#but I think I’ve ruined her reading experience BECAUSE I do the voices
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HP Rec Fest, Day 30
Here we come with more @hprecfest! Today I’m only reccing rare pairs since I couldn’t think of any pre-canon Drarry fics 🤔 I wonder if canon divergent / canon rewrite applies?? I don’t read them often either way, so I figured this would be a good opportunity to boost lesser known fics. I think this is my favorite rec post for the fest so far - there’s something so poetic in reccing these two specific fics alongside each other since Little Compton Street verse was my first (unforgettable, devastating) contact with Prongsfoot and 5 years later here I am reading them again - this time welcoming the pain. More embarrassing emosh blabbing below!
Day 30) a pre-canon fic:
empire builders by shecrows (James/Sirius, E, 25k)
Say, James, he rehearses in his head. Remember that time we were both roaring drunk at the end of term, and you put your cock in my mouth, and I came so hard I still get tingly thinking about it? Was that just a one off, d’you think, or did you want to do it again sometime?
Prongsfoot my beloved 😭😭😭 sometimes I feel like I’ll never feel as strongly about a ship as I feel for them which sounds so crazy because I don’t even read it! or, well. after being utterly ruined by Winter of ‘79 (curiously a fic within LCS verse as mentioned below) I promised myself I wouldn’t look for this ship anymore bc the inevitable tragedy of it depressed me way too much. I locked them away in a secret space deep within my heart and only allowed myself to re-awaken those feelings this year, with the brilliant empire builders. what a fic! a few lines in and I was hooked and completely obsessed with Sirius’ unbelievably spot on voice, the peak friends to lovers dynamics, and the unbearable sexual tension mixing guilt and devotion (my favorite shippy combo btw). fuck, they are so young and so lovable, and so attuned to each other it makes me wanna cry. never before a 25k fic has felt so short, I’ve read it in a frenzy and couldn’t stop thinking about their love for days. the best word to describe my state after this fic is “tormented” which might as well be the best compliment I’ve ever given in a rec.
Play Me Like A Love Song by @writcraft (Minerva/Will, E, 67k)
Minerva McGonagall doesn’t believe in love at first sight, which is why her instant attraction to drag king Wilhelmina ("Will") Grubbly-Plank is so unexpected. War tears apart the wizarding world and as one battle ends Minerva and Will must fight once more, this time for the lives of their friends on Little Compton Street. A love story spanning five decades defined by music, laughter and tears, in which love is not always easy, but it’s always worth fighting for.
truly a masterpiece of lesbian fiction, this fic is more like a religious experience, bold, brutally honest, romantic, eye-opening and necessary. I never thought I’d care so much for a ship like Will & Minerva but they worked their way inside my heart and I’m deeply moved by how their story encompasses everything that’s inherent to the queer experience: love, loss, resistance and hope. there’s so much joy and grief walking hand by hand, and it is our privilege to watch the characters mature and experience life as individuals and as a couple. Writ crafts oh so thoughtfully two stunning character studies (Minerva’s voice omg, please don’t @ me on my competence kink) while taking us by the hand into the magical universe of Little Compton Street, which is so completely irresistible and healing. I adore the atmosphere, the imagery, the soundtrack, and how this seductive setting allows them to explore their queerness in such a free, proud and joyful way *getting emosh* I feel like nothing I add here will make this story justice, it’s such a poignant and transformative fic but sadly deeply underrated like it happens to so many wlw tales. I hope this rec inspires at least one person to check it out and while at it please also check the entire series with a Drarry piece and a Prongsfoot piece, a perfect trifecta!
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Ted Lasso 3x8 Thoughts
I’ve written all of these after seeing the episode only one time but I think this one might benefit from a rewatch more than anything else. Even if, unfortunately, this was absolutely my least favorite episode of this stupid wonderful show. (Or was it? What will a rewatch reveal to me?)
I have tried very hard not to have a lot of fun-time-ruining expectations about this Media Experience that has bewitched me since January fucking 2021. But I’ll admit that I had some serious expectations about the writing of this episode. Keeley Hazell and Dylan Marron! I was so excited to see what the ultimate Keeley Jones expert, the Keeley inspiration, the namesake herself, would have to say about this character. And actually, I thought Juno Temple got some really incredible material to work with, and I think she acted the living fuck out of this episode. I came away with a deeper understanding of Keeley’s character. A sense of who she is when she wakes up in bed next to someone who delights her. A sense of how it feels when someone she loves deeply disappoints and hurts her, and how it feels when someone she could have loved chooses a status over a human, and how it feels when someone she used to love holds himself accountable to her.
There was so much about this episode that felt incredibly natural:
everything about Juno’s performance
the ways Jack is charming and tantalizing and expansive and the ways she’s small and cowardly and disappointing were perfect…wlw rep doesn’t happen in a vacuum of purity, this is wlw rep but this is also billionaire asshole rep this is venture capitalism rep this is richer-than-Rebecca-Welton rep this is manipulator rep
the perfect moment when Jade tells Nate to celebrate his victories after a lifetime of hearing his father shame him for taking pride in his successes
the anti-chemistry chemistry of Ted and Michelle and their long history
absolutely everything about Rebecca as lifeline and sense-talker for Ted (and soulmate…I’m so tired, but it just remains true that they’re fucking soulmates, and I hope they find out and I’m still pretty sure they will)
Beard in an apron making pancakes for his boys
Rebecca holding Keeley and telling her a possibly slightly exaggerated story about her introduction to masturbation to cheer up her beloved bestie
the utter pain of Roy being once again a very good person who has fucked up badly in a parking lot (this time with consequences)
Ted’s sweet little voices as he reads to Henry (and the WTF moment he has about himself after Henry has fallen asleep)
Last night my wife and I went out for a beer and broke down a bunch of these moments and how good they actually were, and how strange it was to have, honestly, a wealth of beautifully written and acted moments in an episode that really didn’t work for us. Because those highs made the lows seem so much lower.
The locker room scene…I’ve watched anti-harassment and standards-of-business videos for my corporate job that are better than whatever that was. I understand what they were trying to do. And I understand that this is a story that has so much real-life crossover and is so incredibly important to get right and was probably so complicated and often painful to write that I feel very empathetic about the ways that all that pressure might have conspired to make this episode worse instead of better. I have no interest in judging those conditions, nor do I think it’s some big hilarious gotcha that this writer (well, writers) wrote about this topic. But I do have to judge the final product, which reads like a group of people taking turns saying things like “This is a bad thing in our society” and “Is it so bad?” and “Yes, fellow man, it really is that bad” and “But wait, why should I have any responsibility for this bad thing in our society?” and “Well, here is why you actually do have some responsibility for this bad thing in our society.”
Even the Keeley-Rebecca scene wavers in and out, whereas normally a scene with those two is rock solid. They spend a lot of time explaining the societal conditions to each other instead of relying on the shorthand that two best friends would use to communicate. I mean, thank God Rebecca was totally with Keeley on this one—if she hadn’t been, that would’ve warranted something on the spectrum of lecture—but because she was, their exchange of lines about sexualization just had me feeling like I am watching a TV show about a very special issue, I am watching a TV show about a very special issue.
Just as I’m not looking to Jack Danvers to convince a homophobe why bi people are cool (she could be the coolest most respectful gal in the world and she’s not gonna convince a bigot that queer people actually are great!), I desperately wish they’d taken a less heavy hand with this stuff. Keeley’s pain—her vehement lack of embarrassment, her disappointment—says it all.
And I am so sorry to say that I feel like Brendan Hunt, who always, always knows when to dial it down and when to dial it up, when to bury and when to emote, dialed it way too far up when talking to Henry while Ted’s on the phone with Rebecca. I am a huge defender of how this show uses musical scenes; bring on the cheese, bring on the champagne bottle microphones, bring on the sing-alongs and heightened emotions and funeral rick rolls. Every other time a character has sung on this show, it’s been natural in the awkwardness and the slightly-outsized emotions and the inherent goofiness of it all. This time, they just could not create the right emotional conditions to earn this moment. I’m not going to give a detailed critique of a child's performance on a public website, but unfortunately I think this is a moment when the writers actually underwrote what Henry needed to say, because I’m mystified as to how he’s actually feeling and doing. Understanding those things is essential to understanding where this story is going, so I’m really upset that a huge chunk of information is missing now.
And that leads me to the incredibly unsettling ending. I had to be talked down off a ledge. I’m now pretty sure the ambiguities of how Ted and Michelle are around each other are about recognizing the ways they used to work, their common reference points, their knowledge of each other, while simultaneously experiencing yet another goodbye, yet another turning point in this (realistic, tbh) endless cycle of navigating the split. But I’m really struggling to understand Ted’s headspace in the final couple minutes of the show, whereas usually I feel like I’m practically living inside his brain as I watch.
I’ve loved s3 so far. I always knew it would be as distinct a thing of its own just as much as s1 and s2 were distinct from each other. As much as I’d be enjoying a return to the specific magic of s1, it would be impossible and wrong and even irresponsible of them to try to recreate it, and I think it would fall flat, and so I’m glad I knew that would never be my experience with this season of TV. And yet it’s a little unnerving, even as this person who’s tried to keep my high expectations open-ended, to feel so bummed about 3x8. The conversation over that beer about all the really good stuff did make me feel better, because it reminded me that the really badly done parts of this episode were less about story than about the circumstances of the storytelling. To me, those circumstances make the clunkers more forgivable instead of less. But it was still disappointing.
Probably every Ted Lasso fan feels this way on some level, but I am having such a singular experience. I am a fifteen-year-old girl again, holed up in my room because “no one understands………why I feel the way I feel about Ted Lasso.” The membrane between my takes and my empathetic yet judgmental reactions to other people’s takes is permeable and problematic. It’s shameful, but I want everyone to love it because I love it and I want everyone to calm down because I’m calm and I want everyone to be at the edge of their seat and not at all calm because I’m at the edge of my seat and not at all calm and I want everyone to love Ted/Rebecca even if they never kiss because I love Ted/Rebecca (even if they never kiss) and I want everyone to have hated this episode because I hated it and I want everyone to give it time and space to breathe because I’m trying to do that and I want everyone to wait and see what fucking happens because I’ve got some kind of freak patience when it comes to this fucking experience. I want to be my best self and I am not my best self. I’m insane about this show, and I’m not working on the issue. Eek.
#ted lasso#ted lasso meta#meta by me#ted lasso s3 spoilers#ted lasso 3x8#hot dork club#ted x rebecca#nate x jade#keeley x jack
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I decided to write something for a special someone. Happy birthday @starrjoy! What happens when I take a scene from Sonic Frontiers and sprinkle it a bit of their Pandora AU with it? You get this! I loved the moment Sonic and Knuckles had in the game, and I hope you like it too. Just a bit of what might be going on in Sonic's head during this heart to heart chat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the first time, the vibe on Ares Island was calm and stale. Even more so for being a desert environment. Things were seldom after the final vision of the Koco, and their… departure. These little guys were fighting in a war, and seemingly, none survived. Only their souls remained in these little figurines, but now they were just empty husks.
Knuckles sat on top of one of the ruins overlooking the plain. Sonic made his way over and sat beside his friend. There was tension in the air. Sonic was about to make one of his wisecrack comments to cheer him up, but stopped himself. It didn’t feel like the time.
Knuckles was taking what happened to the Koco hard. He did lead the Resistance during the war. He also panicked a bit when those robots were going to attack the bunker earlier. Maybe that brought back some bad memories.
Finally, the echidna spoke.
“Ages ago, my people were wiped out by a cataclysm. I know the Koco faced something similar. It reminds me I’m the last echidna. That I’m alone.”
A strong pain echoed in Sonic’s heart then. A pain he hadn’t thought about in years. The pain he felt losing his home, his entire culture, and his family, to such an event. One that he caused. It surprised him he didn’t think about it that much anymore. Old memories did start to pop up when he heard that spooky sky voice. The beginning of how it all fell apart. Every fiber of his being screamed to ignore it. But with his friends’ safety on the line, how could he?
Still, it finally dawned on him how similar his own past was to Knuckles’. All alone in the world, with no family. All because of some sort of deranged water deity took it all. At least you weren’t the one to cause the cataclysm, Sonic thought to himself.
Sonic did not say a word about his past. Knuckles might be the most understanding, since he shared a similar burden. But then again, Rad Red might start a rant about Sonic screwing up everything in his life. Maybe not right now, but later. No, now was not the time for that. Right now his friend needed cheering up.
“You may be the last, but you’re not alone. You’ve got us, knuckle-head,” he said with less sass than usual. And I’ve got you guys.
That did seem to perk Knuckles up a bit. To be reminded of the friends he made whom care about him so much. Despite their repeated fights and bickering, the two of them were very close.
