#I like to create tags for fics

[mx-giraffe]

I- I found this fic.

And I think it’s kind of like amazing???

It can’t be my favourite fic, cuz Under a Moonless Sky already has that spot, so it gets to take second favourite.

It’s called Spirit Son, it’s basically atla except Cool-Actually-A-Spirit-Blue-Spirit-Zuko. Okay it’s a little more complicated than that (good lord is it complicated) but like… that should be enough to get you to read it really shouldn’t it? (Also featuring the painted lady, awesome well-made and written original characters that help improve the overall storytelling and Zuko joining the Gaang early).

Please read it, it’s so amazing.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34168471/chapters/85017253

[astrobei]

he’s very tired after his surprise party btw

[lovesickeros]

☆ you sow; & thus you shall reap what you are owed

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, violence {☆} word count 0.8k

You are dying.

Gold melts into the dirt, bleeds into the very earth that you'd molded by your own hands – a familiarity you do not understand the source of – you know it to be true, yet you do not remember it as Teyvat does. It weeps, in turn, for the way you bleed upon it, the way your lungs strain for breath.

It is fury and sorrow and fear and hatred so raw that your mind buckles.

You will die.

"A dying godling and its judge, it's jury – it's executioners," The voice is hollow and cold, sweeps across your broken body like the first chill of winter, "Archons who saw themselves Gods, now brought to heel by their own hubris."

A cold hand upon your cheek, the brush of a thumb across your lip, the gentle caress of cold across your skin. You know her – you don't remember, you shouldn't recognize her but you do – and she knows you. The cold beckons and you follow, let her kindness settle in the hollow space of your chest. You want to speak, to cry and scream and rage, let the world burn around you in a fit of flames so hot even she cannot contain it – but she silences you, quiets the anger seeping into your blood, quiets Teyvat itself.

"Do not speak, little godling. Guide my hand," She is cold; her hands are not gentle, yet it is bliss compared to the callous, cruel hands that have shattered you. She is cruel and cold and brutal but she is love in the way she kisses the crown of your head. She is love in the way she is the bulwark between you and the world that has scorned you – she is fury in the way she brings them to their knees. "And I shall enact judgement most divine."

They will pray for forgiveness, and they shall find themselves wanting.

"It wasn't our fault!" They cry, but you cannot recognize the voice – it breaks and cracks like glass. "They were too human. How were we meant to know? We– we thought they were.."

Silence.

You watch your judge – the executioner, the blade that shall carve their sins into the very marrow of Teyvat, stand above you like death. As cold as winter and just as brutal. Your temple has been painted in the gold of your divine blood, and she shall complete the masterpiece with their own. The Archons shall become the grandest art in the world – this temple the canvas, their blood the paint and their bodies the palette. The cold that cuts sinew cradles you – it sings to you, whispers sweetly in your ear and carves bone from body in the same breath. The cold presses it's lips to your wrist and it cradles a heart within it's palm – judges them and finds them guilty.

It is her spear that rests between their ribs, her sword that dissects and her dagger that carves – the cold devours.

In the breadth of this divine sanctuary, the Archons dwindle. They become the pieces of a divine work of art, they bleed and bend and break upon her hands. She shakes the heavens and carves mortality into the bones of the divine – your word is Law, and you weave their deaths into the roots of Teyvat itself.

They shall know of their grand folly in every moment henceforth and longer still and they shall weep.

And as the curtain falls, as the world crumbles beneath fist and blade, she cradles your face between hands too cold – as gentle as a shard of ice between your ribs, as brutal as the kiss of gentle snowfall. The world buckles at the loss of six, but she alone does not allow it to break – you will have to mend the wounds of the world when you are well, but today you weep and Teyvat weeps with you.

And alone, the cold remains.

Stone has eroded, the wind has ceased, the flames have been extinguished, the storm has been silenced, the forests have gone quiet and the seas go still.

But the cold remains, bathed in gold.

It wraps you in thick furs, cradles you against the winter storm that brews beneath a veneer of composure. It brings you home – lets the world settle into a stillness and silence that inspires only dread and still she presses a kiss to your brow.

It is cold, but there has never been something so warm.

Where hands have broken you, she drapes you in furs, wipes away the thick gold that clings to your skin. She pieces you back together where you have been shattered, reshapes you where you have been bent – makes of you something new. Not a god and not a mortal but something wedged between them.

But you are yourself.

And you are where you belong.

They shall put you back together and you shall know only the worship worthy of the divine. They shall carve this world into your image, tear out and burn away the rot that festers.

All you need to do is say the word and they shall be your tools to make this world your own.

One word and those who wronged you shall burn, too.

Just one word. That's all it takes, and they shall take away your pain.

[shaylogic]

"Oi, don't wait up for me, yeah?" Charles informs Edwin, "I'll be in Crystal's room all night."

"Charles! I'm surprised at you," Edwin exclaims, looking flustered.

"It's not like that, mate--she's been having nightmares about David and I've agreed to keep her company. Said she feels safer with a friend looking after her, y'know?" He shifts from one leg to the other, one hand rubbing his other arm, absent-mindedly. "It's not a big deal, alright? Just didn't want you wondering after me." He shrugs non-chalantly and gives his partner a gentle clap on the shoulder before re-entering Crystal's room.

She's already changed into her sleep clothes and curled up under the covers. Crystal meets Charles' eyes and pats the bed beside her. With a small smile, he approaches and sits on the side of the bed, leaning on one hand and looking down on her.

"Would you like to talk before bed, or should I leave you to it?"

Seeing him only sit on the edge, she takes his hand and guides him to lay down next to her. "C'mere. Just lay with me, okay? If you don't mind. . .?"

His eyebrows raise and a twinkle of excitement crosses his eyes that he fails to suppress.

Crystal rolls her eyes at him and he chuckles. She pulls his arm over her side and holds onto him as best she can, letting out a long sigh. Charles feels a fluttering sensation in his chest, like a memory of a quickening heartbeat.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sure it'll be less interesting than however you usually spend your nights, and I'm not much company to you when I'm asleep."

He grins, fingers attempting to brush lightly along her back. "I wouldn't say that."

She looks him up and down. "Oh, geez, you're not gonna' like, stare at me all night are you?"

"Well, I don't sleep, but I could try closing my eyes and laying here with you. Seems restful, anyway, doesn't it?" Her brow furrows, and he mirrors her expression, sobering up. "I'm not sure, uh, what your plan was?"

". . .I guess I'm not sure, either. I just didn't want to be alone in this big, empty room tonight."

"You could invite Niko across the hall for a sleepover," he teases, tempting her to explain why she chose him.

She recognizes this immediately and narrows her eyes playfully, pursing her lips, and refusing to take the bait. "You've got a cricket bat handy if any other ghosts or demons decide to pop up overnight. Niko would probably just talk their ear off and try to set them up with each other."

He chuckles. "Tough to argue with that."

. . .

After a while, Crystal's breathing slows, her chest rising and falling in smaller increments. Charles does observe this for a moment, before realizing he's doing exactly what she told him not to do. He shifts so he is staring up at the ceiling.

