkwardly averting his eyes and requesting another hug. It's hard to get him to admit what he wants, so you may just have to initiate it for him. You may see some colour on his cheeks as he admits that you left him with a craving all day and an urge to get off on time to engage it again. You've awoken something in this man he long thought dead. Please indulge him a bit for how long he's gone without.

[staghunters]

Yellowjackets Girl Loser Standoff

Can't add polls to reblogs, but @mercedesrollinballer was talking of one to settle this matter. (@mistysnat started it all)

Yellowjackets! Alive, but failing at every instance. Who's doing it the worst? Your pick! Arguments for each are under the Read, but if you are sure of your losing dog, then vote here!

PROPAGANDA UNDER THE CUT

Taissa Turner

Teen Eats dirt and is not aware of her shadow-self to an embarassing degree. Sets up an expedition to get to civilization with only a bit of rations and a compass, and nearly gets her gf killed (they don't find help btw). Her rushed funeral for clown Jackie indirectly causes the cannibalism. "You ate her face, Tai" and she didn't even remember it.

Adult Hires a vague hitman to spy on her surviving teammates because what are social skills? Has a Gorgeous wife and stable home and then chooses politics. Leaves her wife in a coma and her son with his gran to hitchhike to her ex because yea her evil double said so and that is definitely legit. Claims to be a skeptic about rituals until she is in the clear and can participate on the safe side lol. Marries a rock?? Is not getting that re-election.

Shauna Shipman

Teen Thinks screwing her bestie's beard is what will solve things. Related: is pregnant while stuck in the woods. Related: did not raise the baby to hunt down Jeff like she said she would. Verbal communication? We bottle up our emotions and then write them down on paper for everyone to read. Did a silly voice while playing around as the vessel for hunter guy in the seance. EVERY SECOND OF HER IN THE SHED WITH POPSICLE JACKIE. Throws a fit over not being crowned cannibal queen.

Adult Totally living her dream life. Thinks a posh british accent is sexy in her furniture store roleplay. Got in a fender bender with some guy, cheated with him, then murdered him and hid his body. Still hallucinates her bestie hanging around. Can only seem to find some joy in her life through Violence (maybe skip the sex-therapist and go looking for one that deals with anger issues). Thought that she Had to murder a baby goat when nobody said a word about that. Got hunted lol.

Misty Quigley

Teen Unhinged from the start. No social skills. Has the hots for her gay coach. Destroys the flight recorder because "uwu then people will need me" and not think about the consequences. People ditch her for the most part after first-aid isn't needed anymore (happy now, Misty?). Throws psychedelics in the stew (banned from kitchen). Snitches on Jackie not taking part in the saying thanks, which sparks the fight with Shauna, which gets Jackie dead, despite Jackie being one of the few (maybe only?) people to be nice to her. Speaking of, gets a new bestie and has her falling off the shit cliff. Cannot read the room during a baby shower. Theater kid. Has no cast-appointed middle name, but the fic-appointed one is "fucking" Adult Works in elderly care so she can munchausen someone in case she need a mood boost. Forces herself in Natalie's life. Is on true-crime reddit. Her only friend is a parrot. Has a murder basement that she doesn't actually use for murder. Reads trashy romance novels. Overshares on a first date. Hangs out with a dude and lets him reduce her talents to a shrivel. Infiltrates a cult for shits and giggles. "Misty, you actually killed somebody" KILLS HER FRIEND. SHE ACCIDENTALLY KILLS HER FRIEND

[br0-k3n-sch00lb01]

btw guys new stuff for the Sage AU fic!!! Im actually. Axtually writing lately!! Exciting yYayyayayayayayysysys

theres more than this but i was lazy

enjoy. Enjoy your food.

