#the way I've been feeling ever since yesterday when I realised that if I want to make a character who's a 190cm tall goth princess

[enwie]

Did you know it's not illegal to be as blatantly self-indulgent when creating your OCs as you could ever possibly want to be?

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/5): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy

Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[theloveoffootball10]

sᴛɪᴄᴋᴡɪᴛᴜ : ғ ɪ ᴠ ᴇ

m a s t e r l i s t

ғ ɪ ᴠ ᴇ

Hearing a voice I wake up realising it's still pitch black outside, Lando is fast asleep then I hear it again. He has got to be joking. The man talks in his sleep. Rolling my eyes I make myself comfortable in Lando's arms trying to get a few more hours sleep.

Eventually waking up to the sound of my alarm a few hours later my race day nerves kick in. No matter how many races I watch I still get nervous for my dad. I want the absolute best for him and I know just how incredible it is for him to still be driving the way he is.

"Morning Lu"

"Morning. You Lando Norris are the worst person to sleep next to probably ever" I say with a laugh. I'm not going to be angry, it's hardly his fault.

"Oh god what was it? Snoring or talking in my sleep?"

"Talking this time. Should I dread the day it's snoring?"

"Maybe. Max tells me off when we've slept in the same room" Lando laughs hiding his face in my neck.

"How are you feeling about today?"

"I feel positive but until I'm at the track I try not to think too much about it. It's quite a long day until I have to be ready to get into the car" I know from being at races over the years how much it can feel like it drags waiting for a race to start and that's me being there as a spectator.

"I get that. At least you got that release last night" biting my lip I look up at Lando.

"Don't go there Lucía. Considering I only met you on Friday little Lando thinks a hell of a lot about you"

"Don't ever refer to your dick as little Lando ever again" I say unable to hold back my laugh "he's far from little"

"You're the biggest tease I've ever known. I'm going for a long cold shower"

"Same rules apply, do well in the race and who knows what will happen tonight" I shout as Lando closes the bathroom door.

esmelucia 📍 Silverstone

Like daniellemitch, landonorris and 16,306 others

esmelucia it's raaaaace day! LFG Papá 🏎️

View all 56 comments

livdavies ooh she looking sexy!

↪️ livdavies ps Vamos adopted Papá!

↪️ esmelucia ur the favourite child

user1 we see you Lando 👀

↪️ user2 assuming because her dad races on the same track they know each other 🙄

Arriving at the track I make my way to Aston Martin, seeing Lando sitting outside of the McLaren lounge I bite my lip. The Silverstone sun is shining on him perfectly, once again his race suit is low on his hips and his cap sitting backwards. I can't go up to him the way I want to but I do send a quick wink his way that I know he sees.

Seeing Chelsea sat a a table I grab a quick breakfast and join her. I know she's going to want a full run down of what has happened with Lando since yesterday and I'm looking forward to telling her. It's nice to have a girl around the paddock when I'm here and she's someone I can trust wholeheartedly.

"So how was last night? I'm guessing by the grin on a certain boys face today you had a good night"

"It was so good. I've never had sex like I do with him. The Silverstone Slut in me is having a good weekend with him but I'm worried Chels" I say taking a drink of my tea "I've only spent 2 nights with him and he's got a hold on me. I don't know what I'll do when I'm not spending nights with him"

"You've got feelings for him I can tell or you will at some point because you wouldn't be worried about not being with him"

"Don't be daft Chels I've spent two nights with him and that's mainly been sex. Okay we've had conversations but I wouldn't say feelings"

"Give it time. I say a few months time you two will be in a relationship. Are you seeing him tonight?" Chelsea asks knowing I normally go back to my dad's for a day or two after a race with him.

"I'm not sure. I'd like to but there's a chance he could be busy or with his family. I know his mum and dad are coming to watch the race"

"Ooh meeting the family already. Suppose he already knows your dad so you're already one step ahead"

"Stop it!" Laughing with Chelsea I know there's not a chance I can meet Lando's mum and dad. I have to consider that he's a formula one driver, he's in a different country every week, there's nothing stopping him sleeping with a different girl every weekend. I'm not naive to think I'm the only one he's sleeping with.

"In all seriousness Lucía, give him a chance. I see him week in week out he's a good person" seeing my dad heading towards us I don't respond even though I have questions. My dad doesn't need to hear about my extra curricular activities.

Finding my place in my dad's garage I put my headset on and get comfortable. I feel like this will be a long race, the great British weather is showing up for the occasion and has given nearly every season so far this weekend. I've heard talk around the paddock there could be rain throughout the race which will make for an interesting watch strategy wise.

As the formation lap ends I'm gutted for Pierre, no driver ever wants to have to retire before the race even starts but all of the British drivers get a good start, until Lando loses a place to Max and Alex makes contact with my dad. Thankfully there's no substantial damage and my dad's race isn't affected. The last thing I want is for my dad to end a race angry through no fault of his own. Just as it does every year, Silverstone is delivering and providing an exciting race. As Lando makes a move and overtakes Lewis on the straight I can barely keep the smile off my face seeing Lando leading his home race.

"Why does every race you come to end up being one of the most exciting races of the season?" Chelsea asks barely taking her eyes off the screen.

"I must be a good luck charm" Watching the race I know my dad is still in the points which I'm happy about but my full attention is on the front of the grid, despite being a different team there's an audible gasp as George is told to retire the car. As a Brit I'm gutted there won't be a full British podium at their home race. That would've been like a fairytale.  In the closing stages of the race I feel like I'm holding my breath, Max has just passed Lando pushing him back into third place and he's slowly gaining on Lewis. Having known Lewis as long as I have I want to see him get his long awaited next podium and as the chequered flag waves he gets his 9th Silverstone win and his first win in over 2 years, I feel a sense of relief for him. I've never doubted him, just like I will always believe my dad will get another win.

"Your dad will be happy with that given some of the recent races. At least I know my job is going to be easy post race. Will I see you at the closing party tonight?"

"You absolutely will. I did think about driving home to get ready but I have a dress in my car that I ordered for this weekend" walking back to the hospitality with Chelsea I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, I see Lando's name on the screen, but decide not to answer straight away until I see the look Chelsea is giving me.

"If that's Lando answer him. If I know anything about these men from being here every week, the first people they send messages to are the one's who mean something to them. I'll see you tonight" watching as Chelsea walk away I take my phone out of my pocket and open instagram. Lando has just came P3 in his home race and he wants to see me.

[maraschinomerry]

Hey! Can you write a george karim x reader fic with the “learning how to kiss” prompt?

Important Research

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader, mentions of Locklyle

Summary: You've fallen for your fellow researcher but are scared to act on it in case your lack of experience is off-putting. Little do you know, he feels the same and has decided to do what he does best to resolve it...

Content: kissing, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending

A/N: thank you so much for requesting! This is my first ever reader fic and it kind of got away from me, ngl, but I really hope you like it and constructive feedback is appreciated! Especially on the fact I used (name) to be where you'd insert your name, I found I like it that way when reading but do people prefer that, y/n or something else?

Word count: 2.7k

"Morning Georgie!" you chirped as you entered the kitchen of 35 Portland Row, smiling at the dishevelled figure at the dining table. It was clear he'd been up most of the night trying to research for your next case - dark circles barely offset by the glint from his crooked glasses, curly hair sticking out more than usual (you knew it only ever did this when he'd just woken up, which didn't appear as likely, or when he'd been running his hands through it in frustration), empty mug by the elbow he was using to prop himself up. The poor boy was running on caffeine. "Coffee?" you offered as you clicked the kettle on.

"Mmh," he mumbled, before realising he was in an actual conversation and not just talking to himself. "Thanks." You leant over to take his cup, fingers brushing the bare skin of his forearm, and you felt him unexpectedly twitch. The dark brown rings in the bottom of the mug had set firmly, he must have zoned out hours ago, so you fetched two clean ones and a couple of plates. If he hadn't made more coffee, he definitely hadn't eaten. Toast would do.

George was staring at the Thinking Cloth, willing his eyes to focus. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of you bustling about the kitchen, quietly humming to yourself, but beyond that his senses seemed to have abandoned him. Wait, perhaps not quite all. Suddenly, he registered the scent of coffee and something citrus. He forced himself to tune back in just as you pulled away, leaving behind a steaming cup and a plate of marmalade toast, sliced on the diagonal just how he liked it. You took a seat opposite him with a matching breakfast and a matching smile.

