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#has anyone heard of these books or is it just me?
siythn · 2 days
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Worth The Wait
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LEVIXREADER! Working for the hit T.V show, Attack on Titan has truly given you many memories and opportunities. You knew you got along with your Co-Star, Levi Ackerman, a bit different than everybody else. The question was, did he notice it too? _______ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ♫ lover - taylor swift ❝ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅɪʀᴛɪᴇꜱᴛ ᴊᴏᴋᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ, ɪ'ʟʟ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴀᴛ❞
You were four years old when you got your first acting gig. It was a commercial for a clothing brand that you've long forgotten; to say you'll never forget what it soon brought you later on is an understatement.
The grandeur of Oscar night welcomes you the moment you step onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and people calling out your name create a symphony of blinding lights, and clicks, with overbearing noise you can't quite make out.
Your assistant guides you and your "plus one" (a teasing nickname that arose when someone recognized you and not Levi when grabbing lunch), who just is your co-star and closest friend; Levi Ackerman, past the shouts of photographers trying to capture a moment of two well-known actors for Attack on Titan's critical acclaim.
To say Attack On Titan wasn't a huge hit was an insulting statement. It's proved itself by its many awards won over the years. It's bringing home one or more Oscars tonight to sit pretty for the rest to celebrate.
But for you, the real turmoil churns inside your stomach and into your already existing nerves as you await the category of Best Supporting Actress—your category. 
Working with the cast who's seen you grow as an actor, most importantly; a person from the start is enough fulfillment for you. To share experiences that are one of a household is short of a blessing.
But when you heard the news you were nominated for an Oscar, nothing could've prepared you for the rush of emotions that was to come. With the satisfaction you already gained with Attack On Titan; being considered to be a real winner was the cherry on top.
The famous show has been your haven for years now. It's where your career took one for the books; where your name became one familiar. You remember your first day on set, the bundle of anxiety that sat in your stomach and never quite left until you got to understand the people you would be calling your family in interviews.
One person clicked differently from the rest. Levi Ackerman is someone you'd consider a best friend or even more. To be real, you couldn't even figure out your feelings for yourself, which led you to swear you'd never admit it due to sheer embarrassment. Plus, it seems quite scandalous to have a "crush" on a co-star you've been so dear with.
It never stopped the fans though.
They have long picked up on the chemistry between you two, both on-screen and off. Your characters, connect in ways of war, along with the unspoken tension that fans adore. You weren't complaining since it brought more media attention, but the cast always had a field day when an interviewer brought it up. 
Long over the years of working together, your bond became inseparable. Close moments in the set transcribed to real life with the both of you.
Meeting him for the first time is always a funny story since both of you seemed to hold distaste for the other. When you sucked up the courage to confront him at his trailer as to why he hated you so much, you received a dumbfounded look. With crossed arms, he claimed, "I thought you hated me, so I just assumed you wanted space."
You two become closer and closer from that day on. Not to boost his ego—but his presence alone is a force in itself. The familiarity of his nearness is a comfort you've latched onto.
And, with the way you're latched onto his arm, grip tightening as the minutes fly by, anyone could pick up a clue.
You've been grasping his arm for who knows how long, but not a word of complaint has come from Levi yet. You feel bad, but your nerves are a title wave compared to the guilt.
Levi, ever the calm, senses how tense you are as he stares. "Just breathe," he whispers, leaning close enough that his words only reach your ear in the chaos.
You feel his breath grazing your neck, before pulling away with a soft nod; making sure his comforting words reach you. With a brief nod, you continue being directed to your seats.
As you and the cast find your seats, located in the middle with fancy chairs and decorum; you thank every high being you can think of when you see your name tag, then Levi's name, sitting right next to you.
"Oh no, look who's sitting next to me," Confused, you look to see Hange pulling in her chair as she sits. Levi, noticing your gaze, nudges your shoulder to redirect your stare. Following it, you find yourself looking back at your name.
"Shut up," You mumble, releasing the hold you have on his arm to smack him slightly, in return he gives you a grin. 
Being sat at one of the tables, in the Dolby Theatre, is as surreal as it might sound. You can't take your eyes off the gravitating stage. You wonder if you'll be standing up there in a bit.
As the night progresses, the time for Best Supporting Actress draws near. You haven't moved from your seat in the dim glow of the theater, too hot and overwhelmed. Levi's hand finds yours again under the table, his grip firm. It feels different this time, probably considering how you're holding his hand rather than grasping onto his forearm.
From the corner of your eye, you can see him watching you, not bothering to watch what's happening on the big stage. "No matter what happens, we celebrate tonight," he assures you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"I think that's just an excuse for drinking." With a suppressed laugh and a smile matching Levi's, he gives you a snarky glare, he responds with a "watch out" kind of look, and a squeeze of his hand.
The lights dim and brighten, continuing the show even though you feel stuck in one. In this grand theatre, spotlighting the famous and the influential, there you are, seated next to Levi, your hand clasped tightly in his.
It's comical to think about.
As the category for Best Supporting Actress shows up in big bold letters, your heart pounds like it's trying to beat right out of your chest. You can practically hear your blood pumping.
You're nominated this is it; is what goes through your mind over and over, and the reality is as daunting as it is thrilling.
Your palm sweats against Levi's, but he gives your hand another reassuring squeeze. When you glance at him, he offers you a small, confident nod, as if he knows a secret you don't.
The presenter takes the stage, envelope in hand, and the murmur of the room hushes. "And now," the presenter begins, her voice echoing throughout the grand auditorium, "the nominees for Best Supporting Actress."
Your heart skips a beat as your face appears on the screen, a well-known clip from Attack on Titan, Season Four. It shows an emotional moment, a scene that took you weeks to prepare for; and fuck did you do it well, the tears pouring down your face add to the dramatics.
You can hear your cast and others cheer and clap, long before it's interrupted by another face, one of your competitors.
In your peripheral vision, you can see a cameraman waltz towards you, ready to get your reaction to who wins the Oscar. Hopefully, the tablecloths are long.
Your heart pounds in your ears, drowning out the next few moments until the sharp sound of your name cuts through, clear and irrevocable. "And the Oscar goes to. . .,"
The presenter takes so long to open the envelope, to the point where you don't care who wins or loses. You want the anticipation to be over with.
With a tiny cough to clear up her voice, the presenter's voice is loud and clear and she presses her lips close to the mic. ". . . with Attack on Titan!"
At first, you don't even hear your name. Not even realizing you won, you open your closed eyes; that you didn't know were shut, to see multiple eyes staring right at you, the camera now shoved into your face.
A surge of disbelief washes over you, followed swiftly by adrenaline that rockets through your veins. As reality sets in, tears well up in your waterline, a few escape, running down to meet makeup that took your stylist a good hour.
You can't care though, it's a testament to the journey and the struggles that brought you here.
You can't even get up from your seat at first, you just sit trying to process this tremendous wave of emotions. You look to the left of you to see that Levi is already feet before you, his applause thunderous, joined by the cheers of your peers.
As you stand, overwhelmed, he reaches out, cupping your checks gently wiping away your tears with a laugh. "Hey, no tears now, get up there," he teases gently, pulling you into a hug, as you choke up a laugh and hold him right, slightly rocking the both of you right to left.
Letting go of the warmth of his embrace, you give him a smile, ear to ear; hoping it can express the amount of gratitude you hold for him in this moment.
Moving from your seat to approach other members of the cast you love, you hug and thank each one of them that's near as they shout congratulations at you. You know your time is limited; you give one final hug to Armin who's in your reach before speed walking towards the stage.
Making your way up where your face is plastered and a few new clips play, your dress falls long behind you as you rush up the steps, making quick work but not enough to trip and fall over your heels. Walking up to the presenter, you first greet her with a hug and kiss on the cheek. With a few words of congrats, she hands you the award.
Its solid weight feels real in your hands, it's something you'd never imagine having the privilege to hold let alone have. It'll forever be a tangible reminder of the years of hard work and passion you've poured into your career.
Approaching the microphone, you look out at the sea of faces—some familiar, some not—all smiling at you. There's so so so many people, is all you can think of as you release a sigh.
"Wow, um," you let out a laugh, wiping down the tears that continue to flow down. You pause, taking in the light that beams down before you start your speech.
"I honestly don't even know where to start. Thank you so much to the Academy for this incredible honor, to our director, and the amazing cast and crew of Attack on Titan. This is a dream I've never dared to dream."