Basil stepped inside the basement. He heard faint voices from the room he had grown to avoid lately. He hadn’t been doing his proper ‘job,’ if that’s even what it could be called. His friends were awake, most likely, and for some reason he felt like he should just let them out. But he knew the consequences he would suffer if he did so. He placed his hand on the door to the chamber. He knew his hand would have been trembling if this were any other context, but he had learned to steady himself. It was unimportant to have such reactions to fear. In his eyes, even if they were natural, he saw them merely as another problem he had to deal with. There was a crashing sound inside and he twisted open the heavy handle .

He could not open the door. 

He should be panicking. They would die. His friends would die. He had to let them out.

“If you even try to help them, you know well what I can do to you.”

He had started shaking but stiffened involuntarily when Sage spoke. This was his reaction now, then? He had some things to say but for the sake of his own life he decided not to say them. Why had he been trying so hard to not get killed lately? His life, at this point, had no value. Nobody in this town had cared for him except for his friends at times. And now they were locked in this room in his cold basement. He pushed harder down on the handle to the chamber. Whatever was jamming the door gave way and he pushed the heavy slab of iron inwards. 

He would be shocked if he were a normal person, but he wasn’t exactly ‘normal’ after everything he had done. The first person he saw was Sunny. He stared at him as if he were staring at a statue and not a real person, with vague interest, but in all reality he felt nothing looking at his best friend. Aubrey stepped in between Sunny and Basil, brandishing an empty novocaine needle.

“STAY AWAY FROM HIM, YOU PSYCHO!!!”

Basil raised an eyebrow slightly. He didn’t say anything in response. Honestly, even if he had wanted to talk, he was afraid he wouldn't have a voice anymore. He hadn’t spoken in ages. Not even a slight noise of acknowledgement had been made. He stared at Aubrey with that ponderous look on his face. He wasn’t even thinking about anything at this point. His head was empty. Aubrey glared at him and waved the needle slightly. She might have been expecting Basil to flinch but he didn’t even blink. He placed his finger on the tip of the needle and pushed it away from him, staring at it with empty eyes. Aubrey shoved it back towards him and blood welled up on his finger. He brought his hand away and stuck his finger in his mouth, sucking the blood off. He wiped his hand on his sweater.

“I’m not sure why you’re so intent on keeping me away. I could have left you to die.”

“YOU TRIED TO KILL US!!”

Basil frowned.

“But you’re alive, aren’t you?”

Aubrey snarled at him. Actually SNARLED. 

“But you wanted us dead. I’LL GET YOU ARRESTED WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE!!”

Basil aimed a swift kick at Aubrey’s stomach, planting his foot firmly on her abdomen. Aubrey stumbled backwards in surprise and then groaned. Sunny’s eyes widened slightly. He actually hadn’t reacted the whole time. Basil and Sunny exchanged a glance and Basil stepped forward.

“Are you okay?”

Sunny looked Basil straight in the eyes.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Basil hugged him. He had missed feeling real human touch.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was all a mistake.”

“It’s okay.”

Basil felt a sharp pain in his side. He did not make a sound, or gasp, or even cry. He turned his head. Aubrey had jabbed half of the long needle into his torso. Not a fatal wound, but he could feel warm blood trickling down from it and it hurt. He narrowed his eyes.

“Did you just stab me?”

“You deserve it.”

“Okay.”

He yanked the needle out of his flesh and tossed it on a metal rack. 

“If you intend on killing me, you won’t accomplish that with a needle.”

“I’m aware.”

Kel had been watching the whole thing with mild interest. Hero was sitting next to him, staring blankly at nothing. 

“I’ll be leaving now.”

“Piss off.”

“I intend to.”

Basil turned on his heels and walked deliberately out of the chamber. He heard footsteps on the concrete behind him but he didn’t look to see who it was. He walked upstairs into the misery that was his main floor. It was dark but you could see blood everywhere. It was not pretty. It was sickening. Basil heard a choked gasp behind him. 

“Get used to it, sunshine.”

Sunny came up beside him.

“You need to clean this up.”

“No.”

“W-What do you mean, ‘No’? This isn’t healthy, you could get seriously sick!!”

