#also love there is content for him specifically on here tumblr barely ever lets a bitch down

[takemyhand-justice]

sometimes it’s actually super fun and sexy to get a new actor obsession and start going through their filmography. Like thanks Downton I’m now going to watch everything Rob James-Collier is in because he has a magnetic screen presence and is very talented, thanks a lot haha. 

#rob james collier #thomas barrow #downton abbey #ackley bridge #i watched the two series before he started purely for context haha #i'm glad he works pretty consistently but I hate finding an actor and being like #everyone should know how bloody good he is #also love there is content for him specifically on here tumblr barely ever lets a bitch down

[landinrris]

i have a question to cleanse your mind from that young royals hot mess on twitter. do you think norrix may in fact be real and if it is when do you think it became real? and if not do you think it might ever become real? my own view is they've not acted on anything right now and would say they're only very good friends if asked and are most likely even still hooking up with women but there are feelings much stronger than normal friends bc well it's crystal clear that it's not a normal friendship but a fair chunk deeper than that like a soul connection or something as an anon said the other day. but i don't know if they'll ever get up the courage to act on it. my projection clearly as we'll never really know how they feel if they don't act on it and go public but they come across like of two of my friends who so clearly care for each other in a non-platonic way and are joined at the hip every opportunity and are physically affectionate with one another but never did anything about it so far at least from what we all know anyway and only one has recently come out as not straight. though i guess even having that deep love even if it remains platonic is a special thing regardless. was wondering what your take on it is if you don't mind being public about that.

Okay, so here's the thing. I'm very hesitant to speculate in an open space about someone's sexuality where anyone can see it. (Sometimes I really wish Tumblr's search function didn't catch literally everything, but whatever). I don't know, I have really complicated feelings on the matter in general because I recognize things from my own life, but nothing is universal etc etc. And maybe I blur the lines on my blog a bit, but at the end of the day, the plausible deniability side, and the side that doesn't really know any of the people I post about, will lean towards these relationships not being real in the romantic sense.

That being said, I will gladly address this question from a more "fictionalized" viewpoint using things that have actually happened. It might be counter-intuitive to write like that, but it hasn't stopped me yet because I am not them, so it's default fiction.

In one of the things I'm writing that utilizes real-world timelines, I have them kind of getting together following the Spa 2023 gig when Lando goes back to Amsterdam and posts the photo to his Insta Story from Martin's balcony. All the feelings from the past year build up until they can't hold them back anymore.

The reason I think Spa (besides the fact that the aforementioned picture kills me), is that following it, and even the event itself really, Lando largely stops posting their meetups on his social media. Someone else brought to my attention that after New York and Canada, McLaren also largely stopped posting content of the two of them. As compared to Miami where there was plenty of content of Martin hanging around Lando's driver's room.

So New York/Canada happens with "Real Love." Then Spa happens with Lando and Max flying into the show and Lando going back to Amsterdam. Lando specifically realizes then that if he wants to avoid scrutiny and rumors and gossip as much as possible, he has to let the psycho girl rumors go wild while he flies under the radar with privacy and avoids advertising who he's with. Hence, a tangible lack of material from both him and McLaren for the rest of the season when Martin is present.

The ski trip is the exception because I think the ski trip is special. Especially because Martin was nowhere near France prior to it. Lando says, fuck it, for a brief moment and posts the photos he wants to post.

But then we have winter break and go back to both of them being very quiet when they're together. Martin gets to post the proof that they've been together while Lando keeps his profile meticulously bare of anyone but himself. The fact that Martin was back in Amsterdam for ~8 hours and posted 3-4 things says a lot. But he's quiet again, now that he's somewhere snowy while Lando's plans of Finland seemingly grow nearer.

They're not sure if they'll ever broadcast anything, but maybe they'll work back up to posting like they used to pre-New York where they were much more likely to show up on one of their Stories at the least.

So, in my world, yes it's happened, and this is why I think so.

In the real, tangible world, who knows. Whatever their relationship is clearly means a great deal to them both. If it's purely platonic, if there's a legitimate romantic element, or if they just sit there and pine for the next few years, I hope they're happy and content they have one another. Finding people you click with that quickly and genuinely is a special thing.

#this got long so i shoved it under a read-more #i am 100% all for unironically tin-hatting in DMs once we establish we're on the same page but it feels a little different in a public post #to speak matter of fact and concretely #ask #lando #martin #norrix #writing tag

[punemy-spotted]

The Price You Pay Chapter 4: Breach

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader, Senator!Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements, Dub-Con, Dark!Fic, Abuse of Legal System, Murder, Character Death (minor, possibly major), Love Triangle, Political AU, Mafia AU, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Abuse Mentions, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply, Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat

Chapter Warnings: Angst; Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse; Betrayal; Lies; F!Reader’s Age Kind of Finalized; Specific Reference to Age; Blackmail; Crying; Slight Panic Attack; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Chapter Summary: Even the truth can’t set you free.

Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3

Notes: And we’re back to pain. My outline got derailed for this chapter so bear with me, sometimes revelations need to be hammered in. No smut here for now but I also needed to get this arc finished so I can start on the next.

Also I know I keep jumping forward — I swear I will write about their relationship growing.

Thank you all for reading and commenting! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, even if you’re yelling at me.

Not beta-read, these sins belong to me and me alone.

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

The air is…

Shifted.

Shifted enough that the whole office notices, avoids yours, avoids the glare Steve Rogers fires at them the moment they approach the door, avoids your eye. Shifted enough that you miss the before, the pressure of his presence demanding your attention, the smugness in his endless eyes you denied looking at.

Shifted.

Counsel.

What?

We need to talk.

Is that not what you’ve been avoiding doing all morning, Captain?

You swear you can hear his molar crack in the dead silence, but your eyes never flit upwards from the contract you’re poring through, red pen in hand.

Focus.

It’s a job, this life, and this is a part of it, the presence of him, the pressure of him. It’s a job, and he calls on you to do your duty and you do but no one has ever asked you to be kind and no one has ever asked you to smile as you bear it so you don’t.

It’s a job, this life, and this is a part of it.

You. Are a part of it.

Counsel.

It’s a bark, an order, an annoyance and you shouldn’t let his stubborn fury be the thing that derails you. This is your domain. Your palace of glass and steel, remember? New York buzzes behind you and you surge forward on the tightrope of his affections, teetering dangerously close to his temper and always, always daring him to pull you down.

Try it again.

Fine, with a sigh and a setting down of your papers, You’re closer to the door.

And in your defense, he is, seated on your couch as stiff as a board, scrolling through his phone on occasion and — previously, at least — deftly ignoring your inquiries about the status of his office and why he needs to spend his morning in yours.

He fixes you with a look you do not name and proceeds to stand anyways. The door clicks shut and stays that way — both of you have learned.

Do you still talk to him?

Excuse me?

The Senator. Are. You. Still. In. Contact.

He spreads out every word like an accusation and every word turns you a little colder. You’ve been avoiding this. Avoiding him, distracted by work, the both of you but now you are back in each other’s orbits and this…

This cannot be avoided.

I haven’t spoken to him beyond to tell him I returned home safe that night.

Not. For lack of wanting.

If he’s hurt you, just say the words.

There’s nothing you can say.

It’s been a week. Almost two.

He’s been kind, stayed away, kept his distance but that… that will not last. Only as long as whatever conference has his office busy and then you know what comes next and then you know what comes after.

The bruising may have faded but the memories remain, after all.

They always do.

Steve Rogers is not Andy Barber, is not warm-eyed concern or a soft-voiced invitation, is not trying to save you from the horrors you cannot name, is not to be trusted but Andy Barber is also not Steve Rogers, is not exactly the man you expect, is not the answer to your dilemma, is not the devil you know and you…

Are still testing your wings.

Get up.

Get up and walk away from the prison of your desk, see how far you can get before you shackle yourself to your own ambition. Get. Up.

Blue eyes watch you like he’s calculating the next angle of his attack and technically you know that’s exactly the case but let’s pretend a moment he doesn’t have his claws out and you aren’t trapped in a cage for him to batter.

Delude yourself into the power you think you have, and keep him there, across the room where he cannot show you how effortlessly he strips you of it and how deeply you enjoy it.

Don’t.

You may be in bed with the mob but you are not asleep to his crimes and this is just an interim, a plan, a moment.

You stood me up, Counsel. After we made our deal.

It was a week ago and you ever-so-kindly taught me my lesson — don’t wince as you speak, don’t let him know you remember, don’t let him think you actually learned from his hand, hard against your body.

He hasn’t since, after all.

He says your name.

He says your name and your blood runs cold and you freeze by the coffee machine you keep in your office and you turn. Senator Barber is a friend.

A dangerous friend. I won’t even ask if you know his stance on —

On the Syndicate? Oh I know. I know who he shakes hands with.

Then you know why I’m asking.

Are you loyal?

Are you?

Is it loyalty that keeps you here?

Don’t let your hands shake when you look at him. Don’t let him see the slide of your eyes, the glance outside, the wondering how long before your window would be a portal and that tightrope would snap.

You are not a fool.

This. Is not loyalty.

I keep to my ethical duties, Captain.

You’re sleeping with your boss.

Oh that one makes you laugh, sharp and cruel and you do look at him then, fix your eyes onto him and raise an eyebrow and watch. All that power, all that smugness, wrapped up in one body and how does he contain it, do you know?

I believe the actual term is serving at your pleasure.

It’s back to the game, the dance, the ruse, the steps you take around each other, the blades he digs into your chest the reminders he gives you you are a whore you are a whore you are a whore and you lift your chin up, dare him to look at the bruises his lips leave on your skin and ask him in the silence and what will you do about it.

You could hate him. You do, technically. You hate that you could love him in the early hours of the morning, when his eyes seek you out and soften at the reminder you’re still here. You hate that his invasive presence in your office is a shield as much as it is a virus, a comfort in the silence and you hate most of all that the way he looks at you with that open desire women might normally have just dreamed was possible makes you want to return it.

You hate that he is dangerous. That he has bound you to him like this, chained you to the idea of his warmth and that there is a sick sort of safety in the binding.

You hate that he looks at you now with something like hope, with something like obsession, with something like vulnerability and you hate that it strips you of that cold armor as effortlessly as his hands strip you of your resistance.

And he could hate you too, in the whispers he leaves on your shoulders when he thinks you’re asleep. He could hate that you are soft, that you are sweet on his tongue that you…

Are his.

Could hate that he has thought of nothing else but the very theory of your betrayal and you know none of these things but his eyes are not so inscrutable as he thinks and so—

He twists the knife.

I talked to your Judge, by the way.

You did what?

You heard me. Interesting conversation.

Excuse me?

You really sold yourself to me for a lover’s spat, Counsel? I thought you were better than that — woman of the law and all.

A lover’s spat? That’s what he told you?

Just what would you call it, if not that?

He’s daring you, back to somewhere between smug and angry, as if disappointed you made him waste his time and all you can do is feel your heart sinking, feel yourself back in that place again, the decade-long sting of control over your body, the painful reminder of the girl you once were.

Where is he?

Did you think I’d clean up your dirty laundry for you? I’m not a breakup counselor, and you nee—

You left him alive!? The panic in your voice is so palpable it stops him in his tracks all over again, suspicious and surprised and you step back to reach for something — steady yourself steady yourself steady yourself you are not safe you are not safe you are not safe.

I’m not killing your ex-boyfriend without a good reas—

I was nineteen!

The world tilts, shifts, your knees are buckling, that’s tears in your eyes and you.

Are that girl again.

Too small, too scared, too naive to know better, too easy to mold and break and manipulate and you promised you’d never be her again, you promised you’d get her justice and you promised it wouldn’t be like this over and over again, promised he wouldn’t sink his fangs into you a third time.

What? He sounds smaller. Or is it faraway? You are too busy trying to stand, trying to still the shaking of your hands, the cold chill in your veins, too busy feeling your knees surrendering, too busy sliding to the floor and staring blankly into your memory.

Counsel. What. Did. You. Say. He repeats himself, and then he’s crouching before you, holding your chin in his hand and when did you start having tears on your cheeks for him to wipe away?

I was nineteen, you repeat, blank and broken, not seeing his brow furrow, not seeing the regret flash over his expression, I didn’t want it. I never wanted it.

What are you saying, sweetness? How dare he sound so soft? How dare he sound like he actually cares, when he’s the reason you’re here, on this floor, barely resisting your breakdown yet again?

You know better.

I was nineteen, a third time, I needed a job, something to give me experience, and he — he used me. That was my experience.

He’s starting to understand, but it doesn’t matter to you, not when you’re staring too far into the past, into a sneering face and cruel hands.

(I can ruin you or I can help you, Intern, so you make your choice. You need me.)

It never stops. Not after the first time — but you know that.

But you know that. That’s your knife, the one you twist into his chest and the realization sinks in heavy as an anchor, the thing he’s done.

The thing he’s done to you.

So why wait until now?

I would have waited forever.

You hid the letter. Hid it well enough even he wouldn’t have found it rifling through your things. Hid the threat in those typewritten words and the casual signature swept across the stationary, unaffected.

Men like him never face consequences. Only you, only the women they make use of, the ones they turn into commodities for their enjoyment. Who would care if you’d made it public, if you showed the world the kind of man he was — he was appointed for life, he was friends with the Governor, he was powerful and you were never going to be strong enough.

(You wouldn’t want anyone in the District Attorney’s office knowing just the sorts of things you’re willing to do to get your way. I can still help you be an exceptional lawyer, Intern.)

What are you? Ambition and drive and skill but what does it all mean when it can be reduced to plaything and pet project and whore.

I helped him get appointed. He helped me get into law school. Introduced me to… To Andy Barber, who calls you Sunshine and watches out for you and comes to New York despite having no power in the state just to see you again because he worries, because he cares.

You pay.

And sometimes that payment bounces back.

You pay and you pay and you pay and you struggle but what is the culmination of your strife is it the sight of you finally broken on the floor, is it the moment he’s been waiting for, dragged off your pedestal why couldn’t he have left well enough alone didn’t he know the horse was for your protection and not his pride?

No.

They never do.

They never do, do they, always so wrapped up in themselves and even now he kneels in front of you and wipes your tears but he has no words to say to atone for what he’s done and you know he can never.

I need you to leave.

The words come out without your control.

You know what you are. You are fury made flesh and you will not be manipulated again, not by the pressure of his hands on your face, not by the way he almost hugs you, he lied he lied he lied he lied.

Sweetness…

No. You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.

You could have tolerated it. You could have accepted it you could have let yourself become the prize he took, owned his defeat by defeating you, you might even have enjoyed it but no.

No.

I held up my end of the bargain.

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #mob!au #political!au #dark!fic #steve rogers smut #andy barber smut #dark!steve rogers #angst #series #mob!steve rogers x reader #i really am gonna die here

[feathered-serpents]

Tagged by @crit20lesbian (thank you!!) 

1- why did you choose your URL?

When this blog started I was really into Good Omens (still am! just quieter about it but that’ll change as we get closer to season 2) so I wanted a URL that referenced Good Omens but was also neutral enough that I could switch fandoms without it being weird. “Feathered-serpents” is meant to be referring to the angels and snakes in Good Omens but also the feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl because I’m a mythology slut. I love this deity so much and he’s ALWAYS made to be a monster in Western media when he’s!! A god of art, wind, and knowledge!! And created humanity!! He’s so cool Aztec mythos is SO COOL 

2- Any side blogs?

Not really. I used to have a Flight Rising side blog but it’s been abandoned for awhile. Been thinking about making a Dragon Age sideblog but I basically just use Twitter for that so this is what we get 

3- How long have you been on Tumblr?

10 years. Since I was 13. Technically 11 if you count when I made a blog in 2010 but didn’t know how to use tumblr since it’s not user friendly and just let it sit there for a year until I figured it out. 

It’s certainly done something to my development. Dunno what. But something 

4- Do you have a queue tag?

No. Everything you get is live 

5- Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I’ve had a series of blogs over the years, leaving older ones by either switching fandoms after I’d built too much of a niche in one to change my whole blog or by deleting the accounts cause I was swearing off tumblr and we can all see how that worked out. This one is my fifth main blog and I made it cause the fourth one got shadowbanned for no reason! Yay! 

6- Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

There’s this amazing comic by the artist @hollow-head of Aziraphale and Crowley’s drunken debate from the book and it contained a panel with Aziraphale in a little rocket ship as Crowley explained interstellar bird travel. I thought it was cute and asked if I could use it and they said yes and even sent me a version with a white background. I love it and I’m never changing it 

7- Why did you choose your header?

I really like the book Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman it’s DEEPLY weird and I’m still waiting for an adaptation. There’s an illustrated version which is beautiful and my header is the scene where the main character first enters the Underground world. I thought it was cool! 

8- What’s your post with the most notes?

The fucking. Stupid female aliens post I made in a rage after hearing that female aliens were barely included in the game Mass Effect because the artists “Didn’t know what that would look like” 

Like five seconds after I made this some dude reblogged it with “takes more than a voice and pronoun change but aight” after calling me a “puritan who hates women” on a separate post for expressing my approval of a scene in that same game being changed where a woman is confiding in you about her tormented childhood while the camera is just. Glued to her ass for no reason 

(he also reblogged and disagreed with me on like. many Mass Effect posts. It was deeply strange. I did not know him. He’s blocked now) 

9- How many mutuals do you have? Not sure but quite a few! I’d say about half the people I follow are mutuals as I tend to follow people I see in my notes a lot 

10- How many followers do you have?

1,577 but the number tends to go up and down constantly and also a good amount are probably porn bots 

11-How many people do you follow?

279! 

12- Have you ever made a shit post?

That’s all I do here 

13- How often do you use Tumblr each day?

That’s between me and god 

14- Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

Not really. If someone is annoying me or if they just post too much content I don’t like I’ll just block them. Usually it’s not even because I think they’re a bad person I just don’t wanna see their Eliasfucking posts in the TMA tag I’m sorry it’s too much* 

*(that’s an example i’m not referring to anyone specific) 

15- How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

Usually avoid unless I think it’s very important 

16- Do you like tag games?

Yes but I will usually forget to do them unless I do it RIGHT AWAY (like this one) 

17- Do you like ask games?

Also yes but I tend to forget to respond to those too. I will do the WWDITS/TMA prompts you all sent I will do them I just get overwhelmed by things I enjoy 

18- Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

We’re all in pretty niche corners so I don’t think any of us are “famous” but I am mutuals with some really cool artists. That’s fun! 

19- Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Platonically <3

Oh god now I have to tag people uhhhhhhh @alexiley​, @dudeiwannasleep​, @annabelle--cane​, @ghostbustermelanieking​, is that enough? that feels like enough (no pressure!!) 

#personal #tag game

[babygirl06301]

When Did Dean Fall In Love With Cas?

tl;dr: S11

I’ve wanted to talk about this since the show ended and the Spanish dub that broke Tumblr came out. So, when did Dean Winchester fall in love with Castiel?

This is entirely my opinion of course, and I know there are some people that will say it was right away or that it never happened at all, but I wanted to put my thoughts out there so other people could tell me their thoughts, too. I’ll probably get off on some tangents here and there, so feel free to send me any Destiel thoughts you’ve got.

Also, it’s worth noting that, to me, there’s a difference between falling in love and actually being in love. I mean, if you’ve fallen in love with someone, every point in your relationship has been a stepping stone to that point, so I guess it’s all abstract, but still. Hence, S11 being my answer to this question.

Keep in mind I’m doing this without the benefit of a recent rewatch, so I may miss some behaviors from Dean that would change a few things.

Warning: sappy stuff ahead; read at your own risk (also crappy images).

S4-5

I don’t think it’s that big of a secret that Dean attached himself to Cas, like, right away. I mean, the dude never talks about his emotions, and yet, it took eight episodes of Cas being around for Dean to break down in front of him and talk about his fears. It’s almost like you could say that’s because they were always meant to fall for each other.

However, I don’t really the think the process of falling in love with Cas had started yet. I do think that Dean cared about Cas, but I don’t think it was anything extremely special. Reason being: it was the literal end times and Dean didn’t have that type of time. That, and I think there’s something to be said for being raised a certain way and believing certain things about yourself that affects how long it takes for you to notice that something has changed. So, yeah. I don’t think Cas had been around long enough at this point for Dean to start feeling anything more than kinship with him.

That’s not to say, though, that Dean didn’t subconsciously find Cas hot or get the warm fuzzies sometimes because:

I mean, come on.

S6-7

So, this era is weird because I do think something had begun to change in how Dean saw Cas, but I don’t think he got to fully begin the process of falling in love with him because: a.) Cas betrayed them and b.) Sam’s head was broken.

I’m gonna say something rude now: I think a lot of the Destiel moments in the beginning of S6 were born of Dean needing Castiel’s abilities as an angel and not of needing Cas. For example, Dean calling on Cas to help with the Staff of Moses or with Soulless!Sam. He was usually pretty demanding and sometimes curt with Cas and got irritable when Cas couldn’t help.

However, I think that Cas always being there despite his battle in Heaven began to shift Dean’s feelings toward him. I do think this change was almost imperceptible, but you can see Dean showing more and more concern for Cas as S6 progresses. Like this:

This is the primary reason I think Dean got so defensive of Cas when Bobby and Sam started suggesting that Cas was working with Crowley. It’s also why he got so hurt when he found out that Bobby and Sam were right.

Here’s my super abstract and vague take on it: he’d started feeling romantic emotions for Cas, but as soon as Cas’s betrayal was revealed, it got replaced with pain. Basically, Dean almost started to fall for Cas in S6, and then the Purgatory storyline interrupted it.

And then Cas died. Which didn’t help.

Here we enter S7, which has fuck all for Destiel content beyond the first two episodes—until Cas comes back. I know some people are going to say not to gloss over the trench coat thing, and fair enough. I think the keeping of the trench coat was akin to Dean trying to hold onto what he did feel for Cas, obviously not consciously. Almost as though Dean could tell he’d lost something special when Cas died, and not just in losing Cas, but in losing part of himself, a part that he didn’t know existed yet. I don’t consider the trench coat to be a sign that Dean was falling in love with Cas but a sign that he was about to or that he could’ve. Is that weak? Whatever.

Now, I do think that some shit got shaken loose when Dean saw Cas again because, for all intents and purposes, he should’ve been pissed. But instead he was... whatever this is:

I still, more or less, think that he was too preoccupied with Sam to really begin falling in love with Cas. I think that’s clear to see in how he treated Cas after he came back into the story for the final battle with the Leviathan. He did give the whole “I’d rather have you” speech, but all the stuff before that was more along the lines of “Nobody cares that you’re broken, Cas! Clean up your mess!” So, yeah.

S8

Okay, so this is where the Purgatory stuff comes in. In the words of the great John Mulaney, “we don’t have time to unpack all of that,” but this is where I believe Dean started falling in love with Cas.

Dean told Sam that Purgatory felt pure because he could only focus on the fight at all times... but he still had the emotional availability to worry about and search for Cas, so...