You pause, collecting your thoughts and the courage to articulate the depth of your gratitude. That's when it hits you.
Your eyes scan the crowd until they rest on Levi. "And I need to say a special thank you to my co-star, Levi Ackerman," you continue, your voice already starting to crack. "Levi, you have been my rock through this entire journey. On-screen, you challenge me to push harder, and off-screen, you keep me sane. I can honestly say I wouldn't be standing here without your friendship and support. Thank you for being so, so amazing."
With a side glance, you see the camera cut from you to Levi, capturing his slight blush and proud smile, expressions that send another wave of cheers through the audience.
"Most importantly, my family and friends. I can't make up the words to describe all my love for you. My parents, who supported me always, and my siblings who even though always tense me," you smile at the memories, "were the ones always there. And as always, the fans. I would never be here without all of you, I love each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart!"
As you finish your speech, the crowd erupts into applause. The noise is so loud, and with the few people yelling their hearts out, it's a moment of realization that this is real. You feel a hot blush rising your neck as you take a few bows, before hushing off backstage.
You are greeted with a glass of champagne, as camera crews gather around, calling your name in all different directions to try and snap a photo of you still holding the Oscar before you take off for interviews.
There, it seems like a press conference. More people are there than before, and many of them are out with microphones and notepads already prepared. You hear a few clicks of photos being taken as you answer questions, but you can't help but laugh when they ask about Levi and the special shoutout you gave him. "I had to give what was due," was your answer.
Finally being released, you're escorted backstage to your seat, in doing so, a few give you bright smiles and nods of compliments for your win. You return them all with smiley whites.
As you arrive back at your table, some of the members of your cast excitingly greet you, reaching out their hands with yours to give praise.
When the previous moments seem to have died down, you can focus on Levi. Who's been patiently waiting for his turn. When your eyes fall on him, you know the words before it comes out of his mouth.
"Told you," he murmurs, as he takes your free hand in his, his pride in you shining brightly. "I still can't believe it," as he places both of your hands onto his lap, you take the next step to intertwine them.
You don't know what his reaction was to it, since you looked away as soon as you made the move, embarrassment written across your features. You feel accomplished when he doesn't show any sign of breaking it.
Levi leans over, whispering, "How does it feel, Oscar-winning actress?"
You chuckle, a light, bubbly sound that matches the champagne bubbles you'd enjoyed earlier. "It feels like I'm dreaming. Don't let me wake up, okay?"
Levi's response is a soft, genuine laugh. "I won't. We're just getting started, you know."
ૢ་༘࿐
The shots you took with Connie, Sasha, and Jean are taking a toll on your body now. You feel tipsy, well that's what you're hoping. It's not that dizzy, but the occasional bumping into people/things and apologizing with slurred words shows you're not sober.
As the glittering after-party unfolds around you, the music thrumming and laughter echoing under the luxurious chandeliers,
You can feel someone's intense gaze fixated on you. When you move your eyes to search for the culprit, you find Levi's eyes rock hard on you.
Realizing you're now straight directly at him, he excuses himself from a group of producers and makes his way to you. Your heart races a bit, a reaction you're still getting used to despite the months of filming together.
"Need some air?" he asks, a knowing smile tugging at his lips as if he can read your mind. Without waiting for your reply, he nods toward a quieter balcony area. You follow, grateful for a break from the overwhelming crowd.
The cool night air is a welcoming relief, the city lights below providing a soft, romantic backdrop that you try not to read too much into.
The cold air feels blissful as it hits your skin, you know you should have something to cover yourself, but the feelings to nice to let go. Plus, the way Levi's aligned shoulder to shoulder with you making his body height seep onto yours, you know you can last a few more moments here.
Yet, there's an undeniable tension at the moment, made clearer when Levi turns to you with a look of admiration. "You did amazing tonight, by the way. That speech was something else."
You smile, touched by his words. Trying to hide the obvious attempt of panic, you knew he was going to bring up the shoutout you gave him. You just didn't know if you were ready to face it. "I was just speaking from the heart. But thank you, Levi. I couldn't have gotten through tonight without you."
He nods, his gaze lingering on yours. "It's not just tonight. You know that, right? You've got this energy about you. It's like—infectious, and makes everyone around better. Made me better."
His words seem to send a shock through your body as you slowly digest his words. As silence warps around the two of you, you quickly change the subject in hopes he won't can't a glimpse of your body becoming suspiciously flush.
"Remember that time during filming when Sasha accidentally set fire to the catering tent?" you ask, a fond smile playing on your lips.
You turn your head from the view to look at Levi. Who has yet to say a word in the comfortable silence, keeping his eyes fixed on you? He snaps out of it quickly, seeming startled by your words before making his face fall back into one normal.
His lips quirk into a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "How could I forget?" he replies, a hint of laughter in his voice. "It took hours to put out the flames, and poor Hange nearly lost their eyebrows in the process."
As your laughter begins to subside, Levi's expression turns thoughtful, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Remember that time during the blooper reel when Marco accidentally tripped over his own feet and knocked over the entire set?"
The memory hits you like a wave, and you can't help but burst into laughter, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Oh my gosh, yes!" you gasp between fits of laughter. "And then Petra tried to save him, but ended up falling on top of him instead!"
Levi joins in your laughter, the sound filling the air with a warmth that seems to wrap around you like a comforting embrace. And as you both stare at each other, a few tears of laughter streaming down your faces, you realize just how lucky you are to have someone like Levi by your side—someone who knows you inside and out, who can make you laugh even in the darkest of times, and who is always there to wipe away your tears, whether they're from laughter or something else entirely.
The moment stretches between you, filled with unspoken words and hints of tension that seem to hang in the air like a delicate tapestry, woven from the threads of friendship and maybe something underlying more. As Levi's hand brushes away the tear from your cheek, you reminisce from when he cupped your cheek when facing the shock of winning.
You feel a fluttering in your chest, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the cool night air as you feel your eyelids become jaded.
His touch lingers, the pad of his thumb tracing a gentle path along your cheekbone, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes now fluttering closed at the sensation.
His other hand finds its way sneaking to your waist, pulling you softly a fraction closer, and you feel the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.
With a shy, tentative smile, you reach up as your hazy eyes open to meet his. Your fingers tangling in the soft strands of his jet-black hair. The gesture is instinctual, a silent invitation that speaks volumes more than words ever could.
Yeah, you'd had your hands in his hair for multiple shots in Attack on Titan, and as much as it was a familiar feeling, it was one way more intimate.
Levi's eyes darken slightly at the touch, his gaze dropping to your lips before flickering back up to meet yours, seeking permission with his eyes.
You can feel your heart pound in your chest as you nod, the movement barely exaggerated but enough to convey your consent. And then, finally, he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels warm; it was worth the wait.
It starts slow, a gentle exploration of lips and breath, each touch sending sparks flying through you like fireworks. You can't think of anything but him, Levi, and how his lips touch yours.
His hand cups your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring, while the other settles at the small of your back, drawing you closer until there's barely an inch of space between you.
The kiss deepens, fueled by a growing hunger that seems to consume you both, a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment. Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer, while his grip on your waist tightens, anchoring you to him as if afraid to let go.
The both of you pause for a moment, catching your breath but not making any move to interrupt the position you're in. As Levi grips your waist tightly, he pulls you in for a kiss.
For a moment, the world falls away, leaving just the two of you suspended in a bubble of time and space, a universe unto yourselves where nothing else matters except the warmth of each other's touch and the softness of each other's lips.
You slightly move your head to the right, permitting him to go deeper than it already is. He gets the message, lips moving together, faster, as if they were made to be locked on one another.
And oh, do you wish you could last here in this moment forever.
Just as suddenly as it began, the "spell" is broken by the discreet click of a camera shutter from somewhere inside. You pull away, breathless and flushed, your eyes meeting Levi's in a silent exchange that speaks volumes more than words ever could.
Silence greets you both, as you both catch your breath for the second time. You ignore the camera, only focusing on what's more important. Levi breaks first, grinning as he stares at you up and down, then moves his eyes to peer up.
"Guess we should have checked for paparazzi," Levi murmurs, a playful glint in his eyes as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face that fell.
You laugh softly, the sound a mix of nerves and excitement as you lean against him, arms wrapping around his neck. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around your waist tightly. In the stillness of it all, you can feel the steady beat of his heart. "Yeah," you agree, your voice barely above a whisper. "But no regrets."
