#(i've made a mistake and now i must suffer)

[starmocha]

ok but listening to Sylus was a mistake (i'm now wet 😶😶😶😶😶)

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑬𝑷𝑰𝑪: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

Troy Saga ❛  do what i say and you'll see them again.  ❜ ❛  what do you live for? what do you try for?  ❜ ❛  say no more, i know tat i'm ready.  ❜ ❛  the blood on your hands is something you won't lose.  ❜ ❛  is the price i pay endless pain?  ❜ ❛  something feels off here, i see fire but there's no smoke.  ❜ ❛  we should try to find a way no one ends up dead.  ❜ ❛  why should we take when we could give?  ❜ ❛  i see in your face, there's so much guilt inside your heart.  ❜ ❛  have you forgotten the lessons i taught you?  ❜

The Cyclops Saga ❛  it's almost too perfect, too god to be true.  ❜ ❛  what gives you the right to deal a pain so deep?  ❜ ❛  your life now is in my hand.  ❜ ❛  remember them, we're the ones who carry on.  ❜ ❛  what good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?  ❜ ❛  i am your darkest moment.  ❜ ❛  i don't know where i went wrong but i warned ya', and you failed the test.  ❜ ❛  that's just like you, why should i be surprised?  ❜ ❛  unlike you, every time someone dies i'm left to deal with the strain.  ❜ ❛  i'll remind you i saw you as a friend but now we're done.  ❜

The Ocean Saga ❛  at this rate, we won't make it out alive.  ❜ ❛  please don't tell me you're about to do what i think you'll do.  ❜ ❛  yes, but how much longer til your luck runs out?  ❜ ❛  you rely on wit, and people die on it.  ❜ ❛  you're like the brother i could never do without.  ❜ ❛  and suddenly you doubt that i could figure this out?  ❜ ❛  keep your friends close and your enemies closer, never really know who you can trust.  ❜ ❛  'cause the end always justifies the means.  ❜ ❛  do you know who i am?  ❜ ❛  you are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great.  ❜

The Circe Saga ❛  whatever you need to say can wait some more.  ❜ ❛  there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save.  ❜ ❛  wouldn't you like a taste of the power?  ❜ ❛  don't thank me friend, you very well may die.  ❜ ❛  did you do something to them?  ❜ ❛  if you make one wrong move, then you're done for.  ❜ ❛  you and i are now evenly matched.  ❜ ❛  you've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.  ❜ ❛  who's to say, with the mistakes i've made that they will be the last mistakes i ever make?  ❜ ❛  this is the price we pay to love.  ❜

The Underworld Saga ❛  all i hear are screams, every time i dare to close my eyes.  ❜ ❛  i no longer dream, only nigtmares of those who've died.  ❜ ❛  when does a man become a monster?  ❜ ❛  now you tell us our effort's are for nothing?  ❜ ❛  how has everything been turned against us?  ❜ ❛  do i need to change?  ❜ ❛  i'm the only one whose line i haven't crossed.  ❜ ❛  what if i'm the problem that's been hiding all along?  ❜ ❛  what if i've been far too kind to foes but a monster to ourselves?  ❜ ❛  if i became the monster and threw that guilt away would that make us stronger?  ❜

The Thunder Saga ❛  you wouldn't have spared me. i made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life.  ❜ ❛  i've got a secret i can no longer keep.  ❜ ❛  you know that we are the same.  ❜ ❛  we must do what it takes to survive.  ❜ ❛  tell me you did not know that would happen.  ❜ ❛  if you want all the power, you must carry all the blame.  ❜ ❛  how are we supposed to trust you now?  ❜ ❛  how much longer must i suffer now?  ❜ ❛  someone's gotta die today and you have got the final say.  ❜ ❛  please don't make me do this.  ❜

The Wisdom Saga ❛  you've made your worst mistake here.  ❜ ❛  this cruel world doesn't give out presents just for being good.  ❜ ❛  you're my friend, i couldn't ask for more.  ❜ ❛  did you know you talk in your sleep?  ❜ ❛  i'm what you want here, i'm what you need here.  ❜ ❛  you don't know what i've gone through.  ❜ ❛  i know your life's been hard, i'll stay inside your heart.  ❜ ❛  life would be so much worse if you had died.  ❜ ❛  you dare to defy me, to make me feel shame?  ❜ ❛  no one beats me, no one wins my game.  ❜

[goodnightmemes]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price.

❛ War is coming, to the whole of the realm.❜

❛ I am indebted to you. ❜

❛ I'm afraid. ❜

❛ We should've just killed her when we had the chance. ❜

❛ When the king speaks, Your Grace, all hear it. ❜

❛ I find myself wondering...do we pursue the same end? ❜

❛ You must accept that the path to victory now is one of violence. ❜

❛ Did you think I would wither in your absence? ❜

❛ You only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❜

❛ She holds love for our enemy. That makes her a fool. ❜

❛ I promise you, you will have all the vengeance that you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❜

❛ Do anything but what I ask, and I'll bleed the whole lot of ya. ❜

❛ The gods punish us. They punish me. ❜

❛ This is not the time for blind accusations. We'll know who did this soon enough. ❜

❛ I will not be seen as weak. ❜

❛ Sometimes, we have to pretend. ❜

❛ I cannot trust you. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. ❜

❛ You think me some kind of monster. ❜

❛ You're pathetic. ❜

❛ We can afford no further mistakes. ❜

❛ You are mad. Mad! You cannot think that I did this! ❜

❛ You would send me to my death. ❜

❛ I would remind you only that when princes lose their temper, it is often others who suffer. ❜

❛ I see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❜

❛ For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. ❜

❛ I wish to spill blood, not ink! ❜

❛ Instead of judgment, you display impetuousness, and diminish us in the eyes of our enemy! ❜

❛ Fuck dignity! I want revenge. ❜

❛ They wish now not for the good of the realm, but for the petty satisfaction of vengeance. ❜

❛ Soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❜

❛ There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❜

❛ I'm as fearsome as any of them. ❜

❛ You showed me grace when you could have withheld it. I'm not often surprised. ❜

❛ I cannot promise to make you happy. But I ask you: make this sacrifice willingly, for all of us. ❜

❛ If you've not yet surmised, you are welcome here. ❜

❛ Sin begets sin begets sin. ❜

❛ If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. ❜

❛ Do not coddle me. Grant me at least that dignity. ❜

❛ Sadness is a condition of motherhood. ❜

❛ You have as much claim to grief as anyone. ❜

❛ Tales take on a life of their own, like weeds. Unless they are tended. ❜

❛ Always coming and going, aren't you? And I have to clean up afterwards. ❜

❛ You will die in this place. ❜

❛ I have been, at times, unkind, but never untrue. ❜

❛ You must go before you are discovered. ❜

❛ Your mother must've been very beautiful. ❜

❛ You should've burned them when you had the chance. ❜

❛ Is there no honor left in this world? ❜

❛ This is a better death than a traitor deserves. You should thank me for it. ❜

❛ I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies. ❜

❛ I believe it is a sin to deny your appetites. They are what make us fully alive as mortal men. ❜

❛ If I may be so bold, you have not seemed yourself of late. ❜

❛ I've barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy before suffering the next. ❜

❛ I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough. ❜

❛ Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❜

❛ You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne. ❜

❛ What would you have me do? ❜

❛ Do simply what is needed of you: nothing. ❜

❛ Where have you been, these last days? You vanished without so much as a word.❜

❛ There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing. ❜

❛ If you die, all is lost. ❜

❛ The horrors I have just loosed cannot be for a crown alone. ❜

❛ Do you take issue with me? ❜

❛ I can sit still no longer. I must act. ❜

❛ I did not think they would be so eager to die. ❜

❛ I need them alive. I came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❜

❛ Will you goad me? When your bread and shelter now depend on my pleasure? ❜

❛ I mislike feeling powerless. ❜

❛ I do not know my part. The path I walk has never been trod. ❜

❛ What you cannot do, let others do for you. ❜

❛ There is more than one way to fight a war. ❜

❛ I do not wish to stand alone. ❜

❛ Has your loyalty faded? Or does it flourish only at night and flee the sunrise like a moth? ❜

❛ What we must do now is... terrible. ❜

❛ This is not war. These are crimes against the innocent, that any upright man would repudiate. ❜

❛ And once again, in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure. ❜

❛ Was it worth the price? ❜

❛ I caution you, boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❜

❛ You have the impetuousness of youth, and its arrogance, neither of which is to be desired in a king. ❜

❛ Have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❜

❛ To claim a dragon, you must also be prepared to die. ❜

❛ You can't possibly still be angry about this. ❜

❛ You weren't going to bid me farewell? ❜

❛ It is your way, is it not? When something does not please you, you run. ❜

❛ There are older things in this world than you or I, or living memory. ❜

❛ You are not the player, but a piece on the board. As am I, for that matter. ❜

❛ It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❜

❛ It was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❜

❛ The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. ❜

❛ Do you take me for a fool? ❜

❛ Oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❜

❛ Stop wasting your life waiting for something that'll never come. ❜

❛ I'm sure you did your best. ❜

❛ They will underestimate you, and this will be your advantage. ❜

❛ If the gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them? ❜

❛ Nothing is clean here. ❜

❛ The order of things has changed. Why not embrace it? ❜

❛ It does seem to me that you've made rather a mess here. ❜

❛ I don't need their love. I need their swords. ❜

❛ Mind your tongue. ❜

❛ I mislike all of this. ❜

❛ It seems you need us more than we need you. ❜

❛ So, what was the fucking point in all this then? ❜

❛ It's best to live, I think. However you do it. ❜

❛ You are not alone. ❜

❛ Will you prepare to face such an enemy? Or will you stay here and make yourself easy? ❜

