#This is apparently serious but I am howling.
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shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part two
summary : jealous but confused azriel, yearning shadows and sexy lucien and sexy reader ;)
🧚♀️
a/n: 💗 WOW. SO MUCH SUPPORT ON THE FIRST PART BROOO GUYS I JUST OFCOURSE HAD TO WRITE PART TWO and def will have part 3 i guess? ngl i am an angsty writer so im not good at writing happy endings HAHA rip for u all.
this is so addictive ive already written 3 stories in a span of like three days HAHAH 💗
also most azriel stories i read are never from his perspective so im keeping it from his perspective to change things up! he is def a bit out of character because i havent read acotar for a while rip but enjoy! thanks for the support and let me know your thoughts !! also this isnt proof read cuz ya girls lazy >.<
read [ part one ] !!
---💗---
"What are you two doing?"
Lucien and you both looked up, shocked (but not really) , to find Azriel standing in the middle of the dance floor, clad in his black silk shirt and pants, with swirls of tattoos peeking through, his collarbone on full display. Fae moved gracefully around him, dancing and making out, carefully avoiding the famed shadow singer.
He stands in front of you two, just as you two had begun your pathetic attempts to drunkedly dance. Your short dress had ridden up to the top of your thighs, pressed against Lucien's pants, and Azriel knew it was entirely inappropriate. He observed as you raised your eyebrows and looked down at him.
He couldn't fathom how you two had crossed the line from friends, but he knew it was wrong. Over the eons, he had seen you with many men, but they had always been strangers to him and the Inner Circle. They had never been serious.
Were you and Lucien serious? The club fell silent to him, as he awaited your answer.
His shadows swirled around his feet, urging him to intervene. Some even attempted to caress your legs, but Azriel swiftly reeled them in, refusing to acknowledge how soft and sweet-smelling they might be. He couldn't bear to know how apparently tempting they were.
Azriel clenched his jaw as you gazed back at him with your kohl-lined eyes, their newfound seductive power nearly breaking his stoic demeanor.
He bit the inside of his cheek to quell the sudden effect your look had on him, not wanting to indulge in such thoughts; they could only lead to trouble.
"Uhhh... Dancing?" you drawled back finally, rolling your eyes in a way that he would have only have liked to see in bed with you, behind you, with his hands wrapped in your hair as he-
He blinked, the deafening thumping of the music returning to his consciousness, as the rush from his panicking shadows ebbed away, calming his racing heart.
What was he doing? Why did he even come here? A wave of guilt washed over him as he tore his gaze away from your captivating eyes, only to hear you laugh and giggle as Lucien whispered something in your ear, drawing you closer. A giggle Azriel had never noticed was so adorable and sexy at the same time.
Azriel shook his head, trying to make sense of the overwhelming emotions within him. It didn't make any sense. You were like a little sister to him, an integral part of his family.
Stupidly, he realized that he didn't know why his shadows urged him towards you, nor did he understand the sudden waves of jealousy coursing through him.
"AZ! SO NICE OF YOU TO FINALLY JOIN!" a voice screeched, breaking the tension that had enveloped him and the couple in front of him.
They weren't a couple, but they looked like one, and he couldn't stand it. He didn't know why he was acting this way, but he knew one thing for sure: he didn't like it.
He didn't like how Lucien's slender fingers gripped your waist with such familiarity and intent.
The voice that had called out before now manifested next to him as Cassian stumbled over, dragging Nesta along. Their interlocked hands taunted him once more, but Azriel forced himself to look up at Cassian.
"BROTHER!! LET'S DANCE!!" Cassian howled, reaching them and clumsily starting to move their bodies to the rhythm, grabbing Azriel's shoulders to mimic their motions. Azriel stumbled back, desperate to escape the situation, but Cassian persisted.
"Leave me alone, Cassian," he mumbled, brushing his brother's hands away with his gloved ones.
"Why don't you ever dance with us?" Cassian whined, oblivious to Azriel's attempts to withdraw.
Azriel burned with annoyance, returning his attention to you and Lucien. But then, a tender voice spoke out behind him, and he knew it was Feyre even before turning around to see Rhys drunkenly laughing with Cassian as the other couple joined.
“Az, what are you doing, staring holes into Lucien and Y/N,"
"I--" Azriel faltered, trying to make sense of his emotions and jumbled thoughts. "It's just wrong."
He blinked, wondering why he had even gotten up in the first place.
"They're just drunkenly dancing; Elain is fine with it. You don't have to defend her honor here, Az," Feyre assured him, patting him on the back before returning to her mate.
Azriel stood still, smoothing out his pants and running a hand through his tousled hair. The club's hazy atmosphere seemed to envelop him, and he realized that the fae wine he had consumed tonight had hit him hard. Perhaps he had gone too far this time.
"Yes, yes, of course. I just thought Lucien should respect Elain..." he answered hastily, though he knew Feyre had already left. Shadows informed him that Rhys and Feyre had retreated to their more secluded spot again, and Azriel felt a pang of envy.
A couple of fae rammed into him, slightly spilling their drink and apologising in a haste as they realised who they had just knocked into. He glowered down at them and shook his head, stalking back silently back to the booth.
He walked back to the booth where Elain was still seated, nursing a pink drink.
"What was that all about, Az?" she asked innocently, though her doe eyes betrayed her knowing nature.
"It was nothing."
"You were clearly distraught, Az."
"My shadows sensed something was wrong, that's all, Elain."
"Lucien and Y/N?" Elain asked gently, her hand reaching for his gloved hands.
Azriel looked down at her delicate skin brushing against his black leather glove and he felt a sudden overwhelming contrast between the two. He removed his hand from hers, realizing how mismatched they were.
Cassian and Nesta complemented each other perfectly, a match made from the Cauldron itself. Feyre and Rhys shared a love and trust so profound, it was interwoven within their powers.
But what did he have with Elain, other than a forced interest in gardening and her white and pink flowers?
"They're just dancing, it's fine," he told her, his voice numb. He couldn't help but look back at you and Lucien, still writhing against each other on the dance floor in ways that supposedly platonic friends shouldn't.
Lucien's hands were still firmly on your waist as you both gyrated, laughing and singing along to the music. You'd blame it all on the alcohol the next day, if asked about your actions. Azriel knew that, just as he'd experienced countless nights where Cassian or Rhys had kissed him during similar inebriated moments.
Beside you two, Nesta and Cassian mirrored your movements, seemingly unfazed by the intimate nature of your dance. The club's flashing colors continued to shift and flash all around Azriel, in strikes of pink, blue and green but all he saw was red, and he did not
Know
Why.
---
read part three here dearies !!
taglist for shadows of destiny : @allyjoe755 @impossibelle @t0uch-starved-h0e @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @marina468 @cassan1306
#acotar#enemies to lovers#angst acotar#azriel x reader#rhysand x reader#cassian x reader#eris vanserra x reader#lucien vanserra x reader#feyre archeron#high lady feyre#feyre cursebreaker#rhysand acotar#rhysand#elain x lucien#elain archeron#elain x azriel#azriel shadowsinger#nesta x cassian#cassian acotar#a court of wings and ruin#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#crying rn#jealousy#jealous!azriel
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Hello! I just discovered your page, so excited to see more Ateez sick fics! Could I request a fic where Seonghwa has a really bad fever? And he gets really dizzy, maybe even fainting. Thank you <3
⌛⭐Passion Young Fever
Sickie: Seonghwa
Caretaker: Hongjoong (+ Yunho)
Seonghwa just wanted to sleep. He didn’t think it was such an unreasonable wish. They have had a couple of strenuous weeks and he really had looked forward to a full night of rest.
Sadly, his members didn’t seem to get the memo.
Seonghwa had taken a shower after dinner, put on his pajamas and about twenty minutes ago he finally had made himself comfortable under his bed covers in the room he shared with Hongjoong. That, for some reason, hadn’t been enough of a neon sign apparently.
Already Wooyoung had wandered in, looking for his favorite pajamas of all things. Yes, they were in the wash. No, Seonghwa couldn’t have done that earlier. The suggestion to do his own laundry also wasn’t appreciated. Spoiled.
Just as he had convinced Wooyoung that his other sleep clothes were just as nice and comfy as the missing pair, Yunho came looking for somebody to play a game with him. No, Seonghwa did not want to play LoL or whatever the younger one wanted. No, not even animal crossing. Pouting, Yunho had left. Seonghwa would make it up to him some other time.
Right now: Sleep.
Seonghwa barely resisted the urge to scream when Hongjoong came into the room, loudly talking on his phone.
“Oh, you’re here”, Hongjoong said. Why did he sound so surprised? It was their shared room. Seonghwa was here more often than Hongjoong himself was.
“Yes, I am here and I very much would like to sleep”, Seonghwa hissed through clenched teeth.
“Jeez, who rained on your parade?”, Hongjoong groaned, raising his eyebrows, “no, I’m talking to Hwa, eomma, not you. Yes, I know I live with them - that’s exactly why I am talking to Seonghwa when I am on the phone with you - he also lives here. Yes, I’ll tell him ‘hi’. Eomma says ‘hi’, if you haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Can’t you just talk somewhere else?”, Seonghwa asked, ready to throw hands if Hongjoong didn’t get the memo to leave him alone soon.
“Yeah, fine”, Hongjoong muttered and rolled his eyes, “can’t get peace anywhere here.”
Funny.
At least he left.
At last - silence.
Still, Seonghwa couldn’t sleep. Now, buried under the blankets he was too hot. Everything felt stuffy. But when he kicked the blankets off he started to shiver.
Great.
Today was just not his day, huh.
⌛
About an hour later Hongjoong came back into the room and nice as he was, he didn’t even turn on the lights even though Seonghwa knew he would - like always - stub his toe on the ladder up to his bunk in three, two …
“You can turn on the light, you know”, Seonghwa said, resigned.
Hongjoong jumped, cursing in shock, and ended up stubbing his toe on the desk chair instead, howling in pain. Sometimes Seonghwa was amazed by just how clumsy a person could be. It wasn’t like the chair was new.
“Christ, you scared me”, Hongjoong muttered but after a moment of fumbling he did turn on the lights.
“You can call me Seonghwa”, Seonghwa said, a bit amused, “I don’t feel very much like a messiah. Tired, yes, but holy? No.”
“I hate your humor sometimes”, Hongjoong replied, shaking his head. He leaned against the desk to look down at Seonghwa. “I thought you wanted to sleep like three days ago.”