“Do you think I really care?”

Sunny stared at him for a moment.

“You used to care.”

Basil’s expression did not change. He stood there with a blank look.

“Okay. Well, now I don’t.”

“What’s gotten into you? It’s like you’re not even you!!”

Basil scoffed.

“Nothing’s ‘gotten into me,’ Sunny. This is just who I am now, don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t see! This isn’t you! It’s not! This isn’t the sweet, affectionate Basil that I know and used to love!!”

Basil felt a sharp pang in his heart and he sucked in a breath.

“...’Used to’...?”

[berylgrace]

being true to my url, i HAVE to talk about the grace family rn and how all three of them were doomed from the start. (ao3 user loverboxd i am kissing u on the mouth btw)

first beryl. even if we only go off what we know of her in canon, which is very little, we know that a) she was an actress desperate for fame and controversy and b) she managed to win the affections of both zeus and jupiter. famously, women who were favoured or hell, targeted by zeus, didn't end up so well. whether they were victimised by his methods of getting to them, his attempts to cover it up or the wrath of his wife, those women end up, nine times out of ten, dead or cursed.

beryl is no different. in getting both zeus and jupiter, she opens herself up to twice the godly wrath. and not only that, but in the deeply toxic world of hollywood elitism, the only way to maintain the high she lives in is through excess - more drugs, more fame, more press, more affection from the most powerful of all gods, with little care for the consequences. if she continues her relationship with zeus/jupiter, she's going to die, but there isn't a world in which this is real enough of a threat for her to stop. if she continues to pursue fame and fortune, partying and doing drugs, at one point she will go too far, and she's going to die. and in my fic (here), if she stays at home and lives the life that is expected of her, her dissatisfaction would be too much for her to live with. beryl's life, through any and all of her choices, is predestined to be cut short. with or without zeus, with or without fame, beryl is fated to die.

then there's thalia. thalia, the firstborn daughter, a child that breaks the big 3 pact that, more than likely, her father was the one to propose, being the king of the gods. thalia is cursed from the moment she's born, through no fault of her own. there are only two outcomes for her - she will, as the (age-wise) oldest big 3 child, reach 16 and die in battle as per the prophecy, or she will run away from her fame-crazed, grief-stricken, drug-addicted mother and sacrifice her life at age 12 in order to save her new family. thalia's story ends in death in every iteration. zeus turning her into a tree saves her, but only temporarily. luke poisoning the tree almost kills her but then leads to her essentially coming back to life - only temporarily, before she turns 16 and is killed fighting kronos. she narrowly escapes her fate by circumventing it, choosing to stay 15 forever. thalia loses all of her biological family, and survives, ironically, by gaining access to her mother's greatest unfulfilled wish - to live forever.

lastly, jason. arguably the biggest victim of them all. jason does everything right when the odds are stacked against him. jupiter is harsher and colder than zeus. juno is even more vengeful than hera. beryl is much deeper into her insanity and addiction when he is born. at the age of 2 he is surrendered to juno and to wolves, trained to be the perfect hero, to command a legion, to save the world. his life is wracked with tragedy but he remains stoic, he's kind and thoughtful, he focuses on justice and duty, even when parts of his mother's endless ambition and his father's power start to shine through in MOA. he was groomed to be a leader but he accepts his position as the right thing to do and tries his best to be a classic, good hero. we don't know if the roman counterparts of the gods made the same oath, but even without that curse, jason is a pawn of juno's, uncared for by his father, and given the weight of the world to carry away from his own family. and he isn't even given the dignity of a mighty hero's death. his life is ended swiftly, violently, and then it's done. his entire life's purpose to help others, and no one to help him.

the grace family were always cursed. every single one of them was fated to die. greek or roman or hollywood bound, they are a tragedy.

[witch-from-a-block-of-flats]

Writers tag game!

Prompt: share some writing

Thank you @chodzacaparodia for the tag ♡♡♡. It motivated me to look at my WIPs and go back to writing so thank you even more.