"None at all," he confirms, his arms giving you one more reassuring squeeze.
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The next morning when you wake up, you feel as if your head is about to pound out of your head. It's like you can still hear the remnants of champagne and laughter (and multiple shots sitting in the back of your throat that you drank down) You turn annoyed to find your phone buzzing relentlessly on the nightstand.
Squinting, you pick it up to find a barrage of messages and missed calls. The top one from Hange captures your attention with its flurry of emojis and exclamation points.
[glasses]: "YOU TWO ARE TRENDING!!! BTW, when TFFF did this happen OMG!!!!
Attached is a link to a gossip site, the headline screaming about the 'intimate moment caught between AOT stars at the Oscars after-party.' The photo shows you and Levi on the balcony, mid-kiss, a moment that felt intensely private now splashed across the internet.
Your heart sinks a bit at the intrusion but warms at the memory. You knew this was bound to happen, but couldn't it have waited a day or two? You're about to type a response when another message from Hange pops up.
[glasses]: "Prepare for paparazzi madness today! 😂 And call me! Need ALLLL the deets!!!!!!!"
You toss the phone aside, landing on your bed as you groan into your pillow. The weight of the newfound public scrutiny settling in. But then you remember Levi's lips on yours, the genuine connection in his eyes, and you can't help but slightly smile.
No matter what the public says or thinks, last night you found a new depth to your relationship with Levi, one that went beyond cameras and scripts. And for now, that was enough to face whatever the day would bring.
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@siythn all rights reserved!
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pukanavis · 6 hours
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Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1
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ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.
Fuyume: Excuse me?
Are there any fairy tales here…?
Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?
Thank you for your help.
~...♪
(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)
(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)
(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)
(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)
(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)
(This story is another one that Yume adores.)
(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)
…♪
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Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?
You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.
Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?
How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?
Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?
That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.
Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪
Huh? That’s not the issue?
Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.
Here he was thinking you were a nice person.
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Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.
And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?
You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…? 
Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪
Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?
It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.
Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪
What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪
If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.
Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.
…♪
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Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?
Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.
Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else. 
Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst. 
Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?
—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”
Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.
Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.
In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.
It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪
The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.
After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—
With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—
Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.
Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.
After everything, the final wish she makes is—
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Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!
Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.
At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—
Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.
After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.
You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?
Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.
—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”
During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness. 
Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.
For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.
Huh? Does Yume love Esu?
It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.
But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.
—The amethyst already shattered long ago.
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acourtofthought · 2 days
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Regarding Lucien’s scars. I think it’s basically a headcanon in the fandom that Lucien still has the scars on his back from being whipped, but if those are present in canon too, that could be interesting. Howeverrrr… the facial scar must be kind of a big deal for Lucien. Amarantha attacked him 50ish years ago and then within a few days she organized that masquerade ball “in Lucien’s honor” - the masked theme was a scheme to help him basically hide what she did to his face. Then the masks were plastered to the faces of everyone in Spring Court because Tamlin didn’t accept to sleep with Amarantha. So here’s Lucien, hiding his scars for 50 years no matter how uncomfortable the whole mask situation may have been… but now his facial scar that he cannot hide anywhere (unlike Azriel’s hands) is just in full view for anyone who looks at him. I think there is no question about it. He must be self conscious about it, especially since he thinks Elain is the most beautiful female he has ever seen and she doesn’t reciprocate anything yet. People have been writing about it here on tumblr recently but I really hope SJM explores Lucien’s character from this perspective too. I assume he must feel very inadequate compared to Elain. She has so much (family, friends, connected to the IC, safety and security, beauty, etc.), whereas Lucien refers to himself as a whole lot of nothing. He doesn’t have a home or even a court, he’s basically all alone in the fae world, his closest allies are two humans who so far don’t have much power or influence in Prythian. I assume he is probably also unhappy with his looks after such a traumatic experience. I hope SJM explores this, I think that would be a really cool addition to Elucien’s healing journey. Even though Lucien is quite snarky and cocky outwardly, his inner monologue seems very self conscious. Ahhh SJM give us the angstttttt
I AGREE!!!!!! I think while there are sincere aspects of Lucien's personality that are (hahaha, I just accidentally typed snocky which was my brain getting confused on whether I wanted to type snarky or cocky first) snarky and cocky, I also feel it's a default mechanism too. Lucien is known to take care in his appearance and he is aware of appearances. Even in book once he was a bit of a fashionista, commenting on how Feyre's tunic wasn't as pretty as a dress and being amazed at how positively fae she looked when she did finally put one on. There's also this: Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this" - he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-" surely we're not so miserable to look at. Lucien must be constantly aware of others looking at him and I'm guessing he's never sure if it's about the eye or if his scars are unappealing to them. For someone who does care about appearances, whose job it is to talk to High Lords and make friends to be a successful emissary, there is definitely an inner discomfort he's trying to brush off through his nonchalance and jokes about his appearance. I think you're right. Elain is beautiful to the point that people talk. Eris somehow heard across courts that Lucien's mate is a real beauty. She had heiresses jealous of her at barely thirteen. Her mother commented that if her beauty held, she'd be able to secure them a decent match on the marriage market (Elain was 11). So Lucien comes along and not only is he given this super special, sacred bond with her but she turns out to be the most beautiful female he'd ever seen all while knowing that she's in love with someone else. And there he is, with no home, no family name, a scar running down his face and one eye. I would take Lucien in a second and we know that many in the ACOTAR world reference his good looks but you can see how he would struggle with his appearance. You can see how Elain literally took his breath away and she did not seem effected by him (I imagine we'll find out that wasn't the truth in her POV but it's how he perceived it at the time). He thinks she doesn't want him or need him and I definitely think we're going to find that he's been feeling very insecure about her perception of his physical appearance.
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emilybahu · 3 days
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I love 9-1-1 so much!
I have fallen in love with tv shows before, watching episodes religiously as they aired weekly. 9-1-1 has been different for me though, it’s become more like an obsession. In some ways that’s bad, it’s consuming my mind a lot of times and it’s distracting me from other things I need to get done. However, really getting into the fandom of this show has also been wonderful for me, it’s made me so happy, actually getting involved with other fans and talking to people the last couple months has been so fun! You all are amazing, funny, talented people and I’m truly grateful that I’ve been able to interact with you!
Now, I’ve heard about some toxicity within the fandom, Buddie and BuckTommy shippers turning against each other and fighting about what’s best for the characters. (Which btw, isn’t really up to us anyway)
I personally haven’t seen a lot of that, who knows, maybe I’m just ignoring it because I don’t want to see it. Either way I always try to keep a very open and and neutral stance when it comes to shipping. I let myself enjoy the stories, the edits, the fan art, and the speculation. However, I also try to stay grounded in the reality of what’s happening in the movie/book/tv show.
When it comes to 9-1-1 right now, between Buddie and BuckTommy I’m not picking sides. I like both ships the same, and I don’t think that’s gonna change any time soon. I really, really enjoy both ships! (Plus the fan fiction for both are amazing, so I’m LIVING)
Buddie is part of the reason that I started watching in the first place, Buck and Eddie are my favorite characters. I love them both to death, and regardless of their relationship status they have something special, no one can deny that! Their friendship is beautiful and deep, they do truly love each other, they’re family, they will always be there for each other whether or not they end up in a romantic relationship. I’m honestly just happy to see them together in any capacity. And yes, I will happy, overjoyed even, if they decide to make Buddie cannon, but I’ll also be happy if their relationship remains as it is.
As far as Buck and Tommy go I was surprised when the kiss happened, but OH MY GOD… I was totally there for it! I’m actually really happy with this storyline so far, (even if the second hand embarrassment nearly killed me during the first date)I think that they’ll be great together, I really can’t wait to see them getting to know each other more! Wherever this goes, I’m here for it! I’m excited to see Buck explore his bisexuality with Tommy, and learn about himself through this relationship. I’m also excited to learn more about Tommy! And if they don’t end up being very long term, I really hope that they stay friends.
I’m really enjoying being into a ship that’s canon for once, it makes me really happy. I don’t think there’s ever been a ship (apart from these ones) that I’ve been into that have even had a remote chance of becoming cannon (Stucky… my first love!)
Anyway, I digress, the writers and the actors KNOW these characters, we know that if something felt off it the story, they’d want to do right by the characters. We know for a fact how much Oliver and Ryan love Buck and Eddie, and if it feels right and true to them Buddie will happen. If it doesn’t feel right to put them in a romantic relationship, to me, it’s fine because regardless we have these two men with an absolutely beautiful and meaningful friendship, and I’m always here for that!
