#Ellery Indulges

[tiredassmage]

I can’t NOT send in ❛ you’re a weapon, and weapons don’t weep. ❜ for agent feels perhaps 👀

FINALLY. I FINISH IT! Perhaps a day late for Star Wars day(s) celebrations, but you know how Alucren is about talking about his feelings. Once again, them having issues actually talking about anything didn't end up using this word for word, but the shape of it's there. And... frankly a lot of indulgent intimacy, hehe. :3

Shoutout to the namedrop of my friend's blorbo, Taizi. Let's get these agents the idea of therapy and some supportive poly relationships, amiright?

[hit 'em where it hurts // sentence starts]

Deckard sighs soft and warm as Alucren presses his lips against his throat, dragging fingertips through the short hair of his nape.

Here, Nine is at a special, intoxicating kind of ease - one hand formed against Ellery’s hip and the other cradling the back of his head, encouraging Alucren’s introduction of teeth and rewarding the move by tilting his head back into nails digging gently into skin. By now, he knows Nine’s smiling without looking for it.

He smooths his hand along Nine’s spine, fingertips following the curve of skin down towards subtle implants. Nine sighs into the gentle pressure, content enough, it seems, to remain placated by Eleven’s lips over his pulse.

Ellery frowns as his fingers splay carefully over the implants, tracing the faint hints of scars he knows remains, no matter how masterful the work of droids in removing them. The texture’s rougher than the tanned skin around it, than the brush of Nine’s hand against his over his waist where he’s anchored his fellow Cipher back against his chest.

Dark emerald eyes fall away from the steady rise and fall of Nine’s chest to the murky, soft shadows cast in the cloak of Odessen’s night across the room. In this, he’s come to see that the skeletal fingers of Imperial Intelligence still whisper around their throats - the common tattered, lace thread tying them together that Deckard tugs on between the half-familiar dance of briefings and deployments, in the half-held breath of hallways and half-clouded eyes meeting silently over a desk.

He was an idealistic bastard at the best of times, their Nine… Always so concerned with not letting another choke on the decaying dust and rot that he prefers to line his own throat with it than remain idle.

Alucren swallows and tucks his chin into the crook of Tyr’s neck, tracing the outlines of those implants. It’s not the first time he’s seen them. Nine has bared plenty more than flesh to him, dragging him this far out into unknown and - to them - unmapped regions of the galaxy.

Sometimes, what Nine never wrapped words around said more than that which he did. Alucren wonders almost idly if it’s one of the reasons he was a better agent. Even a latecomer transfer as the war had reignited like himself had heard some of the whispers, the stories… Even a stubborn bastard like him had at least once seen the few extra lines across Keeper’s fair features.

And yet all the younger man had for him tonight was patience. Surely, some days it was shorter than others, but…

“Deckard…”

Tyr hums softly in acknowledgement. Alucren closes his eyes as Nine tilts his head slightly, just enough to brush his chin against his temple.

“What was it like?”

The draw of Tyr’s fingers against his knuckles slows to a stop. “Mm. ‘Fraid you’re gonna have to specify a bit more, darling.”

Alucren’s hand stills against his back as he turns to brush his lips briefly along Nine’s jaw. A moment later, he’s passing under Nine’s steady, watchful eyes. The urge to flinch nearly rushes up his spine.

Nine’s good at that - seeing all of him. Tracing fully down from the furrow of his brow, the aging lines Taizi tells him to stop fussing about, and not missing a single note in the depths of his eyes. It’s been damned infuriating at times. Alucren has yet to figure out how to swallow being so utterly disarmed.

Tyr’s eyes fall after only a few moments. It could’ve been hours, for all he takes from it. “You know I live with it,” he says quietly.

“Part of the job description,” Ellery supplies.

“Sure,” he says.

“Sure.”

Alucren’s chin settles against his shoulder again. Tyr pulls the hand from his hip away, draws it in front of him so he can watch as he traces over their fingers.

Living. It isn’t so simple as that. Taizi had told him… on Marr’s fleet to abandon his side, to go, flee, to live. Too much smoke had been in his lungs to discern the sting in his throat from the mauling of his chest.

In five long, lonely years that were as restless as the tempests over Dromund Kaas, Alucren Ellery had learned he’d never quite learned what living really was.

“Hell of a thing to live with…”

Tyr nods slowly as a frown begins to pull quietly across his lips. He turns Alucren’s hand over carefully in his and traces fingertips carefully along his palm, then up along each finger in slow succession. Alucren’s gaze falls to watch.

“They don’t talk about that much in Academy.”

“Did they send you?” Tyr asks.

Alucren’s head shakes faintly against his shoulder. “Not really. No time for it, with the war and all. Just some… accelerated program.” He weaves his fingers with Deckard’s and squeezes carefully. Nine lets him. “Suppose you gave them a run for their credits.”

A faint whisper of a sharper exhale clears Nine’s lungs. One corner of his lips barely flickers up for a fraction of a second - so slim Alucren’s half-content to believe it the blink of his own eyes at the edge of his vision.

“I think you’re skilled enough at that yourself, Eleven.”

He doesn’t imagine much, if anything, in that training explored the intricacies of the political fallout when an agent has to stand against the very head of their sphere, the very entity supposedly in control of their orders. There’s plenty in the handbooks for Minders about internal security. There’s regulations for these things between agents. From the most wet-eared recruits to the Minister of Intelligence, they all shared a duty to report security risks.

There was a time, Ellery imagines… There was a time he might’ve held a blaster to this man’s temple.

There was a time he might have - would have, likely - pulled the trigger himself on their infamous Cipher Nine.

He closes his eyes and tightens his arm around Nine. One hand against skin and metal and their linked ones over that heart of his.

Tyr’s chin nestles against the top of his head. He can feel the unspoken inquiry in the draw of Nine’s thumb once more against his knuckles.

Nine could talk a lot about Imperial Intelligence. Eleven usually balks on the matter.

He’s not sure he could’ve done what Nine did. He’s fairly certain he can’t do what Nine does now.

“How?” It’s hot and muffled against Deckard’s skin. It’s easier to hide than find the words for the hollowness in his chest, for the shape of the tremble in his arms, racing through his blood. “How did you..?”

Tyr inhales slow and carefully and releases the breath as a weary exhale. Their hands tighten around one another again. He’s not looking, but he’s sure his knuckles must be paling, constricting around Nine’s calloused, warm hands.

“Ellery…” Softer.

He turns away, not yet willing to cede the stinging in his eyes even if dodging it won’t obscure it.

“All I had were orders, Nine. A weapon, preferably in both hands.” His next breath shudders through him. “And no use for tears for what's given in the line of duty.”

“So they tell us, hm?” Tyr murmurs.

Quiet falls between them again for a few moments before Tyr presses his thumb a bit further into his skin. “Think I can have my hand back, love?”

Alucren inhales sharply, eyes turning from hiding behind his shoulder back to him only to find a soft, gently amused smile draping easily across his lips. Alucren’s knuckles are indeed pale around Tyr’s hand still in his grasp. He clears his throat and flexes out his hand.

Only for Tyr to reach out and take his chin before he can turn away again, pressing his lips carefully to Eleven’s temple.

“You’re here now, Ellery,” he says. “It’s alright. I promise.”

Alucren ducks under the arm he opens, pressing into the crook of Nine’s neck as he turns to face him. Now it’s Nine’s fingers at the nape of his neck, gently drawing lines up and down through short hair.

Living was very different from surviving, he’s learning. And even Ciphers have plenty of uses for tears.

[the-blog-of-self-indulgence]

So.

We all know Aziraphale love food, and he’s very plump and soft and he’s had that vessel for 6000 years he could change that chub whenever he wanted. BUT we know today women are held to really stupid and terrible beauty standards, and there are diets and exercise that is down right dangerous.

So I can definitely see Aziraphale giving out some small miracles to them. Even things that don’t take miracles like a quick stop to say

“Wow I just wanted to say your hair is just darling!”

“Hi but I wanted to mention how pretty you are.”

Etc. Things just to make people believe in themselves. It’s ok to be soft, it’s ok to be chubby, that’s not what important!

[musewrangler]

Hi There!!!!

I’m just curious—in your works, who would you cast as Kelly, Ellery, and Baldwin?

P.S. I can’t wait for you to update The War In the Shadows—I left a comment under my Ao3 account, I’m mezo_Phane!

Can’t wait for Firmus to meet Sola!!!

Well aren't you great for asking? :D I love thinking about this.

Ok, we'll start with Baldwin, my beloved. We will ignore the fact that Andor stole this actor, but I would cast Stellan Skarsgard. Add a beard and he has all the tough dad energy I picture for Baldwin.

