#YES I FELT THE URGE TO CREATE MORE WORK FOR MYSELF

[igbylicious]

me: hm fandom is always so exhausting for me even tho it's fun :( i gotta figure out a way to be in this space so it costs less energy & it won't constantly exacerbate my chronic bullshit :(

me later: okay so reviving my old ateez blog @wooyoungslipmole to reblog gifsets, art, memes etc etc works really well! (/blatant plug-in) i can easily mute the blog's notifs to manage the overstim better and i'm not flooded w/ small, flashing images in my writing blog's activity anymore so it's less of a strain to look at! yay, progress!

me, who should have stopped there: huh, maybe then a separate blog for fic recs is also smart 🤔

me: and it's also a nice excuse to finally create an actual tagging system so ppl can search recs by members! and by genre! and whether it's reader insert or not! and oneshots or series! maybe i should tag different types of au's too? 🤔🤔

me: AND OH WHAT IF, WHAT IF, what if i go through all my old recs and queue them up for the new blog so they're neatly gathered in one place, AND i rotate them by member so there's a nice even spread in content!!! and i should also spread out the writers too so they don't get spammed too much. yes yes let's do this 👍 hmm wait i've got like 80 fics in my queue now and i'm not sure if i have any recs left for certain members... i knew i'd have more for some than for others but this... hm... maybe i should tally which members are in the remaining 90 fic so i know what the exact disparity is 🤔 oh dang i read a LOT more San fic than i realised lol oop okay so all i gotta do is dig through my tumblr tbr for the other members and read massive amounts of fic for them so i can keep my queue nice and balanced! yeah lately i've felt too blocked to read anything on tumblr, that's true, but having a deadline will make all the difference to kick my brain back into gear, i'm sure 👍 brute-forcing it will have no negative consequences 👍 let's start wi— wait what do you mean it's 2am already? why is my brain all frazzled and foggy???

me: ...okay maybe, just maybe, it's not fandom that's exhausting.........

[darkbluekies]

In our own world

Yandere!king OC x fem!reader

Summary: You're bored and Edmund decides to create his own little excluded world where you and him can spend some valuable quality time, just you and him.

Warnings: obsession, isolation, Edmund thinking that he is better than everyone else (power dynamics?)

Word count: 2.1k

Oh how bored you are. You've been sitting in the large window for what feels like an eternity by now. Maybe you could ask the maids to entertain you? No, that won't work. Edmund has said that none other than him are allowed to be with you unless he's said otherwise. Maybe … maybe you could ask Edmund to do something? Maybe he could let you … go out for a little?

You jump down from the window and leave the chamber. Wherever you walk in the halls, maids and butlers stop to bow at you and wish you a good day. At first, you found it soothing that someone acknowledged your presence, but now you find them creepy. 

You reach Edmund’s office and are met by a guard standing outside.

"Can I speak to him?" you ask.

"He's busy, your majesty", the guard replies.

"Please?"

"You shouldn't disturb the king. He was very persistent on that no one should talk to him before he's done with his work."

"Oh … okay …"

"Can it wait?"

You force a smile. "Yes, it can."

"Very well."

In defeat, you turn around to leave. The guard walks into the office to check up on the king.

"Who were you talking to?" Edmund asks without looking up from his desk. "Fuck all of these papers make me insane!"

"It was the queen, your majesty", the guard answers.

Edmund snaps his head up, his heart skipping a beat. You've finally come to him? 

"What did she want?" he asks quickly.

"She just wanted to speak with you", the guard answers. "Nothing more. She said that it could wait so I sent her away. I know how you said that you didn't want to be disturbed-"

"You fucking idiot! That rule implies for everyone but her. Go get her."

"... yes, your highness."

The guard runs out of the room, sensing that he's upset the king. Edmund sighs frustratedly, shaking his head. 

He returns with you by his side just a minute later. Carefully, he walks out and shuts the door behind him. Edmund smiles fondly as he sees you. You're so pretty.

"I heard you wanted to talk to me", he says softly.

"It was nothing important", you say. 

"Yes, it was. Come here."

He pats his lap. You walk over to him slowly and sit down on his thigh. Edmund smiles and wraps his arm around your waist securely.

"What did you want to say to me?" he smiles up at you.

"I was just bored", you say and shrug. "I was wondering if you wanted to do something but you're busy. I don’t want to disturb you."

Edmund sighs and looks over the papers drowning his desk. Why does he have to be a king?

"I am", he mumbles regretfully. "I'd love to spend time with you, my jewel, but if I don't complete this before tonight the Supreme Court will grill my ass."

"It's okay … I'll entertain myself. I'm good at it."

Edmund bites his lip, thinking.

"If I hurry up, will you wait for me?" he asks and squeezes your waist carefully. "We can do something together later. Why don’t you come up with something fun to do in the meantime?"

“I want to go out”, you say. “For a little while.”

Edmund grabs your cheeks in his hand and smiles cheekily. 

“You are not allowed outside, dearest”, he says with his eyebrows raised in that condescending tone you hate — sounds like he’s talking to a child. “You’re far too precious to be spoiled by the outside world.”

You sigh and fight back the urge to slap him. 

“Go wait in the bedroom and I’ll come get you when I’m done”, he says, giving you a sweet push towards the doors. “If any of the guards give you any problem, you come back and tell me.”

You nod. Edmund smile drops once you leave. He can’t believe how his own guard turned you away. You must have felt so shocked and humiliated. Edmund’s heart breaks at the thought. He clenches his jaw. If you want to go outside, then you shall. 

You must have fallen asleep because when you open your eyes, Edmund’s kneels down in front of the bed, caressing your hair. 

“Y/N, my queen, why don’t you come with me?” he smiles. 

“Are you done now?” you ask and yawn. 

“Yes, I am. And I have something for you. Won’t you come with me?”

You get up from bed and follow him out of the room. He leads you through magnificent corridors, out to the backyard. You stop at the sight. A set table with flowers, pastries and tea. It’s taken directly out of a fairytale.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

He looks genuinely excited. Edmund loves to do these kinds of stuff. He’s never had anyone to surprise or impress before, but now that he has … it has become something he enjoys.   

“I love it”, you answer, still in shock. “Why did you suddenly change your mind?”

“I mean … this isn’t the outside world”, Edmund shrugs. “So I thought that is wouldn’t be too bad. This is our own little world. You can still see the sun, but you’re not tainted by the townsfolk. I guess I can let you be here. But only when I am too.”

You look around, seeing the high brick wall that keeps you locked in. You can tell guards are watching every corner. Edmund takes you to the table and holds out a chair for you. You sit down and start to search the table for what you should start with. 

“I’ve told the maids to stay away”, he says and lifts the teapot. “I want to do everything myself.”

You want to crack a joke about how he’s never touched his own utensils before, but you keep it in. It’s probably not a good timing. He seems to be in a good mood for once, you shouldn’t destroy it. He pours you some tea and holds out the cookie tray for you. 

“Eat as much as you like, my jewel”, Edmund says. “We have enough to feed the entire village here. Not that they will get any. Why would anyone unimportant deserve this kind of food? Pathetic. These kinds of meals are reserved for the important people.”

Pleasant as always.

“Thank you for bringing me out here …”, you say hesitantly after a while of awkward silence. “I’ve missed being outside.”

“You’re welcome”, Edmund smiles with a smile. “If you’re happy, then I am too.”  He breathes out and looks around. “Such a shame I’m always busy or we could spend all of our time together … just like this.”

You don’t answer. You’re not sure what you think about the idea. It’s not like you wanted to go to him for company. You had no other choice. He kills everyone you want to talk to. 

“Do you feel lonely without me?” he asks while keeping his eyes on the spoon he slowly moves around in his teacup. 

“I feel lonely, but I’m not sure it has so much to do with you … just overall”, you answer hesitantly. “It’s a big castle with lots of people I don’t know … everything is frightening and big …”

“It’s not dangerous for you. Only at night. But you’re safe if you stay in the parts assigned to you. You know better than to wander around.”

Oh, you know.

Suddenly, you hear a melody coming from afar. You look up, trying to find where the music is originating from. Edmund does the same and then breaks out into a small smile.

"Right, there were some things in the village today", he says, shaking his head slightly. "I should have told them to cut it out."

"What are they doing?" you ask.

"Partying. Something they don't have time for now that it’s harvest time."

He's about to stand up and tell a guard to get rid of the sound, but your hand shoots out, placing over his before you can think. He looks down at you, shock written all over his face.

"Please let them be", you beg. "They should get a break from their jobs and have some fun. They're humans. Besides … I kind of like the melody."

Edmund sighs heavily and nods. Remorsefully, he sits back down and looks at you with love growing in his eyes.

"You're wonderful, do you know that?" he asks. "I made a good choice in marrying you."

Your heart sinks whenever he talks like that. As if everything is a business deal to secure the heritage of the throne. Edmund has a tendency to be selfish and inhuman, how does he really care for you? Does he see you as another package deal to secure the future? Is he treating you differently because he should? Since you’re the queen?

"Can I ask you a question?" you ask hesitantly.

"Go ahead", he answers calmly.

"Did you marry me because you needed a queen or … because you actually wanted to?"

You can see him physically twitching. He furrows his dark brows and looks at you questionably.

"What are you saying?" he asks in confusion. “Are you serious?”

You nod. Your throat has gone dry. That voice. Oh, how you hate to confront him. He can never take anything in any way other than an attack. 

“Do you think I wanted to be married at this age?” Edmund asks with a raised eyebrow. “That wasn’t my priority, Y/N. With that said, you’re definitely not just something I ticked off the bucket list. Don’t … don’t I show you enough love?”

You shrug fearfully. After every horrific thing he’s done to the people around you — including you — there’s nothing that actually shows if he loves you or only sees you as a pet. Edmund gulps and pulls his chair back quick enough for you to shudder. He stands up and walks over to your chair … holding out his hand. You stare at it blankly.

“Would … would you like to dance?” he asks

"Huh?" you ask, wondering if you could have heard wrongly.

"Dance with me."

You get pulled up on your feet by a strong force and almost crash into him. He squeezes your waist and positions the two of you for a dance. The music from the village is enough for him to find a rhythm and bring you into a trance. You can feel the guards glancing at you. 

“Don’t look at them”, Edmund whispers warningly. “Look at me instead.”

You turn your eyes to him and he smiles. His smile makes him look like his actual age and it makes you relax slightly. After all, he’s just a young man without guidance. You shake your head. No. Don't think like that, don't give him excuses.

"There you go", he says approvingly. "Keep your eyes on me. There's only you and me in this world — in our own world — no one else."

He twirls you around before gaining another tight grip on you. You're sure that you'll get bruises on your hips by the end of the dance. You let him take the lead, not knowing where you’ll end up, but you know better than to question any of Edmund’s decisions. 

“The guards, they’re looking at you”, he says without taking his icy blue eyes off of yours. “Gawking even. Wishing that they had what’s mine. Pretty pathetic, don’t you think? To be jealous of me? As if they could ever be on my level.”

“I’m not on your level either, Edmund”, you remind him quietly, hoping to make him realize how stupid he sounds. “Would you talk about me like that too?”

He looks dumbfounded. 

“You must have hit your head or something with all the absurd questions you’re asking today”, he mutters and rolls his eyes. “No one is on my level — of course — but you’re far, far better than any of the other people in this kingdom. Don’t try to insult yourself by saying that you’re like them ever again, Y/N. I don’t like that.”

He dances round and round, holding you as close as he possibly can against his chest. You’re practically molded against his body. 

“I’m so fucking obsessed with you, Y/N”, Edmund whispers in your ear. “You make me crazy. I can never let you go. You’re so perfect.”

His arms tighten around you and you start to wonder if he’s going to break your corset. In this world of your own, he will make sure that it is only you and him. Only you and him … in your own little shielded, exluded world.

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Twelve

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. healing injury, mention of death, grief, FLUFF (finally), ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You spend time at the House as you recover from your injury... and start to fall for Azriel.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten - Eleven

You had been asleep for three days. Madja said you had a fever from the cold and the ash wood so it would take your body longer to recover. Even with her healing. 