All of this to say, all this fighting about “who’s right for who” isn’t doing anyone any good. I mean we’re all in this fandom because we love this show RIGHT!? Being on platforms like this is meant to bring us TOGETHER!
SO WHY THE HELL ARE SOME OF US TRYING TO RIP EACH OTHER APART BECAUSE WE HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS ON A DAMN SHIP!?
Everyone is entitled to their own opinions after all… so yeah, share your opinion, just don’t be rude about it. Putting someone down because they disagree with you doesn’t make you right… it just makes you mean. It scares people away, maybe makes them feel like they’re not safe in this community. I’ve seen it a couple times too, with myself and others, being afraid to make a post because of the possibility of hate.
In my experience you’re meant to feel safe in a fandom, in a community because you’re sharing your love for something with others who love it just as much as you do! We should love each other like we love these characters!
To conclude, all I need is for our boys to be happy, that’s really all we should care about here anyway. It shouldn’t necessarily matter who’s dating who, as long as they’re HAPPY! I’m really just along for the ride, I’m here for whatever they decide to do with Buddie and/or BuckTommy in the future. Buck and Eddie are my loves, and we barely know Tommy, but I’m starting to like him already, as long as they’re happy, I am too!
Thank you for reading my TedTalk…
Sorry if it doesn’t sound completely coherent, stringing words together isn’t always my strong suit…🫠
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homemadeaxolotl · 2 days
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Obey Me x TWST Chapter 2
[Back In The Devildom]
"What do you mean they're gone?! What did you do, Solomon?!"
Lucifer had lost his shit and his brothers were just as pissed, all of them in agreement for once, which was concerning. Diavolo was standing behind everyone, simply listening as Barbatos stood by his side, remaining calm despite the icy glare leveled at the sorcerer.
Before it could get too loud, Diavolo stepped forward, looking serious as everyone stepped back. Diavolo then walked over to Solomon and stood in front of him as the prince spoke in a scarily quiet voice. "Where's (Y/N), Solomon?"
Solomon sighed and shrugged as he looked at Diavolo. "If I knew where my apprentice was, I would have said so already." "What happened?" Diavolo's voice was sharp as he kept staring at Solomon, showing that he was just as irritated as the rest of the demons were.
"Well, I wanted to test a spell that should have just made them extremely small, but I must have read something wrong. I doubt it, though." Solomon tried sounding confident, but it was obvious that even he was getting nervous.
"Where did you find this spell?" Satan sounded eerily calm as he stared coldly at Solomon. Solomon cleared his throat and smiled at Satan as he handed the avatr of wrath an ancient spellbook with a neon pink sticky note sticking out of the top. Satan then carefully flipped to the page with everyone's eyes on him. Once Satan read what was on the page, he growled and shoved the book into Asmodeus' hands before slamming Solomon against the wall. "You moron! That spell doesn't make someone smaller!"
Lucifer forced Satan back, much to his irritation, as Asmodeus gasped dramatically and stared at Solomon in horror. "You sent our precious (Y/N) to another world?!"
The room fell into total silence as all the demons in the room stared at Solomon. It was so quiet that a pin could be heard, but before anyone could freak out (more than Satan and Asmo did, anyway), Diavolo spoke calmly and coldly, keeping a level head. "Solomon, you will be staying out of this. we can find a way to bring (Y/N) back."
Solomon actually looked alarmed when he heard Diavolo's words as he tried defending himself, but Diavolo wasn't having any of it. Diavolo held a hand up to silence Solomon as he spoke coldly. "You are not allowed to help us. We cannot risk messing up and you cannot be trusted currently."
With that, Lucifer and his brothers headed back to the House of Lamentation and Diavolo and Barbatos went deeper into the castle, leaving Solomon all alone in the main hall, with his only option being to go back to Purgatory Hall, regretting sending his apprentice away on accident as he tried to figure out how he was going to break the news to Simeon, Luke, and Raphael.
No one was going to be happy with Solomon and he, oddly enough, wasn't happy to be on everyone's shit list.
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Alright, this is gonna be the last chapter before finals week. It was a shorter chapter, but I'll try to make the chapters after this a little longer. I'll post the 3rd chapter either the week after finals or the week after that.
It might be a bit early to say this, but thank you for all the support I've gotten for this fic so far. It's only in its early stages, but everyone has been so kind to me and so eager for more, which makes me excited to write more, so thank you!
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Taglist: @axvfr @energy-addict
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nebbyy · 23 hours
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Hi! Could you please do a part two to the lester/apollo x reader fic you posted?
Apollo x reader - Eternal Bonds
A/N: thank you so much for your request, anon! Sorry if this took a bit more than the time I usually take to write my fics, but as I said the past weeks have been really tiring for me🥹 
Anyway, I hope you like this fic, I personally like it better than the first part, but as always let me know your thoughts on it<3
Aaaand as always, painting is "Springtime" by Pierre Auguste Cot for anyone interested!
Summary: Having regained his immortality and prestige, all that remained for Apollo was to stabilise something in his life was one thing: you. It might sound easy, but he honestly would disagree.
Warning: it is implied that Athena has a great admiration for reader, but they’re not their child. This reconnects with my own personal thoughts on how Athena’s cabin should work, so the goddess’ relationship with reader in this fic should be seen as the same as hers and Odysseus’ (if you want further explanations on what their dynamic was let me know:))) Also I must say, I haven’t read any of the trials of Apollo books in ages so I took it as an occasion to interpret Apollo’s return to Olympus how I see it more fit to this little scenario of mine.
And lastly, not a warning but this fic starts just a bit before the end of the first part, if anyone was wondering:)
Word count: 3813 (longest fic yet omgg)
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Apollo stood there, standing on the elevator that would take him home. How strange, he had dreamed of this moment for months, eager to return to his home and be welcomed as a glorious hero, with restored dignity, free of the mortal shell in which he had been confined all this time. He had imagined himself proud, tall and triumphant as he entered the gates of Olympus.
Yet as he stood on his way home, he could not prevent the continuous movement of his foot against the elevator floor. There was no trace in him of the security typical of a hero, in him at that time reigned only the same anxiety and nervousness that had characterized his mortal form. First it was Apollo inside Lester’s body, now Apollo had his body back, but Lester was inside of him. That Lester had become an integral part of him? Or maybe it didn’t add up, maybe it was always there, unable to make its voice heard under the omnipresent spirit of Apollo.
Okay, maybe he was rambling, but he couldn’t help it when he felt like his nerves were about to make him explode!
The point was, he wasn’t just going home, he was going to convince his father, the king of the gods, the exact same person who kicked him out of Olympus, to make the love of his life immortal so that he could stay by his side for eternity. It was not a situation in which one could easily remain connected to reality.
Finally, the elevator slowed down its run, until it stopped completely and opened its doors with a characteristic "ding".
Slowly, one step at a time, Apollo stepped out of the elevator and advanced to the throne room, walking up the path that would take him directly there. His performance had an air of regal composure, but it was nothing more than a method of masking his tense nerves. He walked until he reached the first areas inhabited by the Olympians and some other immortal creature.
"Apollo? I didn’t know you were already back. We thought it would take you millennia to make it up to Zeus!!" He hadn’t heard it in a while, but there was no way he could ever forget the sound of Nike’s voice. The winged goddess came to meet him flying curiously, also attracting the attention of the entities that had not paid attention to the scene so far.
Some approached, recognizing the face of the beloved god, while others ran to announce his return to the major gods. First came Hestia, who with that loving family attitude, embraced him gently. "Oh Apollo, you were so good! I never doubted you could do it." 
"I can’t say that with as much confidence, but I must congratulate you, Apollo, you have exceeded all my expectations." It was the authoritarian voice of Athena who spoke, who wore a smile on her face, a more unique than rare event. Apollo was so surprised by this unusual compliment from her that he hardly paid any attention to her questioning his chances of success.
For a moment he felt his eyes almost come out of his skull when a large hand was planted on his shoulder to pat him. " Well done, little brother, aren’t you as soft as you look, eh?" Massaging his shoulder, Apollo smiled faintly at the mountain that was his half-brother. "Thanks, Ares, it means a lot I guess..."
He was about to receive the coup de grâce, if it were not for Aphrodite, unconscious of her intervention, she had put herself right in the middle, affectionately placing one hand on Apollo’s shoulder while the other not very secretly found place in that of Ares, to the delight of Hephaestus who observed snorting away from the scene, but thumbs up at the sun god to express his joy.