"Thanks, (name)."

"No problem. How's the research coming along?"

He sighed. "Not great. I need to cross-reference these sightings with that date we found at the Archives yesterday, but since they wouldn't let us take a copy of the file I've forgotten what it was so I'll have to go back again and check." You pushed back your chair and stood up with a bounce. He knew how much you shared his passion for research and loved the way you'd always listen to his ideas and share yours in return, but he didn't want you abandoning your plans for the day to fix his mistake. "It's fine, I'll go as soon as I've-" Hold on. You hadn't gone to the door. You'd come round to his side of the table.

"I wrote it down for you!" You were unable to contain your excitement. Leaning over his shoulder, you pushed his mug to the side to reveal a patch of your handwriting amongst the mess of his: "8th February 1986". He turned to you in awe and his breath caught in his throat.

Your face was so incredibly close to his, jawline curving gently past the tip of his nose as you beamed down at your handiwork. The fibres of your jumper tickled his cheek where it almost met your chest, and marmalade and coffee was replaced by the familiar scent of lavender and mint that he knew was uniquely you. When you turned to gauge his reaction at this new development, you narrowly missed bumping your noses together. You didn't pull away.

"You're incredible," he murmured. Oh god. "I mean… you're an incredible researcher… saved me a trip… thank you." Seeing him fumble his words, a band of pink spreading from his cheeks all the way up to the tips of his ears, was adorable. Finally you stepped back, and he was both relieved and disappointed until you gently booped the end of his nose and his brain short-circuited too much to decide how he felt.

—

Lockwood sauntered into the library. It had been a couple of days since you'd all wrapped up the last case, but he'd been so busy with paperwork and restocking that now he was ready to use this rare afternoon off to catch up on the news from around town with a magazine, alone in his favourite armchair. Instead he was met by you, curled up in the other chair. Your knees were tucked up to the bottom of the cushion you had clutched to your chest, and your chin was buried in the top of it. In all your time with the agency, even after the worst cases, he'd never seen you like this.

"Everything okay?" The question was soft, tender, but it still startled you. You began to hastily unfurl until you realised who it was, at which point you folded back in on yourself. Lockwood took that as a no. He made his way over to the armchair, knowing that if you wanted to talk about whatever was bothering you, you would in your own time. The silence was tense but not uncomfortable. Eventually, you spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

"I think George hates me."

Lockwood faltered.

What?

George?

The George who turned almost crimson every time you smiled at him? The George who claimed to hate physical contact, but linked arms with you whenever you went to the Archives together? The George who practically threw himself at a Wraith last week to protect you? The George who Lockwood had once caught face down on the Thinking Cloth after a particularly hard night, talking about you in his sleep? That George? He caught himself just before scoffing and saying you were being ridiculous. That wouldn't help matters.

"What makes you say that?" He prompted. Perhaps if he got to the root of your doubts he could help resolve them.

"I don't know, I just…" You huffed out a breath, already embarrassed by what you were about to let out. "Things were going so well and I really thought we were starting to get close. Like close close. So I tried leaning into it a little more but I can't follow through." The words were rushing out of you now, far too quickly for you to claw them back in before you said too much. "I really want to kiss him but I've never done that before so I don't want to scare him off, but I think I already have because I pushed things too far and now he keeps avoiding me. Like last night at dinner he could barely look at me and this morning he said he had to go and find some books but he wouldn't let me go with him and why would he do that unless I made him uncomfortable and now he doesn't want to be around me?"

Lockwood, who was being hit with a strong wave of déjà vu, had a good idea why George would do that.

"How did you know how to kiss Lucy the right way?"

The night before, the two boys had been in the basement, checking over their supplies, when George asked the question out of nowhere.

Lockwood chuckled, taken aback. "I don't think there really is a right way, mate."

"But you have to have done it properly, Lucy said it was like fireworks!" His words were complimentary (Lockwood almost preened as he'd never heard Lucy's side of their first kiss) but his tone was exasperated, almost bitter.

"Is this about (name)?" George opened his mouth and closed it again, his cheeks burning. That answered that. "You're not exactly subtle, George, and neither are they. I'm pretty sure they like you, and you know each other well enough that if you do decide to go for it, you'll be able to pick up on the cues they give off to tell you whether you're doing what's right for them. Hell, you do it when we're on cases, don't you?"

George pondered this for a moment. Lockwood had a point. When you were out, you often didn't even have to say a single word to know what the other was thinking, moving as one in moves that would have seemed choreographed to anyone who watched. But figuring all that out had been nearly a year in the making, and he didn't want to wait another year to make sure he got this right. He needed a head start.

"I'll be leaving early tomorrow morning. Beat the rush at the Archives. You won't… you won't tell them about this, will you?"

Lockwood swore he wouldn't.

True to his word, Lockwood divulged none of the previous night's events, as much as it would have put your mind at ease.

"I promise, he doesn't hate you. Maybe you should go and talk to him, prove it to yourself. I think he's in his room."

—

A delicate knock sounded on George's door.

"Come in," he called on instinct, head still buried in his book.

You tentatively opened the door, noticing the familiar smell of coffee and ginger biscuits before your eyes were drawn to the bed. George was laid on his stomach, one book in his hand and a couple of others scattered by his side. He smiled softly up at you as you lingered in the doorway.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" you asked.

"No, not at all, I'm just doing… some research. Nothing important." He'd paused in the middle of the sentence, quickly glancing from you to the book he was holding. His eyes widened a little and he hurriedly shoved them off the edge of the bed and kicked them under. With a deep breath to steady himself, he patted the space next to him. You made your way over, eyes trained on the floor.

He was so close you could have reached out and got this all over with in seconds. But you couldn't. Although your talk with Lockwood had been encouraging, you still weren't sure how far you were from the brink of pushing George away forever, a prospect you couldn't fathom. So you sat, fidgeting with your hands in your lap, trying to focus in spite of the dark eyes piercing into your very soul just inches away. Silence filled the close confines of the room.

"So…" George began hesitantly. "Did you want to talk to me about something?"

You bit your lip. "Yes. Um." You'd never been good at this bit. "Are we okay? I feel like you've been distant recently, and I- I miss you, Georgie. I thought maybe it was because I'd started getting more flirty and touchy with you and I know that isn't really your thing so if I've done something to make you uncomfortable-"

"Oh," George said simply. You balked. This was a mistake. Even if he ever wanted to speak to you again you'd be too embarrassed to do so. Tears began to prick at the corner of your eyes. You desperately hoped that George wouldn't notice. He did.

Seeing you on the verge of tears made something clench in George's chest. He'd seen you cry before, but had never been the cause and he hated knowing that this time he was.

"Wait no, please, I'm sorry," he fumbled. He had no idea how he was going to say what he needed to, but he couldn't stand another second of you being so upset. Cautiously, he reached his hand out towards yours, leaving it open to allow you to come to him. In case you were still unsure. In case he'd misread things. His heart leapt when he felt your fingers entwine with his. Allowing it to spur him on, he grounded himself by stroking his thumb across yours.

"I never wanted to push you away." Although he was assured of what he was saying, you couldn't help but miss the snarky confidence which usually laced his speech. "In fact I wanted you even closer." You both blushed. "But I was so worried that I was misreading things, and I don't know if you've realised but I have no idea what I'm doing and I didn't want to make things weird."

You giggled, a slight sniffle escaping as you wiped away the remnants of your tears. For such talented, intelligent researchers, you two really were idiots. "I was thinking the same thing! I don't have a clue about the right way to do all…" you nodded to your interlinked hands, "...this."

"Oh, Lockwood said there isn't really a right way."

You rolled your eyes. Trust Lockwood to have sent you up here for answers without so much as a hint that he'd already discussed it with George. Then again, here you were. You rescinded your eye roll and gave him a silent thanks.

"It's all well and good him saying that, look at how well it's going with Lucy!" You both laughed, the sound dissipating the last of the tension in the room. Testing the waters a little more, you leaned closer into George's side, breath hitching as he unlinked his hand from yours, taking it back with his other and wrapping his arm around your waist.