If I had to pick an exact moment, I’d say somewhere around here:

And thus, rather than just keeping a trench coat when he lost Cas, Dean literally rewired his own memories because he would rather think that he left Cas behind than think that Castiel chose to leave him.

From here, we can start seeing Dean paying attention to Cas more, noticing when he’s not being himself, and more than that, worrying about him in a more personal way. For instance, when Dean insists that Cas talk to him about what’s bothering him in “Hunteri Heroici.” Not to mention, Dean becomes a lot more emotionally vulnerable regarding his feelings for Cas. One example would be when he insists that he didn’t abandon Cas in Purgatory. Another would be, of course:

I would also mark this season as the season Dean’s prayers to Cas become more emotional and, at times, cathartic, as though he’s confiding in Cas. In “Remember the Titans,” for example, Dean prays to Cas to ask him to look out for Sam; the scene reads like Dean is asking for help but is, in equal measure, asking for Cas. This is also the first season an adversary pokes at Dean and Cas’s relationship in a way that specifically targets Dean and his feelings about Cas rather than Cas’s feelings about Dean as it had been before; this would be when Naomi says “You’re hoping Castiel will return to you.”

S9-S10

Well, these seasons are complicated to say the least because of Gadreel and the Mark of Cain. I don’t think, at this point, Dean ever stops feeling what he’s feeling for Cas. However, I do think that a lot of the hiccups throughout S9 and S10 made Dean step away from those feelings.

Of course, Dean is still stressing about Cas 24/7 in the beginning of S9 what with Cas being human, Cas being hunted, Cas dying, Cas working at a Gas-n-Sip—you know, drama. I think when Gadreel said that Cas needed to stay away if Dean wanted Sam to be healed, Dean had to let what he was feeling for Cas go—not that that means he stopped feeling it, mind you. No, I don’t think Dean consciously went, “Well, guess I’m done falling for this dude,” but I think he knew somewhere in his heart that it wasn’t the time.

Now, the Mark of Cain. The storyline that put the characters down on the page once and left them stagnant and unchanging until it was resolved. Now, as you might imagine, slowly turning into a demon that wants nothing but death would put a damper on any relationship. Finding Destiel in the B season for S9 and throughout S10 is hard. Especially on Dean’s end. 

There are moments when you can tell that Dean’s feelings for Cas are still there, and I would say, developing slowly, like the cheeseburger date. Probably the biggest Destiel moment in the entire Mark of Cain stretch is when Dean nearly kills Cas but resists, despite the Mark’s hold on him.

That’s really it, though. No backwards movement, but barely anything trending the opposite way, either.

S11

This is the Big Season™, the one I believe Dean fell in love with Cas in. Now, obviously, it isn’t like Dean lost the Mark, and boom, fell in love with Cas. Plus, there’s the whole pull-to-Amara thing. However, I don’t think falling in love necessarily has to be a big moment; I think it can just happen, and I think that’s what happened with Dean. At some point between the start of this season and Cas being released from Lucifer’s possession, Dean fell in love with Cas.

That being said—if I was really reaching for a moment—I wouldn’t say it happened during a happy scene. I’d say Dean fell in love with Cas when he lost him.

I know that sounds weird, that Dean didn’t fall in love with Cas completely until he realized Cas had been possessed by Lucifer, but in my head, it fits. I think it’s because Dean is so emotionally closed off and tries not to let his emotions show if he can help it that it took knowing that Cas was gone for that last switch to flip in his heart.

So, now Dean is in love with Cas, but Cas is Lucifer. I’d say this has something to do with the fact that, even though Dean is supposed to be attached to Amara, he still calls out for Cas even though Amara is right in front of him.

Considering the fact that Cas comes back in the literal last episode—at least, that’s when Dean realizes he’s back—there isn’t a whole hell of a lot of time to see how being in love with Cas has changed Dean. We do get the “you’re our brother, Cas” scene, but seeing as how that’s pretty inconsistent with everything that comes afterward, let’s just chalk that one up to bad writing and/or Dean being dense.

S12

Alright, so my post should be done, yeah? I’ve answered the question I’ve set out to answer. However, there’s still more to talk about here. When did Dean first sense that what he felt for Cas was different? When did he have an inclination that it was romantic? When did he know for sure?

That’s why we’re here in S12. Now, S12 is the most Destiel-heavy season in the entire series. In my opinion, while it does have many of the best Destiel scenes, it doesn’t have the best Destiel scene. However, as far as number of moments, S12 takes it.

This is where we really get to see how being in love with Cas has changed Dean. Realistically, I think this has a lot to do with S12 being the beginning of the Dabb era because this era marked a change in tone for both Castiel’s character and his relationship with Dean. Dean began to worry about Cas a lot more frequently and, as a result, got mad at him a lot more, too. I see S12 as the season that Dean moved away from simply being worried about losing Cas to being terrified of losing Cas. And that translated into anger any time Castiel put himself in danger. For example, killing Billie. Any other time, the threat of losing Cas translated itself into fear, like when Cas nearly died from being stabbed with the Lance of Michael.

Of course, the mixtape is also in this season, which is another example of how being in love with Cas has affected Dean. I could probably make an entirely seperate and very long post regarding Destiel in S12, but the general idea is that Dean’s newly found love for Cas made a big difference in how he treated Cas.

S13

Alright, S13 stands outs to me because I believe this is when Dean first realized that Cas meant something more to him than a friend and that he felt differently about him than he did about his family. Again, I don’t think that Dean actually thought those exact words, but I think his heart knew them to be true even if he mind didn’t. Reason being: Cas had just died. Which is the first time Castiel has died since Dean fell in love with him. Dean knew he needed Cas, in a way he hadn’t really realized it before. Which is why he demands that Chuck bring him back.

Then Cas comes back, and it’s like Dean forgets what hopelessness and misery are because Cas is his “big win.” After this, honestly, there isn’t much else by way of emotional development for Dean regarding Cas, but I see that as a good thing. It’s a sign that, though Dean hasn’t realized it yet, being in love with Cas is comfortable for him. There are still expressions of concern for Cas’s wellbeing throughout the season, but mostly, we just get to see Dean be content with Cas.

S14

Alright, S14 a.) mostly saw Dean’s feelings much in the same place as they were in S13 and b.) just kidding because Dean tells Cas that he’s dead to him in this season.

To be fair, if we’re talking Destiel, there’s more of it on Castiel’s end this season than there is on Dean’s because Dean is dealing with Michael. There are a couple moments that stand out to me as moments where Dean’s love for Cas comes through: when Cas asks Dean if his plan to trap himself in the Ma’lak Box means that they’re supposed to say goodbye and when Dean confides in Cas about how he’s handling keeping Michael trapped. In the former scene especially, I think it’s clear to see how much the idea of saying goodbye to Cas affects Dean.

And then we get to “Absence,” which is the episode where Dean tells Cas that he’ll be dead to him if Jack killed Mary. Now, going off on a tangent here to explain how this ties into Dean being in love with Cas, let’s talk about when Dean gets mad at Cas.

When Dean gets mad at Castiel, it’s always out of pain. I think that’s a very unique effect that Cas has on Dean that no one else does, and I believe it’s because Dean gets so overwhelmed with the emotion of betrayal that all he can do is push Cas away. Why a feeling of betrayal? Well, in this case, it’s because Cas knew something was wrong with Jack and didn’t say anything. I think that, as Dean fell more and more in love with Cas, his expectations and feelings for him grew, and because of that, when he feels like he’s been let down by Cas, it turns into rage. 

When Dean walks away from Sam, it’s usually because he’s either worried or angry. With Jack, he walked away because of anger, maybe even disgust. But with Cas, it’s always pain; it’s always because Dean feels like he’s been personally betrayed in a way that has nothing to do with worrying about Cas and everything to do with wanting to hurt Cas back. It’s almost a selfish sort of anger, which is actually a positive for Dean’s character since he rarely puts himself first.

To me, the way Dean gets mad at Cas—especially in S14—is so personal and unique that it serves as proof as to why Dean is in love with Cas. So, even though the “then you’re dead to me” line is so damaging, it’s still a result of Dean loving Cas.

S15

Last season. The hardest season by far, for a lot of reasons. I’m not going to get into the lack of closure the ending of this show gave us in terms of Dean and Castiel, and I’m not going to talk about this final season in conjunction with the Spanish dub—just what I, as an English speaker experienced in canon since that’s what was intended in the final cut—but I will talk about everything else. There’s three episodes/points I’m going to hit with this season, and I’m sure we all know them: “The Rupture,” “The Trap,” and “Despair.”

I’ve already discussed why Dean’s anger points to his being in love with Cas, but I think the important thing to note with “The Rupture” is that Dean still didn’t want to lose Cas, even in the moments when he was hurting Cas and pushing him away.

There’s still a couple questions I’ve asked that I haven’t answered yet, and one of them will be answered with “The Trap.” I think this episode—and really, the moment Cas told him he heard his prayer—marks the first time that Dean considered that his feelings might be romantic. I don’t know how clear those thoughts were or if Dean told himself he was wrong afterward, but I do think that that scene was the beginning of possibility for Dean and Cas. Had they had enough time, they would’ve decided to be together, and that scene is where they both really felt it for the first time—even if they didn’t believe the other felt the same way.

I’ll be honest: I really don’t want to talk about “Despair” because it’ll just make me sad. Alas, there is one question that still needs to be answered: When did Dean know that he was in love with Cas?

When it was already too late. Much like in S11, I think it took Dean losing Cas to realize how he felt about him. The difference here is: I think Dean would’ve realized it regardless; hearing how Cas felt about him and then losing Cas just forced it. Had Cas not died, I don’t believe it would’ve been too long before Dean realized it naturally, and that’s the most frustrating thing about this scene is that Dean didn’t have to learn how he felt through the trauma of losing Cas.

I’m not trying to diminish this scene because, had there been closure—and proper editing—I’d say this scene was the perfect avenue for Castiel’s character to go down because it would mean that, when he came back, he could be with Dean.

Again, I’m not getting into the semantics of the final couple episodes or how they handled Destiel because it’ll just make me mad, but I think Dean realizing he was in love with Cas was just as big of a factor in him seeing himself differently as Cas’s speech was. I think Dean wanted to honor Cas by being the person Castiel saw him as; I think Dean wanted to live as a man worthy of being loved by the man he fell in love with.

Anyway, that’s my take on when Dean Winchester fell in love with Castiel based on what canon gave us. As someone who had been very realistic about the possibility of Destiel over the years and had never truly hoped for it in canon because I knew better, I have never been more convinced that Dean is in love with Castiel as I am now, after the show has ended.

I don’t think I can say I believe he was in love with him all along, but I believe that his story, their story, of falling in love is real and true, however long it may have taken. I’ll never say goodbye to these two, but I’m happy that I can at least walk away from this show knowing that they found each other in the end, even if their ending didn’t do justice to their legacy.

Let me know when you think Dean fell in love Cas or vise versa. I’m curious to know what you see in their relationship. I don’t think I’ll be making a post like this for Castiel because, in my opinion, Cas fell in love with Dean rather quickly—his journey was just realizing what that meant. Anyway, thank you for reading this, and thank you for being a part of this twelve year long love story that is Destiel.

#destiel #casdean #cas x dean #dean x cas #dean winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural

[wri0thesley]

replying to some anons under the cut so i dont spam ur dashes with like 10 asks in a row!

Anonymous said: How can you be so in love I’m jealous (But in all seriousness Its so nice that you’ve found someone that makes you truly happy)

being in love with haz is very easy because she is perfect 

Anonymous said: In my head Tiziano and Squalo have a private mentality about their job so their s/o doest know their team (but, unfortunately, their team knows their s/o) and for that i think it would be funny their reaction if by mere coincidence their s/o meet someone of their team, like imagine that they are coming back from a mission and s/o calls telling them "hi loves, i found one of your friends, he told me he knew you both and looked kind of lost so i brought him back to the apartment" and to their surprise they see s/o feeding cookies to Secco who is very comfy in their couch with s/o. Worst if s/o it's like "he told me to call someone, who it was? cio, oh, Ciocolata, but he lost his phone, do you have his number? also we need more sugar, i kind of use it all in his cookies". The bad part it's that now, Secco likes their s/o in a friendly way, so he keeps coming back for cookies and friendly pets, the good part it's that if Cioccolata gets weird Secco kind of distract him or get defensive of his "new friend".

honestly if your team includes cioccolata and secco would YOU introduce your lovely s/o to your team? i wouldnt either. secco is definitely taking advantage of their s/o’s lovely nature and their skills at baking cookies but at least it’s JUST secco and not cioccolata. YET. 

Anonymous said: Hi i just wanted to tell you that i think you are amazing, very kind and that i love your writting. Also you and Haz are a very cute couple 💕

thank you so much anon!!! ;_; i hope you are having a nice day! <3

Anonymous said: I’m obsessed with the faerie prince gojo au you proposed the other day would love to see more about that

i just fucking LOVE faeries. i think they are so cool and their mythology is so interesting. when i was thinking about that au i was getting back up to date with one of my favourite ongoing internet series, how to survive camping on nosleep on reddit, and they had a plot going with a faerie knight that stirred up my brain (i 100% recommend how to survive camping if you like cool worldbuilding and horror btw it’s SO GOOD). i may very well write a full-length piece for faerie prince gojo or maybe even some other faerie series pieces, but rn i wanna work on my requests and finishing a well-rounded education! after that . . . who knows >:3

Anonymous said: Omg you are a godsend nat, you’ve made me fall so much more in love with tiz and squalo AND sorlato 🥺please don’t ever stop I love your content but also don’t ever feel pressured to write anything you don’t want to (embrace the self-indulgence! :3) ❤️

ahh thank u so much anon! i am always here to spread the word of Sorlato Nonsense. i appreciate it when u guys tell me to be self-indulgent fdbghvnfgn

Anonymous said: Hello! I just wanted to know if you got my ask about Gojo and reader who is usually sweet but decides to "punish" or act out cuz shes annoyed with Gojo?? Alot of my asks have gotten eaten by Tumblr and I just wanted to make sure you got it!! >.< Thank you!

i did anon! <3 honestly tumblr is a barely functioning website but on this occasion we have been blessed by the tumbeasts

Anonymous said: Rehead Formaggio and blue-grey Formaggio feel like two different sides of the same coin but ultimately gove off two completely different vibes and idk how to feel about it (in a good way)

i guess it’s all of the extra red in his colour scheme but redhead formaggio just seems like Slightly More Of A Pal. also more of a thot, i cant believe that david pro said ‘no we will give him a full shirt’ instead of letting him have his weird little cut-out hole grid thing. idk something about manga formaggio just is more appealing to me Visually fgnjkbjngf

Anonymous said: I saw someone asked for your requests of Choso, but what do you have in your inbox for Nanami? 👀

NANAMI REQUESTS: - nanami with a clumsy s/o - jealousy sex n aftercare with a chubby reader - comfort scenario with nanami and a transmasc reader - nsfw scenario that turns into fluff - nanami teasing and edging a fem s/o - gojo and the students arrange a surprise date for mutually pining nanami n reader - poly gojo/nanami relationship hcs - nanami receiving a lapdance from his s/o (but i have reqs for lapdance headcanons in general for jjk men so i might combine them!) - also hc requests that include nanami: confident and headstrong reader who turns out to be shy in bed, gojo and nanami helping crush through a breakup, how they react to s/o getting injured whilst fighting beside them. 

Anonymous said: Ahh Nat thank you for allowing me to scream into your inbox abou jjk! And this is not /really/ a theory but a confusion/rant! You know, since Jogo, Hamani and Dagon (I hope I wrote their names right) got introduced I was confused as to why they aren't older. I thought each of them represent nature/natural disasters and humanity has feared them since the dawn of mankind! Also why did Mahito only recently gain self-awareness if humans have always been horrible to each other? Shouldn't he be v old?

honestly i kind of got the impression that especially hanami was pretty old! afaik mahito’s the only one who’s described as being specifically ‘new’, maybe they’ve just been hanging around waiting for someone like getwo to appear who they think can actually make a difference/combine them!! i think maybe it’s also to do with the ‘rise in power’ that we’ve been hearing lots of talk about in the last few chapters, that there’s just A LOT of cursed energy flying around and it’s making everything happen all at once? humans have always been horrible to each other i think but i wonder if it’s also to do with how much more the earth is populated now and how much easier it is to be horrible and hear about horrible things other humans have done to one another? 

#nat.txt #not sfw text #jjk manga spoilers #jjk posting #jojo postin #poly ship tag

[whimsicalmeerkat]

WIP Ask Game of Shame

@waterme-stories tagged me in this, so even though tumblr confuses and low key frightens me, I decided it would be a good way to procrastinate on work.

NaNoWriMo Leonard Cohen Lyrics Bed Sharing WTFery

Avs Morning After - "giving me head on the unmade bed" (Burakovsky/Grubauer blow job the morning after Der Rumtreiber's Avs gangbang fic)

Black Jewels Lookback - "I loved you, baby, way back when" (Daemon/Lucivar post-canon centuries of pining)

Black Jewels Memory - "if I've got to remember that's a fine memory' (Daemon/Lucivar looking back at some specific moment, hell if I know what it is yet, maybe that canon kiss)

Black Jewels Phantom Touches - “he's touched your perfect body with his mind" (Daemon ties Lucivar down and does dirty things to him without ever actually touching him)

Carter Hart: Oblivious Incubus - “you've been discreet, but there were so many people you just had to meet without your clothes" (Carter is the last person in the NHL to know he's an incubus)

Crosby/Giroux Fake Relationship - “we weren't lovers like that, and besides, it would still be alright" (PR made them pretend to be together, Sid is a dick, Claude proposes in the handshake line, now Sid is ordering rings and picking out invitation font)

Dark Peter - “you told me again you preferred handsome men, but for me you would make an exception" (Spideypool, not much else figured out at this point)

Jarry/Carter Dom/sub Undertones - ''don't go home with your hard-on" (Tristan finds out what Jeff likes and gives it to him)

Nick Suzuki: Cucumber Loving Butt Bad-Toucher - “she lets the river answer that she's always been your lover" (water sprite fic about two players who are essentially children that is reinforcing my dirty old lady status)

TK/Patty Future fic - "I ache in the places where I used to play" (everyone's favorite half a brain cell sharing idiots are just roommates, right?)

Witcher Infidelity - "everybody knows that you've been faithful, give or take a night or two” (Emhyr and Geralt got together right after Geralt broke Emhy's curse)

Witcher Ordered Bed Sharing - “lie beside me, baby, that's an order" (Emhyr tells Geralt they need to share a bed for security reasons because he doesn't understand asking for things)

Woke Up Married - “I can't forget, but I don't remember what". (Crosby/Giroux enemies to lovers woke up married)

Other Fics - Partially posted

Incubus Hertl: “gonna tell my friends to all join in, gonna tell them all to come” (Everyone just wants to help Tomas Hertl. With their dicks.)

Witcher Soulbond: “Joke’s On You” (partially posted entirely unplanned fic where Emhyr and Geralt get married for Reasons)

Black Jewels: “My Tea's Gone Cold” (Daemon fills in for Saetan at a tea shop, Lucivar is the guy from Black Books, they hate each other until they don't)

Other Fics - Planning or at least some thought has occurred

Mat/Lan??? (Wheel of Time coffeeshop AU based solely on Lan calling Mat "farmboy” and my inability to say no to a rarepair - barely more than an idea, but Rand is going to be a total himbo)

Spideypool Bower Birds Nesting (Wade just wants to make things nice for Peter - only vaguely a concept)

When a Weagle Loves a Penguin Very Much (Ovechkin/Malkin - sequel to “I’ve Been Waiting on Those Words” that will likely never happen)

Abandoned

Regency Beard Dads (Joe Thornton and Brent Burns fall in love in a Regency period that is homophobia-free - Abandoned)

I’m gonna tag @thisdamnwasteland, because without her I wouldn’t be writing at all, and she has contributed to pretty much everything I have ever written, even if it’s just listening to me ramble.

Also gonna tag @cuteasamuntin @thatvixenchick and @ansimplegoose who I know from discord, even though there’s very little Spideypool content here. Feel free to ask about any of this as desired.

