#for realises though i cannot stop thinking about The Implications.

[spacelesscowboy]

fabian aramaris seacaster son of bill seacaster is so special to me.

#i can't stop thinking about him he is everything to me for real. (<- NOT LYING.) #do maids dream. toxic masculinity is dead i dance now. him getting pneumonia. being so so so cool and so so so lame at the same time. #lou wilson i think i'm in love with you. please call me. #KSDJFSLDKJF #emyrs.txt #for realises though i cannot stop thinking about The Implications. #(<- tgwdlm ref. btw.) LMFAO. OK BYE #d20 #d20: fantasy high

[norinenglish]

Stardew Rancher AU - Intro cutscene

Here's my first piece for the Stardew AU challenge.

If you want to take part too, use the #traffic stardew au tag (You can also use the banner I made). On my blog, I will be using #stardew ranchers au as well.

The writing is under the cut.

>> Next Part

I hate this life.

Jimmy doesn’t remember a day in the last year he has not thought this. He’s staring at a computer screen, as he has been for the last seven hours, when it hits him. He hates this life. In fact, it could barely be qualified as a life. 

He misses nature. Running around in the grass, playing, talking to people… He turns his head around to look at the window, but there isn’t even any on the office walls. He looks around him and only sees rows and rows of cubicles with other lifeless people slaving all day. The clicking of keyboards and mouths, the buzzing of the neon lights, it’s all too much.

I can’t stand it anymore, he thinks to himself. I need a way out.

Suddenly, he remembers a conversation he had with his grandpa, when he was young, about the burden of modern life. He hadn’t really realised what it had meant before today. Jimmy, like his parents, had dismissed it as the stubbornness of an old man who was made to live in the countryside. But it must have stayed on the back of his mind, because he kept the letter. 

In fact… 

He opens the drawer of his desk and there it is. A fancy old letter with a fancy purple seal. 

(He’s definitely not going to think about the fact that he kept it in his drawer at work and the possible implication of that. Nope.)

With shaky hands, he breaks the seal and opens it. The swoosh of the paper unfolding is the loudest sound he’s ever heard in his life. 

The letter says: 

Dear Jimmy, 

If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.

The same thing happened to me, long ago. I’d lost sight of what mattered most in life… real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong. 

I’ve enclosed the deed to that place… my pride and joy: The Ranch. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It’s the perfect place to start your new life. 

This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours. I know you’ll honour the family name, my boy. Good luck. 

Love, Grandpa. 

PS: If the Sherrif is still alive say hi to the old guy for me, will ya? 

He puts the letter down and looks up at the ceiling for a second. 

In all the emptiness he feels, it’s like he’s just grown wing. 

🌿 loading🌿

The bus startles to a stop and Jimmy wakes up. 

“Pelican Town!” The driver screams. 

Jimmy looks around. There’s no else on anymore. He quickly grabs his travel bag and gets out. He says his thanks to the bus driver who just hums unhappily. Guess he really didn’t want to go that far out for just one person. 

On the side of the road is just a small clearing, with broken fences and dirt path. Someone is waiting for him, though. A man with cyan blue hair and an easygoing smile. 

“Hello, you must be Jimmy,” he sayswith a cheerful voice. “I’m Scott, the local florist. Mayor Grian sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He’s there right now, tidying things up for your arrival.”

It takes a second for Jimmy to find his words. The reality of what he’s done hitting him finally. He quit his job. He moved out of his appartment. He sold his things and bought a ticket for this small town in the middle of nowhere to become a farmer. 

“Nice to meet you, Scott,” he says after swallowing. “I…”

Gosh, he cannot screw this up. This isn’t like in the city. The people he meets are going to be the community he’s going to live with. He wants to make a good impression. 

Scott smiles, tilting his head to the side. He looks Jimmy up and down with mischief in his eyes in a way that makes Jimmy blush a little. He must be tired. 

“The farm’s right over here, if you’ll follow me.”

Jimmy nods and follows him on the dirt path until they reach an area with a… house. Supposedly. 

“This is the Ranch,” Scott announces, waving his arm around to show the land that stretches before them.. 

The Ranch is an old building made out of wood. It looks like it’s been built in the last century. The farmland around, which was included in Scott’s gesture, is littered with some kind of forest. There are different types of trees, dead wood on the ground, bushes, and even some rocks! Is this really the farm his grandfather loved ? 

“What’s the matter?” Scott asks in a light voice. He’s got his arms crossed in front of him and an air of challenge about him. “Sure, it’s a bit overgrown, but there’s some good soil underneath that mess! With a little dedication, you’ll have it cleaned up in no time.”

He turns back towards the house itself. Jimmy notes that there’s plenty of firewood on the side of the house. Someone must have stacked it for him. That thought settles in his chest, fluttering like a bird. He won’t sleep in the cold tonight, and that’s thanks to strangers. 

“... And here we are, your new home,” Scott says. 

Just like his words summoned him, a man opens the door and gets down the few steps of his porch to stop in front of them. He pulls the sleeves of his red sweater back to his writs and offers his hand to Jimmy. 

“Ah, the new farmer! Welcome, I’m Grian, the Mayor of Pelican Town.”

Jimmy shakes his hand and introduces himself. Grian nods, seemingly satisfied. 

“You know, everyone’s been asking about you. It’s not every day that someone new moves in. It’s quite a big deal.” He turns to look back at the house. “So… you’re moving into your grandfather’s old cottage. It’s a good house… very ‘rustic’.”

“Rustic?” Scott chimes in. “That’s one way to put it… ‘Crusty’ might be a little more apt, though.”

“Rude,” Grian says under his breath, his eyebrows frowning. “Don’t listen to him, Jimmy. He’s just trying to make you dissatisfied so that you buy one of Gem’s house upgrades.”

“Gem?” Jimmy asks.

“She’s the local carpenter. She lives north of the valley, near the mountain.”

Gem, the local carpenter. Jimmy tries to mentally catalogue. She makes house upgrades.  He turns his eyes towards Scott. He doesn’t remember if he said what he was doing. 

“Anyway… You must be tired from the long journey,” Grian says, looking back at the house. “You should get some rest. Tomorrow you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that.”

He turns to leave and sees the box placed next to the mailbox. 

 “Oh, I almost forgot. If you have anything to sell, just place it in the box here. I’ll come by during the night to collect it. Well… Good luck!”

They are gone before Jimmy can really say anything else. But it might be for the better, because he’s exhausted. 

“I’m here,” he says to no one. Maybe to himself. Or maybe to his grandfather. 

Going into the house is a blurr. He barely have time to register the small table with one chair, the fireplace that was lit up for him and the bed. He just melts into the mattress and passes out.

#norwrites #traffic stardew au #stardew ranchers au #trafficblr #team rancher #jimmy solidarity

[vigilskeep]

sorry if you've gotten an ask like this before, but imagine your hawke and warden (any of your choice) got flipped, how do you think they would get along w the companions from the other game? and in general how would they do and feel in the position of the hof/champion, hypothetically?

i just love hearing about your characters ngl i really want to put them in situations

LOVE asks like this pls put my guys in situations

keir as the hero of ferelden... i guess not totally unreasonable, he did fight at ostagar, duncan could’ve picked him up (read: pried him away from his family with the right of conscription.) he’d get along with alistair well enough, though it might take him a minute to warm up to him for near-templar reasons. wouldn’t get along too well with leliana or wynne, and wynne would leave the party after he defiled the sacred ashes, leliana only staying via an intimidation check which is a thing you can do if she’s hardened iirc. fuck the chantry he’s gotta get them reaver powers. not much patience for oghren. would do well with sten, shale, zevran. would kill loghain, no doubt abt that. and honestly, i’ve said before that they maybe had a thing in lothering, keir would romance morrigan and do the dark ritual with her (suddenly just realised the hilarious implication that kieran’s name is loosely inspired by keir possibly in the normal worldstate as well). keir would be fairly bitter about the whole thing and abt the wardens, and his priority would still be finding his family and (if only by virtue of stopping the blight) keeping them safe. he would put alistair on the throne alone, not hardened

it’s harder to see how minerva would become the champion, but if she wasn’t the hero i guess she could end up as an apostate and maybe wind up in kirkwall fleeing the blight like everyone else. if she had the relationship hawke has w varric they’d get along like a house on fire, i’m trying to find a normal way to say she loves when people are obsessed with her AGHASJSKSKK. i cannot imagine her talking to sebastian. minerva and aveline in a room would not go well. she would rival fenris but like still a close important relationship but that means even more tension. friendship with anders but she wouldn’t distract the grand cleric for him even if she would support him in the end; she doesn’t act if she doesn’t know what’s going on and she doesn’t appreciate being asked to let alone what she sees as the attempted emotional blackmail. easily friends with isabela and definitely sleeps with her regardless of romance choice, that happens in dao anyway lmao. friends with merrill, would be such an interesting way to explore minerva’s growing confidence in blood magic. i’m honestly undecided on romance—isabela hits a lot of the same beats as zev’s and thus makes sense for her to go for, merrill would be incredible for her as dalish love interest for minerva makes me insane conceptually let alone a fellow blood mage, fenris would be kind of an unhinged choice for, you know, noted blood mage, but also it’s a different flavour on fen rivalmance because of the shared heritage and i know she’d be into him and like... the drama of it all... anyway minerva would love gaining power in kirkwall as the champion and would lean ambitious, maybe even try for viscount even if it was impossible because of who she is. and in the last straw would be mad at anders for going behind her back—significantly more mad than she is in the canon situation where she is generally highly supportive, actually, because she was right here anders we could have fucking talked abt this and planned ahead—but she’ll support him when it comes to it and she’d never let anyone lay a hand on him

#keir hawke #minerva surana

[swanmaids]

if our deed faileth

in the early days of himlad; celegorm, curufin, and his wife have another vow to make. 

tw: discussion of suicide and infanticide, implications of rape and torture

1.8k words. 

By the time Curufinwë manages to get his son to finally stop begging for more stories and go to sleep, back in his living quarters his wife and brother have made their way through a carafe of one of Carnistir’s better reds, and have their heads together in deep conversation. 

“Hello, darling”, Meletyë stands up to kiss him on the cheek, “the little tyrant finally nodded off?” Her voice is light, but she isn’t smiling. Her face is downcast. 

“Yes, though it took a fair bit of effort! You’re on bedtime tomorrow- I hope you’re ready with a lot of stories. But enough about me. You look troubled- what’s wrong?”

His brother sucks his teeth. “What do you think? For a start she’s worn out from dealing with our dear brother. As am I, for what it’s worth.”

He should have suspected. Maedhros- not Maitimo, not anymore- left for Thargelion that afternoon, but hosting him for the past two weeks while he surveyed their defences to report back to that usurper Nolofinwë has been…taxing. Putting aside the ludicrous insult to Father’s memory, that they should be forced to pretend his little half-brother is their king, the Maedhros who returned from Angband is almost unrecognisable from the Maitimo who entered it. 

It’s not that Curufinwë isn’t beyond grateful to have his brother returned alive and mostly in one piece (though the evidence of his torment is written on his very face), and the same goes for Tyelkormo, he knows. It’s only…Maedhros didn’t come back quite right. He saw strange visions, and heard voices when none spoke, and was liable to fall into rage or despair. It had made for an exhausting fortnight. 

“I understand. But we’ve got the place back to ourselves now, I think we’ve earned a little rest. Pass me a cup, brother?” 

Tyelkormo does. “That’s not the only thing. Seeing Nelyo got us thinking- about Angband, about what they really did to him there”, he says slowly. 

Curufinwë shudders. “Please, must we? Can we not have one evening where we don’t think of such misery?”

“Brother, you know I’d agree with you. But we got to talking, and I realised we don’t actually have a plan if this all goes up in flames.”

“What are you talking about?” Curufinwë asks, genuinely confused. “All we’ve been discussing for the past two weeks is how to defend this place.”

Now his wife joins in. “How to defend it, yes. But what will we do if we fail?”

“Then we will fight, and we will survive, or die in battle, or die as captives. But as long as the siege continues to hold, and the Pass does not fall, that won’t happen. I still don’t understand why it needs discussing.” Curufinwë is not often out of the loop in conversation, and it leaves him feeling wrong-footed and disorientated when he is. 

“That’s the thing, Curvo”, she says quietly. “I don’t think we would die as captives. The Lords and Lady of Himlad, and our child? We’d be valuable prisoners in that place. How did your brother survive so long on that cliff? They must have done something to him there, so he couldn’t die. So they could keep on doing whatever they wanted to him. If they capture us, we’ll end up like the thralls or worse. Somehow I don’t think anyone will want to pull off a heroic rescue for us. And it’s not just the three of us anymore. What will become of our son in that place?” Her voice trails off to a near-whisper, and her eyes are wide and pleading. 

He feels a cold fist of fear clench around his ribs. He has an awful feeling that he knows what she is not saying. How did the discussion come to this point- how have the three of them reached such a low?  “Melya- our son will not ever see that place. But in such an event, what other choice do we have? To slay each other? I cannot conceive such a thing. And not for Tyelpë!” He snaps, only realising he is shouting on the last word. 

Tyelkormo puts his cup down on the table, hard. “Pray tell me, then, what you think the alternative is?” He snaps back.

“You cannot surely mean to convince me to slay my wife. My son!”

“And what do you think Morgoth’s forces will do to your wife and son? I shall tell you. First they will spirit your son away to an orc-mother, to be reforged into one of their spawn. Then they’ll throw your wife to their most depraved thralls and make you watch-”

Melya visibly flinches backwards.

“Shut up!” Curufinwë snarls. “You’ve made your point.”

“Have I? Because if I have, you should be unable to consider letting them take you alive. Let alone your family. Have you paid no attention to Nelyo this past fortnight- nay, since his return?”

Curufinwë presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Tyelpë is just a babe”, he rasps. 

“I know.” His wife agrees, “And that is why he can never see Angband.” 

He looks up to meet her eyes, and sees that she is silently weeping. 

All three are silent for a very long moment. 

“Such a situation will probably never arise,” Tyelkormo says slowly, “The siege is strong, the enemy’s forces are depleted. Our troops are bringing us back more orc heads each week. It is only if all the forces in Eä are against us that we should have to do this thing. But we must still be prepared for that possibility.”

Melya dabs her eyes on her sleeve. “Tyelpë is just a babe”, she echoes. “Mandos will have pity on him, even if he has none for us. He will be cared for. Morgoth certainly will not care for him. If the choice is Mandos’ Halls or Morgoth’s, then to Mandos he must go.”

Her voice breaks. She puts her head in her hands. Curufinwë moves to put his arm around her and kisses her hair. As they have talked he has turned the problem over and over in his mind, looking for a hidden out, a third way, anything, but he cannot see it. This is the world that they live in. This is the world that they have bought a child into. 

“Tyelko,” he croaks. “If this accursed time you speak of should come. My wife and I may not be able to…hurt our son. You know I do not wish to ask this of you, but…”

“I’ll do it”,Tyelkormo replies shortly, “Eru help me, but for you, my brother, I’ll do it.”

“And you know how to- he won’t be hurt?” Melya asks, voice smaller than Curufinwë can remember ever having heard it. 

“He won’t even feel it. I promise you both.”

Curufwinwë and his wife nod. 

“And then we’ll all help each other,” he concludes. 

All three nod once more.

“Wait,” Melya says. “If this evil should indeed occur, and your oath is not fulfilled, what will happen to you then?”

His clever wife. Always thinking through every possibility, even in something so awful as this. Then the everlasting darkness is our lot, he had sworn. How naïve he had been then. To think that he truly believed he knew pain, knew terror. 

“If the three of you are gone from me, then the Void I will welcome”, he says finally. He closes his eyes.

“We should not swear to this, I do not think,” his brother mutters, “but I propose we cut our hands and mix our blood so we know ourselves that we are committed. And no word of this shall leave this room.”

That, he can certainly agree on. 

Melya unsheathes a small dagger from her belt with a ringing metallic sound. He opens his palm, as does Tyelkormo, and she makes a small cut on each before slicing her own. The knife is so sharp it does not even hurt. Curufinwë presses his palm to his wife’s, then his brother’s, and then the two of them seal their hands together too. Then once again silence reigns in the room, which feels at once too large and unbearably constricting. 

“I’m going out”, Tyelkormo says abruptly. “And I hope against hope that we shall have no cause to speak of this again”. He turns to leave, and the slam of the door echoes in the room. 

Curufinwë is suddenly overcome with the need to hold his wife, to be held by her in return. He clasps her in his arms and buries his face in her shoulder, and weeps openly as she does the same. They stand together in silence for several minutes, or maybe a whole Age, he cannot be sure. 

“I want to see our son”, she whispers finally as she pulls away and he wipes away the last of her tears. “I need to see him now.”

He understands. His need is the same. 

Hand in hand, they walk silently through the corridors to the nursery, the only sound their boots padding across the carpeted floors. The bedroom of the smallest Lord of Himlad is soft, warm and safe when they reach it, with nothing hinting at the horrors plaguing the minds of his parents. 