Ellery is hard and I had to search before I found the guy with the right appearance and vibes. So I would cast Adam Copeland. He's a big guy like Ellery, but he doesn't come across as just brawn no brain.

Dear Kelly. I think the energy I want for him best comes from Andrew Garfield. I've pictured Kelly with dark hair as well so I like the idea of Garfield playing him.

And I'm so chuffed you're enjoying my WWII indulgence! thank you for the kind words!! Just updated as well. :D

And I'm also pleased you like the Sola/Firmus pairing. It's become a favorite of mine too.

Thanks so much for this ask!

[therealyaspen]

Ahaha what if I made OCs for an angsty shitpost blog... haha jk.... unless...?

@hyrule-kingdom-updates gave me brainrot so take this child and his gay adopted moms and possibly a canon-diverging self-indulgent snippet later but shh you didn't hear that from me

Picrews are linked in the character names, I wanted to get these characters up quickly so I made picrews instead of drawing them :)

Andeas "Andy" - The babey boy himself!! He's like twelve and has been a big fan of Siv's for a while. He has to go under the radar about it, though, since his parents don't approve. Something about crude drawings and foul language? Andy pulled a Zavis and stole a bit of paper from the community board thing so he could keep up, and hid it in his treehouse. He acquired a love of rats and has some rat friends, too! His best friend is a rat named Lady Ratilda. He recently ran away from his Mabe Village home because he got worried about Siv and figured that something was up with the Malice. When he said his emotional goodbyes to his rat friends, Lady Ratilda wouldn't leave his shoulder so he just took her with him. Andy has no idea that he's going in completely the wrong direction and earnestly hopes to help Siv out. OH also he has a little fake Quill of Roost that he painted himself :)

Lady Ratilda for your soul

Ellery "Elle" "Ellie" - Ellie is a quiet but caring woman. She and her wife Sabra are traveling merchants who were on their way back to their secluded home in Faron when they met Andy. Elle nearly had a heart attack seeing this kid out on his own, especially after hearing the recent news. He was looking for Asivus Hartell?? Assivus Asunder?? The Wing Clipper?? What????? So she pulls Sabra aside and is like "UHM WHAT DO WE DO" and Sabra's like "dw babe I got a plan" (also I really want to make her related to Launo in some way bc he's my favorite rn and also ✨conflict✨ dsklav but at the same time I don't know if Quill has Plans so,,,,,)

Sabra - Sabra is a Gerudo, born to a Gerudo mother and a Sheikah father. She was raised in a mixture of both cultures. Her mother took heritage on both sides rather seriously and made sure to continue teaching her about Sheikah culture when her father was killed by the Yiga clan. Eventually, Sabra became a merchant--traveling was something her family did a lot, and she enjoyed it so why not?--and met Ellie on the road. She happens to be a fan of the updates, though she's started having second thoughts after recent events... also unfortunately she doesn't wear sunglasses in canon I just thought they looked cool 😔

So yeah!! Basically these three met while traveling and Sabra and Elle were like "hey what the fuck that's a child" and Andy was like "HEY HI HELLO I'M GONNA HELP MISTER SIV" and now the three of them are on their way to Faron because Sabra convinced Andy that Siv was actually trying to throw everyone off by telling them that he was at the Bottomless Swamp

[lickstynine]

🌱🏝for Siofra and Kit?

how the fuck did four answers turn into a novel? like, you picked exactly the write characters and questions to make me ramble (though I think now that that may have been on purpose)

🌱whether my OC was inspired by any other character or person

Kit - I designed him like six or seven years go, and he’s been changed a LOT since then, but his original iteration was based on the ‘playboy’ stereotype in a lot of Japanese dating games. I was playing several obsessively at the time, and the womanizer type always seemed to have red hair because it’s really rare and idolized in Japan. And I’ve just always been a slut for the witty snarky jackass. I can’t even explain why, I’m just attracted to assholes. Whoops.

Siofra - She has two main inspirations, Ygritte from Game of Thrones, and Ed Sheeran’s Galway Girl. I introduced her on her own, but I’d actually always intended for her to end up with Kit. I made her and planned out how they’d meet well ahead of Misadventures, cause I was just kind of bored of Ellery. Aside from the ideas those two sources gave me, I basically filled her out to be my dream girl (without actually being a perfect person cause FUCK a mary sue), and also to be a good match/foil to him.

🏝a time or event in my OC’s life (besides the one I’m writing about) that would be interesting to explore

Kit - I actually have his life planned out at least five years past what I’m currently writing (can’t say more without hella spoilers) so I explore that a lot in my personal musings (and with @ocsickficsideblog in some self-indulgent writings).

Siofra - Maybe like her teenage to young adult years? She’s one of my oldest (in age) mains, and possibly my only main I haven’t written younger at one point? (Off the top of my head, I know I’ve written at least one-offs of Young! Jace, Wren, Vody, Kit, Kazu, and Minato.) Though her family is more stable and nuclear than most of my OCs, her younger years weren’t necessarily easy. Her mother doted over her brothers and actively fought her tomboyish nature, then died unexpectedly when Siofra and Riagán were fifteen and Cillian was only two. Tradition in general is difficult for her because her family is pretty devoutly Catholic (I mean, they’re Irish, what did you expect, Buddhism?). She considers herself to be loosely faithful, but was understandably confused and conflicted when she realized she liked girls. It took several years before she came out to her family (besides Riagán, she tells him everything), but they were surprisingly okay with it. Her father didn’t entirely know how to deal with it, but he decided he’d rather learn to deal than lose another family member. And after that of course she had plenty of adventures, gay and otherwise, at uni. So, lotta untapped and unspecified material.

[whymusic]

Album Review - Jockstrap “ I love you Jennifer B”

I Love You Jennifer B is all about contradiction.It's no surprise the album came from graduates of London's prestigious Guildhall School of Music & Drama, Georgia Ellery and Taylor Skye both well-trained in rich and refined musicianship (Ellery studied jazz violin while Skye was part of the school's music production program). With an 18-piece orchestra behind them, Jockstrap ensures their debut album is one to be remembered as I Love You Jennifer B takes their college years and blows them to pieces, every string warped to oblivion and every synth contorted into impossible shapes with unexpected textures and sharp tonal shifts. Playing all sorts of different characters to give each of its ten tracks a world of their own, I Love You Jennifer B's distant musical elements come together for one magical listen.It genuinely took me a while to get an understanding of I Love You Jennifer B's sound than I expected, but that only proves how extraordinary Skye's is as a producer. The album's first half is much loftier and overfilling, with Neon's massive distorted guitars and the buttery string crescendos on Greatest Hits, but there's an angularity to it all, Jockstrap's classical grace betraying their deep knowledge of composition and songwriting that allows them to insert alien textures and acidic harmonies into what could easily be traditional pop songs pulled straight from the late 50s and early 60s.There's no denying how eccentric I Love You Jennifer B is, but it's incredibly beautiful at the same time: Ellery's angelic falsetto in the chorus of Greatest Hits easily makes it one of the best vocal performances this year, and Concrete Over Water's complex yet wondrous composition is unlike anything else this year in the avant-pop space - just because Jockstrap like to indulge in the grotesque doesn't mean they can't appreciate the things that come with a more refined sound. The two of them know exactly what they're doing, and you can hear through the confidence of Concrete Over Water's decidedly abrupt stop halfway through and Neon's piercing noise guitars how assured Jockstrap are in their success every step of the way. It's a joy to listen to, not only because you can hear how much fun they had tweaking the little details of every song, but because I Love You Jennifer B is entirely unlike any pop album this year, shocking in its willingness to give anything a shot and even more stunning in its ability to make it all sound this good. I have no clue what's going on in Jockstrap's head more than a few times throughout, but no part of I Love You Jennifer B feels aimless: Let Ellery and Skye suck you fully into their insanity, and there's nothing else your heart will fawn over so passionately.

[wordsmusicandstories]

War

“War is to be ranked among the most dreadful calamities which fall on a guilty world; and, what deserves consideration, it tends to multiply and perpetuate itself without end. It feeds and grows on the blood which it sheds. The passions, from which it springs, gain strength and fury from indulgence.” William Ellery Channing (born on 7 April 1780 ) He was a theologian considered the foremost…

[rufusdawes]

Water Colours

If you're old enough to remember the music video to A-Ha's 'Take on Me', you'll remember the girl jumping into the pages of a comic and being literally drawn into that world. Stepping out to start the Ormiston Pound walk, an hour and a half west of Alice Springs a friend, Alix, remarked that it was like walking into an Albert Namatjira painting. As she explained, the colours on a Namatjira artwork appear abstract until you're immersed in the landscape he called home and appreciate he was far more of a realist than the casual observer may appreciate. As we started our walk, the colours here embrace you and you find yourself humming the A-Ha earworm.