#I don’t understand this site #am writing #wip ask game of shame

[morningflames]

a word of warning

well here’s a post i never thought i’d be making

it’s come to my attention that a Certain Someone is planning on making a comeback to WrA soon and it fills me with nothing short of dread. i spent the day yesterday warning people he terrorized and manipulated that this was happening. you know it’s bad when there’s a literal network of people who share an abuser that have remained in contact for years in the event this happened again.

i am not going to lie and say that making this post does not terrify me but i cannot in good conscience sit back and let him worm his way into the rp scene again and do what he did to me and at least half a dozen others all over again.

to summarize: tarcanus aka tarcanus frostborne is a manipulative, emotionally abusive and predatory individual that should be avoided at all costs.

i am the player behind lyrinel, a former officer of his and someone who was on the receiving end of nearly a years worth of abuse and manipulation. my experiences pale in comparison to those of others who dealt with him and came forward to me after i left his guild, and i cannot speak for anyone who does not feel comfortable coming forward. if you do want to let your voice be heard, feel free to reblog and add your own anecdotes.

my story below the cut.

tw: manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, coercion, grooming

i first joined coram populo in early 2014 after my best friend and fellow survivor (i will refer to her by her character’s name of thradia from here on out) joined the raid team in december of the previous year. we were both just looking for a social place to park our characters and maybe start role playing again, as we hadn’t had a guild or dedicated rp group in a while. things were fine and friendly for the first couple of months, though it’s worth noting that a large part of the office corps had just left or was in the process of leaving when thradia and i joined. we were both 18 at the time.

i made the mistake of reaching out to tarc in the spring, when i noticed him posting to his tumblr about how busy he was. i offered to be an IC assistant of sorts to his character and he was more than happy to toss me into an absolute whirlwind. we still didn’t know much about each other, but in the span of a couple weeks we went from casual contact in guild chat to immensely long (sometimes between 10 and 12 hours) skype calls, constant DMing, and an almost uninterrupted stream of conversation. i was struggling to finish high school at this time (spoiler: i failed to graduate) and found myself suddenly caught in an all-consuming relationship with this man and his guild. from the moment i woke up to the moment i finally hung up and crawled into bed, my time was taken up by tarc and the guild and the game.

i was promoted to officer less than five months after joining the guild. this was overwhelming for a number of reasons, chief among them being the fact that i had never been an officer in a guild like this before and i was very quickly escalated to tarc’s “inner circle.” this was a circle that he evidently didn’t even include his most senior officers in, as he didn’t seem to communicate with them to the extent or abundance that he did with me - and later, when she was ALSO promoted to officer, thradia. 

within a few weeks i found myself at the center of dozens of micro-confrontations and venting from tarc about other members of the guild, raid team, and even fellow officers. every time, i would tell him he needed to take it to his co-gm and talk it through with her. she, like him, was a grown woman with a lot more experience and better people skills than me, a teenager barely out of high school, but tarc insisted on beating me over the head with his frustrations and then proceeding to guilt me and tell me i was a terrible friend when i didn’t agree with him or expressed i was uncomfortable being in the center of a vent session that i felt was unwarranted. 

tarc was never wrong. he did not apologize. the words “i’m sorry” did not exist in his vocabulary, and if they did, they were almost always followed up with the word “but.” constantly he would be sending multiple messages to me or thradia while we were running events and raids for the guild, ranting about a few particular members that he disliked at the time regardless of how we felt about said members. thradia and i would both be reduced to tears and/or anxiety attacks by his outbursts that all but demanded we take his side even if we didn’t. his feelings and circumstances were paramount. everyone else’s were just inconveniences. 

tarc was always the victim. no matter what was going on, no matter who had instigated whatever vein of conversation we were on that had gone awry, he had a way of making you feel like utter shit until you grovelled for his forgiveness, which he rarely gave. instead he would move on without giving any closure or allowing you to discuss your feelings at length. if you tried, you were the insensitive one who he couldn’t go to with his “unfiltered emotions,” which was the entire purpose of his inner circle to hear him say it. i was not allowed to just be his friend or just be an officer, i had to be both and neither at the same time, and it still was not the right course of action. nothing ever was.

tarc was openly manipulative and antagonistic, always citing it as an “inside joke” when called on it. i opened up to him once about my father’s alcoholism and how i was uncomfortable with alcohol culture and being around drunk people. regardless, he would constantly call while drunk (or maybe he was pretending to be to get a rise out of me, i honestly do not know what was genuine and what was put on with him) and make me stay on the call with him for hours. when he was (allegedly) diagnosed with an inability to process certain alcohols that could be life threatening, he continued to drink (or claimed he was drinking) dangerous amounts, which lead to me begging him to stop as i feared for his life. one of the worst anxiety attacks i have ever had was over him endangering his health and me believing i was going to see a friend die. he knew how much this upset me and he did not stop. he held me as a captive audience to his self destruction (or the playacting of it) and let me cry and beg and plead with him to take care of himself.

tarc loves to promote a clean, “family friendly” persona online. he will go on and on about the positive atmosphere his guild provides and how progress and accepting he and his “safe spaces” are. as soon as you are inducted to his inner circle, however, you learn otherwise. he will gladly engage in sexually charged conversation with you, even if you are ten years younger than him as thradia and i were. we were both legal adults, yes, but just barely. i can’t count the inappropriate remarks and jokes made about us, our friends, and even minors all in the spirit of joking “what if” conversation. he has a history of making young LGBT+ people uncomfortable, making their sexualities and identities about him and how he can relate to them. 

tarc was the most two-faced and divisive guild leader i’ve ever seen. he would rant to me mercilessly about wanting to kick one of the junior officers and raid team members in private while never saying a word to their face or bringing it up with the co-gm. he would start schisms between people, telling each what they wanted to hear and encouraging both parties not to confront each other about it, allowing the resentment and distrust to grow as he fanned the flames on both sides. he wanted people to stay in the guild and continue to basically work for him while also putting him above anyone else in their friend circles. he told straight up lies to thradia and i, claiming one of us had said things about the other that we never did, driving a wedge and distrust between us.

tarc treats his guild(s) like a business. he is entirely capitalist-minded even in an MMORPG that people play for fun, churning out “content” and keeping up appearances like a machine. he treats his officers and guild members like employees, not people. any time irl would demand attention away from the game, forcing someone to miss or cancel an event, he would subtly guilt them about it until they apologized, even if it was a dire situation or a family emergency. 

when tarc wanted to start a wow roleplaying podcast, he approached me about cohosting. he wanted a female voice, and since i was out of school and had no job lined up due to not graduating i was the perfect candidate. i came on to narrate and research the lore segment of the looking for roleplay podcast, which was little more than me paraphrasing a wowwiki article, but i was held to a “professional” standard. i had to have my research done by a certain day, my recording done in advance, etc. 

the podcast was a spot of contention for several reasons, one being the mysterious emails tarc would allegedly receive about it. the podcast had a shared email account that all three of us could access and look at, but tarc claimed that people sent emails directly to him since “everything’s under his email.” he would use these strawman emails as indirect criticism of turwinkle and i, reading them aloud or typing up what they supposedly said but NEVER producing a real screenshot or address to verify them. i’m convinced he only did this as a way to make turwinkle and i feel badly and work harder “for the listeners” to appease things tarc didn’t like about our segments. he also insinuated he got inappropriate emails about me specifically at this account but, again, i was never allowed to see them with my own eyes, just hear about them secondhand, which is why i believe they did not exist.

around this time, tarc began recording conversations without mine or thradias consent. he would start recording random sections of calls and taunt us, playing back out-of-context lines and joking that he would make “podcast commercials” out of them. they were often embarrassing, personal, or just wildly out of context lines that we didn’t want played to the public, and i heard only a fraction of what he possibly recorded of me. i have no idea what kind of material he has of me and thradia that was recorded without us knowing or consenting. it felt like blackmail. it still does.

i internalized all of this. i thought this was normal. i thought he was an excellent guild leader and a role model for leadership. i had begun to treat world of fucking warcraft like a goddamn job and i thought that was fine. my life revolved around coddling and entertaining him, socializing and promoting and recruiting for the guild, raiding, running pvp entirely on my own, keeping up IC connections and attending events, recording for the podcast, all of it. i ate, breathed, and slept wow and coram. it was insane. i had been talked into having no boundaries for myself and my time, and any time i tried to correct that and build a boundary i was attacked for it until i backed down. i have never felt worse about myself than i did while i was in this guild. i trusted no one. i was worn thin.

i finally had enough early 2015. at this point this man was trying to get me to come live with him hundreds of miles from my family so that i could attend a technical school in his area. i am still 18. he was 28. i had been trying to step down from my position as an officer, citing if i was going to be LIVING WITH HIM that it was going to give me an unfair bias in my standing in the guild. this set him all the way off. he was planning a trip to atlantic city for me, himself, and thradia, who i had a ticket to visit for my birthday. he was getting frantic because he had been pursuing thradia for months, and i was no longer cooperating. 

when i threw this wrench in everything, our relationship devolved in the span of a few hours. within the day i left the guild on all of my characters and pulled myself out of all of his projects. within the month i had frantically faction changed several characters and eventually unsubscribed from the game for two years because i lived in fear of him. he had always alluded to “knowing people” who could hack and track IP addresses and kept tabs on everyone who visited his blogs and websites. i didn’t know what i thought he was going to do - all i knew was his thinly veiled brags and threats were at the forefront of my mind. i have played this game since 2006, but for the first time in my life i couldn’t enjoy it out of fear and exhaustion caused by him. he had ruined my favorite game in less than a year and made me paranoid about my entire online presence, to the point where this blog was abandoned for months before i turned it into what it is today. 

and the thing is, tarc’s not a creepy or abrasive guy when you first meet him. he’s funny and charismatic and outgoing. he loves to tell you about his world travels and show you pictures of him petting baby tigers at rescues in southeast asia and go on about these crazy winnings he would have in vegas. he’s larger than life - at least online. he came to visit me twice in the year that we knew each other. the first time was also the first time i had ever met thradia in person, and we had been friends for six years at that point. he has met my family, and that of several other members (both my age and older). no one ever questions why he’s there. no one ever thought it was odd that for a week he hung out with three teenage girls exclusively. 

this horrifies me to this day. 

thradia and i are still best friends. we compared notes and were sickened at how we were played against each other. slowly, i returned to the game. i reached out to people who had left or been on their way out when i first joined the guild, curious to see if there was a common thread. there was. everyone i spoke with had similar stories: being made to feel like shit, nothing they ever did for the guild was enough, they weren’t allowed to miss events or raids no matter what the reason, they were questioned and joked about inappropriately and made to feel uncomfortable and preyed upon, etc. i was not the only one. thradia was not the only one. at least half a dozen other former members and/or officers had these stories, and tarc just kept getting away with it.

he cannot keep getting away with it.

i am being open with this for the first time in six years because i don’t want to see it happen again. because i don’t want to know that, had i said something sooner, more people could have been protected. i was 18 when this was going on. i had no real world experience. i had no standard for how i should be treated, much less by someone almost ten years my senior and who claimed to be my friend. but he knew better. he should have had boundaries and space and lines he refused to cross. he did not. he crippled my trust in people for a very long time. i have only become comfortable playing wow on horde side again in the past year or so. i finally stopped looking over my shoulder, /who’ing him and his guild, avoiding rp hubs. but now i feel like i can’t do that anymore. the safety i have worked so hard to achieve for myself is now threatened.

i understand my experiences are mild in comparison to what some offenders on this server have done. but at the end of the day, this year was the worst year of my life. to this day, the skype ringtone literally triggers me because i associated it with him and his endless calls that i never knew what to expect from or how to get out of. i can’t look at certain parts of the game without feeling fear. for months i held my breath going online or logging into wow because i was waiting for him to pop up and start accusing me of things or trying to guilt me into coming back.

tarc ran coram populo, a guild that, as far as i know, still staggers along with a few members who can’t be bothered to leave. whether or not he’s planning to return there, i don’t know. he organizes and runs (from what i can tell) the azerothian trade federation (whatever the fuck that is). i don’t know what his plans are. i don’t know what his online presence looks or will look like when he comes crawling back. but i beseech you, do not give him the time of day. do not give him a platform, no matter how nice and “woke” he makes himself out to be. he lures you in with humanist ideals and then sucks the absolute life out of you- and that’s if he doesn’t want to pressure you into a relationship on top of it.

to tarc: if somehow you’re reading this, stay away from me. keep my name out of your mouth. i do not want an apology and a string of half-assed, gaslighting excuses. i have records of past conversations. i have screenshots. i know what you fucking did to me and to my friends. i do not want you back. i do not want you here. i do not want to share space with you. i want you to go away and never come back. 

you alone made it so hard to trust myself and other people. thradia and i both have had to seek therapy due to you. and now, you have the audacity to come riding back into the scene on a white horse, being self righteous about abuse and predatory behavior online, and have the utter gall to condemn behaviors you yourself emulated without apology or second thought. i know you think you’re a good guy. that’s what makes you so fucking dangerous. you genuinely don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, and if you do, you’ve buried it and squirreled it away and have covered it up to the point where you can turn any accusation back on the claimant. 

do not attempt to contact me. do not try to threaten or appease me. go back where you were. i am finally at home again, and you will not take that from me. go. away.

#wrymrest accord #wra rp #wra community #okay to reblog #i am going to basically go dark on here now and not check on this #i have gotten ohysically ill from dredging this shit up #i will not be engaging past this point so whether you believe me or not i do not care #i know my truth and i know what happened to me even though i was gaslit to hell and back

[letsfluxshitup]

FLUX YOU MAD LAD YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!!! THE MARRIAGE CRACKFIC HYPE IS REAL AND THE REALITY DOES NOT DISAPPOINT!! i rly wanted 2 send u an ask as soon as I got the ao3 email but i held myself 2gether and actually read the current content like a Normal Person so!! This’ll be disjointed and incomprehensible but we’re both up at midnight right now so </3

Okay. Right. First of all: I love how comfortable ur writing is!! Like I know I’ve commented on it before but Techno n Quackity are just Very Comfortable with one another and there’s no stilted sort of ‘oh but it’s platonic’ clarification needed! They just genuinely feel safe in one anothers presence and that is wonderful <333

Also,, the description and use of the ‘mutually unrequited’ tag is ENDLESSLY amusing 2 me like yes,,, that’s so them,,, how did I not connect the dots before. Ur literally a genius

I love Mr. Quacks :]] his indignant protectiveness of Quackity that Big Q barely seems to notice? Him quickly registering Techno as a safe person bc of Quackity’s concern for him? Wilbur having issues with A Literal Chicken, Somehow? Mr. Quacks is my new favourite character in the Dream SMP sorry kings that really is how the cookie crumbles

I’m very satisfied by the fact that u let Quackity talk a little bit abt his issues with Schlatt!! And the way you write dialogue is so natural?? Like, Quackity doesn’t rly convey his specific issue super well bc he’s never been great at the whole feelings deal, but it’s super clear he’s trying to get across the emotional manipulation (even if Q doesn’t rly recognize it like that) and Schlatt’s obvious abuse of power over Quackity as his president AND husband. Very proud of him for his efforts :,] and Techno’s automatic response being to just go murder the man? Like YES KING LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO

I don’t know how you manage to do it but you make me more invested in their friendship w/ each thing you write :,]] Quackity’s very easygoing demeanour and active expression of affection through physical gestures and pet names pairs v well with Techno’s more stoic personality that gives way to casual shows of affection and fierce protectiveness of the people he cares about?? Your characterization is literally just a dopamine factory I will never get over how good you are at dynamics aasndmdkfkd

Also I love how ur including more SBI dynamics!! Your Wilbur is friendly but still like. Vaguely Unhinged and I appreciate that you didn’t completely get rid of his Issues(tm) in favour of the family dynamic. You woke up 2day and gave us both! As a treat. And I really love how you write Tommy as a whole :] he’s a bit of a brat and the teenage vibes are ever so present but you do kind of want to give him a hug anyways. I love and care them,,,,

You’ve sparked my thoughts abt your various quacknoblade AUs again!! And also dormant thoughts abt the TMA quacknobros AU I thought briefly abt where Techno was Jon n Quackity was Martin,,,,, honestly ur ability to create brainrot is insane ily king

- Saturn 🪐

OH SATURN I GENUINELY BLEW KISSES AT MY PHONE WHEN I REALIZED THIS WAS FROM YOU. you have such a distinct way of sending asks that I knew it was you right away actually it's really funny amksmdmdkdkd ilysm

Also WOW CALLED OUT YEAH ITS MIDNIGHT YEAH WE'RE FEELING INCOHERENT ❤️

ALSO THANK YOU;;; I channel my aromantic energy into my fics by just not registering things as romantic in the slightest ❤️ I am unstoppable ❤️

Ok wait it's kinda funny bc I feel like at a time I was like "gotta make sure everyone knows this is platonic" but now I've reached this point where I'm just "if you don't get it that's on you" KSKSKSKSKDKKDF

YES THE MUTUALLY UNREQUITED TAG;;; I saw a post abt it on Tumblr, I think I tagged it as #marriage crackfic bc that's literally what it is listen;;; it fits so fucking well oh my God

YEAH YEAH MR QUACKS IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME. I was a bit stuck on writing for a while and then iwnas like "wait what if quackity befriends that chicken from the creepcident" and now we're here skskmdmdmdmfk

ALSO YEAH WILBUR AND MR QUACKS S RELATIONSHIP IS V IMPORTANT TO ME

I'm really really glad you like the dialogue abt schlatt. Tbh I think that's like, one of the oldest parts of the fic. I've been writing it on and off for a while now and that was one of the first things I wrote, and I still absolutely adore how it came out. Idk! That bit of dialogue just came out fucking Perfectly for me and I'm still very :]]]]!!!! About it and I'm delighted you like it too!!!!

ALSO YES TECHNO MURDER POG <3

EVERYTIME YOU COMPLIMENT MY DYNAMICS I WEEP;;; I'm just very into characters who are Very Different getting along super well ok. im super duper in love with big stoic and chaotic small and that dynamic lives in my head rent free so you KNOW I gotta write about it as much as possible

YEAAAH THAT BIT WITH THE SBI BOYS WAS A JOY TO WRITE I REALLY REALLY LIKE IT A LOT;;; also yes! Wilbur gets to be unhinged <3 as a treat! AND YES FERAL TOMMY IS SO GOOD. HE IS A TEENAGER AND HE IS READY TO THROW HANDS CONSTANTLY. I imagine rough housing is a very popular way to show affection in the sbi household and tbh I'm a bit feral as well. projecting on to tommy by making him wrestle with techno. KAKAKKSKDKDKF

Ilysm your asks are always such a treat to read I'm very :>>> rn!!!

Also idk anything about TMA but I am looking intently!!! Share your infinite wisdom!!!

#saturn anon #<3

[sweetlittlevampire]

Rima’s Wangxian Fic Rec

So I’ve compiled these specifically for @inessencedevided , but hey, we’re all here to spread the love, so please, share and reshare to your heart’s content! :D

I’ll start with “Personal Favourites” - there are many more that I would consider a Personal Favourite, but I’ve picked those specifically because I thought you’d enjoy them. AU fics will also be included, because there are some real gems out there, and some still take place in canon universe, but with a twist, so...yeah.

Main pairing is Wangxian; I somehow don’t tend to read much else. ^^;

This thing is going to be loooong, so please find everything under the Read More. And feel free to let me know if a link doesn’t work so I can fix it.

Personal Favourites

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Length:  68713 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s summary: “Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.”

A case fic! And one of my personal all-time favourites as well! It is so well-crafted, with an engaging and captivating plot, a TON of OCs who actually do contribute to the story, and a few scenes that are so beautiful I could weep. Got hyped up on twitter, and rightfully so. It’s a delight to read.

Rabbit Heart by  Suaine

Rating: Mature

Warning: N/A

Length:   56590 words in total

Chapters: 6

Status: Completed

Author’s summary: “ Wei Wuxian walks his lonely road, but he’s not going to leave Lan Wangji entirely alone. That would be boring. “

Another case fic! Set after the show’s ending, Wei Wuxian goes his way, but leaves the paper man behind to keep Lan Wangji company. I loved this one to pieces - it has intriguing subplots and will make your heart melt several times.

Those are actually thonly two case fics I’ve read so far, but for more, be sure to visit @wangxianfics ‘s Case Fic section. It has many more, and I am planning on reading several of them.

the earth remembered me by  remux

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:  30321  words so far

Chapters: 2 out of scheduled 4

Status: Ongoing

Author’s Summary: “All around him, summer throbs like a heartbeat, undeniably alive. Wounds begin to heal. And Wei Wuxian, with sweat on his brow, feels ripe. Wei Wuxian, with his hands deep in the soil and mud between his toes, remembers something simple and primitive and utterly transformative: It feels good to make things grow. OR: Wei Wuxian’s travel guide to finding your place in the world.”

This fic changed me. Like, literally. It’s still ongoing, but I don’t even care. It’s not a case fic, but I’m 100% sure you’ll love it. It’s pure poetry and catharsis, and it hurts so much, but it’s so necessary. I think I cried several times while reading each of the chapters, and I’m eagerly but patiently awaiting the next one. It follows Wei Wuxian’s journey after he leaves the Cloud Recesses in episode 50 and tells the story of what he does and experiences before he returns back to Lan Wangji. So it’s absically only Wei Wuxian, Lil’ Apple, and the people they meet along his way.

Begotten by  ecorie

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   37279  words

Chapters: 6

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “He’s mine.” He echoed what had once been teasingly said in jest, and added, “This is my son.” Against all odds and without a choice, Lan Zhan brings A-Yuan back to Cloud Recesses. Xichen keeps his brother’s secrets, and shields the child when Lan Zhan could not.“

Also known as: Filling in the blanks with everything that happened in those 13 years. I loved this one. Wangji = Best Dad, Sizhui = Best Son.

Canon Universe

(not necessarily canon compliant though)

the soft animal by  cafecliche

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   5046  words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “You don’t think that’s strange?” he says. His voice, his new voice, is familiar now. But sometimes it almost startles him, hearing it come from his mouth. “It’s been nine months. I’ve used them almost every day. I should know how long these legs are.” (Or: Wei Wuxian has a plan to train Mo Xuanyu’s body. The results aren’t quite what he expects.)“

A very interesting take on Wei Wuxian, and how he comes to terms with his new body. Something I had not seen previously explored, and I really loved how the author handled it.

Come let me love you (Come love me again) by  obsessivereader

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:  9105   words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “The notes from the dizi cut off as Wei Ying goes absolutely still. Over the quiet whisper of the wind through grass, Lan Wangji can hear the rapid beat of his own heart. Wei Ying's hands drop to his side slowly, so slowly, as though time has slowed down for both of them. He turns, a look almost of fear on his face. And then...And then, Wei Ying smiles—slow and beautiful and warm and relieved as though Lan Wangji standing before him is a treasured dream fulfilled. "Lan Zhan," he breathes.“

A “What happens after the end of the last episode?”-fic. I’m kind of a sucker for those. This one is very sweet and tender; I absolutely loved the interactions between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and the gentleness of it all. I also adore the song it’s been titled after (”Annie’s Song” by John Denver, if you’re curious).

Death of a Ghost by  Gotcocomilk

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Length:   107397 words in total

Chapters: 30

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “There was a ghost that haunted the decks of Lotus Pier, it was said. If you stepped across the wooden planks at night, walked along the endless docks and flying purple banners, he would appear. He was always in darkest black, dressed as specter and shadow. In the emptiness where a face should be was a thick fog, features washed away and leaving behind only glimmering red eyes. He looked ferocious as a ghoul, it was said. Jin Ling thought he looked sad.“

Full disclosure - I am five chapters into this thing, and I am already recommending it, I am that intrigued. There is some serious Yunmeng Bros stuff in there which I think you are going to love, and the interactions between said ghost and Jin Ling are - aaaah! Cannot wait to continue!

wrap your name tight around my ribs by  sasukepositive

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   8728 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “ In true Wei Ying fashion, his return comes with a dose of mischief. “

Another “What happens after the end of the last episode?”-fic, with a good dose of Wangxian family feels. In fact. the whole thing is a huge chunk of feels. A very soft, delicate, and sweet fic, which will leave you feeling warm and fuzzy.

please linger by  sasukepositive

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   5636 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “ When A-Yuan begins crying, Lan Wangji knows it makes sense. He understands that crying will not harm him — he logically knows that. However, A-Yuan’s little face turns red so quickly that it leaves Lan Wangji a little panicked.“Ah,” he begins helplessly, stepping forward in an attempt at — something. He doesn’t know what. “It’s okay.” or: sometimes the man you love assures you that his mysteriously acquired child will nap until he gets back from shopping. for sure. “

If you liked the Dad Date Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian had with A-Yuan in Yiling, then you’ll love this one. It’s a fill-the-gaps fic in which Lan Wangji returns to Yiling several times to see Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan. Still follows canon events though, hence the bittersweet ending, but it is still so so lovely.

I hope that you will come and meet me by  feyburner

Rating: Mature

Warning: N/A

Length:   28385 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “ The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did. “

Another one of tehse post-show-canon fics. I love everything feyburner writes, and this was the first fic of theirs I came across. I love the feeloings described in it, and just how sweet it is. One of those fics in which the way the mature part is executed just makes the whole thing even sweeter.

Alternate Universe

(but sometimes within the canon universe?)

Merman Lan Wangji!AU by  FleetofShippyShips ( @fleetofshippyships here on tumblr)

- which is a series of connected fics, and not one long fic with chapters, hence why the formatting is different here. 5 entries so far; ungoing. Teen And Up Audiences

...which is definetely a personal favourite of mine, - you might have noticed, since I’ve been drawing a ton for this particular AU. But since I don’t know if yu’re into merfolk!AUs I didn’t list it up there with the personal favourites.

It is following canon so far, only that Lan Wangji is, as the title suggests, a merman - with secrets.