He can't feel Crystal's breath and warmth beside him. Without looking at her, he could forget she's there. He could just be laying alone in this bed for no reason.

He turns onto his side again, facing her and snuggling as close as he can without phasing into her. He has to focus to keep his form solid enough for her arm to rest on.

He closes his eyes and replicates breathing, concentrating on being present, and trying to remember old sensations. How would this moment feel, if he still had his body?

A cold chill runs down his core and he tries to focus on the memory of body contact sharing warmth.

While Crystal has one of the best nights of sleep she's had in weeks, Charles struggles to remember how it felt to be alive.

[mammomlette]

People don’t talk about MC needing to wear a magical ring to not accidentally yk cause NATURAL DISASTERS with their powers??? Not only accidentally but without realising???

Diavolo or smthn is asking too much of MC or being a bit too annoying and their other hand slowly drifts towards the ring and they hold onto it while maintaining dead eye contact. Like continue to piss me off hoe I’ll blink and blow a hole in your castle idk

Obv they never do it (or do they?) but the threat is there and it’s a risk dia (or whoever but I’m using dia) can’t take

[workingforitallthetime]

I am BEGGING you to say more about Will and Mack in silence on the other side!! on my KNEES!

conveniently, i have 3.5K of will/mack that i could not resist expelling from my brain at the end of the google doc. grab a marshmallow stick and let me tell you a campfire story.

(this is very much an epilogue and is not going to make sense unless you've read silence on the other side. if you want the reward of mack/will you have to suffer through the mortifying ordeal of will/gabe/leno.)

Will could wait for Gabe to ask, but she’s done letting things happen to her. She packs a suitcase. She sits on the couch and waits. When she hears the sound of Gabe’s key in the door, she slips off her ring and clenches her fingers around it. The diamond digs into her palm as she rehearses the words in her head. I can’t get married. I’m sorry.

She texts her sister on the way to the airport, after the angry red dent fades. The pale strip around her ring finger is going to take longer, just like the mark on her neck. Can I stay with you for a couple of days?

Of course. Grace answers quick. Are you in Boston? Is everything ok?

Will’s not going to cry in the back of an Uber. Flight gets in at 10:30. And no. 

As the plane pulls away from the gate, she texts Ryan. I’m moving back to Boston. She should switch into airplane mode. Instead, she waits as they taxi.

The reply comes as the plane rounds the turn onto the runway, bright rows of lights blazing the path ahead. Didn’t know you were from Boston.

Will’s swiping her thumb over the text thread to delete it when one last message pops up. Thought it was West Philadelphia. She snorts in spite of herself, and lowers her thumb onto the red trash can before she can second-guess it. She’s not going to cry on a plane, either.

The night air when she emerges from the sliding doors at arrivals is still late-summer muggy. Grace picks her up at the airport, and Will gives her the briefest version. I told Gabe we’re not getting married. No, it wasn’t a mutual decision. No, I don’t know what it’s going to cost. No, I haven’t told mom and dad yet, I’ll do it tomorrow. No, don’t say anything in the bridesmaid group chat, I’ll do it tomorrow. 

The wheels of her suitcase are gritty on the floor of Grace’s apartment. She changes into pajama pants and an old St. Catherine’s t-shirt. She drinks a glass of water and racks the glass in Grace’s dishwasher. She sinks onto the couch, tipping her head back on top of the cushions.

“Oh my god.” Grace stops short at the edge of the room, peering at Will over the armload of bedding she’s bearing. “Did you break up with Gabe because he’s a vampire?”

Will touches the mark on her neck. It doesn’t feel like anything. If she hadn’t seen it in the mirror, she wouldn’t know it was there. “Wasn’t Gabe.”

Grace’s eyes bug out. I don’t want to talk about it, Will says, it’s not a thing. It’s not, like, the reason. It’s just something that happened. She takes the sheets from Grace and shakes them out and tucks herself into the couch. The streetlights outside cast thin stripes through the blinds and across the floor. She’s not going to cry into Grace’s fleece Patriots blanket.

The feeling in her stomach, hollow and sick, that settled in while she waited for Gabe to come home hasn’t gone away. It won’t go away for many days yet. Terrible days. Days of overhearing her mother on the phone apologizing to relatives about their nonrefundable flights. Days of trying to cancel wedding registries before she gets any more notifications about purchased gifts. Days of ignoring the voice messages from her parish priest, the one who was supposed to officiate. The absolute last person Will wants to talk to is a priest.

She goes back to the Midwest, feeling like a burglar in her own apartment as she packs up her things while Gabe is pointedly not home, driving her car along ugly interstates back to Massachusetts with her dad. Somewhere in Pennsylvania, while the road is empty in the beam of their headlights and they’re between episodes of a podcast about white collar crime, he tells her he’s proud of her. He knows it must have been a difficult decision. He trusts her to make the right choices. All Will can say past the lump in her throat is thank you. The tears trickle down the sides of her face in the dark.

She stays at her parents’ house. She writes thank-you notes that are mostly apologies. She goes to brunch with the friends who were supposed to be her bridesmaids, tells them it just didn’t feel right, I knew I’d regret it. None of them mention the cost of the bachelorette weekend last spring, but Will knows they’re all thinking it. When her mom asks, Will tells her she can pick up the dress if she wants. Will doesn’t want to see it. Every time she drives past the country club, the sick feeling in her stomach twists into a hard knot of shame.

On the September Saturday when Will was supposed to get married, Grace makes her go for a hike in New Hampshire. Golden leaves drift over the top of the low stone wall along the trail. At the top of the mountain, granite hills and colorful trees spread out below them. The lake in the valley sparkles in the autumn sunshine. They eat burgers at a roadside diner afterwards and drive back into Massachusetts after dusk, and then the day is over. It’s over, it’s done, it’s finally behind her, and now everything else is ahead.

She starts commuting into the office again. When coworkers ask, she tells them the Midwest didn’t work out. The engagement didn’t work out. After that, there aren’t any conversations about how unreliable she was last summer. She stays on top of her inbox, meets her deadlines early. Never misses a meeting. 

Boston’s not the same. Her old places are all Gabe’s old places too. Her friends are all Gabe’s friends. Most of them aren’t reaching out. Even the ones who are on her side seem confused by her. They don’t understand, because Will can’t imagine telling anyone the real story.

She thinks about going out. Thinks about getting on the apps. Trying to figure out… whatever it is she has to figure out. She can’t manage to pull the trigger. Someone could see her, recognize her.

Losing Boston, or at least the version of Boston she used to love, feels like another breakup. A separate grief just as painful as her grief for Gabe and everything their life was supposed to be. But Will ends it just as unflinchingly as she did her engagement. She finds a new job, something in finance or business or law in New York City, because that’s the place you’re supposed to go to start over.

The details of the job aren’t important. All that’s important is that it’s a job where beauty and breeding and ruthlessness are assets, and Will’s able to leverage all three to the hilt. Oh, and also it’s in an established industry where Rick Celebrini is a known and feared figure.