Azriel stayed by your side the entire time. Rhys had to come in at one point and drag him out so he could bathe. Az wouldn’t sleep until you were awake. He was so mad at himself for letting you get hurt on his watch. They would investigate the mountain dwellers later. Why they had ash spears, or ash at all. But now, all he could do was watch as you slept. 

You stirred in your sleep, a soft whimper coming out as you woke up. Someone was holding your hand, but they dropped it as soon as you opened your eyes. 

You blinked a few times, light streaming in from the windows. “Azriel?” You whispered and looked at him, smiling softly. 

“You’re awake..” he said and smiled, leaning over to grab a glass of water for you.

He helped you sit up and you kept your eyes on him as you drank the water. “My wings… will I..”

“Yes. The spear came close to one of your tendons but Madja was able to remove it without damaging anything,” he said and smiled, resisting the urge to move the hair from your face. 

You let out a soft sigh of relief and looked back to your wing as you slowly stretched it out. “I was such an idiot. I didn’t even do anything to protect myself.” You said, shaking your head as you pulled your knees up to your chest. The cut on your hand had healed already, but your wing was still bandaged. 

“Hey, no,” Azriel said and moved to sit down on the edge of the bed. “First of all, you had ash wood in your wing.” He said. “And second, you did everything you could.” 

“I didn’t do anything.” You repeated, looking directly at him. “Those males were trying to hurt us and you did all the work. And I got hurt. I couldn’t even unbind my shadows until it was too late.” You frowned, looking forward. 

You felt tears well in your eyes out of frustration, not hurt or sadness. “I promised myself I would never let another male harm me. I would protect myself.” You shook your head. “And you needed to do that for me. What kind of warrior am I?” 

“One that relies on her allies.” He said and moved closer to you, reaching up his scarred hand to wipe away the tears. When you didn’t flinch, he rested his hand on your cheek. “Illyrians may train to be the best individually at first, but the more important part is training as a team. Learning to rely on the warriors around you, and letting them take the brunt of it when you’re hurt.”

“(Y/N)… you’re still training and you did amazing out there. You didn’t back down, you came with me up there because you knew you could fight. If I had known it was ash wood, we would’ve left right away. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt. But that was on me.” He said, stroking your cheek. 

You stared into his eyes, the bit of green that stood out making your stomach churn. Not from the lack of food, but from the way he was looking at you. With so much pride but also disappointment. Disappointment in himself. Neither of your shadows were anywhere to be found. They had settled on the floor, leaving this moment for the two of you. 

“Azriel…” you whispered, lifting up your hand to meet his wrist. You slowly lowered his hand from your face, instead taking his hand in yours. “This was not your fault.” You said. “And if you don’t blame me, you can’t blame yourself.” You said, rubbing your thumb over his hand, the ridges smooth against it. 

“I was supposed to protect-“ 

“And you did.” You said, not letting him finish. “You got me out of there before it got worse. And you didn’t get hurt. It could have easily been you that got a spear in your wing, and I don’t think I could’ve done what you did.” 

He went to answer but stopped when there was a knock at the door, Rhys stepping inside. “I thought you were awake.” He said, a small smile on his face as he saw you. 

He noticed your hands intertwined before you both pulled away from the somewhat intimate moment. The smile on his face only widened farther. “We have breakfast ready at the House. Are you ready to go back?” He asked. “Madja cleared you for winnowing last night.” 

You looked around, noticing you were still in the cabin at Windhaven. “Yeah, I am… how long have I been out?” 

“Three days.” Rhys answered. “You’ll rest until after Solstice, and then if you want, you’ll go back to training.” 

You nodded and shifted to sit up more, wincing at the aching pain that shot from your wing to your back. “I’m lucky those mountain dwellers had horrible aim.” You said, glancing at Azriel. “And that you were there for me.” 

“You want Mor to help you get ready?” Rhys asked, keenly aware of the intense stare that was being shared between you and Azriel. After pining after Mor for so long, he was happy to see Azriel with you. Your experiences might have been different, but you were so right for each other. 

“No, I got it.” You said and took Azriel’s hand as he helped you out of the bed. 

Rhys left without another word and then Azriel went after him. 

“Azriel..” you started. He paused and turned towards you. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else out there with me.” You said, smiling as he nodded and followed after Rhys. 

You walked with Mor and Amren through the Palace of Thread and Jewels, trying to find a present for the boys. You already got Mor a pair of heels and Amren a jewel display case, with a few jewels already packed in it. You wanted to get Rhys a new pair of boots. He had all the money in Prythian and his fighting boots were so worn down that it was embarrassing. Cassian you were going to get a special sheath for his favorite sword. And for Azriel… well you still didn’t know what to get for him. 

“What do you get for a person who saved your life?” You asked the two females as you walked through the clothing racks. You were thinking of a shirt that would make his eyes stand out. For the past two days since you woke up, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him. And he was actually talking to you. He would sit next to you at meals. He even agreed to go for a walk with you down the Sidra. You didn’t talk, but you wanted to spend some time with him. Time that wasn’t training. It was so easy to like him. Even when he ignored you, you were enthralled by him. But now… you were starting to wonder how he didn’t have a partner yet. 

Azriel was sweet and kind. He would practically do anything for you if you asked. You were sure he didn’t hate you anymore. Not to mention, he was gorgeous. Especially when you got to go up to the training ring and watch him and Cassian spar. And when they would use swords? It was even better. They normally had their shirts off. 

“We’ve all saved each other's lives one way or another… so, just get Az whatever you think he’d like… like this.” Mor said and pulled out a very lavish pair of red pants with gems lining the top and down to the bottom. 

“Azriel would like this?” You asked, glancing at Amren. You held back a laugh as she shook her head. 

“Don’t get him that.” Amren said and took the pants from Mor’s hand, hanging it back up. “What did you get us?” She asked. 

“Well I can’t tell you.” You said, smiling at her. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll like it.” You said. 

“Maybe a dagger?” You suggested, Amren just shook her head again. You groaned and leaned your head back. “I have no clue.” 

“Let’s go further in, there’s some more things he might like.” Amren said and started walking over to a different vendor. 

By the time you got back to the townhouse, you had bought the rest of the presents, including one for Azriel. 

Rhys also insisted that all of you stay in the town house for the Winter Solstice. You didn’t have anything to complain about, especially when Rhys had given you your own room. It was beautiful, but you preferred the room at the House of Wind. Your bed at the House was slightly bigger and the windows were able to open a lot easier.

You saw Nuala and Cerridwan and quickly gave them the gifts you got for them. It was Solstice Eve and they would be spending the rest of the day and tomorrow away from the town house. Your gifts were some simple baking supplies and also new outfits for the two of them. Specially crafted for shadow wraiths. You’d grown close to them while Under the Mountain and you were glad your two friends were spending this Solstice with their families.

You had gone to the small balcony that looked out to the Sidra, choosing to spend the time before dinner admiring the city. Snow covered the foliage, trees, and roofs. Roads and sidewalks were cleared but there was a light snowfall that started covering it. Your thoughts drifted to your family from the northern village. How they had died… how they would’ve been so in love with this city. You thought about how Oran would’ve been in love with Mor the moment he saw her. How Igna and Sirona would have wanted a house on the Sidra, and probably would have said no to Rhys’s offer to buy them one. You wish they could be here. Wish you could see them one more time to tell them how much they made you the female you were today. 

You didn’t know you were crying until a few tears landed on the railing. You looked down and let out a small laugh, wiping away your tears. 

Azriel saw you on the balcony as he passed by. You looked so amazing in your dress. It hugged all the right curves, and flowed down to your ankles. The slight wind outside let it flow to your left. Your hair was braided on the top but curls fell down to your shoulders, bristling along with your dress. Even if he couldn’t see your face, he wanted to fall to his knees. In the starlight, you looked incredible. Gorgeous. He couldn’t walk away. Had to tell you at the very least that you looked amazing tonight. He found you crying. Not happy tears, and not sad, but nostalgic. As if you were remembering something happy and missed it. He just wanted to see you smile. To see that bright light that came to your eyes when you found something amusing.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” You heard Azriel ask. You turned towards him and gave him a small smile. 

“Yeah, just wishing there were a few more people I could spend this time of season with.” You said, looking back at the Sidra. The sapphire river glinted in the faelight, flowing seamlessly through bends and over rocks. 

“I know what you mean.” He said. “Rhys’s mother used to cook us an amazing meal for Solstice. We haven’t been able to recreate it.” He said. 

At the mention of Rhys's mother, your thoughts drifted to Tamlin. How he betrayed Rhys and allowed his family to kill Rhys’s mother and sister, ripping their wings off. He even killed his father. You thought of Feyre being with Tamlin in the Spring Court. You hoped she was doing well. Hoped her Solstice would be good, even if the Spring Court didn't really celebrate it like Night. Rhys wouldn’t tell you if he knew anything, but you could tell he didn’t like the idea of Feyre being with Tamlin even more than you did. 

“You going to join us for dinner?” He asked. 

You turned back towards him, burying the grief and worry deep into your gut. Now was not the time for sadness. It was the time for joy and rebirth. The new year. 

“Of course. You sitting next to me again?” You asked, walking towards him. When he didn’t step aside, you looked up at him. He leaned against the door frame, shoulder against it. His right wing disappeared behind it, and his left was spread out. Cauldron boil you. He looked good. “Are you going to let me join?” You teased. 

“Are you really okay?” He asked, his deep hazel eyes peering into yours. 

You paused, your breath catching in your throat. “Yes, I’m okay. I can be a little sad and happy at the same time. Don’t you think?” You asked. 

“I wish you weren’t sad at all, you’re much prettier when you’re happy. When you smile.” He said. 

You couldn’t help your surprise. Did he just call you pretty? You felt heat rise to your cheeks and you looked down. “Azriel…” you muttered, a small smile forming on your lips. 

“There she is,” he whispered, his scarred hand raising up, a finger lifting your chin so you would look at him. “That beautiful smile.” 

If you could barely breath before, now you were running out of air. “Where is this coming from?” You asked, looking into his eyes. 

“This is the time of season for new things. I figured now would be the time to tell you what I’ve been thinking the past two months.” He whispered. 

You swallowed, his hand now moving to cup the side of your neck. “Your smile is beautiful, Azriel.” You whispered timidly. That tug towards him was pulling you closer to him. “I don’t see it enough.” You said. 

A small side smile came to his lips. “Wait till tomorrow night. Maybe you’ll see it.” He said, winking at you before he pushed off the doorway, dropping his hand from your neck. He turned around and walked away, leaving you blinking.

What in the Cauldron just happened?

A/N: (First off, sorry this was posted a little late. I didn't have time to schedule it over the weekend... Happy Mother's Day to all the moms reading this!!!) I was so excited to post this chapter. This is really when Azriel steps out of his own head and says what he feels (thank the mother, right?!). Hope you all enjoy! Next chapter is very sweet as it starts with the Solstice.

Also, let me know if y'all want a little drabble as to what Azriel (And Rhys/Cass) do with the mountain dwellers that hurt you (the ones that Az didn't kill, at least). I haven't written it but I would love to type it out!

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[itjazzbicch]

Hunger

Pairing: Havik x Vaeternian(Vampire)!Reader 

First time writing for Havik, so I hope I did well! 

Summary: As friends/allies, the reader is blindsided before meeting with Havik to discuss important matters, starving as some time had passed before their meeting, and when Havik sees their condition, their friendship begins to show...

Warnings:  Mentions of blood, blood-sucking, mentions of injury. (Havik being a little soft because that's what I want lol) Havik's tower ending spoiler (kinda lol)

(Had this idea in mind and could only see it working with Havik for some reason)

Word Count: .6k 

"You conquered Seidou, huh?" As much as Havik disliked the wholesome word, friends, that's what we were, happy that my friend accomplished his goal, "I knew you would."

"Something's wrong-"

We were supposed to meet as I hoped to take a big step in my plan to save my kind in the realm of Vaeternus, but I was blindsided before meeting here.

In the dark forest, it was hard to see; stepping into the moonlight, my face showed that I was drained, and the one distinctive part of me was now missing.

"Your wings-" The moonlight revealed the anger in his eyes, rage on his scarred face, and in his voice, "What happened?!"

