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beels-burger-babe · 3 years ago

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I Burn For You

***So THIS has been stuck in my head all day and I just- I love it. I love it so much. And it reminded me...So you guys all know how I hate/love Lucifer...it gave me those vibes. So........... Well I haven't written anything actually relevant to The Facade of the Suitor or anything else that I've been procrastinating, I have been able to push out this little short inspired by this beauty of a duet that is EVERYTHING to me. -B***

Summary: Since MC's arrival, Lucifer and them have never fully gotten along. There was always a large, unknown and undiscussed tension between them and they were fine to keep it that way. But when MC's security in the Devildom is threatened by both the angels and the nobility of the Devildom itself, everything changes. As a ruse to persuade the celestial realm, MC and Lucifer wed. After the ceremony, they finally talk about the unacknowledged feelings burning inside of both of them.

MC x Lucifer

The air hung heavy and thick like the gold bands that now decorated both of your fingers.

You and Lucifer stood on opposite sides of the room, your backs facing one another with nothing but silence between you.

You couldn't help but reminisce on how you got here, on your supposed 'honeymoon' married to none other but the prideful, arrogant, avatar of sin, Lucifer Morningstar himself.

Diavolo had burst into the House of Lamentation an entire month ago. He desperately explained how the angels had received word about you through the fond, innocent-intending, stories of Luke and we're demanding that you be 'released' from your 'imprisonment in the infernal Devildom and that they wished to cleanse you of the 'hellish corruption' the demons had 'forced upon you' through your pacts. Wanting to avoid yet another Celestial War, even on a small scale, the noble court had wanted to agree and simply hand you over to them, cut your pacts, and banish you from returning as an act of agreement and co-operation with the angels.

Obviously, this didn't sit well with you or any of the brothers.

You had all tried to come up with a number of plans, but they all promised retaliation from the angels.

Eventually, it was Lucifer himself who begrudgingly came up with the final plan. The angels wouldn't believe you if you simply told them that you liked it here and wanted to stay. They'd think you were charmed or manipulated. However, if the two of you worked together, and pretended to be in a relationship, convince the angels of your 'genuine' feelings and prove to them that you were in love, and finalize this by marrying Lucifer, it just might work.

First of all, love was something that had sparked war in the past, that both sides had learned from and had grown to deeply treasure and value. Secondly, Micheal, head Archangel of the Celestial Realm, trusted Lucifer the most of all the brothers. The two of you could take advantage of that use it to convince him that you were actually safer in the Devildom by Lucifer's side. And finally, if you were willingly bound by marriage, there was very little that the Celestial Realm could do to force you to leave.

The plan wasn't terrible, but there was one thing about it that caused you to clench your fists and grind your teeth: it was with Lucifer.

Lucifer who constantly teased you and pushed your buttons in a way that he knew would cause you to either give in to him or snap.

Lucifer who was cruel and sadistic and did nothing unless there was some personal gain or it was under the demand of his precious Diavolo.

Lucifer who never ever put anything before his own stupid pride.

Though you were normally a calm and positive person, there was just something about Lucifer that had always caused an inferno of anger and rebellion to burn within you. You felt this strong need to constantly prove him wrong and to defy him.

As a result, the two of you consistently butted heads, arguing about Lucifer's treatment of his brothers and your recklessness on an almost weekly basis.

The idea of being chained to this...this demon for the rest of your mortal life caused your stomach to twist tightly into knots. Though, if it ensured you'd be able to stay with the rest of your found family? You'd make the necessary sacrifice.

So the two of you did the whole show. You went on dates, smiled and laughed together as though you were the lead roles in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and played every card in the book to convince the angels that you were safe and happy under the kind watch of your lover.

Those weeks had started off painful, as you pushed back all feelings of disdain for the eldest brother to play the role of the perfect partner. But as time passed, you hadn't noticed that it had become easier and easier to stay by his side. The smiles you gave him were no longer forced, but sincere ones that brought joy. The lines between what was real and what was fake began to blur.

You sealed the deal with your wedding only a few hours ago.

The vows Lucifer had spoken...promising to watch and protect you even as your skin wrinkled and your hair grew grey. To hold your hand and aid you when you no longer had the strength. To shower you in love and devotion even in your final hours.

They had been spoken with such passion and raw emotion that you didn't dare think too deeply about. It had caused your breath to catch in your throat, and you had to remind yourself that this was all an act. Soon the curtain would close, and Lucifer would return to the cold-hearted monster that you knew.

Yet even now, hours after the ceremony had finished, you couldn't get that intense gaze, and the sparks that exploded under your fingertips as his hands gently squeezed yours, out of your head.

Lucifer sighed from the other side of the room and glanced over at you. "Are we just going to continue ignoring each other?"

You scoffed and turned your head further away; ignoring the loud pounding of your heart and instead focusing on the flickers of frustration licking up your gut. "What else are we supposed to do? There's no one else around. The act is over."

You whirled around at his sarcasm and could practically feel the wrath blazing behind your eyes. "Sorry, my Lord, if I'm not exactly giddy about the fact that I just signed myself to the likes of you just for the approval of some fluffy winged assholes!"

You could practically hear Lucifer roll his eyes as he walked over to the liquor cart and poured himself a drink. "Right. So you just plan to spend the entirety of the weekend that Micheal paid for us brooding in a corner? How mature of you."

Lucifer, the fucker, had the gull to act unphased and casually swirled his drink in his hand. "It could be much, much worse," he took a sip of the amber liquid before staring down in his glass. "It's not as though you didn't agree to this."

"Only because I didn't want to be kicked out of the Devildom and never allowed to see your brothers again!" You growled. Your anger only grew as you noticed him clench his fingers tighter around the glass. You groaned and ran a hand through your hair. "This was a stupid plan! You probably just invented this entire ruse as yet another way to get under my skin. Well congratulations, Lucifer. You win!"

You refused to look at him, as you turned your heated gaze out the window.

You didn't see the flash of hurt that washed over his expression, nor hear the way his breath caught in his throat. "Is being married to me truly that awful? Are you honestly telling me that you haven't enjoyed even a single second of this past month?"

You tensed and crossed your arms over your chest, as you continued to avoid looking at him. "What kind of question is that? You're a demon who cares about nothing but himself," you pursed your lips and mentally tried to deny just how wrong those words felt on your tongue.

"I wouldn't say that's true. Believe it or not, I do care for my brothers." There was a shaky breath, one so uncharacteristic for the confident Morningstar, before he continued. "And you. I did promise to love you until your final breath after all, and I do not break my promises."

There was silence once again. Though this quiet seemed to crackle with the anticipation for something, though neither of you quite knew what.

You closed your eyes, refusing to acknowledge the flutter in your heart at his words. "Those vows were only part of the act. They weren't real."

"Perhaps not for you," your eyes snapped open at the response. You looked back at the demon. Lucifer stood leaning against the wall, drink still in hand, as he stared intensely at the floor. "This may have all been an act for you, MC, but it stopped being a ruse for me mere hours after we began."

You felt yourself frown as you stared at him. Your traitor heart dared to grow warm with hope, only adding fuel to the growing frustration inside you. "You're lying. You're just trying to get me worked up again."

"Actually, I'm not," his eyes met yours and it felt as though time froze. His expression was so unguarded, so honest. For once, you looked into his eyes and you could see every emotion that he wore openly before you. You could see the hurt, the certainty, and most of all the same passionate love that shone so brightly in them throughout the ceremony. "From the moment I met you, you caused a fire to ignite in my heart. I was determined to control you and to make you be the human representative for Diavolo. But then, you acted against me, and that changed. I still wanted to make sure that you fulfilling your purpose in the exchange program, but I took on the challenge of finally having you respect and listen to me. You were stubborn and fierce, yet so beautifully driven and I admired that." your eyes widened at the admission. "It wasn't until I was forced to look at you in a romantic light for this scheme that I understood the true nature of these feelings. It wasn't that I wanted to control you, or break you, or shape you into what I needed. It was so much deeper, so much more dangerous than that. I wanted to have you fall in love for me, as I had fallen for you, and make you mine."

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I know you don't feel the same. I've accepted that. But I...I'm done with acting like this isn't real for me. I refuse to pretend that there's nothing there between us any longer."

He finally broke eye contact, looking back at his now empty glass as you practically gaped at him. Love. Lucifer...loved you? You gulped and took a step towards him, "Lucifer..."

The fire burning within you consumed you as your face heated up. "You...You love me? You actually love me?"

You flinched as he glared sharply at you. "Don't rub it in."

You didn't know what to make of that. You weren't sure what to make of any of this. Your feelings towards Lucifer had changed over the past month, but you had assumed that was simply part of the act. But if everything he had done and said as you two were pretending to be a couple was real, then what did that mean for you?

What did that mean for the way the sight of him caused your heart to skip? Or the way his rare smiles never failed to make you smile back? Or the unwavering sense of comfort and security that he provided?

What did that mean for the ruthless, scalding fire that he had always caused to rage inside you? You always assumed it was anger, but what if...

You gasped in realization. "I burn for you."

The demon tensed as he blinked in confusion. "You...I'm sorry, you what?"

You moved closer to him, each step more certain than the last, as you shakily spoke the words that rang through you. "I burn for you, Lucifer. I don't know entirely what it means myself, but ever since we met you've caused this irrational passion and drive to sear inside of me. I-I had always assumed it was hatred. You're so infuriating. Every word you speak does nothing but cause that fire to flare brighter within in. Every action leaves me filled with sparks of restless energy that won't be satiated until I combust at you," as you now stood nearly toe to toe with him, you grabbed his hand and placed it over your roaring heart. Hope flickered like a candle in the darkness of his black eyes. "I had thought that this couldn't be anything other than anger and hatred. I refused to believe even the possibility that it could be anything else. But this past month you...you were honest and almost kind and vulnerable. Your teasing didn't make me want to punch you, but rather made me laugh. You showed me a side of you that I didn't even know existed. I...I think-"

You were cut off by a finger on your lips. Lucifer looked down at you with a stern, cold expression. The action paired with that face would've caused you to become infuriated by his audacity and superiority complex in the past. But now you could see past it, and could see it for what it truly was: a carefully crafted barrier that hid his most vulnerable feelings and protected him. "If you do not mean the words you were about to say, if you are pitying me, I must demand that you stop here. Do not say those words unless you truly mean them," his deep voice was tinged with distrust and caution.

You held his gaze as you kissed the pad of the finger against your lips and whispered gently, "Lucifer, I think that I love you."

Suddenly your lips were captured in his as he pulled you close and ever so adoringly cupped your face. For the first time since meeting him, the flames inside you were extinguished by the cold touch of his hands on your face and the surprising gentleness of his affection.

His hand slid from your face and came to rest on your shoulder as his eyes widened. His gaze scanned your expression for any traces of falsehood or insincerity. You could hear the breath leave his lungs as he found none.

He softly kissed his temple, effectively hiding his face as it grew redder and whispered, "Of course, beloved."

Lucifer laughed as he pulled away, his thumb caressing your cheek, as he smiled. "To think it only took us getting married to realize it," you laughed as you felt happy tears prick the corners of your eyes. Lucifer sighed in content as rested his forehead against yours. "Remind me to send a thank you to, Micheal."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Forget Micheal. He's still an asshole as far as I'm concerned. Instead, focus on me. On us. I want to learn everything about you, about the real you," you smiled as he looked down at you with flushed cheeks. "My husband, Lucifer Morningstar."

You couldn't help but wonder how you had been so oblivious to your true feelings as a shiver ran down your spine and warmth spread throughout your chest simultaneously.

This honest and pure love between the two of you, was new, yet it felt so familiar, and it was abundantly clear to both of you that the depth of those feelings would only become clearer and clearer in time as the fires of your love only grew.

***Gasp. I actually finished something. Would you look at that. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this little fic! Thank you so much for your support during my hiatus and for being so understanding. I love you guys! Thanks again for reading!***

Taglist: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @lovelymushi @victoireshaven @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino

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shirophantomvox · 3 years ago

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Random date night with Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo

Hello, anon! Ask and you shall receive! This prompt is very interesting and I will try to keep it in character as much as possible. To sum this up, Hisoka would take you to an ice cream shop, a carnival, or apple orchard while Illumi would rather go to an art or historical museum. Chrollo would persuade you to attend a book reading/author signing or go hiking. Depending on who you are and what your ideal date is, I’m sure you’d find them all fun. Going to a carnival or apple orchard is my go-to since I’ve barely been because they’re all in the suburbs. These headcanons are explained much more than the others. That is why Chrollo and Illumi seem to be short, but they’re not. Also, I can’t wait for Halloween because these headcanons are going to be amazing. I am extremely sorry if there are grammar errors! Taking classes on Zoom is frustrating and now my brain has to relearn everything that I lost in 3 months! Before we get started, I have a few announcements.

This post is more laid back than my other headcanons because I tried to keep it as canon as possible.

I want to thank you all for 65 followers! It means a lot! I’m happy to see that a lot of you enjoy my writing and like it enough to follow me! I have a challenge for you! When I reach 100 followers, I will host some type of writing event here...but I need ideas. I’ve seen some pages do specials where you can send an ask and pretend like you're talking to a character and I respond with what they’d say. SEND ME IDEAS! I WILL CREDIT YOU!

I will be stepping back a little more than before. I’ll still be logged in and re-blogging but as far as writing posts like this...it may only be once or twice a week. You see, I’m in college and I’m struggling financially and I have to work on scholarships. If you all send me an ask, be patient.

Voltron posts will only be created based on asks. I will not be writing posts about VLD if no one requests them. I do not receive any feedback from it anymore and no one seems to like them.

Now, let’s get into the post.

Let's start with Illumi first.

Headcanon 1: Illumi has a secret admiration for different types of art but he specifically enjoys pop art and surrealism. He has commented on how surrealism makes his brain twist and his feelings swirl as he tries to figure out the piece and what inspires it.

He prefers not to participate in tours as he likes to digest the art at his own pace.

Headcanon 2: In his spare time, he paints on a canvas. His art style consists of both surrealism and abstract art. For a person with a dark personality, his compositions always contain bright colors and abstract techniques that leave you wondering about his TRUE personality. He is truly a good man with a bright personality but after being abused for so long, those behaviors/personalities have been shoved so far down his throat that they may not come back up.

He has a bad habit of asking you what you thought about every single piece of art you passed. The conversations were great but this is a date after all. The playful conversation slowly turns into a lecture about art. Although you loved your bf’s dictionary-like brain it also drained your energy.

One of his favorite artists is Vincent Van Gough. Although he favors surrealism, Van Gogh’s art style was mind-blowing to him. So amazed that he buys several Van Gogh t-shirts from the gift shop.

His favorite piece created by Van Gough is “Starry Night”.

He notices that you are becoming bored and decides that it is time for MORE excitement, one that you are certain to enjoy.

“Where are we going,” you ask, pretending to be interested.

“Down to the basement. We are going to have a bite to eat.”

Since Illumi rarely smiled, when he did smile it drove you wild. The anticipation of what his next move was going to be is what drove that wildness. Being a bounty hunter was thrilling already but dating a smart, badass assassin was totally out of your league but it worked out.

Headcanon 3: Illumi’s idea of being romantic is dramatically different from yours. He believes just spending time with you on the couch was enough. He is correct; but if you have the time and funds, your time together should be a little spontaneous. You insisted on dates outside of the house because his family will not stay out of your business.

“Illumi, I am too hungry for more trivia.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. So am I. That is why I’ve decided to take you to a wine and cheese party.”

Huh? Wine and Cheese at 3PM? That’s ok. When was there a time limit on when you can drink alcohol?

Illumi has indirectly attended parties as such when he was 15 years old. He never drank, but he watched as his mother’s friends (surprisingly) talked about business and their children. This time, you weren’t going to talk about business for once. Instead, you two were going to actually talk about what couples discuss.

Headcanon 4: When introduced to alcohol for the first time, Illumi immediately stated how he hated brown liquor. That includes Hennessy, Jack Daniels, etc. It makes him sick to his stomach. He prefers to drink Smirnoff mixed with fruity drinks like strawberry or pineapple.

He loves it when you make these drinks for him on a summer day.

Hence the title wine and cheese, you both go to a stand-up table, place your brochures down, and actually have a wonderful conversation not involving work or hunting.

Illumi smiled a few times, more than usual. Whenever he appears to be softer even around you, that is because he has mellowed out and doesn't have the overbearing weight of his family on his shoulders. You set him free.

Hisoka

According to a one-shot that another manga artist created, they expressed that Hisoka was found on the side of the road, was taken in by someone that worked at a local circus, and learned Nen in a matter of days. Hisoka’s clown look and having the skills of a magician proves that this has to be canon in some way.

Headcanon 1: Given this potential backstory, going to a carnival is his go-to every summer. He wants to take you to a circus but saves that for you as an engagement gift.

Everyone with a heart knows that whether or not you’re in a relationship or not the carnival is fun as hell! Expensive fried food, elephant ears, funnel cake, ICEE’s, rides, and stuffed animals are to die for!

Being at a carnival relaxes him so his bloodlust isn’t activated unless someone bumps into him and causes a scene.

Headcanon 2: PDA is something that Hisoka does well; he doesn’t overdo it but does it enough where people get the impression that you are a couple and aren’t “best friends”.

While completing a mission depending on how rough it may be, he insists that you tag along to see how he handles the situation. You’ve already seen his ruthlessness from Hunter’s exam but he insists.

His sense of pride gets the best of him sometimes. Sometimes his head is so big that it reminds you of a large birthday balloon.