Will makes the connection pretty quickly when she’s introduced to her coworker Macklin. Mack is a half-step ahead of her at all times and it would be infuriating for Will, if she didn’t like him so much. Or if he didn’t like her so much. Everyone tells them they’re such a great team, hitting all their metrics, seizing opportunities, climbing the ladder together. Will sees in Mack a kind of internal steeliness that matches her own, which isn’t that surprising from someone who was raised by Rick.

Will’s kept cautious by the pervasive sense that she would fuck up anything she started with Mack. That’s what she does. She ruins things. She ruined everything with Gabe, and she’ll ruin anything she starts with another guy. And she really can’t afford to ruin anything with Rick Celebrini’s son. She’s found her niche in this industry, and getting on the wrong side of Rick would mean starting over, again.

So Will remains just as impervious as she can be. Even as she and Mack get closer and closer, and everyone in the firm starts to talk about them as a dynamic duo, and their rising stars are more and more closely linked together, she keeps everything strictly professional. Sometimes her eyes follow the lines of Mack’s three-piece suits not just to appreciate the tailoring, and as soon as she catches herself she looks the other way.

(She’s scared. Scared that nothing’s ever going to feel like it did with Ryan. Scared that nobody else is ever going to love her as much as Gabe did. She’s scared she doesn’t understand what she wants and that she’ll never figure it out. She’s scared there’s something fundamentally wrong with her and that’s why she hurts people. She’s scared that how much she likes Mack means she’s going to hurt him too. She’s scared and nobody knows it, least of all Will.)

Mack’s fascinated by her, and all the more fascinated because of the total blank of her personal life. When he tries to draw her out, he learns about growing up in Lexington, prep school and field hockey, going to BC. They talk about Boston, joke about their BC/BU rivalry, threaten to bet on the Beanpot. Will goes to office happy hours, is clever and engaging at client dinners. But she dodges all questions about what her life is like outside of work. Mack doesn’t know anything about her friends, doesn’t know whether she’s dating anybody, doesn’t even know whether she’s straight.

But Mack knows the connection’s there, and he’s going to keep trying. Picture those gifs from the 49ers game: Mack’s trying to get Will’s attention, and Will’s ignoring him, and Mack doesn’t even care. He’s willing to work for it. He wants to work for it. That’s how Rick raised him: how hard you work is the measure of how much you care.

One day Will rounds the corner by the elevators and walks into a knot of coworkers talking about some smart maneuver Mack pulled, something he talked over with Will in advance so she immediately recognizes a reference to a client or a contract term. “No dick, but he’s got plenty of balls,” says someone with their back to Will, and everyone who saw her come around the corner gets an awkward expression on their faces.

Will gives them the same look of icy disdain she uses to shut down people who call her Mack’s work wife. Someone says loudly that they’ve got a conference call starting in a few and the group hurriedly dissolves, except one office gossip who caught Will’s momentary confusion and has been simply dying for an excuse to have a conversation with her on this topic. She follows Will into the elevator. “Didn’t you know he’s trans?” she says as soon as he doors close. “It’s all very hush-hush, nobody ever says anything because Rick’s bitten a few heads off about it. I was there at an off-site when he literally yelled at someone about pronouns.”

(Just imagine Rick Celebrini when his kid announces he’s a boy. Okay, says Rick, not in so many words, if you’re a boy you’d better be the most boy you can be. What are you doing today to be a better boy? Mack’s grown up with Rick micromanaging his medical care and tailoring his punishing workouts to achieve some not entirely defined standard of masculinity and generally making Mack feel like he’s not working hard enough if he’s not at all times trying to be The Most Boy. Rick does not react kindly to anyone who suggests that Mack is anything other than his son… including and especially Mack, who is immediately reminded that he is All Boy, Only Boy if there’s ever any suggestion he might stray from Rick’s expectations of masculinity. Mack knows better than to say yes when the menswear stores he frequents suggest a pink shirt or a floral tie to go with one of those three-piece suits.)

Not that Will knows any of that. She dials the iciness a few degrees colder and hums the most neutral hmmm in her vocabulary until her coworker blessedly exits the elevator, disappointed by Will’s unsatisfying reaction.

Will lets the doors close. She punches the button for a different floor without looking at the display, aiming generally for something a long way away.

It’s just a surprise, that’s all. That’s why her heart’s racing, the unexpectedness of it. A confounding variable in the already tangled mess of Will trying to sort out her own identity. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything on the long list of reasons why she needs to keep Mack firmly in valued colleague/work best friend territory.

It’s a chink in the wall, though. And a wall that’s already being subjected to Mack’s considerable efforts, as well as geologic forces beyond Will’s control, is going to crumble eventually.

It happens at the holiday party. Some swanky venue rented out for the night, marble pillars, parquet floors. Raw seafood on ice, top-shelf drinks. Towering centerpieces with pine boughs and crystals. Will, in her classy little black dress, doesn’t have a date, of course. Neither does Mack, in his black suit with some requisite element of lowkey corporate festive. A red plaid vest, a tie with tiny holly berries on it, something like that.

They circulate through cocktail hour like the pros they are, catching glimpses of each other through the crowd, always aware of where the other one is. Somebody’s seated them at the same table for dinner (Mack might have had something to do with this) and after a couple of glasses of champagne Will forgets that she ought to be making holiday-appropriate small talk with everyone else at the table and she starts doing what she actually wants to do, which is talk to Mack. Mack, with his blue eyes and soft hair and strong fingers tapping the base of his rocks glass, making Will feel like she’s at her witty, charming best. Basically, everyone else is Tyler Toffoli on the plane and Will and Mack are in their own little world.

They sneak sideways glances at each other during the speeches and toasts, silent acknowledgement of corporate inside jokes. Will doesn’t look at Mack when Rick’s got the spotlight, but she can feel him sitting up straighter next to her, a little bit of extra rigidity in his spine.

After dessert the table groups start to dissolve and word starts to spread among Mack and Will’s coworkers, the younger crowd, about where the afterparty’s headed. Mack catches Will at the edge of a conversation and says something low into her ear, just for her. Want to go someplace else?

Will does.

Mack takes her someplace loud and anonymous, with more drinks and a crowded dance floor. Will doesn’t shrug off Mack’s hand at the small of her back. They dance, closer and closer together, and Will’s eyes are shining, and when Mack finally kisses her Will kisses back like she’s drowning. 

I’m calling a car, Mack says, and Will doesn’t let go, too much adrenaline and champagne and desperation to think about whether this is theoretically a bad idea. It’s been so long since somebody she cares about has touched her. Mack’s apartment is quiet and tasteful and Will barely sees it. She doesn’t want Mack to be something that happens to her. If this is happening, she’s going to make it happen just as much as Mack is.

If I was going to write a sex scene here it would be about how the expectations of masculinity that Rick has imposed on Mack have taken root in Mack’s assumptions about how he ought to have sex, and how that does or doesn’t align with what Mack actually wants, and how all of that collides with what Will wants, which is to eat that boy’s pussy.

