#absolutely hilarious move on the author's part
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Very Serious Dai Dark Fanart
Context under the cut
#dai dark#art#my art#fanart#the penguins of madagascar#absolutely hilarious move on the author's part#how could I not
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hockey player ethan/jack?? what do we think
HOT!!! that’s what we think. anyways happy august season to the august girlies<3 this was very painful yet fun to write btw
august — ethan landry
word count: 3,180
pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader
based on: august by taylor swift
summary: y/n and ethan had never seen each other with romantic eyes, until she pulls up her car. after that, their summer love adventure starts.
warnings: angst, fluff, cheating and that’s it i guess
part one part two
Y/N WAS CERTAINLY NOT PROUD OF WHAT SHE DID, BUT SHE COULDN’T LIE TO HERSELF, SHE DID NOT REGRET IT. Did that make her a bad person? Probably, and maybe that’s why karma got her, because sneaking around with someone’s boyfriend—even if it that someone was Betty, whom Y/N absolutely despised—had been a dick move, and she knew it all too well. But then again, Ethan’s puppy brown eyes had been like a trap. A trap she had fallen for unexpectedly and deeply.
Ethan Landry was the captain of the Blackmore Hockey Team—which Y/N’s brother, Drew, was a part of—, and Blackmore University’s golden boy. He was beyond untouchable, and taken by the captain of the cheerleader squad: Betty Harkness. They were the perfect couple on papers, but everyone knew they didn’t get along very well, and that they broke up and made up back and forth.
Everyone wanted Ethan—he was gorgeous, confident, hilarious, kind, athletic and pretty much every positive adjective you could find. But Y/N always saw him as Drew’s friend and Ethan always saw her as Drew’s little sister (although she was only a few months younger than them). Until one action completely changed the course of their lives.
“Eth? Are you on your way to hockey practice?” Y/N pulled up her car when he saw the tall boy walking on the sidewalk, hockey stick over his broad shoulder.
“Y/N! Yes. My car broke down, and now I have to walk” Ethan said, scrunching his nose.
“Get in the car, dumbass. I’ll drive you” she said, opening the shotgun door.
“Are you sure? Aren’t you heading somewhere else?”
“No, actually I was going to see the practice too. My best friend left to visit some relatives, so I have no plans. Drew invited me to the practice when he saw me mopping around the house”
Ethan laughed, and got into the car “You’re a life saver. But hey, does that mean you have to spend your whole summer all alone? That’s awful”
Y/N shook her head “Only a week and a half. Now I kinda wish I had more friends, although staying at home watching rom-coms doesn’t sound that bad”
“God, you depress me” Ethan groaned.
“Sorry Mr. So Popular I Get Invited To Every Party” she teased him.
“You could get invited to parties too, if you didn’t have that bitchy face whenever someone approaches you with an invitation” Ethan said, trying to contain a smile.
“I do that?” she asked, genuinely surprised.
Ethan raised his eyebrows “You don’t do that on purpose?”
“No! I mean, I would take the invitation even though parties aren’t my thing and will probably not go”
“Why? Because you’re not like other girls?” he joked.
Y/N scoffed “No, you dick. I get anxious around big crowds, especially intoxicated crowds” she explained.
“Oh… now I do feel like a dick”
The girl sent him a reassuring smile “It’s okay”
“You know, this is the first time we talk without Drew around” Ethan said.
“You’re right. What’s your veredict? Am I better company than my brother?” she asked, playful smile on her lips.
“Oh, most definitely” he said mirroring her smile “Jokes aside, you’re actually fun to be around”
“You doubted that?? What a wrong thing to assume from someone who was the authority to kick you out of her car” Y/N tried to keep a serious expression, but Ethan’s laugh ruined it.
“True, true. I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Y/N/N. Please don’t leave me stranded” Ethan said, putting his palms together and looking at her with his deep brown eyes.
Had he always had those cute puppy eyes? And holy shit was he handsome, and charming. How did that go past her all this time?
Y/N did an exaggerated sigh “Fine, I guess I am feeling a little kind-hearted today, so I’ll give you a pass”
“Oh, thank you, benevolent Y/N” he said, and then both bursted out laughing.
Ethan sneaked out glances at her throughout the rest of the ride, wondering how he had never noticed how funny and gorgeous she was. And had she always had that shiny smile?
what are you wearing? 😏
um my grandma’s camisole
who is this?
you’re supposed to say i’m just in my underwear or something sexy jesus y/n🙄
you’re absolutely disgusting, stranger
who are you??
a very handsome and espectacular hockey player (the best on the team, if you want my opinion)
omg julian hi!! i was going to ask for your number but i never had the courage tbh
WHAT THE FUCK YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON JULIAN YOUR BROTHER IS GOING TO KILL YOU
AND HES NOT THE BEST ON THE TEAM 😡
lmaoo
you’re fricking adorable ethan
oh you knew it was me
what gave it away? the handsome part or the espectacular hockey player??
your ego🫤
ah yes makes sense🤔
so… no crush on julian?
nope :)
why are you texting me tho?
i’m bored and you told me you had no plans
so, meet me behind the mall?
we can go see a movie or something
if you want to, ofc
oooh i heard they are playing twilight 🥺🥺
not gonna happen
pretty please????? don’t be judgemental
it’s a classic
we have very different opinions on the term “classic”
come on don’t be like that😫😫 i really want to go
plus we can watch a movie you want another day???
okay fineeee
see you in an hour?!
see ya👹
what the fuck is that emoji
it’s the closest thing to a vampire 😭
🧛🏻🧛🏻♂️ there you go, the emojis actually exist
OMG YOU JUST CHANGED MY LIFE
you’re the dorkiest dork i’ve ever met
a cute one tho ;)
thank you but get your ass moving
robert pattinson is waiting for me!!!
ETHAN WOULD ABSOLUTELY HATE THE MOVIE IF THE SIGHT OF Y/N’S EXCITED FACE WASN’T SO GODDAMN HEART WARMING. Ethan didn’t know what was going on with him, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her ever since the drive—which was a week ago. He yearned for her sarcastic remarks and funny comebacks. He found himself going to Drew’s house more often just to catch a small glimpse of the gorgeous girl, who would smile brightly at him when she caught him staring.
Yes, they were definitely flirting. And he felt like he was fifteen again having his first crush. But the attraction was obviously mutual, so he didn’t hesitate to make a move.
“How many times have you watched this movie again?” Ethan whispered in her ear, and she felt goosebumps all over her body. How could a voice be that sexy?
“Like… ten times? I don’t know. Why? Am I reciting the lines too much?” she asked embarrassed.
Ethan bit his lip softly, his heart not taking her cuteness “No, just wondering if you could miss five minutes of it”.
“Why?”
“Because I want to kiss you”
“But I wanna keep on watching Robert” she teased as she got closer to the tall boy.
“You’re seriously talking about another guy while I am one second away from kissing the fuck out of you?”
Y/N shrugged “Deal with it”
“As you wish”
The arm rest was stabbing her ribcage but Y/N didn’t care about anything else other than that intoxicating kiss. She didn’t feel anything but the heat of his touch on her waist, on her jaw, on her neck—everywhere. And Ethan didn’t care about anything else but her soft lips, the feel of her fingers on his hair, the little whimpers she was making as his tongue explored her mouth.
“Now that I think about it, I can miss the rest of the movie” she spoke against his lips.
Ethan smirked “My house?” Y/N nodded eagerly.
THE SILKY SHEETS FELT SOFT AGAINST HER NAKED SKIN AND THE WARMTH OF ETHAN’S BODY MADE HER WANT TO NEVER GET UP. But it was practice day, so Ethan’s alarm went off, and they both groaned. The night had been amazing, after whispers of ‘are you sure?’ and ‘never have i ever before’, they ended up twisted in his bedsheets and the memory of the passionate rounds were the first thing that came to their minds as they woke up.
“We need to get up, Eth. You have practice” Y/N said as the sleepy boy pulled her towards him.
“But you look so pretty beneath the sun and in my sheets” he whispered, kissing her collarbone.
Y/N blushed “Come on, we have to go”
“We? Are you coming to the practice?” Ethan said excitedly.
Y/N nodded “If that’s okay”
“Yes! Prepare to be left enchanted by my hockey skills”
“I’ve seen you play hundreds of times, Eth” she laughed. “I know you’re fantastic”
“I will dedicate every score to you” he kissed her softly.
“Wow, I’m so excited and honoured” Y/N said in a high-pitched voiced.
“You’re so mean” Ethan laughed. “By the way… are you feeling okay? Aren’t first times painful?”
“Well, my legs feel a little bit weird, but I’m okay. Thank you” Y/N smiled sweetly, and he pressed his lips to her temple.
Was it too soon to say she had, maybe, fallen for him? Could he possibly feel the same? Y/N could only hope it wasn’t just a summer thing for him, because she certainly knew it wouldn’t be for her.
AUGUST HAD SIPPED AWAY LIKE A BOTTLE OF WINE AND SOON CLASSES STARTED AGAIN. And the feeling of anxiety filled Y/N’s chest. What would happen now? Would Ethan break up with Betty or was he going to let the memories of august slip away into just a moment in time? They had never talked about it, they just enjoyed their moments together.
“Well, well, she’s alive! Who would’ve thought?” the voice of Willow, her best friend, filled her ears.
“Hi, my gorgeous beautiful pretty friend” Y/N said with a guilty smile as she approached her.
“No, no. There’s not enough adjectives in the world to remediate the fact that you cancelled our plans all summer” Willow crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“I’m sorry… I need to confess something”
Willow raised her eyebrows “I’m hearing”
“Promise not to freak out? It’s important that you stay calm, we’re in the hallway”
“I promise”
“I’ve been seeing someone during the summer” she whispered.
Willow’s eyes almost popped out of her face “Holy shit! Who?”
“Remember your promise, okay?” Y/N reminded her, and she nodded impatiently. “Ethan”.
Willow didn’t scream, or gasp, or choked in surprise. She laughed. “Oh my god, imagine!” wow, was it that unbelievable? Y/N stared at her with a serious expression and soon Willow realized it wasn’t a joke. “Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N/N? Are we talking about Ethan Landry? Captain of the team? Your brother’s friend? Mr. Popular? Betty Harnkness’ boyfriend?”
“Yes, Willow. Congratulations, you know him!”
“Don’t use that tone with me right now! Y/N he has a girlfriend”
Y/N sighed “I know, okay? And I feel a little bad. But it’s too late, okay? It’s done”
“A little bad?” Willow repeated, trying not to laugh.
“Well, it is Betty we are talking about. And are they really into each other or is just for social status?”
“Yeah… what is going to happen? Are him and Betty over? Are you two dating?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know and no” she answered. “We haven’t talked about it”
“I bet you didn’t talk at all” Willow smirked.
“Actually… we did. I mean, we did have fun doing… physical stuff but we also talked a lot” Y/N said with a smile “He’s so amazing, Willow. He’s so easy to talk to, he’s funny, sweet, laughs at my jokes, takes care of me, compliments me every chance he has, he’s an amazing kisser… he dedicated me every single score he did when he played. It was so sweet”
“Holy shit, Y/N you really fell for him”
“I know” you could almost see the sparks radiating off her.
“Well, lover girl. Let’s go to class, and then you’ll tell me all the details”
And as they walked through the hallway they caught sight of Ethan’s group. Against the lockers were Drew, Julian, Chad, Tara, Mindy, Anika, Betty and Ethan, whose arms was draped around Betty’s waist.
Y/N felt her surroundings get frozen, a knot appeared on her throat and she was pretty sure she was about to cry. Just like that, every hope and excitement left inside her turned into ashes. She wanted to keep walking, but her feet were glued to the floor.
“Fuck, Y/N/N” Willow whispered, as she saw what had left her best friend in such state “Let’s keep walking” she grabbed her friend’s hand and started to guide her towards the classroom.
But to do that, they had to walk past the group. The two friends set their eyes on their goal—the classroom—praying they wouldn’t notice them.
“Y/N/N!” shit no, no no. Willow squeezed her friend‘s hand tightly as they heard Drew calling her. She had no choice.
“It’s okay, I’m here” Willow whispered as they dragged their feet towards them.
“Hi” they said, Willow’s tone was dry while Y/N’s was just low and unstable.
“Hey, just wanted to give you these” Drew said, handing her two tickets. “For the hockey match this weekend. You are going, right?”
“I don’t know. Willow and I have plans” Y/N said, only looking at Drew.
“But it’s our last match. And we’re pretty confident we’re winning, with our star player right here” Drew said, patting Ethan’s arm. The boy laughed, and Y/N felt her heart clench at the beautiful sound.
“Yeah, Y/N/N come on. You enjoy hockey” his voice addressing her did nothing but make her want to cry in the spot. Was he mocking her? Y/N didn’t look at him, and Willow threw him a dirty glance.
“Y/N’s thing is to stay home with her lame romantic comedies” Betty’s annoying voice said.
“Shut up, Betty” Tara said harshly.
“Please? I really want you there” Drew told her.
How could she say no? She loved her brother “Okay, okay. We will be there” she faked a smiled so he won’t see how miserable she was feeling.
But he was her brother, and knew her like the back of his hand “Hey, what’s wrong?” he grabbed his sister by the cheeks, eyes reflecting how worried he was.
“Nothing” god she felt so pathetic. It was now obvious she was about to cry. And she was doing it in front of her brother’s friends, the boy who broke her heart and his girlfriend “I need to go to class, see you later”.
By the end of the day, Y/N felt absolutely defeated. Her energy was drained, the knot on her throat didn’t want to go away and her mind was making fun of her by replaying the memories of her summer love thing with Ethan. But as if God took pity on her, the last class of the day got suspended so she got to go home early.
But apparently it was the Let’s Make Y/N Feel Like Shit day, because Ethan had been waiting for her in the hood of her car, with his perfect mullet hair and his hockey jersey that looked absolutely amazing on him. She had no escape.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she spoke. Now she felt furious, how dare he show his face after that morning?
“I needed to talk to you” Ethan said in a soft voice.
“I have things to do. So, I’m really sorry, but not right now”
“By ‘things’ do you mean go home, make cookies and watch 10 things I hate about you?” he asked with a knowing smile.
“Don’t act as if you knew me” she spitted in anger.
The smile fell from his face “I do know you, Y/N/N”
“Well then, you might’ve realized that I don’t want to talk to you at all” she said, trying not to let the tears fall. Why was he there? Wasn’t the pain he put on her that morning enough?
“Please… I- I need to explain what happened. It’s not what it looked like” Ethan said.
“So, you’re telling me that you actually broke up with Betty?” she asked, already knowing what the answer would be. Ethan sighed and shook his head no. “Then it was exactly what it looked like. And you even had the audacity to mock me!”
“What?! I didn’t mock you” Ethan said truthfully.
“Y/N/N come on. You enjoy hockey” she imitated his voice. “You were mocking me. You know I don’t care about hockey, I just cared about seeing you and my brother”
“I- god yes, it sounded bad. But I swear I didn’t mean it like that. It was my way of telling you everything was okay”
“What the fuck?!” she laughed dryly “Nothing is okay, Ethan! You are still with her. And I know we didn’t state you were breaking up with her to be with me, but I just thought… I thought you would do it. That we had something going on. I thought it was more than a summer thing”.
“It was more than that, I promise. It was so much more than a summer thing. I’ve never felt something so strong towards someone”
“Then why are you still with her?”
“I… don’t know. I just-she saw me and everyone was watching us… I couldn’t break up with her. I’m sorry. With the match coming up, I didn’t want to add any unnecessary drama… I just thought it wasn’t the right time to break up”
“Unnecessary drama? The match? Are you fucking serious? It didn’t cross your mind how would I feel when I saw you with your arms around her? Well, in case you were wondering it was fucking devastating. I was just telling Willow what an amazing guy you are… how in love I am with you. And then I saw you two… it sucked, Ethan. So I’m sorry if your apologies aren’t enough. Now I need to go”
“How in love I am with you” were the words that resonated on Ethan’s head as he watched Y/N drive away. She was in love with him, and he was very much in love with her too, but he wrecked everything.
“Hey, man. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Drew found him in the empty hallway.
“I screwed it up, Drew. I hurt her”
“What’s are you talking about?” but Ethan did nothing but sob with his head in his hands. “It’s okay, man. Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay”
But Ethan didn’t know if it was going to be okay. He cursed for having been so careless with the relationship, for having though that wanting would be enough. It wasn’t. He should’ve been clear with Betty. His top priority should’ve been Y/N, not Betty nor the hockey match. He ruined it, but he was going to do everything in his power to make it up to her. He was determined to win back the girl he loved.
#jack champion#ethan landry#jack champion x y/n#jackchampion#ethanlandry#ethan landry x oc#ethan landry drabble#ethan landry fic#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry fluff#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x reader#jack champion x reader#jack champion fluff#jack champion oneshot#jack champion imagine
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DC x Marvel Fic Recs
@jas-per11 @letthedeadghostrest
Hello! I saw your post, and I've been meaning to rec some DC x Marvel fics anyways, so I'll do that here. I don't know what you've read, so I'll start with
Peter Parker / DC Series:
The Dark Matter Multiverse Series by @mysterycyclone
Dark Matter is the blueprint for most Peter Parker / DC fics, and it's also fucking fantastic. If you're reading a crossover and don't understand why, without explanation, Peter is talking to ghosts? Why he by default ends up living in a firehouse? Read Dark Matter.