Headcanon 3: ANYWAY, given his nature, he is very adventurous, dangerous, and courageous. If he wants to go on the Demon Drop, he’ll do it and you DO not have a choice in the matter. He’ll tease or guilt trip you into doing something that you would not like to do.

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to cling on to someone else, would you?”

“No. Of course not,” you reply.

“Let’s go then, scaredy-cat.”

As a hunter, you’ve seen worse. Why are you so afraid to go on a ride?

Headcanon 4: At apple orchards, cornfield mazes are one of his favorites. You cannot for the life of you figure out how to get out but he can. He grabs a scarecrow and scares you from behind. That annoys you but is nothing compared to later on that night.

Oh. My. God. It’s haunted house time!

“Hisoka, I’m not going in!”

“Why not? I’ll protect you.”

“Because they’re monsters and I already have to deal with one.”

It took him a second to catch on that you were talking about him.

“That’s going to bite you in the butt, kitten.”

Headcanon 5: Like Killua, Hisoka has a sweet tooth. Don’t allow his buff appearance to fool you!

He LOVES caramel apples, elephant ears, funnel cake, freshly squeezed lemonade, fudge, and cotton candy. How can this man manage to stay in shape? The world may never know.

Headcanon 6: He isn’t one to play by other people’s rules but he sets his own rules with your relationship that you both must obey. One of those rules says that neither of you can be on your phones while together.

Headcanon 7: Hisoka insists that you both wear either matching pants or matching shirts to avoid unnecessary flirtation.

He isn’t jealous but on “us time”, he doesn’t want to lose a single second.

Headcanon 8: Hisoka only jumps in when necessary. Given that you’ve passed the hunter’s exam and work as a bodyguard, he knows you can handle your business. If the person can’t take a hint, then he steps in. They almost back up immediately considering Hisoka is towering over them.

When the moon shines, you both go to the car and off to sleep in your comfy king-sized bed.

Chrollo

We all know that Chrollo loves to read! What does he specifically like to read? What Genre? Does he like to read alone or with other people?

Although Chrollo is a thief and must be hidden in the shadows, the authorities have called off the search for him for at least 3 years. Slowly but surely, he begins to find himself in the outside world again.

Chrollo once discussed a book with the Phantom Troupe when they were being transported to another place for a mission. He read “Tears of a Tiger” by Sharon M. Draper.

The reading sessions are opened with an affirmation and a reason to be thankful to be alive. He says he is thankful for the troupe, glances at you, and smiles. No one catches on to that sly face except for Phinks.

Headcanon 1: Chrollo is very silent and shy to an extent. He only associates with people he knows and trusts. You are the social butterfly at this moment.

Chrollo tags along behind you like a shy child, holding your hand while you stick out your free hand to greet everyone.

Today, the book club was going to read “Divergent”.

Headcanon 2: Although he loves to read, he hates it when others read out loud. Most people are drably read and it annoys him. After a while, he takes over. Chrollo was tense the first 30 minutes of the meeting because two cops were there but neither of them noticed it was him.

Headcanon 3: Chrollo often acts the part of the character that he is reading in the book. His tone, attitude, and emphasis on certain words keep the group engaged. He is complimented on his acting!

“Good Job, honey,” you whisper.

He responds by tightly squeezing your hand.

His tone was so impressive that the host insisted that he read for the entire night. He was ok with that because in between reads he was often distracted by a lovely pair of jeans and shoes you had on. You were into writing, so hearing others read and act out the characters helped.

Headcanon 4: In some settings, Chrollo is very braggadocious. He insisted that the group read one of your stories so you could be provided with feedback.

“We’d be delighted to view your story, y/n!”

“It will be fun!”

The book club wasn’t a stereotypical club that only consisted of soccer moms but instead consisted of men and women who were involved with a business, law enforcement, health, etc. This was an open space for everyone to relax and forget about their demanding jobs.

After the meeting, the group went to dinner at a nearby pizzeria. You all enjoyed large pizzas, beer, salads, and dessert. How could your stomach (or anyone’s stomach) hold that much?

Chrollo laughed so much that it made you question if he was your actual boyfriend or not. He even engaged in conversations with the two off-duty cops! For once, you helped Chrollo experience the greater things in life; true love, friendship, and happiness.

“Thank you,” he whispered and slyly placed a kiss on your hand. “For everything.”

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queer-and-dear-books · 2 years ago

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Title: Cafe Con Lychee

Author: Emery Lee

Genre: YA Fiction | Drama | Romance | Food | LGBTQ+

Content Warnings: Homophobia

Overall Rating: 8.3/10

Personal Opinion: A charming love story about good food and enemies turning to lovers, what more could you want? Theo Mori and Gabi Moreno are the sons of parents that own competing businesses. So naturally, they’re enemies. They hate each other’s guts. Or at least, Theo hates Gabi. In truth, Gabi has always admired Theo. Not just because Theo is living out and proud, something he can only wish he did. But how will admiration evolve into romance? You’ll just have to read to find out.

Couple Classification: Theo Mori X Gabi Moreno = Jock X Nerd

Do I Own This Book? Nope.

Spoilers Below For My Likes & Dislikes:

Likes:

- I am a sucker for two things in stories. Food and Gaysians. This has both those things. I mean, I have a few gripes with Theo but overall I enjoyed his passion. The food though. I’ve got a borderline addiction to boba and every time it was mentioned and how popular it was, I felt… validated. Maybe because I went to college in Vermont and I didn’t find any places that sold boba. Oh yeah, this book takes place in Vermont and it mentioned Lake Champlain so again, I felt seen. Basically, I’m saying that there was a lot in this book that I personally related to and that gives it bonus good points in my book.

- I think the thing that I had appreciated the most was that people took accountability for their actions. Meli apologized for being a lousy friend and Gabi did the same. Justin said sorry for pushing Theo away and Theo said sorry for making everything about him. Gabi also apologized to Justin for meddling with his love life, Theo’s parents apologized for making him feel like he was to blame for everything, Gabi’s parents apologized for… well, everything. It doesn’t really make up for shit and Gabi also acknowledges that Meli will probably make mistakes again but it’s a start. Unfortunately, I would have liked it if Meli had followed up her apology with a promise she could actually keep but again, it’s a start.

- I think there is nothing more romantic in this book than when Gabi was gushing about Theo. Theo fully believed that he’s a disappointment and he’s full of self-loathing. The fact that, even before he fell for him, Gabi saw these incredible traits in Theo (his athleticism, his intelligence, his work ethic) is just so charming. Also, admiration turning romantic is one of my favorite tropes.

- Theo’s parents being so giddy about the homecoming dance was so cute to me. Just Theo’s dad lending them his suit jackets and ties and his mom wanting to take a bunch of photos. That kind of shit is so cheesy but it’s good shit.

- The title is super clever to me. It’s good wordplay and fits with the themes of the book. Especially since so much of the food stuff in the story was about weird fusions. Now, that being said, coffee with lychee sounds disgusting. I mention this because apparently, it’s not just the title of the book and the name of the new cafe they’re opening (super cute), but it’s also an actual menu item that Theo and Gabi sold. I cannot imagine it being a best-seller because it truly does not sound like it tastes good. However, I hate coffee so maybe that’s just me.

- Thomas doing drag was a twist. I don’t know what he’s questioning when it comes to his identity but him doing drag was never something I had imagined. And I love it.

- I also love Theo’s mom standing up for herself against Greg because fuck Greg. Like Theo said, that was amazing.

Dislikes:

- Gabi’s parents are a mess. And Theo’s aren’t much better but they put in a lot of effort in the last few chapters. I bring this up because blood families treating their kids like shit never sit well with me. Sixteen years of being homophobic is… ugh. Gabi says himself that their apology doesn’t make up for all that, so like, I’m trying to look past it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I read so many stories with chosen families supporting one another unconditionally and this book just did not have that. Justin and Meli were both kind of lousy friends at times. I didn’t feel like they were actual best friends with either of the protagonists. So when the parents aren’t great and the friends aren’t great, I’m left at a loss for the relationships I like. Is the only one between Theo and Gabi? Because if so, that’s kind of lame.

- Theo is not the most likeable protagonist. He’s very negative and it is so draining. There’s not really anything wrong with a less than outgoing main character but Theo just made me feel tired. I think it was too much like looking in a mirror. Inferiority complex with his brother, self-loathing concerning his sexuality and his parents’ views on it, and overall just thinking you’re inadequate. It was depressing. Plus, there’s also all his unreasonable hatred toward Gabi in the beginning. It was so aggressive and I just felt bad for Gabi. At least he was able to admit to himself later that it was unreasonable. But it was still a lot.

- Uncle Greg is the real worst though. Glad he got put in his place in the end.

- I cringed way too hard at Gabi not wanting to share a drink with Justin and saying, “But I’m not gay.” I’m glad he apologized (and also came out) two chapters later but oh my god, I had to stop reading for a bit because I felt my soul exit my body. My guy, straight people can share a damn cup.

#Booklr #Booksbooksbooks #Book Blog #Book Review #Book Recs #Cafe Con Lychee #Emery Lee #LGBTQ #Queer Books #Queer Lit #Queer Representation #Asian Books #Asian Representation

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antiloreolympus · 3 years ago

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11 Anti LO Asks

1. honestly the fashion in LO was never great (the Korean readers saying Persephone looked like she was in a napkin was so right) but at least there was a few stand outs, usually Hera and Minthe, but S2 has been such a downgrade. It's all either frumpy 60s fashion or just?? boring minimalist sheets? and all the men are in the same boring suits as always. if she cant bother to make the characters or environment look good, cant they dress nice at least?

2. it honestly feels like hades is more of the MC at this point than persephone. we know so much about his past, his goals, his wants, his dreams, he has fleshed out relationships and is on an arch to get something (a wife/family), meanwhile persephone is just there. she has no friends, no family, we know nothing about her past beyond random flashbacks that get retconned anyway, and her world only revolves around him. it really feels like shes secondary in her own supposed story.

3. you know how the synopsis of LO is how "you see the gods as youve never seen them before" or w/e? yeah, youve never seen them like this before because rachel made them completely OOC from their actual mythology counterparts, butchered any sort of connection/basic foundations of mythology, and isnt following a single myth and is just making a convoluted fanfiction versus actually retelling the myths. literally none of the "myths" or characters match what we know. that's not good.

4. i was reading a review on the lo book and the reviewer posted a snippet of the dialogue (without visuals) and it just dawned on me how generic the writing actually is? and how personality less it is? like it was a part of artemis talking, yet you wouldnt be able to tell, it just sounded like a generic party girl over the goddess of the hunt. like truly, if it didnt have that unique style in the beginning to ride off of, i honestly doubt this writing would even pass an intro to writing class.

5. I've stopped going to WT theory pages because overwhelmingly every LO theory is either so obvious it's not a theory, or just obsessed about demeaning every other character (woo boy, they love saying Artemis will be the next twist villain because she's purple!) or saying Persephone HAS to give Hades kids "like in the myths" like?? That's so dehumanizing, Does Persephone have no worth or purpose outside of bearing him kids? Also, no, they didn't have kids in the myths. Sorry to say but it's true.

6. In regards to that one ask, I don't believe RS has said in particular in she's only writing the Trial week by week, but she did give in interview early in 2020 where she admitted she writes the next episode as soon as its published on Saturday, so it's not that she's only writing this plotline in a weekly fashion, it's that in general she writes everything in LO in a weekly fashion. That's why plot lines are dropped, new ones randomly pop up, and there's too many retcons to count.

7. The anon that said LO only concerns itself with aesthetics is so right. It does! It coasts off all the bright colors, fun events (like Hades and Persephone going shopping), shallow drama (like the various non-canon sexual and romantic relationships between the gods) and out-of-nowhere stakes (like Kronos waking up), which all sound very nice and interesting and attractive in theory, but in LO's story they're so random and disjointed... They're only there for the aesthetics of a good work!

8. Honestly looking on Barnes and Noble at the images included for how the pages look between Hooky and Lore Olympus. Even if I enjoyed Lore Olympus the book would have to look really amazing, but instead it looks like it was done relatively quickly with not enough care(again from the images they’re trying to sell it with, I have not seen a physical copy personally to judge)

On the other hand, while I hate the daily pass system, it was part of the reason I was looking into getting the Hooky graphic novel, along with the fact the preview pages look amazing. Hooky overall offers a much more interesting story and it suits the graphic novel form, while Lore Olympus just does not in its current state.

9. if the fans are perfectly willing to excuse persephone for mass murder, excuse hades and hera having a centuries long affair while acting holier tthou than zeus, hades' constant abuse of his citizens, employees, and literally owning slaves, then i think they could have handled persephone being like, 200 years old. RS claiming shes "subverting" the "powerful old man with a submissive young girl" trope is such a blatant lie its honestly maddening. its your kink, lady, lying about it doesn't help.

10. i hate how the stans claim rachel is "being so respectful" with the serious topics like SA and the age gap when she doesnt. she constantly sexualizes the fact persephone is so young and depicts her as acting even younger (why did she retcon their first meeting to where persephone was NAKED and possible underage?), and the SA is only there to push the couple along, with it not depicted well at all and even forgotten most of the time. If actual victims tell you it's badly depicted, LISTEN TO THEM.

11. Been looking through your blog and though I agree with most takes, I gotta tell you that as a designer it's actually quite important to ask the target audience for feedback on the product. User testing for a product is important. It isn't odd that she asked her fanbase what they'd like to see more in a story since the story IS a product. We do that in my field all the time. Now, can't say that she made the wisest decisions in her story, but the approach to the fandom to ask about their expectations is normal.

From OP: Ah ok! Thank you for telling me /pos

I found it weird because it wasn’t very specific but then again, that’d probably spoil the story lol

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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shootingstarwritings · 4 years ago

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FEStival Fiasco

Part 2

Part 1, Prologue

You’re Gonna Carry that Weight

Before the competition, the students were given time to research the cultures of the planet they would soon infiltrate. For Centaurus, what interested him the most was the cowboy. He had obsessively watched several spaghetti westerns and read many books detailing the rugged outlaws that prowled the western United States.

To Centaurus, the cowboy embodied freedom. He was a gallant legend that wandered the land, not caring about class or even order he dispensed justice wherever he went. He proudly carried himself with his smooth-talking ways and underhanded tricks that resonated so strongly with Centaurus. At least, that was the image that Centaurus had carved into his mind. I want to be like that. Not a worm, but a cowboy.

Now, staring a real-life cowboy at one of the food stalls in the early festival hours, he found himself unable to even utter a word.

“Uh, ya see somethin’ ya like?” The man said with a carefree grin. As soon as the cowboy spoke up, Centaurus jumped in his seat. He was still in Ken’s body, but the man’s memory and charisma completely failed. Even his own natural talent fizzled out.

“Um, yeah—no, wait, shit! Didn’t mean it like that,” said Centaurus, now pointedly looking away. He couldn't recall a time when he had gotten this flustered. What was happening to him? “Forget about it, all right?”

The stall owner arched an eyebrow at the two, but she didn’t say anything. She simply served their food with a polite nod.

Centaurus meant to walk away and crawl in a hole, but the cowboy stepped right in his way. Clad in a flannel shirt and a cowboy hat, he wore both his clothes and expression with unrivaled charisma. “Howdy,” he said, carefully enunciating the word.

“H-Hey...”

“C’mon! No need to be shy. Walk with me.” Seeing no reason to decline, Centaurus allowed himself to be guided around by this man straight out of his fantasies. “Name’s Austin,” he introduced himself. “Southern boy by birth and trade. You?”

“C-Cent,” was as far Centaurus said before clamming up again.

“Cent? Funny li’l name,” Austin said with a laugh. “Cute, tho. Like, rolls off the tongue real nice.” His tongue licked his lips just the slightest bit as he spoke. Centaurus nearly melted right then and there.

“So, what caught yer eye?” said Austin.

“Oh, uh, guess… how out there you are,” Centaurus said, mentally kicking himself as the conversation drew on. He had walked into this conversation flat-footed and tumbled in just about every exchange. His heart was racing, and his whole body burned with a desire he couldn't snuff out. “You’re eye-catching, is all I can say.”

Austin leaned in, grinning as he said, “Think I’m more than that to ya. Yer startin’ to pitch a tent, y’know,” with a wink. Centaurus grit his teeth, cursing under his breath as he looked down at himself. Austin continued, saying, “C’mon, let’s get ya somewhere more discreet ‘fore security kicks ya outta this place.”

Without waiting for a response, Austin took Centaurus’ hand and dragged him away from the festival. “Don’t worry, I ain’t roomin’ with any folks,” he said, head bopping back and forth as though he was humming a song to himself. “We’ll be private.”

“I-If you say so,” said Centaurus.

They arrived soon afterward. On occasion, Centaurus caught a few stares from the various guests that ate from the continental breakfast, but he didn’t worry about that. Now he was alone in the cowboy’s room. As he sat on the foot of the bed, he noticed that there was what he figured was the scent of the great southern frontier. Austin was here for merely a day, and already his scent had marked the room.

“It’s my candle,” said Austin, excitedly gesturing to a container with a candle decorated with a tiny, smiling cowboy inside. “Friend o’ mine gave it to me ‘fore I left. Said it’d keep the ranch in my heart,” he said. “Always a romantic, that girl, bless her heart. But still, always makes these sterile rooms feel a li’l bit more like home.” Home…

“How come you left?” said Centaurus.

“Yer a noisy one, ain’tcha?” Austin said, not dropping his smile. “Guess it felt like it was high time fer me to just...travel, y’know? Spent my whole life on the ranch. Felt like I had to break away ‘n’ find m’own path. Wanted to sorta find something. Myself, maybe. Headed to this town and chatted a friend up from my childhood. Planned on goin’ to the festival together, but he got hit hard with the flu. So I walked ‘round the place, lookin’ fer somethin’ to do.”