Will falls asleep with her head on Mack’s chest and wakes up with the enormity of it all setting in. This is big, this is huge, and nothing that happened last night alleviated the underlying fear that she’s going to fuck it all up.

Mack can practically feel the tension radiating across the sheets at him. He reaches for Will. “I don’t want this to be a one-off.”

This does not have the desired effect of Will relaxing into him. Heart sinking, Mack tries again. “It can be if you want, though.” The pinch in Will’s brows doesn’t go away. Mack scoots back so he’s not touching her. “Just so you know, that’s really not what I want.” In the absence of a response, Mack starts desperation-yapping. “I know there’s something here, and I think you do to, and last night felt…”

Will’s eyes are huge across the gap between their pillows. She has to say something. “I’m a bad bet,” is what comes out. “I break everything.”

“Are you saying that because you want me to walk away?” Mack’s hoping that’s a quick answer, but Will looks like she’s actually thinking about it, so he keeps talking. “Do you want me to walk away?”

Very quietly, against the pillow, Will admits it. No.

Mack exhales. “Like, I’m not gonna. It’ll have to be you.”

He grins, like this is a joke, and it infuriates Will because he doesn’t understand. It’s not funny. Will’s warning him that he’s going to get hurt and he’s laughing. “That’s what I’m worried about,” Will hisses through her gritted teeth.

“That you’ll break up with me?” Mack, incredulous. “I can take it. That’s not a reason not to, like, try.” He reaches for Will again and Will lets him. “I could change my mind and dump your ass too.”

Will gives him a scornful look at the suggestion that anyone could ever break up with her, and Mack cracks up because it’s such an extremely Will reaction. “Let’s just be good, okay?” Will lets herself be pulled into his arms. “Until you break up with me, and I’ll deal with it. We can be good for now, right?”

Will whispers it against his lips before she kisses him. So good.

Eventually they get up. Will picks through Mack’s collection of sweats and ends up in a Canucks hoodie and Lulu joggers because she refuses to wear anything that has BU on it. They get coffee, and while they’re drinking it at opposite ends of Mack’s couch with their feet tangled together in the middle, Mack says I think you should tell me more about what you said earlier. About breaking everything.

Will’s silent, turning the sleeve of her coffee around and around the cup. There’s no way to avoid it. Mack’s going to have to find out sometime, if they’re going to do this. And Will really, increasingly every second, wants them to do this. “I was engaged,” she says, watching Mack. She can practically see his mouth forming questions, but he waits. “Like two years… three years ago now. My college boyfriend. Gabe. We were together for seven years. We moved to [Midwest city].”

“You lived in [Midwest city]?” Macklin’s laughing. “I can’t even picture it.”

“I know, right?” Will briefly experiences the warm glow of being known before she gets back to business. “It didn’t work. I cheated on him.” Will takes a deep breath. “Like, a lot. Her name was Ryan.”

She watches for Mack’s reaction to the pronoun, but he just nods. When Will doesn’t say anything else, Mack asks, “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know.” Will used to think about googling, but there’s no place to start. Ryan. The dive bar. The city. That’s all she knows. “It wasn’t… like that.”

“What happened to Gabe?”

“I ended it.” Will doesn’t have to google Gabe. He pops up in suggested posts, in her friends’ tags. He has a new girlfriend. They got a puppy. “It was, like, not very long before the wedding,” she adds, just so Mack knows how awful she is. “It really, really sucked.” Will puts all of the anguish of that brutal September into each really.

Mack forms his next question carefully. “Did you break up with him because he was a guy, or because he wasn’t the right guy?” 

“I don’t know.” Will lifts her chin defiantly. It’s the most vulnerable thing she’s ever said. Here’s my fucked up situation. Here’s what you’re getting into. 

“What’s that mean for me?” Mack does not relate to identity crises, having had his own identity rigorously reinforced since adolescence (or so he thinks). “Being… the guy that I am.”

“Oh, are you trans? I hadn’t noticed,” Will says, like she didn’t have her tongue in his pussy ten hours earlier.

Mack laughs, and that’s enough vulnerability for two people who don’t like it and are going to have to figure that part out later. “We should have dinner next weekend, if you don’t break up with me before then.”

If I was not inherently resistant to established relationship fic, there would be a lot to explore here. Chiefly, I’m intrigued by what happens when Rick’s singleminded focus on Mack’s masculinity (and the not-necessarily-positive ways that Mack has internalized that), collide with Will’s attraction to Mack, which is not premised on masculinity. Will’s got to figure her own shit out somewhere along the way, but she’s at least pretty sure that 100 percent masculinity is not on her list of priorities in a partner. I think that Rick is immediately welcoming to Will, to a degree that’s almost curious, and Will and Mack slowly realize that in Rick’s eyes Mack’s earned some kind of manhood badge by bringing home a hot girlfriend. Also, as ever, there’s a plot to be made out of Rick treating Will like another Celebrini child who warrants Rick’s micromanaging, and Will figuring out how to resist that without alienating Rick, and along the way prompting some realizations for Mack about the ways in which his Sheriff Rick upbringing was maybe a little bit fucked up.

Anyway. Here’s how the story would end. Mack makes it a running joke about Will breaking up with him. What do you want to do for Valentines’ Day, if you don’t break up with me before then? At first it’s jarring, and then it’s a comfort, a little reassurance that Mack still likes her enough that he’s willing to risk it all going wrong. Yeah, I could do Thanksgiving in Lexington if you’re not going to break up with me… Do you want to come to Whistler with us this year, if you haven’t dumped me by then?... I’m going to book our flight for R.J.’s graduation weekend unless you want to break up first. And then, over time, it starts to become jarring again. We should move in together when your lease is up if you’re not going to break up with me.

“Stop saying that,” Will finally says. “I’m not going to.”

“You’re not going to break up with me?” Mack’s about to fist-pump over his long game paying off. “Like ever?”

“Like ever,” Will confirms, and Mack can’t get down on one knee fast enough.