❛ If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness, I will see you hanged, and your body fed to the dogs in the street. ❜

❛ You've arrived just in time to see my new army. What do you think of it? ❜

❛ This place will have you barking at the moon. ❜

❛ We must all make our sacrifices. ❜

❛ 'Tis no longer our rule that is threatened, our very lives. ❜

❛ Perhaps all men are corrupt and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❜

❛ The dragons dance, and men are like dust under their feet. ❜

❛ We march now toward our annihilation. ❜

❛ There will be time enough to see which one of us is a coward. ❜

❛ There are omens here for those who seek them. ❜

❛ It's all a story and you are but one part in it. You know your part. ❜

❛ I am meant to serve you, and all of these with me, until death or the end of our story. ❜

❛ Be strong. You know you are just. ❜

❛ History will paint you a villain. ❜

❛ I am at last myself, with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed and be free. ❜

❛ You speak as if from a distant dream. ❜

❛ Come with me. ❜

❛ My part is here, whether I will or no. It was decided for me long ago. ❜

[oepionie]

—"POETIC RIZZ" various

SYNOPSIS: Horrible 3AM post—Just a bunch of random quotes/lines from various shows & books that i mixed together (Also diasomnia has the best rizz ngl)

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT RIDDLE ONCE SAID

"In vain, I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. One word from you will silence me on this subject forever. And so I beg you, most fervently, to relieve my suffering and consent to be my lover."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT DEUCE ONCE SAID

“This feeling has possessed me, I think and...I wanted to tell you that wherever you may end up in this world, I will be searching for you. I'm not afraid of anything now. I finally understand. I'm in love. We're in love. That means we'll meet again. I'm sure of it. ”

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT LEONA ONCE SAID

"I had not intended to love but now, I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. And I will love you until I die, and if there is life after that, I'll love you then. You're more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT RUGGIE ONCE SAID

“I love you but I know it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; I'm gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you; forever and everyday.—I am who I am because of you. You are every reason, every hope, and every dream I've ever had, and no matter what happens to us in the future, everyday we are together is the greatest day of my life."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT AZUL ONCE SAID

"I desire more…than what's within my reach. Who blames me? Many call me discontented. I couldn't help it: the greed is in my nature. Please just bear with me. You pierce through my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT JADE ONCE SAID

"I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.I long for you; I who usually longs without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you. Moreover, you are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT FLOYD ONCE SAID

"I heard what you said. I’m not the sappy romantic you think. I don’t want the heavens or the shooting stars. I don’t want seaglass or shiny pearls. I have all those things already. I want…you. A steady hand. A kind soul. I want to fall asleep, and wake, knowing my heart is safe. I want to love you, and be loved by you."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT IDIA ONCE SAID

"My Persephone, I would have chosen you a thousand times over, the Fates be damned. Even if they unraveled our destiny, I would find a way back to you. All my heart is yours: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT VIL ONCE SAID

"Darling you are mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing about the sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own. Now, tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you, anyway. Yes, you make mistakes, are out of control and at times hard to handle. But if I can't handle you at your worst, then I surely don't deserve you at your best."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT ROOK ONCE SAID

"In beauty of face and soul, no maiden ever equaled you. If I were to be blinded the moment I laid eyes upon your incandescent form, I would not grieve, for in that very instance I have truly gazed upon everlasting beauty."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT LILIA ONCE SAID

"Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad. But I beg of you do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you. Oh, God..It is unutterable. I can not live without you in my life. I can not live without my soul. It is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT MALLEUS ONCE SAID

“I have little left in myself—I must have you. The world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT SEBEK ONCE SAID

"I am a gentleman. I have been raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence. You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT SILVER ONCE SAID

"I have a strange feeling with regard to you. On some days—I have dreamed and wished I was one of your tears. To be born in your eyes, roll down your cheeks, and to die on your lips."

[sareeen]

Meaningful words

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: A lonely night without Azriel is hard enough for Y/N, but when she gets a terribly sad book in her hands, she feels a thousand times worse. Luckily, Azriel is always there when she needs him and can calm her down like no one else.

Warnings: nothing, just fluff :)… maybe at the end a little dark azriel

Masterlist

A/N: After months of hard times, today I finally had the time and the will to write. With this little story today I would like to wish you all a Merry Christmas in advance :)

English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake.

Damn you, Nesta.

Y/N could hardly see the letters because of the tears in her eyes and the bottom of the page was already wet in several places. She felt so miserable that she wanted to throw the book away and lie there for two days, weeping in the depths of the bedclothes.

But the story sucked her in, the heroine's suffering and grief dug into her like sharp claws, and she was unable to put the book down. As Azriel was on a mission all night and she could not sleep for lack of it, she took the book that Nesta had borrowed to her. She told her it was a sad story and surely if Nesta Archeron called something depressing then it must be so.

As she kept turning the pages, the harder it was to restrain herself from reaching for the bond with the spymaster and tugging at it, then begging him to come home. But, with great difficulty, she managed to control herself and behave like an adult. However, in the last few hours, as the sun began to rise, she looked at the clock more and more and sat on pins and needles to hear the front door open.

When she started another chapter and the protagonist was hit with yet another worse blow, as if the poor thing hadn't already had a hard time, she sobbed so much that she missed the opening of the door by just the wrong margin.

Azriel stood frozen, his broad shoulders almost filling the doorframe and panting heavily as if he had run all the way home from the Illyrian camp.

"What's wrong?" he stepped inside immediately after the first shock and rushed straight to their bed.

"Stupid book."

The words were almost unintelligible and Y/N pointed the thick book towards him like some kind of idiot and handed it to him.

Azriel held it in his huge hands, clueless, and it was obvious that he didn't understand the situation at all. He looked so lost, which was so unlike him, that if the situation had been different Y/N would have laughed.

But she felt so lousy she just tried not to cry any harder.

It was almost consuming him, it seemed, to see her like this and not know exactly what was wrong with her and how he could help her. So, he just lay next to her, dressed in his battle clothes as he was, and pulled her onto his chest.

It made Y/N cry even more.

"It's so sad," Y/N poked the hard cover of the book. "Nesta gave it to me and now I feel so awful."

Azriel kissed her hair and mumbled something that sounded too much like I'm going to kill that woman.

"Then why are you reading it, sweetheart?" his warm hand traced soothing circles down her back, making her feel a little better. At least enough to form meaningful and complex sentences, and not like some one and a half year old child.

"Because it's so good by the way," she whispered, pressing her palm against Azriel's chest, right where his heart was beating. A small relief welled up inside her and she stroked the leather.

“But it's so sad because Adja the main heroine is losing her mate. He was wounded during a battle and the healers couldn't save him, and then he died."

A shiver ran through her as Azriel's arm tightened around her, almost pulling her into him.

"I've been thinking about what I would do" Y/N sniffed. "If you died, I don't know what I would do. I'd probably jump off the nearest cliff I could find and go after you."

Azriel took a deep breath at her words and cupped her face in his two scarred hands. Y/N looked at him with teary eyes and the way his partner looked at her, with that devotion and adoration, she was absolutely certain that she would indeed go after him to death.

"My love" he gave her a soft kiss on the lips and then wiped away the tear that trailed down her cheek. "I'm not going to die."

"You can't promise me that" Y/N argued at once. "No one can promise that."

Azriel smiled and gave her another kiss.

His lips were warm and soft on hers, causing Y/N's arm to unconsciously wrap around his neck and pull him closer. Their legs tangled together under the blanket and Azriel's shadows retreated to the corner, as if they didn't want to share this intimate moment.

When they broke apart, Azriel's finger brushed her cheek with a breathless caress. The golden-brown eyes almost glowed and Y/N could have sworn they sparkled slightly. She knew that her mate sometimes still struggled to accept that she really loved him. Every once in a while, her heart sank when she sensed through the bond that Azriel doubted himself and at such times she always made sure to surprise him with something to prove that he deserved it more than anyone.

"Indeed not, but I can promise you that I will do my best to stay alive" he grinned and playfully pinched her bottom. "I'll do my best to come home to this pretty little bottom every night."

To enhance his words, he gently patted the said body part.

Y/N gasped in surprise at the sensation and slapped his shoulder, but her mouth was already up to her ears. She felt much, much better thanks to Azriel.

"Good, because you're never leaving the house again" Y/N raised an eyebrow, then added jokingly. "Besides, it's not nice that your partner tearfully admits what she would do if you were gone and all you could think about was her butt. You know, other men would return the favor in a heartbeat, with words like I'd burn the world for you."

Azriel laughed and rolled over, pushing her body with his huge one almost into the mattress, which made Y/N sigh happily.