“And that’s when you picked me up?”

Austin chuckled. “Well, wouldn’t put it like that. ‘d rather call it sweepin’ ya off yer feet, my friend.”

“And you call your friend a romantic,” Centaurus said, tittering to himself. Uneasiness long forgotten, he continued to chat away and talk with Austin until the two of them fell back onto the bed together, slowly undressing. “I’ve never done this with a cowboy before, I gotta admit.”

“Well, I ain’t just a cowboy, Cent. I’m Austin.”

Yeah, Centaurus thought, you’re Austin. What lied before him was no longer a cowboy—a character he so fondly thought of. Instead, it was a man that found him, for whatever reason, charming. “Come here,” said Centaurus, lying down on top of Austin. He could hear his heart gently beating. You’re wonderful.

Centaurus, fully nude, spread his legs. Austin first started by teasing his hole with a finger, then his tongue. “Gonna do this right,” he said in-between his tongue teases. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Promise.” Centaurus just nodded, trembling with anticipation. His legs quivered with just the foreplay.

However, the teasing went on for far too long. His hole, initially tingling with pleasure, now felt played with and empty. “Oh, just fuck me already,” Centaurus moaned.

“Beg a li’l more,” Austin said.

“Please, Austin. Tear me in two already.”

“Nah, nah, that ain’t want I’m lookin’ fer.” Austin raised himself and lied on top of Centaurus’ chest with a smirk on his face. “Ask me for a lovin’. Something so sweet yer tight li’l ass will never forget.”

Swallowing, Centaurus said, “Make love to me, Austin. Make me forget about my fucking life,” and Austin complied.

Austin softly whispered, “Yer moans’re so hot,” and, “cry harder for me...” as he pounded Centaurus. “So cute, Cent,” he said before groaning in pleasure as well as he sped up.

Centaurus nearly fainted as he felt Austin fuck him. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, biting down on his knuckles. As soon as Austin said his name, he shut his eyes and allowed himself to indulge in that fantasy. There was no Ken, no competition, nothing except himself and this man who didn’t feel like a stranger anymore.

“God, fuck, yer so damn tight, Cent!” Austin cried out as he drew back and slammed into Centaurus with wild abandon. “Moan more fer me, c’mon!” he said, pumping Centaurus’ dick as he fucked him.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck fuck fuck! Sh-Shit, I’m cumming…!”

Austin took that opportunity to lean in and hungrily kiss Centaurus, who reciprocated. He drank in as much of Austin’s heavy pants and scent as he could. After so many times of hearing another name with a partner, it was nice to feel as though he didn’t have to pretend. He lied bare to this man who miraculously knew so little about him, and it was so liberating.

Centaurus’ midsection tightened, and then he came sticky ropes onto Austin’s chest. The two groaned into each other’s mouths as they came together.

“Maybe it’s just the high I got, but… I love yer company, Cent.”

In-between pants, Centaurus said, “I feel the same way, Austin,” and desperately wished he meant every word. He knew this had nothing to do with the mission or his desire to finally build his career, but he still wished this would last forever.

“What’s the matter, Cent? Yer lookin’ a bit down.”

“Not sure. I… I seriously don’t know.”

“Well, dunno if this makes ya feel any better but, I thought yer pretty nice company if I do say so myself,” said Austin with a small, charming smile.

However, Centaurus still thought about her. Zathina’s bitter and hateful expression remained in the back of his mind. He could still feel her shoe nearly crushing his windpipe. “You’re wasting time,” he imagined her saying with that sneer of hers. Alongside her sickening voice was the word worm over and over again like it was branded directly into his brain. “Indulging in these nonsensical things,” the voice continued, “you’re pathetic. Looks like the winner is clear. I suppose you truly are a worm after all.”

“Kiss me,” said Centaurus.

“Hmm?” Austin hummed, surprised at his sudden interruption.

Not waiting for an answer, Centaurus wrapped an arm around Austin’s neck and pulled him in for a long, deep kiss. “Mmm, mmm!” Austin didn’t initially fight back until he felt something slipping in through his mouth.

Centaurus disconnected himself from Ken’s brain, leaving behind some toxic behind, and quickly slithered into Austin’s open, vulnerable mouth. Eventually, Austin pushed an unconscious Ken off, but it was already too late. The alien was already making its way through his mouth and into his brain. Austin tried to grab at the alien, but he failed to get a grasp. He fell back onto the bed and began to convulse as pleasure and fear overrode his entire body.

Switching host was always a dizzying experience for Centaurus. Not only because looking at his host body disoriented him with the raping changing of faces, but because there remained a little bit of himself in them.

“Wake up,” Centaurus commanded Ken. Wordlessly, Ken sat up in the bed. “Go home to your partner. Don’t even look at me.” Ken nodded and began to leave. “Put your clothes on first! Animal...”

For all members of his kind, the toxic vanishes from the host after about 20 minutes. Ken would be back to normal with little recollection of what he did. The experience that Ken went through would be forgotten. Same with Austin when Centaurus eventually left. Even if by some twist of fate they crossed paths again, Centaurus would be the only one left with that moment in his memories.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and saw no trace of the man that he shared that tender moment with. No matter how much Centaurus tried to laugh, frown, or even cry, he could no longer see Austin anymore. All that the mirror reflected was a worm pretending to be a man. He was alone.

#male possession #alien possession #cowboy possession #DILF possession #possession #festival fiasco

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today-only-happens-once · 4 years ago

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and miles to go before I sleep

Title: and miles to go before I sleep

Word Count: 6,650

Chapter 1

Summary: Virgil came here to stop a curse and save his kingdom. But another Prince has the same goal in mind... and only one kingdom is supposed to come out on top. Slowburn Romantic Prinxiety. A Two Princes Podcast AU.

Chapter Warnings: stealing; lying; Patton is kind of working in a gray area but he means well and is only trying his best; Janus does some light treason I guess?; violence; giant hornet; plant monster; killing monsters/violence; blood mention/description; threats; if you are a die-hard fan of the podcast please be warned that I do take a few creative liberties with stuff from the podcast at times.

A/N: this idea has been knocking around my head for a while, and I finally started to write it. I thought I’d write it all before posting, but I’ve found that I’m starting to lose steam. So here’s the first part! If you like The Two Princes, I hope you’ll enjoy this Prinxiety twist to it! If you’ve never listened to it, I hope you’ll consider giving this a shot and then maybe going to check it out! <3 Editing done by yours truly. All mistakes are mine.

...

“Stop! Thief!”

Virgil takes a hard left turn down the Western Corridor of the castle, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush. He sprints down the stone hallway, racing past the familiar stained-glass windows. The book in his hand is heavy and leather-bound, and Virgil tucks it tighter under his arm as he runs. The hood of his dark cloak nearly slips off his head in the process, and he uses his free hand to keep it from falling.

“Halt!”

Ahead of him, three members of the Royal Guard appear from around the corner. Virgil skids to a stop, whirling around only to find two more guards running up behind him. He’s surrounded and cornered. Nowhere to go. Virgil huffs a breath, holding his hands up and kneeling on the floor in surrender. He lets the book thud to the ground. He’s grateful that the hood of his cloak swallows his head, and he keeps his head downcast to let it shadow his face from view even though he knows his anonymity is really only a matter of seconds.

There’s the scuff of boots against the stone floor approaching him, the clanking of armor as the guards move aside, and Virgil grimaces to himself. He has the sinking feeling it’s his older brother.

“Your Majesty,” one of the guards from behind him greets the newcomer, confirming Virgil’s suspicions. “We caught this person attempting to steal the Forbidden Book.”

Virgil keeps his face hidden in the hood of his cloak, but he sees his brother’s boots step into his vision. “What’s your name?” his brother asks with that familiar soft friendliness.

Virgil knows that he can’t hide much longer--someone is going to pull the hood off his head at any moment--but he really doesn’t want to deal with the look of disappointment in his older brother’s eyes that he knows awaits him. He’ll push it off as long as he can manage. So Virgil stays resolutely silent.

He feels a slight tug on the hood of his cloak and the silky material causes it to fall to his shoulder blades effortlessly.

“Virgil?”

Virgil looks up sheepishly. “Hey, Patton.”

His brother was twelve years older than him but only a couple of inches taller. His hair wasn’t much lighter than Virgil’s, and their eyes were the same shade of brown that their mother’s had been. But Patton had seemed every bit older than him. Virgil couldn’t explain why--if maybe it was the weight in his eyes that would show only when he thought nobody was looking or if maybe it was the way he’d mastered the ‘I’m not angry I’m just disappointed’ stare years ago--but there were times when Patton seemed even older than twenty-nine.

“What the heck were you doing?” Patton swoops down and snatches the book from where Virgil had placed it on the floor in front of him. Virgil tries not to grimace. His brother hands it off to one of the guards who immediately rushes to take it back to the vault.

Virgil sighs and accepts the hand that Patton extends to him to pull him up to his feet. Patton waves a hand and the guards only hesitate for a moment before they turn abruptly to head back to their post. Virgil waits until they’re alone in the corridor before he answers.

“Patton, come on. You know exactly what I was doing.”

Patton frowns, his brow pinching together. “Virgil,” he starts, and Virgil has to stop himself from rolling his eyes because he knows that tone, “I already told you that book is no good for anybody.”

“No, I know you keep saying that. But our kingdom is under siege, and--”

“Siege?” Patton repeats. “I think that’s a bit of an overstatement there, kiddo. I should start calling you just ‘Anxiety’ with as much as you worry.”

“How else would you describe the forest that is overrunning our kingdom and has been for years? It’s nearly at our palace walls.” Virgil gestures out the stained glass window. “You can’t go anywhere in town without having to step over and around roots and vines. It’s been choking our food supply, it’s overrun our farming villages… That’s not normal. And nobody in this godforsaken castle will talk to me about it.”

Virgil sees that flicker of something he can’t identify pass through Patton’s eyes. It was the same look he got any time Virgil tried to mention the Forest or the Curse. But it was always too fast for Virgil to be able to identify it.

“Have you ever thought that’s because there’s nothing to talk about?” Patton tries.

“When was the last time you looked outside, Patton? That Forest is going to destroy our kingdom,” Virgil snaps. “I know it’s the Curse and I know that book has answers. I just don’t know why you don’t want me to know them!”

Patton presses a hand to his temple. “Virgil, will you just drop it? Please?”

“All I’ve done is drop it. From what I’ve been able to piece together from books that you will let me read, two kings from rival kingdoms held a grudge against each other a thousand years ago, and that grudge started some kind of curse. But I need more if I’m going to do anything to fix this.”

“Nobody is asking you to fix it--”

“Somebody has to!”

“Virgil…” Patton looks at him then. He looks tired, Virgil thinks. And… afraid. “Please. I… you’re my baby brother. I’m just trying to look out for you, okay?”

Virgil wants to argue. He’s seventeen. He doesn’t need his older brother protecting him like he did when they were little kids. He sometimes wonders if Patton still sees him as that six-year-old kid that would run to his room when he had a bad dream. He wasn’t. But he doesn’t know how to get Patton to understand that. Besides, a part of him falters at the tinge of desperation that colors Patton’s words.

“Okay,” Virgil agrees with a sigh, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay. Fine.”

There’s a grateful twitch to the corner of Patton’s mouth. Then, his expression brightens with a sudden idea and Virgil has the feeling he’s not going to like it.

“Hey,” Patton says. “Your birthday is almost here. What do you say we throw an early birthday party for tomorrow?”

Virgil arcs an eyebrow. “My birthday isn’t for another four days.”

“I know, but I think we all could use a little something to boost the kingdom spirit, y’know?”

Virgil hesitates. “Patton, you can’t just use parties to distract yourself from problems.” It’s a conversation they’d had before, so he knows what Patton is going to say even before the words leave his brother’s mouth.

“I’m not, Virgil,” Patton replies, right on cue. “But I think focusing on something good and happy is better than wallowing in the negative. Right?”

“Right,” Virgil says hollowly.

…

Virgil hates parties. They’re crowded and loud and the repetition of forced, awkward small talk reminds Virgil of everything he doesn’t like about being a prince. Nobles and dignitaries mill around the ballroom, talking to one another without talking about anything that Virgil thinks ought to be discussed. He nods his appreciation and mutters a quick “thank you” as people wish him a happy birthday, and he tries to ignore the increasing desire to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Virgil snags a piece of bread off the snack table and clings to the edge of the growing crowd in the ballroom.

“You look like you’re having a positively terrific time, Your Highness,” a familiar voice says to Virgil’s left. When he looks, Virgil feels a twinge of relief at the familiar face of Lord Janus: his brother’s closest political adviser.

Virgil snorts. “Yeah, well. This was hardly my idea. You know how my brother is.”

“Hm,” Janus hums, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Indeed.” Virgil stifles a yawn. Janus arcs an eyebrow at him. “Tired, Your Highness?”

“Sorry,” Virgil replies. “Just… didn’t sleep well.”

He thinks about the dream he’d had last night. He’d been cold, in the dark, surrounded by looming shadows that looked almost like trees. There’d been a deep, echoing, vaguely familiar voice calling his name. Virgil. Then a tugging sensation around his waist so strong it yanked his feet out from under him, and the falling sensation had jolted him from his sleep. He’d woken up in his room, trying to catch his breath, the echo of his name still reverberating in his head.

“I see,” Janus replies, his gaze narrowing slightly.

Virgil avoids his eyes, instead letting his gaze flit over the crowd of people. Some of them he recognizes from various meetings and prior parties that Patton had thrown over the years. He watches as a tall man he recognizes as Sloane--a long time family friend--lean over to whisper something into the ear of Corbin, one of the royal scribes. Corbin suppresses a smile.

“Are they… together?” Virgil wonders aloud. He couldn’t describe it, but there was something about the way they seemed to gravitate near each other, even while Sloane turns to talk to someone else, that makes him wonder.

Janus follows his gaze. “Yes,” he confirms. “To my knowledge, there’s an expected engagement to occur soon.”

There’s a part of Virgil that’s surprised. He wouldn’t describe himself as particularly close with either one of them, but they seemed like near opposites. His gaze lingers a bit longer on the two of them, catching the way Corbin deftly slips his hand into Sloane’s and squeezes. Virgil tears his gaze away, feeling oddly like he’s intruding on something intimate even though they’re in the middle of the ballroom.

He finds Remy weaving through the crowd, seemingly at ease in the sea of people. Remy is another of his brother’s advisers, though he doesn’t work as closely with Patton as Janus does. Virgil knows that Remy’s area of expertise is primarily in trade and commerce. Most of that had stopped around a year ago, as the growing Forest cut off most trade routes into and out of the kingdom.

“How does he still have a job?” Virgil wonders aloud, watching as Remy laughs politely at a joke a dignitary that Virgil doesn’t recognize makes.

Janus hums. “Your brother ensured that Remy’s original conception as an economic adviser would not be limited to inter-kingdom trade. Exchanges occurring within the kingdom and city walls fall under his domain of expertise as well.”

“Won’t be long before he’s out of a job anyway,” Virgil mutters.

“There are few things that the king cares about more than the well-being of his kingdom.”

“And I’m one of those things.” Virgil looks at Janus, challenging him to disagree. Janus merely returns Virgil’s stare with a steady, silent one of his own. Virgil has known the adviser long enough to recognize it as silent agreement.

Virgil releases a frustrated breath. “I’m not a child anymore, Janus. He doesn’t need to protect me.”

“I assure you that Your Majesty doesn’t view it that way.”

“I don’t even know what he’s trying to protect me from,” Virgil continues. Realization dawns suddenly, and Virgil narrows a glare on Janus. “But you do, don’t you?”

It makes sense to Virgil. There is little that Janus doesn’t know--he’s often said it’s his business to know things as the chief political adviser--and though Virgil may not understand how Janus gathers his information, he has no doubt that Janus knows exactly whatever it is that Patton has been hiding from him. The suspicion is only confirmed when he sees Janus’s lips press into a thin line.

Virgil shakes his head. “Unbelievable. I don’t understand.”

Janus arcs an eyebrow. “I think Your Highness does.”

“No, no I don’t,” Virgil hisses back in a low, frustrated voice. “What is my brother hiding from me?”

Janus grimaces, his gaze flitting over to Patton across the ballroom. Patton doesn’t seem to notice, too engaged with a conversation with the Lady Valerie to pay them much mind. Janus sighs, then turns back to the prince.

“Your Highness--”

Janus cuts off as the floor beneath them rumbles. The dining ware on the table clatters loudly from the tremor, and the ballroom falls silent with uncertainty. Virgil braces a hand against the nearby wall to keep balance.

“Uh, what is that?” he asks, too late.

With the sound of shattering stone, sections of the marble floor splinter open. Virgil watches, horrified, as green vines rise from the fissures almost like tendrils of an awakening monster. Cracking wood snaps sharply in the hall as what Virgil can only describe as tree roots thicker than his own body push their way up through the cracks in the floor.

Screams and shouts of alarm fill the ballroom, ricocheting off the stone pillars. Virgil watches as a vine curls around the ankle of a dignitary, yanking her off her feet. One of the guards, sword already drawn, rushes forward. They slash at it, slicing through the vine and helping the young woman back to her feet.

“The Forest is invading!” the guard shouts. “Everyone take cover! Guards, attack!”

The clamor of battle swells, and Virgil presses flatter against the wall. His gaze sweeps over the crowd, trying to locate his brother. Virgil sees a tree root snake around Corbin’s torso with a speed that isn’t natural for a plant. Sloane shouts for him, but a vine snaps around his wrist and he yanks a knife out of his boot to cut himself free.