"That's why I thought it was worth doing a little extra research," he smirked. You gave him a puzzled look, and he toed out one of the books he'd kicked under the bed. It was a guide to body language. Below it, the corner of another book showed the word 'romance'. So that was why he went looking for books without you. The thought of him doing all this for you was so overwhelming, you nearly kissed him right there, but surely in one of those books it would have said something about a little build-up, right?

"Well you know," you raised your gaze from the books to his, allowing it to slide down to his lips and revelling in the fact that his did the same, "as important as research is, true science is incomplete without experimentation." By now your noses were touching, his breath fanning across your face. Your thoughts flickered briefly to George, in his apron and gloves, testing out the skull at different temperatures in the oven. It was one of the first moments that had endeared him to you. You smiled against his lips.

"I do love experimentation," he grinned, closing the gap between you.

His lips were a little chapped, but the kiss was soft and gentle as though he were still afraid you'd run away. The whole time, he hadn't let go of your hand, his other still around your waist, and you brought your free hand up to press against the nape of his neck, one finger brushing into his curls. His kisses were brief, uncertain, trying to pick up on all the cues you might be giving off while thoroughly distracted by the long-awaited sensation of your lips on his, but as you applied a little more pressure behind his head he immediately knew to tighten his grip on your waist and deepen the kiss. You gasped a little against him, and he began to pull back to make sure you were okay until your lips followed his. As you leaned closer, you teetered on the edge of the bed and frantically unclasped your hands to steady yourself. With a chuckle, George shifted himself back until he was resting against the headboard and took your hand once again to lead you into his lap. You met him eagerly. Both his hands now wrapped around your waist, thumbs rubbing rhythmically across your sides. Emboldened, you twisted your grip further into his hair and were pleasantly surprised when he moaned against your lips, a motion which gave you the faintest taste of those ginger biscuits.

Eventually, you pulled apart for breath, hands never leaving each other and foreheads pressed together. His rich brown eyes were darker than ever, sparkling up at you through his eyelashes.

"And that," you stopped to inhale a lungful of air, "is the dedication to research that makes us such a successful agency." You tried so hard to feign professionalism, but were undermined by rosy cheeks and a playful smile.

George leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Absolutely, I take my job incredibly seriously." Another kiss. "But in this case, I think I have to admit that Lockwood was right." You clasped a hand to your chest in pretend shock. George laughed and pulled you into a hug. "Don't tell him I said that."

[acutecoral]

I really want to vod Foolish so much and catch up to what he's been up to

Mostly because there's something about the way he roleplays that I became very aware with, especially after OPQ

He is extremely conscious and deliberate when it comes to his roleplay of his characters.

Every choice, every act, everything he says and doesn't say? That's all him playing to his character, and oh boy is his character is so subtle and nuanced beneath the silly goofy side that most people know him by on the server

He's amazing at roleplay! It kind of blew me away when he played in OPQ!

He did things that he as a person would probably likely not do, but his character definitely would! And he stuck to them! That's not easy! I mean I personally had trouble doing that when I was first starting out playing ttrpgs. It's hard to stick to a character choice when you know it's not the smart thing to do as the player. It’s hard to detach yourself from your personal motivations and fully immerse yourself in your character's, but he does it so well! He's absolutely underrated!

Ever since I realised that, I've been keeping a closer eye to Foolish recently and what he's saying, not saying, and subtly hinting...and maybe not so subtly hinting

Like the exchange between him and Cellbit yesterday

Like!!! I don’t know how every Foolish mains feel, but THIS MANS IS TRYING SO HARD TO CLUE CELLBIT IN THAT THEY’RE ON THE SAME TEAM, BUT!!! CELLBIT JUST DOESN'T GET IT!!! I'M SO!!!! RHRHEGRH

Like I get it from Cellbit perspective, because there was always the intention of taking down the Federation completely, there's that rage and anger and vengeance to destroy an establishment that's hurt you and countless others, but from the conversations Bad and Foolish were having before with aquariums and fish, Foolish seeks to reform the Federation from the inside and become the head of it even if he knows it's unlikely, but I find his steady climb to the top absolutely fascinating, and I'm excited!!! Because this ties in so well with what we've been getting about how federation workers ARE PEOPLE. They have feelings and families and friends and hopes and dreams and desires!!! Not that I'm saying that he's doing it for them, but! I just find his approach extremely interesting and just plays to those themes we've been getting really well.

His character motivations are so subtle because unless you let go of your perception of him being a silly goofy chaotic guy, and pull back what says and pick on what he doesn't say, or here where he's absolutely directly telling someone his deal, then you won't catch it what he's trying to tell you. He hides it so well that not even the Feds or Resistance or everyone else besides Bad and Jaiden know what to make of him.

For me, he's definitely playing to the character archetype of Crouching Moron, Hidden Badass and just!!!! Foolish is so good guys, I need to watch him and catch up on his streams, he has been COOKING for a while and I'm so ready for what else will happen to him going forward!!!

[riderofblackdragons]

What Would I Give Just To See You Again

Day 4: Hallucinations | hypnosis | sensory deprivation | "you're still alive in my head"

Ok so this is posting later than planned, because instead of writing this yesterday I just completely sprialled :)) And it feels kinda rambling to me, but I hope it's enjoyable and shit anyways!

This is the first fic in a new AU I've created, called the Commander to Firelord Pipeline, which is a star wars x avatar: the last airbender crossover

Hope you enjoy!

Azula had always known she was… different, to other people. It wasn't just her incredible firebending prowess either, regardless of what her father and firebending teachers said. There was something off with her, something in her mind that had always set the princess apart. Something wrong.

It was why her mother had always scolded her when she played with Zuko, even though she hadn't hurt him that bad. Just enough that he'd heal, and know how to be better. Know how to survive that kind of thing, when he encountered it from someone who actually wanted him dead. It made Lady Ursa look fearful at her daughter's friends, too, wondering how they could stand to be around someone so heartless.

She didn't see past the violence to the shattered, broken girl lying underneath, who didn't know what she'd done wrong. Especially not since her father had told her she'd done well afterwards.

It was the first sign that Prince Ozai was like Azula.

Or, well, not quite like her. Prince Ozai had never seemed to care for anyone else, even his wife or children, whereas Princess Azula had very blatantly claimed people to care about and keep as "hers". Not many realised, but Prince Zuko was included in that category of protection, despite all the ways Azula caused injury. Injuries made you stronger, made sure that he'd learn to be better.

Azula may not have been good at showing it, but she did care. Her father wasn't even capable of that much.

On her good days, many agreed, Princess Azula was a delight. A perfect child, who took after her father in her firebending and her mother in her grace, and was outshone by no one. A few quirks, perhaps, like how easily she'd learned the political nature of the court, but nothing wrong with her.

Personally, Azula had always considered the title of princess to be stupid, but it still meant something. Just as her reputation was stupid, and false, but something she needed to keep up. She may have been fifth in line, but Azula knew the power of a title, and fifth could become first very fast, if a few people died.

Besides, there were no other princess in the world aside from Azula. Her mother wasn't even considered a princess, no matter that she'd married a prince. There were rumours of a princess in the northern water tribe, but the tribes were split, and thus the title meant nothing compared to Azula's.

And even from a young age, Azula had always known how important power was. Firelord meant no one could ever harm what was hers ever again, not even her father.

"Ty Lee," she told her minion friend subordinate. "Tell Thorn that he's on Senate duty for the next month if he doesn't show his face to me in the next fives minutes,"

Ty Lee didn't respond, but that was okay. It was an overkill punishment anyways. No one deserved to be stuck with that for a full month. Not even Thorn, even though he'd messed with Azula's things! Still, the threat worked. Azula caught her second in command slinking out from wherever he'd been hiding to face her head on barely a minute later.

"Seems you don't need to after all, Ty Lee," Azula smirked at Thorn.

He laughed, becuase of course he did. Thorn was always one to laugh in the face of danger. Still, the sound was bright, and improved Azula's mood entirely just to hear it. It was a rare enough sound coming from any of them, let alone Thorn or Azula herself, that any occurance immediately meant the day would be a good one.

The Guard had so little to laugh about, after all.

But that wasn't right, was it? Azula was a Princess, not some lowly commander. She didn't have a second in command, wasn't involved in the military enough to need one. She was the Princess of the Fire Nation, far higher than any military commander, even a Marshall Commander.

And she knew this. She knew she did. She'd known that she was Princess Azula and Marshall Commander Fox for years now. Fox may have been dead, as was all the people he'd ever encountered, but Azula still carried him and his memories within her, as a part of herself.