Spider and Bat Friends Series by @emmacortana
So far, 12 well written and hilarious works from my all-time favorite author, Miss emmacortana. This, coming from someone with over 1,500 bookmarks. She's that good.
Bitsy and The Bats Series Series by @wibbwoby
Haven't read this one in a while, so I don't have much to say, but Rated T for Traumatized is an absolute classic.
Pizzaverse Series by Irisen
A heavier read, wherein Peter tries to keep his job, make rent, and has a lot of unfortunate run-ins with Gotham's rogues.
Peter & The BatBoys (Doctor AU) Series by @thepoppypress
Peter is the Wayne family's doctor. He has a... chaotic time. I've only read Part 1, but I am still including this here because it's a series.
Peter Parker needs a hug (From the BatFamily) Series by @true-blue-fool
Shorter fics about Peter bonding with the Batfamily. Part 3 is especially cute.
Spider and Bats Series by @superklutzkent
Peter Parker whump, featuring the Batfam. All of the whump.
Let's take a break and look at some DC x Marvel fics that DON'T feature Peter:
Steve Rogers: Man out of Time and Place Series by RavenclawAngel
After Civil War, Steve gets exiled to DCs earth and builds a new team.
from the nucleus flight Series by @blackkatmagic
Khonshu whisks (Comic) Moon Knight away to DC. Very well written and passionate. If it's not your thing, don't let the Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector tag dissuade you from reading; since it's unfinished, the ship hasn't happened yet, and it's too good of a fic to miss out on.
The Devil's in Gotham (Remastered) by @prince-link13
Matt Murdock moves to Gotham and befriends Jason Todd, his neighbor. Bruce Wayne/Matt Murdock
Marvel/DC Crossovers Series by @bamboozled-and-alone
What it says on the tin. My favorite, part 2, is Matt Murdock taking care of Damian Wayne.
Echolocation Series by Firecat23
Matt Murdock and the bats; though, part 6 does have Team Red, meaning Peter.
Back to our regularly scheduled programming:
Peter Parker slash fics:
Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker
Along Came a Spider Series by @rags-n-bones
Quiet Respite by @faeriekit
I'm not too far in this one yet, but it's Faeriekit, so it's bound to be good.
Peter Parker/Tim Drake, affectionately called redspider
a shining spider web by Selador
Needling by LaughingFreak
How dimension travel can lead to love. Series by Psychic_Queen05
My current Favorite Ongoing Peter Parker / DC Crossovers:
The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin
After the events of No Way Home, Dr. Strange's magic sends Peter to Gotham. He wakes up in another boy's body, and has to deal with the consequences. Part one just ended with a bang, you all should be there for part two, it's gonna be awesome.
Arachnomaly by @songue85
The (Comic) Amazing Spider-Man, being neighborly in Gotham. Plus some sick art from the author.
time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN
Two difficult years after No Way Home, Peter ends up in Gotham, but with a whole lot of introspection. One chapter left; you better be there.
All of the rest, that didn't fit in the prior categories:
Unforeseen Consequences by @mysterycyclone
Gotta Get to Rock Bottom! by @emmacortana
Read the initial notes first.
Set Naked on Your Kingdom by sassydandelion
Peter's Gotham Debut by BlankGeode, Leeavy
This Was Home by @emmacortana
The Peter Parker Theory by nicfics
and even though we are strange and exquisitely scarred by Wingfeather6913
What happens in New York by @violent138
A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba
Ignorance is Death by No_idea_what_Im_doing_lmaooo
One Dead Spider by Miellonek
If you do check out any of these fics, always leave a comment. Authors love those, it’s like catnip to them.
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six
TW: violence, choking, mentions of bdsm, abuse of authority, cops, unfair power dynamics, harassment, body fluids and drug use mentions, mentions of harm/accidents
For California, it’s a bit chilly out this morning. The sun is getting a lazy late start, just beginning to yawn golden orange and fiery yellow over the horizon. Julian’s hair in that light is the high shine of fashion magazine model locs, and you’re, as usual, opening your mouth before you think. “What shampoo and conditioner do you use?”
He seems thoroughly amused. “Honestly? You’re going to be mad about it.”
“Try me,” you prod, slipping inside his little sports car that smells like lemon air freshener and coffee.
He seems a little cramped in the seat, knees bent up and head almost touching the ceiling, and you wonder if he actually even tried to get into this thing before buying it.
“It’s a rental,” he explains.
“Did you get into an accident?”
“A truck hit mine while it was parked.”
“How are you so calm about that? I’d punch someone.”
He looks over at you with a sculpted, raised brow. “I just cannot imagine you hurting a fly, y/n.”
“Flies are innocent, truck drivers are free game.”
He gives you a big laugh that strokes the flame of your ego. “You’re hilarious. I use men’s body wash.”
“What?” Okay, he’s right, you are a little mad. You use shampoo and conditioner that are specifically supposed to soften your hair, but the poof on your head absolutely pales in comparison to his soft, beautiful mane that gets the luxury of … what? Old spice? Axe body wash?
“I told you,” he sings, turning on the engine.
Genetics is a bitch.
He takes you to a fancy little French inspired coffee shop cuddled into the center of an outlet mall with salt lamps and big ferns and comfy chairs. You settle into a nook closests to the sunned windows so Julian can keep an eye on his rental, which is understandable. No part of LA is good to have a Porsche in, but especially not the inner city.
“This is delicious,” you tell him through a mouthful of warm croissant, covering your lips in embarrassment when you realize that your table manners are less than adequately prepared for a date with a doctor.
“They have the best coffee,” he agrees, taking a sip of his steaming latte.
You don’t have time to stop your brain from comparing Julian to a certain cop you know who prefers his coffee black and bitter, or at least that’s what he told you when he saw you drinking your vanilla cream cold foam at the nurse’s station.
Julian is talking, you think, and you’re only half listening while you remember how Tom had snatched that drink right out of your hands and held it up in the air.
“Give it back!” You hissed, reaching up on tiptoes while he laughed at the pathetic rescue attempt.
“Careful, honey, don’t hurt yourself for this pathetic excuse of caffeine. What is it anyway? Is there even coffee in here?”
After he walked away with his discharge paperwork, your coworkers were understandably curious about the tall, puckish cop who fucked with you any chance he got.
Miguel watched his ass move the whole way down the hallway and out the glass exit doors while literally clutching the rosary under his scrub shirt as if a devil had just walked by, then looked over at you. “What a man.”
“Are you alright?” Julian asks, bringing you back to the present conversation with a hand over your forearm. He does seem concerned, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit. This guy is a gentleman and here you are on a date with him fantasizing about the brute that is Tom Ludlow.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You wave away his concern. “Tell me about you, Julian. What do you do for fun? Doctor-by-night, Violin-player-by-morning?
He chuckles. “Nothing that cultured. I like riding motorcycles.”
“Really?” You ask, genuinely surprised and trying to imagine Julian in a gang of bikers with cracked leather skull and snake jackets.
“I love them.” He nods. “I have three that I take for long rides along the coast. You get lost in it, the wind and salt and sand. The rumble of the engine under you.”
“I’ve never been on one,” you tell him, “and I’m honestly surprised you ride them after what we see in the ER. Don’t you remember that guy that had his calf hanging on by a tendon? Or that woman who had half her face missing?”
“Yes, I do. But I go the speed limit and wear the proper gear. And I like the thrill.”
It’s not just the casual t-shirt and worn jeans or the way the light halos his thick silk nest of hair or the roguish grin that makes you see Julian in an entirely new way, now. “You’re wild, Dr. Mercer.”
He licks spilled cream at the ridge of his coffee cup, rubs at the skin of your forearm with his fingers, and winks. You wonder what he would look like between your legs doing the same thing, except with your fingers gripping that luscious hair.
“You should let me take you for a ride, sometime,” he suggests, and for a minute you forget you’re talking about motorcycles.
“Oh, I don’t know, Julian.”
“C’mon.” He nudges your knee under the table and relaxes back into his seat, now reminding you too much of someone else you know. Same height, same hair color, same facial structure.
Fuck. Really?
“Good boyfriends take their girlfriends on long, romantic motorcycle rides.”
“But you’re not my boyfriend.”
His smile droops a little bit and it makes you feel bad for being so illiterately ignorant. Well, you feel bad until he opens his mouth. “I am, though.”
He paints it playful, but it sounds a little bit pushy-bossy, even. “I don’t know about that, either, Julian.”
He tries a different angle. “You know, believe it or not, most women would consider me quite the catch.”
You hope your face doesn’t betray the little bit of ick you get from him saying something so egotistical. “I don’t doubt it, and you deserve someone that can give you what you’re looking for.”
“You think you can’t give me what I’m looking for?” He leans across the table in sudden intensity, and you balk at the notion.
“No, I honestly don’t.”
“Why?”
You start to say something, but he cuts you off. “And, I really mean why? Why can’t you give me what I’m looking for? Enlighten me.”
“I’m not-I have too much baggage.” You unconsciously lean away from his swelling intensity.
“That’s a little vague.” He frowns.
“I’m not normal, Julian. You seem like you would like normal women.” You cringe at the childish sentiment, but truly have no idea how to get the point across except for basically telling him that you’re a freak with a bad past and worse coping mechanisms. You eat slices of bread for dinner and drink out of the milk carton. Julian probably irons his shirts. This will not work.
“You’re assuming I’m normal?”
“Yes. I guess I am.” You lean back and cross your arms over your chest.
“Well, I’m not. In fact, I’ll prove it to you.” He takes out his wallet, pulls a laminated card from it, and slides it over the table to you.
“What..” It’s a little red card framed in black with big bold letters on the front advertising a BDSM club in the heart of downtown Venice. “What is this?”
“BDSM is bondage, domination-“
“I know what that is,” you interrupt. “I just meant.. You go here?”
“I do.” He nods and takes a drink. “I occasionally engage in scenes.”
You decide that you should coat your suddenly very dry mouth and drink a big gulp of your coffee. “Like with a dominatrix?”
He laughs at you, puts his head in his hand and shakes his head. “No. I prefer to be the dominant one.”
You look at-really, really look at this man for the first time and honestly cannot imagine him taking that role.
He must see the confusion on your face, because his laughter grows. “That’s the usual reaction I get.”
Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity killed the-you know what, fuck it.
“So, what do you do at the club?”
“A typical play scene, you mean?” How in the hell he can be so casual and relaxed about this you’re not sure. Because you can already feel the cold sweat breaking along your shoulders and neck.
“I guess? Yeah.”
“Well, ideally the woman is tied up in some fashion, and of course there’s a safe word, negotiated limits. Perhaps a punishment scenario with pain play. Are you okay?”
He looks at your table-clutching, white knuckled hands, searches your face, giving you a genuine concerned expression that makes you wonder what actually is going on with you right now. You feel like you're on a tightrope over a ravine of crocodiles and Julian’s on the other end lazily sawing at the rope with dull scissors.
“I’m fine,” you say breathily, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about all that.”
His gentle smile is nothing less than kind, though maybe also, a little disappointed. “I get that a lot too.”
“Is that…the only way you enjoy sex?” you ask quietly, leery of the blue-haired old lady just two tables away.
“No,” he seems happy to tell you. “Though it is…the way I enjoy sex most.”
You blink, digesting this with understandable trepidation. He’s basically telling you that it would be impossible to be in a relationship with him without dipping into this eventually. And you…?
Are definitely intrigued, and you’re not really sure why.
“You said you have baggage,” Julien probes cautiously. You can feel him looking at you, but you’re not quite up to eye contact with him yet. You fix your gaze out the window. “Well, I do too. I haven’t had a perfect life. No one does, and I’m not interested in a perfect girlfriend. I like you, y/n.”
You feel your breath go out in an audible whoosh. It actually makes him smile-you feel it like rays of the sun. How can this man be so warm, and yet have such a dark side?
Well, maybe it’s not a dark side, you reason. Maybe it’s just…a thing he likes, and between consenting adults, what’s the harm?
“So…” You can’t help but think about how odd this is, discussing this in this coffee shop filled with mild-mannered caffeine addicts. What you really want to ask, is what happened to him that makes him like this kind of sexual play, but you know it would be too far, and you damn well don’t feel like talking about your own fucked up past. But there is something you do feel you have a right to know. “Is this something you want to do to me?”
Again, he fixes you with that bad boy smirk that gives you chills and utterly ruins your panties. “Since the moment you stood up to me over that patient,” he admits. And maybe that should alarm you, that he wants to tie you up and hurt you for being defiant about something that deserved defiance. It does alarm you, but… It also… It sounds a little thrilling. “In fact-“
Julian and the rest of the world and even your own thoughts disappear when you meet a pair of familiar, sun tinted eyes out the window of the coffee shop. He’s grinning-when is he not grinning at you like he knows what it does to your helpless insides?-and licking his fingers, tearing off a yellow parking ticket to slap it under the windshield of Julian’s rental.
“Uh, Julian-“
“Just let me finish,” Julian insists. His bossy tone irritates you, but Tom brightens the mood by making a jerking off motion towards the doctor, and then winking at you.
You can’t help but laugh. It’s honestly involuntary, the loud wheeze that tears from your chest and makes Julian look outside to see the yellow ticket shining under his wiper as Ludlow’s ass saunters away.
You’re not sure what Julian’s plan is when he storms outside to catch Ludlow by the arm, but you’re definitely following ten strides behind to prevent his untimely death.
“I’m parked legally.” His voice is a menacing growl instead of the smooth honey you’re used to, and yeah, maybe now you can see a little bit of that Dominant Persona he was talking about.
“Not after 9AM,” Tom says, unbothered by Julian’s anger, still grinning like an idiot.
“It’s eight-thirty,” Julian argues, tugging on Tom’s sleeve-that earns him a bent back arm and even the appearance of handcuffs.
“Tom, stop it, fucking really?”
“Sorry, honey, your boyfriend’s going to jail.”
“For what?!” You and Julian both demand at once.
“Putting his pristine fucking hands on what’s mine.” Tom tugs Julian up on his toes and clicks one handcuff into place.
You hope he means his uniform, but you have a feeling he doesn’t.
“That’s way too tight and you know it,” Julian grunts.
“What, someone likes to dish it out but can’t take it? Don’t be a bitch,” Tom muses, grabbing Julian’s other arm and twisting it-not gently-behind his back.
“Tom, you fucking dickhead.”
He looks at you as he’s putting the other cuff on your date. “Oh, I’ll deal with you later.” His grin looks more like a snarl at this point, and you think that Julian could probably take some pretty good Dom pointers from Tom, because your heart is galloping and your clit is pulsing despite the absolute absurdity of the situation. Also-it's a miracle-your sassing mouth has snapped shut.
After Officer Ludlow practically throws Dr. Mercer into the back of his Charger, slamming the door, he turns to you with a smirk and his thumb in his belt. Goddammit, if that fucking look doesn’t go straight to your lady parts.
“Tom…you cannot do this.”
A tow truck has pulled up, and is in process of impounding the sweet little Porsche.
He steps up to you in those big black boots that make him a mile tall.
“You’d be surprised what I can and cannot do, sweetheart.”
“Please.” You hate how desperate you know you sound.
He taps his chin. “Well, I do like the sound of that. But it would be a lot more convincing if you got on your knees and said it.”
“You asshole,” you seethe, even as you can feel the moisture pooling between your legs.
“That kinda language definitely isn’t going to get Doctor Bitch Boy out of my car.”
“What the fuck do you want then?” You know it was a stupid question the moment it flies from your mouth. He’s going to reply with something filthy, and demeaning, and-
“Have dinner with me.”
You’re going to need another tow truck just to get your jaw up off the ground.
“You’re going to get in trouble for this,” you say. “This isn’t harassing a lowly broke-ass nurse. He is going to sue the shit out of you.”
Tom just snorts at that, unimpressed. “Did you know your friend likes to hang out at a BDSM club in Venice Beach? Whips and chains and shit? Bet this asshole has mommy issues from here to Pasadena. Come on, y/n, you don’t need that in your life.”
It almost sounds like he’s…worried about you?
Officer Ludlow has no idea how badly he’s misjudged you, now that he’s pissed you off. “Maybe I like it,” you snipe back, stretching up so you’re almost in his face. “Fact is, it’s none of your fucking business.”
Ludlow just narrows his eyes down at you, those dark orbs glinting like sharp obsidian. “Well, sorry, guess he’s not tying you up tonight, baby. He’s gotta cool down in the tank.”
He makes to go, but you reach out, not grabbing him, per se, but just touching his chest. He freezes, and you can practically feel him vibrating beneath your hand. With excitement, because he fucking lives for being an asshole, or…you hate to think you know the real answer.
His mitt of a hand covers yours, holding it just above his heart.
“Tom….” Caught up in this tension between you, you’re not even sure what you’re asking now.