“I can’t sleep”, the eldest whined, “and do you know what is even worse? I have the line “I can’t sleep” from The Rose’s Insomnia stuck in my head. It’s mocking me.”
“Poor you”, the captain chuckled. Then he turned more serious. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know”, Seonghwa mumbled, suddenly close to tears, “I just feel too warm with the blankets but I’m freezing without them. I’m so tired my thoughts barely make any sense and I can’t get com … what are you doing?”
He interrupted himself as Hongjoong laid a hand on his forehead, moving from his position by the desk to sit on the bed by the elder’s hip.
“Did you know that you are running a fever?”, he asked worriedly.
“I … what? No?”, Seonghwa replied, confused. His head pounded in his skull.
“You’re feeling really warm, Hwa”, Hongjoong explained patiently, stroking back the disgusting, sweaty hair, “you’re pale except for the lovely blush on your cheeks that some noonas might kill for and I’ve never seen you this emotional except when you’re sick.”
Seonghwa had to admit it made sense.
“Great, just great”, he muttered.
“Let me get you some fever reducers and some water”, Hongjoong said, standing up, “no use in suffering.”
Seonghwa nodded but before the captain was able to leave his reach, he grasped his wrist. “Can you get me something for my headache, too?” Seonghwa hated taking medication with a passion but if they got him to sleep? Great!
“Of course.” Hongjoong smiled softly and left.
⌛
Five minutes later he returned, carrying a water bottle, medication bottles and a fever thermometer. When he noticed Seonghwa looking at in dismay, he shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. Besides, we should keep track of it in case it gets worse.”
“Fair enough”, Seonghwa muttered and shoved the device under his tongue.
As it beeped they both peered at the reading in vague interest. 38.1°C. Could have been better. Could have been worse.
“Take the pills and try to sleep”, Hongjoong advised, “maybe you’ll feel better by morning.”
⌛
To both of their surprise, Seonghwa did feel better in the morning. Much better. The medication had knocked him right out and he had still managed a solid eight hours of sleep before Hongjoong’s obnoxious alarm went off.
“37.7°C”, Hongjoong read out the numbers, “that’s nearly half a degree down.” The captain had practically shoved the device in Seonghwa’s mouth the moment he had come down the ladder of the bunk.
“That’s not even a fever anymore”, Seonghwa agreed, “and I feel good. Maybe my body just wanted me to rest.”
“Maybe it did. Take it easy for today, okay? We don’t want that back”, Hongjoong said.
“I will. Just don’t tell the dongsaengs and the managers? I don’t want them to worry”, Seonghwa requested, “maybe it was just a one time thing.”
Hesitantly, Hongjoong nodded. “Alright, just tell me if you feel bad again.”
⌛
Seonghwa must have jinxed himself. There was no other explanation why he was fine the whole morning but the later the hour the worse he felt. No, not bad - just worse than normal. No need to inform Hongjoong.
A six hour dance practice was awful on a normal day. Maybe that was it. Dancing was always hard. After just one hour the mirrors in the practice room were so fogged up by humidity that Wooyoung and Jongho - Seonghwa had no idea where the maknaes got the energy or the ideas from - started painting with their fingers on them during a short break. He blinked. Were they really playing TicTacToe? Unbelievable.
Hongjoong had seen them too and stalked over to them to tell them off. Mingi and Yunho were talking with the choreographer and San was sprawled over an unhappy Yeosang. Well, the older looked unhappy - Seonghwa doubted he actually was. He would have shoved San off if he truly was.
Seonghwa himself had sat down by the couch, trying to rehydrate. He was sweating buckets already, his body feeling more like he had just taken a swim than danced for a rather short time considering he was an idol. Ah, nevermind.
He would be fine.
⌛
Hour four and Seonghwa was doubting it.
Every runthrough was getting harder to manage. His muscles burned. His chest heaved from the effort. He could barely catch his breath. His vision was a bit blurry. He felt light and heavy at the same time.
And to his embarrassment he was making the stupidest mistakes. Already he had tripped over Yunho twice. The other seemed to take it in good humor at least.
“You’re worse than Hongjoong-hyung, today”, he teased as he stopped Seonghwa from falling over him the third time.
“Sorry, Yunho-yah”, Seonghwa apologized, staring down at his feet. Interestingly enough the floor seemed to move a bit so he looked up at the others.
“Aish, Yunho, respect your elders”, Hongjoong admonished in good humor, “not everybody can have your dancer’s grace.”
“Yeah, but nobody else nearly gets himself knocked out every game we play, hyung”, Yunho countered.
“That last one was your fault! You literally hit me”, Hongjoong complained, sulking.
“You walked where my fist was, that’s not my fault.” Yunho shrugged.
That’s when Wooyoung decided he wanted to annoy Hongjoong too. “Yunho-hyung”, he said sweetly, “leave Hongjoong-hyung alone. You should pick on somebody your own size.” He barely managed to finish the sentence before he started to wheeze with laughter. The rest of the team - bar Seonghwa and Hongjoong, obviously - joined in.
Seonghwa groaned. He did not want to referee anything today. Besides, couldn’t they just go on with practice?
His savior came at the right time.
“Maybe we should just go on?”, San, of all people, suggested, nodding a bit in the direction of the choreographer who was watching them with amusement in her eyes.
Seonghwa agreed quickly. He really just wanted to be done with practice today, desperate to go home and shower. He really felt disgusting. Also, he could do without the swirling.
⌛
Hour five and Seonghwa was seriously considering asking to just sit out for the rest of practice. Tiredness clung to his body, making it hard to move. His vision wasn’t really doing him any favors of showing him where he was. He was tired and exhausted and he was starting to feel a bit nauseous. His water bottle had been empty for some time but he never had found the strength to get up and refill it at the fountain.
The few precious breaks were spent on the ground just trying to catch his breath.
“How are you feeling?”, Hongjoong asked, coming over to him and holding out a water bottle, “I can see how tired you are and it’s not like you to make these kinds of mistakes.”
“I’m okay. It’s just exhausting. It’s been an exhausting month.” Seonghwa waved him off.
“And yet you are the only one looking like death warmed over. Be honest with me, Seonghwa. Can you continue? If not, tomorrow is another day. No need to dance with a fever.” Hongjoong’s voice was quiet but it held a warning edge.
“I can do it”, Soenghwa said and pushed himself to his feet. He nearly fell as everything started to swirl but he was able to stay upright. Hongjoong looked at him with an unimpressed expression and handed him the water bottle.
“At least drink something.”
⌛
Hour six and they were done. Hallelujah.
Seonghwa had never been so close to crying at seeing the apartment door. He was finally able to relax in the near future.
“First shower, kawibawibo!”, Wooyoung shouted in Seonghwa’s ear and he nearly fell over in shock. He had not noticed the younger creep up beside him.
“Not tonight, Young-ah”, Hongjoong said quietly, opening the door for all of them, “Seonghwa gets to shower first.”
“What, why?”
Seonghwa gave the captain a hard stare as he turned around. There was no need to tell the kids. But Hongjoong just winked. “Because I say so. Besides, he never gets the first shower because he cooks for us. I’m ordering take-out, so Seonghwa can have the first shower for once.”
“Thanks, Joong-ah”, Seonghwa said, appreciating the captain more than ever.
He quickly got himself ready and stepped under the amazing warmth. It soothed his muscles and he was starting to get really sleepy.
That was when the dizziness really hit.
Seonghwa, especially being a hyung, should have known better. Nothing good came out of taking a hot shower when already dizzy and feverish. Yes, he had no illusions about that - he had been running a temperature all afternoon, he was sure of it. But the hot water felt good until it didn’t.
Quickly he shut the water off and stepped outside to dry himself off. The heat of the shower was misty in the bathroom air. Seonghwa forwent any skincare and hair product routines in favor of just putting on his clothes and fleeing the oppressive heat.
Once outside in the hallway he managed to take a deep breath of colder air. Already he was sweating again and the shower was slowly becoming useless. Even worse, the dizziness didn’t stop. The hallway was swirling in front of his eyes and he felt himself tilt to the side.
⌛
“Hyung?”, a loud voice called and somebody was tapping his cheek. Annoyed, Seonghwa groaned and tried to slap the hand away. Instead whoever it was caught his hand in theirs and held on tight.
Slowly Seonghwa blinked open his eyes to stare into the wide-eyed gaze of Jongho, who looked like he had a halo around his head. Another blink and Seonghwa realized that it was just the overhead lights that made the maknae shine.
“Wha’ happ’n’?”, he slurred, his tongue uncooperative in his mouth.
Jongho moved a bit away and Seonghwa was able to see that he was laying in the middle of the hallway, his members surrounding him. Hongjoong and Yunho were kneeling next to the maknae. Yeosang and Woyooung were cuddled up in San’s arms somewhere by Seonghwa’s feet. Mingi was nowhere to be seen.
“You fainted when you came out of the shower”, Hongjoong explained, his voice a bit shaky, “you are lucky Yeosang managed to catch you.”
“Oh, uh, thank you?”, Seonghwa mumbled and tried to sit up. Yunho pressed his hand to his chest to keep him from getting up.
“No, stay down for a moment, Hwa-hyung”, he said concerned, “you just fainted, we don’t need that again. Let’s wait until Mingi returns with the manager.”
“In the meantime, let’s take your temperature again”, Hongjoong added and suddenly Seonghwa had the familiar but unwelcome metallic taste in his mouth. He mustered up a glare but from the way Yunho cooed he probably didn’t succeed.
“39.5°C”, Hongjoong whispered, his voice sounding a bit wet, “Seonghwa, you absolute idiot! Why didn’t you say anything? You promised you would tell me if you didn’t feel good.” The captain wiped at his eyes, refusing to let the tears he was obviously suppressing fall.
“I didn’t feel that bad then”, Seonghwa mumbled. He hated burdening his best friend with his issues. Hongjoong already had so much on his plate with his captain duties, the dongsaengs and producing. Seonghwa hadn’t wanted to be another strain pulling on him. Besides, he truly hadn’t felt so bad.
“How do you feel now?”, Jongho asked carefully.
For a moment Seonghwa just lazily watched Yunho place a comforting hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder to calm down the agitated leader. Then the question hit him.
His head was hurting badly and everything felt heavy. Even thinking was hard.
“Like I’m stuck in a bog”, Seonghwa settled on. It must have made more sense in his head, seeing the confused faces of his members.
Luckily that was when Mingi arrived with a manager in tow.