She remembered brothers, millions of them, not just Zuko . Ones who'd all shared her face, had had to get tattoos or adjust their facial hair just to look different from each other. She remembered skirmishes, fighting gangs on the lower levels of her planet - and a war, one that spanned a galazy, not just this pitiful thing her family was waging against the Earth Kingdom.

She remembered fighting for her rights, for her life, and the way she'd lost each and every one of her brothers. The harsh battle, of learning politics, how to tell who was safe and who wasn't based on a single conversation; how to read between the lines to find out the true meaning.

The things she'd carried with her in this life, the change from Senate politics to court politics barely different enough to be commented on.

Like the way she'd found trustworthy people to surround herself with, ones who saw how violent she was and understood that it was the only way she knew to protect them now, to make them stronger so no one could ever hurt them. So Azula didn't have to watch her loved ones fall, or to hear about it weeks after it'd happened because she couldn't go with them.

People who knew who she was, and loved her anyways. Who wouldn't betray her for anything, like she'd once thought her brothers would have (a dead clone and they were gone, turning their backs like they didn't know just how tight this corner was that she was backed into. As though they hadn't once sworn to never abandon each other).

If she closed her eyes, Azula could almost imagine she saw her brothers, still with her. On her bad days, they were there, mocking her, misting the lines between this life and last. Showing her the deceased, like they still loved her, like she wasn't a monster for all she'd done.

She could see Stone, rolling his eyes at her, like they were filing paperwork for stupid things again. She saw Thire, gushing about his Jedi again, running out the door to go visit the Jedi younglings, because he liked being around the children.

Azula even saw Thorn, stealing her caf and her paperwork, forcing her to suffer his presence and ignoring her false complaints and empty threats.

They would have liked her girls, she knew. It was part of what made it so difficult, on the bad days. She could see Ty Lee and Thorn, Zuko and Thire, Mai and Stone, and it would seem as real as the flames she could push from her hands.

She doesn't tell them that. Doesn't let it on, but she thinks they know anyways. Its the way Mai hesitates, on Azula's bad days, with her sharp wit, letting Stone take the lead, even though she doesn't know he's there. The way Ty Lee will do more acrobatics, bubbly laughter bursting out until its all Azula can hear, to take her from her deceased.

Zuko doesn't do anything, really, but Azula wouldn't want him to. It's enough that she can watch him bending, little puffs of flame coming out, or the candle matching his breathing during meditation. He's weaker than her, but it doesn't matter on Azula's bad days.

If they could've bent, maybe more of the Guard would've been able to survive.

On her good days, she remembers they're dead. She thinks that maybe they should be called her bad days, instead. It certainly feels that way.

Some nights, Azula still hears the snap of her neck. She can still feel the crunching of the bones, see the sudden darkness that death had brought, if temporarily. It drowns her, echoing over and over, snap-crunch-nothing, until she wakes up, and the only thing she can do is burn it all down.

Her mother scolds her most, on those days. Her father grows prouder with every meltdown, every person she hurts, every room she destroys whilst she's still trapped in her memories.

Azula despises it. She feels like Vader, like the Senators that had hurt her and her men, over and over and over. She hates the power she has then, the way hurting others reaffirms her control over herself. It makes her feel stronger, and she hates that most of all.

Tag List: @captain-effy @what-the-fuckis-happening

If anyone wants to be added lmk!

[pawmesan]

So yesterday I said I had ✨opinions✨ on the DLC and today I have come to the conclusion that as per usual, I will not chill until I dumped them somewhere lmao. It's mainly focused on what I've seen people say about Carmine and Kieran online, be it on tumblr or other websites.

Teal Mask Spoilers under the cut :3

I have no idea if I used the under the cut feature even right lmao I've kinda always just been a douche and ignored it when talking about spoilers as I've realised gfjdjrc

Ok anyway so. I think what personally bothered me the most is a lot of people saying "they just have a perfectly fine siblings relationship, nothing unhealthy to see here" and "Kieran is a coldass douchebag who view others as objects and only cares about strength". Both statements I strrroooongly disagree with.

First about his and Carmine's relationship, since it plays into the other thing. It seems that their parents aren't around, though it's unknown why. The grandparents are apparently pretty lackluster in taking over their job and because of that, it seems that Carmine has taken it on herself to take somewhat of guardian role for Kieran. Which is a role she's visibly overwhelmed by, which makes sense, because that's not a role you should have to take when you yourself are maybe like 17/18 lol. You can see that she absolutely does care for and wants the best for him, but at the same time she can't wrap her head around his actions and how he's feeling. So a lot of the things she does she does out of good intentions (for example telling the player for him that he's interested in them because she says he couldn't ever ask on his own, or the whole lying thing where she believes not telling him you guys met Ogrepon prevents him from feeling left out), without understanding that they have quite literally the opposite effect (Kieran feeling like he's unable to do anything on his own BECAUSE she does everything for him, and of course him feeling left out BECAUSE you and her keep meeting Ogrepon a secret). On top of that she clearly has issues keeping her own emotions down, so instead of reacting calmly she'd yell at him whenever he does or says something she doesn't like. And whether you want to see that certain one-liner as her implying she does also hit him when she's not "being nice" or not, she seems unaware of what effect these reactions have on her brother. I do think the implication might very well be on purpose, but it's just not as obviously stated as it could be because this is still a Pokémon game and we don't gotta be too in your face about child abuse in a game that like 8 year olds play lol.

Anyway, aside from him thinking he can't make decisions on his own and stuff, there's a lot of ways this treatment shows in Kieran. Notice how while Carmine is pretty open about showing her anger, he keeps trying to repress his own until later in the story where he's starting to be unable to do so? You can see that when you battle him the first couple times and he loses, the light in his eyes leaves briefly (yknow, the anime thing they both do where that shows them being angry/frustrated) before he grabs his head and just says aw man or something. And when she outs him on his crush or whatever on you, he also looks angry like that, but she immediately shuts him down like usual. I'm pretty sure that's a learned behaviour on his part, aka "when I get openly angry or sad my sis will yell at and/or hit me so I have to keep it down". That's why he always switches the topic, runs off or just goes quiet when he pisses her off or he thinks he pisses her or someone else off. It's optional dialogue so idk how many people have seen it, but Carmine confirms that at the festival, though she again misunderstands why he does it.

Have a high quality photo of what I mea-

So yeah, in short, in regards to their relationship, I think it's clear that it's pretty dysfunctional. For some reason Carmine's stuck with taking a caretaker role she cannot possibly fill given her own issues and age. As a result, she takes it out on her little brother who in turn has to suffer the double bagage of lack of parents and dealing with his older sister's moods. And with next to no social contacts outside of her, he's stuck in that situation and he's got no one to help him learn how to deal with this in a healthier way (same with Carmine really). All he knows that if he was "stronger", he could deal with this better. Like that cool ogre from the folktale that does not care what people think of it and keeps fighting for its right to be respected regardless. Stronger being a very arbitrary word here, as the only specific goal he mentions (in the beginning) is able to stand up against his sister.

Now onto the whole "Kieran sees Ogrepon, the player, probably everyone but him, as an object" thing which... yeah no, he's not a sociopath kcngjtc

More precisely, the player character comes in as this cool person who has no trouble beating his sister in a battle. They don't seem to have all that much trouble socialising either. Good thing he doesn't know all the kewl stuff we did at Area Zero and all or he'd lose it completely. I think a big bonus is also that we're not from his town, so we don't have any bias against his ogre idol. So like, he's head over heels for us, he actually gets to hang out with us and warms up as we realise we're interested in his stories and all and wow. He's found an actual real friend omg. He might not be 100% aware of that, but that's all he really wanted. He wanted to befriend the ogre because it sounded like it would be someone to understand him. And now there's suddenly this super nice person who's taking that role.

But then suddenly, that person hangs out with his meanie sister and stops interacting with him almost entirely. I have a feeling that Carmine hanging out with people he'd want to befriend and them making fun of him is just a thing that happened before and that's why he jumps to that conclusion right away. Keep in mind, the reason Carmine came to us in the first place is literally to make fun of his lack of skills at the mini game lol.

