#the question is: who would say a line like that

[alt3rnata]

Going to answer them all :)

How many fics have you worked on since January? 

11 not including translations. 

2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? 

Everything. This is the first time I've written anything this year since I tried to write a Dragon Age Origins fic in school (that was a long time ago). 

3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.) 

Xenoblade Chronicles 3. God bless Monolith studio.

4. How many fandoms did you write for this year? 

Two. The second one is a micro fandom around some black metal band albums I listened accidentally, but that was fun.  

5. What ships captured your heart? 

Oleg/Ashera (XC3) is the main one, which is funny because in my head it has nothing to do with True Love Till Death. 

6. What characters captured your heart? 

Oleg (Teach) from XC3, James Sunderland from Silent Hill 2, Lann from Pathfinders WOTR.

7. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year? 

Yeah, see question 2. 

8. What fic meant the most to you to write? 

“Slayer and the Beast” because it was the first, and I wrote it with the best intentions, without putting anything dark into it, as I sometimes like to do.

9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? 

This one isn’t published yet. It’s working title is "The Element of Chaos" and it’s XC3 post-canon. 

10. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing? 

“What You Deserve” because I had to keep some quite violent details in my head, and I was glad to finally let them go. But in the process I learned a lot of new things. Hardly anyone can guess how much is put into this text.

11. What fic was the most difficult to write? 

“The Glitch” because it was a self-challenge and I had to fully rewrite that bitch 5 or 6 times, I don’t remember… But I had some fun there as a game developer writing fic about XC3 as a game.

12. What fic was the easiest to write? 

“Intersecting Lines”. I made it to relax (and now it's my work with the most kudos). 

13. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year? 

“Slayer and the Beast” is the longest and “Intersecting Lines” is the shortest. I tried to express my thoughts briefly and throw out everything unnecessary. Although sometimes this leads to me presenting events too truncated. 

14. What were your go-to writing songs? 

Esoterica’s “In Dreams” and Guilt Machine’s “On this perfect day” whole albums. 

15. What was the hardest fic to title? 

“It's a small world. It's a vast world.” Still not sure if it’s good. 

16. What's your favorite title of the year? 

“Slayer and the Beast”, proud of it. 

17. Share your favorite opening line 

“At first, everything is dark. It is silent, the only sound you can hear is the ticking of a clock. Then the sound of footsteps becomes audible, getting closer. A key turns in the lock. And suddenly the darkness is cut by a narrow strip of bright light, and then it grows into a rectangle as the man outside opens the door and steps inside. He closes the door behind him and flicks the switch. Let there be light.”

— "The Element of Chaos" 

18. Share your favorite ending line 

“Say hi to Rex and A. Someday we will all meet again, if you weren’t kidding... But now I have to go home. I think boys are already making breakfast.”   She gets out of the water, picks up her stuff, and takes one last look at the horizon. Then she walks barefoot down the path, humming to herself, until she disappears from sight.  In the very heart of Origin, all three hear that distant greeting. A is the one who smiles. 

— “The Glitch” 

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue 

He loosened the noose. Ashera took a shuddering breath and coughed.    “Was it enough like me? Did you have your fun?” he asked. His own voice sounded hoarse.    “I would rate this nine out of ten,” Ashera answered when she finally caught her breath and was able to speak. Not what he expected to hear from a person he had just nearly killed. 

— “Slayer and the Beast” 

20. Share your funniest line 

Well, I have a weird concept of ‘funny’. 

“But Oleg no longer had hundreds of years of life in store for him, only a measly 150 years at most. He remembered well the feeling that had appeared immediately after the Intersection, as if time had suddenly sped up. For those races that had previously had a longer lifespan and had grown up with this knowledge, the worry that they would not have enough time for anything had become commonplace. Against this background, the carefree way in which the short-lived races of both worlds, whose lives had, on the contrary, lengthened on average, spent their time, even caused some envy.” 

— "The Element of Chaos" 

21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story? 

Every time when the characters just do something I did not intend for them and the story takes an unexpected turn. 

22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand? 

I use MS Word + I write by hand some notes, plans, timelines, etc. 

23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year? 

I have one piece of writing that I can reread without thinking that "I could have done it better, but my skills weren't good enough." It's very satisfying.

24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic? 

Just re-reading it and looking at stats. 

25. How did you recharge between fics? 

I don't need to recharge, it is my leisure. I'm constantly reading other people's work, fiction and non-fiction, and I have a life to gain new impressions. 

26. Did you create fanworks other than fic? 

Nope. 

27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!) 

Hmm, Kinktober 2024, I guess. 

28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank? 

My audience of me, myself and I. And that one reader who left so good, thoughtful comments under “The Glitch” and appreciated my silly tech jokes and weird ideas. This made me feel that my work was worthwhile. 

29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024? 

I don’t have a plan, actually, things will be done when I have time. 

30. What would you like to write next year? 

I wish to work more on non-romantic and original things or AUs to practice working on storylines. Because I often find myself making up a storyline around a romantic line and fitting the events to it, rather than thinking them through as something independent. Of course, that doesn't mean inspiration won't take me in a completely different direction. 

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[comicaurora]

Hi, Red. I'm hoping you can put on your writing advice hat for a second. I've tried to write stories several times and think I'm pretty good at outlining plots. But the wall I always hit is that when I try to write the character's dialogue they all sound the same, ie they talk exactly the same way I do. At which point I give up. Any suggestions?

Ah, character voice! A tricky blend of strategy and ✨vibes✨ goes into picking one, but mostly they can be drawn cleanly from the underpinnings of the character themself.

Narrowing in on a character voice can be helped initially with some basic brute-force Q&A:

How polite/formal is this character? Would they pick their words carefully to avoid offense? Do they use honorifics or nicknames? Are they impulsive and often thoughtless, saying things in clumsy, unpolished ways that might offend? Do they aim to offend?

How confident is this character? Do they stutter, do they pepper in "um" and "ah"? Do they always know how the sentence will end before they start it? Do they turn statements into questions or vice versa? Are they guileless and open? Guarded and wary? What, if anything, makes them shut down?

What does this character prioritize? An explainer wants their audience to understand exactly what they're going for, so their dialogue will be clarifying and perhaps a bit long. A character who doesn't care what anyone believes might not be willing to waste time explaining themself. A character who cares more about everyone getting along might spend their dialogue defusing arguments or placating emotional rough patches; a character looking for a fight might aim to create those rough patches.

How silly is this little guy? Some characters will spot opportunities for levity and go for it. Some characters can't help themselves and will turn everything into a gag. Some will recognize a joke and pointedly ignore it until everyone gets back on track. Some have no sense of humor. All of this will determine what kinds of lines they will and won't say.

How emphatic are they? Some characters would never dream of using an exclamation point. Some couldn't end a sentence with anything else.

What's their frame of reference? One person's normal is another person's incomprehensible. A character totally at home in a certain environment or situation will carry themself through it very differently than someone who's out of their depth.

How insightful are they? Are they profoundly introspective or are they holding the door shut on their collapsing tupperware stack of emotional issues? If someone else is in distress, can they find a way to help, or do they maybe get frustrated at their inability to do so? Can they glean what's bothering someone or do they need to be told? What kind of things are obvious to them, and what flies over their head?

And etcetera. There's tons of questions you could add here, but they're just to get a gist. A character voice is genuinely less about tone and accent and whether or not they use contractions and more about, like. Would They Fuckin Say That. Everything else is icing as far as I'm concerned.

[dollarbils]

such a fuckboy | b.e.

fwb!billie x fem!reader

context. billie approaches you at an event, but you’re soon reminded that she has others waiting in line for her attention.

warnings. friends with benefits, smut, spit, oral, fingering, teasing.

request/request/request masterlist

her tattooed hand crept behind your back and rested firmly around your hips when she greeted you amidst the crowd.

“hey baby, what’s the frown for?” she commented on your expression, genuine concern spread across her features.

“it’s nothing, i just feel a little out of place here.” you replied, scanning the room once again to be met with unknown faces. you were at some gathering a mutual friend had invited you to, and knowing billie would be there, urged you to go.

“i didn’t expect to see you here, i was surprised. a pleasant surprise of course.” her lips pulled up to one side as she slyly delivered the compliment, a smile forming on your face when she did.

“i didn’t think i was gonna come, but a friend convinced me to. it’s been quite the turnout.” the last was an effort of sarcasm and it made billie chuckle, subconsciously pulling you closer.

“well you look so fucking good babe. it would be a shame to let that go to waste.” her eyes reflected the glistening lights that decorated the venue, as her bottom lip disappeared under her teeth.

“oh yeah? i wonder what your suggestion to fix that would be?” she smiled and was on the verge of finding a witty response before your conversation was interrupted.

“billieee, what’s taking so long? you said you’d be back in a minute.” a blonde emerged from somewhere behind you, her voice whiny and child-like for her age.

“yeah, fuck that’s my bad.” her arm left your body as she let herself get pulled away by one of her other bitches, reminding you of your position.

“i’ll find you. go mingle!” her last desperate words before she was out of your audible range, disappearing with the pretty blonde.

you stood awkwardly for a second, not completely sure what to do with yourself. deciding a drink in your hand would settle your nerves, you headed towards the bar.

“not surprised?” a girl approached you, having heard the last few words of your conversation.

“sorry?” your eyebrows knotted in confusion.

“billie. she’s always wrapped up in someone, you can’t seem to get five minutes alone with that girl. trust me, i know.” she scoffed chewing on the olive from her martini.

“wait, you mean, you? and billie?” you questioned as you were making the connection.

“me and plenty others. she’s ‘been around’ to say the least.” you chuckled when she signalled air quotations with her hands.

“she’s a fuckboy. i’m well aware.” she smirked at the comment.

“well it’s nice to meet another one of billie’s bitches, so to say.” she laughed at her own words.

“yeah, pretty humbling title don’t you think?”

“mm, she picks and chooses.” she shrugged her shoulders as if you were supposed to understand.

“what do you mean?” she paused for a second before speaking, as if not sure of what to reveal.

“well if she’s strung you on for this long it must mean she likes you. most of us get two nights at most before she’s bored.” a twinge of guilt settled in your stomach when she spoke so negatively of billie, who was your friend after all.

“no i mean we’re friends. i’ve know her for years.” you felt like you were bragging somehow, proving your place in billies life, proving to be superior to any other girls concerned.

“damn, i met her last night. im pretty sure she was drunk when she invited me here.” she held back a scoff, continuing the passive aggressive insults. she had been drunk last night, she’d called you.

“that doesn’t sound like her.” you always seemed to find yourself defending her, despite everything you knew. this conversation really hadn’t revealed anything new.

“looks like she’s come crawling back.” she nodded her head towards the girl approaching from behind. and you turned your face to be met with hers.

“back so soon?” you teased and she rolled her eyes. she scanned the girl you were previously talking to, an ounce of recognition clearly present.

“dead weight as usual, who’s this?” billie’s question clearly seemed to upset the girl as her face contorted in anger, but it was obvious she wasn’t surprised.

“honestly, fuck you billie.” she scoffed and walked away, mumbling words of ‘good luck’.

“well that was slightly dramatic.” billie still seemed confused and hadn’t caught on to your comment.

“what was that about?” she turned to place herself in front of you, gently caressing your arms.

“billie. do you seriously not remember?” she smiled awkwardly, catching onto the fact she should know who the girl was.

“uhh, yeah?” she dragged out her words in hesitation.

“you fucked her last night.” her eyes went somewhat wide as she turned to examine the girl.

“no recollection whatsoever of that. to be fair though, i wasn’t really in my right mind, what did she expect.” her nonchalant facade took over as she shrugged her shoulders.

“you invited her here.” her mouth opened in momentary surprise.

“shit, yeah that’s my bad.” she almost chuckled and you couldn’t help shaking your head in disbelief.

“god you’re such a fuckboy.”

“excuse me! i am not.” she huffed, clearly offended.

“oh please.” you rolled your eyes which seemed to annoy her further, her grip on your arms more prominent.

“yeah? say it again.” her tone was demanding but nowhere near the extent of her dominance. she made it almost too easy to counter.

“you’re such a fuckboy, billie.” she narrowed her eyes. “what? you don’t wanna hear it? it’s the fucking truth.” she smiled, clearly recovering from her moment of shock.

“mm,” she paused for a second. “i’ll accept it if you accept your truth.” your eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“tell me.” she was grinning when you urged her to speak.

“you’re just one of my whores, and i know you love it.” she pushed you further against the table behind you, raising her eyebrows to challenge your response.

“maybe, but you can’t deny i’m your favorite.” she smirked, biting the inside of her lip.