Tyelpë’s night nurse greets them. “My Lord, my Lady, is something wrong-?”

“A moment alone with our son, please.” Melya says crisply, and the nurse drops a quick curtsey and leaves. 

Curufinwë stares down at Tyelperinquar. His beautiful, miraculous little boy, his most precious treasure. His son is sleeping soundly curled up on his side, thick eyelashes brushing his cheeks, chubby hands scrunched into fists. His heart aches. 

“Do you ever think,” Melya whispers, “how is it possible that someone so perfect can exist in this world? How did two such as us create someone so whole and good?” She turns away from the cot so that her tears do not splash onto her son and wake him. 

Curufinwë swallows down the aching lump in his throat. “All the time”, he replies. “All the time.”

By mutual silent agreement they turn to leave, closing the door as quietly as they can and waving his nurse back inside. 

Curufinwë turns to face his wife and clasps her hands within his own, still stinging from the mingling of their blood. “Melya, I swear to you. I’ll never, never let anyone capture him or harm him. For as long as I live, I swear I’ll keep him safe.”

An Age later, as he watches Celebrimbor through the tapestry of Vairë in horror, Curufinwë will realise just how awfully right he turned out to be. 

#i...am so sorry #my post #my fic #curufin #celegorm #celebrimbor #curufin's wife #ruindis #my ocs #silm fic #the silm

[etenvs3000w23]

Unit 6: Nature Interpretation Through History

"There is no peculiar merit in ancient things, but there is merit in integrity, and integrity entails the keeping together of the parts of any whole, and if these parts are scattered throughout time, then the maintenance of integrity entails a knowledge, a memory, of ancient things. …. To think, feel or act as though the past is done with, is equivalent to believing that a railway station through which our train has just passed, only existed for as long as our train was in it."

(Edward Hyams, Chapter 7, The Gifts of Interpretation)

Unpack this quote.

The first thing that came into my mind when I read this quote, was an entirely separate quote, that quote being:

“We must learn from the past or we are doomed to repeat it.” 

Following this, I suddenly realised I had no idea who said this quote, when it was spoken, and where. So of course I googled it. According to google, this quote is credited to two separate people. The first is George Santayana who said “Those who cannot remember the past are conedemned to repeat it” in his book The Life of Reason. However, Winston Churchill is also credited with a similar quote: “Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” Similarly, Edward Hyams more complex quote states that “(to) act as though the past is done with, is equivalent to believing that a railway station through which our train has just passed, only existed for as long as our train was in it.” What all these quotes have in common is one singular theme: history is important and we cannot simply pretend it did not happen for our own selfish needs.

I think this message is especially important now, in a day in age where so many decisions are being made by people who don’t wish to confront our history simply because it makes them uncomfortable. One of the most engaging portions of the textbook this week was the section on interpreting history titles Controversy. It's no surprise why this is the most engaging section, as controversy is everywhere these days. You can’t turn on the news, access social media, or turn on the radio without hearing some form of controversy happening around us. The textbook briefly discusses how controversy surrounding historical figures who conducted horrible actions or had problematic views are often interpreted differently based on the audience. The example they used was Christopher Columbus, but he is far from the only controversial figure discussed in modern times from new angles that puts their actions in an almost centrally immoral position, which juxtaposes their previous heroic status. 

The most recent example that comes to mind is the renaming of Toronto Metropolitan University (formerly Ryerson University) after the discussion of actions taken by the school’s former namesake clashed directly with the university’s current values and stated mission statement. The decision to change the name was not taken lightly, as the student-led initiative expectedly received pushback from those who didn’t see the point in renaming the school. Except there was a point. In refusing to acknowledge Ryerson’s actions which we now consider not just to be wrong, but immorally corrupt on every level, it shows an ignorance to learn from the past and a lack of integrity for refusing to see the whole picture as Edward Hyams suggests in his quote. When someone says we should stop teaching about the Holocaust or American Slavery because it makes some people uncomfortable or makes certain groups look bad, they are completely missing the point. If the interpreter isn't making you uncomfortable discussing these histories they are doing their job wrong. The point is not to simply learn about history, but to learn from it, specifically the moral implications of the events so we do not repeat them ever again. Even if repeating dismal histories seems to be occurring more and more lately.  

‌

  Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage : for a better world. Sagamore Venture.

Clairmont, N. (2013, July 31). “Those Who Do Not Learn History Are Doomed To Repeat It.” Really? Big Think. https://bigthink.com/culture-religion/those-who-do-not-learn-history-doomed-to-repeat-it-really/

‌“Those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” Winston Churchill. (2020, May 15). Medical Confidence. https://www.medicalconfidence.com/blog/those-that-fail-to-learn-from-history-are-doomed-to-repeat-it-winston-churchill/

Toronto university changes name amid controversy over Canadian educator’s legacy. (2022, April 27). CBC. https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/ryerson-toronto-metropolitan-university-1.6431360

‌

#wildlife #conservation #nature #animals #naturalist #writing

[wambs]

Thinking about the differences between Roman suggesting marriage to Gerri, Connor proposing to Willa, and the two Nero scenes between Tom and Greg. The IMPLICATIONS. Only one of those ended well. Only one. Tomgreg is literally taking years off my life 😭

i have gone into more detail about the conwilla vs tomgreg proposals, so I'm going to focus on roman. and yeah, the romangerri proposal does have the same business angle the italian tomgreg proposal seems to have, but what i actually cannot stop comparing it to is the romantabs proposal. because tom is asking greg to stay with him first and foremost. and in the romantabs one, tabitha realised this, roman's overwhelming feeling of loneliness, is what their proposal is about straight away. does greg realise that as well?

the nerosporus proposal vs the italian proposal. they are both so different. but even though nerosporus was a failure, tom still thinks it's a good idea to reference that in his next one? it really isn't because even though it ultimately ends in greg saying yes, it does not look like he is going to agree at the beginning. tom calls him sporus, says he will need greg to be his attack dog, and greg visibly does not want to do it. but a promise of becoming more equal, of being taken care of no matter what, changes his mind. because that's what marriage is really about. becoming equal. for better and for worse.

#thank you #xx #anonymous #answered #tomgreg #sccsm

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 5 - Accidental Confession / In Vino Veritas (Drunk Confession/Drunk Dial)

Unrequited love? Bite me

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x GN!Reader

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Rating: Teen and up

TW: Drinking/alcohol, language, vampirism/blood mentions, FWB mention

AN: Day 5 of @tropetember. Not my best work but hope you enjoy. Might rework this slightly at a later point.

A visit to the Salvatores in Mystic Falls should be pretty fun, until Damon decides to drag you to a party the Originals are throwing.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Damon, you cannot be serious.”

Your best friend just gives you puppy dog eyes. Bright blue and sad as can be. It’s kinda pathetic.

“Pretty please.”

You huff, knowing you won’t win this argument. You’ve known him since you were both children, through him being turned by Katherine and later Stefan turning you (long story), and then on and off in the intervening century and a half. You even had a casual friends with benefits arrangement when you were both lonely/bored. Knowing him so well, you decide to save everyone the time and give in.

“You’re paying for my outfit Damon! I can not believe you’re making me go…”

He scoops you up and spins you, making you squeal as he thanks you. Stefan, who has been observing from the couch being absolutely no help, just laughs.

“You won’t regret it. It’ll be fun and we can learn some things at the same time. We’ll be the most attractive spy duo in history.”

You just roll your eyes and go to grab your keys before stealing Damon’s wallet. If you’re going to have to face the Mikaelsons again, you weren’t doing it in something you’d worn before. And you were going to buy something expensive out of spite.

------------------

The entrance to the Mikaelson’s house was the same as any other house in Mystic Falls: opulent, excessive and with far too much marble. You’d take a cosy cabin over this nonsense any day.

Clinging to Damon's arm, you enter the space and, thankfully, Klaus is the only one of the family greeting guests.

“Darling, it’s been a while.” You can’t help the reactionary smile as you embrace him. He could be bat shit crazy at times, but he’d always been kind to you.

“Klaus! I’ve missed you.” Out of your eye corner, you can see Damon giving you both evil eyes. Had you accidentally on purpose forgotten to mention you knew the original family? Oops, your bad.

Klaus doesn’t let you go far, holding you at arms length to admire your new outfit. You do look stunning in it, if you do say yourself.

“Beautiful.” He leans in to whisper in your ear “My brother really doesn’t realise what he’s missing.”

You laugh him off, ignoring the implication. You knew better.

“Now boys,” you say, glancing between them, “I’ll have no part in whatever this little competition or measuring contest is, and I expect you all to leave me out of it.” They both look a little guilty as they nod. “Marvellous. If you need me, I’ll be somewhere out of the way with a glass of champagne.”

And with that you head further into the party, leaving them to bicker.

-----

"Urgh, I've missed you so much! I can't believe you left us."

You and Rebekah are both waaaay too many glasses of champagne deep at this point. You’d been there a couple of hours by now and it had only taken Rebekah 30mins to realise you were there and take you hostage. You're currently sequestered on a sofa in a corner and are both a bit sloppy.

"What do you want me to say Bekah? It's your arsehole brother's fault."

"Wait, what? What did Klaus do?"

You laugh, just a tad hysterically and fortify yourself with another sip out of your glass.

"Wrong one. Go older"

A look of understanding comes across her face and she wraps an arm around you. You, sadly, don't have enough of your wits about you to realise that this isn't the best place for a drunken heart to heart.

Everything starts to spill out of you. How you and Elijah had spent so much time together. How you thought he liked you back, only for him to turn up with what's her name wrapped around him. How he'd laughed when you'd expressed your surprise that he was dating, and how it made you feel like nothing. It was too much for your heart to handle. So you’d left, had a fun rebound weekend with Damon and tried to move on.

Rebekah pulls back slightly, wiping a tear that had escaped without your permission.

"You're too good for him anyway," she says and you laugh.

"I wish that were true.” You pull yourself together a little and put on your best fake smile. “For now, I'm just going to don an air of indifference and pretend I'm not in love with your oldest brother."

Your mirth leaves you instantly as you hear a refined voice behind you ask, "now why on Earth would you do that?"

It’s amazing how panic can sober you up.

You turn slowly and meet the eyes of the oldest Original. He’s in a suit, as always, and has a confident smirk plastered across his face. That pisses you off.

“Cos he’s an asshole” you coolly reply before turning to Rebekah, pressing a kiss to her cheek and walking swiftly out of the room to find Damon to take you home. You’d embarrassed yourself quite enough for one night.

You’d never admit that you were disappointed that Elijah didn’t try to stop you.

------------

One of the advantages to being a vampire was that you very rarely got a hangover. Instead, you just slept in a little, made a cup of coffee and did some yoga before heading out to treat yourself to lunch. You didn’t need to eat but you enjoyed the taste, there was much more variety in food than blood.

You'd only arrived in Mystic Falls a couple of days ago for your visit to see the Salvatore brothers and as such hadn't had a chance to try out the Mystic Grill. This seemed like a perfect fit opportunity. Something greasy would be perfect right about now.

The grill was a bit dingy but it worked for the place and you were happy to learn that they have a pretty good menu selection. Your excitement was soured though when Elijah decided to join you for lunch.

Dressed in yet another suit, no tie and the top buttons of his shirt undone, he oozes charm and money. Add in the handsome features and knockout smile and you were lost. You're sure back in the day the ladies with delicate constitutions had to keep their smelling salts close. You could easily have fainted over him.

But he wasn't interested in you, as he had made very clear, so you were just annoyed that he was existing in your space.

Elijah watched you eat for a few moments, clearly taking note of your reluctance to acknowledge him.

"For someone who's in love with me, you don't seem particularly happy to see me darling."

You groan quietly and lower your utensils. Wishing him away wasn't working.

"What do you want Elijah?" You sound bitter, even to your own ears. So much for attempting to sound neutral.

"One of my favourite people, who I haven't seen for a long time, has reappeared and I want to spend time with them. Is that too much to ask?"

You start eating again, using it to buy time. You had honestly missed his company. You just weren’t sure if you could bear him breaking your heart again, even accidentally and unintentionally. Luckily, he had more to say.

“Klaus told me off after you left, you know?”

You look at him in surprise.

“Told me that I’d wasted my best opportunity at happiness. Which is especially concerning considering who it was coming from.”

You nod your agreement. Klaus wasn’t exactly known for his sentimentality.

He continues, “would you believe that I really thought you were too good for me? That I really thought you weren’t interested?”

“Elijah, you can not be serious.” You pull a face at him. “I literally spent all of my time with you, hanging on your every word. I would have followed you to the ends of the Earth. How could you not have known?”

“I just thought you were being your usual effervescent self. I started dating again to try and let you go.”

Miscommunication. You shake your head. 30 years of heartbreak all because of miscommunication. God, you could bang the pair of your heads together. It’s basically a crappy romance novel. Ok, this is ok. You can fix this. You have pretty much forever left, after all.

Taking the initiative, you lean forward and grasp Elijah’s hand. His eyes fall to where you wrap your fingers around his. A hopeful look takes over his face as he returns to your eyes.

“Elijah?” You smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

He laughs. It’s a beautiful sound. You’re going to make it your personal mission to make him do it more often.

Lifting your knuckles to his lips, he places a gentle kiss on them.

“I can think of nothing else I’d rather do.”

#tropetember #fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the originals #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x you #miscommunication #tw: alcohol #unbeta'd #slightly rushed #in vino veritas

[dhwty-writes]

On the Benefits of Trancing

This is a bit late, but was in fact written for Day 2 of sgtober, Can't Sleep. It's very fluffy, have fun reading! 

Summary: There are several reasons why Essek prefers trancing over sleeping. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And no matter if they are foul or fair, they torture him all the same. And lastly, well—.Essek reminisces about the strange habit of sleeping and his even stranger habit of sharing his bed with Caleb whenever he can't sleep.

Warnings: None, as far as I’m aware

Read on AO3

Sleep is a curious thing, Essek muses, that he doesn't understand and hasn't particularly cared for up until this point. It is a childish thing, and wild and vulnerable and oh-so terribly time consuming. Truth be told, for most of his life he has pitied the other races who are forced to bow to the whims of nature in that way.

Like so many things, that changed when he met the Mighty Nein. Well, not when he met them necessarily—back then he may or may not have been quietly plotting their demise for returning his carefully stolen beacons—but certainly when he started travelling with them.

As many aspects of elven cultures are, trancing is a solitary activity, a silent contemplation of one's most private thoughts to better cope with them. Shock and surprise don't even begin to cover his feelings when Caleb first cast his dome and Essek found out that sleeping, as many things for the Mighty Nein, is a rather communal event.

He had eight whole hours to come to terms with those implications—did they not realise what it meant, the trust one had to place in another to sleep in front of them? Did they not care? Or did they, by some miracle, in fact trust him that much?

When he came out of his trance the next morning, he realised some of the members of the Nein had moved during the night, curling closer to and around each other. Cuddling, they called it, and Essek's pity melted away, turning into something more bitter, more poisonous. Envy.

There is something about sitting upright, floating a few inches off the ground while surrounded by people holding each other that can make you feel so incredibly lonely, and that has to say something. Nearly a century of solitude spent between too-large, too-empty towers, too-secretive and too-pious schools, and a too-scheming and too-paranoid court have never left him feeling as isolated and bereft as that morning with the Nein did.

Of course, back then he didn't have the words to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. Nor did he have the words to ask for them to include him in their affections, lest he be presumptuous. That, to quote Caleb Widogast, takes time. Surprisingly little of it, if he is perfectly honest.

A few months down the line, he stopped floating while trancing and when he resurfaced the next morning, he found himself leaning against Fjord, who had taken the last watch. When he jerked away in embarrassment, Fjord blinked awake, too, a disgruntled look on his face, growling that he should stop moving around so much.

Despite his shame, Essek complied and held completely still until the rest of the Nein woke up. After that, he began to dabble into the casual intimacy his friends share. He even tried to sleep, occasionally.

In the beginning, he felt very self-conscious about it. He would wake up with messy hair, or drool on his pillow, or, worst of all, tucked close to Caleb. Another effect of the Mighty Nein, though, is that they very quickly rid you of your sense of shame. So, he no longer cares if he looks a mess, if his clothes are rumpled, or if he's getting spit on Veth's backpack. Just the last thing he can't help but feel embarrassed about.

There are several reasons why he still prefers trancing, though. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. He much prefers being able to watch over them for at least half of that time.

Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And if sleep is childish, wild, and vulnerable, dreams are tenfold so. He often contemplates his crimes during his trances, as well as the discarded timelines, the lost possibilities that could have led to even more death, destruction, and despair. He frequently considers members of the Assembly lording their victory over him, disposing of him, torturing his friends. However, in his trance, he can choose to abandon these timelines. Dreams offer no such luxury. Once in their cruel grasp, you have no choice but to see them through.