“I’ll admit, I do envy your lifestyle,” Knuckles continued. “Freedom to go where you want, when you want.”
It wasn’t like the echidna to say something like that. Guess being stuck in between cyberspace and the real world left him wanting more. Amy said the experience made her feel detached. And Knuckles was a hands-on guy. He did come off his island occasionally when Eggman’s schemes, or anything, got too threatening. But he never really got the chance to explore the world freely. To truly enjoy it. It made Sonic happy to hear Knuckles say that.
“So do it! Get out there and live a little.” He had tried to encourage that before, but now it felt like the offer was ready to be taken.
“Maybe I could.. but first I need to be back to normal.” Knuckles stood up and added some extra sass to his voice, along with a smug grin. “So hurry up and get me back to normal!”
“Anything to get you away from me,” Sonic barked back.
The two glared for a moment, then bursted out laughing. To anyone, it would probably seem odd. But Sonic and Knuckles have known each other long enough to read pass the insults to know what they really meant. Their playful banter becoming one of the things that made their bond so strong.
For the most part, Sonic saw himself and Knuckles as opposites. One as free as the wind, the other strong as a mountain. Sonic lived by his own feelings; Knuckles was full of a sense of duty. It seemed amazing that the two became friends, but opposites attract, I guess.
Sonic was not one to believe in fate, but he did feel that maybe the two of them were brought together for a reason. Their cultures’ actions impacted their lives. The blue hedgehog realized Chaos had to have been the god that Pandora was separated from by his ancestors, back when he first saw it in Station Square. The one who used him to wipe out everyone on Christmas Island. Sonic never told Knuckles about this; he never even told Tails. How could you tell someone, no matter how close they were, about your greatest mistake? The one that costed the lives of thousands.
Sonic pushed those feelings and memories back down, focusing on what was happening right now. A peaceful moment with his dear friend.
Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to tell you the truth, Knux. But for now, I’m glad to have you by my side. As a rival, and one of the best friends I could ever ask for.
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The Ancients
This is a Maasverse post, and as such, there are spoilers for all Maas series. Proceed with caution.
“I’m afraid I can’t be of service,” Mort sniffed. “If you want an instant answer, you should find yourself a seer or an oracle.”
Celaena slowed her pacing. “You think if I read this to someone with the gift of clairvoyance, they might be able to … see some different meaning that I’m missing?”
“Perhaps. Though as far as I know, when magic vanished, those with the gift of Sight lost it, too.”
“Yes, but you’re still here.”
“So?” Celaena looked at the stone ceiling as if she could see through it, all the way to the ground above.
“So perhaps other ancient beings might retain some of their gifts, too.” (com)
In acowar, we learn that Elain is a seer and in the Maasverse, seer seems to be a broad term associated with the gift of Sight. Sarah sometimes uses seer interchangeably with oracle, as we see below.
It was a useless gift, she’d decided as a child. It couldn’t do much at all beyond blinding people, as she’d done to her father’s men when they came after her and her mother and Randall, as had happened to the Oracle when the seer peered into her future and beheld only her blazing light, as she’d done to those asp-hole smugglers. (hoeab)
An oracle appears to be a type of seer; at the very least, they have similar gifts of clairvoyance. Oracles were believed to be messengers, or conduits, for gods. We see indications of this in the scene where Hunt visits the oracle sphinx in hoeab. While we don’t know the full extent of Elain’s gifts, her abilities are referred to as oracular, and she shares parallels with both oracles and mystics in the Maasverse.
In fact, her gifts seem like they could rival the ancient beings Aelin referenced in the first quote. She tracks down Baba Yellowlegs—an Ancient—to help her unravel a mystery, and introduces us to another important method of Sight they cherish: witch mirrors.
Witch mirrors
If Yellowlegs truly was a witch, then perhaps she had the gift of Sight.
“Come to look into the mirrors?” she said, smoke spilling from her withered lips. “Done running from fate at last?” (com)
In the gloom, the caravan stretched on much wider and longer than should have been possible. A winding path had been made between the mirrors, leading into the dark—a path that Yellowlegs was now treading, as if there were anywhere to go inside this strange place.
[…]
As she strode through the forest of mirrors, her reflection shifted everywhere. In one she appeared short and fat, in another tall and impossibly thin. In another she stood upside down, and in yet another she walked sideways. It was enough to give her a headache. (com)
First, I would be remiss if I didn't point out the fact that Aelin links witches to the gift of Sight, just like in Midgard. Second, Yellowlegs’ caravan is unusual because its materials (the stones in the oven and wood in the walls) come from the ruins of the Crochan city. Combined with witch mirrors, it creates an otherworldly illusion that disorients Aelin and makes it difficult to escape Yellowlegs’ clutches.
Later, we learn from Manon that witch mirrors can be used to see, communicate, or amplify power:
“You can see the future, past, present. You can speak between mirrors, if someone possesses the sister-glass. And then there are the rare silvers—whose forging demands something vital from the maker.” Manon’s voice dropped low. Dorian wondered if even among the Blackbeaks, these tales had only been whispered at their campfires. “Other mirrors amplify and hold blasts of raw power, to be unleashed if the mirror is aimed at something.” (eos)
She and Aelin even enter a witch mirror to view a memory, and like I’ve discussed before, this experience might mimic Elain’s murky realm.
Aelin had a body that was not a body. She knew only because in this void, this foggy twilight, Manon had a body. A nearly transparent, wraithlike body, but…a form nonetheless.
Manon’s teeth and nails glinted in the dim light as she surveyed the swirling gray mists. “What is this place?” The mirror had transported them to…wherever this was.
“Your guess is as good as mine, witch.” Had time stopped beyond the mists?
[…]
The eddying fog darkened, and Manon and Aelin stepped close together, back to back. Pure night swept around them—blinding them.
Then—a murky, dim light ahead. No, not ahead. Approaching them. Manon’s bony shoulder dug into her own as they pressed tighter together, an impenetrable wall.
But the light rippled and expanded, figures within it appearing. Solidifying.
Aelin knew three things as the light and color enveloped them and became tangible: They were not seen, or heard, or scented by those before them.
And this was the past. A thousand years ago, to be exact. (eos)
@offtorivendell and I suspect there may also be witch mirrors in Prythian:
“My sister had a collection of mirrors in her black castle,” the Carver said. We halted once more. “She admired herself day and night in those mirrors, gloating over her youth and beauty. There was one mirror—the Ouroboros, she called it. It was old even when we were young. A window to the world. All could be seen, all could be told through its dark surface. Keir possesses it—an heirloom of his household. Bring it to me. That is my price. The Ouroboros, and I am yours to wield. If you can find a way to free me.” A hateful smile. (acowar)
Stryga, which is awfully close to the word for witch (striga, strega, shtriga, etc.), used her mirrors to spy on the world. It’s possible that her black castle was Hewn City, a place of rotting darkness that is home to wicked heirlooms much like her extensive collection in the cottage. Are Stryga and her magical mirrors also somehow connected to Maeve and the Valg? And if her heirlooms are also Mor’s family heirlooms, does that mean they are distantly related to Stryga and the Valg, and therefore connected to witches? Wounds associated with the Valg are described as rotted darkness (tod), making me truly wonder about the Court of Nightmares and those who inhabit and rule it now.
In tog, Maeve—a dark queen and world-walker like Stryga—confirms that mirrors can be used to spy, travel, and kill. She says she taught the witches how to use their enchanted mirrors. If Stryga is connected to the Valg, did she see her outward beauty in the mirror, or the displeasing form beneath (to use Maeve’s own words), no matter how many beautiful maidens she hunted and devoured? Could that unpleasant form look like the Valg princess we see in tog?
Its true form…It was as horrific as she’d imagined.
Smoke swirled and coiled about it, revealing glimpses of gangly limbs and talons, mostly hairless gray, slick skin, and unnaturally large dark eyes that raged as she looked upon it. [...] It hissed, revealing pointed, fish-sharp teeth. Your world shall fall. As the others have done. As all others will. (tod)
That would certainly drive someone like Stryga, who is obsessed with youth and beauty, insane. And it would make so much more sense that her true form–the rotted core of the Valg–would be capable of corrupting an enchanted mirror as scholars claim.
Save for the Weaver in the Wood—who certainly seemed insane enough, perhaps thanks to the mirror she’d so dearly loved. Or perhaps whatever evil lurked in her had tainted the mirror, too. Some of the philosophers had suggested as much, though they hadn’t known her name—only that a dark queen had once possessed it, cherished it. Spied on the world with it—and used it to hunt down beautiful young maidens to keep her eternally young. (acowar)
Much like Baba Yellowlegs, Stryga had a habit of devouring beautiful maidens and, once confined to the Middle, lured unsuspecting beings to her cottage. @offtorivendell has wondered if the Ouroboros will make a reappearance and if so, it might make the most sense in Elain’s story. It is interesting that Clotho helped Feyre find books on the Ouroboros and is the last known person in possession of Elain’s glass amulet. I do think this amulet could be connected to witch mirrors, even if only as a symbolic hint of things to come. The phrase secret, lovely beauty is repeated, suggesting a link—or sister-glass, if you will—between two females with hidden depths (more on this in The sense chanted and Groundings).
The Ancients
In addition to sharing information about witch mirrors, Manon confirms that some witches—like Baba Yellowlegs—have the gift of Sight.
Aelin murmured, “Nameless is my price.” Aedion opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what had snagged her interest, but Aelin frowned at Manon. “Can your kind see the future? See it as an oracle can?”
“Some,” Manon admitted. “The Bluebloods claim to.”
“Can other Clans?”
“They say that for the Ancients, past and present and future bleed together.” (eos)
The Blackbeak and Blueblood Matrons are also referred to as Ancients. Together, the Matrons represent the Three-Faced Goddess: Crone (Yellowlegs), Mother (Blackbeak), and Maiden (Blueblood). This goddess supposedly gave the witches their iron teeth and nails to keep them anchored to this world when magic threatened to pull them away.
Legend had it that all witches had been gifted by the Three-Faced Goddess with iron teeth and nails to keep them anchored to this world when magic threatened to pull them away. The iron crown, supposedly, was proof that the magic in the Blueblood line ran so strong that their leader needed more—needed iron and pain—to keep her tethered in this realm.
Nonsense. Especially when magic had been gone these past ten years. But Manon had heard rumors of the rituals the Bluebloods did in their forests and caves, rituals in which pain was the gateway to magic, to opening their senses. Oracles, mystics, zealots. (hof)
Nesta and Elain—who were Made in the Cauldron (which may be connected to the Three-Faced Goddess, as one of them is called Mother)—have iron mental gates. They also both wore iron bracelets and Elain has an iron engagement ring somewhere in her trove of jewelry. Elain, the obvious choice for the Maiden aspect, also wore a blue cloak during the witch accusation in Windhaven and seems to possess the most powerful Sight. Is it possible that time bleeds together in her murky realm like it does for the Ancients, and she might need even more iron, or something else, to remain tethered to Prythian?
“An Ancient,” Dorian mused, then murmured to Manon, “Baba Yellowlegs.”
They all turned to him. But Manon’s fingers brushed against her collarbone—where the necklace of Aelin’s scars from Yellowlegs still ringed her neck in stark white.
“This winter, she was at your castle,” Manon said to him. “Working as a fortune-teller.”
Manon stared the general down. “Yellowlegs was a fortune-teller—a powerful oracle. I bet she knew who the queen was the moment she saw her. And saw things she planned to sell to the highest bidder.” Dorian tried not to flinch at the memory. Aelin had butchered Yellowlegs when she’d threatened to sell his secrets. Aelin had never implied a threat against her own. Manon continued, “Yellowlegs wouldn’t have told the queen anything outright, only in veiled terms. So it’d drive the girl mad when she figured it out.” (eos)
Does Elain also know a person’s secrets on sight like Baba Yellowlegs? Is that why she was the only one who suspected Feyre’s pregnancy, and why she hasn’t yet met a character with a secret beneath her pretty face?
A Cauldron-blessed seer, could she even be the Eye of the Goddess incarnate, a divine guardian, as I suggested in Herbs she planted?
A large circle—and two overlapping circles, one atop the other, within its circumference. “That is the Three-Faced Goddess,” Manon said, her voice low. “We call this …” She drew a rough line in the centermost circle, in the eye-shaped space where they overlapped. “The Eye of the Goddess. Not Elena.” She circled the exterior again. “Crone,” she said of the outermost circumference. She circled the interior top circle: “Mother.” She circled the bottom: “Maiden.” She stabbed the eye inside: “And the heart of the Darkness within her.” It was Aelin’s turn to shake her head. The others didn’t so much as blink.