Despite living in Alice Springs for over seven years, it was Alix's visit back to her old home from Tasmania that had me treading the Pound walk for the first time. I've been fortunate enough through work to have experienced some glorious sights throughout central Australia, many on distant Aboriginal land and far from the glances of a tourist. However, in doing this short day walk of nine kilometres, there is more than enough variety and splendour to be had to satisfy even the greediest of landscape gluttons. The slow, sidewinding trek to start that weaves you ever upward saw us tramping through wildflower country, purples and whites abound following earlier winter rains. Some forty minutes in, a short detour takes you atop a rise and has you looking down over the extent of the Pound, a ring of mountains nestled in the heart of the West MacDonnell National Park. From here, under an azure sky are every conceivable version of orange in the rocks, bathed as they are in the full sun or shivering in the shadows. A matting of grasses across the Pound floor delivering shades of hayish yellow and more green than the US Treasury.

After a short break to indulge in the staple delights of a day walk lunch, that of copious amounts of fine cheese and crackers, it was time to descend. Shortly after, the landscape changes again since the relatively recent rains had topped up a waterhole on an otherwise dry stream bed. The white sands and crystal clear water a far cry from the perception of an otherwise arid landscape. Continuing on, more wildflowers as we skipped from rock to rock that make up the trail, maintained as it over natural contours with no additional materials brought in.

Having crossed the western extent of the basin you end up entering the gorge that will see us finish the last couple of k's walking back towards the day picnic area and the plethora of tourists that will only experience the boardwalk amble down to it's more accessible waterhole, as I too had only experienced until this point. White trunked ghost gums stand tall with their crown of eucalyptus leaves shimmering blues and greens. We scramble across the larger boulders that make up this part of the adventure, to our right the vertical wall of the northern side of the gorge, each rock cold to the touch hidden from the warmth of the sun. On the opposite side, a cornucopia of colour as sunlight reaches the floor. As the gorge sides draw in, the shadows multiply and there's a faint chill in the air. Despite today being a perfect winter's day with the temperature maxing out somewhere in the mid-twenties, the base underfoot does not get the benefit of direct sunlight. Which is a real shame, as it is here that we need to make a water crossing.

Ormiston Gorge is one of the must-dos for any visitor to Alice Springs. A couple of hours cruising along Namatjira Drive takes you to Ellery Creek, Ormiston, Glen Helen, Two Mile and Redbank. Each will have water to some degree and will vary from stagnant to flowing depending on the time of year. Many can be swum in and Ellery, site of the most permanent and accessible water, is known as Alice Springs' beach. I've swum in all, bar Redbank, and they are all colder than you might expect. During the summer months that is a blessing, providing a respite from scorching 40 degree plus days. During winter, not so much. Following a week long bush trip burning Country with traditional owners and Rangers in the Southern Tanami where nary a shower or running water was seen, I once dived into Ellery Creek on the drive home desperate as I was to wash a week of grime away. The temperature of the water causing such a sharp intake of breath, as well as the involuntary shrinkage of one's nethers to the size of a couple of walnuts, that I did well to stay put long enough to make it look like I knew exactly what I was in for. As a tourist sunning himself on the banks remarked that the water was a bit fresh, I had to force my grimace into a smile that suggested yes it is but was also exactly what I wanted and expected. Which it absolutely was not.

For us, the crossing on the Pound Walk was all of twenty feet wide. Yes it's winter. Yes it's been in shade all day, all week and all month but it's not that deep and how cold can it really be? We took our shoes off and stepped first into ankle deep water. At that point I realised it was possible to get cramp in your toes. From here, the depth quickly increases ending up around thigh high. The creek bed is uneven and slippery and so the only way to get through whilst wearing full walking gear and carrying a backpack full of cheese is slowly. Alix was only two weeks out of a moon boot following a broken ankle after a climbing mishap so needed to progress carefully. I had my phone in my pocket and was in no mind to risk a slip either. This meant it took us the best part of a couple of minutes to get to the other side during which time our legs went from tingly to achy to numb. As we exited, Alix's feet and ankles had turned pinker than a flamboyance of flamingoes at a shrimp barbie.

I was cold in that Ellery dip. I've been colder still during an ill-advised plunge into the Southern Ocean off the coast of Stewart Island, about as far south as one can swim without getting in at Antarctica. I may just have been coldest crossing a sodding creek bed in the desert Outback of Australia of all places. Once the meat in our lower halves had returned to out of the fridge and not out of the freezer temperature we were able to continue the last few hundred metres back to the start. The final thawing took place at the little kiosk by the carpark supping down on a flat white. Blood flow returned our skin through shades of pink, red and white, eventually returning it to our respective natural skin-tones. Even Albert Namatjira would have struggled to create a colour palette to accommodate our inclusion in to one of his works just after the creek crossing. All the extra hues radiating off of our legs might just have a looked a little too abstract.

Albert Namatjira's 'Sunset in Ormiston Gorge' (C) Namatjira Legacy Trust / Copyright Agency

[the-blog-of-self-indulgence]

Crowley fighting with a midwife part 2!!

Oh hey! A part two!!! I absolutely had so plan or plot for this so it’s probably pretty shit but hey it’s here! Inspired by @top-crowley-central and I’s talk of some pregnant Aziraphale headcanons. So that being said if ya don’t like mpreg now is the time to leave 👉

(Apologies for any grammar mistakes)

The two angels composed themselves as much as they could. Crowley now standing awkwardly in a corner, still holding the pillow that knocked him on his ass.

“Well you two seem to have a perfect baby on your hands. Crowley, would you like her back?”

Ariel tried not to laugh as she asked such a stupid question, moving forward to Crowley with a content, sleeping baby. Crowley simply dropped the pillow he held and took his child, she was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen, next to Aziraphale of course. He brushed a gentle claw over her face, jumping as she moved into it. She yawned and opened her eyes only a bit. Blue. The most brilliant blue. He was completely enamoured by her to the point he didn’t notice the tears pouring down his face. She was angelic.

“Crowley.”

A gentle voice called to him. Aziraphale watching with the same emotion overflowing, Crowley shakily walked back over to the bed. He was so scared to disturb her. His fangs had shortened, scales had disappeared, nails only a bit longer than his usual look. He again wrapped his wing around them, he didn’t even notice.

“You know we’ll need to pick a name for her.”

Aziraphale spoke as laid his head on Crowleys angular shoulder.

“What about Eve.”

Crowley joked with a laugh, leaning into Aziraphale's touch. But Aziraphale didn’t respond right away, or laugh, or scoff. Crowley looked down to him,

“Eve is beautiful...”

Crowley didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t think Aziraphale would ever consider such a name. He looked down to her again.

“Eve it is then...”

He smiled and kissed his angels head. They both closed their eyes, it had been an extremely eventful 6 hours. It was time they both needed their rest. But of course Their rest was cut very short, a cry breaking the silence. Crowley sat up in a panic, looking over her, did he squish her to much? Was she scared? What happened?!

Ariel had walked over again,

“Ahh what’s going on! What happened! Is she ok!”

The two angels tried not to laugh again.

“She’s most likely hungry by now, let’s she how she does with her first meal.”

Aziraphale took her from Crowley and sat up more. Ariel helped him get into the correct and comfortable position. As well as trying to keep Crowley out of her work space. Aziraphale tried his best but between the two of them she wouldn’t latch on to him. Aziraphale started to get upset, he felt he was doing everything wrong already.

“Crowley!”

Ariel called at him.

“Sit next to Aziraphale and relax before smack you, and be a good husband instead of an annoyance.”

Crowley was surprised at her tone but did as he was told, sitting next to Aziraphale.

“It will be alright, this is the first time for both of you, she’ll do it, I promise.”

Ariel calmed him as she helped, moving Eve down a bit, and directing her head in the proper position. Only a few more tries before she was content and eating happily. Aziraphale smiled and looked to Crowley who kissed his soft, yet slightly less curly hair.

~

Finally, Crowley had got her to sleep, she hated the crib. But, she was asleep, and Aziraphale was too. He then very quietly sat on their bed and took and much needed deep breath. He looked over to Aziraphale and smiled, he loved him so much. Even as Aziraphale was asleep he looked absolutely exhausted. Crowley was too, but the need to watch over them highly outweighed it. He imagined all the things they’d do as a family soon, feeding the ducks, reading the multitude of books they owned, scaring customers out of the shop.