"Simple-minded scum hating my kind, as always," I sighed, going to him, but stumbling into a tree, slowly sinking to the ground, explaining as he came to me, searching for my wings and not wanting to accept the truth, "They clipped my wings, Havik. They're gone now."

"Who did this?" Staring deep into my eyes, I could see the chaos that this created in his mind and how badly he wanted to release it, "I'll kill them."

"There's no need. I already did that," The wounds left behind after my wings were clipped left me considerably weakened; I managed to dispose of the assassin who was sent to kill me, but I was too weak to put myself in danger and not able to use my intuitive tactics now that my wings were gone, Havik realizing what was most threatening at that moment:

"You haven't eaten, have you?"

"Not since I ate that assassin," I hated how my stomach felt like an endless pit at times; now, starving on top of being wounded, the future wasn't very bright from my perspective; apologizing to Havik with a whisper, "I'm sorry, but I'm useless now."

"Don't talk like you're a weakling," Kneeling at my side, he was always hellbent on whatever task lay ahead of him and expected me to be the same way, "You're not useless, just hungry, right?"

"Very," I sighed, taken aback as he titled his head, presenting his neck to me:

"What are you waiting for?"

"A-Are you sure?" My rumbling hunger had my mouth water at the sight of his neck, but he was my friend; something in my heart conflicted with that hunger, making me hesitant.

"Yes," He huffed with impatience, rolling his eyes, so I picked myself up and rubbed the side of his neck, cooing:

"Relax, so it doesn't hurt that bad."

"Pfft, sure-"

I warned him, hunger's desperation was no longer tolerable, my fangs sinking into his neck, feeling the bit of tenseness as I pierced his skin and flesh. The first drop of blood had me humming, trying not to suck him dry.

This was more of a test of self-control rather than a feeding session. I'd never tasted anyone like him before. The taste was distinct and was urging me to be ravenous, my hums growing with every swallow, even running a hand through his hair, but his chaotic ways made me side-eye him as he was groaning and laughing:

"Ngh, ha-ha, hmm."

"Enjoying yourself?" I toyed as I picked myself up, not full, but not starving, so I was grateful, cleaning his neck with my tongue before kissing the bite softly, "Thank you for that."

He wasn't responding to me, unsure of what he was doing, till I felt his fingertips tracing up my back, wincing at the lingering pain as he trailed the slow healing wound where my wings were before.

"This is going to take some time to heal," He observed, showing a side of himself that I never imagined existing as he rubbed my side, the tone in his whisper sparking something within me, "And yeah, I did. I like the pain."

He was a maniac, but I think that's what I liked most about him; I chuckled at him with a smile as I shook my head, "Only you would." 

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

[childrenofcain-if]

Hi! I want to start by warning that this will probably be a long rant about how much i love your IFs. But first, I hope you feel better soon!

The first IF of yours i played was the pjo one, which sent me down a rabbit hole of going through the rest of them (still haven't played tcs but i will soon 🤞🏻). It was just BAFFLING how people could be so purposefully ignorant about the concept of fanfiction and accused you over and over of plagiarism like, please go outside and touch grass, clearly the internet has stopped your brain from developing critical thinking.

Anyways, the adaptation was so well done and faithful while also exuding a newness to it that i am very excited to see unravel. I understand at the moment it has been paused (and I don't know if you've addressed why it's no longer up) and i hope with time you can feel comfortable with it again. None of the shit you've gotten was deserved or even understandable but alas, it still happened. As a content creator myself, i truly truly sympathize with you. I hope these words offer some comfort, however small.

Same goes for WLB, but the awe at how descriptive and raw your writing is really peaked through in something of your own creation. I find myself revisiting it and experiencing the exhilaration from my first reading all over again. I can't wait to watch everyone around my mc descend into eldritch madness as they become more and more unhinged. Consequences of my own actions? Never heard of them, i want my mc to go apeshit!

Now, gods where do i start... TBOTYG is *chef's kiss* flawless, i never thought i could become so obsessed with anything with only one part. I awaited the demo with baited breath, already anticipating all the ways you would surprise and impress (and you did). Every choice, every scenario, the way you build your plot and characters, your descriptions (I don't know if you can tell that I'm a little too hung up on the writing aspect of it) of characters and actions and feelings. The amount of work and effort you put into characterization is so very clear and it feels very freeing to have that amount of control over a character that we're supposed to "relate" to (in the context of the narrative, almost as if living vicariously through them). i think that no matter how much time passes, your IFs will remain a staple in the community and every player who finds your gems will feel blessed and changed after playing.

It's gotten to the point I've created a whole google doc of my MC, and made fake ig accounts with interactions (just for myself, to cope with the anticipation) and this is a level of commitment I've only felt with my own OCs and works. In such a short time, your IFs have carved a deep space for themselves in my life. I find myself replaying and going through their official pages religiously even though I've read every post already.

a question! will every LI's gender be chosen individually? I'm wondering because C and D are suitmates, but is it doable if they're different genders? same for mc and V. I'm thinking yes but also wanted to be sure

Honestly very very sorry for the long rant, I'm sure you have better things to do 😭😭 but i had the uncontrollable urge to express my feelings on your art and it took me an entire day of trying to talk myself out of it (i failed).

(also, here's my mc's profile and dm box. her royal highness maxine's ig profile is private btw. going for c route first. Mitică is the romanian diminutive for the name Dimitru, and opsis is an ancient greek concept i thought would fit V)

i’m speechless (sentimentally), dear reader 😭 i still can’t believe some people would take the time out of their day to think about my silly little worlds and the characters in it, less of all like how i’ve written my works. every single time i hit a writer’s block or have the whole doxxing trauma flare up again, i think of quitting but it’s the urge to write stories and the joy of sharing it with everyone that is still keeping me going.

i can’t explain how much your words mean to me because this is what i write for. to have people relate to or identify with or adore the world and characters i’ve built is such a dream within itself. from the bottom of my heart, i am thankful for every single reader who has always been nothing but supportive from day one. if elias has his apple, i have y’all. and no, it doesn’t mean y’all can have my meagre inheritance but it’s the sentiment that counts.

to answer your question, every single LIs gender will be selectable! blackthorne hall has individual bedrooms per suite so y’all will only be sharing the common areas and kitchenette with V while having your own personal space. it’s more like an apartment than a usual college dorm tbh.

oh and please, rant away! i’d love nothing more than to hear about your MCs and the various headcanons, questions, or theories you might have!

(also please knock C down a few pegs, they desperately need it 😔)

[chishiyasbiscuits]

frustration! || aguni x reader xo

[1.9k words.] [Warning: Smut, lol. Basic smut I guess, but also like, frustrated sex? It's Aguni, so there's a bit of anger, duh. I had a few requests for Aguni, so why not?🤭 Warn, and inform me if there seems to be any warnings I have missed.]

He was so enticing. The stern gaze, he always had - complimenting his earnest features - was enough to send me into overdrive. His intimidating demeanour barely worked for me, and it frustrated him. I could see it in the twitch of his biceps. Each time I sent him a teasing smile, as a reaction to his commandments and threatening actions. He was angered by my unwavering attraction to him. Merely because it puzzled his simple, unloved mind. This anger, however, only invited me further into the arousing state I felt when he was around. 

"Y/n." Aguni spoke. His voice rough and low. He cast me a glance, and I set my taunting stare on his features. Lined with a grouchy tint. "Yes, Aguni?" My head fell to the side, allowing the loose strands of my hair to spread against my bare shoulder. He immediately caught onto the feigned innocence. "If you create anymore trouble for the militants I'll have to kill you." He glared. Knowing, as the wise man he was, that the only reason I had been inflicting chaos was to achieve his presence. 

I flashed him a sweet, honeyed smile. Coated in a guiltless sheen, and with my act, I batted my lashes. Gaining yet another glare, the man sighed. 

"I'm being serious." He spoke, his muscles flinching. I grinned in content, while I watched the familiar vein in his neck pop. "We both know you wouldn't dare do that." I lowered my eyelid in a wink, leaning forward on my elbows. Aguni tilted his chin. Clearly suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, and instead subtly shaking his head. "I'll give you a final warning." He mumbled. "Next time, you'll be killed."

My expression fell, and his ears were met with the faint sound of my sigh. Exasperated and dramatic, as always. "Oh, Aguni." I groaned, placing my palms on the wall I was set, and pushing myself to the concrete floor. "You're an attractive hunk of muscle.." I paused, lips stretching into a smirk while I walked to his frozen stance. His eyes followed me - Curious and conceitful. "And yet you're oblivious to the fact I need you." 

Silence ensued. Washing over the thin space between my expecting gaze, and his lost trance. His lips parted, perhaps to speak, but I wouldn't know. He pulled them together almost instantly, at the sound of Niragi's voice. Slicked with a desperation for disorder. 

"What's this?" He cackled, repositioning his rifle. "Aguni's got a little girlfriend?"

"The Aguni?" He pushed, emphasizing his words. Aguni's jaw tensed, and I blinked. I had never seen him this wrapped up in anger. It was almost lust-worthy, but I knew better than to annoy him at this moment. His gaze flicked to my figure, and a hint glimmered in his glare. "Or is she annoying you, boss?" Niragi continued, obviously unaware of how unneeded he was right now. The raven-haired man tossed his gun up and caught it, positioning it so that the metallic tip landed beneath my chin. I swallowed, exchanging a look with the man beside me. 

He exhaled, gesturing his head to the right. Niragi lowered the weapon. "Leave." Aguni requested, and watched through his peripheral vision as Niragi hesitated, winking at my still form before walking off. I released the unknown breath I had been holding. "Thanks.."

"Quiet." Aguni commanded. His voice harsh and abrupt. His calloused hand met my arm, and he gripped roughly. Pulling my body towards him, and guiding me into the Beach's proximity. His movements were far from gentle, and really, being ragged around by the man I had been lusting over was more than arousing. I slid my lip between my teeth as I entered a room, and was thrown against a nearby wall. I collided with the material, like a pathetic doll. Brushing myself against the plaster, and turning to face the man. He loomed above me, face stern and muscles, again, tensed. I swallowed the build-up of saliva, caught in my throat, and lifted a finger to swipe the messed strands of my hair. 

"What are you.." I was cut off by large palms landing either side of my head. Aguni pressed me closer to the wallpaper against my exposed back, and lowered his chin. "I thought you wanted me?" He questioned, while also already knowing the answer. His tempting lips were so close. Parted, and letting slip unruly breaths. "I do.." I gasped. My back straightened, and without a second longer to spare, his lips were on mine. Moving and moulding against the flesh like a rabid animal. My hands were flung around his neck, where I subtly brought myself closer to his heaving chest. 

I felt his fingers slip down the wall, and trace the skin of my thighs. There, his palms cupped beneath the muscle, and assisted him in guiding me to his bed. I was dropped against the strewn sheets, and as a reflex my arms fell. Finding themselves above my splayed out hair. Aguni pulled away. His lips glistening and his eyes heavy with a corrupted desire. "You like me, don't you?" I teased, spreading a smirk across the skin of my face. Aguni huffed in return, taking my thighs like pieces of meat, and digging his fingertips into the reddened flesh. "Shut up." He pulled apart my legs in a hostile motion, frigidly letting the cool air meet my clothed pussy. "Admit it.." I strained beneath him, barely squirming against the cold and sudden temperature change. 

Aguni remained silent. Letting his frustration out in the simple movements of his fingers. He slid one beneath my lower bikini, and stripped away the fabric. It fell against my ankles, and I hastily flicked them from my feet to the floor. While I did so, he slipped the finger between my slicked folds. Eyeing the body part like it was treasure. Treasure he ached for. "Aguni, please.." I begged, knuckles already turning a ghostly white, as I gripped the sheets beneath me. He flicked his attention to my bliss-taken features, and stared. Face ridden with nonchalance. 

Surely he had been forged by genuine gods. The way his body appeared to me, and created nothing but arousal in the fabric of my pants. His husky voice was enough to set me off, as he scolded me for writhing under his warmth. His fingers graced my clit, gently rubbing on the sensitive area, before the digit sank into my heat. I whimpered at the contact. His rough, but also unhostile pumping, as he slipped yet another finger between my walls. I knew he adored the feeling. Like a drug, the waves of our pleasure blurred our minds. Replacing the anger between us with an undeniable libido. 