Virgil goes to move to help--he may not be athletic exactly, but he can’t just stand around and do nothing when people are in danger--but something yanks him back to the wall like he’s attached to it. He glances over his shoulder and sees the vine twisting in the jacket of his suit. Virgil desperately wrestles out of the garment, but another has already begun wrapping around his chest.

“Hey!” Virgil yelps, trying to wrestle it off him. He sees a sudden flash of metal in the corner of his eye and the vine around his chest goes suddenly slack. Virgil shoves it off, looking over and realizing it was Janus, wielding the sword that had been at his hip, who cut him free.

“Janus,” Virgil says. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Here, take this.” Janus pulls out a piece of paper from his breast pocket and shoves it into Virgil’s chest.

Virgil stumbles back a step from the force, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s this?”

“A map,” Janus answers, quick and urgent. “It will take you straight to the Hollow. You have to leave immediately.”

“What? What Hollow?”

“Here.” Janus shoves the hilt of his sword into Virgil’s hand. “Take my sword.”

“Wh--No! I can’t leave you all in the middle of a battle!”

“You have to!” Janus snaps, and Virgil falters under the intensity in the adviser’s eyes. “The real battle--the one that will decide the fate of everyone in this kingdom--can only be fought in the Hollow, and only by you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Janus grabs both of Virgil’s shoulders. “There’s a prophecy your brother has been hiding from you. You have to go to the Hollow. Once you get there--”

“Look out!” a voice barks.

Janus’s head snaps to the side before he gives Virgil a hard shove, sending the prince staggering back. A tree root slams into the wall, precisely where Virgil had just been standing.

“Janus!”

“Go!” Janus shouts sharply over the clamor of the raging battle around them. “Get to the Hollow!”

Virgil runs, not noticing the vegetation shrinking back into the cracks in the floor as he races towards the Forest.

…

Hours later, Virgil is beginning to think that the Forest must hate him personally. If it’s true, the feeling is very much mutual. The Forest is dense with trees that leave long, lurking shadows on the damp floor. Virgil climbs over a particularly large tree root, hissing in pain as a thorn catches his shoulder.

“Great,” he snaps sarcastically. “You know, you go through all this trouble of getting me to come to you what with the weird dreams and then attacking during my birthday party--which, between you and me, I didn’t really mind the interruption, though I could have done without the violence--so you’d think maybe you could extend a little hospitality.” Virgil waits as if the Forest might actually respond to him. The chirp of insects and distant song of birds is the only answer the Forest offers.

“Of course not,” Virgil mutters. “I don’t know what I expected. You’re a monster-infested forest.”

Or in the very least, that’s what the rumors had always said. Virgil wonders if that might have been an old wives’ tale, passed on through the thousand or so years since the Curse first started to convince children to steer clear. Just because Virgil had heard his whole life that monsters lurked in the Forest’s shadows didn’t mean it was actually true, right?

Right.

Virgil sighs and yanks the map Janus had shoved at him out of his pocket. If the skull on the map was referencing the tree ahead of him whose branches vaguely resembled a skull, then--

A twig snaps behind him.

Virgil freezes, his head snapping up. “Hello?” he calls, shoving the map back into his pocket and yanking his sword out of the scabbard.

Nothing answers him. Wind rustles the leaves in the canopy above him. Virgil studies the trees and shadows around him. He can’t shake the vague feeling that he is being watched…

A distant buzzing interrupts his thoughts, and Virgil sees a dark blur rush towards him. He yelps, ducking his head and slashing blindly with the sword. When he looks, Virgil chokes. In front of him, buzzing loudly as it hovers a couple of feet in the air, is a giant hornet--nearly Virgil’s size.

“Look,” Virgil says to it. “My brother always says to avoid violence, but the last few hours has been the culminating impact of years of frustrations, so my patience really isn’t up for--”

The hornet dives for him, and Virgil slashes at it, clipping its side. He narrowly dodges its stinger, slashing again. Virgil’s arms are suddenly coated in a dark, viscous spray of black blood. The giant hornet falls to the ground at Virgil’s feet.

He releases a breath, grimacing against the acrid smell of monster blood that stings his nostrils. His heartbeat is still thudding in his ears, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He just slayed his first monster. A relieved smile tugs at the corner of Virgil’s mouth. He wonders briefly if Patton would be proud of him or horrified. He tries not to think too long about it.

“Not too bad for a--whoa!” Virgil steps back and immediately finds himself falling through the forest floor.

He lands hard and takes a moment to blink stars from his spinning vision. With a grunt of effort, Virgil pushes himself up into a sitting position. The air around him smells… sweet and oddly familiar. On the ground beneath him is loose dirt and a carpet of white and pink mushrooms. A few bright green vines helped to cushion Virgil’s fall. A quick glance around also tells Virgil that he didn’t just fall into a hole--he fell into some sort of underground tunnel that continued on to his left.

He takes in another breath and feels the tension bleed out of his shoulders. It smells like… like Patton’s fresh-baked cookies on a rainy day and… was that his mother’s perfume? Virgil had never really been able to remember his mother’s face, but he remembers the scent the instant he inhales. He suddenly has the near overwhelming desire to curl up and sleep as the syrupy feeling of warm comfort spreads through his chest.

Maybe Virgil could just live here instead of… of… how did he get here again?

“Oh darling!” calls a soft, honey voice and for the briefest moment, Virgil wonders if it’s his mother. He dismisses the idea almost immediately. That isn’t possible.

“Wh--” Virgil’s tongue feels slow, his thoughts shifting through a molasses-sweet haze. “Who said that?”

“I did,” the voice echoes back, melodic and sweet. “Are you my darling?”

“I mean, maybe,” Virgil slurs, blinking owlishly at his surroundings. “I could be someone’s darling.”

“Where are you, darling?”

Virgil squints up at the hole he’d fallen through. “I’m at the bottom of a pit. Where are you?”

“I’m here too, just a bit further in. Come find me, darling.”

Virgil glances over to his left and sees a prick of light down the dark tunnel. Something in his chest tugs, urging, towards it. Virgil pushes himself to his feet, sliding his sword into the scabbard at his hip (why did he have it out to begin with?) and rushes down the tunnel, tripping over stray roots and the increasingly thick network of green vines. As he grows closer to the light, the smell of cookies and his mother’s perfume grows thicker and heavier. He can feel the way it clings to his thoughts in his mind, sticky like melted candy.

The tunnel opens up into a small cavern overrun with moss and flowers. Vines wrap up dirt walls, sprouting flowers of different sizes and colors so bright Virgil squints against the sudden onslaught on his vision. At the center of the clearing is a feminine figure--green skin and green hair that look almost like vines themselves. She turns towards Virgil as he steps into the clearing, her face brightening so much that Virgil almost doesn’t notice that her eyes are bright red like the flowers that dot her arms.

“There you are, my darling. I’ve been waiting so long for you.”

Virgil frowns, his brow creasing. “I’m sorry.”

She giggles, light and delighted. “Oh, that’s all right. What’s important is that you are here now. What’s your name?”

He… can’t remember. It starts with a V, doesn’t it? “V-V...Virgil. Yeah, that’s it. My name is Virgil. What’s your name?”

The woman floats closer. “My name is Flora. I’m the goddess of love.”

Her voice sounds like a music box, soft and lilting. Virgil wants to curl up and use her voice as a blanket. “Where… where am I?”

“This? Why this is the Garden of Delight. You needn’t worry about anything ever again.”

A soft, warm feeling squeezes around Virgil’s chest and it reminds him, distantly, of Patton’s hugs. “That… that sounds nice…”

The woman hums, stepping closer. The dress she wears seems to shimmer, like it had been spun from spider silk and dripped with dew. It did feel rather humid in here, now that Virgil thinks about it. Virgil feels an unusual draw to her, but as he goes to take another step, he finds his feet don’t move. Confused, he glances down. Green vines have snaked around his ankles, locking him in place.

“What--”

“My darling,” the woman purrs, moving closer. “Virgil is a beautiful name. You’ll stay here with me, won’t you? Forever?”

Something about that sounds extremely tempting, and Virgil had the vague sense that it had something to do with the lingering sweetness in the air that reminded Virgil of when he was a child. When things felt easier. Simpler. But he… couldn’t stay, right? He… he was supposed to be going somewhere…

“I… I can’t,” Virgil says, beginning to wonder why it’s so hard to just think right now… “I’m supposed to… um… there’s something I’m… I gotta get to the, uh… I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?” He can feel the vines snaking up his legs, wrapping around his waist and anchoring his wrists to his hips.

He feels like his brain is fighting through gelatin.

“If you could uh, let me go?” he asks.

The woman smiles again, but Virgil swears it’s a row of sharp, pointed fangs that he hadn’t seemed to notice a moment ago. “But you only just got here.”

Virgil tries to wrestle his arms out of the net of vines but they only constrict tighter. He wheezes a cough as the vice-like grip forces some air from his lungs. “Yeah, I know, but--”

“Nobody leaves the Garden of Delight, darling.”

“I just really--”

“They stay here forever.”

“I really gotta--”

“You’re not going anywhere,” the woman growls, with something that definitely isn’t human edged sharply within the words.

Virgil jerks away. “You’re not a goddess.”

“No,” she agrees, grinning wickedly. “And it’s been ages since I’ve had a meal as large and scrumptious as you.”

Virgil thrashes, but he’s held fast by the vines that are only getting tighter. “Let me go!” This is how he’s going to die, isn’t it? He’s such an idiot. “Don’t!” he shouts, though he knows it’s fruitless. There’s nobody around to hear him. Not for miles. How could he have been so stupid--

“That’s enough, fiend!” A new voice, a rich baritone, shouts from the cavern entrance. Virgil tries to crane his neck to look behind him but he only gets a flash of red, white, and gold before the monster in front of him hisses with a flash of pointed teeth.

Through his haze of muddied thoughts, it’s hard for Virgil to follow exactly what happens next. But there’s a glint of silver out of the corner of his eye and the creature before him shrieks in pain and anger. The constricting grip around him slackens suddenly and Virgil shrugs out of the plant cocoon that had been ensnaring him.

He whirls around and sees a boy in a dirtied white prince suit jacket and a red sash across his chest. His dark brown hair falls across his forehead, and his dark eyes are intense with urgency.

“Who are you?” Virgil asks.

“Go back the way you came,” he says instead of answering the question. “You’ll find a rope that you can climb to the surface. I’m going to take care of this overgrown fly-trap.”

“Wait--”

The monster shrieks, her enraged scream echoing in the room. “I’m going to destroy you, you filthy, egotistical human!”

“Funny,” the boy shoots back, “because I was about to say the same thing about you.”

The monster lunges, and Virgil instinctively throws up an arm in front of his face to protect himself. The other boy snarls and slashes with the sword in his hands with expert precision. Virgil can’t help but be impressed. He’s certain that he never has looked that comfortable with a sword in his hands in his entire life.

The scream from the monster cuts out abruptly as the other boy lodges the blade inside of her. She falls, disintegrating into a pile of dirt and vines. The boy wipes the back of his hand across his brow and arcs an eyebrow at Virgil.

He motions to the cavern entrance. “After you.”

….

Virgil sighs as he pulls himself up over the ledge and back onto the forest floor. He never thought he’d be happy to see the Forest again, but he can’t deny the odd rush of relief. Anything was better than sharp fangs flashing in front of his face.

“That… was intense,” he says as he hears the boy behind him pull himself up and start untying the rope from around the nearby tree he’d used as an anchor. “What was that thing?”

The boy pauses thoughtfully. Sunlight filters in through the leaves of the canopy above them and they make the boy’s dark eyes sparkle a bit. “I don’t know what they’re called, but the Forest is full of them.”

“Huh. Well, it’s a good thing you came along, I guess.” Virgil rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Thank you for rescuing me, and for being so beautiful.” Virgil freezes.

So does the other boy, his gaze flashing over and his brow furrowing. “What?”

“Brave!” Virgil blurts and has to stop himself from cringing at his own lack of a filter. He wasn’t usually this clumsy. “Thank you for being so brave. Not beautiful. Wow.” He laughs awkwardly. “I don’t know why I said that. I think some of the toxins must still be messing with my head, y’know? Making me say crazy things. It’s not like I think you’re beautiful.”

The boy’s frown deepens and Virgil holds up his hands. “Not that I think you’re ugly! I mean, obviously you’re not ugly. Like, if you put a sword to my head and said are you attractive or ugly, obviously I’d have to go with attractive because objectively that’s just a fact--” Oh my God, Virgil, stop talking--“but it’s not like you’re so attractive I can’t stop looking at you or anything. Am I talking a lot? I feel like I’m talking a lot.”

“You are,” the boy replies absently, his gaze narrowing at something off in the distance. Virgil is oddly relieved to get the sense that he stopped listening a while ago.

“Right. So uh, I’m trying to say thank you.” Virgil takes a deep breath, trying to slow his still-racing thoughts and pounding heart. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve been following you.” It’s only then that Virgil realizes the boy hadn’t been untying the rope from the tree--he’d been securing it more firmly.

“What? You’ve been following me?” He watches as the other boy loops the rope over the tree branch, then makes a lasso with the loose end in his hands. “Um, what’s the lasso for?”

“I have some questions,” he answers, his gaze narrowing. “And since I don’t know you nor do I trust you, I thought you might be more inclined to answer them if you’re dangling from a tree.”

“Oh,” Virgil says before it sinks in. “Wait, what--Hey!” Before he can stop it, the boy lasso’s Virgil’s waist and pulls, and Virgil sees the world spin violently before he’s staring dizzily at the boy upside down. “Let me down!”

The boy crosses his arms over his chest. “Now then. Who are you and what are you doing in this Forest?”

Virgil’s fingers twitch for his sword, but he figures he’d be about as likely to poke his own eye out than cut himself down. And even then, what would happen? He’d seen the boy face off with the forest monster and he’d sliced her like it was nothing with barely a flick of his wrist. Virgil couldn’t very well fight this boy. And besides, he doesn’t really want to.

“Me? Just--I’m nobody. I’m just walking through.”

The boy scoffs and shakes his head. He waves a hand at him. “Your clothes are filthy but clearly Western from the design and fabric choices. And your sword carries the insignia of the royal family.” His gaze darkens then, and he takes a step closer. Virgil watches the way his grip on the sword flexes in preparation. “Do you work for them?”

“No!” he says immediately. “No, I--I don’t. No royal family for me.”

“You’re alone then? You aren’t traveling with any member of the royal family?”

“No, definitely not.”

The boy studies him for a moment before he seems satisfied with the answer. “My apologies. You can never be too careful. Especially in this Forest.”

Virgil finds himself nodding despite the wave of confusion the comment brings. He just wants to get out of this in one piece. “No, of course.”

The boy slides his sword into the scabbard at his hip. “My name is Roman. Prince of the East. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

“Uh, not really?”

“The younger brother of King Thomas? Heir to the Polished Throne. Defender of the Perished Realm.”

Virgil sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Sorry.”

“Vanquisher of the Dragon Witch. Protector of the Sacred Flame. Champion of the Hero’s Forge.”

This is ridiculous, Virgil thinks. He arcs an eyebrow. “What was that last one?”

Something sparks in Roman’s eyes, and he places his hands on his hips as if posing for a portrait. “Champion of the Hero’s Forge?”

Virgil does take a second to wrack his memory, wondering if maybe he had read something about any of the ridiculous titles Roman had just rattled off, but nothing rings a bell. “Champion of the--no, sorry.”

Roman seems to deflate, his hands falling from his hips. “Really?”

He knows he shouldn’t--the boy is dangling him from a tree for crying out loud--but Virgil does feel a little bad for him. His ridiculous batch of titles notwithstanding. “We just don’t hear much about you guys in the West. Honestly, we weren’t even sure there was anyone left in the East. We’d sort of assumed the Forest had finished you all off.”

Which, now that Virgil thought about it, he honestly wasn’t sure if that was simply a misguided belief or another intentional deception to further obscure the truth about this Forest and the Curse from Virgil. Then again, Virgil thinks, Patton may have made a lot of mistakes, but he didn’t think willful deception like that was really Patton’s preferred method. He tended to just avoid things.

The most Virgil had heard about the East Kingdom had been in history books, scribbled in the margins of notebooks. From what Virgil’s been able to gather, the two kingdoms had gone to war ages ago. Virgil couldn’t figure out why, exactly, or even a direct timeline. He assumed it must have been thousands of years ago; so long that the true reason for the feud had been lost to history.

“Hm,” Roman says, his brows pinching together.

“But,” Virgil adds, “it’s nice to meet you, I guess. I’ve never met anyone from the East before. Honestly, I don’t even really know why we were at war with you. So like, maybe you could cut me down now?”

Roman’s careful, scrutinizing gaze sweeps over Virgil. His hand rests on the hilt of his sword. “You still haven’t told me who you are or what you’re doing in this Forest.”

Virgil’s thoughts trip over each other. He can’t very well give his real name--not when the boy had looked almost murderous when he asked about the royal family. He wracks his head for some kind of alternative. “My name is, um, Anxiety.”

Roman blinks at him. “Anxiety?”

Virgil could kick himself. Of course that was a stupid answer. “Uh, yeah. That’s--that’s what everyone calls me, anyway. Not that I know a lot of people. I, um, live here. In the Forest. Alone.”

“You live in the Forbidden Forest?” Roman arcs a skeptical eyebrow.