I adore the atmosphere of this series so much, and the way Zoe writes it is just so beautiful. It’s a story in which I could live, and if you’re in for the ride, I can assure you that there will be many surprises to come.

Welcome to Gusu  by  perkynurples ( @bilboo here on tumblr)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   30853 words so far

Chapters: 5 so far

Status: Ongoing

Author’s Summary: “ Deep in the lush forests of Gusu hides an aging resort that hosts dozens of children every summer for an unforgettable couple of weeks. It’s where Lan Wangji grew up alongside Wei Wuxian, and when his childhood friend (for the lack of a better term) surprisingly returns years later in the position of Senior Counsellor, seemingly hell bent on causing the same kind of mischief that got him kicked out of Gusu in the first place, but also taller, broader and tanner than ever before, Lan Wangji knows he’s In Trouble. Or, this fic has it all: longing looks over campfires, found family dynamics, ill-timed skinny dipping, teenagers inappropriately shipping their counsellors, LAKE MONSTERS “

Annie wasn’t lying when she said this fic has it all. What started as some kind of crack fic turned into something beautiful that completely owns my heart.  The interactions between the characters are so heartwarming, and while I sense that some major drama is going to occur soon, I also know that this will eventually have a happy ending. It’s delightful, and it does belong to my personal favourites as well.

Some of You by  tangerinechar

Rating: Mature

Warning: N/A

Length:   60640 words

Chapters: 7

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Lan Wangji gets drunk and tweets a love confession, Wei Wuxian panics, and all of twitter decides to matchmake Lan Wangji and his mystery guy. “

A social media fic! And a hilarious one at that! If you’re in the mood for an extra panicky, extra obnoxious Wei Wuxian? This is the fic for you. It has one of the sweetest love confessions ever. There’s some background Xicheng too.

Window Shopping by  thunderwear

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Length:   18000 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Lan Wangji didn't look out across the other apartment building often, but now, as he scooped up his escaped rabbit, he looked over only to see a piece of paper taped to the window of the apartment across from him. It was written on purple construction paper in big block letters, like a child had written it. WHAT'S YOUR BUNNY'S NAME???“

I did already rec this one to you, but WHO CARES? A Quarantine fic! The first one I came across, and I loved it! A friend of mine thought Wei Wuxian was OOC, but I disagree - he didn’t exactly grow up in the same circumstances as in canon, and his life situation isn’t 100% the same, so I still think it fits. A-Yuan makes an appearance, and the interactions between Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and the boy are just so very cute!

Home is Where the Heart is by  Alipeeps ( @alipeeps here on tumblr)

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:  10036 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Wei Ying’s expression is tight and unhappy, his entire body held rigidly away from Lan Zhan.He doesn’t look at Lan Zhan as he says, “You don’t have to worry, Lan Zhan, I’m never going to touch you.”The distaste in Wei Ying’s voice makes Lan Zhan’s blood run cold.“Just because our families have arranged this marriage, we don’t have to be together… like that…” Wei Ying’s mouth twists unpleasantly. “It can be a marriage in name only. A...” he swallows, looking like he might be sick, “...a business arrangement.”

Arranged Marriage AUs are also one of my weaknesses, especially if the two soon-to-be-married people are actually in love with each other but have yet to confess, This one does the trick. It’s modern era with no cultivation, and the mutual pining is REAL in this one.

what else is there? by  mme_anxious

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   12917 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Did you hear the terrible news? Yiling Laozu Wei Wuxian has gone beyond the pale! He has murdered Hanguang-Jun!”This is the first thing the swan hears flying over Yiling, and it sets him to hissing. It’s the kind of sound he would never make as a human, but as a swan—a mute swan— hissing is the only form of communication available to Lan Wangji. So he hisses. -Jin Guangyao transforms Lan Wangji into a swan. Only an act of love will break the curse.”

A fairytale!AU based on Swan Lake. You might have seen my Swangji drawing; this is the fic it was drawn for. It takes place in canon universe and is super lovely and magical. I may have cried a bit.

all your life you’ll dream of this by  Attila ( @attilarrific here on tumblr)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:  22668 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Lan Wangji should refuse. He should. He looks back down at the mask. Beneath it is the soft creamy paper of the invitation. He could present this at the door and slip into the palace and—“Go see him, Wangji,” Lan Xichen says quietly, and Lan Wangji feels his resolve crumble beneath him”

Another fairytale!AU - this time, it’s loosely based on Cinderella, with Lan Wangji as Cinderella and the forehead ribbon as glass slipper. Such a lovely lovely fic. May also have cried a bit; it’s heartfelt and magical and so warm and sweet.

Love wakes me by  dea_liberty

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Length:   42812 words in total

Chapters: 4

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: "It starts with a bet. All mistakes, Wei Wuxian thinks, start with a bet. It’s starts with a bet and ends with Wei Wuxian losing everything. Nine years ago, Wei Wuxian made a bet with disastrous consequences. Now, he is part-owner of the popular and eclectic Yiling Cafe, years and miles away from his old life, making the best of things and trying to leave the past where it belongs. When Lan Wangji walks into his cafe by accident, Wei Wuxian finds himself doing what he thought he'd never do again; reclaiming some small part of his past, and hoping for a future he'd given up as lost.”

If someone had told me that I would fall head over heels in love with a Coffee Shop AU, of all things? I would have laughed...yet here we are. I’ve read this thing in one sitting and cannot stop thinking about it. I absolutely have to reread it; it’s slowly but surely becoming one of my personal favourites.

#Wangxian #Fic Red #The Untamed #MDZS #CQL

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

Loving Stupid - Chapter One: Sanctuary [Fallout 4 Fanfiction]

HELLOOO Tumblr! Now that I’ve got this blog up and running, I wanted to do what I could to expand the exposure of my fic and get it around to new readers. While it’s already up on Fanfiction.net , it seems to me that the majority of the community prefers Ao3 or reading directly here on Tumblr. So, I figure why not post it over here as well? 

Though a heads up that this first chapter was first written entirely for personal enjoyment, and then a friend I showed it to encouraged me to expand upon the story cause they wanted to see more of the ship. XD It’s uh... lil spicy. Or lemony, depending on how old you are and how far back your fic vocab goes.

Story Title: Loving Stupid

Story Summary: Paige [Sole Survivor] and Hancock venture into the Glowing Sea in pursuit of a lead on the Institute, when a catastrophic equipment failure forces them to separate. 

Rating: MATURE

Content Warnings for this Chapter: Sexual content, drugs, alcohol, cursing

Content Warnings for story overall: Sexual content, drugs, alcohol, cursing, violence, blood, injury, needles, limb mutilation

Genre: .... erotic romance-adventure? IDK shit goes down and there’s some spicy scenes, but also a lot of character building and relationship stuff. I’m bad at genre assessment. Open to suggestions XD

.:_Sanctuary_:.

“So these are your digs, huh? … can't say it's my speed.”

“Not historical enough?”

“Nah, it's...”

Paige watched Hancock's face twist as he struggled to pick out what word fit his distaste, ghoulish features creating sharp valleys along fault lines in leathery skin while the shiny dark of his eyes appraised the home she'd built atop one of the empty foundations of Sanctuary Hills.

It wasn't anything special, wooden planks coaxed together into floors, walls, and roofing with nails and elbow grease. This was the only settlement where Paige had a place that was specifically hers, where she kept the little knickknacks and oddities she collected; all dutifully looked after by Codsworth-- ever dedicated to his task two centuries after it had been assigned to him. She'd given some life to the wooden bones of the shack, however; recycled fabrics became rugs and curtains with only mildly clashing patterns, and she even managed to cobble a number of worn out flannel shirts into a workable set of sheets for a double-wide bed that was, in truth, just a pair of smaller mattresses pushed together to pretend they were a queen size.

What could she say? She liked to sprawl.

Generators lit up Sanctuary at night with bare bulbs, and her little shack was no different. It brought yellow light against the dark, and reflected off a multitude of glass bottles, lined up on the shelves of a bureau she'd rescued, mostly intact, from the home of a long-dead neighbor. Whiskey, vodka, wine-- she jokingly called it her liqueur cabinet, despite the thing not having doors to lock the alcohol behind.

She'd done her best to make this a where place she could sleep soundly, when she was in the area. It was little more than a bed, a roof, and a lot of junk on shelves; insulated from the outside world with some sewn-together fabric scraps... but stepping over the threshold always made her feel like she'd entered a sort of... bubble. Not safe-- nowhere was safe-- but... quiet.

She could pretend, here.

“Comfortable.” Hancock decided, grousing out the word. “Damn near cozy-- you put this together?”

“With my own two hands.” She informed him; trust Hancock to find an issue with comfort-- then again, she couldn't blame him. Comfortable people had a habit of being complacent people, and they both knew that was where a lot of ugliness could happen... but his opinion didn't stop her from stepping inside and divesting herself of the pieced together armor that she layered over a set of somewhat over-sized army fatigues, reclaimed after clearing an old base of ferals. There was a wooden bin by the door for that stuff; she'd have to strap it all back on in the morning... but for now she was grateful to take a load off, starting with an enameled metal helmet.

“I've watched those hands beat faces to a bloody pulp. I didn't figure they could sew.”

She scoffed at him, rolling her eyes as she heard him trudge inside anyhow, metal door closing behind him, and set herself to the straps that kept her secured within the bits of metal and leather that frequently kept her alive on the road. Left arm first, a metal shoulder piece coming loose, and the whole ritual making her feel as if she were shedding skin.

She didn't tell him that she might have been a housewife a few centuries ago-- that was a different life. The idea that someone could live so cushy as to devote themselves to home-making and nothing else was a fever dream in this age, and while Hancock probably had enough chems in his pockets to attempt imagining it, she didn't feel like trying to paint the picture for him.

She didn't want to know what he'd think of her, knowing just how... comfortable she'd been.

“I'm a woman of many talents.” She snarked instead as another heavy piece of metal thumped into the bin, freeing up the shoulder beneath to roll and stretch. “Don't worry about getting used to it-- this is a one night stop. First thing in the morning, I'm seeing to the upgrades on the armor, and then back on the-- ah--”

Hands-- surprisingly strong hands despite withered skin that clung to spindly bones. She didn't know how that worked-- Hancock wasn't a big man, and the ghoulishness made her think he'd be frail... instead he'd hefted a flamer onto his back when he set out with her, and carried it from one end of the Commonwealth to the other without complaint. Finding those hands suddenly assisting with undoing the straps at her sides so that her chest piece could come loose was a surprise; simple and sure movements causing the scavenged military combat armor to come loose and slide forward. Without an anchor, it slid forward until the hard edge of the back plate caught on her neck and stopped it from simply falling to the floor. Meanwhile, Hancock's hands had slid in along her ribs, pressing firmly into the rough fabric and reminding her that they were, for the first time in a while, blissfully alone.

“I'm aware of that.”

Her lips pressed together-- a low sigh was expressed with his rough whisper in her ear. She swore he knew how much that got to her, despite her very deliberately not telling him. It was a struggle not to react, not to lean back as he reeled her in, those spidery hands easily finding their way upwards beneath the hanging breastplate and his chin perching on her shoulder. He'd pulled them together, his body against hers, and punctuated the move with a mischievous chuckle.

“Sometimes a little too talented-- doin' everything yourself, despite having a public servant waiting in the wings.” He teased her. “Let a ghoul help, eh sister?”

It wasn't entirely unexpected, nor unwelcome, but his eagerness was something that caught her off guard. She usually had something to say, something sly to come back with, but for some reason all she could focus on was the ticklish clutch of her gut as his fingers gathered up the material of her shirt in their traveling to her bust, squeezing fitfully enough to expose an inch of skin at her belly.

“Hancock--” She muttered, squirming slightly, but not in earnest. “C'mon, we've got the whole night--”

“That's right.” He agreed, but it was with an entirely different tone. One hand remained up, keeping her tight to him, while the other traveled down. The thin ribbon of skin that had been exposed was soon graced with the specific texture of his skin; rough, but not terribly so. Like callous, only it was all over; somewhat leathery and unique. His entire palm invaded through that opening, hard against her belly as fingertips sought out a path further south. “We've got the whole night-- and I didn't plan on wastin' any of it...” His fingers were ruthless once they found purchase, shoving past the tight fit provided by a belt she was wearing. “Did you?”

Her breath shuddered. No part of her wanted to tell him no-- the rush was enough to make her ignore the metal edge digging into the back of her neck, and forget how doggedly exhausted she'd been after their long trek here... particularly lugging her own weight in lead along the way.

In her hesitation, he'd gotten far enough to make a more intimate contact-- damnably persistent, like ivy finding the cracks in brickwork to wheedle its way in.

He pressed in against her, too certain to be deterred by straps and clothes. Barriers had been passed without any show of manners, knowing her well enough that if he was unwanted she would have thrown him off by now... and getting a sweet gasp as his reward.

“There we go.” His smile was evident in his tone-- no, not a smile, a grin-- a smug, shit-eating grin. She could imagine how it looked on his face, and knew he'd be wearing it for hours just to make her glare at him.

It didn't matter. Everything he'd done so far was just testing the water in his puckish, incorrigible way. Now he had her, and his wrist twisted as he worked that hand just a little further into her pants before slipping a fingertip against soft flesh. The motion was a sort of rocking of his hand, sliding the single offending finger down between sensitive lips before drawing back upwards with the tip pressed in, working up a little warmth in general and offering up a little tantalizing pressure to wake up the sweet spot for later, stroking her like that as his hips pitched against hers to turn her away from the bin next to the door and instead face her against the closed portal they'd entered through, reinforcing that he had her.

Without thinking, her right hand came out to brace against the door. Cold metal barely registered, just that it gave her something to push back against as he leaned in harder against her back, idly kneading her breast as he stroked her beneath restrictive layers of cloth and leather.

“O-oh... damnit, Hancock--”

“I was thinking fuck it, actually.” He smirked, still right by her ear for that quip before finally leaning back the necessary inches and releasing her breast to help her get her armor the rest of the way off, falling to the floor with a hard thud instead of getting placed in the bin. Pitching his shoulders back, hips pressed forward, grinding against her to advertise himself against her rump. “... just like this...” He added, losing a little breath as he suggested it, that free hand of his coming right back as if magnetically drawn, this time landing at the top of her hip and sliding upwards to expose a few more inches of skin-- his palm on her back, pushing with his surprising strength to encourage her to bend forward.

Bend over, actually.

She got his meaning, groaning softly as his stroking remained steady. She didn't resist the push, her hand shifting against the wall as her body dipped lower and her own free hand fumbled with the latch for her belt. The strip of leather resisted her, frustrating her fingers for a few agonizing moments as the sensation of his hand brought on another faint sigh, slipping against her with more ease as her body reflected her own eagerness; building with the anticipation. Then, finally, she managed to yank it just the right way for the latch to loose, the pressure of having his hand shoved in where it was such a tight fit relived, and further tugging releasing the subsequent button and zipper before they became obstacles... and before her hands became utterly uncooperative.

The loosened hem could be yanked down on his side, exposing more precious skin to the evening chill that crept in through the walls. Gnarled knuckles hooked on the hem, and fingertips got her underwear in the same dragging motion that demanded quick access. The lower she bent, the more he leaned against her, miming what would come in due time. It wasn't until he had her ass bare, pants and underwear drug down below the swell of her hips, that he finally pulled his own body back the inches necessary to attend to a few layers of fabric himself... but he didn't let off touching her as quickly. The hand that exposed her lingered, fingertips ghosting the sensitive skin just below the curve of her rump and sending a tingle across her skin, before his weathered palm pressed up and squeezed hard, his thumb sliding up to the top of her hip while his fingers rotated down. Finally, he finished up the groping with a light swat, chuckling behind her.

“Fuck you look so good like this...” He marveled, and she could hear layers of fabric moving against each other. “I just wanna wreck you.”

“Shut up and-- nnnnnnnh--”

She couldn't see him, but she felt him; hard and hot against her skin, pressed first between her thighs before he adjusted himself upwards. His finger's rubbing of her had paused, that hand simply anchored there as, from the rear, he worked himself against her, dragging the tip of himself this way and that until he found just the right angle to slick himself up with her excitement... and making her crave him in the process as she flexed her hips back towards him, trying to make it easier for him.

Somehow, some fucking how, she'd gone from exhausted to needy in the span of only a few minutes. It was the kind of eagerness that usually belonged to the young and dumb-- insanity she thought she'd left behind in her teen years, but he always found a way to draw it out of her.

She had no idea how he did that, but she never wanted it to change.

“Yeah?” His voice had dropped, the word barely differentiated from the heavy sigh it was carried out on. “C'mon, you can moan for me... no one's gonna hear you this time...”

More of him, pressing between wet lips-- and then more; there was resistance, going for it quick like this always meant it was a little rough, but it was the kind of sensation that left her gasping aloud as she went from craving that feeling of him to having him sink into her and remind her just how good it felt. Imagination, memory-- it always fell short, not quite living up to what it was in the immediate reality of the moment. Friction and heat, bound up in an intimate need-- just as addicting as any of the chems he slipped into her pockets whenever he thought she looked strung out.

Out of reflex, her jaw clenched tight, denying the urge to moan aloud and her body clenching around him instead. Both hands had applied themselves to the wall, and her breath shook as teeth ground together, resisting.

“Oh shit-- fuck-- if you squeeze me like that, I'm gonna...”

His hips bucked forward after a short draw back, the hand he'd been using to guide himself against her now finding its way to anchor at the crease that formed between her hip and her body as she bent against the wall, yanking her tight against him with the same motion before coming to a sharp stop. She could feel him inside, throbbing and thick, and the jolt made her jaw drop open for a short exclamation to escape her.

Buried, he began to rub her from the front again, abandoning the long strokes he'd used to warm her up and instead zeroing in on where she was most sensitive. Where his opening moves had all been about pressure with maximum contact, he changed tactics to only flick across her with the tip of his finger, instigating another tightening of her body as her resistance to making noise produced a shudder instead.

“D-don't--” She finally managed to murmur. “Oh God-- Hancock, you don't have to--”

This was a quickie-- an opener. She didn't expect this kind of attention; he always made up for it later, after a little Jet got him going again. This was usually the part where he took her by the hips with both hands and went to town, but instead he held her to keep them both tightly together, all while--

“F-fuck--” A whispered curse, kept lower than a murmur, followed by a greedy breath. He wasn't letting up, despite her telling him he didn't need to bother. She tried to push herself back against him, to antagonize him, but his fingers only tightened their grasp on the side of her hip as he leaned forward over her, ensuring that he was the one in control.

A defined clutch passed through her, centered at her core.

“Oh fuck-- mmmm--!”

“There you go... c'mon, let it out...” He coaxed her, rocking himself back in another short motion before jolting back into her again, letting out a guttural sound of his own as he did so. “Lemme hear you...”

It was an old habit to hold back, to grit her teeth and hold her breath-- anything to keep quiet. Her own fingers, once splayed open against the metal door, curled inwards into fists as the sensation built up, deep and desperate gasps getting drawn in through her nose as her jaw remained tightly closed, lips pressing hard against each other as she hummed and swallowed. Her head dropped down, his touch taking more and more of her focus.

Old habits were hard to break, but he was a new habit. One that liked to push at her old habits and see how long they'd stick.

Toes curled inside her boots, eyes closed without thinking. There was no thinking-- no, just her perception of him; the weight of his body against hers, the grip of his hand, and sound of his breath, all as her body underwent jolts that made her hips continue to try and rock back against his, one of her hands eventually lifting and banging back onto the door as the sensation turned briefly sharp, jaw loosing for a raw gasp between her lips and a guttural groan. “F-Fuck Hancock, you're gonna--- oh-- oh-- shit--”

“Rub you raw?” He completed the thought she was trying to articulate, drawing in a heavy breath of his own. His own hips rocked now, a minimal motion of a man that could barely help himself. “Wouldn't... wouldn't dream of it... just love the way you squeeze...”

The rocking changed things, introduced that delightful sensation that scratched the ineffable itch he'd aroused in her. Pressure and friction as he kept up his assault on her sensitivity made her knees wobble with a threat to give out, breath viciously driven out of her lungs in a single erotic moan.

“Fuck...” He murmured emphatically. “Sing for me babe... it's so pretty...” He encouraged her, pressing his face against the back of her neck as he kept a steady tempo. He was fully against her, laid over her back and abandoning his grasp on her hip to reach forward, those thin fingers of his stealing beneath the buttoned blouse of her fatigues and taking a demanding grasp on her breast; stalled only momentarily by the worn elastic band of her bra. The heel of his hand ground upwards at first, pressing in against her ribs, before he was pulling on her again, ensuring she remained anchored against him as he kept up the rocking motion he'd adopted over more conventional thrusting.

“Ah... ah shit... shit- shit-- J-John, oooooh... oh fuu...”

She lost the thread of why she'd been protesting in the first place. Her jaw fell open, and another moan came out; louder as everything began to come together. The movement, his insistent grasp, that very specific sense of fullness within her body and the craving it both satisfied and aggravated at the same time--

“Yeah?” He breathed against her ear. “You gettin' there, sweet thing? … good... I wanna feel it... And once you're over the edge, I'm gonna rail you until I burst.”

A thrill ran through her, like electricity that danced along her spine. Now that he'd articulated his intention, she wanted it, too.

“C-close...” She whimpered, nodding her head faintly. “J-just like that... l-little higher... rub a little higher... little circles around my-- oh- oh god- there- fuck yes-- there--!!”

Feverishly murmured coaching that directed his stroking where the craving was strongest sent her further than she expected to go, her head and chest dipping lower as her elbows bent and her forearms joined her hands in being braced against the door, a defined shaking running through her person as she went up to her toes and the rubber soles of her boots dug into the floor, further flexing her hips back in the desperation to have that sense of fullness as her body seemed to anchor itself on where they were intertwined. More than just laying open, her jaw stretched for her cry out with the rush.

His grip on her changed. He wasn't leaned over her anymore, but pitched back as both of his hands found their way to her hips.

God, she could feel him; the meeting of their bodies dominated her brain as she felt him throb within her shortly before he changed to much more active motions. There, again, was that surprising strength as he drew back and adjusted himself just low enough to begin taking her roughly, groaning between sharp breaths as his hips shocked against her rump with every thrust.

Her body was still squeezing, still rippling from what he'd just put her through, aware of the force in his every motion as he drove into her tightly clenched core.

“A-aah... aaanngh--!!”

A hitch, and his voice gave out for a more primal noise, his motions growing more hurried as she felt his nails digging into her hips. There'd probably scratches to attend to later-- not the first time. His breath juddered, followed by a gasp before it was held a moment. All at once, everything came to a halt, a shuddering swell moving up through his flesh that came shortly before a certain warmth spread within her; passed from him to her.

He claimed a sharp breath after, followed by a relieved exhale as his hands loosened. He didn't release her just yet, but he wasn't clutching quite so hard anymore.