English is not my first language and I had to translate the fragment below, so I apologize for any mistakes in advance (why do you need so many past tenses, english, why?) I hope it doesn't ruin reading for anyone. It's from the begging of a Blue Lock fantasy AU fic I wish to finish one day (I started it last summer).

Ego was dead. Chigiri was gone. Prince of a foreign country asked for a refuge behind their the city walls and war was just around the corner. Could this night get any worse? Ness had to think this through and put this personal schemes aside, international peace was hanging by a thread. Gods above, it took years of careful planning to keep the balance on the continent and now all of it was about to fall apart. Next days will be crucial. Ness will have to act quickly, if he wants to stop the approaching chaos or at least use it to his advantage. Or perhaps it was already too late? Maybe he had made too many grave mistakes and now the consequences of his actions are on their way to get him. This was going to be another sleepless night, wasn’t it? His mind was full of thoughts while he was navigating his way through the Upper City. Normally he would slower his pace to appreciate monumental buildings, beautiful gardens and masterfully crafted sculptures but tonight he had a mission to complete. Even the royal palace, towering over the city and almost glowing in the moonlight, faded somewhere beyond his consciousness. His legs guided him on their own, he could get completely lost in his new plans and ignore his surroundings. That was until he took a sharp turn into a narrow alley he knew all too well, where the smell of familiar flowers pulled him back into reality. Regardless of season or time of day this place always smelled like roses. “His favorite flowers…”

No pressure tagging: @blonde-batgirl (btw. hi girl i haven't seen you in a while how are you doing?) , @cleric4vampire and @feral-cockroach. I hope you don't mind ^^'

[n7punk]

Love the new fic! Sorry if you mentioned it somewhere before, but by the end of chapter 2, which songs have they rehearsed together? Did they have to kiss on stage or do the dead girl walking choreography yet?

God I love the questions y'all have for this btw. By the end of chapter 2, they've rehearsed the entire show several times and yes, kind of kissed! Basically, none of JD and Veronica's kisses have to be real kisses and they could easily be a quick press not even really aimed (especially during Dead Girl Walking, they're all over each other and the way Veronica grabs his face can block the audience from actually seeing if their mouths connect) so they're kind of kissing but it's not at all as detailed(? I guess) as a "real" kiss would be. As they practice the show more (especially after the talk) the kisses get more convincing but they're still not trying to actually kiss, just do choreo, and there's a distinct difference.

Btw, kisses in the show:

.2: Veronica gets up close and fantasizes about making out with JD during Fight For Me when the entire stage except for her is frozen in time. Their mouths are like one inch apart as Veronica croons to him and runs her hand down his arm. 2.2: Two (well, two separate times, there's kind of a flurry of kisses in each) kisses during DGW 2.35: Almost kiss in Heather Chandler's kitchen before The Me Inside Of Me but are interrupted by Heather yelling (again, like two inches apart). 3.35: Kiss after the line "We'll raise our city here" in Our Love Is God 3.4: JD tries to kiss her cheek from behind after the funeral but she puts a hand up and he walks away. 5.4: Kisses during Seventeen before the bridge and again at the end of the song. 6.4: Kiss in the scene after Shine A Light 6.5: JD actually kisses her cheek again somewhere in Act II but I can't remember when it happens now lmao. She doesn't raise her hand again but it's not sweet because at that point she's in the "you're a murderer" camp

Yes all those almost kisses and cheek kiss add up to half a kiss to Catra.

I'm trying not to get super in the weeds on the show plot unless it's relevant to a specific scene (DGW, the YW scene, the croquet scene, etc are all going to feature prominently in their own chapters and I don't want to get repetitive), but though they both had to psych themselves up internally for the kisses in practice (before it became more routine), they were trying to be professional about it. As unprofessional as they are with each other, I also didn't want to do a scene dedicated to that like theater people can't just kiss for their job and have it not be weird (this wasn't Catra and Adora's first time kissing, lol, they had done it during acting exercises before). I've seen actors talk about how viewers are always assuming and looking for some backstage romance between lead actors when in reality that shit happens between someone in the ensemble and the lighting guy they never have to interact with for the show.