"Really?" The spymaster asked, brushing her stray hairs from her forehead.

"Yes," Y/N answered seriously, but there was laughter in her voice.

Azriel slowly leaned in to her ear and Y/N shivered with excitement as he began to whisper.

"Do you want to know what I would do if you died?" the spymaster said, but his grip on the words grew a little steely, as if the very thought of it was driving him mad. "I would cover the whole world in darkness and blood, hunt everyone down and when I had finished with all the sinners and all their loved ones, I would end my life and follow you to the afterlife. Proudly and without thinking, because if you no longer exist then the whole world is meaningless and I wouldn't want to exist in it."

Y/N's fingers tangled in Azriel's dark hair.

"That was better than a I'd burn the world down."

Azriel's dark laughter filled the apartment.

"I would do more for you."

[finniestoncrane]

Arkham!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1.2k it's SHAVING AS A SIGN OF INTIMACY TIME listen this might be the beginning of several on this theme it's a kink i've loved for a while!! anyway, eddie has requested some assistance with shaving from reader, who he has decided he trusts enough to hold a razor to his tender skin *drool* also i'm not sorry for how autistic eddie is about his question mark shirt, he is literally me 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: little bit of humorous threats, shaving, flirting, suggestive towards the end

"Must be painful for you, having to ask for help."

"And it might be painful for you to suffer the consequences of your insolent tone."

You lifted your hand up, holding the handle of the very old fashioned razor blade between your fingers and dangling it in front of him.

"And it might be even more painful for you to suffer the consequences of your own shitty attitude if you don't behave."

With a playful smile, you pressed a finger below his chin, lifting it up, noting the smile that curled slightly on his lips, one he was trying to suppress in favour of remaining stoic in your presence.

"You know, Eddie, if you would take proper rests between working on your projects you wouldn't make so many mistakes."

The blade was close to him, not close enough that it made contact with him, but enough that he was lucky you pulled it back quickly enough when he lifted his head once more.

"I don't make mistakes! I have suffered a minor injury to three of my fingers, a consequence of poor tools. It's difficult to source higher quality material when you're a known and wanted entity."

You gently tilted his head back once more, nodding along to his rants, knowing by now when it would be a futile effort to argue with him. And by the time he had finished rambling, you were ready with the blade and the shaving cream, both in hand as you stared him down, patiently waiting for him to be quiet.

"Well? Are you going to get on with it?"

He barked the question at you, and you prepared yourself to begin, stopping short as he raised a hand.

"Hold on. I don't want you to make a mess of my shirt."

He shrugged the green, paint stained, short-sleeved shirt from his slender torso, leaving him in just a low cut, torn vest.

"You're very clumsy."

"Eddie. Clumsy enough that you're worried I'll ruin your already disgusting shirt, but not so clumsy that you'll trust me with a sharpened blade against your throat?"

For a moment, you had him stuck. He didn't have an argument, any words, you seemed to have caught him. But instead of replying, he simply sighed and waved you off.

"The texture of these fresh hairs on my face is far more annoying than any potential nicks, life-threatening or otherwise. This shirt is the only one I own, and it's to the exact fit I like it after the years of wear."

"Your priorities are interesting."

"I'm interesting."

That was his rebuttal, and he was satisfied with it. So you began your work, carefully placing your palm against his cheek. A soft touch, a careful carress, a gesture of reassurance. You cared for him, despite the playful teasing, the insistence on his part that you were only a disposable assitant. You went above and beyond, in awe of him, unable to resist the urge to worship him. You wouldn't let harm come to him by your hands, that's what the touch meant.

And the fact that he seemed to trust you, regardless of whether that was pushed onto him by the circumstances, meant the world in return.

As the razor made it's first pass over his skin, he seemed to raise himself up slightly, a natural reaction to the cool of the metal. So you laid your hand on his chest, pressing him back down and keeping it there. His heartbeat was steady, skin clammy against yours, a brush of soft hair coating his chest.

While you were't able to detect any change in Eddie's demeanour, he was worrying that you could. The moment you touched him he had felt his blood run cold. The threat, the imminent danger, the possibility that you could, at any moment, take his life. But the odd certainty that you wouldn't. It was all swirling through his mind, picking up flecks of the ill-timed arousal as it went.

Each teasing touch felt like it made his heart beat just a little bit faster, and he could feel sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and under the foam on his upper lip. His body grew warmer, worked up in response to the intimacy, the delicate, tender way you handled both him and the potential weapon. And then it happened.

He squirmed slightly, hoping to adjust himself in a way that prevented his growing erection from becoming obvious. If he could keep your focus on his face, on the job at hand, then he might be able to calm himself down before he embarrassed himself. But the more you touched, the more aroused he became, hard against the front of his pants, and then, disaster occurring as his precum leaked out, staining a tiny mark on the front at his crotch.

Eddie's mind quickly flitted through the catalogue of quick excuses he could think of. He could play this off as a natural reaction. An expected response to someone touching him and being this close to him. Nothing to do with you or his deep attraction to you.

He could admit that the intimacy was exciting, allow a sliver of vulnerability to show as he confessed that it was one area that he wasn't all that experienced in.

Throw a curveball? Tell you that the danger was far more arousing that he imagined? That could backfire though, as he was well aware of how irritating he was, and inciting, or inviting, violence might not go as well for him as he hoped it might.

And finally, the ridiculous notion of proudly displaying the effect of your touch flashed through and was quickly stomped out. There was no way he would be able to play it off with any amount of confidence or charisma, and it would take a considerable amount indeed. But now it was in his head, the idea that you might be encouraged, enticed, by his arousal. Enough that it would strike a chord within you, making you as hot and needy as he was. That you might letyour hand trail down the front of his shirt, fingers skimming over the growing, throbbing bulge, offering, perhaps, to shave there too. To finish him off with a flourish. To hold him, touch him, until he-

"Edward?"

He snapped his head towards you, cheeks flushed and pupils wide as he came bck down to earth from his flight of fantasy.

"Edward, are you alright? You didn't answer..."

"I'm fine. my mind was elsewhere. You know how it is being a genius, or... you don't actually. But if you did, you'd know it was difficult to stop your brain from rattling through equations and plans and world changing ideas. So forgive me if I automatically reverted to paying attention to that instead of you."

Deciding to meet him with his own attitude, you tossed a towel towards him as you walked towards the sink, dropping the razor in as you spoke.

"Well, if that's a close enough shave you can wipe the foam off now. And maybe use the towel to clean yourself up further down too."

You had noticed. And you were teasing him.

And worse than that, the insolence, the cruel taunt that suggested you considered yourself good enough to stand toe to toe with him, he found that it only made him harder.

[alessiathepirate]

Until Dawn

A SMALL JOY: Josh Washington x fem!reader

Summary: Taking Dr Hill's advice, Josh and his lover go up to the lodge and look through all the things his sisters had left behind - after an interesting find she does her best to take his mind off the sadness he's experiencing.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

To be honest, Until Dawn is still one of my favourite horror games. Thanks to the game I found my favourite YouTube channel, my English improved a lot because I wanted to understand every word, and I have a huge crush on Rami Malek to this very day. Me and my friends were obsessed with him the time the game came out, and soon started to watch more of his work together.

Josh Washington was one of my first fictional crushes, I could defend him for years without getting tired and I drew him so many times I actually learned how to draw portraits correctly.

There's a gameplay I like to rewatch every year, because of the great memories I have connected to it. I always fall in love with Josh Washington once again - and thanks to that tradition, I started to write for him as well.

Warnings: a bit of swearing, mentioned depression and loss, mentioning the Washington sisters' disappearance and/or death

•••

° "(...) We would come up in the summer and we would have the best time. The whole family was there - mom, dad, my sisters. It was some serious competition out there on the big lawn... I don't know. Can't go back. New reality." °

She listens carefully, noticing every little pitch or drop in Josh's voice as he speaks - and as he puts down the baseball bat all she can think about is grabbing him and pulling him into a hug, a tight one, the kind that is both loving and comforting. She watches him, she examines his every little move and her heart aches every single time she finds a new sign of sadness.

She hates it.

She hates that look on his face. She hates that change in his voice. She hates that he feels alone. She hates that the whole case is making him go crazy. She hates that nothing is certain and he can't even grieve.

She hates that he had to change so much; that he had to become this depressed because of some stupid, messed up prank their friends had decided to pull on his sister.

He didn't deserve any of it. He doesn't deserve any of it. None of the Washington kids do.

Coming up here was already hard - back to the mountain where Hannah and Beth disappeared, where they played around like stupid teenagers do. Dr Hill said it's for the best - Josh needs some closure, some proof that he needs to slowly start to move on. She thinks it's bullshit - Josh thinks so too. It won't be easy to put yourself through something like this.

But regardless, they came. They are here now, looking through the rooms, the basement...

The memories are hurting her - and if she as a friend is hurting this badly than Josh must suffer a lot.

"Teach me." the words suddenly burst out before she can stop them, wanting to make Josh concentrate on something else - not wanting him to get lost in his own mind.

"What?" the question is loud in the basement.

"Teach me how to play." she continues on, feeling unsure like she tries to cross a very thin and sensitive line. "I've never played baseball before."