Nightmares are one thing, but dreams are another. Even the pleasant ones often come unbidden, worming themselves through his subconscious to pluck out— What exactly Essek should call them, he isn't sure. He wouldn't dare name them wishes or hopes, for that would imply a certain level of possibility for them to come true. These visions are desires, more like, though that term implies a certain passion that does not fit the circumstance.

These unsought fantasies often include the Mighty Nein, years or decades from now. How they would still seek him out, include him in their midst. He dreams of feasts and festivals, of hugs and humour, of truthfulness and trust. And then there are other, even more forbidden dreams featuring him and Caleb. He dreams of soft kisses and gentle caresses, lazy nights spent in the tower reading books, of research and adventures and normalcy, of waking up as close to each other every day as they do from time to time on accident. He would love his future to look like this, but he knows there is a very little chance for that.

So, no matter if the dreams are foul or fair, they torture him all the same.

And lastly, well—

There is a knock on his door and Essek's heart lurches. "Come in," he calls as calmly as he can manage, forcing himself to slowly close the book he hasn't been reading instead of slamming it shut and scrambling to his feet.

The door opens silently, as all doors within the tower do, and Caleb slips inside. He's wearing simple sleeping clothes and Essek silently curses himself for already closing the book, so he can't even pretend to read that instead. "I, ah— I'm sorry for intruding... again," Caleb says, self-consciously tugging at his sleeves. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"Not at all," he answers, barely keeping himself from saying: 'I was waiting up.' Instead, he opts for: "I was still reading."

"Anything interesting?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you have stored uninteresting books in your mind, Caleb Widogast?"

"Plenty," he deadpans and Essek chuckles.

"It's called The Creation of Silver." He turns the plain cover over to Caleb, to jog his memory. Based on what he could gather by skimming the first pages, it promises to be a rather run of the mill romance novel following the story of a Dwendalian noble trying to escape their arranged marriage. "So far, I find it quite entertaining."

"Ah, yes." Caleb quickly glances away, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Have you reached the part where Stefan leaves for the city yet?"

"I have not."

"Then I will not spoil you." Another tug on his sleeve. "The plot really picks up at that point."

Essek tilts his head to the side, studying Caleb. According to the clock in his room, it is past midnight, which is quite late for the human to still be awake. Yet, he is just hovering in his doorway, caught between stepping inside and leaving again. "I presume you did not come here to discuss my evening reading matter."

"Ah..." He tugs at his sleeves again. "No, I did not." As always, Caleb is as incapable of voicing his needs as Essek is.

Thankfully, Essek is not nearly as apprehensive when it comes to his friends' well-being as he is when his own is concerned. "Should you have trouble sleeping, you know you are more than welcome to stay. Seeing as we are to make progress tomorrow, I am very invested in you having a restful night."

Not being able to sleep is another thing about that practice that Essek cannot understand. Trancing is a matter of will, discipline, and tranquillity and he's always assumed sleep to be the same. He supposes it is, to some degree.

But travelling with the Mighty Nein, and Caleb specifically, has taught him that you cannot force sleep. There are circumstances under which they will toss and turn for hours, unable to find rest. Not even Beau's meditation, which he considered relatively close to his trance, seemed capable to calm a disturbed mind enough for sleep.

He has, however, also discovered that for certain members of the Mighty Nein, certain methods will accomplish the necessary peace of mind. Caduceus' tea appears to be able to work miracles, time and time again. Beauregard likes to tire herself out by running drills, while Jester usually draws in her sketchbook. Yasha tends to make flower crowns or, lacking flowers, braid other people's hair. Essek has been subjected to that numerous times so far and despite his aversion to Dynasty braids, he doesn't hate it. Fjord usually ties sailor's knots, and Veth sorts through her various collections.

Caleb, though? Caleb, for some reason, only needs another person to fall asleep next to. And for some reason, despite the numerous options he has, he chooses Essek more often than not. Not that he's complaining, of course. In fact, he may enjoy it a little too much.

Caleb laughs quietly as he often does at their antics. They have long since learned the rules to this strange game they are playing. "Well, if you put it like this..." he says as he rids himself of his slippers—Hausschuhe, he has explained to Essek, a very important part of Zemnian culture—and puts them next to Essek's. "I would hate to disappoint you, Herr Thelyss."

'You couldn't,' he thinks as he pulls back the covers. Instead, he says: "Indeed." As always, he freezes in place when Caleb joins him on the bed, scooting closer until they are nearly touching. Being this close to each other is not getting any less mortifying, no matter how long it has been since Caleb first came knocking on his door.

He still remembers that night in vivid detail. As so often, Essek has been reading and just got up to get a cup of tea. When he stepped out of his rooms, he nearly collided with a wizard who had convinced himself that his suffering wasn’t important enough to trouble him with. “Do you want to come in?” he said to his own surprise. To his even bigger surprise, Caleb accepted.

They sat on Essek’s couch and talked about everything and nothing at once. Hours later, with his throat gone dry, Essek asked: “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” The moments the words left his mouth he knew he’d said something wrong.

Caleb shot to his feet as if burned and Essek followed suit. “I am so sorry, friend. I will not continue to disturb you any—”

“Where are you going?” he interrupted him, perhaps a little irritated. “Give me some credit, Caleb Widogast; I am capable of far subtler ways to rid myself of an unwelcome visitor. Which you are not.”

He laughed self-consciously and said: “Regardless, I should go and rest. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss.”

“You could stay,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean—I noticed your sleep to be more restful when you are around others. I am aware that I am not your first choice, but since the others are not here—You’re welcome to stay, if it at all helps.”

Caleb hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Certainly.”

“In Ordnung,” he answered finally. Essek is still glad he had thought to float for that conversation. That way, at least, his knees didn’t give out.

A short discussion about who should take the bed followed before they stubbornly agreed to share it. Essek came to regret that immediately after when he was confronted with the practical implications of ‘sharing a bed’.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. Caleb took some time to rearrange the pillows and blankets—just like he does now—while Essek hovered nearby. Literally.

It took several reminders from Caleb for Essek to not instinctively recast his floating cantrip, but eventually they managed to lie down next to each other with a minimal amount of awkwardness. They have moved past that initial apprehensiveness by now, Essek thinks while he pretends to read. Shortly after, Caleb flops down, close enough that Essek can feel his breath ghosting over his cheeks.

“Good night, Caleb Widogast,” Essek says, stubbornly staring at the pages and nowhere else. "Do you want me to dim the lights?" He doesn't need them anyways; he just likes to appreciate the room Caleb made for him in all of its colours.

"No, I think I would like to read a bit. I am quite fond of that book."

"You are?" Essek looks down to him in surprise. ‘If Caleb tilts his head,’ the thought hits him, ‘he could rest it on my shoulder.’ He just thought it to be one of the countless books Caleb has read in his life, nothing special. "Why?"

He blushes again. "Ah— I think you'll see. The title is more literal than one would assume."

He considers the book once more, trying to discern what Caleb means with his words. ‘Luxon help me,’ he sends a silent prayer. It wouldn’t be the first time for him to pick up a romance novel that turns out to be quite a bit more explicit than anticipated. To think that such a mistake may have happened to him with Caleb so close—He thinks he might just combust from embarrassment.

"Do you mind flipping the page?" Caleb asks with a yawn, startling Essek out of his thoughts.

"Oh, of course," he says belatedly and turns the page. He hasn't read the last one yet, but nor has he read the one before, so it hardly matters. The novel has a rather shallow plot, so he has no trouble picking it up three pages later, and he's done so by design.

“Thank you.” He yawns again, louder this time and burrows down further into his pillows. “Gute Nacht, mein Schatz,” he mumbles and freezes as if he only now realises what he said. He seems to wait for an answer, but when Essek fails to provide a wrong one, he just smiles up at him and says: “Schlaf wohl und g’sund, bis morgen früh’s Kaffeele kommt.”

“I don’t understand you,” Essek tells him just as quietly, “but you can translate tomorrow.” After a moment of hesitation, he adds in Undercommon: “Sweet dreams, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He quickly glances back at his book before he can do anything stupid. Such as regret his words. Or kiss him goodnight.

Still, with Caleb reading along he does his best to at least somewhat read the novel. It’s a very flowery language, occasionally dropping Zemnian words Essek doesn’t know. Judging by Caleb’s grumbling at least some of them appear to be wrong. The protagonist, Stefan, seems like quite the bore. He does have a strong motivation, he supposes, to escape from the dreary life that awaits him in his arranged marriage. Besides that, and his general cold-hearted demeanour, he can’t discern any defining characteristics.

He finally reaches the part Caleb asked him about—Stefan leaving for the big city—when another character is introduced, presumably his love interest. He appears to be about as compelling as the protagonist, until— Essek snorts quietly. “Caleb Widogast,” he chides softly, “is this a love story about wizards?”

At first, he doesn’t answer and Essek briefly considers the option of Caleb wilfully ignoring him. Then, there’s a barely audible snore. When he glances down in surprise, the human is leaning against his shoulder, soundly asleep. He noisily chews on a strand of his hair, a bit of drool dripping onto Essek’s shoulder.

For a moment he can’t help but stare, a dopey smile on his face. He quickly arrives at the conclusion that something as disgusting as that has absolutely no business being as endearing as it is. But for some reason he doesn’t mind at all.

Moving carefully and slowly, in order not to disturb Caleb’s sleep, he puts down The Creation of Silver. It is getting rather late and he probably should begin his trance, if he wants to wake before Caleb's inevitable departure.

He leans back, wiggling a bit to find a comfortable position. He thinks he's doing a good job of not rousing Caleb until the human grunts quietly. Essek freezes, fearing he may have woken him, but instead of opening his eyes, Caleb just shifts closer to him, throwing an arm and a leg across his lap to hold him tight.

Essek looks down at his... friend with a fond expression. After a moment of consideration, he reaches down to brush the strand of hair behind his ear.  

Sometimes, he feels like he can barely contain all the love he feels for this man within himself. One day, perhaps, he might even find the courage to tell him so.

Zemnian Translations:

Hausschuhe - slippers. In fact a Very Important German thing. Can't wear your normal shoes indoors, so you need special house shoes. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss. - Sleep well, Mister Thelyss. Gute Nacht, mein Schatz. -  Good night, my darling. (lit. treasure) Schlaf wohl und g'sund, bis morgen früh's Kaffeele kommt. - Sleep well and sound until tomorrow morning the little coffee arrives. (My Caleb is Suebian now and I don't take criticism. I was writing this when I suddenly remembered this sentence my parents used to say to me and I thought if my sleep deprived brain remembers things like that, it would only be appropriate if Caleb's did too.)

#critical role #critical role fanfiction #shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #my writing #sgtober2021

[life-rewritten]

Color Rush ; Power Plays and Forced Mindsets (Ep 1-4)

You all know when a show takes you by surprise, you're expecting the same repetition of storylines, the same tropes, the same settings over and over again and then one show stands out; it isn't what you expected. How on earth did you find such a gem. When Korea focused on bringing out new BLs, I was astounded, because that's what we've been secretly hoping for with the talent for production, directing and storytelling even if in a low budget, Korea is the one to beat. And if they start to take BLs stories more seriously, then we were in for a treat. There were phenomenal beginnings and exciting plots, and it felt right except there was also the little minutes and the need for the ambitious plotlines chosen to be concluded correctly, but because of short screen time, the stories ended unsatisfactorily at times. But it didn't matter because as long as we keep getting new Bls from Korea, everything will be fine, one day we'll get to a show that is above all the rest. Is it too early for me to then say that Color Rush is that show we've been waiting for?

An Introduction to Color Rush

Even though it's 15 minutes air time each episode, Color Rush manages to astound and confound us each episode. It's like being on a roller coaster, the thrill, the excitement, the euphoria and the joy that such a plotline was introduced. Color Rush sounds so weird at first; it's soulmate au trope, in a world where some people can't see color and end up finding someone who makes them do so with severe side effects. Like what? Who knew we were also falling into a story with psychological implications mirroring the issues with addiction and obsession, societal issues with prejudice reflecting LGBTQ struggles and minorities, and a terrifying, thrilling and yet sweet romance that seems never to know which spectrum it's on; if it's just a cute fluffy soulmate, au or a more psychological scarier look into obsession and power plays. It's phenomenal, and it takes me on a ride every single episode when it's over, I wonder what on earth did I just watch and why do I want more.

Why do I want these two to get together despite being frightened because of what their relationship entails, why do I feel emotionally torn about the positive and benefits these two have on each other vs the adverse outcomes that could happen the more they stay together. It's a trip. And it's become my own obsession and love too. I think like Yeon Woo I'm also experiencing some kind of color rush with this show because the way I don't want it to end, and the way I'm falling for it more is just something I never thought would happen to a 15-minute episode show. Anyways we're going to be analysing the mindsets and power plays of our soulmates and the negative and positive impact their relationship brings. Could we be falling for a psychotic twisted person (Yoo Han) or could we be being lied to by the media and society on how dangerous monos are? Let's find out.

So what do we know so far in Color Rush? We have Yeon Woo a monochromatic who is neurologically color blind, because of this condition he's been forced to think he's always going to be stuck in a grey, bleak, colourless world alone. He also doesn't want to meet the person destined for him to get out of that prison in his mind, because that person will end up being in danger as monos tend to have aggressive, violent personalities when they get addicted to the color rush they feel with their probes. That person is Yeon Woo, on the other hand, he's also forced to think life is boring because he can't recognise faces, he doesn't have a long-lasting impression with people, he is looking for something to latch onto and when he notices his monos eyes change color or receive color; he gets also excited and determined to keep Yeon Woo by his side despite the pain and suffering it could bring with them being together. Yikes right? There is a weird line between these two that shouldn't be crossed, a line of addiction and passion, the more they are exposed to each other, the possession and obsession grow, and the dependency becomes like a drug killing them on the inside but providing them pleasure because of the feelings they have for each other. Let's analyse the two mindsets of these two characters first, so we get a more in-depth look into what's going on in this world of monos and probes.

Yeon Woo: Alienation and Dependence

So we have Yeon Woo, he has a mindset of a mono. He's been forced by the world to think that he's a monster because of who he is naturally. With the role of the media and society telling him monos are destined to be alone if not they will be dangerous and hurt people. He's cursed essentially and feels that he must stay alienated and alone for the sake of people's safety. He's heard and seen rumours on how dangerous monos can get when they meet their soulmate, they can kill, they can maim, they break the law irrationally, and they even become cannibals if they are forced to a mindset of obsession and addiction to the colors they need to so desperately see. Yeon Woo's world is dark; it's quite synonymous with the feelings of depression, it's heavy, it's grey, it's stagnant. The mindsets of monos are to feel this longing despair and darkness within them because they cannot see anything else, and they are being told they are meant to stay this way forever.

It's incredible how much Yeon Woo has been forced to hate himself. We find out that he's been bullied repeatedly because he's a mono, people don't like what's different, and the prejudice is against monos because the media makes everyone see them as a monster, constantly fear-mongering everyone with rumours of one incident that happened with someone who couldn't hark the addiction to color rush. The thing is monos meeting their probes is even rare, so not all monos are ever going to be stuck in a crazy obsession to see color, they just are told to prevent it as much as possible. With Bullying making Yeon Woo move schools frequently because he reacts violently to defend himself, Yeon Woo doesn't trust or have any friends that he can rely on. This must be such a lonely, depressing, heavy toll on him. But what else can he do? The one person who can help him feel some kind of happiness or difference is his probe, but he can't be with him because he'll hurt him. It's regrettable and depressing when you think about the pain he carries. Not to mention the one person who could make him feel normal, his mother, a mono has gone missing and can't be found, and he probably thinks that again it's because Monos are cursed to be forgotten and in danger. It's awful.

Yoo Han: Obsession and Possession

On the other hand, we have Yoo Han. He's the probe, so he sees color, but he actually is also very similar to Yeon Woo's plight. He has prosopagnosia, face blindness; he can't recognise people or faces. He also has to be walking through a sea of nothing and feel like he can't make connections properly with people because of it. A person with prosopagnosia may avoid social interaction by choice, so he avoids the feeling of social anxiety and just has no interest in making connections with people. He already acts like Yeon Woo, Yeon Woo also chooses to avoid people because of his condition.

This is why it's fascinating because as Yeon Woo is terrified of becoming the mono obsessed with his probe, he doesn't realise that Han is probably more obsessed with him because he can see something different on him. He repeatedly mentions that he likes seeing the different colours enter Yeon Woo's eyes, and I think that he's latched on to that. He also receives a different type of colour rush; being able to have Yeon Woo depend on him and also being able to recognise a feature on someone's face because of colour that is distinctly different each time Yeon Woo goes through a color rush. This is why I find his power-play interesting because he wants to control when Yeon Woo sees colour probably because of trying to prevent him from being addicted and obsessed, but I don't think he takes it seriously how dangerous it is to keep exposing Yeon Woo to colour so easily especially when we can all see that Yeon Woo is experiencing signs of dependency on the color rush; something he's been trying to avoid. As Yeon Woo worries about becoming this monster, he probably should keep an eye on Yoo Han who is more determined to keep him by his side and is also forming some kind of obsession and dependency on his presence.