“...shit that felt too good...” He muttered faintly as she tried to regain her own breath. One hand and forearm remained braced on the door, but the other had released to reach backwards for him, flexing her fingers to show she desired another kind of contact, and getting one of his hands in return for the non-verbal gesture. Once intertwined, she squeezed him, and let out a faint and almost girlish giggle.

“Too good...?” She quested, surprised he'd ever entertain the concept.

“Damn right.” He lobbed back, squeezing in return. “It's the kind of good a guy gets addicted to... Gotta find us some privacy a little more often.”

Don't have to tell me twice.

This was about the point where bodies needed to come apart; signaled by their hands drifting away from one another after that comforting squeeze... but that process was interrupted.

There was a knock at the metal door Paige was braced up against.

“General? Do you have a moment?”

… Preston, your timing is a disaster.

She recognized the voice in a heartbeat, and it was exactly the sort of person who had previously voiced his disapproval of her and Hancock's partnership... and he didn't even know about the more intimate details of said partnership. There was a shock associated to hearing his voice at this particularly compromised moment, one that made her face flush as she was excessively thankful for the solid door between them.

More thankful that he hadn't shown up a few minutes ago, when he might have heard a thing or two through that door.

Behind her, she more felt than heard Hancock's muted chuckle.

“I'm a little occupied at the moment, Garvey.” Paige answered back through the door; not entirely a lie. “Is it urgent?”

“Just a couple questions I'd like to ask, that's all.” Preston's voice answered back. “Security concerns.”

That was code for yes, it's urgent to me. Preston had been very particular about security ever since she assigned him to it. Making him wait would prompt more questions later, and possible lost trust with him and his group.

Despite very much not wanting to, it sounded like she was going to need to put her clothes back on for a little while.

“Just a minute, I'll be right out.” She informed him.

“Yes, sir.”

“Awee...” Hancock quietly cooed, easing himself away from her. “No cuddle time?”

Finally able to straighten up, she shot a look back at him that encouraged him to shut his face before she broke some part of it in lieu of his mostly missing nose... before cracking a smirk. “There's a bathroom behind that partition--” She directed him quietly, muting her voice to lower the chance it would carry. “No hot water, but it's clean.”

“Heh, ritzy.” Hancock smirked back. Looking at him, she was able to see exactly how ruffled his coat and blouse had ended up, with trousers only shifted just enough out of the way to get away with what they'd just done. He hadn't made any motion to arrange himself back into those trousers, though, appearing all too comfortable to just let it all hang out. “Is that your way to telling me to put it on ice? Cause if anyone needs cleaning up right now, it's you.”

He was right; she was a sticky mess between the thighs, and standing upright allowed for dripping between her legs. Usually she would have insisted on some clean cloth and water to manage that with, but at the current moment? She reached down and simply pulled pants and underwear back up, zipping, buttoning, and straightening both bra and blouse until it was impossible for anyone to know what they'd been up to by simply looking at her... and with only him aware of the specific nature of what was probably going to end up staining her undergarments.

“I'll make you clean it up, later.” She informed him playfully. “It's your mess.”

“Oooh... dirty.” He chuckled. “Don't threaten me with a good time.”

Her look hardened, making a motion at him that encouraged him to shoo-- the last thing she needed was to open the door and have Garvey catch a glimpse of her companion with his dick out. Hancock pouted at her, but ultimately obeyed.

With a sigh, she turned herself back towards the door, hesitated a moment, and then finally grasped the handle to push it open and head out.

Doing so was not unlike a splash of cold water to the face. Twilight was a good hour past, and the night sky was filled with stars without a single cloud to obscure them. There was a stiff wind tonight; enough to snap Garvey's trench coat against his legs and make the man pull up the swell of his scarf a little more to protect his nose and cheeks.

Going from the relative comfort of her little home-made haven, as well as the heat of her recent encounter, into the abrupt chill of the night with a sharp wind in her face could have only been more of a shock to the system if it had been raining.

As she emerged, Garvey looked back to appear in profile to her. The man was always at the ready, laser rifle held upright over his chest and his eyes brightly aware despite the dark of the night. Paige's shack was at the far end of Sanctuary; away from where she'd built housing for the other residents, as well as where she'd set up crops, power generators, and water. Looking down the slight hill her shack sat upon at Preston meant also seeing the lights of the settlement beyond him; the faint yellow glow of something that could almost be called a town as the back-drop to his silhouette and shining gaze.

“Garvey.” She greeted him by his last name; it felt more professional, what with him always insisting on calling her General since she'd helped him revive the Minuet Men and retake their old headquarters. “What can I do for you?”

“Like I said, I just had a few questions...” He answered, peering further up and towards the shack. She couldn't see his face; her abode featured no outdoor lights, and with the glow of the settlement behind him his features were cast in shadow. “... where's the ghoul?”

The ghoul. She could practically taste the disapproval on that one.

“Hancock is taking this chance to wash some of the wasteland out of his clothes.” She responded. “Is your security concern about him?”

“No, no, of course not. If you trust him, that's enough for me.” Preston assured her. “But, uh...”

“Out with it, Garvey.” She ordered sternly.

“I was manning the watch when you came back to Sanctuary, General-- I saw you brought back your power armor, and it looked like you were carrying a heavy load of supplies. I know you'd tell me if anything were coming for us here, but... I didn't see any of it go out with the traders, and that made me worry. So, I've gotta ask; do you think something nasty is coming up this way?”

She blinked. Preston thought she was stockpiling for an incoming threat. She almost wanted to laugh aloud, but couldn't manage it. Instead, she stepped down from her place above him on the hill, coming to stand at his side while still looking out at the settlement.

“No,” She answered him. “Nothing's coming here. I'm preparing for a journey into dangerous territory... I need to upgrade my armor before we head out, and we needed a safe place to rest our heads before we committed. I want every advantage we can get under us before we go.”

A pause. Whatever he expected to hear, that wasn't on the list.

“... General, you know all you'd have to do is say the world, and I'd--”

“I'm going somewhere you can't follow, Garvey.” She responded flatly. Of course he wanted to go with her, probably wanting to convince her to take him instead of Hancock. He considered himself more capable, more trustworthy; the better choice on all fronts.

She'd disagree with him outright, but Hancock also had a very specific advantage over Garvey that would leave him no grounds to argue on.

“I'm going into the Glowing Sea.”

Silence. The pause stretched out for several beats, no doubt as Preston processed what exactly it was she was saying.

“... I see. The armor will protect you from most of the radiation, and your companion is immune.” He observed. “... smart choice.” He added, begrudgingly, before asking, “But why are you going in there? Even with the armor, you're going to need to be carrying your weight in medicine to even have a hope of making it back alive...”

“It's important. That's all I can say right now.”

A month or two ago, she might have told him. Before getting involved with the Underground Railroad, before encountering a synth and the person they were trying to replace at the same time and very nearly killing the wrong one during the confrontation, before learning exactly how the institute dealt with people they didn't want to have around anymore... But now? There was doubt in her mind, about almost everyone. Was Preston really Preston? Or was he just another set of eyes and ears for them? If she mentioned a defector, hiding out in the Glowing Sea, would they somehow beat her to that defector and kill them?

She couldn't risk it. This was her line on Shaun, on her son. Right now, the only person she trusted was the one who was going with her; Hancock... and even he didn't know exactly why they were going.

Granted, he hadn't asked.

“... You're sure about this?” Preston quested quietly.

She scoffed. “... barely.” She answered back. “But it's the only way forward I have right now.”

She'd already decided on a direction. Her doubts didn't matter anymore.

“Then I suppose the only thing to do is wish you luck.” He sighed, turning to face her and taking a hand off the stock of his laser rifle to offer it to her. She, in kind, turned to him and took it, sharing a firm shake. “Whatever you're facing, if there's anyone who can survive it, it's you. You already provisioned?”

“Been buying out all the Rad Away and Rad-X I can find.” She confirmed. “Cleaned out every trader between here and Diamond City. Tomorrow morning I take all the lead I've collected and upgrade the power armor to withstand the radiation... and then we'll be suiting up and heading out.” She paused, withdrawing her hand from his. There was something else that had to be said; something she'd been hoping to save until they were on their way out, so there'd be no space to argue about it... but now was probably the kinder time to say it. “Garvey, if I don't come back--”

“You're coming back.” He interrupted.

“If I don't,” She pressed. “You'll be back in charge of the Minute Men. You can't hesitate from that. We've got enough supplies to last a day out there-- maybe two or three if we find a place to shelter that's not soaked in rads, like a cave or a pre-war bomb shelter that's somehow intact. If I don't come back to Sanctuary within that time? You need to take over properly and keep up the fight.”

He was quiet. He didn't like it.

“... I don't know if I can live up to what you've done for us, Paige.” He admitted, softly. “But... if it comes to that, I'll do my best by you.”

“... that's all we can do out here, Preston.” She affirmed in kind. “I know you're the man for the job.”

“Let's try not to find out.” He rebutted.

That time, she let out a faint laugh. “Don't worry.” She told him. “I'll be doing my best, too.”

__________

Chapter One: You are here Chapter Two: [hasn’t been posted to Tumblr yet, will add link when I’ve got it up... oor you could just go read the story so far on Fanfiction XD]

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider reblogging it to help me find a wider audience! <3

#Fallout 4 #f!sole survivor #sole survivor #hancock x sole survivor #John Hancock #Hancock #Loving Stupid #fanfiction #fallout 4 fanfiction #female sole survivor #Paige #Paige Argot

[the-darklings]

—𝗖𝗢𝗔 𝗙𝗔𝗤;

Hello, everyone! So with COA being such a long-running series and new readers finding it constantly, I have come to realise that a lot of questions I get often repeat. So to keep everything easy and clear and friendly for everyone regardless of whether you started COA at the very beginning of the story or just recently found it, I have spent the day relaxing, eating junk food, and compiling this FAQ. Please read through it because chances are the answers are here somewhere. I have sectioned the guide into following: general, story, ships, original squad (OCs), AUS, OC!V and tips/advice. If the answer to your question is not here, please feel free to send me a message and have a wonderful day! <33 - kat.

GENERAL:

when does this story update?

I try to keep a bi-weekly schedule (now usually Sunday updates). But I always let you know when the chapter is done by making a final word count post (pre edits). 

do you have a masterlist?

yes, you can find it here.

do you have a tag list?

not for COA. they’re very time consuming and I’m already really busy sorry :(

are your requests open?

I rarely open my inbox for requests. the only exception being the monthly blurb nights. then I reblog a prompt list and let people send some requests in for any fandom/ship. however, usually due to how many I get, it only happens every few months. that being said, you can still send me ideas/suggestions and if it inspires me, I will write it. that’s how the majority of the AUs have come about. but i’m also a very busy person so sorry if I can’t. 

can I make X or Y for COA and tag you?

yes. yes. yes. please, please, feel free to create whatever for COA (no matter how small or silly) because I consider it a great honour that I’ve been able to inspire someone else. whatever it is, please tag me. I wanna see.

okay, I made a thing and tagged you but you didn’t respond :(

Tumblr is notorious for eating my notifs. whatever it is (art/post/etc) if I don’t respond to it in a day or two, please give me a nudge. you’re not being annoying, I promise. chances are I missed it/tumblr ate it. 

I wanna scream/discuss/theorise about COA with others, is there any way for me to do that?

my amazing readers have set up this reddit page that is full of lovely people, theories, and memes etc. I check it often and interact on there, too, so feel free to drop by.

STORY:

how many chapters will COA be?

25. the last one being a very long epilogue.

have you decided on the ending yet?

yes. from as early as part 2. it's barely changed since. 

will we ever see more of Prague/Naples? hoe, please say yes.

yes. I plan to write both as COA bonus stories after the main story-line concludes.

will there be a sequel? 

depends. on two things: 1) if anyone will even care by that point 2) time. this story has consumed 5 months of my life entirely. i’ve been incredibly strict with myself when it comes to writing it (in a good way) but at best it won’t be finished till the end of august/beginning of september. so likely even if I do, there will be a break for a few months at least. I do have ideas though.

you promised us smut. where is it?

patience is a virtue. ;)

happy ending or tragedy? (please don’t say tragedy, you monster)

I would describe it more as “bittersweet” but whether it leans more towards bitter or sweet you’ll have to see.   

SHIPS:

any endgame hints?

you know more about the ending than you probably realise

can v/s finally go to Paris? for the love of GOD? pLEASE?

no

hector + v? powerful. will there be more of them in the future? 

agreed & yes. hector and v have their own arc to go on. it’s actually one of my favourites in this story. I don’t want to say more than that right now because I have plans for their dynamic so no spoilers. :)

please stop bullying john. give us some j/v content please? 

i, for one, adore john. it’s team S that’s bullying him lol. but wait till parabellum. i’ve always referred to that portion of the story as the second coming of j/v.

does lucien actually have a thing for v or is it a creepy obsession? 

it’s both.

I ship v with everyone :/ is that bad?

the sky is the limit. ship all the things proudly (but seriously, no, it isn’t. I ship all the ships, too, and that’s the fun of it) 

v/elder tho? 👀

🔫🤡

j/v or s/v? be honest.

you fool,,,, you buffoon. ot3 j/v/s is where it’s really at. imagine their POWER.   

ORIGINAL SQUAD:

what do the Elites/Lovers look like/how old are they?

please refer to this

will there be more step??

of course. he’s my baby. :)

will we see more of camorra/learn more about the elite’s and their backstories?

while I would love to take the time and flesh them all out with full backstories, only hector will be getting his backstory explored in the main canon because plot.

does lucien care for mika anymore or has he replaced her with v?

lucien is a messy hoe. mika is his subject of “affection” but v is his foil and equal. he recognises the same hurt in her that he has gone through himself so it’s more of a fixation. with time, lucien would likely destroy v so no bueno. 

I ship our OCs.

I do, too.

can we write about your OCs/V?

so you would have to come to me and discuss this more in private but I’m fine with this sort of thing usually. in fact, a prequel hector story already exists so you’re likely good but please contact me first. 

AUs:

when/how often do you update the vampire!au?

whenever I have time/inspo. mainly time. so this means you can get it daily or not get it for several weeks because COA is priority. I keep you all updated on when I have something cooking tho.

what is the actual pairing for vamp!au?

undecided as of yet. i’m leaning more towards ot3 right now but we shall see.

how often do you update flowing in me?

same as the above. whenever I have the time but I will keep you updated.

how many parts will flowing in me be?

I have 5 parts(ish) planned.

do you have a tag list for flowing in me?

I will. please leave a comment on the story if you want to be tagged in future parts!

will flowing in me feature other characters (john, winston etc.)?

this story is mainly camorra-centric but I do plan for John to appear at some point.

how did you come up with your lore in vamp!au?

to be completely honest....I just wrote a bunch of stuff down and used what stuck. mostly the ideas were pulled out of thin air while still trying to keep within the spirit of the canon material (the high priest, the holy church, the twelve priests, john being the boogeyman etc). camorra as the natural enemy seemed fitting and santino as a vampire prince even more so.

can we send you new au ideas/expand on old ones (manager!V etc)?

yes, always. I always try my hardest to reply but ofc I can’t promise I’ll be able to use them all but thank you in advance.

OC!V:

who is the face claim for OC!V?

weronika spyrka

what is her real name?

clara

how old is she at the beginning of the story and now?

23 beginning of chapter 1, 30 beginning of chapter 4 (current timeline)

will/would you ever write an original story about her?

I have considered creating something original out of COA itself or one of its sister series/concepts (like FIM). since I really started working on COA during last year’s NaNo, that might be the time I create something original this year. 

TIPS & ADVICE:

how do you write so much, so quickly?

I don’t think that word count is really reflective of the quality work itself. I don’t think you should worry how much you write, either. 100 words can be just as valuable as 1k. most of them time I have a deadline breathing down my neck and I do work well under pressure so that inspires me to force the chapters out. I also do very long days because despite what it might look like I’m not a fast writer.

how can I improve my writing?

read and practice. I know it’s dumb and overused advice but it’s how I learned english and found my style (still a mess and WIP) but still this advice does help. 

how do you keep motivated?

spite, your support, genuine adoration for these characters/word, a lot of spite. 

do you plan? outline?

I have a vague story outline with specific scenes in mind as I go along (helps to set up foreshadowing, twists, and those ‘full circle’ moments). I also plan each chapter scene by scene and know what each chapter is meant to accomplish. So yeah in a sense. 

#i will add more in the future if it comes to mind #with this future parts coming up i imagine more questions will repeat lol #faq post #fic: children of ares

[that-banana-headed-bovine]

Okay so funny story.

I just wrote this whole ask reply and Tumblr wouldn’t let me just post it, so I figured if I hit “answer privately” I could then find it and repost it to the main blog.  That did not happen.  Sooo you’re getting an answer from not my asks lmbo, plz hav mercy I’m still unsure how to work this site properly I swear-

