#🔥 — › POVS & TASKS

[ashartesa]

tag drop.

[armecdertristen]

tag drop zvezdana.

[ahcfferscn]

tag dump!

[stromblessed]

Mel 🔆, Viktor 🌌, and Jayce 🔥 symbolism

SUN 🔆

Mel's association with the sun is self-evident and still mostly shrouded in mystery, though her love scene with Jayce is notable, which is overlaid with starry imagery, where her silhouette and her freckled face are compared to the cosmos. The sun is also a star. It's just the star that's closest to Runeterra and has the most influence over the world.

Mel and the Hexcore are the POVs of the scene.

Hexcore and starry imagery is more strongly and consistently associated with someone else, though!

STARS 🌟 / THE COSMOS 🌌

Viktor's blue to purple pipeline is real

But seriously, the starry/swirly shapes point toward distant stars, the cosmos, a galaxy. There is no moon in Viktor's night scenes throughout the season, only stars.

Viktor's character regresses as the season goes on (blue to purple, ready to fall into Shimmer-like magenta as his corruption nears its peak).

His hubris opens him up to some kind of corruption by the Hexcore, or by whatever - or whoever - is using the Hexcore as a gateway, like what Jinx points out. Singed as his mentor plants and encourages the lie that Viktor believes, that he's better off alone and that the ends justify the means.

These perfectly ruinous circumstances lead to him getting Sky killed (Sky like sky blue, like Inspiration, lost as Viktor has lost sight of good in his pursuit of great).

In his running scene, Viktor runs not from left to right, filmspeak for progression - he runs from right to left, as though backstepping.

(And also for the Rocky Balboa reference called out in this brilliant post, but hey, I think it all works)

It's also worth laying the foundation that Viktor is a fantasy interpretation of Nikola Tesla, the Serbian-American inventor who was fascinated with electricity, radio signals, the cosmos, and [REDACTED for another post probably lol]

If you've fallen down the rabbit hole of League lore like I have, you might have picked up that peoples and warriors who are sun-worshipers are (at least anciently) tasked with hunting down and destroying Void beings, who are eldritch beings associated with the distant stars, or are Runeterrans constructed by the Void Watchers trapped between realms. The sun fights against interlopers from other dimensions or celestial bodies.

Mel and Viktor have the same ideas about risk and the nature of progress, and they are both technically foreigners living in Piltover and pursuing that progress - in two very different (but complementary) ways. They are most likely the two characters whose literal bodies are celestial, imbued with the Arcane. Their bodies are most likely augmented with magical metals.

Yet the arcane imagery that seems to accompany them respectively are diametrically opposed - Sun vs. Void, possibly. (Also, purple and yellow/gold are opposite or complement colors on the color wheel.)

Whether they wind up working together or whether they clash (as Viktor loses himself) or if it's a mix of both, I think Mel and Viktor are destined to collide in season 2.

So where does this leave Jayce?

FIRE 🔥

Fire for Jayce means more than one thing. The first thing that should come to mind is the fire of the forge. Creation and industry. The legacy and hard work of his family.

However, his FIRST imagery with fire occurs when Elora says "Speak of the devil" and Jayce is framed in flames at Mel's fundraising party.

He's similarly framed in the flames of a Molotov cocktail on the bridge between Piltover and the undercity with Viktor, after he's just called the people of the undercity dangerous.

What I think we're being shown here are Jayce's choices. He can use his talents and influence for good - creation and industry - or he can use them for destruction and oppression. A hammer can create.

A hammer can also be a weapon, a tool of destruction:

Fire can quickly burn and spread out of control.

Hey look, blue all the way to magenta in one scene!

And if you know his original League lore, the reason why his rivalry with [REDACTED] crosses the point of no return - fire and destruction. Yeah.

Jayce is interesting because his point position in the Mel-Viktor-Jayce trifecta makes it tempting to assign celestial imagery to him, too. However, adult Jayce is only present with Hexcore, star, and sun imagery when he is sharing a scene with Viktor or Mel respectively.

The show makes it a point that Mel and Viktor are the reasons he is the Man of Progress at all:

Note that Jayce in the center of his Man of Progress posters is backed by a gear (Viktor) and the sun (Mel). If Viktor had not intervened in episode 2, Jayce would be dead or disenfranchised. If Mel had not intervened in episode 3, then Jayce AND Viktor would have been kicked out of the Academy if not imprisoned or exiled, and Hextech with Jayce and Viktor at the helm would not exist.

(This is reaching, but I like to interpret that the circle + notches in the gear shape are like Viktor's star symbolism, but even if that's the big reach that I think it is, Viktor is a machinist, engineer, and techmaturgist with Artificer parents - the gear definitely represents him on a meta level)

The imagery that I believe is Jayce's and Jayce's alone is that of fire. He is terrestrial, using magic contained within tools the way he has always wanted to bring Hextech to every household, while Mel and Viktor are influenced by magic on a whole other level.

Sure would be a shame if Jayce found a reason to choose the path of destruction and be corrupted further, diverging from Mel and Viktor's core values

Sure would be a shame if Viktor's personal choices had consequences that radiated out further than season 1 and he gets put on a disastrous collision course with everything that Jayce and by extension Piltover hates and fears

Sure would be stressful for us if Arcane decided to be a Greek tragedy about it

Though possibly the most important piece of this picture is how Mel - gold like the sun, gold that doesn't tarnish or rust, gold that is an excellent conductor - has already faced the abyss and said NO to her own corruption:

It sure would be something for her to have to watch Jayce and Viktor go down a different path, huh

[lifeafterartsch00l]

🍥Sns fic recs🍅

*If you know these authors on Tumblr, please tag them! ❤️😊*

Oxigen's overrated by TheMidnightSong

I love love love “Sasuke returns to Konoha” fics. Ive probably read like 200 of them and i would love to read 200 more. I 🍽️ it up!

Shout out to the latest chapter in this sweet & spicy fic! So well paced. They are so into each other. Hot enough to fry an egg on. Nominating for a smut award 👑 (Im making it a thing).

*Still thinking about chapter*

…what were we talking about again?

“Chapters: 9/?

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Tsunade (Naruto), Gaara (Naruto), Dai-nana-han | Team 7 Ensemble (Naruto), Uchiha Sasuke, Kyuubi | Nine-tails | Kurama, Haruno Sakura, Ninjas of Konohagakure, Konoha 11 Ensemble (Naruto)

Additional Tags: Post-War, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Fix-It, Ending Fix, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, POV Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke Returns to Konoha, Uzumaki Naruto is in Love with Uchiha Sasuke, Boys In Love, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, sasuke actually wants to become better, One-Sided Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura Needs a Hug, Eventual Smut, Post-Chapter 699 (Naruto), Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Blank Period (Naruto), Drugs Made Them Do It, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, Getting Together, After Party, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, sasuke never went to jail, Uzumaki Naruto is Bad at Feelings, naruto is actually super in love, But he doesn't know how to handle it

Summary: After the war, Kakashi, the now Sixth Hokage, sees necessary for Sasuke to continue his recovery with Naruto, and puts him in charge of this task. At first, Sasuke has no problem with the idea, but he begins to notice strange behaviors in his friend, things that make him doubt about the relationship”

Detox (20 years together series) by wedonotsow

Dark, kinky modern au. A wonderful writer, authentic-feeling experiences ❤️ Bittersweet with happy ending. 🖤🌶️ also Naruto owns a restaurant in this one and I like to imagine him like Carmie from the Bear 😂 yes chef 😉

“Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Naruto - Relationship

Characters: Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi, Karin (Naruto)

Additional Tags: Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Rehabilitation, True Love, Rough Sex, Pain, Drug Addiction, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Recovery, Love, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Face Slapping, references to bloodplay, Anal Sex, Healthy Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Shibari, Domestic Fluff

Series: Part 2 of 20 years together AU

Summary: Naruto thought that he'd experienced it all. After 20 years of enmeshed history and 10 years in a committed relationship, they had endured death, betrayal, violence, and even jail; but always inexplicably tied in solid foundation of unconditional love.

Nothing could break them. Naruto had been sure of it. That is: until Sasuke was forced into rehab for a drug addition he had been hiding. To overcome these latest demons they must confront the deepest, darkest parts of themselves. Even the stuff that really, really hurts.

Good thing they are so used to enduring pain”

Let the world burn by newtaste

I like to think this fic is like Bridgerton with teeth. Very sexy and smart with class struggle & character development. The romance is so well done 🔥💙

“Rating: Mature

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Nara Shikamaru/Temari

Characters: Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, Nara Shikamaru, Uchiha Itachi, Haruno Sakura, Hyuuga Hinata, Hyuuga Neji, Sai (Naruto), Gaara (Naruto), Yamanaka Ino, Temari (Naruto), Hatake Kakashi, Deidara (Naruto), Sarutobi Konohamaru

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Slow Burn, Yaoi, Enemies to Lovers, Inspired by Bridgerton (TV), Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Period-Typical Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Uchiha Sasuke is one of the most eligible bachelors in Konoha, looking for a successful marriage. He is an elitist, a conservative duke who hates people who do not abide by the rules of society.

Uzumaki Naruto is a rebel, a mere commoner, who plans to revolutionize the system that favours only the rich.

When they accidentally meet at the spring ball, none of them suspects their beliefs would be shaken to their core.

The story takes place sometime in the middle of the nineteenth century, in a European setting, during the industrial revolution. Slow burn”

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

“The magic of his voice”- Part 2

🔥Pairing:  Aemond x Fem. Reader (Non. Targ / second person POV) 

🔥Themes: Soft | Fluff | Smut

🔥Warnings: Kissing | Mild dirty talk | Voice Kink | Dom Sub aspects | Praise | Penetrative sex | Cream pie

🔥Word count:1.8k words

🔥Rating:🔥🔥| Minors DNI | 18+

Summary: You and Aemond take the first step into trying something new in the bedroom.

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

Part 1

Aemond watched, his countenance softening as you made yourself comfortable on his lap.

"Do not fret, ñuha jorrāelagon," he began, "You will enjoy this as much as I."

You folded your hands upon your lap and looked up at him with eager eyes.

"You're so willing to please already. Good girl." The prince smirked, the violet of his right eye gleaming in the light of the fire. Aemond was content to watch, and think. How best to start this night? He thought and thought before finally settling on something simple for you both. "My hair. Loosen it."