It's meant to be the mono who's in control, who's the one that receives the most from the probe and is the one with the most power in this relationship but Yoo Han is different. He is the one who's running to his mono endlessly, ignoring the risks and choosing to make his mono get used to color rush. I don't think he's trying to make Yeon Woo go crazy on purpose, or even he knows if he's being too obsessive, but I do believe he's not fully aware of all the information or have the ability to stop the time when they cross that line, and Yeon Woo does become the thing he's afraid of becoming. Han acts like he owns Yeon Woo and wants to control his addiction and outbursts; hence he pulls away and doesn't give into Yeon Woo's demands when he gets scared of losing the color. The basis of the addiction with these two is the fear of losing what they have. This is why in episode 4 although it's romantic Yeon Woo tells Han that he wants to be with him forever, it's also frightening cause that's a sign of addiction and dependency that we know he's trying to avoid.

Being a Mono: Prejudice and Self Hate

Looking into more of the prejudice Monos receive, we can see Yeon Woo's aunt call him and try and prevent him from listening to the media, so he doesn't see himself as a monster. She knows he's always heard and believed in how the media portrayed monos. And this is why it's fascinating to me, are monos really the way people think they are or has it been imbedded into their minds to believe that what they are is wrong. See why this is a metaphor for LGBTQ and minority struggles. Whenever something is different or against societal norms, the group suffers because of growing up with the mindset that something is wrong with who they are naturally instead of actually feeling safe to be who they are and free. Monos are treated this way; they've been told that the love they have for their probes is toxic and dangerous; when really it's probably an exaggeration or can be prevented. But society has made them stop wanting to view themselves and love themselves for who they are, but instead cages them with fear every day on the news about people who aren't them. They even write lazy news reports because they just assume that all monos kill their probes and go crazy from being together. It's really an interesting question to ask. We're feeling the tension and fear Yeon Woo has, but his heart has chosen Yoo Han from the start, he knows it, but he can't help question if it's because of the color rush or because of Yoo Han. And that's where the problem lies, can love ever be good and safe with obsession and codependency?

Macbeth: Madness and Greed

Speaking of Yoo Han's mindset and tendencies. I couldn't help but notice the book that is being mentioned repeatedly in this show, Macbeth could be shadowing him as well. He wears the orange hoody the first time when the book is shown, and this is very similar to the color of the book shown in the show. Macbeth; I've mentioned before is a story about someone who is so obsessed with power that the obsessiveness leads to craziness, violence and madness. Which is similar to symptoms that monos get when they're with their probes. But I can't also help but remember episode 4 when Min Jae says a funny quote about doughnuts in relation to Macbeth. It stuck with me because it may seem like a joke about food but actually think about it. He says the twisted doughnuts become round and the round doughnuts become twisted. And I think that's something to keep in mind we've been told the monos are the issue, the monos are the ones that are twisted and dangerous, but perhaps the probes are also just as dangerous and mad. Or perhaps it's again foreshadowing that Yoo Han is the one with the obsessive dynamics in this couple.

We may be worried that Yeon Woo is the one getting obsessed and addicted to the color rush but as I've said if Yoo Han is also somehow experiencing some kind of color rush when he sees the color in Woo's eyes if he is so desperate to latch onto the idea of someone needing him he may also go into a power trip as he's already showing he is with Yeon Woo. He might want to stay in that state of control and lose his mind. And that's scary and entertaining. I think these two will end up together. They're meant to be together despite the probe mono business. They show other affections and feelings of care, love (non-obsessive), and they both find solace in each other's presence because they both are different and get each other. I'm not saying Yoo Han is going to be a dangerous criminal but we should keep an eye on him to see if there are more signs of increasing dependency and reactions to Yeon Woo not playing by his rules.

Yeon Woo and Yoo Han: Power and Control

We have a theme of control and power with these two. Yeon Woo is trying to control his situation by avoiding ever meeting his probe; he continually tries to avoid the uncontrollable longing and feelings he's starting to have for Yoo Han. Still, no matter how much logically he thinks he can, he's already wearing a jacket and moving to the door towards Yoo Han. He's uncontrollably saying what comes to his head despite trying hard to prevent them from interacting more. People mentioned that he wasn't making sense when he says he wants to avoid people, but he's eating snacks from Yoo Han and Min Jae, and he's going into the lab with Yoo Han. But what he says is just because it's automatic to him to want to say that, he's been forced in a mindset that he shouldn't be with people, so even though deep down he wants the friends, and Yoo Han, he struggles with it yet automatically gives in and does the opposite. For me, that signifies how much control he's losing of himself when it comes to Yoo Han, again the problem is the lack of control monos have when they get addicted to the color rush. Usually with love having lack of control and your walls being broken down, and you are automatically saying how you feel is meant to be a strength to the romance, for color rush, however,  signs of that just mean more worries for Yeon Woo, how long and how much more exposure can he take before he entirely crosses that line and becomes uncontrollable.

We're starting to see even more worrying effects, loss of memory. Maybe Mono's truly lose the control of themselves, their minds and more without meaning to go into a state of mania which by the end they don't recall what happened. Maybe it's in this state that they become the most dangerous. We see Yeon Woo lose his memories of how he cried and screamed to hold onto the colors of his mum in his mind, and that's again a hint that he's entering that cycle that he's trying to avoid. So we also have to keep an eye on that. If Monos are losing consciousness and having no control over their actions when they go too far, then it means it's starting to become even more dangerous for our couple as they interact.

The lack of control and power over themselves, the world and their love lives is heartbreaking and painful when you look at it. Monos have been stuck in this cycle for so long but then why are some monos able to avoid that. I'm certain Yeon Woo's mum and dad did not go through that issue, yes his dad died, but we don't really yet know the basis of his death, and I think if his mum had been involved then, Yeon Woo wouldn't think of her that fondly, so again it brings me to ask if we are all just agreeing with societal opinions on what monos are and if there is a way for them to get out of this powerless and uncontrollable situation. Can Yoo Han and Yeon Woo find a way before the dependency and blackouts increase and cause more suffering? Maybe, Yeon Woo is getting accustomed slowly to Yoo Han's color rush and they know how to reduce the fainting symptoms from too much exposure. Yoo Han may be able to do what he wants to do which is to help Yeon Woo find the control he's so desperately searching for over this condition.

We have two people who felt forced to be seen as abnormal and lonely in the world. Now they've found each other, they could be each other's companion and saving grace, who gives them more meaning to this bleak life they think they have, this happiness they feel, and yet we are also torn because they could also be each other's downfall and lead each other to a spiral of madness and guilt. It's so exciting to see where this story unfolds and what it would bring. There's still so much to analyse and look into, there's the kidnapping mystery of the mother, and with that Macbeth doughnut quote, I'm forced to believe that it might be a probe which is the actual culprit that has taken these six monos, especially for revenge or also an obsession of their relationship with their mono. The aunt is also foreshadowed to get soon hurt, and I wonder how Yeon Woo will deal with that, someone is threatening her to stop looking to the case, and she probably will find the answer before she is sadly eliminated. And we need to know more about Yoo Han, his family, background and how he knows so much about color rush and more. Is there more to his actions than just the desperate need to find someone to be by his side that he recognises or is he on his own journey to lack of control and power and madness because of his need to be with Yeon Woo. Let's find out together.

#color rush #colour rush #korean bl #kdrama #bl series #bl drama #cwg #fvete #january #not thai bl

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 6

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

EXTRA WARNINGS - this chapter is pretty much unrelenting whump and the violence and consent issues (past) tags strongly apply. I have put more detailed (spoiler heavy) warnings at the bottom so if you’re particularly sensitive to that stuff and want to scroll down to check before you read you can do so.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

In a tavern just outside of Leovan the crowd roars another! And Roman laughs and gamely starts to play another jig. He’s been playing for hours and he drinks in the attention happily, even as the cheers of the crowd become a ringing in his ears. The night is long and his throat is raw and his stomach empty and it’s harder and harder to keep his eyes focused, but his hands are steady on the strings. He sways in place, sweat dripping into his eyes, but it doesn’t matter- the crowd adore him. They sing and dance and laugh along, and after each set they call another, another, another until the room is spinning and his throat is bleeding and the audience’s laughter had turned cruel and high and lilting and-

Roman woke with a gasp and immediately regretted it.

The underground room was still pitch black, the humidity still cloying. At some point during his fitful sleep he had slumped to the floor, Lucius’ ill-attempt at binding having come loose enough to allow him to slide his arms down the length of the pipe. He was awkwardly sprawled at the base with his wrists still pinned above his head and his legs twisted underneath him. He tugged experimentally at his binding and got a sharp spike of pain down his shoulders and spine for his trouble. Whilst he had wasted time sleeping, the silk had become sodden from the moisture of the room and shrunk tight against his wrists, making even Lucius’ knotwork impossible to pull apart.

Not that it would have made much difference if he could get it loose.

Stay here until I come back with your transport.

Grunting with pain, he managed to untangle his legs out from under him and sit up. He pushed himself up on his knees as best he could, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his wrists, but gave it up quickly as the pain lacing down his shoulders intensified.

This was bad.

He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to think, but the heat was making it almost impossible. The black of the room kept swirling back in to crowded tavern, the rush of water into the jeers of a crowd…he could feel the raw burn on his throat and his mind scrambled desperately for another song-

Except it hadn’t happened like that. He shook his head furiously, his hair flicking sweat into the room, trying to banish the tavern from his mind.  He had already started traveling with the others by the time he sang in Leovan and if he’d tried to perform so late into the night Virgil would have come stomping down the stairs to tell him he was being ridiculous and to go and get some sleep.

Or Patton would have sat up listening, playing bodyguard, until he couldn’t keep his own eyes open and sweetly suggested that the crowd might want to be getting home to their own families.

Or Logan would appear, pocket watch in hand, demanding he finish within a set time frame in order to allow for optimal sleeping hours.

Roman could almost hear the lecture, relief at a chance to escape the crowd mingling with exasperation at the scholars ridged scheduling.

In the dark Roman glanced over to where he thought the door should be.

The only sound was the gentle hiss of water.

He tried pulling at the rope again.

***

“Hey! It’s you!”

The man blocking Roman’s path back to the ballroom was clearly drunk. He stumbled towards Roman, half leaning on the hallway wall for support, a big dopy smile on his face.  “I saw you- I saw you back there – wow!”

“Thank you friend.” Roman smiled brightly and took a step backwards, but not quickly enough to prevent the guy from grasping onto his sash.

“You’re so pretty.” The guy breathed, his eyes unfocused but his grip firm, “I saw you lookin’ at me when you were singin’.”

Roman squirmed. He was almost certainly better trained than his admirer, and he had had a lot less ale, but he was also shorter and skinnier. With the man pressed so close in the narrow hallway it was almost impossible to find the leverage he needed to push him off.

And. This was a nice place. And by the quality of the man’s clothing he was an honoured guest not a servant. Roman had been the one to convince his new companions to accompany him to the local lord’s house for the ball, he had wanted to give them to a chance to relax whilst he performed. He didn’t want to get himself, and them, kicked out by causing a scene- not when he was half hoping they would allow him to continue to travel with them even though the job he’d been hired for was done.

“I look at everyone-” he said, smile fixed and polite ”– engaging the audience is actually very important for-“

“Shush.” The man whispered.

Roman shushed. Grinding his teeth in frustration.

His assailant brought one hand up to paw at his face in a clumsy attempt at seduction, thick rings knocking against Romans jaw. His other hand released the bard’s sash to grip his wrist instead.

“Kiss me,” the man breathed, the stink of ale on his breath making Roman gag.

Face burning with mounting frustration and embarrassment, Roman attempted to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, but the man twisted his head at the last moment to meet his lips with his own.  Pressing Roman back against the wall with a slobbering assault as he attempted to pry Roman’s lips open with his tongue.

Panic flickered in Roman’s belly and then just as quickly dulled. It was generally easier to let these things run their course.

And then, suddenly, the pressure on his mouth – and wrist and chest - was gone.

Roman blinked open eyes he didn’t remember squeezing shut to see Patton with an expression so furious Roman had to fight the instinct to cower.

“What.” Patton snarled “Do you think you’re doing?”

“I di-didn’t mean to-“ Roman started.

“Well?!” Patton roared and Roman realised he wasn’t speaking to him – but rather the rich man who appeared to be rapidly sobering up in Patton’s grip.  The warrior held him by the scuff of his neck, his toes just scraping the floor. When Patton shook him, the plethora of chains around his neck clinked together musically.

“Roman,” Patton asked, his voice still shaking with an anger that made Roman draw his shoulders up instinctively “do you…know this man?”

“Well…no.” Roman glanced at the chains again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his heart rate started to return to normal “I think he might be the mayor though Pat, put him down!”

“I don’t care if he’s the King of the elves! Did you want to kiss him?”

“Well no, but – but its fine! These things happen!”

“You call yourself a Prince and this is how you carry on?”

Wait. What?

Roman blinked, feeling strangely hot in the cool hallway.

Patton wasn’t supposed to say that. Patton was supposed to ask what he meant. And Roman would backtrack and feed him some lines about people often feeling entitled to performers time off stage – which was not untrue – and Patton would look at him wide eyed and tell him that would never happen again –

“You’ve been told over and over, to keep yourself to yourself.”

- that Patton would stand guard at every performance from now on if that’s what it took.-

“If you insist on putting yourself into these situations, don’t come crying to me when the inevitable happens.”

-And Roman would be so elated at the implication that they were to keep travelling together that he would almost forget to feel embarrassed at the situation.-

Patton’s lips narrowed into a thin disapproving line, “Don’t be naive. You are far better off alone, Romulus.”

“Dad?” Roman whispered.

“He doesn’t look much like the Prince.”

“Oh, like you’ve seen him.”

“Well he’s meant to be handsome right? This guy’s not winning any contests.”

Roman opened his eyes, squinting against the light. Three men stood around him, illuminated by the glow of an oil lamp. For one wild moment elation flooded through him - his friends had found him after all!

And then their conversation registered and he scowled. Disappointment robbing him of a witty comeback to their insults.

Still. Let them travel almost non-stop for three weeks, spend a night standing out in the middle of a field whilst an old woman sang at herbs, march for five days through a forest - including a detour through he thickets brambles known to man- and then follow that up with an entire day wandering around the city, have two panic attacks and be left to sleep tied up in caller. And then see if they looked their best.  

With the gag still in his mouth, Roman’s attempt to covey this sentiment were mercifully muffled.

“I don’t know.” The biggest of the three stepped forward, grabbing a handful of Roman’s hair and yanking his head back painfully, abruptly cutting off his complaints. “I can kinda see it.”

“Be careful Niki,” the one who had first spoken whispered, he was holding the lantern and keeping well back from Roman. “His nibs thinks he’s got devils with him.”

“In here?” Niki cast a glance around at the iron cage of pipework that covered the room. “If he does they’re not coming out.”

“Still.” Lantern-boy whined.

“Well let’s test it.” Niki grinned down and Roman spitefully and released his grip on his hair. In one quick movement he had produced an iron dagger, not unlike Roman’s own, and pressed the flat of it to Roman’s cheek.

Roman stared at him.

“There you see? If was possessed he’d be screaming.” Niki said smugly and pulled his knife back, twisting it slightly as he did so, leaving a shallow cut along Roman’s cheek, making him wince.

“Careful,” lantern-boy said meaningfully “he’s still the Prince’s brother.”

“Oops.” Niki smiled cheerfully down at Roman. “My bad.”

“He needs to drink.” The third man stood far enough back from the lantern that Roman couldn’t see his face, but he saw the way the other two responded to his soft voice, their posture automatically stiffening.

“Here,” lantern-boy stepped forward after a moment, holding out a water skin to Niki  who rolled his eyes but reached down to rip the gag from Roman’s mouth.

Roman coughed, swallowing air greedily. His throat was painfully dry, all moisture sucked out by the silk, but he still hesitated when Niki held the skin up to his mouth.

“Listen to me.” He croaked “you-“

“Just drink it.” Niki snapped and Roman surged forward despite himself, swallowing a few precious mouthfuls before the skin was yanked away again.  

“You’re from Notaleveale.”  he whispered. “Right?”

“Obviously.” Lantern-boy muttered, taking the water skin back from his companion.

“Well then,” he drew himself up as much as he could, ignoring the pain the movement caused “ – as true men of The North I must implore you to assist me. The Marquis has been embroiled in some- some conspiracy of untruths, is perhaps plotting against the very crown itself and-“

“The Marquis de Orenlla couldn’t plot his way out of a paper bag.” Niki snorted contemptuously.

Roman opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Isn’t he your Lord?” he asked eventually feeling bizarrely offended on the Marquis’ behalf. Niki and lantern-boy were both wearing chest plates embossed with the three peaked mountain range that signified allegiance to Orenlla, the royal kraken of Notaleveale floating above. They were clearly guardsmen brought with Lucius on his journey south.