“what makes you so sure of yourself, baby?” she was playing with you now, submitting to the tension between you.

“because you never forget your nights with me.” she chuckled, however, still aware of your surroundings. otherwise, she’d have you right there.

“let me take you home.” her nose rubbed against yours tenderly as she placed a kiss on the side of your lips, misdirecting you completely.

“i don’t really want to go home.” you quipped, her eyebrows raising again. her sweet demeanour soon vanished when she spoke again.

“fine by me.” she said simply before forcefully dragging you to go find a spare room. it didn’t take her long either before she found an office type looking room, pulling you inside and locking the door.

“really?” you scrunched your nose up at the room, observing the furniture.

“what? it has a couch. besides, your hardly in the position to complain.” she backed you up against the door as she narrowed her eyes, her black eyeliner doing nothing to make her look less intimidating.

“i guess i shouldn’t put it past you.” she chuckled as her hands traveled to your ass.

“you’re really testing me today, aren’t you sweetheart?” her hands slid under your jeans, threatening the fabric of your underwear as she gripped your bare ass, almost making you jump if you hadn’t been expecting it.

“it’s fun.” this time, your words were almost a whisper, her face so close to yours causing the lower volume.

“mm, it is.” she agreed before bringing her lips to yours, closing the space between you with a kiss. gentle but still firm, her hands doing the work to assert her dominance instead, as she continued palming your ass. her lips left your fairy quickly as she traveled down your neck, the halter top you were wearing giving her easy access.

“billie.” the satisfied mumble left your mouth when her teeth moved the fabric of your top off of your tit, so that her mouth could attach to your nipple. you felt them harden as she sucked and nipped at them, her hands moving to undo your jeans.

“well that was an easy way to shut you up.” her face moved back up to yours and she guided your hips towards the couch, pushing you down as she swiftly followed, climbing on top of you.

“just get on with it.” you rolled your eyes but she clearly didn’t appreciate that. she almost laughed when she closed her hand on your neck.

“i think i’ll take my time, but thanks for the suggestion, baby.” her hand moved to undo the straps of your top, biting her lip when she exposed your tits.

“open up.” her command came with a soft tap of her finger against your lips, one of her hands returning to rest on your neck.

“come on baby, don’t be a brat.” you narrowed your eyes as she brought her face down to yours. when you complied with her request, her spit soon coated the back of your throat, as she closed your jaw, urging you to swallow.

“good girl.” her lips moved towards your tits again, as she began to bite the skin around your nipples, bruising the area. her hands worked quickly to remove your jeans, and she broke away to pull your top off aswell.

“baby, please.” you huffed when her fingers traced your clit through your panties.

“so now you’re all sweet again huh?” she teased, in reality she couldn’t get enough of it. your small sighs of content when her lips wrapped around your nipples, or when her tongue slipped past your lips. she could drown in the sounds of your pleasure.

“billie.” you dragged it out in a whine.

“yes, babe?” her fingertips worked their way past your underwear and through your folds. your mind erased any words you were attempting to say when her lips kissed your jaw. the only sounds leaving your mouth being soft moans as she teased you with her fingers.

“come on, i know you have it in you.” she purred into your ear, the hair on your back raising with shivers travelling down your back.

“no?” her fingers left your pussy and came up to your mouth. she tapped your lip again, pushing them in as you opened your eyes to stare into hers as you sucked on them, making a show of it too.

“there she is.” billie smirked when you moaned against her fingers, her hips beginning to grind on yours. she was becoming more turned on the harder you sucked on her fingers.

“fuck.” she sighed, when they left your mouth with a pop, a trail of saliva following. she couldn’t help but move down your body, sliding your underwear off as she kissed your lower stomach, tracing your thighs with her hands. it didn’t take long for her to move her lips lower, laying her tongue flat against your clit before using her fingers to spread the lips of your pussy. her mouth circled around your entrance, as her nose prodded your clit.

“mm, keep doing that.” she mumbled when your nails dug into her scalp, pulling at her hair while she ate you out. her fingers slid through your pussy, teasing your walls as she worked with her mouth.

“fuck, bils. more p-please.” your words, a mere stutter when she dipped her fingers past your entrance, her lips returning to your clit. your stomach tightened when she curled her fingers, slowly, dragging out your pleasure. her soft groans vibrated through your core as she brought you closer and closer to your release. you clenched around her fingers as she hummed in approval.

“i’m so close bils, c-can i-?” your words were interrupted when she thrusted another finger deeper into your heat, her thumb resting at the base of your entrance, just below her chin.

“mhm, go on baby.” she quickened her movements, as you released on her fingers, your thighs squeezing her head before she used her free hand to push your hips down. she pulled them out and lapped up your arousal, helping you ride out your orgasm.

“oh my god billie.” you sighed, out of breath, when you’d come back to your senses.

“yeah?” she grinned as she came back up to kiss you, holding your chin firmly to make sure you could taste yourself on her tongue.

“bet you’re glad i fuck those girls, hm?” she joked, laughing when she saw your expression.

“billie! what a dick!” you hit her playfully but she just continued laughing.

“i’m joking.” she pecked your lips but you didn’t return the gesture.

“what? come on, don’t be upset.” her expression softened when she realised you were serious, regretting the comment despite it’s humour.

“i’m not upset, it’s just-” you trailed off, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

“hm? you’re jealous?” she smirked resting her body against yours as she sat on your lap.

“no!” you were quick to deny it, a reflex almost. but when she gave you time to think with her silence, you rephrased your response. “well, maybe.” she took your face in the palms of her hands gently.

“don’t i have the right to be? if i were just a good fuck why would you string me along for this long?” her thumbs rubbed your cheeks.

“i’m not trying to string you along, love.” her words were sincere but lacked an answer to your question.

“then what is this?” you gestured between the two of you, asking the million dollar question.

“i don’t know, i guess i just didn’t think you’d want more than just… this.” she repeated your gesture to clarify her words.

“are you joking?” you scoffed, disbelief spread across your features.

“what? it’s kinda awkward to tell one of your closest friends your into her.” she argued in defence.

“a friend you fuck.” you added.

“look, i’m sorry baby. i don’t know what you want from me.” her eyebrows were furrowed and her words tender.

“what do you want?” you asked. curiously, but also out of genuine confusion.

“i just-” she took a second to think. “i just want to see you, be with you. kiss you and… fuck you.” she smiled at the last part, needing to lighten up the conversation. and you laughed at her hesitance to admit it.

“that’s what i want. but i want you to want that with just me. no one else. is that really too much to ask from you?” her smile didn’t falter.

“no, of course not. i want that too.” she kissed you, holing your face, keeping it close to hers. and she didn’t let go.

[thef1diary]

How would dirtbag!danny react to you sending him some risqué photos 😏

— that is a dangerous game, nonnie 👀 I’m imagining him miles away, where he can’t come over right away so he’ll have to make do with the photos you sent him, after degrading you on a call that is. 18+ content below

Your phone buzzed almost immediately after you sent the picture—a few sultry shots of you sprawled on your bed, wearing the tiniest scrap of lingerie you owned. The text was simple, just a playful “Thinking of you ;)”, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

Daniel’s reply came in fast.

Holy shit, sweetheart

Another buzz.

You really wanna do this to me right now?

And then your phone rang. You barely had time to speak before his voice came through the line, low and rough. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You smirked, twisting a strand of hair around your finger. “Am I?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. “Sitting there looking like that, knowing damn well I can’t touch you. You’re cruel, you know that?”

The sound of him shifting—the rustle of fabric—caught your attention, and your breath hitched.

“Bet you’re feeling real proud of yourself, huh?” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “Sending me photos like that and leaving me sitting here hard as a fucking rock. You’re lucky I’m not there, or I’d have you on your knees, choking on my cock until you’re begging for mercy.”

Your smirk deepened as his words poured through the line, every filthy syllable winding you tighter. You shifted on the bed, your thighs clenching instinctively, and you couldn’t help but tease him back.

“Oh, is that right?” you murmured, dragging your fingers along the edge of your lace panties. “All worked up just from a picture? Thought you could handle me better than this, Danny.”

He let out a low, mocking laugh, the sound rough and filled with promise. “Sweetheart, if I was there, you wouldn’t even have time to be a smartass. I’d already have my hand wrapped around that pretty little throat of yours, reminding you exactly who’s in charge.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words igniting something deep inside you. “Big talk for someone miles away. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, you think distance is gonna stop me?” His voice dropped even lower, laced with that dangerous edge that always made your knees weak. “Sweetheart, I don’t need to be there to control you. You’re mine, remember? And you’re gonna do exactly what I say, no questions asked.”

Your breath caught, a mix of anticipation and defiance bubbling in your chest. “And if I don’t?”

“Oh, you will,” he shot back smoothly. “Because you know what happens when you don’t listen. And after these little photos, you’re already in trouble.”

The casual threat sent a shiver down your spine. “Trouble?” you repeated, feigning innocence.

“You think I wouldn’t notice the time? Sending me that when you know damn well I’m busy?” he asked. “That’s gonna cost you. Next time I see you, I’m gonna put you over my knee and spank you until that ass is covered with my fucking handprints. Then, maybe you’ll think twice before teasing me like this.”

You swallowed hard, the image vivid in your mind, and let out a shaky, “Danny…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said smugly. “Now, here’s what you’re gonna do. Slide those panties off—slowly. I want you completely bare for me. Then, I want you to touch yourself, but don’t you dare cum. You’re gonna edge yourself for me, sweetheart, keep yourself nice and ready for when I get there.”

You hesitated for a second, the teasing smile on your face faltering. “And if I don’t?”

His laugh was dark, almost amused. “If you don’t? I’ll make you regret it. I’ll tie you up and make you watch me get myself off instead of giving you what you’re begging for.”

The thought sent a rush of heat through you, and you found yourself complying, your fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties. “Happy now?” you murmured, your voice breathless.

“Not yet,” he said, his tone sharp. “I want proof. Send me a video—of those pretty little fingers working. Let me hear you whine for me, say my name like you mean it. But don’t even think about cumming. That’s for me to decide, not you.”

You bit your lip, already feeling the ache building as your fingers brushed over your slick heat. “You’re impossible,” you muttered.

“And you love it,” he shot back. “Now be a good girl and show me exactly how much.”

He ended the call and with a shaky breath, you propped your phone up and hit record, knowing full well that this little game was far from over—and the consequences would be everything he promised and more.

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 | Jonathan Crane

𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢.

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 — Hello my angels! I haven't posted in a while & I was on a little writing hiatus due putting my mental health first, but I am slowly coming back to writing! I'm not sure when I will write another fic/have the time to, though! Also sorry in advance for any grammar errors as I barely proofread thiiiiiis!

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — Your mentor, Doctor Jonathan Crane, coerced you into making a sex tape as a means to keep you silent about what you saw, and for the night, you become a star on camera for him.

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 — 2.9k

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 -> 18+ ONLY DUBCON, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie, sex tape, drugging, stockholm syndrome(?), blackmail & coercion

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You stared at him silently from the bed, unsure what to say next. The atmosphere wasn’t tense by any means, but it was heavy. The air – the air was heavy. Jonathan silently stared you down in his suit, standing beside the blinking camera on a tripod. 

This wasn’t your idea. You’d have never agreed if he hadn’t forced you to.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if you’d made the decision long before he even mentioned it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jonathan Crane was your colleague – or rather mentor. You had been offered a position to work under the renowned Doctor at Arkham Asylum at the beginning of your practicum last month, and although most people would shiver at the thought of working with the criminally insane, you jumped at the opportunity. This would most definitely advance your chances of getting a coveted job post-graduation, and you were willing to do whatever it took. 

The last few weeks had been chaotic but thrilling; you’d shadow Crane around Arkham as he treated his patients and wrote down evaluations — whatever he was doing for the day. However, one evening, you went to his office to ask him a question you’d had, only to walk into a scene that caused your jaw to drop. 

Lay slumped over on Jonathan’s office desk was a patient – patient #20373 to be precise – who appeared to be…not breathing. Your eyes darted from the patient to Crane himself, who was now rushing to slam and lock the door to his office behind you. You don’t quite remember everything that happened after that. 

One thing you do remember though – and you doubt you’ll ever forget – is waking up in a cushiony room on a bed, groggy and half awake until Jonathan came into your line of vision. You tried to cry, or sob, or do anything, really, but your mind was going four ways and you couldn’t seem to process what was happening. 

“Did you drug me?” You rasped with watery eyes, your hands reaching to your throat out of instinct. 

“I did what had to be done. What you saw – what you think you saw…” He corrected himself, “I can’t risk anyone finding out about that.” 

“I- Okay, I won’t tell anyone, just please–”

He shushed your panicked voice as he eyed you down the way a predator would do to its prey. “I want to trust you, I do — but I can’t.” 