The request was simple enough, and you timidly reached around him to undo the thin leather strap that kept his hair out of the way. Aemond trembled at your closeness, the warmth that seemed to radiate off your body, and the sweet scent of your skin. He brushed his nose over your hair, slowly, tenderly, his hands coming to rest on your waist as if to hold you steady. They quivered when your fingers combed through slippery, thick silver-gold locks, when the heat of your breath fanned against the shell of his ear. Aemond fought for composure, and patience won out, for now. He kept still while you finished your little task, quietly relishing how you felt against him.     

His hair finally loosened, and the thin strap that held it all together was now in your hand. Aemond took it off of you and consigned it to the side. He then swallowed and asked you to do something he had never done before. "My eye-patch," he said, suddenly bashful. "Remove it as well."

Well. This truly was a turn of events. Aemond had never removed his eyepatch in front of anyone, not even you. He even wore it while asleep. Or perhaps he took it off while you were asleep and donned it before you opened your eyes, but you never saw him without it.

"Why now, my love?" you asked, ravenously curious. "Why after all this time?"

Aemond grew pensive for a moment before replying. "Many a time I have asked you to put your complete trust in me. It is time I did the same. The patch, ñuha jorrāelagon," he coughed and looked away. "Remove it."

Deep inside, he was more than a little wroth, but not with you. Aemond loathed the patch, for it was a reminder of a dark and painful time, a time that showed his sire only ever truly cared about Rhaenyra and her brood, and not his other children. More than anything, Aemond wished he had never had it. He wished his kin could have just accepted that Vhagar chose him, and then he sighed. Events unfolded as the Gods had willed them; he could not change them no matter what he did.

You took great care with the patch, carefully slipping it off. Your gaze rested on the familiar scar that ran from brow to cheekbone, the now visible deep blue stone that seemed to gleam with a life all of its own. You have heard, of course, how Aemond claimed Vhagar, of the fight that followed, and of the terrible price that had to be paid in exchange for claiming the last living reminder of the Conqueror and his sisters. Seeing it was wholly different from hearing about it in tales, and you kept pity out of your eyes. Aemond never cared for the pity of others, and it always vexed him.

"Does it hurt?" You asked hesitantly, running a finger carefully over that jagged line.

Aemond closed his eyes as warmth washed over him. Just your touch alone was enough to soothe him. "Not anymore."

He took the eye patch off your hands and placed it on the side as well. The weight of the mattress shifted as he moved to make himself more comfortable. Aemond turned to you and took you in, with your curious eyes and your willingness to please. How it warmed his very blood to see you like this, ready to submit to him.

"Your shift," he said, greedily eyeing the silky wisps you wore. "’Tis too much. Unburden yourself."

The force and steel in his voice unlocked something inside you, something deep and dark, something that made a jolt shoot up your spine. It heated you to your core, and you complied, fumbling with the laces in the process, your fingers feeling like they had all turned into thumbs. You heard no reproach, no sound of impatience, but you felt it—his vivid purple eye watching you, following your every move, taking in everything you were doing. You looked at him after tugging your shift over your head, your pulse quickening when lust and need burned in his eye.

And Aemond didn’t want to go too far, not on your first night trying something so wholly new to the both of you. Step by step, he thought. There would be many more nights like this, and many more opportunities to explore even further.

"Stay still," Aemond all but purred, his words as sweet as honey. "Stay perfectly still."

First, he took your nightgown and threw it to the floor without ceremony. Then he ran his hands all over your body, oh so slowly, over your thighs, your belly, all over your neck and hair, down your arms, his fingers lacing around yours when he reached your hands. Aemond brought both your hands to his mouth, his lips moving over each finger in soft, airy little kisses that left you flushed and more than a little breathless.

"You taste sweet, ñuha jorrāelagon," he breathed, letting go of your hands so he could move his arms around your waist. "Now, are you ready for more?"

You nodded, willingly yielding to the growing demands of your body. Aemond dipped his head, his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat over and over again. Lightheaded and dizzy, you threw your arms around his shoulders, gasping when they tightened their hold. His teeth grazed over your skin, leaving patches of lavender to bloom in their wake. His tongue laved, leaving a damp trail, while a hand hardened and callused by years of sword use moved up to cup your breast. Aemond palmed it softly, enjoying the warmth of it against his palm, how your nipple stiffened by his touch. And the sounds you made—all those little whimpers and sighs—were like music to his ears. He laid you back in bed, his lips and tongue laving and tasting in turn, his hands exploring every possible inch of your body, his heart pounding harder than ever, his cock hardening and straining against his breeches.

Your fingers nearly ripped into the sheets when he moved his hand to your sex, already slick and wet. Aemond slid a finger in, then another, moving them in and out, growing drunk on your needy moans. He felt you shudder and heard you sob his name. Aemond propped himself up on his elbow, and when you shuddered again, he pulled out and moved over you, his thighs pushing yours apart. "Lie back, dārilaros," he said and sat up, the soft sound of clasps unfastening filling you in on what was about to happen next. "And let me take care of you."

Again you obeyed, unable to deny him. Your gaze drifted over Aemond’s body while he undressed, the muscles sculpted by many moons of sparring and fighting. A warrior’s body, one that held great skill and strength, strength he had never use against you, not to hurt. Your cheeks warmed when Aemond caught you looking, and he smirked.

"Enjoying the view, dārilaros?"

You grinned even as your cheeks burned. "Yes, my love. Very much so."

Aemond chuckled—a light, breathy chuckle—before moving over you once more. "Are you ready?"

He said, brushing stray locks of hair out of your eyes.

You hummed in anticipation, your arms circling his shoulders and your legs moving over to rest against his hips. Aemond leaned in and brushed his lips over yours, once, twice, before capturing your mouth with a kiss that shook you to your very core. Aemond kissed with passion and fire, rendering your bones to water. He propped himself on his elbow, his free hand moving to your hip. He moaned, oh, how he moaned, when he entered your velvety core. Aemond stopped, his body trembling, his need for you growing all the stronger. He took a moment to savour how hot and wet and ready you were. And then, he moved, his lips crashing into yours.

A tangle of limbs was what it was: two bodies and two souls cleaving into each other, hungrily and desperately, as if this night was going to be the last. All sense of restraint had crumbled to dust as Aemond rode you, his hips bruising the insides of your thighs. Your grip tightened, your fingers scouring his flesh, your legs scrabbling for purchase against his hips as he pushed in deeper and harder, his fingers digging into your hip. And the things he said, how wonderful you tasted, how soft your skin felt, how sweetly it smelled. And there were other things he said, darker and more sinful, things he reserved for your ears alone.

"I cannot get enough of you, dārilaros," he groaned when your nails raked over his skin. "The things you do to me, it makes me so weak."

That only encouraged you to arch toward him. "More," you plead. "More."

Aemond grinned. "The feeling of you is the only thing I can think about for days after we make love," he admitted, his rhythm growing erratic as he neared the edge. "All I have to do is close my eyes, and the sight of that beautiful body of yours writhing beneath me is enough to make me forget everything else."

It was bliss that overcame you, bliss that blinded you to all else. You couldn’t think, could barely breathe, as pleasure of the most sinful and acute surged like a wave that kept on rising. Aemond’s name blew past your lips in a whisper as he drove mercilessly into you, taking you higher and higher.

Bliss slowly gave way to heat as the two of you succumbed to wildness. Aemond forced himself to open his eye, to see you, to see the myriad of expressions on your face, how your mouth parted when crying out his name. Soon, it came so soon: unimaginable ecstasy as he plunged one last time, his release crashing over him barely a moment after yours, your walls contracting and pulling him in even deeper as he spilled his seed, his chest heaving against yours.

You blinked your eyes as consciousness trickled in slowly. You heard heavy breathing and looked up at Aemond. Beads of sweat gleamed over his brow, his chest trembling even as he still leaned over you. When he felt you stir, Aemond opened his eye and looked down at you, a shy smile tugging at his lips. He dipped his head and kissed you again, softly and sweetly this time, before moving to his side and sighing contentedly when you curled into him.

"That was wonderful, my love," you murmured, shifting your gaze to him.

"There will be more," Aemond promised, taking your hand into his. "So much more. This was just the beginning."

tags: @asianbutnotjapanese | @nupppuff​  | @arcswonderland​

[mxmollusca]

for the "get to know your fic writer meme"! 4, 17, 46, 54! and if you have one that you REALLY want to answer but no one's asked it yet, this is your wild card to answer a question of your choosing 😌

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Whatever I'm currently learning about worms its way into my writing. An Arm and a Leg and The Sticking Place are rooted in my love of cephalopods, and my philosophical interest in body neutrality and self-love through self-discovery. In Favor With Their Stars and The Ship of Theseus stem from my interests in AI, space exploration, engineering, humanism, bodies, neurodiversity, and personhood. Wave Hello to the Void is an ode to monstrosity, gender, the interrelationship between hyperfixation and passion, interconnectedness, and physics. A lot of my stories are seeded by poetry I read. I get a lot of inspiration from images, metaphor, and turns of phrase that make me reconsider how I view the world. I love the ways in which Rae Armantrout, Jane Wong, Maggie Nelson, and Robert Wood Lynn have made me reconsider my POV in particular.

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult?

Body doubling and rubbering ducking with my betas. Most of my problems with writing come from being slow and struggling to initiate the task. With a buddy writing at the same time (Discord sprinties ftw), I am able to at least get something on the page, and having the cheerleader there to give some immediate feedback will usually be enough reinforcement to unstick me. Same works for my original writing, which is why I find having a writing group to be indispensable.

46. How would you describe your style?

Lyrical? Maybe a bit self-indulgent. I'll get a turn of phrase stuck in my head and sometimes I'll write a whole scene just so I can use it. But that's one of the great things about fanfiction---at the end of the day, I'm writing it for myself. I am going to write it in the way that feels best to me, and sometimes that way is floridly.

54. What's your favorite part of the fanfiction writing process?

I love the editing process. I love getting feedback and implementing it. I love seeing something from another perspective, making tweaks, and seeing the quality improve. I also love it when my betas yell at me in the comments. A well-timed 🔥 emoji does so much for my motivation.

get to know your fic writer challenge

[claggorstuff]

‐ 🦝

claggor x male!reader (CLAGGORS POV)

claggor meets reader at benzo's shop one day, he falls hard and fast over this one interaction

Sir yes sir!!!