He didn’t know how long this lasted, or exactly how many gods surrounded him at that point, but when Nike was about to hold a banquet in his honor he couldn’t control his reaction: "No wait!" His tone sounded so panicked that he caught everyone unawares. For a moment the gods almost had the sensation of speaking a mortal, so much his voice had squeaked in the air. Realizing that he had drawn even more attention to you, as if it were even possible in that situation, he gently shrugged his shoulders, to mitigate the gaze of the Olympians his nerves more tense than ever.
"Um I-" he made a false cough to try to regain his posture before starting to speak again, illuminating his companions with a dazzling smile, "sorry, mortal’s pollen, am I right? Anyway, much as I would be... ecstatic to attend a banquet, I’m afraid I must first have a discussion with Zeus about some... matters of utmost urgency! If you’ll excuse me, now.”
With little pomp, he made his way through the crowd stunned at his unusual behavior. "Poor thing, the Earth has changed him." Someone shook their head resigned, someone else did not even notice his abrupt exit, simply saying goodbye and congratulating him as he got smaller and smaller in the distance. The attention to him lasted just before each god went for their merry way. After all, when you have a whole eternity to live, there are few things left for you for a long time.
Everyone resumed doing what they were doing before Apollo’s return, all except Athena. It was in her nature to predict the rival’s moves- or rather, the moves of anyone around her. She may not have been born with the ability to see the future, but her intellect allowed her to come to conclusions almost as apt as an oracle. Silent as night, he followed the solar god, whose aura seemed to be clouded by some heavy burden.
The closer he got to the heavy bronze doors of the throne room, the lighter his head felt, as if his brain had gone numb. He was mathematically certain that he had NEVER felt so nervous in his entire existence. Not even his many figures in human form could compare to how he was feeling at the time. But it’s not like he could back out now, not after all the way he’s come, not after promising you not to leave your side. Not now, that had arrived in front of the doors.
He didn’t even have to knock, or announce his own name. No use, Zeus was waiting for him. Apollo took a breath, pumping his chest to emulate some sense of confidence before making his way into the vast hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked around and looked at the empty thrones, each with small inlays reminiscent of its owner. He passed by his own throne, and a sense of longing pervaded him to the thought that in no time he would have sat there again. Maybe you could convince Zeus to put a similar throne for you next to his own..
No, stay focused, Apollo, first of all he had to convince Zeus to make them immortal in the first place.
Without even realizing it, he was so taken by his own thoughts, he had reached the end of the room, finding himself a few feet from the king of Olympus. Now he could not afford to show himself weak, fearful. Come on, it had to come easy for him, he was also the god of the theater after all! As if a thread pulled him from above, he felt himself erect tall and proud, his chest out, his muscular back straight; a slight halo of light surrounded him, reconferendogli a little of that shine that has always distinguished him from the rest of the gods. He smiled at his father before bowing down gracefully. "It’s good to see you again, Father."
“Apollo, I see it took you no time to get used to your old life once more. I trust you have learned your lesson.”
“Indeed, father. And I came here to thank you for it all. It was… better than I expected.” Zeus lifted a brow suspiciously, eyeing his son as if trying to make out what’s in his mind just by his appearance. “Mmh I hardly believe that you only came here to thank me for your punishment.” Okay, even if he had second thoughts, it was DEFINITELY too late to back out. Yet despite the seriousness of the situation, Apollo no longer felt the same anxiety that had accompanied him throughout the climb to Olympus. He felt powerful, confident in his words, in his actions, but above all confident in you. He knew that if ever there was a mortal worthy of immortality, it was most certainly you. He looked up at his father, this time his smile had become less dazzling, almost a little nervous.
“Heh, you’re not wrong, father. I came here to make a request.”
“Depends. What is it that you desire?”
“How do you make a demigod immortal?”
Total silence fell in the room. The expression of Zeus was intelligible, and not being able to read the true emotions of Apollo, moreover in such a silent environment did not help to calm his nervousness. Zeus slowly blinked, covering his icy eyes for a moment before opening them again as he breathed in just as slowly. " Few mortals have earned the gift of immortality throughout history. He must deserve that honor with out-of-the-ordinary feats," he paused, as if to reflect, then resumed speaking, in a neutral but glacial and authoritative tone, "this is not impossible, but I count on one bare hand how many times a mortal has been added to the abode of the immortals over the millennia."
"I am aware of this, Father, and that is precisely why I believe that the person I speak of is the most deserving of this honor." Zeus did not answer. Not immediately, at least. He seemed confused and intrigued at the same time, as if he had not expected such a response. " My son, what do you mean by that?" Apollo could not avoid the smile that spread on his face having an opportunity to talk about your countless qualities, which in his eyes were endless. It was one of his favorite activities even when he was mortal, actually.
"You see father, they are a demigod of qualities worthy only of an immortal god. They are strong and wise, although they are still at a young age. They fear nothing but the limits imposed by Olympus, which they have served since the day they set foot inside Camp Half-Blood."He took a little dramatic pause, perhaps expecting to be interrupted by the divine father, but he gave no sign of wanting to intervene in words; he preferred to remain silent, peering at his son while he justified his reasons for satisfying his will.
"And they are beautiful, Father. They shine with a beauty far beyond that of an ordinary mortal. Even on the battlefield, soiled with blood and filth of all kinds, their beauty always resembled that of Aphrodite and Eros and all the gods of all the Pantheons of this world who possess the gift of supreme beauty." To this the father could not suppress a snort of derision, not trusting the words of the son in fact of beauty, "If I remember well such words were spoken by you also for Hyacinth, and before him Daphne, and before her still such a long series of river nymphs and mortal beings that I lost count."
Apollo lowered his head in resignation, sighing gently before looking up to speak again, "I realize this, Father, but I mention their beauty only because it would be a crime against all that is right to omit. However, it remains only one of the many qualities that characterize them, which none of my past lovers can say. But that is not the greatest reason why I consider them worthy of immortality."
"Speak openly then, you know I don’t like to wait." The blond-haired god nodded and took another step towards the king of the gods, his eyes even brighter than before, inflamed by his longing desire to obtain what he most desired in his entire existence. You, at his side. Forever.
"You see, they have done a great service to the goddess of wisdom and the manual arts. They have done the will of Athena and have done such glorious deeds that they have increased her honor. I myself was able to attend only some of their quests, but I assure you that they were so great as to justify the support and blessing of a goddess so hardly affable." To these words, Zeus seemed completely incredulous. In Olympus it was well known that Athena was the beloved daughter of the king of the gods, who always kept her close to him and always made all her will an uncompromising law. It seemed impossible to him that any mortal had been able to win the favor of the goddess, and he strongly doubted the veracity of Apollo’s claim.
The young god opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a voice echoing from behind him, "As much as the idea of supporting Apollo’s petty whims, this time I must agree with him." Athena had followed Apollo to the throne room, suspicious of his strange behavior. He had to be honest, Apollo literally had no idea what to say at that moment; he did not expect to get to that point with his interview and certainly did not expect Athena’s support in his intent. But this was a real blessing, for she herself could bear witness to your worth.
She only gave him a scowling look, like a silent admonition to avoid yelling at him, pick up your mouth from the ground and be a god, genius! But his silver eyes were enough to relay the message, and after a moment Apollo had returned to his usual divine bearing. She blinked slowly before turning her eyes again to Zeus.
"Y/N Y/L is a demigod of undeniable quality, which also left me pleasantly surprised. It is true, they have diligently served Olympus and have especially served me, and I have let them fight in my name precisely because their wit deserved such honor. If only it were possible, I would claim them as my own child, for only twice in my existence have I met two mortal men of equal virtue, and those mortals were the king of Ithaca and your son Hercules, to whom you rightly granted immortality.
You know that I do not speak in vain when I express my opinion, and that is why I consider them worthy to also obtain the gift of immortality, especially when to these incredibly successful quests are added the love of a god and the admiration of another." 
Now Zeus observed the two with two comically wide eyes, mostly due to the unexpected intervention of Athena. Even Apollo could not hide his amazement from that sudden help, but he certainly did not complain at all. Three beats passed, then Zeus cleared his voice and I speak in a more serene tone than before, though still authoritarian, "Very well, if you yourself, Athena, consider this mortal worthy of so many honors I want to believe you. Your lover will be granted immortality, Apollo. This will happen at sundown, when you bring your chariot back here to Olympus. Lead them with you, and they can live forever here with you."