“Running a fever of 39.5°C and he passed out after his shower. He isn’t really making much sense”, Hongjoong said before the manager even had the chance to ask.
“I’m good”, Seonghwa groaned, ignoring the huffs from the youngers.
“Hm, I’m sure of that”, the manager placated. Seonghwa pouted. He didn’t want to be treated like a child. At least not like a petulant, whining child. Some cuddles could be acceptable.
“Can I just go to bed and sleep this off?”, he asked impatiently. The manger felt his forehead, then stroked back his hair.
“I think so. I really want to avoid a hospital visit. Let Yunho-yah and Mingi-yah help you to bed and we’ll get you some medication. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight and if you start getting worse I’ll take you. Hongjoong-ah can keep an eye on you.”
“Okay”, Seonghwa agreed. Yunho and Mingi knelt down next to him and wrapped his arms around their shoulders. Then they stood up.
Oh God. Everything was tilting, swirling, moving, falling at the same time. Seonghwa’s knees buckled beneath him and only the quick reflexes of Yunho, who barely managed to grab him in a better hold, had him stay on his feet.
“Down”, the dancer commanded and Seonghwa found himself back on the ground. The manager tapped his cheek again. This time Seonghwa was too focused on not puking everywhere to do anything about the annoying hands. It felt like he was losing his balance even while laying on his back. It was disorienting to say the least so he closed his eyes, clutching the hand holding his own.
⌛
When Seonghwa was able to open his eyes again the hallway was much emptier. Only the manager, Hongjoong and Yunho were kneeling beside him.
“Hey, you with us?”, Hongjoong asked worriedly, biting his lip. It was his hand in Seonghwa’s that had kept him grounded. But Seonghwa knew it was comforting the captain as much as it was comforting him. He gently squeezed it,
“Yeah, I just got dizzy”, Seonghwa mumbled.
“No kidding”, the manager agreed. “Do you think you can sit up? Laying down to standing apparently wasn’t the best idea.”
Seonghwa nodded, pleased that the vertigo wasn’t as bad as it was before. Gently he was lifted to lean against Yunho’s strong chest. Comfy.
“Drink and take the pills”, manager-hyung said, holding out a bottle. “You’re surely dehydrated.”
Hongjoong opened the bottle for him and helped Seonghwa drink as his hand was shaking too badly to hold the bottle himself.
“Where are the kids?”, Seonghwa asked after he had drunk about half. He hadn’t even noticed how thirsty he was. But now that the need was quelled he was starting to get tired.
The manager smiled at him. “We sent them to the living room. They are really worried about you but we figured you might enjoy some privacy.” Seonghwa nodded, thankful. He had felt a bit like an animal trapped in a zoo with everybody staring at him.
“Can you eat a cereal bar?”, Hongjoong asked, holding out an already unwrapped bar. Seonghwa’s favorite. He wasn’t necessarily hungry but he knew it was Hongjoong’s way of helping him. Also, some sugar might do him some good.
He slowly nibbled on the bar, taking the pills between bites with sips of water.
“I want to sleep”, he mumbled, once he was finished. It was so hard to keep his eyes open.
“Of course”, Yunho said and Seonghwa felt himself lifted to his chest. It was a bit nauseating but the prospect of getting to bed overruled every other feeling.
It was as if he had blinked and then he found himself tucked under warm covers. Hongjoong was sitting at his side in a repeat of the day before. Gently he stroked Seonghwa’s hair back.
“You have tomorrow, and the day after, off. Sleep.”
And sleep Seonghwa did.
⌛
If he woke up in the middle of the night to find a Hongjoong-sized teddy bear by his side he didn’t complain.
Complain he did when he wasn’t allowed out of bed the next day, his dongsaengs fussing over him.
But he loved them too much to be very annoyed and he knew their worry also came from love, so he didn’t really mind.
#kpop#kpop sick#kpop sickfic#ateez sickfic#ateez#sickfic#seonghwa#seonghwa sickie#hongjoong caretaker#⌛#request fill#request answer#🧚🏻♀️#⭐
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The English Stabel Part 1
Daniel Craig is the owner, boss and CEO of his won company named Craig Systems in the Worldwide distribution of his specially engineered laptop.He invites me in to his office the very next day early in the morning I walk through the swinging door and say hello to the guards as I enter the elevator.My boss is literally the only one then I can see across from me I cross the lengthy hall way and makes my way to his room with a scowl on my face.
He slams his fist on his desk with a hard fist demanding that I close the door behind me and stand In front of my desks before he sighs.I can hear his deep breathing so I sit on the chair next to me awaiting for whatever he is about to unleash on me in a fit of terror I am use to. He apparently wants to go over my project so even though he is expecting a sd card for him to input I surprise him with a lengthy stick.
“This is not a fucking game Lawrence! I am your boss get with the program.” He howls at me to which I smile pointing the wand at his face. “What the fuck stop! You fool.” He is stating pointing me with a harsh tone till I roll my eyes at him which only made him more angry at me. Angrier he gets the steam steams from his ears enticing me to new levels where the minute press a sole button on it a laser shoots straight in to his eyes.
I instruct him to stand by the window so I can see him in the light he is not that bad looking with a serious cold expression on his face to say fuck off and I walk over to him as I plant a kiss. “You see so much better to do as you are told, forget who you are and become all mine.” I whisper in his ears before I sit him down on the chair as I slip on to his lap feeling him up I enjoy my conquest.
Unfortunately for me his son Tom enters the scene with a smirk quickly transforming in to a expression of disgust and he is about to pummel me with his fist he races at me butI set my foot forth as he trip and fell forward on to the carpet.The anger rises when he stares up at me as I close the door once more he attempts to tackle and I let him succeed in that because he is already mine.
when he pins me down he catches wind of a strange beam floating through the room. My hand took the beam leading his eyes to the mirror I press the button as the laser hit the mirror shooting back at him it split in to three lights of beam one to his forehead and the others in his eyes. He froze in time with his body stuck I laugh rolling his off my body and I kiss him the I snap my finger as both men rise there feet they fall to his knees in utter obedience.
“Daniel and Tom! Can you both hear me right now? You both shook your head in total obedience as I agree with them knowing you both belong to me.” I smack my hand together feeling them rub on together in succession the window shades drop and the local settle I point upward as they rise begin to do a striptease for me on my command I have taken absolute control of them forever.
They fell to his knees they both crawl over to me sitting on their knees they begin rubbing my legs sweetly kissing them with time we all learn and I pull them up to my lips one arm of each of them land on my shoulder as I smell the intoxicating aroma spread on to my body we start to make out with each other heavily. “Mmmm! Oh My Master Lawrence.” Tom states. “My love, you are my god.” Daniel begs.
Daniel and Tom leave the day early carrying me with them on a work errand taking me to the family mansion in the cars we race on to the streets we drove off to the city streets of to his mansion. “Good bois! Meet me in the living room we have to plan some things out for the longterm starting with you guys sign over everything to me and you gleefully agree with me.” I say with pride as they sit down.
I did not realize that they were planning to have a barbecue that day for the launch of his third eldest sons twenty four seven holiday hotel. His name is Jamie he is pretty hot amongst the hottie and the family he is someone to be reckoned with an evil looking skull on his face as he stares at me and is ready to approach me. Tom stands up as blocking him from attacking me but of course.
He throws a punch and he hits his dad to which he is in complete disbelief at his own behavior and he beg his father for the man’s forgiveness but Daniel does not care so he ignore him. I nod my head alerting, both of my slave men to jump into action instead beside him again, and they slip in back of him grabbing his shoulder, they pin him down still looking at me such affection of love.
Using the wand I gave him pressing the only button as he freezes and call for the two men to set up the barbecue and get it all set up to they exit not to happy they had to leave. “Jamie can you hear me? “ I ask he shakes his head answering yes to me as he licks his lips listening to my every word we go upstairs clean him up and get him dress for the party.
“Go place the this as card in to the lap top so you can enjoy true mental recalibration while dancing away to your madness and total surrender.” He replies doing exactly as instructed the music starts when Ellis walks in to the massive backyard he lays his hand on the wall and he began to lean on it lost to the sound.
“Ellis right? That’s your name come join all of the dancing.”
“Good boi! Flow free”
“Party hard let all else go”
“Embrace the craziness “
“Join the fun”
“Enjoy me”
“I am your Master”
“Master Lawrence “
“I love you Ellis”
“Please meet my son James”
“Nice to meet you !”
“Who are you ?”
“Do you like the music?”
“Answer the question “
“I bet you do”
“It’s in your head “
“Feels so good”
“Stop”
“You can’t think”
“STOP”
“Mwahahahahaha “
“Admit “
“Nnooo”
“Admit”
“You are hot”
“Yes”
“You want me so bad you can taste me”
“Hi, I am Henry”
“Yes Master Lawrence”
The end
#the english#english gentleman#music#hypnotized guys#hypnosis#mind control#reprogramming#hypno slave#hypno submission#mind control slaves#barbecue#daniel craig#tom hardy#jamie lomas#Tom Ellis#jamie dornan#henry cavill#The Ultimate Hypno Harem
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For the WIP ask… I must know what Obi-Wan messing with the Kaminoans is about 😂
OH GOD OKAY SO
For minor context: I just,,, whenever I am in a serious writers block I will write the dumbest shit I can think of to get myself out of if. My logic is if its supposed to be hot garbage thats funny then it doesnt have to be good (because I am a perfectionist…. And a single typo will make me go howls moving castle hairdye scen)
So this fic is a “holy shit I am so blocked right now” type of fic
Set during attack of the clones, Obi-Wan goes to Kamino to find out who tried to assasinate Padmè. When he finds the Kaminoans expect him though, he goes along with it a little too much. Featuring amongst other things:
A Kaminoan who allegedly (according to Obi-Wan) cheated on her own husband with a fish
James Bond esque villain Cody
Fake marriage between Obi-Wan and Cody
And more!!!
Anyway this fic is not to be taken seriously but here is a sneak peek
“You will be glad to know the production of your army is well on it’s way,” the woman says, trying to steer towards a safer topic.
Obi-Wan decides not to let the topic go despite the gracious out he has been given.
“Yes well, we will talk about all of that later with the prime minister. Tell me about your honey moon first. I’m so sad I missed out on the news letter you and… Bob had sent out. You know, with the fire and all that.”