You watched as he stepped closer to you, and you noticed that even though you wanted to run, your body was seemingly too weak. Too heavy.

“I’m working on a clinical trial,” he informed you. “I’m observing the neurological patterns of patients exposed to their deepest, darkest fears. Unfortunately, like with all clinical trials, there are sometimes…flukes. Accidents. Some patients don’t react properly to the medication in the way we want them to. Dosage errors, genetic factors, allergies…the list goes on. What you think you saw was just that — a medical error.” 

You tried to talk, but for some reason, you couldn’t – you were floored, to say the least. He seemed to take notice of this, and he cooed softly as he came to pet your head gently. “I know,” he feigned sympathy, “you must be so out of it.”

“What did you do to me?” You choked out, failing to swat his hand away from you. “How–?”

“A fast-acting sedative and a small syringe,” he interrupted, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Poor thing, you were out cold before your brain could even register what was happening.”

“You…God, you’re fucking sick.” You let out a choked sob as he smirked at you, clearly amused. 

“I’d like to return to our previous topic of discussion.” His tone shifted back into his usual, clinical one. “Although I'm quite certain you won’t speak a word of what you saw earlier to anyone, I need something from you. Think of it as an eye for an eye — that sort of thing.”

Blackmail, you thought to yourself, he wants blackmail so that he can have something to hang over my head. 

At that very moment, you noticed a camera propped up on a tripod in the corner of the room, causing your mouth to go dry. 

“You– Doctor Crane, you don’t have to do this…” You almost whispered as a tear ran down your cheek at the realization of the type of blackmail he had in mind.

“Jonathan,” he corrected, “I’d like to believe we’re on a first-name basis by now, wouldn’t you?” He sighed, looking at you through his glasses with his steel blue eyes. You’d be lying if you said you never found him even slightly attractive, and sure…maybe you’d fantasized about him once or twice in bed all alone at night, but what you had in mind was different – innocent. It was just that; a fantasy. 

“I–I don’t know what you want from me,” you stammered, feeling your stomach twist in knots. 

“What do I want from you?” His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Simple. You and I are going to make a little…project. Something personal. Something memorable.” You felt sick as you failed to form a response. “You’re awfully quiet, sweetheart. I thought you’d have more to say, perhaps even put up a fight.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spat, finding your voice again. “I’ll never—”

“You will,” Jonathan interrupted, his tone sharp and menacing. He smiled softly at you, a juxtaposition to his cruel, mocking tone from mere minutes ago, and he was eerily calm. “Because if you want to keep even a shred of your dignity, your reputation, your job, or your life—”

“Fine,” you panicked as he went on with the list and gave in as your voice dropped to a whisper, “just…just don’t hurt me.”

He smiled faintly. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He didn’t bother waiting for you to reply before moving the camera and tripod to the edge of the bed, watching you like a hawk to make sure you didn’t even dare to attempt to get up or do anything that would indicate you would try and fight back. 

Once he set everything up, you looked at him with watery eyes, which caused him to feign worry and coo mockingly at you. He towered over you as he stood at the edge of the bed where you sat, and he took your face into his hands, forcing you to look up at him. 

“I want to hear you talking dirty.” His words sent a chill down your spine, and even though you’d tried to break eye contact, he forced you to look at him once more. “I want to feel you put the work in.” 

“Please—”

“I want to watch you entertain.” 

You watched as he turned his attention back to the camera and tripod. He toyed with it momentarily before it made a small beep sound, and a flashing red light started to blink. 

“Is it on?” Your voice noticeably trembled.

“Yeah, it’s on.” His voice was eerily relaxed.

Your hands were shaking – which you hadn’t even realized until now – and you nodded, unable to do much more. He didn’t say anything yet, but he looked at you with a menacing stare, causing your blood to run colder than it already was.

You weren’t even sure you had a pulse at this point.

“Strip,” he suddenly ordered, causing you to grimace. “Fucking strip.” 

Scrambling on the bed with your eyes darting from the camera back to Jonathan, you do as told with trembling hands. Hastily, you attempted to rid yourself of your clothing before you choked on a gasp as you felt Jonathan yank you back by your hair with a harsh grip. 

“Slowly,” he purred, knuckles going white with how hard he was gripping onto your hair, before letting go after what felt like a lifetime. “I want you to savour the moment you gave yourself up to me.” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth – that, yes, you’d given yourself to him long before this moment. Not with your body, but with every line you let him blur until you could no longer tell where you ended, and he began. 

You gave yourself up to him unknowingly when you caught him “treating” his patients with his fear toxin on countless other occasions and yet, you didn’t say a word because you were blindsided by how pathetically attracted you were to him. 

This time, you just happened to get caught, and he acted on impulse, forcing you to surrender.

But this wasn’t really surrender. This was inevitability.

Once you were left in just your underwear, you were a shivering, doe-eyed mess. Although, it seemed Jonathan preferred you this way. “You’re such a good girl,” he cooed, hands coming to brush up against your neck gently. “God, you truly are pretty.” 

His words were sickeningly sweet; as if he wasn’t keeping you here, forcing you to film a sex tape as blackmail for yourself. 

But was it force when you’d handed him the reins so long ago, piece by trembling piece?

“You're so soft,” he mumbled, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek as he moved your hair out of the way, exposing your neck, to which he placed another kiss.

“...Jonathan, please.”

Your voice came out soft – quiet – and it had this tremble within it because you were free-falling. One moment he had you quivering in fear, and the next, he was the same soft-spoken, intellectual, kind mentor you had found rather endearing before all…this. Perhaps it was your mind playing tricks on you, maybe it was even a coping mechanism – but if it helped you believe that you didn’t somehow allow yourself to let him do this to you, then you welcomed that idea. 

Psychology is interesting. Human behaviour is interesting. 

“I know you better than you know yourself,” he whispered against your skin, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up as you shut your eyes. “Don’t lie to me — you love this. I’ve seen you snooping around my office, I know you’ve looked in my file cabinets…”

He continued speaking softly – not in a menacing way – but rather in a reassuring way, like he knew who you really were underneath this facade you put up. “I know that you know what I do within the walls of Arkham when nobody is looking — well, nobody except for you.”

“You’re so vile,” you whispered, leaning into his touch as you let his hands roam your body in front of the camera, not even attempting to deny it. 

“You’re just as vile for letting me do this to you,” he nipped your neck, causing you to let out a startled moan. “You know whose blood is on my hands, yet you let those same hands touch you.” 

The lines between sex, lies, and the ugly truth blurred in an instant as your hands found his shoulders. With a sharp pull, you placed your lips on his. Before he could react, you tugged him down onto the bed, the weight of him pressing against you like the inevitability of everything you’d already surrendered.

“Show me who you are,” he whispered, getting just enough distance between your lips in his to get the words out, and you didn’t need to be told twice. 

You pressed your lips up against his once more, feeling him intertwine his hands into your hair this time around. Your nails dug into his suit as you desperately tried to tug him out of it, falling deeper into the unholy temptation that was Jonathan Crane. He continued to kiss you as you rid him of his clothes, and in between kisses, you straddled him as his hands found purchase on your hips. 

You pulled back momentarily, glancing at him and noticing his glasses were slightly fogged up, but his eyes were still ever so blue through them. You smiled slightly before you started to unbutton his white, collared shirt that was under his suit jacket, while simultaneously trying to remove his tie fully.

Jonathan had no objections – he wanted to see how dirty you were willing to be. How filthy you would get on film…and that sparked an idea in his head.

Jonathan suddenly slammed you down onto the mattress within seconds, his shirt half undone and his tie hanging off his neck lazily before he was tugging your lace panties down your thighs. This was the moment that he decided even if he was supposedly blackmailing you, he needed to have his face buried in between your legs. 

“Jonathan,” you panted, looking down at him between your legs, his brilliantly blue eyes now much darker. “Wh-what are you doing?” 

He tossed your underwear to the side, offering no response before diving right in, devouring your cunt skillfully as his tongue darted through every single inch of you. You let out a sharp gasp before it turned into a moan. It was almost disgusting how good he was with his mouth. 

“Fuck,” you whined, hips arching upwards so that he could taste all of you, down to the last drop. 

“Delicious.” 

His voice was muffled as he ate you out, savouring the taste of you against his tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing, but it was too late to try and save yourself now – not that you really made any attempt before because here you were; getting eaten out by a man who supposedly drugged you and forced you into getting fucked on camera but hey,  it happens to the best of us... 

He licked your folds, gently nipping on your thighs or pressing kisses to them, before diving back into you as he lapped you up. Soon enough, you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach starting to build up as he sucked your clit gently, causing you to let out a rather loud moan. 

“I’m close,” you warned as your back arched off the mattress again, causing his grip on your thighs to become harsher, keeping you there. “God–”

He hummed in acknowledgement as you felt your release hit you all at once. He continued to eat you out as if you were his final meal until you were a shaking mess, begging him to give you a break as your legs shook.

Before you even had a chance to fully recover, you found yourself in yet another position he manhandled you into, this time face down ass up – and looking right at the camera. You heard his belt unbuckle from behind you before you let out a quiet gasp, feeling him line himself up with your entrance. 

You were plenty wet at this point, so soaked you could certainly feel yourself dripping down your thighs. Jonathan pushed himself into you desperately, filling you up fully with one, quick stroke before his hands gripped your hips. Your eyes screwed shut as he stretched you out around his cock, slamming his hips into your ass as he fucked you into oblivion. 

You babbled and moaned into the mattress as you felt yourself soak his length. He then grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at the camera with wide eyes and an already fucked out expression as he continued to plow you.

“Fuck,” he huffed, “you take cock like a professional. Atta’ girl.” 

The way his cock was angled inside of you was perfection. It was that perfect mixture of pleasure and pain that made it feel so good when he was fucking you – ruining you – and rearranging your insides. You could physically feel every inch of him fill you and stretch you out around his thickness, pounding you until you lost your ability to think about anything other than him filling your holes twenty-four fucking seven.

“Jonathan,” you feverishly said his name before letting out a moan so pornographic, that it even caught Jonathan by surprise – a good surprise though, nonetheless. You continued to beg him to fuck you harder and harder, pleading with him for God knows what. “I need— nnghh – need you to fill me, yes—!’

“You’re a fuckin’ natural at this,” he gruffed, feeling himself edge closer to his release. “Look at you go, you’re such a slut, aren’t you, baby? Show the camera what a good girl you become when you’ve got my cock in you.”

“Mmm,” you drawled out a few more breathy moans before neither of you could go any longer. 

Jonathan cursed under his breath before he filled you up with his come, stuffing you full of it as his thrusts slowed down. Simultaneously, you were clenching down on him as you drenched his cock with his hands still intertwined in your hair lazily. 

You stared at the red light which was still blinking before Jonathan finally let his grip on your hair go, making you sigh with relief. He was still buried in your warm, wet cunt as you looked over your shoulder, silently admiring the way his blue eyes pierced through you. His hair was slightly dishevelled and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were a bit pink, but you were soon pulled out of your thoughts as he let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“You’re a fuckin’ star, babydoll.” 

But the difference between a pornstar and you? They know what they’ve signed up for. 

You on the other hand? You’re drowning in a role written for you, simply too blind to see who’s holding the pen.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Just wanted to say I LOVE your work! Especially with the inclusion of a black reader/character 😭🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

This is a personal lil thought of mine, BUT

John Price wouldn’t say he was dating a black woman, but there would be signs. Even though his style would be fine beforehand, He’d be dressing nicer, his hair and beard would always be well groomed and overall put together.

I think Gaz would be the first to peep something different from his Captain cuz he recognizes the work of his own people lol

And you're right because suddenly this man's beard is lined up too nicely and that damn hat is gone. Check it below the cut love.

Rating: gen audience

It all started a few months ago with a simple, "Hey Captain?" Johnny says, "Nice cologne, the hens in the media bay can't stop talking about it."

Price only shrugged, not really paying attention, "Just trying something new."

Kyle agrees, it's new, and he thinks it fits his Captain nicely.

Then, things escalate from that one-off comment.

Kyle is perplexed. Confused. Genuinely thrown for a loop because why is his Captain sporting a tapered fade that connects tastefully to his beard? With the side burns fading into the connect?

Kyle just shruggs it off as someone at his boss' super cuts trying and talking him into something new.

Only the new hair style stays and there are plenty of women and men staring at him with lust filled eyes.

The next thing Kyle noticed was the glittering shine of a simple gold chain around John's neck. It's thin, and within regulations, the clasps are too small for his co's large hands to actually put on. Kyle peeps the little gold cross that's just dangling there when he leans over the desk to point out things in their mission dockets. Hm when did he find religion? It's not really his business.