"Yes!!" Apollo threw a fist in the air for joy, a small habit he had taken in his stay on earth, but soon after he realized that perhaps it was not quite the right place to give free rein to his happiness, judging by the unimpressed face of Zeus, "Um, I apologize. I thank you father, for this wonderful gift. I assure you that you will not regret it!" He slowly stepped back as he spoke to him with the biggest smile on his face, extending his arms and bending his knees in a farewell bow. Zeus, for the first time in what seemed like centuries, smiled at Apollo and nodded slightly.
"Enjoy this concession of mine, my son, and may it remain in your mind as your reward for having demonstrated your qualities, even without the intervention of your divinity."
"I’ll never forget it. They’ll never let me!" With some other ceremonious thanksgiving, which they had little given the haste and irrepressible joy of the sun god, Apollo rushed down to Olympus, hastening as much as possible to reach his beloved in the place where they had met. He looked at a clock to see how much time he had left. 7 P.M., he still had some time left. He ran like a madman, until he saw the entrance of the familiar Campo approaching. He ignored everyone around him, his perplexed children, his disappointed fangirls, his friends not too surprised to see him running like a bullet through the field, with the biggest smile they’d ever seen on him. Only Meg had a vague feeling about what exactly happened, but even if she did, she didn’t say anything and just looked at him smiling before going back to her things.
Apollo entered the forest next to the Camp and continued to run. Lucky he was back in his cool form, if he was still Lester would have collapsed out of breath for half an hour. And then finally, he finally arrived at your rendezvous point. She found you there, gently lying on moss, slumbering from the weariness of the activities at the Camp and from the worries you had freed yourself of the previous day, in that exact same place, when you had finally found your beloved. Apollo was quivering, thinking how you would react to the awakening, among the golden blankets of his heavenly palace. What would you have said seeing your body invigorated and illuminated by immortality. What would you have felt seeing that his declarations of eternal love were not fallacious, but promises that he had dedicated himself body and soul to keep.
He gently picked you up, taking care not to wake you. He invoked his golden chariot and rode with you to your new home. He kept you close, as much as he was physically allowed by the confined space. The journey did not last long, being facilitated by the godly transport; once arrived right in front of the golden gates of the Apollonian abode, he took you back in his bridal style, leading you to his- your bed. You were stretched out just as he saw your skin begin to shimmer gently, its color gradually became richer and filled with eternally vital sap. He stood by your side, filling your neck and shoulders with kisses as he crouched behind you, eagerly awaiting your rebirth as a deity.
In the morning you woke up with a strong light that dazzled you. You thought it was Apollo, who since he had returned to his true form had regained all the lustre of his nature. But no, it wasn’t him; it was you, whose skin emanated a faint light that bounced against the various gold inlays that were in the bedroom. Yeah, you didn’t remember falling asleep in a bed, the last thing you remembered was lying in the forest moss while you waited for Apollo. Wait a minute, this isn’t even a room in Camp Half-Blood! 
You did it to snap up to the alert, but then you stopped when you felt the familiar touch of Apollo caressing your shoulder, sliding towards the back of your neck and passing through your hair, which had been twice as long as the day before. Normally you would have yawned, but it didn’t seem physically possible to experience any fatigue in the state you were in. You felt... almighty. You finally turned your attention away from your body and turned it towards Apollo, who was already looking at you with a loveless look.
"Good morning, beautiful." You smiled though still confused by the situation you were in. Tempting your luck, you took a sigh and then you spoke, your melodic, honey-sweet voice even though you just woke up, "'Chicken, where are we?"
"We are in Olympus my dear. I promised you that I would not forget you, that I would love you forever. And I meant every single word I said, which is why I had a little conversation with Zeus earlier, and well... let’s just say with a little help I was able to convince him to give you immortality." He said it with the biggest and most satisfied smile I’d ever seen on him, and meanwhile he hugged you and held you and caressed you all over his body, as if to confirm himself that all this was true.
You were utterly speechless, incredulous at what this god had just done in the name of love for you, but at the same time you felt a warm feeling pervading you from within, filling you with joy and happiness, as if that of him had infected you like a disease. You held your hands to his face and laughed in disbelief and said, "You’re the biggest crazy idiot I’ve ever met, Lester!" 
He laughed with you, feeling pervaded by this joy that moved him from within, almost pushing him to tears by the power of these feelings. Holding you tighter, she stroked your silky soft hair as she chuckled happily, "I guess you’ll have to get used to the gold and clouds here." " Still better than a bunk bed to share in five."
Laughing together, you held each other so long as you had time, before he had to take off and lead the sun across the sky. Before he got on the golden chariot, he touched your face with his bronze hands and kissed you gently. " I still can’t believe I’m gonna be able to kiss these lips forever, Y/N." You smiled at him before you grabbed him by the shoulder to push him towards you, and kissed him again. " Then hurry up and leave, so you’ll be back soon and I’ll have a chance to convince you that everything is real." Winking at him, he laughed loudly and heartily, a more melodic sound than any lyre or flute.
"Then I shall not be long in returning to your arms, my lord" And so he departed towards the horizon, and you smiled as you watched him disappear into the sky, thinking with satisfaction of the world that will look up to him with longing and admiration, knowing that he will never again stop for anyone but you, once his daily duties are over. 
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hiyyihrts · 2 days
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It’s so funny how people have a problem with Colin being in a brothel and having a threesome when Benedict literally had one in season 3, and Anthony was with Sienna, wanted to take Colin to a brothel and was sleeping around before he fell for Kate. I know it’s different for anyone, but I couldn’t care less who Colin has been with in the show, as we will get him besotted with Penelope. Also I think a lot of people have multiple partners and a history before settling down with the one they intend to be serious with, and that’s the case here.
Also, if you are a member of the Polin subreddit and do not mind major spoilers, you can find the entire break down of the first episode from season 3 from the Australia screening.
It doesn’t necessarily matter what the brothers did or didn’t do, I personally feel it’s a bit out of character for show Colin since he’s never really shown interest before (to my knowledge). Book Colin on the other hand is an entirely different story.
And it makes no difference if Colin has experience or not to me, I just think it could’ve been a prime opportunity to have a male lead who’s not that experienced with women and who has only heard things most from his brothers. Bc I find it hard to believe that EVERY man of that era was out fucking left and right we had to have had a few virgins mixed in 😭😭 but I think it could’ve been an opportunity for him and Pen to explore intimacy and those acts together and think it could’ve been a very sweet exploration of their sexualities if that makes sense. Bc that’s also nice to see in the romance genre since it’s such a rarity as it is, even in regular shows that aren’t period pieces.
And I avoid Reddit like the plague I’ve never been a fan of it tbh 😭. I just see what ppl send me.
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my-favourite-zhent · 3 days
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Fortune and Favour
Hello folks, a new AU long fic for you.
Summary:
AU set in Luskan 1480DR. Rugan has assumed leadership over the Coin Spinners gang and taken the name Clearlight. When a Waterdhavian noble comes snooping around for Illuskan Netherese relics under the gang's headquarters Rugan steps up to put them in their place. What he instead finds is the chance at an amazing payday and an unexpected prize.
Notes:
This AU is straight out of the filthy mind of @fistfuloftarenths. She head canoned the idea of Rugan of Clearlight based off the screenshots of @captainsigge. Fistful also came up with a lot of the scene ideas, so I'm bordering on being her ghostwriter at this point. Also thank you to @dustdeepsea for helping me with the title and summary. Big shout out to all three for beta reading for me. These fics are pretty much written for the Zhentil Keep Perverts at this point.
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Banner by the lovely @coreene
Chapter One below the cut or here on AO3
Chapter One
1480 15 Uktar
Eden of Clearlight was dead, had been for many months now. While she had rallied many of the other gangs to the Coin Spinners banner, she had lost almost as many men in the ensuing chaos. The Coin Spinners had been left adrift, weakened, directionless and Rugan had seen an opportunity.
He’d only been a lieutenant in a lower ranking gang – so low its name does not bear recounting – when Eden had pulled them all into the fold. But now she and most of her officers were dead. There had been a few others that vied for leadership, and all had found a knife in their back. Either each other’s or Rugan’s.