You expect him to say something dirty, or snide, but instead you swear that just for a moment, his gaze softens as he looks down at you. “Dinner?” he asks again, with a note of hope in his voice that is almost endearing, if he wasn’t being such a class A jerk.
“I can’t.”
His demeanor changes in less than a second, drawing up to his full height, his shoulders squared. He flicks down his sunglasses that were on his head, so you can no longer even see his eyes. His voice changes, drops an octave, something. The authority in it makes you shudder inside. “Wave to Dr. Bitch Boy, y/n, we’re going for a little ride.”
Before you can grab him, or do anything, really, Tom is behind the wheel, speeding off with a very pissed off Julian in the back seat.
Your heart drops to your feet as you are left standing there alone on the sidewalk without a ride, and completely at a loss as to what to do.
***
“I’m going to fucking sue you,” Julian grits, kicking the back of Tom’s seat for good measure.
“Yeah, yeah, with your doctor money,” Tom grumbles, taking a big swig of coffee with one hand and steering recklessly with the other because it’s fun to watch that skinny fuck bounce around helplessly in the seat.
“I’m not getting booked tonight, Officer Ludlow. I’m calling my fucking lawyer.”
“Sorry, Doctor Bitch, your Lawyer’s busy until tomorrow afternoon, didn’t you hear?”
“You son of a-“
Tom gasses the car over a big pothole and it sends Julian flying into the opposite door. It’s a sight he could almost get off to.
Julian, big goose egg swelling up on his temple, gets yanked out of the squad car and tossed on the shit smeared, needle peppered streets of South Central. “They probably need you here more than the hospital, Doctor. Have fun–”
“Wait! Fuck. I’m still cuffed for fuck’s sake!” Tom gives the little guy credit for being able to get up on his feet so fast with his hands behind his back and a probable minor concussion. “You can’t leave me here.”
Tom pauses with his hand on the lip of the hot car door, but only to memorize the sight of a sweat-stained, wild eyed, trembling distinguished doctor about to get his shit wrecked on the mean LA Streets. He’s guessing Julian’s never visited much outside of Hollywood, Venice, and Santa Monica, and the cute little horrified expression on his face is testament to that.
Tom taps the hood of his car. “See ya, Doc.”
“You know,” Julian says, “this isn’t going to stop me from seeing her, Tom.”
Well, if he wants a fight.
Tom slams the charger door, whips off his belt, backs Julian up until he falls on his ass into a steaming puddle of unknown origin, and loops the leather around his neck.
He tugs him up by the belt, onto his toes, eliminating that fraction of height difference just so he can see the whites of this prick’s eyes.
He doubles the wrap of the belt in his fist, and Julian sputters something unintelligible through a thick choke.
“What’s wrong? Thought you liked this shit?” Tom pretends to wait for an answer that he prevents. “Oh, that’s right, you like being the one doing the choking. That gets your dick wet, huh? Beating on women?”
He wants nothing more than to choke this fucker unconscious and leave him on the streets for the hepatitis rats to chew on his toes, and, fuck it, if he ends up passing out by the time Tom’s done saying his peace, then so be it.
“You can see her all you want, asshole. Take her on as many dates as you like. But if I see one fuckin’ bruise on her-one red mark on that pretty skin-I’m gonna make the rest of your short life very fucking unpleasant. Comprende?”
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Good Omens Fanfic Friday (05 Apr 2024)
Almost everything this week is canon-compliant/adjacent. For a change there's only one human AU.
Nice And Ominous: a reluctant eschatology of the Second Attempt (series) (84K currently; Rated T/E)
Every so often there comes along a week where I'm absolutely ecstatic to recommend something. I spend all week in anticipation of sharing it with everyone in the hopes they'll love it as much as I do. This week, it's this series, a three-part post-S2 that definitely deserves way more kudos and attention than it currently has.
Part I (rated T) is from Crowley's POV and focuses on him slowly healing from the heartache of losing his angel. He learns to be friends with Maggie and Nina, becomes like a big brother to Muriel, and even gains an almost-friendship with Eric. The story isn't as angsty as it sounds, though Crowley doesn't always have the healthiest coping mechanisms (a tendency to drink and drive across the world). The author does a great job of not putting all the breakup blame on Aziraphale. You can always tell the difference between Crowley blaming Aziraphale in a story and the author blaming him.
Part II (rated T) is from Aziraphale's POV. This story is definitely more angsty that Part I. Aziraphale's up there doing is best, but with only one real (human) friend back on Earth to rely on and trust, he's mostly on his own. Just as with Part I, the author doesn't put the entirety of the blame for the breakup on Crowley any more than he does Aziraphale. Be warned that it ends in a cliffhanger.
Part III (mostly rated T but some E) is still incomplete, but the author posts weekly and the story is already written, so I feel confident we'll see the end. I can't say much about the plot of this one without serious spoilers, but if you read the first two parts you'll definitely want to read Part III. It hurts at times. A lot. If you need mostly fluff right now, this isn't the one for you. (The rest of today's list is pure fluff, though, because I needed it after obsessing over this story).
If you don't like to be left hanging on a story, read Part I, but hold off on Part II until Part III is complete. It won't be too long; the author has already released two chapters since I started writing this note (7 of 14).
This series is incredibly well-written. It's almost certain to make my year-end best-of list, as it's easily one of the best "what happens next" after Aziraphale leaves for Heaven. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all week.
***
Break the Rules (1.4K; Rated G)
Aziraphale has a beard. Crowley loses his mind.
***
In Love We Rise (11K; Rated E)
One of two AJ_Constantine stories on my list this week filled with fluff and gorgeous writing. It's Easter Sunday and Aziraphale is feeling a little down about the holiday. Crowley decides to cheer him up.
***
Bad Communications (series) (15K; Rated T)
Funny post-S2 three-part series where Crowley and Aziraphale are made to realize (by Nina/Maggie and Muriel respectively) that they might not have communicated with each other as clearly as they thought during the Final 15. I particularly love how Muriel is written here.
***
Heaven On Wheels (3K; Rated M)
Aziraphale buys a Scoopy moped and convinces Crowley to go for a ride. The author, CopperBeech, describes it as "a sappy, happy, old-fashioned s1-compliant (and s2-defiant) post-Nopocalypse getting-together fic."
***
Caramel Delight (16K; Rated E)
Human AU. Another wonderful bit of fluff from AJ_Constantine. Crowley is delighted when his terrible neighbors move out and even more delighted when he sees his new neighbor is a gorgeous blond man. The neighborly thing to do would be to bring over a jar of his Nan's caramel sauce as a welcome to the neighborhood gift, of course. Crowley is really dense here; hilariously so. The "they share one brain cell" tag would be appropriate, but Aziraphale is the only one using it.
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Hell Ain't So Bad - Part Nineteen
pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie)
warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, minor violence, swearing, cheating.
summary: Ellie was lost in the world, homeless with no idea what to do and nowhere to go.. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?
author’s note: Unbetaed, readers beware.
tags: @spicywhenspeaking @bngurngheart @cncohshit @valiantroeagleangel @blackveilomens @dominuslunae @tearfallpixie @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @notingridslurkaccount @lyschko666
Tags are open feel free to ask.
Ellie ran, she just ran, nowhere in particular at first and just found herself wandering down the street, the tears came and didn’t stop, she didn’t know what she was doing, she didn’t know what to think, there was no handbook for this. She was dead.
Of course, she remembered talking to Jolly and Folio about being dead more than once over the months gone by, but neither of them had seemed to want to go into much detail about how they felt about it. Just how they felt like this was a second chance. Scoffing, great, as if that didn’t feel telling now, they didn’t want to talk about it because they knew, and they didn’t want to give anything away. They knew, and they didn’t want her to feel worse when she found out. Talk it up, sure, but that wasn’t fair. She would have preferred brutal honesty, not platitudes. Ellie had had that far too much in her life.
She was dead.
She was dead.
She was… DEAD.
How had she died? When had she died? Walking down the street, her feet stumbling along mindlessly, did it matter, did any of it matter any more? It wasn’t like it felt like her life had mattered, to anyone for that matter. She’d been homeless, jobless, and just when it had felt like her life had started to matter in any meaningful way, it turned out she had really died.
Just when she thought that her life could actually get better, that she could actually do something, be someone, love someone… she sobbed at that thought. A fresh pool of tears stung her eyes as she thought of Noah, how he’d been lying to her for months, hiding the truth from her. She could have handled it, she swore, it would have been hard to accept, but she could have worked through it. If Jolly and Folio were able to, why couldn’t she? Why were they given the benefit of the doubt, and she was treated like, some sort of, freak?
Was she being punished?
Was that it?
Was this her punishment?
Some psychological torment like in that, that, tv show, what was it called again? Oh, she couldn’t remember. All she remembered was Noah had gotten a good kick out of watching it with her. Fuck, was that why? Because he thought it was hilarious that he was watching some sort of inception fantasy moment?
Was that all this was? Were they supposed to string her along and make her feel absolutely wonderful until they pulled everything out from under her feet, ripping her apart inside and out? Could they have been that heartless? None of the people she’d met here had seemed that way.
This was Hell though, they could be tricking her from the start, Hell, but not Hell, the Afterlife. What the hell was that even? Right from the very beginning, it felt like she’d been going around in circles.
Now nothing made sense.
Nothing.
And she’d fallen in love with a liar all over again.
Taking in a deep breath, at least she knew she wasn’t going to have to leave Hell any time soon anymore, but now she also had to figure out what the fuck she was going to do here now. What that even meant, though, she didn’t know, but for now, she found her way back to her apartment. She was tired, she was tired and all she wanted to do was climb into bed and never move again, because she was all cried out right now.
A week passed, and Ellie didn’t see another soul in Hell, not another soul living OR dead for that matter. The only other people she even talked to were on the phone when she was ordering food that was delivered to her door and left there at her door, by request. No, she didn’t even want to see who dropped it off, she just didn't feel like interacting with anyone. Sure, she knew isolating herself like this wasn’t healthy, but what did healthy really matter anymore, what could happen to her now? She’d get sick? She’d die? Oh, wait. Right. She was already dead. Ellie probably didn’t need to worry about that then, huh? Exactly.
Okay, so, maybe she shouldn’t be that bitchy to herself, but really, what was the point in trying to do all the things she was told to do while she was alive? It was like Folio drinking himself stupid with those shots. He would have destroyed his liver with alcohol poisoning long ago she was sure the way he knocked those back if he were still alive, but, here, in Hell, he didn’t have a single problem. Either way, she was just fine.
It was a week to the day she was holed up alone in her apartment, avoiding the rest of the world, the rest of Hell, when there was a knock at the door while she was waiting for her dinner to be delivered, she was waiting on pizza. At least today she’d changed out of her pyjamas, not every day she’d managed to, there had been some she’d just stayed curled up on the couch, waiting for the hours to pass by. She knew she needed to figure something out, but the motivation to move, to get up, to actually go out and do something, felt like it was constantly one step forward and two steps back. At least today, was a step forward kind of day, and she’d gotten dressed.
When the knock happened, she walked to the door, she waited for a moment, hearing the delivery guy shuffle on the other side. Swallowing, she spoke through the door, hopefully loud enough the person on the other side could hear her.
“Please just leave it by the door, and thank you.”
At least she still had her manners, right? Step forward kind of day. After another moment, she waited to see if she could hear movement on the other side of the door, and she heard the faintest shuffle of feet, and then nothing. Assuming that the delivery person on the other side had left her food on the floor by her door like she asked, and left, she sighed, thankful to avoid another person.
Maybe tomorrow. Maybe then she’d open the door while they were here.
Maybe she’d answer one of the countless messages she was constantly getting from her friends.
Maybe.
However, when she opened the door, the person that had been on the other side, the person that had been knocking and waiting for her, wasn’t gone at all.
Nicholas was standing there with her food, silently waiting for her to open up.
“I intercepted the delivery kid in the foyer downstairs before he made his way up, and I figured I would save him the rest of his trip since I planned to come up and see you anyway.”
Ellie just stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to say. When she didn’t say anything, he spoke again, his voice still as gentle as always.
“Can I come in?”
Pausing, Ellie’s lips pressed together before finally, she gave in.
“I’m going to be honest, I am extremely surprised that no one has just teleported in here and refused to leave.”
Her voice deadpanned as she spoke, completely blank as she spoke. By no one, he knew who she meant, the other demon lord they both were acquainted with. There had been more than a few times in the months that he had been all forceful, and pushy, and she had to shove him back into his place unless she was willing to just go along with it. Just like that first night that they’d spent together, with the weapons training, when he’d tried to push her into it, and she’d pushed back. She hadn’t caved with his threat of her bat.
“He wouldn’t do that Ellie, Noah wouldn’t dare, as much as he wants to see you, and he does, he is desperate to come see you, he has waited outside your building when he’d messaged you begging for you to respond, hoping that you’ll say something, anything to him.
Her lips pressed together slightly, she didn’t want to talk about Noah, she didn’t want to know that he was practically stalking her when he had known what she’d gone through and made her go through it all over again. Lying to her.
“If I let you come in, no Noah talk, we don’t mention him at all. Deal?”
When Nick paused for a moment, Ellie stood firm, she crossed her arms and his eyes narrowed. She went to grab the pizza box, but he moved it out of her reach too quickly for her to get it from him that easily.
“Oh come on, Nick, I don’t want to talk about Noah, take it or leave it.”
Glaring at him, Nicholas sighed for a second before he relented and nodded,
“Alright, alright fine, deal.”
With that, she let out a soft breath, thankful he accepted, and she wouldn’t have to deal with a stalemate at her door, stepping back into her apartment and giving him room to come in. Once he stepped past her with her precious pizza, and garlic bread balanced on top of the box, of course, she hadn’t forgotten the garlic bread, that would be sacrilege, she closed the door behind him.
“Bring it over, and set the food on the table, don’t worry, I can share. Long as you don’t eat it all.”
She was willing to sacrifice a few slices, Ellie didn't need to eat an entire pizza all to herself. This week she’d probably had leftovers for breakfast once or twice too many times as it was. Nick chuckled as he set the pizza box down on the table, moving to sit with her so they could eat. Flipping the box open, she reached for a slice.
“Look, Ellie, about not telling you about your status, that’s on me.”
Ellie didn’t want to look at him as she sat down at the table and held her slice of pizza, not wanting to think about everything that had happened, all the lies, all the issues that had come up.
“To be honest Nick, this last week, I’ve been trying to figure out in my head, what’s real, what’s not, how to make sense of everything. I don’t know what to think. Nothing makes sense. I got a job, Nick, you gave me a job.”
She dropped the slice of pizza back into the box. Suddenly, the food didn’t matter anymore, she didn’t feel hungry as much now that they were talking about this. One second she was starving, and the next, nothing.
“It was my decision, when I got your file, I went over the information and decided that with your history, you would struggle with the transition. Others have too, and then when you got here, you flourished so well. Like Jolly, you could have re-incarnated at any time you wanted, you could right now if you wanted, we’d miss you, but you could.”
She swallowed, reincarnation, being reborn into a whole new life, she’d never thought about that for herself, not even since she found out that she was really dead.
“So this, this isn’t a punishment, this is just, living? Living in the afterlife?”
Nicholas’ breath caught for a second when she asked if this was a punishment, and the thought that she’d spent the last week thinking they’d been punishing her and that was why they’d been hiding all this from her.. Oh, that was a horrible feeling.
“Oh El, no, oh no this isn’t a punishment, sweetheart, no. This was me getting too close to you as a friend, I fucked up, and I made a mistake. I’m not supposed to become friends with those I watch over Ellie. I got too close, and wasn’t objective.”
He was facing the music now, knowing he’d messed up and hurt her even worse.
“I know it doesn’t make up for any of it, any of the pain I’ve caused you, but, I am so I’m sorry, for everything.”
It was his fault, he knew he should have been honest with her sooner, the moment he knew she could handle this place. Even if it might have been a shock, he was sure she’d have handled it better with the truth told to her by a friend rather than by that horrible woman.
Ellie’s head was in her hands a little, her fingers running through her hair as she leaned forward, her elbows propped on the table, just trying to breathe, Nick could see she was struggling, he wanted to reach for her, comfort her, but he wasn’t sure how well she’d take that right now. He was lucky she’d let him in at all.
“Ellie?”
Lifting her head from her hands to look at him. It pained him to see him like this.
“How, how did.. How did I die?”
Nicholas sighed, and he shook his head slightly, yeah, that was a sensitive topic.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Especially considering she didn’t remember, or, she did; she just didn’t seem to want to acknowledge it. Seeing her nodding quickly, yes, she wanted to know,
“Yes. I want to know.”
Nicholas paused, he knew this by heart, he knew her whole file back and forth by now completely, having read it far too many times already.
“Exposure, your cough, you got an infection and you never recovered. When you came to see me, your cough, you died in your sleep. Steven found your spirit under the bridge and directed you to me. I’m sorry Ellie.”
That damn cough, she remembered the blood, the pain, not being able to breathe, and the fact that after he’d given her the tea she’d suddenly been able to breathe.. Oh.. that.. Sighing.
“I knew Mama Ruffilo’s tea was too good to be true.”
Nicholas grinned at that, a soft chuckle escaping him.