The third man, who hadn’t spoken since he mentioned Roman needing to drink, wore no identifying uniform.

“It’s not an insult.” Niki shrugged, “personally I prefer an employer too daft to organise a coupe.”  

Lantern-boy nodded in agreement, “It’s a, whatcha call it - a positive working environment, innt?”

“…alright.” Roman decided to change tactics. “I’ll double what he’s paying you.” This time both men laughed.

“With what?”

“Well, I. I’m still a Prince I’ll have you know -  I have many rich and influential friends who would gladly-“

“Oh really. Where are they then?”

There was an unpleasant pause whilst Roman desperately tried to get his brain to think. He was supposed to be more creative than this!

“You’re no Prince of ours anyhow.” Lantern-boy stepped a bit closer to glare into Roman’s eyes. “Traitor.”

Roman flinched back at the pure look of venom on the young man’s face.

Little fae touched traitor.

“Listen to me. Whatever you’ve heard – it’s not true. My father-“

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Niki surged froward, pulling Roman up by the neck of his tunic. Their faces were close enough that Roman could feel the spittle from the man’s mouth land on his cheek as he shouted: “After your despicable actions you would dare to-“

“Nicolas. Don’t upset yourself.”

The third man was barely visible to Roman over Niki- Nicholas’- shoulder, but as soon as he spoke the large man stilled, lowering Roman slowly back to the ground.

“Marcus. Some more light if you will.”

Lantern-boy -presumably Marcus– quickly produced a box of long matchsticks, almost tripping over himself in his haste to light more lanterns around the room. By the time he was done the room was brightly lit, the glow from each lamp bouncing off the metal pipes until it filled every corner.

The third man did not look especially Notalevealean, with skin almost as white as Virgil’s and pale white blond hair.  He was dressed plainly, with pale grey robes and soft shoes, and carried only a thin walking stick. If he hadn’t spoken, he could have quite easily faded into the background - camouflaged against the dull back drop of pipes.

“Nicholas. Marcus. Go and guard the passages.”

“But we already have a dozen men out there-“

“And I’m sure they’re in need of leadership. Go now.”

The two men glanced at each other. Roman thought for a moment that they would stand their ground, but then Marcus snatched up his original lantern and headed for the door, Niki following after one last reluctant glance back.

“W-wait.” Roman called. “Is my Father alive?”

They disappeared into the gloom of the next room.

Left alone with only the quiet grey man, Roman found himself wishing they’d stayed.

The grey man smiled at him as he shuffled towards the kneeling prince. His smile was an awful thing that did not touch his eyes.

“The young Marquis de Orenlla is a rather silly boy.” He told Roman in his soft papery voice. “Much like yourself.”

Despite himself Roman let out an offended squeak, but the grey man continued unhindered. “He has very little idea how to survive alone, can barely function without his servants.”

Roman caught himself staring at the floor and snapped his gaze back to the grey man’s face. He didn’t want to miss any information he might let slip but looking at him was-

It was difficult.

When he tried to look at the details of his face they seemed to slip away. Was he young or old? What colour were his eyes?

The whole time he had been talking, had his mouth actually moved?

“What are you?” Roman whispered.

The grey man smiled again, Roman shuddered.

“But also like you, he is not wholly stupid. He has started asking some inconvenient questions.”

Within the blink of an eye, the grey man was next to him a knife in his hand. Before Roman had a chance to do more than flinch, he had cut the ties biding his hands, and was back across the room.

Dazed, Roman rubbed his wrists, trying not to wretch.

Up close, the grey man smelt of death.

“Now. Sit there, and listen to me until I finish.”

Romulus whimpered.

“Your father is dead.” The grey man told him bluntly. “You killed him.”

“No.” Romulus- Roman shook his head. Used his newly freed hands to cover his ears. “He was sick.”

“You poisoned him over many weeks.” the grey man whispered. “Disguised it as a common sickness. You tried the same on your brother but he was too strong to succumb.”

Roman lowered his hands. They were pointless anyway- the grey man’s voice seemed to be inside his head.

“That’s not how his strength works!”

“And so instead, you allied yourself with a traitor to the fae court and placed a curse of madness on the crown prince, rendering him unable to rule. You hoped to take over in his place, but luckily your father’s advisors found you out. You were forced to flea with your fae companion.”

Roman stared at him, eyes wide. “That’s insane!”

“That’s the truth.” The grey man insisted. “When The Marquis asks you for the truth, that’s what you’ll say.”

“No.” Roman shook his head. “No, no, no.”

The grey man reached forward, resting his hand gently against Roman’s cheek. Romulus stared up into his eyes.

“Julius?” he whispered.

“In a way.” The grey man’s face seemed to twist. For a single moment, it was Julius’ face that looked disdainful down at him, rendering Romulus mute with terror. And then with another twist to reality it was gone, back to the grey man’s blank visage.

“I’ve had eyes all over looking for you Romulus. I was so sure you must have died in the mountains and yet –“ His fingers tightened on Roman’s face, nails digging cruelly into his skin. “Here you are. Like a little cockroach.”

With a shove he released Roman’s face and walked swiftly to the centre of the room, where the largest pipes rose out of the floor. “Stay on your knees and come here.” he ordered. Face burning, Roman shuffled after him, knees bruising on the stone floor.

“Put your hands here.” He gestured to one of the larger pipes. Even before his hands touched the surface, Roman could feel the heat radiating from it. It was far hotter than the one he had been tied to and although he braced himself he couldn’t hold back a yelp of pain when his hands made contact.

He snatched them back quickly, his palms an alarming shade of red. And without pausing, sprang to his feet, aiming a punch directly at the grey man’s immobile face.

“Stop moving.”

Roman felt his muscles lock, momentum sending him crashing to the ground as the grey man easily sidestepped his swing.

“Don’t move until I tell you too.” The grey man added, leaving Roman frozen on the ground where he landed.

Slowey the grey man stepped around him, crouching down by his head. “Look at me, Romulus.” Roman did so, only moving his eyes to stare at the flickering mirage of the grey man’s face.

Up close, the smell was so bad Roman felt the remains of his pastry threatening to make a reappearance.

“I am going to ask you some questions. You are going to tell me the truth. Nod if you understand.”

Slowly, Roman nodded. The grey man – Julius – whatever it was, had already told him what it wanted him to consider the truth. But even so, ‘tell the truth’ was an easy enough order to get around. Truth being in the eye of the beholder and all.

“And if you don’t, I am going to tell you to hold onto that pipe again, and I am going to tell you to keep holding it until I am satisfied with your answers. Do you understand?”

Roman swallowed.  He nodded again.

“Did you kill your father? Tell the truth now.”

“No.” he said quickly and then bit his tongue, cursing. Franticly he looked up at the grey man  “You, you said that was a truth for The Marquis, not for everyone I can’t just –“

“Raise your left hand.” the grey man said mildly. “Bring it here.”

Romulus felt tears of frustration and fear spring to his eyes. He was stupid for thinking he had a chance at this. Julius’ tests were never designed for him to pass.

***

Roman wasn’t sure how many hours passed before the grey man seemed satisfied.

Fortunately, he had methods of persuasion beyond just the pipe. When Romans’ left palm had become completely coated in blisters the grey man had handed him walking stick and instructed him to bring it down hard on his own back instead. And then his shoulders. The side of his face. His left palm.

The grey man never touched him himself.

He didn’t have any need to.

Whenever there was a pause between punishments he ordered Roman to stillness. Time which Roman happily spent fantasising, first of smashing the stick down across the grey man’s head, then of pressing his own eyes to the hot pipe.

Even if they took him home – he could not allow himself to lay eyes on Remus. That was the one thing he could not fail on.

“Did you kill your father?” asked the grey man.

“Yes.”

The stress of raising Romulus, of hiding the curse; there was no doubt he’d contributed to his fathers early death. It was true, at least to him.

“Did you curse your brother?”

“Yes.”

When he was a little boy there had been a phase where he tried to put a curse on Remus daily, and Remus him. The kind of curses they dreamed up were for itchy feet and stinky farts, and none of them had worked, but it was still technically true.  

“Why?”

“I was jealous of my brother.”

If Roman had only been born a half hour earlier he could have avoided a lifetime of being second best. He could have avoided his curse. Grown up with his Father instead of Julius. Not that he would wish any of that on Remus but. It was natural, surely, to be a little jealous of his brothers freedom.

“Good.”

Julius’ face smiled down at him. He reached out with the grey mans hands to stroke Romulus’ hair, like he sometimes did when he was a child. “You see Romulus, there is always a way to work within the confines of your curse, so long as you are willing to look for it. I taught you that.”

“Where are you?” Romulus whispered.

“I am waiting for you.” he smiled. “I have no sons Romulus, no one to pass the Stewardship to. And we must think about the future of our kingdom. When you are back, we can write a new story.”

“You…you’re ruler?”

Romulus frowned. There was a missing piece here but he couldn’t find it. The heat and pain were making his brain slosh against the inside of his skull. He found himself leaning in to the hand in his hair, even as revulsion rippled through him. “If you’re ruler then where’s –“

“Where’s the serpent?”

Roman blinked. Looking up, he found that Julius was gone again, the grey mans expressionless face staring back at him.

“What?”

“The serpent. Where is he?”

“I don’t – I don’t know what you mean.” Romulus held his injured arm close to his chest, curling over it protectively.

He heard the disappointed sigh and flinched even before the grey man brought his other hand to Romans’ bruised shoulder, squeezing hard.

“Look at me.”

Romulus did, eyes bright.

“I know he has left his prison. I know he was with you at that inn. I sent that stupid boy to get him and he found you.”

“I don’t know what you mean!” Romulus wailed, hating the childish wobble in his voice. “There wasn’t anyone else at the inn.”

“No?”

Julius eyes were peering out of the grey man again, a cruel glint to them. ”You were alone?”

“Yes.” Roman told him. Voice steady.

He’d entered the inn alone. He’d sat in the room alone. Climbed out of the window alone. Anything else was none of Julius’ business.

Before the grey man could speak again, a clatter from the next room made them both jump.

“Hmph. He’s early.” the grey man murmured.  “Get back to your place.” He gestured to the pipe Roman had originally been tied to and, haltingly, Roman crawled towards it, sprawling at the base.

“If The Marquis asks, tell him nothing about your injuries.” the grey man added lazily, taking up his position in the centre of the room, fading back into the background.

Roman grunted. It wasn’t a bad plan: his most visible injuries – the burns on his hand which he couldn’t stand to look at – could be explained away as being caused by the very pipe Lucius had tied him to. As usual, nothing could ever be pinned on Julius.

They waited. But neither the Marquis or his men appeared.

The grey man stood across from him, gazing out into the darkness of the next room. Roman wasn’t even worth looking at.

He slumped further against the pipe and tried to focus on breathing. There wasn’t a single place on his body that didn’t hurt, though the worst by far was his hand. He shivered from cold, which, given the heat of the room, couldn’t be a good sign. He let his eyes slip closed. Exhaustion threatening to take him again.

And then he felt a soft pressure on his lap.

“Mrrp.”

Roman opened his eyes. Then he closed them again.

He opened one eye. It was still there.

“Mister Mittens?” he asked, slightly hysterically.

Romulus and Remus had grown up with dogs. He wasn’t sure if cats were supposed to be able to feel smugness, but this once clearly did. It butted it’s head against Roman’s chin with another self-satisfied “Mrrp.”

“What?“ The grey man was staring at the pair of them, looking as confused as his expressionless face could manage. “Where did that thing come from?”

Roman was saved from having to answer by a crossbow bolt. One that came through the open door, burying itself in the grey man’s skull.

Chapter 7

Extra warnings

Consent stuff – Roman relives a memory of being sexually assaulted (he doesn’t necessarily think of it in those terms). A drunk man kisses him and pushes him against a wall. The man tells Roman to ‘kiss me’ without knowing anything about Romans curse. They are interrupted before it goes beyond kissing. (whether anything else would have happened, or whether the man would have stopped if he had known about the curse, is not shown in the text). It is implied that this sort of situation has happened to Roman before, and that it has gone further, but this is not explicit.

Violence stuff – Roman is tortured in this chapter. This includes cutting, burning and beating with a stick. The majority of this is not described in explicit detail but it’s certainly going on. Due to the nature of his curse, most of this takes place due to another character ordering him to hurt himself. Roman briefly contemplates burning his own eyes (for ‘trying to get around my curse’ reasons rather than ‘self harm’ reasons) . Someone also gets shot in the head with a crossbow. Roman also spends most of this chapter dehydrated and suffering from heat stroke .

I’m not totally sure what this falls under but its grim stuff – a character from romans past spends a lot of this chapter tyring to gas light him/ manipulate him into believing a set of false memories. Roman retains his correct memories but gets hurt a lot in the process. Meeting said character causes Roman to dissociate (I think this is the correct term but please correct me if I’m wrong), he continuously switches between his name and his childhood name during the chapter and at some points reacts as if he was a child.

#ts roman #roman sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #creativitwins #sidespart writes

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

just because you’re afraid it doesn’t mean you’re broken.

Titans 3.05

once more into the cold dark void of the internet with my stream-of-consciousness take on a superhero tv show...

spoilers ahead.

1. i cannot believe that among the first things i get to hear in this episode with my own two ears is the line 'eluded our overdudes'. why must you give me such pain along with so much joy, show?

1.5. scarecrow stringing jason along on this path to red-hood-dom is not something i would’ve ever expected, but does kind of make sense. 

1.55. i don’t know all the details of the original resurrection arc in the comics but i like that jason, weirdly, has a greater role to play in his own demise and rebirth? i think it makes it easier to draw a line between his past trauma, the demonstrably shitty and terrifying responsibility of being robin, the ways bruce and the titans wronged him, his responses to that, the reasons he turns to scarecrow, and his final evolution to red hood. it makes for a smoother character arc rather than a one that was interrupted for two decades before somebody went oh hey let’s resurrect that kid that the audience once voted to kill and make him an anti-hero!

1.75. what’s crane giving him? anti fear toxin? anyway, crane is a fucking creep and i’m not sure i want to see a whole lot of him on my screen.

2. oh, um, heads up: there’s a long sequence of unsteady cam + flickering lights right after the title card upto the 3:16 mark. it’s a bit headache-inducing so if you want to skip, you can go ahead and do that. 

2.45. that’s... weird... why would he dream about... donna...

ok, who am i kidding. i’m going to jump right into my theory about Why Titans Makes Sense Actually because the show itself is apparently not interested in explaining itself:

a) it makes no sense for jason to be conjuring up donna--who famously did not care much for him!--in his dreams. (he wasn’t even there when she died.) or for her to be telling him don’t go or there’s still time.

b) this leads me to think that that’s actually donna, in some sort of limbo between life and death, the kind of place where jericho used to be

c) rachel has demonstrated that she has the power to link the minds of the titans across great distances--she called jason and hank/dawn for help in 2.01, she linked up everybody later in the season, projected dick’s hallucination of his father into their brains without even realising she was doing it, and in the finale, she managed to get dick into conner’s brain. she’s in themyscira now. is this how she gets donna back to life? but reaching out to her in that non-space between life and death?

d) the next obvious question is: why isn’t donna appearing in the dreams of the other titans? she probably is, but they have better reason to be dreaming about her since they were actually close to her, unlike jason.

e) but why would she warn jason in particular? does she foresee jason entering the afterlife--however briefly? does she have an idea of what jason plans to do and what he will become?

f) anyway, more trippy mindscapes and weird psychic powers, yay!

2.5. my heart clenched when bruce comforted jason post-nightmare: clearly i’ve been reading way too much batfam fic. this is a side of bruce we haven’t really been told to expect by all the characters on the show calling him a ‘psychopath’ (*cough*unreliablenarrators*cough*) and him getting jason to speak to a professional speaks volumes about the kind of self-reflection he’s done post dick’s departure, and maybe some of the regrets he has with regards to how he dealt with dick’s traumas.

i mean, just look at him when jason dismisses his concerns! BRUCE IS TRYING JASON

anyway, i have a whole lot more i want to say about this, but i’ll save it for later. 

also: LESLIE THOMPKINS!!!!

3. i really like molly--and i love that she’s a friend from before jason got taken in by bruce, the implication that they meet up regularly and that she’s a grounding influence on him (tho clearly not grounding enough to not go along with his dumbass idea about confronting a child trafficker alone). 

3.5. aw, jason. robin was his armour against everything in the world that would throw him down and chew him to bits, but san francisco proved that even robin wasn’t enough to protect him. it’s really interesting how ‘disillusionment with the idea of robin’ is so integral to the traumas of both dick and jason but in such different ways. 

4. LESLIE!!!!!!! i even forgive her office being so goddamn blue because leslie! 

4.5. it makes so much sense for titans!verse leslie to be a therapist, because this show is so inward looking anyway, and therapist sessions are a useful tool to showcase this character work in a story. besides, at least in fanfic, leslie often seems to double up as a counsellor anyway. 