Claggor meets big booty babe man at benzos or whatvs 🔥

It was gloomy as always, hell maybe even more than usual, vander asked me to pick up this months collection from benzo so I guess I kinda had to.. the walk over was miserable, the air was thick and foggy, I had to use my goggles to see through the cloud of smoke and sut, I wandered until I saw the sign, "benzos", swinging back and forth in the winds on this particular day, in the shop through the tinted windows I could see benzo and his usual collector, and what seemed to be another person, a real tall guy, I couldnt see his face yet, but shit I could tell he was intimidating. I opened the door and all of them looked at me

"Ahhh claggah'! I knew youd be round ere' soon enough!" Benzo yelled my way excitedly

"Yeah yeah.. I-.." soon the boy I saw through the windows face was clearer, ebony hair and caramel skin, with dark eyes, a masterpiece of a man, I couldnt help but have my jaw drop

"I-I was just.. here to collect for vander n stuff.." the boy noticed my gaze and chuckled walking over to me

"Hey.. so youre the hound of the undergrounds oldest pup huh?" He smirked, staring into my eyes

"Oh err.. yeah.. yeah I guess I am." It was hard to speak, red tint littered across my face, lump in my throat and averting his gaze, I tried making eye contact but it was too hard.

"Nice, I'm y/n. My dads here to drop off his collections but uh.. yknow. I just stand around waiting."

"Yeah yeah your dads uh... a nice guy!"

"So is yours from what I hear!" He chuckled and tilted his head, "you seem cool enough, why dont we err.. hang out. After this. Or some other time yknow."

"Yeah yeah uh- damn right now aint good for me, I gotta get the stuff for vander.." In my head I was cursing the gods for that stupid task, wishing I couldve taken up the offer.

"Alright then, nice seeing you anyways.. claggor." He shook my hand and I yelped not expecting it, going to benzo collecting this months offer, I stumbled out, cursing and scowling at myself, but after I couldnt help but smile, which when i got home, vander noticed.

"Meet a girl on yer way there eh'?"

"Uhh nah.. a.. guy."

"Oh." He smiled "Whatd he look like?"

"Dark hair.. kinda dark skin.. dark eyes.. all that.. heh uh.. i guess his clothes were white and grey.. blue bracelet.. runic symbols on a pendant.. Real. Real. Cute.."

"Ahh.. so. What youre sayin is you like em?"

"O-Oh well I..!"

"Im just messin around with ya.. go on now. Get downstairs." He took the bag chuckling, I stepped down the stairs unable to stop thinking of the boy I saw, as I sat I thought and thought, it was impossible to get him out of my head, all I could do was chuckle to myself.. I cant wait to see him again.

[dragonedged-if]

................. A NSFW snippet with Variel? Please, author? 👀

Well this has been gathering dust on my inbox for a while due to I'm being focused in writing on my IF.

But seeing that there is a surge of Variel thirsters out there, I think is about time I bring out the big guns eh 😉😉🔥🔥

(Variel's POV)

It has been many days since MC confess their feelings to you and you as well finally confess to them accidentally.

Up till now you still don't what you should feel about this, happy?

You should be ecstatic, right? MC, the person you've had feelings for, finally confessed their feelings to you, and you did the same in return. But despite the warmth of their confession and the reciprocation of your feelings, there was a persistent sense of unease gnawing at the back of your mind.

You tried to push the feeling away, to bask in the joy of the memory. MC's words had been so earnest, their eyes full of hope and vulnerability as they laid their heart bare. It was everything you had wanted, and yet, the fear remained.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly what you were afraid of. It was a familiar feeling, one that had haunted you before in moments of vulnerability. It was a fear of the unknown, of what could come next. What if things didn't work out between you and MC? What if your feelings changed? What if you ended up hurting each other?

The weight of these uncertainties pressed down on you, dampening the excitement of MC's confession. It was as if a dark cloud had cast a shadow over what should have been a moment of pure happiness. You tried to push it aside, to focus on the positive, but the fear was relentless.

You were lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, the weight of uncertainty and fear pressing down on you, when a familiar voice called you back to reality. Startled, you turned to see MC sitting beside you, their eyes filled with concern.

"You alright Precious?"

In your distraction, you had been clutching your palm tightly, and as you opened it, you winced at the stinging pain.

Crimson liquid seeped from a small cut on your skin, a physical reminder of the inner turmoil you were grappling with.

"You're hurt!" MC exclaimed, their voice laced with worry. Without hesitation, they reached out and gently took hold of your hand, their touch warm and reassuring.

Their concern was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for letting your thoughts consume you to the point of causing harm to yourself.

"It's nothing," you muttered, trying to downplay the injury, but MC's grip on your hand remained firm, their eyes fixed on the wound.

"No, it's not nothing," MC insisted, their brow furrowed with worry.

MC's expression softened with determination as they swiftly plucked a handkerchief from their pocket. With practiced care, they gently pressed the fabric against the cut on your palm, using their other hand to securely tie it in place. Their fingers moved with precision, their touch gentle yet purposeful as they tended to your wound.

You watched in awe as MC's kindness unfolded before you. The simple act of tying a handkerchief on your wound seemed to symbolize their unwavering support, a silent reassurance that they would always be there for you, no matter what. Their focused gaze never wavered from the task at hand, their full attention solely on you.

"Thanks," you whispered, finally meeting MC's gaze. They smiled softly, their eyes full of compassion.

"Anytime, Precious," they said, using the endearing nickname they had for you. It was a simple gesture, but it made your heart swell with emotion.

In that moment, you realized that while the fear and doubt still lingered, having someone like MC by your side made it feel a little more bearable.

But a question remains unanswered.

"MC?"

"Why did you choose me? There are other people out there yet you choose me!" you said, your voice filled with wonder as you gazed at them, waiting for their response.

MC's expression softened, their eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. They seemed to understand the weight behind your question, and they took a moment to choose their words carefully.

"I didn't choose you," MC said, their voice steady but filled with sincerity. "It wasn't a conscious decision or something I planned. It was more like...my heart chose you."

You were taken aback by MC's response, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. You had always been puzzled by their initial attraction towards you, considering how you had often mock and challenged them. But their words were genuine, and you could see the twinkle in their eyes as they spoke.

"When I first met you," MC said, their voice filled with warmth, "you always ridiculed me, threatened me. It was like a challenge, and I found myself drawn to it."

You couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and curiosity at their confession. It was as if MC saw something in you that you hadn't even realized was there.

"I guess you could say I'm a sucker for the pain," MC chuckled, their hand still holding yours gently. "Or maybe I find it incredibly alluring when you push back against me."

ou couldn't help but chuckle at MC's playful response, the tension from your earlier doubts dissipating as their lips brushed against your knuckles. Their touch sent a tingling sensation through your skin, and you found yourself captivated by the twinkle in their eyes.

"So even if I rip your heart out and eat it in front of you, you'll still love me?" you asked, your lips tugging upwards into a mischievous grin.

MC brought your hand close to their mouth, their breath warm against your skin as they pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "There's no need for violence," they said with a smirk, their fingers rubbing soothingly over your knuckles. "I can just offer my heart to you."

Their words were both teasing and sincere, and you found yourself drawn to MC's playful yet affectionate nature. It was a side of them that you hadn't fully appreciated before and really find it annoying in the past but now it made your heart swell with warmth.

A mischievous glint danced in MC's eyes as they stood up from the bench, but their grip on your hand remained firm. "If you want, I can sing you a song to emphasize that my heart belongs to you!" they said, wiggling their eyebrows playfully.

"Oh?" you tilted your head to the side, intrigued by their proposition. MC had always been full of surprises, and you couldn't help but be curious about what they had in mind.

(If you want you can sing along with MC 🔥🔥😘😘😉😉💖💖🎙🎙🎤🎤)

(MC's POV)

Closed off from love, I didn't need the pain Once or twice was enough and it was all in vain Time starts to pass, before you know it, you're frozen, ooh But something happened for the very first time with you My heart melts into the ground, found something true And everyone's looking 'round, thinking I'm going crazy, oh

(As you cast a gentle smile at Variel, you couldn't help but notice the tell-tale signs of her affection. Her cheeks took on a rosy hue, and she looked away, trying to hide the blush that had spread across her face. But her eyes sparkled with delight, and the way she nervously played with a lock of her hair gave her away.)

But I don't care what they say I'm in love with you They try to pull me away, but they don't know the truth My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing You cut me open and I

(You extended your hand towards Variel, the warmth of your touch sending a shiver down her spine.

With a gentle tug, you pulled Variel up to her feet, a thrill coursing through you as she rose gracefully. Her eyes never left yours, her gaze locked with yours in an unspoken understanding.

You could see the blush from earlier becoming redder as the seconds pass by.)

Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love You cut me open Oh yeah

(With a lighthearted grin, you leaned in towards Variel, your movements filled with a sense of playfulness. As you closed the distance between you, you brought your nose to gently rub against hers, a teasing gesture that made Variel chuckle, her laughter a melodic sound that warmed your heart.

Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she couldn't contain her amusement at your playful antics and your choice of words.

As Variel chuckled, her breath mingling with yours, you couldn't help but be captivated by her laughter, by the joy that radiated from her. It was a reminder of how much she meant to you, how her presence brought lightness to your heart.)

Trying hard not to hear, but they talk so loud Their piercing sounds fill my ears, try to fill me with doubt Yet I know that their goal is to keep me from falling, hey, oh But nothing's greater than the rush that comes with your embrace And in this world of loneliness, I see your face Yet everyone around me thinks that I'm going crazy Maybe, maybe

But I don't care what they say I'm in love with you They try to pull me away, but they don't know the truth My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing You cut me open and I

(As the music played, you and Variel moved in perfect harmony, swaying to the rhythm. Her arms found their way around your neck, pulling you closer, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around her waist. The embrace felt natural, as if you were made to fit together.

Variel's arms were warm around you, her fingers lightly grazing the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest against yours, the way her body molded against yours, and it sent a rush of warmth through you.)

Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love Oh, you cut me open and I

(As the chorus of the song played again, Variel's voice joined yours in perfect harmony. Her voice was melodic, a perfect match to the melody, and it made your heart swell with joy.

You couldn't help but smile as you listened to her singing. Her voice was like a siren's call, drawing you in and capturing your attention. You remained silent, letting her take the lead, as she sang with passion and confidence.)

Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love Oh, you cut me open and I

(You watched as Variel closed her eyes, lost in the moment, her voice soaring higher and higher, hitting every note with precision. Her voice was a symphony, a melody that captivated your soul and left you breathless.

As the chorus came to an end, Variel held the final note, her voice lingering in the air, leaving you breathless.