Okay what the actual fuck? Kyle is wondering where John heard the phrase "Do I look like Boo Boo the fool" to be able to understand that he needs to not answer that question with anything other than "no ma'am". They are working with another task force that's headed by an older black woman who's a force to be reckoned with. But that's beside the point because, since when did he learn that and whom did he learn it from?

John Price isn't one to actually keep up with eating lunch at work. Kyle remembers having to drag and threaten and get Simon and Soap to help him get their leader to at least try and eat lunch and not work through it. Nowadays? This man brings in lunch, and it's not what you expect. What Kyle is expecting, well...he's not really sure what he is expecting, but seeing this man eat a fried plantain sends him.

It all comes to a head when the four of them are leaving a debrief. They are shipping out at the start of next week. Set to be gone for like maybe a few months. Johnny is begging asking for them all to go out for lunch and Price only raises an eyebrow.

"Can't today Soap." Price says as they exit the office building. His eyes scan the parking lot, and a smile breaks onto his face at the sight of a shiny black car. "I've got plans."

Now Kyle knows how to put two and two together to get four. He's had his suspicions, but the reality of John Price even dating never crosses his mind. He really thought it was just the effects of him and Soap teasing him for being an out of touch old man. But no...he crosses the parking lot and opens the car door to help out a gorgeous brown beauty. There's no telling how old she could be because Kyle knows black doesn't crack (he's often called baby face...its why he refuses to shave off the little facial hair he has). Johnny is shocked and Simon just grunts out a small "huh?" as they watch their captain help his girl into the passenger side of the car.

"In hindsight." Kyle smiles and says as they watch the car pull off, "That new cologne he started wearing months ago should have let us know far before the tapered fade."

[sharky857]

The Kinkster Circle™ seems now complete.

Yes, I'm talking about our brand new favourite disasters: the Hex.

Yes, I'll be dumping the handdandy lsit under the break, so people who haven't gotten any KIM convo or similar yet won't be spoilered.

That being said...

Arthur: Has a thing for wearing aprons for either cooking and/or cleaning and also says that he would look good "in a black bowtie". So maybe his kink could be something related to maids?

Aoi: Asks your Drifter if it's okay for her to bite you, if she'll ever turn like Eleanor (a question sparked by the fact that she first says that she's been feeling her teeth becoming a bit sharper).

Amir: Openly says that he wouldn't mind to be put on a leash, go for "walkies", and he will also woof at your own Drifter (the latter happens in one of the Backroom lines, where he says that he likes dogs, and when dogs are happy they woof, and he feels happy, so... woof!) Sooo, yeah. Definitely pet play.

Quincy + Lettie: Definitely into BDSM, as Quincy may accidentally send your Drifter a KIM message actually meant for Lettie asking to establish a safe word.

Eleanor: Probably anything involving tentacles? I mean... That tongue seems to count as one, and once befriended enough she won't hesitate to boldly allude what she could do with it.

[momotonescreaming]

Stripping Back the Coats

Rating: T | WC: 5.2k | Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Tommy & Chim Friendship, Post Break-Up, Hurt Comfort

[read on AO3]

Apropos of nothing, or what looked like it at first glance, Tommy broke the silence. Shattered the stagnation in the air that swamped his living room. The movie he and Chim were watching had finished, the room falling into quiet.

Hand loosely cradling a bottle of craft beer — some fancy brew he'd been talking up that was as nice tasting as it was expensive. Not that Chim was just going to admit that, at least not right away — he'd let Tommy sit with it first. Tommy, who was perched on the edge of his comfortably large couch like he was unsure he was allowed to be there. One move and the string holding him together would be pulled taut, and he'd spring off the couch to standing. He looked like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to collapse or stand at attention.

Instead he hovered in this weird middle ground of tight posture, perched on the edge of his couch. Like he was afraid he'd shatter with one wrong move, like glass spun too thin.

Chim thinks he's not as put together as he likes to seem — especially now, with the break up hanging over his shoulders.

"Did he ever tell you about our first date?" Tommy asks, brows gently furrowed, the words falling out of his mouth and onto the floor. Chim just hums, he's listening, acknowledging the rhetorical question. Even now, his words feel carefully chosen, strung together in the gossamer shield that seems to hold Tommy together. He. Not Evan, not even Buck. Chim wonders if it's because he knew he'd stutter over which to call him.

It'd feel weird hearing the name Buck come out of his mouth. Hell, it feels weird when he calls him Chimney. There's something comforting about being Howie to him. Buck must feel much the same, Chim imagines, getting to be Evan to him. There's just something special about how Tommy says names. Like they're special, like it's an honour just to get the privilege to say it. Maybe Chim's reading too far into it.

He takes a sip of Tommy's craft beer, his own bottle cradled in his hand, and it goes down smooth. He turns to look at Tommy, at his friend, and tries to leave his face blank and carefully earnest. As much as he likes to joke and kid and tease, he knows when it's not the time for it, and Tommy is barely holding himself together. If he looks close enough, he's sure he can see the cracks. That spindly thread holding him in place.

"Dinner and a movie." Tommy continues, and his voice sounds almost carefully flat. Each word finding it's place on his tongue. Chim tilts his head to look at him as he speaks. "We went to Miceli's — this nice Italian place, Old Hollywood, y'know? — ate, got a pitcher and talked."

He huffs out a laugh, more an exhale of air than anything, smiles at the memory. Chim smiles with him. Whatever he's thinking, there's something genuine there. Can see it etched in the lines of his face, in the lines gathering in the corner of his eyes, the curve and tilt of his mouth.

He looks more himself than he has all evening. More like the Tommy that Chim met flying a helicopter through a hurricane, and the Tommy he re-befriended after. Snarky, and cool, and lighter than he ever was at the 118. Even after Chim saved his life. Even after Gerrard left. He seemed like almost an entirely different person. More open.

Turns out there's still a long way to go.

"Beer wasn't even that good," Tommy jokes, turning to Chim with an almost conspiratorial smile.

"Saved the good stuff for me, huh?" Chim teases, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm flattered."

"You should be, I got these on special order." Tommy teases back, gesturing to his beer bottle with his own. "Not sure they're even making them anymore — it was a limited edition batch, y'know?"

Chim lets him talk through the very clear tangent, the very clear distraction Tommy is letting himself go down. Talk about the craft beer he's passionate about, that he was saving. Neither of them bring up the very real possibility that Tommy was saving it for date night with Buck.

He takes a sip of the limited edition beer, and watches something flicker over Tommy's face. The smile fades, the teasing smirk, and he looks down at the floor. At the rug beneath their feet.

"But yeah. The beer wasn't great but I really liked talking with him. He was earnest, interesting, cute. There was something about him that really drew me in, y'know?" Tommy smiles again, another sad thing, that same flickering over his expression. A glimpse of the new Tommy, happier Tommy — before he's gone again. "But, uh, it really didn't seem like he had processed what it meant to date another man?"

Tommy dims, his voice quieting, Chim only hearing him by virtue of Tommy wanting him to hear. Tilting his head towards him. The silence around them roars, the softness of his voice easing through it.

"He still hasn't." He says, voice walking the line between that careful flatness from before and an undercurrent of sheer sadness. There's something raw about it, something real, even moreso than the Tommy he was after he left the 118. This is deep-seated stuff, this sadness.

Chim knew that Tommy liked Buck, he's not stupid, but it sort of hits him in the moment just how much. It may have just started with thinking the other man was cute, earnest, interesting, but there was no doubt about it that it had settled into something real about it for Tommy.

And now it sort of sounds like Buck wasn't. Chim doesn't quite know what to think, not with what he's seen of Buck — he's tasted his baking, saw him drowning in oversized hoodies and staring at his phone on shift.

Maybe he didn't show all that to Tommy? He doesn't know what to say, how to say it, so he doesn't. And fuck it's hard, keeping what he knows of Buck in, but he does. Takes another sip of beer. He wants to know what Tommy thinks.

"Eddie walked in the restaurant with his girlfriend — Marisol, I think? — and spotted us immediately." Tommy continues, voice still low and sad, but he looks at Chim with questioning brows as he mentions Marisol. To which Chim just nods. Must not have met her much then, he thinks. "Buck panicked."

Tommy pulls a face as he says it, Chim following suit, his face screwing up as he hears the name Buck fall out of Tommy's mouth. He's right, it sounds weird. It feels wrong. Not allowed. Like something wonderful and special has been taken back. Pulled away.

He lets the feeling sit weird and awkward in his gut, Tommy rescinding his right to call him Evan, and focuses on the words.

Buck panicked.

A joke is sitting on the tip of Chim's tongue, a snarky comment, something teasing. Guess he really bucked it up. He'd say it to ease the mood if he didn't think it would upset Tommy. Turning his name into something bad. Even though Chim doesn't mean it maliciously — that's his brother-in-law, after all.

"He'd only just told me that it was his first date with a guy — I was ready to play it off as just new friends grabbing a beer — I wasn't going to out him before he was ready. I'm not that sort of guy—"

"Hey." Chim interrupts. Tommy seems like he needs it. To be shaken out of it, his voice speeding up, just slightly, looking up at Chim with wide eyes. All these tells, all these signs, are so small and easily missed. If Chim wasn't looking he had a feeling it would fly right past him. "I know you're not. Buck knows you're not."

Tommy takes a deep breath. Shaky on the exhale. He looks like he needed to hear it, there's a small easing of the tension in his shoulders. But he wasn't going to ask for it. There's a lot more to Tommy then he wants it to seem on the outside. His befriending him, his move to Harbour, his coming out — all first steps in opening up. But maybe he hadn't taken any more.

So if telling Tommy he was a good dude, helped, then Chim would remind him. He was, of course. He saw the start of his journey first hand. He remembers that first hug in the locker room. Love actually, monster trucks, craft beer. He saw Tommy's evolution, of sorts. He saw how happy he made Buck, how happy he seemed in return.

"But…" Tommy continues, steadying his breath, getting himself under control.

"But Buck put his foot in it."

"Yeah," Tommy says with a shaky laugh, an exhale of air. He doesn't think it's funny. "He told Eddie we were going to go out and pick up hot chicks."

"Shit." Chim winces, hissing air through his teeth and cringing backwards. "On your first date?"

Tommy hums in affirmation. Lets out another small, humourless laugh. Face almost impassive, as if he's processing as he speaks. Rolling everything that happened through his mind like he's thumbing at a marble, running thought by thought like a string of rosary beads. Chim wonders if it's helping.

"I cut the date short." Tommy says simply, an almost wistful sadness to his words. Eyes faraway, thinking about what was and what could have been. "Left him outside the restaurant instead of taking him to the movie."

"Nothing wrong with that." Chim says carefully, turning to Tommy. Nudging his side with his elbow. Wiggles his eyebrows, plays it up. "Sounds like he deserved it."

"Maybe a little." Tommy admits with a weak smile. He sighs, stale breath falling out of his mouth, dropping the smile. Scuffing his socked feet against the rug. "I don't want to be too hard on him."

"I won't tell him if you won't," Chim jokes, tipping his beer bottle towards the other man, before drawing it to his mouth and taking a sip.

Tommy lets out a weak snort.

"Buck invited me back to Miceli's for our six month anniversary," Tommy continues on an exhale of air, and it seems like the battle is leaving him. Not that there was much to begin with. Tension seeping out of his shoulders and dripping onto the floor, easing into something sad. Something resigned. "Didn't tell me it was for our anniversary when he invited me, but we both knew what it was. Maybe we should have talked about it more."

"You can't get caught up in what-ifs, Tommy," Chim adds simply. He knows it's not that easy, stopping going down the spiral of what if things were different, what if you changed things, what if you did xyz. Before he met Maddie, with Tatiana — there were a lot of what-ifs. Hell, there might have been even more once he started dating Maddie. "I've been there, and it's never any good. Even for the little things. You'll just drive yourself crazy."

He watches the other man sigh, dropping his head again. Cradling his beer bottle in the palm of his hands. Thumbing gently at the label, picking at a loose corner wet from the moisture of the cool bottle. "Yeah, Maybe."

Tommy takes a deep breath, sips his beer, and continues. Still thumbing at the label of his bottle. "A lot like that first time, it was going good until the end."

"Maybe Miceli's is cursed?" Chim teases, smirk quirking up the corner of his mouth. "Like his cowboy."

He hears Tommy snort, as he looks out over his living room. He's been barely looking at him as they talk, but Chim doesn't mind. It's easier, he knows, when no one is looking at you. When you can't see their reactions, their emotions, what they think.