The Kaminoan is now looking at him like Obi-Wan grew a second head. What kind of name is Bob? The ocean is starting to look rather tempting again. From the look on the Kaminoans face, she too is considering sending Obi-Wan out for a swim. With weights strapped to his legs. And his arms bound so he can’t swim.
“The fire?” she asks.
“Ah yeah, my beard caught fire. Awful affair, really. I had to be hospitalised for days. I know you told me to be more careful when I blow out candles on cakes, but I got too close again. That’s why I keep my beard so short now. You know how long it used to be.”
Obi-Wan has no idea where this is coming from, but his mouth won’t stop talking and with every word that tumbles out he is digging his grave deeper and deeper.
“Right,” The woman says. “I remember now, your husband send us a letter about it. Sorry I didn’t visit, I was holding a funeral for Timmy.”
Not the fish! How could she kill her own precious son. Okay well, she didn’t say *she* killed him, but she is definitely Obi-Wan’s prime suspect. He is trying to decide whether or not they are close enough that he would have gotten an invite to the funeral, or if it’s safe to ask how he died when the woman goes on again. She is apparently as committed to the bit as Obi-Wan is at this point.
“Sorry me and Bob didn’t invite you. We were going to, but it was all so last minute and then your husband send us that message about your hospitalisation. Timmy was ran over by a car, you see… It was all very tragic.”
Obi-Wan is trying to figure out what kind of person let’s a fish go out into a busy road, when the woman suddenly stops.
#star wars#obi wan kenobi#kaminoans#commander cody#i swear I normally write more serious shit than this but sometimes u have to be a little bit weird okay
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HOWLING at the reaction pic... no, because madam, I am not usually a tomarry girlie, and I was recommended your (utterly excellent) murder mystery, "one year in every ten" with the promise of a wonderful Ron (a promise that was fulfilled) and I came out of it being completely tomarrypilled but also, I don't know if your readers have already pointed this out to you, but your Ron and your Tom also have nastily good chemistry... especially in that one part where they have a heart-to-heart about loving Harry. And then I looked at your blog because what else do you do when you're a fan. And well. All I have to say is you're right about Ron being kind of Mother and you're Right that it's compelling. Sorry for the absolute mess that is this ask. Happy St. Paddy's!
anon, tom is shaking at the suggestion that he has actually admitted to loving harry at any point in the entire proceedings.
look, we know that ron's canonically not immune to the charms of thin, dark-haired men [kron nation rise up!], and i will die on the hill that lord voldemort isn't immune to the charms of gingers with a cracking pair of baby blues either [after all, why would he be so obsessed with dumbledore if he wasn't?], so i will roll around with glee in the idea that the combined forces of ronmort are going to enjoy messing with harry for the rest of time - in the one year in every ten universe, at least - by flirting with each other across the kitchen table in grimmauld place.
but ron's still going to remain a committed wife guy. obviously. hermione's getting treated right even when they're centenarians.
[lord, i have seen what you have done for others...]
my more serious point is that i'm always very interested by the fact that i get a lot of furious comments from people who have apparently read through 200,000 words of explicit-rated tomarry and been shocked to discover that the tomarry is explicit, who really take issue with the idea that ron's extraordinary love for harry might motivate him to try and understand just what exactly his friend might see in the dark lord.
and yet nobody ever says the same about hermione.
there does seem to be a general idea i notice in tomarry fics that hermione would be far more amenable to harry hooking up with a man who was obsessed with killing him than ron [also a theme i notice in other harry-centric slash pairings like drarry and snarry].
but i'm afraid i do just sincerely believe that ron would love harry enough that he'd be the first of the granger-weasleys to make the effort, and that he would discover in doing so that - since harry and tom are narrative mirrors - he, as harry's best friend... is going to quite like tom as well.
and, certainly that he's going to recognise that all of the things which ron is canonically shown to be really attuned to with harry - his grief, the weight of his orphanhood, the desire he has to belong to a family - also exist in spades in tom. one of ron's most underrated traits - especially within a fandom which likes to focus exclusively on his more negative characteristics - is that he is extraordinarily welcoming in that familial sense, that he clearly believes quite strongly in the idea that everything he and harry and hermione go through has given them a bond which is not only thicker than water but thicker than blood and will endure through anything. he is - and i'll die on this hill - the tomarry girly's secret weapon, and i love to see him get the respect he deserves in our little corner of the fandom.
and i also think that it's not only this version of tom [who is, of course, slightly saner than he is sometimes found...] who would like him - ron has lots of traits the canonical voldemort values, above all his loyalty, but also his pragmatism, his daring streak, and his intuition.
they make quite a formidable pairing. i can already tell harry regrets it.
[can i just also say that i continue to be delighted by the sheer number of people who tell me that one year in every ten is the first time they've read tomarry, or that they've tried it despite not being a fan of the pairing usually.]
[any and all engagement with fic is extraordinarily generous - obviously - but there's an extra layer of generosity in being willing to go in with an open mind to a pairing which might not immediately make sense to you which i really respect. i have encountered, as i'm sure many of us have, a great deal of the fandom's more narrow-minded denizens clutching their pearls at the idea that tomarry isn't automatically unpleasant or implausible, in a way which can often feel fairly demotivating as someone who thinks that it isn't in any meaningful sense a crack ship.]
[this is a very welcome reminder of the fact that far more people exist outside of this view than in it, and i shall never stop being grateful.]
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I've been fixating a bit (okay, more than a bit) on Agnes Nutter, to the point it's keeping me from pressing on with my reread. I'm just ... sitting here thinking about her, and reveling in the delicious parallels going on with her and Crowley. Or rather, with what I thought was a parallel, and is actually a pretty big difference, but is no less interesting for that fact.
Per usual, let's start with the text. Also per usual, it's a bit long and worth sharing in its entirety if only because the wry sense of humor makes me smile, so under the readmore it goes.
The English, by and large, being a crass and indolent race, were not as keen on burning women as other countries in Europe. In Germany the bonfires were built and burned with regular Teutonic thoroughness. Even the pious Scots, locked throughout history in a long-drawn-out battle with their arch-enemies the Scots, managed a few burnings to while away the long winter evenings. But the English never seemed to have the heart for it.
One reason for this may have to do with the manner of Agnes Nutter's death, which more or less marked the end of the serious witchhunting craze in England. A howling mob, reduced to utter fury by her habit of going around being intelligent and curing people, arrived at her house one April evening to find her sitting with her coat on, waiting for them.
"Ye're tardie," she said to them. "I shoulde have beene aflame ten minutes since."
Then she got up and hobbled slowly through the suddenly silent crowd, out of the cottage, and to the bonfire that had been hastily thrown together on the village green. Legend says that she climbed awkwardly onto the pyre and thrust her arms around the stake behind her.
"Tye yt well," she said to the astonished witchfinder. And then, as the villagers sidled toward the pyre, she raised her handsome head in the firelight and said, "Gather ye ryte close, goode people. Come close untyl the fire near scorch ye, for I charge ye that alle must see how thee last true wytch in England dies. For wytch I am, for soe I am judged, yette I knoe not what my true Cryme may be. And therefore let myne deathe be a messuage to the worlde. Gather ye ryte close, I saye, and marke well the fate of alle who meddle with suche as theye do none understande."
And, apparently, she smiled and looked up at the sky over the village and added, "That goes for you as welle, yowe daft old foole."
And after that strange blasphemy she said no more. She let them gag her, and stood imperiously as the torches were put to the dry wood.
The crowd grew nearer, one or two of its members a little uncertain as to whether they'd done the right thing, now they came to think about it.
Thirty seconds later an explosion took out the village green, scythed the valley clean of every living thing, and was seen as far away as Halifax.
There was much subsequent debate as to whether this had been sent by God or by Satan, but a note later found in Agnes Nutter's cottage indicated that any divine or devilish intervention had been materially helped by the contents of Agnes's petticoats, wherein she had with some foresight concealed eighty pounds of gunpowder and forty pounds of roofing nails.
What Agnes also left behind, on the kitchen table beside a note cancelling the milk, was a box and a book. There were specific instructions as to what should be done with the box, and equally specific instructions about what should be done with the book; it was to be sent to Agnes's son, John Device.
The people who found it-who were from the next village, and had been woken up by the explosion-considered ignoring the instructions and just burning the cottage, and then looked around at the twinkling fires and nail-studded wreckage and decided not to. Besides, Agnes's note included painfully precise predictions about what would happen to people who did not carry out her orders.
The man who put the torch to Agnes Nutter was a Witchfinder Major. They found his hat in a tree two miles away.
I mentioned before how fascinated I was by Agnes just accepting the witchy label: "For wytch I am, for soe I am judged, yette I knoe not what my true Cryme may be." Anathema seems more like a witch in a more real sense; Agnes is someone who just somehow knows things and tries to use that to help her neighbors. And its not beyond the pale she would have known about what caused disease and helped her neighbors live more healthy lives. (A sort of proto-germ theory was written about in European medical circles by at least the 1300s, and in the Islamic world before that; though it wasn't mainstream science and certainly not well-known outside more academic circles.) How someone with Agnes's background would have learned about it is a much bigger stretch. And yes, it's absolutely plausible that her knowing that stuff and it actually working would seem like witchcraft to her neighbors. But if she was well-read, independently minded, or just stumbled on the right book somehow, certainly not impossible she could have known.
Of course, Good Omens isn't historical fiction, and I suspect Agnes knows because the plot demands it. ""A howling mob, reduced to utter fury by her habit of going around being intelligent"? Especially when the her is, well, a her? Sadly, that's hardly beyond the pale either, historically speaking.
What's fascinating is Agnes seems to blame the people around her, or at least hold them responsible, for not knowing things I really don't see why they should have known. Germ theory is one thing. It's a stretch that a bunch of 16th-century (or whenever exactly this is) provincials would be up on Ibn Sina's or Fracastoro's theories, and the real problem is them giving in to fear at their lack of control when she knows something they didn't. Couldn't have known, even, at least not practically.
That's even more the case with her death. I'm not saying it's not justified: they're trying to kill her, completely unjustifiably. But she doesn't say she's killing them in revenge for killing her, or in self-defense; rather: "Gather ye ryte close, I saye, and marke well the fate of alle who meddle with suche as theye do none understande." They're dead because they didn't understand what they were working with?
Which, to be clear, was not a vengeful God or Satan, but a woman who'd "with some foresight concealed eighty pounds of gunpowder and forty pounds of roofing nails" in her petticoats. And I suppose, yes, if someone had checked her garments for combustibles it's the kind of thing they could have found and a veteran of some sort could have recognized the danger there. But who would really think to look? Again: it's knowable in a technical sense. The knowledge is out there. But practically speaking, do we really hold them accountable for that.