That saaaaaaid. Weird how natural it becomes kissing Catra every night 🤔 Wonder if that could have any consequences.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

1, 6, 22, 23?

1. "the character everyone gets wrong"

the obvious answer is jgy, but I have also written so extensively about jgy's characterization that I'm reasonably sure I don't have to repeat myself here. so I'll go with the other character whose characterization frequently leaves me wanting to chew glass when I check the tags, and that's nie huaisang

I know part of this can be blamed on medium bleed (and fatal journey but lol we do not talk about fatal journey here), but I think the common characterization of nie huaisang that I see in the tags and in fic as 1) some laser-focused mastermind crouching at the centre of a spider web pulling literally all of the narrative strings from the very beginning in order to achieve his revenge, and/or 2) as helpless babie incapable of doing any schemes or any crimes until he was so moved by nmj's death that he just selflessly sacrificed over a decade of his life in pursuit of justice, justice for da-ge!!! and neither of these bland-ass takes are interesting or particularly consistent with the novel or with what we see in cql, tbh.

characterization #1 is harder for me to prove definitively, at least right now, so let's just call it a hard headcanon that he is not this genius schemer and move on for now. (I'm working on a longer Thing for nhs and trauma in my drafts, but it's not done yet, so /waves hands, watch this space)

it's easier for me to point to clear textual and visual evidence of why characterization #2 doesn't hold up under close scrutiny just because wwx lays out so much of it for us during his scooby doo murder mystery postmortem interrogation of wwx after jgy and nmj have been sealed together in the crypt. everything that nhs does to trigger jgy's 'killing intent,' to use wwx's own words (the law in most countries calls this 'entrapment,' btw, and it is illegal, but I digress), involves unnecessary collateral damage, and I say 'unnecessary' because there is no one holding a cursed murder sword to nhs's head forcing him to take any of these actions. he could just not do any of them at any point, and go on living his life, but he doesn't. and what he does do is manipulate mxy into utilizing the sacrifice summon ritual to bring wwx back from the dead to murder the entire mo family; he does the thing that I PERSONALLY had the most difficulty dealing with as a reader sensitive to animal death, which was kill a bunch of cats to lure wwx, lwj, and the junior quartet to yi city; he is the one who ensures that the knowledge of jgy and qin su's relation to each other reaches qin su without any regard to how learning this information would impact her psychologically; and he is perfectly comfortable using lxc as his last-minute, convenient tool to kill jgy when it seems otherwise inevitable to him that jgy will walk out of the temple alive.

all of this 👆👆👆 is not the sort of thing that someone does if they are pursuing justice. nhs wants vengeance, and I am fine with that being his character's driving motivation, I have no problem with that story. I would just very much prefer it if this fandom would treat his revenge quest specifically as that--a revenge quest--and then engage with what the actual, concrete consequences of realizing that revenge quest are for nhs in canon. in short: nmj is not at peace; the one person in his life who had made some attempt to understand him, care for him, and advocate on his behalf to nmj, is now dead, because he killed him; nmj's remaining sworn brother will certainly not be stepping up to provide him assistance as nie-zongzhu or xiandu from seclusion; and none of his remaining friends from childhood trust him. post-canon nhs, whether sauntering away from the guanyin temple as he does in the novel, or trudging away with a thousand-yard shellshocked stare on his face as he does in the drama, essentially has his san-ge's bloody hat for company henceforth, and that's it. that's depressing, and lonely.

6. "which ship fans are the most annoying?"

wangxian lol at least on tumblr. x!cheng as a ship drives me nuts and I can't stand it, but x!cheng shippers themselves are fine. honestly it's just the wangxian fans that make me want to blacklist the ship altogether.