"It's been a while since I did so." Josh starts to explain, his gaze falling on the bat he put down. "You really- want to?"

She steps closer to him slowly, carefully, as if she tries to get close to a very scared and wounded animal. She touches his arm, her fingers hold him as her thumb brushes along his skin in an up and down motion. She leans towards him, her face touching his shoulder as she presses a kiss to the area what isn't covered by his t-shirt.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." she whispers. "I know it's not-" she holds that thought and says something else instead: "I just haven't seen you play yet and I want to join in."

Josh looks at her over his shoulder, he looks at her as she tries to smile even if her eyes stay sad. He watches her like she's the only thing he has left, like she's the only person who matters anymore. He looks at her and feels something break inside, realizing that she really is the only one who he has.

"All right." he says and when he sees her eyes change a tiny bit - showing a bit of happiness - he feels his heart flutter. It makes him feel better, it makes him want to touch her too, putting his hand over hers - over the one which is still clinging onto his arm. "As long as you promise me you won't accidentally hit yourself with the bat."

And there's what he wanted to see - her expression changes, playful offence takes the sadness' place and she gently hits his back.

"Hey! I wouldn't do that."

"You totally wouldn't." his sarcasm earns him another punch and despite the situation and the place, he feels like he got something back.

The last time they bickered like this was half a year ago, the night his sisters had disappeared. They drank and played around until they started to make out in the kitchen, only stopping when Chris stepped inside the room wanting some booze for himself.

As they climb the stairs hand in hand they both feel somewhat relieved. They found a kind of small joy, a bit of happiness - something what they had left here months ago. Josh chuckles when she trips and almost falls, she feels excited as he hands her the baseball bat outside.

"Since there're only the two of us here, I think it's best I teach you how to hit the ball and not yourself."

"I'm not that clumsy Mister!" she tries to sound offended, but it doesn't work.

"I know you too well, girl; and I don't trust you with that at all."

Josh stands behind her, keeping a gentle hold on both of her arms as he explains how to stand and how to hold the bat. She chuckles when he playfully tickles her and this time she doesn't feel guilty about laughing. Before he lets go of her to throw the ball, he gives her a short hug and presses a kiss into the crook of her neck.

She misses the first time...

and the second time; and the third time...

She misses and Josh laughs and she thinks it's the most beautiful sight she's ever seen.

They change positions after a while and no matter how she throws, Josh never misses - not even once. He hits the ball every single time and it flies and lands far away.

She has the feeling that in that very moment, doing that very thing they both feel somewhat complete. She feels like Josh's smiles are honest, his laughs are honest and she forgets about Dr Hill and his stupid advice.

"No shit you like to play it." she says after a while as the both of them are lying in the grass, her head resting on Josh's arm. "It is fun."

"Believe me darling, it is much more fun when you actually hit the ball." his voice has a teasing edge to it and for a moment she thinks about turning towards him and hitting him playfully once again - but she doesn't.

Instead - hoping to get something more, trying to get a kind of good change out of him, she says: "I will, after a bit more training. You'll teach me, I have no doubt about that."

Josh turns towards her, gently touching her face and playing with her hair. She tries to read his face and she realizes that he understands what she's playing at. She wonders if he'll get upset or sad... but she gets an answer pretty quickly.

"I will - of course I will. You'll be the best player in this damn country."

The muscles in her face twitch and she feels like she'll cry. It's been so long, so long since Josh smiled and laughed that now seeing it again feels like a whole new experience. She doesn't want to leave the place or the moment. It's too nice.

"Better than you?"

"Way better." he promises and lets go of the lock of hair he's been playing with. "I love you, you know that, right?"

She feels frozen at the question and starts to wonder where it's coming from. The doubt in his voice, the softness in his eyes... He deserves the world, he deserves everything in it and he deserves to know that he does enough for her - she feels his love and every single emotion and action it causes.

"Of course I do... I know." she promises. "I love you too. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

It's her turn to lean in and she kisses him, making sure the kiss is soft and calm. She wants to make him feel whole and safe. She wants him to be happy.

They lay back down and stay quiet for a bit, enjoying the sunlight and the light summer breeze. She feels like she could melt. Melt into the feeling and moment forever, without ever getting bored.

"You know," Josh starts suddenly, his voice soft and unsure. "it's been a while since I've taken you out on a date."

"It's fine, Josh. These past months weren't exactly the best."

"No... I know." for a few moments he stays silent, not knowing what to say. "All I want to say is I have a few movies here we can watch and we can have a nice time before we-"

"-go back to them." she finishes, understanding what he means.

Them. All the friends, all the family members and pals who show an annoying amount of pity. All of those people who try to comfort Josh when doesn't want to do anything with them. The people who make him feel worse than better.

"I'd love that." she smiles at him as he turns towards him and hugs him. "But no horror."

"No horror." Josh nods.

It wouldn't be good for either of them.

She kisses his shoulder as they get going, stretching their muscles, before climbing the stairs to go and find the movies Josh was talking about.

As they look over his DVDs while hugging, all she can think about is how unfair life is, because Josh doesn't deserve any of the problems life threw at him...

[myntrose]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊redemption𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

ft: Zhongli x gender neutral! Reader

cn: hurt no comfort :D, sagau/imposter au! , golden blood au! , mentions of blood and attack, attempted execution, use of Zhongli's archon name, slighty cultish theme, grammar

a/n: y'all the absolute CHOKEHOLD that sagau! has on me is insane (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) i wrote this with spite due to zhongli never coming home to me. y'all i've lost 50/50 to his all banners t-t

word count: 731

song on replay: Shinunoga E-Wa by Fujii Kaze

"...goodbye~ Oh don't you ever say bye bye, yeah"

He knows he doesn't have the right to be jealous. He knows that the the heaviness is heart is something he deserves, a sliver of punishment he must feel for causing you all the pain and suffering you endured.

To this day, months after the incident, he can still feel the blood, your golden blood, on his hands. It's ironic, really. Zhongli, or Morax, the God of Contracts, the God of War. Everything he did was in your name. As the oldest amongst gods and mortals, he always prided himself as your most loyal follower. He strived to protect your name against blasphemy.

In his nightmares he can still hear your voice. The tremble of your pleads. The shaking "please, spare me" and "mercy".

more utc!

This is just a dream, you told yourself. You were sending your day like you do most others. Following the same routine, passing by the same buildings and houses like every other day. Nothing seemed off, until you awoke from your sleep to realize that you were no longer in your world.

Maybe you would have felt excited. In Teyvat, you could have had a chance to meet all your favorites, all your comfort characters. After all, everyone treated the Traveler, an outsider from another world, well. What difference would it be as another outsider as yourself?

Your breath grew heavy, and your feet started to drag along the earth below you. How did you even get to this position? All you wanted was to find a friendly face, perhaps Amber or another one to the Knights of Favonius.

Running from Mondstadt to Liyue was no easy journey. While it was the people who were after your head, you could only thank whatever force allowed for the other creatures to stay away from your path. The hilicurls never seemed to notice you; the slimes would sometimes lead you towards places to hide.

You hoped the people of Liyue would give you a different welcome than those of Mondstadt. In a way, they did. In Monstadt, they gave you a chance to escape. Here, they didn't.

The ever so busy streets of Liyue were crowded once again, but now for a different reason. Zhongli happened to be amongst the crowed, when the Tianquan herself announced the situation before them.

"We have the traitor here, the one who dares impersonate the Divine Creator"

With that alone, Zhongli came out of hiding and announced himself once again as the Archon of Geo. How else was he, the creators most devoted acolyte, suppose to bring this traitor to justice?

His spear, the Vortex Vanquisher, the weapon you spent months saving up for, was pointed directly at your head. You've survived this long, all to die at the hands of the character you've cared for the most. Morax granted you the luxury of saying your final words. He expected you to cry out for mercy, but was met with something that left him frozen.

At this point there were no more tears for you left to cry. Tired and exhausted, you look up at him. Moving carefully, you lift your hands towards the weapon inches to your face. Even with such a weak grip, the spear cuts into your hand.

"I would rather die at your hands than that of a stranger"

Morax backs away from you, his polearm falling to his side. It was easy to mistake the gold color on the tip of his spear to be the shine of the sun illuminating the ore that made it. But Morax knew what the golden glint was.

Time may heal all wounds, but it doesn't erase the scars left behind. Zhongli has tried his best to redeem himself. He knows he is the least deserving to be at your every call. Even so, he feels that he's more fit to serve you than those fools from Sumeru.

He can't help but feel his heart drop whenever you dismiss him, when you tell him his services aren't needed. But what hurts him more is the visible fear in your eyes whenever he gets a bit to close.

No, he refuses to be the reason why you don't feel safe. He refuses to be the one you fear. He'll redeem himself, he swears. In one way or another, he'll show you that he deserves to be at your side.

zhongli bby pls come home

[pinkrangermemes]

EPIC: THE MUSICAL, THUNDER SAGA

i was going to wait til all of the sagas release to make another post, but here we are. feel free to change pronouns and such when needed.

"Don't you miss me?"

"_____, I've told you this before."

"You know I'm afraid of the water."

"I'll make sure that you are safe and sound."

"I would take the suffering from you."