4.6. oh man. i’m not terribly convinced by walters’ red hood (tho i think that may be the point--argh. i’ll come back to this thought later. have to stop getting distracted!) but he plays the asshole kid that’s trying not to let any real emotion seep through really well.

“you’d like me to punch you, wouldn’t you”

5. not sure what to think of batman’s little trophy case other than the show winking unsubtly at us and going look look - catwoman! the riddler! two face! you excited yet?! it’s like the scene from the end of amazing spiderman 2 when they were trying to drum up excitement for a sinister six spinoff by having harry osborne walk by a bunch of display cases with stuff from iconic villains in them.

... but then again, bruce does like to display a lot of shit in his batcave, including his dead robin’s bloodstained costume, so.

5.5. bruce is so soft with jason it’s killing me. beyond just trying to learn from his mistakes with dick, it speaks to his own genuine desire to balance his dedication to gotham with doing the best by his sons, although he’s often not successful with that. 

i love that titans is really playing the long game with bruce wayne, with each season and character-perspective sliding in fresh pieces of a bigger puzzle. titans’ bruce has always been a phantom of other peoples’ making, but now we’re getting the idea that he’s a whole lot more complicated than other people make it seem.

5.75. it really recontextualises some of his actions from previous seasons: the fact that he locked dick out of his security systems in 1.06 is likely his way of respecting dick’s independence and his desire not to be associated with batman/gotham anymore. jason knowing about bruce’s tracker while dick doesn’t is probably bruce trying to be more honest and upfront with his charges. bruce sending jason packing off to sanfran to spend time with the titans is probably not him passing on a big responsibility to dick (as i first uncharitably thought) but him trying to get jason out of the toxic influence of gotham for a while and a sign of his trust in dick as a leader and a mentor,

5.8. i mean, bruce is a prick, but he’s also human.

6. i think leslie is doing some good work with jason here, though she may have overstepped the line with her line about robin as a construct being projected by a man with BPD. her speculations about bruce’s diagnosis have no place in her session with jason, and if bruce confides in her, an egregious violation of patient-therapist confidentiality. 

(about the diagnosis itself... i don’t know. i can’t really confirm or refute this without a whole lot more information, and i’m not sure if the writer of this episode means BPD in the same way an actual professional might.)

6.5. i think a huge thing that gets missed out in a lot of recent comics as well as movies/shows is that bruce didn’t create the robin persona out of whole cloth. dick did. he’s the starting point of that legacy and to call it entirely bruce’s creation is blatant erasure of that. in fact, i’m surprised that dick doesn’t feature more in the conversations they’re having about the pressures of being robin. after all, the guy had been robin--bruce’s partner--for such a long time before jason. 

6.8. (and here’s the primal part of me that resonates the deepest with dick grayson--the Eldest Daughter part--that’s sort of resentful: that jason gets the therapy and softness and the learning from mistakes when it took years and years for bruce to reach out in any meaningful way to dick.)

7. oooh that was a great scene!

it’s fun to do these stream-of-consciousness live reactions, because the moment you step down from your soapbox, the episode goes right into tackling what you were just complaining about. bruce means well, he’s learning, but he goes about exactly the wrong way to help jason: taking away robin now can’t be read by jason as anything but a devastating judgment call from bruce. and iain glen really sells the moment that bruce realises this--too late--and his helplessness in trying to get jason to see that it isn’t jason’s fault that he’s trying to do this. he loves jason enough that jason is enough. 

7.5. aaaah so jason brings up the elephant in the room at last. dick got everything makes sense from his perspective, where getting to put on a costume and fight crime means approval, means being something stronger and better than you are. dick got to be robin, then nightwing, and a leader of a whole team of other costume-clad heroes. 

8. ... how did jason just walk into arkham????? this is ridiculous.

8.3. i mean, clearly jason’s not thinking straight, but betraying batman like this puts his possibilities of being robin again even further away. 

8.5. watching that chemistry experiment montage was strangely funny. this guy is looking for an antidote to fear? well, constantly mixing up and inhaling gases concocted by a mad-scientist supervillain is something only the very fearless--reckless to the point of foolishness!--would do. what’s to say crane’s not given you a formula for a drug that will keep you tethered to his every will and whim? hmmmm?

8.7. so he sought out the joker to... test the formula??? 

9. wow the “loud and clear... boss” hits different after a whole episode of them referring to each other as father and son.

9.3. waitwaitwait HOLD UP. wait a DANG MINUTE. you’re telling me that scarecrow had enough resources that he could not only have folks on the outside steal jason away and dunk him in a lazarus pit (i TOLD you that this show would bring up and dismiss ra’s al ghul in a ten second aside! I TOLD YOU) but also have his own little chemistry lab in the basement, AND have enough resources for jason to build his red hood persona???????? all of this in barely twenty four hours?

well there goes my ‘jason orchestrated his death’ theory. it was nice while it lasted. *cups hands to the sky* fly away, my baby.

9.6. a part of me is gleeful at the rushed nature of such an iconic transformation though, especially when compared to all the character work that went before it. we’re so used to getting the opposite that it’s fucking delightful to have a show that’s more interested in exploring its characters’ minds rather than battle scenes or recreating transformations from the comics. that’s taken such bold and exciting steps to fully convey all the nuances of its most recognisable character, bruce wayne, from casting an older actor to play him to unflinchingly showing just how damaging the vigilante lifestyle has been to him and the people he loves. BRILLIANT

*sporfle*

10. again, heads up: a whole lot of flashing lights between 40:28 and 42:00. 

10.3. i guess it’s the super-compressed timeline that’s really throwing me off. where did he have the time to get/develop the mind control thing from? or is it something that he got from the cabal of villains that he intimidated at the beginning of 3.02? very messy.

10.5. i love molly, i hope she shows up again this season.

11. aaaand that’s it! that was a solid episode as flashback episodes go, but now i can’t wait to return to the present.

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #jason todd #bruce wayne #leslie thompkins #a tragic jalebi #robin #red hood

[hotchley]

by any other name

So I wrote the fic inspired by this post. It's too long for a drabble. I kinda hate it. It's not been proofread and there's little plot. It's a bit anticlimactic, but it was fun in the moment and I need to go to sleep so... yeah. We're going with it. There's a happy ending!

Trigger Warnings: intrusive thoughts, past child abuse, trauma, trauma responses, implied panic attacks, food mention, blood mention, death mention, slight implication of past dissociative episodes, religion, religious trauma, religious themes

read on ao3!

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Aaron remembers being told that as a young boy, shifting in his seat because the clothes his mother made him wear to church were uncomfortable. It had confused him. He'd spent so long being told hell was for bad things- sometimes he was included in that list- that good seemed to be the exact opposite of that.

He'd tried to ask his mother, but she had silenced him with a look. He didn't even bother looking at his father.

Later he realised what it meant, and found himself agreeing. After all, his father was a terrible man who hurt everyone he touched, but he always said it was with good reason. Aaron hasn't set foot in a church since Haley was buried, yet he still finds himself wishing one of the men who made his life a misery is burning in hell.

He tries to not think about the implications of that too much.

The proverb comes to mind again as he argues with Jack. Not over anything serious- not in the grand scheme of things. But to a seven-year-old boy, navigating life without his mother, it is the most important thing in the world.

They're arguing over shoes.

Jack wants to wear sandals. His father wants him to wear trainers. Hotch had checked the weather forecast that morning- it was going to rain. And he didn't want Jack catching a cold because of it.

But then Jack's bottom lip starts to quiver, and he looks to his father like he's being told his mother is in heaven and Aaron thinks of the meaning behind the words. If he doesn't let this go, then what's to say he'll need to have the next thing go his way. And the thing after that. And the thing after that.

What's to say that when Jack looks back, wondering where everything went wrong and he stopped being his father's son, he will realise it was this moment?

"Okay. Okay, wear the sandals, and then let's get going," Aaron says.

Jack, completely and blissfully unaware- as he should be- of what his father has been thinking, grins, his earlier sadness forgotten. He puts his other shoe on and then runs out the door. Aaron picks up his bag and coat, smiling slightly at the trust Jack has in his ability.

Jack's teacher smiles at them when they get to his classroom. Knowing Aaron is running late, she just takes Jack's things and bids him goodbye. The relief visibly crosses his face as he realises he won't have to make small talk. He goes to tell her about Jack's bag, but she waves him away.

She's seen enough interactions between children to know what's going on. It's why she's so unsurprised when she opens his bag to see his trainers and favourite socks are neatly tucked away for when it does inevitably rain and soak him.

Aaron makes it to work on time. Of course he does.

"Morning Hotch," Anderson says when they get into the elevator together.

He's one of the few people to follow the "no inter-team profiling" rule, so he doesn't notice how some of the tension seems to bleed out of his boss' shoulders once the nickname is used. Doesn't even realise how Hotch gives him a slight smile when his back is turned.

He steps out, and everything is as it should be.

The ghost of his father may be haunting him more than usual, but Aaron spent most of his life being ignored. He knows how to hide. He knows how easy it is to forget about someone when you bury yourself in something else.

So that's exactly what he does. He logs into his computer, and he starts making his way through emails. By the time Emily- always the last to arrive, yet always on time- sits down, taking a few minutes to speak to the others, he's gotten through all the ones that came in last night.

His ear is hurting, but he chooses to ignore it as much as he can. Halfway through his second file, he opens his door. Spencer taps Derek, and a few minutes later, the rest of the team is assembled to collaborate on a profile. It means lots of talking, and the occasional shuffling of papers. It means noise, but not so much that it's unbearable.

Aaron smiles, and it feels like the ghost of his father fades. He is loved. He is cared for. He is worth time and effort.

Despite the nature of their work, he's in a good mood as the day continues.

By lunchtime, the memory of his father is breathing down his neck, criticising everything he does. His posture is crooked. His notes are too messy. His profile isn't good enough, and the killer is going to get away with their crimes.

Just like Michael Hotchner.

He has no idea where the sudden bad day is coming from, but he can't shake it now. He will not waste the day and he will not give in, but it is just one of those days where the pain is so much more than he thinks he can tolerate. He wishes he knew how to cope properly, but he doesn't.

His pen suddenly snaps. He'd been holding it too tightly, and now his hands are covered in red ink. He was annotating. He always annotates in red, but now, as it stains his hands, all he sees is Haley's blood. Foyet's. Elle's. Kate's.

There are no tissues in his room. So he goes to the bathroom, hoping the team doesn't see what's happened. They don't, but they do hatch a plan.

Again: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

The short walk does nothing to clear his head, and every second he spends looking at the file is a second in which he thinks about the pen just suddenly breaking. How did he not realise? How did he not know? This time it was the pen. A thing.

What happens when it's a person? Then what?

He thinks he hears someone call his name. But that's ridiculous. It's too late for lunch, and too early for anything else. If someone needed something, they would've knocked on his door, especially with his ears acting up the way they were.

"Aaron Michael Hotchner," Derek shouts.

He doesn't like using Aaron's full name, but they got him a doughnut from his favourite bakery, and he can't be bothered to walk all the way up to his office. Also, Aaron didn't respond the first three times they called for him, so if anything, the shock will force him away from his desk for a few moments. God only knows how much he needs it.

Aaron doesn't hear Derek's voice.

He hears the echo of his father.

His throat starts to close. His vision starts to blur.

There is nowhere to hide. Not in his office. He used to have spots, just in case, but Jack hates it. Jack cannot stand it, so Aaron got rid of all the things that made it possible. He would never make his son hurt the way his father made him hurt, and maybe to him that is nothing, but when Jack grows up- because he will, in time- he will realise how brave his father has always been.

But that is the future.

In the present, Aaron has nowhere to turn.

The walls are closing in.

The voice is getting louder. It is getting closer. The danger is coming towards him, and he has nowhere to hide. He has nowhere to turn.

"Aaron?" Someone says.

He lets out a sound. He presses his hand to his mouth. He cannot take it back, but he won't make another one. It will only make things worse for him. He learnt that lesson long ago.

"Hotch." A different voice. A safe voice.

He turns in that direction.

He doesn't see it, but Derek Morgan's face is filled with relief and anger and sadness all at once. Because it suddenly makes sense.

"Aaron" has been tainted by the mouth of the man who gave his friend his middle name. That man and his actions are the reason Jack's middle name is Derek, not Aaron. "Hotch" has never passed Michael's lips, and it never will. "Hotch" is the man, who didn't even flinch when a bullet wedged itself in the wall next to his head.

Aaron is the boy that cried himself to sleep, wondering why his father couldn't love him the way he was meant to.

"Hotch. You're safe. Breathe with me," he says.

Hotch does.

When the panic passes, the heat rises to his cheeks, and he silently pleads with Derek to not say a word. He realises now that the other voice was Dave. Dave, who has left the room. He feels like he's failed another father.

The door and blinds are closed. He's lost all sense of time, but he feels grounded, so it isn't too concerning.

"Thank you," he whispers. For everything, goes unsaid.

"You don't need to do that," Derek replies. Because it's not difficult. Not when it's you, are the words unspoken but still communicated.

Aaron manages a weak smile. It will be a silent understanding between them, just like so many other things.

"Would you like a moment?" Derek asks him.

Hotch doesn't trust his voice, so he just nods. Derek leaves him.

Only once he stops hearing the footsteps does he break.

He doesn't scream, even though he wants to. It has been thirty years. His body stopped knowing the touch of that man long ago, and yet every waking moment feels like it is ruled by him. He hates it, but Michael- for better or for worse- made him the man he is today, and there is no way to shake that.

Realistically, he knows that he is responsible for his actions, and that he was only influenced by his father up to a certain point, but when the tears are falling and dampening his trousers- not his shirt, they'll be too obvious- rationale is hard to cling to.

He walks down ten minutes later.

The team has been guarding his doughnut. Of course they have.

Hotch's eyes are red. Nobody comments. But everyone knows. Everyone understands now.

It is an uncomfortable silence, and it is uncomfortable to watch him try and pretend he is perfectly fine, but at least he got his treat, even though it tastes like dust in his mouth.

They get it now. Why he is always so adamant about being called Hotch. Why he hates the use of his first name. Why he so violently objected to the tradition of giving Jack his name as a middle name. Because he doesn't want his son to never be free of him.

Jack will one day give his children their grandfather's name, citing him as the greatest man he's ever known.

Again, that is the future.

In the present moment, Spencer calls him Hotch without a second thought. Dave stops calling him Aaron when he wants to get a point across, realising it only works due to fear. Emily continues to make slight alterations to the nickname that either get her an eye roll or look of horror. JJ and Penelope make sure any notes written to him use Hotch.

Derek doesn't change a thing, because their bond has always been different.

Jack comes home in trainers, understanding how much his father loves him.

It makes Hotch understand that his wishes are valid. His needs matter. His comfort is important to people.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the personalities attached to Hotchner, Hotch and Aaron merge into one.

And then Hotch introduces himself as Aaron.

The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but intentions and actions are very different things that can completely alter the destination someone finds themselves at. And a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, so whether he is Hotch or Aaron, he is a good man, who found a way to defeat their father.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #sad aaron hotchner #tw intrusive thoughts #tw past child abuse #tw trauma #tw trauma response #tw food mention #tw blood mention #tw death mention #tw religion #tw religious trauma #tw religious themes

[lynkhart]

MAJOR spoilers for the C2 finale of Critical Role so read at your own risk of you haven’t caught up!

I have so many feelings regarding Caleb and Essek’s intertwining character arcs I needed to explore, so strap in folks, you’re in for a bit of a ride! (But seriously though, this is like 4000 words long, I basically wrote an essay 😂)

At the start of the campaign, Caleb Widogast was dripping in guilt and self loathing and refused to believe he could ever absolve himself of his sins. Essek Thelyss was a cold, aloof individual who betrayed his people for selfish goals, and their differing yet mirrored narratives have been an absolute delight to watch unfold.

In the beginning Caleb truly hated himself. He shot down any attempt at a compliment, described himself as a ‘disgusting person’, outright rejected the idea that he was worthy of love, and never let the blame shift from him for what he’d done. When Beauregard and Veth/Nott pointed out that he was coerced and manipulated into killing his parents, he reacts in an incredibly visceral way, and I’ve seen several comments likening it to a victim of child abuse who was groomed into believing they were as responsible as their abuser, and I think that’s exactly how it was meant to be read. He doesn’t see himself as a victim, only a murderer, and punishes himself for it every day. We see this in the way he presents himself, dirty and unkempt because in his mind he doesn’t deserve to feel good about himself in any way. Other than Nott/Veth and Beau to a certain degree, he purposefully isolates himself from the rest of the group and it’s a long time until he feels relaxed enough in their company to drop his defences a little.

(Speaking from a purely meta point of view, Liam did an absolutely phenomenal job of showing this through body language and I’d love to see someone do a compilation video of it. He starts off very hunched and guarded, leaning his body away from the closest person to him and avoiding eye contact and physical touch; but by the end stands tall and sure of himself.)