22. "your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores"

huh! I don't know that I have one that my little corner of the fandom doesn't pay attention to? I suppose something I wish we speculated on more in the form of fic or art or w/e is meng yao's time in qishan with wen ruohan, because I am crawling up the walls in my eagerness to know how meng yao became the only person able to approach wen ruohan's throne not on his knees. I want to know how meng yao becomes someone wen ruohan actively wants to protect from harm in that final nightless city confrontation between him and nie mingjue, while meng yao is actively undermining his battlefield advantages through sending intelligence to lxc.

I just have so many questions!!

23. "ship you've unwillingly come around to"

I don't think it is fair to say that I have 'come around' to this particular ship because I still very much do not like 99.9% of fic and art that feature it, but I read one romantic 3zun fic rec'd to me by @poorlittleyaoyao that absolutely left me in emotional tatters. but that's it, that was ONE fic, and I think I mainly vibed with it so hard because the principle romance at work was xiyao. but even the n!eyao still left me feeling "oh 🥺" which I for sure was not expecting lmao.

edit: mea culpa @thymianne !! the fic is called 'favor' by venndaai (aka henshengs here on tumblr), and it is a hunger games AU that leans extremely hard into all of the messy, ugly feelings and actions that you would expect from a hunger games AU. you will absolutely suffer! enjoy it.

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

Crazy but I saw you said Henry used to be your favorite so do you have some headcanons to share with us?

i'm glad you asked, actually! i've been writing a fic about him for 2 months (someday i'll finish it) so i have some thoughts on his character. but i haven't shared them because well, let's just say that mafia 2 is super valuable to me for honestly revealing not the best human traits (and i'm trying to make these mf even worse) and henry is like. fandom's fav boy so i just didn't really want to get burned at the stake like some kind of a witch

anyway  1) about henry’s family i've seen a lot of hc about him being the youngest + spoiled child. but for some reason it seemed to me from the beginning that he was the middle child and clearly not spoiled. and it's not about an abusive childhood full of deprivation, no. i think inside his family was quite cold (maybe not from the beginning, but if you take henry as the middle child - it had time to become so by the time he was raised). i think henry's mom wasn’t exactly tough, but strict (have you ever talked to mothers who raised multiple sons practically alone? i have and they’re some of the strongest and toughest women i know). and I think she took on the main responsibilities of parenting because her husband just didn't have time for it.

and then there's the whole Sicilian conformity thing (this reminds me of a story of an acquaintance of mine whose mother wouldn’t let him go to the store to buy bread as a child until he put on a suit and tie. he was seven or so btw)

especially since henry's mother had to organize the emigration of the family and the Empire Bay settlement all by herself (i.e. i'm sure there was help from clemente, but the point here is to create a home(!) in a new place in a new country. emigration is often a heartbreaking situation in general, and when you flee to another country to survive, it's hard. you also have to stay strong because you’re responsible for an entire family). i based this whole story of coldness within the family on one (1) documentary about mafia families (it’s called mafia women i think??women of mafia??? i dont remember) and my hair just stood on end at how far from normal relations within the families are. i.e. if his family found out he was a rat, they wouldn't come to his funeral, and if he survived, they would consider him dead. it's wild, but interesting. the fact that even in the families slides mafia traditions  back to henry and how his upbringing affected him.

arrogance - memories of how his family was treated in sicily.

coldness - his parents' prohibition of weakness/emotionality. this is where his outbursts of aggression come from - repressed emotions always lead to a breakdown.

critical of others - rare praise from his parents.

wounded pride - he lives in the shadow of his father and perhaps more successful brothers. a sense of competition, to which he reacts not by wanting to grab his rival by the throat, but by trying to hide and run away from it, just so that these feelings don't torment him. an attempt to change his mind and pretend that he is really cool and successful (instead of actually doing something. fake it till u make it only without making it). he's trying to be lana del rey but really he's just an aggressive wounded dog. maybe a flea-bitten one

mistrust of people is probably a consequence of the fact that mafia families are closed and live in a very detached space (?)

 anyway. it's absolutely 100% henry to me:

+ henry in relation to vito and joe (at least at first? can't say i thought much about their relationship to each other)

+ closure because of the trauma of death. because of the deep understanding that in this business it’s useless to have close ties, friends, love, anything. in the end you will lose everything. and for what?