“That is an Ironteeth symbol. Blueblood prophets have it tattooed over their hearts. And those who won valor in battle, when we lived in the Wastes … they were once given those. To mark our glory—our being Goddess-blessed." (eos)
What if, like a Blueblood prophet, Elain is given a bargain tattoo of the Eye of the Goddess on her heart? (Please, Sarah.) Or perhaps its floral equivalent in Prythian: a layered rose that blooms with three colors when exposed to light, revealing the heart of Darkness within? A mark of the Goddess…
The Cauldron shattered into three pieces, peeling apart like a blossoming flower—and then she came. […] I dared a step toward it. And what I beheld in those ruins of the Cauldron … It was a void. But also not a void—a growth. (acowar)
to complement the eye of the beast in her love interest’s siphon?
I watched the light shift inside the sapphire Siphon instead, as if it were the great eye of some half-slumbering beast from a frozen wasteland. (acomaf)
or her mate’s magical eye?
“This eye …” Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. “It can see things that others…can’t. Spells, glamours … Perhaps it can help me find her. And break her curse.” (acowar)
Only Time, or the wind, will tell what form the future might take.
Next: Song of the wind, or how Elain might travel like a witch.
Series: seer. wise woman. witch.
#witch elain#witchy elain#the ancients#witch mirrors#three-faced goddess#past present future#the eye of the goddess#crone mother maiden#witchy archeron sisters#acotar witches#tog witches#crescent city witches#maasverse witches#elain archeron
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Hi guys, this is my first post and it will be a bit long, but I ask you IF YOU ARE A PATRIVAN FAN PLEASE READ IT! (I’m writing in English because I think it’s the most known language in other countries too, I know for example that many of the fandom are in Brazil and Spain! I hope I am as good as possible because it’s not my native language, I’m Italian)
I’ve been feeling broken ever since I finished watching the season (one of the most important people in my life had a similar personal experience to both Patrick and Ivan, and seeing her being sick and reliving that moment destroyed me) and while we were talking about it, an idea came to us. My friend is very realistic, so she thinks it's crazy, I agree with that but I'm also a dreamer who believes a lot in positive energy, so I'll try to tell you our idea!
Why don't we try to make our voices heard? I think that we absolutely cannot accept such an ending! We Patrivan fans are so many, if we unite we could really make a difference! Besides, the precedents are there: we got a last season of Manifest, we got a worthy ending for Lucifer, we got Gallavich! GALLAVICH WEDDING!
The only social media we can focus on is Twitter, because it’s the most media relevant. Going trend is not difficult, the problem is that to do it we need to be many and coordinated... I was thinking we could organize a group (on telegram? Discord?...) and try to go viral!
I said I'm a dreamer, but I know perfectly well that we are unlikely to get the endgame WE DESERVE, more so because of Carlos, whose only purpose in his career seems to be to ruin every good thing he creates (the most relevant examples? Omander, Samu and Carla, Guzman and Nadia, Rebe made to disappear into a black hole...). But we have nothing to lose! Also, Manu and Andre said that they follow the couple on social media, going on trend would be a gift for them too, a thank you for all the good things they have given us with their prowess!
As said, it is an idea! If there is anyone who would like to participate, or maybe better at social than me who knows how to get more people to participate please write to me! Even in private!
#patrivan#elite netflix#manu rios#andré lamoglia#patrick blanco#ivan carvalho#patrick x ivan#eliteedit#patrivanedit#elite spoilers#elite s6#lgbtedit#gallavich
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REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!
Books I’ve read so far in 2022!
Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!
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235. Answers in the Pages by David Levithan--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
I was intrigued by this book because of that first page--especially since we live in a society where so many books are being challenged by parents. The fact that a parent took a paragraph so incredibly out of context and made it the martyr for her fight against what is "safe for children to read" is the perfect example of someone put their opinions on something that could be innocent in nature. I also liked how Levithan wrote a warning at the beginning of the book because he knew that that text would be twisted into the cookie cutter version of "problematic" that the MC's mother wanted it to be.
I will say, however, that the constantly shifting POVs were a little bit of an overkill. I understand why they existed, but at times it felt like it was a little too much and took me a bit out of the story. In the end, I understand why it was necessary. I just found it to kind of ruin the flow of the story a little (and I know these chapters also serve as a way of making the already thin book a little bit thicker.)
I do recommend this book to kids who are thinking of coming out to parents, who are struggling with their own identities, or have simply witnessed an adult trying to censor a book they are reading and/or have read. I think it's important to have these conversations because it can open the world to a bunch of "why's" that some kinds might truly need.
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236. I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Listen, before you read this book, I would heavily suggest looking at trigger warnings if you have specific triggers you try to avoid. This book was a ROUGH read. It was fantastic, but it was rough.
Jennette McCurdy is someone that I knew of in passing because the tv shows she was in weren't really on my radar since I was already older when they were coming out. But after reading this book, I'm left wondering if I would have looked at her during her busiest parts of her acting career and wondered what her life was like.
One of the saddest things about this book, other than the obvious, is how this story is not 100% unique to her experience--there are so many kids who live with abusive parents who profit off their acting abilities. So many adults in Hollywood were raised with parents like hers and knowing this, some of them breaking down makes a lot more sense.
What happens when your complicated relationship with your mother leaves you numb to the abuse, but also fearful of not making her happy? The candid way that McCurdy writes makes this question jump off the pages as she continuously tells us each horrible thing her mother did to her, but also every moment where she just wanted to please her.
I was listening to the audiobook and there is a moment where McCurdy (who is the voice of her audiobook) starts to fight back tears. It was such a jarring experience because she read the majority of her book in a kind of monotone way--like a person who is distancing herself from the experiences she wishes to not associate with anymore, or experiences that one is trying to heal from.
With all of that being said, trust me when I say that the title is extremely justified. I can't even imagine the mixture of grief and relief she felt after her mother passed away. I highly recommend this one, but again, please handle with care. This is EXTREMELY triggering.
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237. The Haunted Bridge by Carolyn Keene & Mildred Benson (Ghostwriter)--⭐️⭐️⭐️
I haven't read a Nancy Drew book in a very long time, but the books I own in the series have been giving me the stink eye for a while, so I finally picked one up. (Thank you to those who helped pick this one over on my Instagram).
This was a fun mystery! I do love how Nancy never lets the spooky fully scare her off a mystery--especially when one or both of her best friends try to remind her that the situation is, in fact, terrifying.
There were some points that were a little bit unbelievable and convoluted, but it was a fun ride nonetheless. Also, props to Nancy for having such a great moral compass. I can see why she would be such a great role model for so many young readers!
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238. Love On the Brain by Ali Hazelwood--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
Unpopular opinion (maybe?), but I enjoyed this a hell of a lot more than THE LOVE HYPOTHESIS.
It was so much fun and full of so many cute, funny, and sexy moments. Also, hello, the feminism? Bad ass. The STEM? Awesome. I loved the relationship between the MC and her twin sister. I loved how her voice would change when faced with a cat.
I loved the love interest and his awkward way of getting all flustered around her. I also low-key loved the misunderstanding between them when they see each other again. They just worked so well together (even though she was one of those women who don't know how beautiful they truly are.
The end surprised me, but I should have figured it out but I was too distracted by the blossoming love between the characters.
This is a standalone, by the way, so I highly encourage you to enjoy this book even if you haven't read The Love Hypothesis or any of the STEM novellas!
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239. The Pool Boy by Nikki Sloane--⭐️⭐️
I won't lie--the age gap got me when I first came across this book. I was intrigued by it and thought it would be the perfect summer read. But I took it with me to Cuba for my two week vacation and...didn't even finish it then (I finished it a month later and by listening to an audiobook.)
This book, while it had some very spicy moments, was...boring. I was bored at times and I think that's why I never found myself fully invested? The storyline was kind of meh and there were instances where other storylines could have been introduced but in the end, those moments felt kind of pointless?
This was just meh and I'm kind of disappointed because I expected more. I do want to read the first book in this series some day, but now I'm a LITTLE wary.
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240. Hello Forever by Sarina Bowen--⭐️⭐️⭐️
While I enjoyed book one more (it’s one of my favourite romances), this was still enjoyable in that “I need to pass the time with some spice.”
I think, much like the first book, this dealt with some pretty intense homophobia and I’ll say that you should check for trigger warnings before you read this.
This was a quick read and it being a bit quicker than the last book made it so that the build up of the relationship was a little less powerful than the first book. I would have liked it to be a little longer so it didn’t feel as rushed.
I’d definitely recommend this duology—especially book one!
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Have you read any of these? Would you recommend them?
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Happy reading!
#books#bookish#booklr#bookworm#bookaholic#bibliophile#book blog#book blogger#book reviews#book review#review#reviews#reviews of the week#my writing#my opinion#long text post#book list#Features
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Thanks for your patience! 💞☺️
Nineteen: Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?
This is a little long 💗
I was making up stories before I even knew how to write. I was very lucky to have a mom that would play dolls with me and she would say each morning, “What’s her name today? Where does she work? What does she do for fun?” I’m so so lucky.
My mom is also a writer! She writes children’s books and they’ve always had animal characters present, so I’m sure I use all my animal symbolism because of that. She and I also have a sort of book club for fanfictions! We’ll read a story at the same time and compare notes over coffee. She enjoys Hunger Games AUs the most.
My mother’s family is small but full of incredible storytellers. My uncle that passed, he would turn his voice and use sweeping gestures and it was such a beautiful thing. He was absolutely lyrical. He could make grim situations humorous and even a little beautiful. He loved the storytelling in music and played the guitar. I have his guitar, cannot play it worth anything, but if I’m overwhelmed I can easily remember him saying, “Just get somewhere alone and listen to your records.” So stories are generationally important to me.
I can’t remember why exactly I started writing fanfiction around age twelve but I do know what was going on in my life at the time, so I’m sure I needed escapism profusely. I’ve mentioned before I wrote some Alvin and the Chipmunks at the time lmao but I also did Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It was a balm.
I wrote fanfiction for other media like young adult books until I was I think sixteen? Well, I stopped publishing them. I continued writing them but I kept telling myself I wasn’t ready to publish whatever came next? It was weird. I just kept building the story until years had passed and I guess I let intimidation get the best of me.
Then around age twenty I started writing for Free! and I don’t remember my mindset on why I decided to publish - I’m not sure what changed in my mind - but again, I needed some serious escapism. EWOATT is exaggerated but there’s a baseline of personal experiences I had never spoken about and I needed the release. I was hurting and had exhausted all other efforts to cope. It turned out better than I ever could have imagined.
I continued writing for years up until about nine months ago. Haven’t published anything since. I was in my last year of undergrad and I’m sure people are used to me taking breaks, but this is the longest stretch since I was twenty. I’m twenty-seven now. I miss sharing stories like it was a home and I am getting back into it. 💗
I do anticipate that it will be interesting for me to see how I’ve changed. My writing style is different but in a way I definitely like! Comeback incoming wooo~
Thirty-Seven: If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?
“SHIT THIS GIRL WAS SO SAD” lmao no I’m not sure. I can say that if I got to choose what words I was remembered by, I’d want it to be the Asahi quote from EWOATT: “You can’t forget, okay? That there’s good in the world.”
I also like “I’d beg him to ruin my life” (Sousuke about Rin in DOAB) / “Your hands are my hands” (Makoto to Haruka in THOM)
Thank you for asking~! 🍄🍓
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Creator Spotlight: Week 2
Welcome to week 2 of TWW fandom creator spotlights! For every spotlight, we’ll ask each featured creator ten questions as well as questions submitted by you. This week, we’re chatting with aleena (@claudiasjeans // claudiasjeancregg on ao3!
All answers are directly from Aleena. Let’s give her a big round of applause and a lot of love for being our first featured creator! Questions under the cut:
1) What are your top 5 desert island fics by other authors?
the age of aquarius by speranza https://archiveofourown.org/works/173
This is, in my opinion, the classic J/D fic. If you haven’t read it, please go read it.
the obliterated place by thiswildernessismyhome https://archiveofourown.org/works/783426
I love this fic, CJ/Andy is my entire world and I’ve never seen them done as well as in this fic.
aftershock by greatestheights https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786607 or a stoic mind and a bleeding heart by greatestheights https://archiveofourown.org/works/3507155
Honestly, everything this author writes is my favorite fic. These two are especially gorgeous, and the characterization is just incredible.
for you i would ruin myself a million little times by crossingdelancey https://archiveofourown.org/works/35076877 or through the long night with you by crossingdelancey https://archiveofourown.org/works/32866225
Kate is my favorite CJ/Toby author and it was honestly impossible to pick two of her fics. These two are everything to me, I honestly reread one or the other every week.
love is the only thing by mikaylawrites https://archiveofourown.org/works/38785698
This is a recent favorite, I read it on a plane and cried in what is probably my most embarrassing fic reading experience to date. Mikayla is a marvel, and I love all of the characterization and interactions in this fic.