Variel opened her eyes, her cheeks flushed with emotion, and she looked at you with a shy smile. It was a moment you would never forget, a moment that made you realize just how special Variel was, and how lucky you were to share this magical moment with her)

(Below this cut is the spicy stuff so read in your discretion and maybe expect a mention of cuts, some singed marks and love bites LOL 😉😉)

Variel's eyes met yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Without a word, she closed the distance between you, her lips crashing against yours in a searing kiss.

Fireworks exploded in your mind as her lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own. Her kiss was passionate, filled with desire and longing. Your senses were heightened, and every touch, every taste, sent electric currents through your body.

You could feel the heat of her body pressed against yours, the urgency in her movements, and the way her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. The kiss was a symphony of sensations, a dance of lips and tongues, a language of love spoken without words.

As the kiss deepened, you found yourself losing yourself in the moment, completely consumed by the intensity of your connection with Variel. The world around you disappeared, and all that mattered was the taste of her lips, the softness of her touch, and the intoxicating scent of her skin.

Time seemed to stand still as the kiss continued, and you found yourself craving more of her, unable to get enough. Your body responded to her touch, igniting with a fiery desire that threatened to consume you both.

As your hands explored Variel's body, you felt the distinct texture of scales beneath her skin, a reminder of her draconic heritage.

The sensation sent a thrill through your body, igniting your desire even further. But before you could continue, Variel abruptly pulled back from the kiss, her eyes narrowing into thin slits.

There was a primal hunger in her gaze that made your heart race with anticipation.

Without a word, Variel raised her hands and with a swift motion, ripped your clothes asunder, leaving you exposed to her hungry gaze. The sound of fabric tearing echoed in your ears as she revealed your skin, baring you to her with a fierce intensity. Her eyes roamed over your exposed form, drinking in every inch of your skin as her own desire blazed brightly in her eyes.

The air crackled with anticipation as she closed the distance between you, her hands reaching out to touch your bare flesh. Her touch was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Her fingers traced patterns on your skin, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you completely.

The raw desire in her eyes matched your own, and you found yourself unable to resist her advances. With a growl of longing, Variel pulled you close, her body pressed against yours, her hands exploring every curve and contour of your skin.

The sensation was intoxicating, and you could feel the heat building between you, a primal urge that demanded to be sated. In that moment, all inhibitions were cast aside as you gave in to the hunger that burned within you. Your bodies moved in a frenzied dance, fueled by passion and desire, as you gave yourselves to each other completely.

As Variel pushed you down onto the ground, a surge of anticipation surged through you. "I will be the one doing the dominating! she smirks. her smirking expression sent shivers down your spine, and you eagerly submitted to her dominance.

With a quick motion, Variel ripped your pants apart, exposing your throbbing member to her hungry gaze. She wasted no time, grabbing your legs and lifting them upwards, positioning herself above you.

With a breathless gasp, she impaled herself onto your member, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The intensity of the moment left you breathless, as you surrendered to the raw passion between you and Variel, lost in the throes of desire.

Variel's movements were urgent and powerful as she slammed her hips down onto you, the sound echoing through the secluded space. Despite the intensity of the moment, you couldn't help but notice how she looked, her body glistening with sweat, her eyes wild with desire. It was a good thing no one was around to witness this raw, uninhibited display of passion. As Variel screamed in pleasure, her grip on your neck sent shivers down your spine. Her nails, sharp and digging into your flesh, should have been painful, but in this moment, it only added to the overwhelming pleasure.

The sensation of her hands on your neck, both possessive and arousing, heightened the intensity of the experience.

The pressure in your member becomes almost unbearable.

"I'm close! you let out a moan, unable to contain your impending release.

But Variel's commanding voice cuts through your haze of pleasure, and you realize she's not done with you yet.

"Don't you dare come without my say so!" Variel growls, her eyes blazing with dominance.

With renewed vigor, she leans close to your chest and moves up and down on you with a ferocity that's both exhilarating and maddening. Every thrust, every sensation, pushes you closer to the edge, but you force yourself to hold back, to comply with her command.

Variel's animalistic noises fill the air, and you find it oddly endearing, even in this primal moment.

Her relentless pounding drives you to the brink, but you're determined to obey her, to give her control over your release. It's a tantalizing game of pleasure and restraint, and you're completely under Variel's spell.

The tension builds, your senses heightened, and you struggle to maintain your composure as she takes you to the edge again and again, teasing and testing your limits.

"Now you have my permission," Variel growls, her eyes blazing with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

"Mark me now, and do not miss!" Her words are a command, and you can feel the weight of her dominance pressing down on you. With a primal instinct, you release, unable to hold back any longer.

Your body convulses as you explode inside her, your seed filling her with a sensation that's both electrifying and satisfying. Variel lets out a guttural sound, a mix of pleasure and triumph, as she rides out your release, her nails digging into your flesh.

The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, as you feel the pulsing waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes lock with Variel's, and you can see a hunger in her gaze, a hunger that matches your own.

As your breathing slowly returns to normal, Variel leans down and kisses you fiercely, claiming your lips as if marking you as hers. It's a raw, passionate kiss that leaves you dizzy with desire, and you can't help but respond with equal fervor.

The world fades away, and all that matters in that moment is Variel, her body pressed against yours, her scent intoxicating, and the taste of her lips driving you wild.

Variel breaks off the kiss and removing your member from her sex, you can see your seed spilling forth.

Variel's eyes gleam with satisfaction as she gazes at you, a triumphant smile on her lips. "Now you are mine, and I am yours," she declares, her voice filled with possessiveness and joy. "A bond forged and forever cemented!"

Variel's demeanor has shifted from dominant to tender, and she reaches out to caress your cheek gently, her touch surprisingly gentle for someone who exudes such strength and power.

Her eyes hold a softness that you hadn't seen before, and it makes your heart swell with emotion. "You're mine, and I'm yours," she repeats, her voice filled with emotion.

"Forever and always." Her words are a promise, a pledge of devotion that resonates deep within you.

Variel's lips meet yours in a tender kiss, a mingling of passion and tenderness. Her body presses against yours, and you feel the heat of her skin against your own. Her heart is racing, the rapid beats like a drum against your chest, mirroring the fire that burns within her.

As Variel lays down on your chest, you can feel the weight of her body against you, the rise and fall of her breath against your skin. Her closeness fills you with a sense of intimacy and vulnerability, and you find yourself captivated by the way she trusts you, both physically and emotionally.

You run your fingers through her hair, feeling the soft strands tickle your skin. Variel's eyes meet yours, and there's a tenderness in her gaze that takes your breath away. In that moment, you realize how much she means to you, how she has touched a part of your heart that you didn't know existed.

(Variel's POV)

The memory of this moment was etched into your mind, a cherished memory that you kept hidden in the depths of your heart.

Despite the doubts that once plagued you, you were now certain of MC's true and genuine love for you.

But a persistent worry lingered in your chest, a fear that fate would be cruel and snatch away your happiness with MC. Determined to take control of your destiny, you clenched your teeth and made a solemn promise to yourself. You vowed to hold fate by the throat, to crush its larynx, and to uphold your promise to protect your love with MC.

But for now, you found solace in lying in MC's arms, your body intertwined with theirs. Your desire is still burning wildly. Ready for round 2?" you licked their chest with your tongue, a hunger burned within you.

"Right now?" MC asked, their eyes widening in surprise at your seemingly insatiable energy.

"Please," you begged, your voice laced with desire as you leaned in and grazed your teeth against their chest, leaving a faint trail of red marks. You couldn't resist the temptation of tasting MC's blood, and you eagerly lapped up the crimson liquid that oozed from the small wounds.

You chuckle as MC's member goes straight and hard once more. "At least someone's eager!" you say and begin to violate MC again.

[bookworm-2692]

🌲 favourite member/character?

🧨 favourite season and why?

🔥 if you were in the life games, how would you play it?

⚡️most cinematic death?

🌿 any favourite interpretations?

🔮 predict the winner of secret life

<3 love to hear your thoughts

Uhhhh sorry about the delay getting to answer this! I first saw the ask on my phone and wanted to wait until I got to my laptop and then forgot until I got another ask haha.

🌲 favourite member/character?

Oh man this is hard! I'm really liking Gem this season, and Pearl is always fantastic. Her Double Life was extra great, but I've loved her loyalty to her team and the way she's trying to get them to win in both Limited Life and Secret Life, even when her teammates are a bit pathetic (affectionate) sometimes (BigB and Mumbo...). I loved Impulse in Limited Life and how much he was trying to win without letting on that he was tryharding it... Also Skizz Limited Life my beloved <3. Skizz is wonderful and I wish he was in Double Life so I could've been introduced to him at the same time I was introduced to the rest of cast (apart from the two I had known about for a decade already). They're all fun and so wonderful!

🧨 favourite season and why?

Third Life and Last Life are excluded because I have only seen three sessions of Third Life (was about to start session 4 when Limited Life was released) and none of Last Life (because I was gonna watch it when I finished Third Life and that hasn't happened yet). I think Double Life will always have a soft spot in my heart because it was the first one I saw and I loved the soulmates mechanic (I still wonder how things may have changed if, on a red life death, the one who died still dies, but their soulmate gets like a totem effect and continues playing as a solo red... I think that would have made it interesting, especially to see Pearl hunt Scott. I've noodled this as an au but not really come to any conclusions yet. Also what would Tango have done, being alone so early?? That sort of thing). Also I watched Pearl's POV first each week because she uploaded just before I went to bed on Friday night, and everyone else would upload while I was asleep, so that just made her win that much better <3.

I also loved Limited Life because Skizz my beloved <3. I loved how they had solid teams but the alliances between teams changed every five minutes it was so funny. I loved how cavalier they were with dying until they were like "oh shit" because it was the end and they were desperate. I loved making my life tracker graph for this season. Limited Life was a lot of fun.

Secret Life is also fantastic so far. I love the tasks and the interactions (and canon Gem in the life series!). Unfortunately, Secret Life is uploading concurrently with Decked Out running. During Double Life I managed to watch every single POV each week. During Limited Life I was busier, so I only managed to watch most POVs each week. For Decked Out, I was mostly keeping up with everyone's streamed runs, but behind on videos... and now Secret Life is happening... so I'm way behind on both, because keeping up with just one is a full time job and I like both. So I will definitely have to go back later and watch more Secret Life POVs because I just can't keep up with Decked Out at the same time.

So all in all... I think Double Life is my favourite. The Divorce Quartet stuff was great, and I loved Pearl so much. I might go have a poke again at some point about what may have happened if the final death disconnected the soulbond (especially if they players weren't aware that would happen, so Jimmy still dies first but Tango is alive... and then the chaos as everyone realises their red soulmate is no longer safe...)