2) henry and religion i've been wanting to write about this for so long, but i thought (still think) i'd get kicked to death for it

anyway, i'm sure henry's religiosity is totally hypocritical and selfish

hypocrisy - "if they wanna kill themselves so badly i'll gladly help them out. especially for twenty grand". excuse me. suicide is considered one of the worst sins in christianity (at least in orthodox christianity). that phrase couldn’t be uttered by a man who truly believes in god. not to mention what he does for a living.

religiosity is his way of asserting himself, his way of standing above others. the way he (not directly?) chides vito and joe for not going to church. it's actually an attempt to humiliate the other person and show that "i'm better than you".

and!!!! it's funny!!!! he believes in superstition!!!!! as far as i remember it's against christianity. booo poser 🙄

it's funny that he tries to appear to be a religious man and yet he's in the most abusive family in the city

nevertheless i think he donates money to the church but it's all some kind of payoff attempt too! not sincere!!!

3) random analysis - to me he is a fatalist! hence the lack of ambition. fate is inexorable and cannot be changed. maybe it's the trauma of emigration and upbringing, reinforced by the fact that he never succeeded. the idea of henry being a fatalist is based on his "it's the 13th contract, it’s a jinx" etc. lack of ambition due to fatalism - you blame external circumstances/fate for your own failure. maybe he broke his bones a lot as a kid and stuff, maybe he's got a reputation for failure? i don't know. not because he's bad, but because all sorts of bad things keep happening to him for some inexplicable reason (maybe if he prays especially hard it will go away?)

- the further he goes, the more he moves towards a crisis and a fractured personality. frustration, big losses that he couldn't deal with and that just weren't worth it (betty's death probably had something to do with criminality; i think almost all of his brothers were criminals and some died). and i have a hc about clemente who was going to make henry a capo after luca died. but then chapter 10 happened and everything was ruined. such a crisis could be a reason to work for the feds, or it could be an attempt to make a big score with objectively very little chance of success (............. or to become a don, which is the plot of my fic). either way, all of these actions to me lie in deep despair and entrapment

 - hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite 

 - funny how he positions himself as a professional even though in the game he fails every time (character = actions, not words). i don't know, maybe he was once good, maybe it's wounded pride and he never admits to himself that he's not good at "the one thing he's good at" and considering this dialogue:

the situation is again quite tragic. it's like "im no artist i've wasted my life". i can totally understand that feeling and it's very hard. to me he's a man trapped in a world he can't get out of. he's trapped in a cage of a life he didn't choose (i think that may be one of the reasons he started working for the feds).

4) henry and betty i think they had a lot of genuine love for each other (..... unlike falcone and lauretta who are much more complicated) and for some reason i like to think that he and betty met because they lived next door to each other in neighboring apartments (the first scene with them in my head was betty looking out of the window and seeing henry in the next window taking dried clothes off the ropes that run between the houses. idk i like to think that he was helping with the household). and it does somehow seem very natural and right that betty was more proactive and that their relationship started because of her (he probably pushed her away at first btw?)

 if betty was killed by one of the families, henry never had a vendetta (probably clemente didn't allow it? one of the first reasons henry has a growing disgust for alberto)