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

ryan's adventures in bookbinding

i feel confident to share my creations now that i have been bookbinding for several months, so here's one of my recent books that im very proud of

fic: let the world have its way with you by @shitouttabuck

inside artwork: by @bucksketch (and used only with their permission)

cover design: created by me

this fic is most beloved to me. roadtrip fics are a particular weakness of mine and nina wrote a phenomenal, moving, sweet, funny, sexy buddie roadtrip and i can hardly ever stop thinking about it. they write both buck and eddie so spectacularly well and examine their traumas and healing so beautifully and i just love this fic with everything in me

[4lph4kidz]

i was thinking about your dirk and hal poll and i want to mention that i think your concept for ink and iron where dirk creates hal from his reflection by enchanting a mirror is so cool 😌

thank you! hal's predicament and purpose within the canon narrative is so fascinating and i felt it was really important to find a way to explore what i find most interesting with him. i can't take full credit for the concept though i took inspiration from a few placees (one of my friends pitched the idea of the mirror accidentally dumping him onto jake's doorstop for example) but overall i think the idea is very fun and i'm really excited to write more hal stuff!!! also i'm going to take the opportunity to share this oldish doodle i found:

the mispelling of angel as angle was NOT intentional (<- dyslexia haver) but it probably explains a lot. he's pointy

[teecupangel]

Hi teecup_angel! I want to tell you that I totally love your blog and all the love you put into Desmond! I just joined the fandom and I've spent days browsing your tags because I completely fell in love with Assasin's Creed and all its protagonists, but especially Desmond!! I was thinking of an idea and I'd like you to give me your opinion <3 ok, so this time Desmond would be in the USG Ishimura (Dead Space), maybe the world evolved and Desmond was born long after people conquered space travel, so in this world the brotherhood of assassins would be fighting against the templars and their idea of ​​making everyone "one", that is, in this universe the templars would be the Dead Space Unitologists, and the fragments of Eden would become the Effigies. The Isu might be the creators of the Effigies , perhaps seeking to preserve their minds beyond their lifespan or share their knowledge with the universe, but Juno corrupted the inventions and it ended up in what happens in the video game. I don't know, I actually just thought that the bleeding effect and the schizophrenic illusions that the Effigies causes before the convergence are very relatable haha, and I just want to see Desmond kill necromorphs in an armored suit. I can't think of a way to bring his ancestors there though, maybe you can think of something? thanks for sharing your blog with us! it's become one of my favorites.

Aaawww, thank you!

Oh god, Imma be honest, I had an idea of a Dead Space inspired fic like… two years ago? Three? Around the time I was writing Zero Eclipse XD

It’s my most favorite scifi horror game. Anyway, the idea is that the Animus is able to operate because it uses an Isu artifact similar to the Marker that it can access one’s genetics and that is what’s being used to access genetic memory.

The Bleeding Effect is actually a side effect of the Animus using the Marker.

Of course, that idea was more on the side of a modern day AC fic with Dead Space-esque scifi horror element XD

And this one we’ll set in USG Ishimura and, full disclosure, I haven’t played the remake but I have been watching Roanoke Gaming’s scientific explanations for the remake’s necromorph so this is gonna be a blend of what he talked about and what I could remember from the OG game.

… of course with a twist because we’re making Dead Space’s plot the future of Assassin’s Creed.

So for this one, Abstergo has gone beyond the stars and started developing space related products. One of which are planet cracker class ships.

Hell, let’s go even further and say that they pioneered and lobbied for planet cracking, both for profit and because the materials they find in those planets they destroy have a higher chance of recreating Isu artifacts to its full potential.

Some even show promise of having applications that could potentially exceed what the Pieces of Eden are even capable of.

Because of this, Abstergo… no. The Templar Order expanded their circle of influence to other areas, including public trading company like CEC.

The Order has been too focus on the stars that they ignore the growing Church of Unitology and even ignoring most of what’s happening back on Earth.

The Brotherhood, on the other hand, have been keeping an eye on this church because there is something strange going on there and they actually believe the Templars have some deep connection with the church. (they don't in a sense that both Order and Brotherhood have been infiltrated by Unitologists but they don't know about it)

Not to mention, with the Templars’ hold on earth weakening because of their focus on space, the Brotherhood had been steadily growing in power, maintaining distant alliances with powerful people while keeping an eye on them at the same time.

The Templars’ greed to become more powerful than the Isus themselves is what sets up the tragedy of USG Ishimura.

Learning of the existence of the Marker in USG Ishimura led the Unitologists to set their own plan into motion.

Ishimura includes a lab where they grew clones that are kept in case a worker needs compatible organ transfer or limb… ‘recovery’.

In this place, a Unitologist clones a preserved DNA. This Unitologist used to be part of the Templar Order. As far as the Templars are concerned, he was still part of the Order. His task was simple.

Use the facilities to quickly develop the clone until it’s an adult and keep it in stasis until the time is right.

This clone is based on the preserved DNA of Subject 17, Desmond Miles.

.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond wakes up once USG Ishimura the day the Marker ‘enters’ the Ishimura. Things are weird are shit because, Desmond’s last memories are about him dying to save the world in 2012, but everyone seems to know him as a member of USG Ishimura.

Things get even weirder when Desmond starts to ask questions about what his job was or who he was and no one can give him a concrete answer. When he try to press them, people just start to grow agitated.

Things become even weirder when a medical officer starts freaking out because he remembers Desmond but then he doesn’t and then…

The ‘disappearances’ begin.

Desmond has his hands full though because his Bleeding Effect has started to become… much more vivid. He swears he had felt them touch him, grazing the back of his hand with theirs, tapping his shoulder… He swears he can feel their warm breath as they whisper to him to…

“Bring us back”

It is unsure what the Unitologists want with Desmond but there are a few medical officers who requests him for daily check ups. Desmond is sus of them the most and that gives him the idea that it's his genes that's important.

Once he learns about how he was ‘born’, he starts to understand that his Bleeds want him to grow more of him. Bodies they can ‘inhabit’.

Whether this is true OR this is the Marker fucking Desmond up, pretending to be the Bleeds but actually using his emotional attachment to them to make Desmond do something for it is a question that Desmond didn’t even know he should ask.

Because by that point, the Ishimura was becoming swarmed by necromorphs

(Whether this turns into Desmond trying to survive the Ishimura or Isaac finding Desmond later on is up to you. If Isaac will be part of the story, either he’d find Desmond already under the thrall of the Marker and trying to make bodies for his supposed Bleeds or Desmond is placed under stasis or something similar and Isaac awakens him)

It would be fun if Hammond is actually an Assassin sent to check what the fuck is happening in Ishimura and he actually knows who Desmond Miles is. If you’re feeling ambitious, instead of Hammond, Kendra is the secret Assassin XD

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

I was thinking to myself recently how wild it would be if this fandom was big enough to do a kinktober. Alas...

[honeycreammilkshake]

there will be cake.

i finally finished my first fic, and it's greenflame! it takes place between possession and skybound. i spent a few days on it and i'm still not satisfied... it still feels a bit ooc and amateur to me, but please let me know what you think. here it is...

Sitting down for dinner with the other ninja, Kai had no intention of talking about anything serious, let alone marriage, and especially not how he should go about proposing to Lloyd. But picking at his bowl of chili, he looked around to his friends, watching them talk about their day with animated expressions and exaggerated hand gestures, observing Cole and Jay arguing about every detail of their training so they could trade insults while blushing whenever anyone (mostly Zane) pointed out just how closely they'd have to be watching each other to know such minor things about their routines. And when Kai glanced over to his sister she was already glancing his way with an exasperated smirk at Cole and Jay's antics.