So it came to be that at barely twenty-four Rugan had become the new head of the Coin Spinners, and with it acquired the title Clearlight. So named for the temple-come-fortress that housed them. He had struck decisively at the other criminal organisations before they had gotten their feet back under them. Most had survived but in weakened states. There were few left who would dare challenge him now. Which was why Amnos’ information came as a surprise.
“Some girl’s been asking about you down in the Cutlass,” the redheaded man had said as the pair stood in front of the altar to Tymora that marked the centre of the fortress.
“That right? Looking to get recruited?” Rugan drawled in his lilting Luskan accent. He tilted his head as he spoke, tied back flaxen hair catching gold in the sunlight that trickled through the stained-glass window overhead. It was said to be the last glass window in Luskan, and for which the temple and now Rugan derived their name.
“Doesn't seem like, looked a bit posh to be joining up.” Amnos scratched his beard pensively.
“A noble?” His eyebrow quirked. That was interesting. Not that he had any love for nobles but he’d never heard of one stooping to joining a street gang, especially not in Luskan of all places.
“Seemed so, dressed nice and spoke real educated-like too. Southern accent it sounded like.”
“Who’s she affiliated with?” The thought of a southerner stirring up trouble did give him pause. Kalen Dren, one of the parties who had been involved in the annihilation of the Luskan gangs, had been from Waterdeep and had since returned there. Any locals would’ve known to stay out of Rugan's way.
Amnos shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like she knows the local gangs, we haven’t seen her make contact with anyone. She’s just been reading books when she’s not harassing the locals.”
“Suppose we should pay this little interloper a visit then. We can’t have just anyone trading on my good name.” He smiled shark-like.
+++++
The Cutlass was one of the busier inns. In the city’s heyday it had been a sight to behold. Still turned a profit as it was, but much like Luskan it’s glory days were long past. The timbers were old and rotted, and its windows were made of thin sheets of animal horn rather than glass.
A nervous silence had fallen over the taproom when Rugan and Amnos entered and he felt a smile play at the corner of his mouth. There was power there, in being feared. Rugan’s exploits against the other guilds had been cutthroat and his reputation well earned. He had little interest in the common folk though. These customers had no reason to fear him as long as they didn’t cross him, but there was no need to tell them that.
He nodded at Amnos to wait for him down here before ascending the stairs to the inn’s rooms. The girl had been under watch for a few days now and his men had informed him of which room was hers. He knocked at the door. Whatever this little noble wanted, he'd be sure to send them packing.
The door swung open and there she stood. Little was right, she barely came up to his chest. But gods, she was beautiful. With soft raven waves cascading past her shoulders, a small but perky bust and a delicate waist that was begging to be grasped.
“Heard you've been asking around about Clearlight, lass.”
It was meant to be intimidating, well, just a touch to start. In her excitement the girl didn't seem to notice. She clasped her hands together under her chin and looked at him with wide eyes.
“You know about the Clearlight temple?” The delight in her voice was unmasked. Her eyes were sparkling, and they were lovely too, framed by thick dark lashes.
The girl’s reaction was the exact opposite of what he had intended, and he felt himself swallow unexpectedly. She grasped his hand in both of hers.
“Oh, do please come in!” She began pulling him into the room without waiting for a reply. Rugan allowed this, but not without some trepidation. Was this a trap set by a rival faction?
“I'd love to hear your opinion on the maps. It took a while to piece them together.” She ushered him towards a table that looked like the victim of a mad cartographer. Several maps were scattered over its surface, weighted down with pebbles. He could see underneath was a larger sheet that had connections between these disparate pieces drawn in.
“Now, no one source had all the sections of the undercity of course. What information we have on Netheril and Illusk is fragmented at best. But based on the complete diagrams from various other Netherese ruins we know that the general floorplan of a Netherese vault house follows a distinct pattern…” The girl had taken a seat at the table and continued to chatter on, but she had lost him a while ago. He sat down in the opposite chair, scrutinising her as she spoke. 
A thin braid encircled the crown of her head, adding a touch of order to the chaos that was her hair. Her blouse looked to be of a fine cotton, with ruffled trim along a neckline that dipped deliciously low. He admired how the swell of her breasts peaked out from beneath her top. It was cinched under her bust by a green velvet jacquard corset, laced up the front. Her pants were tan leather, they looked smooth and barely worn. Amnos had been right, entirely too posh to be a recruit. Some noble out of Baldur’s Gate or Waterdeep mayhaps?
“I keep asking about the temple but no one seems to want to talk about it. You'd think it was dedicated to Beshaba rather than Tymora with how skittish the locals have been.”
“People can be a bit superstitious here in Luskan,” he offered, inwardly grinning at his good fortune. 
She was a complete and utter fool. For all her research she had neglected to look into the local criminal organisations before coming to Luskan. Of course she didn't know that the Coin Spinners had taken the temple as their base, and that he had taken its name for his own.
“Ah, forgive my manners. I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Isolde.” She held out her hand for him to shake.
“Rugan.” He replied, taking her hand and raising it to place a kiss upon it.
She was taken aback, eyes wide with surprise.
‘Didn't think a guttersnipe like me knew how to address a noble lady, did ya?’ Rugan was both rankled by the thought and smug that he had proved her wrong. 
He noticed a blush creep over her cheeks and how she seemed to be appraising him now as if noticing him for the first time. He felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. No, it was more than surprise, she was flattered.
“P-pleased to meet you,” she managed to eke out.
“Indeed.”
Then, just as quickly, it seemed his hold on her was broken by a sudden recollection.
“Ah I almost forgot! The onion skin!”
“Onion skin?” 
But she was already out of her seat and rooting through her pack. She returned with a roll of paper that when unfurled was semi translucent. He supposed it did resemble the skin of an onion.
Carefully she placed it overtop the other maps, pinning it down based on some landmarks only she perceived. There was a map on the onion skin he realised. Tymora’s tits, this was—
“It's the blueprint for Tymora’s temple. The clerics in Waterdeep let me take a look at their copy. Took a bit of maths to get it to scale with the others but luckily the walls are mostly square. Mind you, this is from when it was built in the 1370s, there's no way to tell what it looks like now over a hundred years later. At least not short of going in yourself.”
Now this was something. It galled him to think that a map of the hideout had just been floating around in some Waterdeep temple for any preening noble to come have a little look-see.
“And these markings here?” He gestured to the map, careful to keep his tone neutral.
There were four circles and three crosses marked on the onion skin which lined up with structures on the maps below. He already had a sneaking suspicion what they were based on their locations.
“Passages down to Illusk. The circles are confirmed, cross-referenced with some old journal entries of a priestess I found in Candlekeep library.” 
She was correct, two were caved in, but the remaining pair the Coin Spinners had heavily trapped and kept watch over. Never knew what manner of sneak or beast would come up from the undercity.
“And the crosses are unconfirmed?”
“Right, I couldn't find any historical records that mention them specifically, but based on the fact that the first four correspond with the Netherese designs, I think it's safe to assume there would be a temple counterpart for the remaining three. Two of them are connected to a hidden inner chamber while the third connects to the high priest’s chambers, which would explain why they weren't widely known. I mean, it's just a hunch, but I'm fairly confident.”
She looked proud, and he supposed she had reason to be, having found three unguarded entrances to slip into his lair.
“Why would the temple builders create passages, and not just loot the undercity?”
“They may have already looted it or attempted to. But I suspect the temple's location would be particularly auspicious, sitting on top of a coin house. The number of passages also suggests this—seven was considered lucky in many human cultures.” She mused.
There was a sharp whistle and they both started from their chairs.
“Shit, the kettle.” She hurried over to the opposite table where a ceramic kettle bedecked with runes was steaming. Nobles and their magic toys.
“Would you like some tea?” She called over her shoulder.
“Oh, aye.”
Rugan took the opportunity to consider his next steps. He had come here expecting an upstart wanting to buy their way into the guild, or perhaps some imposter trading on his name. Either one he would've cowed or killed, depending on how much he disliked them. He was certainly prepared to dislike some preening noble.
But, technically she was innocent of any crime outside general nosiness. If anything it was his good luck that he had found her before some rival did. He could just take the map but that left the girl as a loose end. 
Rugan watched as she prepared two cups of tea. Killing her would be easy enough, but it would be simpler to find the entrances with her know-how.
‘Besides,’ he thought, as she tucked her hair behind her ear revealing more of her slender neck, ‘Noble or not, it would be a crime to remove such a pretty thing from the world.’
She returned with the two cups, and he noted she had left two sugar cubes on his saucer. Sugar had been a luxury in Luskan of late, seemed like more and more things were luxuries nowadays.