Virgil silently curses to himself. He’s really not that well-practiced in lying. He didn’t like it, generally. In his experience, it tended to just make things worse. But he could almost hear Janus’s voice in his head, telling him that lying to preserve his safety was preferred to getting hurt.

“Yeah. I’m uh, on the run. From the royal family in the West.” That was… at least somewhat true?

“Why?”

The memories from yesterday morning flash through his mind. “I’m a thief.” Also kind of true.

“A thief.”

“Yes,” Virgil confirms. “How else do you think I got this sword with the royal insignia on it?” Virgil hopes silently and fervently that Roman’s unexplained contempt for the royal family would work in his favor here.

Roman scoffs. “Great,” he mutters, mostly to himself though loud enough for Virgil to hear, “Just what I need. A vagabond with no sense of honor. Fine. The Forest can deal with you.” He turns his back and starts walking away.

“Wait!” Virgil calls out. “Where are you going? You can’t just leave me here.”

Roman turns back to him, crossing back the short distance. “What I can’t do is have a confessed criminal traipsing around the Forest.” He waves a hand to gesture around them.

So apparently his contempt did not outweigh his morals. Virgil has the vague thought that Patton would approve of that, if nothing else. “You misunderstood,” Virgil stammers hurriedly. “When I said thief, I meant like a… a…” What was that story Patton used to read to him when they were kids? “Robin Hood kind of deal. You know, steal from the rich, feed the poor. That’s why the royal family hates me. I’m like a, um, hero.”

Roman’s brows shoot up in surprise. “A hero?”

“In a looser sense of the word--”

“How long have you been hiding in this forest?”

“Wh--oh. Years. Like… forever.” Virgil is starting to get a headache from the blood still rushing to his head.

Roman looks unimpressed. “Yet you nearly got killed by a talking plant moments ago because you stumbled blindly into her lair.”

“Yes,” Virgil says, unable to disagree with that point when they both had been there and Roman had been following him, apparently. “But that’s the first time that’s ever happened.” True. “Which, if you think about it, is sort of a point in my favor, right?”

“Hm.” Roman purses his lips before yanking the sword out of his scabbard. Virgil flinches as it flashes in the sunlight, but there’s the sound of snapping rope and Virgil lands clumsily on the forest floor. The sudden headrush makes spots dance across his vision and Virgil blinks to clear them away.

“Warn a dude, next time?” Virgil grumbles.

“I’ll make you a deal, Robin Brood,” Roman announces, ignoring the comment.

“You can call me Anxiety.”

“My first night in the Forest,” Roman presses on, “my horse got spooked and ran off with my map. Since then, I’ve been--”

“Completely lost?”

“In need of direction.” He points his sword towards Virgil with ease, like it’s an extension of his arm. “If you can take me where I need to go, I promise to spare your life and let you go at the end of our journey.”

That… seems fair to Virgil. He’d take this prince guy on a little side quest, and then he’d be able to rush to the Hollow shortly thereafter. A little detour should be fine, right? “Uh, sure. Yeah. I guess. Where do you need to go?”

“The Hollow of the Kings,” Roman answers as Virgil pushes himself to his feet.

Virgil freezes, his brow furrowing. “Uh, sure. Yeah. But why do you need to go there?”

“That is none of your business. Do we have a deal or should I get my rope?”

Virgil holds his hands up in surrender. “No, sure. Yeah. I’ll take you to the Hollow.”

Roman crosses over to a heavy-looking bag and picks it up. “Now that you work for me, you’ll carry my things.” He shoves the bag into Virgil’s arms. Virgil staggers under the sudden weight, cursing under his breath.

“Yeah, no problem, buddy,” he quips sarcastically, adjusting his hold on the bag to more easily manage the weight.

“Don’t call me buddy.”

“You got it, boss.” Virgil tries to hide a smirk. He couldn’t explain why, but there was something a little fun about teasing the other prince.

“Your Royal Highness is fine,” Roman replies without a shred of irony.

Virgil snorts. “All right, Princey.”

Roman scowls. “Also, please only speak when spoken to. You talk a lot, and it’s beginning to give me a headache.”

Virgil arcs an eyebrow. His ears are still ringing from the headrush. “I’m giving you a headache?”

“Yes. Also--”

“Oh my God, how many rules do you have?”

Roman whirls around and Virgil finds the tip of his sword poised just below his chin. Roman’s expression darkens. “If I find out you’ve been lying to me about anything, I will feed you to the nearest plant. Got it?”

Virgil swallows. “Got it.”

“Great!” he says brightly, sheathing his sword once more. “Then onward we travel. Lead me to the Hollow, Robin Mood.”

“Same joke.”

“It was a variation.”

...

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padfootagain · 4 years ago

Text

A Very Rose Mistake (V)

Part 5 : How Jealousy Gets Denied

Here we go with a new chapter! I am back, people! Sorry for the long pause, but depression is kicking my arse these days, so writing is a little hard at times. Plus, this turned out longer than I thought it would be.

No warning to be applied here, except for a little bit of jealousy **demonical laughter**

Troubles are starting. It's coming folks!

I hope you like this part! Please, tell me what you think about it!

Also, if you want to explore more the area where the hike described in this chapter takes place in the Trossachs, here is a very nice website where you have a view from Ben A'an!

Word count: 4686

Holmes Chapel

2008

Harry was late.

Again.

Third time in a week, and it was beginning to seriously get on your nerves. You repeatedly tapped your pen on your desk, while looking outside your window towards Harry's in the house next to yours. His curtains were closed, you hesitated to use the red piece of glass to signal him that you needed him, but neither of you had used it in a long time. So, you didn't really dare to reach for the drawer of your desk.

You didn't want to seem childish in front of him these days. And maybe it was because of his girlfriend. Maybe it was because he had a girlfriend when you had never had a boyfriend yourself. And maybe you were also getting more and more pissed because Harry was ignoring you these days.

You didn't want to be that friend, the one who called on him and acted clingy and asked for time to be spent with. You understood that Harry was infatuated. You understood that he liked his girlfriend and wanted to spend time with her, and it was normal. But that didn't mean that he had the right to simply cancel all your plans. You were okay with the fact that you couldn't just drop by to his house anymore unannounced, in case Felicia would be there with him. But you had planned this evening to work on your essay for your English class. You had checked with him if he was free, and he had promised to come by 5 pm. It was almost 6 now.

You checked your cellphone one more time, but once again, were met with no text messages or missed calls. He hadn't even warned you that he'd be late, which he used to do before Felicia got into the picture.

You didn't want to be that kind of friend who acted almost possessive, and couldn't manage to accept the arrival of his girlfriend in your inner circle of friends. But on the other hand, you reckoned that Harry was being that kind of friend too. The kind who abandoned his friends to spend all his time with his girlfriend. The kind who got so engulfed in his relationship that he simply dropped everything else the second she asked for him. It was excessive, you reckoned, but then, you weren't altogether surprised. Harry was passionate, and loyal to a fault. He was forgiving and too kind for his own good sometimes. You didn't doubt that in a relationship, he would be a huge romantic. Maybe he had an idea of love that was a little too idealistic, a little too naïve, with too many rainbows and unicorns involved and not enough heartbreak, but you couldn't really hold it against him. You could, however, hold against him that it was the third time in five days that he wasn't meeting you when you planned to spend a couple of hours working together, and it was driving you crazy.

It was a strange mixture of feelings that you experienced, between anger and aching and something a little cold that you couldn't really describe. It felt painful, that was for sure, but more than sad, it was painted red with annoyance and fear. A little voice in your head that screamed 'danger'. You weren't sure of what the feeling meant, but you knew for certain that you didn't like it all the same.

Lost in your thought, you jumped as your mother's voice rang through the house, calling for you.

"Y/N! Harry's here!"

You barely had the time to turn to your door before Harry was stumbling in the room, clearly out of breath.

"Hi, Y/N!" he grinned, staggering in the room and throwing his backpack on your bed.

"Hi," you tried to give him a smile, but it was hard to brush the irritating feeling away as it lingered despite Harry's presence.

"Okay, so… what do we start with?"

You tried to answer his question, you really did. But you were too angry at him for behaving like this for weeks now. So, instead, you answered his question with one of your own.

"Where were you?"

"What?" he asked back with a perplexed frown.

"I've been waiting for you for more than an hour. Where were you?"

He heaved a sigh, letting himself fall onto your bed.

"I know, I'm sorry I'm late. Felicia wanted to hang out a little after my shift at the bakery."

You stared at him for a moment, before standing up to go close the door. Harry watched you with an eyebrow raised in surprise, but he didn't speak nor did he try to interrupt you.

You heaved a sigh, nervously twisting your hands together.

"Harry… You've got to stop doing that," you told him, your voice slow yet he could hear in the way it trembled that you were angry and were trying to keep your voice down. "You can't just… tell me you're gonna study with me and then disappear to go snog your girlfriend instead."

"Y/N…"

"No, let me finish! You're not being fair! I haven't seen you outside of school in weeks. You're either late or you don't show at all."

"What do you want me to do? She's my girlfriend…"

"And I'm your best friend."

"I've got to make time for her."

"I get that. I'm not blaming you for seeing her."

"That's exactly what you're doing though."

Your expression saddened, the crease between your brows fading to reveal a fragility that wasn't there before instead.

"I get it that you want to spend time with her, but we had planned to study together. You can't just cancel everything for her either, you need a balance between the two. It can't be all about her. I get it that you want to spend time with her, and that's alright. But when we agree on a time to spend with each other, you can't bail out."

"I'm not making it all about her."

"You are though."

"If you had a boyfriend, you'd understand."

You cringed at that, wincing and glowering at him. You weren't good either at hiding how his words hurt you.

"What? I'm right," he shrugged.

"You're being a dick."

"You're overreacting."

"If I promised you that I would do something for you, and I didn't do it to spend some time with my boyfriend, wouldn't you be mad at me?"

Harry tried to deny your statement, but he would have been lying. And he didn't want to lie to you. So, instead, he heaved a sigh, and it was his time to wince.

"I guess…"

"Well, that's what you've been doing ever since you started being with her!"

You were starting to raise your voice, and Harry hated it. Not only was he annoyed, but he also simply hated seeing you upset, no matter the reason behind your emotion.

He felt his own anger rising, a mere reflex to hearing your acidic tone. But he knew that it wouldn't do anything good, and he didn't mean to upset you even more. He couldn’t deny either that you were right. He had been neglecting your friendship lately, and he could see now that it was hurting you. So, he heaved a sigh.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled under his breath, pushing the words out reluctantly. "I guess you're right."

He reached in his backpack, grabbing a bag of pastries he had gotten from the bakery he worked at.

"I bought these for you, by the way."

You cautiously took the bag he was handing you, as if it were a trick of his. You peered inside to reveal a couple of chocolate muffins.

"These are my favourite," you breathed, hating the way your anger simply melted away.

He always had this effect on you. Harry always managed to do something so kind, no matter how big the gesture, that you couldn't stay mad at him.

Because you had never asked him for these cakes. He just saw them and thought of you.

For a moment, you were envious, almost, of his girlfriend. Because it had to be wonderful to be with someone who truly paid attention to people and wanted to make them happy as a reflex.

You knew that he hadn't bought the cakes for any particular reason. That he hadn't thought of anything besides the fact that you liked this flavour and it would make you happy to munch on these as you studied with him.

Your heart was beating faster, and you weren't sure why. You knew though that, as you thought of Harry's girlfriend again, you were bitter, and not only because how annoyed you were at Harry for being late.

"I know," he answered with the ghost of a smile, as if you had said the dumbest and most obvious thing.

You heaved a sigh, sitting by his side on your bed.

"Thanks."

"I'll make sure not to be late next time."

"Thank you."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his embrace.

"Are we good?"

"Yeah… we're good," you nodded, relaxing in his arms.

"Good, cause you need to help me with this history thing. It's so boring!"

"History is not boring! You're boring," you replied, your voice shushed by his jumper as you pressed your face in his shoulder.

Loud footsteps echoed throughout the hallway by your door, but you didn't pay much attention to them, way too comfortable in your best friend's arms to be bothered.

Until your door was swung opened, making both you and Harry jump and break away in a hurry. Your father appeared, seeming infuriated, and when he spoke, his voice was shaking with wrath.

"I told both of you to always keep this door open!"

Loch Lomond

2020

For the first day with the entire family in Loch Lomond, Cassie and Amy took a day without any planning and proposed to go explore the shores and the wilderness around the lodge. Some members of your family were eager for a quiet day along the shores, but you wanted to go explore other parts of the region, which was why you were now sitting around the breakfast table with a guide book and your phone set on your laps, focused on finding the perfect spot for a hike.

"You've spent half an hour looking at maps, darling… just… choose a path and go there," your mother sighed, annoyed.

"What do you care? You're gonna stay here all day anyway. I want a nice spot. I want to climb and have a nice view, but I also want some forest."

Your mother rolled her eyes at you again, but chose to not say a word this time.

"I think I'm gonna go to the Trossachs and try to go to… Ben A'an. It has a nice spot, it should give us a nice view," you mumbled under your breath, talking more to yourself than to anyone else in particular. "But it's not too high so it shouldn't be too hard."

By your side, Harry was finishing to eat his pancake and drinking his cup of coffee, reading the newspaper. If he was attending your cousin's wedding, he also took this week as a well-deserved holiday. He had been particularly busy these past few months, and would enjoy to spend a calmer week. And if he usually never refused a hike or any activity outdoor, he longed for a good nap. So, when asked, he had chosen to stay around the loch for the day. Amy's grandfather was organizing an expedition to go fishing, and Harry was most likely going to join the activity. Cassie was up for the hike and was on her way to convincing Amy to join her (after all, a lot of kisses always go a long way and are hard to resist), so you wouldn't be going on your own, he could sit this one out and just enjoy a lazy day.

He was sitting next to you around the long table. He had been eyeing your hand for the past ten minutes, but hadn't dared to reach for it. Giving his usually affectionate way to display friendship, it shouldn't have been a worry for him to add a sprinkle of touches here and there for your family to better buy your dating alibi.

But the thing was, it was you. And things were different with you. And touching your hand wasn't the same as reaching for any other of his friends' or acquaintances'. He couldn't say why, didn't dare to, but it wasn't the same, so he read for the third time in a row the same line of his article while he silently weighed the pros and the cons of reaching out and taking your hand in his.

Meanwhile, Patrick was listening to your conversation while munching on his eggs.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" he asked, studying the picture on the guide book of the spot you had found from across the table, craning his neck a little to see the picture better. "It really does look like it has an incredible view."

"Sure!" you answered with an enthusiastic smile. "The more the merrier!"

You didn't notice the frown that settled on Harry's brow. You didn't notice his gaze abandoning the article to settle on you.

"Great! That sounds like a lot of fun. I love hiking. It's soothing, to be closer to nature."

"Yeah, me too. I try to go out as much as I can to take long walks or go hiking around L.A."

"I've joined a group actually last year. We organize hikes almost every weekend. It's nice to have people to walk with."

"Oh, that's so nice! Where do you go hiking?"

Harry studied the way you leaned towards Patrick, and the way he reciprocated your gesture, the open conversation closing around only the two of you. And he wished you were leaning towards him instead.

He shook himself out of this thought, though. What was wrong with him? You were just talking about hiking…

"Just around Glasgow, but I don't think we've been to this spot yet, I'd really like to try this trail."

"Well, then, you're welcome to join us!"

You reached across the table to take a piece of bread, and Patrick accidentally did the same thing as you at the same time, your hands meeting across the table.

You pulled away in a hurry, shying away and mumbling an apology under your breath. And Harry didn't miss a bit of the interaction. He didn't miss the way you wiggled on your chair, and the way you looked away, and the way your fingers struggled a little to wrap around your cup of tea.

And he didn't miss the way Patrick struggled to hide a smile, and the way he stared at you too intensely, and the way his eyes stopped on your lips for a moment before settling on his plate again.

Harry rolled his eyes in response, annoyed. He didn't sign up to play third wheel…

"Who else is supposed to come?" Patrick asked, bringing the conversation back to life.

"Cassie and Amy! I reckon that everybody else is having a lazy day today."

"Your boyfriend isn't coming either?" he asked, turning to Harry, who was still mostly hidden behind his newspaper.

"No, he said he'd go fishing…"

"Actually, I think I've changed my mind," your fake boyfriend jumped into the conversation, folding his newspaper to place it on the table next to his plate. "A hike sounds great!"

"You're sure? You said you were tired," you asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Breakfast gave me a boost, actually. I'd love to go hiking."

This time, he didn't hesitate, and he did reach for your hand that rested on the white tablecloth, wrapping his long fingers around yours and giving them a gentle squeeze. You gave him a grin.

"Great! Then, it'll be just the five of us! It's gonna be amazing!"

You turned towards your food to hurry to finish so you could get ready. Meanwhile, Harry and Patrick's gazes met, and if no words were exchanged, the way that Patrick looked down at his plate after only a handful of seconds spoke volumes all the same.

"Okay, you said it would not be too hard…"

You couldn't answer to Cassie through your panting. You had barely started and you were already out of breath, a sharp jolt of pain stinging your side. The path was steep, making your muscles ache already and your breath catch in your throat. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all…

"Well, it didn't seem so hard on the internet…" you replied, stopping to catch your breath.

The sky was clear and blue, with only a handful of lazy clouds drifting before the sun once in a while. Bosquets around the path clothed the high grass on each sides, while evergreen pine trees mingled their green foliage with the orange, red and yellow ones of deciduous trees. It created a strange and yet beautiful mix of colours that painted the slopes of the mountains, forming a forest across the lower parts of the rocky sides. The path in itself was clear and there was no fear of getting lost, and for as long as you were careful to not twist your ankle on a random piece of rock, you reckoned that the road was quite safe. Except for its slope, that was much steeper than what you had anticipated. You expected an easy hike, and were met with a pretty difficult one instead so far.