His features were lined with concentration. With each focused thrust, and each curl of his fingers. His skin brushed against my insides, and the eyes that were set on his gorgeous expression rolled in pleasure. I knew he loved the feeling of me, wrapped tightly around his body. I could feel it, in the way my thighs were clenched harder. Purple and red decorated the spaces he attacked, and his jeans strained beneath the constraint of his growing erection. 

The bulge sat in my vision, while I arched myself on his ramming wrist. "Aguni!" I gasped, dropping my jaw in pure pleasure. It was a brief moment, where the rapture washed over me in the form of melodic moans, and wincing eyes. Aguni let slip the smallest of smiles, which portrayed his pride, like clear water.

I was barely lowered from my high, when the clink of metal brought my lidded eyes to the man before me. He pulled apart his belt, and dropped the accessory. Pushing down the fabric of both his jeans and boxers. Revealing to me his cock - already dripping, and throbbing against his lower stomach. His fingers curled around the base, and his clouded eyes never teared from my own. The intense eye contact, as he drew his palm up his twitching length, was orgasm-inducing. I whimpered beneath the weight, as he caressed my hips with his palms. Pulling my body toward his pelvis. 

"You can't say you don't feel the same way now.." I spoke, lashes closing mid-sentence as his cock slid past my folds. He grunted. "Don't get too cocky." 

"So you do." I dared. Stirring the pressure like a stew, ready to boil over. His brows arched, and in the deep confines of his eyes something snapped. Perhaps he had been repeatedly removing the idea of love from his minimalistic mind, and through doing so, spawned a resentment for me. One he couldn't rid, for no matter what, I consistently crawled back under his skin, and itched the touch-starved portion of his heart. He longed for me, and only now was it apparent. Through the way his teeth subtly tugged into his bottom lip, with every precise thrust. With every husked groan he granted me in the midst of the sweaty, pornographic dance we pulled off.

He was bigger than I had expected, though when I say that, what was I expecting? He gave off the vibes, and he was an ex-SDF officer. There was no need to be shocked, now he showing his clear stamina, and accuracy - with each effortless buck against my ass, where his skin met my own in a harsh slap, and his cock slid further and further. Igniting pleasure upon pleasure. My walls wrapped around his base, and by the way he burnt holes in my crotch, it was clear he was enjoying the sight. I clenched, and the shaft of his cock stretched my pulsing walls, tilting me precariously over the tipping point.  

It was only when his fierce eyes met mine, and the vexation dissipated. Leaving only the sensual tone, in his rasping, erotic whisper. "Get in the way, and you'll never get this cock again." Aguni spoke hoarsely. Breaths uttering out from his parted lips, as his high arose. The sharp stutters in his hips, and the quick, fast-paced jolts of his chest showed me how close he had became. His perspiring face morphed into a pleasured bearing. Where his glossy eyes fell into lids, and his mouth was parted by the harsh, guttural groan he allowed free. Ecstasy rushed through our bodies, and as mine shook beneath his pervasive hold I crumbled, and came around his twitching length. Still deep, and stroking the slick walls within me. A second, heavy moan, fell from his lips and my abdomen was greeted by a warmth. 

Sweat dripped from the expanse of his neck, as he craned himself above me. Looking down, with neither hatred nor anger, but a fine-drawn admiration. His expression faded, and the features of his face relaxed. I smiled, somewhat mockingly. "Aw, how cute." I breathed, and the moment broke apart in the very hands he had gripped me with. Aguni inhaled. "If Niragi ends up being aware.." 

"I'm dead." I finished, tilting my chin, and picking my upper body up with my arms. I rested on the bed he had just fucked me on, and stared, complacently. "Up." He sighed, tucking his cock back between the fabric of his pants. His eyes averted, and then landed on my figure - obeying his every word. "Maybe I should fuck you often." He smirked, barely laughing through his nostrils. The roll in his eyes made me giggle. "Maybe you should.." I suggested. 

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Misconduct Chapter 6

The large body of italicized text is a flash back to the night before (just to clarify). Smh at you reader, you know what you did. Alright, we’re starting a little bit of drug talk here.

*******

“I want to help you.” Once your standoffish behavior subsided, the two of you gravitated to the kitchen. Dressed in only Genesis’ burgundy dress shirt, the man in question is sitting at the kitchen table in nothing but his boxers. It wasn’t like he had anything else to wear.

The brief description of what you do for a living made Genesis quite a bit uncomfortable and despite giving him an unopened bottle of water he ignored it. To think you were worried about him drugging you. 

“Let me get this right, you’re selling unapproved mako injections?” It took a lot to mask the disgust Genesis felt at your revelation. The mako injections that had somehow managed to be approved were a horror to endure. Knowing this drug was being passed around the streets made his stomach churn. Swallowing the urge to ask you how many you have killed to make a bit of money. Was it worth it? 

Mako-related poisoning didn’t make total sense to Genesis, then again, he didn’t know very much about the territory he was treading into. Easily the compound could have been cut with other drugs for a specific effect. It would truly be like no other, paired with the drug problems under the plate and the rising problems on the top plate. Making something almost impossible to recreate is also a decent selling point and likely wasn’t being created by many people. 

“Something like that, I guess. I don’t know too much about you SOLDIERS except that you’re genetically altered. It doesn’t have the same effect I’m sure. It provides temporary power, yes. Not on the caliber of what’s in your body. Plus it’s not quite an injection, well it can be. There’s a few ways to take it.” You acted so blasé about the entire thing as if the reality of what you were doing wasn’t contributing to the climbing death rate. Preying on the citizens of this community was evil. “Anyways, I don’t sell it. I distribute it, big difference. I get a salary wage just like you, it’s just far more imperative that I don’t fuck up.” 

Looking at you, Genesis didn’t peg you for someone to stuff your body with drugs. Drinking, clearly. Maybe smoking. But addiction also doesn’t have a look. “Do you take it?”

The way your eyebrows alone called him a fool for thinking that. “I’m not a junkie, I’m not going to kill myself like they might for a quick fix.” 

And that solidified how shitty you were to him, making it vocally clear you knew what could potentially occur when someone takes this stuff. It made his skin crawl to think he might be in a situation where he’s working with the likes of you. 

For some reason, you refused to give up the name of the drug. Instead of telling Genesis that he would learn more as time went on, names weren’t important just yet. 

“Your turn, what has Shinra done to you?”

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

Just how stupid could you get? You told a total stranger, a First Class SOLDIER no less, your illegal activities. Here you lay, stark naked, spread across the redhead's chest as he snores softly. The sheets lay messily over the two of you, hardly covering a bit of flesh on either one of you. 

Could you kill him? Probably not, he seemed to be a light sleeper. His physic was godsent, the definition of his muscles alone made it clear that he would overpower you and every time you tried pulling away, Genesis' arms would wrap around you, locking you into place with his voice pleading for you to stay. 

Now, your final question. What made you trust him? You wanted to blame the liquor, and at first, you did. But there had to be a deeper reason behind it. You weren’t just some drunk idiot who would blurt out information that should be kept under lock and key. 

He seemed so sincere and you could heavily resonate with his emotions towards Shinra. You aren’t concerned about the company in general or its wrongdoings to the planet that you hear about, not letting thoughts pass through your mind when it comes to things that are out of your control like the planet dying. 

The only issue with Shinra. 

You can, however, empathize with coming second place in everything no matter how hard you worked. Knowing you were supposed to be number one at everything but somehow still falling short of people who just happened to steal what you were working for. He seemed so honest in his explanation, that it felt like you couldn’t deny Genesis. 

He was so passionate during his rant about Sephiroth and how he wasn’t truly the hero everyone made him out to be. Voice filled with conviction as he claimed he should have been Shinra’s poster boy but the light was stolen by “Shinra’s greatest toy.” 

On the outside, they seemed to be good friends. Now it seemed like it was just for publicity purposes. Of course, they needed their SOLDIERS to give off the impression that all was well, but who knew this would be bubbling under the surface? Two of Shinra’s highest-ranking SOLDIERS in a constant back and forth for dominance? Interesting for sure. 

To have one of them by your side was the cherry on top. Genesis’ overall offer for protection and legal immunity was also far too good to pass up. You knew how important it was to have someone working for you from the inside. Whether it be to dispose of evidence, wipe records, or bring you weapons you couldn’t get on the streets, you knew how valuable he could prove to be. You’d just have to figure out what to do with him if he failed, which was a problem. 

Your eyes trail up taking notice of the scars littered here and there, stopping to gaze at the glorious work he’s put into his core. The only thing covering his core was the crumpled up sheet. ‘Yet another reason to keep him around’ The weakness you were feeling just at the sight of him might have made you feel a bit ditzy. 

Slowly shifting yourself to let your fingertips dance across his stomach's exposed skin, watching his muscles twitch in response to your touch. 

This was easily one of the biggest mistakes you’ve made yet. ‘If that was the case, the urge to keep him wouldn’t be this strong.’ You need to get a grip on these impulsive decisions, there is truly something more to Genesis than how resourceful he potentially is. For all intents and purposes, you replayed the events of the night over and over again. Finding it harder and harder to find any signs of deceit on Genesis’ part. With the passion with which he spoke about his distaste for the Silver General, you’d think Genesis has attempted to murder him on at least three occasions. 

Pulling away from Genesis’ hold at last, finally managing to avoid waking him up as you move about. You begin lazily patting the bed in search of your cell phone. Heaven forbid you miss a call from anyone above you. Once you concluded the phone wouldn’t be in the bed, only to remember you left it in the armrest of his car. ‘Mistake after mistake…’ 

You slide out of bed as carefully as possible and begin to pad your way over to the pile of clothes on the floor to get the keys to Genesis’ car. If memory serves you correctly, you made sure he locked the doors to his car before coming inside so strolling right out there wouldn’t be a possibility. 

As you rummage through the pockets of his pants, Genesis’ voice rings out teasingly, tearing you away from the task at hand. “If there’s something you want, you are more than capable of asking.”

“I just want my phone from your car if you don’t mind. Wasn’t tryin’ to wake you.” 

Something about your accent caught Genesis' attention, it earned a questionable glance from him. He hadn’t noticed the odd speech pattern until now. Undeniably, you were from the slums, but your overall speech suggests you may be from Corel. Come to think of it, there wasn’t much about your background in the files Tseng gave him. Making a mental note to find out more about your personal life as he rises from the bed and plucks his clothing from your hands. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it. All I need is for you to keep the bed warm for me.” 

“No can do, I’ve got to get my day started,” your eyes danced along Genesis' body as he slid into his pants before meeting vibrant blue eyes. “Don’t you want your shirt back?” 

“Not when you wear it far better than me.” Cute, a response that earned a hint of a smile from you. Was it really cute? Genesis recalled the previous night’s conversation and the distasteful lack of concern you have for any users of the product you help leak out into suspecting communities. It nearly wiped the thought from his mind, but he couldn’t deny that he found you undeniably attractive. 

One thing Genesis hated in this world was re-wearing clothes. He always had another uniform in his trunk, so he’d be just fine, but putting these clothes back on even for a second still made him grimace while he put the socks on. Watching as you sauntered out of the room and disappeared around the corner, following suit to seek out his shoes. 

Noting the sounds coming from the bathroom, he assumed you were in the shower, finally being granted the time to call Tseng for whatever may come next. 

Genesis navigated his way to the entrance, once he made it to his car to grab your phone and the duffel bag from his trunk. The sound of footsteps creeping up the driveway jarred him from his actions. 

Perhaps it was of convenience that Tseng showed up, partially beats having to find time to make a call. However, is this not possibly impeding the progress that was being made? 

“What are you doing here?” Oh, he didn’t look happy. Then again, Tseng never looked happy to begin with. 

He was doing that thing again. Becoming nonverbal when faced with a question he doesn’t want to answer. ‘No fucking way.’ Looking into Tseng’s brown orbs stunned Genesis. Was his feelings hurt? 

“Don’t tell me you’re acting emotionally right now.” Genesis rubbed the bridge of his nose, further understanding the reasons behind Tseng being removed from your case. “You’re trying to protect them aren’t you?” 