Which brings me to Crowley. When I started this I was remembering some exchanges from the show about Crowley's driving, specifically:
Aziraphale: So we only have to find the birth records. Go through the hospital files.
Crowley: And then what?
A: And then we find the child.
C: And then what?
A: Watch out for that pedestrian.
C: She's on the street. She knows the risk she's taking.
A: Just watch the-- watch the road. Wh - where is this hospital, anyway?
C: A village near Oxford, Tadfield.
A: Crowley, you can't do 90 miles per hour in Central London.
C: Why not?
A: You'll get us killed. Well, inconveniently discorporated. (pause) Music. Why don't I put on a little... music?
Which isn't actually quite the way it happens in the book.
"I suppose - get off the road you clown - your people wouldn't consider--and the scooter you rode in on!-giving me asylum?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing - Watch out for that pedestrian!"
"It's on the street, it knows the risks it's taking!" said Crowley, easing the accelerating car between a parked car and a taxi and leaving a space which would have barely accepted even the best credit card.
"Watch the road! Watch the road! Where is this hospital, anyway?" "Somewhere south of Oxford!"
Aziraphale grabbed the dashboard. "You can't do ninety miles an hour in Central London!" Crowley peered at the dial. "Why not?" he said.
"You'll get us killed!" Aziraphale hesitated. "Inconveniently discorporated," he corrected, lamely, relaxing a little. "Anyway, you might kill other people."
Crowley shrugged. The angel had never really come to grips with the twentieth century, and didn't realize that it is perfectly possible to do ninety miles an hour down Oxford Street. You just arranged matters so that no one was in the way. And since everyone knew that it was impossible to do ninety miles an hour down Oxford Street, no one noticed.
So Crowley's not actually saying if he plows over a pedestrian speeding through London it's the pedestrian's fault in the books, though the show's dialogue can fairly be read that way. He knows he can miracle things so no one gets hurt, meaning there's nothing really to worry about. He's stressed over the whole missing antichrist thing, he's driven to distraction, and he indulges in a little bit of road rage as a treat.
But he's not really saying it would be the pedestrian's fault. Because while it's technically possible someone would be speeding through London and pedestrians should be aware of it, practically? Well, I've spent the last decade as a non-driver in another major cities. And on inner-city streets? You just don't expect cars to come barrelling down on you at those speeds. Because pedestrians are common and there's too much traffic for cars to go at those speeds. Technically it's a possibility you could get hit by a car speeding through (it happens), but it's not like you'd be negligent to think any car on the street would come slow enough you could see it and react.
Crowley seems to agree, and is only so lax about his criticism ("They know the risks!") because he also knows he can manage things so it just will never happen. But I doubt Agnes would be so generous.
I think that's what's so frustrating and fascinating to me about Agnes, in equal measure. She just sort of knows by fate or divine writ or whatever; and she holds everyone else to the same standard. If they'd searched her they could have known she'd essentially strapped herself with a bomb and shrapnel, so if they want to go and get themselves blown up that's their affair. Never mind that no one would think to search her. It's a fact, it's out there to be known, and that's enough.
Whereas Crowley at least is willing to introduce a bit of understanding into his thinking, and understands that just because something is technically discoverable doesn't mean everyone actually has the wherewithal to do said discovering. It reminds me of that conversation about free will I discussed a while back:
Aziraphale had tried to explain it to him once. The whole point, he'd said-this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement-the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be. Whereas people like Crowley and, of course, himself, were set in their ways right from the start. People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitively wicked.
Crowley had thought about this for some time and, around about 1023, had said, Hang on, that only works, right, if you start everyone off equal, okay? You can't start someone off in a muddy shack in the middle of a war zone and expect them to do as well as someone born in a -castle.
Ah, Aziraphale had said, that's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. Crowley had said, That's lunatic.
No, said Aziraphale, it's ineffable.
I guess --for me at least-- it makes Agnes's foresight seem a bit like God's omniscience. It makes sense but also isn't a compliment. Objectivity can be blinding in its way, and while Agnes may know, I don't think it can be truthfully said that she's doing much seeing here.
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Mirror for the bride of the King under the Mountain.
MsBilberry
Chapter 4 of 5
By morning, Bilbo's fever subsided a little, but overall the hobbit did not feel any better. His head was still dizzy and Bilbo didn’t get out of bed that day. He refused to eat, only drank a decoction of herbs that the dwarves brewed for him. In the evening, the fever intensified again, but Bilbo could not sleep: thoughts tearing apart his consciousness about Thorin and a terrible thunderstorm outside the window interfered with him. Lightning flashed and the rain poured like a wall, thundering like hail along the mountainside.
Bilbo either fell into short periods of sleep, in which he saw Thorin or his native Shire, or simply lay quietly, clutching the edges of the blanket in his fists and listening to the howling of the wind outside the window. At the end, Bilbo fell into another restless sleep again, tossing around in bed and breathing heavily, and after some time he woke up, but not from the howling of the wind and the crash of rain, but from the fact that someone was gently stroking his head and called by name.
“Bilbo, can you hear me?” such a familiar and calm voice said quietly.
Bilbo opened his eyes. Even despite the fatigue from fighting the disease and the twilight in the room, he could not be mistaken - Thorin was sitting on the bed next to him. In the glow of the candle, which the dwarf had apparently lit while Bilbo slept, Thorin's face looked worried and very tired. He was wearing a traveling suit, and his hair and shoulders were wet from the rain. Thorin removed his hand from Bilbo's head and instead took his hand in his, covering it with his other palm.
“Are you really here or am I dreaming all this?” Bilbo whispered. “How did you get here?”
“Well, of course I’m here,” Thorin smiled for a moment, but then his face became serious again. “How are you feeling, Bilbo?”
“Better,” said Bilbo, and it was true.
As soon as he saw Thorin, his health really improved. But Bilbo remembered about the wedding, about the fact that Thorin must now accompany the bride to the Mountain. Have they already arrived? So fast?
As if reading his thoughts, Thorin hastened to explain everything.
“As you probably already know, I left on business for a while, but on the way back, dwarves sent me a raven with a message that you were very sick. Therefore, I was forced to leave my companions and gallop forward, because the whole company would have been here only in a few days, and I could not wait so long without knowing what was wrong with you.”
“But how can this be?” Bilbo turned away from Thorin, hiding his face in the pillows.
The hobbit did not understand anything. Thorin was so worried about him that he left bride somewhere on the way to Erebor, even if accompanied by guards, relatives and servants? And rode at full speed even in such a terrible thunderstorm in order to quickly return and make sure that everything was okay with Bilbo?
Thorin leaned towards Bilbo and placed his hand on his forehead. There was no fever, but the hobbit was so exhausted that it seemed even more defenseless.
Without looking at Thorin, Bilbo said very quietly, as if addressing the wall, “I was in that room and saw the mirror. I know everything.”
#ao3#alternate universe#bagginshield#bilbo baggins#bilbo x thorin#erebor#fanfiction#king under the mountain#ms bilberry#my fic#thorin x bilbo#the hobbit#thorin oakenshield#thilbo#bilbo#thorin
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Werewolf Steve x Vampire Eddie
Part 1/?
Steve watched as Eddie back up with that tell-tale look on his face.
“Munson don’t you do it. Don’t you run away from me.” Steve advanced, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
Eddie, the bastard, just grinned and transformed right then and there, his wings taking him up into the sky and away from this conversation.
“Dammit!”, Steve hissed, annoyed.
“Yep, saw that comin’“, Dustin had the audacity to comment from the sidelines.
Steve rounded on him. “This is all your fault Henderson.”
“My fault?”
Yes. His fault. Because Eddie Munson never would’ve strolled into Steve’s life had he not met him on that fateful night.
The full moon resonated with Steve and he had been running around with Robin and Jonathan when he heard Dustin’s stray howl. When Steve didn’t hear the answering call of any of their pack, he parted from his two friends to see what was up, howling a reply himself.
It was odd for Dustin to be alone. But it turned out he wasn’t. Because apparently, in his abundance of time, Dustin not only made friends with a vampire but the most insufferable one in all of existence. Steve didn’t realize this at first though. He only saw a vampire advancing on a cub and simply reacted.
So what if he bit Dustin’s new friend? Eddie deserved it. Retroactively. By pulling moves like this.
“I invite him to dinner and somehow I’m the asshole?”, Steve frowned.
Dustin shrugged. “Eddie said he doesn’t do pack stuff.”
“He’s taking the loner thing too seriously.”
They returned back home and Dustin reported Steve’s failure at inviting Eddie.
“Can’t blame the guy”, Robin said. “Vamps aren’t the most social bunch. Pass the potatoes.”
“Also, the first glimpse of ‘pack stuff’ he saw was a grooming”, Max said as she handed the bowl over. “I think that’d turn most folks away.”
“But he has a whole club of vampires he hangs out with”, Steve argued.
“There’s nothing wrong with hygiene”, Joyce piped up. “As for this friend of Dustin’s, we need to let him acclimate at his own pace.”
“He’s one blood sucker going into a den of wolves”, Hopper said. “He’s right to be cautious.”
Cautious. Right. So far, whenever Eddie hung out with Dustin or any member of their pack, it was on neutral ground. For some reason, Steve took personal offense to the fact Munson didn’t want to come over.
------------
A few nights later, when Dustin reported as much when he and Eddie went to the arcade, Eddie pushed away from the air hockey table and began to pace around.
“I knew it. I just knew it.”
“Knew what?”, Dustin moved away from the table too while Mike and Erica moved in to continue the game like nothing happened.
“This is how they get ya”, Eddie pointed at Dustin. “They lure you in with a cute kid. Or a dog. Or both. And then all of a sudden you’re meeting the family, and picking out wedding invitations and before you know it I’m choppin’ the locks and we’re all...Leave it to Beaver bullshit!”
“Uhh, did Steve ask you out and I missed it?”, Erica asked, definitely not missing a beat as she scored on Mike.
“I am also confused”, Dustin said. “Because I was under the impression that you and Steve were at the ‘begrudgingly tolerant’ stage. Are you trying to say-wait, what are you trying to say?”
Erica’s brow raised. “Are you into Steve?”
Mike whipped around, giving Erica a free point. “Eddie what the hell? Steve? Harrington? Steve Harrington?”
“Over my dead body”, Eddie said. “Over my dead body I’m falling for that...that...”