"I can take the suffering from you."

"I will take the suffering from you."

"Oh no."

"Well, you asked and now you know."

"The things I do for you."

"Let's cut the charade."

"You are no wife of mine."

"You've been trying to take my life this whole time!"

"My real wife knows I'm not scared of the water."

"My real wife knows I don't have a daughter."

"We are a different beast now."

"No more of us deceased, 'cause we won't take more suffering from you."

"We are the man made monsters."

"We are the ones who conquer."

"You are a threat no longer."

"You pretended to be my wife, so I just played along."

"Sirens know about every route and horizon."

"Spare us. Oh, spare us, please."

"You wouldn't have spared me."

"I made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life."

"Let them drown."

"Kill them all."

"This is our only way home."

"You're quiet today."

"Not much to say."

"I've got a secret I can no longer keep."

"Deep down, you know that we are the same."

"I'm so sorry."

"There is no price we won't pay."

"Forgive me."

"We both know what it takes to survive."

"Deep down, we only care for ourselves."

"Deep down, we're lonely demons from Hell."

"Captain, something approaches."

"Drown in your sorrows and fear!"

"Choke on your blood and your tears!"

"Bleed 'til you've run out of years!"

"Give up your honor and faith!"

"Live up your life as a wraith!"

"Die in the blood where you bathe!"

"We must do what it takes to survive."

"We are the same you and I."

"Tell me you did not know that would happen."

"Use your wits to try and say I'm crazy and mad!"

"Say something!"

"Then you have forced my hand."

"No can do."

"Don't make me fight, you brother."

"You know you'd have done the same."

"If you want all the power, you must carry all the blame!"

"I am not letting you get in my way!"

"How are we supposed to trust you now?"

"Your time has come, your luck's run out."

"You relied on wit, and then we died on it."

"Please don't tell me you're about to do what I think you'll do."

"____, we're never gonna get to make it home. You know it's true."

"You don't know that's true!"

"I'm tired, my friend!"

"How much longer must I suffer, now?"

"How much longer can I push through Hell?"

How much longer must I go about my life like this when people die like this?"

"You've doomed us."

"You've doomed us all, _____!"

"Now that we've pissed them off, who do you think he'll send!"

"Pride is a damsel in distress."

"Someone's gotta die today, you have got the final say."

"Please don't make me do this."

"Let me take the suffering from you."

"I have to see her."

"But we'll die."

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM EPIC: THE MUSICAL - THE THUNDER SAGA

feel free to change/adjust sentences as needed !

SUFFERING

"don't you miss me?" "jump in the water and kiss me." "you know i'm afraid of the water." "i'll make sure that you are safe and sound." "i would take the suffering from you." "you know that i prefer my feet on the ground." "so, let's say i was on the run..." "oh noooo..." "how am i to get home?" "where am i supposed to go?" "well you asked, and now you know." "you know i'm too shy." "for you i would die." "can't you let me stay dry?" "we'll jump at the same time." "the things i do for you..."

DIFFERENT BEAST

"you've been trying to take my life this whole time!" "i know exactly what you are." "you didn't notice that your friends got snatched." "we are a different beast now." "we are the ones who feast now." "we won't take more suffering from you." "you are a threat no longer." "you pretended to be my wife, so i just played along." "spare us, please!" "nah, you wouldn't have spared me." "i made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life." "i can't take more risks." "throw their bodies back in the water." "kill them all!"

SCYLLA

"this is our only way home." "you're quiet today." "i've got a secret i can no longer keep." "you know that we are the same." "i'm so sorry." "we both know what it takes to survive." "we only care for ourselves." "we're lonely demons from hell." "something approaches." "drown in your sorrow and fears." "choke on your blood and your tears." "we must do what it takes to survive." "give up your honor and faith." "we are the same, you and i."

MUTINY

"tell me you did not know that would happen." "we didn't take a stand. we just ran." "say something!" "you have forced my hand." "lower your weapon." "don't make me fight you." "you know you'd have done the same." "if you want all the power, you must carry all the blame." "i am not letting you get in my way!" "how are we supposed to trust you now?" "your time has come, your luck's run out." "where are we?" "hunger is so heavy." "we're never gonna get to make it home, you know it's true." "i'm starving, my friend." "i'm tired, my friend." "how much longer must i go about my life like this?" "we can get home." "i'm just a man." "you've doomed us." "we're too late."

THUNDER BRINGER

"pride is a damsel in distress." "it's all the same when i apply all the pressure." "true nature will be revealed." "if i were to make you choose the lives of your men and crew or your own, why do i think they'd lose?" "you have passed your prime." "someone's gotta die today and you have got the final say." "please don't make me do this!" "i have to see her."

[skythighs]

Calista's Dream: Child in your Womb

Hello guys, sorry I haven't posted in a while. I've been busy. My schedule is less hectic this week, so I will be posting at least twice more. This is not edited. I read through it, but I could have missed something, so please excuse any mistakes. These pictures have been linked in previous chapters already

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ per usual, but this one just has some violence and mentions of pregnancy.

Chapter 8

It was late evening when a slave brought my missing letters to me on an ornate golden platter as promised. Feyd lounged on the bed totally nude while I replied to the many letters my father had sent and the one solitary letter my mother wrote. Although, calling it a letter was an overstatement. It was more of a message. A warning that I would be receiving a visit from the old woman I met many years ago when I was just a girl. No reasons were given as to why she was coming, simply that I should expect her. 

The days that followed my encounter with Baron Vladimir were surprisingly calm. Feyd and I had trained early this morning and I found myself feeling fatigued. I had bathed and changed with the help of Mia who reminded me that the Harkonnens' very own Suk doctor was expecting me today. Mia led me to the medical wing of the palace. It smelled...medicinal somehow and looked even more sterile than the rest of the cold bleak palace. 

“Na Baroness, welcome. Please sit on the exam table.”

The exam was quick and the outcome was not surprising. There was life inside me. A fluttering heart could be heard by the doctor's trained ear.

“A healthy heart is a good indicator the child will thrive. I have here a supplement you must take daily.”

“What is it for?”

“It’s filled with nutrients you may be missing in your new diet here on Giedi Prime.”

I nod and take the supplement along with a glass of water downing both.

“You may start to experience some pregnancy related illness. If so, send a message, you needn’t suffer through it.”

I make my way back towards my quarters with Mia there to guide me. She was doing a poor job at hiding her beaming smile after hearing the news alongside me. At least she was happy, I’m sure that feeling was rare for her. Once we returned to the bed chamber I felt relieved and terrified all at once. Now that I carried life I felt the slow tendrils of fear start to seep into my marrow. What would become of us?

“Now that you carry Na Barons child there will be many celebrations in your honor in these coming weeks. You will no longer be hidden away here in these rooms. You will be received into the public eye.”

I simply listen to her. She was knowledgeable and a true asset to me, maybe one day we would talk as friends as opposed to master and slave.

“There will be many feasts, and Na Baron will perform for you in the arena. You’ll be introduced to a group of ladies that you may call on and invite here to entertain.”

“All this now that I’m with child? What’s the significance?”

She kneels before me as I’m seated at the foot of the bed. She begins removing my slippers from my feet, massaging each foot slowly.

“You are truly one of us now. No restrictions. No one would dare speak ill of you or question you any longer.” 

She looked so happy for me. I guess I should be happy to be free of my isolation period but this didn’t feel real yet. 

The double doors open slowly and Feyd walks in taking in the scene before him. Mia on her knees before me. She looks at the ground now back to her usual submissive self. 

“Mia you may go.” I say softly.

Feyd watches her every move as she rises up bowing before me leaving the room quietly. Only once she has shut the doors behind her does Feyd turn to face me. There's a glint in his eyes as he inspects me. 

“You’ve heard the news I presume.”

He smiles a black smile at me before taking Mia’s place kneeling where she once did. 

“Since our betrothal was announced my uncle made it his personal goal to tell me how disappointing you’d be. How you would never be anything special to anyone, especially me.”

I look into his dark blue eyes not sure if I should respond or not.

“Do you know what he did in trying to convince me you were worthless?”

I shake my head, not sure where he was going with this.

“It made me wonder why he fears you. Now I know.”

“Fears me?” I echo incredulously. Standing from the bed walking away from him. 

“You are the Heir of Caladan, and now you carry Giedi Primes heir within you. You are untouchable now more than ever.”

His hands find me and he holds my face making our eyes meet. Penetrating me with his words, and his gaze. There behind the blue of his irises were the unspoken words he wanted me to hear. 

‘He is the insignificant one now.’

Somehow I heard it loud and clear. The roles have been reversed.

Today was the first day of celebratory events. I was dressed elegantly with a thin silk veil layered over my head and face. Feyd Rautha requested my presence thus here I am at an unfamiliar part of the palace. Mia waited outside the door and motioned for me to enter. Feyd stood in black loincloth with slaves surrounding him applying paint to his perfect physique. I look around the large round room and notice three women lounging and watching him closely. These must be his darlings.

“Husband.” One word hangs in the air drawing everyone's attention. More importantly it captures his attention. 

He smiles at me and beckons me forward.

“There you are, wife. I missed your sweet scent.”