The only absent one was Lloyd. The Green Ninja was training late, as usual, pushing himself to his limits. The perfectionism was at first a little annoying for Kai, who tended to take any show of exertion as a competition against him, but overtime he'd learned to accommodate his boyfriend, who was typically late to dinner or outings with the rest of them. The pressure Lloyd must have felt, every single day, to not only lead the rest of them but to also make his pretty much godly ancestors proud of him had been grinding on him even more as of late, and Kai didn't want to add to their young leader's troubles. Still though… after their last battle, almost losing Lloyd to possession had made him keenly aware of how fragile the normalcy of all their lives were.

At any time, they could find themselves under attack once more. Ninajo had a reputation for attracting the most dark-hearted, vengeant, and power-hungry of villains, and Kai had to wonder if there was some kind of sign posted out for all the tyrants coming to seize this particular place. Something massive and neon was advertising how siegable and conquerable this entire land was somewhere, he was sure.

But as a ninja, bound and entangled with all the rest of his team (a fate he would never want reversed or changed in any way), he knew he would lay down his life for any one of his friends if it ever came down to it. And, naturally, he knew in his heart that no matter how much he teased or gave Lloyd trouble, he would stand behind that completely unhinged god-in-training no matter what. Wherever Lloyd led him, he would follow. And it was because of this that he knew he had to make their relationship even more official, even more sacred, so that when villains like Morro or Chen or the rest came knocking again, Kai would know there was still a chance at a normal life, even a small part of it, in their own lives. That he could say that Lloyd was his in more way than one and come back home to that small piece of stability.

Now, watching his friends continue to taunt and push each other, a warm feeling suddenly overtook Kai, not unlike the sensation he got whenever he drank a nice cup of Wu's tea. He felt it blossom inside of him, a hot and protective surge that came whenever he thought of the others, especially Lloyd. He knew he could trust them completely, he could ask anything of them and they wouldn't treat him any differently for it.

So it was without any filter that he found himself asking, "Guys, if I were to hypothetically propose to someone… someone who's very uhm… career-driven and practically all-powerful, how would I go about asking them to do something absolutely ordinary like marriage?"

A small silence briefly overtook the table as the others, except for Cole who was still digging into his plate without interest in anything else, glanced around towards each other. Nya, on Kai's left side, was completely still all of a sudden and opposite him Zane and Jay exchanged looks.

Just as the stillness was starting to become unnerving, Zane, always practical, broke in, "Logically the best way would be to—"

"Oh my gosh, you guys," Jay all but shrieked. "Kai and Lloyd are going to get married!"

"Wait what????" Kai burst out, feeling his cheeks start to heat up. "I didn't say anything about—"

"Oh please," Jay scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're the fire ninja, Kai, so whatever you're trying to cover up, you still burn holes right through it." He was picking at his bowl of chili delicately, like most of its contents offended him, and by the way he had complained about every other dish Cole had prepared for them, you would think it was genuine. But Kai knew the Blue Ninja would sneak lots of extra helpings of Cole's meals whenever he thought they weren't looking. And seeing as how most of Cole's food was… to put it plainly… bad, Kai knew it was because Jay was simply (and not so secretly) completely crazy for the Earth Master.

"You guys thought it was such a secret, but we could all tell what you were up to," Jay continued, matter of fact, then smirked. "The walls here are really thin, you know."

Kai groaned and buried his face in hands. "Okay," he sighed out. "So what if it is Lloyd?"

"I knew it!" Zane exclaimed from Cole's side, face lighting up. When the others looked to him, he explained, "Pixal told me they have a 95% compatibility rate. Lloyd's sensitivity and high emotional intelligence counterbalances Kai's hotheadedness and temper—"

"Yeah yeah we get it," Kai huffed, feeling called out.

"My vitals monitors indicate that your heart-rate speeds up whenever Lloyd appears," Zane added helpfully. "My data also suggests that Lloyd's libido increases whenever he watches you training."

Beside him, Nya made a choking sound. "Oh my god," she gasped, wiping away dribbles of water from her lips. "Please never say libido again, Zane."

Despite the embarrassment at having his secret relationship exposed so quickly, Kai couldn't help the way that information stroked his ego. All the time that little brat had been claiming to watch so closely to point out errors in Kai's form (as he always did) he was secretly checking Kai out shamelessly. It made him flush with more than a little contentment, but he got a hold of himself quickly, and managed to grit out, "Okay guys, that's enough."

"Where would they even get married though?" Jay pushed on, ignoring Kai entirely.

"Somewhere big enough for all of us," Zane pointed out. "I can compile a list of popular wedding locations and analyze them for suitability."

"No no," Jay dismissed, whipping his spoon around passionately so that a bit of chili hit Kai in the face. He wiped it off with a grimace as Jay continued to lecture Zane. "It should be somewhere perfect for the both of them..." Jay bit down on the handle of his spoon and then grinned widely at Kai. "I know just the place—my parent's junkyard!"

Kai blinked, caught off-guard. "Jay, I'm not marrying Lloyd in a junkyard—"

Across the table, Cole's face finally unfused from his plate long enough for him to shout, "Will there be cake? I'll definitely come if there's cake!"

"Always thinking with your stomach, right Cole?" Jay snarked. But the Earth Master chose to ignore him, much to Jay's disappointment.

As the others continued to conspire Lloyd and Kai's wedding, loudly describing each lavish detail — "Lloyd should wear all red so Kai can wear all green... and there should be dragons!!!" Jay contributed while Zane added, "Kai should put Lloyd in his lap and ride in on one to the ceremony" and Cole piped in, "And there should be triple stacked cake afterwards!" — Kai's ears picked up shuffled movement in the hallway. He sat up straight. Wu and Misako were out getting "vital" supplies like flavored tea and herbal medicines — old people errands — and they weren't expecting anyone else to come calling. It could only be Lloyd.

Getting that sensation he got whenever he was about to be cornered, he felt himself start to panic. "Guys, if you don't shut up now, I swear I'll send every single one of you to the Cursed Realm," Kai hissed out. "I don't even care if we're on the same team — you will all be banished for your crimes. This conversation is over."

But, of course, cause everything and everyone hated Kai, this was the exact conversation Lloyd chose just that moment to walk in on.

With a short glance around to the other ninja, he came into the room and a crushing silence followed as they all tracked him with their eyes. He walked casually, carrying a bowl laden with an excessive amount of Cole's chili (which wasn't that bad but it also wasn't that good either, so Kai felt Lloyd had filled it to the brim subconsciously) and settled down in his usual spot to the right of Kai, slowly lifting his spoon to his lips…. Lips that were twisted up in an unmistakable smirk, the one Kai knew and adored so well, that he loved to bite on — but right now, seeing the way it melted away the usual prim and proper princely beauty of Lloyd's face into the wild rawness of the conceded brat he really was, all Kai could think was Lloyd knows…. He's been listening in on the whole thing!

"What's all this about cake?" Lloyd asked, oh so innocently, as if he didn't know already, and Kai kind of wanted to manhandle him right then and there for being such an unyielding brat.

But before Kai could say or do anything to grab at any sort of control over the conversation, Jay leaned in closer to Lloyd, conspiratorially settling his chin into his cupped hand like he was about to tell the world's greatest secret. With a hauntingly straight face he said, "Only that Kai can't keep his eyes off yours."