@didaskale-katejon​ asked for some more details about the Human AU and about the bois’ designs, which like, thank you for that it means a lot ahsiodhfaiohsdf I lov to talk about them and it’s awesome to hear some people may be interested in it too ;w;

~~~

Hi there!  Believe it or not, I did not actually forget about this, I’ve just somehow not gotten to this over the course of an absurdly long time because of a variety of dumb reasons.  First, I wasn’t sure how to get their designs down on paper in a way that I liked, and then I decided to just use drawings I already had anyway... then I pondered how much story to say or not say- I guess we’ll just talk about the basics LOL

The first and most important thing to clarify is, well, I’ll let Kitt say himself.

howtheheckdoesonesizetheseimageshelpitissolarge

Anyway, yeah, the Human AU is,,, barely a Human AU.  I use that title for it because “Android AU” could be confusing, beings that they are already artificially intelligent robots with human emotions after all.  I didn’t realize that “android” specifically meant “humanoid appearance” until recently, and I figured it was best to just avoid any potential mix-ups.

Now, their design has changed a tad bit since I drew that (it’s one of the first that I ever made for my asks on Instagram) and it doesn’t have color.  Sooo, I’m gonna include one full-body for each boi.  Yes, that does mean that Karr’s here too.

First of all, here’s a Kitt!  In this AU, his human equivalent has blue eyes and red accents.  The size of those accents is inconsistent as heck; in fact, quite a lot is still pretty inconsistent with it.  What I know is that his glasses act as his dashboard and scanner--don’t worry, this does not mean his mouth will not move.  I just mean that there are buttons on the side of the glasses (buttons that I cannot be bothered to draw usually), and when he goes into Surveillance Mode or something similar, this happens (I had a cool gif for it but whatever this works too).

There was context to this, but I can’t remember it.  Anyway, have some cute Kitts.

aaand let’s move on.

To the boye who may cause some amount of controversy.

Our mans Karr.

I’m just.  I’m just gonna say this plainly.

He’s not even kind of an antagonist in this AU.  He is here and he is a Good Boye.  He has potentially antagonistic ties to be sure, with Garthe being the one who brought him back, but he didn’t choose that path.  He chose to go off on his own and try to blend in, try to be safe.  When Michael and Kitt happen to stumble upon him, he’s nervous that they’ll once again put this goal in jeopardy.  Michael might.  But Kitt is in no rush to out his brother, not when he’s in [redacted for now] job causing no harm and, in fact, doing good.  Karr, in turn, is there for Kitt when he needs it so long as it does not put his own cover in jeopardy to begin with anyway.  If you thought Kitt was an adorable sassmaster, look out for this one <3

He has a scanner too.  And he’s also a cutiepie, so c’mon now, we need some cute Karr spammage.

THAT’S RIGHT YOU GET ALL THE KARR CONTENT

LOVE HIM DAINGET

I jus- my son is not evil he is not evil he is a good boye

Okokok just a few more of them jus vibing, I’ll get into some more substance in another post if you want I just.  I love them together the whole concept of these bros being bros is just so cute I can’t.  Not

Okokok there, there are my sons

By the way, almost all of these silly panels have come from my Q&A, which I also have going here just through my asks, so like if you want more goofy hijinks from these two then uhhhh,,, yknow,,, owo?

I don’t consider the asks canon within the AU, but I do touch on important plot points and test out how I would want characters to react in certain scenarios.

Also I totally left out Semi because idk if she’s going to end up as an android in this AU or not, but like if you want more info about her you can definitely ask and I’m more than happy to have her answer questions for the Q&A as well.

I think Tumblr was just upset that I have like 20 pictures in this

[chaoticdean]

I know when you go down you darkest roads

I know when you go down all your darkest roads

Chapter 4 — Personal pillow — Dean POV

Dean and Castiel go undercover as a couple going through couple therapy, in order to catch a monster that specifically targets couples dealing with issues, feeding on their distress, anger, and pain.

~ 3.2K

I'm posting earlier than I'm supposed to, mainly because I'm going back to work on Monday and I'm not sure I'm actually gonna be able to update during the day. From here on, chapters will be dropping around Sundays/Mondays depending on my work schedule :)

Next chapter is going to be a bit different since I'm gonna dive into the "Cas side of it all", and I'm really excited for you guys to dive into it!

Also, if you liked the little texts I experimented with during this chapter, just know that they'll be back :)

Okay, MOVING ON. Have a great read, y'all!

— I know the SPNStayAtHome Challenge is over, but thanks to @bend-me-shape-me ; @helianthus21 & @pray4jensen for hosting and getting this story into motion! —

READ ON AO3

(Rebloggable chapter on Tumblr : Part I / Part II / Part III)

Dean’s mind is overwhelmed by approximately a hundred a twenty-five different things — the most prominent being if I had just stayed back there with Cas instead of running to drink my fears away, Stan and Sally would still be here, how surprising that someone has to die for your mistakes again, Winchester — when Mrs. Pritchard catches his arm.

“Dean, I think you should go back to your room and break the news to your husband. I’m almost sure he’s the last person who talked to Stan and Sally, so I’m guessing the cops will come for you both at some point” she says, wiping her face with a tissue.

Dean nods in agreement, suddenly realizing that Castiel isn’t there amongst the group of people standing around in the hallway. Which means he doesn’t know yet.

Great. As if this night could get any worse at this point.

“Okay. Let me get you back to your office first, you look like you’re about to pass out” he says, extending his arms, guiding her out through the hallway.

It takes them a couple of minutes to get there and once Dean is certain the therapist isn’t going to faint, he leaves and makes his way to his bedroom while avoiding the rest of the residents — everyone seems to be out there, except for Cas.

He pushes the bedroom door open, suddenly fearing that Castiel might have left (after all, he wouldn’t blame him at this point), but the angel is right there lying in bed, reading god knows what book he’s managed to get his hands on. And he’s wearing those damn navy pants with Dean’s shirt just like the night before. It’s like a punch in the guts every time Dean just looks at him.

The hunter sighs loudly, somewhat relieved to find him here. The angel cocks an eyebrow at him, tilting his head on the side like he always does.

“You okay?” He asks as Dean drops on the bed, face meeting the pillows in seconds, “I thought you might have left” he adds, and the way his voice breaks at the end make Dean feel even worse.

“I’d never leave you, Cas” he says, raising his face up to watch the angel, “I thought we were passed that?”

“I don’t know, you seemed so angry at me.”

Dean raises on his elbow, watching as Cas lowers his book — “The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller, the hunter reads on the cover — his eyes locking-in with the angel’s.

“I wasn’t angry at you, Cas. I was angry at me.”

“Why?” He tilts his head again, and Dean’s heart sink.

“I…” he starts, wondering how he could translate everything into words, then deciding not to, “It doesn’t matter. Something happened, Cas. Stan and Sally…”

Dean doesn’t finish his sentence, letting the rest of it hang in the air until Castiel’s face gets paler as he understands.

“Oh, no… What happened? When?” He asks, tossing his book to the bedside table.

“I don’t know, I was outside talking with Mrs. Pritchard in front of the building and we saw the cops and an ambulance come in so we rushed back inside, and… It was bad, Cas.”

“Did you gather any intel? I thought the Algea only went after couples who had troubles, but Stan and Sally seemed to be the only couple who didn’t have any major problems if you put all their bickering aside.”

“Yeah, and they were killed having.. well, uh. Kinky sex. Which doesn’t fit the M.O. Not the kinky part, just the sex part.”

Cas tilts his head again, this time with a wondering look on his face.

“Kinky?” He asks, looking at Dean without blinking an eye.

Dean can barely contain a massive eye-roll, making Cas’s frown grow even bigger.

“Kinky as in ‘naughty’. Weird, deviant if you will” Dean finally explains.

“How does one have deviant sex?” Cas seriously wonders, and it takes everything in Dean not to burst out laughing. “Maybe we should call Sam in.”

“What, to ask him what he knows about kinky sex?”

This time, Cas rolls his eyes so hard Dean’s slightly afraid the whole world is going to shake, and he can’t suppress his loud laughter at the sight. Castiel returns his wide grin and Dean instantly feels lighter.

He still won’t want you, not today, and not in a million years, Winchester.

“You’re an idiot. I meant we should call him in, tell him what happened and see if there’s anything in the lore about creatures who go after both struggling couples and happy couples having deviant sex” he adds, watching as Dean buries his head back in the pillow with a loud groan.

“I don’t want to call him in, he’s out with Eileen somewhere on the West Coast and quite frankly, he deserves a break.”

“Well quite frankly, so did we. Yet here we are.”

“Aww, Cas. I thought this was our vacation?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“I can say it once more if you want me to.”

“You’re too fucking playful at this time of night, dude.”

“No, I’m not, I'm being realistic.”

Dean smiles into the soft tissue of the bedcover, realizing they got back to their easy banter as if nothing happened. He finally rolls on his side, locking eyes with his partner.

“Do you want to hit the lore?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I’d rather go to bed. We don’t have anything before therapy tomorrow at 11, that leaves us enough time to research before” he finishes before yawning hard.

“Okay Rip Van Winkle, let’s get you to bed, alright?” Dean says, getting up on his two feet and grabbing his nightclothes — his old Zeppelin ’73 tour that he’s owned for at least 3 decades, and a pair of black sweatpants matching Cas’s.

“Technically, I’m already in bed…” Cas adds

Dean is very pleased to realize Cas is still watching him while he strips from his day to nightclothes in front of him, completely unbothered. He’s about to ask if he likes what he sees — damn it’s hot seeing Castiel looking at every inch of his skin like this — when the voice in his head slams his thoughts away with a distinctive “you’ll fuck him up too, so just back away and don’t”.

“Okay, FYI, if we’re sleeping together every night until we get through this case, I’m using you as my personal pillow,” Dean says with a sigh as he drops on the bed, “D’you mind?”

He slips under the covers, almost praying for Cas to say something along the lines of “Yes, please fucking use me”, or more realistically something resembling a simple “yes”. But suddenly Castiel is right there inside his personal space, his scent everywhere around Dean as he pushes him back into the mattress and presses his whole body against him.

“I don’t mind, but I’d rather have you as my personal pillow than the other way around,” he says, dropping his head in the crook of the hunter’s neck just like the night before, “do you mind?”

Ah, that playful tone again. Dean could almost sigh in content at the feeling of deep satisfaction the whole thing gives him.

“I don’t mind, babe,” he says, brushing a light kiss on Castiel’s forehead as his arm gently closes around his waist, bringing him even closer.

He told you not to call him babe, why are you even trying?

Castiel pulls even closer, his nose brushing against Dean’s skin on his throat while the hunter extends an arm, turning off the lights.

“You know, at some point, we’re gonna have to talk about the fact that you’re sleeping a lot more lately, or how you need coffee in the morning and meals more often” Dean adds, his arm coming back around the angel’s waist, settling in against his back.

Most of the time, Dean tries not to dwell on it too much. Whenever Castiel would be ready to assess this, he’ll be here waiting. But it was becoming an almost daily situation, with Cas falling asleep almost every night for a couple of weeks now, and the coffee situation started almost 2 months ago.

“Sure. Whenever you’re ready to talk about why you were so angry at yourself you chose to literally run away from me and this room instead of talking to me, we can talk about it” the Angel mutters against Dean’s neck, the warmth of his breath giving Dean goosebumps.

“Yeah, okay” he sighs, rolling his eyes in the darkness of the room, “you’ve made your point.”

I’ve been in love with you for more than a decade and I don’t think I can survive the look on your face when you ultimately reject me.

Kissing you, calling you “babe” and being your husband all day gives me a sense of happiness, but happiness is always a lie, it gets people killed.

I’m terrified of what I feel, and I’m terrified of losing you if you ever find out how I feel. That’s why I always run when it gets too complicated to keep it inside.

Because it doesn’t matter how it hurts to keep this to myself if I get to spend a few more moments by your side. That’s why I run. That’s why I keep running away from you.

But of course, this all stays inside.

“I’m serious, Dean. This is exactly what we talked about in therapy today —“

“Cas, it’s an undercover case, it’s not like we’re really going through therapy” Dean interrupts him, and immediately feels Castiel tense up against him.

“So what? Our issues are real, even if we’re not the lovely Cartellones. You’re always doing that” he almost growls, obviously fed up by Dean’s assessment.

“What?”

“Whenever you’re angry at something you always decide that it’s best to move away from the people who love you and brood in a corner by yourself without telling anyone what’s really bothering you. It’s infuriating, Dean.”

“It’s just the way I am.”

“Well, like I already said, just because you’re that way doesn’t mean you can’t change.”

“This is just my way of coping, Cas. I don’t know how to do that without storming away from everything.”

“Well, it hurts the people around you when you do it. It hurts Sam. It hurts Jack. And it hurts me, most of the time, even if I do understand why you do it.”

Dean’s heart crushes at the single thought of hurting Cas. He’s not oblivious to the fact that he hurt him before, and he still hates himself for it. But having Castiel lying tightly against him, his low voice resonating inside his throat where his lips are almost pressed up, saying to his face that he keeps on hurting him… That’s another level.

“I’m sorry. I never mean to hurt you” he says, his eyes closing on impact.

“I know you don’t. So change. Talk to me. To Sam. To Jack. Hell, to anyone. Stop pushing people away.”

“It’s easier said than done, Cas.”

“Just give it a try. For me.”

Dean swallows hard at the thought of actually telling Castiel why he ran away earlier, when the angel’s hand finds its way under Dean’s shirt and he starts stroking the skin of his back almost absently. If he wasn’t so self-conscious right now, the hunter is almost sure his starved-touch self would moan disgracefully at the single touch of Cas’s fingertips along his skin.

The hunter sighs in content instead, Castiel’s head finding its rightful place and settling in the warmth of his neck. There’s newfound confidence and some drops of bravery left in Dean when he actually stretches his left arm out and cards his fingers gently inside Castiel’s hair.

When he groans in content, Dean could swear the shiver that goes through his entire body could light up Antarctica.

“We should do that more often,” Cas says, his voice drowsy like he’s minutes away from drifting off into sleep.

“What? Talking?”

“Cuddling. Sleeping together. Kissing.”

Wait.. what?

“You’d wanna do that… more often?” He asks warily, not wanting to jump to conclusion too fast here and get his heart smashed into pieces, “With me?”

“Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Hold on, let me pull up a quick list for you here: hum, everyone? I’m a lost cause, Cas. I’m not worth it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, babe,” he says, placing a soft kiss on Dean’s jawline, his lips brushing against the light stubble of his cheek, “you deserve everything. All of it.”

Suddenly it’s like Dean can’t breathe anymore. It takes him almost a minute to recover, and by then the angel’s slow breathing indicates that he’s already fallen asleep, despite Dean’s heart thundering like crazy right there where he’s lying against him.

Dean’s hand is still inside Castiel’s hair, and he keeps on softly stroking it as he watches him sleep, the dull light of the moon illuminating the angel’s features in the dark.

It’s actually insane how beautiful he looks. The way the white soft light caresses the line of his jaw, the stubble that grew on his cheek looking even more magnificent by the minute.

“I love you” he murmurs into the dark, well aware of all the implications these three little words bring, and taking advantage of Cas being asleep to say them before drifting into sleep moments later, “I love you so much, for so long already. I just wish I wasn’t this person, that way I wouldn’t fuck you up. I can’t risk that. I can’t risk losing you.”

His arms tighten around the angel, and he drops a soft kiss against Cas’s hair. The last thing he remembers before giving up to sleep is thinking he could have so much more if he only stopped hating himself so much.

**

When Dean awakes the next morning, the sun is filling the room and the first thing he feels is cold.

He extends an arm already searching for Castiel but only meets cold sheets and an empty bed. He opens his eyes, groaning as the light attacks his iris, quickly assessing that the room is empty except for him.

There’s a pit in his stomach as he sits up and reaches for his phone, and he kinds of hate himself at the bitterness he can already feel inside his throat.

What if he left? What if he doesn’t remember what he said last night? What if he doesn’t want to talk about it because he figured out how fucked up it would be?

The screen lights up and tells him it’s 8 am already. There’s a text from Sam asking if they’re okay and how the case is going, a couple from Jack rambling about the superhero hole he dived into while they’re away, but nothing from Cas. Dean quickly texts him, hoping to have an answer that suppresses this uncomfortable feeling inside of him. And sure enough, his phone beeps half a minute later.

Dean sighs in relief, dropping back on the mattress. He lingers for a moment, his face pressed up against the pillows. Cas’s scent is everywhere, and no matter how hard he tells himself he’s such a cliché about this, it really does wonder on his mood.

Cas said he liked kissing him.

Cas said they should do it more often.

He’s still not sure he really believes it, but it still makes him giddy inside.

You’re not a schoolgirl, Winchester. That was probably just your head talking to yourself. No way Castiel could want that with you.

When Castiel finally appears 20 minutes later with a box of donuts in one hand and two cups of coffee in the other, sporting a brand new light blue shirt — I swear to God I will kill you for making me endure this, Sammy — Dean is buttoning his own very new emerald shirt while whistling to Led Zeppelin.

“You’re in a good mood,” Castiel says, putting down the box and one cup of coffee for Dean to drink on his bedside table.

“Do I detect a surprised tone in your voice?” Dean answers playfully, opening the donuts box like it’s going to disappear.

“Well, you’re usually pretty grumpy until you’ve gotten your first coffee.”

Dean rolls his eyes at him, shoving half a donut inside his mouth. Castiel is still watching him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Dean can’t help but notice how good that new shade of blue suits him, and he mentally smacks himself for it.

“So, did you find out anything useful?”

“Sort of. I still think we’re hunting an Algea, but I found out that they like to kill couples while they’re having sex. Something about the taste being sweeter, according to the books I’ve found.”

“Fucking great” Dean mutters, finishing his coffee, “So they just kill them while they’re getting some sweet time just because they taste better if they do? Silver still kills it though, nothing wrong in your book about that?”

Cas nods, watching as Dean comes closer. He reaches for his collar with a smile, unbuttoning the shirt further down a little. The angel looks at him with a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?”

“Nothing, I just think you look better when it’s unbuttoned a bit more, just like that.”

Pleased with his work, Dean uses the last drops of bravery he has left and reaches for Cas’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the angel’s cheekbone with a light touch.

And immediately senses Castiel tense up, as he crosses his arms across his chest while averting Dean’s gaze.

Well, if Dean had been looking for any kind of answer, he’d guess that would be it.

What the fuck did you expect, Winchester? I’ve been telling you for two days, and over a decade: he doesn’t want you. Isn’t that enough for you to finally believe me?

He removes his hand as quickly as if he’d been burned, and immediately back off, dropping on the edge of the bed to supposedly puts his boots on — it’s a very practical position to avoid looking at Cas and right now, looking at Cas to see the colors of rejection and disgust painted on his face is pretty much the last thing he wants to do.

“I’ll just… Meet me in the common room when you’re ready, alright?”

Castiel’s voice dropped a tone, like it does when he’s uncomfortable or doubtful. When Dean raises his head to watch him leave, he gets a glimpse at the sadness in the angel’s eyes right before the bedroom door slams shut and he’s left alone.

The emptiness he feels growing inside himself is perhaps even worse than the rising pain.

#jus writes #jus writes: i know when you go down all your darkest roads #I'm sorry? I guess? #USE :) YOUR :) GODDAMN :) WORDS :) YOU :) BLOODY :) IDIOTS #Destiel #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #writer of destiel #spncreatorsdaily #Castiel/Dean Winchester #undercover destiel #undercover as married #idiots in love #friends to lovers #sharing a bed #angst with a happy ending #angst and feels #fluff and angst #ao3 #Hurt/Comfort #oblivious!dean

[penny-anna]

@abluescarfonwaston​ as I said I got like 4 stars for this meme and no specific requests, so I’m just going to talk at length about the fic I have the most to say about, which is sandstorms and hazy dawns

hooray!!

She comes to him in the night, breath hot against his ear, and says, “can we keep them?”

This opening scene takes place between the 2nd and 3rd scenes of the story... this is probably needlessly confusing as the rest of the story is in chronological order but, this is where I wanted to start & I can do what I want.

“No,” he says.

He feels her weight shift as she lies down beside him. “Why not?”

“You know why.”

She noses at his neck, at the side of his head, nuzzling him. He feels the beginnings of a purr down in her chest, feels it in her and inside himself. “I like them.”

He touches her head, burying his fingers in her coarse fur the way he hasn’t for years. It’s been a long time, since they were as close as this. When they are together she sleeps an arm’s length from him. For days at a time they’re apart. He knows her only as a flash of white on the edge of his vision, a scent in the air. She wanders for miles, for weeks, following her own path, and he sees her not at all.

so let’s talk about the break up!!

Geralt & Dag used to have a more ‘normal’ person + separated daemon relationship (like most witchers), in which they would only split up for long periods out of practical necessity. they broke up for several years following events in blaviken. here is my extremely rough rendering of how that went

geralt: why you let this happen. you’re supposed to be my conscience :(

dag: umm how is this my fault? you asshole?

geralt: fuck off

dag: fine i will!! *fucks off*

geralt: wait no i didnt mean it :(

i have no intention of ever writing this scene as i don’t think i could do it justice. in my head he also throws a rock at her tho. bcos he’s an angry boy & an asshole.

however!! the strain in their relationship would not have started there. when i was writing this fic i was imagining that the fact of being separated would in itself put a strain on any person/daemon relationship, which i felt was implied by the HDM books. & then since writing it I read The Secret Commonwealth which more or less confirms that separating does just cause people’s relationships with their daemons to break down sometimes.

I think I said this in another post but, I imagine that the newly acquired ability to have separate experiences would make them more and more able to seriously disagree on things. and physically separating for long periods (even if only for practical reasons) would force them to get better at functioning alone which could in turn make them more and more emotionally distant from each other.

He scratches at the join of her neck and jaw, and that purr grows, long and deep and contented. She lays her head down beside his, and he holds her. He’s aware of her tail flicking, restless. She’ll be awake a while yet and so will she. They always sleep and wake at the same times, no matter how many miles separate them.

Geralt loves her, his lion, his dæmon. He loves her with every fibre of his being. He loves her strength, her grace. He loves that she can take any shape she pleases, be a bird or a fish or a snake when the moment calls for it. He loves the distance she can walk from him. He would not have her any other way. He cannot imagine her any other way.

i was always going to have witchers w separating daemons for this fic. however i got talked into the idea of witchers w mutable daemons by someone in a witcher discord I’m in... whoever you are I have forgotten your tumblr so can’t credit you for your idea properly sorry!!

i was originally reluctant bcos it seemed to me that mutable daemons implied innocence & youthfulness, which is kind of at odds with how witchers seem to be perceived. however following the above discord conversation i realised it can also imply 1) that witchers don’t really have ‘fixed’ personalities, which ties in with their supposedly not having feelings; 2) ‘innocence’ but in a negative way, in the sense of immaturity & not having a properly developed mind and sense of morality. 

obviously none of the above is actually true and witcher daemons are just shapeshifting adult daemons but, that is how people perceive it.

additionally, given how superpowered witchers are it seemed to fit that they would have found a way around all the weaknesses that having a daemon bring.

He knows that she loves him too. He understand why sometimes she despises him. He has cursed her, with his words and his thoughts, and she hates him for it. She has left him alone, and he hates her for it.

They say witchers feel nothing and they are not wrong. It doesn’t pain him when they are apart. He hasn’t felt that pain since he was a child. He barely remembers what it feels like.

She stops purring. Her breath puffs against his skin. “Stop thinking so hard,” she says. “Go to sleep.” Her tail has stopped twitching. “Go to sleep.”

*

“I think you and I might have got off on the wrong foot – as they say.”

this scene is supposed to take place offscreen shortly following the gutpunch haha

“White hair – no visible dæmon – two very – very scary looking swords – I know who you are.”

I don’t like when daemon fics recap entire scenes w the addition of daemons but I wanted to get this 1 change in so. here it is in a brief flashback. i elected to take out ‘big old loner’ bcos 1) listing 3 things is neater 2) I felt that not having a visible daemon would be a more notable characteristic for jaskier to point out.

not having a visible daemon is not necessarily a ‘tell’ that someone is a witcher or part of another demographic that can separate as people’s daemons are just out of sight sometimes.

It had surprised him, the ease with which that word visible had tripped off the bard’s tongue; that unhesitating acknowledgement that just because he couldn’t see something did not mean it didn’t exist.