“She is proud of her tea, and it does have calming qualities, but no, it's not a miracle tea, it was just something to soothe your throat. A placebo so you’d stop coughing and reset, considering you were no longer in any pain. The body was just echoing everything.”
Her lips pursed together slightly.. Next question,
“Why did I go through the gate instead of the office? Why all the song and dance with the interview? What the fuck, Nick?”
Nicholas nodded trying not to smile, they were serious questions, but the fact that she was calling him out on his shit, well, she did deserve answers at least, even if he doubted they were very good ones. Her demands reminded him of when he never let Noah get away with his shit. At least she’d keep him in line. He certainly didn’t want to be the one doing it forever!
“Like I said, I went over the information in your file. I assess every soul that comes through my desk, I admittedly don’t speak to every soul in person as I did with you, but I could tell I needed to with you, hence the interview, your file came up with, flags.”
He wouldn’t call them red flags because what Ellie had gone through in her life hadn’t been her fault, she’d endured a lot at the hands of others torment, endured so much that had been out of her control. He knew he was probably more cautious than others in his position, but he’d wanted to watch out for Ellie.
“Religious trauma for one at the hands of your stepmother and father, among others. Even before I spoke to you I knew your case had to be handled delicately, but when I met you, that solidified it. Hiring you, and giving you a job, was a way to integrate you into the Afterlife and transition you slowly, gently, it was supposed to be a process. I was supposed to assess your case and inform you of your status when I saw you were ready, and as I said, I got too close, and I didn’t do what I was supposed to. I was never supposed to be your friend.”
Taking in a deep breath, that, she could understand. It wasn’t a good thing, but she could understand being blinded by it. She wanted to kick his ass a little for it, tell him off for being a complete idiot, but, she’d probably been a bit of an idiot too looking back. Had she met even one other person in Hell who claimed to be alive, even one? No. That should have told her something.
Breathing out heavily as she rolled her shoulder. Nodding slightly.
“Okay, okay, now I’m hungry again.”
Moving to reach for the slice of pizza she’d abandoned, she lifted it from the box and took a bite to calm the rumbling in her belly, hungry as she was. Even if she was dead, she still got hungry. It was impossible and confusing. As she swallowed her bite,
“Okay, maybe I forgive you, maybe, I could use some more grovelling from the others. Don’t think I’ll forget this any time soon, though, you’ll be reminded about this forever and a day, I promise you that.”
Another bite, letting the perfect pizza satiate her hunger, and she’d admit, talking to Nick was making her feel better, even if she didn’t feel great about any of this.
“They didn’t have a say though, El, it was on me, I was your caseworker here.”
Her lips pursed a little,
“Jolly and Folio can get away with that, but mister demon lord can’t, I don’t care what you say, Nick, he knew how I felt about my ex lying to me, he’s known me for how long now, and he said nothing. Nothing.”
Nicholas just looked at her for a long moment before he let out a heavy exhale, he picked up a slice of pizza as she spoke again.
“I don’t know if I can forgive him, Nick. I just, I don’t know.”
Another man, another relationship that had been shrouded with a massive secret that had felt like her heart had been ripped out.
He didn’t know if there was a thing he could say to help Noah, to help Ellie, but at the same time, he knew he had to try, and he wasn’t doing it for Noah’s benefit, he could see the pain in her, it was almost palpable. Nick hadn’t been lying about being her friend, it had been his fault here, and he wasn’t giving that up, it was his screw-up and he owned it, the least he could do was help her now, even if it meant telling her what Noah had tried to do, something that could easily get Noah in trouble if others found out. If the wrong demon found out, Noah could get busted back into the ranks. Not that Nick planned to tell anyone else, only three people and the walls of his office knew.
“He loves you, he loves you so much that he was willing to challenge my handling of your case. He came to my office that morning to tell me that you should be told, I asked if he thought you were ready, and he said he didn’t know. It’s not his job to assess people, and he was there to challenge me on holding back when the file on your stepmother’s death arrived.”
Swallowing her bite of pizza.. She wasn’t sure how dangerous that was when it came to demons, but that didn’t exactly sound good.
“Well, I’ll keep that in mind. I just, he kept it from me Nick, I need time.”
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
#bad omens#noah sebastian#fanfiction#bad omens cult#bad omens band#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fic#noah sebastian x ofc#original female character#hell au#demon noah#noah sebastian fanfic#nicholas ruffilo#original character#demon kink#noah bad omens#bad omens au#slow burn#fic: hell aint so bad#angst
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End of Year Fic Recs
I was tagged by @swanmaids and @grey-gazania. Thank you both <3 The year hasn't ended yet, so I can post this.
Inviting all tagged authors to participate if you haven't already.
Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).
Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.
Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies).
Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.
Five Series/Multi-Chapter Fics
1. By Treason of Kin Unto Kin by @amethysttribble
This epic Silm/aSoIaF crossover is the third part of Tribble's Everlasting Song series. It's gripping, fantastically written and very carefully thought out. You won't regret checking out how the sons of Feanor, reborn in Westerosi noble families, navigate the aSoIaF world.
2. The Valiant by whyyesindeed
Reborn Fingon returns to Beleriand to find his husband just before the Third Kinslaying in this beautiful and touching fic. It has a sequel too, which I haven't read yet, but I'm sure it's just as well-written as the first part.
3. Celechwes Fixes the Noldor by @tanoraqui
To my shame, I haven't finished this fic yet, but I can't recommend it enough. Celechwes - who marries both Fingon and Maedhros - is a delightful protagonist, the story flows so smoothly and is so much fun to read, while also being very moving.
4. The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant by @melestasflight and @polutrope
All seven sons of Feanor court Fingon in this hilarious, brilliant and inspiring fic. I had so much fun reading it, and if you haven't yet, please do yourselves a favor.
5. For We Walk by Faith, Not by Sight by an_evasive_author
This fic began in 2019 and continues to this day, and I still love it like before. Post-Thangorodrim and beyond Russingon with canon divergence. It is exceptional but deals with a very heavy subject-matter, so make sure you read the tags.
Five Single Chapter Fics/One-Shots
1. Tender Morsels by @sallysavestheday
Everything Sally writes is brilliant, but this one did something to my brain. Dark romance (like cannibalism dark) and Russingon coupled with perfect prose. It makes me go insane.
2. Project Requirements by @searchingforserendipity25
This short supply list by Miriel will delight you and break your heart. The author is an expert in this.
3. The knife that shapes the knife by @quixoticanarchy
This OC-centric fic is a careful, heartbreaking study of observing without acting, going with the flow until you sink into evil when you were trying to do good. It stayed with me for a long time.
4. enemy of good by @welcomingdisaster
Every single fic by the author could be here, I chose this one because it was the first one of I read. Maedhros is going through some stuff and tries to resolve it through bondage and sex. Incredible characterization and writing. Russingon, E-rated.
5. post mortem by @swanmaids
Examination of four Feanorian bodies post-Second Kinslaying - a brilliant idea, executed perfectly. The clinical description doesn't take away from the horror, on the contrary, adds to it.
Five Oldies but Goodies
1. No Way You Can Fall by @hhimring
Himring's Maedhros is one of my absolute favorite Maedhroses ever. This fic takes place post-canon with Maedhros freshly out of the Halls meeting a suspicious Fingolfin at Fingon's house. It is written with so much care and gentleness. It warms my heart every time I read it.
2. Tributary by @oopsbirdficced
It's a Spirited Away/Silm fusion and it's Russingon! What's not to love? Adorable, beautiful and magical, I still remember this fic from time to time, even though I read it so long ago.
3. In From the Cold by @dorwinionwhining
Short but so sweet and so well-written Russingon ficlet. The tenderness and their easiness with each other kills me. So good!
4. fools enough to love each other more than we can bear by @potatoobsessed999
After the Nirnaeth, Maedhros receives braids with golden ribbons from Morgoth. Now he has to decide if he should go and save Fingon. Unbearably painful and so good. I can't bear to reread it because it hurts so much.
5. Testrun by goldtoashes and heirsofbrokenlegacies
This is just one part of the authors' series Grow as we go. It's a Modern AU that includes pairings Maedhros/Fingon, Maedhros/Sauron, Sauron/Celebrimbor and even Maedhros/Sauron/Fingon. The whole series is amazing, but this part is my favorite because it's just Maedhros and Fingon in domestic bliss. The series is E-rated, this one part is M-rated.
Five Fics of My Own
1. Lady Makalaurë Fëanáriel Dying of Poison, Late Second Age, Artist Unknown
Post-canon Maglor wanders alone in her spaceship until she discovers something that Gil-galad has to know. This fic doesn't get much attention, which is understandable (it's an AU, a Space AU at that, genderbent and Maglor/Wife), but I loved writing it and I still like it. This was my second TRSB fic this year, and it's the first time I wrote two fics for this event, so I'm pretty proud of it.
2. My cannibalism ficlet and it's companion the other cannibalism ficlet
The first one is quite tragic because I like tormenting Fingon. The second one is lighter in mood, but it's still about cannibalism, so.
3. Alone in the Unknown
The angstiest thing I've ever written. It's the latest part of my Fingon Lives AU. This one focuses on Maglor and his futile attempts to bring Maedhros out of his near-catatonic state.
4. Fingolfin and Fingon and later Maedhros and Fingon discuss some heavy subjects
Not to be too modest, but I think I did some of my best writing here. Fingolfin has fears that Maedhros might be under Morgoth's influence and shares them with his son.
5. Now a Quill, Now a Sword
Maedhros and Fingon's relationship told mostly through letters. This fic deserves a click just for @melestasflight's absolutely stunning art embedded in there if not for anything else. It was a pleasure collaborating with them.
#silmarillion#silm fic#fic rec#zwc fic#a lot of these are russingon of course#but there are a few others
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Fic recs based on what bits of s2 promotion made you go 👀
So obviously we only have a couple days left and I shouldn't have put this off for so long, but I've been making connections between fics I've encountered and questions raised by the teaser, trailer, and BTS video and thought I'd share some of them. Light (extremely light, like you've just emerged from an isolated cave light) s2 spoilers possible, although it's still mostly speculation?
Anyway this obviously got very long, so I'm throwing in a break now so I don't slow your scroll.
Maybe time in nature helps Ed do some healing?
Fallow Land & Bigger Sky, which I can't ever seem to shut up about was such a rewarding and healing read for me. Especially recommended for people who are interested in Ed's inner life, healing journey, and coping mechanisms, maladaptive or otherwise. Also folks who are excited for him to have an animal friend like Stede Bunnet, although in this fic it's a sweet little black lamb that he sometimes carries around in his shirt.
It begins with Ed having spent a year since The Dock living incognito on a remote (but not deserted!) island trying to get his head around everything that happened and looking for something like peace, however he can get it. It's written in an evocative, poetic way and includes some incredibly lovely flashbacks, believable character growth, important realizations, and tender emotional moments. The vibes are more pastoral than castaway, but Ed is still given time and space to do the work he needs to do in rugged, isolated surroundings so it still scratches that itch for me.
[There are definitely some triggers to be aware of but it feels like the author did a good job of mentioning them at the beginning of each chapter.]
Maybe they do some healing together?
There's no need to reinvent the wheel so I'm going to borrow heavily from an earlier post I made about healing and fanfic two make the case for these two:
Brace Yourself and Nestle into Me: The premise is that Ed and Stede figure out that they're into each other around episode 7, and they're deliriously happy to know that they feel the same way about each other. But Stede has some (understandable) sexual dysfunction around being queer thanks to the horrible society that he grew up in. Ed is a darling trying to help him through it all, and along the way he realizes he also has some of his own hangups he needs to work through, and that they can both support each other's healing.
I appreciate that this one doesn't treat healing like a straight line because it never is, and emphasizes that trust can't just be implicit, you really have to talk it through as a crew, even if it's just a crew of two broken middle-aged men who are desperately in love with each other. It also gets into some of the stuff I've been talking about on here about grieving your former selves and the selves you never got to be, which was validating as hell. That sounds heavy and there are concepts that are literally part of modern therapy modalities woven into the story, but there are also warm and loving and hilarious moments too, including this gem:
“Also can you just imagine how proud little horny baby gay Stede would be know you would be to know that whatever he went through, today you’ve got your own ship and are getting completely railed by Blackbeard? I mean, just absolutely dicked down by the most famous pirate in history? He would lose his mind.”
Adrift Between the Dreaming Seas: Based on my usual filtering on ao3 I probably never, ever would have come across this fic if it weren't for a recommendation someone posted here. It's got fantasy elements, allegory, metaphors stacked on metaphors, talking animals, and so many other things that would have kept me from ever discovering it on my own. My life would be poorer for it.
Basically Stede is cursed to be a lighthouse keeper on an island that seems to move around the world. Animals show up and the ones who talk to him are members of the crew, and Ed is an actual kraken. It's all this symbolism about monstrosity and trauma and maladaptive coping and the messiness that is Stede's kindness scraping against his self loathing. I shed tears of many kinds along the way, and it made me think hard about community and recovery and the things we do to and for ourselves and others.
It's just a lovely little gem of a story that made me feel so much so deeply while also making me laugh much more than I was anticipating. I'm so glad I gave it a chance.
Maybe there's a massive, life-altering storm?
A World of Tempestuous Things, which is nearly finished and has been such a rewarding, moving journey to follow as it explores another take on their reunion story. There's the expected angst and misunderstandings, but also wit and warmth and longing and rage and these casually devastating historical asides, some of which still haunt me out of the blue because of the staggering and inescapable nature of the passage of time. Speaking of passages and being haunted, dig if you will, this picture:
so little time to dwell amongst strangers as a citizen of the world will never, ever stop reverberating in my head like a cymbal crash and I guess that's just something I live with now. @lostakasha, you've given me the existentially beautiful prose version of tinnitus.
Maybe Stede's slut party era is finally upon us?
If so, good for him, he deserves it so much.
When the Light Shines In is a missing scene/lightly canon-divergent take on s1e06, if you just like the idea of meeting a jolly version of Drunk Stede (vs that "unhand me or bleed" guy, who is hot in his own way or course but can't beat messy earnest bossy Stede in my opinion). It's set immediately after the fight with Izzy. Ed is patching him up and trying not to vibrate out of his own skin, while Stede is affectionate and chatty and besotted whether he knows it or not, and steadily working his way through a bottle of rum for the pain. So not really related to season 2, but it will still scratch that same itch and make you smile real big.
Well, I Ain't Tactful is actually set during season 2, inspired by the moment in the BTS video where Ed sees Stede getting drunk with his new leather buddies. If you asked yourself what might happen if Ed felt compelled to keep an eye on Sloppy Stede and tuck him in with a glass of water, then this one will be fun. Ed is caring and lovely about it all even while still being a bit mad at him for everything, and Stede is a mess but so sweet and still so, so in love.
Maybe we'll get to see young Ed on Hornigold's ship?
There's no evidence of that so far beyond the whole ghost of Hornigold thing, but it certainly would be a treat. But even if it doesn't, if the idea of more young Ed appeals I cannot possibly recommend the pre-canon Never Shall We Die enough.
Now there's no getting around two crucial things that may be dealbreakers for some people: first, it's long. It's very, very long. Second: it's a WIP. Only one of two I've allowed myself to follow in this fandom so I don't get overwhelmed or bogged down. But!
The writing is so impeccable that it stands head and shoulders above almost everything I've ever read on ao3 and honestly above a lot of commercially published original fiction I've encountered in the same span of time since I've started it. The settings are deliciously (and sometimes, due to the realities of life on a pirate ship, disgustingly) immersive, the action scenes are perfectly paced, and the emotional beats, when they hit, hit hard and ring true and stay with you.
Starting at at age 13, young Ed's growth and development over time is equal parts rewarding and harrowing. Threads are pulled together from canon and from earlier parts of the story to coalesce into a portrait of a living, breathing version of our favorite guy trying to find his place in the world, stumbling along the way, and eventually realizing that if he wants a place he'll have to make it himself. The secondary characters leap off the proverbial page too, and the connections he does or doesn't form with them have interesting, believable fallout for everyone involved.
I mentioned action scenes earlier, but I want to circle back around to them again because NSWD takes Izzy's season 1 comment about Blackbeard being the greatest sailor he's ever known and says the same with its whole chest. I know I'm not alone in hoping to see Incredible Sailor Ed in season 2, but in the mean time this is more than scratching that itch for me. We see Ed set foot on his first ship with no skills beyond attracting (mostly) unwelcome attention and observational skills that become the foundation of his later abilities with the sea and with the art of fuckery. From the outside he looks like a savant but on the inside he builds his skills slowly over time, delighting in learning new things and seeing a plan come together. But best of all, he delights in the skills of others, eagerly learns from them when he can, happily teaches what he can to the few people he trusts, and takes pleasure and pride in their own success.
I could literally keep talking about this fic until the next chapter gets posted, but the good news is that happens regularly! I know it can be tough to trust a WIP but I for one am so thankful for the moment of poor impulse control that led to me starting this one. New chapters come roughly every two weeks, and looking at @tresdem's output elsewhere helps me feel secure that we'll actually get to the end.