So yeah, the reason Kieran is so massively pissed off is because he does view the player character as a human being, and one he really really liked and put up the courage to open up to, yet from his POV we shamelessly take advantage of that and leave him alone again to hang out with his sis instead. Would probably come off to him like you just pretended to be his friend because you had to and now you're hanging out with the cooler kids and giggle about how silly he looked when, idk, he asked to have a sandwich with you lol. Of course this is not what the player intended (or is meant to intend) and I too felt physical pain when the game gave me no option but to lie xD but I'm pretty sure you guys making up and giving each other another chance is what's gonna happen in Indigo Disk.

For Ogrepon, instead of as an object, I think he just keeps seeing the ogre from the story in her. You gotta remember that he never gets to properly interact with her, he doesn't even refer to her by her actual name like Carmine does once she learns it. He doesn't understand that, ironically just like him, what she really wants is just acceptance and a friend. He thinks that the reason she's distrusting of him is not because she has trust issues and needs to warm up first just like him, but because he isn't as strong as you are, the one she does trust much easier. He's so convinced that nothing in his life will change for the better until he's "stronger" that... presumably the Dokutaro thing somewhere during the mid point starts influencing him. Not like, straight up possession, but more it taking advantage of his instability and promising to give him the strength he wants if he does what it wants. Just like the dex entries of the loyal three says what happened to them. So Dokutaro moreso takes the role of some guy who's a really bad influence and convinces you to do things that will harm both you and others with some sneaky lil psychological tricks. Because I mean, self-sabotaging is something Kieran literally does around the time he presumably comes in contact with Dokutaro. He completely stops trying to talk to you, he boxes the furret he apparently raised from an egg, he doesn't come along to help beat the loyal three to get the masks. I wonder tbh, if Dokutaro was influencing him, if it didn't lead him away from helping with that on purpose, since it originally made the loyal three steal the masks in the first place. I guess that would also explain why he would have been fine with Ogrepon just going back to the cave so he could get the masks back later. And while there definitely is the whole jealousy aspect, I think it's also Dokutaro leading him into actions he wouldn't normally do to get the masks. Because if he gets the masks it'll give him what he wants or whatever. I think without the Dokutaro influence, honestly, he'd probably just have locked himself up in his room for the rest of the story after you lying and sobbed into his Furret pal's fur lmao.

Soo yeah, I think that's about it. They both have quite some issues and continue the trend of ScaVio characters that really need a therapist lol. I like Kieran especially though, he's really adorable despite having his own set of flaws of course. So I do hope the next part will take his (and Carmine's) story into a satisfying direction. And I better get to give him a hug because he needs one smh. Maybe Arven can make him some top tier candy apples. Oh oh yeah, noticed btw that he adds Dipplin to his team after he gave us a candy apple at the festival and told us there's a mon that looks like one? Pokémon likes to do storytelling via the team, so maybe the Dippling reminds him of our broship 😔😔

[positivelybeastly]

Is the krakoan era X-Men the most unlikable interation of X-Men?

"I - don't think that's fair to say about them. From what I understand, they put all of their hopes on the establishment of a new country, joined everyone together under one roof, and then . . ."

He'd never seen anything like it. The sheer amount of carnage. He didn't even know most of the people he'd seen being torn apart in the footage, but that hadn't stopped him wanting to throw up when he'd seen them being . . . God, and then, when Bobby . . . he'd dragged his hands down his face and wanted to wail.

Who could do that to Bobby of all people?

The short, glib answer is that Chuck Austen's run of X-Men continues to exist, so by default, no-one can be as unlikable as them.

But the long answer is that the Krakoan X-Men aren't really the X-Men for a lot of that era, and, in their hurry to enjoy the fanfic-esque tropical island paradise setting that Krakoa presents, the fandom forgets just how . . . weird, and culty, the island actually is.

Hey, do you wanna know something semi-embarrassing about me? I only read House of X yesterday. I've only ever read the finer details on other Wiki pages and the occasional plot synopses, never actually read the issues themselves, and . . .

It's fucking creepy, man.

I had an instant negative reaction to the weird shit to do with resurrection, and I just, was not comfortable. The way Cyclops was all creepy about Franklin Richards, acting like they have more claim on him than his actual birth family? I'm sorry, dude, that's fucking whacked out.

Like, I'm sorry, I think that mutant sovereignty is an absolute must and a mutant nation is a narrative necessity, but Krakoa's been fucking creepy and weird and cult-y since moment one.

The weird rituals about resurrection, the whole dying in combat to earn your powers back bullshit, the vilification of Scarlet Witch, everything that went down in LaVelle's Sabretooth books, the Quiet Council and X-Force (full stop, just - in general), the casual sex leading to popping out babies you just LEAVE ON THE FUCKING GROUND?

It's a fucked up society. It's dystopian. You conquered death, and guess what? That never ends well. Suddenly you have to redefine life's meaning, and they chose to make it just fucking around and being weirdos, and, like, sure, that's a mood, but it's also not particularly heroic, and it's very significant that it takes a while for the X-Men to reform as an actual hero team because, well, they decided to give up on protecting a world that hated and fear them for a bit there.

But that's in-universe. Out of universe?

They just aren't putting in the time to service the relationships between the characters properly, and a lot of the time, when those moments do happen, it's become extremely clear that almost everyone on Krakoa is a self-obsessed narcissist with increasingly toxic levels of coping with it.

Think about Kate Pryde just completely fucking flubbing her chance to spot that Piotr Rasputin was under mind control, think about Storm just fucking off to Mars and abandoning everything on Earth, think about what happens to Orphan-Maker at the end of Hellions, think about LITERALLY EVERYTHING to do with X-Force - this is not a healthy society.

And that's a good story.

But it feels like at some point, they just kinda forgot about the fucked up shit and decided nah, this is just paradise, this is great, let's sand off the edges. Like, when Jean tells Firestar to just throw X-Force Beast under the bus to make her cover better during the Hellfire Gala, it's read by so many people as this girlboss OMG SLAAAAAAY moment, but . . . you . . . guys do realise that, like . . . that's fucked up, right? You do realise what that moment means?

"You should invoke Beast's reputation as a butcher of humans and a genocidal maniac and a massive lying piece of shit, WHICH I KNOW ABOUT AND HAVE DONE NOTHING ABOUT, and in fact, I'm going to validate his work because it's useful to me now!"

Like, X-Force Beast would tell Jean that she did EXACTLY the right thing in that moment, would welcome it, compliment her on her cunning, and if that's not a sign that you fucked up, that your moral priorities are completely and utterly fucked, then I don't know what to tell you, man.

[englishstrawbie]

Prompted by RobinPerry_U2Fan1969 on AO3 - “If you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I'd say yes.... what about today”

>>>>>

Maya rests her head on Carina’s shoulder, re-reading the same page of her book for the third time. She gets to the end of the paragraph and realises that she hasn’t paid attention to what she is reading yet again. She sighs heavily and lifts her eyes to the top of the page.

“Maybe we should go for a walk, bambina,” Carina suggests.

Even she can tell that Maya isn’t really reading her book and figures maybe some physical exercise might help. They have been trying to relax all afternoon, since Maya woke up from her post-shift nap. They haven’t had much time together in the last few weeks, between work and visiting Jack in hospital, not to mention being a shoulder to cry on for their friends who are all dealing with some kind of loss. Carina worries that Maya is so busy taking care of everyone else that she has forgotten to take care of herself.

“Hmm? It’s raining,” Maya says without looking up. They can both hear the rain hitting the windows.

Carina is still getting used to the new Maya, the one who doesn’t automatically put on her sneakers and work out to manage her feelings. The treadmill has resumed its place in the apartment and Carina has been expecting to wake up to the sound of Maya’s feet hitting the belt. It took her by surprise a couple of days ago when she found her meditating on the couch instead.

She knows it is Diane’s influence, and Carina feels a surge of pride at seeing Maya continually working to do better, just as she promised. But she also doesn’t want Maya to hide the hard stuff from her, for fear of scaring her.

Carina puts down the journal she is holding and takes Maya’s book from her hand, smiling gently when Maya looks up at her with a small frown crinkling her forehead.

“Are you okay?” Carina asks gently.

“Yeah,” Maya says, although not very convincingly. “It’s just been a long week.”

“I know,” Carina says. “I stopped by to see Jack on my way home yesterday. Amelia says the swelling on his brain is starting to come down.”

“Does she think he’ll wake up soon?”