“No, I just want to talk to y/n,” Tseng said as if this was a perfectly reasonable time and place to have a discussion with you. As though it made sense in his mind and it should automatically click for Genesis. 

“What? No. Get out of here. You’re going to ruin everything. If they see you, they’re not going to bother with me anymore!” Genesis had the itch to scream, instead keeping his voice low and adding a bite to his tone. “If you didn’t want what happened to occur you should have said that. Now look at you. Feelings hurt and seconds away from crying on their doorstep. You’re acting based on emotion.” 

Tseng was setting up to deny these accusations, resigning his argument with a sigh. “I-I’m afraid you may be right on this. I tried to sit back idly, I know they aren’t doing this because they want to. I can’t believe y/n gave so much information to you.”

Genesis didn’t like the picture being created as more pieces to the puzzle came together. “You were trying to send me on a mission you never wanted solved? Are you insane?!”

“I want it to be complete. I just need to be the one to finish it. If it wasn’t solved in a year you would’ve been back with Lazard. No harm done in the end. It’s still doing you a favor, don’t forget that.” 

Blackmail. Genesis wasn’t going to play these games with Tseng. Sure, he’s stuck working with him, but Genesis wasn’t going to allow Tseng to treat him like most others he would use underhanded tactics with. "That makes this okay?!” 

“…Not for a second.” 

“A match made in heaven,” Genesis comments dryly, recognizing the connection between you and Tseng both uncaring of what consequences might come upon everyone involved. All but shoving Tseng back as he slammed the trunk shut, parting with one last statement. “I’m sure we can solve it without locking up your…thing. You’ve heard everything I’ve been told. You want to find the head of the table, don't you? Be level-headed, Tseng. Now go away.” 

Genesis couldn’t believe what he was dealing with. Tseng was in charge of the other Turks, normally this is what he would have to deal with, and he was sure of it. Now it was apparent that the real question is ‘Who keeps Tseng in check?’

[hanzajesthanza]

Dude, I just wanna say I am SOOOOO excited for your video essay on the Witcher. I have been waiting for a good essay covering more than the games and Netflix series for months now, as I like to listen to longer videos as I work during the mornings and I just know this is going to be so good. I've always loved reading your posts and analysis on the characters and arcs that books encompass, so I just wanted to share that I'm incredibly hyped for this, and I know you did an absolutely wonderful job piecing everything together and creating it :) I hope it gets the millions of views it DESERVES!!

i don't know where to begin, all i can say is thank you!! this ask totally made my night!

thank you not only for the encouragement, acknowledgement, validation... but for being. for being there, being excited, interested in the same topics. i'm just so happy i get to share this with people, that we get to share this—the fandom, the whole story, not just the video—together.

i'm really just so excited to share it and i hope everyone likes it or gets something useful out of it (and if it's not your vibe that's ok too!! everyone is invited!) like, i'm excited that you're excited... lol!

i really wanted to make something "quality" for people and for the channel, both in writing and in design. so there's a degree of storytelling that went into it, and i tried to make it visually engaging and structure it so that it's not just a spew of information, but like a little journey for everyone to come along with me on. most of the research was new for me too, so it's like we get to figure it out together.

below the cut is this kind of "diary entry": a long, contemplative, stream-of-consciousness response, haha...

(you don't have to read this, especially because i got a little emotional in it, i just thought i'd take the time to respond to authenticity with authenticity and get some things off of my mind... in reflection of the video, but also just about my personal life lol.)

i initially felt worried that people wouldn't get what i'm doing and would misinterpret my arguments, but despite these urges to explain myself a thousand times, i ultimately let my writing speak for me, and shut down the need to apologize and cover up what is decent work with a littering of disclaimers. i realized i actually can't stand it myself when youtubers go through the whole rigmarole of "sorry i haven't posted," "sorry it's not perfect," "sorry my pronunciation is bad," "sorry i'm not an expert" before they get to the actual video or what they want to say... i'm all: "lol, no worries. i wasn't expecting perfection, i'm just here to watch what you made." and i feel like most people have a similar reaction.

i know the concept of "fandom" has often a poor reputation online as a toxic space filled with drama, witch hunts, offensive behavior, self-absorbed conduct... and of course, there is some truth to that... but, there's also the good side of "fandom," which often goes ignored in narratives about it. i think "fandom" is just a niche kind of "community," and communities are simply groups of people (human beings, which have primal troupe-like natures, both build each other up and tear each other down, faction-like, warring, but also protective, loving fiercefully)...

it was different fandoms back then, of course, a little over ten years ago, but when i first got into "fandom" stuff online as a pre-teen, it was just night and day as opposed to my socializing in real life.

in discovering niche interests, passions, and yes, of course fictional universes that draw you in... i've always had only so few people to share that with in real life—when it comes to popular medias, of course, these medias were things that everybody in my school class was into, my friends had gotten me into it—but as i grew a little older and went on my own explorative journeys, i became most passionate about things that no one around me knew of or cared about, and suddenly, it was really lonely.

it had been a bit lonely before that, i always liked the media a little "too much," to the point of my friends asking me if we can stop playing pretend on the schoolyard and go watch the boys play four-square instead :'D or if we could please talk about anything else other than [media]. these are just childhood stumbles, which i imagine everyone has... but i mean, in this younger childhood, at least we could talk about media stuff sometimes, and i wasn't shunned too badly for it. but interests shifted and i got into things that only interested me, then i became truly alone on the recess yard.

when i first got into "fandom" online: groups of fans of [shared interest], who want to learn more about/talk and listen to others about/share and see more of [shared interest], and that entire world fit on my little iphone as i sat by the fence during lunch period, okay, i'm being so melodramatic here, but it was like a "welcome home." it was like discovering an entire little fairy world in the hollow of a tree. you mean to tell me, this place has existed, all this time? people who have the same interest, who want to talk about it, who are even—ha ha, just imagine—interested in what i have to say about it? those people exist, and they also have their own things to say, which i can listen and respond to? an actual faerieland. magic.

alright, i'll chill out. it's just social media, it's just social exchanges. but social exchanges are powerful, as human beings, we're evolutionarily driven to crave them. social media so often gets seen as fleeting exchanges, shallow engagement, but i—and probably a lot of tumblr's demographic—don't most often speak in staccato sentences online, but rather paragraphs, essays, hell, documents. we try to talk to each other kind of like we would in real life, we collaborate in building canons, worlds, have real discussions about media and society and... life. i don't know if anyone's studied this kind of experience as much as the generic "social media rots your brain" narrative, but it's been mine.

when i talk about [media interest], of course here and now it's specifically the witcher, i'm doing it because i'm part of this community, this whole forum, agora... i want to talk, but i moreover want to be listened to, to share, to be in conversation, not just be alone with my thoughts and interests.

it kind of boggles my mind, because i spent so long (ever since those aforementioned playground days) feeling like talking about anything fandom-related was excruciating for the people around me: that absolutely no one is interested in this but yourself, so get used to it.

so now, the fact that, sometimes when i post something, write something, draw something, make a video, or just say anything about this interest, that other people see that and it resonates with them, they enjoy it, it moves them, they're not annoyed, but also inquisitive, eager to talk about this thing, to share, too... like yourself, so kind to send me a message like "i'm interested in, excited for what you have to say," that's fucking crazy to me, it makes me so grateful, and also puts me in almost a state of disbelief! not just that i'm flattered, but that we share the same interest, have similar questions and desire for discussion about it, and live in a time where we can talk about this together over an instant, online communication... that no one has to suffer alone with their interests, no one has to feel isolated and weird and not know what to make of themselves.

despite fandom being seen as mean and shallow, (... similar to fantasy, come to think of it—interesting parallel with the actual subject of the video!) it's also a group of dynamic communities, that are sharing and criticizing and... just, communicating. the ability to communicate, the culture of communication is so important.

working on this project, somewhat fittingly, made me realize that the world is very gray, and nothing is even wholly good or wholly evil. this, of course, mostly applies to the politics and history and the story of the witcher which i'll be talking about in the video;

but what i realized is that this lesson also applies to mundane things, common anxieties i have. for example, that social media is not just bad or good, it's a tool with certain outcomes depending on how you use it. that people probably won't totally ignore you and shun everything you have to say, but they also won't listen to your every word. that success in life isn't impossible, but it's also probably not going to turn out as it is in your wildest dreams.

we're (~gen Z including zillennials and young millennials) surrounded with so much doomerist culture related to our prospects in life, especially as relates to contemporary media culture and life success, but it's not hopeless. you can always be an outlier of the broader trend. sometimes, you have to choose to be an outlier of the trend.

this is something i begin to talk about towards the end of the video. bagiński and hissrich basically see the trend and go: "looks like their attention spans are fucked, better speed up the process" instead of allowing themselves to be different, instead of embracing what makes them ("fantasy") special, trying so hard to conform... and hurting themselves from it. and looking at that, i just realized, i really don't want to follow that example and do something similar to myself.

i have to be bold enough to put my authentic self out there, even if it's "too complex to be understood", if it doesn't appeal to everyone, even if it turns some people away. it doesn't matter, because i only have one "me" to share, i can't force myself to be something i'm not. what i can do is seek out the people who i think will understand, who will be interested in that complexity. of course, this is something anyone whose advice is worth a grain of salt will tell you, has told me—but maybe i only understood it best when a witcher metaphor was applied :p

i'm in my 20s, and it's been so strange for me after i graduated college (undergrad), since what's now been two years ago. i spent my entire life in school, and suddenly no more school :( so i'm trying to regrow, or maybe grow in a different direction, that part of me that i lost when i had to graduate and get out... i'm struggling with feelings of failure every day, that i haven't met anyone's expectations for me since graduation, there has been so many feelings of worthlessness and confusion, i've so lost without school: a neat structured framework where everything gets measured and you get nice summaries of how you're doing in life.

it's horrified me upon discovering that, in life, no one measures how you're doing! you just live, and no one says "you're doing alright here, but here you could use some improvement." no one gives you direction, you have to plot your own map of unexplored territory. and suddenly, i don't know who i am anymore, where i'm going, why i do anything, what my purpose or use is. and, because i'm not in a class where there's a grade average, i also have no idea how everyone else is doing, only a vague feeling that i'm far behind. so it's really been confusing, demotivating...

as this video essay project dragged on, for about double the time i thought it was going to take, this sense of guilt and shame started to overtake me. throughout the project, i had this nagging paternalistic chiding in my head that i should be chasing success, career, relationships, life... but instead i'm wasting my time on the witcher, writing something no one cares about and people won't acknowledge me for. throwing away my time on something that doesn't matter. it was very contradictory, because i liked working on this project a lot, and of course and obviously i love the subject(s) it's about.

but i felt so fucking guilty for not pounding the linkedin pavement everyday and instead spending my time and effort on this video, lol. related back to what i spoke of earlier in this, that fandom is seen as petty and stupid—it's not something to be proud of. in my saddest moments, i thought of how my favorite professors might react if they knew that after graduation, this was the biggest project i had pursued. and my cheeks reddened in shame, i sweat from anxiety... literally as i write this, my hands are kind of shaking and i'm a bit nauseous imagining having to admit something like that to them. i mean, just think of every little kid that's like "i wanna be a youtuber!" it's adorable when you're 13, not so much when you're 23. and again, contradictory! because this is something i'm so stupidly passionate about, i'm unable to abandon it for something more "honorable"! i felt, i often feel, pathetic for how much i love things that no one cares about.

but upon completing this essay, i realized that this was something i started and finished, by myself, for... well, not "for myself," it's for you guys, but for self-motivated reasons, i.e., i wasn't seeking anyone's pride or approval—of course, your pride and approval would be nice to have and i wouldn't deny it! but i really did this for the values i have about community, for educational and discussional purposes, and of course, love for the witcher.

i realized that i made this because i wanted to make something to share with others, for other's benefit, which, upon reflection, has little to do with what others think of me. and that's really interesting, because i've, in school, in the majority of my life, i think i've been chasing the approval of others, i really wither away without it... so it's cathartic to realize that i put effort into, i spent my time on, making something not for approval, just out of passion. there's some kind of valuable life lesson learned here, i bet... some kind of personal growth...

but yeah, it's kind of weird. i guess my path doesn't look like everyone else's, i probably look like a loser to a lot of people right now if they could see me. but this video is evidence that i've grown and matured (in ways which maybe other people had already achieved for themselves, and maybe they haven't...) it's proof that i'm not stagnant, that life does exist in me still, and it's taking a form i didn't expect. a person is emerging from me. i can only watch with anticipation for who they'll become.