As nice as Tommy's living room is — very cozy, very homey, with rugs and throw blankets and plush furniture — he draws his eye to Tommy himself. Watches his face, his posture, the way he holds himself. Watches for the things he shows, but doesn't say.

"Some lady came up to our table mid-dinner. Blonde, very Hollywood-pretty." Tommy's voice drops as he speak. Low, but not quiet. The words falling out of his mouth as his eyes drift somewhere far away. "Skipped like three tables in order to get to us. Asked Buck to take a photo of her and her friends."

"Flirting." Chim comments.

"Very obviously. Didn't seem to care that we were in the middle of dinner." He sighs, his face almost sagging under the weight of the emotion in his words. "He's hot, I kind of can't blame her."

"Except you can." Chim notes, eyes scanning Tommy's face, watches the upset twitch of the muscles in his jaw. "Or you can blame Buck?"

"I don't know." Tommy admits, and he can see he's telling the truth. "Buck was flustered, looked at me, but when he went to take their photo he automatically went to use his phone and she asked if he was trying to get her number."

He purses his lips together as he speaks, as if he's trying to stop them from turning down into a frown. His brows furrowing. "Buck didn't get her number — obviously — took their photo and went to sit back down with me. But."

"It hurt anyway?" Chim assesses, shifting subtly so he's closer to Tommy on the couch. He looks like he needs it. Someone near. He hopes he's helping just by listening.

"So much." Tommy says on a shudder. "I didn't quite realise I was waiting for him to debuff her, to tell her he was on a date with his boyfriend — until he didn't. I didn't want to say anything, ruin the mood, make it all about me."

"Hey," Chim comments, voice warm and comforting. He places a hand on Tommy's back, hoping it's a comforting presence, a comforting weight on the man's broad frame. "It wouldn't have been making it all about you. Especially not what happened last time you were there."

"It felt like a step backwards. Like, he could tell his family he has a boyfriend, but he's still ashamed to be seen with a man in public." Tommy sighs, a sad almost pitiful thing. Leaning into the weight of Chim's hand on his back. "Especially around a pretty woman."

Oh Buck.

Chim just purses his lips, and gently rubs Tommy's back. Hand moving in gentle circles. He doesn't know what to say to that. He's had his own struggles in love, in work, but he's never felt like the people he's been with have been ashamed to be seen with him. Even Tatiana. She started dating a Chim that didn't exist, sure, but they went on dates in public. And people knew it.

There's no way Buck meant for that to be the way his actions were portrayed, the man is head over heels for his boyfriend — but he can see how it came across that way. He can see the way it was the crack that helped grow the rift between them.

He just hums, and lets him continue.

"I had a hard time coming out. Worked hard to finally be authentically myself. Upended my whole life to do it." Tommy admits, his voice wavering. Wet, and thick. Emotions pushing at the words, at each syllable, begging to be let out. "I can't be shoved back in the closet. Be some dirty little secret. Not again. I can't."

Wrapping an arm around Tommy's broad frame, the expanse of muscle, Chim rests his beer bottle on the table next to him and turns his attention towards the other man. The other man who really seems like he needs it right now.

Tommy never really talked about his experience coming out, and Chim didn't ask. It didn't feel like it was his place to do so. They became friends over their time at the 118, and they caught up for beers a couple times after Tommy had moved to the 217. And he had cottoned on that Tommy came out — but he didn't ask for specifics. He worked with Gerrard, he knew Tommy was in the army, he could guess what it was like.

It hurt knowing that Buck put him right back there. It hurt even more knowing he didn't do it on purpose. And from what he'd heard of the breakup from Maddie — there was some reversal there, with what Tommy said before he walked out.

But that wasn't helpful now.

Today was about Tommy. About letting him talk, process. And Chim was there to help. It's not like there was anyone else. Tommy kept people at arms length and the only other people close enough were going to be with Buck. Eddie, Maddie, Hen. So Chim went to Tommy's, and he doesn't regret it.

"When he asked me for a second chance, after that disastrous first date," Tommy started, Chim huffing out a small laugh. An exhale of air out his nose at the way Tommy said disastrous. And after hearing what happened, he kind of can't blame him. "He said sorry, of course. And then he told me he wasn't sure what he was ready for. But he was ready for something and he wanted it with me."

Tommy smiles sadly, and Chim smiles along with him. It sounds almost romantic. That rom-com shit that Tommy not-so secretly loves. Sweetness and romance and earnest declarations. No wonder he fell for Buck. The smile drops from Tommy's face just as soon as it had appeared. "I should have listened when he said he wasn't sure what he was ready for."

"What do you mean?" Chim prompts, more curious about what Tommy's going to say than anything else. He can guess, of course. Turns out that he wasn't ready for something with me after all.

"He asked me to move in, did he tell you that?" Tommy questions, turning to Chim with brows furrowed. Gesturing with his beer bottle as he talks. "Brought up marriage and everything."

That, Chim did know, and not from Maddie. Buck had brought it up at the station, talking to everyone in the kitchen, and Chim had to bite his lip to hold back the snark sitting on his tongue. Into your loft, Buck? You rent, and Tommy owns his house. He had excused himself to go sort inventory. With how distraught Buck seemed, that also wasn't the time. Even though Chim was right. And it sounds like Tommy thinks so too. He hums that he's listening.

"And I just — what if we did move in, what then?" Tommy continues, voice strained. Chim can feel his chest start to rise and fall faster underneath his hand. "What if we did move in and Buck realised that what he was ready for wasn't me? What if he wanted more? What if it's me holding him back from really looking at his sexuality, from being able to comfortably call someone his boyfriend in public?"

"And you panicked." Chim states.

"And I panicked." Tommy confirms, breath stuttering as he exhales. Clenching his hands, steadying himself, as he takes another shaky breath. "I couldn't handle it. The idea that he finally figures himself out and doesn't want me anymore. That I'm not enough. He said he admired me, that I was confident and comfortable, and was one of the brave queer people who came before him. And I felt like a fraud."

"I've been there." Chim admits, the words falling out of his mouth before he can really process them. He turns to look at Tommy, pulling a face as he continues. Tommy watches him speak with searching eyes, his gaze roaming his face. Tommy's shared so much, much more than it seems he has in a really long time — the least Chim can do is reveal some things of his own. " The feeling like a fraud thing, I mean. Years ago, I was dating this girl — Tatiana, I don't think you met her before you left the 118?" he continues with furrowed brows. Tommy just shrugs. "But that's beside the point."

Shaking his head, as if to shake off the words. Tommy doesn't say anything, and for a moment Chim wishes he still had that beer in his hands. Something to fidget with, that's not the shirt on Tommy's back.

"We were together for far longer than we should have been. I was always complaining to the others how bored she always was, how hard it was to impress her. Hot though." Tommy snorts at that, and it feels like a win. A little reprieve from all the heavy shit they've been sifting through. "So I started exaggerating the truth, shall we say."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Tommy jokes, turning towards him in return, smirking faintly. Chim notices he doesn't pull away from his hand resting on his back. So he doesn't move, and continues talking.

"I wasn't lying!" Chim laughs. "Everything I said really happened! It just wasn't me who did it." He pulls a face, and tilts his head, conceding his own point. "And dialled up to 11. But it wasn't a lie! Technically. Maybe."

"Okay so you were lying."

"Yeah." Chim sighs. "Probably. I took things others did on call, went back to my apartment, and told her wild tales about what daring stunts I had done. Saving children and animals. Doing The Maneuver. I had to go home and pretend everyday."

And that gets Tommy listening, the smile fading into something earnest, attentive. He's hanging on Chim's every word now. It feels a little weird, oddly raw — telling Tommy these things. Most people he'd be comfortable knowing were there watching that relationship unfold. He's never had to tell anyone before.

"But I was so desperate for a family, a connection, something," Chim says, trying not to focus on Tommy's eyes drilling holes in the side of his head. "That I was willing to lie to my girlfriend to do it. Let her manipulate me, shape me, blind me to what was going on." He lets out a shaky breath, but powers through. For Tommy. "It blew up in my face of course."

"How so?"

"I proposed to her, she said no, told me she cheated on her ex-fiance, and then I got rebar through the skull."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Howie," Tommy exclaims, words falling out on the exhale.

"Not I'm not saying that that's going to happen to you,"Chim jokes, sliding his hand across Tommy's back and gesturing at him. He slides his voice into something more serious. "Or even that's what you and Evan were doing, just that I get it. It's hard."

"Yeah," Tommy shudders. "I spent so much of my life pretending, half the time not even knowing that it's what I was doing, that I don't know if I know how to stop anymore."

"And you think Buck saw a version of you that wasn't there?"

"Fuck, maybe?" Tommy says, brow furrowed unsure. He turns to look at Chim, a little distraught, pulling a face, before he turns away again. Stares back into the deep black of his TV Screen. "Probably. Which is probably my own fucking fault, not talking to him. But it's not like he asked either?"

"Do you think you wanted to be asked?" Chim prompts, guessing the answer is going to be another maybe. Or at least — that's what Tommy is going to tell him the answer is. He has a feeling the answer is secretly, obviously, yes. Tommy Kinard wants to be known, craves it so desperately, but is terrified of it in equal measure.

"If he did ask," Tommy starts, voice flat again, mouth down turned as he speaks. "It would have shattered the pedestal it felt like he put me on. And I don't know if that's worse."

Chim hums that he's listening again.

"He said he admired me, and Howie, you knew me way back then — there's nothing to admire."

Now that is just a blatant lie. There is something to admire about overcoming what Tommy overcame, about getting out and coming out. But he really doesn't think Tommy wants to hear it. He wouldn't believe it. He didn't believe it when Buck said it — the person he's most likely to believe.

Chim's not Buck, and he's only heard bits and pieces about his thought process, what he was going through on his side of things — but there's no way Buck meant that maliciously either. He knows about Buck being thrown for a loop, about talking to Maddie and Josh and something about Glee? But he knows for sure that the core of Buck's admiration for Tommy is love.

He loves him, and is proud of him. The man he was and the man he's become. His big beautiful boyfriend who's come so far and settled into himself.

It just sounds like Tommy's shit runs a lot deeper than anyone knew. Maybe even Tommy himself. He's learning so much about Tommy, here on his couch, the two of them spilling their guts. It's kind of nice, getting to know him more, this absent sort of friend he's know for over a decade.

He just wishes it wasn't like this.

"I'm not comfortable. I'm not confident. Not about this." Tommy says, shaking his head, and Chim wraps his arm back around his friend. "I'm not some paragon of gay rights. Gay pride. Someone who paved the way for those who came after, like he said when he brought up marriage. Fuck."

He shudders out another shaky breath, and Chim wishes he knew what to say. What joke to crack to make it all better. But he doesn't, so he listens. Just stays there for his friend. It feels like a long time since anyone has been there for Tommy. Not until Buck, at least.

"Did you know I've never been to pride?" Tommy asks, and Chim swears he can see his bottom lip wobble as he says that. Just ever so slightly. Until Tommy ducks his head, bowing it in a facsimile of prayer. Eyes shut, lashes shadowing his cheeks, that wobble to his bottom lip. "It always just made me feel like I didn't deserve to be there. Like I don't count. So I don't go."

Chim squeezes his side, draws him in like Tommy isn't bigger than him. Like he can tuck him underneath his arm completely, curled up like a sad roly poly of a man. There's nothing he can say to this. He'd go with Tommy to L.A. pride in a heartbeat, bring the whole 118 if it would make him feel better. But he really doesn't know if it would. Like a dehydrated man drowning in the depths of the ocean, it feels a little like throwing him to the sharks.

"I've always wanted to. Go to pride, that is." Tommy whispers. He clears his throat and looks at Howie. "He admired me because I'm one of brave queer men who paved the way to gay marriage, and I can't even go to pride without feeling like a fake."

He's never seen Tommy this open, this exposed, like ever. Even after years of friendship.It kind of hurts to see, pulls at his heartstrings hurts, seeing just how broken and vulnerable he is. Chim doesn't know what to say. What can he say about pride, without sounding fake himself. Like a well-meaning ally extending himself too much.

He knows about learning about your own culture, about exploring that part of yourself, he just doesn't know if now is the time to say it.

"I'm scared, Howie." Tommy admits quietly, sadly. "I'm scared that Buck is going to finally start learning about the queer community, about our depressing history, about what being a queer man means to him — and he'll realise that I have no part in that."

"So you broke your own heart before he could break yours." Tommy nods at Chim's words. He carefully doesn't mention that he broke Buck's as well. He wonders if a part of Tommy knew that would be a side effect. But that maybe the breakup would give him room to figure himself out, label his sexuality, and then he's ready to move on. Be a happy queer man, without the queer elder who opened the doors and stepped away. Who lived through the shit so he could live in the sun.