2) Do you have a favorite character to write? Favorite ship(s) to write? Are there characters or ships you'd like to write more of?
My favorite ship to write is absolutely CJ/Toby, but the fact that I’ve only written one J/D fic is a crime because I really do love them so much. I need to write more for them this year, that’s my personal goal. As for characters, I probably write CJ the most so it’s fairly obvious she’s my favorite. Josh and Donna are very, very fun to write, though, because their voices are so distinct and clear in my head. I need to start writing more characters into my fics— I especially love writing Andy and Charlie.
3) Tell us about your writing process (setup/location? Night or day? Snacks/beverages? Computer/phone/notebook? Music or silence? Anything else you want to share is welcome!)
My writing process varies depending on my inspiration levels, like if it’s an idea I can’t get out of my head, I’ll write the first couple hundred words on my phone and switch to my computer later. I write on my phone often but honestly, writing on my computer is infinitely better. I usually end up writing at night because that’s usually when I have time, and I love listening to music but I find that I usually forget to put it on and then can’t bring myself to make any changes once I’ve started writing.
4) What writing advice do you have for others who may be reading this?
Honestly, just write bad fics. I still consider myself a very new writer, so I don't know how qualified I am to give advice, but I think writing should be fun, not a source of anxiety. Don't expect everything you write to be good, especially when you start. Half of what I write is never going to be seen by anyone but myself, and that’s perfectly okay. Also, have a doc that functions as scrap paper, almost. It’s pretty much exactly what it sounds— when you have an idea or a line you can’t get out of your head, write it there and you’re way more likely to use it later. Someone gave me that advice last year and it’s honestly made me write so much more.
5) From where do you usually draw your inspiration? (Other forms of media, music, tropes, etc?)
I draw my inspiration from you guys, honestly. Everyone in this fandom has a million good ideas a day, and that’s probably what inspires me the most frequently. I’m definitely inspired by movies and other media as well, especially for AU ideas.
6) What is the fic you've written that you're most proud of and why?
I’m most proud of engraved upon my heart (in letters deeply worn) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139615 or shout if you want my heart (it’s an open invitation) https://archiveofourown.org/works/34041280 because the first is my only J/D fic to date and it’s just so cute. They’re so adorable and perfect, and it always makes me happy to reread that fic. The second fic was a CJ/Toby prompt fill, I wrote it so fast after not writing for months and I’m just proud of the writing in that one.
7) What's the fic trope/concept/AU you'd read 1000 of? What's the fic trope/concept/AU you'd write 1000 of?
Oh, this is hard. Off the top of my head, I’d read 1000 post-canon AUs of either J/D or CJ/Toby. I’d also write 1000 of those, if I’m being perfectly honest. Also, I’d write thousands of canon divergence AUs— the fact that I have two separate AUs that involve CJ getting shot during TWW canon says something about me and I don't know if it’s good.
8) Is there anything you'd like to try writing-wise that you haven't yet?
There’s so, so much! I want to try writing more J/D, I want to write more ensemble found family dynamics, I want to actually finish and post a fic above 15k words (my royalty AU is double that, but it doesn’t count because my brain will not let me finish it.) I also really want to write an Outsider POV fic because I think the show lends itself so well to that.
9) What's your go-to Starbucks/coffee shop/other drink order?
I’m not a big coffee person so I usually end up getting the Double Chocolate Chip Frappuccino or the Mango Dragonfruit Refresher.
10) Do you have any current projects you'd like to promote or anything upcoming you'd like to tell us about?
I’m currently working on my August BBOC fic, hopefully teasing it here will force me to finish it in the three days I have left. Also, perpetually announcing the royalty au I’ve been writing for years that I have made little to no progress on recently. It's my pride and joy, finally passed 30k, and I really need to finish it.
Submitted questions:
From @sam_writes_fics: if you could write a fic for one ship you’ve never written for before, which pairing would it be?
It would either be Zoey/Charlie, because they are just my favorites ever and have so much potential, or Jed/Leo/Abbey because they are my entire life.
From @mlea7675: What drew you to CJ/Toby in particular?
I love this question so much, even though I have no way to answer it. I would probably say their palpable chemistry, and the way they are intrinsically drawn to each other in every scene. They’re each other’s person, which makes their love so interesting and complicated.
From @jessbakescakes: Which fic of yours did you have the most fun writing?
Ooh, probably my J/D post-canon AU, engraved upon my heart (in letters deeply worn) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139615. I loved figuring out where every character would be years after the show ended, thinking about their kid’s names, and coming up with ideas for other fics revolving around Seaborn for America.
From @S4MWILSON: what draws u to ur fave ships ? any upcoming work ur excited about ? craziest au you've imagined ? which fic of yours are you most proud of ? fave tww rarepair ? fave things about the show / the fandom ? are there any tropes or motifs that u like to use when writing ?
These questions are so good! The craziest AU I’ve imagined is probably the Much Ado About Nothing AU I dream about writing because like. It makes no sense but it is everything to me. My favorite TWW rarepair is Mallory/Ellie, my queer political daughter OTP. I have so many thoughts about them, it’s insane. My favorite things about the show are the found family aspect, the complexities of every character, and literally everything else. I love this fandom because everyone is supportive, kind, and so talented. I’m so happy to know all of you.
Thanks again, Aleena!
If you’re interested in being featured for a future spotlight, please drop us a line here on tumblr, on twitter, or email [email protected].
xx,
What’s next?
#the west wing#tww#tww fandom#west wing#tww fic#tww author#author spotlight#creator spotlight#josh x donna#josh lyman#donna moss#cj x toby#cj cregg#toby ziegler#ellie bartlet#jed bartlet#abbey bartlet#tww fic recs
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Who else would you like to be shared with if we included Tony in this scenario? :>
Oooohhhh, nonnie. I had to have a little think about this. There’s the dynamics at play if I choose Steve, which could be very fun. Cause there’s that push and pull going on between them. Or I’ve read some really great fics that had Tony and Pepper with a third.
But I gotta say, my first thought of who I would want with Tony has kinda stuck to me.
I mean imagine them. 😫 Both of them with their experience, knowing exactly what to do to ruin you forever. Natasha dominating you both with her voice. Tony following along because he loves to see you melt. I can’t. It’s just so good.
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FFXIV Write Day 25
At a study desk deep in the stacks of the Noumenon, you’ve been working diligently on an analysis of memoir in the colony of New Sharlayan for your literature class. Of course, what was once known as New Sharlayan is now that experimental adventurer-goblin-treasure hunting haven known as Idyllshire, and much of the original infrastructure stands in ruins.
Idyllshire was your first introduction to Sharlayan culture, actually. Once the war had ended and travel through Dravania became possible for Ishgardians, you made some deliveries to the House of Splendors out there as part of your duties as a Skysteel apprentice. Sharlayan’s touch was apparent everywhere, even with very few Sharlayans in residence. You were taken by the white and blue aesthetic, the grace of the buildings, the clear durability of the roads. Riding through the Hinterlands, you beheld the wonders of the old arboretum and the great library, and you couldn’t help but fantasize about the place and people who cared so much about knowledge that they built these great edifices for research and reference.
You chose memoir of New Sharlayan as your research paper topic because you were personally curious about those people who built the Great Gubal Library, who performed experiments in Saint Mocianne’s arboretum. New Sharlayan was an active colony for over two centuries, so you’re trying to find works representative of different stages of its development. It’s slow-going, since some records were lost and Sharlayan literature is different enough from similar traditions coming out of Eorzea that you have trouble understanding the cultural references. You’ve found some works that you really love though. The cultural context may be different, but people are people, and you find that you connect to the hopes of those long-dead, and you weep for the fact that much of what they built was ultimately destroyed upon the Exodus.
You allow tears to freely roll down your face while you read a story about a Sharlayan sage learning and growing alongside her faithful chocobo. Chocobos were introduced to Sharlayan society by Ishgardians and the people of Tailfeather. You think you’ll have to include this book in your literary survey. Just as you’re finishing up the final chapter and sniffling through your attempts to make notes, you are startled by a voice behind you.
“Hmm, are you alright?” You look up and see a familiar face. It’s Aliphine, the Elezen who is your usual peer review partner in literature class. They look concerned, and fish a handkerchief out of their robes, handing it over to you. You take hold of it and gently dab at your eyes, nodding, trying to convince them and yourself that you are, indeed, alright. “...We had plans to meet at the reference desk at the sixth bell?” Your eyes widen in shock. Sixth bell…that was at least half an hour ago. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment and you start to cry some more.
“I’m…so sorry…” you manage to say, looking intently at your notes as you try to regain your composure.
Aliphine pulls up a chair from a neighboring desk and sits down next to you. “It’s quite alright, I assumed you had gotten immersed in your studies and thus I set out to find you among the stacks. It’s a very Sharlayan thing to do, you know? Forgetting the time when one is so taken by their research.” They look over at your stacks of books and notes. “You’re working on a paper about New Sharlayan, correct?” You look up and they are smiling. Their brown eyes are almost red in this light, and their long blonde hair shines. You nod. “You’re from Ishgard, right?” You nod again. “So have you visited the ruins out there, the new town of Idyllshire?” You nod, smiling as well. “I’ve never been, myself. I’ve always wanted to go but with my mother on the forum and my brother always out adventuring…well, I haven’t gotten to travel much.” They reach across the desk with large, graceful hands and pick up one of the books you’d been reading.
“It’s…very beautiful there. After the war, I was sent to make deliveries to the House of Splendors. The ruins of New Sharlayan are actually what inspired me to apply to the Studium in the first place.”
Aliphine puts the book down and smiles right at you. “So, what do you think?”
“About what?”
“About us, now that you’re here.”
You shake your head, unsure how to respond. You find Sharlayan culture confusing, the Studium workload relentless, and the food terrible. You’re not even sure you’ve learned anything of particular value to bring back home yet, though your marks in Astronomy and Literature are at least improving. You like Aliphine, though, along with a few other people you’ve met here. “It’s, um…” you trail off, unable to formulate a reply.
“Ah, well. You’ll have to tell me what you really think sometime. I won’t be offended, I promise.” Their eyes sparkle as they crinkle their nose somewhat inscrutably, you think maybe it’s some combination of amusement and concern (?). You dab at your eyes a little bit more and rest your head in your hands, elbows propped up on the desk. You suddenly feel exhausted, and realize you’ve been reading for hours at this point. Aliphine stands up, adjusting their mage’s robes. They’re so tall. “Let’s call it a day, hmm? You look tired.” You nod, and start sorting your books–some will return to the circulation desk, some you’ll check out.
Aliphine helps you pack up, carrying the books you don’t need back to the circulation desk as you check out the ones you’ll be using in your project. They then walk you back to your dorm, chatting with you pleasantly. You don’t say much, but are intensely thankful for their help. Before you part (they of course live with their mother over in the Journey’s End neighborhood), they take hold of your shoulder and give it a friendly squeeze. “Take care of yourself, ok?” You nod, and they turn to leave, long robes and hair fluttering gracefully in the twilight.
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Ok I have been reading your blog for awhile and you absolutely have every right to defend yourself and show these girls true colors. You do you and if people don’t like it then you don’t have to read it. It’s your life and story to tell. Everyone knows that these girls and their friends are toxic and want to keep adding fuel to the fire. You were sent and given information that you have every right to share. It is up to you to post it or not. I love to read some of the tea that is being said. I fell like C wanted her 15 minutes of fame and she got that. Bad part is that she had to almost ruin someone’s life in order to do that. I’m sorry for all the crap you have gone through because of their actions. C is old news and needs to shoo fly shoo. If that is her motive to get back at someone, especially her ex situation, then she needs to grow up fast. She may be 30 or near 30, who knows, but acts like a hurt teenager. Causing drama and making fans uncomfortable. Yes C we know you have a voice and you have every right to express your experience, but I’m sorry keep it behind closed doors. It’s between you and him and leave it at that right? People are always going to be curious and let them I think. C made this public and if any person feels comfortable talking to someone else who may have some insight on the situation then we want their opinion. Trust me I love yours because they are honest and to the point. I know I wouldn’t have the guts to take these girls on and I am proud that you are and you’re standing your ground! You’re a fighter girl keep fighting. Don’t stop being you! As for the other girls learn that actions have consequences and you are going to get your just desserts someway and somehow. Just remember that just because you are friends with someone doesn’t mean they have your back. It’s like the saying goes keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Hope this brings some joy to your day.