… And then everything kind of blew up in Kai's face.

Nya and Zane burst out laughing and Cole let out a bellowing huff before slapping Jay across the back so hard the Blue Ninja's face almost landed in his uneaten bowl of chili (Kai wished with his whole heart that it really had). Jay glared briefly at Cole but then the Master of Earth said, "I guess that's why they call you the Master of Shocks! That was a good one, Jay."

Pure pride swelled the Master of Shocks' chest, making him look just like a puffed up little blue jay — which he technically was… though Kai could barely register the humor of it as sticky hot embarrassment exploded inside of him.

"Oh wow you guys," Nya finally managed to gasp as she held her sides, like she could fall apart from the delicious humiliation of it all. She wiped at her eyes, choking out, "Look at Lloyd's cheeks — they look like cherries!"

Lloyd's mouth was pressed together tightly, and his cheeks were definitely a deep scarlet that Kai took some satisfaction in seeing, but he knew his own cheeks were probably just as red and burning twice as hot.

And of course Jay would point that out. "Guys, check out Kai's face — he's burning up!"

"Oh the irony," Nya giggled.

"Red ninja indeed!" Zane chimed in with a grin that practically spilled off his face. And in that moment, Kai had never been more certain in his life that he was surrounded by traitors. Enemies.

Kai ground his teeth together and finally managed to squeeze out some sort of response. "You're all banished."

The other ninja, minus a cherry-colored Lloyd, started laughing again as Kai sat there, gripping the edge of the table and plotting revenge. Only Cole made any kind of move towards redemption, leaning closer to both Lloyd and Kai to say, "You know we're just teasing you two… We're really happy to see you making things more official. And just so you know, I would love to be there for you, even if there no's cake for me."

"You do know the whole point is so that Kai gets to keep the cake just for himself, don't you?" Jay smirked.

Before Kai could set fire to either himself or Jay, Cole turned to the Blue Ninja and smiled. "Don't worry, sparky, I'll make sure to claim a cake for myself too," he said, and proceeded to reach over so he could grope Jay's ass as the smaller ninja let out a high-pitched squeak.

"Who's the Master of Shock now?" Zane grinned as Jay started choking.

Nya pursed her lips and said, "Really? Right in front of my chili?"

Kai moaned and buried his face in his hands as the entire table descended into chaos. But it died out quickly as Lloyd stood up, his face unreadable, that silken smirk of his erased from his lips. As Kai peeked up at him, he couldn't help but feel… reverent. Lloyd was strong, and fierce, and brave. And more than that… he was the magnet that kept them gravitating to him, to their destiny. Their fates were inexplicably tied to his for the rest of their lives. They all shared a bond deeper than mere friends: they were each other's counterparts and focal points and homes.

And nobody was more at home with Lloyd than Kai.

"Kai," Lloyd began, and Kai felt the air rush out him as soon as Lloyd turned those ember-bright eyes right on his face. "Do… do you really want to marry me?"

Kai's heart was pounding far too fast. It felt like the adrenaline spark right before a battle. "Of course," he managed.

The other ninja were finally fully silent, their eyes wide and watchful. Feeling bold, Kai pushed away from the table and stood right in front of his boyfriend. Then he sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving Lloyd's, and swallowed. "You know that all of us are bound to you, and all of us would protect you with our lives, just as you would do for us. But the bond I share with you runs even deeper. I promised you that I would protect you, and that I would follow where you lead me, that you could always rely on me, so I would like to ask you now… Will you let me follow you forever? Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon, will you marry me?"

In all that time, Lloyd and Kai didn't look away from each other. The others remained blissfully quiet, but there was a current of anticipation coursing through the room.

It felt like an age before Lloyd cleared his throat and said, "Of course I will.... Someone has to keep my cake away from Cole, after all."

Kai groaned but found himself grinning anyways. "You're insufferable," he told Lloyd and pushed up from the floor.

"That only means you're even more perfect a match," Nya pointed out from Kai's side, but she hugged her brother tightly, patting him on the back. They both knew how much this meant to him...

Lloyd and Kai returned to their places at the table and tried to resume eating normally, but they kept glancing over to each other until Jay scoffed and said, "You two, honestly, go get a room."

"Quiet, sparky, you'll get yours soon," Cole winked and Jay started to protest.

"If you think I have any interest at all in a dusty piece of rock like you—"

"Yeah yeah," Cole waved him off. "Keep pretending, bluey."

Lloyd laughed and reached over to offer his hand for Kai to hold. Kai took it gently, and didn't miss the way everyone stared at their joined hands, their fingers twining together.

"No matter what comes in the future, we'll face it together," Lloyd promised Kai, and they felt each other's pulses jump at his words.

Kai nodded, soaking up the way the light hit the pale gold of Lloyd's hair, making it look just like a glowing halo. This boy would be the death of him, he just knew it. He couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. He raised a spoonful of chili towards Zane, Cole, and Jay and gave his best unhinged grin. "The future looks bright for you and me both, but right now I say we take these three down for being so obnoxious," he suggested and Lloyd grinned too, wild and full of fire, just like Kai.

"What?" Zane sputtered. "I didn't do anything!"

"Wait!" Jay cried out. "But we helped you propose to him, Kai!"

Lloyd snorted while Kai rolled his eyes. "Sure you did," the Master of Fire said, then launched the first spoonful at Jay's surprised face.

"Food fight!!!" Nya cried, pounding her fist on the table before she upended her entire plate on Kai's head.

Kai gasped, shaking sticky shrimp out of his hair. Reaching up, he felt the clingy, pasty sauce of the dish matting his once-immaculate spikes, and he shrieked, "GET HER, LLOYD!"

With a roar, the table fell into chaos again. As the ninja threw handfuls of food at each other — except for Cole who sat there lamenting the waste of it all — Lloyd and Kai looked at each other and smiled. Everything that they had ever done, all that they had ever faced and clawed their way through, had been worth it for moments just like this. With a laugh, Kai leaned in and kissed Lloyd in front of everyone, not even caring to keep anything concealed anymore.

He didn't even care when Nya shouted, "Gross!" and splashed the rest of her water on them. With a smirk, he pulled Lloyd closer and set a palm to the boy's back to dry out his clothes.

"You know," Zane said afterwards, as everyone settled down. "Someone has to clean all this up before Master Wu returns."

"Not me!" Jay was the first shout.

"We will," Lloyd said calmly, volunteering an unwilling Kai before he could protest. "We started this after all."

"They had it coming," Kai argued but stopped when Lloyd cast him a sharp look.

"You said you'd follow wherever I lead," Lloyd reminded Kai, then smirked his signature smirk when Kai let out yet another groan.

"Alright then," Kai sighed. "Lead me to the dishes."

"Get used to this," Jay said smugly. "This is going to be married life for you from now on."

Cole stood up from his seat and brought the rest of his plate down, shrimp-first, on Jay's head. "And this is going to be married life with me," he promised the Master of Lightning and walked away smiling.