🔥 if you were in the life games, how would you play it?

Oh man, this is hard! I'll be honest, I've hardly played minecraft in years other than a few hours here and there starting a new world and then getting too busy to continue. So I definitely don't have PVP skills and would probably honestly be a pretty wet cat. I guess try to find a solid team and try to build some houses/some basic wheat farms, and try not to die pathetically too quickly??? I don't like lying, so I'd be really bad at being boogeyman if that was in play. I don't think I'd betray my teammate, but I would probably be pretty easy to betray. I would definitely die in the bottom half of the rankings lmao.

⚡️most cinematic death?

This one is also hard. Ren and BigB in Double Life was good, with the absolute fluke of a dripstone kill. Also Double Life, but when Bdubs and Impulse became red as Ren was hunting Bdubs, and Impulse took the time to change the music disc to be thematically appropriate is absolutely iconic. In Limited Life, I think Jimmy's final death was fairly cinematic - surrounded by everyone, the fall, the lightning... the tragedy of it all really makes it. Grian's final death is only cinematic in its parallels - falling in the same manner as Jimmy, from skynet, especially as both of them are often interpreted as being birds. I think also Scott's death from green to yellow is cinematic, when the entire yellow server was chasing him, so it involves him escaping everyone, and then the swimming through water, Jimmy trying to kill him, and Scott desperately trying to swim to Martyn so that Martyn can get his time instead of an enemy. I'm not sure if Secret Life has had any cinematic deaths so far... wait actually. Jimmy and Martyn becoming red. From Impulse's POV he (or nvbzy) did a lot of awesome cinematic shots of the dragon fight, including the moment the intruders appeared and then two of them immediately died. Was very cinematic from Impulse's POV, though I haven't seen it from their POVs yet.

🌿 any favourite interpretations?

Hmm. I like that Pearl canonised Tilly having three lives too, she died on her yellow life at the end of the season, which means she's technically still there on her red life. I also like where I saw somewhere about Matchbox potentially being a reincarnation of Tilly?? This is less an interpretation and more based on the skin, but I love that Gem is corrupted by the End now due to the circumstances involved with how she became yellow. I am also now suddenly incapable of remembering any other interpretations, or at least forgetting what is canon and what is an interpretation haha.

Wait I do also love the post that mentions Gem being brought in as a Listener agent simply because Martyn and Jimmy are too pathetic right now lmao

🔮 predict the winner of secret life

I think Impulse has a good chance this time. He's a solid player, and his team is solid and loyal. He came second in Limited Life, and was fairly high in the previous seasons too. Limited Life really showed how much he's willing to work to win, and this time he won't have Scott kill him three times in a row lmao. Scott is also a really good player, but because he's won, he won't want to win again (Pearl has explicitly stated this as well, but Scott hasn't stated it but has shown it with his actions in Double and Limited Life where he very easily could have won again twice over but chose not to), so he will be able to help his teammates. Gem is good at PVP but she's a little more reckless with her hearts than Impulse - actually, Impulse and Skizz both have an advantage with experience being in UHC mode. So yeah, Impulse makes sense to me. And after Limited Life he deserves it. It would be funny if like Gem won on her first season though, or if somehow Jimmy won after becoming the second red so early. I don't think Jimmy will win but it'd be so funny if he did (and so cathartic if he broke the canary curse by winning).

Thank you so much for sending these asks in, and apologies for the week and a half delay in answering!!

Ask game questions here

[wellreadwyvern]

🐉RATING: 🔥🔥🔥🔥/5 I was up until 2am last night finishing The Stardust Thief by Chelsea Abdullah, and it was worth every sleepless minute. After reading a rave review in @pastemagazine, I was eager to get my hands on this book, soon after its release. Having high expectations before turning to the first page, I was not disappointed. The Stardust Thief is a solid, well-paced fantasy with strong character development and evocative world building. Set in the desert, the novel draws from the Middle Eastern classic One Thousand and One Nights and highlights the power of storytelling. Stories can inspire, teach lessons, and rewrite history. There are stories crafted from legend and stories we tell from our daily lives. Some stories are shared and some we keep to ourselves. The plot forms around the quest for an ancient and magical relic. Loulie the merchant, charged with this impossible task by the Sultan, is accompanied by her Jinn bodyguard Qadir and escorted by Prince Mazen and Aisha the warrior thief. As with all quests, the travelers face life-threatening challenges along the way that keep the reader turning pages. The Stardust Thief is filled with ancient magic, hidden ruins, friendship, secrets, and betrayal. I’m looking forward to the next volume of The Sandsea Trilogy, which promises more epic magical world building and new adventures for characters I’ve grown to love. [#myfictionalmusings - day 15 Multiple POV; #theshakespeareanareads - day 15 Magical; #booksandcoffeeinaugust22 - day 15 Features Assassins (Jinn Hunters)] #thestardustthief #chelseaabdullah #orbitbooks #hachettebookgroup #bookrecommendations #bookreview #fantasyreader #fantasybooks #mapmonday #bookish #bookstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/ChS-7kgL1d7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[evanthesence]

🌲 — scar or tango !!

🏜 — clockers , team ties , ranchers and desert duo (I cannot choose just one but there is clear favouritism)

🎨 — NO CLUE, i have so many

🌓 — i love it sosososo much, i love all the fanon creations that can be made out of it / is made from it!

🧨 — thats so hard .. probably secret life or double life (scars pov) OR limited life + double life (tangos pov)

i love scar in secret life SO much. i love how the tasks made him more and more slightly unhinged each time, i also super enjoy his unreliable narrator-ness in both secret and double life !!

tangos limited life is super entertaining and it's one of the seasons i rewatch the most (aside from scars double life) !!! tangos double life is super sweet between him and jimmy too !! i also super love the warden episode on tangos pov …

🔥 — not entirely sure. probably socialize first, gather resources, find allies then continue as nessecary!

❤️ — between the people i've watched, desert duo and ranchers are the best in my opinion! basic, but i adore them

⚡️ — desertduo in 3rd life (my fave death in the series <3) and pearl's / scott's death in double life

🌿 — n/a

🔮 — i'm pretty late to answer this, aye? i always root for scar to be a winner so im super happy he got the win! /lh

🌹 — not sure

❄️ — uhhhm … cleo? i love her as a content creator but her oife series holds no interest to me

⭐️ — connected!

🌌 — i headcanon that they go into a void, waiting to go home to whatever other ongoing series they're apart of (hermitcraft, sos, etc etc) aside from scar in secret life! i headcanon he stayed on the server for months, i have a long headcanon for it that i may share at some point shrugs :3

🎥 — scar! :D

seen a couple people do this, so here’s my version

traffic series ask game!

🌲 favourite member/character?

🏜️ favourite team or duo?

🎨 favourite piece of fanart? link it!

🌓 opinions on the watcher lore?

🧨 favourite season and why?

🔥 if you were in the life games, how would you play it?

❤️ best double life pairing?

⚡️most cinematic death?

🌿 any favourite interpretations?

🔮 predict the winner of secret life

🌹if you could add one more player, who would it be?

❄️ be honest, which character do you care about the least?

⭐️ do you think of the life series as separate from hc/empires, or connected?

🌌 what happens when the players die?

🎥 who’s your most watched pov?

[namooisnervous]

tag dump!

[sitp-recs]

Hidden Gems by sdk | @unmistakablyoatmeal

What can I say about this unsung hero with 211 HP works in her catalogue? Sdk is an author I revisit often because everything she writes is GOLD - both Drarry and rare pairs that check all my boxes with exciting UST, light angst, charming banter and mindblowing hot smut. Age gap, femslash, triads, it’s all here folks. Sdk is every multishipper’s dream writer and there’s something bold and compelling about the way she explores ship dynamics that makes me drool in anticipation, I just know its gonna be a deeply satisfying ride. I can’t say how much I appreciate someone so prolific exploring old beloved tropes and delivering so much top quality content over the years. I had to put my horny hat aside (not an easy feat) to make sure this list included a variety of themes reflecting how resourceful and brilliant Sdk is. The best thing? They’re all pocket size reads, and that means you’ll get obsessed just like me but will be able to go through all of them today. I hope I did a good job (this is my longest reclist yet!) but I still urge you to go check her catalogue and give those brilliant drabbles some love as well. Happy Friday!!!

Drarry

Three series (2013, E, 3.5k) - insanely hot Draco/Teddy & Drarry+Teddy, Sdk was delivering the goodies before this triad was cool 😌🙌

Draco's never one to miss an opportunity. Especially when it comes twice in one night.

Pub Night (2014, E, 7k) - Loo sex! Loo sex! Loo sex! Always a fave, fwb to lovers, sweet sweet get together

In a cramped loo at The Bitter End, what Harry and Draco do is only about one thing: getting off. ...Isn't it? Read my rec here.

Swish and Flick (2013, E, 7k) - really fun and cool time loop fic with pub romance and meddling friends, btw this Ron/Pansy/Hermione triad gives me life!

The Swish and Flick is the last place Draco wants to spend his Saturday evening—especially when he discovers Potter is also in attendance—and he can't wait for the night to end. Unfortunately for Draco, time is not on his side.

Save My Wonders (2014, E, 21k) - gorgeous and sensitive fic about healing and self-love. Chubby Draco, falling in love, found family. A must read!

Immediately chocolate assaulted Draco's senses. Warm melted chocolate mixed with his mother's roses and... something else. Something new. Freshly scrubbed skin and maybe a faint sheen of sweat. It was so familiar... And it only intensified when Potter came up behind him.

The Wand Slipped (2019, E, 35k) - all-time fave! Thrilling case fic with family drama, lots of hot smut and a gorgeous pining Draco that will take your breath away 🥺

After a messy, public divorce and a disgraceful exit from the Auror Department, Harry is trying to rebuild his life as a private investigator. But when his ex-wife ends up in St. Mungo's, and Harry's tasked with finding her attacker, he'll have to confront the mistakes of his past, and rely on an old enemy, in order to get closure and move on, and incidentally, solve the case. Read my rec here.

Rare pairs

A Selfish Desire (2020, E, 1k) - delicious Ginsy short feat. second person POV and anal sex, yes pls!

Ginny has you bent over the kitchen table before you have time to smirk.

Coax to Bliss (2019, E, 2.4k) - exquisite Sirry smut with pining, peak UST and lush shower sex and praise kink, all my favorite things in one place 🔥

Harry likes to break the rules but he's very good at obeying when he wants to.