And I agree that she has every right to express her experience, and I have stated it so many times. But there’s no need to do it again 3 years later when no one was every talk about her. No one really even knew about her. And the way she did it… that was what is the main issue and always has been.
I also don’t expect or want any sympathy from anyone. I truly don’t. I have also stated this before that I made my bed when I chose to dig into it and speak upon it. I never claimed to be innocent from that. But again, how far she goes isn’t okay. That group just digs and pushed and spins everything. We have ALL seen it happen. And that’s why I keep speaking on it with screenshots to just about everything said. They say one thing and then something different or they’ll be hypocritical about things or they will take something said and then spin it to something different. And people who don’t see the other side just take her word for it. That’s why I come with screenshots to just about everything. I also don’t sit here and delete tweets or posts because I’m not hiding what I’ve said. I say it with my damn chest. They say shit then delete and hide and go private when they get called out on it. Rather than accepting that hey… maybe you’re actually fucking wrong.
But they don’t want to realize that they are the problem. I can at least admit to shit. I chose to speak on it. Did I have to? Nope. So that’s why I’m not bothered that people dislike or disagree with the blog or the way I went about it. The only people I’m bothered with are the mean girls who feel they need drag my name with a twisted version of things or a complete utter lie.
I do appreciate the people who come to me and say they don’t agree with how I’ve done this but also don’t wish Ill on me and don’t drag my name with false bullshit. I’m not bitter with people who dislike or disagree, everyone has a right to their opinions. I just won’t stand for the assholes.
I also greatly appreciate people who leave messages like this 🖤
So thank you 👑
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{Harry in sparkly black….Harry lemme **** *** *** for free}
You hadn’t talked to Harry all day. Not that you were mad at him or anything but your therapy this morning left you feeling a little spacey. There was something about talking about your emotions that left you feeling emotionally drained.
You missed Harry terribly and though it’s only been a short week, you felt very lonely. But on another note, your anxiety wasn’t as bad as it was. You were starting to feel like your normal self again but missing something.
You loved the tight knit life you have with Harry. You like being around him most hours of the day. You two were inseparable. If you were in the shower, he was in the bathroom reading a book from the lounger chair in the corner. If he was writing music on the beach, you were somewhere on the shore collecting shells. If you were going to the grocery store the least he could do was go for the drive with you. You two were close and it was something the both of you were ok with.
Some couples don’t like being so close but it worked for you and Harry. Being away from Harry was a weird experience. It’s only been a week but you feel like it’s been a lifetime. You haven’t minded being on your own but you wanted to be with the person you felt most connected to.
So being you, you purchased a ticket to Chicago. You didn’t know how Harry was going to react but you could only assume it would be a positive reaction. You told Jeff that you were coming so he could get you a hotel key and backstage pass.
As you sat in the airport you felt your back pocket buzz- your music pausing for the call. Your hand slipped into the pocket roughly pulling out the small phone. Harry’s icon, him in a fluffy robe looking as grumpy as ever, met your eyes. You cursed because you were quite obviously in the airport and if he saw you, the surprise would be ruined.
You answered anyways but only for audio. You made sure that your airpods were snug in you ear and there was no chance of them falling out.
“My lover!” Harry greets you a in sing song voice. You could hear his humph as he recognizes that you didn’t answer with the FaceTime video on. “Turn your camera on.”
“Can’t, I’m not feeling good.” You fib nervously. Harry frowned, nervous that he may have done something to upset you.
“Oh, alright. What’s wrong then?” He asks. You chew your lip trying to think of an answer.
“Uh, period.” You stammer.
“Your period doesn’t start for another few day…saw it on the tracker.” Harry may have your period tracker on his phone but it was because he wanted to make sure he was able to comfort you the best way he could when he needed to.
“Must be the meds-“ The sound of your boarding attendant sounded over your head cutting you off. “Hey bubs, I’ve actually got to go but we can’t chat later.”
“Sure, that’s fine I guess. Love you.” He mumbles, confused by the phone call. You hang up leaving Harry a little lost in his thoughts.
Later, Harry sang through his rehearsal carelessly, his head clouded with thoughts. He even sang through TBSL and though he was in the worst of moods, fans waiting at the venue thought he never sounded better.
You on the other hand had just sat through the worst flight of your life. There was a woman in the flight who didn’t want to wear her mask causing commotion before the flight could even take off. You had the worst headache halfway through the flight and because of the lack on supplies, the flight couldn’t give you any ginger ale or accommodations.
You didn’t let any of it get to you though as you directed for the chauffeur Jeff sent for you to go to the venue for show.
Harry sat in the common room backstage with the band and Jeff eating dinner grumpily. His fork was stabbing every little piece of lettuce of his salad, everyone watched worried that he may break his bowl.
“HS3 is trending on Twitter today, pretty exciting.” Jeff says to Harry breaking the silence. Jeff just received a text from you saying that you arrived to the venue and were walking towards Harry’s dressing room.
“Mmm great.” Harry grumbles. Jeff rolled his eyes at the diva.
“Someone’s a little pissy this evening. How about you go fix that mood before you greet your fans with a bad attitude.” Jeff scolds him like a child who just got caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Jeff really didn’t care about Harry’s attitude, used to the moods at this point, but he needed a way for Harry to leave the room and see you in the dressing room.
“Fine, didn’t want to be around anyways.” Harry shrugs.
Back in Harry’s dressing room, you rolled your suitcase into a corner where Harry’s outfit for the night resided on a hanger. You smiled at the sparkly black top that you helped pick out. You walked around his dressing room from the hair and makeup table, past the bathroom/ dressing area, and back around to the couch’s and coffee table where you took a seat. You snagged one of his green juices needing the boost of energy from being on the flight.
You heard the door knob jiggle but stayed planted in you seat sipping on the juice. You never made a peep as Harry barged through the room, scowl covering his face. He stormed past the couch not batting an eye at you. He went to the mini fridge where his juices were before letting an exasperated sigh.
“Who fucking took my juice?” He whines. You quietly giggle in your hand at his tone.
“Im sorry, thought I could have it.” You chuckle. Harry leaps from where he stands letting out a yell. He turns to look at you with wide eyes, hand over his chest as if his heart was going to explode from his chest. You stood from the couch waiting for him to react more but he just stood there in shock. When the realization of you actually being there kicked in he let out another yell before bounding over to you.
Before you knew it, you had two strong arms wrapped tightly around you. Your wrapped around his neck, hands and fingers spread through his hair. His face tucked into your lower neck peppering desperate kisses all over just to feel something.
“What are you doing here?” You hear him cry. You pulled away from him to wipe his eyes of the tears that streamed down his face.
“I needed to see you.” Was all you could muster. He pulled you down on the couch, your body cushioning his larger frame. He laid in between your legs, your back flat in the body of the couch.
“Im so happy your here.” Harry couldn’t even put his excitement into words. He knew you were coming in a week but to have you here earlier than that made him feel things. He sat up from suffocating you into the couch, allowing for you to sit up beside him. “What about your therapy? I hope you’re not jeopardizing your mental health to be here with me cause I would much prefer if you put me on the back burner and took care of yourself.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’m ok. I still will see my therapist virtually, I’ve got all new meds that are working fine, and if all goes to shit I will go back home. It’s ok bubs.” You reassure him.
He grabs your face with both hands pulling your face to his. Your lips meet with need. His lips slotting with yours, moving slowly but with rigor as if he was scared you would slip from his fingers. Your bottom lips fit between his lips leaving for him to suck on it slightly. You moaned at the feeling making Harry pull you in tighter. You sat slightly upon his lap, chest against each other tightly. Your tongues pushed at one another, lips loving in tangent.
You pulled away when you felt his lower presence awaken. He whined at the loss of contact making you giggle.
“If we go any further you’re gonna be late for your show. I’ll give you more back at the hotel, yeah?” You say lowly trying to catch your breathe. He groaned resting his forehead on yours chasing your lips with chaste kisses making you smile.
“Fine, you owe my though. This is level three apology situation that can only be resolved with these things; sloppy blowies, butt stuff, or face masks if you catch my drift.” He chastised. You let out a deep belly laugh pushing yourself away from him. You two still sit facing each other, your legs slightly on top of his.
“You’re so nasty, but I may be able to arrange one of those.” You wink making Harry let out a triumphant laugh.
“Are you staying for the show? I understand if your not.” He questions fiddling with your fingers.
“Think it would be best if I didn’t. I’m really tired and I obviously need a nap if I’m going to be up for your post show antics.” You joke giving his nose a poke. He jokingly pretends to bite your finger in retaliation.
Harry went on stage that night happier than ever. He started plotting proposals from the second he walked you to the car with your suitcase and waved goodbye to you. You went to the hotel room and “accidentally” fell asleep wearing one of your most recent purchases curled up in your tour bus blanket.
Let’s just say that Harry not so accidentally woke you up after that concert ready to love all of his adrenaline off in you.
Part 2👀
#harry styles love on tour#hslot#hslot Chicago#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fic#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#Harry Styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot
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Brothers React to the MC Looking at Them Lovingly
This is a personal experiment. This is the very first time I've written one of these with a goal in mind, "Make them fall in love all over again." It's a tall order. I hope I succeeded. 🙏 Special thanks to @a-chaotic-dumbass for picking the mood for this one!
Intro:
We all know that look. The one where one person stares at another like they just realized they're the only thing in the universe and they're in fucking awe of it. The kind of look that tells you they're utterly enthralled by that other person and just can't get enough of their presence. That look. Yeah, the brothers just got that look out of the MC.
Let's warm some cold hearts, everybody.
Lucifer
Lucifer was always beautiful. Always has been, as an angel or a demon.
A morning star is one that outshines all the rest. It stands out when the other stars have dimmed, holding onto its luster in defiance of the sun.
There couldn't be a truer title for Lucifer to have. Not the horrors of war nor the fires of Hell could tarnish his radiance in any way…
But there were moments, like right then, where the MC caught a glimpse of a different sort of Lucifer.
His brothers would often only see the uptight Lucifer, the practiced visage of perfection that he tried so hard to keep up…
But after a long day, when he thinks he's alone, he retires to his room to listen to his music and the difference is astonishing.
There's something so entrancingly calm about him… How the light of the fireplace flickers and dances across his alabaster skin to the subtle slouch of his posture. His face no longer marred by creases of stress and frustration…
And his expression is so pure… So tranquil and at peace… Beauty without effort. A shine that can't be ignored. A morning star, in the truest sense of the word…
It took awhile for Lucifer to see the MC leaning against his doorframe.
They were staring at him with the oddest look… Smiling like they were enraptured by something, but he didn't have a clue why. He was just sitting there…
So, naturally, he turned to suspicion.
"Am I really that amusing…?"
Frankly, he wasn’t prepared for the little laugh they let out in response.
"Mm? No, no... I'm just always so amazed by you, is all. I'll leave you to your music..."
Having thoroughly ruined the mood, the MC then turned to leave. But Lucifer was already upon them before they could step away, wrapping his arms around their waist and letting contented hum escape his chest.
"Going so soon…?"
Apparently he appreciated the compliment.
Mammon
He didn't have to do it.
When Belphie bumped into one of the House's vases, shattering it against the tile, he didn’t have to take the fall for it.
It wasn’t connected to him at all. He could have stayed quiet and no one would have pointed a finger at him for once.
But he did.
When Mammon set his phone down on the table, MC knew instantly that he had lied in the chat.
He was with them the entire day, he didn't have the time to accidentally break a vase. He hadn't even gone down that hallway all day...
But he said something anyway.
And he didn't even look fazed. He didn't turn towards them seeking approval nor did he look irritated that Belphie didn't speak up. He didn't curse at himself for doing something so self-sacrificing either...
When Mammon leaned back into the cushion of his couch, the MC saw something truly remarkable on his face… A smile. A small one, sure, but relaxed…
Assured in his own actions. Confident in his choice and accepting the consequences… undeserved, and likely thankless, they may be.
A genuine, serene smile…
Mammon wasn't sure what he expected to see when he turned to the MC. Probably confusion or disbelief that he, the Great Mammon, could be so selfless.
Definitely not the awed, lovestruck look he got...
"G-gah!" He panicked slightly and pressed himself back against the armrest of the couch in shock. "Wh-... What'cha lookin at me like that for??"
When the MC didn't answer after a few seconds and just kept staring, he honestly didn't know what to do. Were they broken or something??
"Oi, MC! I asked ya wh-Hey wait a minute!!"
He made a noise between a yelp and a shout when the MC leapt forward and latched their arms onto him. What had gotten into them??
"U-uh… MC? MC?? Damnit MC, answer me already!! Or at least stop squeezin so tight!!... MC!!!"
Leviathan
To anyone else, it was just Levi being Levi.