He claims my lips once I’m at arms length. A passionate kiss. I find myself getting wet at the taste of him, but I pull away. 

“Won’t you finally introduce me to your darlings?”

I gesture to the lounging women that resemble large felines. They perk up hearing me mention them.

“My darlings, come greet your Na Baroness.” 

He turns my back to him, always preferring to observe my interactions from over my shoulder. The elegant pale women make their way to us, languidly. They stop before me looking me up and over again. Feyd begins to remove the veil from me slowly, as if teasing them with the idea of seeing my bare face. Tendrils of my hair are visible as he lifts the veil slower still. A quick pale hand reaches up and seizes up a lock of hair.

My frame tenses at the unexpected contact. The veil falls aside before it’s scoped up by a silent slave for safe keeping. The concubines can’t look away from my face, my hair, my umber eyes. They seem enthralled by my very being. They look at my belly in reverence, small touches here and there and everywhere makes me close my eyes softly. I don’t protest as I feel them take turns stroking my scalp gently. Noses pushing into my ebony hair occasionally.

“They love your scent as much as I do.” His sandpaper voice caresses my neck as he speaks. Opening my eyes and turning to face him I stroke his cheek.

“My Lord na- Baron your blades.” 

A portly man presents Feyd with two blades, one white the other black. Feyd walks towards him inspecting them. He grabs the white blade testing the sharpness of the tip on his own tongue. When the blade fails that test he slices the throat of a slave nearby. It slices her neck seamlessly, so he moves on and stabs another slave with the dull tip. He critiques the tip alone, commenting on the balance of the blade over all. 

My knees nearly buckle at the scene before me. Three pairs of hands hold my weight momentarily. He killed them so calmly. There was zero hesitation and just to test the blade, surely there was a better way. He grabbed the black blade testing it with his own flesh yet again, but this time the tip was indeed sharp. He nodded his approval before returning his attention to me. 

“This blade is worthy of your blood. Will you do me the honor?”

I nod hesitantly as he approaches me. He squats before me lifting the hem of my gown slowly exposing my creamy thighs. He takes the blade and slowly runs it along my inner thigh leaving a shallow cut. He removes it and uses his tongue to gather the small trickle of blood. He slurps obscenely, taking his time to make sure he didn’t miss out on a single drop. 

I look towards the concubines and see them lounging once again watching us with keen interest and smiles. They were not the hissing harpies I imagined whenever Vladimir chose to throw them in my face. They genuinely seemed like loyal pets, serving their purpose. Simple creatures content with their role as concubines, not jealous of ‘the wife’ or covetting my position. Perhaps that was a change done when they were modified just for him. Life must be much more simple if you could simply pick and choose which traits your women possessed. Especially women who could be blood thirsty and literally ate human flesh. However genetic modification was a touchy subject across the Imperium. 

The black sun and the gory arena scene nauseated me and I was barely containing my vomit as I was seated next to the Baron. He didn’t speak a single word to me and I was content being silent. Mia must have noticed my discomfort because she brought me a sweet cool drink to soothe me. Across the arena I noted a group of women with headdresses on. Bene Gesserit women, they looked as out of place here as I did. Perhaps the Reverend Mother was among them, watching me. A chill down my spine and a cold sweat broke out at the thought. She was indeed watching me from across the arena. 

“Na Baroness, perhaps you should retire and take a break from the sun. You don’t look well.” Whispered Mia.

I nod my head suddenly feeling very unwell. Mia helps me from my seat and leads me away. 

“The doctor said this could happen, in these early days. He has medication that can help.” Mia reassured me gently. 

The Suk doctor visited my chamber quickly with the requested medication and just to be sure he checked me over thoroughly. The child was doing well and it was all as expected. 

“This tonic will kick in quickly, I have been made aware you are to rejoin the festivities immediately after you recover.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I would be missed so soon.”

“He walked into the arena to begin only to realize you weren’t present in your seat. He demanded it be put on hold.”

Embarrassment stung my cheeks. Oh no, I hope I did not offend him.

“Perhaps we should start heading that way now. I don’t want to cause more of a delay. As you said, the tincture is fast acting.” 

Once reseated and given another refreshment by the attentive Mia, the large arena doors open and my husband begins walking towards the center. As he reaches the center of the arena he kneels acknowledging the Baron. The seconds tick by as he stands and gestures for me to move closer. I stand and walk to the balcony offering him a better view of me even from the great distance between us.

He pulls the black blade out, the blade christened in my blood. He kisses the blade slowly with his pillowy lips before he holds it up to me. I smile at him lifting my veil to show him my face unobstructed. The crowd around us cheers with a deafening boom. Fireworks begin to go off and sadly they are black and colorless much like everything else here.

The crowd chants his name as he only has eyes for me. Like a cobra being charmed with a pungi I can’t look away from him. He was mesmerizing, he was god-like to his people and they adored him so. He finally resheathed the blade and turned towards the doors ready to begin his performance. I took my seat ignoring everything around me, my focus was entirely on Feyd Rautha. I wanted to see him in action against an actual opponent for the first time. 

Slaves large and small limped out towards the Na Baron and he stood still accessing his adversaries. Men were located around the arena wearing black garments from head to toe. They looked like something that would terrorize a child's worst nightmares. They moved in sync with Feyd watching his every step and the slaves around him. 

The battle begins with a charge of the largest slave towards Feyd Rautha. A sloppy attempt at rushing him and catching him off guard. Feyd immediately strikes a killing blow, slicing the man's head clean off with little to no effort. The next attack came from two at once and he dispelled them quickly. I noticed a large slave was merely watching Feyd assessing his moves but not attacking. He didn’t seem to limp when he walked; he looked to be in good health. Was this a part of the show perhaps? I notice Vladimir looking at Piter, understanding passed over Piters’ eyes then. 

“That slave has not been drugged Baron.” Piter spoke robotically. 

I looked back to the arena and watched Feyd closely. Surely he could handle a slave drugged or not.

“Do not ruin my nephew's day, Piter.”

Returning his eyes to Feyd Rautha as well, the Baron sat up straight.

“Congratulations my dear nephew.”

Taglist: @mamawiggers1980 @drunkennunicornn @aoi-targaryen @lovereadingfanfic @avidreader73

@nemodeus @landlockedmermaid77 @wo-ming-bai

[happyhauntt]

keep my hand in yours — nikolai lantsov

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: nikolai sees anya all dressed up for the first time since they were children. he doesn't handle it well.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: fluff fluff fluff, references to other oneshots in this series but can be read as standalone, fluff, pre-established relationship, i've made anyalai suffer enough and i needed to throw them a bone with a fluffy adorable oneshot so here we are. title from 'everywhere everything' by noah kahan (aka anyalai anthem tbh)

─── word count: 2.4k.

     As a child, they teach you that staring at the sun for too long will make you go blind. Nikolai always was a reckless child, and Anya has certainly been the centre of his universe for so long now, he can hardly remember a time when she wasn't.

     Nikolai knows he is in love with Anya Kamenev. He knows it like he knows blood is red, like he knows the feeling of a rifle in his hands and the salty sea wind on his face. He knows it like he knows his heart must still be beating, because if it had stopped, he would be dead.

     And yet now, as she emerges from the dressing room, he fears that everything he'd been so sure of is false. Blood is green and the sky is pink and his heart must have stopped beating entirely, at least for a moment, this moment. He wonders if this is heaven. He wonders if this is a dream, if he died on the battlefield. He wonders how he ever got this lucky.

     "You're staring, Nik." Anya's voice is flat, eerily calm, even as she smooths her hands down the front of her dress, nervously seeking nonexistent creases. Her shoulders are squared, chin held high as she meets his eyes. She's already wearing her confidence like armour. A soldier preparing for battle. This night will be spent fending off thinly-veiled barbs and passive-aggressive insults from Ravka's elite. Everyone who thinks she isn't good enough to be queen. Everyone who thinks this is a mistake.

     Anya's knee gives an indignant twinge. She already knows that the heels she picked out will be giving her grief this evening, but she'd insisted on them. She didn't want to be seen as weak. Anya has been smiling through the pain for years now, and an evening spent dancing and mingling in heels won't make her old injury any worse.

     She hopes.

     It takes him a moment to find his words. “How can I possibly look away?” He manages a raspy, strangled murmur as his eyes trail over her figure. Any further capacity for speech fails him completely. How can he possibly form a coherent thought when she looks like that? Watching him with narrowed eyes, and that defiant tilt of her chin, and the way the neckline of her dress is high and modest, allowing him the tiniest glimpse of her collarbone.

     His mouth goes dry. He feels like a parched man, condemned to wander the desert for eternity, only to stumble upon a lush green oasis. He is utterly ruined by her, and Saints, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

     Anya huffs, casting her eyes to the ceiling before she trudges over to the floor-length mirror, surveying her own reflection with a critical eye. She's always been pretty, that was never the issue: peaches-and-cream complexion, rosy cheeks and wavy blonde hair, she was lauded for her looks even as a little girl. That one will be a beauty, they’d whisper to her mother, who’d respond with a demure smile to mask the frightened glint in her eye.