Always (2012, M, 2.5k) - perfect Harry/Teddy vampire fic full of angst, devotion and trust. My heart!

Harry would do anything for Teddy. Even this.

Bounty (2017, E, 2.7k) - Millie wears a thigh holster and Ginny can’t resist, and we don’t blame her. Super sexy PWP with a hopeful ending, so good

After her divorce, Ginny discovers a new experience might be just what she needs.

Flatmates (2011, E, 5.5k) - what’s a little drunk sex between friends, amirite? This is the only Drarry + Romione you need to read: scorching hot, funny, organic and with amazing chemistry and characterization. A+ content

Hermione is just as bossy inside the bedroom as she is out of it. The reason Draco knows this is because Harry's walls are too thin. Read my rec here.

Make Me Feel, Make Me Hurt, Make Me Whole (2019, E, 6k) - it’s about the yearning!!!! Brilliant “angst with a happy ending” Pansmione with lots of pining, semi public sex, and background Drarry as a treat.

Hermione and Pansy fall in love.

Shut Up and Kiss Me (2018, E, 7.7k) - the sweetest Harry/Teddy AU you’ll see this week with cute smitten Harry and grocery shop romance, we love to see it!

There's a reason Harry walks an extra ten blocks to go to the shops and it has nothing to do with onions.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hi! I love your writing! Especially your Mairon. Can I request a Mairon x wife Reader (female Maia of Yavanna) where she insists that spending the day outside with her away from his forge will cure his burnout on his current project. He doesn’t like the idea at first, but is quickly impressed with the new skills she shows him. So impressed that it leads to smut in the garden. Thank you!

"The beauty in imperfections"

Pairing: Mairon x Fem. Reader (Maia | Established relationship | Second person POV | Location - Almaren)

Themes: Soft | Smut (Lemon-ish)

Warnings: Kissing | Public sex | Hand job (Male receiving) | Fingering | Penetrative sex | Cream pie

Word count: 1.7k words

Summary: Things heat up between you and Mairon while resting in a starlit meadow.

Rating:🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+

For rules and tag form, read here.

"You toil too much, husband."

Mairon poured over many pieces of parchment, all of which were filled with drawings. He welled up with loathing whenever he glanced at them.

"Master Aulë tasked me with the creation of a diadem worthy of Varda herself," he replied, turning to face you, his voice and eyes dulled by exhaustion. "It must be perfect...none of these are perfect."

Ah, yes. Mairon and his quest for order and perfection. It was both a blessing and a curse, one that threatened to cripple him most of the time. You looked at him, your eyes filling with worry.

"You have confined yourself to the four walls of this forge for too long, husband," you said, taking his hand. "You need a diversion. A change of air will do you good, I think."

Mairon protested with, "But my task... Master Aulë..."

You were quick to cut him off. "Can wait. Come, husband. I am certain your vision can wait."

Mairon opened his mouth to refuse. You simply stood there, hands on your hips, bearing a look that would take no refusal. Mairon glared, the light slowly returning to his golden-orange eyes. You were unmoved. He crossed his arms over his chest. You were unmoved. You tapped the toe of your shoe against the floor. The forge soon filled with the unmistakable tap tap tap of hardened leather against stone. You arched a brow.

Mairon's lips curled at the corners. The tap tap tap grew insistent. Mairon's chest rumbled. You grinned while he struggled to hold back his amusement. Mairon finally laughed long and softly and shook his head.

"Determined little thing, yes?" He paused to walk around the forge. The flames in the furnace had been extinguished, and it was cool to the touch. Tools had been safely put away. All that remained was to shut the doors and windows, and he could leave. "Pray be patient a little longer, and we will leave, you and I."

It was not long before you were leading Mairon down a pebbled path that threaded around a beautiful meadow. The way ahead was lit with bright starlight. It turned the world a glorious silver. Mairon glanced at you, how your hair shone, how your eyes had gone soft and bright and dreamy. He found himself sighing softly.

"Here," you said, and led him under the gnarled branches of an oak tree that had withered with time. You spread your skirts over the soft grass and sat down with your back to the bark. "Come lay here and place your head on my lap."

Mairon made himself comfortable, sighing wistfully when cool air washed over him and you brushed your hand down his hair. He looked at you, wondering how much he would have missed and how long he would have been away from you, toiling on a vision that kept slipping through his fingers.

"Forgive me," he whispered, reaching up to curl his fingers around your hair. "For keeping myself from you for so long. Are you angry?"

"No," you replied truthfully. "For you have your duties just as much as I have mine. But I must confess," you sighed with worry, "watching your tasks consume you alarms me."

"I know," he agreed, "but I cannot help myself. It has to be perfection, nothing less. Is that wrong?"

"Perfection is an illusion, husband." You counseled, and reached to the side to pluck a dandelion in full bloom. "Nothing is truly perfect. Look at this flower. Yavannah created these with her own hands. See how uneven its petals and leaves are, how it is filled with little bumps and lines."

Mairon took the flower and looked over it critically. He found the little bumps and lines, the mismatched petals and leaves.

"And yet it is still beautiful," he admitted, albeit reluctantly. Mairon craved order and perfection; he could not help himself. Still, there was truth to what you said. Nothing was perfect, and even imperfections bring about beauty all of their own. "Perhaps you are right. I will stay away from the forge for a while, and go back to my task with rested eyes."

"Yes," you allowed, and looked around you. The meadow was a riot of blooms, and at that moment, the light from Telperion slowly spread out against the night sky in a brilliant display. The world was even more beautiful for it. Mairon saw it too. There was peace here, and magic. He slowly rose to his feet and dusted himself off, wanting to make the most of the time the two of you had together.

"Walk with me, wife," he implored, taking your hand into his. "Come walk with me."

Walk with him you did. You showed where the roses were, and where the wildflowers bloomed, even the lavender and sage and jasmines. Every flower and vine and tree imaginable was here. Mairon followed you, listening to you while you talked, his eyes on your lips the entire time. They were lips that were meant to be kissed. It had been long, too long in his mind, when the two of you kissed. And he thought he might not find himself in a more wonderous moment like this ever again. He stopped walking. You turned your attention to him, your gaze holding his even as he inched closer. His eyes burned into yours as the two of you stood close—so close that you felt the warmth wash off his fana and make your heart race a beat faster. Mairon wasted no time. He took you into his embrace and lowered his head, his lips barely brushing over yours.

His kiss shrouded your thoughts in a veil of bliss when it slowly deepened. Mairon growled, the sound low in his throat, when you responded passionately and returned his kiss eagerly. Goosebumps prickled all over your skin when his tongue slipped into the warmth of your mouth and the tips of his fingers dug into your dress.

"Husband," you breathed, and drew back. "Someone may find us."

"Eru take the others," he muttered thickly, and led you to a patch of meadow filled with glorious red blooms gilded in silver light. He lay down on soft grass and extended his arm. "Come here, wife. We may never get another moment like this again."

You licked your lips and considered his request. To engage in an act so private in a place where anyone could see... it was terrifying, and daring, and so very exciting at the same time. You looked over your shoulder, at the path you took. There was not a soul to be seen. And Mairon was right. The two of you might never come across an enchanting moment like this. You took his hand and lay beside him.

Mairon kissed you, now gently, his skilled hands undoing the lacing of your dress, loosening it, while you found the fastenings on his. He had you on your back before you could even think and he moved over you, caging you to the grass beneath you.

The air smelled so sweet. It was all roses and new leaves and him. You could smell him: all flames and leather and steel and the clean scent of him beneath it all. Your hands were curious in their exploration. You slipped them beneath his robes, running them all over his heated flesh. His breath hitched when you took him into your hands. Mairon trembled, really trembled, his eyes closing, his breathing reducing to ragged little gasps whenever you tightened and released, tightened and released. Just listening to him moan and whisper sweet endearments while hardening in your hands was enough to make you throb and dampen between your thighs.

His hand glided up your leg, going higher and higher before finding your small clothes. There was a sharp rip when he tore apart the wisps in his haste to reach the apex between your thighs. Your back bowed when skilled fingers touched you in a way that was familiar to you, fanning the flames already ablaze in your belly. His kisses muffled your moans. The delicious friction caused by his touch unraveled you.

It was not enough. He drew back and tugged his tunic over his head, his breeches even lower to free his cock. He helped you pull the top of your dress down, dipping his head to taste.

"You taste so sweet," he declared, his tongue leaving a damp trail over the soft expanse of your breasts. You had to bite your tongue. Mairon gripped your chin and tilted it up, compelling you to look at him. He did not want silence. He wanted to hear the sounds of your pleasure. He considered it to be the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. "Moan for me, wife. You know how I enjoy it when you do."

He eagerly dipped his head again. This time his kisses were violent and bruising, turning your fana into a canvas all of its own. Your moans, now wanton and unrestrained, spilled free. Mairon grew drunk on the sounds and shook when your arms slipped around his shoulders and your nails dug in.

"Hurry," you urged. The need to have him inside you was growing stronger by the moment. "Hurry, husband. There. There. Right there."

Mairon slowly sank his cock into your heat and lost himself in your flesh. He felt like such a fool, putting his labors over time with you. Not even the finest of his creations could compare to the time spent with you. His thrusts went from slow to rhythmic to hard and deep and fast, his hips slapping against the insides of your thighs. He trembled when your hands devled into his hair and the tips of your fingers brushed over his scalp, sending wave after wave of unimaginable bliss washing over him. He crushed your mouth with his when your legs scrambled for purchase against his hips.

It was over so soon. When he shuddered and spilled his seed, whispering your name, your fana splintered as your orgasm ripped through you. Mairon moaned when your cunt tightened around his cock. He kept still, his hand over your belly.

"Keep me in," he urged softly. "Do not move."

You forced open your eyes and looked up at him. Jolts of pleasure still licked up your spine. Mairon himself was gilded in the silvery light of the stars. He never looked more beautiful than at that moment. "More," you plead, "Please."

Mairon chuckled. "Then let me take you home. I plan on ruining you, wife."

Tags: @cilil @wandererindreams @edensrose @asianbutnotjapanese

[hanafubukki]

Prince and the physician my beloved. I love this Au but ahhhhh Why must they be doomed brothers 💔💔😫😫 i just want to kidnap them and take them and let them live happily. Forget the kingdom let it burn to pieces for all I care 😤🔥🔥

“The worst part of reincarnation, Silver thinks, is the constant cycle of relearning everything all over again.”

Honestly? Yeah. Imagine having to relearn everything your prior self learned and knowing your death is eminent. Everyone always having these expectations of you.