“Watch it”, Dustin warned.
“That hairball.”
“That’s fair”, Dustin shrugged.
“I mean it would explain why you always lose whatever shred of cool you have around him”, Erica said matter-of-factly. “And why you always got full-bat when you’ve exhausted that cool. And why you’re always talkin’ about the way he smells-”
“Cause he smells like wet dog! And...something else.”
“Oh my god.” Mike was going through a crisis. “Oh my god!”
Eddie ran a hand through his hair. “Stop saying that like you’re having a revelation Wheeler.”
“Eddie. Serious question.” Dustin put his hands together. “Do you have a crush on Steve?”
Eddie would’ve brandished his fangs but that stopped working on these kids months ago.
----------------------
“How come you never ask Robin to do this?”, Steve asked.
“I love her to death, but she’s not going anywhere near my plants”, Nancy said as she knelt down.
Steve was watering a bunch of things he didn’t know the names of. Nancy was picking like she knew all their secrets. The full moon was coming up. She must have a spell planned.
“Full moon will be soon”, Nancy said, rather randomly.
“Yeah.”
“And you’re going to do some running?”
“Yeah. Robin will be out too.” Which she should know, the two had been dating for about a year. So why was Nancy asking?
“Steve, what are you and Eddie doing?”
Trust Nancy to cut through the bullshit.
“We are not doing anything. He’s fine with just being friends with Dustin, and the other kids, and just hanging out in town, and that’s fine, and that’s it. That’s it, Nance.”
“Hmm. Well Mike said-”
“I mean how could he not just come to dinner, huh? Like I get that he knows Will and Dustin but Max doesn’t play DnD and call me crazy but I think he and Robin would hit it off and if he’s...masquerading as some kinda mentor for Dustin then he should get to know his family.”
“You’re right”, Nancy said, standing with the basket of her harvest. “He should get to know the family.”
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1) I could have told you that. I knew all of that, even explained it in a Tumblr post a couple of weeks ago. Where's my linguistics degree? Can I get a linguistics degree for my Tumblr blog?
To be fair I don't think I get any special credit for deep analysis for picking up on that, it's kind of the engine by which their entire double act works. Which anyone who listens to it will be aware of, but come on, person who wrote some stuff to get a linguistics degree, you’re not supposed to actually spell it out. This is like when Lee and Herring started straightforwardly informing the audience who would be taking the high and low status for that episode. The entire joke of that bit being that it doesn’t work, you can’t do that or you’ll ruin the illusion.
Closest they’ve come to doing that before now was that time when they Elis joked that one of them should make a massive life change so that they’d be more different from each other because there always needs to be a bit of tension created by the differences between members of a double act, and John said they don’t need that because they have it in their different levels of career success, and that may have been pulling back the curtain just slightly too far because there wasn’t really any way to reply.
2) This is a longshot, but I don’t suppose anyone would know how to find that flowchart? Apparently they put it out on Twitter (I am not I am not I am not I am not calling it by any other name and I kind of hate how I’m starting to see people shift from jokingly saying “I guess we’re supposed to call it X now” to just saying “I saw this on X” like that’s a reasonable thing, I don’t even use that website and I objected to its normalization as a tool of serious discourse in the first place but this is a step too far) in 2016, does anyone know how to find Tweets from 2016?
3) While trying to Google this Tweet from 2016, I came across the John Robins mailing list, which I had not previously known existed, so of course I joined it. There is also an archive of these emails online, and the latest one says:
That said, I will be releasing a recording of the show on Bandcamp in some form. Probably around March / April this year. I know it has value, and I was so consistently blown away by all the people who came to see it, it means so very much. I will pull my socks up and listen back to the recordings I have and make the necessary edits to create an acceptable representation of Howl for you to listen to.
Hooray! Thank you, John. You’re the best. I feel like I should make a joke here but instead I’m going to say what I’m actually thinking, which is that March or April would be perfect for me, as I need something to motivate myself to keep not drinking/drinking to far below problem levels (if I’m capable of doing the latter, which I may not be, I don’t know) past January, and if I listen to the “I realized I was an alcoholic and quit” show while being back to my pre-2024 drinking levels, it will just make me feel guilty. But if I listen to it when I’m at a good place with that, even if it’s still hard and feels bad, it will be easier to enjoy. And you shouldn’t take comedy as your reason for big life decisions, but right now I’ll grasp at any motivational straws, and that might help. So, seriously, for real, thanks John.
I am aware that if I start using that as motivation not to drink, this will kick the level of parasociality in my John Robins fandom into a new gear, which is always a recipie for disappointment. If John Robins has sexually harassed anyone, I need that to come out now rather than later (I'm like... I mean I am kidding, I wouldn't start drinking again just because of John Robins, I'm just saying that at this point his comedy is part of what's keeping me not drinking, and the possibility of that sort of thing leading to disappointment is the first thing that comes to mind if I decide to believe in something). It's fine if a story comes out where he was just kind of a dick, his genuine unlikeabilty is one of my favourite things about him as a comedian. But please let it have limits. (Note: Yes I am working on actual coping mechanisms in real life and not just relying on comedy recordings, but it all helps.)
4) As I found earlier today when I was cutting up all those Textual Healing clips, it is really fucking annoying that those podcasts keep putting in the radio sting 0.0000000000003 nanoseconds after John or Elis finish talking, and regularly wait about -0.5 seconds by which I mean they’ll play the sting over some talking, so it’s hard to cut out clips without including the annoying sting. Which I guess is the point of broadcasting stings. Sorry that the John/Elis clips I cut out so frequently feature the broadcasting stings, it’s hard to cut around them.
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book recs (sorted-ish by vibe). also i am not good at understanding what books are stressful and i’m not sure what will shatter your heart but i will try :)
books that made me feel things (but not heartbreak and pain):
Howl’s Moving Castle (and the whole series) by Diana Wynne Jones — is it a children’s book? yes. is it beautiful and wonderful and makes me so so happy? also yes. if you’ve seen the movie disregard it when reading the book. they’re similar in concept but not really the same. the movie is great but the book is great in a different way so i’d recommend it if you want something calm and magical and perfect
i am realizing that i don’t have any nice happy books
weird / lots of metaphors:
Vicious by V.E. Schwab (one of my fav authors) — this book,, is kinda fucked up. it is.. weird. the main character is in a rivalry with another guy that is so hateful on both ends that it’s actually kinda homoromantic ngl. it is a very revenge-focused book and it does get dark sometimes but overall it won’t shatter you i prommy
Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett — if you haven’t seen the show (doubtful, everyone has) and even if you have seen it it’s wonderful. the show is fantastic obviously but book crowley and book aziraphale will always have my heart
I really really recommend anything by Chuck Palahniuk. Fight Club is his most famous novel but it gets really fucked up so if that’s not your vibe maybe skip him. if it is your vibe i’d recommend The Invention Of Sound (really fucked up actually might shatter you i think it changed me irrevocably) or Invisible Monsters (mildly fucked up but I’m only halfway through it rn so it might get worse?)
The Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater (book one is The Raven Boys) — this series is gay and also weird. very weird. i don’t think i can explain it kind of weird. i think i read this whole series in 3 days when i got it. it has a definite vibe. i don’t know what that vibe is but it has one. also technically probably a ya series but i don’t remember
anything by Neal Shusterman — i was obsessed with his books for years i think i’ve read almost everything he’s written. a lot of his books are ya novels but they focus on a lot of serious issues in very interesting ways. one of my favorite series by him is called the Skinjacker trilogy and oh my god that sounds so sinister it’s not i prommy. first book is Everlost. it reads almost like a children’s book based on the vibes but it has some deep topics and i don’t remember if it will shatter your heart or not. would also recommend the scythe series and the unbound series but those also deal with heavier topics so keep that in mind
classics (some have a particular writing style that some people have a hard time understanding so if you do then ignore these):
read anything by Jane Austen but especially Emma it is so good
if you haven’t read the Great Gatsby do that. defiantly some gay vibes but a sad-ish end so idk. and it’s important to read. i read it every year. it’s so good
The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde — one of my favorite classics i was obsessed with this for years, kinda fucked up in the way that all classics are but it’s only sad depending on your outlook
the ones i’d recommend the most are Howl’s Moving Castle, Vicious, Good Omens, and Invisible Monsters
tbh i’m the type to look for heart-shattering, thought provoking, really weird books so i tried to recommend the less messed up ones. i was combing my bookshelf and looking through my drawers (i have so many books) but most of them make people cry so a lot of the ones i recommended were ya or on a thin line. except for Howl’s Moving Castle. it’s my #1 favorite chill book (and only chill book apparently)
but if you ever want books that will kill you on the spot i can recommend you great things
THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! v much appreciate the recs!!! to be fair most of the time idek what will be stressful or shatter my heart. like the last book i read which i Loved was extremely heartbreaking. i am just a mentally ill guy so i like to read things that don't make me have a complete emotional breakdown :-) i DO love weird/metaphorical books tho. also can you believe that i have a degree in english and i've never read the great gatsby OR any jane austen??? having professors who fought against the western literary canon was truly a blessing and a curse
of Course literally all of the books you rec'd are checked out from my library jghjhgjh but i will be bookmarking this list so i can check them out in a few weeks!!!
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I'll Be a Monster Too
Howl Pendragon x wolf shifter! reader
Howl's Moving Castle by Studio Ghibi
Genre: angst, brief happy moment, shifting into animal, strangers to besties to something? No happy ending? hunters, Howl forgets he is a wizard and has powers stuff 🤦♀️
It was happening again.
Howl's locked himself into the bathroom and won't let anyone in while green goo seeped through between the floor boards of the castle and the bottom of the bathroom door.
Markle lead you to the goo leaking room Howl decided to hole up in and left you to your own devices, he knew the goo would soon stop with you here. Softly knocking on the door you waited until it cracked open with sad blue eyes peeking through.
"Hey," you said.
"Hello, would you like to come in? Please."
Howl opened the door and let's the person in without any hesitation.
"I'm sorry it looks like I made a mess."
Howl gestures to the goo and looks a little ashamed and sad.
"... It's ok." you entered the bathroom.
"Thank you, would you like a cup of tea?"
Howl holds a kettle out to the person he let in, the kettle steaming.
"Just trying to make your mood a little better."
Howl gives a nervous smile as steam escapes their mouth, there are few tears in Howl's eyes.
"Oh, Howl," I put the kettle down and pull him into a hug.