#fic recs#ofmd s2#ofmd season 2#ofmd spoilers#ofmd season two#ofmd season 2 spoilers#ofmd speculation#ofmd s2 spoilers#ofmd s2 speculation#ofmd s2 trailer#ofmd s2 teaser#ofmd bts#I literally can't think of any other tags to save people from spoilers but I'll add them if they come to me#gentlebeard#blackbonnet#edward teach#stede bonnet#ed teach#not queued#ed x stede#edward x stede#our flag means death
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MY FAVORITE FLAMINGO-CACTI HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?! I MISSED YOU! I HOPE YOU'RE TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF WELL! IF NOT I'M BURSTING THROUGH THE SCREEN FOR YOU! Okay, can I ask for a headcannon on how Marco would fall in love with someone on the crew? Like would he be in love with how they act or how they fight? Like have you seen 15 year old Marco? THAT GUY WAS ADORABLE!
Marco the Phoenix x GN!Reader
It's actually been a while since I've read or seen anything related to One Piece so I had to go back and re-watch things involving Marco since I always want to give a rather realistic scenario of the character. I don't do OOC stuff (no, I am not dragging other authors who do that. I'll still read their works and am happy with it, I just prefer to make my OWN stuff realistic)
Anyways, let's move on forward
Marco is not one for a quick-burn nor a slow-burn of a love story but rather, an evenly paced-burn. It wouldn't take him years nor days. Months to properly fall in love yet years to confess, that seems about right.
And he's obviously not one to fall in love with the superficial, although it is an added bonus.
He doesn't just fall in love with the way you act, neither the way you fight
Marco falls in love with the way you interact with the world.
Your honeyed words when speaking to people, the way you tend to sit in the middle of a crowded plaza, happily people-watching in silence. The way you're a cynic through and through yet enjoy romanticizing what can be romanticized, sometimes you're harsh with your words, other times poetic.
It's plain to see when the world has won the battle against you. But never the war, that you are determined to win. And he adores that about you.
He adores how you seem to fight with style (if that's even possible), your eyes in a slightly caving under the wight of their mischief. Your lips pursed to taunt and tease whilst you gracefully dance across the battlefield.
Thats not to say, you haven't had your clumsy moment in the heat of battle. Usually, you'll catch yourself in time, making it look as though nothing happened but you're humiliation will be plain to see (at least in his eyes). Your brow has a tendency of twitching when embarrassed.
He loves watching your interactions with the crew and Pops --- Whitebeard had taken you in upon finding your sickly body aboard some small boat drifting lost at see. Turns out, you had a illness eerily similar to his, or so, the ship's doctor said. Pops had immediately felt some kind of kin-ship and had opted to take you in
You were in a coma for until sometime, upon awaking the doctors and nurses struggled to hold you back --- so stubborn even when at the frailest of states. You demanded to see the Captain of the ship. And you did. You stood before the entire crew (they had been in a meeting) and Whitebeard, your gaze sharp as you profusely thanked him as well as scolded him for wasting such precious resources on you. You even yelled at the man, who had gone to protest your words, that you will simply ignore his words because you were just that stubborn. (you literally said that too!)
"You're stuck with me now, so don't even bother entertaining the idea of dropping me off on some island!"
The scene was absolutely hilarious but it was his first introduction to the type of person you were, the first time his heart lightly fluttered with something more.
After that day, he'd see you helping around the ship. You took to the crew like a fish took to water --- there was just this charm about you that drew people in.
And the fact that you wouldn't allow your illness to hold you back from exploring emotions, relationships, the world --- hell, he once scolded you for singing at the top of your lungs when you fell ill with pneumonia.
You were just that kind of person.
The sort who loved to bring joy to other people's hearts, even if that meant experiencing a little pain on your part.
And in return for all these things you've been making him feel, he'll reward you with subtle touches. Marco is more of an acts of services and subtly physical affections. Hands on the small of your back as they guide through a crowded room, him both reserving a seat during meal-time while also having already grabbed you a plate of your favorite foods before they could run out, standing in front of you to block out the hot sun, reminding you to drink water after a hard day's work, neatening your strays after having had the wind blow your hairs.
To Marco, actions speak louder than words. (The other Division Commanders definitely noticed it but surprisingly kept their mouths shut, except for Pops)
Whenever Whitebeard caught you and Marco within his field of vision, instantly he'd make a comment about how he couldn't wait for the day you got married, hoping that it'd be on his ship and with a specific blonde in mind. But that's one of his more subtle hints. His more bold ones were a bit more crude --- whenever Marco spoke to you, Pops would cry out for you guys to get a room. Amongst others things.
Pops expects a grandchild soon and the baby better resemble a pineapple
To be honest, for all the jagged edges of your persona, you readily turned into a teddy bear when you deemed it necessary. And by jagged edges, Marco refers to your various attempts of shying away when people get a little too close to you.
He noticed how great displays of emotions seem to scare you away; however, he loved how you would subtly adapt to these types of situations. When someone cried in your presence, you'd lightly caress them before looking for someone who could more effectively comfort them. Or when Ace gets a little over excited, a word or two and he'll be running in the direction of a possible victim with your guidance.
You're like him --- mellowed out.
A quiet day sitting where the wind could catch you just right was all it took for you to consider it a good day. Just like him.
It seems like you realized this because not long after, he found you constantly seeking out his presence. It started with you approaching him for some medical supplies or treatments for minor wounds, which soon ended up with you hanging about his office, reading a book. Just overall content to be in his presence.
There also came a time where you felt as though you were pestering him with your preference for his presence. So you took it upon yourself to put a stop to it. Opting to avoid seeking him out so much. For a whole week everyone, who knew whim well, could plainly see his irritation.
For the first time, he found himself hating one particular aspect about you --- your non-confrontational nature.
You were good for confronting injustices, stupidity, amongst others. But emotions? Nah.
It took Thatch luring you into the kitchen with the promise of dessert for him to corner you into your worst nightmare. The confrontation of feelings.
Had the situation not been heavy with tension, he'd have laughed at the comically horrified look on your face as you ate your dessert.
You could seriously be cute at the worst of moments.
But shit, this was you we're talking about. Beautifully stubborn you.
It took him all night to pry your walls down, and even then he still hadn't gotten to the core of your. So he used his secret weapon.
He confessed.
You quite literally fell out of the chair.
After that, the two of you obviously ended up together. Well, at least, after you worked out some of your traumas. Either way, let's just say that when the two of you made it officially, groans and cheers from the crew could be heard around as bags of money were passed around. With Pop's earning most of the bags as he grinned smugly.
It took you guys a year and a half to finally get together.
____________________________________________
(A/N): You're too sweet and undeserving of my sudden abandonment, cries out of guilt. NGL I saw this in my inbox when you sent it out and it both brought me so much joy and so much guilt 😭
Hope you enjoyed!
#marco the phoenix x reader#gn reader#marco the phoenix#op x reader#one piece x reader#one piece#op#reader#reader insert#fanfiction#fanfic#romance#headcanon#one piece headcanon#marco the phoenix headcanon
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It really does seem that getting too deep into niche shipping fandom absolutely kills some people's media literacy. Like, I was reading this interesting anon post on Nancy's blog [X] about following a rewatcher going on about bi lighting and expecting a romantic HEA from fucking Supernatural and it sent my brain off on a tangent.
I mean, I remember thinking literary interpretation in school was so fucking absurd when it got to the point of analyzing a goddamn autobiography and waffling on about the author remembering the grass in the spring being green when they moved as a symbol of rebirth. As absurd as I still think interpreting on that level is? It did work thematically, because the interpretation matches the surface level of the story - that was when the character's life started through a period of growth/rebirth. Did they intentionally mention the grass for the symbolism of the color green, consciously or unconsciously? Fuck if I know (or care, tbh).
The problem with the way hellers (and other similar conspiracy shippers) try to use this kind of interpretation is that they ignore several majorly important factors that apply when you're talking about an open canon rather than a closed one where you know the ending. When you do this with a story that's finished, where you know the whole picture? Even if you're so openminded about what the story could have been despite all genre conventions and other outside information that your brain is on the verge of falling out and rolling away down a hill? You can filter out the noise of potential symbols and meanings that do not match that finished, overarching story. And there is a lot of fucking noise, because our brains really, really like to find patterns whether they exist or not - but most random details are not intentional symbolism, and most symbols do not have one single definitive meaning. With any sufficiently large text (which SPN definitely is), you could pick out enough random symbols and meanings to point to literally any-fucking-thing you wanted as a possibility - but without knowing the end that's no more an indication of what direction the story is actually heading than any other randomly chosen set of symbols and meanings.
In the above example, let's say you don't know anything about autobiographies in general, that author's life in particular, and stopped reading at that chapter to try and predict what'll happen next. Aha, the grass out of the window when they moved in spring was GREEN! Well, yes, that might symbolize growth and the character's life finally starting on a new positive path now. But green can also symbolize naivety and/or hope, and that could have been a brief shining moment of good possibilities before things went even more to shit. Hell, it can also mean jealousy, where maybe it would turn out their best friend who stayed behind got an opportunity they missed because they moved. Not only are those not the only possible symbolic meanings of the color? The author might have also just decided to describe the grass out the window as green because grass is generally fucking green in spring, yo. A major part of the reason someone can sit and pontificate about the ~*deep symbolic meaning*~ of that passage without potentially being obviously hilariously wrong is that they DO know where it ultimately leads and have tossed out the interpretations that explicitly don't fit the story.
What the shippers in question try to do is insist they know what the ending HAS TO BE ... because reasons. As such, every single symbol they find which could potentially signal that ending must be doing so, despite any number of other possible meanings ... because reasons. Naturally the symbols that they find are actually meaningful symbols as opposed to every single other random detail in the story with potential meaning ... because reasons. Then we reach the end of the story and they're oh-so-shocked that because reasons ... isn't a real basis for anything, actually. HOW COULD MY AMAZING INTERPRETATIONS HAVE BEEN SO WRONG WHEN I CHERRY-PICKED THEM SO CAREFULLY? CONSPIRACY! HATE CRIME! WAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! There was never any basis for their assumption they knew those symbols were legitimately symbols with significance, let alone their assumption they knew the ending - other than their own fixation and entitlement.
Just to finally drive the point home about how absurd it all is? In my original autobiography example, we're talking about an autobiography of a famously successful person. Any remotely savvy reader can make pretty reasonable guesses from the genre conventions of autobiographies, that person being Known Name successful, and context in the surrounding text about how important that move was going to be to the author's life to be such a focus - and therefore what things in the surrounding text might be *cough* reasonable symbolic signposts. There's still some potential to be wrong about the particulars of that moment, but it's a more educated guess about where the story is likely to go because of everything you know about the protagonist and the genre.
Similarly, any remotely savvy watcher who has some familiarity with horror fantasy as a genre, who spent fifteen seasons watching a show where everyone fucking dies and two brothers are obsessively and intensely brothering each other to the exclusion of all their other relationships every episode, from every single premiere through every single finale? Nevermind anyone who also basically ever heard the showrunners and stars talk about it? Is not going to reasonably think, oh, hey, this is totally going to end with the single central relationship of the show indifferently separating to turn into a fluffy HEA romcom with random side characters. Even if you take off the ending of that sentence which is "because I totally found a bunch of secret clues in food and lighting that told me so".
It makes no fucking sense on a micro interpretation level of symbolism and signposts, and it makes no fucking sense on a macro interpretation level of genre and overarching themes. But, like, they really wanted it, so who cares about that? Um, all the rest of us who actually liked the show for what it was, not an entirely different thing we tried to convince ourselves it would eventually have to be ... because reasons. Especially anyone who gives even half a shit about how decent storytelling in media actually works.
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Howl’s Moving Castle
Spoilers!!
So, I finished Howl’s Moving Castle (the novel) last night, and now I’ve been up since 4am going through the tags on tumblr. I saw someone say that in Howl’s Moving Castle, both Sophie and Howl are the beauty, and they both are the beast. It got me thinking.
This novel beautifully subverts two tropes: the Beauty and the Beast trope (girl goes to scary castle housing legendary monster and falls in love) AS WELL AS the Princess and the Frog trope (Wherein Sophie is the cursed and Howl is the princess longing for true love).
Beauty and the Beast
So, I’ll be the first to admit that this trope isn’t normally for me. I absolutely understand its appeal. But it’s not for me. But this novel turns it on its head so delightfully I love it.
What is different about Howl’s Moving Castle is, first of all, the girl doesn’t go to the big scary castle against her will. She isn’t a tribute or sacrifice, and she doesn’t go there to free a kidnapped loved one. Nothing is coerced.
This hat shop girl literally forces her way into the home of this terrifying beast (who kills girls and takes their hearts, mind you, oh and has a fire demon) because she wants to sit by the fire. Then she bullies him into letting her stay. It was hilarious as shit.
Secondly, he’s not a dick or emotionally abusive to her. He’s just annoying lmao. He just has normal flaws!! They are comedic in contrast to his reputation and appearances. This supposed terrifying man, this lothario who seduces women, is emotionally needy, melodramatic, vain, and he avoids his problems rather than confronting them. His house is messy, and it’s not even a castle, it’s an illusion.
The descriptions of his tantrums are so fuckn funny and you just know...this comes from a place of experience and affection on the part of the author. And yes, in an interview, the author said that she didn’t need to invent Howl’s dramatics when he got a cold, that’s just what her husband (a medievalist/academic) acted like when he was sick. She was like...I just watched him and wrote it all down.
Another comment I saw in a tag of a tumblr post was someone saying...why do you guys like this guy (Howl)? He’s a mess!
Yes! And that’s the point! His fake castle, his hair dye, his fake reputation, it is all just a slightly heightened version of what we all are. We all project a front. We curate our image. (Can you IMAGINE how insufferable Howl would be if he had instagram???) We all have insecurities, and we all sometimes want more attention and validation than we get.
Sometimes we all want to dramatically slink around the house going ‘oh woe is me, I need a bit of attention’. And so we smile when we see Howl just go for it lmao at least I do. Because of course, despite working overtime to seem more perfect than we are, we all just want to be loved for who we authentically are.
So then of course as Sophie gets to know the real Howl, she also finds out that he is kind. He undercharges poor people for spells, he takes in an orphan and an old lady looking for a rest, and he is very protective of his fire demon, and judges people based on how nice they are to Calcifer.
And again, that’s the whole point. We humans are bundles of kind, squishy hearts, as well as flaws. And we all work overtime putting up images, but in the end, we just want to love and be loved both for our good points, and our absurd, stupid, vulnerabilities and flaws. We want to find value in the soggy human condition.
The Princess and the Frog (where in Howl is the princess and Sophie is the frog)
So, Sophie is cursed into a shape that will (according to fairy tale villain logic) prevent her from finding love. And since the character is a girl, and this book has emotional intelligence, that shape is not a frog, it is an old woman. Women are still valued by society primarily for youth, fertility, and beauty, and are put out to the pasture of invisibility and irrelevance when we get our first crow’s feet. This ‘should’ have been (if Sophie bought into all that) the end of her life, so to speak.
But the absolutely amazing thing is, being an old woman turns out to be Sophie’s secret weapon, her path to self actualization. It gives her strength and courage. She is like...oh, old women can get away with just saying whatever they feel. Oh, people have to be nice to me. And she just gains all of this confidence. Maybe too much! Lol She gets pushier and nosier and more stubborn.
Sophie has flaws too! But Howl falls in love with her too, and again in the theme of genuine love and inner beauty, he falls in love with her just like she is. He knows she is under a spell but he doesn’t know what she ‘really’ looks like. He just falls in love with who she is.
It’s like the polar opposite of the Little Mermaid (Disney version). In that movie, Ariel loses her voice, and the prince has to get to know her in the silence. In Howl’s Moving Castle, Sophie’s voice is amplified by her curse. She just comes tromping into his house, shouting at him. And he loves her for it.
Howl needs her honesty and her clear eyed assessments. He loves that she is protective of his found family (Calcifer and Michael). (They become her family too.) And, despite her complaining, she is very protective of Howl as well. She even goes to save the woman she thinks he loves, even though she is unbearably jealous.
And in the end, his love doesn’t break the spell. Sophie herself lets go of her ‘disguise’. Her elderly persona has become the armor that she wears to give her courage and strength. It is like assistance, or an aid to her personal growth, and when she grows strong enough on her own to make the choices she wants to make, (love Howl, embrace her magic, choose her own place in life) she lets go of it.
Another subversion to the Princess and the Frog is that Howl is the princess. I just love the gender fuckery of it all. Howl is the one who yearns for true love and relentlessly pursues it. It is Howl who wears jewelry, who primps, and who colors his hair.
Men are told that if they enjoy anything associated with the feminine, then they are not men. I hate that. I want people to be able to express their gender however they see fit in their individual ways. So to have Howl be aggressively vain and embrace the trappings of femininity and for him to also be loved and the hero, Idk I just really like that.
Sure, in the end, the fact that he rushes out to save her without doing his hair is a sign that he’s truly in love. But that’s just because he prioritized her wellbeing over his beauty routine that day to save her life. He doesn’t stop being Howl. You get the idea that he’s still gonna be traipsing around in dangly earrings and flashy suits for the foreseeable future. I’ve noticed that on tumblr, the bisexuals have embraced him and Sophie, which is right and good.