Howie can't say for sure, only guess, and he doubts either of them are going to tell him.

Neither of them are moving on.

Chim can't even be too mad at the guy for breaking Buck's heart. His own brother-in-law. He's clearly miserable himself, and his words just make him think of Maddie.

"Maddie left, you know?" Chim says, hand rubbing in gentle circles on Tommy's back. He looks across the living room, past the TV, and out the window into Tommy's backyard. Now it's his turn to take a deep breath. "She thought she was doing the right thing, and I don't dispute that — that she thought she was doing what was right for Jee, and for herself, and for us."

He takes another deep, shuddering breath, and looks back at Tommy with a wry look on his face. "But it sucked."

Tommy drops his head, curving his body towards the floor. Hiding his expression, his misty eyes, but from the flash Chim could see — he looks almost ashamed. Which wasn't Chim's intention, to make Tommy feel bad. He just wanted to lay it all out, share his perspective, share Buck's perspective.

"If she needed time, if she needed to slow down, hell — if she needed space — I just wish I could've been there to give it to her." Chim says, still careful to not reveal too much about his time separated from Maddie. Her journey. It was hers to tell, but he thinks the perspective could help Tommy.

Maddie was a runner, the person who leaves — and maybe Tommy is too. Maddie is Buck's sister, first and foremost — But Chim thinks it'd be good for them to talk to one another. She gets it. Just like he gets Buck, the person left behind. He hopes he's helping, telling Tommy this. Voicing his perspective.

"You chased after her?" Tommy asks, looking up at Chim, almost as if he's stating a fact, not voicing a question. They both know what the entirety of chased after implies.

"Of course." Chim replies, nodding. "I love her."

Tommy's eyes start to water again — not that they ever stopped — and Chim sees the light reflect through watery tears before Tommy bows his head again. Doesn't let him look, hides the way his face contorts as tears start to fall. His voice is thick and wet as he speaks.

"I love him, you know?" Tommy says, sounding all choked up, and Chim's heart clenches at the sound. He wraps his arm around his friend, and tugs gently, pulling him towards his side. "I didn't think it'd hurt this much."

Chim doesn't say anything, just holds Tommy as he starts to cry.

[vofriviasblog]

Priority

SUMMARY - After Quidditch practice, Draco prefers to return to his beloved and spend time with her in the comfort of his private quarters rather than attending a party with his team.

AUTHORS NOTE - This is my first fic. I hope you enjoy it! Comments and reblogs are welcome!

Draco was exhausted after practice. As the captain, he decided with the team to increase the number of practices per week to prepare as best as possible for the upcoming match against their eternal rival, Gryffindor. Sweat cascaded down the Slytherin's face. All he dreamed of now was a shower and his beloved waiting for him in the prefect's quarters. Just the thought brought a wide smile to Draco's face.

He patted each team member on the back as a sign of thanks for their presence and commitment, then headed towards the castle. He hadn't gone far when his good friend Blaise Zabini appeared in his line of sight, panting as if he'd run a marathon.

"Hey, hey, where are you going?"

"To the castle?" he raised an eyebrow in a questioning gesture, as if urging his friend to spit out what he had to say and leave him alone.

"Aren't you staying for the party? Mattheo got the best juices for drinks from the kitchen! Do you know how many nights it took us to find the house-elves' stash to get our hands on these wonders!?" Before Draco could answer, Blaise was already rushing with the answer. "The answer is too many. So you can't slip away now, you'll miss all the fun."

"Sounds pretty good. You deserve great respect for your perseverance in your mission, but I have to decline the invitation. I already have other plans that can't wait any longer."

"What?!?!?! Man, don't do this to me. This is the second time you've decided that the party isn't for you. What plans are more important than your buddies, hmm?" the dark-skinned boy looked at the blond with undisguised irritation, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Y/N is waiting in my quarters. I want to spend the evening with her," Draco couldn't help but smile as he said this, and just mentioning his beloved's name made his heart beat faster. Blaise, on the other hand, looked at the blond with his mouth agape as if he were an alien.

"Man, you're ditching us, your buddies, for a girl!?"

"Yes. Is that so strange?" Draco couldn't understand his friend's exaggerated reaction.

"Yes! That's exactly the same reason Nott used to decline the invitation. You're becoming terribly boring!" The blond rolled his eyes and replied, "You're such a kid. You'll understand me and Theo when you have a girlfriend. I heard Astoria doesn't like parties." This fact effectively shut Zabini up, who was ready to retort with a sharp comeback. All he did was widen his eyes and watch his friend until he disappeared behind the castle doors leading to the dormitories.

The sight that greeted Draco as he entered his prefect's room was the best balm for his sore muscles. His beloved lay comfortably on his bed, engrossed in a book about magical creatures. Draco had bought her this book a few days ago during a trip to Hogsmeade. The image of her sparkling eyes with happiness would stay with him for the rest of his days. He loved bringing her joy with such small things. This way, he wanted to convey that he thought of her every hour of the day and night.

Draco took a breath to calm his racing heart a bit, then walked lightly towards the bed. The sound of his footsteps pulled the girl out of the fictional world. At the sight of her boyfriend, Y/N smiled brightly, causing an equally wide smile on the blond's face.

"Hey."

"Good evening, beautiful," the girl's cheeks flushed at this term. She tried to hide her embarrassment by burying her face in the book. The boy's smile widened even more. He wouldn't trade this moment for any party. He lived for these moments filled with peace and love.

Without waiting any longer, he threw himself onto the bed with a thud, causing the girl there to squeal, completely unprepared for it. Like a snake, he wrapped his beloved in a tight embrace, as if he'd been waiting for this all day.

"Draco!!! You're all sweaty and dirty with soil. You'll ruin the sheets!"

"I don't care. I've waited too long to have you in my arms. No dirt or sweat can stop me from completing this task," the boy's serious tone elicited a peal of laughter.

"Sweetheart, you need to take a shower and change."

"No."

"Draco..."

"No," the boy, to further show his protest, tightened his embrace, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! You are going to take a shower right now, or I'll go back to my dormitory," the blond, with obvious reluctance and a look of a beaten dog, obeyed his girlfriend's command.

When he returned to the room, refreshed and dressed in more comfortable clothes, his face still bore the look of a martyr. Y/N, familiar with his antics, smiled at him innocently and opened her arms in an inviting gesture. The boy, with undisguised joy, jumped into her arms. As soon as he settled comfortably, Y/N's hands went to his hair. Draco practically purred with pleasure as his beloved played with his hair.

"How did practice go?"

"Pretty well. We're well prepared for the upcoming match."

"I'm very glad."

"Will you come to the match?" the boy looked at her pleadingly. He knew perfectly well that when he did this, his beloved couldn't refuse him.

"Of course, darling," she kissed his forehead, receiving in return a look full of gratitude and adoration. "I heard from Pansy that the Slytherins are having a party in the main dormitory," she got only a quiet "mhmm" from the boy, so she continued. "Don't you want to go?"

"Nope."

"But why? You'd spend some time with your friends."

"I'll pass. I'd much rather spend my time with you than drinking with that idiot Zabini. You, my dearest, are my priority. I will always choose you first, no matter what I'm offered," to emphasize the seriousness of his declaration, Draco propped himself up on his hands to level his face with hers. The boy placed a gentle, deep kiss on the girl's lips, leaving her breathless. Yes, this was definitely his favorite way to spend evenings.

[tls12lessthan3]

ok so. the thing about jang hayoung is. her being transgender is explicitly meant to represent her autonomy as a person, and show how limited kim dokja's understanding of twsa is. like jang hayoung as the character kim dokja knows from twsa is perhaps the character who brings up the biggest questions re: character's personhood because kim dokja literally designed her, she's his oc. so we are forced to question her the most - are her traits and personality more attributable to her own choices, or are they entirely kim dokjas, for example. kim dokja knows everything about her, she was entirely his idea, and it leads to all sort of ethical dilemmas about exactly how much she can be considered her own person and what exactly their relationship to each other is.

or it would, if jang hayoung doesn't neatly sidestep all that 'does she even truly exist outside of kim dokja's perception of her' nonsense by looking firmly into the camera and saying yes, obviously. he doesn't even know im a girl! so her gender is used to establish both her autonomy as a real human being AND demonstrate that kim dokja really doesn't know as much as he thinks he does, because hey it turns out even if you create them yourself people are sort of unknowable. i wonder if that relates to any of jang hayoung's themes about communication or something

anyway. these are two ideas firmly shoved into kim dokja's face by jang hayoung's gender identity, and they are two ideas he is deeply uncomfortable with. they force him to confront some thoughts he's been deeply suppressing and conflict heavily with his worldview. and unfortunately, sing shong decided to represent this discomfort with what jang hayoung's gender establishes by showing it as discomfort with jang hayoung's gender itself. that is not to say that kim dokja isn't being organically transphobic when he misgenders jang hayoung, just that that distaste for a conflict within his (gendered) worldview represents his distaste for a conflict within his (reader) worldview.

and this is bad. this is clearly a very transphobic and specifically trans misogynistic way to demonstrate this idea. its genuinely very distasteful to me that they decided to use a trans woman character like this. it casts a dark cloud over her character and the interesting things her transness represents - as well as one over the entire novel, not helped by the many other instances of transphobia we see. and i want to clarify that i do see it as bad and distasteful before i draw the following comparison, because as much as i love reclaiming homophobic and transphobic parts of the stories i like, i am deeply cautious of doing so without clearly acknowledging the harm they cause. also, i am a trans man, so i want to tread carefully when it comes to transphobia against trans women specifically.

but i do think its notable that sing shong clearly establish this link between transgenderism and autonomy and struggling to be understood within the story, and then give us a main character who's entire life has revolved around chasing those latter two things. a character who spends the arc jang hayoung stars in either in an opposite-sex-transformation or learning a 'woman only' sport as a 'man'. yoo joonghyuk, just like jang hayoung, is a character who challenges kim dokjas ideas about what it means to be a person vs character. yoo joonghyuk's entire arc is about chasing that autonomy that jang hayoung so clearly establishes through being transgender. yoo joonghyuk spends multiple arcs trying to get through to kim dokja that he does not understand yoo joonghyuk just because he happened to read about him in the way that jang hayoung clearly does when she declares herself a woman.

this is a line that the story draws for me, not one im drawing on my own - this is a link between the autonomy yoo joonghyuk wants and the gender identity jang hayoung has that orv has already firmly established (although in a frequently transphobic way). and i think thats extremely interesting to acknowledge and explore, i think its a very clear part of yoo joonghyuk's character in this arc that never really goes away. and thats (part of) why yoo joonghyuk's end is [transition]

[yuurei20]

Hi I anon'd before about a rumor write-up and you said to submit specific things, so I went around and collected some I saw people talking about. You don't have to go into a ton of detail if you don't want to but a yes/no on these would be great, thank you.

Kalim was accepted to RSA but his family bribed him into NRC

Trey and Cater are roommates in the game but not in the novels

Toboso Yana confirmed that there is more to come after Chapter 7 (people keep saying RSA content is confirmed?)

Yuu is the housewarden of Ramshackle

Deuce's signature spell doubles the force of the attack he is hit with

Yuu appears in groovied art like Ace's ceremonial robes and Leona's labwear coat

Hello hello! Thank you for these questions! It is easier to prove that a thing has happened than it is to prove a thing hasn't happened 💦 But will do my best to be brief!

In Summary 1. No in-game proof (as of this post) 2. Disproven (Wish Upon a Star, Trey MyRoom Birthday) 3. No proof (as of this post) 4. No: "Housewarden" (寮長) and "Prefect" (監督生) are two different things! 🦐 5. No: Deuce explains that his magic only "stores" damage 6. No: those are both Epel! 🍎

Details/Sources:

Rumor: "Kalim was accepted to RSA but his family bribed him into NRC" Status: No proof

It has been often hinted in the game that Kalim was homeschooled prior to NRC, and we received outright confirmation that he had never been to a school in Book 7 (censored awkwardly below for spoilers).

While it is still technically possible that he received a letter to RSA and ignored it, this has never been stated in-game.

All we know is that Jamil was admitted to NRC and Kalim's letter of acceptance arrived one month later, with no mention of Kalim attending any other school or receiving any other letters in the interim.

Rumor Source: This is possibly from confusion with Jamil's overblot monologue and Kalim's delayed admittance!

During Jamil's flashback we see that he went to Crowley to ask him to not allow Kalim's promotion to housewarden, where Crowley says that "providing education comes with costs" and Kalim's family has been "quite generous in their support," but this was about his ascension to housewarden, not about his admittance.