"W-What are you doing?"
Howl was startled and confused but the tears they held back began to flood their face and pour as Howl embraced the person in their warm hug.
"Even if I turn into a monster?"
Howl asks softly, letting their hug tighten around the person who's reassuring them it'll be okay. And letting their tears of sadness flood down their cheeks.
"Then I'll be a monster too, and there's nothing wrong with that."
"I'm not alone?"
Howl looked up at the person, they were still crying at the fact they were reassured and weren't alone anymore.
"Thank you, I'm not alone anymore."
Howl said softly as they wiped their tears with they're sleeve.
"I'm a wolf shifter, Howl."
"W-What? Really?"
Howl's tears stop as they look up at the person, wondering if they're telling the truth or lying?
"Are you serious? You're a wolf shifter?"
"Yes, I was born shifter, but if I shift too much, I might never be able to turn back." My curse.
"If you can't turn back do you just stay like that forever?"
Howl tilted their head curiously, looking into the person's eyes as he questioned them further.
"Could you show me your shifting, I've never seen someone shift before..."
Howl looked at the person expectingly and hopefully, hoping they show him how their shifting looks and how it works.
"Of course." I turn to the window and jump. Howl shouts in alarm. But when I landed on the ground I am no longer a human, but a 7 foot, silver wolf.
Howl watches in amazement and excitement at the person turning completely into a wolf, Howl was so curious and fascinated by the person's shifting as he looks with amazement.
"Woah...that's so cool."
Howl looks in wonder and amazement at the person's shifting, Howl has never seen something so cool in they're entire life.
You howl as you ran across the hills and Howl's Moving Castle moving when you go too far.
Howl laughs as his Moving Castle follows her, laughing with glee as they go with his friend as he runs across the hills and fields.
Howl loves the feeling of the open air, it's fresh and free, Howl enjoys the feeling of the wind on his face as he travels with the person. This may be the best moment of all of Howl's life.
But soon that moment ended.
A few days later, they were attacked.
"We need to run!"
Howl yells out in fear as they looked over to you, fear and excitement was apparent in his voice and expression on his face.
"We need to get away!"
"I'm sorry, Howl." Tears escaped your eyes. "I'm a danger here. No matter where I go they will always follow. Its better if I just-"
"No! You can't do that, if you go away I'd feel alone again."
Howl's voice broke as tears stained his face again, the sadness was apparent in Howl's voice and eyes as he stared at you.
"You can't go."
"Howl, I could hurt you-"
"I don't care!"
Howl cut the person off as they hugged them tightly.
"I don't care if you hurt me, I don't want you to go! Please...you can't go."
Howl's voice was filled with sadness and desperation, Howl never wanted to leave this person, ever.
BANG!
You sob.
"They've come for me, and they'd kill anyone who would stand in the way."
"I'll stand in the way! I won't let them take you, I'm not going to let you go away!"
Howl yells out in defiance as he pulls out his sword, tears still staining his face but a determined look in his eyes as he stared at the people as they came closer.
"I won't let you get hurt."
Finally the "people" broke in.
"Oh, lone wolf, oh, rogue wolf. Come out to play."
"No. Get away."
Howl growls at them, gripping tighter on the hilt of his sword he readies himself for them, a look of intense determination on his eyes.
"This is my castle. You have no business here. Leave. Now."
But you intervene. "NO, TAKE ME INSTEAD! JUST DON'T HURT HIM!"
Howl's eyes widened and looked at you in shock. He couldn't let you be taken away, but what could he do? He's not strong or powerful.
Howl didn't want harm to come to you.
"N-No, I'm not going to let that happen."
Howl raised his sword threateningly. His hands were shaking.
So you did what you had to do.
"Howl," I called out softly. "Howl, I will transform and I will fight them."
"No, don't you dare.."
Howl looks at the person with a look of pure determination and concern as tears started to fall from his cheeks, this was not going to end well.
"They're too much! You can't fight them."
Howl looks back, anger brewing in his eyes, he wasn't going to let anyone take his last friend.
"I can, but I might not be able to turn back," tears slipped through.
"Its a full moon, my transformation will be powerful, but I may never turn human again. This is my curse, Howl."
Howl gasps and covers his eyes with his arm at the person's revelation.
He didn't want this to happen. He didn't want his only friend to become a wolf forever.
He was so, so, afraid.
"N-No."
Howl was in complete denial of the truth, tears stained his face and his voice started to break.
"I love you, Howl." You kiss his forehead then pulled back pressing our foreheads together. "I wish we had more time."
"What?! You love me?!"
Howl's voice was filled with surprise and confusion as he was taken aback by the person's confession.
His face was a mix of shock and surprise as he looked at you, tears still staining his cheeks.
You smile, making sure that the last time he sees your face as a human to be smiling, then you turn to the hunters.
"NO!"
Howl shouted out in fear and sadness before covering his face with his hands as he cried openly.
He couldn't believe this was happening. The person who was his best and only friend was becoming a wolf forever. He can't watch it happen, he just can't.
Howl sobbed openly as his heart shattered into countless pieces, this was so, so painful.
You pounce on the hunters shifting into a wolf in midair.
The hunters cried out as they were easily batted away by me as a wolf.
You run off so that the rest of the hunters would leave Howl's Castle, a tear slips through your eye.
Goodbye, Howl.
"No! Come back!"
Howl's sobs out, desperately wanting his best friend back with him in his castle where it's warm, and safe.
Howl sobs openly, watching his best friend leave forever, and he'll never be able to get them back.
Howl's heart breaks more and more and he falls to the ground, sobbing openly as he watches the person running away with his last bit of hope of being happy.
"Goodbye..."
Howl's voice was somber and sad as he looked down to the ground, sad his only friend was gone and might never come back to him.
All the happy memories Howl made with the person were now memories, not an activity he could do anymore.
He was all alone again.
Then, Sophie appears.
"Sophie?"
Howl looked up, his eyes widened with surprise.
"When did you get here?"
Howl's mind was filled with questions. How did Sophie know about your friend's leaving? And how did Sophie know it was the right time to come to him?
"Did our friend ask you to come and see me?"
Howl's questions seemed nonstop as his voice is filled with curiosity and wonder.
"Who?" Sophie asked confused.
"The person who was here, they left."
Howl looks down to the ground with sadness as their face was stained with tears, it was obvious who they were talking about.
"They just took off like that."
Howl looks up to Sophie with sorrowful eyes, they've just had their best and maybe only friend taken away by these hunters who hunt down anyone who is a shifter.
"I don't want them to get hurt.."
Howl's voice filled with sadness.
"Howl,..." Sophie smack him. "Then save her, you baka! You can turn into a giant bird!"
Howl quickly jumped as the slap caught them off guard, they were shocked and hurt even more that Sophie slapped them.
"O-Ow..."
Howl holds their cheek in pain as they look at Sophie.
"How-how would I do that!?"
Howl's eyes were wide and he was clearly hurt and sad that Sophie would hit them after what happened with the person who came to see Howl.
Howl was crying again, his cheeks were stained with tears still and they stung.
"Save her you, moron! You are a wizard for goodness sake!"
"I'll go...I'll try and save her..."
Howl sighed and wiped their tears away, their voice was filled with sadness and annoyance.
Howl started making plans.
He was gonna save his friend, no matter the cost, he was sure of it.
Howl was gonna bring back the only person who loved and cared for him in this world...
The end? Ig...
1,785 words.
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New Year in a psychiatric hospital, Moscow, USSR (1988), photographed by Pavel Krivtsov
“"Why did they cancel your insurance?" the engineer asked desperately. There was something he wanted to ask but he couldn't hit on the right question.
"I got the idea of putting well people in the hospital and sending the truly sick home."
"Why did you do that," asked the engineer, smiling slightly. He was not yet certain when the other was joking.
Again Sutter shrugged.
The engineer was silent.
Sutter rammed a wad through the barrel. "I had a patient once who lived under the necessity of being happy. He almost succeeded but did not quite. Since he did not, he became depressed. He became very unhappy that he was not happy. I put him in the terminal ward of the hospital, where he was surrounded by the dying. There he soon recovered his wits and became quite cheerful. Unfortunately and by the purest bad luck he happened to suffer a serious coronary before I sent him home. As soon as it became apparent that he was going to die, I took it upon myself to remove him from his oxygen tent and send him home to his family and garden. There he died. The hospital didn't like it much. His wife sued me for a half a million dollars. The insurance company had to pay."” (pages 218, 219)
Cleveland State Hospital (1946), photographed by Jerry and Mary Delaney Cooke
“"One morning," said Sutter, "I got a call from a lady who said that her husband was having a nervous breakdown, I knew the fellow. As a matter of fact, they lived two doors down. He was a Deke from Vanderbilt, president of Fair. field Coke and a very good fellow, cheerful and healthy and open-handed. It was nine o'clock in the morning, so I walked over from here. His wife let me in. There he stands in the living room dressed for work in his Haspel suit, shaved, showered, and in the pink, in fact still holding his attaché case beside him. All in order except that he was screaming, his mouth forming a perfect O. His corgi was howling and his children were peeping out from behind the stereo. His wife asked me for an opinion. After quieting him down and having a word with him, I told her that his screaming was not necessarily a bad thing in itself, that in some cases a person is better off screaming than not screaming - except that he was frightening the children. I prescribed the terminal ward for him and in two weeks he was right as rain."
The engineer leaned a degree closer. "I understand that. Now what I want to know is this: do you mean that in the terminal ward he discovered only that he was not so bad off, or is there more to it than that?"
Sutter looked at him curiously but did not reply.
"Did you get in trouble with him too?"
Sutter shrugged. "It was a near thing. His wife, who was a psychiatrically oriented type, put him into analysis with an old-timey hard-assed Freudian - they're only to be found down here in the South now - and he went crazy. Of course I got the blame for not putting him into treatment earlier. But she didn't sue me."
The engineer nodded toward the Deltans. "What about them?"
"What about them?"
"Would you put them in the terminal ward?"
"They're not screaming."
"Should they be screaming?"
"I should not presume to say. I only say that if they were screaming, I could have helped them once. I cannot do even that now. I am a pathologist."” (page 268, 269)
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#21. things you said when we were on top of the world for Quil & Embry?
Quil ran through the woods, Embry hot on his heels. It was the first time in months they had been able to run like this - free, full out, without any limits or dangers or threats blocking them in. The lead Cold Ones had backed down, left without a fight. Their constant patrols, training, and anxiety - it was all over. Sam wanted to have a celebratory bonfire, but first he had to tell the council what had happened in the field. He had given them an hour before they had to report back.