By your side, Harry was panting as well, and you were suddenly worried about his asthma.

"You alright?" you asked him with concern painted all over your features.

But Harry gave you a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine. Not ever trusting… you again with… planning a hike… but… besides that… I'm fine," he answered, his words cut by deep breaths he was forced to take in an attempt to calm his burning lungs.

"It'll get easier soon, look," you reassured him, nodding towards the path that stretched before you, and seemed to be less steep further on.

Patrick seemed to struggle less than the rest of your party, and he turned to you as he visibly held back on his speed to stay with the group instead of going further on his own.

"I'll take your bag if you want," he offered you, nodding at your little backpack where you had your bottle of water and some cookies that would be your prize for when you would reach the top.

But you shook your head.

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? It's no bother. I'm used to hiking in this kind of terrain, it's easier for me."

Harry rolled his eyes at the comment, but remained silent, merely trying to catch his breath himself.

Despite having some steep moments, the path was pleasant and the fresh air was doing wonders on your moral. For once, you were able to forget about the stress of your PhD, and spending some time with your friends put an unwavering smile on your lips.

The wind of autumn was chilly and on the less protected spots of the trail, it bit down on your cheeks, but it was vivifying too, in a way that gave you energy to go on and continue further up the path. Without your parents around, both you and Harry were more relaxed, and you fell back into your usual banter, acting more like friends than fake lovers again. And it was comfortable. A known territory you had been exploring for decades, familiar and safe. You were in a comfort zone that the two of you had built along the years, and it felt reassuring to fall back in this old safe area of your relationship for a few hours.

As you finally reached the top after more than an hour of climbing up the rocky path, your breath was taken away not only by the physical effort you had been through, but by the sight before your eyes. The top of Ben A'an offered almost a 360°C sight over the loch and the mountains all around, a perfect mix of peaceful water, blue sky, rocky mountains and slopes painted in green, orange, yellow and red by trees in fall. A couple of ravens croaked a few meters away, perched on mossy rocks and breaking the quiet of the place. The wind, strong and howling, seemed to punch your cheeks with each ghast of air. Facing you, Ben Venue stood taller, its sloops colourful, as if the work of a painter more than of nature. Loch Katrine stretched as a long patch of water, glimmering under the vivid sun, on your right. On the other side of a forest, laid the calm waters of Loch Achray, situated on your left. You rested your back against one of the rocks behind you as you took in the view, your feet safely set against the pebbles and dirt on the ground, the grassy area, punctuated with bushes, only starting close to the edge of the slope. The top of Ben A'an, that you had now reached, was rather levelled, and all over a perfect spot for a break.

"It's gorgeous," you breathed.

"Yeah," Harry nodded by your side, still out of breath after the last push that had been needed to reach the top.

You turned a worried face towards him.

"Are you sure you're alright? You're breathing funny."

He coughed a couple of times, but rolled his eyes at you.

"I'm fine, mum. Just out of breath because I've finished climbing up a mountain just now, you know?"

It was your time to roll your eyes at him.

"Well, sorry to get worried about your malfunctioning lungs."

"They're not malfunctioning!"

"You're asthmatic! They are malfunctioning."

"You're out of breath too."

"I don't sound like I'm about to die."

"I don't either. You've clearly never heard someone dying. That's not how it sounds."

You exchanged a playful smile, while he joined you, resting his back against the rock and enjoying the view.

"In all seriousness though," he went on, still struggling to ease out his breathing. "I might let you choose another hike after this one. It's a very nice view."

"Ha! I knew it!" you cheered, giggling.

Cassie and Amy were admiring the view over the loch as well, holding onto each other. Patrick was drinking some water a couple of steps away from you. But as you felt your body cooling down, you decided to use the last remnants of adrenaline of your long walk to climb on top of the rock you were resting upon, thus reaching the true top of the mountain. There would truly be nothing above you then but the blue sky and the occasional crows flying by. It wasn't a very elegant endeavour, as you struggled to climb up the rock. Harry hurried to grab your waist to steady you, scolding you as you slipped.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a deep frown, worry oozing from his deep voice.

"Climbing!"

"Y/N, it's not a good idea, it's slippery."

"Shut up and help me up!"

He rolled his eyes but helped you anyway. Because he could never say no to you anyway. Never had been able to since you were five years old and you asked to play with his favourite toy. So, he secured his hold on your waist, helping your movements to secure your climb, ready to catch you if you were to fall. But you didn't fall, instead reaching the top of the last rock to climb. You took a couple of steps on the top, to reach the highest part, now enjoying a view of both sides of the mountain, water and forests and steep sloops of mountains seeming to lay at your feet just for you. The wind was even more violent at the top, almost deafening, but you didn't mind. You felt so confident for some reason, your usual problems seeming millions of miles away. Standing there, at the top of Ben A'an, it felt like you had reached the top of the world itself. You let out a laugh as you opened your arms wide, letting the wind blow against you with all its strength, turning your face up towards the sun to let its warmth bloom across your cheeks.

And down the rock, still on the path, Harry was looking up at you, listening to your laugh carried across the sky by the strong wind. He took in your dishevelled looks after your climb, and the way the wind caught in your jacket, blowing it away from your body. The way the sun got caught on your skin, and the way your lips split in a glowing smile. A thin layer of sweat glistened on your face, illuminated by the sun. And your carefree stance made you look absolutely unreal.

There was a deep rumble in his heart. A bright, luminous kind of aching that he had been trying hard to forget for years. And he had succeeded. After years of trying, he had made the feeling go away.

So why did he feel like this again now?

Looking at you with arms spread, embracing the world, it seemed, with a happy and free expression written on your features, he just couldn't stop the feeling from settling in his heart once more.

You were beautiful. Radiant. Something about you made him unable to look away. And he hated it. He hated the fact that he felt like this about you. But he couldn't help it. So, he stared at you as you laughed away in the wind, an uncontrollable yet fond smile on his face.

Sometimes he wondered how you could even be real.

And for a moment, he was so entranced in you that he didn't notice that Patrick was staring at you as well.

Harry helped you climb back down, a safe hold securing your movements, and you held onto his shoulders too for leverage. Landing in his arms, so close to him, made him fiercely blush, but he reckoned that if anyone noticed, he could always blame the wind.

But then he was your fake boyfriend for this week. Which meant that he was allowed to be this close to you. He was allowed to hold you for a moment longer than what was needed, and he could always claim that it was to keep up appearances, instead of him simply longing to have you close. And if he repeated this excuse enough times in his head, maybe, just maybe, he might believe in it himself too.

As your gazes met though, it was impossible for him to pretend, and reflexes came rushing back as Harry stepped away from you, an embarrassed blush blooming all the way up to the tip of his ears. You were distracted from his reaction though as Patrick handed you a bottle of water.

This time though, Harry didn't miss the way Patrick looked at you as you thanked him, accepting the water bottle. He didn't miss the way his gaze lingered for too long on your fingers wrapping around the plastic, nor the way he glimpsed at your lips as you brought the bottle to your lips.

When he felt his blood boiling in his veins, Harry attributed the symptom to mere annoyance. Because he hadn't travelled all the way from LA to Scotland for a week, lied to your parents, gotten dragged in all that mess, taken the risk to face his own mother's judgement about the whole ordeal too as your parents were close friends… to end up playing third wheel for you and Patrick. And that was all there was to it.

Maybe the way his heart stomped in his chest was a bit too violent for mere annoyance, but it wasn't a safe choice to call the feeling jealousy, after all.

**********************************************************************

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sanktagenyas · 4 years ago

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alrighty so i guess coherent thoughts about this book might be a very generous estimate of what i’m about to write here but i’ll write down my thoughts anyway ‘cause i wanna share and possibly hear yours like for real interactions with my posts are not just welcomed they’re encouraged.

ok so to start our protagonists are alina and mal and our antagonist is the darkling and i pretty much related to alina right away because i love a hero with insecurities and doubts, i love an underdog so of course i was always meant to fall in love with alina starkov on sight. now the darkling... should be that i and everyone else would be beyond tired of the dark, tall, handsome and mysterious/scary men in fiction especially when they whisk our hero away for even more mysterious and/or nefarious purposes that they leave them completely in the dark about BUT the charisma fucking jump off of the pages i don’t know what else to tell you. and i am deeply intrigued about him and his backstory and also him and how he feels about our protagonist because when you catch the attention of a centuries old immortal being that says something about you but it says more about said immortal imo.

we come to learn that the darkling is beyond ruthless and yet he still a capacity for love after all this time even if it’s quite out of use to say the least. and just the fact that out of the thousands of people who have crossed his path there’s this one girl he saw and he was like well look at that someone who’s not unremarkable for once. and i know that’s not exactly a romantic sentiment but that’s how it starts, folks.

but anyway to cap my little ramble here despite the fact that i’ve seen that kind of villain before i do still really love the darkling. i like that we don’t have all the facts yet about what led him to become who he is so there’s just the right amount of mystery around him to keep you wanting to discover more and he is just human enough that he is not this caricature monstrous villainous figure (alina would beg to differ but i don’t listen to what alina yells at people when she’s angry)

now onto mal. i’m trying to word this in a way that doesn’t make me come off as a raging anti because the truth is that would require me to be invested in mal enough to hate him and as of now i’m just not. with book one being told entirely in alina’s perspective it’s pretty in your face that we should care about mal. our hero loves him and we want her to be happy, right? plus we really shouldn’t ship her with the villain there are so many wrong aspects about that dynamic just to name one aspect the deceit and the lies. the foundation of darklina is so fucked we should not ship it, right? well see that’s where i would argue that my biggest issue with darklina as a ship is the darkling in the final act all but saying fuck alina’s agency i’m going to make her my puppet for eternity not because that is necessary to accomplish my plan but because i’m jealous and resentful that she left me behind and didn’t embrace my plans for ravka and therefore embrace me.

and you might think wait i’ve lost the plot we were talking about mal and now we’re talking about darklina and the darkling but rewind back a little i said my issue with darklina in the final act of the book is the darkling pissing all over alina’s agency. and he might do that in more extreme ways than mal but mal certainly does seem to view alina as property at times and that implies him not respecting her agency. i could point to the fact that saying “don’t tell me we don’t belong together” is only framed as romantic statement because it comes out of the mouth of one of our protagonists and not our antagonist but that’s a cheap shot, it’s easy. instead i’ll echo my thoughts i shared about that malina reunion in chapter fourteen. mal was not one bit concerned about alina there and even though he says later on that not one hour was spent not thinking about her and wondering about her wellbeing all that flies out of the window the second he sees her with the darkling during the fete and here’s the thing if he had caught them mid makeout session i could understand him letting jealousy completely overtake him to the point that he doesn’t ask if she’s ok or how she’s been treated here and just assumes based on appearances (let’s not forget before she unlocked her powers alina was well and truly miserable regardless of the luxury afforded to her by her new grisha status so appearances don’t mean shit malyen) that she must be hunky dory and then tiptoes the line around slutshaming her but definitely crosses the line over into making her feel like shit for circumstances beyond her control territory and all that over seeing her do magic trickery at a party with another guy.

alina is allowed to be attracted to another man, she’s allowed to have feelings for another man. they’re both guilty of miscommunication as they obviously both feel the same way about each other but alina has the decency to keep her jealousy to herself and not have outbursts about mal getting close to other girls like she owns his ass or something. that put me off and then i was hoping there would be a talk that would clarify things and he would apologize and that happened but it also came with the revelation that mal was upset to see her happy with the darkling. so he’d rather see the woman he loves miserable and alone rather than happy and belonging? and that’s the romantic lead i’m meant to be fawning over? i’m just not seeing it right now and that’s why even as he so generously offers her absolution (idk if you can read my sarcasm but just to be clear it’s sarcasm) for having loved the darkling and tells her he loves all of her even the part that loved the darkling i’m like..... i don’t believe you boy.

i guess in summary my thoughts about mal as a love interest is i need some consistency you cannot have him throw a jealous fit over seeing alina standing with another man (that’s literally all they were doing for real) and looking happy about it and then have him be like i don’t care i love you anyway. you cannot have him act as though he owns alina and in the same breath throw in her face that the darkling owns her (i hate this foreshadowing thank you very much) and you cannot have him get cold or angry at so much of a mention of a life she might have that doesn’t include him and then expect me to believe he’s made peace with her having feelings for more than just him. he’s not even able to accept a scenario where she goes off and does shit that doesn’t involve him as he shows no interest in her life in the little palace for the longest time. meanwhile you can literally read all about alina wondering what happened to him and what he went through trying to get to her. and for the love of saints i would love it if alina would stop acting like she needs to be forgiven for these feelings i absolutely get that she feels conned and ashamed about it but you do not need to ask anyone for absolution for falling someone who made you feel seen for the first time in your life. fuck that noise.

i just know trust issues are gonna arise and i know he doesn’t feel that way truly. if alina turned around and at some point decided to show mercy to the darkling mal wouldn’t understand or accept it and i’d fully expect a guilt trip to ensue.

now that’s my thoughts on mal as a romantic lead and that’s about the biggest aspect of him we’re focusing on but i do think he is a brave man who genuinely cared for his friends and genuinely cares for alina as that whole journey to hunt morozova’s herd definitely proved. he loves her i don’t doubt that but one grand gesture doesn’t excuse the way he treats her earlier in the books is my point and as been pointed out by others i don’t like how much alina relies on him even when he isn’t here. her refusal to let go of him was directly affecting her happiness and overall health as she couldn’t come into her powers before she thought he was lost to her. if i’m not liking who the hero becomes when she’s with the love interest it’s a big indicator i’m not gonna love said love interest as much as i’m clearly expected to by the author. i like mal just fine, he’s not without redeeming qualities, i just don’t love him yet and i may never do and that’s ok.

now i wanna take a moment and a couple sentences (it won’t be a novel i swear, pinky promise!) to talk about the twist that i should have seen coming miles away and i already know once my sister watches the show or reads the book whatever comes first i will be mercilessly teased about not seeing it coming. but when i found out the black heretic and the darkling are one of the same my jaw dropped. as memers might say i took that personally. and even though we have a lot of grounds to covers still and unanswered questions such as is the darkling still alive? if he is what is he up to now? is baghra dead in a ditch somewhere or worse? will alina and genya ever see each other again? why was zoya so standoffish and violent with alina, what’s her story? the question in my mind most prominent is what happened to the darkling? what happened for him to become who he is. i love the quote monsters are not born they’re made and i much prefer to see a villain who wasn’t always one than one who is just evil for the evulz. so i want a backstory and i also wanna learn about baghra while we’re at it.

it’s all fun and well for her to denounce her son’s actions but and i hate to break it to her but YOU RAISED HIM LADY. so yeah baghra’s whole speech to alina is missing parts for sure because she’s not just gonna admit her hands are covered in blood as much as the darkling’s are. not without some pressing at least.

sooo to cap off all this i guess i would have just two throwaway remarks and that is that i am getting a lot of gay vibes from alina and if i took a shot every time she remarks on genya’s beauty or just gushes about genya in general i’d be drunk by now and i hope we get an actual queer romance somewhere in these books even just between side characters. second remark would be ivan i’m waiting for you to find some redeeming qualities my dude, i was rooting for you! at first he is a raging dickhead about it but seemed to mellow some and then near the end it’s right back to square one and i am really sorry about his brothers dying but having lost family members is not actually a get out of jail free card that gives you free range to mistreat people just because you can.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone book spoilers #i'm not putting anti malina tags on here because i'm not interested in engaging in disc-horse #that's why i'm also not tagging characters or ships but if it wasn't clear i am darklina trash yes hello #this is a) a mess and b) far too long but it's what it says on the tin aka my incoherent garbage thoughts

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yellowreadsbooks · 4 years ago

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Yellow Reviews

The Secret History -Donna Tartt

Rating: 🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷/ 10

So this was a super interesting read. I knew a little about it already going into it but not much. I have a lot of opinions about this book and I have to say I've never read anything like it but then again I don't usually read this kind of novel too often. Overall, I loved the plot and the overall vibe and wordiness of it, but everything else is 😕 questionable.

Plot: 7.5

So the plot was really and truly the saving grace of this book for me. I think that it was gripping and compelling. From the very beginning you already know a huge point but you're blind to all the mechanisms on how to get there. The narrative structures is amazingly convenient to keeping the reader in the dark, since the MC is so goddamn unobservant, so the next step to the plot is always a mystery.

Ending/Epilogues: 3

Um I think I speak for everyone whose read this book when I say What The Fuck was that ending and epilogue. The end was sudden and abrupt and full of me screaming on the phone to a friend because I couldn't contain my shock at the final twist. What Richard says in the final pages of the book I think really describes it well. " not what one expected but once it happened it couldn't have ever been any other way."

Fuck the epilogue. I hate it so much it makes me livid honestly. I choose to ignore it and pretend Richard, Francis, and Camilla are living somewhere happy, warm, and together. The end.

Characters: 2

The interesting thing about this book is that? Everyone is objectively horrible and there's no one to root for especially towards the end of the book. Francis I feel is the only redeemable character and he got the shittiest of the possible stick. Camilla is questionable but objectively she still isn't quite ending out valid by the end.

Vibes: 9

Immaculate. Greek history, glorious quotes, dark academia at its finest. Bacchanals and blood. Books and billowing coats. Very gay.