[edwinspaynes]

aaand jordelia + patiently helping them put their shoes on 🫶🏻

This is going to be a sort of two-in-one with another prompt I got last week from @furoruisa, who requested James and Cordelia at the theatre seeing another couple kiss. I felt like both ideas went well together, so I hope that's okay <3

I Can See You (Up Against a Wall With Me)

Cordelia was a vision in rose.

The pastel hue made the warm tones of her dark skin stand out, and her red-hennaed hair worked with the lace to create a stark contrast of soft comfort and hard angles. She was stunning, absolutely glorious, and James felt himself suck in a breath as he watched her descend barefoot down the stairwell. "Well?" She asked, her voice playful. "Is it so terrible?"

"Terrible?" James could barely get the word out. She was every one of his dreams come to life, down to the small daisies that she had strung through the thick strands of hair that trailed down close to her waist. "Daisy, you're..." so lovely I forgot to breathe. "You look perfect," he said instead.

"At least I go perfectly well with your necktie," she said. "We ought to form a sort of brigade. 'Pastel Passion,' perhaps?"

"Alliterative," James said. "As always, I love your ideas. Though I'm not sure that I would call my tie pastel," he argued. "More of a canary yellow than anything, I would say."

Cordelia giggled. "No, that is certainly more pale-yellow than lemon," she said. "But in any event, it brings out your eyes."

"Eldrich eternal flames?" James joked. "Very well, Daisy. I can accept that. In fact, I'm rather relieved - I will admit that I feared clashing. I haven't Matthew's sense of style, and I have felt my own appearance dwindling in his absence."

"Well, if this is you with a 'dwindled' appearance, I cannot imagine seeing you at whatever it is that you consider your fullest potential." She waved a hand as though indicating the great unknown, and James had the immediate urge to grasp it, to press the palm of her slim, elegant hand in his own, to kiss her as breathless as he had been when she descended the stairwell...

But no. No, he could not do that. "We cannot be late," he mumbled, talking himself down from his desperate yearning to feel his wife against him.

"That's true. I wouldn't wish to miss the beginning of Cinderella. And if we wish to get champagne before the show, which, let us be honest, is essential..."

"We must go. Agreed," James said. "But before that, here." He bent down to pick up one of Cordelia's glimmering red high-heels; they had small roses affixed to the sides, a lovely fashion that would surely work wonders with her ensemble.

He held it there, and Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "Why are you holding my shoe? Is this some odd Cinderella-related jest?"

"Because I am your prince?" James cracked a tiny smile. "Yes. Of course. Though I fancy myself as more of a Keats hero. Dark, brooding, handsome-"

"Yes, yes, I know your many merits," Cordelia laughed, lifting her foot. James slipped the shoe on, and the fit was perfect; he chuckled as she lifted her foot into the other as well.

"I'd no idea that your right foot was so much bigger than the left," James teased, helping her up. "Perhaps you'll need to take it to some special shoe-sizing facility for a perfect fit."

Cordelia whacked him. "My feet are as perfect as the rest of me," she chided. And, placing her arm on James's, they strode off into the springtime air.

-

They sat in their booth, watching the story unfold before them. Of course, Cordelia had always known it. She may not feel as strong a connection to the princesses in the western canon as she did to the heroes that graced the Shahnameh's pages, but she did have some experience with fairy tales, both dark and otherwise. The evil stepsisters began cutting off chunks of her feet, and Cordelia felt riveted despite knowing the ending. "Is this an excellent rendition," she whispered to James, "or is it simply the champagne?"

"Oh, champagne. Definitely." James's voice held such conviction that Cordelia found herself believing him entirely. "I do not understand how these women thought that the loss of limbs would be worth the fame and fortune of royalty." He shuddered.

"I am certain that counting their money might improve their mood," Cordelia said. "Though I do doubt that the money would be enough to cover the hospital expenses after an at-home amputation..."

"Not a lot of foresight there," James agreed.

And they watched until the prince found Cinderella and sat before her, her foot sliding into the slipper like a glove on a hand. Cordelia's face felt warm as she remembered how James had bent before her earlier, how he had smiled up at her in the same way that this man was now looking at the beautiful Cinderella as though she had hung the moon.

And she felt warmer still when they began kissing.

Cordelia raised a gloved hand to her lips and brushed over them gently. Perhaps James...

But no. James was not looking at her at all; his body was as stiff as the heavy oak accents in the theatre as he seemed to single-mindedly focus on the play. As though transfixed, he watched the setup of the wedding scene...

"Horrid birds," he whispered to her as the stepsisters' eyes were pecked out by some very fake-looking pigeons. "It's as my father says. One can never trust them."

"I thought that was just ducks?"

"I think we're well beyond that," James said darkly, and Cordelia stifled a laugh. She assessed James in the darkness; his eyes were clever, all gleaming light and liquid gold. And his lips were slightly parted, soft and sweet. Now that she had imagined it, Cordelia felt horribly needy; she wished to be kissed, now, and by the Angel she would be.

So as soon as the curtain closed, Cordelia grabbed James's hand. Their programs slid to the ground, but who truly cared about something so mundane as a program? The memories were the only keepsake Cordelia needed, she decided, and James would need to contend with whatever complaints he may have on his own time. She could not fathom that he would be too forlorn, considering that he was walking after her just as quickly as she was dragging him.

They made it into another room, a smaller theatre, one that oddly reminded her of the Whispering Room in which they had shared their first kiss nearly two years ago.

She grabbed his hand and pressed him up against one wall hard. Her hand wove its way around his head, and she breathed him in, pulled her close. James's lips tasted as sweet and bubbly as the champagne they had enjoyed, and Cordelia hoped that hers held a harder edge as she moved against him, loosening his tie, pushing up against his body...

"I think it's time to go home," James said, pulling away with dark, blazing eyes.

Cordelia could not agree more.

[thedeadtravelfast]

No Context WIP Tag Game

soooooooo flattered @goblins-riddles-or-frocks tagged me for this, it's like Goethe going "hey can I see some of your work?" uhhhh YES FUCK YES????

"This is all...it's so beautiful."

"Of course it is. Do you think I would go through all this effort and not have be beautiful?" He turned and approached me, a bright orange blossom with red-edged petals twirling in his fingers. 

He lifted the flower and carefully wove it in my hair, his fingers gently tugging at the strands. I felt my heart seize, as if he had reached into my breast and squeezed it, and even when he took his hands away it didn't relax. 

"But of course, none of it is as beautiful as you," he said and smiled warmly. 

I struggled to suppress the blushing raging in my cheeks but I could feel it glowing hotly, so instead I turned my face away and pretended to be enraptured by a grafted vine of orchids. 

I could feel Koschei's eyes on me, like a string attached to my every aspect so my every breath and movement had a sense of pulling at him, tempting him. I had never thought myself tempting before; before Koschei wanted me because he wanted everything, not for any particular reason. But now I felt wanted for a reason, for myself, that I in and of myself with all my features and manners and essence was tempting to him. 

It felt like a kind of power, to hold someone--someone like him--captive. I had before never understood what drove the women around him to act as they did, to be so loose and so giving, but now I saw what that kind of action could possibly wrought in a man. It was delicious in an intoxicatingly frighteningly way.

I felt him draw close behind me, too close for me to turn around. I felt his fingers touching the end of my hair, so gently it was as if the wind were breathing on it.

I couldn't breath. I wasn't aware of anything else except his fingers, too close and yet far. It was gripping the flower so tightly in my hands that I saw the blossom shivering. 

Koschei leaned forward and I felt his body hovering just against mine, not pressing but within of breath of doing so. His face was drawn beside my ear and he whispered in it with breath so hot I almost flinched: 

"May I kiss you, tsarina?"

I felt like the strings on an instrument--what sort I couldn't even think of at the moment--wound and wound until I was going to snap. "No," I breathed, I don't even know how I managed it.

"May I know why I am denied?" 

"You know why."

There was a long pause and he leaned so his lips were brushed ever so slightly against my neck. My flesh erupted with an icy flame and I thought I was going to faint; my whole body was sent into mindless, seething wildness that I only barely contained, clasping the stem of the flower so I felt it cracking in my hands.

"I promise if you let me have this one kiss, I won't ask for anything more." His voice was low and rasped, it almost sounded desperate. 

It was the closest to a true request I had ever heard from him. It was the first time I had something he truly wanted but could not wrest from me, something he had to beg me for, something I could withhold. 

But I didn't want to. Or perhaps I did, perhaps that was his power, to make you want to give what he wanted. To make you think you had to give it, that you 'wanted' to give it. 

"I don't believe you," I finally, miraculously, spoke. 

"Is that the only reason, you don't trust me?" His voice was lilting, almost singing, I felt his body rocking almost inperceptively, towards me then away, again and again. I felt the pull, the urge to follow after him, to move to the music that seemed to be thrumming between us, made by us.

It was thrilling yet soothing all once, to be joined with someone in the creating of something so new and strange. It felt secure because it was with him, in unison with his will and his intent and his hope...but all of that also made it terribly, horribly perilous. 

But no. It wasn't him alone that was making this perilous. 

So again I said, "No."

"Why else then?"

'I don't trust myself.'

But I didn't say it, because if I gave it voice, a form, it would overtake me. So I stared at the flower in my hand and focused all my breathlessness and anticipation on it's luscious and tender blossom, imagining I could imbue it with all the heat of that moment and remove it from me. Like Koschei had done with his soul.

For the first time I thought of how 'useful' that could be, to have the ability to take all your weakness and vulnerability and sever it from yourself; to become steady and solid like a stone, untouchable. 

Untouched was the last thing I felt now, even though he hand't laid a hand on me. 

I could still feel his breath on my face, how terrifyingly, temptingly close he was, and I was locked in a terrible, desirous moment where I thought he 'might' touch me and I was certain, as certain as the breath I kept trapped in my lungs, I was about to be either swallowed by the sensation or driven raving mad by it. 

But he pulled away suddenly and I was so overcome that I didn't even have enough presence of mind to be embarrassed by the gasp I gave. The world seemed to abruptly straighten and fall back into its customary place, the warmth and rosiness vanished, and I was frightened by how sorry I was for it.

"It's terribly warm in here," he was saying, staring causally down the path we had come up, his hands clasped behind his back. "There's a place here somewhere where we can cool down."

I already felt colder, but I didn't say that.

His voice was completely causal, but that suddenly seemed shockingly formal after the 'intimacy' of the moment before. If he had spoken to me with complete formality, restraint and distance, it would have made more sense to me. But he walked down the path almost lazily, leaning every now and then to eye a planet or bird that happened to catch his attention. 

How could he do that, be on the verge, the precipice of something so momentous and then walk away as if he has forgotten, as if it were nothing. 

It probably had been nothing, to him; how many times had he gotten exactly what he asked for from moments like these? 

But then again, how could something like that ever grow meaningless, it couldn't divorce itself from the expectancy and that had to come from wanting, and to want is to risk being denied, and how can that not be eternally dreadful and wonderful?

I had denied it and I still felt the rush, the staggering extraordinariness of it, and for it to be satisfied--

I had to stop. I couldn't think about it, about that. It wasn't safe.      

I followed slowly behind him, keeping a wide space between us that I kept expecting him to comment on but he never did. That made it worse, I was certain he understood exactly why, and I was possessed enough of my sense to now be ashamed of what I nearly allowed. And what I was still wishing had happened. 

I wanted to leave this place and get as far away from him as I could manage; I would ask Natalya to set me to work in the kitchen, suffocate this longing with the heat of the oven and scalding of the dishwater, or to ask Peter if he would let me clean the floor of the ballroom, squash this yearning by scrubbing until my hands blistered and my knees ached. 

But of course I couldn't find my way out on my own and I was afraid to speak to him, I did not trust my voice or my words. I kept envisioning myself opening my mouth only to ask him to come back, to kiss me, to touch me, to do whatever he could think of that I could not even imagine.