He was so happy.

[northbrookpl]

Watch:

Slasher: The Executioner -  A young woman returns to the small town where her parents were murdered only to find the past re-emerging as a new series of murders begins.

Read:

Final Girls by Riley Sager -  When Quincy Carpenter survived a massacre while the rest of her friends were murdered, the press labeled her a "Final Girl"- part of a group that consisted of two other women who were the only ones to survive their own tragedies. Quincy has no desire to claim this label and wants to move on. But when one of the final girls dies, and the other confronts Quincy, claiming that a killer might be targeting them, Quincy’s new life unravels.

Nailbiter by Joshua Williamson -  Buckaroo, Oregon has given birth to sixteen of the most vile serial killers in the world. An obsessed FBI profiler investigating the town has suddenly gone missing, and now NSA Agent, Nicholas Finch, must work with the notorious serial killer Edward "Nailbiter" Warren to find his friend and solve the mystery of where serial killers come from.

Security by Gina Wohlsdorf -  As hotel manager Tessa and her employees ready the posh and indulgent Manderley Resort for its invitation-only grand opening, a killer is in their midst, despite the best security money can buy.

The Vanishing Season by Joanna Schaffhausen -  Ellery Hathaway is a police officer who hides her identity as a serial killer's only surviving victim while overseeing petty crime in a sleepy community. But when three people disappear from the town over the course of three years she worries the disappearances are connected to that fateful night. 

Dark Places by Gillian Flynn -  Libby Day was seven when her mother and two sisters were murdered in "The Satan Sacrifice of Kinnakee, Kansas". She escaped and survived to later testify that her 15-year-old brother Ben was the killer. Twenty-five years later she is contacted by "The Kill Club" and pumped for information they hope to use to free Ben. Libby hatches a plan to profit from her tragic past but ends up being chased by a killer.

[arievanburhen]

SURPRISE BITCH [March 19, 2019]

IN PROGRESS

Eberhard moves to bring his interwoven hand along with Arie's, moving the latter side up to his lips as he plants a soft kiss onto his fingers, thanking him for the welcome night out alongside him, feeling a warm bubbly sensation rising from him at the excellent libations and energy of the night. Moving to retrieve his keys from his pocket, focusing a few moments longer than usual to find the exact key, as he turns it inside the door, expecting the pattering sound of Barbara's feet, yet to no avail, cocking his head a bit at the realization before brushing it off as most likely some quality Emery and Barbara time, which was of course, always par for the course. "I did promise you a drink, did I not?" Eberhard recalls, turning to Arie a content grin moving onto his lips as he moves to take his coat off, tossing it onto the couch as he walks by it, intending to make his way over to the bar to make one, for the both of them.

A smile crosses Arie's lips as he moves with his parter towards the door to his condo, moving to plant a soft kiss on his cheek in return, wanting Eberhard to think nothing of it, the celebration being something he was more than happy to do, before he hears Eberhard's offer. "You did indeed, Eberhard, and who would I be if I didn't hold you to it, truly?" He offers, moving over to the record player as he sifts through a few of Emery's odds and ends, before pulling out the record he was looking for. "We do have one more dance we must indulge in on your birthday, though, Eberhard, to make it truly proper," he offers, moving to put the Cameo record on as he hears the familiar beat move through the room, slowly dancing his way over to Eberhard as he offers his hand as he recites the iconic introductory line as he locks eyes with his partner.

Eberhard goes to pour the liquids inside the shaker making sure to be a bit more heavy-handed than usual due to Arie's aversion to cocktails, figuring he'd slowly build his tolerance to them eventually, about to start shaking it before he hears the iconic beat begin to move throughout the room, a warm chuckle bubbling from Eberhard's lips as he takes in Arie's moves towards him. Closing his eyes as he moves his head back, taking in the song, "This is suuuuuuuuuuuuch a...mmm, I love this songggg." He happily declares, taking hold of Arie's and moving freely to the beat as he begins to deeply sing along with it before his motions become slower as he falls into Arie, taking hold of his face in his hands "Annnnnd, I love you, you know." He murmurs softly, planting a kiss along the corner of Arie's mouth, continuing to sway along to the song, moving his hands down along Arie's back, keeping him close, as they continue to dance, about to lean in for another kiss, until his attention is drawn over to the door, a strike of surprise moving through him at the sight.

Fitz shoulders pasts Emery - having bumped into him on the street - as he moves to open the door twirling his sparklers around as he hops in between whatever was happening between his brother and Arie, moving to plant a few kisses onto his brother's temple, "Ebskiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie, happy hippoty burfday slooooooot muffin!" He loudly broadcasts, waving the sparklers around as he presents Ellery to come through with the red velvet and coconut cupcakes he had picked up from some fruity tooty bakery, sticking the two candles in the two middlemost cupcakes, chanting for Eberhard to blow them out, letting out a raucous cheer as he obliges, "C'mon, we gotta turnipppppppppppppppppppp!"

"And I love you," Arie responds as he wraps his arms around Eberhard, momentarily swaying to the beat with him as a twitch of a smile forms on his lips, enjoying the moment with Eberhard and the delightful song until...."Fitz?" Arie offers, a strike of confusion moving through him as he takes in Fitz entering with...the Egen girl, for some reason, that element making it all the more confusing, casting a glance at Eberhard, uncertain if this was planned.

"-Wha..." Eberhard begins as he bears witness to the cacophony of sounds and lights and sensations all barreling at him at once, looking over to Emery for some sort of preamble, before he regains some semblance of reality to the moment, moving to blow the sparklers out, drawing his brother into a tight embrace. "I didn't expect to see you. I missssed you." He softly and genuinely says to his brother, lingering in the embrace, before he hears the words and feels him take hold of his arm, leading him away, letting out a laugh, "Wait, where are we going?" He attempts to ask, still feeling a bit off balance in the particular moment, "Ellery, goooood to see you." He softly smiles, realizing she was there as well, as he leans over a bit looking on the other side of Fitz.

Emery gives a simple shrug, not knowing anything more about the alleged celebration than his partner did, but figuring like Gatsby said, a little party never killed nobody, and even if it did, he already had a suit picked out for Eber's funeral, though it would be damn unfortunate of him not making it to the flight for the birthday trip he had booked the following morning. "You heard her, Eber. Follow them."

Arie leans in close to Eberhard, taking in the enthusiasm of Ellery and Fitz, finding it wouldn't be the worst thing, truly, to go out again, leaning in to give Eberhard a kiss of affirmation. "I suppose we can follow them, but you cannot forget that you still owe me a drink wherever we go. Do not forget, Eberhard," he lowly reminds, the faintest hint of playfulness crossing into his tone.

"Alllll rightttt..." He caves at the chorus of voices insisting he follow along, a gentle smile forming onto his lips as he feels Arie's fall onto them, "I'm sure you'll remind meeee, of course. HmmmmMmmmm?" He lowly and easily offers back, pressing another warm kiss onto Arie's lips, turning to reach out for Ewe as he takes Ellery's hand, even before he hears Fitz' insistence on him joining, too, echoing his words and distinct tone, "You Heard The Mannnnnnnn..."

"As a wise woman once said," Arie agrees, the particular tone of Eberhard's hm reminding him of Jelena, wherever she was, it not being of terribly much concern to him, truly, pressing his lips against Eberhard's, before waiting for Fitz and Ellery to take them to wherever they were heading, prepared to expect the unexpected, as was the usual course from the two of them.

[epeolatrist]

Book Review: The Hazel Wood

I am obsessed...enthralled, enchanted, possibly even bewitched by this book. The Hazel Wood was an utterly all consuming, wild ride that melded the contemporary and the fantastic, the beautiful and the creepy, even horrific, to deliver a tale about what it means to write your own story.

Honestly and truly I think anyone who considers themselves part of the booklr community will find this a super rewarding read.