Writing Style: 6

The writing style is generally pleasant and glides thru my mind easily. Very coherent and not difficult to dredge thru. Though it does follow a stream of consciousnespops. this is the only setting I allow 1st person povs. The small background moments between plot hold inexplicable humor. I think it could very easily be classified as a comedy if you squint. My only complaints are the text walls for pages when discussing the thought processes of philosophical reasoning and the endless 100+page chapters of continuous jumping thoughts.

Representation: 2

Everyone is white. :/ so meh... All of the men (bunny is not a man, he's a douchbag) in the series are continually just a little bit queer and all have romantic interactions with one another at one point, on page or mentioned and confirmed multiple times. Richard is so very obviously at least bisexual but refuses to admit it. His descriptions of Henry and Camilla throughout the book only drive it home. I'm pretty sure if you summed up all the descriptions Richard gives of Camilla thru the book she'd come out looking like Chris Evans.

#tsh #the secret history #richard papen #henry winter #francis abernathy #camilla macaulay #charles macaulay #bunny corcoran #julian morrow #judy poovey #dark academia #book review #rating: 4/10 #classicism #2021 reads #yellow reviews

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wexhappyxfew · 4 years ago

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HELLO LIL BEAN 💛 you already know who I’m here for eheh Death please!

LINDA AHHHH HELLO!!! :D Sorry that I’ve just been able to FINALLY get to this! My schoolwork load today was absolutely insane if I’m being quite honest and I already get distracted so easily, so the snow outside and just the everyday distractions of life aren’t that great either LOL!! But I AM FINISHED AND THE NIGHT IS MINE SO -- let’s get into it! In this post, we’ll be digging into Natia + Death’s relationship, and everything essentially surrounding their connection which, out of everyone and everything in the book remains ENTICING and one of the strongest - quite strange for someone like Natia and this personified being like Death right? ;)

I really liked the way this moodboard turned out, because just about every aspect encompasses a bit of Natia + Death’s relationship with one another AND SO - I will be going through each photo to discuss their relationship and bring it to life a bit! I thought this would be a fun way, to not only have a reference image, but also a description as to WHY I decided on the images for the moodboard that depicts their relationship so vividly! But let’s get a few things hit right off the bat first!

(1) Not once do Natia and Death communicate through words - one of the most powerful things about their connection with one another is simply that. They never speak one word to each other yet, they have one of the strongest relationships throughout the entire book because of simply the deep-seeded connection they hold with one another.

(2) This deep-seeded connection is really rooted in Day 1 after Natia witnesses the death of her parents - though not a scene in the book, it is referenced a various amount of times and is a moment Natia tends to think about more often than not in her time. It’s sort of my play on when Death comes to her and begins to pity her. Oh yes....there is a whole lot of pitying - and Natia HATES pitying...we know this ;)

(3) Agent Mortem is literally Agent ‘Death’ or the Agent of Death. I specifically chose Mortem as Agent Mortem’s codename simply because he really is this perceived Agent of Death in Natia’s eyes. I’m also a Latin Nerd and well, Latin nerds like this stuff HAHA! But truly, weaving that in and showing that not only is Death extremely important to Natia, but so is Agent Mortem (quite literally Death in his own way) has been super fun for me to craft and explore!

AND (4) I want to bring up Death’s connection with War. War is not a very prominent figure I decided to personify within the story, though he is basically the main center of attention lurking in the foreground as this is based in simply WAR! But War makes important appearances and almost in ways you maybe would’t quite expect him to. Number 1, War and Death dislike each other from the start and that’s just my own personal view on this entirely in my own story telling way. Number 2, Death says plenty of times how War makes all these decisions without second though and he has to clean up the mess yet he can’t pull himself away from someone (ahem...Natia) who essentially does much of the same. It’s a load of dramatic irony twisted with wordplay and phrases with double meanings that I LOVE!

(can you tell I’m such a nerd with this LMAOOO!!)

OKAY! Now that those are out of the way, let’s jump under the cut I have inserted to dissect the 9 pictures above - they won’t be super detailed (okay they kinda are lmao), just some reasons why those pictures are important, just for time’s sake! Let’s get into it!

PICTURE 1: “ can we act like we never broke each other’s hearts...” I really, really loved this aesthetic quote photo for many reasons as - not in a romantic sense - but more in it that 2 broken-hearted people are trying to mend one another and obviously fail at it....that sort of thing, and it’s quite interesting to craft. Natia can’t help but feel attached to Death, yet she is so immersed and surrounded by it and it has brought such an immense amount of pain to her being - but she can’t help but let His feeling remain, only letting her heart break further and His the same - he can’t pull away either.

PICTURE 2: “ two people, male and female, standing on the edges of cliffs, with an abyss in the center - darkness coming from the male’s side and light on the female’s “ WOW WOW WOW can I just say this is literally one of my favorites?! Before the war, Natia was not the Natia all the readers know and love currently - she was happy, she played PIANO, she was a CHILD, she was simply a little girl. There was light. Death always was darkness - darkness and sadness and grief and pain. And so, this picture really shows the beginning of their relationship - he brings he darkness and she lets him, she doesn’t fight it - BUT WAIT WHAT’S THAT??? AN ABYSS BETWEEN THEM??? Oohhh yet - you didn’t think I’d leave that one out now would ya? BUT THAT COMES FOR MUCH LATER - to a time in Bastogne particularly that is a spoiler - time will tell though!

PICTURE 3: ‘ I’m not even a whisper in your thoughts yet you’re the screaming in mine.’ All I gotta say is one word - Bastogne. Shit goes down in Bastogne and let’s just say a good portion is between Death and Natia - good or bad who knows, but it goes DOWN. I can’t elaborate much as it is spoiler-filled, but come back again once we hit Bastogne, we can chat again on this picture - I got a whole LOAD of info on it!

PICTURE 4: ‘ Cloaked figure ‘ I am actually delving deeper into Krysta’s ask with this picture, BUT when creating Death, I actually created a picture in my mind - from the beginning I wanted to make it a man, just for the dynamic that would be between Natia and Him and to show Him in a different light! But let’s just say (you’ll find more on the ask I answer for Krysta when I post it) cloaks are a MUST for Death - why might you ask? Why must he be portrayed in a cloak AHAHAH - you’ll see!

PICTURE 5: “Courage meets Death” I LOVE this entire picture aesthetic so so much for Landslide. In a way, Natia, in my eyes is Courage and Death is well Death. It relates back to picture 2 big time with the whole light v dark contrast that I discussed, but it’s not an overpowering of the other quite here - more of an agreement like you can vibe with me and I’ll vibe with you and we’ll leave it to that for the moment. Like Natia fighting Death - connections perhaps?! ;) They’re equals here and equals is what they’ll always be - never more, never less - Death and Natia or in this sense Death and Courage remain equals.

PICTURE 6: “black, grey and white female + crying image” This is more of a representation of Natia - showing the world she sort of sees - not exactly color, but not entirely black and white - more grey, sort of like her character in a sense OR IF WE LIKE TO VIEW IT THIS WAY - the morally grey character that controls her....ahem Agent Mortem....who quite literally sees the world in grey. Just a little play on an idea like that, which is super fun!

PICTURE 7: ‘I broke my rules for you.” OH BOY THIS ONE JUST SCREAMS DEATH TO ME! I reference quite a few times for Death this sort of rule book he has for himself, a bit later on in the book and he says quite a few times as well that even He broke his rules for Natia - he kept her from Death more than once and kept her safe. He is simply DEATH, yet he goes and protects another from it? From HIMSELF? Yet he drifts so near? .....yep that’s exactly how it is. He broke her rules for her - nearly everyone - to protect her from Him.

PICTURE 8: ‘Death’s hand holding a mortals clenched’ So I really played around with perspective on the moodboard here and purposely made the strip down the center show Death’s side as the left and Natia’s as the right and meeting in the center! This image portrays the control Death seems to hold on Natia at times - her mind consumed and intoxicated by him and in the most recent chapter (Weapons Don’t Weep - *26) we seen right at the end, that admist the chaos, there stands Death, the shutting of his eyes as a way to attempt to silence the chaos for her - yet he is the reason for her having to bear all this chaos. It’s quite an intense dynamic, but very true their relationship!

PICTURE 9: ‘flirting with Death’ Okay, we all know Natia is confident in her own capabilities and who she is and let’s just say, she brushes a little too close to Death’s touch for many of her friends and family’s liking. In no way is this portrayed in a romantic sense, but more of in the sense that Natia’s ‘flirting’ with Death is almost a clear want from it, no matter how much Death tries his best to protect her from him. Yet they draw so close to one another which complicates things. It only adds more to the complexity of their connection with one another but is truthful in so many ways!

#band of brothers #landslide #bob fic #natia filipska #natia filipska/death #connection + relationship #symbols and motifs #we love a good symbol of death #yes yes he is my absolute favorite symbol out of the entirety of the fic i can agree with that!!!!#and THIS WAS SO FUN OMG LIKE???? SO SO FUN!!! AHHHH

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ijustchangedmyname · 4 years ago

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Menajerimi Ara Episode 10- A Few Thoughts (Or A Rant)

Okay, so I've been watching Menajerimi Ara for a few weeks and the reaction to the last episode was what made my feelings boil over and finally forced me to voice my thoughts. I was taking numerous notes while watching which were mostly me fangirling over Dicle and Feris but I hope I sound coherent.

I'd like to start off with how much I adore Dicle. I have loved many female characters over the years (e.g recently Eda and Ceren, of Sen Çal Kapımı) but Dicle is the one I relate most to. It was her character that drew me into the story and kept me hooked. I love that she's sensitive, expressive, hardworking, quietly confident yet humble. She cries but she keeps powering through. I absolutely adore her and just want to follow her story to see her succeeding and being happy.

Rating War and Social Media

The reason that really made me write was the brief snippet I got into the fandom's reaction while going through twitter to follow the live translation. I very rarely go to twitter for fan discourse because it's too fast and crazy for my taste.

While I am glad that the day change grabbed ratings and the social media fandom is crucial in getting their views heard and making the hashtags trend, I was genuinely surprised by the few tweets I passed over regarding Emir's introduction and how the tracks were being written.

I completely agree that the writing did seem contrary at times to me. The characters seemed to be taking inconsistent decisions on the whim of the writer just to cause drama. Also, the it was more focused on the personal lives of the managers rather than the industry drama.

All of this just reinforced the reactive and extremely volatile nature of the Turkish TV Industry and the instant lashing. But it made me realise how rigid we as an audience have become.

People arguing that they want the original writing and arcs, and especially "Dicbar", while at the same time arguing that the real reason they're watching is not for the romance but the industry behind the scenes.

This was particularly reflected in the reading of Emir's character and twisting his actions - partly by the writer because he was introduced entirely as part of a triangle- to make him out to be a controlling person who will prove to be an abusive partner. I mean the reach. It leached all joy out of watching for me.

I dearly hope the writer does NOT take this direction and turn him into a psychopath or a typical antagonist down the road.

Viewing Experience

@howaboutbucky writes AMAZING reviews of the episodes and I wait eagerly for her insights each week. In her last one regarding Episode 9, she hit the nail on the head again. *chef's kiss*

I'd like to build upon what she mentioned regarding MA going the dark path of only trying to bank on woman on woman hate and tension by writing Gulin and especially Beren as they have been doing. I think Dizis suffer the same issue that romance novels in general do. The primary audience is women and it invites alot of scrutiny of women's actions by women themselves. Everything is nitpicked.

What truly angers me though is that even here if men are secondary characters or evil or have no growth arc they are still given a free pass to dwell in more shades of grey than female characters ever do. Because the writers are busy writing cliche tracks and we as an audience are busy picking it apart while male characters get to enjoy even the benefits of being ignored.

Dicle and Selflessness

As I said, Dicle has been my absolute favourite character and I loved that they had managed to balance this quality so far. However, I feel like she is going to fall victim to the 'melek gibi' leads that usually populate dizis. Her selflessness was bordering on stupidity in this episode. I liked how her honesty and goodness was shown as positive in the Burcin episode while in the first one her good intentions with Tuba backfired. How she was going to give up her job to make Kyrach's life easier but then decided that she wouldn't. I loved that she referred to "becoming a little shark" at that point as Kyrach had predicted. I wish the show would keep this balance and show Dicle's greatest strength is her greatest weakness and how she struggles to retain her integrity in the industry. That is what made me emotional.

In this episode, it didn't make me feel, her "selfless" decisions made me mad. What put me off even further was how everyone kept lauding her selflessness, as if the audience would'nt have caught on had not every character bashed us over the head with it. It was as bad as everyone apologising to Beren.

I actually would've like if they portrayed how Dicle's decisions were actually mostly selfish. Who is she to tell Barış to go make up with Beren? As a friend, that is overstepping a line. Her asking Kyrach to make sure Beren was not fired was a way to make herself not feel guilty.

The only time I thought Dicle was being herself was when she balked after finding out Feris had brought her to set to be apologised to. Dicle HAS been established as wanting to avoid conflict since the start. Emir was right on about that.

Barış

Honestly, I wish they'd give us more insight into Barış career, have him do fun friend things with Dicle or just not show him atall and we'll assume he's off with Beren or his friends or whatever. To have him just stand around and be jealous is agonising. @likeablehades and @nawaazishein did a wonderful post about Barış recently. I loved his character since the start, not to ship but just to follow his growth.

Emir

Right off the bat, Emir was written to be the complete opposite of Barış in his mannerisms, in everyway. And you know what? I liked it. I was excited by it. We were going to see another younger actor's experience close up, who was confident and comfortable with his stardom.

I wanted to find out his backstory and what kind of struggles he might face. I sincerely hope that we get to know him more not just in a love triangle but as having a growth arc of his own. I think just using him as a triangle is a reductive reading of his character by the writer. (and the audience)

I love that he's slightly icy yet straightforward. He seems mature and not emotionally constipated??

I'm sincerely hoping we get to delve more into his character and see how his and Dicle's arcs intertwine.

Parallels

I'd like to mention Barış and how he shows emotion. He has said himself that a scream builds inside him. It's interesting how he initially comes off as impulsive yet on closer examination he actually refrains from reacting right away most of the time, especially with Dicle and what we see is him hitting breaking point due to repressed feelings and then taking rash decisions.

In a way I find him similar to Dicle that he avoids confrontation, especially romantic, unless pushed hard. Throughout Barış doesnot show his emotions in the moment. He only broke up with Beren through a scene they were doing.

Perhaps it's a side effect of being an actor. He takes his craft seriously; analysing a scene, understanding a character and then embodying the emotion that fits. I think it carries over to him receding into an observer role in key situations (such as with Dicle on the terrace in Ep 10) and trying to decide the perfect response.

Another thing is how Dicle and Emir parallels Dicle and Barış; thete is a role reversal for Dicle.

I think we tend to get too attached to the first love interest. Personally, I'd love it if Barış and Dicle actually became great friends. (although a waste of chemistry :"( )

From the start, Dicle went into that relationship expecting something romantic and I never felt that she was equal. Whereas with Emir she has always been professional. Dicle doesn't avoid confrontation with Emir ever since he openly pointed out he was testing her. She never gives under pressure.

With no expectations, it feels more of an equal push and pull in their interactions even if they are not romantic.

Some random thoughts I had while watching:

- Dicle looks FIRE in all her scenes. 😭😭😭❤❤❤❤

-Emir is so firmly in the clientzone lol.

- So Dicle is 22, Emir is 28. How old is Barış?

-I love the head wagging Chynar does everytime he's happy and something has been accomplished!!! (at Dicle after she told Burcin the truth and at Kyrach when he told him about Buse being hired.)

-I do womder why Barış doesn't have any friends? :"(

-Aah Feris ahh canim benim.

- I wish we'd get to see small snippets of Dicle talk to her mother more. Not only when she has a problem. I'd love to see what she says to Leyla about her work mom.

-"Other girls might like it." I don't understand why we have to put down other girls in order to be considered strong.

- Julide serving looks!!

- Honestly why is Barış with Beren?????

He has no interest. None of the younger people are in love in this show, it's just infatuation. Beren and Dicle's with Barış.

- Ugghh Deniz Can Aktaş ♡♡♡ That head movement he does as Barış. And the smile. I adore.

- Meral suggesting a BECHAMEL BOOK LMAAOO

-Is "you didn't answer my question" going to be Emir and Dicle's "phrase"?

I love that she's buying a cookbook aaah!!

- And most importantly- WHO IS LEAKING INFORMATION??!!!!!

I can't shake the feeling that it is Gulin.

#menajerimi ara #dicle #barış #baris #emir #Barış Havas #Rant #analysis #mini lb #feris #chinar #kyrach #thoughts

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austennerdita2533 · 3 years ago

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Hey! Hope all is well!! First of all, thank you for all the links to save money on books. I checked them out and plan to use some with buying books!! And don’t worry I have other self-restraint issues-mine come more from the fact that I get bored easily so I have about 4-5 books going at the same time. That way I can switch up genres when I need it (for instance I always have a fantasy, a romance, and a dark romance all available to me at the same time because those are my favorites) but sometimes more than one of the genres too. I also am terrible at following a tbr for instance I have been wanting to read Ugly Love for months now but then as I get closer to finishing a book a different book grabs my attention and must be read asap. But to prevent money spending I just browse through kindle and download a free sample of books I want to try instead of buying them right away. Plus I have a rule with myself that I have to read the first 10% of the book that the free sample gives me before I buy anything because at that point I can tell if I like the writing style, the potential story, etc. Just because I don’t want to buy a book and not finish it so I don’t want to waste my money and time. It has worked well so far! I mean there really has only been one book (well series) that I did not buy because I could not even get through a chapter (unfortunately that was the from blood and ash series which I know is a big hit but personally the writing style just was not for me)but it still saved me money!!