Early on there were a few moments where he had the option to do some pretty dark shit, and I’m sure there’s a possible timeline where he gave into his desire for revenge and really lost his way, but I’m glad he stuck it out and worked through his trauma in the way he did. His PTSD and disassociation when casting with fire was tragic, but over time he was able to work through it thanks to the constant love and support of his friends who kept him from going off at the deep end.

Molly’s death was the catalyst for change in a lot of the party, and Caleb is no exception. On the verge of leaving the group prior to his death, the grief they shared, combined with their frantic attempt to rescue the other half of their party put things in perspective and gradually he learned how to be a person again, to care.

Altering time to save his family had been Caleb’s only goal in life, and so when Essek and by extension, dunamancy was introduced, you could see his eyes light up at the possibilities.

A huge turning point for him is aligned so closely with Essek’s redemption arc which feels quite apt I think. When Essek confesses to his crimes, Caleb delivers a beautifully iconic piece of dialogue where he acknowledges their similarities and how much he himself has changed as a person since meeting the Mighty Nein. (Source - CR wiki)

‘You listen to me. I know what you are talking about. I know. And the difference between you and I is thinner than a razor. I know what it means to have other people complicate your desires and wishes. And I was like you. Was. I know what a fool I have been for years. You didn't account for us. Good. That is life. Shit hits you sideways in life and no one is prepared. No one is ready. These people changed me. These people can change you. You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it. You have a rare opportunity here, Thelyss. One chance to save yourself, and we are offering it.’

This is not the same Caleb we met back in the Nestled Nook inn way back in the first episode. While not yet fulfilled or entirely convinced of his own worth, he knows he’s on the right path. That alone is progress enough, but that he uses his own experiences to help another escape those same chains of guilt says such a lot for his development. When he tells Essek that his ‘venom’ was learned, he’s also talking about himself and his own history of being manipulated and gaslit, with the implication being that it can be un-learned just as efficiently.

Caleb Widogast is selfish no more, or at the very least, doesn’t let his goals undermine anyone else’s anymore. Contrary to what he himself might still think, he is in no way a bad person. He loves fiercely and cannot abide seeing those he cares about in pain.

Early game Essek is what Caleb could have been if he’d rejected his friends and focused solely on his own selfish goal to undo his mistakes. Both are impassive at first and see the Mighty Nein as means to an end...until they get to know them and then their fate is sealed. The Power of Friendship wins once again!

At the beginning Caleb said he wanted to ‘bend reality to my will’ (sic) and in the end he does just that, though not in the way he originally intended. Destroying the T-Dock, and by extension the one thing he’d been building towards from the start, the chance to go back and change time, for me personally was the absolute peak of his journey. I rewatched the scene where Caleb revealed the truth about his parents death today, and it was really jarring to see just how far he’d come since then. It made me oddly proud actually.

I always felt like his plan to save his parents was the one thing holding him back from truly accepting their deaths, which is why the final scene of him in the cemetery with the letters for them hit so hard. He never truly gave up hope that they’d be reunited, but ultimately he realised he was merely postponing the inevitable and never allowing himself to live his own life. While time travel shenanigans would have been incredibly interesting to explore in game, choosing to let the past lie and not go back for them finally allows him to grieve and move on, and perhaps most importantly of all, to forgive himself at last.

I know some people were annoyed by Caleb’s decision in the finale to spend the rest of his life teaching rather than continuing to adventure, but I see it as the natural conclusion to his whole arc and his own personal victory.

He looked Trent Ikithon in the eyes, a man who he’d spent years wanting to kill and run from in equal measure, stripped him of his power and his voice (and ultimately his ability to harm anyone else) and finally spared his life so he had to live with the indignity of his defeat for the rest of his miserable existence. You couldn’t have asked for a more damning rejection of everything he’d been brainwashed into believing as a child. His dismissal of Trent’s position in the Assembly played into that as well. He never really wanted power for the sake of it; he had no desire for politics, he just wanted his family back, and while he didn’t get the one he started with, he made a new one for himself in the end.

As Caduceus once very wisely said:

‘Pain doesn’t make people; it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential; it's love that saves them.’

Caleb gets to break the cycle of abuse and teach a new generation of mages the way he should have been, with kindness and respect, and I’m pretty sure he’d have introduced a handsome drow as a guest lecturer from time to time. 😉

Speaking of...

Essek described himself as selfish and as a coward, forever putting his own wants and desires first, yet over the course of his journey with the Nein we see his priorities change drastically.

Having friends gives him people to care about, something he’s never had before, and it changes his outlook on life completely. For me, the first time we really see this is when he joins them for dinner in the Xorhaus and stops levitating. It’s a subtle thing, but meaningful. He explains that it had become an expectation of him, a quirk he’s known for, and so to feel comfortable enough around the Nein to drop that pretence is quite bold I think.

Much later, when he chooses to destroy the mini beacon they discover in Aeor in order to give everyone a long rest before the final confrontation with Lucian, he’s essentially giving up everything he betrayed his people for, just to keep his friends safe. The existence and context of that single artefact could have had an earthshattering impact on the Dynasty’s entire culture, forcing them to reevaluate their entire belief system and attitude to the Luxon, something he’d wanted from the start, something he helped start a war for, but he offered it up as a sacrifice without a second thought.

I’d say that’s a pretty big morality shift, and I’m super interested to see if Matt reveals if his alignment changed in the post campaign Q&A. I have a feeling he set him up as a potential BBEG but the party was like ‘no, you can’t have him, he’s ours now’ and that was the end of that. 😂

I think it says so much about the other characters too, that they befriended this person they barely knew, and when he was revealed to have done such terrible things, their first reaction was to give him comfort and an opportunity to atone. Jester held his hand while he confessed, and afterwards, while they didn’t immediately forgive him, they saw the good in him and wanted him to be better, which ultimately feels like what the entire campaign was about, leaving places (and people) better than they found them. It’s obvious that he’s never really had many friends before and has therefore never had the opportunity to be emotionally open with anyone, so seeing him gradually warm up to the Nein and allow himself to soften around them was really lovely to watch.

(Obviously, from a realistic moral perspective, he still fucked up big time. He’s still a godsdamned war criminal and really should have been put on trial for what he did, but I think from a narrative and personal point of view, his redemption arc was far more satisfying, so I’m glad it happened the way it did. (And not to derail but the rest of the gang have done some pretty horrific stuff as well, though perhaps not quite on the same scale)

He has a few moments towards the end that I absolutely love because they show that beneath the guilt and anguish, there’s an incredibly sweet and sensitive soul in there, just wanting acceptance. His dry jokes which often don’t quite hit, (the ‘I will punish the bakery’ line is such an under-appreciated one 😂) his simple joy at learning to garden in the Blooming Grove, and realising that he’d never been asked what his favourite food was before was actually kind of heartbreaking, because it highlighted how lonely his life must have been until that time. There was a moment pretty early on I think when he cast disguise on the party and Jester asked if he could cast it again to change the look of her outfit a bit and while he seemed to find it amusing, he refused, not wanting to waste a spell on such a frivolous request. Cut to their time in Aeor where he burns a fly spell just so he and Caleb can flirtatiously swoop around each other for a couple of minutes, all the while trying to beat Lucian to the city.

His breakdown when Molly’s resurrection failed really cemented to me how much he’d grown as a character. He never met Molly, his only knowledge of him was secondhand, through the eyes of his friends, but seeing it fail just broke him because he knew how much it hurt them to go through it all over again.

His comment to Caleb about not admitting defeat and wishing he could do more did get me wondering at the time if he was going to try and do something crazy, perhaps sacrificing himself via the Temporal Dock to make amends or somehow forcing another reroll, but I’m glad he didn’t. The conversation following that with Fjord was one of my favourites- he shows him acceptance and belief in his potential for the future, something he’s lacked for a long time, and when Caleb bluntly affirms afterwards that he is indeed an official member of the Mighty Nein, it’s the start of the rest of his life, and something he’s exceptionally grateful for.

It all leads to that final moment in Aeor with Caleb, when, presented with the opportunity to alter time and undo everything, he chooses to accept his decisions and carry the weight of his sins for the rest of his long life. That’s...huge.

He’s essentially choosing to live the rest of his existence as a fugitive, forever on the run, with no guaranteed peace or safety. He chooses to spend his life making up for his deeds, rather than looking for an easy way out.

I think that may have had a big impact on why Caleb ultimately made the same decision, as if Essek had been up for altering his timeline I think he’d have struggled to resist it himself. The conversation they had earlier in Aeor about their priorities and resisting temptation really comes to mind as well.

Now, to the relationship.

It was subtle, and not as ‘in your face’ obvious as the other characters, but I’ve been watching and hoping for a long time and I must say, it feels good to be vindicated.

(And if you have any doubt, both Matt and Liam confirmed on Twitter that their post finale relationship was 100% romantic)

I’d been hoping that Shadowgast would be a canon endgame relationship for a while, so the finale, and the aforementioned T-Dock scene in particular had me quite literally shaking with emotion as I watched live. Here you have two men, both damaged and guilt-stricken in their own ways, who find in each other a kindred spirit and a path to redemption.

They’re both very guarded and closed off people, but Essek in particular has a definite shift in the last arc of the campaign especially when it came to his interactions with Caleb. At the start he was quite aloof and stoic, though charming, and they had an instant connection through their shared love of the arcane, (anyone who couldn’t see them making heart eyes at each other when Essek was describing the different types of magic he could teach Caleb was clearly blind) but by the end he was incredibly open to showing his vulnerabilities and that takes a lot, especially for someone whose primary focus was to stay in control of every aspect of his life. The ‘Caleb, I’m scared’ moment during the Trent fight in particular made my heart ache.

No, we didn’t get a dramatic declaration of love or a cinematic mid-battle kiss, but I’d argue that their relationship was just as, if not more intimate than any of the other main characters were. They understood each other in a way the others didn’t, their shared guilt, feelings of inadequacy and their obsession with magic forged a deep connection from the get-go. Neither of them are big fans of PDA I think, though Caleb is tactile as hell (forehead touches and kisses, oh man, I’m so weak for those 😩👌) and some of their most iconic moments have them putting themselves in harm’s way to protect the other. Essek shaking off his forced guilt trip immediately after the now infamous forehead touch in ep140 was beautifully poetic, as was using his fortune’s favour to pull Caleb out of the rubble moments before. Caleb trying to include him in his Sphere of Invulnerability in the finale and Essek staying close to him the whole fight despite being obviously terrified of Trent was the icing on the cake. It’s clear that they care for each other a great deal; whether by the finale they’d consider it love is up for debate, but we know that’s eventually where it ended up and honestly, I love that. I deeply appreciated the fact Matt and Liam both emphasised that they took their time with their relationship, letting each other heal in their own way before they took the next step. All too often in media, and real life too sadly, a romantic relationship is seen as some kind of quick fix, and that a lover will somehow complete you or make all your problems vanish. They knew this wasn’t the case here, and that made it all the better.

While I would have *loved* to have seen them together as a couple right to the very end, the change in their relationship felt right, if bittersweet. I doubt they ever stopped loving each other, and if anything, choosing to shift to a deep and lifelong friendship over a romance that would cause them both so much pain is one of the kindest things you could do for someone you love. After all, friendship isn’t a downgrade, just another way of experiencing that same love, and it wasn’t as though they broke up and never saw each other again, it was pretty strongly implied that they remained a major feature in each other’s lives, they just changed their label slightly. Caleb would hate to have forced Essek to watch him wither away, and although his eventual passing would hurt Essek regardless, incompatible lifespans being what they are, having a period of time to adjust to it, to give them a buffer between the inevitable heartbreak was actually really sweet.

Their romance was no accident, they knew going in that it had a time limit, that it wasn’t going to be forever for one of them, and the fact they did it anyway says so much. They began their adventure wholeheartedly believing that they were both, in their own way incapable of love, only to later find it with each other. Whether their relationship lasted for a couple of years or multiple decades is irrelevant, what matters is that while it did they had a happy and fulfilled life together.

I know some folk wanted Caleb to use the transmogrification spell on himself so he could live on with Essek as another elf, or make him human instead, but that would have been way out of character for both I think. If they could have backwards engineered one of the rejuvenation stations in Aeor and used it to extend Caleb’s life by a hundred years or so, so he’d have a similar lifespan to Veth, now, I could have seen him possibly doing that, so he could spend more time with his best friend too, but nothing further I think. He longed to be reunited with his parents too much to postpone death unnaturally like that.

That both Caleb and Essek ultimately chose to live with their mistakes and make peace with themselves was incredibly cathartic, and I couldn’t imagine it playing out any better.

The fact Matt has explicitly stated Essek is Demi too means so much to me personally because the latter is a label I’ve been identifying with a lot recently, and it’s so rare for aspec relationships to get any representation! It has honestly given me a lot to think about over the last few days, and I really appreciate it.

To conclude, here’s a bit of shameless self promotion. I wrote this after watching the finale and honestly feel like it sums up my feelings on the nature of their relationship pretty well.

‘A casual hand on a shoulder, a waist, a wrist; a gentle kiss placed on a forehead is common between them now, an intimacy born of trust and mutual affection. Over time it grows, like a fire born of seasoned timber; gradual and steady, no spluttering kindling that flares and sparks, but a slow burn, one which lasts.

Their love is embroidered into every aspect of their lives together. Acts of service, of comfort, of understanding.

Sometimes a kiss leads to more than a kiss, sometimes it doesn’t. Either way they are content.‘

So yeah, I love these two wizard boys so very much and I couldn’t be happier with the conclusion of their stories. ❤️

#Critical Role #Critical Role Spoilers #CR Spoilers #shadowgast #Essek thelyss #Caleb Widogast #C2ep141 #C2ep141 spoilers #critical role finale

[writefightandflightclub]

Tiptoe around this (Poe Dameron x reader)

Summary: Poe x short!reader. He CANNOT deal with your smolness.

Rating: TEEN

Author’s note: I’m doing soft blurbs this week bc you all deserve a hug from one of our fave fictional husbands. Let’s all destress and be comforted one blurb at a time, okay? (I’m doing these quickly so I can complete as many as I can for you, so they’ll be a bit scrappy, please forgive!) This one deleted itself and then I ahd to recreate it from nothing. The first version was better and probably had fewer typos but here we are. Ran out of time to check before dinner!

Warnings: short!reader; kissing (mildly steamy, no smut or implied smut).

GIF: @thestarwarsdaily​ LOOK HOW PRETTY

Poe’s dying. He swears he’s dying.

He’s doing his best to obscure this fact from Rey and Finn, however, so continues engaging in casual chat all the while as he hurtles towards his demise.

Poe’s dying, and, cause of death? Your cuteness.

Poe watches you surreptitiously from across the hangar. Watches as you realise someone has stolen your step ladders again, despite the fact you etched your kriffing name onto them in Aurebesh last time this happened. And so, to reach the tools you need -valiantly struggling on with your tasks anyway- you clamber up the face of the shelves and stretch to your full length as you attempt to grab down the box.

It appears you can’t quite reach them, even having climbed into a pretty precarious position.

The trouble is, you’re just too kriffing smol.

And it kills Poe. Every single time.

Of course, your height is only one of the reasons he likes you. He’s never even had a preference for his partner’s height before, to be honest. There’s just something about you. Something about how short you are which brings out his protective instincts. Makes him want to hold you and take care of you and spoil you. And Poe is already the type of guy to spoil his partner, so you can imagine how he feels about you.

Oh, and it certainly helps that you’re so kriffing gorgeous too. And funny. And nice. And did he mention SMOL?

Poe would never be patronising towards you because of your size, of course. He knows you’ve been underestimated plenty of times because of it - by both the enemy and allies- and without good reason! You might be cute to a lethal degree, but Poe is also well aware that you’re badass, capable, intelligent, and fierce. Small but mighty, you could say.

Still, when he sees you on your tippy toes trying to reach the box of parts, his heart melts and dribbles out of his feet. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like.

Death, by cuteness.

As you continue to persevere, Poe stops pretending to listen to Finn and Rey’s chatter altogether, a dopey smile settling on his face. He stands from the chair he’s straddling to zoom over to you, before some other handsome, height-endowed recruit can come to your assistance. He couldn’t have that, now, could he?

“Hey,” he says from behind you, a warm and gentle hand settling on your shoulder in greeting. “Can I help you?”

Poe hopes he can reach the damn shelf, because whilst he’s certainly taller than you are, he’s not exactly Chewy. Now, that would be embarrassing.

“Sure,” you say, even as you huff and puff, successfully grappling the box down to the floor without any further intervention. You recognise the Commander’s familiar, sandy voice before you even turn around, but when you do, you flash him a warm smile, and he could swear -if you killed him a moment ago- that smile has revived him back to life. “You can tell your damn recruits to stop stealing my ladders, Commander. I wouldn’t tolerate this behaviour from my squadron.”

You’re adorable, for sure, but there’s a fire in your eyes telling Poe you are not to be messed with. In fact, he’s sure that given half a chance you could raze the whole First Order to the ground, even if you did the whole thing on your tip toes.