"Welcome to the family," Nya said to Lloyd before standing up from the table.

"Can't be crazier than my family," Lloyd called after her, then turned to Lloyd. "Well, let's get cleaning."

Kai sighed melodramatically but didn't complain. He had promised to follow Lloyd wherever he lead him, even if it was just to another mess to clean up. So he smiled as he knelt down to pick up pieces of dinner from the floor with Lloyd. He wouldn't have traded it for anything else.

[utopiastri]

2024 AO3 Wrapped!!!

thank you to my darlings @nyoomfruits and @cx-boxbox for the tag - i love you both!!! 💕

(i’m including my secret santa fic in here bc i am SO proud of her, even if she’s not technically posted yet)

—

Works published: 5 (+ 1 secret santa fic)

Kudos: 3,084

Comment threads: 202

Bookmarks: 1,289

Word count: 50,591

Hits: 20,908

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Top three kudosed fics:

🏆: you’re always on my team

🥈: you must like me for me

🥉: tell me ‘bout the first time you saw me

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Top word count:

🏆: you’re always on my team

🥈: secret santa fic!!!

🥉: you must like me for me

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Top ships:

🏆: landoscar

🥈: galex

(lmao my aim for 2025 is maybe to branch out. just a little bit!!! enough to have written three ships lmao)

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Top three tags:

🏆: Alternate Universe and Idiots in Love

🥉: Mutual Pining

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no-pressure tagging @ipleadbritney, @jusst-you-race and @1425fivefive !!!!

[lovesickeros]

☆ love; heretical and divine

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 0.8k

To love a God is heretical. It is an act of blasphemy– it is to drag them down from their throne of hollow gold, to topple the pedestal the worshipers uphold on their shoulders like lambs at the herders heel. It is the act of forcing them to their knees and ripping that beating heart of glorious gold and beautiful, cruel divinity from their chest, so pure it burns.

To love a God is to make them sin. To make them painfully, horribly human.

To love a God is to sin.

The love of a worshiper is no love at all, brilliant in its raw purity, untainted by sin. It is fear and obedience masked by adoration so overpowering it corrupts. It makes the lamb so unquestioning in it's faith it will never question the knife that cuts, the teeth that rip, the claws that tear. If the Creator deemed them unworthy of the very life crafted by their hands, then they must have committed a sin so grave there lay no salvation for their horrid soul.

But she is no worshiper– her lips speak of heresy as easily as she breathes, her words nothing but lies, cold and cruel like the ice that crawls along her skin like webs.

She loves a God like a lover should.

A damned sinner reaching longingly for the heavens.

She loves a God in the subtle brush of their lips, their muffled voices behind closed doors as they indulge in curiosity untamed. She is a sinner through and through, but she feels herself fall further with every brush of her hand across their cheeks, every touch she bestows upon them like a lover. She memorizes the imperfections of their body like memorizing a map– every scar, every mark, every line drawn on their body like a canvas, her touch the brush that stains the pristine white.

No devoted lamb shall ever see the painting they create in these stolen moments– it is for the eyes of a heretic so vile it makes them shudder, their body dirtied by the love of a woman so vile even their divinity is obscured by the ice.

The lambs may be satisfied with fleeting glimpses of gold and empty words from lips that guide them to the jaws of the wolves, but she is not. Her hands crave them like a starving hound, aching to touch that imperfect skin hidden by the veil of gold that obscures the painfully human body beneath. She longs to free them from the golden cage that binds them��� to see their wings blot out the sky, their divinity tainted by sin and making them all the more beautiful for it.

It is a longing that leaves a festering wound that cannot heal, will not heal. Even if it could, she would not let it.

For as much as she tries, deny it as she may, she is no better then the blind lambs following the herder who holds a blade in their hand, glittering like gold in the sun, stained by dull red.

She is a fool, and what a fool they make of her with the touch of their hands against her skin– so cold it leaves frost on their fingertips. Yet they do not fear the cold, mapping out every inch of her imperfections, carved into her body by her own hands.

She has always been a heretic, cursing the divine until she could speak no more, but if divinity can be found in them – in this love that consumes, that burns her hands and her lips – then she is a Saint, praying at the altar until her throat bled.

But in the end, she has and will always be a cold woman with hands stained with blood. Until it is all she can taste, until it is all she can smell, until it is all she can feel. These hands of hers, heretical and divine, will bleed the God from their veins– she will become the wolf to their lamb until the rivers of Teyvat run gold with their ichor, until the gold bleeds into red, the taste of their divinity on her tongue.

Until she drags a God from their lofty throne and makes of them a monster.

There is no greater triumph to the heretic then to love a God into sin. To make a God sin to love.

To love is to be human, and they are no God.

Even if she must tear the gold from their very being until all that's left is something human. Even if Teyvat crumbles and decays, even if it begins over and over again..

She will do it again and again, until the gold can bleed no longer. Until her sins grow too great for Teyvat to contain.

To love a God is to devour, and be devoured. An endless cycle of sin that dulls the glow of gold into something new– something horrifying and divine, in it's own right. Something just as horrid as her, just as divinely corrupted by the sins she carries on her shoulders like a trophy, as gold as the sun and as cold as ice.

Divinity, carved into something human by love all consuming, until it all bleeds away and they begin their dance anew, for as many cycles as it takes.

An eternity, if she must, of dooming this world of theirs to fire and decay for a glimpse of the being snared by their golden shackles.

[dejwrld]

jjk fics (outside of my mutuals) has lost its flavor.

[inbox-to-the-void]

Fresh's Theme: YOO I'LL TELL U WUT I WANT SO TELL ME WH Swap: FML

art source comes from here, fic made by @gaylordscooter

[IMAGE ID: A digital drawing of Swap Sans, visibly tense and hiding behind a broken wall. The wall is an almost-grey blue, the background is a slightly bluer and darker grey, Blue's background color is blue, and Swap's outlines are a paler version of his background. Behind the wall are rainbow all-capitilized words that switch color each line break. The words read "YOO I'LL TELL U WUT I WANT SO TELL ME WH", the words a reference to the beginning lyrics in Wannabe by Spice Girls. The rainbow words are cut off by the bottom of the broken wall. Swap's thought bubble background is his outline colour, while his speech bubble font color is colored in his background color. His thought bubble just reads "FML" in all caps. END ID]

[stellewriites]

thanks for the tags @dwarvenagenda & @pricegouge !! 💓

it was fun to check my stats for this year :3

funny to compare how i started my year vs how its ending (fandoms im writing for, fic length range, themes and tropes i’m preferring, etc).

i’ve found that although ive maybe written less and had less interaction in general from readers this year i’ve truly found some amazing people that i consider good friends on here now :’) and i wouldn’t swap that for anything!!

blank copy below and npt: @pricetagged @ohlawdthebirds @sentientcave @syoddeye @gloard @wraithdance @buttdumplin @luvrodite @mikichko @lewistoferrari @disgustingtwitches