So yeah, I love the trope subversions and the idea that we can be messy, flawed, human beings and find humor, nobility, and love in that. All of us. Even princess wizards and even (if you can believe it) eldest daughters.
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Do you have book or author recs? Thank you! ☺️
I’m afraid I haven’t kept up with my reading in the past few years. Last thing I read was “I’m Glad My Mom Died” by Jeanette McCurdy (so good holy shit” but I think everyone knows that book by now. So I am going to rec some of my favorite and comfort books.
This is my favorite book of all time. I absolutely love the way Peter S. Beagle writes. If you love the movie, the book makes the movie so much better. The graphic novel is also a favorite, it’s gorgeous.
I can remember reading Allie Brosh online eons ago. Her first book has the best depiction of depression I’ve ever seen. And the second book in particular means the world to me. I got it a year after my brother’s passing and her talking about her grief over her sister’s death helped me understand my grief and pain. They’re equal parts hilarious and gutting. Absolute favorites that I reread every year if I can.
Anything Carrie Fisher. Just like Allie Brosh she’s equal parts hilarious and gutting. I read this book when I found it at the thrift store I worked at and it’s stayed with me through three moves and more. Read all her stuff, she’s brilliant and I miss her constantly.
This was one of the books my mom had on the shelf she told me not to look at. I constantly looked at it. The artwork in it spoke to me and stuck with me all through my adolescence. There’s a piece of art that I believe is part of my monster fucker origin. But the story is nice and short and it’s really fun.
As a child my mom put on the universal monster movies between Disney viewings to save her sanity. Creature from the Black Lagoon was a marvel to me. The underwater scenes were my favorite. So this book and the creation of the character was the perfect read for me. Millicent Patrick is one of the coolest people to ever exist.
Two of my favorite Beauty and the Beast retellings I think Robin McKinley is pretty much on everyone’s list. Beast is a really fascinating retell from the Beast’s pov, and it still strikes me to this day. (Don’t tell anyone but I stole the Beast book from my high school back in the day).
When I turned 18 these were the books mom bought me for my birthday. Granted, this was also the woman who let me read Interview With a Vampire way too young so I dunno why she thought this would be such a shocking gift. Anyways, these books really introduced me to erotic writing and are probably the reason I’m even here today.
Shout out to @monster-bait this book is so much fun and the characters are enchanting. I really want to get her new book but I’ve been broke and I love having physical copies. (Also I haven’t been reading lately and I’d feel bad if the book just sat there).
I’d love to have suggestions and if any of you have books out there you’ve published you’d like me to read please let me know! I’d love to support my fellow writers here before I buy anything else.
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The Dancing Men (I)
Part 15 of The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221B Baker Street
Word Count: 6.5k (back to normal-sized chapters)
SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST
Previous | Next
Warnings: Sherlock is Sherlock, descriptions of violence and gore, Sherlock is absolutely in love with the reader, slow burn finally working its magic.
Author’s Notes: You know how Benoit Blanc is horrific at Among Us even though he’s a detective, I say the same logic applies to Sherlock. At least that’s my headcanon. I also mixed a request into this chapter XD
John was quite enjoying how the evening was turning out. He sat smugly in his chair across from Sherlock whose face was stuck in a perpetual frown. It wasn’t every day John could say he had the upper hand on Sherlock.
What started out as a simple game of Cluedo, or “Clue” as Y/N had put it, now became an obsession for Sherlock. John chuckled at the sight of his friend. He would have never expected the great Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective to be reduced to nothing over a simple mystery game.
“Professor Plum. The revolver. In the study,” Sherlock muttered.
“Is that your final answer?” John asked. He raised a brow quizzically. Of course, he knew the answer. He had guessed it after the third round but had been so kind as to not tell Sherlock.
Sherlock glared at John. “Positive.” Each letter was enunciated perfectly as it fell from Sherlock’s voice. He was getting on edge, John noted as he motioned to the envelope in the middle of the board game.
Sherlock lunged at the cards and as he flipped them over, a cry of outrage left his mouth. “That’s not possible. Professor Plum. The revolver. In the study. Not Ms. Peacock with the rope in the kitchen!” He yelled.
“Sherlock, it’s only a game!” John laughed earning another glare from Sherlock.
“No, John. It’s not just a game.” Sherlock’s voice was oozing with frustration. He ran his hands through his curly hair and gripped it tightly. He sucked in, an attempt at a deep breath. “Onemoreround.”
“What?” John asked. He leaned forward in concern. Sherlock really was getting worked up over a game.
“One. More. Game. John. But this time–” Sherlock said. “We do it my way.”
“Sherlock that’s not how–”
That’s how John ended up on the floor of his flat. His face got quite comfortable with the ground as Sherlock paced around the room. Watching Sherlock navigate the flat was like watching a child attempt to dance. His steps were jerky and stiff as he ducked, jumped, and twirled around the room. His hand pointed out following along the clues the game has so far revealed. Suddenly, Sherlock dipped out of John’s narrow viewing field. However, he was eager to continue watching his friend obsess over Cluedo.
“Don’t move.” Sherlock snapped.
“Sherloc–”
“Don’t. Move.”
John sighed in defeat. This was going to be a long night. John’s only thought of consolidation was that at least Y/N would be enjoying it. He heard the music she played through the floorboards as she got ready for her date with Jim that night. It was a nice tune, not something John would listen to willingly, but something to keep him distracted as he played the murder victim. He even found himself humming along before Sherlock declared dead bodies don’t hum and threatened to silence his friend with duct tape.
It wasn’t long before the boredom reached John. While seeing Sherlock fret over a silly game was hilarious, being glued to the floor was not. The wooden floor was uneven in some areas and John could swear something sticking into his side. He tried to re-adjust only to earn another harsh threat from Sherlock.
Soon John found himself dozing off; a result of the faint music from below and Sherlock’s muffled footsteps. John would have fallen into a deep sleep if it were not for Sherlock’s sudden outburst.
“I’ve got it!” Sherlock shouted.
John peered up at Sherlock and snickered at the sight. Sherlock looked like a crazed man. His hair stuck out in all sorts of ways, and his shirt was wrinkled and untucked. There were even a few buttons left open. His robe swayed at his sides and he ducked under the numerous amounts of red thread tied around the room. Oh, did John forget to mention the redecorating the flat had gone through?
Not only had Sherlock forced John to play dead, but had also conjured the different murder weapons as stated by the game, took the character cards, and some red thread, and placed them in their respective rooms. Those rooms of course were adapted to be the very rooms of their flat. Connecting each weapon, character, room, and, well, John, were red threads. Where Sherlock had found the insane amount of red thread he did not know, however, what John did know was that Y/N was going to have a fit seeing the state of the flat.
“Hit me,” John said. Sherlock raised his brow in an interesting manner. One that scared John. “No, don’t actually hit me. Just–” John could swear he saw Sherlock’s demeanour fall. “What’s the verdict?”
“John Watson, my dear friend, was found dead in the study at 6.49 in the evening. The suspects are as follows–”
“Can I get up?”
“No.” Sherlock cleared his throat. “Suspects are as follows: Ms. Peacock, Ms. Scarlet, Dr. Orchid, Rev. Greene, Professor Plum, and Colonel Mustard. When each suspect was interrogated, I came to find–”
John groaned. Sherlock was conducting a case. A case for a game. “Get to it!” John yelled.
“Dead bodies don’t speak, John,” hissed Sherlock.
“Sherlock…” John said warningly.
“Fine.” Sherlock walked into his room and emerged with a wrench in hand. It was large and very clearly a real wrench. John grumbled to himself. This was entirely his fault. He had indulged Sherlock too much and now he was going to be murdered over a game of Cluedo. Though, thought John, Y/N would have his back and make sure that Sherlock would pay tenfold. Now that, John was okay with it. “What you didn’t realize, John, is that your old lover Dr. Orchid would be in attendance tonight. She was jealous of you and your success in your career. When she had the chance she cornered you in the ballroom for one final dance with death. A dance that you did not walk away from.” Sherlock raised the wrench above John’s body. “With a wrench, she had found underneath the kitchen sink, she beat you to death.” Sherlock made a few gruesome sounds to what he thought a dying man would make.
“Alright, I get it. I died–”
“Your body was beaten to a pulp. Blood, brains, and bone fragments mixed together like a–”
“Sherlock, I get it!” John yelled. He would have given Sherlock more of an earful if it weren’t for the clearing of a throat. John looked quizzically at Sherlock. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John. Neither of them had made the sound.
There it was again. It came from a man noted Sherlock. He could tell from the pitch. It was too low for a woman to produce. Sherlock also noted that it came from the doorway. Slowly the detective and his friend peered over to the entryway. In the doorway stood a man in his late twenties. He wore a dark-coloured polo shirt and a nice pair of trousers. There was no wrinkle in sight. His hair was slicked back with gel in a stylish manner and he flashed a nervous grin.
The man, whoever he was, was unsure of the scene before him. In fact, he was almost sure that he was about to witness a murder if it were for the ramblings of John; who had to explain the scenario. Finding out that they were playing a game of Cluedo didn’t help ease the man’s suspicion.
“Who are you?” Sherlock asked. His face bore no sign of emotion as he eyed the man in front of him. From just his watch, Sherlock could tell he came from wealth. The golden ring on his finger meant he was married and the fact that it was polished let Sherlock know it was well-loved: a happy marriage. Sherlock noted next was the man’s choice of outerwear. The jacket he so carefully held in his hand was much too thin for the weather London had been receiving the past few days. This led Sherlock to his final conclusion, the man was from out of town, even more so, from out of the country.
A deduction that was proven accurate the moment the man answered Sherlock’s question.
“The name’s Hilton Cubitt.” He introduced himself with an Irish accent and was quick to follow with a hand ready for Sherlock to shake, who quite literally left him hanging. “I assume that your Mr. Holmes?”
“Speaking.”
“Grand.” Hilton smiled in relief. “The whole fake murder thing makes sense now,” he joked.
John let out an uneasy chuckle. “Yeah…what are you here for Hilton?” He cleared his throat and once again realized his position on the floor. It took a moment and some tripping over the scatter thread for John to stand up. He could have sworn Sherlock was displeased to have his “dead body” removed.
“It’d be just easier to show than to…tell,” Hilton clarified. Then he reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small slip of paper. Now this intrigued Sherlock, so he quickly snatched it out of Hilton's hands.
Sherlock’s head tilted to the side with curiosity. A smile grew on his face. John took the peer over Sherlock’s shoulder at the sheet of paper.
“That’s a child’s drawing,” John muttered and he was confident in his deduction. Upon the sheet of paper were small stick figures. Each figure is in a different position, almost like steps to a dance.
“That your idea?” Sherlock. “Honestly, John after all this time I would have thought you’d have a more intelligent answer.”
John elbowed Sherlock in his side. “You’re just still upset after I beat you in six rounds of Cluedo.”
Sherlock clenched his jaw and turned away from his friend. “Then I suggest we get the opinion of another. Someone who is unbiased.”
Immediately, John shook his head. “No, Sherlock. She’s getting ready for a date. You can’t–”
But it was too late. Sherlock had already vacated the flat with the code in hand. John’s mouth hung agape before he asked Hilton for a moment and darted down the stairs after Sherlock.
_______
Y/N quietly hummed along to the song playing on the stereo. She loved to hum or sing. It was one of the things that made her human and to know that she was alive. The feeling of her throat tickled as she mimicked the melody as best she could. One of her favourite feelings besides that of rain dancing across her skin or hugs from those she loved. The way they’d hold each other close in an embrace. It didn’t matter who the hug was from; her parents, Mrs. Hudson, John, Jim, and even Sherlock. There was even some part of her that preferred Sherlock’s stiff but calming embrace to anyone else’s.
Now that she came to think of it, Y/N had been thinking more and more about Sherlock. She attributed the thoughts and feelings to all the events that had transpired in the past few months. Case after case. Danger after danger. It would only make sense she’d need to find comfort in someone who understood. She only really could find comfort in someone who was there. Of course, she had considered talking to Jim, but he’d just worry. He was great like that. He’d worry as a good boyfriend should, but then would just tell her to leave. Just like he did when she told him about the reason she refused to take cabs.
“If it’s dangerous, then leave. Darling, just leave. Come work for me. Somewhere safe.” Those words, Jim’s words echoed in her head. She didn’t want to leave. She loved working with John and Sherlock. She loved helping others. She loved feeling like she was making a difference in the world. Something she doubted she could do working for Jim and his consulting company. Additionally, working for your boyfriend was weird. It felt like a commitment that would soon turn into an obligation. An obligation that would force her to stay, but Jim wouldn’t do that. He was the perfect gentleman. He probably just wanted to keep Y/N safe. Anyone would do that.
Suddenly the door flung open. Only one person would ever just barge into her flat like that. Y/N sighed. She’d have to get the door hinges replaced with the force Sherlock used to swing the door open.
“To what do I owe the pleasure,” She sarcastically questioned. Her tone was an attempt to hide that she was really happy he barged in. A tone that hid she’d be willing to replace her door hinges so long as he kept coming, but it came out harsher than she expected. Something she realized when she saw Sherlock’s dazed state.
“I’m sor—just…” She cleared her throat. “You alright? Clue going well?”
As she said it, she realized Sherlock was more dishevelled than she had ever seen. Was his hair always this curly and out of place? Then Y/N thought of how much she would like to run her finger through his hair. It looked soft, so she imagined it like that. As soft as clouds, or those unbelievably fuzzy blankets you couldn’t help but just run a hand over at the markets.
“You look–,” Stunning. Breathtaking. Like she’d rival Aphrodite’s beauty. Sherlock cleared his throat. “Sorry, what did you ask me?”
“Uh…just…clue? How’s it going?” She repeated.
Sherlock gulped. “...Great. And you?”
“I’m doing okay,” She said softly. Why had her voice gotten so quiet?
Sherlock nodded and looked around the room. His eyes darted frantically over the photos on the wall, then to the array of cat toys around her flat. Right, she had a cat. He could ask about that.
“Your cat?” Sherlock muttered.
“Bjørn? Erm… he’s with Mrs. Hudson right now. She spoils him rotten,” She chuckled. Then Y/N began to fiddle with her hands.
Something Sherlock knew to be a nervous habit. “You alright?” He asked again.
Y/N laughed again. “Are you sure you’re fine Sherlock? That’s the second time you’ve asked me that question.”
“Right, I mean-” His voice faltered as she stepped up to him. Her hand now rested on his forehead. She peered up at him. She was so close that Sherlock could see his face reflected in her eyes. They were gorgeous. He never knew so many colours could appear in a singular shade.
“You’re burning up, and your face it’s all red,” She muttered, finally lowering her hand. “You’ve got to tell Joh–”
“Sherlock, I told you to leave her al–” John began to reprimand his friend before shutting his mouth abruptly. He had thought Sherlock frazzled at a simple children’s game was something, but the sight before him was even better.
Sherlock stood in front of Y/N. Nothing too out of the ordinary. However, what John seemed to notice was the state of shock Sherlock seemed to be in. His mouth hung slightly open and his lips frozen in thought trying to find words to say. His cheeks have flushed a shade of red that John had only seen in cartoons. On top of it all, John could swear there were even hearts forming in Sherlock’s eyes as he gazed at Y/N.
John chuckled slightly and wished he had taken a picture. His laugh and presence seemed to have shaken Sherlock from his trance.
“You look nice,” John complimented Y/N.
She smiled softly and looked down at her dress. It was a brilliant shade of blue. She ran her hands over the material straightening it out. “Thanks,” Y/N muttered.
“John, I think Sherlock’s getting sick. His face is flushed and I think he has a fev–”
“I’m perfectly fine, Y/N,” Sherlock blurted.
John snickered. “Now that you say it, Y/N, Sherlock does look a little feverish.”
“I’m not sick,” Sherlock stated.
“Lovesick,” John coughed. Sherlock sent John a death glare upon hearing the words, but it seemed as if Y/N hadn’t noticed. It took John a moment to notice the confusion on Y/N's face. He quickly looked to Sherlock to see if the man who came charging into her flat was going to do any explaining, but he seemed to be occupied with gazing at Y/N.
“We need your opinion on something,” John said. He strolled up next to Sherlock and nudged his shoulder. This seemed to get Sherlock back in working condition.
“Right. Look at this,” Sherlock instructed. He handed Y/N the paper Hilton had given them moments prior.
The expression of confusion grew on her face. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“That’s for you to decide,” Sherlock explained.
She looked up from the paper and eyed Sherlock carefully. “Right. You know, I really do have to go can’t I just–”
“No!” Sherlock cleared his throat. “No, just…quickly what do you think it is?”
Y/N glanced down at the paper once more. The hesitance was clear in her voice as she said “A child’s picture? Like one a kid draws.”
John cheered in triumph. “Told you.”
Sherlock sneered at John. “Clearly both you and Y/N are lacking in some–”
But Sherlock did not get to finish for Y/N’s phone began to ring. “That’ll be Jim. Go to go.” She took a few steps outside the door before quickly turning on her heel. “Can you close the door behind you?” Her voice was directed more towards John than Sherlock.