“He has lived far too many lifetimes as Silver — the crown prince of his kingdom, the only living heir of their royal family. He has lived far too many lifetimes as a Silver — distinctly different with each rebirth, living a short number of years until the day he inevitably dies.

Silver is immortal, and yet he is not. He lives on as the royal, the prince, a beacon of hope—

But Silver the person changes, with each new looping cycle.”

Ohhhh oh the identity issues?? The exhaustion he must feel?? The pain? Always a prince for others, always a hope, but never himself. 😔😫 (ahahahaha doesn’t that sound familiar let me curl up in a corner)

The freedom he wants as he watches out the window. The connection and the feel of a sword 😭😭 and it’s Malleus he smiles at!! MALLEUS ABSKSKSK

“from the words penned by the others who came before him, that they wish for nothing more than to rid the world of the last of the wicked — not, and never, fair — fae.”

OH LET ME AT THEM LET ME AT THEM 🔥🔥🔥

BUT FOR SILVER MALLEUS WAS ONE THING. Malleus WAS A FRIEND ahhhhhhh

And OH THE CHANGE IN SILVER BEFORE AND AFTWR MALLEUS ABDKSJSJJDSN

The lack of hope, the despair, *loneliness*

And the. When malleus comes to his life. The protectiveness he feels. The emotions. And knowing that malleus felt the same from his pov too when this prince held his hand out. The only reason he stopped fighting against his chains. The only one to treat him with such kindness.

“There is a page filled with endless delight upon learning the fae’s name, ink smudged together where the page reads Malleus. Their activities did not end at the crude essentials; there are sweeping recounts of games played together, of crayon drawings and delicious platters of sweet treats — and Silver aches when he reads every word of it, possessed by a longing to return to those simpler times, when Malleus was not his physician, and was merely his friend.”

“I wish this could last forever, these sweet days of playing together. For much of my life, I have been haunted by a bleak loneliness, isolated by my circumstances, and haunted by the weight of all our pasts. I have never had any companions my age, and I know from my readings that all of my predecessors shared the same lonely fate. To indulge in such fleeting luxuries, to have someone to speak to as though we were on the same level, intimately so— it is a happiness unlike anything I have ever felt before.

Blotchy circles stain the pages, the ink smeared in places.

Things may be different from now on. I understand that the council wishes for him to begin his work when the next cycle begins. And it is with that knowledge that I must remind the next Silver: Malleus may be our physician, and he may be tasked with breaking our curse—

But before that, before any of that, he is our friend.

Never forget that, for as long as we may live.”

Do you hear that?? That is the breaking of my soul.

My heart is shattering. They are each other’s salvation and comfort and yet, what have life given them?? And to know that malleus is the key to breaking this curse that silver wants broken but malleus will loose him??

God, my tears are endles 😔😔

And silver tries so so hard to break formalities with malleus but that is also a barrier. How hard and tiring it must be?? He wants the connection the previous silvers had but also it’s a form of protection for Malleus too. And there’s also those jackals that make him as well 😭😫

To be so understanding and yet?? It’s exhausting 😭😭

“Their relationship is a strange, tenuous thing. There is undoubtedly a bond there, from the way that Silver always feels so safe and secure in Malleus’ presence, and the gentle way that Malleus treats him, always appearing whenever Silver calls for him. There are even some rare occasions where the facade of dutiful physician slips, a careful veneer crafted for the sake of survival in the court, and Silver relishes those times, watching as Malleus’ expression sours, the stinging barbs that spit from his mouth more endearing than his usual regal elegance.”

It is a good day for the two of them, Silver reflects. They drink their cups of tea and drain the pot of its excess drink, and the tray of delicacies are filled with nothing but crumbs by the time they’re done.

Even the cake, a dessert regarded with conflicting feelings by Malleus, is finished by the end of it. For once, Malleus eats his slices with a small smile, both their forks scraping the bottom of the plate as they help themselves to their fill.

I should stop reading here. I know I should! But SAIISJDJSJDJD OKAY HERE WERE go

“In that vein, what does it matter if Silver chooses to speed up the process?”

NO NO YOU DIDNT ELL ELLL TELL ME YOU DIDNT ELL

I mean I saw that ART BUT TELL ME YOU DIDNT

A memory flashes to mind, unbidden — of twisting, dark horns and raven-spun hair, and slitted green eyes that crinkle at the corners as he smiles at him.

(His hands tremble.)

Malleus.

The name fills him with an ache. If there is anything Silver can take comfort in as he straddles the line between life and death, it is simply that Malleus will always be there. Malleus is a constant throughline throughout Silver’s life, and while Silver may ebb and flow, weaving in and out of the many, many years of a fae’s long lifespan, Malleus will always be there.

The humans may come and go, live and die, but Malleus will always remain.

AHHHHHH YOU DID YOU DID AHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOO

I get why silver did it I do. I get it. Those lifetimes. Those expectations. Any other person would go insane and just give up. But silver omg

The line of holding onto malleus and being his constant and knowing he will see him again. So that not only makes him hesitate but also gives him the courage to go through. Because he knows malleus will be there anyways so it doesn’t matter, if he didn’t know that, I bet he would have stayed his hand.

But as much as he hesitated, he knows, malleus will be with him so it’s okay to go through it.

And what of malleus? Hearing that news? His prince and friend dying earlier. Was he not enough? Did he miss something? How did he not see it coming?? Does this make him more shielded? Was he the cause? Was it because he didn’t break the curse? Does he close his heart that much more? And does the new silver hate this precious one for it??

AHHHHH ELLLLL ELLLL WHYYYY ABSJSJJSJDDJD

Beautiful as always. Now I’m going to jail my plushies.

the once (and many) prince(s) Twisted Wonderland | 3.3k Summary: Silver is, has always been, and will always be, the crown prince of his kingdom. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54424864 Collaboration with @ohsleepie | Potential spoilers for elements of Chapter 7

Hi everyone! @ohsleepie and I are back at it again with another collaboration based on his wonderful "The Prince and his Physician" AU! This fic is meant to act as a companion story of sorts to the Malleus-focused "the prince's physician," this time focusing on Silver within the AU! Once again, this fic features incredibly beautiful and amazing art drawn by Sleepie; please check him out and follow him, if you haven't already!

I hope you all enjoy!

The worst part of reincarnation, Silver thinks, is the constant cycle of relearning everything all over again.

Okay, perhaps it would be a bit of a stretch to call it the worst part. There are many negatives, many downsides, far too many to count, to being stuck in a loop of constantly dying and reincarnating. But this particular aspect is, in Silver’s honest opinion, one of the worst out of them all.

There is a bookshelf carved from expensive ebony that sits in his chambers, nestled against one side of the wall. There are several bookshelves in his room, but this is the only one that Silver ever uses, filled from top to bottom with centuries worth of journals — leather-bound books gilded with gold and silver, every detail immaculately painted and carved, the cover opening to expensive parchment made from calves. He tends to absentmindedly run a hand along the spines, eyes glazing over the muted leather colours, before plucking out a book, and reading it through.

Silver only lives a good seventeen years at best, always dying before crossing the pinnacle into adulthood. How much of those seventeen years consist of just… reading? There are, of course, his early years, where he is much too infantile to read and write. But he barely has a few years of reading simple children’s stories before the latest journal is pressed into his hands, and he is briefly explained about the details of his curse.

He pores over the words of those who came before him — the Silvers who came before him, his previous iterations, all dying to form the next one. Their handwriting ghost his own, not just similar but straight up identical, and if he stresses his brain hard enough, he can almost conjure up wispy, fading memories of putting a quill to paper, ink curling across the page in the same, sweeping cursive.

And yet, it is a necessity to read all of it, all over again. Because Silver remembers — but not enough.

His memories are shattered, like an ancient mirror that has been cracked right through the middle, fractured into thousands of tiny, individual pieces. It is akin to a kaleidoscope of lifetimes; when he gazes into this metaphorical mirror, a thousand Silvers stare back, each one reflecting his exact appearance, yet distinct and different in their own ways. And yet each piece is but a shard; Silver remembers only the smallest bits of each past life, the pieces coming together to form a jumbled jigsaw of sharp-edged recollections.

He has lived far too many lifetimes as Silver — the crown prince of his kingdom, the only living heir of their royal family. He has lived far too many lifetimes as a Silver — distinctly different with each rebirth, living a short number of years until the day he inevitably dies.

Silver is immortal, and yet he is not. He lives on as the royal, the prince, a beacon of hope—

But Silver the person changes, with each new looping cycle.

(And so he reads through their journals, no matter how much it exhausts him.)

Many a time, his gaze wanders to his bedroom window.

As the sole heir to the royal family, Silver resides in the largest chambers of the castle, a sprawling set of multiple rooms, from a drawing room to receive guests, to his private bedroom where he slumbers at night. What this also means is that he is privy to the best views of everything within his kingdom, from the area stretching across the castle grounds, to the rest of the kingdom beyond tall and guarded stone walls.

There are many things for him to peer at, but today, he is gazing at the soldiers’ barracks again. They have their own section of the castle, tucked out of the way, but Silver can view them from the sanctity of his study, a room where he pens his thoughts in his journal and reads through old ones.

The emotion that dwells within him is nigh imperceptible, difficult to describe. It feels as though someone has tied a rope around his ribcage, double-knotting it and pulling it tight before tugging at it, and pulling him forward. There are twinges and pangs that cross his heart, a hollow cavern yawning as his soul collapses into itself.

He feels this as he stares out the window at the soldiers training in their courtyard. His eyes fixate on the swords in their hands, at the way they slash and thwack their weapons against straw-stuffed training dummies. Occasionally, he will spot the soldiers gathering together, jumping and yelling as two of them spar with wooden swords, all of them oblivious to his peeping.

He wants this. He longs for this. He—

“Your majesty?”

Silver blinks. It takes him a split second, pulling himself out of his thoughts, shoving away the deep desires that permeate his heart, but he quickly turns around, eyes fixating on the familiar figure in the doorway.

“Malleus,” Silver greets, shoulders relaxing as a smile slips onto his face. Of course it is Malleus; there are few who have his explicit permission to enter without needing to knock, and his physician is one of them. He waves his hand, ushering him in. “How long have you been standing there? Come on in, take a seat wherever you’d like. And what have I said about the formalities?”

Malleus is here for another check-up, and Silver gladly acquiesces. He can think of no other person he trusts more with his very life and soul than Malleus himself. He allows the man to lead him through familiar routines, magic permeating his body as he searches for something Silver cannot see, before shifting to more physical methods of testing Silver’s health.