Oh God, I was going to be sick. Sick with wanting it; from the crave and the dread and the humiliation of it. 

Oh God forgive me, God help me, deliver me, deliver me, deliver me from temptation...

"Here it is!" he exclaimed and I almost cried out I was so startled. "I knew it was around this place somewhere." 

He stepped off the path and through a parting in the foliage. I stood where he had gone in and watched as he entered a small clearing made for a grand fountain of stone. It was carved with a beautiful woman clothed only in a long cloth that clung to her sumptuous figure; her long arms, appearing soft despite being carved of rock, embraced a large vase from which the water sprung. 

He planted his foot on the edge of the fountain ringing the statue and bent to splash water in his face. He ran his dripping hand through his hair, causing his dark curls to tangle and fall carelessly out of place. 

His chest rose and fell in a deep exhale and he unfastened the top buttons of his shirt, rubbing his neck so his skin glistened with water. 

I couldn't see straight, I couldn't see anything but him. The whole world had fallen away and I felt my inhibitions, my wisdom and good sense, slipping after them. I felt like I was falling through some invisible hole with no end and no way to rise again. 

Koschei turned to look at me and even with the distance between us, I saw his eyes, I 'felt' them, more clearly than anything else in that place. 

"Come over, the water is lovely," he said. There was nothing suggested in his voice but I knew, 'I knew I knew I knew', that if I could see his eyes from my place he could see mine and perceive my state. 

I was not so skilled in hiddenness as he, I couldn't even comprehend how anyone could hide what I held within, and he was mature and seasoned in divining and provoking such things.  

"Maryushka," he said and held out his hand, the hand he had run through his hair and across his skin, still dripping with water. 

And I saw in that exact moment, exactly because he spoke my name not as a request but as an affirmation, what would happen next. 

And I dropped the flower, turned away, and ran. 

I didn't get far before I heard him calling after me but now the momentum of the act, of putting my mind and body at work together to flee, gave me newfound strength. So I didn't hesitate but pushed myself faster, the garden whirling by in a dizzying, sickening blur of confused colors. 

Suddenly, Koschei appeared into my path; or perhaps he materialized there with magic, I could not tell. I ran right into his arms, his hands taking hold of my shoulders.

"Where are you going--" he began but was interrupted as I began to struggle violently in his grasp and his fingers tightened, his hold became inextricable. 

I felt panic rearing in me at having 'his hands on me' and sensations it sent spinning through my body. I felt my center beginning to melt; I could see myself falling into his embrace, I could imagine what it would feel like to have his arms drawn around me, pressing me to him, to his body, to his skin--

I so desperately, maddeningly 'wanted it', it was so irrational and frenzied, I couldn't think of a clear reason as to why here, why now. I felt I must be going insane. 

"Let me go!" I cried and to wrench myself away, thrashing violently but I couldn't even pull an inch away from him. 

He was looking down at me, frowning in confusion. "What is this--"

I began to kick at him, striking his shins, and scratching at his arms with my nails. He released me like I was something venomous, his expression one of utter astonishment. 

"Maryushka--!"

"No!" I screamed and screamed it again, lashing at his hands with my arms as if I were fending off a wild beast. I wanted to hit him, I wanted him to disappear, I wanted him erased from my mind. 

He didn't try to stop my blows or avoid them but rather simply stepped away and I didn't try to reach for him or step towards him. 

For a moment we stood like that, apart, him staring and me shaking. I realized I was crying, I couldn't at first tell my gasping for breath apart from my sobs. He kept staring at me with a look of total bewilderment and finally he asked, "What is this?" 

When I didn't answer, I was completely incapable of speech, he said, "Maryushka, what happened? We were having such a good time..."

"I want to leave!" I wrung my hands as if I could squeeze the hysteria out through them or break them off along with all this manic delirium. "I need to leave here!"

"Leave? Already? We haven't been here an hour!" 

"Right now, right now!" My voice became overwhelmed with sobs and I covered my face with hands. I want to shrink until I was nothing, until I disappeared from everyone and everything and could never feel anything again.  

I heard Koschei say gently, "You don't have to leave, I will go if you want me to." 

'But I don't want to be here without you. I don't want to be anywhere but with you.' 

"No, I want to back to my room. To my work."

There was silence for a moment then I heard the murmuring of an incantation and then felt myself caught in that familiar pulling spin before collapsing on the floor of my room. 

Koschei then walked right past me and out my door, closing it behind him without a word. I rose shakily to my feet and threw myself on my bed, still wracked with weeping.

[psychics4unet]

Hi! This is my feedback for the free reading.

First off, thank you. This was so validating. I mean, I know I'm doing my best but I didn't expect the reading to say that I'm having a strong impact on the students. I honestly didn't see it. Also, it's good to know that they feel nurtured in the environment I'm creating. That's always been my goal. I believe one can be stern in teaching without needing to use force.

Also, this reading gave me a different perspective as I'm currently undergoing different challenging situations right now, and sometimes they get to me and blur my vision of reality from time-to-time. I really appreciate you mentioning my dedication and enthusiasm.

Also, thank you for the reminder of balancing work with rest. I try to do it but sometimes, I still have the urge to work more and I'm working on letting myself completely rest when I have to.

Thanks for this reading again 😊

Hi!

Thank you so much for your kind words and feedback 😊. I’m really glad to hear that the reading resonated with you and provided validation for the positive impact you're having on your students 🌟. It’s wonderful to know that the nurturing environment you’re creating is being felt and appreciated, as that truly aligns with your goal of teaching with kindness and without force 💖.

I’m also pleased to hear that the reading offered a fresh perspective during your challenging times. It’s important to remember how your dedication and enthusiasm are truly making a difference, even when things get tough 💪. And yes, balancing work and rest is crucial. It’s great that you’re working on allowing yourself to fully rest and recharge when needed 🌿.

Thank you again for your feedback, Have a wonderful day! 😊🍀

[binarybitex]

Since today is appreciation day, I obviously had to send something in ^^ This is going to be really long because I have a lot to ramble about -w-

Let's start with the obvious. Cardboard Castle. I FUCKING LOVE IT!!! I feel so lucky to have been graced with an over 100k-long slow burn with my favorite pair. You had my ass checking the tag every day to see if it had gotten an update. Every chapter is amazing, but 4 and 5 have to be my favorite. Something about them is just… idk. Maybe it's because I absolutely love carnivals and go to them every chance I get, and the way you described them it just made me feel like I was reliving them. Plus the corn maze scene?? Dawg you had me feeling like Sebastian thinking “Just kiss him!!” The fact that it’s not really a date, but totally is. Just reading it makes me feel so festive, no matter the time of year. Thinking about it now I have the urge to make some apple cider. With all the inspiration I get from it: here’s a little mood board based on it!

As for chapter 5, I really just enjoyed the dialogue at the end. The vibes are also immaculate. I can enjoy a good angsty fic like the next guy, but David and Max just bonding with each other and being mundane makes me feel so soft. The dialogue really felt like two people just going over old memories. In your author’s note, you mentioned it would be a boring chapter, but I feel like it was anything but boring. Whenever I want to read something fluffy, I always go back to that chapter. Plus what Max did to Charly was hilarious. I don’t have as much to say about this one as I did chapter 4, but nonetheless, I love it!! To be honest, it was after reading chapter 5 that I really got into writing and decided to upload my work/become more active in the maxvid community as a whole.

And onto Heart Hallow ;D I don’t usually find myself getting into OC projects, but when webtoons recommended it to me, I was like “I’ll give it a go” AND I’M GLAD I DID BECAUSE AJDGWMEOWHFE. I adore the characters, the drawings (particularly the coloring you do for each panel!), and the little stories they go through each chapter. I can tell so much love went into it from just seeing how you talk about it when asked. Kara is up there as one of my favs (yes because she’s Aroace but it has a good personality!! I just like seeing Aroace characters >w>) but Lewis and Zeke are my top too. On several of my assignments, I have Z + L scribbled on them surrounded by hearts. It has driven my friends crazy trying to figure out who they are LMAO.

And just like I do with all my favorite media, I had to insert my OC in there somewhere :3 So, Spencer! I had a lot of fun filling out her card and doing the little edit. She managed to sneak her way into employment at HH (I’m not creative, please just accept this.) and is one of the housekeepers. So two things about her. One, she’s an artist. She does a lot of landscapes/portraits. And two, she’s super messy. Which is why she has a bunch of paint all over her! She’s good at getting it out though.

Anyways, the reason that she has paint all over her is that she noticed a lot of the walls at the hotel needed to be touched up, and since she’s really good with matching colors (make-up artist), she used what paint the hotel did have to create the color needed to re-paint the walls. Then she heard about the old murals that used to be on the walls (probably from Lewis) and was like, “Wait a second. I can paint landscapes. I should do that!” So she got (dubious) permission from Mr. Wright and got to painting! She does it whenever she has time. Mr. Wright seems like he wouldn’t care, cause free art. So yeah. She does a lot of painting so constantly dirty, much to Lewis’s annoyance. And every holiday she gives all her co-workers paintings because it's cheap and easy.

And some doodles :> Not the greatest artist but I like to think I’m funny.

She suffers from having bad taste in men disease :( Her two friends, Ava and Mia run a bakery and anytime they have leftovers they give them to her. If she has anything left from that she’ll take in with her to share the next day. She is also super tall (6’5) because it's funny to insert her into a show/movie/comic and have her be the tallest person there. I also had another meme in mind but I don’t think I’ll finish it in time so be prepared for a random meme in your DMs one day.

And that’s it. Sorry it’s so long, I just want to make sure I say everything on my mind!! You’re super cool and I love your stuff and keep up the good work :3 Have a great day!!! (again your art is really nice to look at ok bye)

hi omg!! this is the most pleasant thing to open my phone up to and I just have to thank you for taking the time to write all this to me! 🫶

I'm beyond elated you've loved cardboard castles as much as me. it's my baby, and chapters 4&5 are my favorites too! I LOVE the moodboard!! omg!! srsly you did such an amazing job with it!

and Spencer is adorable !! I had a feeling you might have been coming up with an OC 👀 she'd fit right in with the cast. love how tall she is... the fact that she's taller than lewis is just 🤌and we're definitely missing a creative personality type at Heart Hollow! (for now. a new character gets released soon towards the end of book 1. she's an eccentric artsy kinda woman herself!)

your art is so cute, I love your style!! and the fact you filled out an employee sheet for spencer makes me so happy 🫶

have a lovely day and I hope that you'll send some more stuff my way! my asks are always open :-)

(btw ur ask totally made my day!!!!)

[ikamigami]

So... I feel slightly better.. and I watched the latest episode... and all I can say is that I've always knew that's how Sun feels about himself.

My thoughts may disturb some of y'all so I decided to put them under the cut.

Believe me when I say that Sun trying to reason with his dark thoughts won't change anything... trust me.. I was there so many f-ing times... so many... You just keep fighting with those thoughts and feelings.. but you can't win this battle... No matter how hard you try...

I know that I've said that many times already.. but I can see my past-self in Sun... The only difference is the killing part and psychosis... and maybe the cleaning stuff cause I don't have an OCD and I wasn't coping with cleaning etc. For me it was always listening to music, playing with my siblings, watching movies or some funny dumb shit on YT.. or I was just creating some fictional stories to forget about how I feel about myself...

And I can relate not only to self doubt and hate.. but also the urges... All these intrusive thoughts.. they don't make you a bad person.. but you truly think that you're bad for having those thoughts... If you've never dealt with intrusive thoughts you don't know how hard is to let go of them.. to accept the fact that they're just thoughts.. and you're not truly like that...

That's why.. all those comments saying that Sun is truly bad.. hurt me like hell... Or when I saw that people tried to put Sun's angry or rude moments together with how toxic Old Moon was or with how awful Eclipse is to the one bag... irked me so much... "Oh they all suck blah blah blah", no. Sun always tried his best and always thought about others well-being and their feelings.

Sun also made mistakes but you can't put it in the same bag with what Old Moon, Eclipse, Bloodmoon and KC did... You can't and shouldn't...