Jamil does have a whispered line in Book 5 about how he suspects that Crowley also accepted a bribe for Kalim's enrollment but Jamil does not actually know, and neither do we!

He may be proven right in the future, but not as of this post :>

Rumor: "Trey and Cater are roommates in the game but not in the novels" Status: Disproven

We learn during Wish Upon a Star that Cater and Trey roomed together during their first two years at NRC, but this is not the case for their third year.

In addition to confirmation that all third-year students at the school have private rooms (more here) the new "Relaxing MyRoom" birthday series goes into a lot of detail about who has who for a roommate, confirming that Jade and Floyd room together while Trey is alone (Cater's birthday is not here yet!)

Rumor Source: I am not sure where this one would have come from! Maybe confusion over Cater's Wish Upon a Star wording, being misinterpreted as "We did room together (and we still do now but we did before, too)"?

Rumor: "Toboso Yana confirmed that there is more to come after Chapter 7 (people keep saying RSA content is confirmed?)" Status: No proof

Explained in more detail here!

Rumor Source: There was a new interview released along with Book 7-2, within which Yana says, "Going forward things are going to be on a much larger scale, incorporating not only the vertical and horizontal axes of the story but also expanding upon elements such as a present, past and future. Look forward to Book 7 (currently on chapter 2)!"

This was before any of us knew the direction that things were going to go in, but now--almost two years later--it seems very much like she was hinting about the events of Book 7 itself rather than anything beyond :>

This does not mean that there is not more to come after Book 7 or that an RSA arc is an impossibility! But nothing has been mentioned as of this post ^^

Rumor: Yuu is the housewarden of Ramshackle Status: No, housewardens and the prefect are very much two different things!

Deuce explains that the player character was put in charge of Grim, saying nothing about them being in charge of Ramshackle Dorm.

It is possible they also could have been named the "Grim Warden," but they were called the prefect, instead :>

(a similar ask was received before and the answer went wildly off track, but for reference!)

Rumor Source: I am not sure! Maybe confusion over whether or not "Housewarden" and "Prefect" were the same word in the original game, made into two words for EN? (They are very much two different words on JP, too, accurately localized for EN!)

Rumor: "Deuce's signature spell doubles the force of the attack he is hit with" Status: No, Deuce explains his unique magic directly to everyone in Book 5!

He says: "I wasn't the one who made it so strong. Vil was. That spell stores up all the damage I take from someone, then hits back with it all at once. So it was only potent because Vil hit me with really potent magic to start with."

He does not take credit for his magic "doubling" Vil's attack, saying outright that all he does is store the magic he is hit with and then reflects it back upon his attacker, so he can only hit with the same degree of strength that strikes him.

Rumor Source: This one probably came from the English-language localization of Deuce's UM ^^ In the original game it is called "Bet the Limit" (and this can be heard in the audio, as he says it in English), but it was changed to "Double Down" on EN!

Both "Bet the Limit" (poker) and "Double Down" (Blackjack) are card-playing terms!

Why this was changed is unclear! I agree that it does sound very much like "doubling" is what Deuce's magic should do, but it doesn't--hence why he never uses the word "double" in his actual dialogue!

More here:

Rumor: "Yuu appears in groovied art like Ace's ceremonial robes and Leona's labwear coat" Status: Disproven. They are both Epel! The prefect has never been represented visually in any artwork in the game or novels.

Rumor Source: I am not sure where the rumor for Ace's would have come from, as the prefect had not entered the world at the time of this scene 🧐

The prefect is present in the scene of Leona's labwear, but in dialogue Leona explains how he has picked up only Epel and Grim.

He threatens to pick up the prefect but does not actually do so. Maybe the rumor is from before the EN server was released, back when it was more common to try and understand the vignettes based on the visuals alone? :>

[mizu0xox0]

Self aware! Lighter who feels something watching him...the same presence he felt in the underground once except this time it's stronger and it lasts longer.

Self aware! Lighter who starts questioning his existence when he learns he's in a video game. Was his mercenary friends dying all just for someone's mere entertainment? Was all the debt he racked up for his mercenary friends families just for a compelling story narrative? Could he have saved his mercenary friends that day or even joined them during their deaths? He's never felt so powerless and defeated even though he is the undefeated champion of the Sons Of Calydon.

Self aware! Lighter who is at a loss of whether or not his life is really his anymore or mere entertainment for whoever is watching their lives play out in this game...but then again maybe you're not at fault after all maybe you weren't the maker of this game and maybe you aren't to blame right?

Self aware! Lighter who tries to get used to living his life as usual and pretending that being a video game character isn't such a big impact on his life after all. That his whole life is a lie. He can't think that after all the Sons Of Calydon still need him so he needs to stay strong for them. He won't be defeated no not now.

Self aware! Lighter who doesn't know how to feel about the proxy who's helping him. He gets it that whoever is watching them somewhat inhabiting the proxies mind but he realizes most of the things the proxy does is on their own accord and not because of this entity watching them which is odd? But then again it might be a video game mechanic and after all as observant Lighter is he notices in some instances where the proxies actions might not be their own. For example they stare too long at him? Odd but he could pass it off as a coincidence or could he? After all he was rather sure he heard a faint voice of gushing about him he would have missed it if the winds were too strong but luckily today they weren't.

Self aware! Lighter who hears a voice feels sorry about him when he reveals his pass slowly to the proxy? Is this voice you? The one whose presence everyone felt? The one who's playing this video game? Lighter doesn't need your pity after all he was just a video game character just entertainment to you but the way you react makes him think twice about such a thought after all you were still human and you didn't seem to realize he's conscious in this game

Self aware! Lighter who feels a little embarrassed when you gush about him when he feels shy when being called handsome? Sure he could pass it off as the proxy is joking and surely you're right? And no he doesn't look cute when embarrassed right plus he's not embarrassed it's just well even he isn't sure how to word it. But it's kind of cute how you gush about him and his antics.

Self aware! Lighter who picks up on topics from your world whenever you ramble while playing the game. Oh? A new season of a show you like is coming out well good for you. Oh? Something bad happened to you today, well he's not sure if he can help much but if letting it out makes you feel better might as well. Lighter as observant as he is he makes sure to not miss any details whenever he hears you speak while playing after all it's in such moments when no one's around that some people will talk about their lowest and highest points in life and he's glad to hear from you after all it feels like some connection not that you know of...

Self aware! Lighter who can't help but feels a little bad for you whenever you use him in combat and one of his teammates accidentally dies. It's not like he can help when he's programmed with a voice line to say that...he feels bad that you feel guilty for making him experience another loss again even though they'll respawn he still feels bad for making you feel that way when hearing his voice line even if it's somewhat your fault..

Self aware! Lighter who feels a little closer to you as time goes on especially if you pulled for him and got him. Even if you didn't manage to get him in time he'll guarantee that he'll try to come home to you in his what's that called? Rerun. Yeah that.

Self aware! Lighter who feels a warm feeling in his heart when you wish him happy birthday. I mean sure the Sons Of Calydon and the Proxies had wished him a happy birthday as well but from you he wasn't sure why it was different...and if you go as far as to draw or make something for him for his birthday or even celebrate by buying cake well now that feeling just got even warmer something akin to butterflies in his stomach or whatever that saying is. It's kind of silly seeing you who he doesn't even know how you look like wishing him a happy birthday and even celebrating for him. Maybe one day he could do the same for you and maybe he'd actually get to see you one day...

Self aware! Lighter who one day wishes to take you on his bike not as the proxy or Euos just you in the flesh to see the sunset with him..after all you're just as warm as the sun...

Thank you so much for reading this and once again Happy Birthday Lighter! I wrote this while watching Link Click Bridon arc so I apologize if the writing was a little glum for this as sure it's just the first episode but I'm already sobbing. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this and I apologize if Lighter sounds OOC. And also I'm trying to experiment with my writing style as of now. Thank you for reading and any constructive criticism or feedback is appreciated!

[toxinoire]

The craziest thing about Epic is that it didn't need Ody's canon to The Odyssey SA to show that Odysseus has lost his own autonomy anyway.

He embraces his side as "the monster" until you question, is he really? Or did he really have no choice?

Looking at the line of "I am not your kind and gentle husband" makes me think back to Just A Man.

It is shown that Odysseus really hates being soldier. He had no choice but to kill the infant because Zeus told him to. And Troy? If we look at The Iliad, he didn't want to go to war from the beginning. And this is the first real time he loses a part of him; his kindness makes him argue with Zeus, his gentleness makes him willing to raise the boy. But he couldn't defy the King of The Gods.

And then Polites tries to bring those parts back, even unintentionally. But Athena tries to tell him he can't do that--his mentor contributes to losing those aspects of himself.

Next is when Polites dies, and well, that's self explanatory.

Another is when Polyphemus kills some of his crew. Part of his identity is being a captain, a king. He knows how to lead people. But then shit went down and he slowly fails to be captain anymore.

And then Poseidon adds onto making Odysseus lose that side of himself more by killing majority of his men.

Circe's Island made him hold onto the scraps of being a captain he has left in him. But even so, Circe tried to lust him so she could kill him, which itself is bad. Though Circe lets them go, even though Ody was unaware of Circe almost killing him, that itself made him hold onto the husband part of him more. That's what got him out of it.

So the Underworld. He hears the screams of his men, and their last thoughts blaming him. Their last thoughts being "Captain, why would you let the Cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy-" is them blaming Odysseus for their deaths. This makes him lose more of his captain side.

Then he sees Polites, and then his mom. He breaks down again after we last saw him do so in Troy.

And then Tiresias shows him his fate, which he misinterprets. Why? We all know the man is him, but why did he not think it was him? He was holding onto the husband part of him the most, so much that it blinded him.

So here comes song 20.

And in the Thunder Saga, we see him lose more of his gentleness and kindness. He's also barely holding onto being a captain by a thread.

Scylla is the entire explanation.

Mutiny is the last bit of that thread and it finally snapped during Thunder Bringer. He lost his leadership, he's no longer a captain. And quite frankly, it traumatized him so much already.

Calypso's island, though this version makes Calypso naive, she, like Jorge said, is ruthless in her own way. He was trapped. He was probably still holding onto the husband aspect of him subconsciously, as to why he never slept with her. But it was buried pretty deep.

"All I hear are screams" Who's to say he hadn't been hearing this for the past seven years, but that day he was so close to losing to those screams. He lost his side of being a captain, he lost his side of being a friend, he lost his side of being gentle and kind.

So his side as a husband is all he could hold onto anymore in The Vengeance Saga. During Full Speed Ahead, we see his king aspect through the lyric "Ithaca's waiting, my kingdom is waiting" but in Dangerous, he has no more king aspect. It's just him wanting to be home to his family at this point.

And then he loses himself more in Six Hundred Strike, as he lost his last bits of mercy when Poseidon offered him none. All that's left of him is wanting to be with Penelope, and his hopes of finally seeing his son.

The suitors' plans had been horrible. But honestly, he would have killed them anway even if they hadn't planned shit. He lost his patience for threats, he lost his mercy, his gentlessness. He is still cunning, but he's gone. Odysseus, King of Ithaca, is gone. "Old king" He's still king by title, but can he really manage a whole kingdom anymore? Like he used to since he was thirteen?

If it had not been for Penelope, he never would have embraced that he, no matter what, is still just a man, no matter how monstrous. But he lost so much of himself, and he knows. He lost his own autonomy, he lost what he knew of himself.

Finally holding his son and his wife yelling at him made him understand that he's still human, but post Epic/The Odyssey the man is already so traumatized, that he most likely forgot so many things of himself. He lost what made him Odysseus, King of Ithaca, which is a BIG part of him. Odysseus, husband of Penelope, father lof Telemachus, is all that's left of him. While those may be the most important parts of him, he's still traumatized, and only knows of himself as a monster now.

He is, quite frankly, no longer him.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

We all know that the real reason you hate Veilguard is that non-white people have agency and power in the story, unlike your precious BG3 fetishizing racism. Imagine you giving a shit about the fact that Karlach's story is incomplete because Sven Vincke believes that oppressed minorities deserve racist abuse.

Okay so obviously this ask wasn't sent in good faith (and bizzare considering Karlach, Lae'zel and Wyll are my favs in Bg3 and I've been outspoken about disappointment in their treatment by Larian compared to Astarion but I digress). But it has prompted an interesting thought because....

What agency do characters (any, but especially our non-white as anon has pointed out) have in Veilguard? I think of any RPG (maybe even any videogame?) the Veilguard companions have the LEAST agency I've seen.

All RPGs involve an element of helping to decide your companions fate; will Merrill smash the mirror or keep it? Will Isabela come back? Will Alistair become a warden, a king or a drunk? Will Leliana let ruthlessness or compassion rule her? And how you play does effect this; often there are important choices at certain moments.