There is a hopefulness in her voice that pulls on Carina’s heart as she shakes his head.

“It’s too soon to tell.”

Maya’s face drops. “Oh.”

Carina reaches out and takes Maya’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Maya wraps her free hand around Carina’s, playing with the wedding band on her left hand. It had been missing for so long and there were too many times that Maya wondered if Carina would ever be willing to put it back on. She had done it without ceremony, but Maya had noticed it straight away, her heart leaping at the sight of it back in its rightful place.

Carina watches her. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about you in your wedding outfit at the ball. It reminded me about how happy we were the day we got married,” Maya says wistfully. “But it’s also the day that everything started to change. The day I started to change.”

“It makes you sad?”

“A little,” Maya admits. “But I don’t want to feel that way about our wedding day. Because I love being married to you. It's the best thing I've ever done.”

She twists her lips thoughtfully.

“You know, when I was at the hospital the other day to see Jack, there was a guy in the room next door marrying his girlfriend. I guess he was about to have a big surgery and didn’t want to waste another moment.” She smiles. “It made me think.”

“Oh yeah? About what?” Carina asks curiously.

“About what it would look like if we got married again,” Maya says. “We’ve had our second chance at dating and we’ve had our second chance at moving in together.”

“You want a second chance at getting married too?” Carina says, amused by the idea.

“Yes,” Maya says.

“Well…” Carina says, leaning in and kissing Maya’s temple. “If you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I'd say yes.”

“What about today?” Maya says.

“What?”

Maya twists her body and lifts her knee, resting her leg on the cushions beneath them.

“Carina DeLuca, will you marry me - again?” Maya says.

Carina chuckles. “Maya, you’re crazy!”

“Crazy in love with you,” Maya says, making Carina laugh even harder. “I’m serious!”

“When? Where?”

“I… I don’t know,” Maya says. “I just know that life is hard and shitty things keep happening – but I also know that, after everything that’s happened, you came back home. I love you, Carina, and I don’t want to waste another moment with you.”

Romantic moment prompts

AO3 may be down but thank goodness for tumblr!

[mimikoolover]

I think we should stop trying to make sense of Jikook and confront it to what they say or what they sing at this point lol I feel like there’s too many things we can’t know anyway, and some parts of the puzzle are missing and will be for a long time anyway because I highly doubt they will talk about their private life anyway soon. To me, with everything we’ve witness with these two for all those years I’m still thinking they’re actually together and have been for years but honestly I know I could be wrong. I follow the Occam’s Razor theory. But we have to admit that some pieces of the puzzle don’t fit or haven’t find their right place yet and we have to be at peace with that. Personally as a 30 yo I just think I’ve never ever seen two people behaving like they do and being as close as they are without being a couple. Their song lyrics are just a detail in the grand scheme of it but it’s jus my opinion. I know they could be just two exceptionally close friends, the exception to the rule. Trying to over analyze everything they do and say can be fun at times but it feels almost boring after all this time for me because we always go in circles. In a few weeks they’ll be confusing the hell out of us again lol

I was thinking exactly this actually...like if jikook are dating each other realistically we'll never know about it. have they done stuff in the past that's sus sure but there have been sus things with them with other people as well...so writing all of that off in relation to them with each other seems strange but I want to believe and listen to what they say so when jimin talks about muse I want to believe that. we also have to remember that they are just celebrities and let's be real we'll never truly know them for who they are as people so...caring less seems to be the way to go and just enjoy the music and whatever they put out without reading too much into it. but that's kinda difficult since artists realised they want die hard stans bc those are the people who make them money so the music industry and every player in it as a whole encourages us to be die hard stans (people within the fandom do this too). frankly jungkook is the only musician I've ever heard say that he should be less important to us and we ourselves should be the most important to ourselves. I think just the way with how fandoms are people talk about stuff a lot, tbh I was exhausted yesterday after talking about muse and jikook all day long...but that's how overanalysing happens. you can take things face value but then there's people in the fandom who talk like they know more and then that kinda makes me wonder 'do I know these people when I take things face value or would I know them better/more accurately if I kept up with them the way stans do'. me leaving twitter for example, I'm sure I missed loads of shit but at this point I don't even care anymore.

[greenapricot]

wip thursday

I didn't manage to post yesterday, but I've decided I can do what I want.

This is from chapter 4 of The Names of All the Winds. The chapter has been giving me all kinds of trouble (and made me realize that I really am going to have to finish a full draft of each chapter to work out the lore before I can post chapter 2), but I think I finally cracked it this morning.

____

The church bells ring out eleven. Robbie stands a moment longer as clouds cast quickly moving shadows across the water, and the chiming of the bells echoes through the narrow streets of the village below, then turns down the path.

The path leads to a street that’s little more than a lane, following the steep slope past stone walls with flowering rosemary cascading over top, and two storey stone houses that look as if they may be unchanged since the first mystics planted the olive groves that stretch up the mountain on terraces behind his B&B.

With all his years living in Oxford, Robbie is well used to old buildings—many of them older than these—but here, it’s not only the architecture, or even the landscape. There is that presence as well. He hasn’t felt it as strongly as he did the day he found James busking in that little out of the way piazza, but it has been there, sort of hovering in the background, ever since the first night he came north. He just hadn’t realised what it was until it mingled with James’ music and led him through the streets.

Robbie’s grown used to the presence by now, even a bit fond of it. It feels almost as if it’s keeping him company while he travels around on his own. Which is a bit mad, the idea of some ancient power wanting to have anything to do with him specifically. Most likely it’s a sign that the stories James told him about the great protector beast that dwells in the depths of the lake have gone to his head.

All the same, it is rather nice to be alone and yet not feel alone. To feel a gentle nudge down one lane or another when he’s got no particular destination in mind and nowhere he needs to go, like a walking companion matching his stride; not unlike the way he and James had fallen into step with each other.

Has Laura felt this presence too, he wonders? Is this why she suggested Lago di Garda as a destination? She didn’t mention it, but then if she had before he was here to feel it for himself, he would have scoffed at the very idea of it. May have even picked a different holiday destination entirely.

[squirmydonnie]

Vent:

I am.causing my pain

I never know quite where to.look

But when I do. It's often recently been the wrong place

With people who.simply don't have the capacity for me

I hope that they do or will

But the truth is I can never be sure.

I forget that my parents are even an option sometimes.

They would hate to hear that.

And they will same the same things I'm used to.

Sometimes they surprise me.

I often only want more information about them. I don't want to hear your name old story you usually do. The same topic again. I liked hearing more. Not that it was positive things. It was sad things. But I still liked hearing it.

I get the need for.positive reinforcement. But I don't want to give it to you.

I've done it before, and it's become tired.

I don't really feel like it.

I didn't think very much about it before.

I didn't realise I was making a choice.

That I've been making the choice to not tell them.things.

I do it very regularly.

I think.i might be a more healthy individual if I did that from the start.

But I had seen it as something I would do on my own. As to not bother anyone with it.

In the same way I chose to not ask for clothes I liked, out of fear that money would squander.

I wish i wasn't perceptive.

Not that it doesn't do any good for me, but that it hurts me.so much.

Being aware only does you a bit of the work.

I don't really know where I'm going with this.

But it feels better to not be rushed.

Rushed by fear.

Even though I actually still am.

My dad told me I'm the first thing he's ever loved at first sight.

He's told me this a few times.

When driving me home from the hospital he couldn't stop looking at me through the mirror.

My mom had to keep reminding him to focus.

I've never heard him say anything like this about my mom.

It made me wonder if I'm the first thing he's ever loved at first sight, how he could treat me like this.

The way that he did. Because he's mostly stopped now.

But I've forced myself to remember. So I could understand why we are like this.

When I said that it may be a trust issue yesterday. I wished that I could have taken it back. So that he wouldn't think it was so seriously.

I want people to take me seriously but I'm also quite afraid of it.

I didn't want him to think things were more wrong then he already thought.

I guess that he probably should know, but it doesn't make me feel much better about saying it in the first place.

It made me wish I would have shut up. That I just wished I would have been able to so stay quiet like I normally do.

That just the once I'd be able to keep it in, like I do regularly.

But how could it be anything but mistrust when you do not see me.

When I came out it was a mistake.

It was supposed to be 2 years from now.

But I got so caught up in the emotion of the moment that I said it.