He says, “hm.”

“Aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“No,” he says.”

“You can call me Jaskier,” says the bard. With a jerk of his shoulder he indicates the songbird-dæmon perched atop his lute. “This is Tansy.” The dæmon peeps a greeting. Receiving no response the bard goes on, “she’s a nightingale which I think is very sexy of her. You know,” he adds. “Because I’m a singer. And she’s a – a songbird.”

i realised while i was writing this that jaskier never actually introduces himself on screen. which seems like an oversight on the part of the writers tbh. means we can do what we want tho.

as i said in the a/n on the fic itself, I got the idea of giving Jaskier a nightingale daemon from two halves of a whole. usually I try and avoid just straight up copying other people’s form ideas but i just. fell in love with nightingale.

other forms I’ve seen for jaskier seem to tend VERY strongly towards birds which I find interesting! i’ve think I’ve seen maybe 1 daemon fic where he doesn’t have a bird daemon.

moving on to the name! this is tansy:

I do intend to get into this in potential future installments of the series, but Tansy is not her birth name (none of the main daemons in this AU use their birth names, completely independently of each other). she started going by Tansy relatively young and when he later changed his to match.

I think Jaskier settled relatively young - maybe 2 years before the time this fic is set - and being the overdramatic little punk he is hasn’t quite got over the ‘have i mentioned how cool my daemon’s settled form is today’ phase yet.

& finally before moving on, p much the first thing we learn about Jaskier & Tansy is that he is very happy and at ease with her and the form that she takes. this is important.

He grunts an acknowledgement – if only to get the bard to stop explaining.

“You’re not the best conversationalist, are you?”

A sudden tension, inside his chest. She’s close. He looks up and there she is, slipping into view on the clifftop.

“It’s just usually when you have a conversation you take it in turns to speak,” says the bard. “Rather than one person doing all the – oh.”

Dag makes her way down the ragged cliff, leaping from perch to perch in languid motions till her white paws touch the earth and she’s beside him. Stooping Geralt runs his hand over her head in greeting. Her eyes narrow.

this is another thing I have mentioned Elsewhere but i did fall in love w geralt’s daemon’s name in two halves of a whole (linked above) and went looking for something which had a similar feel to it. sorry.

i’m aware that Dag is technically a man’s name but given the kind of, inherent gender-bending nature of opposite sex daemons it seemed appropriate.

i confess i was also thinking of the dag in fury road.

seen a lot more variety in daemon forms for Geralt than jaskier! most common choices seem to be 1) wolf and 2) roach is his daemon. I’m really not into ‘existing animal companion as daemon’ bcos I’m firmly in the camp of ‘daemons as a manifestation of a person’s inner voice’ rather than ‘daemons as Companions’ so I can’t get behind daemon!roach (I actually find it actively offputting gfdlkjfskdh)

wolf is a p good fit imo but I find it a bit on the nose and I wanted to do something different. so. he is a giant kitty cat. & as someone (I forget who sorry) correctly identified she is leucistic rather than albino.

white mountain lions do exist but best as i can tell there’s like 1 photo on the entire internet. bummer.

He’s aware of the restlessly silent presence of the bard behind them shifting his weight, his dæmon fluttering about his head, aware perhaps that he’s intruding on something intimate.

Geralt straightens, and the bard takes that as his cue to begin again. He clears his throat and says, “what can I call her?”

It’s been a long time, since anyone has asked for her name so brazenly; in fact he isn’t sure anyone ever has. Geralt shoots the bard a look.

“Well, you must call her something,” he says, unintimidated.

“I do,” says Geralt. “You don’t.”

The nightingale-dæmon, now resting upon her bard’s shoulder, is eying Dag curiously, but she’s cautious enough not to approach.

one thing I’ve noticed when re-reading HDM is that characters very rarely refer to other people’s daemons by names, even when they know them. generally i’ve loosely kept to this in my own daemon AUs bcos 1) i find that when fics us each daemon’s name every time i get a bit lost as to whose daemon is whose and 2) I like the idea that using someone else’s daemon name is a very hm. intimate thing. hence geralt is reluctant to call tansy by her name, even though he knows it.

“Right,” says the bard. “Well, then.”

*

Come morning, Dag is gone, but not gone far. Out of sight, but not so far away he can’t feel her. She’ll come back when it pleases her.

He readies Roach for the path ahead, half-listening to the lilt of conversation that carries from the bushes; Jaskier’s voice, and the pretty voice of his dæmon.

The bard stumbles out into view, tousled and bleary from a night on the ground. “G’morning.” He ambles over to join Geralt.

i genuinely wanted to specify here that jaskier was having a piss in the bushes but i couldn’t find a way to get it in that didn’t seem kind of tasteless. that is what is happening here tho.

“What will it take to get rid of you?” says Geralt.

“My, someone woke up on the wrong side of the – ground,” says Jaskier. “More than yesterday. Where are we off to next?” He puts his hand on Roach’s saddle. Geralt swats it away.

“I’m going north,” he says. “You go wherever you want.”

“Maybe I want to go with you,” says Jaskier. In a flutter of wings his dæmon comes to rest on the pommel of Roach’s saddle, and he can’t shoo her away. He wouldn’t dare put his hands near her.

They say of witchers that they have no souls. They say their dæmons are something else, something monstrous. They say they have no respect for the great taboo. When they see him mothers’ dæmons snatch their children away.

“You don’t,” says Geralt.

“You sound awfully sure,” says Jaskier.

You don’t know what you’re asking for, Geralt wants to say. He doesn’t know how to say it in a way the bard would understand. He glowers at the nightingale-dæmon until she takes the hint and flies back to Jaskier’s shoulder.

He feels Dag before he hears her, the padding of her feet on the ground as she emerges from the bushes, the soft sound of her breathing.

Jaskier nudges him. “You don’t fool me,” he says. “You’re a big pussycat really. Don’t think I didn’t hear her purring all last night.”

did u know that mountain lions are the largest cat than can purr! here is a video of one purring. it’s very cute but also a little scary.

“You’re imagining things,” says Geralt.

“I absolutely am not,” says Jaskier. “She was practically shaking the ground.”

At that Dag actually laughs, a short and bubbling laugh of real amusement. Geralt shoots her a look. Jaskier is looking at her too, looking at her curiously, startled by this, the first human sound he’s heard her make.

Looking away from them Dag stretches out on the ground, lounging as if she has nowhere to be. Jaskier tears his eyes away from her and says, “is she always a lion? It’s just –” His dæmon pecks him hard on the neck. “Ow – it’s just I heard witchers’ dæmons don’t settle.”

He fastens the straps on Roach’s saddle bag, and his hands still. “They aren’t unsettled,” he says. “They’re mutable.”

“I don’t follow,” says Jaskier.

“They settle,” he says. “But they keep the ability to change, after settling.”

“Ah, I see,” says Jaskier, nodding. “But is she –” His dæmon fastens her beak around his ear lobe and tugs. “Ow – ow – alright – there’s no need to be like that,” he mutters to her.

“I’m leaving,” Geralt says. “As I said. Go where you please.”

The bard and his dæmon follow him north.

*

Chimney smoke rises down in the valley. He doesn’t know the name of the town.

Dag is waiting for him, draped in the branches of a tree. She’s been scouting ahead, or perhaps she’s restless, or perhaps both.

She yawns, showing off her teeth. “Did you lose them?”

“You know I didn’t,” says Geralt. He can hear Jaskier’s voice behind them in the woods, and so can she.

Her tail swishes. “Why not?” she says, and he knows at once what she means.

bouncing off what I was saying above re ‘manifestation of a person’s inner voice’. I like taking opportunities to show that a person & their daemon are 2 halves of the same mind.

“You know why,” he says.

“Tell me.”

And she says it in that particular tone, a tone with steel in it, and he has to answer. “He’s soft,” he says. “He’s young. What he’s asking for will break him. He doesn’t understand.”

“Hm,” she says.

“It’s best he realises sooner,” he says.

“You don’t know how soft he is,” she says. “You don’t know him at all.”

“You’ve seen her,” he says. “That’s what he is.”

Tansy is delicate – pretty – fragile. She weighs almost nothing. She comes close by him as few dæmons will and every time he tenses for fear that he might touch her, without meaning to – hurt her – break her.

u know that post about the person whose boyfriend was afraid of holding babies in case he didn’t know his own strength and accidentally hurt them? thats geralt.

Dag’s tail is moving in the air, no longer swishing, flicking in sharp, angry jerks. “We both know that’s not how it works.”

He knows what she’s thinking. It hangs between them, unspoken. Another little bird dæmon they had once known, a pretty, charming robin-dæmon who had melted away like smoke before his eyes.

I’ve only seen 1 daemon fic featuring renfri (and I don’t think it was strictly a conventional daemon au) and it gave her a shrike daemon, which i do think is fitting. however as w wolf for geralt I find it a bit on the nose.

additionally, giving renfri a daemon has the potential to kind of, shift things wrt the ambiguity of her character, so you have a choice to make wrt whether you want to shift it more towards ‘she’s outwardly scary’ or ‘she’s outwardly innocent’ and I went for ‘outwardly innocent’, in part so I could do this specific parallel but also bcos I just preferred that vibe.

i went for european robin bcos it’s a very nice match for renfri’s aesthetic, and 1) I’m a slut for aesthetics and 2) helps to make sure readers will know who this is about.

He might say don’t. Don’t make me think of it. But he doesn’t. This thing has been unspoken between them for so many years. He doesn’t know what will happen if he breaks the silence.

They’ve been on the road for five – almost six weeks. He’s growing used to the chatter and the birdsong. Jaskier hasn’t complained – hasn’t complained much – hasn’t complained as much as he’d expected, not even when his feet bled in his fancy shoes. He’s generous enough to share the coin he gets from playing. Geralt’s had worse travelling companions.

Jaskier blunders out of the trees. “There you are,” he says. “Trying to shake us?”

“Yes,” says Geralt.

Jaskier snorts, as if that’s a joke. He looks out over the valley, the distant strings of smoke hazy in the twilight. “Do you think they have an inn?”

“I don’t care,” says Geralt.

“I want to sleep in a real bed,” says Jaskier. “And I want a bath.”

“I’m not stopping you,” says Geralt.

“It’s going to be freezing tonight,” says Jaskier.

��I’m used to it,” says Geralt.

Jaskier nudges him. “C’mon,” he says. “You could use a bath yourself. I don’t like to say so, but you are a very – unusual smelling person.”

“You’ve said so several times,” says Geralt.

“Have I?” says Jaskier innocently.

“Yes,” says his dæmon.

“So I have,” he says.

“Go and find an inn if you want,” says Geralt. “I’m not stopping you.”

“Stop being ridiculous,” says Jaskier.

“I’m being ridiculous?” says Geralt.

“Yes,” says Jaskier. “Alright, how about this. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I can buy my own drinks,” says Geralt.

“But I’m offering,” says Jaskier. “A kind and magnanimous offer, out of the goodness of my heart. And also I think it’s going to rain and I want to get in doors, so stop being ridiculous.”

“Hm,” says Geralt.

They go to the inn. It’s begun to rain by the time they reach the town. Tansy hides herself away within Jaskier’s cloak. Dag doesn’t follow them down the valley, preferring to find a dry spot in the woods, preferring to avoid prying eyes.

The inn is crowded with people sheltering from the rain; two more strangers with hidden dæmons don’t get a second look. The rafters are lined with bird-dæmons, safely away from the crowd. Sitting alone in his corner he watches their movements, the beating of their wings. There was a time Dag might have changed her shape and joined them. A space like this is never comfortable for a large dæmon.

reading back over this story I think it’s hm easy to think of Dag as the Emotionally Mature one of them but she’s the one whose making a choice to like... hide from Regular People and has been doing it habitually for a long time, either by changing her form or just leaving him alone. 

Geralt & his daemon do this for a number of reasons I think, in part for practical reasons, but also because he doesn’t want people go be able to get a fix on what kind of person that he is, and on some level wants people to see him and be immediately repulsed by his not having a daemon... this is a self-destructive behaviour that Dag is an active participant in. stop it Dag you’re supposed to be the smart one.

There’s a bard playing, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd. He doesn’t sing as nicely as Jaskier. He’s made a poor choice of song, too, a quiet ballad, one of many about the beauty of the touch.

“Her hand upon my dæmon, the first in my life – it was like roses in the summer and I knew then she’d be my wife –”

1) i hate writing rhyming poetry and i am very bad at it. got away with it this time i hope bcos this is supposed to be kind of trite.

2) this is is what we call Planting. lol.

Jaskier pushes his way through the press back to their table. “As promised,” he says, sliding Geralt a mug of ale. Geralt grunts a thank you.

Jaskier sits, and regards him. Tansy flutters down to perch on the rim of his mug, dipping in her beak. Absently Jaskier strokes her downy back and Geralt tracks the tiny, intimate motion with his eyes. “Is this it, then?” says Jaskier.

one thing I was trying to convey throughout this fic is that spending time with Jaskier & Tansy is the first time Geralt has been around someone who has a Normal relationship with their daemon (as opposed to the ‘it’s complicated’ that geralt & dag have) for a long time and he’s very aware of the contrast. 

“Is this what?” says Geralt.

“Is this how it goes?” says Jaskier. “It’s just that I can’t help but notice there hasn’t been a lot of witchering.”

“That’s not a word,” says Geralt, and takes a draft of ale.

“What?” says Jaskier. “Witchering?” Geralt grunts. “Maybe I’ll put it in a song and get people saying it.”

“Don’t you dare,” says Geralt, and Jaskier laughs a little.

“Really, though,” he says. “Is this it?”

“How many monsters do you think there are in the world?” says Geralt.

“How should I know?” says Jaskier. Still perched on his mug Tansy whistles along with the ballad. A moment later Jaskier’s fingers begin to tap along. “What d’you do when you can’t get any work?”

“I make do,” says Geralt.

“Hmm,” says Jaskier. Sensing he isn’t going to get any meaningful answers – or perhaps just bored – his gaze wanders to the bard. For a few moments he listens quietly. “Have you ever done it?”

“What?” says Geralt.

“You know.” Jaskier ducks his head in the direction of the bard.

“Been a bard?” says Geralt.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” says Jaskier, mock-stern.

“No,” says Geralt. “Not like that.”

He’s had another’s hands on his dæmon, more than once. He and Dag have sworn to themselves: never again.

“Hm,” says Jaskier. “No. Me neither.” Again he strokes Tansy, perhaps imagining it.

Tansy is still whistling along with the bard, giving the final notes of the ballad a few extra flourishes, and Geralt catches himself thinking that she and Jaskier would sing it better.

*

“I’ll be having the bath first – if you don’t mind,” says Jaskier.

“Hm,” says Geralt.

“Though don’t think I’m going to let you get away without bathing,” says Jaskier. “I know what you’re like, and, and your aroma is really starting to bother me.”

“Hm!” pipes up Tansy in agreement.

“Find someone else to annoy, then,” says Geralt. He sits on the edge of the bed, still in his armour. Jaskier is meandering about the washstand, unfastening his doublet, restless as ever.

He tosses his doublet onto the bed, and looks Geralt up and down. “You’re not planning on sleeping in that, are you?”

“Maybe,” says Geralt.

“What, do you think the inn’s going to get attacked in the night by – werewolves, or something?” says Jaskier.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” says Geralt.

“I can never tell when you’re joking,” says Jaskier, and unlacing his undershirt as he goes he wanders behind the screen.

“I don’t joke,” says Geralt.

“See?” Jaskier’s undershirt drapes over the top of the screen. Tansy, perched beside it, tugs at it with her beak, neatening it up. “There you go again.”

one of the biggest (& most underrated imo) challenges when writing a daemon au is characterising daemons... they’ve got to be like, recognisably the same person as the character, but at the same time ideally their own entity with their own personality. i found Dag came quite naturally, probably bcos Geralt is a character who definitely hides a lot of aspects of his personality, but Tansy was harder.

i imagined Tansy being very quiet with people who aren’t Jaskier & also very much the ‘put your clothes away don’t leave them all over the floor’ type of daemon.

Alone – or what passes for alone – Geralt begins to divest himself of his armour.

Jaskier’s trousers appear atop the screen. A moment later there’s a gentle splashing of water. A sigh.

geralt is definitely not thinking about the fact that jaskier is undressing. nope. he is not thinking about the fact that jaskier is naked in the same room as him. this is of no interest to him at all. He Does Not Care.

“This soap smells like pig fat,” he remarks.

“That’s because it’s made of pig fat,” says Geralt.

“Well. Yes,” says Jaskier.

Tansy is looking at him curiously from atop the screen. Caught staring, she opens her wings and drops out of sight to join Jaskier.

“Does Dag not come indoors?” says Jaskier.

“Now and then,” Geralt answers, before he has fully processed what Jaskier said. His hands still on his armour. “When did she tell you her name?”

this is something I do intend to cover in a future fic but I also don’t intend for it to be especially dramatic

“A few weeks ago,” says Jaskier. “I didn’t think much of it. Why? Do you mind?”

“Yes,” says Geralt.

Behind the screen water splashes. “Why on earth would you mind?” says Jaskier. Geralt doesn’t answer. “Well – I suppose that’s another one for the list of things I’ll never understand about you – like your sense of humour, and why you spend hours talking to your horse when you’ve a perfectly good dæmon.”

an extra dimension of geralt talking to his horse in this au is that he is used to having his daemon there.

Rising, Geralt begins setting his armour on the chair. “She isn’t always there,” he says.

“Well, yes, but it’s not as if she goes very far,” says Jaskier.

“Sometimes she does,” says Geralt.

In a sudden fluttering of wings, Tansy reappears atop the screen.

“How far does she go?” says Jaskier.

“As far as she pleases,” says Geralt.

A gentle sloshing of water. Tansy turns on her perch, peering down at her bard, something wordless passing between them. “Does it,” says Jaskier. “I mean, do you – I don’t know how to ask.”

“Spit it out,” says Geralt.

“Can you still feel her?”

“Yes.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No.”

so this scene is (obvs) a kind of a call back to That One Bath Scene in canon. this is the first time they’ve been hm ‘domestic’ together and it’s a little awkward, especially for geralt, who is not used to it. all of which is in contrast with how comfortable they are around each other later.

& this is the most frank (probably) conversation they have over the course of the entire fic and it happens when they are physically screened from each other. and also jaskier is literally naked while geralt is opening up to him. this is all very notable for obvious reasons I hope.

“I see,” says Jaskier, though Geralt doubts he does. It’s difficult for humans to get their heads around the way he and Dag experience the world. Most aren’t interested in trying.

geralt here actively ignoring the fact that jaskier is making an effort to understand

He hears the water moving, and the padding of Jaskier’s bare feet on the floorboards. His clothes are whisked back down from the screen and half a minute later he emerges, his hair towel-damp. “All yours,” he says.

Geralt sits in the still-warm water, and soaks, and listens as Jaskier putters about on the other side of the screen, getting ready to sleep, listens to the steady back and forth of his conversation with Tansy. He hums, and she whistles along.

uh so if you’re an introvert I imagine you’ve probably had the experience of being Alone and Unobserved for the first time in an uncomfortably long time... i have this experience every day when i leave work fjgksfkgjfg

tansy & jaskier talk p much non-stop when they’re (semi)alone

When at last, the water cold, he ventures out from behind the screen, Jaskier is on the bed, scribbling something down in his little book.

“You can have the bed,” says Geralt. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Jaskier shifts over towards the wall. “We’ll both fit. I don’t mind if you don’t.” He glances up from his writing. “Though just to warn you, I’m reliably informed that I kick.”

“He does,” says Tansy from the headboard.

The room smells like candle smoke, and pig fat. The scent of the outdoors still clings to them to their clothes, to Jaskier’s hair. He sleeps facing the wall, the warmth of his body pressed to Geralt’s side. Tansy sleeps with her head tucked beneath her wing. Geralt lies awake, listening to Jaskier’s breathing.

geralt is not affected by this situation at all. he is not even a little bit uncomfortably attracted. nope. nuh-uh.

they don’t ever share a bed in the show but i gather it’s a normal thing to do in the books so for the purposes of this fic, this is a thing that it later becomes normal for them to do.

He mumbles now and then in his sleep. And true to his word, he does kick.

*

Morning comes grey, but dry. They eat breakfast in the tavern. Jaskier chatters, about the weather, the food, the song he was writing in the evening. Geralt tunes him out, and lets his eyes roam over the other patrons. His gaze falls on a pair of old men smoking long pipes. They’re looking at him, at the absence beside him, the empty space he occupies. Caught staring they look away.

Jaskier pokes his arm. “Are you listening to me?” he says.

“Hm?” says Geralt.

“I said you’re even more sullen than usual this morning,” says Jaskier. “What’s got into you? Trouble sleeping?”

Geralt turns his attention to his porridge. “You kick.”

“I’m aware,” says Jaskier. “I did warn you. Well, I dare say –”

A woman is approaching their table, purposefully, stoically. Geralt recognises her attitude. Jaskier is savvy enough to guess.

“You’re the witcher?” she says, as if it’s a question. Her dæmon, a large, horned beetle, clings silently to her sleeve.

always hard w daemon AUs to strike a balance between making it clear to the audience that everyone in this world has a daemon & including superfluous information about daemons who aren’t relevant to the story. originally didn’t include this woman’s but then decided I didn’t have enough background daemons.

this is something i actually paid a lot of attention to while reading the secret commonwealth bcos i wanted to see how pullman handles it.

additionally I think insect daemons are under-represented in daemon au fic so I have been trying to get in as many as I can.

“Well, he’s a witcher,” says Jaskier. Geralt nudges him to be quiet.

She says, “my sister has a job for you.”

*

The wind is picking up. The day is getting thin. Ahead, on the hilltop, the dark outline of a hay barn, stark and flat against the grey sky.

He dismounts, and ties Roach to a tree.

“Is Dag not joining us?” says Jaskier.

“She comes and goes as she pleases,” says Geralt.

“What, did you two have an argument or something?” says Jaskier. Geralt grunts. “Did you? About what?”

“You,” says Geralt truthfully, and Jaskier laughs as if he’s made a joke.

Dag is in the air somewhere above them. Irritated with him as she may be, she hasn’t gone far, this time. She’s watching the valley, her keen hawk’s eyes searching for any untoward movement.

He starts to climb the hill. Jaskier makes to follow. Turning Geralt holds up a hand, halting him in his tracks. “Stay with Roach.”

Jaskier adjusts the strap of his lute. “I can handle it.”

“This won’t be pleasant,” says Geralt.

“Honestly,” says Jaskier. “How do you expect me to write about all this if you never let me see anything?”

“I don’t,” says Geralt.

“Anyone would think you didn’t want me to immortalise your deeds in song,” says Jaskier.

“I don’t,” says Geralt.

“It’s stifling to my creativity, not to mention rude,” says Jaskier. “And wholly unjustified. I have a strong stomach.”

Wavering, Geralt glances at Tansy, on Jaskier’s shoulder. She hms in agreement. He drops his hand. “If you’re sure.”

In the doorway of the hay barn Jaskier turns his face away and retches. “Oh gods,” he moans. “Oh heavens. Fuck me –”

“Go and wait with Roach if you want,” says Geralt.

One hand braced against the door frame, the other over his mouth, Jaskier looks at him. He takes his head from his mouth. He shakes his head. Tansy flutters in the doorway, from the shadow to the light, and resolves. She flies into the barn, up, up to the rafters, and there looks down upon the bodies.

This is where they have brought their dead, this most remote outpost of their village, with the spiders and the rats and the dust. They brought the bodies here, a dozen or more of them, and piled them up, meaning to burn them, meaning to burn this lonely place to the ground.

They’re unmarked. The air is thick with the smell of death. The most recent lies near the door, her eyes open, staring up at the roof. She’s young. Her hair is fair. She’s dressed in an apron, as if she’d just stepped out of her kitchen – to the water pump, perhaps – when she was attacked.

One death such as this, two, they’d bury. This many, in as many days, they know what haunts them, and they fear it like nothing else.

“What killed them?” says Tansy from the rafters.

“Hm,” says Geralt. He crouches to look at the dead girl, to be sure there are no marks on her, as the village healer had said. Taking off his gloves, he touches her face, tilting her head towards the light.

why does geralt take off his gloves. bcos later i had a scene where he’s washing his hands and then it was pointed out to me that he normally wears clothes and so wouldn’t need to. shush.

It isn’t his place to interfere with how these people treat their dead; but this isn’t right. There’s nothing to fear here. They are only dead. The danger, the thing that killed them, has passed. There’s nothing to be gained in consigning their dead to this bleak, anonymous fate.

A scuffling, above. Tansy moving on the rafter.

“Geralt?” says Jaskier. “What killed them?”

“Shh.”

Geralt glances up, at Tansy. She’s perched quivering on the rafter. “What is it?” he says.

“Something moved.”

tansy being a very hm fastidious sort of person translates to being quite perceptive

“I didn’t see anything,” says Jaskier.

“You weren’t looking,” says Tansy.

Geralt rises. He reaches for his sword.

The barn reeks of death. In the semi-darkness he had taken it for one of the bodies piled around it. It’s rising now to its feet, its movements stilted, unnatural. You might take it for a lumbering thing, a slow thing you could outrun. You’d be wrong.

Tansy takes flight, flashing in and out of the light from the doorway, and as she does so it begins to move, crawling forward over the piled bodies with the speed of a darting insect, snatching, grasping at the air above it. Jaskier cries out. “Run!” Geralt barks, raising his sword.

this whole scene was hard for a number of reasons... firstly i don’t know a lot about witcher monsters and spent a while trying to find one that fit the kind of scene I wanted before saying ‘fuck it’ and inventing my own

and secondly I don’t know about anyone else but uhh whenever i want a story to include an action scene in my head it’s just like ‘and then a fight happens!!’

+ w this one as well as planning out the fight i had the extra issue of, how it manages to get hold of Tansy which I. hope i explained satisfactorily. 