     There are scars, now, littered over her skin. Little white slashes over her collarbone, her arms, almost silvery in the candlelight. The dress Genya chose for her is emerald green satin with the hem trailing on the floor. The Lantsov emerald rests on her ring finger, while diamonds glisten at her throat and a small kokoshnik tiara rests in her hair.

     She still feels pretty. That was never the problem. But her eyes are weathered now, older and wiser and yet, somehow, altogether more foolish for agreeing to this. She still looks like a soldier. She still feels like— well. She doesn't know anymore. Maybe that's the point.

     Nikolai wrests himself from his stupor and joins her at the mirror. He stands behind her, rests his hands on either side of her waist. He's taller than her, even with the heels on, and he leans down so his mouth hovers near her ear.

     "It turns out that I'm marrying a Saint after all." His breath is warm and so are his hands. She can feel the heat of them through her bodice.

     Anya clicks her tongue, feigning irritation. When her gaze meets his in the mirror, his lips tug into a playful grin.

     "You are an insufferable flirt," she says, but she leans back against him all the same, allowing herself to sink into his embrace for a few moments.

     Nikolai's grip on her waist tightens. He drops featherlight kisses behind her ear and down her neck. "And yet you agreed to marry this insufferable flirt."

     "This is only the engagement party," she reminds him. "There's still time to change my mind."

     "And would you?"

     He thinks of that a lot. The idea of losing her sends a bolt of fear through him. He'd sooner face a thousand bloodthirsty pirates with nothing but his bare hands. He'd meet the Darkling in the Fold and spend the rest of his days living as that winged monster again, and it would scare him less than losing her.

     It took a long time for her to agree to marry him. He's been proposing, in some form or another, since they were seventeen years old. When she kissed him for the first time in a medik's tent, when he left for his apprenticeship and promised he'd come back for her, when they'd lain together in his cabin aboard the Volkvolny for the hundredth time and he'd known there would never be peace in his soul if she wasn't his.

     But she hadn't been his. Not really.

     He would risk it all for the country that abandoned her, and for a long time, that had been a crack between the two of them that could not be repaired. Like the Shadow Fold splitting his ravaged country in two, they had been at odds, stuck on separate sides of a great divide. He would always be a prince. He would always love Ravka.

     She would always love him, but Ravka had lost her loyalty when she rotted in that cell.

     Things are different now. He is the King, the Fold is gone, and there is hope, finally, for some real change in their country. Anya might have been betrayed by Ravka, but she loved him. She loved him. And under Nikolai's rule, things would change. Things would heal.

     Anya could heal, too.

     When she finally agreed to marry him, he'd wept. He’d held his breath for days and waited for the penny to drop, for another inexplicable thing to keep them apart. One of them was always leaving. And to rule over a country she'd once despised, where the nobility hated her...

     He wouldn't blame her for running. He just wishes he'd be able to run with her.

     His gaze is wide open, searching. Her own features soften as she looks at him, and she shakes her head slowly.

     "No," she says. "I wouldn't."

     He tilts her chin up and kisses her like he’s drowning, like she is the first breath of air he's ever had. His grip on her waist tightens as she sways a little, and a golden warmth slips through her strong enough to make her knees feel weak.

     When she pulls herself away from him, he tries to follow her. A frustrated groan sounds low in his throat.

     "Careful," Anya says with a teasing smile. "If you ruin my hair, Genya really might kill you."

     She turns back to the mirror, inspecting her appearance once more before reaching up to straighten her kokoshnik. Nikolai holds her tightly from behind, both arms tangled around her middle, chest flush against her back. His chin rests lightly on her shoulder.

     A tremor ripples through her and he knows, without knowing, that her knee is bothering her. He shifts himself to take more of her weight, just for a moment, and her grateful sigh is like a balm on every wound he’s ever had.

     His moss-and-honey eyes lock with hers in the mirror once again. An adoring smile tugs at his mouth. "You wouldn't protect me?"

     Anya laughs. "I sat for hours as she tortured me until I looked perfect. I'd help her."

     "My vicious girl." He says it like a prayer. A moment of silence passes before a crease forms between his brows. "Do you remember that last birthday of yours, before we enlisted?"

     Anya hums distractedly, fiddling with her sleeves. "My sixteenth, yes. My parents threw a massive ball and invited— well, more people than I've ever met in my life. They were hoping to secure a match for me, I think. Or at least start sniffing out potential suitors. Why?"

     "I think I fell in love with you that night."

     Anya raises an eyebrow at him. "No, you didn't."

     Nikolai presses a kiss to her shoulder, just above one of those tiny silver scars. They'd barely known each other, then; childhood acquaintances turned into almost-strangers. Her parents had kept her sequestered to their estate as she grew older, to hide that she was Grisha. By her sixteenth birthday, he'd seen her perhaps three times in as many years, and whatever friendship they'd been able to muster up as youngsters had died.

     But he remembers that night. Almost like it was yesterday, the memory of it dances through his mind with startling clarity. "You entered the ballroom, and you must have been nervous but you couldn't tell. You held yourself with all the grace and dignity of a queen, even then."

     "A decade of governesses bullying manners into me might've had something to do with that," Anya grumbles.

     "Hush," Nikolai says with a huff of laughter. "I don't think I'd ever seen anyone so beautiful. All that time growing up at court, all those noble ladies in their pretty dresses and furs, but I'd never felt this way before. It was like watching a sunrise for the first time."

     Anya sniffs. "Nikolai." Her voice is a stern, if slightly wobbly, warning. "If you make me cry before we even make it out of this room, I will make sure Tamar tells her most embarrassing story about you as a toast."

     "And it would be completely worth it, Nastya." His smile grows ever wider. "And then I had to watch you have the first dance with Vasily. I'd never been so jealous in my life."

     His older brother might have been a swine, but Nikolai cannot help the odd fondness he has for Vasily's memory. Had he lived, Nikolai isn't sure whether that affection would still exist, but there is little point in despising a ghost. There's not much more damage they can do.

     Even so, the memory of his lecherous hand lingering a little too low on Anya's hip makes him feel like a viper has curled up in his belly.

     Anya gives up on fiddling with her appearance and sighs, leaning her head back to rest against Nikolai's chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat is a comfort. "My parents insisted. He was the Crown Prince, I could hardly refuse!" Anya shudders a little as she recalls his touch, the way he'd leaned in close and whispered compliments in her ear that had left her feeling slimy.

     "It was torture. Pure torture." With a gentle push, he spins her in his arms until they're nose-to-nose. Anya's hands curl around his neck. Her fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. "I didn't know, then, what it meant. I was so alarmed by those feelings. I didn't understand what you would mean to me. But I fell in love with you that night. I'm sure of it now. One look at you and I was doomed forever."

     "Oh, how charming!" Even as she teases him, Anya's heart does somersaults in her chest. "You did dance with me that night, you know. You stepped on the hem of my dress."

     "I was so worried you could hear my heartbeat."

     "You couldn't tell. You were your usual charming self, all suave and unbearable, flirting with all the girls." Anya smiles, all soft at the edges.

     "What can I say? I was a foolish boy," he says.

     Anya laughs. "Was?"

     Nikolai growls low in his throat and picks her up by the waist, spinning her in a slow circle. "Alright, alright," he murmurs. "But I like to think I learned my lesson in the end."

     She runs her finger along his jawline and says softly, "And I learned mine."

     They might have stayed there forever, bodies pressed tight together, his gaze so intent and earnest that the world around Anya falls away. The warmth of him swallows her whole, and she thinks she wouldn't mind a forever just like this. Just the two of them, and a quiet room, and his heartbeat thudding beneath her palm.

     An insistent knock on the door drags them back to reality, followed by Zoya's sharp-tongued demand that they hurry up, or they're going to be late.

     Nikolai doesn't look away from Anya as he settles her gently back on the ground. His hands still linger at her waist. A slow, lazy smile pulls at his lips. "I suppose it's rude to be late to your own engagement party. Should I be concerned that your speech will flatter me terribly? Is it filled with praise and adoration about my dashing good looks and genius?"

     Anya almost snorts, pulling herself out of his grip. "I'd say it's filled with my exasperation at your recklessness, your daring, your inability to keep your hands to yourself—"

     "—and my dashing good looks." He reaches for her again but she dodges his outstretched hand. "Can't a man kiss his future wife?"

     "That man won't make it to his wedding day if he keeps testing Zoya's patience." She shoots him a warning glance, though the effectiveness of it is ruined by the brightness of her smile. Once, not so long ago, he feared he'd never seen her shine like this again. "I promise to include your handsomeness in my vows if you get a move on."

     With a chuckle, he joins her at the door, their fingers threading together. She kisses the corner of his mouth as a reward, and then the pair of them stumble out of their room and into the rest of their lives.

[trashfangirlsworld]

I've been ia for a while because of how lowkey hostile this community has become lately, and I will probably continue to be so until there's a proper resolution, whatever it may be. However, I've seen some stuff that has been said by some of the ex qsmp admins in the midst of them recounting their experiences that I cannot help but be greatly bothered by, and, as a non english speaker, is important for me to say.

The way that they have been bashing quackity for making statements in spanish, his native language, and for streaming in the time zone he lives in, is not okay. I've said in another post about how disgusting I think these kind of comments are, and being an affected party in the admin situation does not make you an exception in my opinion.