This time I was getting so tired of hearing the regular and more annoyance than usual, that I let it slip.

You see a lot about what I was like.

How I was before 5th grade.

He always says that.

He mentions 5th grade as if it's a maker about me. And everytime I don't know what he's saying about it.

5th grade was a turning point, but still what I'd say was a great year for me.

I enjoyed it greatly.

He even admitted that I didn't seem phased by graduating from the grade. So I never fully understood why he's held onto it so much.

He told me about something that happened at the playground once.

But to me because I don't remember it and I can't connect it much with problems I have now I don't really understand.

There weren't any kids my age there. They were all my brothers age or younger. I got sad. We were leaving. But a.girl came there who was my age. I asked to stay and then we did.

Its sweet of him to remember this. But I'm not quite sure what he means by the change.

I really wish that he would hurry up and tell me sooner. That he would just elaborate on it already.

Because he's been talking about it since 6th grade.

I may have an idea of what he's talking about. But I wish he was more specific.

I can't believe I stayed up until 6 today.

[septemberrie]

Battle Lines is a comfort read for me and I was VERY interested to note that a particular chapter (Renegotiation II not that I have it memorised or anything) has had some tweaks made to it (all of which I love, btw. I think you mentioned you were keen to rewrite it a bit and I think the updated version is 👌).

I was also very excited to see you updated the chapters to be 21/22. This isn’t a “hurry up and write an epilogue” comment, but more of a “how you feeling about it?” comment, because I think you also said you didn’t realise there’d be such an appetite and hadn’t originally planned for one. Is it nice to be writing it because so many people want it, or is that like, a lot of pressure?

Oh goodness waking up to this ask was just 🥰🥰🥰 thank you Dexter!!

Yes I did update Renegotiation II but I didn't make a public announcement, partly bc I didn't think many people would notice but I stand corrected 😅🤩 I've gotten a few comments and they have all been very kind, so I'm very grateful it's been received well. I've been summarizing it as "a little less spicy but a little more true to the characters" so I hope it came across that way to you, too!

This so funny lmao I feel like I've been caught with my hand in the cookie jar! I have almost finished the epilogue, I'm 99% sure I'll post it today. I did notice yesterday when I was futzing around with ao3 to draft the author's note, etc that it showed as 21/22 but since I just saved a draft I assumed that only I would see that change. Guess not lolol you're an amazing unintentional sleuth 😂😂

But to answer your question, I am finally feeling good about it. It took me a couple days after I posted the climactic chapter that the ending, as written, wasn't "neat" so much as "pithy" and after some reflection I decided it was not what I wanted. I am a people-pleaser so while I'll say yes, I felt pressure, it's not because of anything anyone ever said or did, it's definitely a "me" problem of internalizing the toxic notion that "if you're not producing then you don't deserve to be part of the fandom" which we all know cognitively is bullshit but that little voice is always there for me.

That's why I allowed myself about 4-6 weeks off to decide if it was really something I wanted to do, and by then I'd had some time and distance and there were ideas I wanted to share about what happens after the curtain falls and at a certain point, I'm a writer so why not spell it out within the story as a slice-of-life epilogue rather than as an addendum outside of it.

So. I'm happy with it, fluff is a challenge for me but I found some ways to balance it. It does make it easier to write after I've finally accepted that it is a good enough story that readers will forgive a little hokey-ness 🥰 Thank you for asking! Writing is hard but rambling about my writing never is!!

[pillbug-worm-pillbug]

Maybe if I write my thoughts out it will be better. Maybe this one large, deep-chested breathe can become my scream into the void which takes this heavy, swollen balloon out of my internal cavity. So here we go. Forgive the dirtiness and filth of it all. I am just trying to be a good human- that is all I have ever done.

If I could see you again, Sparrow, I would do something to entirely destroy my self-respect. Let me explain. I think of seeing you often, although maybe not more often than is normal, given the terrible, untidy ending we made for ourselves. Once every few months, I'd say. Briefly. I usually just imagine what it would be like to run into you at the store in a week or on the street in fifteen years - in both instances I am doing wonderfully, I am gorgeous and molten and loved and desired and you wonder why you ever let me go. In those very brief dreams I have of us once again meeting, I usually hope for you to realise that we could have been great - that I have been great without you anyway. Because I want to realise that too.

But I heard about you yesterday from a friend. You intruded on my mind without my foreknowledge or planning. I am not used to thinking of you outside of my little delusions of grandeur. This friend told me you changed your hairstyle, and I realised when I tried to picture it that I have, strangely, forgotten what you look like. I can't picture your face like I can Tomoe's, can't formulate the shape of your nose or mouth or where your moles and freckles were. I remember the colour of your eyes, as cliche as it sounds, but thats about it. How terrifying. How terrifying that someone I loved so dearly, someone who broke my heart so violently, can slip away into fuzziness after only a few years. And so you're sticking in my head these days.

It has gone past just the desire to have you see my glow-up. If I met you now... I think about doing things I know I would never actually do. Not really, I don't think. There IS no way to meet you, anyhow. I will not scrape through the dregs of our destroyed world looking for one. But the fantasies of what I MIGHT do, of what I secretly WANT to do, they change. And I think that still matters.

I would tell you I'm sorry I was cruel and stupid. I would explain to you as graciously and humbly as I could, with great humility, that I was volatile and aggressive and problematic towards you and Kate because I was in love with you and I just didn't realise. Losing you made me feel horribly unwanted and horribly unstable and horribly, horribly confused, and in that confusion I hurt myself and I hurt you both. And where Kate has forgiven me, you have not. You must have your reasons. But I still remembered the birthday card you made me for my 15th that reads 'I'm ever so happy you were born and I could never stop loving you'. You are perhaps not a very good person now, Sparrow. I hear you've hurt people and you've hurt yourself and you refuse to learn from your mistakes. I like to think I'm not as bad as you might be. So while I know you're objectively not a great person, I don't hate you. I still... A part of my heart is still forever yours. I can live without it, I can grow a new chunk to fill is place, but the piece of my heart that is yours remembers where it came from. It remembers me, and so it's inaccurate to say I stopped loving you entirely, point blank. And so I wonder if those childish words ring true. Can you hate me, as everyone says you do, and still love me as you once promised? To be honest, I don't really care. I'm some way, I'm glad for that - I have realised you and I will never be in love and get married and that is okay. I do fear nobody will ever love me like you did, but then I suppose you didn't really love me all the way. You didn't love me the way I loved you. But it felt like you did. It felt like something I've not known since then and I always fear I never will again. And I don't really have a remedy for that fear other than patience and faith. Those words are comforting enough, so I'll take stock in them.

But at the same time, its not all virtuous. In truth, I don't care if you'll never love me like you did because I don't need you to. But I don't need you to because if I had only one day with you, I could satiate myself with that. I am not as pure a creature as I should be, Sparrow. Are any of us? Probably. Maybe. Perhaps. We humans like to think big, have big grand moral plans for how to be perfect and healthy and squeaky-clean. We aim to be angels but we are only risen apes, filled with filth and sin and failure. When I was 15 I thought I was evil but I was just 15. Now I'm 18 and I think I'm perverted - am I? Or am I just 18?

One day and I'd beg you not to love me like I thought you did back then, but to love me the way I'm now desperate for from anyone. Your body, though it has changed in the years we've been apart, is still yours. Mine will still remember. You are comfortable, familiar, safe. You were once a safe enough place for me to put down a piece of my heart, so even if you've grown volatile and cruel, even if you would spit at me and call me pathetic, the body... the body remembers where the severed parts of it were once laid down to rest, to be warm. I want to have sex with you because I know you, or I knew what you were, and for one night I am capable of forgetting that you're not still like that anymore. I like being degraded so you can say whatever you like and use the sex as a means to try and hurt me. Until this moment I never considered that you might use it to try and hurt yourself, and now I have to think about whether THAT would deter me. Probably. Because I have enough self respect, just about, I think, to not actually do any of it. But god, I can imagine it. I can imagine crawling into your arms like I've arrived tired at the end of the universe, I can imagine you holding me like you couldn't back in quarantine, finally making me feel like I'm worthy of every type of love. You made me feel so worthy. Can you do this for me too? I feel like I'll be better after that, knowing that someone can desire me. But knowing it is still only you, that it has only ever been you, will in reality probably make me worse.