John nodded and wished her a good time. Even Sherlock flashed a smile to her as she left, but it was soon replaced with a scowl.
John giggled at the sight. “When are you going to admit that you like her?”
“We have a client waiting, John,” Sherlock said.
“Change the subject all you’d like, but still does not change the fact that you fancy her,” John replied.
Sherlock didn’t even bother to reply to John as he left Y/N’s flat and embarked back up the stairs.
______
“What do think?” Hilton asked John and Sherlock.
The three of them now sat down in the flat: John in his chair, Sherlock on his ‘throne’, and Hilton Cubitt on the sofa next to the empty Cluedo game box. The way they were situated made Hilton feel like he was being interviewed.
“Of what?” Sherlock asked. His eyes came to focus on Hilton.
“The code,” Hilton uttered. “I read on your blog,” his voice grew sheepish, “of a case you recently solved involving a code. I thought you might be able to help me.”
John furrowed his brows. What case could– ”The Blind Banker?”
Hilton nodded. “Excellent storytelling might I add.”
John smiled and thanked Hilton. Sherlock looked between Hilton and John before clearing his throat just loud enough to end the conversation. John and Hilton’s gaze whipped to Sherlock. John’s expression was annoyed while Hilton’s was embarrassed.
“It’s rather curious. At first glance it’s a childish prank, so why do you say that it’s a code?” Sherlock questioned. He sent John a ‘don’t-give-me-that-look-he’s-here-for-a-case-and-not-to-fan-girl-you’ look.
“My wife,” Hilton said.
Suddenly a quizzical expression appeared on Sherlock’s face. “How does your wife let you know that it’s a code? Did she tell you?”
“In a way she did,” Hilton replied. “One evening she saw the drawing and was frightened to death. When I asked her about it, she said that it was nothing, but I could see the terror in her eyes. Not just some childish prank would scare my wife like that. That’s why I came to you hoping you might help me.
Sherlock looked at the paper once more. His pointer finger ran over the images. This was all very strange. Strange was exactly what Sherlock was looking for. One might even say that Sherlock’s middle name was strange. “Alright. Now, I need to know everything in detail.”
Hilton nodded. He was quick to adjust his sitting position into something more comfortable. “Now, I’m not much of a storyteller…Just ask me anything that I don’t make clear.” He cleared his throat and fumbled with the fabric of his trousers. “I’ll start at my marriage four years ago. Now, I’m not rich in any way, but my family, well, there’s no better-known family in Norfolk than the Cubitts. Anyways, I went to America about four years ago.”
“Where?” Sherlock asked. “Details.”
“New York. It was there I met Elsie Patrick. I fell in love and quickly married her. Came back home to Norfolk after that. Many people’d say that it was too fast for such a thing, but you don’t know Elsie. She was upfront about everything. Kept giving me the chance to get out of it if I wanted to. I remember she said, when I proposed to her, that she had relations with the not-so-agreeable sort. A past that she wanted to forget. She asked that I never asked her about her painful past. I agreed. Of course I did! It didn’t matter to me who she was before I met her. All that mattered was if she’d be with me the rest of my life.”
Sherlock sat in his chair, hands under his chin, eyes out of focus, his ears taking in all the information Hilton was providing, and his mind in deep thought. Something John knew not to disrupt.
“What about the code?” John asked.
“Well,” Hilton glanced down the floor. His voice changed from one of light and love to one of seriousness. “About a month ago, Elsie received a letter from America.”
“How did you know that it was from America?” Sherlock questioned.
“I saw the postage. Stamp and all. But when she saw it, her face turned white. Like she saw a ghost. Moments later, she read the letter and then tossed it into the fire. I didn’t ask her about it, but she was scared of Mr. Holmes. I knew she’d come and talk to me when she was ready.” Hilton turned to John, “But about the code. About a week later from the letter, must have been Tuesday last week–I found the figures drawn on a window sill. I thought it must have been our daughter.”
“Daughter?” John wondered.
The seriousness faded from Hilton’s face at the mention of his daughter. “Yes, she’s three and a half. Loves to draw!” Then he reached into his pockets and pulled out his wallet. Inside was an image of a young girl and woman, who John assumed was his wife. Hilton made quick work of displaying the photo for John and Sherlock to see. “One of the greatest things that happened to me, my girl. But if you give her a crayon, she’d decorate the whole house!”
Once again, Sherlock cleared his throat. Hilton immediately put away the photo he cherished. “Right,” Hilton continued, “well I washed the drawings away. Later that night, I mentioned them to Elsie who had the same look on her face when she opened the letter. She asked me to show her the drawings if I found any more before washing them away. And I didn’t find another until a few days ago. She saw the drawings and collapsed with fear. I knew something was wrong so I came to you. The police wouldn’t believe me. Mr. Holmes. I’m not rich, but I would do anything to protect my wife and daughter.”
“Don’t you think you should ask your wife to tell you?” John asked. It was a reasonable question and John got the sense that all would be well if Hilton only had the courage to ask.
Hilton shakes his head. “A promise is a promise. I won’t force her to tell me anything she doesn’t want me to.” He glanced down at the golden band on his ring finger and softly smiled.
“I’ll help you,” Sherlock announced.
A wave of relief washed over Hilton. “Thank you, Mr. Hol–”
“Have you heard of any strangers being seen in your neighbourhood?” Sherlock asked.
“No,” Hilton replied.
“Norfolk. A quiet place right? A new face would be news,” Sherlock questioned.
John peered at his friend. How would Sherlock know about the environment place in Ireland, but not be able to win a single round of Cluedo?
“In my neighbourhood, yes, but we have several farmers who take in lodgers. Along with the occasional tourist.”
Sherlock nodded his head slowly, his mind taking note of the information Hilton had provided him. “These drawings obviously have meaning, something I may be able to solve, so long as they aren’t just arbitrary drawings. However, this image is not enough. Do you have any more images of the code?”
“No, but I’ll be returning home soon. Tomorrow’s my flight back,” Hilton explained.
John’s eyes widened at the statement. Hilton really would do anything for his family if he’d just fly to London just to see Sherlock.
“I suggest you keep an eye out for such drawings and document them,” Sherlock suggested. “If and when you do find them send them to me as soon as possible. That is all I can do until I have more of the code to study.”
“Right,” Hilton said. His face flashed with an expression of disappointment. “Well, here’s my business card. It’s got my email and number if you need to contact me.”
John looked at the white business card Hilton had stuck out for either Sherlock or him to take. A business card was a smart idea. He made a mental note to possibly ask Y/N to make some for Sherlock. It would really make these cases much more efficient.
After noting that neither man in front of him was going to take the card from his hands, Hilton placed it on the coffee table in front of him. “Well, there…um,” He looked to John.
“Right! You’ll be needing our number and email as well…?” John replied.
Hilton nodded. “That would be great. It’s not the easiest to fly to London on a whim.”
“You flew on a whim?” Sherlock asked.
“Of course not, had a purpose…thank you again. I’ll be sure to send you any more of that code I find,” Hilton explained. Then he politely excused himself from 221B heading back to his hotel to prepare for his journey home.
The moment Hilton Cubitt had left the flat, Sherlock did not waste a moment in asking John for his phone.
“Why can’t you use your phone?”
“I need to call someone about the case,” Sherlock replied as if that was an adequate answer.
“I’m aware Sherlock but can’t you use your phone?”
“No, they won’t answer if it’s me,” Sherlock muttered. He stuck out his hand for John to place his phone into.
John peered at his friend. “Who wouldn’t answer if it was you?” John asked.
“None of your concern,” Sherlock clarified. “Phone.”
“Cause the only people I can think of are Mycroft, Greg, and…No, Sherlock,” John stated.
“It’s important. Hilton mentioned his wife is from America, who better to ask about the case than her,” Sherlock argued.
“Just because she is American does not mean she’s going to know everyone who’s ever set foot in the country let alone known about the case,” John refuted.
Sherlock huffed. “John. Phone.”
“No. She is on a date, Sherlock! She followed your rules. You gave her the night off. You must respect that,” John scolded Sherlock. “Just like Cluedo, you can’t change the rules of the game just because you aren’t winning. Which by the way,” John stomped over the tiny envelope that held the answer to the game. “You lost once again. It was Miss Scarlet with the dagger in the Billard room.”
In a fury, he tossed the cards at Sherlock’s face and stormed off to his room. The loud slamming of John’s door echoed throughout 221B. Sherlock picked up the cards from the floor and clutched them in his hand. He clenched his teeth together and crinkled the cards within his hand.
It was a stupid game. A stupid game Y/N had thought he might have fun playing. A stupid game that followed no logic. A stupid game that Sherlock lost over and over again. What was he doing wrong? Wasn’t wanting the prize–wasn’t wanting to win enough? Nothing was making sense anymore. Clues weren’t leading to anything. Y/N couldn’t see she was making it all worse. She plagued his thoughts. Thoughts that were never meant for anything other than logic. Y/N wasn’t logical. John had pointed that out to him long ago. Nothing about the way she smiled or how she laughed at a comment he uttered to Anderson made sense. So why did her gentle hand on his forehead or how she asked if he was well, feel so right? The thought of her in that dress singing to herself was all he ever needed. It wasn’t logical how Sherlock would throw away any thought of sanity just to be hers. This wasn’t Sherlock. Sherlock was logical and followed the rules of intelligence. Sherlock wasn’t swayed by emotion. Sherlock didn’t lose.
He retrieved the paper depicting the code. This here was logical. A code. A worried husband. A case. The cases were logical. Sherlock followed logic. What hadn’t occurred to him was how late he sat in his chair staring at the drawings. His eyes were strained from observing the stick figures for the hundredth time. He was committing them to memory: The width of the circles that were used as heads, the direction each figure was facing, the poses of each stick figure, and the material they were drawn with. The sun had long since set below the horizon and Baker Street had gone quiet. Sherlock ignored how heavy his body felt. His eyelids were begging to close. But when they did, he thought of her and she wasn’t logical. Instead, he kept them open and looked at the drawings once more.
_________
Y/N’s feet were aching when she finally reached the comforting black door of 221B Baker Street. She lovingly brought a hand to the raised number 221B and remember when she saw them for the first time. It was the first time she walked into her home. Y/N wasn’t afraid to admit that her home was Baker Street and that she shared her home with those she loved most. John and his sweet demeanour, Mrs. Hudson and her soap operas, Sherlock and his gross experiments, and Bjørn and his demon-like screech. This was home.
She made quick work of finding her keys, opening the door, and stepping into the warmth and comfort of 221B Baker Street. The entryway was dimly lit and the light, Y/N observed, came from Sherlock’s flat. His door was wide open allowing the light from the room to seep out into the hallway. That only meant one thing. Sherlock was awake.
Y/N took in a tired breath and dismayed her want to crawl into her bed with Bjørn tucked under her arm and fall asleep. She trudged up the stairs as quietly as she could before appearing in Sherlock’s doorway.
He sat peacefully. His sapphire blue eyes glowed in the dark as he stared out the window. His legs were crossed comfortably in his seat and in his hand he clutched a paper tightly.
“What are you doing up so late?” Y/N asked.
She watched as Sherlock froze the moment he heard her words. He turned away from the window and gazed at her.
“Could ask you the same thing. How was your date?” He replied.
“You won’t get off that easy,” Y/N chuckled. “You need to sleep, Sherlock.”
“I will…how was the date?” He asked again.
Y/N sighed softly before hanging up her coat and removing her heels. She forgot why she even wore them in the first place. They always made her feet hurt for days afterwards. She was soon to find a seat on the sofa.
“It was nice. It was some charity event. Had a nice dinner and danced a little bit. Nothing too crazy.” She began to fiddle with the hem of her dress. It was satin. The soft material was smooth against her fingers. Then she laid back on the sofa, her head bumped into the box for Cluedo. She muttered a subtle “ow,” before taking notice of the room.
“You’ve redecorated.” She noted. Her eyes caught sight of the red thread, the rope on the coffee table, and the game cards taped to the walls. “Must have been a fun game by the looks of it.”
“You’d have to ask John. I lost every round.” Sherlock confessed.
Y/N gasped. “Sherlock Holmes lost every round of Cluedo? Is it solving mysteries and murders your forte?” She said it with such humour, Sherlock let it slide.
Sherlock playfully rolled his eyes, “The game doesn’t follow logic, so of course John won.”
Then she giggled. Just the sound of her laugh alone drew Sherlock out of his sorrow. He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his mouth. He had always heard of laughing being contagious but only really believed it when he met her.
It took only a moment for them to settle down. The fuel to their laughter was long gone. Y/N tucked her feet in close to her body as goosebumps appeared on her arms. The tiny bumps were the body's way of keeping heat, at least that’s what Sherlock told her as he offered her a blanket. One she gladly took.
“He asked me to move in with him,” Y/N whispered. She wasn’t sure why she was telling Sherlock this. Maybe it was because Sherlock felt most like home. She didn’t want to leave her home.
Sherlock tensed at her words. “...What did you say?”
Y/N rubbed the back of her neck. “Jim, he asked me to move in with him. Said I’d think about it, but I’m leaning towards no. After all, what would you and John do without me?”
“You don’t–” Sherlock sighed. “You can move in with him if you want.” Immediately he wanted to hurl. What was he saying? Seeing her leave? He shook his head. No, this was logical. Her moving is logical. Who was kidding, it was the worst thing possible. Who would he have to bother when he was bored? Who would care about him when he no longer cared? He’d have John, but he wasn’t Y/N.
Y/N shook her head. “Not just…I don’t want to move just because of you and John. Baker Street is my home. I–I could never leave,” Y/N confessed. “Plus, I think Jim asked me because he was worried. He found John’s blog and read about the Blind Banker incident. Doesn’t want me to get hurt chasing after you, but it’s my job and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”
She wasn’t going to leave. This eased Sherlock’s mind and beating heart, but then he felt guilty. Her boyfriend was right, she was hurt because of the case. “He’s right, you know. It’s dangerous.”
“I know what I signed up for Sherlock,” Y/N hissed. “Sorry, just…it’s too perfect.”
Sherlock frowned. “What’s too perfect?”
Y/N realized her mistake. Her face flushed and her voice grew quiet. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you,” Sherlock stated. He leaned forward in his chair and placed a hand over hers.
Y/N smiled softly at the gesture. “He’s too perfect. Our relationship. Everything,” Y/N groaned. She didn’t notice how Sherlock winced.
“Jim, he’s smart, kind, handsome, and ever the gentleman. He knows exactly what I want. Never fails to take me on an amazing date, likes my favourite foods, and has read the same books I have. He’s perfect. Exactly what I want. Which sounds crazy, but he–it doesn’t feel real. By now I’d think I’d actually know him. He hasn’t really told me what does for work…”
“What does he do?” Sherlock asked.
“He consults business, but that’s all he’s told me. I don’t know his favourite colour, where he’s from, or anything. It’s all about me, but he’s…he’s perfect,” Y/N sighed. “It doesn’t make sense. Nobody’s perfect…I don’t know what to do, Sherlock,” She confessed. “You don’t just break up with somebody because they’re perfect. It doesn’t help that he wants to take me away. On a trip or something…I don’t know. Just…nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing is what it seems. I fear you’ve corrupted me, Sherlock.”
He chuckled. “I’ve corrupted you?”
“Yeah. You’ve made me think. To observe, to not trust anything at first glance. Now nothing is ever what it seems,” Y/N admitted with a smile on her face.
Sherlock smiled back. “And that’s good?”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah. You’re great–It’s great.”
“I’m glad,” said Sherlock.
“So am I. It just makes everything that much more complicated.”
“Exactly,” Sherlock replied.
Y/N hummed in response. She took Sherlock’s hands within her own and Sherlock could swear his heart did a backflip off a cliff. She peered at his hands carefully. Her thumbs lovingly ran over his knuckles. Sherlock felt as if his skin was on fire. It burned to have her hold his hands. The hands were delicate things used for almost everything Sherlock did. To burn them was to render him useless and that’s what she did. Sherlock was rendered useless in the best way possible.
“You should really get some sleep, Sherlock.”
“Ah, but I have a case that needs working on. A code to solve.”
“Sherlock,” Y/N warned.
“I’ll tell you all about it. A client, Hilton Cubitt walked in while John and I were playing Cluedo and —”
“Sherlock,” Y/N interrupted. “You can tell me all about it tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow,” Sherlock stated. He tilted his head towards the clock behind him.
“You know what I mean. We both need sleep. You more than anyone,” Y/N said. Sherlock opened his mouth to refute her statement when she cut him off. “Even the great Sherlock Holmes needs to sleep. If not for yourself, then for me.”
Sherlock couldn’t find it in him to refuse her. He wouldn’t be able to refuse her anything. He nodded and watched as she removed her hands from his.
In her tiredness, Y/N drew away from Sherlock. She stood up from her seat, picked up her shoes and coat, and went downstairs to her flat where she crawled downstairs into her bed and fell asleep. At least that’s what she told herself she would do all. Just then she leaned in close. She blamed it on the fog her mind was in. Nothing was ever what it seemed to be anymore. Her lips brushed against Sherlock’s forehead, her hands resting in his hair as she brushed it away from his face.