The admins have every right to talk about what they went through, their feelings are valid and they absolutely deserve compensation for their work, because they were treated horribly, there's no doubt about that, but they are not immune to criticism, especially if it's about casual xenophobia. This does not stop at lèa's interview, as lumi also didn't have a spanish translation for her document, something that prior to the interview, I didn't think about too much, but now, I can't stop thinking about. Mind you, when it comes to xenophobia, there is absolutely no denying what the french and brazillian communties went through, but you do not fight xenophobia with xenophobia.

I completely understand that it's not easy to be the one to speak about any type of abuse they suffered, I said before that because of how shitty this situation is, that all sides would make mistakes and choices that people would not like, and for me this is one of them. As stressful as it must be for them, the ex admins have a lot of eyes on them right now, and saying these kind of things have consequences; I have seen way too much xenophobia towards the hispanic community and it's actively horrible to see because, unlike other times, the other communities are seemingly ignoring it. A twitter post saying that you do not condone harrasment does not erase what you publicly said previously.

I'm gonna be honest there's more that I did not like about that interview, the way that lèa talked about the admins that are still on the team, her response to the fact that she leaks stuff... I just... didn't like it, but I wanted to talk about the whole "quackity spoke spanish" thing because it's something that I feel really strongly about. It is NOT easy to make any statements in a language that you do not natevely speak, let alone very important ones, no matter how good you are at it, to write all of this it took me two hours and I probably still made mistakes or misspoke somewhere.

I do not how to end this post, I'm just frustrated that this fandom now goes at each other throats at littlest things without question or critical thinking and that xenophobia is now so normalized. I just... expected better I guess

[iveriee]

Hello 👋. I have never done a request before but I really love your Yandere! Tom riddle one so much. Can I request a Yandere!Draco with childhood bestfriend trope,please? It would be so nice if Draco and reader have big height difference. English is also not my first language so forgive me for any mistakes. Thank you ❤.

★;ANSWER: Of course! I apologise if this fic is disappointing, I tend to criticize myself quite alot more while writing for other characters.

★;CATEGORY: A yandere x Reader.

★;PAIRING: Yan!Draco Malfoy x Gn!Reader

★;SUMMARY: In which.. you reunite with him after being victorious in evading him for years.

★;PS: This fic contains mentions of obsessive behaviour, stalking,perversion, and delusional thoughts. In no way do i encourage such crimes in reality, This is only for entertainment purposes. The quality of this fic may be a bit more low than usual as i have been dealing with quite alot of personal issues. Never i have ever written for Draco before and so i must warn you that this may be a bit OOC.

Reunions. A word engraved with joy—visualized with the imagery of heartening, friendly affection by both the Wizarding World and Muggles.. However, in your vision, it was, perhaps, the utmost vicious thing you could've heard. In an instants notice, the past years you had spent at Hogwarts seemed like a distant haven—plunged by the gratifying tsunami that was Draco Malfoy and smothered by the sizzling volcano that was Time.

To evade and ignore him ever since that day was, perhaps, indeed the most orderly choice you had made. No longer were you two mere innocent friends and to get him to comprehend that you did not reciprocate his tendencies was an utter lost cause—And so you cast your gaze away, paid no heed to his words and formed healthy friendships. Yet the perversion of his gaze stained you like a persisting poltergeist.

And so here we were. The beginning was a mere, regular day of ignoring Draco at the Great Hall during Breakfast. It had transfigured into a sort of routine, done with persistence everyday. Even more so, he had perhaps quitted attempting to rekindle the friendship, the evidence of your cause being that he would no longer try and speak to you or gaze at you from the Slytherin Table, neither would he attempt to seem good in your vision. It was utterly foolish of him to even try doing so as you knew that he was an obnoxious, racist, spoiled,bullying assh—You had a revision test to study for, the thought reached your mind(as you were the one to force it on, though, of course, you would never admit so).

The conclusion that he had given up, was, of course, an illusion you had conjured up for reassurance and so was proved. In what way? The climax of Breakfast had birthed a cramped crowd of students, which was not so pleasant, now was it? Henceforth, you had resorted to sprinting out of the Great Hall earlier. If you had perhaps known what would happen, you'd oblige to suffering in that crowd. What occured is truly an obvious act that needs no introduction.

Times had transformed and Draco towered over you. It seemed quite foreign even so. Perhaps—you could just speak to him and conclude this delusion of a situation. "It would be very nice if you didn't interrupt my attempts to go to Class, Malfoy." You stated firmly, angling your gaze away.

"And It would have been very nice if you didn't ignore and reject me, [Last Name]" Draco answered. (or perhaps snickered, more accurately) His gaze plunged on you, fixating on...unspeakable places for quite a while...(as proved by his smile) Resulting in on you attempting very hard to defeat the urge to punch him. "Maybe if you said yes, we wouldn't have to be in this situation." He added hastily.

"I don't remember asking you for advice, Malfoy." You spat firmly in answer. "I've attempted quite alot to tell you that i do not fancy you. But of course...you're a fucking jerk after all, what did I expect? Don't think that I'm not aware of your stalking." You asserted, tilting closer to him (something you'd regret quite much).

His eyes broadened, emitting an almost evil smirk from you.

Oh, how that would reverse...

To your utter dismay, your domination over him had, of course, concluded in mere seconds, His hands proceeded to your shoulders, resulting in you flinching. "Drop the act [Name], i know you like me...." He stated, gazing at you. Perhaps this boy was utterly and completely delusional. And indeed, he was. He spoke once more, forming a frown on your lips. After all, now he'd be having what he longed for quite a while. "But i guess for now, We should have a proper reunion."

[anielly-2010]

Baldwin iv x mermaid reader

I've had this idea in my head for a while and ended up creating a kind of prologue to this story. Any spelling mistakes please forgive me, I used a translator to leave it in English as that is not my language.

Mermaids. Monsters who use their sweet voices to enchant and bewitch men. That's what people thought I was and that's why I was hunted all my life.

Because I was the last mermaid.

And ever since sailors discovered a way of not being affected by the sirens' singing about five years ago, the hunt for mermaids has turned into a veritable genocide.

Their sisters, in an act of desperation at seeing that many of their companions were being used as a mere pleasure to humans, having to use their precious voices to satisfy them, forced me to take a potion that would destroy my vocal cords. So that my most powerful song could no longer be used as a weapon by humans.

Today was my fifteenth birthday, but what did that matter when I was about to lose the life I had fought so hard for?

"We did it, we caught a mermaid!"

The sailors shouted and celebrated with joy as you struggled over the huge fishing net that had caught you.

"It's been five years since anyone managed to catch a mermaid"

"She must be the last of her kind"

"We're going to make a fortune from her!"

With every word the sailors said, your desperation grew. You didn't want to be captured, you didn't want to be killed to become exotic meat or a mere object for men. The only thing you wanted was freedom and the happiness of living a peaceful life, but now nothing could be done.

As soon as the boat reached the shore, you were forced to assume your human form, but your lavender hair and eyes that seemed to reflect a rainbow under the sun made it clear that you were a mermaid, causing countless disgusted looks to be directed at you.

The captain of the ship took you to the French king to sell you for an exorbitant price, but before he even arrived, it turned out that you were mute and couldn't use your songs to heal or captivate anyone. This led to you being sold for a price far below what he wanted.

"You worthless creature!"

The captain threw a glass bowl in your direction and, by reflex, you protected yourself as much as you could with your arms bound in chains.

"One of your few uses is to use your voice as pleasure for men and you can't even do that!"

Tears began to stream down your face. The reason was the humiliation she had suffered and the pain from the cuts on her arms. Luckily, it wasn't long before that horrible man sold you and left, but your troubles had only just begun.

You were locked in a cage and for weeks your routine was to make do with the little food and water you received. The king sometimes brought various people to admire you, but he soon lost interest in you.

Like a mermaid who couldn't sing, you were of little use to him, but then the king received some news.

The King of Jerusalem, Baldwin IV, had won a very important battle at Montgisard. He, a boy of only 16, led the outnumbered Christian forces against Saladin's troops and won the battle.

The King of France decided to give you as a present to this young man, so once again you were chained up in the hold of a ship, where for months your only consolation was to listen to the waves of the sea.

After the exhausting journey, you finally arrived in Jerusalem.

The drier air was hot and made you feel constantly dehydrated, and the language the people there spoke was different from what you knew.

A deep hatred took over your body, and then you met it.

"Are you all right?"

It was the first thing he asked you and even though he knew you wouldn't be able to answer, he hoped to discover your answer just by looking at you. And even when he received only a perplexed look from you, he treated you with tenderness, wrapping you in his own cloak and asking his trusted servants to look after you.

'Why does he treat me so tenderly?'

This question kept running through her mind.

And as time went by, feelings began to blossom in both of you. Small acts became actions of love and the love that existed between the two of us was so great that nothing could stop you from being together.

Not even Baldwin's leprosy, the greed of Guy de Lusignan and Reinaldo de Châtillon or Saladin's army could separate you.

'I'm going to get my voice back, cure Baldwin with the siren's song of healing and help him defeat every enemy that comes along'

That was his thought, that was his determination.