I heard about the Book of Night by Holly Black I am really looking forward to it!! I have other friends who adore Jurdan so we are all pumped to see her take on an adult romance and the summary sounded really cool!!

I will have to check out Anxious People for sure!!

But anyway I finally finished The Atlas Six!! Honestly I would have finished it sooner but I got into a romance mood so I went and read both Birthday Girl, Punk 57, and Credence by Penelope Douglas. Definitely recommend Birthday Girl if you like age gap relationships-it is a big one though so if those are not for you I do not recommend it. Punk 57 was okay, I was expecting a little more out of it than I got and I only read it since they were pen pals and I love letter writing but there was not a whole lot of that. And Credence well Credence is what it is LOL it is SUPER taboo and not for everyone and I feel slightly ashamed to say I enjoyed it, but I do not know you well enough on a personal basis to say read it or not read it because well it is wild and it is really a book that I think you love or you epically hate and think people are insane for liking. So look up at your own risk.

But did you end up finishing atlas six?? I do not want to talk about it unless you finished it!! What were your thoughts on the characters/plot/ships?? I am super excited about the future of it!! Olivie confirmed it will be a trilogy recently. I think the next book comes out next year. I also want to start some of her other books like Alone With You in the Ether. I just really enjoyed her writing style and the way she develops characters.

Can’t wait to talk about it with you once you get through it!!

-ACOTAR anon

Hello, hello! I'm embarrassed it's taken me so long to get back to you, I apologize! I haven't had access to WiFi the last week and a half so I haven't been on here much. I went away with two of my closest girlfriends and we were busy laughing, chatting, and goofing the time away--pretty standard with us, tbh. We're a bunch of Chatty Kathy's whenever we're around each other. 😄

But yayyy! I'm so happy you might be able to use some of those money saving book sites. They've been a godsend for me, truly. I mean, I still spend double what I ought on books but at least I can rationalize it because I know I'm saving some money lol. That's smart of you to have established that rule where you read 10% of the sample first before you buy the book. I might have to try that. I hate when I buy a book only to find myself disappointed because I don't enjoy the writing style or the story. I do usually read excerpts, but they're not always long enough for me to tell if I might like something or not.

I'm sorry you didn't care for the From Blood and Ash series. That seems to be hit or miss for a lot people. I believe I have the first two books on my Kindle (which I scored cheaply from Kindle Daily Deals lol) so I will get into it at some point. I'm curious which way I will land.

I don't know how people only read one book at a time. (No hate, just amazed lol.) Like you, I usually have at least 2, sometimes 3 or 4, books in rotation because I want to slip into different genres depending on my mood. And also depending on the time of day. Sometimes I prefer to read fantasies or thrillers during the day because they're exciting. I don't want to stop reading. Now, romances and non-fiction I will read at night, before bed. They're good genres to lull me to sleep with their facts and/or fluffiness.

I'm gonna have to check out Penelope Douglas. I'm not that familiar with her writing, but I'm always looking for new romance authors. You seemed so shy/embarrassed about liking Credence that I HAD to go and look up the summary lolol. You can't say "taboo" and then have me not investigate. My interest is piqued! The polyamory angle sounds fun. I've only read it in fic for the most part so this one's going on the tbr. As is Birthday Girl with the age gap. They both sound deliciously promising!

Something to know about me when it comes to books, to reading: I'm a daredevil. There's literally nothing I won't try at least once. There are times I balk AT MYSELF for the things I pick up knowingly, willingly, but I never regret it. Not even when I read something disturbing enough to give me nightmares. Which has definitely happened. 😂

And yes, I have finished The Atlas Six. I tore through that book so fast! I kept sneaking reading it when I was supposed to be doing other things. I loved that it was a character-driven fantasy because those are my favorite. And the magical system is so cool! It's such a creative blend of science and magic--like, the way she embedded particle physics and the multiverse into everything set my nerd flag flying like you wouldn't believe haha. The characters all have that morally gray Six of Crows vibe to them, too. They're enigmatic. Hard to pin down. They're all thrown together out of necessity not because they like each other, and it was fun to see how attachments did or did not form. I liked Callum the least. However, he's also one of the characters who intrigues me the most because I have no idea wtf he wants. There's no way to parse what his endgame is right now besides self-preservation. Nico is a conceited wise ass, so naturally I love him. Parisa and Reina both terrify me for different reasons. Parisa screams I AM A SIREN so I don't want to tread too close to her. Reina, I think, is going to just, like, detonate the whole planet at some point. She has so much untapped power. Tristan grew on me the most. I didn't care for him much in the beginning because he was an asshole, but then little by little, his layers start to peel back and you see how much he cares. How much he feels. Libby I related to a lot because I've spent most of my life feeling like an outcast like her. And the fact that she's constantly battling inadequacy--oof! That hit me.

As far as ships go, sheesh, I gotta say I'm conflicted! I feel like there are so many different directions the author could go??? It's rare for me not to know where the romance is headed, even this early on in the series, but I really don't.

Parisa and Dalton seem to be the most obvious ship right now. Even so, there's something dark, something dangerous and unknown lurking there so I don't know if that'll work out. Nico and Libby have the enemies-to-lovers type banter and dynamic that I love to gobble up. They're a lot of fun. I enjoy their scenes a lot. It's interesting that they're bound/connected in their powers, too. I can't wait to learn more about that. I'd be totally fine if they went romantic...but then I'm also picking up a vibe between him and his roommate. So I don't know what to think? I could get behind Libby and Tristan as well. Their unresolved tension leaps - literally LEAPS - off the page and I like how their dynamic progressed from dislike (on his end) to respect to something more...well, undefinable as of yet. There's palpable sexual/emotional energy between them, though, for sure. Callum seems to genuinely care about Tristan but he's been so damn manipulative! He'd have to jump through some hoops for me to get on board.

As you can see I babble a LOT when I get excited haha.

Anyway, what about you? Do you have any favorite characters or ships so far? That twist at the end was pretty good, don't you think? It blew the whole story wide open. I'm so looking forward to the rest of the trilogy.

Can't wait to hear your thoughts! xx

#anonyous #darling acotar anon #replies #the loveliest of lovely people #ashlee bree talks books

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xfandomwritingsx · 5 years ago

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The Sweet of Night – Loki Laufeyson – Part 2

-gif source unknown-

Description: After growing up besides Loki and having a complicated friendship with him, you visit him in his cell at night.

Warnings/Labels: None. Unless Loki is his own warning.

Approx. Word Count: 2,500

A/N: Yeah… I totally just got myself into another slow burn series here. Buckle up, my darlings.

You resist for a mere three nights and you hate yourself for not having a stronger will. You pride yourself on being a strong woman. You should have been able to stop yourself. On the other hand, there is nothing wrong with going to visit Loki and if it’s what you want to do, why stop yourself? You use this justification as you pull your robe tighter around you in the dark corridor leading to the cells. The guards, again, say nothing as you pass.

He lays on his cot in the same position as before, reading the same book, but on an earlier page. Rereading it then. Did he enjoy it that much or did he lack options, you wonder. He doesn’t give you much time to ponder it. He shuts the book, without marking a spot this time, and tosses it in a haphazard manner onto his nightstand.

“You are a wonderfully horrible liar, my dear,” he greets, his voice that infuriating shade of smooth. You force your composure and again fold your hands in front of you.

“I thought it cruel to leave you alone,” you tell him calmly. It’s not a lie. Perhaps it’s not the full truth, but a lie it is not. “Even those like you deserve company.” His eyes are amused.

“So noble.” Sarcasm drips from his words so thickly that you’re surprised they did not accompany an eye roll. He pauses in thought, face shifting into something more pensive as he sits up and faces you. “Do you fear me lonely?” You can sense the danger in the seemingly simple question, the dozens of ways he can twist and turn your answer into whatever he deems fit.

“I only know that I would be incredibly lonely if I were locked away,” you tell him. “And I’m not beyond showing you kindness.

“And what about them?” He sweeps his hand out, motioning to the prison cells behind and around you. “Will you be extending them the same kindness once you’re through here with me?” You feel mocked. You have to stop yourself from bowing your head in belittlement and instead simply cast your eyes down.

“If you wish me not to come, you only need say so.” You cringe at how pathetic and defeated your voice sounds.

“That is not what I said.” He stands from his bed and starts a slow approach to the barrier wall. You continue to look away from him, but the exasperation starts to set in.

“Then perhaps you should say what you mean.” He furrows his brow, stopping in his advance and you snap your eyes to him, annoyed by his play at innocence. “You speak in twists and turns that leave everyone around you guessing at riddles and piecing together puzzles. To make it even more infuriating, you coat it all with charisma and charm. It’s both endearing and vexing.” Your folded hands fall apart and your eyes cast away again. “I just wish for you to speak plainly. To tell me what you want.”

There’s a pause as he considers your words. Another prisoner is snoring somewhere else within the cells and the sound fills your ears. You pinch your eyes closed, hating the way you want nothing more than to smother whoever is making that ridiculously loud noise. You take a deep breath to ease the irritation prickling your skin. This is not what you came for.

“I do not want your kindness,” Loki tells you. Something inside of you crumbles, but you keep your composure. At least you can go to bed now. You resolve to turn and leave, but he keeps speaking. “I do not wish to be another tally mark in your book of good deeds. I do not desire pity.” His voice is cold and composed, carefully concealing a soft, delicate fear. You look back at him, an apology nipping at your tongue. You take a moment to find the right words, to swallow the instinctual apology and find a new course.

“I’m not here out of pity.” You anticipate his next question and rush to find a suitable answer. Then why are you here? Gods, what was the answer?

“I enjoy your company, just as I always have,” he says instead, starting once again to slowly walk towards you. “So I offer you a deal. An agreement.”

“I’m listening.” It’s intriguing and a little terrifying, honestly. What in the worlds does he have up his sleeve?

“You come to me whenever you like. There is only one rule.” He stops in front of the barrier and you’re not entirely sure if you have a desire to step away or step towards him. “Honesty.” Your mind knows it sounds like a deception, a lure to ease into something. You just don’t know what. You should not be so captivated. “Our conversations and interactions are to be honest. No trickery.” He motions to himself. “No lies.” He motions to you and the look in his eyes dares you to be offended. You ponder it for a moment, trying to discover his loophole.

“This sounds like a ploy to get me to answer inappropriate questions.” A genuine smile breaks out onto his lips and puts you at ease.

“Saying you do not wish to answer a question or speak about a particular subject is still being honest.” He was correct and in saying so, in allowing you to remove yourself from any conversation you don’t want to be in, he anchors a little more trust from you. “So what do you say, my darling?”

“What do you get out of all of this?” You’re still not fully convinced there’s not a hidden motive behind his alluring demeanor. You want to trust him, feeling that metaphorical pull towards him that’s brought you right here.

“As I said, I enjoy your company.” He shrugs and motions back to his end table. “Drab history books filled with knowledge already known only do so much to cure boredom.” He turns back to you, taking another step closer to the barrier. “The companionship of an old friend is not so undesirable.” Even though he manages to make it sound as least complimentary as possible, there’s a warm happiness that fills you at his admission.

“On that, we can agree.” You give him a friendly smile and for the first time in what feels like a long time, it’s genuine and makes you feel relaxed. You’re only slightly surprised to see he returns it.

“So am I to assume that since you find yourself in enough boredom these past nights to be here with me, that your mother hasn’t managed to marry you off yet?” he inquires, causing a truly amused laugh to bubble out of you.

“Oh but how she’s tried,” you tell him. “The law still remains that she lacks the authority to arrange a marriage without my consent. This hasn’t stopped her from arranging many meetings however.” Loki enjoys the roll of your eyes. “I feel as though I’ve met every available nobleman in Asgard by now.”

“None to your liking?” There’s something that sounds like pleasure in his tone. You consider questioning if he’d be jealous if you had a suitor, but it’s so light and subtle that you’re almost sure you’d imagined it. And even if he would be, Loki’s jealousy is certainly nothing to swoon at.

“None worth marrying,” you say simply. There are many fine men around, some even intriguing and tempting, but none of them had yet proven to be a suitable future husband. It isn’t like you’re actively looking either, but your mother pushes the notion.

“And what of Thor?” You furrow your brow.

“What of him?” Loki gives a tilt with his chin, curious at your confusion.

“Has he not proposed?” He asks so plainly, as though it was an obvious thing. Your jaw hangs agape and you scoff out a laugh at the very idea. His look of confusion remains.

“Thor?” His name is no more than a laugh on your tongue. Loki must be joking, right? The raise in his eyebrows, indicating he’s expecting an answer, says otherwise. “Why in the heavens would he propose to me? He has that Midgardian woman he’s completely infatuated with as much as he tries to deny it.” A dawning of realization washes over his face and he smiles like he would to a child who made a foolish, but humorous error. “What?” you ask exasperatedly, arms crossing over your chest.

“I certainly did not mean to imply any romantic relations between the two of you. That would end mundanely for you at best, disastrous at worst.” He shakes his head, ridding the idea. “As king, Thor does not have the privilege of marrying for any reason besides political. Romance is removed from the equation entirely.”

“And marrying me would be a wise political move?” You feel strange even thinking about being married to Thor. The reason behind it need not matter.

“I didn’t intend on making you queen because you’d look nice on my arm,” he tells you in an even, serious tone before a smirk graces his lips and a sparkle comes to his eye. “Although… you would look good next to me.” You can’t help but smile as you roll your eyes and turn your head away from him. His flirtation feels good. It feels nostalgic even and easily slips you back into old times, makes it so simple to forget everything that’s happened, as though no time has passed. You uncross your arms and relax a little more.

“Perhaps I’d look even finer standing next to Thor,” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.

“Oooh,” he hisses, feigning offense and tilting his head. His smirk doesn’t leave his face. “He does not suit you in nearly the same way.” You turn your head back to look at him with raised eyebrows.

“And yet you suggest I marry him?” His smirk finally settles and he shifts back to his more serious nature as easily as a snake slithers into grass.

“You would make a wonderful queen.” The honesty in his voice is powerful, almost physically so, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Your intelligence, strength, and kindness intermix in just the right way to make you the perfect candidate. Your duty and moral compass always point you towards the best for the people of Asgard, which is exactly what it needs in a queen.” You’re not sure anyone has ever given you such a high honor of a compliment and he says it as though it’s as obvious as the stars. A blush touches your cheeks and you shift your weight from foot to foot, unsure of a proper way to respond.

“Well,” you falter, blowing out a breath and forcing a laugh. “Wouldn’t that thrill my mother?” He smiles gently at your jest.

“You can consider thrilling your mother as a perk,” he suggests lightly. You chuckle and run a hand through your hair, mussing it slightly just to give yourself something to do other than take another step towards him, which you find yourself doing anyways.

“Well, Loki,” you sigh. “I do believe you’re the only one who has ever had the notion of putting myself on a throne.” There’s a glimmer in his eyes that draws you closer.

“Oh, you don’t know how wrong you are,” he nearly whispers, watching you approach the wall until you’re standing as close as you can without your toes brushing it. In return, he approaches the same. “I confess the idea was not originally mine.” He looks down at you and watches as this time, you’re the first to bring your hand up to the wall. He doesn’t hesitate in placing his own over the image of yours, the need for physical contact bubbling within you both. “But when the current queen puts forth a suggestion for her successor, you listen. And if you’re smart, you tend to find she’s right.”

You can’t prevent the small, sharp gasp that comes from you. Frigga suggested you as queen? It sounds absurd. You do not have much interaction with her and yet she apparently values you enough to suggest such an important role.

Loki watches you carefully, gently as you process his words. He’s quiet, letting you soak it in and doesn’t try to pull you back to him. He notices your eyes drift to your hands and he rotates his on the wall, turning his fingers to the side of your palm as if to hold onto you. You can feel the particles of the barrier vibrating between you as he curls his fingers.

Your focus shifts from thoughts of queens to the feeling of wanting to touch him so badly. You and he were never extremely physical before in your day-to-day, but now that he’s behind a wall, it seems all you want to do is be able to touch him. A part of you still feels as though he’s a ghost, an illusion. If you could feel his solidity in your hands, perhaps that feeling would fade.

“I can see your mind churning, pet,” he says softly, finally breaks your thoughts. You’ve drifted into a bit of a trance and are unsure quite how long you had been simply watching your hands. “What is it you’re thinking about?” You hesitate, unsure of how to answer and how to answer honestly.

“You don’t feel real,” you tell him in a whisper. When you let your eyes leave your hands and look up at him, it feels a foolish thing to have said. He looks very much real behind the yellow flicker of the wall with his eyes examining you so delicately.

“I assure you,” he breathes softly, shifting so he’s nearly pressing against the wall. “I am very much real.”

The prisoner’s snore returns, shaking you from the little, intimate bubble Loki has wrapped you in. There’s a brief look of frustration when you duck your head and lean away from him. Your hand remains on the wall and his fingers instinctively bend as though to hold onto your hand and keep you near.

“It’s late,” you tell him, you voice a little louder and clear. “I should let you get your rest.” He chuckles, but lets his hand fall away from yours.

“I’m in a cell for the rest of my days. Rest is not something I’m short on.” He tilts his head in amusement and steps back, allowing you the strength to do the same. “However, if you’re concerned about the hour, perhaps you visit earlier next time,” he suggests.

“You wish me to stay longer?” Even you’re not sure if you’re teasing him or truly inquiring. He continues to step back, retracting further into his cell towards his cot.

“As I’ve said, your company is not undesirable.” He sits down and reaches for his book, silently dismissing you. “We shall meet again soon, I’m sure.”

#loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson

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