“My thanks.” He accepted the cup politely and dropped both cubes in before stirring. “You bring all this with you from Waterdeep?”
“Yes, that's right. Generally prefer to travel light but the merchants I know in the city were of the consensus that it’s a bit harder to get supplied in Luskan, and in any case it was just the one boat up.” She took the seat beside him and sipped at her tea.
“Not too long of a trip I hope?”
“A little more than half a tenday by galley. Not long at all.”
He nodded and took a deep draught of the tea. Rugan was no deckhand, but you don’t grow up in the city of sails without learning a thing or two about ships. A galley was one of the fastest and most expensive ships to book passage on, just one way may have run her fourty or fifty gold pieces. Definitely moneyed, maybe a merchant family out of Waterdeep? She might fetch a nice ransom. No servants though, at least none that Amnos had observed. This wasn’t entirely unusual with tourists who thought part of the fun was ‘roughing it’ . Especially if they were stingy tourists.
“I’m being rude again, I’ve forgotten to ask about your interest in the temple.” And she really did look sorry.
“Well I live there for one.”
“Live there!” She straightened in her chair. “But the clerics in Waterdeep, they said the clergy has long since abandoned Clearlight temple.”
“We’re not really associated with the Waterdeep branch. None of the large organisations have any interest in Luskan since the Spellplague. You could say we’re a bit esoteric compared to most Tymorans.” Rugan didn’t consider himself a particularly good liar, but the girl hadn’t seemed to have noticed.
She was leaning in close now, barely containing her excitement. “So you’ve been inside? You’ve seen the passageways?” He could smell her hair now, it was like jasmine and orange peels.
“Aye lass, some of them. Most are collapsed but those new ones on your map I haven’t seen before. Could be worth an investigation.” The girl was almost leaping out of her chair, this was too easy.
“Would you permit me to come look?” Her voice had already been high but it seemingly shifted a whole octave up now. “I promise not to disturb anything, and of course there would be a split of anything found down there.”
He let his features fall into a charming smile. “Well, if you're promising.” Of course the split would be highly in his favour, if he let her keep anything at all. Unlikely.
It was his lucky day, Tymora be praised. He was going to secure the fortress, possibly a payday and—he let his gaze linger on her a moment—a bit of company if he played his cards right.
She must have noticed his stare, noticed how close they were because her cheeks were reddening and it seemed like her breath was caught in her throat.
“Are you a treasure hunter, then?” Her cup was no longer steady in her hand and he gently took it from her, placing it on the table.
“N-no, just a student. I've been writing my graduation thesis on Illusk.”
“And the treasures they left behind?” He leaned in closer as well so they were mere inches apart. 
“It's the records I'm interested in.” Her voice was quieter now, it had a breathy quality to it.
“Not the coin?” She merely shook her head and he reached forward to palm her cheek. When she didn't protest, Rugan felt confident in his approach. She was younger than him, not by much, but enough that combined with a sheltered upbringing she was likely inexperienced in these things.
“Seems to me, if we're going to be working together we should get to know one another a little better. Don't you agree?”
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wantmeifyouwantme · 2 years
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HAS ANYONE READ FRIDAY BARNES???????
I legit loved those books when I was younger and still LOVE THEM
Also I headcannon that Friday is asexual and on the aromantic scale.
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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 8 months
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fire and the thud came on my spotify shuffle while me and my sister were listening to music this afternoon, and at the end of it she turns to me and goes “who was that? the lyrics sound like the kind of thing you’d write” and honestly i think it’s one of my favourite unintentional compliments i’ve ever received
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thebaffledcaptain · 8 months
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thank you heron fandom I feel very supported through this difficult time in my life (finished the book)
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blujayonthewing · 2 years
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MY SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN MADE ME WANNA RUN AWAY TO THE WOODS AND MAKE FRIENDS WITH A FALCON
[on one knee] MOVE INTO A BIG HOLLOW TREE WITH ME???
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queer-ragnelle · 2 years
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Look. I’m flattered when people ask for a link to read my WIP book. But like. I’d rather you just say “Good job!” but fantasy/historical fiction/arthurian isn’t your cup of tea from the get go, than ghost me or make up some bullshit about the Google Doc not working.
At best, I think people are more concerned with societal courtesy than being genuine (which would be less offensive, don’t pretend you’re gonna read it, especially when you fucking asked for it).
At worst, I think some (not all, but certainly a few) of these people were unprepared for the interracial queer romance I wrote at the forefront of an ensemble-riddled plot. They didn’t know how to say the book didn’t interest them without coming off like an asshole or making themselves sound stupid. (How they missed these very obvious themes is beyond me, but based on some Things Said, I suspect this is why. But I digress.)
So instead of honesty to avoid sounding stupidly assholish, these people sounded stupidly assholish by lying about the inability to open the document and refusing my suggested solutions. Just ghost me before asking for a link instead next time. Blocked.
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dorothygale123 · 6 months
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Okay, I love my book. You guys know that, right? It's a very good book. Look at all my sticky notes
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I love this book, but if there is one thing about it that drives me up the f***ing wall, it's the spelling. Now, I realize that not only is Chinese not optimized for the English alphabet, but there are several dialects and regional spellings of names of gods that complicate matters.
HOWEVER.
When you are writing a book, especially one for educational purposes, you want your readers to understand who you are talking about at any given time. So why the f*** am I seeing Fuxi referred to as "Fu Hsi" and "Fu Hi" ON THE SAME PAGE? At the VERY least, there should be an appendix which lists all the figures mentioned as well as their various titles so that a reader can look and figure out who you're talking about without having to do outside research or think you made a typo.
I don't know. I'm not exactly a scholar of the Chinese language nor do I claim to be, so maybe I'm the asshole here, but it gets confusing when I can't figure out if I already know the guy you're talking about or not. I just really needed to rant about this.
Love you, Dave!❤️
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iknowitwontwork · 11 months
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lightlark is being made into a movie?!??!?!
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inkskinned · 1 month
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okay if you're really cool about things, i can be honest with you. before you read further, decide if you're a girl's girl. if you're cool and actually cool or like not cool.
men don't talk in my book because i was fuckken tired of the way they're the center of every fucking story. i was tired of how every story takes a moment to let them talk. men can shut up for literally one fucking book.
unfortunately not everyone is cool. professionally what i usually say is i didn't want to add violence to the world. the only men in my book are abusers, so they don't get to talk. they don't get to take up space. they ruined my life, they don't get to have their words echo anymore.
because like, yeah! you find practically any story about a person surviving trauma and... there's a man at the center. men are often rescuing us from these things. a "good man" is always standing around, being a good man, proving to the victim that good men are the real men. that her experience was unique rather than universal.
the redacted text has not been taken well by all of my early readers. there is this weird, crouching growl that keeps occurring with men-of-a-certain-age. why don't we hear his side of the story?
when i sat down to write everything that happened to me, i couldn't look at the frank brutality of my abuser's words on a page and think to myself: i actually let him speak like that. i had to redact his words from the manuscript. i then left it redacted. no victim is going to read this book and hear the person who hurt them. it is a book for the victims to speak. abusers shut up challenge, forever. for eternity.
my father once told me, chuckling, i should just have a page of redaction where i let the man just finally talk. it is funny to joke about how we should make a whole page in my book about a man that hurt me. this was not the only time someone commented - it feels like you're hiding things. how do i know you're actually a victim if he doesn't get to speak?
there are books where women aren't even present. i even genuinely like some of those books. like, who doesn't like the hobbit?
i keep running into people defending this imaginary man. the default narrative is so true to some people that they will defend any man, just by virtue of the assumption - "if he's acting like that, you had to push him." certain people need definitive proof that you didn't accidentally make your partner into an abuser. they need to decide if you deserved it, because they want to be able to judge you.
which makes sense, i guess, from a hind brain perspective. if you can figure out "why" someone was cruel, you can protect yourself against it. if you defend the bully, the bully might side with you. i don't really know their explanation for feeling this about a character in a book. trust me, i wrote the guy. he is not going to protect you.
i guess i just - there was a time in my life where i desperately wanted anyone to defend me. where i could have really used someone saying holy shit are you okay instead of what did you say to make him act like that to you.
instead, over dinner, a friend-of-a-friend i just met is pouring herself wine. i heard you wrote a book, she says. she gives me the kind of chilly smile i associate with knives. i heard it's unfair to men.
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