They ran until they got to their favorite spot, a cliff overlooking the ocean, it was too far from the path to comfortably get to, and few would be out in this weather regardless. But if you were a speedy shapeshifter who couldn’t get cold, it was the perfect time and place. They shared a look, then both ran off into the trees, coming back in human form wearing the same black sweatpants.
“We did it, man!” Quil said, giving Embry a high five.
“Thank God that’s over.. Not that we did much, after all,” Embry agreed. It fell silent for a few moments, neither quite sure what to say. “So um, can we talk now?” he finally added.
Quil smiled. “I’d like that.”
Living as a pack had its challenges. Especially when you could hear everyone’s thoughts, and they could hear yours. Sure, it made it easier to communicate when speaking wasn’t an option. But it also made having secrets impossible. And an errant thought wasn’t how Embry had wanted to tell Quil about his budding feelings. With the danger they were about to face, they agreed it was better to ignore them. Until now.
“Cool, cool,” Embry said, biting his lip. “Well, uh. You know where I stand. I think. What about you?”
Quil took a step closer to him. “I don’t think I do, actually,” he said with a smile. “Why don’t you remind me?”
“Quil!”
“Yes?” Another step closer.
“Can you be serious, please?” He took a deep breath, and Quil took his hand.
“I am being serious. One hundred percent, totally and completely, head over heels, serious about you.”
“Oh,” was all Embry could say.
“Duh. You’re my best friend.How could I not love you?”
“I love you, too,” Embry blurted out.
“About time,” Quil said, squeezing his hand and leaning in for a kiss.
“So, um. Are we like, together now?” Embry asked, pulling back.
“That’s typically what happens when two people love each other, yes.”
“Cool, cool,” Embry said, breaking into a wide smile.
“God, you’re a dork.” Quil gave a fond roll of his eyes.
“But I’m your dork,” Embry said, leaning in to kiss him again.
Just then, they heard a wolf howl in the distance: Sam’s way of letting them know they were late.
“Shit,” Quil said, pulling away and getting ready to phase back.
“It’s a celebration. Who cares if we’re late?” Embry grumbled, but moved to phase as well.
“Apparently Sam. But don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time to be together. Tomorrow and forever.”
more fic // request fic
“things you said” prompts
#quil ateara#embry call#quil x embry#embry x quil#twilight#twilight fanfic#twilight headcanons#tts#ttsfanfic#twilightfanfic#twilightfic#renegadefic#quil#embry
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#Marriage#This is apparently serious but I am howling.#I’d love to see these two in a debate.#Philosophy#physics
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.
#leaving this here for posterity bc i’m high off a good night but:#mr. troye sivan mellet’s concerts truly is the closest i’ll ever come to dionysian ecstasy#guess i’m reborn every two years now with the help of toronto’s lgbt community screeching lyrics at troye#and also dog howling. apparently. bc that was a definite thing and i Could Not#(on a more serious note: troye did heaven again tonight & called back to the proposal from 2016 and i. am tender.)#(and a little thrown back to the horrible night of the election.)#i always somehow see troye live when my life feels at its most precarious#it makes for a really vulnerable trisha and really intense PCD#anyway. nonetheless a very very good night.#still want that $90 sherpa jacket#personal
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SAGAU Work 34
Nanno Villain God/Goddess!Reader, crack
Tw: Slight gore but not much, since it’s our platonic bae @weakestpoint who’s gonna write the hardcore gore ehe~ New AU let’s goooo~ Characters: Morax, Barbatos, Raiden Shogun, Zhongli, Venti, Ei
“Please, you guys are so uninventive! That’s a boring execution. Such despair.” You swing your legs on the high roof ledges of the Shogun’s mansion and shout below.
“Wha-“ the massive following of cultists look up as they flinch from the all-too-familiar voice.
Hadn’t they cut off your tongue already? No, you should be dead, you are finished, and their eyes were witnessing the mangled corpse they were beating the shit out of. Then where and who was the voice coming from?
As they crane their necks looking up to no avail of locating you, you leapt down.
You have unlimited spare bodies to use anyway. You picked the right body data plan, after all. That was expensive, so it’d better be worth it.
You accessed your anemo power to lessen the fall damage and stood right on top of ‘your’ dead body. “Hi!” You grinned.
The crowd cowardly shrunk away, as usual, some crouching down, kneeling, and some of the foolish ones were pointing their weaponry towards you.
One of them shot their arrow straight to your head. ‘You’ died again, and the crowd released their held breaths.
“Hoorah! Am I right?” You chortled like Santa Clause in the Evil AU. You reappeared on the rooftop, but then decided to teleport again.
This time, you teleported right to face the back of the one who ‘killed you’.
“Well. That was rude.”
You put one of your ghostly cold hands on his shoulder and whispered breathily, like a howling wind spirit, into his ear. He fainted, and so did some of the crowd.
✨Pathetique✨. They could’ve been more aesthetically-pleasing with passing out. Hmph. The disrespect.
You dislocated both of the offender’s wrists, feeling somewhat merciful from your almost giddy mood. They were like a babble of clowns that amused you.
The asshats apparently didn’t learn anything, because Baal immediately started pulling out her booba sword. You turned to her and unequipped her weapons, including her sister’s sword. “Step the eff up, Raiden.” You said, mocking her (in the same way Kyle was mocked in the legendary vine).
Baal was left stunned as she sees herself no longer holding a weapon. You also snatched all of the Archons’ weapons, talent books, artefacts, everything. Maybe you would loot the other vision-bearing acolytes later.
Equipping yourself with those times, you visibly noticed your attributes/stats go up.
“Ei. I’m confiscating your Dango desserts and milk bottles.” Doot doot. You yoinked it and noticed Raiden’s puppet façade fade away, in place for the true Ei herself.
“🥺”
“I don’t speak in bottom. (Not today. I would but I’m kind of pissed, you know?)” You then switched from the valley girl accent to a booming Chad accent. “Speak up, Raisin Ei.”
“😭” Again, she attempted to guilt-trip you as she did to your first body. That was not very fetch of her.
“Nawww girlie, you killed me. I’m not amused right now. Hand over your vision.” You continued to speak in a very ‘manly’ way.
“I… don’t have a vision?” She attempted to fool you with her cat-like eyes and submission.
“You very much know what I mean. Your gnosis and the visions you haven’t returned yet. GIB ME VEE SHIOUN.” You deadpanned in a serious voice. You changed your tone to sound like a disgruntled history teacher.
You noticed Sara flying above, aiming an arrow at you. Ah, the crow-like general.
“I SAID, BE CREATIVE-“ you teleported Sara next to you and promptly disabled her wings with a snap of your fingertips.
“Huh-? My wings-“ You flicked your wrist idly. “Honey, you’re lucky I just locked them inside your body. They’re still here.” Before she could fully let out a sigh, you continue. “For now!” You loved how surprised and horrified she looked. It was almost worth the times your other bodies suffered, from her carrying out Baal’s orders.
“Y’all- I’m mad just because you guys didn’t even bother to kill me in a fun way. I’m disappointed. I’ve seen better in other worlds.” You’re straight up lying about only being mad for that reason, but that’ll make things more fun.
You sighed in the iconic drama kid font and twirl around to face Ei.
“Raisin. Gib me veeshion. Nawr.”
Zhongli took the opportunity to lunge at you with a spare shard of glass, this time aimed at your heart. You knew before he struck, but you mock-gasped instead of ducking from the attack.
“The betrayal! But the clapping of your booty cheeks had alerted me already. Such a shame.” ‘You’ died dramatically again.
They heaved as ‘you’ finally died, ‘your’ eyes fading out of focus. You’d feel bad for the cheering crowd if you weren’t slightly iritated.
“Oh dear, it’s getting boring~” you whistled. Your unlimited body package deal worked like a charm. It kind of is one, but it’s ingrained into your soul. You’re now reformed and standing on top of Zhongli’s head.
It was almost fun feeling him tense up under you, his fists visibly clenched like the Arthur meme. His geo colour scheme would’ve worked if his sleeve was yellowish. Pity.
The crowd felt invisible and that’s because they’ve been giving you unsurprising reactions. They’re starting to bore you.
“What the fu-“ Eh, classic Venti. You revelled in your twisted sense of humour, as you gazed at his dropped jaw.
“No, not the archon with the Wendy-ass haircut swearing at me.” He opened his mouth but you reached out with your electro powers to buzz his lips and hold them shut.
“SHUT. No. That’s an off-topic question. Permission denied. NEXT.”
You floated up and formed a skyscraping geo structure stronger than any of Zhongli’s attacks. You stood there menacingly, t-posing. Zhongli was tall, but not enough for you to see the whole scene with a bird-eye view.
‘It’s over, Anakin. I have the high ground. You underestimate my power.’ You think to yourself.
You continued your ‘speech’.
“Raisin. Visions now. Ven-tea, your apples. Shlong-li, your osmanthus wine. If I have to hear you wax about your wine again, I will bonk you in the face with Guizhong’s lock.” You paused as they attempted to absorb the absurd events that happened. Zhongli almost looked traumatised, as if he didn’t abuse your other selves. Your compassion had been going on a hiatus and it won’t be coming back anytime soon. Reasonably so. It didn’t help that the other times you tried to care resulted in your untimely demises.
“Oh, and kill me in creative mode this time!” You gave them encouraging thumbs-ups, reminiscent of a parent encouraging their toddler. You clapped mockingly when they finally managed to step forward under the increasing pressure of your now negative aura. “Good job! Don’t trip, little ones!” You sat on the geo tower and watch in amusement. If they could prove themselves to be fun enough, maybe you would let them try out new killing ideas on your body, before you ‘return the favour’.
You hope they would invent new death methods in your honour. Ehe~
A/N: not sure about this but ayo I hope y’all enjoyed it ehe~
#genshin impact#bamboo headcanons#genshin headcanons#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact headcanons#bamboo-zled#genshin#sagao#sagao genshin cult#genshin sagao#sagao au#genshin yandere sagao#sagao genshin#sagao genshin gore#sagao genshin crack#genshin crack#cult au#self aware genshin#genshin self aware cult#self aware genshin cult#self aware yandere genshin#self aware cult#sagao genshin impact#genshin impact sagao#villain au#sagao villain au#sagao nanno villain au#genshin nanno villain au#genshin nanno au#crack
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