Summary:

Alice has never had roots, always moving, always running from the bad luck that dogs her and her mother at ever turn. She's the granddaughter of Althea Proserpine, the infamous author of The Hinterland. Though Alice has never read the stories, she feels an odd connection with the twisted fables she knows it contains. This affinity fast turns to fear when Alice returns home one day to find her mother missing and her grandmother's stories coming to life in the most terrifying way. With the help of a hardcore Hinterland fan named sellers Finch, she must escape the Stories and find her mother, but every move they make reveals more lies, mysteries, and deeper ties to the Hinterland than Alice ever suspected. Review: I LOVED this book. There is something so relatable magical and creepy about this two person family living on the road, this girl who remembers highways and streetlights and books better than her actual life. In fact, Alice was one of the most relatable characters I've encountered. I felt a strong personal connection with her relationship with her mother, her nomad existence, and her love of books. Sometimes having a book lover as the main character can feel self-indulgent, but in this case, Alice and Ellery served as vehicles to the discussion of books, reading, writing, and storytelling that is a critical part of the theme of this story. This isn't so much a fairytale as an love letter to stories, to those who read them and to those who write them--to the good and the bad of what it means to escape into fictional worlds. Ellery and Alice were the kind of fanciful yet practical characters that make for great protagonists in a story where the real melts into the magical. Their friendship-with-potential was a subtle yet central part of the plot and I was genuinely surprised with how it progressed at every turn. Ellery's fate was at once shocking and satisfying, but I felt Alice was unfinished and I could see a follow up about either or both of them. The plot itself was genuinely surprising with subtle foreshadowing and elements that made it feel like a familiar fairy tale and at the same time something wholly new and unique. Readers of fairy tales and fae stories will find this a particularly rewarding read, though it's more than accessible to those with no fairy tale knowledge. Apart from the fantasy elements, this book also contains a very real perspective on class, on coming of age, on mother-daughter friendships, on being a teenager seeking your path in life. The message is especially relevant to book lovers who have spent their lives yearning for the kind of adventure they read about. Albert has created an alternate multiverse where anything is possible if you're willing to pay the price, where magic can cross realms and stories can become reality, and I truly hope we see more of it in the future. Similar Vibes: The Iron Fey series (Kagawa), Enchanted (Kontis), Wintersong (Jae-Jones), Once Upon a Time (tv show), Grimm (tv show), The Raven Cycle (Stiefvater)

Disclaimer: I received this ebook as an ARC from Netgalley in exchange for honest feedback.

[august-wynter]

August never managed peace, not in the typical sense, the one that many people were afforded during some normal point during life or even the day. More often at night, but sleep were restless and the fuzzy at the edges sensations and images that toyed with the deeper parts of his thoughts were very rarely anything of comfort or solace in the darkness. Too often they came with teeth and claws, with regrets as weapons and he had forgotten long ago what it was to escape to dreams as anything but insanity, he had learned to embrace the wildness of his own mind and steel himself to it. What could it throw at him that wasn't rooted in the truth, wasn't some memory only amplified to make the edges more gory?  What was there to fear in the dark when he felt it so distinctly under his skin, saw it reflected in a flicker behind his own eyes when he looked in the mirror?

He never put faith in dreams being good, in feeling like something to be drawn into, because that wasn't the way it worked for him. Whatever childish ability other people possessed that offered freedom in it had evaded him for too long, so long he didn't miss it, too long to even recall the feeling of such things. Which made the lapping thoughts all the more perplexing, there was no simplicity in it either because August had always dreamed vividly. Perhaps not the dreams of the dead who whispered their secrets the way he knew October did, nor June's strange almost-visions of the present and rarer gleans of what might have been the future in places they had never been and likely never would go; August's dreams held only the magic of being intensely saturated with all the colors and sensations that made them stronger than real life. Little wonder he was restless in the night; the world flooded his thoughts too brightly, too demanding. The only escape he was granted was in never knowing, not realizing those dreams when they played out behind his eyelids, not until after waking. 

That was likely why the air felt too crisp, too clear, and he could not taste the bitterness of chemicals and ruin laced into it as it was drawn deeply into his lungs and exhaled in a lazy way. That was how he felt, lethargic in a way that was pleasant, in heavy limbs and cloudy thoughts to match the skies about their impossible blue dotted with a few white wisps curling along unconcerned with the happenings far below. It felt nearly sinful to have nothing on his mind, no worries and no plans, only the empty skies and the warmth of sunlight sinking deeper and deeper into his skin like a blanket. He could have dropped his eyes shut at any second and drifted to sleep, rare that his guard was down, but he felt only that ease. 

He didn't though, sleep, because little things kept snatching his attention away; the rough feel of stone at his back from the solid wall his shoulders pressed against left a hint of numbness for the way it pressed the fabric into his skin, the still-damp scent of recent rain in the air that only barely obscured everything else and enveloped it. He watched a stray drop left over gather at the smooth edge of one of the thin pillars that held the porch where he resided and drip downward to with a soft sound as it splattered against the moss growing unhindered along the edges of the wood and worming through the cracks in it to the stonework of the small cottage. It felt old, years and years, but he could not recall if it was a place he'd helped build himself or one found along the way. The latter rang more true, somehow, but made it no less home for that. That was the ease in it then, the quiet warmth that wrapped around him as he sat, one knee drawn up and the other left to hang off the edge of the boards where his feet brushed the grass below; it felt like home. 

The world was somewhere strange, the poison no longer thick in the air and the ground no longer ashes but who knew how, or when, that had come to pass because August himself found no recollection of such things. All he found was willing acceptance of what it was and what it meant; that warmth spread out from the central point where he sat and the world offered it back in green and growing things around him, in chirping creatures and life. 

He wanted nothing else in that moment. 

Except it wasn't true, not an instant later when the creak of a door that always protested after the rain caused his eyes to give up chasing those glimmering drops and turned instead to another piece of that puzzle snapped neatly into place. 

"You've been out here since morning." The words held no chastising, only observation, and were as calm as everything else that moment, August let them wash over him and add to the humming comfort. He had no intention of moving then, not yet, and the witch knew it, they both knew the words were only for the sake of curiosity. 

He felt the shift of the porch with footsteps, the boards springing lightly, the motion from the corner of his eye as the tall figure made a mostly steady effort of sitting down as well. Instinctively his hand lifted and caught at a shoulder, what had used to be a joke over clumsiness had become just another habit they both had fallen into; it was always better to be cautious when the other man was hardly the most stable on his feet in even the best moments.

Ellery brought with him the scent of flowery tea from the mug in his hands, it mixed in bare ways with everything else about him; airy tones that had picked up the echo of soil and herbs from his garden tangled with the electrifying hint of his magic more at rest but never entirely, and always that underlying flutter of something so distinctly him that August hadn't been able to find the words for it no matter how hard he tried. It was a scent that always stirred him though, one that anymore he could find a hint of his own lingering with, that indulgent sense of the witch and the sense of mine that went with it and played to his own instincts. August let it all settle around him in a bubble that the world could not step across, could not pull him free of. 

"I might be out here all day." A smile crept to the edges of his lips with the notion but more so when the witch had finally found a comfortable spot and he felt the welcomed weight against his shoulder before he leaned into it. "I like the way things smell after the rain." It was only idle, the conversation, because August's thoughts were wrapped up thin and delicate in other places, his focus drifting instead to Ellery as they often did whenever in his presence. 

The witch only chuckled and lifted his mug to drink, August could tell the shift of muscles in the motion in spots where the other's back was nearly flush to his side and even that felt so very alive and reassuring right then. In that fuzzy at the edges feeling he was lulling. "Or we could just go back to bed, if you're that bored," he added, knowing how it still brought an instant of red across the witch's face no matter how many times he said things like that. 

Part of the fun really, how that never got old. 

And Ellery was stumbling through a few words that August could barely hear, no doubt an attempt to agree with how appealing an idea it was, because he was too busy studying the other man's features and his mannerisms. He knew it all by sight and most by touch, even taste, there was the distinct awareness of having mapped everywhere to the witch on enough occasions that he had lost track but still, even so, he never grew tried of taking it all in. Every little detail held something that was only Ellery and he couldn't pick out among them his favorites. 

But he did know how to stifle the conversation, how to free Ellery from his endearing scattered words, and it was as uncomplicated as turning towards him and stealing a kiss. The taste of the strange concoction of herbs the witch was drinking left his lips tingling before it had drawn to an end but August only chuckled, nimble fingers catching hold of the hand around the mug and sliding under it to take the heavy object and set it aside before it was dropped. Because it would be, with distraction Ellery forgot everything else and may as well have been a ghost for all his ability to interact with any part of the world that wasn't directly grounded to August. It suited the familiar fine though, and once again 'mine' reverberated like a pleased hum along his nerves as he could feel magic that he had a difficult time placing anymore which of them it fully belonged to fill the space between them. 

That twisted, tangled up power wasn't subtle, he could feel it along his nerves, across the black lines etched across his hand as a gateway, and in places that weren't physical; some complicated mix of the two rather than one or the other. It had frightened him before but that felt long past, a ghost wandering some other lifetime he had lost connection with, and left behind was only something that matched Ellery's pulse and countered his own, blurring lines between the two. Before the feeling could ebb August had ducked in for another kiss, fingertips toying with buttons on the witch's shirt that he didn't tug free just yet but the promise of it left the other once again trying to catch up and ruining the kiss with some silly string of words. 