And like I said.. Sun won't open up about his problems. This is how this works. Either someone will see that and help Sun.. or it'll end up badly... But not that Sun will turn evil because he'll snap!! For the love of all that exist, Sun is suffering!! He might hurt someone, yes.. but not intentionally!! And I fear that this time he'll harm himself...

He still has hallucinations because it was only a month more or less after he had psychotic episode. He still suffers the aftermath of that. And I'm really afraid that he'll have another psychotic episode during July. And when you have psychotic episodes you're not fully responsible for what you did because you act on your delusions and act accordingly to your hallucinations.

Sun is suffering.. and no one knows about it... I wish that computer would help Sun.. but I doubt that cause he doesn't care about Sun... It's either that or Eclipse is using computer to make Sun suffer more.

People think that the person who followed Sun at the end of the video is either Lunar's ghost or KC or creator's bot.. but I think that might be Eclipse cause we saw that low camera before when Eclipse disappeared after he talked with Monty in their spaceship. I assumed that Eclipse was observing Monty and he knows that Lunar will be revived.

I really believe that Eclipse is driving Sun more crazy and.. I wouldn't put that past Eclipse to try to make Sun feel so guilty and miserable that he would consider taking his own life... I really wouldn't put that past Eclipse to try to drive Sun into su*c*de...

Because Eclipse truly hates Sun and would do anything to cause Sun pain.

I've always knew that Sun feels su*c*dal... because I saw all those signs... and I also felt like that and I also considered to take my own life but that's beside the point hdjdnxbsksbsbzjsnnz

I'm scared for Sun... cause I don't know what showrunners will do next... How they'll screw with Sun next time... Ksvskdbskjsjsbsjskhxv

I hope that someone will see what's going on with Sun and will finally give the help Sun needs...

And sorry for my poor English...

[bananastarion]

hello :)

I saw your post about you deleting your own art. I think a lot of people on here know the feeling, I know I certainly do. I immediately felt weirdly grandmotherly about what you said in your tags, like, oh no! oh poor baby! here, have some raisin cookies and some tea, let me hug you, nanny's here or whatever X)

I have deleted some stuff in the past as well (I write). It can feel better this way, it's a kind of mental hygiene, yea?

But listen, honey. That's the point. I'm making a bit of an assumption here, but to me it's downright terrifying to post the thing I've poured my heart and soul into and send it out into the webs. Maybe it's a little like taking your kid too school for the first time. If it (your art) doesn't do as well, if, for some reason, it doesn't seem to resonate with your audience as much as it does with you, that's incredibly hurtful.

So, because I feel that pain, I really do, I'd like to share THE best creative advice I've ever gotten:

When I was experiencing bad writer's blog, a GORGEOUS writer here on tumblr whom I admire very much, said this: "We (writers and artists) are capable of an incredible feat of self love. Ideas build up in our heads, long before we start actually creating. Then, one day, out of the blue, we sit down and type the first word" (or draw the first pencil stroke in your case, yes?) "people who don't create, have no idea how much it takes to do that." And that will probably never change. Sad, but true. That is sometimes reflected in the amount of response we get. (fuck notes am i right) Letting yourself get too dependent on that can feel really poisonous. It is, I believe, the exact opposite of that self love. The perceived "love" other people show for our work. It sucks the life right out of you. Everybody feels the need for that praise. When we fall in love with another person, we feel the same urge to tell them and shout it out into the world. But we also have that instinct to keep it (the love, the art) to ourselves, protect and shelter it. Think of a teenager in love for the first time. They may be more likely to blurt it out, unaware that people don't always respond to us as tenderly as we may wish. And that hurts, like hell.

But no matter how frustrated you get, always, always try to find your back to that! The self love! And self love doesn't mean seeing no flaws in your art, never criticizing or questioning what you do and how "well" you do it. It means to KEEP DOING IT, no matter what. Take breaks if you need to, breaks are great. But always get back to the self love. That is why we do it, I think.

So post if you feel ready for it. Or don't if you need to swaddle that babe for a little while longer (what). But keep creating and keep loving it.

If you need a partner in crime and art, please: feel free to hit me up anytime. We could be accountability buddies, or art buddies or the agony-that-is-the-creative-process-buddies, or just friends :)

And if this monstrositiy of unsolicited advice is totally missing the point, feel free to ignore me. :)

Sorry it took me a minute to get back to you, I've been super busy this week helping my dad plan a wine dinner ahdjkfh it's a whole thing... anyway.

It was really kind of you to take the time to write all of this for a stranger, so thank you. I used to be a prolific writer and artist, it would just flow out of me effortlessly. It was never on a professional level or anything, but I didn't do it to impress anyone. I did it entirely for myself.

Then some things happened in my life that destroyed my confidence (not just in my art, but in general) and my creativity suffered immensely. I developed a terrible block that has lasted for years, with no end in sight. Every time I try to get back into things, I find myself frustrated that my output isn't even close to par with what I had done years ago. And most of my work from the past has been lost or destroyed, so I have nothing to show for it. It feels so frustrating, like some part of me has been lost that I can't recover, and now that I'm older it feels too late to bother trying to get it back. So when I finally, actually try while fighting my block every step of the way, putting in a tremendous effort for a lackluster result, only to have my perceptions (seemingly) confirmed by receiving no validation, it really hurt me in a way I wasn't expecting it to. I was considered a prodigy as a child, but my skills quickly stagnated and declined as I got older due to mental health issues... I feel like I let everyone who once believed in me down. Even my own mom, who has a masters degree in art, said "You were good for a child, but you're just not very good anymore. Maybe it's time to find something else", and that was kind of the final nail in the coffin for me.

I think you hit the nail (different nail than the one in the coffin...lol) on the head, that it's not my creativity I've lost, but my self love. Your insight was beautifully said, and rings true. Sorry to just dump my life story on you here, but thanks for listening and caring. It sounds like you can relate, and I'm sorry that you can, but I'd be happy to help encourage you and engage with your creative work as well! Hit me up any time! You seem like an awesome person, and your message was in tune and on time for me. :)

[mxsinizter]

would you feel comfortable explaining your own experience of aegosexuality?

cogs are turning in my head thanks to your ifrit/mountain fic because i actually used to identify as autochoris/aego but kind of.. scrapped the possibility once i discovered that i had a sex drive? because in my head ace people couldn't have sex drives (which, i know now, is entirely not the case) my point is; the way you wrote mountain and his shame afterwards, (as well as the definition of aegosexual on the sexuality wiki) resonates with me quite a bit. but i'm struggling to pinpoint if it's an asexuality thing or maybe something else, and i was hoping that an insight into someone's personal thoughts or experiences might help?

if you're not comfortable sharing, that's completely fine too, of course!!! i know how personal some of this stuff can get! and i'm so sorry for this paragraph of an ask, haha :')

HII! YES OF COURSEE! I'll gladly share if it can help :] no need to apologize

(This is a very long response oops, I hope I answered your questions? I am open to answering any more tho <3)

First off, yea, sex drive doesn't define it. I experience times of a very high libido myself, so that shouldn't be reason to scrap ace identities! Especially with autochoris/aego, many of us deal with a sex drive that is not on the low side. The shame part, especially for me can be tied to that! Listening to urges and 'fulfilling' them don't always end... happily for me. It brings a discomfort when it hits me that yea, my arousal made me do that, made me think that, and made me cross that boundary that kept me disconnected from it, something I found fun in theory. (you mentioned 'or something else'... for me that something else is occasionally my own insecurity or bottom dysphoria, so I get that, but I personally am sure that many of the times it mainly stems from being aego.)

With the way I wrote Mountain and that shame.. was a sort of build up of 'oh, would you look at that, my dick finds this very arousing' to 'okay, I find this very arousing' and going into a mental state where the situation is acceptable and something he wants to gain pleasure from. Then with the parts where his imagination wants to run wild, its like him wanting to gain control of what's going on and have fun with it and sort of blind himself from the fact that he was openly jerking off to it lol. (That's why I gave little details of what he was doing there and focused on the show Ifrit was putting on instead and his pov! Bc that's what Mount was fully focused on too!) So then we see that build up of "shame" have him like 'ew, I did that, my body did that and I enjoyed it'. It felt... too real? It's a sort of repulsion caused by the fact that the action is not just in your head/distant from you anymore (I really experience that). That discomfort sometimes doesn't even let you enjoy the afterglow and it sucks. So that comfort Ifrit wants to provide and telling him that he did well and that it was okay, is massive to him. Like, its okay for you to feel this for yourself and let your physical body experience it as well.

(I am for sure making a post about Ifrit's choices now, cause I think those are important to understand how intune he was with Mountain's needs and boundaries.)

But not all aegos feel this so strongly, I happen to and so I wanted to hint at it in the fic. (like even when writing fics, I'll write them, look them over once or twice for basic mistakes, then just post them bc I can't get myself to reread something like that that I created... so my first drafts are basically my final drafts LMAOO. I have a fic idea I haven't been able to write cause I think it'd take too much out of me to do it myself, but I could easily read someone else's work of something just as filthy because it isn't coming from me y'know? I don't have to think about all the mechanics of what is being done.)

I think it really helps to differentiate everything physical and everything mental, understanding what triggers or turns off your arousal, and how you experience attraction. Like you might know already when it comes to fantasizing, many aegos will experience it from the third person view and not include themselves. If they do, it's probably more of a persona of their creation that may have some resemblance, but is separate enough to not actually be them? (I am occasionally guilty of this lol) And with arousal, understanding boundaries and what is needed to reach satisfaction. Its accepting that sometimes that bad feeling is unavoidable and learning how to deal with it and making it a better feeling. Understanding how I experience attraction actually helped me settle on this identity. (I'm on both the aro and ace spec for reference.) Personality, aesthetic attraction, and how much I'd want to be friends with someone really dictates how my attraction works. So I realized I really like watching/reading and fantasizing and experiencing through others and that makes my arousal pop off lmao. Fanfics help a lot cause it brings me comfort knowing its characters I am familiar with and having control over what might be included in the sexual acts.

Going back to how I started this response - I can enjoy a piece of smutty media while my libido is high asf and be like yea, this is so fucking good. But would I actually want to be physically involved in the sexual acts I'm watching? No. Am I sexually attracted to the individuals doing the acts? probably not. A silly simple way I described it to someone else is: I'd fuck Mountain, but I also wouldn't, so watching him get fucked works just fine LOL

All that is not to say I wouldn't ever want to have a genuine physical experience with other physical bodies. I personally would and that doesn't change my identity (although does play part in why I'm specifically aego-gray). it would just take A LOT from me and the potential partner(s) for full satisfaction. (And it took me a few years to settle on all of this, so even answering this is helping me further understand.) So ya, I think I've said way too much already lol. That's a bit of my view of it and how I incorporated it into Mountain's character. It's totally okay if you vary from this and still identify with the same label. It's not a race to put a label on oneself either. I hope this insight was at least a bit helpful and interesting to read <3

[mimikoflamemaker]

how is JoO going?

Anon you come into my house...?

Just kidding - You probably couldn't pick a better day that today to ask this to be honest. And to be completely transparent there are several hurdles in JoO writing now.

One - since March I've been working very uncomfortable hours at a job I lost all the remaining fondness for - and those hours almost completely eliminated any and all free time during weekdays Consequently, I've been searching for a new place for myself. And searching for a job as you can probably imagine is no fun. This whole shebang has unfortunately effectively killed my creative urges.

Two - I have written myself into a corner in this particualr chapter - becasue yes next chapter is being written - and I am fiding it incredibly hard to work that particular problem out, becasue I don't have anybody to bounce it off of and I can't simply skip that particular scene, becasue it is pertaining to the theme of mortality seen through elf eyes I've been toying with throughout the story.

Three - there is only so many hours I can spend on this stuff and, hoping that it will make my brain click into place I've been pursuing crativity via other crafts - I am a larper and my costumes are not going to magically materialize themselves into my wardrobe. I find creating actual, physical objects with my hands incredibly rewarding and I needed that feeling in time when I felt terribly undervalued in my day to day job and my self worth suffered from it.

So to put it simply I have a lot on my plate - I am happy to report however that things are lokking up on the job searching front and as soon as I step into the swing of things in the new role and my life calms down I will be able to, hopefully, commit more time to writing.

Worry not anon JoO is not forgotten - life is just expieriencing bumps.