The sight of silver gives the dæmophage pause. It halts, its eyes wide and staring, its shoulders heaving. It’s a fluid creature and it no longer needs its human disguise. Its limbs stretch, its spine bends at an unnatural angle, its slit nostrils flaring. It has no mouth. It has no need of one. Frost spreads from its fingers, coating its hands and arms, the bodies beneath it, the packed dirt floor.

He’s aware of laboured breathing behind him. He’s aware, suddenly, that Jaskier has not run. He risks a glance over his shoulder and sees him pressed to the far side of the door frame, gripping the wood with one white-knuckled hand. His other hand is held, clenched, to his chest. The colour has drained from his face.

“Run,” Geralt says. “Run!” Still Jaskier doesn’t move, and stepping back, not taking his eyes off the dæmophage, Geralt reaches blindly behind himself, finds Jaskier and shoves him backwards.

He resists, and in that resistance Geralt feels what has happened, feels it before Jaskier lets out a pained sound, before he says, choked, “Tansy.” For it’s not the resistance of one who doesn’t want to go; it’s the resistance of one tethered, of a tied-up dog trying to run from a fire.

The dæmophage is crawling forward again, one-handed. It’s holding something in its other hand, in a hand thick with ice. He can’t see what it is. He knows what it is. “Geralt –” Jaskier wheezes, and whatever he means to say next he can’t find the breath.

There are many vile ways to die, in the world. Few worse than your dæmon becoming meal to a creature like this, the life crushed from it, your soul slowly, torturously drained away.

He takes off the dæmophage’s arm first, the arm that holds Tansy, and its whole body jerks spraying dark blood across the walls, across the bodies. As its severed arm hits the ground its fingers fall open and he sees her, a fistful of icy brown feathers, but there’s no time to dwell on her, no time to dwell on if he was fast enough, if there is anything left to save. The dæmophage lashes out at him with its other hand, with its sharpening claws; he dodges, swings, and its arm falls to the ground, cut at the elbow.

It takes two strikes to cleave off its head. Its body remains half-upright, swaying, blood bubbling from its neck. He stands over it, sword raised, breathing hard. They’re fluid creatures. Half-shadow. You can never be sure.

It falls. It is still. He lowers his sword.

Behind him Jaskier falls heavily to the ground. Geralt turns to find him on his knees, shuddering all over, gasping, but still conscious, his eyes alert. He slumps forward, catching himself on his hands, and empties his stomach onto the dirt.

“Tansy,” he croaks. “Oh gods, Tansy –” He sees her, still in the dead creature’s hand, melted frost dripping from her feathers. He tries to rise. His legs won’t hold him.

She had been in its grip less than a minute. It must have felt like an age. Geralt is surprised he didn’t faint. Perhaps he’s made of sterner stuff than he looks.

so I don’t imagine this being as much a matter of Inner Strength as much as (as established early) Jaskier & Tansy having a very close and intimate bond, which in turn is a reflection of Jaskier being at ease with himself and the kind of person he is. 

in short this isn’t a matter of jaskier being like, exceptionally brave so much as being like ‘hey! don’t you dare! fuck you!’

Stepping closer Geralt takes his arm and heaves. “I told you to wait with Roach,” he says. But the look Jaskier gives him, of mute, numb disbelief at his coldness, silences any further reproach.

He hauls Jaskier to his feet, but Jaskier tugs his arm from his grip. He wipes his face on his sleeve and staggers forward, falling to his knees once again beside her, reaching for her with shaking hands.

When he picks her up he lets out a gasp of relief – or terror – it’s hard to say which. She doesn’t respond to his touch. She lies limp in his hands.

Jaskier looks up at him, and voice unsteady he says, “she’s cold.”

*

He sets the barn alight. By the time he’s done it’s growing dark, and the wind has died away. He leaves it to burn on its hilltop, to be sure the creature is dead. He’ll tell the villagers to come back when it’s burned to the ground, to take the bones of their dead and bury them properly. They’ll do it, if not for the right reasons.

The barn is a red-orange blaze in the distance. Down in the valley there’s a chill in the air. He can see Jaskier’s breath, though it’s not cold enough for that. He hasn’t stopped shaking. Geralt builds a fire, so he can warm himself, and sets about fastening the dæmophage’s head to Roach’s saddle.

“Geralt, she’s still cold,” says Jaskier. He’s kneeling too close to the fire, Tansy clutched to his chest, hidden in his cupped hands. He’s stripped off his filthy doublet, dark with the creature’s blood. “Geralt. Geralt. She won’t wake up.”

 i don’t know if it actually makes sense for jaskier to have got blood on him but listen i will take any excuse to have him take his doublet off bcos i’m just into it.

“She’ll wake up,” says Geralt.

“Are you sure?” says Jaskier.

“Hm,” says Geralt. He isn’t sure. You can never be sure. But if it had drained enough of the life from her that she was beyond waking, Jaskier’s mind would have broken. She’d be fading away. She was in shock. That was all. She’d wake.

If he’d been fast enough to kill it, but not fast enough to save her – he’d seen it before. He’d seen men and women, their minds broken into icy fragments, spending their last days terrified, in pain, alone. Unable to understand what had happened to them. Sometimes it was more merciful to let the dæmophage finish its meal, and kill them outright.

Not this time. He’d been fast enough.

“She – she won’t wake up, Geralt, she –” Jaskier breaks off in a ragged gasp. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Give her some time,” says Geralt. He fetches a blanket, and tosses it to Jaskier.

Jaskier doesn’t take it. “I can’t wake her up,” he says. “Geralt, what do I do?”

“Stop panicking,” says Geralt.

It’s no good. Jaskier understands what he’s saying, but he can’t keep his thoughts straight long enough to act on it. His mind is clouded. Where his connection to Tansy should be there’s nothing but confusion.

this was a fun opportunity to get a little bit into how the connection between a person and their daemon works :3

“I don’t know what to do,” he says. “I can’t think – Geralt, I can’t –”

His name falls again and again from Jaskier’s lips and it carries a silent plea. Help me. Do something.

He doesn’t know what to do. Or rather he knows what he ought to do, to offer comfort and warmth until this passes, but he doesn’t know how.

If he had seen it sooner. If he hadn’t let Jaskier talk him into taking him into danger. If he’d been quicker, smarter, harsher.

Tansy will get better. Jaskier will walk away from this.

double meaning in ‘walk away from this’ as in ‘survive this’ but also ‘will walk away FROM GERALT because of this’

Tension, behind him. He feels her long before he sees her, long before she ghosts into the firelight on owl-wings. She lands and with a soft rushing of air she’s herself again. Jaskier falls silent, startled at seeing her change, though he knew she cold.

“Jaskier,” she says. “Do you trust me?”

Half-watching, Geralt sees him nod.

“Put her down,” she says.

Jaskier hesitates. “But –”

“I know what I’m doing,” says Dag. “Put her down. Let me see.” Again he refuses, a wordless stammer of protest. “Jaskier. You’re panicking. Breathe deep. Put her down.”

Jaskier lays Tansy down. His hands are still shaking, but his breathing has slowed. That’s something. “What’s happening to her?” he says. “It hurts –”

He’d known it must. But Jaskier hadn’t said so, to him.

Dag noses at Tansy’s tiny, limp body. She licks her, once. “She’s just cold,” she says. “She’s just fainted. She’ll be fine.”

The back of one hand pressed to his mouth, Jaskier sobs.

“Shh,” says Dag. “Jaskier. Be calm.” Then she ducks her head forward, and touches him.

She touches her head to his face, nuzzling him, and at that contact a tremor goes through Geralt like a static shock. It’s only for a moment. Jaskier jerks away from her, as one would if a dæmon came too close by mistake.

this scene was inspired a bit by the part in The Subtle Knife where Pantalaimon physically comforts Will bcos he doesn’t have a daemon to comfort him. Obviously Jaskier does have a daemon, but he’s experiencing her being unconscious while he’s awake for the first time, making him essentially bereft of her.

He turns to look at Geralt, standing by Roach, no longer pretending he isn’t watching this. Their eyes meet. Geralt says nothing. Does nothing.

Jaskier turns back to Dag. Her eyes are lidded. Gingerly, Jaskier raises a hand to touch her. Geralt should cry out stop. He should go over there and drag them apart. He doesn’t.

Jaskier runs his hand over her head, the touch barely-there, just enough pressure to be felt through her fur. Geralt feels that touch like a gentle nudge somewhere within his ribs. It doesn’t feel bad.

He can feel, somehow feel birdsong in that touch. He can feel silk, and music, and laughter. It feels like the smell of perfume and candle smoke. Polished wood beneath his fingers. He’d had another’s hand on Dag before. It did not feel like this.

and THIS description of what touching (or being touched by) a person’s daemon would be like was inspired by how it’s depicted in Disciples of Apollo which is an a+++ daemon AU you should read if you like daemon stuff regardless of whether you’re a fan of M*A*S*H or not... please read it it’s so good.

He wonders what Jaskier feels, touching her.

i do intend to cover this. eventually. if i ever get around to writing more of this series.

Jaskier runs his hand over Dag’s head a second time. She purrs, low and deep in her chest. On the ground, Tansy gasps for breath.

my intention here is that Jaskier’s distress is part of what’s keeping Tansy from waking up, but then as long as she’s unconscious he can’t calm down, so by acting as a kind of stand-in daemon for him Dag is helping him Chill The Fuck Out sufficiently for Tansy to pull herself together.

“Tansy.” Jaskier’s hand falls from Dag’s head, and he reaches for her. “Oh gods, Tansy –” He cradles her in his hands. Her whole body is trembling.

“Jaskier,” she says, and at the sound of her voice all of his breath leaves him, his shoulders shaking, limp, weak with relief. He kisses her, holds her close by his face. Neither of them speak.

Geralt looks away. He meets Dag’s eyes, and she holds his gaze. He understands why she did it. He wouldn’t take it back. He’d do it again, and again. He still doesn’t like it. Dag turns away from him. She lies down beside the fire.

He tucks the blanket around Jaskier’s shoulders, and Jaskier murmurs thanks. He sits. He cleans his sword. The air smells like smoke. They shouldn’t linger here, in the dark. Jaskier’s breath is still fogging the air.

“We should go back to the village,” he says.

“Okay,” says Jaskier. Unsteady on his feet, he levers himself upright with one hand, the other cradling Tansy to his chest. “Okay.”

In the village lights are still burning in the windows. Geralt unties the dæmophage’s mouthless head.

“Should we,” says Jaskier, “talk about this?”

“Hm?” says Geralt.

“You know what I mean,” says Jaskier. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” says Geralt, and taking the creature’s head he marches away.

“I’ve heard of mixed signals,” calls Jaskier in his wake. “But this is ridiculous!”

am not actually 100% happy with this part, i wanted to get this line in but i couldn’t get it to mesh w the tone of the scene

*

The village is too small for an inn, but as well as coin the monster’s head earns them a bed for the night in the alderman’s house, and an invitation to dinner.

The monster’s head, and perhaps Jaskier; Jaskier, whose boyish smile and pretty dæmon had charmed the alderman and his wife at once, Jaskier, who had come back from the hunt pale, and shivering in a way they must recognise.

geralt thinks Tansy is very pretty. that’s just how his tastes run and he genuinely has no idea that most people don’t think nightingales are like, notably pretty.

There’s only one bed in the room they’re given but the alderman’s daughter makes up a cot. He tells Jaskier to take the bed. Jaskier doesn’t argue. Jaskier says nothing at all.

Since his outburst when they reached the village he’s spoken only to say yes and please and thank you. He lies upon the bed, staring at the ceiling, one hand stroking a slow, contemplative circle on his own stomach. Tansy sits on the pillow beside his head, plucking at his hair, grooming at him like a mother cat with a kitten.

Geralt washes the dæmophage’s blood from his hands. It has dried into the creases in his palms, under his fingernails.

“Will you come to dinner?” he says.

“Not very hungry,” says Jaskier.

Stretched out upon the cot, Dag raises her head. “You should eat,” she says.

Geralt sees her indoors so rarely. It takes him off-guard, sometimes, how large she is compared to human things. The alderman and his family must have been startled, to see him go on a hunt without a dæmon and return with one, but they had said nothing about it.

i did not mention that dag is in this scene before she speaks to emphasise that her presence indoors is unusual and unexpected. i am very smart.

She lies alert, tail flicking, watching over Jaskier.

His hands don’t feel clean. He washes them again. “You’re quiet,” he says.

“Hmm?” says Jaskier.

“Are you alright?” says Geralt.

“Since when do you care?” says Jaskier. “I thought you wanted me to shut up.”

“What will it take for you to give me some peace?” he had said, more than once.

“Hell or high water, probably,” Jaskier had answered, sunnily smiling.

If he hadn’t been fast enough. If the creature had taken something that could not be brought back – the light in his eyes. Warmth. A smile he’d never see again. Not like this. He didn’t want it like this.

once again double meaning re geralt thinking that jaskier is going to leave him because of this

He leans heavily upon the washstand. He breathes out. He’d been fast enough. Jaskier was shaken. That was all. He’d be fine.

“I’m just,” says Jaskier. “Thinking.”

“What are you thinking about?” says Geralt.

“What’s it to you?” says Jaskier. A moment’s quiet, and he says, “why don’t elves have dæmons?”

this is my no 1 issue w this fic (which i am otherwise happy with), I really wanted to get this conversation in but wasn’t quite sure where to put it. originally i was going to include it much earlier, and have it be in response to meeting the elves, but i couldn’t get it to work with the pacing and i needed something for them to discuss here so. here it is. i’m not 100% sure it works. i think i understand why jaskier is bringing this up now but i’m not sure how to describe it properly.

The question jars him. It’s like something a child would ask. Why it’s on Jaskier’s mind now, of all times, he can’t imagine. “You know why.”

“I want to hear what you have to say about it,” says Jaskier.

“It’s the way the world is,” says Geralt. “Humans have dæmons. Elves don’t. Others don’t.”

“You’re not human and you have a dæmon,” says Jaskier.

“You know why,” says Geralt again. He can feel Dag’s stare on him, accusing, but he can’t help his frustration. He has the sense that Jaskier is goading him – or trying to catch him out in a lie. He doesn’t know what Jaskier wants from him.

“Do you think it’s lonely?” says Jaskier.

“Being an elf?” says Geralt.

“Mm,” Jaskier agrees.

tbqh it’s just occurred to me now as im re-reading it that part of this is jaskier obliquely asking geralt about his own feelings about having a daemon.

Geralt begins to dry his hands. “You can’t miss what you never had.”

“I don’t know,” says Jaskier. “I miss all sorts of things I’ve never had.”

Geralt waits for him to expand on that thought. But he’s lapsed back into silence. “Elves find dæmons distasteful,” he says. “It bothers them. Like seeing someone with their insides spilling out. They think half-elves born without dæmons are stronger for it.”

At that, mystifyingly, Jaskier laughs a little. “Hear that, Tansy?” he says. “Maybe I would have been stronger if I didn’t have you, like a half-elf. What do you think?”

gjlkghjklghdfj i had so much trouble w this line bcos my beta fully believed that this was jaskier professing that he was half elf so i had to re-write it and somehow at least one reviewer has still thought that was the implication... he’s 100% not half elf in this AU sorry. if i ever get around to writing the sequel it will be evident that he’s not half elf (or like if he is he has no idea) 

Tansy clicks her beak. “I think you’d miss me terribly,” she says. “Even if you’d never had me.”

His hands are dry. He stops running the cloth over them, and sets it aside. “Dag’s right,” he says. “You should eat.”

“If you insist,” says Jaskier. “Where are we going next?”

Geralt turns to look at him. He’s gazing up at Tansy, running a finger over her neck. “After dinner?” he says.

“Tomorrow,” says Jaskier. Geralt says nothing, but his silence must speak for itself, for Jaskier looks at him and says, “don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily.”

“Why?” says Geralt.

“I’m a glutton for punishment, I suppose,” Jaskier says. “Anyway. I’m working on a song and it isn’t finished.”

“Hm?” says Geralt.

Jaskier’s gaze drifts back to Tansy. “Still needs an ending,” he says.

i wasn’t sure how to end this story and this last line is very cheeky eheheh. i can do what i want.

thank you again for requesting!! i hope u enjoy this commentary. it has been a fun diversion. i’m very pleased w this fic and i love talking about daemon AUs. <3

#witcher daemon au

[franeridart]

Anon said: Um so hello, I’m just here to say keep up the awesome work, I love your kiribaku art and it’s adorable and I go on binges through your blog (omg I sound so creepy I’m sorry I just love ur art so much) and it makes my day so yeah please keep drawing!

Ahhhhh you don’t sound creepy at all, don’t worry!!!!! Thank you so much for liking my stuff that much!!!!!!! <3<3

Anon said: May ask what kiri///mina would look like in your style? You don't have to draw it if you don't like the ship.

Gosh sorry but I really really don’t ship it!

Anon said: you know how I miss?? your OCs!!! they're the cutest!!

AWE thank you so much!!!!!!! I have a few comics planned for them, hope I’ll manage getting to them soon enough!!! (oT^T)9<3

Anon said: This is so sappy but some of your kiribaku posts really make me really appreciate long relationships! I’ve always found pining and crushes the cutest bc it’s full of intense feelings, but you portray being in love and accepting each other so well!! it’s amazing how you show characters interacting with each other and being so comfortable instead of worrying about hiding part of themselves and long story short I love your art and ideas so much

This ask!!!!!!!!! means the universe!!!!!!!!!! to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so glad I can manage portraying love in such a way, I’m so in love with the idea of open, accepting love, andI try seriously hard to make it look healthy in my comics so!!!!!!! thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have no clue how many times I’ve reread this ask I’m not even exaggerating TT^TT <3

Anon said: I just want to start off by saying you’re my favourite blog on tumblr, your art is incredibly adorable and always makes my day!! I was just wondering how you were able to create your own unique art style? It’s something I’ve been struggling with a lot lately with my own art. Any advice is appreciated, thanks for everything you do!!

I think it’s about finding the right spot between what feels comfortable for you and the end you’re using your art for? In my case what’s comfortable is something fun and smooth, and the main end has always been to be able to draw comics - I’ve always liked comics because I like writing and I like drawing, but my attention span was too short to manage finishing them, and the way I had of drawing was too stiff to properly convey emotions the way I wanted to, which made drawing comics sound like an impossible dream haha I fixed it by simplifying my style, by taking away or reducing to the bare minimum everything that took me ages to work out/draw and pushing my expressions and body language to extremes to make up for the lack of details. 

That’s just my experience with it, though! The best advice I can give you is to sit back and look at your current way of drawing from an objective perspective - do you enjoy it? Is the process of drawing something you’re comfortable with? What’s uncomfortable in it for you, and in which ways could you change it to make it comfortable and fun? Does your current art style allow you to do what you want to do with your art? If you want to paint, does it allow you to paint in an easy and fun way? If you want to make comics, does it allow you the range to properly portray a character moving and living without making you wish you’d never started drawing halfway through it? 

Imho the first step to find a style that’s your own and feels right is to find a style that’s fun to use and doesn’t stress you to hell and back every time you pick up your pencil. This is easier to do the more things you attempt, so for a bit being inconsistent in style is a good and normal thing - try things out! The best one for you will definitely stick in the end. And if you already feel comfortable with the way you have of drawing, then hell! You already have a style that works for you! Just because to you it doesn’t look unique and special it doesn’t mean that it isn’t - if you asked me to point out what makes my style unique I wouldn’t be able to tell you either, the way I see it my style is the most uninteresting and common-looking style out there. To be honest with you that’s probably just how it is for every artist out there hahaha

Anon said: Hi!! I love your art and just want you to know I always get a big, stupid smile on my face whenever I see you cross my feed, whether it’s something new or a reblog of an old post. Everything you do is just amazing and I love it

AHHHHHHH Thank you so so much!!!!!!!!! (TT^TT)<3<3<3

Anon said: Hey Fran! First off, thank you for the Fire Force art. I remembered to actually check it out, after seeing it lol. Second, I still can't find your Fatgum 😭😭 the link didn't give any, and searching on your page didn't help either. I WILL FIND IT ONE DAY

I think it’s a problem of the app orz I can see him just find from desktop but the app can’t find him either T-T stupid app!

Anon said: Do you have a mini Bakugou and Kirishima living in your head? Are they just living their lives up in your brain and that causes your hand to to write and draw the most perfect and accurate things? Of course mini Kaminari, Sero, Mina, Jirou, etc. also come to visit your head hole from time to time and just chill with mini Baku and Kiri. That’s the only logical explanation on how all your Bakushima content is so inconceivably spot on

That’s such a kind thing of you to say, anon!!!!!! I’m glad you find them that IC!!!!!! I try my best, but sometimes I admit I just have them do and say stuff I’ve done and said myself, the only difference is that I word things in a way that feels right for their usual way of talking hahaha

Anon said: I personally would love to read your essay on why bakugo is the best character ever because I really really really want to love him that much but i feel like there's something that I'm just not getting about him- there's something I'm missing about his personality (keeping in mind that i kinda left the manga after the whole mirio/8 precepts arc). I've always found bakugo compelling and would love love love to read your take on him! Hope you have a great day!

Bakugou has had some amazing character development scenes after the overhaul arc!!!!! He’s outright shown he understands where he was lacking and where he was wrong, that he’s perfectly capable of working in a team and letting people help him and helping them in return, that he cares about his class and how the rest of the world sees them! (and that he worries/cares about how the world sees him too, actually, that broke my heart a bit ;; ) We haven’t seen him in a hot minute by now, but most of anything before the current arc has had him improve and develop and become even better than he already was -  I’ve always thought him a good guy with just a lot of troubles relating to the world around him due the way he has been brought up as special and different (it creates a drift between yourself and the rest of the world when everyone around you keeps treating you as if you were other - when you tell a kid he’s different and better for his whole life he’s bound to grow up believing it, after all), but if the problem you have with him is that he isn’t showing the good in himself plainly and obviously enough, then the arcs after the overhaul one are gonna help you like him better, definitely

Well, the thing about Bakugou is that he’s not a plain/obvious character, so you need to think about his actions and his words a bit more, and can’t just take him at face value - it’s what I like about him, actually! How much you need to think about him to figure him out on a deeper level than just the surface one. Since I dunno why you like him and why you feel something’s missing, I can’t tell you specifically what it is in the way I see him that completes him for me, but as I said I try to keep him as IC as I can so probably reading my comics about him might help you understand the way I see him. To me Bakugou’s honest, and kind, and loving, but he’s also arrogant, and angry, and used to taking some things for granted, and I like how all those things work with and against each other in his character. He’s at the same time incredibly proud and absurdly insecure, and I like that about him too - where each comes from and where and how they clash, I like the complexity it gives him. I like that he’s a people person in the sense that he likes having people around himself, and I like that at the same time UA is the first time he’s had actual, honest to god best friends, and how that means that he’s gonna be awkward when usually he’s so sure and proud simply because he isn’t used to having people he actually specifically cares for, I very much like that about him. I like that he overthinks everything he doesn’t immediately gets, I like that he still acts on instincts more often than not, I like that somehow with him those two aren’t mutually exclusive. I like that he’s smart and still so damn dumb, I like that he’s just as simple-minded as he is an actually labyrinth in thought process, I like how one-track minded he is even on the most silly things - how once he sets his eyes on a goal he goes for it like his life depends on it. I like that he’s barsh and rude and impulsive in what he says and does, but when he fucks up he knows he fucked up, and he backstracks, and he does his best to make amends. I like that he sits in stupid ways and has the worst posture in the class and then he wears his hero costume and suddenly he’s a model on the catwalk, that’s so damn endearing to me. I like how ridiculously hyperbolic he is and how he just assumes people will get it, get what he actually means, like there’s a point between his brain and his mouth were things get blown out of proportion and he doesn’t even realize it. There’s just so many things to love about him, for me!! 

But most importantly I like that he started as low as he could get and that because of it his plot is a one way towards the summit. I like it. I like watching a character grow and every new chapter become a better version of themselves, I love it. Ultimately that’s probably why he’s my favorite, after all haha

Anon said: Hi, this isn’t a question but I just wanted to say how much I love your art and the way you clearly appreciate Bakugou as a character. So many of my friends hate him, but I think he has a lot of depth and so much potential. Your art always makes me smile! Thanks for doing what you do. :)

THANK YOU and thank you for liking the boy too!!!!!!! He deserves it, he absolutely does deserve it!!!!!!! <3<3<3

Anon said: I just went digging in the archives of my blog (which is.. a mess) and found some old art of yours (like... I'm talking bokuto and kuroo level old) and g o s h. I already loved your art so much then and I still do n hhhhhhhh u go. U great.

Gosh you’ve been around a long time then!!!!! Thank you so much for sticking with me all this time!!!! ✨o(TT0TT)o✨

#fran answers #long post #sorry for disappearing on all of you btw!! #some of you might know already but i've spent most of the last week consuming stuff more than producing it haha #sometimes i need that too