"We're outside," Ellery's protest was a light one and August laughed because what did it matter? As if there were anyone around for miles? Of course not, he wouldn't allow such things; the world may have been kinder in slowly coming back to life but that didn't mean he was willing to risk on chance alone the safety of his mate. He most certainly would not have permitted anyone to venture too close to their little corner of the world. Ellery knew that, just as he knew that eventually the protest would die because the smirk on the familiar's lips always made the pit of his stomach heat and want creep along his spine. That smirk undid him every time, or maybe it was the combination of it with the affection reflected in August's winter-blue eyes that made it so impossible to resist. 

The witch shook his head, a smile finally offered, reply enough if the already heady scent of arousal hadn't told August more than he needed; in no uncertain terms urged him, rest of the world be damned, to pull the other man into the thin amount of space between them and let his hands roam downward to undo buttons one by one in practiced motion. 

Would it ever cease catching Ellery off guard? The instant fabric was shoved aside and bare fingertips found skin? Probably not. But he liked the subtle jump when his hands brushed old and empty scars and only the memory of a curse written on that skin, something of a map to the past that he could feel in raised lines. Not nearly enough but a start, yes, his mind already busy with a dozen different ideas and each of them more distracting than the last. He spared a moment to reach again, already feeling as though he'd spent too much time with that pause.  

But then there was only hazy disruption, the sharp focus of light across his eyes and August groaned, arm lifted to drop across his face before he realized it hadn't been actual morning that had broken his thoughts and scattered them to far corners. He lamented the loss for a second, not just for the mild ache his body protested with but something else, something that itched under his skin with confusion and a different sort of hollow feeling. 

He mumbled to himself as the real world dissolved the dream, knowing he'd have it again, the past week he'd returned to the same one half a dozen times and each time it only felt more real. But it wasn't, it was only real enough to send a trickle of guilt over him when he shut his eyes and found memories there instead. Memories he was betraying, little by little, more and more the longer he spent time with the witch. 

"You need to stop that." 

The words were jarring as they broke the silence of his bedroom but he didn't need to move or even glance up to know who had spoken. He didn't need to debate what they referenced because who, out of anyone, would have more of a front row seat to even his dreams than his strange sibling. 

No doubt why it had ended abruptly, as was not often the case the first few times and August was grateful that some basic instinct had shoved him out of that hazy place in his own mind before October could witness the full extent of the places his subconscious liked to wander. Even knowing the idea would not have effected the other familiar in the least did not make him any more eager to share the details of what his mind dredged up when it came to that foggy intimacy with Ellery. 

"Could you please stop wandering where you shouldn't be? You want to sleep here that's fine but stay out of my head." There was some frustration to it but it was tempered because he couldn't stand to take too rough a tone with his sibling; October was only what they were and chiding them for that seemed deeply unfair. "Just, it's difficult enough dealing with this myself since he's been here." 

"You think that's what's causing it? Stirring up your instincts because he's physically around more?" The question was a curious one but August had no doubt October already had answers to it without his offering any. He only barely felt the bed shift under the faint weight that marked his sibling abandoning whatever spot from before to sit on the bed instead, the shuffle marking how the slighter creature had stretched out and likely stolen the other pillow in getting settled. "You dream very loudly, we can't help overhearing them."

He dreamed loudly. If the words had come from anyone else August would have found them absurd. As it was he could only frown and move his arm to stare at the ceiling, still uncomfortable but that would resolve itself since he was in no state to do anything about it given that he had an audience. 

"We don't really care, if you want time alone?" 

"Gaia no, stop saying things like that." August tipped his head back and lifted one hand to scrub his palm against his eye sockets, almost forgetting until right then that October did not live in the normal world where people didn't pick up on other's thoughts and feelings and they most certainly did not suggest to their brother that they could come back to continue a discussion after he'd dealt with lingering arousal from a dream they had interrupted. He tried so hard to treat October normally that he fell into the trap of assuming they thought along any sort of typical path. 

"Alright." Agreeable enough, they gave the silence a few breaths before speaking once more. "Your dreams are very intense, but you ignore them; it's not healthy to be that afraid of yourself." 

The words hit a nerve that would have caused anger with most people but October, again, dwelt in some strange place that August could not understand. Often he wondered if the emptiness that was too common in his sibling's eyes was because they were there, in some place where spirits kept them better company than the living could offer and granted them little secrets along the way, rather than having much use for the real world. 

He feared it too, honestly, knowing one day it was likely they wouldn't bother to come back from it because it was a place better suited for them. "They feel real." He corrected, "I'm not like you though, or June. I don't see things that happen, they're just dreams." Because what sort of future would have been like that? What sort of place was that calm and lacking the violence and poison of where they existed? There was nothing real to those dreams, only his mind wanting for something that felt out of place. 

October regarded him with a tilt of head, wondering how truly foolish and stubborn he could be, but that was a strength and a weakness both. "You dream of things you want, because you make your future and you always have. More than the rest of us. But you underestimate that magic and mistake it for only willpower." How difficult it was to explain to August, who should have known as easily as knowing himself, that he was no different than the rest of the family in how something to him was a different sort of magic. He took his determination and gathered it like it was a learned habit, never seeing how it was only the catalyst needed for him to change things. Many people set out with the determination to find the things they wanted but only August had some subtle power in using it to create his own path. "We've lost count of how many times you've thrown things all out of balance with that." Humor, because it was taken better as a joke, but one day it wouldn't be only one and August would understand. 

"It's just because there's someone in my space, constantly, you know my magic is selfish like that." Hungry was a better word, that magic was a relentless hunter at times when it came to power, it only seemed passively content in Ellery's presence but that didn't mean it was more than a match in power. His own complicated feelings aside, there was too much to his own past than could allow for more than that being the truth. October's brow furrowed, there was no easy way to reach past those walls even for them, because August was a creature of habit and one who thought control was less complex than desire, not able to see how much the two overlapped. 

"It wasn't Aarin, for everything you felt for him and what it meant for you he still isn’t coming back and he didn't linger here; he was done with this place. It's not a grave you want to dig but you've spent so long lying in it because of someone you couldn't save and you certainly can' bring back." October didn't want to be unkind, never did it cross their mind to hurt any of their family, but they knew the lines connecting those two had snapped with death and what August felt he still felt out of need to hold on to what he had seen in it. That wasn't even the truth but nobody saw that when it came to misguided love; there was no point in trying to voice that Aarin had been in some ways very cruel, demanding things that never should have been, and the person August had discovered in the vampire had never been the one he had loved who had been alive in their youth. 

Words for another day, perhaps, because for everything about August that was strong they knew some things to their brother were still incredibly delicate. 

August didn't ant to hear any of it, because October had a way to them that was resolute and difficult to argue with. The past haunted him, guilt ate under his skin, but what else was there? Blood. An endless amount of terrible things that had been then and still were, because the addiction still resided there and he indulged it. Gaia damn him but he still chased the taste and the satisfaction in it; and Ellery for all the good to the man would never fully understand or accept that he was a predator by learned design. The scent was still enough to drag up the cravings, it was all too much knowing what he was. It didn't matter, because regardless of how he felt it was never going to wash the blood off his hands. He barely knew how he felt in the first place, maybe it all came down to Ellery being so accepting made it easier to get close to him but that didn't mean it was good for either of them in the end, did it? 

"You're going to kill him." 

For an instant August took the words too literal, some declaration from October of things to come and he felt his blood turn to ice water as he jolted up, sitting and jerking his head towards the other familiar, too certain he didn't want that truth but afraid not to hear it if that was the case. Because if he knew he could avoid it, he could leave in an instant, better to know something would happen to the witch because of him so he could change it. The thought twisted up in his stomach and robbed his lungs of air, refusal flaring up somewhere in his magic like an angry animal ready to snap and snarl. 

"Not that way." The clarity was almost cruel, no doubt it had been for the sake of getting a reaction from him. "But you may as well go ahead and dig another grave if you're always going to keep him at a distance. That's not life, for either of you. And while you might be able to stand that he can't, and you'd be doing the same thing to him that Aarin did to you." The words left uncomfortable little claws behind, even with the relief of knowing they hadn't been a proclamation of impending doom they carried just as much weight and all of it fell on August's shoulders, threatening to crush him. Barely did he notice when the bed shifted and suddenly October was on their feet, fading out of the conversation like a specter with the sound of light footsteps. "If you can't do that then you let him go and give him a chance to find someone else." 