He had finished a new episode of his latest animated obsession and he had to share it with someone. Anyone would do, but the MC was always willing to lend an ear.
Something about Levi really changes when he talks about his passions… It's like he comes alive in a whole new way.
He speaks at a mile-a-minute, but that's because he's so excited the words fly from his mouth.
Some part of him is always bouncing, be it his leg or body. Sometimes even his tail will swish and curl behind him like an ecstatic puppy. And his eyes…
Citrine pools that glimmer and dilate from the exhilaration of it all. It's his little world and anyone can see he's thrilled to be sharing it.
You'd never know he was shy. You'd never think he'd look down himself. You'd never guess that he hid himself away… Why would someone so full of passion and life ever want to? Some things are just too beautiful to keep hidden...
Levi had only gotten six minutes into his latest rant before he finally registered how the MC was staring at him…
This man has seen enough shoujo to know what that look means and it shut him up sooo quick. If anyone else were in the room they would have seen a beet-red Levi desperately trying to hide his face.
"M-MC…! S-top staring at me like that…!!"
"Like what~?"
He didn't have to look at them to hear the teasing lilt in their voice.
"MC…" He peeked out from behind his fingers to see them still staring and covered himself up more vigorously. "Stoooop…!!!"
But secretly? He wished they'd never stop. His cheeks may have been red from embarrassment, but his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest to hug them itself. Hell, he'd have happily given it over to them if they'd asked…
Please just let those loving eyes be for him and him alone...
Satan
Soft isn't exactly a word anybody would use to describe Satan, least of all himself.
His anger was quick to spark, his strength was nothing to scoff at, and even his smiles were nothing but plastic for nearly all of his existence…
Nearly.
The MC learned surprisingly quick that there was one thing that could bypass all of the hidden ferocity to Satan's personality. Something that could make him melt like butter in the summer sun…
Satan had always looked a little cute when he was reading. He was easily at his most expressive when engrossed in a thrilling story or deeply intrigued by something he found between the pages of a book…
But watching Satan read about cats, as he was right then, was really something else entirely.
Maybe it was the way his emerald eyes would sparkle or the lopsided grin he just couldn't hide as he would scan the pages about the playful habits of Bengals or the relaxed nature of Ragdolls…
Maybe it was the sheer impassioned dedication he took the subject, pouring countless hours into collecting and memorizing every fact he could from their diets to coat maintenance.
Or maybe it was the sheer fact that anytime he saw a picture of kitty in-print he looked like a besotted schoolgirl drawing hearts around her crush in a teen magazine.
Really, who's to say? But to the MC, it was proof that under all that anger, there was a tender, loving center even for the smallest, softest creatures…
Satan automatically snapped his book closed when he saw MC watching him from behind a bookshelves. Caught red-handed…
He knows exactly how he looks when he's doing his research internally squealing over cat pictures so he tries to do so in private...
He was about to sputter out a defensive explanation but then he registered their face…
He'd seen that look described in stories, romance novels mostly, but he'd rarely seen it in action… and never once leveled at him with such intensity…
Not to be cliche, but frankly his heart skipped a beat.
Satan forgot about his book briefly and got up to close the distance between them, tilting their chin up to keep their eyes on him.
"Like something that you see, Kitten?"
"You could say that…"
He laughed at their attempt to play coy, but let it slide just this once… Easy to do with them looking at him so amorously.
Asmodeus
Asmo is a very popular demon. Someone so free ought to know quite a lot of people, after all.
And, of course, he had plenty of fans. He made DevilTube videos, hosted radio shows, fashion designed, and even modeled.
So it wasn't very surprising when a young demoness stopped him while he and the MC were out shopping. It wasn’t the first time he had been asked to sign autographs, but this meeting… it was different.
It was clear to them both that this girl was shy. Though she held out the paper, her eyes stayed firmly on the ground and she stumbled on her question… She likely a fan from afar, but everything about her seemed meek… unassuming.
Most people would have just gave the autograph then went on with their day. The interaction could have taken five seconds at most… but not Asmo.
He asked her name… where she was from, how she was feeling, her favorite foods, outfits, makeup, you name it. All with investment.
It was amazing to watch the shy young woman slowly open up, getting more bright and cheerful with each passing question until it evolved into a healthy conversation.
When their little meeting finally wrapped up, he gave her back the paper (now signed) but also fished out a bottle of perfume from among the mountains of bags he was carrying. He gave it to her and wouldn't hear anything to the contrary, he could always buy another.
None of his brothers ever gave Asmo enough credit for his giving nature… even if he had his own way of going about it. Though he cared so much about image and his ability to shine, he never hesitated to make sure that the people around him shined too...
Asmo waved to the fan as she scampered away and was about to apologize to the MC when he saw their face…
The man knows this look well. He's seen it a billion times, though it was particularly cute coming from them.
"Awww MC! Taken by my beauty are you~?"
He was about ready to kiss their cheek when they responded.
"No, not your looks, Asmo… with you."
… Oh.
It was very rare to see Asmo speechless, but for a few seconds his mind seemed to take in their words… letting them fully sink in before his heart utterly melting.
Oh MC… His sweet MC!!
Asmo ended up dropping the rest of his bags just so he could properly litter his human in nuzzles and kisses, the both of them humming and giggling in delight despite their shameless PDA.
Of course it would be his MC to see that part in himself… Who else would take the time?
Beelzebub
Food is a precious resource to Beel. For him, it's a lifeline. A good meal could save him from the brink of starvation…
But that still doesn't make him incapable of sharing from time to time.
He and the MC were walking back to the House after getting takeout from Hell's Kitchen. Beel hadn't even waited until they left the restaurant to start eating his share, spilling the smell of fresh food into the air around them…
Things were going fine on their route back until they heard whimpering behind them…
A hellhound puppy, not quite old enough to bear its fangs, seemingly followed them as they were walking… It looked like it had been out for some time and eyed their food with hungry eyes, but weak posture. Who knows when it last had a meal?
The MC was about to tug at Beel's sleeve and say something, but their demon was ahead of them this time.
A casual observer might have gawked at the sight of Gluttony kneeling down to offer such a lowly creature a sandwich. But the MC knew better. When you spend your whole life hungry, nobody more than you understands that kind of pain in someone else.
This reaction wasn't out of character for Beel, it was elementary.
And when the puppy finished its meal and covered Beel's cheeks with appreciative licks, he just laughed and scratched behind its ears. Amethyst eyes looking more relieved at its health than disappointed he lost some of his lunch...
Food was Beel's lifeline, but kindness is what made him who he was…
When the pup finally scampered off, Beel looked over at the MC to tell them it'd be alright and saw their face…
He wasn't really sure what they were staring at… Did he have something between his teeth again?
"MC? Are you okay...?"
They laughed at him for some reason but pulled him in for a hug so they must have meant well.
"You're so sweet, Beel…"
Beel's never one to refuse a compliment so he just hugged them back, beaming.
"Thank you, MC…"
Belphegor
To say that Belphegor tended to be on the melancholic side would be an understatement… It wasn’t that he was incapable of expressing joy, it was just harder for him to do than most. Not helped, of course, by his tendency to keep his true feelings vague and hard to pinpoint.
But on those rare occasions where he was overjoyed… Belphie could really be something special…
The MC and Belphie were attending one of Beel's games and it was a tight one… Both teams had spent most of it tied and Beel's team was running out of time to overtake that slim margin.
Belphie had always been a supporter of his twin's athletics, but this time it was tense even for him. He kept on the edge of his seat and didn't even nod off during the breaks like he normally would… The MC could just tell how nervous he was for Beel…
But right as the time was about to run out, Beel made a last minute score and sure, the whole field erupted, but Belphie? Belphie hollered.
The normally sleepy and mellow demon was on his feet in an instant and practically shredding his vocal chords in excitement. If his tail had been out, it would have been beating against the bleachers like a war-drum. And his expression?
Belphie's smile is said to stop hearts for a reason. When he puts his all into a grin it's almost like he ascends to Heaven once more, as pure as an angel's choir and as warm as a summer's breeze… Nothing in his eyes but pride and adoration for his beloved twin brother.
Truly, a heartwarming sight to behold…
Belphie didn't calm down until the rest of the crowd settled and was about to point out Beel's skill to the MC when he noticed their face.
… oh no… Why do they look so sappy…?
"You really love your brother, don't you?"
Belphie quickly hid his thoughts behind an irritated frown and plopped back down in his seat… but that didn't shield them from seeing his pink cheeks.
"Of course I do. What kind of question is that?"
He debated just joining Beel on the field to hide his embarrassment when he heard them snicker back.
"Yeah, you're right… Don't mind me."
Oh he minded. He minded a lot that he let his carefully veiled image slip like that. But thinking back to that smile on their face…?
Maybe being a little open wasn't so bad after all...
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me headcanons#obey me hc#obey me scenarios
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“...and you’re nowhere near the strongest.”
(Pg. 447, Vengeful by V.E. Schwab)
(Full version and notes below- Gore warning for the full pic!)
AKA the scene where Eli hugs someone to death.
Possibly an unpopular opinion, but Vengeful was absolutely Eli’s book; the other characters all have interesting arcs in their own way, but it’s Eli’s characterization in Vengeful that has always stuck out to me because he is by far at his scariest in the sequel.
He spends the whole book doing what he’s good at- tracking EOs, obsessing over Victor and his own religious beliefs in equal measure, and healing endlessly- just like in Vicious, but the difference here is that we get to see him without the mask (or with a very thin veneer of one). And without it, he is just as smart, relentless, and brutal as he was before, but he’s also desperate. A lot of people talk about Eli’s narcissism, but something I don’t see mentioned as much is his desperation, especially in Vengeful. In Vicious, he has assurance that his power means he doesn’t need to fear living, but in Vengeful, he learns otherwise, and it rocks his whole belief system so hard that his mask shatters into itty bitty pieces, and everyone gets to see the same monster Victor was always looking for.
And desperate, no-mask Eli is completely, utterly horrifying, because he’s both terrified and terrifying. It’s a fascinating reading experience.
The fight with Marcella is also amazing. It really feels like a cathartic break for the two, with Marcella getting to ruin someone who stole her moment and Eli finally getting to sink back into his very morbid comfort zone. Each little micro-confrontation leading up to this final one is so visceral, and then it caps off with a hug of all things that is still really, really brutal. Eli smiling as his body erodes while Marcella stands her ground, both snapping little one-liners at each other as the building falls apart around them... One of my favorite scenes in the series tbh.
OK, now that all that book rambling is over, here’s a semi-rendered fake screenshot for this scene since I wanted to draw something for it. I’ve been listening to the audiobooks recently, and while I prefer the original narrator for Victor scenes (they’re still good, don’t get me wrong, but a little less theatric then they were before), the new narrator does a really good job of giving Eli this arrogant, sickeningly-smooth voice. Here’s the result; it’s purposefully sketchy since I was mostly concentrating on colors and composition here. Trying to figure out how to illustrate these two in a way that showed the damage without showing... well, everything else was a little tricky, but I think this works. I don’t think Eli’s face was described as wicking away, but I always envisioned him almost nuzzling into her shoulder at one point to get rid of the collar and everything else is getting eroded, so I drew it getting messed up too. Trying to figure out how to draw it and the burning hair was also difficult, but I wasn’t going to look up reference images for it, so this is what I came up with.
So yeah. Worst hug ever.
#vicious#vicious ve schwab#vengeful#villains series#Eli Ever#villains duology#marcella riggins#marcella morgan#vengeful spoilers#gore warning#burn warning#book fanart#sorry for the absence friends I have been BUSY#including with a bunch of vicious fics#so while I work on finishing some things feel free to send me an ask#or comment if you want to talk books or art or something
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late night experiences | g.w.
Pairing: George Weasley x female reader.
Summary: learning new things is always better when it is done with someone else.
Word Count: 2,7k.
Warnings: smut! Masturbation, mentions of innocence kink.
Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.
A/N: please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention ❤
Masterlist!
Your last year at Hogwarts rushed into your life without warning — and so did your sexual hormones. You swore to Merlin you could feel them tingling all over your body whenever you solely looked at George Weasley, your majestic boyfriend. And apparently, he felt the same way towards you. Wondering the reason behind it all, you were quick to blame the fact that the two of you had just turned 18.
You had been together for a little while now: around nine months or so. But nothing had ever happened, and you were not quite sure why. You two had, supposedly, everything needed: steamy make-out sessions, wandering hands, lustful thoughts, privacy, and all that jazz. Yet, there you were: ground zero.
However, things were about to change even though you still were unconscious about it.