“Goodnight, Sherlock,” she whispered against his skin. Just like she said she would, she left Sherlock in his chair. Her coat in shoes was in her arms as she descended the stairs.
Now, if things were logical, Sherlock wouldn’t have let her pull away. He would grasp her wrists and hold her close. He would have whispered to her that she missed. Then he would have placed his lips on hers. He would have kissed her if things were logical. But nothing was anymore. Not when Y/N was with him.
_________
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Character arcs and themes in The Seven
I spend a lot of time in my other main fandom writing meta about dramatic structure and character development, because I’m a playwright and a writer and I can’t turn that part of my brain off even when I’m in love with a show. I haven’t seen a whole lot of meta do that for Dimension 20 yet. I think people might be a little hesitant to write meta for D20 because Actual Plays are based on improv and don’t have a single author, so it feels like a medium we can’t dig into in the same way. But I don’t think that’s true! Once the campaigns are shot and uploaded, they’re complete texts that I think deserve the same kind of loving scrutiny that we offer our other favorite TV shows. So let’s spend a minute talking about character and story structure in Dimension 20, and why I love The Seven so much.
It’s a kind of accepted maxim that DnD shouldn’t have a main character, and I think that’s very true for home games, where the point is that each friend should be having an equal amount of fun. But I think actual plays are a little different. The fact that they are observed innately changes them (like the way that particles do when they are observed by scientists) and I think the D20 structure, where campaigns are limited to a run time akin to a long TV show, does that even more. A protagonist is traditionally the character who answers the dramatic question of a piece, which is the driving question that moves the narrative and themes of a story forward. I think a lot of D20 seasons end up having a protagonist, or character that is more intricately linked to the central questions and themes of the campaign than the others. Some DnD purists may not like that, but for me as a story nerd? It’s what makes the whole thing work.
I think The Seven is a perfect example of this. Each one of the six PCs is so well developed. The first episode of this campaign is one of the most effective of any season I think, giving us such a great grounding in each character’s home life, and the personal conflicts that arise from it. It kicks off Antiope’s complicated relationship with leadership, Katja’s desire to be recognized by her father, Penny’s struggle with perfectionism, Ostentatia’s complex feelings around providing for her family and keeping up with the Joneses, and the way that Danielle’s go-with-the-flow attitude has made her less likely to fight for belonging. And Sam? Sam is struggling with feelings of abandonment as she deals with a transphobic birth mother, a best friend who kidnapped her and then died, and an adopted mom who is moving away after a divorce. Sam is being overwhelmed by change in her personal life even while her friendship group threatens to break apart. And change, and how we choose to accept it or fight it, is absolutely at the core theme of The Seven. To be fair, every other character is also struggling to figure out how she feels about the change going on in the party, and that’s a core part of each girl’s journey. But most of them are balancing a personal question alongside the question of the fate of the group (for instance, Antiope has to decide if she will obey or defy her parents, and whether or not she will take the internship and remain with the party. They’re related, but they’re also distinct questions). Sam is the only character whose personal question hooks directly into the central themes of the campaign, and that sets her up perfectly to become the protagonist of the season.
I think the dramatic question of The Seven is not, as I first thought, Is change good? But actually How do we accept change with grace? And Sam is the character who figures out how to answer this question. Persephone’s performance as Sam is out-of-this-world good. She instinctively moves towards conflict and scenes that add depth to the narrative, and her portrayal of Sam’s pettiness as a defense mechanism is alternatively hilarious and heartbreaking. Her decision to step away from the others and speak to Talura creates a thematic parallel between her and the Eidolon and creates a connection that drives the back half of the season.
From the moment the lore became clear, I was obsessed with Brennan’s decision to parallel The Seven Maidens with seven goddesses. The Eidolons went through a similar change that the Maidens are currently going through; in order to seek a better future, they dispersed and assumed a new form. The one who cannot accept this change is the one intricately linked with change as a concept; for Talura who represents endings and death to be the one still holding on to her sisters is profound and heartbreaking. The fact that she forms a connection with Sam feels so meaningful. Sam is probably the Maiden most acquainted with change; she’s the only one of the girls who has gone through a gender transition, and the only one who has been adopted and effectively changed who her parents are. But both Sam and Talura are holding on to stability and resisting change with all their might.
I think it’s a credit to the incredible cast that even with Sam in a slightly more central role, none of the other PCs feels undeveloped. I don’t think there’s a weak link at this table, and each player had a moment where they made me laugh and cry. I love the way that Aabria acts as a leader at the table for other players and also a leader in-story as Antiope. I’m obsessed with the way that Rekha can switch seamlessly between horse girl humor and a heartwarming description of Katja’s inner child. Becca’s quick improv makes Penny so charming (and I have genuinely never laughed harder than the Laertes scene). Every spell that Erika casts as Danielle is beautiful and magical and I loved seeing her begin to assert her own desires. And Izzy is just hilarious as Ostentatia and does so much to unite the group into a cohesive party (I fucking love you!).
The other reason that each character feels complete and whole is that they each have an opportunity to answer the questions that are set up in the first episode. The penultimate episode, when each Maiden has the chance to confront time and her own death, lets each player create a moment when their character stares down her demons and learns an important lesson. This is really a classic Brennan move, and it’s one of my favorite tricks that he does to help create a cohesive storyline that fits into the confines of the season episode number. I jokingly described it to @bluedalahorse as that inevitable point in the campaign where Brennan “looks straight into a player’s eyes and calmly asks them if their character will achieve self-actualization”. (Also Lou totally calls Brennan out on this in Fantasy High season 2 when Brennan casually asks “so what’s your character’s greatest fear?” when they head into the Forest of the Nightmare King. “That is the most Brennan thing I’ve ever heard!” Lmao yes it is!) Those moments are always my favorite in any season, because I can feel the oxygen get sucked out of the room as the story magic starts happening. The fact that it’s improv, and that the player may not rise to the implicit question Brennan is asking, is part of the suspense. But in The Seven I think each player knocks it out of the park, and I can’t watch that episode without fully weeping.
Even the way the final battle goes down reinforces the theme of learning how to accept change. By a happy accident of dice and initiative order (and I, think, a slight thumb on the scales on Brennan’s part) the battle allows Sam to complete her arc and answer the dramatic question of the show. Sam uses her reaction to save Zelda from Telura’s attack, so she’s powerless when Telura launches a power word kill spell against her. After she goes down, Penny is next in initiative, and although she can’t do anything to revive Sam, is able to remind Telura that The Seven are her sisters, not unlike Telura’s own. Ostentatia is next in initiative, but Brennan has Izzy hold her turn because (I’m assuming) he wants to let Sam/Persephone hit a story beat before Ostentatia revivifies her. Instead he skips to Danielle, who has a connection to Anima, the eidolon of life, who Telura is currently partially presenting as. Danielle and Anima are able to encourage Telura to let go, and to let Sam live, before Brennan switches to a short role play moment between Sam and Telura. It makes total sense that Sam would be able to talk directly to Telura in this state between life and death since Telura is the goddess of death. Sam is able to comfort Telura in this moment and acknowledge that although she’s scared of change, she’s learned that it represents opportunity as much as it represents an ending. “Sometimes change happens,” she reassures Talura, “but it doesn’t mean it will be worse or that you can’t find joy in what happens. And if you never try you’ll never know what can be.” In that moment Sam has completed her character arc; she’s a totally different person from the girl who was desperate to keep her friends exactly as they were at the beginning of the campaign. Her new conviction convinces Talura that it is ok to let go, and to become scattered through the world as the concept of death like her sisters have already done. Ostentatia revives Sam, and Talura stops attacking. “We can’t promise the future will never hurt,” the other eidolons tell Talura, “but we can promise that if we’re together it will be worth it.” And that’s the real lesson of The Seven: people will grow and change, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hold each new version of our loved ones in our hearts. We can keep our friends close while still giving each other the grace to become the people we were meant to be.
Everyone has an absolutely incredible moment in the final battle (Antiope killing Charity! Katja tripping the earth eidolon!) but the way that Sam completes her character arc is especially special to me. As a former teen girl and someone who values her friendships above everything, this lesson that we can love our friends through change is close to my heart. It’s one I keep learning over and over, and I love the way it was explored in The Seven.
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Doug Eiffel and/or Milligan for the Headcanon Ask game <3
Thanks Sophie! To thank you for all your wonderful comments on my fics, I will do both:
First: Doug Eiffel
Headcanon A: realistic
Doing headcanons for Doug is tricky because I haven’t finished the podcast so what’s realistic or not remains to be seen. But I do think it’s realistic to say that if Doug made it back to Ann, and she was open to having a relationship with him as an adult and giving him a second chance, he’d be an amazing dad. He’s be so grateful to be back on earth, wouldn’t relapse, and would be the best dad/grandpa ever.
Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious
I don’t know how Wolf359 ends. Is it too much to hope for Doug getting to yell some catchy pop culture reference catch phrase at Cutter as he’s dragged into the back of a cop car? Like “my how the tables have turned” or something like that, you know since Cutter got him out of prison and now Doug is testifying to put him in prison.
Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends
Despite being the one character in Wolf359 who seems to consistently be able, even under pressure, to stick to his morals and try his best to avoid killing, Doug is never able to view himself as a good person or a person whose life is worth saving. The whole “no one who matters ends up here” is something Doug would never apply to Minkowski or Hera, but he still applies it to himself because of what he did to Ann.
Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.
When Doug makes it back to earth, Hera gets to live with him and be part of his family. I don’t care if you ship them or not, or if it’s a ship or not. I don’t care if you want Hera to be the house, still part of the ship, put in a human-like body, I don’t care. She is family, and she lives with Doug and Ann now.
Second: Milligan
This vary depending on book or show version of the character so I’ll keep it vague.
Headcanon A: realistic
Milligan would do his best to help the helpers and everyone else who had their memories erased find their long lost loved ones. After being separated from Kate, he wouldn’t want anyone to live with that level of pain. In the show, he’s also do it out of some degree of guilt, since he vaguely remembers working for Curtain and is unsure if he was involved in the brain sweeping or not.
Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious
I have a REALLY good one for this. But I don’t want to spoil my own stuff. So I won’t. In my defense, Milligan would 100% do this and the only reason it wouldn’t be in the show is because they just don’t have enough run time for the plot line.
Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends
Milligan having to grieve his wife again. He lost her three years before he lost Kate to some sort of illness (we can only speculate). He loses her, loses the memory of her, and then he has to find all her old stuff, see traces of her in Kate, and lose her all over again. Whether you head canon that he was able to move on and have a new relationship or not, either way, he’d have to go through this pain and it would be absolutely awful.
Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.
Show Milligan being friends with Curtain. I might add in my SOS authors note more detail about how realistic I think SOS actually is based on the show, and I do believe based on what they gave us that a storyline involving a backstory Garrison, Curtain, Milligan, and SQ’s birth parents working together was something that they might have planned for future seasons. But I think it’s slightly more likely they were just coworkers and that Milligan got used and stabbed in the back by Garrison and Curtain (who later stabbed each other in the back) rather than the (in my opinion) much better angst parade where they all actually cared about each other once. But a show’s run time can only take us to flashback land so many times, especially when you can’t get actors back and your show is on the verge of cancellation. So I get it.
#I hope you like these Sophie!#milligan wetherall#doug eiffel#bods wolf359 reactions#wolf 359#Bods answers#tmbs#the mysterious benedict society#mysterious benedict society
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My Favorite Fics of 2022
I relied on fics to help me get through a really difficult year. I read and loved so many stories, but these are the ones that I absolutely cherished.
Thank you to every author in this fandom for writing and sharing your work. And thank you to everyone who recommends fics and connects readers with these great stories. I don't know where I'd be without you all. I hope this post helps someone find a fic you haven't given a chance, yet!
Open Up Your Honey Pot by daffodilsforlou @polaroidlouis
E | 5k | ABO
This is one of the hottest fics I read this year. Frat boy alpha Louis absolutely worships his intersex omega boyfriend Harry. Gentle dom Harry teasing service top Louis is absolutely gold and so well written. There’s just so much love (and slick). I have read and re-read this, but it doesn’t get old.
The School of Extraordinary Lovers by @stylinsoncity
M | 191k | Vampire/Witch
I absolutely loved sinking into the world of this story with magical creatures, curses, and beautiful music. (Definitely check out the playlist.) Louis and Harry are brought back together after years apart, and their past slowly starts to make sense to the readers as well as both of them. This author blew me away with how well they communicated longing, jealousy, and pining, and how satisfying the story really was. Be warned, there is some violence.
Our Lives, Non-Fiction by @indiaalphawhiskey
E | 113k | Enemies to lovers
This fic absolutely blew me away with palpable sexual tension between authors Marcel and Louis, who got off on the wrong foot. When Marcel realizes he needs to experience sex to be able to write it better and Louis agrees to help…it only gets better. The commentary throughout about romance and fanfiction was so well-done and added such richness. With amazing writing, storyline, and smut, it’s no wonder this is a modern classic in the fandom.
Beautiful War by @itsmotivatingcara
M | 103k | Clairvoyant
This is a thriller romance, with a detailed mystery, high stakes, and amazing burning tension between Larry. Clairvoyant Louis survived the unthinkable when he escaped a serial killer, but now the signature murders are continuing. FBI agent Harry is on the case and suspicious of Louis and his gift. This story moves you from fear to lust with ease, and I hope it earns its spot as another fandom classic. Warning for lots of violence and blood in this one.
come my love be one with the sea by CuckooTrooke @larrydoinglaundry
M | 6k | Mermaid/Pirate
Get ready to fall in love with this charming and absolutely hilarious fic. Mermaid Harry saves a pirate ship captain named Louis. Cue misunderstandings, banter, sass, and really soft, lovely, feelings. This fic makes me feel so good every time I read it.
Darling Can't You See by @tommokat
M | 12k | Royalty
Prince Harry has a reputation that precedes him, but when Louis is hired to be the royal cat caretaker, he learns that reputation may be a little bit misleading. This is fantastically funny and sweet, with the bonus of a love story between Louis and the many many cats. It also has some of the hottest dirty talk and smut I've read in a long while. A real pleasure to read.
The Warmth of Your Body by zanni_scaramouche @zanniscaramouche
M | 46k | ABO wolves
I could not put this addictive fic down. Omega Harry is in line to become the next pack Luna, promised to Niall, when unexpected violence and challenges arrive. A mysterious alpha, Louis, shows up just in time to save Harry’s life. Harry navigates his duties and expectations while staying true to himself. This fic does end on a cliff hanger. I am still hoping for part two, but I highly recommend reading the part that is written. P.S. I just learned that part two is written and coming soon!!
your head in your hands as you color me blue by docklands @hershelsue
G | 2k | Historical
“Gorgeous historical gender thing” was my bookmark note. This is a short but sweet story about trans Harry’s unique relationship with the painter in the window across from his Paris apartment. I encourage you to read the second part, too.
Lies & Liability by 4ureyesonly28 @evilovesyou
M | 34k | Regency + ABO
Omega Harry is tired of suitors, and alpha Louis doesn’t care to court omegas, so they form a mutually convenient fake relationship in this historical fic packed with great tropes. There is enemies to friends to lovers. There is protective Louis. There is dueling, danger, and excitement. It was an amazingly fun romp that I highly recommend, even if regency romance isn’t normally your thing.
Full Moon Dreaming by jarcaranda_bloom @jacaranda-bloom
E | 43k | Soulmates
In this magical realism fic, full moon dreams reveal your soulmate, but Louis has given up hope of getting his. When Harry moves in next door to Louis in a coastal town, they don’t get off to a great start. There’s a great cast of 1D characters, a fantastic enemies to lovers arc, and some very steamy smut. The allusions to the movie Moonstruck are the icing on the cake.
Remember Me Before You by @kingsofeverything
E | 293k | Friends to lovers
I was absolutely beside myself waiting for each new installment of this fic. This is a New Girl AU with the 1D guys. Harry is Jess, and Louis is Nick. Their friends to lovers, push and pull relationship was iconic in the show, but this story fleshes it out and takes it to a new level. You can also enjoy the hilarious group comedy element you know and love from the sitcom.
In Motion by orphan_account
E | 6k | PWP
Smut. Specifically Louis edges Harry for a long time in creative ways. Absolutely fabulous.
Introduction to Dynamics by @juliusschmidt
E | 29k | Non-traditional ABO
Confident omega Louis becomes friends with sheltered beta Harry in college. Except, there’s a little more there, and maybe Harry isn’t a beta after all? This is funny, sweet, and sexy with lots of “sex education” talks and oblivious idiots in love.
Last time I did an annual favorites list, I included one of my own fics, so...
Grow as We Go by me @larryatendoftheday
T | 7k | Breakup/Makeup
Six years into their relationship, Harry and Louis hit a breaking point. Louis is tired of shoving the ring box into the back of his underwear drawer, so he throws out an ultimatum. Or a fic about growing up and choosing each other.
#mine#fic rec#larry fanfiction#what i want is fics that are funny sweet and sexy and maybe also angsty#enemies to lovers is a plus clearly haha
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