5) random hcs - he knows francesca. very fucked up story because to francesca, henry is just a low-key polite christian (which evokes simple human sympathy), but he is actually the person who put her brother in jail. a person who commits the most heinous sins on an almost daily basis. henry doesn't know francesca is vito's sister either - if henry had spent more time with vito and joe: henry projects his traumas onto joe and vito: "you're so fucking naive." but then at some point he gets a brotherly instinct toward them - when eddie came to collect some of the profits from the drug deal he greeted henry with a punch in the face 🙂 personal grudge among other things (and since henry has many addresses, eddie went to each one and only the last one was correct. man was on the verge of a mental breakdown) - vinci and henry really are distant relatives - in the short time that henry and eddie have been working together (i want to believe that they’ve been working together), they have grown attached to each other. they’re opposite personalities, but they share a deep sense of loss and loneliness (in that don henry fic, there's a gunfight scene where henry and eddie are on opposite sides of the conflict and neither of them dares to shoot the other. eddie resigns and bows his head first. in this version, he also realized that he secretly wanted carlo to fail (still canon thing to me), he was incredibly tired of him and carlo's potential death seemed like a release) - one of henry's brothers took up boxing upon arriving in empire bay and was very successful at it. i have a random hc about this random brother having a fight with eddie. one of the reasons henry vaguely remembers eddie - i haven't written about luca and clemente here but my main point is that over time he developed an aversion and the family as a whole. this is the reason henry says he doesn't care about clemente family's destruction

6) vibesssss (there was supposed to be more here, but i forgot what i wanted to add while i was writing the main text) - about emigration. very painful and realistic topic for me. these screenshots aren't mine anyway it makes me think about henry and his attitude to emigration (which in my understanding is most often a tragedy for a person, because it is the destruction of the old familiar world and loss of emotional ties):

henry after betty's death. to me (esp the last one):

sorry henry it's you:

- it's also him. to be completely honest:

7) track list"Sinnerman" by Nina Simone: makes me thing about his death & character as a whole. his main song to me "Oh, sinnerman, where you gonna run to? Sinnerman where you gonna run to? Where you gonna run to? *** So I run to the Lord Please hide me, Lord Don't you see me prayin'? Don't you see me down here prayin'? But the Lord said Go to the Devil, the Lord said Go to the Devil He said go to the Devil All on that day So I ran to the Devil He was waitin', I ran to the Devil He was waitin', all on that day *** So I ran to the Lord I said Lord, hide me Please hide me Please help me, all on that day He said, hide? Where were you? When you oughta have been prayin' I said Lord, Lord Hear me prayin', Lord, Lord Hear me prayin', all on that day Sinnerman, you oughta be prayin' Oughta be prayin', sinnerman"

"Cold Cold Cold" by Cage The Elephant "I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life Doctor, the problem's in my chest My heart feels cold as ice, but it's anybody's guess *** Well, it's cold, cold, cold, cold inside Darker in the day than the dead of night Cold, cold, cold, cold inside Doctor, can you help me 'cause something don't feel right? *** Counselor, give me some advice Tell me how hard will I fall if I live a double life *** And as the darkness falls, it fills up both my eyes My life before me like a flash in the night With my arms open wide"

"Snakes" by Pixies about the disaster he caused "Snakes Are coming to your town In tunnels underground Some travelling overground A plague for our mistakes They'll be right next to you Snakes up against me too There'll be nothing to do When the rattle shakes"

"Christmas Kids" by Roar about him trapped in a cage of a life he didn't choose "The Christmas kids were nothing but a gift And love is a tower where all of us can live *** I'm going to escape, but you won't know how Or where to find me when I'm gone I'll drink myself to death inside this prison cell This prison cell So get me out of here Get me out of here *** You'll change your name or change your mind And leave this fucked up place behind But I'll know, I'll know"

"Little Green Bag" by George Baker Selection (not really about his character. it's about a drug deal)

i apologize for a lot of text (i could write more tbg but a) i'm too lazy for it b) i need more time for this (which i just don't have) ) all this is probably ooc but idk idk. this is the version of his character that has settled in my head (and i honestly!!!!! rewrote him a lot in october-november because at some point i realized that i was actually giving him falcone's traits. just because falcone is 100% my type of character) anyway i hope you'll have a nice day/night/etc and all this mess will be interesting to read💓