I think these decisions in general work better when they're slowly built up over a number of choices (e.g. Leliana in DAI, who will be divine) or come from approval/disproval (Merrill smashing the mirror if she feels she has nobody on side vs. keeping it if she feels she has you at her back). This is because in these situations the characters are not just asking what to do to the player they are influenced by numerous situations and circumstances and that effects the decisions they make.

But veilguard...well. the approval system doesn't exist. None of the companions can hate or dislike Rook, they can only like you to various degrees of intensity. So that doesn't effect anything. They have no agency over their relationships and whether or not they like someone. And there is a total of one choice which I would say truly affects the game long term (maybe you can argue two if you say a meaningful decision with long reaching consequences can happen an hour before the game ends) and even making that choice won't really sour Lucanis or Neve against you fully.

I've mentioned a few times that veilguard companions have no line in the sand; they're very maluable to just...whatever Rook tells them. None of them have strong opinions about magic, religion, race, culture, society. Is that agency? Is it agency to water down a character so they have no stance on anything? Can a companion HAVE agency if they don't have any real negative opinions ever? If they never truly get to be influenced by the world to make decisions for themselves?

Each companion has a choice of two endings and Rook makes them for the companion in question. DA has done this kind of decision before (Bull comes to mind) but they've never followed such a formulaic system in which everyone looks to Rook at one moment and decides the fate of their lives (and in Bellaras case their people) from one decision the player makes. The companions don't push back against Rook for making a choice they dislike or regret letting Rook make for them. When you chose to kill Avelines husband for her she is pissy at you YEARS later for making that decision for her in the moment. In veilgurd there is just. Nothing. They lack any real agency in the narrative at all that can last beyond the scene they're in.

This I think is particularly aggregious with Bellara and Taash; Bellaras agency in the narrative is completely bulldozed by the fact that Rook is allowed to decide whether or not she keeps the archive spirit; something with deep significance to the Dalish/her culture. There's an excellent post about how this is akin to book burning even if DA didn't mean for it to be. You can just tell her to get rid of it and she does! No regrets! Because her culture is never truly at the forefront of her storyline it's viewed as something tangential to who she is; something she can easily discard if you tell her to. Is that agency? She doesn't get mad at you for any particular decision, is that agency?

And then Taash...God Taash deserved so much better. They're living a story about lack of binaries and yet every single choice is about forcing them in one. Taash says they're happy being multicultural at the beginning of the story and you slowly but surely strip that from them and you're FORCED to do so. Is that agency for them? Is that what you think giving characters agency Is? Is that not one of the more racist/insensitive options Bioware has EVER placed before a player.

Davrin spends the narrative learning there is more to him than having to die at the end of a hard fight; he becomes a father, and allows his love of Assan to guide him in the sense that Assan acts as a mirror; just as the griffins can be reframed as protectors of Arlathan rather than just wardens doomed to die so can Davrin...but then they decided that Davrin should be up as the choice of who dies and not only that but they made that decision because they thought players would find it hard to chose between ASSAN and Harding not Davrin and Harding. Which. Is gross. I do think Davrins storyline is handled the best out of everyone which is why he's my favourite, but the ending just adds a bad taste to my mouth.

Neve, Dorian, Mae and the Black Divine are happy to leave their countries future political situation to a complete outsider no questions or disagreements mentioned. Is that uhhh. Is that agency?

Even Solas is stripped of any agency in this narrative; Mythal made him do it! If she says he can stop he will! What? Where did THAT come from? How uninteresting does that make Solas?

As for if the Veilguard companions have power or are in positions of power....I guess? Maybe? Neve can be the leader of a smuggler gang (don't think too hard about what they might smuggle in the slave capital of the world) which is a position of power. Or an...inspiration? Which gives her very little concrete steps towards actually helping docktown. Lucanis can lead the crows I guess? That's powerful...altho he doesn't seem to want the position or be able to refuse it or even complain about it. We have no idea or clue what happens to Harding, Davrin, Taash after the game but hey maybe that's because they could all be dead.

The characters ARE powerful ill give you that. We have some immensely powerful mages in our party and I LOVE every scene where Neve throws up a sheild or places herself as a shield to protect her friends. I wish we'd got to see more of Bellaras science and tinkering smarts but what we get is GREAT. But having a powerful character isn't the same as a character having agency in their story or being able to effect meaningful change.

So yeah. I mean. Obviously bad faith anon straw manning me because I dared to have an opinion about a game they happen to like (and liking the game is fine! I like parts of the game! I think the characters deserved better but hey ho). But I think it's interesting to think about agency and power in this narrative because....I don't think anyone actually gets much of it. Certainly not in comparison to previous DA characters like Blackwall, Leliana, Viv, Zevran, Fenris, Anders, Merrill, Isabela etc.

[777heavengirl]

the one with the walk home

sirius black x reader ! - 1,272 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: no one say anything about how this is a few hours late- also i am scoring close to what i need on my practice exams and i am ECSTATIC

“I love you too,” Sirius looked up at you, as you answered his statement from hours ago. The walk from the hospital had been a silent one until now. After you bid your goodbyes to the new parents, the two of you decided to take the tube back to your flat, his hand finding yours as you walked under the mellow hue of the streetlights. His hand was enough to make you forget any embarrassment from wearing an oversized suit jacket on top of your pajamas through the streets. “just by the way-”

Sirius broke into laughter, brief and fleeting but it left a smile in its place. 

“D’you really?” He shoved you with his shoulder, your arms extending before he pulled you back to his side. “Couldn’t tell,”

“I bloody hope so Black, I’m walking in the middle of the night for you- we might even be too late for the tube by now,” 

“Oh please- Like I’d let anything happen to you,” He said with a wink, a smirk curling on his lips. He let go of your hand, his arm easily taking its place across your shoulders.

“Me and my wand would be just fine without you though-” 

“Ah yes- I forget, you’re quite the bright witch,” You hummed in agreement, a giggle breaking from your lips “Don’t know if Professor McCormack would agree- you nearly blew his head off in defense against the dark arts our last year-”

You tskd in annoyance at the mention of your… small, incident.

“That was an isolated incident- We both know I got better scores than you on all my NEWTs-”

“Only because I ditched like half of them-” You rolled your eyes at him, the only one he had bothered to even show up for was Transfiguration out of respect for McGonagall. Not that he’d ever admit such a thing. “How's mum by the way?”

 You smiled softly at the mention of your mom. Sirius loved the woman. She loved him too, maybe too much. You were thankful for it regardless.

“She’s alright- quite tired, I reckon my dad has been driving her a bit nuts these days-” He hummed in acknowledgment, you kicked a small rock on your bath “Not that he hasn't been driving all of us crazy for years…” you sighed “Sorry-”

“For what?” He looked down at you, and you kept looking forward, leaning your head against his side. 

“I really shouldn’t be complaining about him- It could be worse, he just wants what's best for me I guess-”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn't drive you nuts love- parents are tricky that way”

“It's more than just driving me crazy- nothing’s good enough for the man,” you sighed, rubbing your temple with the pads of your fingers. You went down the stairs onto the tube’s platform “It’s exhausting- I got a job like he wanted, not in magic like he asked me to” You shook your head, fighting the wobble of your lip and the hot tears behind your eyes. “I am trying so hard to please him, the other day he had the audacity to call and tell me that he-” The voice over the intercom announced the last train of the night as you both stopped right before the yellow line. You wrapped his suit jacket tighter around your shoulders. 

“He had the nerve to tell me that he thinks I should go back to school… go to some muggle Uni- to do something useful” you mocked his voice, annoyance ripping through you as your fingers air quoted his words. The train rushed through the platform, cutting you off. The doors opened and you instinctively grabbed a hold of his hand again. “I think- Well, I know- that he wishes I hadn't been a witch at all,” you said as you went inside.

The tube’s doors closed, and you went silent. Sirius wrapped his arm around you as you sat down, the emptiness and silence of the cart hanging over the both of you. 

You thought of your parents. Your mother who had been nothing short of ecstatic when you received your letter at age 11. She even wrote a letter back to Dumbledore, a million questions on the tip of her tongue- thrilled at how exciting everything sounded. He answered every one of her questions diligently. Her daughter was a witch. 

Who would’ve thought?

Your father was another story. You thought of him, the way he never answered your letters from school, it was only your mother. But, of course, he loved you.

You hoped. 

He always said he only wanted what was best for you because he loved you. 

You thought of Walburga Black. A woman who, despite the abuse, still had the audacity to say she loved her sons. 

It took Sirius years to stop saying her torture came from a place of love. 

The train car stopped briefly at the next stop. Neither of you stood to get off. You hoped Sirius was paying attention to the stops as you rested your head against his shoulder. He squeezed your shoulder. 

Your father had never been happy about the turn your life took. Wouldn’t let you do magic in the house even when you were of age. He hated it. He wanted you to go to University. Get a muggle career, a normal career. A normal life.

That wasn’t even mentioning how infuriated he was once he found out you were moving in with Sirius. You could still hear his words in your head, even years later. 

“He’s a good-for-nothing rich kid- he hasn’t lifted a finger in his life and you’re attaching yourself to him like this? With his stupid tattoos and his stupid bike- you’re going to get yourself killed- you’re not even bloody together” Sirius squeezed you tighter to him, you didn’t think he knew what you thought about. “What happens when he gets bored of you? Ditches you for some woman- you are so stupid-”

You didn’t know if you were stupid for it. Your mom was basically planning you and Sirius’s wedding while your father cursed his presence in your life.

You thought of his unpacked bags. 

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at the map of the train lanes. 

3 More stops.

He tried ignoring the way you went silent, he tried for a second to forget the fact that you just implied you never wanted the job in the first place. Was he being crazy? No, well you just said it was what your father wanted. What about what you wanted? 

He knew the man wasn’t the fondest of him. He assumed it was the motorcycle and the tattoos, the pack of smokes in his pocket. Maybe even the smirk on his face. 

Maybe even the way his wife fawned over him.

But it was more than that, wasn’t it?

He hadn't even considered, that your non-magical father would hate the fact that you were magical. He thought of his mother, the brief flash of her words about how muggles were undesirables reverberating through his head. 

Who would’ve thought? 

So he held you tighter, in silence, because Sirius Black did not know what else to do but hold you tight in his arms and hope that you’d know. 

Hope that you’d know he loved you. Magic or not. Unconditionally, he thought. Jobless or employed. Sick or healthy. Young and stupid or old and wise. 

He loved you. 

He hoped you could hear his thoughts, so you’d know he was in love with you.

Because Godric knows he didn't dare to say out loud. 

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[gachagon]

Do you suppose that the students' hypocrisies will become their downfall in later chapters? Like, if it would straight-up kill them somehow?

I wrote earlier that I believe their dishonesty is the thing tied to their Hypocrisy and that if they're not honest about the very simple fact that they don't trust one another, more deaths will occur.

I definitely believe that the veil of Hypocrisy mentioned in the chapter 1 title is the thing obscuring the characters common sense and reasoning, it's stopping them from being able to actually work together and figure out a way to escape.

Someone earlier pointed out to me how the motive that Tozu introduced never even factored into the murder, outside of Desmond's blackmail letter letting Eva know there might be something in his room she could use for her plan. The real reason Wolfgang died was because he had helped manufacture this false sense of peace and familiarity between the whole class when there is no trust or honesty between them. Wolfgang and the others were already participating in groupthink and ostracizing those who didn't fall in line by day 2 of being in Eden's Garden, which is a little wild when you compare them to the other Killing Game crews.

I do think that now that Wolfgang is gone that soon we will start to see more, and more of the students become more open about how they actually feel. Namely, I think Wenona will be the first to just outright say she didn't trust the others and that she was wrong to just follow behind whatever Wolfgang asked.

Wenona was the only one at the end of the trial who questioned Wolfgang bringing the knife with him for "protection".

I also think their survival depends entirely on whether or not they're honest about how they feel to end the rampant hypocrisy. It's obviously okay to be a hypocrite sometimes, but in this ONE extreme scenario, it is the thing that's holding them all back.

So the more hypocritical a character is, the more likely they are to end up dead in my opinion. The first step to getting out of a killing game is trust, and if there's no honesty there's no trust at all, and if they're all just pretending to trust one another that's just a heavy layer of hypocrisy that makes it even more difficult to trust anyone.

Hypocrisy also makes it harder for people to forgive transgressions, which was the case with Eva. She couldn't look past Diana's hypocrisy earlier so she framed her, she hated Wolfgang for being hypocritical purposefully and casting her out so she killed him. (granted there were definitely other factors to this incident but the hypocrisy and dishonesty played a large part anyways)