I yearn for what we had sometimes. I wake up with things to tell you. You'd love the new show I'm into and you'd love me loving it and I'd love you loving me love it and it felt so good to be in the love vortex when we were kids. We cannot go back there. Those days are gone and dead. And I can only look forward to someone LIKE you in my future. But Sparrow, I wish for you sometimes. My first love, that's what I call you. In truth, you were not. But you were the first one that hurt. Perhaps I shouldn't measure love by how much it hurts to lose but then again perhaps I should. After all, that is proof you were worth having, that losing you hurt so badly.

I would grovel at your feet, I would do anything. I don't care how evil and messy you get. If I close my eyes for one day, you could be my Sparrow again.

But I will never see you again and this is the only letter I will ever write you, and I'm not going to send it. I don't know your address, after all.

- Written June 18th, 2023.

[wetcatspellcaster]

I debated reblogging this (mostly bc I hate putting my thoughts out and being perceived) but I have been thinking about it since I saw it yesterday. so tbh wanted to give OP credit where credit was due for being genuinely Thought Provoking, and give their hard work more reach.

I think some equivalences in this table work better than others and there's nuances a graphic by necessity can't capture: many people headcanon Orin as related to Durge vs. Gortash, and gaining Minthara required killing refugees before the patch - I think maybe Larian realised they were doing her character and Emma Gregory's work a disservice, and that's why they patched it out. "Is it ok to commit murder in the name of best feminist praxis? Discuss." (This is a joke, as murder in a videogame is not a moral reflection of the player it just sounded funny in my head.)

... but BG3 does have racism/misogyny problems and it's silly to pretend otherwise - and I think that's why the 'minor' character equivalences work better than others. It also made me think about the number of 'single' male NPCs encountered in the game, versus the number of female NPCs that are then placed in relationships (Aylin, Isobel, Alfira, Lakrissa), not to mention a number of the female NPCs with detailed interactions with Tav (like Arabella and Mol) who are literally, children.

The reason I wanted to reblog however (and I'm not disagreeing with OP, merely externalising some thoughts) is bc I think many of these character focuses are so influenced by Tav and people's choice around the writing of their Tav. all the examples I give above link to that (is the charater related to Tav/Durge, is the character a reflection of the Tav's moral choices, is the NPC free for a Tav/NPC pairing).

BG3 is a very OC and OC/canon character heavy fandom, and I think a lot of those OCs are women rather than men. In other news, water is wet.

OP's work doesn't necessarily have to cover this, but I was thinking about it, and the more I thought about it, the weirder I felt. Bc discussing misogyny in this fandom is hard, when you ignore one of the most major ways that women are written into the game, which is via Tav/Durge. I think a lot of the time, when fic authors write incredibly detailed, interesting female OCs, that work isn't seen as feminist, it's seen as ... self-insert, wish-fulfilment, author avatar, blah blah blah, and rarely, if ever, acknowledged as creating a nuanced and multifaceted female character... which feeds into the misogyny OP is talking about, right? Rather than having written a woman, or even a queer woman in the case of bi/pan female characters, an author is dismissed as 'writing a 2D insert/nameless body to get railed by Halsin/Astarion/Gortash/Raphael' etc... even if that's not the work that's happening? And even if that person has put a lot of thought into that woman, AO3 tagging will not reflect that.

I realise I just sound like I'm covering my own ass, as someone who writes 'female char/Astarion'. Maybe I am. But I've literally done this to myself - I remember receiving an ask saying 'did you write a deliberately feminist fic by giving your Tav agency?' and my reply was 'lol i'm queer, woman stepping on evil man hot'. I dismissed myself??? But the truth is I write OC fanfiction bc my OC is one of my favourite and most interesting parts of the story I am writing. and particularly in BG3 fandom and it's overlap with D&D, where character creation/insertion is an integral part of the experience, I feel like dismissing all female Tavs/Durges as only giving more attention to male characters or not participating in the writing of women is also frustrating... just bc it's another layer of misogyny/comphet wildness, to assume authors of female main characters aren't using that woman as a vehicle for anything other than lust for a pixelated man.

Anyway, that's not what i think OP is doing, and I think their points are totally fair, this is more just a post that provoked a lot of my own thinking that I then wanted to share. TL;DR I think a lot of the attention and nuanced writing female characters get in this fandom is actually centred on Tav/Durge, for a multitude of reasons, and yes that can still be frustrating but it's not actually something that should be dismissed. A lot of people are writing some really interesting women with a multitude of different strengths/flaws, moral compasses, backgrounds, sexual orientations, etc... they just also happen to be a romance with Astarion or Gale, for instance.

And yes, there is still a bias there towards NPCs, and that's not even touching on the racism behind the canon and in-game writing of the companion romances. But reducing this veritable plethora of female main characters down to 'just another annoying Astarion/Gale-mancing Tav' is itself sexist and misogynistic, if that makes sense.

(Again, this is nothing that OP has done or is perpetuating, more just a frustration I have inside my own brain that reading this post helped me to articulate. I'll shut up now lol.)

A common issue in fandom spaces is female characters ignored in favor of their male counterparts, and one of the biggest reasons I see given is that the women just aren't as interesting as the men. They're placed in lesser roles with less story impact, less personality, less character development, so of course the men get more fan interest.

With that in mind, here's 9 sets of characters who DO have comparable characterization, plot relevance/presence, and personal development -- and how many tagged works each character has on Archive of Our Own. Spoilers: it's pretty bad.

[gojorgeous]

🥺🥺🥺I missed you toooooo (am I seeing it right? I just got my own tag???? OMG.)

Oh I will wait. Don't worry. Take your own time. I WILL ALWAYS WAIT. hehe. And just a remainder on the behalf of the fandom, you never have to push yourself for forcing a second part out of you, we are happy with just anything you'd serve us!!

As for the Suguru fic, i usually don't read any fic that involves dynamics other than the reader and charachter being....normal humans. (Yes. Naked truth? I've never read a vampire fic or abo dynamic fic before ever and I don't I will in the future, i just don't think it's my cup of tea.)

😭like you get what I mean? I can't relate to it all too well so I never read it in the first place but then this time, since it was you I got a bit curious. I read an articles on abo dynamics and jumped right into reading it and oh.

Oh.

It wasn't that bad?! (Even tho my brain still couldn't wrap itself around the concept all too well and was trying to make it realistic the whole time☠️)

I really REALLY like how you show the healthy Sub x Dom dynamics in it. Where the sub feels safe with the dom and willingly (like it's a second nature to them) submits to them. A lot of time I see it being forced, like genuinely genuinely forced and I hate it. Being a sub myself I know for a fact I'm not letting anyone force themselves on me.

I also like how you pointed out "he was submitting to you as much as you were submitting to him" and how even without saying he - the dom- knew about the sub's need. That's truly how a healthy sub x dom relationship is like to me. The dom aren't just on the top so they can force themselves onto the sub and get what they want, they are on top because that's their nature.

A true and healthy dom would care about their sub's needs more than theirs. That's the responsibility you shall take, you should be willing to postpone your pleasures to satisfy your sub first. A true dom would always respect the fact that someone put all their trust in them and they'd more than happily fulfill their duties as a dom and this was portrayed so well in the fic. I can't tell how much I appreciate the way you've shown that in the fic AND ALSO I WAS SIMPING SO BAD OVER SUGURU JUST YESTERDAY MORNING I CAN'T EVEN TELL YOU THE UNHOLY THOUGHTS ARFGGGHHHHHGGG and this fulfilled and SERVED me. So thank you again.

Suguru 🛐

(oh shoot I didn't realise how long this became omg I hope you don't mind 😭)

(it's the shameless anon baby ;))

shameless anon i cannot believe i was just your introduction to omegaverse PFTTTTTTTTTTTT

it's honestly hilarious to me that my work would introduce ANYONE to omegaverse LMAO - i feel like reading a/b/o fics was such a ... moment when i was like 12 or 13 (DON'T DO THIS MDNI ON THIS BLOG 18 PLUS ONLY I MEAN IT I AM SERIOUS I SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN READING A/B/O AT 12 BAD BAD BAD BAD) but like it was definitely... an experience. i don't know how to explain it LMAO

a/b/o can easily turn into a dark sort of dubcon/noncon sort of space, so i'm glad you felt like the dynamics were safe and not forced!

also suguru rots my brain day and night. period.