Still, as Malleus works in a near-silence, preferring to focus and get his duties done before they can relax and spend some time together, Silver cannot help his thoughts from wandering off again. His desires are not new; he has seen them expressed across multiple journals, scrawled in identical, curling scripts across expensive parchment. The desire to pick up a weapon, to learn to fight and defend, to learn how to wield a blade like a true prince — that is what he so desires.

But he is frail, and the council insists that he stays in, that he can learn to fight once they break the curse. So never, Silver thinks bitterly, eyelids slipping shut as he feels cold claws brush against his forehead. Never in this lifetime, and not while I’m alive.

Malleus is many things.

To the populace, he has many names, many signifiers, viewed in many different ways. He is a blessing and a curse, for his magic is by far the only thing that can cure their prince, but all of it comes at the cost of his very existence itself: A fae; a deplorable, wicked creature; a monster that is the very scum of the earth itself. The history of their kingdom is written in the blood of their ancestors, shed through grievous wounds inflicted by the sharp claws and gleaming maws of the fae that slaughtered them all.

To the nobles, the members of the council who govern over the kingdom in Silver’s stead, making decisions on his behest, Malleus is something they tolerate. They do not speak of what will happen after the curse is broken and Silver is cured, but Silver knows, from their whispers and sly glances, from the words penned by the others who came before him, that they wish for nothing more than to rid the world of the last of the wicked — not, and never, fair — fae.

Humans gaze upon Malleus with distrust, wariness, abject hatred.

But for Silver, Malleus is one simple thing alone.

To him, Malleus is his friend.

There are two distinct points in the history of Silver’s incarnations: Before Malleus, and After Malleus.

The difference is like night and day. The journals of before are dismal and depressing, imbued with a bone-deep loneliness that carried all the way through into the parchment pages, stained in the very ink used to scrawl thoughts across the pages. The Silvers of that time tried — truly, they did — to cling to hope, to believe in what their people believed: that one day, their prince would be freed from the shackles of his horrific curse.

But with the passing decades, the many years, the many Silvers that lived and died, they all seemed to suffer from the same truth: there was no cure in sight.

And then there was Malleus.

The guards found a young fae child today, lurking in the borders between what remains of the valley and the kingdom, his own handwriting reads, the parchment yellowed with age, the ink long-since dried. This, Silver knows, is the first point at which Malleus is mentioned, though not yet by name, tucked away in a notebook he recognises by the distinct fern-green colour of its cover. Even now, as I write this, I still cannot believe the abysmal state he was in upon meeting him. No child, whether human or otherwise, should have that many injuries on their body, and though I have had a stern word with those who found him, I fear for his safety.

He shall remain with me for the time being.

Though Silver does not have favourite journals — for such a concept is lost on him when all the journals are such a drag to read, recounting the day-to-day experiences of his past selves, a depressing fog seeming to permeate every page of words — this one is perhaps the closest one to such a concept. Because this journal is different — he clings to every word, phantom feelings of a fierce protectiveness flaring within him, as though this particular incarnation has stirred somewhere deep within him and seized his soul.

It is so painfully obvious how much his past self had cared for Malleus — taking care of him, granting him such patience and endless kindness, spending time with him teaching him the human tongue, of how to read and write. There is a page filled with endless delight upon learning the fae’s name, ink smudged together where the page reads Malleus. Their activities did not end at the crude essentials; there are sweeping recounts of games played together, of crayon drawings and delicious platters of sweet treats — and Silver aches when he reads every word of it, possessed by a longing to return to those simpler times, when Malleus was not his physician, and was merely his friend.

And this care is made so apparent by the last few pages, the cursive made shaky by the cold, approaching winds of Death. To the next Silver, it reads, take care of Malleus. If there is any hope of breaking this curse that ails me, it lies within the powers of the fair folk. And yet, the rest of the page is filled with sentiments, rather than explaining how Malleus is the key to breaking the curse:

I wish this could last forever, these sweet days of playing together. For much of my life, I have been haunted by a bleak loneliness, isolated by my circumstances, and haunted by the weight of all our pasts. I have never had any companions my age, and I know from my readings that all of my predecessors shared the same lonely fate. To indulge in such fleeting luxuries, to have someone to speak to as though we were on the same level, intimately so— it is a happiness unlike anything I have ever felt before.

Blotchy circles stain the pages, the ink smeared in places.

Things may be different from now on. I understand that the council wishes for him to begin his work when the next cycle begins. And it is with that knowledge that I must remind the next Silver: Malleus may be our physician, and he may be tasked with breaking our curse—

But before that, before any of that, he is our friend.

Never forget that, for as long as we may live.

“Thank you for joining me today.”

Wispy trails of steam rise from two cups of tea, sitting in elegant saucers. Before Silver, and in the middle of the round tea table, is a small spread of sweet delicacies: scones accompanied by small glass jars of jam; finger sandwiches, some filled with goat’s cheese and roasted pepper, others filled with cucumber and salmon; and a small, round cake, tiny enough that it’s perfect for just the two of them.

“Of course,” Malleus replies, his voice smooth as usual. He raises his head slightly, slitted-eyes roaming over the tea-time spread before them, before he dips his head. “I thank you for the invitation, your majesty.”

“We have been over this many times, Malleus,” Silver says, unable to hide the exhaustion that spills into his voice. “You need not refer to me by such formalities.”

He knows why Malleus does so, of course. The answer is written across several different journals — It is difficult for him to reacquaint himself with us in each new cycle, and I truly cannot blame him. How alienating must it be, to witness someone you grow close to, time and time again, look upon you with no familiarity in his eyes? There is another reason too, though one of mere speculation, for Malleus has never confessed the truth by his own tongue — Earlier today, I witnessed a council member chide Malleus for regarding me with such familiarity during our meeting. I do wonder if this may be another factor into those needless formalities.

Thankfully, Malleus always obliges whenever Silver asks this of him — though whether it is because Silver is his prince, or because Silver is his friend, he never knows. “Is there any occasion for this meeting, Prince Silver?” Malleus asks, as Silver beckons for him to help himself, unwilling to dig in first when the fae’s eyes are flickering over the food, glinting with hunger. I wonder if he has forgotten to eat again, Silver thinks. Malleus carries over a scone and a sandwich with his utensils, leaving the cake intact. “Not that I mind it, by any means; it is always a pleasure to spend time with you.”

“There is no special occasion,” Silver answers, finally reaching for the spread as Malleus cuts into his meal. “I… only wished to spend time with my friend.”

Their relationship is a strange, tenuous thing. There is undoubtedly a bond there, from the way that Silver always feels so safe and secure in Malleus’ presence, and the gentle way that Malleus treats him, always appearing whenever Silver calls for him. There are even some rare occasions where the facade of dutiful physician slips, a careful veneer crafted for the sake of survival in the court, and Silver relishes those times, watching as Malleus’ expression sours, the stinging barbs that spit from his mouth more endearing than his usual regal elegance.

But all the same, compared to the earlier journals after Malleus’ appearance, filled with much more warmth and life — even as he learnt his role, Malleus would still happily chat with those Silvers, accept his offers to play games, spend the night with him on many occasions — there is a gap between them now. Driven by age, driven by time, and driven by the eternal, scathing judgement of the many humans of this kingdom, who cycle in and out of life and death, but are all fuelled by the same spiteful hatred and prejudice, taking it out on the only fae they know.

Still, Silver tries his best. He knows Malleus does too.

He sees it in the way the fae’s shoulders relax, expression smoothing out at the edges. “In that case,” Malleus says, after a moment’s pause, “let us indulge. How have you been lately… Silver?”

It is a good day for the two of them, Silver reflects. They drink their cups of tea and drain the pot of its excess drink, and the tray of delicacies are filled with nothing but crumbs by the time they’re done.

Even the cake, a dessert regarded with conflicting feelings by Malleus, is finished by the end of it. For once, Malleus eats his slices with a small smile, both their forks scraping the bottom of the plate as they help themselves to their fill.

Death no longer scares him, unlike everyone else. Death, in its own way, is a comfort, an inevitability: Silver knows he will reach his demise at the same time, at the same age. Very few people can ever be privy to such knowledge, going through their lives not knowing if they will pass on at age fifteen or fifty.

In that vein, what does it matter if Silver chooses to speed up the process?

He is not allowed proper access to weaponry. The council states that it is because there is no need for him to pick up a blade when he has guardsmen patrolling the halls around his room at all times, but Silver knows better. This is not the first time he has longed to die earlier than he usually does; he can count the other occasions on two of his hands, based on cryptic journal endings dated months earlier than they usually do.

To an extent, a part of him wonders what the point of it is. He will die, inevitably; why inflict such pain and suffering if he knows he’s going to come back? What is the point of it all?

The point, Silver tells himself, is that there isn’t one. He’ll always come back. He’ll always return — and so why should he languish and rot in his bed as his body slowly gives out on him? Why waste those months feeling his muscles weaken and his grasp on reality slip?

Why not do everyone the honour of ending it early, ending it now?

(The silver blade of the dagger, requested from some rookie soldier who knows no better than to deny this particular request from the prince, is cold against the flesh covering his heart.)

Silver is so, so tired. His life is stagnant, unchanging; he lives and he dies the same person, the same name, the same cursed prince of the same bloody kingdom, every childhood filled with days of reading the same handwritten journals signed with the same, stupid name.

When will he be allowed to rest? The weight of a legacy, the weight of his people’s hopes and dreams, drag him down, like impossibly heavy weights that are shackled to his limbs, pulling and pulling until he’s flat against the ground. He never asked for this — and god, it’s so selfish to even think of that, but it’s true.

Nobody ever thinks about him, Silver the person. They are only ever concerned with Silver the prince, Silver their saviour.

Except—

A memory flashes to mind, unbidden — of twisting, dark horns and raven-spun hair, and slitted green eyes that crinkle at the corners as he smiles at him.

(His hands tremble.)

Malleus.

The name fills him with an ache. If there is anything Silver can take comfort in as he straddles the line between life and death, it is simply that Malleus will always be there. Malleus is a constant throughline throughout Silver’s life, and while Silver may ebb and flow, weaving in and out of the many, many years of a fae’s long lifespan, Malleus will always be there.

And though the thought of that face, rendered a child once more in its shock and sadness, causes his chest to knot itself with hesitance and reluctance, Silver steadies himself.

The humans may come and go, live and die, but Malleus will always remain.

(And the blade plunges down.)