“Psst!” Your favorite quill stopped scribbling your Herbology notes. “Oi!” Your eyes gazed at the direction from which came the voice only to realize it was one of your classmates, Angelina Johnson. “I’ve discovered something last night which I thought you might be interested in.” A mischievous smirk painted her lips as you leaned in closer, already feeling eager to listen to whatever she had to say. She was one of those people who made anyone pay attention to them whenever they said something.
Her hushed whispers filled the existing silence between you two in the Study Area once more. “The boys were talking in our common room last night, and rumor has it George can’t keep his hands off of his cock whenever he thinks of you.”
Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet giggled like little girls when she finally finished her speech. You could feel your cheeks getting embraced by a deep and violent warmness. Uh-oh.
Your mind suddenly produced images by itself: George’s chest going up and down quickly as he moaned under his breath. He had his long and slender fingers wrapped around his dick and, sweet Merlin, he was big. Big and thick and veiny. His eyelashes fluttered as his hand pumped up and down a few times, precum leaking from his tip.
Heaven probably looked like that. What a lovely sight. You would give anything to actually see the great George Weasley in such a position. But, again: ground zero.
Still, the possibility of him pleasuring himself at the thought of you seemed to awake something new inside your chest and offer you a novel tingling sensation. You felt a burning flame in your loins, and it was almost as if your entire body were on fire.
You wanted him to jerk off thinking of you. You wanted his hands to get dirty from his own seed because of you.
You gulped. Snapping fingers brought you back to reality. “Girl, it’s high time you gave that poor lad some love, you know.”
The next few days felt slow and eternal. George Weasley and George Weasley’s thick dick were the only things occupying your mind. Of course, you had fantasized about him before; but it had never been that vivid. Things are always better when they are real, after all.
And you wanted to do something about it. Your soul ached for him to share his hidden and erotic reality with you. Your flesh longed to be painfully close to his. Your body and your hands desired to tease him and give him something to be unbearably hard over. You obviously would not feel in peace until you got what you wanted.
That is why the suggestion of a late night meeting in the Prefect’s Bathroom came to life. It was discussed during another of your studying session with Angelina, Alicia and Katie, being first brought on by Angelina, of course. That girl had many wild cards up her sleeve.
“I happen to know the password. Got it from a Slytherin guy, after giving him a few galleons.”
“And a blowjob, too.” Alicia responded with her eyebrows raised and a mischievous grin hanging on her lips.
As the three other girls laughed carelessly, seeming to be extremely relaxed and confident to talk about such a topic, you chewed on your bottom lip. Jittery feelings bubbled up within your veins while concern clouded your mind. You had a severe lack of inexperience when it came down to anything sexual.
Your temporary anxiety was sharply noticed by Katie, who positioned her hand over yours in a comforting act. Her fingers soothed your skin, her next words slipping out of her lips as motherly advice.
“Don’t feel pressured to do anything, honestly. George is one of the most understanding people I have ever met. But I think a little bit of intimacy would work wonders on you, both of you.” Her grip on your hand became a bit tighter, and her warmth was incredibly pacifying. “You know, just suggest going to the Prefect’s Bathroom tomorrow night. He will surely accept, once he is heads over heels for you. Get in the warm, bubbly water. Kiss him, if you feel comfortable enough for that. And just see where it goes.”
Your other two friends nodded, assuring you everything was alright and that you could always count on them for support and advice. The conversation went on for a little longer, they sharing intimacy tips and encouraging you.
Luckily enough, the next morning was one that you had classes with George. You brought on the subject in the end of the lesson, while he gathered his material quietly.
His lips opened up in a bright smile in the moment you appeared in front of him, but his expression was soon destroyed by your visible tensed posture.
“Hey, gorgeous. Are you alright?”
You sighed shortly, trying to relieve some of your internalized insecurities. The suggestion came out of your lips in a mere murmur, but he was smart enough to grasp onto all of your words. His eyes noticed your dodging gaze and your fidgeting fingers, playing with the hem of your tie. You looked absolutely adorable to him.
“See you later tonight, then. Prefect’s Bathroom, 12AM sharp. I won’t be late.”
The rest of the day felt like an eternity. Perhaps, it was the uncertainty of it all, given that there was no way to predict how the scenario would take place later on. But the time for your meeting agonizingly came, and you were forced to leave your dormitory.
The weather was unpleasantly hot, and it was hard for you to tell whether it was due to the time of the year you were going through, or to the fact you were walking towards your own doom.
You had been curious and tempted to get to know his darker and more lustful façade but, at the same time, you were ashamed of how much you craved him despite being your first time feeling anything like that. Those same novel tingles from before returned to your loins as your made your way to the fifth floor.
Underneath your favorite carmine red pleated skirt and a muggle band T-shirt, you wore a set of lingerie that had not received much attention when previously picked out, which was a simple white bra paired with white panties, covered in tiny pink strawberries. When you were about to reach your destination, you came down to the realization of how childish your underwear looked. You inhaled sharply, concluding you had ruined everything.
Eventually, you and George met, and entered the bathroom hand in hand.
Although you had heard of its wonderful interiors, seeing everything with your own eyes for the first time made you gasp. Your gaze traveled through the place, and you wished to engrave every detail in your heart. The white marble grandness awoke a sense of greatness and admiration inside you, and you almost fell to your knees right then and there.
A tad of small talk was exchanged between you and your boyfriend, until he approached you at last. His big hands cupped your delicate face, and he leaned down to kiss you.
His lips were so terribly gentle that they sent butterflies to your stomach. He showed no shyness in the second his hands roamed down your body and found your back, giving your ass a light squeeze. Unable to control yourself, you moaned and pressed your body against his.
A steamy make out moment was held between the two of you until the moment for the truth hovered over your heads. He rested his forehead against yours, and looked at you with loving eyes as his thumb ran over your lips.
“Tell me why we are here, darling.”
“It’s just that…There had been this rumor, you know?” A shy chuckle escaped your lips, and you closed your eyes, trying to block out all the filthy images suddenly appearing in your mind. “People have been saying that you jerk off thinking about me. But I’m not sure if it’s true or not, because we have –“
“It is true.” The coolness in his voice caught you off guard, and you blinked at him in a mixture of shock and self-induced accomplishment: your boyfriend touched himself at the thought of you.
Your eyelashes fluttered until your eyes were shut, and a sigh escaped your lips. Your mind knew no restrains at that moment, and the images you had been blocking out came to life all at once, violently crashing against your insides, almost like agitated waves at a beach.
Silence embraced the two of you again, but neither of you felt bothered by it. You took your time to let the sinful images sink in, and he took his time to study your face. You had been clearly affected by the truth he had just spilled out, and he secretly enjoyed such thing. He could read you like the palm of his hand, and he knew you were thinking about him with his dick out.
As he breathed heavily, fearing air would forever leave his lungs after what he was about to do, he prepared himself for what was about to come. His thumb ran over your slightly swollen lips but, this time, he parted them with a gentle tug on your lower lip. George timidly shoved his thumb into your mouth, and you, with your eyes still closed, took all of it.
Your tongue swirl against his finger, the feeling of your saliva dancing against his skin sending electrical waves down his spine. You continued on sucking him until your cheeks finally hollowed, and he pulled his finger out with a low ‘pop’ noise.
You opened your eyes in a deep frustration, but he could no longer take it. His cock was hard inside his trousers and it battled for its freedom. He breathed unsteadily and with a bit of difficulty, his mind starting to wonder how your lips would feel wrapped around his tip.
The realization that you two had never done anything before hit him hard, and he felt himself twitching while precum started wetting the fabric of his underwear.
Would it be selfish of him to think he would probably be the first one ever to taste your cunt? The first one to penetrate you, the first one to end your innocence for eternity, the first one to feel your walls clenching around him, the first one to make you cum.
George was forced to step back and groan in bitterness. He really wanted to fuck you, but he would never disrespect you or your limits. Plus, on top of that, he really did not know how he could express his urges.
“S-Sorry, darling. I-I-I don’t know what’d gotten into me, I guess I just lo-“
“Can you show me how you touch yourself?”
The question hung on air for one or two moments. You could not believe what you had just said. You were drunk on a new dizzying and exciting sensation, one that left your panties secretly wet and your clit throbbing, and one which made you ask your boyfriend to masturbate right in front of you.
So he did it. Apparently, Katie was right: George Weasley would gladly accept anything you asked him.
After the enormous bathtub had been filled with water and bubbles, he undressed and you lost all of your senses for a bit.
His fair skin carried grand amounts of both freckles and small scars. His entire silhouette was outlined by groups of yet developing muscles, but each one of them caused more wetness to pool in your strawberries ridiculously covered panties. George was so tall, his shoulders were so broad, and his dick was indeed so big.
When all of his being finally became bare in front of you, you rubbed your thighs together, the need for friction creeping inside your body for the first time ever.
You stood still exactly where you were, but he made his way to the tub, sitting on the edge of the white porcelain. He lowered his dark eyes to his throbbing member and his touch caused a relieved sigh to leave his lips. His hand moved up and down a few times until he looked at you again.
There was something different on his face. His eyelids seemed to be a tad heavier, and the sounds slipping out of his slightly parted lips were the most delicious thing you had ever heard.
George Weasley was jerking off right in front of you. He was moaning only for you. And you hoped he would cum just for you, too.
As the minutes slowly went by the two of you, you watched him quietly. However, it was impossible for him to keep quiet. By now, his moans were loud and shameless. He whispered your name every now and then, the thought of you bouncing up and down his dick providing all the fuel he needed to orgasm only for you.
That was entirely new for you. You felt so dirty, so sinful, so misbehaved, but you were living for it. You wanted more of him, and you also wanted to give George more of you. And that was exactly the reason why you said your next sentence out loud.
“Can I touch myself?”
His ears convinced himself that he had heard it incorrectly, but the way your fingers tugged on your T-shirt, and your thighs rubbed together, he knew he was not mistaken. A new rush of pleasure ran through his veins and he pumped his hand faster. Unable to form coherent sentences, he mumbled something along the lines of ‘please’ and nodded vehemently.
In the blink of an eye, both of your bodies were unclothed and both of you played with your intimacies. George’s right hand applied all the pressure that could possibly resemble your tight cunt wrapped around his cock, and your fingers helped the squelching sounds coming from your wetness to echo in the bathroom. You had never thought that so many lustful sensations could occupy your body all at once and, yet, there you were: masturbating at the sight of your boyfriend doing the exact same.
By now, you also had problems breathing and the tight knot inside your body screamed for a break. You pulled your hand away from your dripping cunt, but you remained connect to your womanhood by a very thin and almost invisible string of your juices.
George obviously noticed that tiny detail and it was too much for him. He announced he was close and, soon enough, his skin was stained by the pleasure you had given him. His eyes were closed as he felt his heartbeat increasing and the images of you still haunting his mind.
The way he accepted and let his orgasm work on his body made you move your hand against your clit faster and you followed him in a matter of seconds. Your body trembled and you could not stop whining.
You had never experienced something so astonishingly sensational.
Your pants filled the bathroom for a little while before his body finally slipped into the still warm water. The comfort offered by the setting relaxed his existence and he weakly called and asked you to join him, which you happily agreed with.
He touched your hips and pulled you closer, placing your body against his chest. With his lips pressed against your temple, he whispered a series of ‘thank you’ and ‘you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen’.
However, his final words changed the mood completely and you hated him for it.
“That’s a nice pair of panties, by the way.”
Tag list! ❤️ @efyra @writingsomewrongs @kellsslut @pineapplesandpinas @fiction-is-the-new-reality @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @emmaev @asthmax @anchoeritic @eunoia-kth
#george weasley x reader#george weasley imagine#george weasley smut#george weasley#harry potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter smut#🌼 — personal: writings
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Hi! How are you?
Could I get a Kaz Brekker imagine where he opens up to the reader after a job about his past and the next day he tells her it was a mistake and a lapse of judgement, quite harshly. And then the reader gets hurt after a heist and he realises how much he actually needs her.
Thank you <3
i’m doing pretty good! first kaz fic tehe, i’ve been waiting to do kaz brekker one-shots since i read the books. he is v much a comfort character. i understand his aversion to physical touch ( i have panic attacks at times because of so ), his humor, and inner dialogue so he is v dear and near to my heart yeeee
i switched up the next day bit and did it as the same time since it made more sense to me?? i’m not sure how to explain it haha
pairings! kaz x reader / jesper x wylan + nina x matthias ( with inej third wheeling because she’d so do so. )
reader is female in this, but i can make it non-gender specific if one would like me too! just let me know i’m very flexible in my writing!
warnings! talking about jordie, ptsd, trauma, talk of death, loss of a brother + mother, swear words, kaz being sad, panic attacks, blood, near death experience, pekka a-hole rollins,
word count; 2610 ( proud again haha )
one-shot under cut!