Poe simply looks at you goofily, trying to remember how to speak, your eyes big as you gaze up at him from beneath your lashes. You’re basically a whole head shorter than him, if not more, and he can’t help but want to pull you into a hug, imagining how it would feel to enfold you against his chest and rest his chin on top of your head as his arms wound around you.

“Commander?” you ask again, clicking your fingers in front of his face. “I’m sick of doing everything on my tiptoes - I’m not a ballerina.”

Your gesture brings him back to the real world, and he notices the rolled-up sleeves of your flight suit as they hover in front of his face, his eyes dropping to the rolled-up cuffs of the legs resting on top of your boots. Standard-issue is too long for you and… yes, you’ve guessed it…

Kriffing adorable.

“Sure thing, Commander,” he finally says, still retaining that dopey, lovestruck expression on his face.

You nod to thank him, getting lost in his umber eyes somewhere along the way. He’s always entirely flustered when he speaks to you, and quite frankly, it’s so adorable that it makes your heart melt out of your feet. At least, that’s what it feels like.

You like Poe, and you think he likes you, but... both of you have been tiptoeing around this for far too long now.

“You know, there’s maybe one thing I like to do on my tiptoes,” you say with a knowing smirk as Poe looks helplessly between your eyes and lips, helplessly lost in yearning.

“What’s that?” he asks, and he can swear he intended the words to come out at a normal volume, despite the fact a mere whisper is all that emerges. Still, he’s happy as it causes you to lean in closer.

“Kissing,” you say with a gentle suggestion in your eyes, voice breathy and matching his hushed tones. You think it’s about time one of you makes a move, and it may as well be you.

Poe visibly gulps, and shuffles his feet a little closer to you.

Is this really happening?

He’s not sure how many times he can die and be reborn in one day, if he’s honest. The implication of your words and in your eyes encourages him though. Besides, he’s waited long enough for this moment, and now is as good a time as any, right?

“Kissing, huh? Well, honey, do you think you’d need to be on your tiptoes to kiss me?”

Your tongue darts out over your bottom lip, and an eagerness swells in your whole being, your body tingling with nerves and heat. Your mouths inch towards one another as if magnetised, your chin tipping up and his head stooping lower to greet you, as months of tension is compressed into the diminutive space between you.

“Guess we should find out,” you suggest with a sultry smirk, pausing a small distance from his lips, sharing the same air in the tight space between you.

Poe wraps his arms around your back, his hands feeling large and broad against you. You feel delicate encased in his strong arms, and you grab firmly at the holsters around his wide hips, tugging him close and bringing his body flush to yours. Poe feels warm and big and sturdy pressed against you. You’ve always been independent and capable, and yet there is something about Poe Dameron which makes you want to swoon for him, if only he would pledge to protect and care for you in all the ways your diminutive form might suggest you need him to.

Poe’s face inches closer and closer to yours, his lips pausing a hair’s breadth away from yours as your eyes fan shut, leaving you wanting. You swear your lips are tingling from the near-contact alone, crying out to brush with his.

“Oh oh,” he teases. “Can’t reach.”

You smile as you stand up on your tiptoes, closing the distance in an instant and crushing your lips to his, finding them soft, a hint of stubble grazing your cheek and he tips his head to the side. Upon contact, his tongue melds immediately with yours, deftly probing the cave of your mouth and melting you from within. Your hands slide up and up, coming to rest with your fingers laced around his neck, slipping into his hair.

As the kiss sparks and grows, Poe’s arms wrap firmly around your waist, and he bundles you up towards him, easily taking most of the weight of you, until your toes are entirely lifted off the floor as the kiss reaches its peak. You feel like you’re floating, in every sense.

Breathless and floored by that kiss, Poe sets you gently down, idiotic grins spreading across both of your faces as you stand there for a moment, still holding each other close. Poe looks down at you with adoration shining in his eyes, backlit with a gentle heat.

Feet back on the ground, more or less, you look self-consciously around as you both become suddenly aware of the hubbub created by the fact you both did that in the middle of the hangar.

Oops.

When your eyes look up at Poe again, he still has the softest, lovestruck smile on his pretty face.

“See you later?” he asks hopefully.

“Yeah. I hope so,” you respond, returning his smile, and you stand on your toes to plant a quick chaste kiss to his cheek, cupping his face in your hand. You could swear his skin darkens in embarrassment, and he turns from you with the most bashful and adorable expression you’ve seen on his face yet.

You’re dying, you think. You must be dying. Death by cuteness.

You ignore the commotion you’ve caused, for the most part, and you watch Finn accost Poe for gossip as he tracks across the hangar. You see Rey beelining for you too, the dumbest grin on her face, and you turn back to your work as you notice her approach, taking a much-needed moment to catch your breath.

You kissed him. Poe Dameron. Your long-time crush.

It was true, that the two of you have both spent far too long tiptoeing around this, but it seems that Poe has finally swept you off your feet. It’s safe to say that you’ve never been so glad in your life to be too short to reach a shelf. Funny then, that his kiss has you feeling ten feet tall.

What’s more, this the last day that anyone steals your stepladders. Poe sees to that. Ain’t no-one gonna mess with his precious, smol bean. At least, not if he has anything to do with it.

#poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron blurb #poe dameron imagine #short!reader #petite!reader #star wars x reader #star wars #star wars fic #oscar isaac

[stonefreeak]

OH WOW, LOOK AT THE TIME. AHAHAHHAHAHAAAAA... oops?

Anakin can't believe what he's hearing and seeing. He can't believe that the investigation really would find something on Palpatine. The man has been nothing but devoted to the welfare of the galaxy for years! There's no way that he would do something like this. There just isn't.

Just then, something Palpatine said to him comes back with a vengeance. "Well, I know my innocence, so I feel that I have little to fear… Unless, of course, someone has tampered with evidence or files to implicate me, of course."

He feels cold, shudders and shivers running through him and immediately it's as if a hand is holding his throat. Not squeezing, just holding there, like a threat, making his throat feel clogged and his breathing speed up.

Could someone have interfered with the investigation and planted evidence against Palpatine? It is possible that all of this is a sham of a trial, held on false evidence? Palpatine suggested the possibility after all, surely that must mean that he suspected he might have a political rival willing to stop at nothing to smear him?

... It... It can't have been Obi-Wan, can it?

All of this began with Obi-Wan, after all. Obi-Wan took over Palpatine's position, ousting him from office without a shred of remorse. Obi-Wan locked himself in his room after that Senator had suggested it... Was he plotting something? Working on how to make his plans proceed even as he pretended that he was just an unwilling Jedi Master being put in an impossible situation his sense of duty wouldn't let him ignore?

Because... Obi-Wan was the one who confiscated Palpatine's possession and it was Obi-Wan who started this infernal investigation in the first place! Maybe he planted information while he did his "research" into Palpatine's conduct?

Maybe... Maybe this has all been a bid for power and Obi-Wan's been lying to Anakin all along. Maybe that's why he hasn't given up his place on the Jedi high Council or his place as a High General of the GAR.

Pressing his palms against his eyes, Anakin grits his teeth and breathes harshly through his nose, trying desperately to get it together. Is it really possible that Obi-Wan would do such a thing?

... He would if the Council ordered him to. But that... that doesn't make sense either, does it? Why would the Jedi want to be in charge of the Republic anyway? There's nothing in it for them, not really.

And the only thing Obi-Wan's really done since coming into office is being a stabilising influence on the political scene, start investigations he doesn't participate in, and send laws out to be deliberated on by groups of senators without his presence. Padmé has said all of that, has talked at length about what good she thinks Obi-Wan is doing in the Senate.

But... What if... What if...

He pulls his hands away and straightens, suddenly feeling the way Padmé's hand is rubbing his shoulder. He glances up at her, but her eyes are still trained at the screens.

There's a smile on her face. She looks pleased. There's a light in her eyes and Anakin can tell that she thinks this is right, that she doesn't harbour any sort of suspicions against the investigation.

But... But it all fits so neatly together. It makes sense that Obi-Wan would have set everything up.

Except then, like lightning from clear skies, he remembers something incredibly important, something he had overlooked.

Senator Mandai is a Naangni from the planet Haa'ndu.

All Naangni are impervious to Force suggestions.

There is no way Obi-Wan could have influenced her into doing what she did, not unless he did it entirely without the Force. But that would have taken time and effort, and Obi-Wan had been off Coruscant almost as much as Anakin had before that session ever happened.

It's as if a huge weight is lifted from his shoulders, and he almost wants to cry.

Obi-Wan hasn't orchestrated all of this in some mad bid for power.

It's such a relief to realise that he'd simply jumped to conclusions that Anakin nearly forgets that it means that Palpatine really must be guilty of these crimes. That he really must have abused his position and accepted bribes.

Anakin feels cold, like he can't breathe.

That means that Anakin was wrong.

And Obi-Wan was right.

~~~~

Padmé feels like she's torn between satisfaction and dismay as she watches the results of the trial come in. On one hand, she feels like this further proves that her realisation that Palpatine used her when she was still Queen is true, because clearly it was not the only time Palpatine decided to ignore convention, the law, and his duty to do something that improved his own standing above everything else.

On the other hand, however, she's watching a man she long considered a mentor be proved a corrupt liar, who missed the fact that his close colleague and the Vice Chair of the Galactic Senate was beyond corrupt.

It makes Senator Mandai's words during that fateful emergency session ring painfully true: "He’s been inefficient, slow to act, and allowed his own term to be dragged out without a new vote for far longer than any competent politician should have allowed! The war has dragged on because our Chancellor has done nothing to stop the powers that drive it, and it is the Jedi and the Clones that shoulder the weight of his incompetence!"

She has long since harboured worries regarding the usage of a Clone army, creating living and sentient beings simply for the sake of throwing them into war for a Republic they have never known... And this is just another layer of anxiety on top of that.

If Palpatine had been a better Chancellor... Would the war have ended already?

Or...

Perhaps the war never would have begun in the first place...

~~~~

The news are all over the Holonet as soon as the sentence is dropped. Some quite large fines, but no jail time.

The people seem conflicted, as many of them had been holding on to what they've been told throughout Palpatine's time in office: that he's a hard working man who's doing his very best for the Republic to even his own detriment at some times.

Some are weeping and in denial, claiming that it cannot be true.

Others are mounting protests, that the punishment is too little for someone who abused the highest political office in the entire Republic.

And Palpatine...

Palpatine is locking down all of his rage and disgust, down as deep inside himself as he can, lest he ends up killing multiple people in an explosion in the Force.

As satisfying as he would find it, he can hardly expose himself like that.

Regaining his reputation will be hard work, harder than he ever expected, but he cannot create more bodies to bury with no control. There are enough people that need to die without him adding random pathetic rabble to the list.

He'll take his time, things will blow over...

And when they do, he'll mount a charm offensive that will make everyone forget about these pesky little convictions. They're barely anything at all—though he's almost impressed that the investigation managed to pin them on him. Seems he might have underestimated the Jedi just a small amount.

It's not a mistake he will repeat.

And they will come to regret ever taking part in this farce in the first place.

Not that they would have been spared even if they hadn't put their noses where they don't belong.

Death to all Jedi...

Just as soon as he can formulate and enact a plan to enact Order 66. There must be some way...

As long as he can activate the chip in the mind of just one single commander, he can ensure that commander spreads it to the others and then the destruction of the Jedi will commence.

And the revenge of the Sith will finally be complete.

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

#Supreme Chancellor Obi Wan Kenobi #star wars #anakin skywalker #palpatine #my writing #update #oh man this is late #lmao sorry

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

it's no secret that the writers neglected some relationships in favor of other (*cough* chair *cough*)

what relationships do you wish had been featured more throughout the show? are there aspects of any relationships (like how Blair's treatment of Jenny effects her relationship with Dan) you wish had been explored more? ((I'm talking both romantic and platonic))

oh this is such a fun question!! i wanted to really sit and get to it, hence the long wait time (sorry!) so here we go!

relationships i wanted more of:

first, and this is a popular opinion, i think blair and serena should've been the focus of the show, instead of blair and chuck. a dynamic that was strongly platonic, but with blurred boundaries and romantic implications like the books, where romance is neither confirmed nor denied but all the subtext is there - i think that would've given the show actual backbone. blairena for the win!!

something i have said a lot on my blog is that the danessa friend breakup SUCKED. it was really shitty (and racist!) that dan can forgive his white friends ANYTHING (serena did that whole revenge porn thing - which i think is really ooc but that's another conversation - and dan marries her) but vanessa is unforgiveable for... what exactly? stealing his story and publishing it without his permission? dude, she did that to you before in 1x11 (?? i think it was 1x11) and you were DELIGHTED that your story was being published. you can't blame her so harshly if you never set that boundary. anyway dan and vanessa should've had a blair and serena kind of friendship (& the first two seasons really implied that that WAS how their friendship was) where there's a certain coming back to each other no matter what, even if it's unhealthy.

i've said this before on my blog, too, but i wanted more sibling stuff!! serena&eric and dan&jenny were like. my favourite things about the early seasons. their dynamics were so real and it was so nice; it brought out a different side to the characters that was really refreshing and interesting to see. dan & serena were both so protective of jenny & eric respectively, in a way that they weren't with anybody else, and jenny & eric had a really candid and honest kind of relationship with their elder sibs, which they didn't have with their parents, and it was just. it gave the show so much more HEART, ok.

i also really wanted more platonic jenny and nate! my 2 favourite jenny and nate moments are that bit in seventeen candles (when will it stop? / it'll stop when you stop it - or whatever it is that quote is, cant remember it verbatim right now) and also that moment in.. the empire strikes jack, i think it is? where nate's comforting jenny and she's like 'what's wrong with me' and he just. looks at her with quiet disbelief before he says, firmly, 'nothing is wrong with you'..... nate & jenny had that thing i love about dan & serena, where they could have REAL conversations with each other, and be fully honest AND vulnerable with each other. and while there was a lot about their dynamic that was canonically not the healthiest, i felt like. they both had a really special type of platonic intimacy? and i really liked that. i wanted to see more of that.

i would've liked to see more nate & chuck, but minus the glorifying chuck. as the show goes on, it's like there's two nates, the nate who actually cares about people and respects women and you can trust, and the nate who shares whiskey with chuck and looks the other way when chuck is being abusive, even if it's with blair. this is a bad writing choice, obviously. i would've liked to see nate grapple with being chuck's friend, and realise that he CANNOT possibly support chuck and still be a good person. though of course that is too much to expect from this garbage show.

nate, blair and serena as a trio!!! i wanted more platonic scenes like that thanksgiving flashback from s1. in the books, they were childhood friends, but in a very 'their childhoods were totally intertwined' and the show scrapped that, which i think is rlly sad. there was something so special about nate, serena and blair knowing each other in a way nobody else does, because they've seen each other grow up, and their childhoods are SO merged, and they are just. so close. that would've been SO good.

and well. platonic nate and blair specifically! they've dated for so long, they obviously know a LOT about each other. i think it would be cool if there was more of like. nate knowing things about blair that nobody else does, and blair knowing things about nate that nobody else does.

aspects of relationships to be explored more...... hmmm

the nate & chuck thing is there. i mean. how can nate be besties with jenny AND with chuck. HOW. for a long period of time he canonically is. but that doesn't seem right.

idk if this goes here but i wish that things like the catherine stuff and the rachel stuff and the ben stuff had been handled with appropriate gravity, and we'd actually seen what it meant for those characters, instead of it just being there for the ~scandal~ and then tossed aside.

something i remember from seventeen candles as well is jenny talking about how it's uncomfortable being at home because of her parents. so that follows that nate knows something nobody else really does - which is that the humphreys have a complicated home background as well. like their lives are not perfect. i think it would've been neat if that came up more, in say, nate's friendship with dan. like him just being like "i know your mom leaving was hard on you" and dan being like "what the fuck who told you that????" and nate being like oh shit because he didn't think before he said it and this is dan not jenny

i think it's really interesting how much dan and vanessa don't feel at ease with their own parents, but feel at ease with the other's parents. like the way vanessa is around rufus - weird accidental romantic undertones aside, she actually likes his company and appreciates his advice, and her relationship with her mom...... is not like that. but the way dan tries to fix vanessa and gabriella's relationship........... it's obvious that he's closer to vanessa's mother than he is to his own mother. i think there was potential for some really interesting stuff there.

oh ive said this before, too, but. we didn't get ruby abrams!!! :(

i also think tv!dan should've gotten a boyfriend. i mean. book dan did. but i think now im getting distracted

there's probably more, but this is all i have for now!

oh. i wish we'd had more carter, and specifically, more carter x serena. those two were so absolutely and wholly on the same wavelength.... carter>>> dan OR nate as serena's bf in my humble opinion.

#anon #this isnt as long as it could be but like. #despite much thinking my head is kind of empty \ #so i figured id write what i remember and like #add more stuff whenever i remember that? like. in a reblog or whatev #im gonna tag this #prompt #anti chair #anti chuck