The finality of it was marked by the door shutting behind them, the sliver of light from the hallway it cast when opened and the utter darkness that engulfed the room once it had been closed. August sat there, blinking his way through the words before he finally sank down and tossed his arm back across his eyes. What did he feel? Was it being possessive just for the sake of protecting the witch? His magic stirring only for want of power? Was everything else just friendship? If that were the full sum of it why did his muscles tense at the idea of Ellery forgetting him when someone else came into his life? Chances were he could have never been there for long anyway, at the start August had promised himself the instant the witch didn't need him then he would walk away and consider it done but that point was already passed. Ellery was strong enough on his own now, he didn't need to be constantly led because he had the confidence to find those things himself if he needed to. 

He'd overstayed, by long bounds, he'd grown too close and he'd allowed himself to take those intentions and rearrange them. The witch had become less a chance to do something good with what remained of his life and more a reason to see the good in it. October was right; he was taking something away from Ellery that was not fair to take because he was never going to be the person the witch seemed to see him as. There would always be blood. 

It was still deep and dark in the night but August was too restless to sleep, because he knew with that surrender would come only one of two things; nightmares or dreams. The nightmares would be old and stale, claws and terror and painted with death that wasn't his own. They would cut through his sanity with memories of loss and all the terrible things he'd done, all the equally terrible things done to him; he had visited that personal hell too many times not to know it intimately. But the dreams were what he didn't want to face, not again, not yet. Because their flickers of stray hopes that still felt so new and nothing he deserved,  promises broken over things that couldn't be; those were going to torment him far worse.

[eloarei]

So I made a post about my WIPs the other day (cuz I was tagged in a meme, but I still did it), so I figured I’d make a post about the fics I’ve actually friggin’ finished.  (Also because someone expressed a mild interest in them, and you know how I am with someone expressing a mild interest: “Hey let’s write a novel about the thing you only briefly mentioned!!” ^^; )  Under the cut, stuff I’ve written in the past few years, including original fic (with picture references too). 

FANFIC HINABN (Hanna Is Not A Boy’s Name) :       Rogue -- 142k -- (FINISHED) Hanna Cross has tried to put his morbid past behind him, but then the zombie of a man he once loved comes to his door, asking for help solving the mystery of his resurrection, with no clue that he and Hanna were once close, or that Hanna was at least partly responsible for his death. (Includes grim reapers, necromancy, demon, and copious amounts of guilty inner-monologuing.)       Rogue-likes -- 21k -- Side stories related to Rogue.  Back to the Future       Never Sleep Again -- 7k -- (FINISHED) Doc messes something up on one of his trips back in time, and when he returns he finds his relationship with Marty isn’t how he left it.       On Track -- 11k (WIP, 2/6) -- Young Emmett Brown is saved by, and then haunted by, the ghost of a young man he won’t properly meet for another 50 years.  Overwatch       Sagittarius -- 4k (WIP, 1/15) -- Jesse, a young centaur, is kidnapped and sold into slavery to the yakuza. He befriends the family’s heir, Hanzo, and escapes. 20 years later, they meet again as Overwatch teammates, and finally have a chance to work out their fledgling relationship from before. Final Fantasy XV       Through the Night, to the Day -- 4k -- (FINISHED) Noctis is willing to sacrifice his life to save his people, but he still wishes he could live to see another sunrise.  Pacific Rim       Redefined -- 11k (WIP, 6/20) -- Many years after fending off the kaiju invasion, the descendants of Newt and Hermann carry their memories, and put their heads together to defeat the monsters again.  One Piece       Grow -- 2k -- (FINISHED) A short character study of how Helmeppo changed after his father was promoted.       Charmed -- 2k -- (FINISHED) The Red-Hair pirates (and the relationship between the captain and first mate) from Makino’s perspective.       Rivalry -- 1.5k -- (FINISHED) Buggy has a love-hate relationship with Shanks.      Untitled Cobymeppo oneshot -- 12k and counting -- (Not finished or posted yet, but I swear I’m gonna finish it soon) A land-locked knights AU, Coby and Luffy go to confront the neglectful lord of Shells Town, but Coby is captured by the vicious beast that guards the castle.  Boku no Hero Academia       Standing -- 1k -- (FINISHED) All Might has to learn to let go.       All Night -- 1k -- (FINISHED) Izuku makes a typo and everyone starts ragging on him for his crush. A chat log.       Atlas -- 4.5k -- (FINISHED) (AU) Nobody appreciates the god who holds up the world.       Touch -- 6.5k -- (FINISHED) (AU) From a young age, Izuku feels the pain of his mysterious soulmate, who can’t seem to take care of himself.       Make the Most -- 32.5k -- (WIP) (AU) Izuku was always told he’d never meet All Might, but somehow he’s just become his Teacher’s Assistant .      Define “Adult” -- 1.5k -- (FINISHED) All Might doesn’t know how to adult.       Charity -- 5.5k -- (FINISHED) Class 1-A wins their pining classmate a date with their celebrity teacher.       Withdrawal -- 4.5k -- (FINISHED) Toshinori worries he’s useless without his powers, and tries to separate himself from Izuku.       Starving -- 1k -- (FINISHED) A golden thread ties together their willing hearts and empty stomachs.       Thanks to You -- 28k -- (FINISHED!) Being fake-married is dangerous. It inevitably leads to wanting more. A tropey Thanksgiving meet-the-family fic.       English -- 3.5k -- (FINISHED) Izuku needs help translating his fanmail.       Run -- 3k -- (FINISHED) (AU) Izuku goes for a midnight run in the city, where he meets a rather imposing vigilante who tells him he probably shouldn’t. ORIGINAL FIC  Damsel Co.              Pictures of them here!       Damsel Co. beginning 2016 rewrite -- 3.5k (WIP) -- Ellery wants to see the world, Addisson wants to rescue a princess, Hunter also wants to rescue a princess except no he doesn’t, and Isabelle just wants to get the hell away. The story of 4 adventurers finding their identities and maybe falling in love along the way, I dunno.      Cecilia’s story -- 5k -- Backstory for a secondary main character.       Older stuff (a separate post with links) -- The original first 5 chapters are here, along with misc side stories.  Alien Anthem (Note, only Chapter 1, Chapter 2, 4th of July ficlet, Snake’s POV, and Bren’s Origin are technically canon? mostly because I haven’t decided how self-indulgent I want this to really be, and all the others include a very self-indulgent ship.) (Total wordcount so far: 25k+)              Pictures of them here!      Chapter 1 -- 2k? -- Aliens bet over which human is going to survive the zombie apocalypse. On Earth, Bren just wants a hotdog.       Chapter 2 -- 3k? -- An alien practices English. Bren has a breakdown.       Snake’s POV -- 2k -- Chapters 1 and 2 from Snake’s POV.       Chapter ??? part1 -- 7k -- Months later, Bren is getting used to the aliens, though he mostly still thinks they’re dicks.       Chapter ??? part2 -- 2.5k -- Bren thinks maybe he has another option but lol no he doesn’t.       Hybrid babies -- 3k --  Snake has babies. One’s not quite right.       A 4th of July side-story -- 1k -- Bren thinks about his brother.       Bren’s Origin story -- 4k -- Shit it’s the zombie apocalypse. Spoiler alert: everyone dies.       An AU very-not-canon side story -- 1.5k -- Bren’s on a space station, getting propositioned by a reptile.       (other fics potentially available upon request) -- Snake has no boundaries; Ant and Ling are terrible friends.  Moptail -- 3k? -- A rich young man elopes with his humanoid servant girlfriend and runs off to the seaside where his racist parents can’t find them. (Except this particular installment doesn’t get that far.)  Rose By Another Name (only notes, plot outline/synopsis) -- 2k? -- Sleeping Beauty meets Beauty and the Beast. Well, sort of.  Misc.      Cadoba story -- 2k -- Centaur Princess Cadoba goes to the human world.      

[ianfaulkner1-blog]

 ICW is the Indian fashion industry’s most prestigious platform. It’s the ideal destination for anyone looking for exclusive, luxurious fashion. Not only do designers present their freshest and most desirable ensembles here, the latest trends in Hair and Makeup are also unveiled at ICW,” says Sonic Sarwate, Senior Global Make Up Artist, MAC. Ten leading India dazzled in the finest sphere of style, craftsman ship and opulence  at India couture week 2019.

Day 1- Amit Aggarwal

Introduced his Couture 2019 collection ‘LUMEN’,iInspired by the exchange of light through an overlay of framework, fluidity and form. Kiara Advani was the showstopper and muse for ‘LUMEN 2019’ at Amit Aggarwal’s opening show for India Couture Week.