COMPANIONABLE SILENCE
The Slat had become uncharacteristically quiet. A successful heist on part of the Crows made for easy celebration amongst the Dregs. Most sat gambling at the Crow Club, drinking the night away. Jesper had been having a weirdly lucky night, the money in front of him displaying such. Wylan had been on Jesper’s leg the entire night, and the occasional ‘This is my lucky charm’ could be heard from Jesper. Inej and Nina sat drinking together, Matthias looking like an unwilling bystander to the girls' fun. And yet, Y/N found herself back at the Slat after the long day. Her back screamed at her to call it a night, but instead, she found herself in front of Kaz’s door.
It was a routine the two had when they were the only ones at the Slat. Y/N would sit on the bed, head in a book, and Kaz would sit quietly at his desk planning whatever it was Kaz Brekker decided to plan. It seemed the same tonight, with Y/N quietly reading, until her head lifted to see Kaz rubbing his eyes.
“You need to get more sleep. The amount you manage is minimal. I’m surprised you’re not dead yet,” Y/N commented, her book falling into her lap, the page she’d left off on now folded at the corner. It surprised her how Kaz managed to live off of his, if lucky, two hours of sleep. She’d never understand it. Granted, she slept less than the suggested as well, but she always made up for it with at least a nap during the day.
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
That might be sooner than you think at this rate. But Y/N wouldn’t take that for an answer. She wasn’t usually a pushy person, especially with Kaz Brekker. She’d learned being pushy with him was never a good idea, considering the amount of people who did were left with a ruined reputation and nothing to live with.
“Sleeping when you’re dead isn’t an option in Ketterdam. Even when you’re dead here, you’re really not. Especially when people know of you. And last time I checked, the entire city knows you, and half of it wants your head on a silver platter. I’m actually sure people outside of the city know you, and may want the same,” Y/N said, standing and moving over to the wooden desk, sitting across from Kaz. Her eyes landed on the work Kaz worked on, seeing another heist plan he was drawing out.
Kaz wasn’t going to give in easily, anyone who knew him knew he was stubborn. One of the most stubborn people who lived in Ketterdam, but he knew what Y/N was saying held some truth in it. One was never truly dead in Ketterdam. He suspected people would dig up his body to hand over to Pekka Rollins - no, he wouldn’t die before Pekka Rollins did, that was a promise he’d made himself after Jordie. Brick by Brick. He couldn’t pull Rollins apart if he was dead. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t dead yet: his vigor to destroy the man who’d killed his brother. But he did suspect that when he, Kaz Brekker, was dead, he’d never truly be dead.
“Even so, I have things to do, plans to make-”
“At 1 in the morning? I’m sure such plans aren’t going to disappear overnight.” Being cut off, Kaz casted Y/N a glare, eyes narrowing. Why she had such influence over him, he’d never know. Or, maybe he did know and wasn’t going to express why. Because why would he? Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason after all. He always had reasons though.
Finally, Y/N sighed. “I don’t expect you to listen to me, but I’m not going to let you rot away from the lack of sleep you get, Kaz. I am just as stubborn as you, and if I must? I will sit here and bug you about your lack of sleep until sunrise. Or until I inevitably fall asleep.” The smallest glimpse of a smile reached Kaz’s lips, an instinct to roll his eyes almost playfully too. Stubborn about the well-being of her friends was a Y/N special. Kaz had simply thought he’d have time before she got on his ass about his own health.
She’d already gotten on Wylan about his self-destructive habits. His tendency to blame himself for not being good enough. Y/N had practically choked him out once when he’d gone on a rant about how he was a problem for the Crows. A burden. Kaz himself had been somewhat frightened. She’d found ways to help Jesper and his gambling addiction, which usually included them gambling, but in ways that didn’t involve money. She’d gotten on Matthias for his excuses to not kiss Nina.
If Kaz remembered correctly, she’d called it ‘redirecting the issue’.
“You’re avoiding something,” Y/N then spoke, crossing her arms. Weren’t they all avoiding something? Kaz thought, huffing as he sat back into his seat. This was Ketterdam after all. If you weren’t running from some rich merchant, then you were running from their son. Wylan had simply been a lucky break in that usual streak.
“You say that as if we all aren’t running from something,” Kaz finally said out loud, his eyes casted downwards.
“Avoiding, Kaz. Not running, and something tells me the thing you’re avoiding isn’t something, but someone.” Y/N knew the look Kaz had on. She’d worn it herself dozens of times.
“I had a brother.” Kaz couldn’t bring himself to look directly at Y/N. It would make talking about this all too real. Too much. Was this a lapse in his judgement? Why was he telling her this? Had she managed to get so under his skin?
“We moved to Ketterdam after my father died. My brother . . . Jordie-'' the name came out with a small crack in his voice. He hadn’t said that name out loud since he’d laid on his sick brother’s chest. “Was hopeful about what the city would bring, and it brought peace for some time. We worked with a man for some time, and my brother was in on a deal. One that seemed too good to be true,” Kaz scowled now, his anger seeming to rise as he spoke.
Y/N sighed, knowing where this was going now. “When an offer is too good to be true-”
“It usually is. That man went by a different name then. One to scam people for their money to rise through the ranks of the Barrel.” Kaz finally lifted his eyes, seeing the realization rush over Y/N’s face.
“Pekka Rollins.”
“Pekka Rollins is the reason my brother is dead.”
The room fell silent for a few moments, Y/N contemplating what to say. She had a feeling she was among the few who knew Kaz’s story. She was tempted to ask how Joride died, but she could infer. She’d been around Ketterdam during the time firepox had plagued the city. Her mother had been taken from the disease. She’d been the same age as Kaz. It began clicking in her head too.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N murmured. “I know you probably don’t want my pity, but really, I’m sorry.” It made sense why Kaz felt like he needed to best Pekka Rollins. He wanted revenge. He wanted Rollins to be just as down as him and his brother had been.
Kaz sucked in a deep breath, standing and running a hand through his hair. His regret for telling the woman before him began to consume him. This was a mistake. Why had he told her? A harsh look fell over his face, looking down at the plans he had laid out. “I need to finish these plans, and I’m sure you need some sleep,” his tone was harsh, but it was clear there was hurt underlying it. He wasn’t going to be an outright asshole, but he needed his space now.
“You need sleep too, and I doubt you’re in the right headspace to try and make plans-”
“Y/N, leave.” He internally was begging. And Kaz Brekker never begged . . . but Kaz Rietveld would, and that’s who was begging.
“Kaz-”
“Leave.” Anger washed over his features, his eyes directing Y/N to the door.
Y/N sighed, walking towards the door. Before she turned the knob, she stopped. “You know being open about your past doesn’t make you weak, right?” But Kaz said nothing, afraid his voice would fail him. With no words spoken for a beat, Y/N opened the door, shutting it as she paced down the steps.
Her book still lied on the bed, the folded paper to the chapter she was on prominent. Kaz took one look at it before sighing and sitting in the chair, one tear making its way down his face.
---
It was supposed to be in and out. Another job. Another however much Kruge. Where is she? Kaz thought. Y/N was never one for being late. Sure she was working with Jesper, who was notoriously late, but she should’ve been out before Jesper was, and she wasn’t.
It’d been a week of no speaking. Kaz couldn’t speak to her after revealing so much. He feared it would become all too real. A common fear he had. Stealing, picking locks, it was all real to him, yes, but he never experienced reality when he was on a job. It was his way of ‘avoiding’ as Y/N would put it. But now, he couldn’t avoid the reality of this job.
The reality was: He’d ignored Y/N for a week in fear, and now she wasn’t at the rondevu point.
She’s Y/N, she isn’t dead. But that may not be true. She could indeed be dead. She could be, She could be, She could be.... Dozens of potential outcomes came to mind.
The world seemed to spin as he paced. Nina and Matthias had already tried to calm him. Nina had even tried to calm his heart rate down. Wylan seemed to be just as worried as Kaz as well, Jesper still out there alongside Y/N and all. Inej was calm, but it was clear she was worried too. They all were, but Kaz was being unusually emotional.
“At this rate, you’re going to have a heart attack Kaz,” Nina had said.
And if he did, then that’d be a first for the Bastard of The Barrel.
“And you’re not close to having one?” Wylan asked, shooting a glare over at Nina.
Kaz mentally thanked Wylan. At least he wasn’t the only one close to breaking down. Get in and out. In and out. What had gone wrong?
But then he heard the sound of boots running across the muddy ground, his eyes shooting up to see Jesper carrying a bleeding Y/N.
She’s bleeding. Who had hurt her? Kaz wasn’t sure, but anger filled him. That was until he fully internalized that Y/N was bleeding.
“Jesper, what happened?”
Jesper helped Y/N into the safe house, his breathing heavy as he helped her onto the bed of one of the rooms. “Rollins. He got word of the job. We became overwhelmed and Y/N here took a bullet to the shoulder.” Then Wylan was practically engulfing Jesper in a hug.
How? Was Kaz’s initial thought, but with a huff, he closed his eyes. Moving over to follow Jesper, he took off his coat. Upon entering the room Y/N was sitting in, he nodded towards her good arm, silently asking for her to take off the sleeve of the arm that was hit.
“I thought we weren’t speaking?” Y/N asked, groaning as she pulled the sleeve of her bad shoulder off with some help from Inej who pushed everyone else out of the room. Inej left as well, but gave Kaz a nod to let her know when he would need help.
Kaz didn’t lift his eyes to look at Y/N, his eyes steady on the bullet lodged in her shoulder. He pulled out the medical kit under the bed. Always prepared, Y/N thought.
“How did Rollins find out?” Y/N asked, watching Kaz pick up tweezers from the small medical kit.
“I’m not sure, but I plan on figuring it out. Stay still.” And Y/N did, knowing this was hard enough as it was for Kaz, she didn’t want to make it any harder. Squeezing her eyes shut as she prepared for the pain. She gripped onto the bed, seething as Kaz took the bullet out with the tweezers.
“I hope you know, I didn’t mean any harm last week.” Kaz knew what Y/N was referring too, and he simply nodded for the moment. Picking up the bandages from the kit, Y/N shook her head.
“Get Inej to do it, you’ve already pushed yourself enough.”
“It’s fine,” Kaz spoke, his voice firm.
“Kaz, don’t-”
“I want too.” His eyes lifted to finally look up at Y/N. She looked down as well, silently nodding. She understood Kaz enough to know this was his apology for ignoring her the past week.
“My mother, she died from firepox,” Y/N spoke quietly. She didn’t know how Kaz would take her bringing it up, but she felt that if she didn’t, they’d build up all this anger again. They’d ignore one another again. Kaz stalled. Flashes of Jordie and Reapers Barge consumed him for a few moments. Y/N’s skin turned cold, icy and raw. He flinched away from the feeling.
Then he heard it - Y/N’s heartbeat. She was living. She wasn’t a corpse. The heartbeat and blood were testament to that. She isn’t dead.
“I never told you how he died,” Kaz spoke quietly. He wasn’t used to talking about such subjects with anyone. It was the reason he’d taken on a different surname. That way he could cut ties with his past.
But for some reason, Y/N was able to make him feel . . . though begrudgingly, open with his past.
“I can infer, Kaz,” Y/N said with a small hiss as Kaz finished with the bandage, his hands shaky. “Now, you can continue ignoring me if you wish, I imagine you enjoy avoiding me.”
“I don’t enjoy it.” Kaz now had someone he connected with on a level he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t going to enjoy being apart from that.
“I know, I was simply making sure,” Y/N teased, her lips quirking in a small smile.
Kaz gave a small shake of his head, his lips pulling into a smile as well for just a moment. Then he picked up his coat he’d taken off. “I imagine you’re cold, here,” he spoke then, watching as Y/N took it and wrapped it around herself.
Then the door swung open, Nina rushing over to give Y/N a hug. “Kaz here almost had a heart attack. Wylan almost did. Jeez, never do that again,” she said, laughing a bit.
“Ouch, ouch, Nina,” Y/N spoke, referencing the still open wound on her shoulder.
“Sorry, sorry. We made food for you,” Nina said, smiling before handing Y/N a tray of food.
Kaz exited the room, allowing the others some time to talk to Y/N. Inej followed him, her arms crossed as she leaned against one of the walls.
“What information do you want me to get on Rollins?”
“Whatever you can find.” You’re not taking her from me Rollins, and you’d better be ready when I do come for you. Brick by Brick.
#kaz brekker#kaz rietveld#kaz brekker x reader#shadow and bone#six of crows#kaz six of crows#crooked kingdom#jesper x wylan#wesper#nina x matthias#angst#kaz brekker imagine#one shot#imagines#i wanna cry#nina zenik#wylan van eck#wylan van sunshine#jesper fahey#inej ghafa#matthias helvar
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