Footwear by: | Stylist by:Day 2-Suneet Varma

Suneet’s Couture ’19 collection is titled Amara. “India has a century-old love affair with couture, or made to measure for pleasure. There is no denying the luxurious indulgence of precious finery, the magical beauty of one-off embellished wedding attire and the sparkle of personalized jewels that are made to match with it,” says the couturier.

Day 3-Mosaic is an art form made by assembling small pieces of glass, ceramic or other materials and is often used as a decorative technique in architecture. Byzantine empire when it was gloriously used on walls and ceilings in basilicas and churches. Pankaj & Nidhi’s couture collection is a tribute to this period of magnificent ornamentation and the duo have interpreted this with the same artisanal dexterity on textiles.

Jewellery by:Day 3- Rahul Mishra

A romantic articulation of the wildflowers and undergrowth from a nature dwelling, based on excresent memory that is fueled by imagination. Rahul Mishra’s collection was based on his childhood memories.

Day 4- Sulakshana Monga

The Sulakshana Monga Bride is confident and experimental with her sense of style as she keeps in mind her homeland’s rich history and culture. We saw a lot of play in the patterns, we have used frills, rafia and feather. The beautiful Malaika Arora walked the ramp for Sulakhshana Monga.

Day 4- Shyanal and Bhumika

Celebrated and  renowned coturiers Shyamal and Bhumika’s Indian Couture Week Collection for the season is inspired by the iconic period of renaissance which marks the rebirth of art, architecture, music, couture and theatre from the medieval ages to modernity. Bollywood star Kriti Sanon chose to walk for Shyamal and Bhumika.

  Jewellery by:Day 5- Reynu Tandon 

Depicting a contemporary fashion saga, the usage of easy on the eye hues and the miraculous details will take over your heart. The Savanah Saga collection presented by Reynu Tandon was mesmerisng. Stunnig Rakul Preet embraced the ramp for Reynu Tandon.

Jewellery by: Day 5- Falguni Shane Peacock

 ‘Bonjour Amer’ which was presented at the India Couture Week. It was inspired by the magnanimous Fort Amer, situated in the Pink City of Jaipur.The young and effervescent Sara Ali Khan looked exquisite as she walked the ramp in an antique white, crystal cascaded lehenga at the India Couture Week.

Styled by: Rk jewellers

Day 6– Gaurav Gupta

With obsessive attention to detail, for his new couture collection ‘Undercurrent’, Gaurav draws inspiration from the fierce waves of the dynamic ocean that flow in a rhythmic concentricity. The collection is full of electricity and boundless in its form. A Moment Marked In Time’ Debuting Gaurav Gupta Occasions Jewellery Diipa Khosla and Diana Penty made an electric statemen in GG ‘Undercurrent’ couture marking our 15th year milestone.

Day 7- Tarun Tahiliani

A symphony of intricate craftsmanship and redefined traditions. Juxtaposing iconic European construction with classic Indian styles and embroideries, his new couture collection carried rich heritage into a modern way of life. Jewellery  by:Chckout more links like these: A Parisian Symphony By Shyamal and Bhumika At Amazon India Fashion Week! | 10 Dream Brands and Their Flagship Stores in Delhi  | | This Winter Look Haseen, With Abhinav Mishra’s New Fall Winter 2017 Collection – HASEEN 

[roselirry]

a continuation to the au where elle is a model

being lead through the studio surrounded by a security team wasn’t what elle had in mind when she was shuffled out of her cab. she thought it would be easier for her to just figure out where his dressing room was on her own, using her ability to text him to get the proper directions. but, she said nothing, and just allowed herself to be directed to wherever they were taking her. 

“we’re here, people will be in and out all day, and someone will be here to escort you to your seat before the show starts.” a voice said to her, as a hand opened the door to harry’s dressing room. 

ellery nodded, “thank you.” she stepped in, frowning at the empty room. “harry?” there was no answer. 

he was most likely rehearsing. ellery sat down, grabbing the plate of fresh fruit and chowing down as she waited. she scrolled through her twitter feed, groaning at her mentions. people had already found out she was there, igniting more rumors that they were more than just acquaintances who saw each other at events. it was frustrating to her, not the rumors, but the headlines. she didn’t want to be amounted to only someone who was attached to harry, and she didn’t want harry to constantly be ridiculed or labeled as a womanizer. 

he was the opposite. he always had been. 

“oh. hello, love.” 

she looked up, and saw harry standing there, his hand still on the door. he was holding a hat in his hand, his hair in every direction. he looked fluffy and cuddly, just like elle liked. 

he set the hat down and walked over to the couch, sitting next to her, and she draped a leg over his, turning her body in his direction and pressing her nose into his shoulder. she hadn’t seen him in nearly three months, and he had been so busy the past few days in new york that she decided not to bother him. being in the same city made missing him that much worse. “people are thinking we’re dating again.” 

he chuckled, his hand resting on the leg that crossed over his. “people always think we’re dating.” 

“well you do tend to like pictures of me on instagram.” 

harry coughed, his cheek pushing into the top of her head. “i try to be smart about it, i go to the photographer and everything. sometimes my thumb has a mind of its own.” he pinched her thigh. “you’re the one who mentioned me in your story that one time.” 

“um, yeah, because i’m a big fan.” ellery chuckled. 

“i remember watching it over and over and laughing.” 

ellery rolled her eyes, reaching her hand around to cup the back of his neck. “missed you,” she mumbled before pressing her lips against his. she was smart, only wearing chapstick rather than lipstick, because she knew she was going to have to kiss him. “three months is too long, i think.” she pulled back, her hand moving to his jaw. “i don’t like it.” 

harry smiled, “me either. we’ll fix it.” 

elle grinned, “i know.” she kissed him again. “you nervous?” 

“a little, but not as much as i thought i would be.” he held her closer, “probably because you’re here.” he pinched her again. 

elle giggled into his neck. “probably. so, i have a question for you.” 

“do you? i kind of wanted to catch up on this,” he kissed her again, the type of kiss that wouldn’t start anything, but wouldn’t end quickly. it just felt good to be together again. 

they would never say they felt like a part of themselves was missing without the other person being a constant physical presence, but they would admit that it was harder. it was harder to be supportive through a screen, and sometimes it would frustrate them beyond belief leaving each other to contemplate whether they should buy plane tickets. 

ellery humored him, letting herself indulge in his lips and tongue for far longer than she should have. his rings kept getting caught in her hair, but she didn’t care, only laughing against his lips. “harry, love,” she kept trying to get in a word and by the end, he was doing it on purpose, pressing his lips to hers every time she opened her mouth until he couldn’t help but laugh. “harry, baby, i think i’m moving to london.” 

he stopped. 

“i’ve been getting so many offers from companies based in london, and i think i might move.” 

“but you love new york.” 

“i know, but i think it’ll be closer to home.” 

harry’s lips puffed out, eyebrows arching. “but your parents live in the states.” 

ellery laughed, “i know. when i say home, i mean you.” harry was about to interject, but ellery stopped him. “i know what you’re going to say. and i know that you do have to travel a lot, but so do i. but all i know is that we’re never going to keep moving forward together if our home bases are different. i want to be able to have a place we can call ours, you know?” 

harry’s mouth opened. “you want to live together?” 

she smiled. “if you want to. if you don’t think we’re ready, i can get a flat.” he kissed her. pulling her onto his lap so that he could get her closer. 

“i would love for you to come to london, and i would love for you to live with me.” 

****

hours later she was sitting, filming what she could to send to anne because she knew she was having trouble finding a way to watch the show. nick was sitting next to her, leaning in to talk to her every once in a while to make a comment about the show. 

she had spent a majority of the show watching with pride, tearing up during the performances and cheering during the sketches that he was involved in. 

should we just let the press know that we’re together? 

you don’t think “ellery patrick seen moving into harry’s london home...just roommates, or more?” is a catchy headline? aren’t you supposed to be focusing on the show. 

she sent the message, laughing as she looked up to find harry on the stage, staring down at his phone. it was still commercial break. 

do you think the love bite on my neck will give it away? 

unfortunately, i think it will. 

then, officially we are #hellery 

well that’s suitable. 

on another note; i’m v proud of you, baby. 

thank you. i love you. 

THIS JUST IN: HARRY STYLES AND ELLERY PATRICK MADE THEIR FLING OFFICIAL TONIGHT WHEN THEY WALKED OUT HOLDING HANDS AND NOT EVEN INTRUSIVE PAPARAZZI COULD KEEP THE SMILEs OFF THEIR FACES