#also i DID write this first but kept it in my drafts until i forced him to do some other drafts too

[a-spes]

Hi! If you’re taking fic requests, may I request a story with fem!nerd reader whose a loner, paired with popular Wanda, Natasha, or both?

Their friends challenge them to a bet, daring them to make the reader fall for them. As time goes on, they unexpectedly develop real feelings for her. However, on the day the reader confesses to both of them, she discovers the truth, that it was all just a bet, while their friends are present. Reader distances herself, but Wanda and Natasha do everything they can to win her back. Angst and fluff please!

Of course, you don’t have to write this if you’re not comfortable, but thank you regardless! ☺️

A Penny for your Love. (W. M. x N. R. x R.) — Part one. (5.006 words.)

| Tags & Warning — Popular!Natasha Romanoff x Popular!Wanda Maximoff x Looser!Reader. University alternative universe, social anxiety, loneliness, spiralling thoughts, alcohol consumption (just a bit), insecurities (a lot, not gonna lie), cheating (not really), lies, manipulation (or at least not being honest), fluff, angst (a bit).

| A/N — my draft was very (very) long so there will be two parts (or maybe three, i will see). i hope you will enjoy this first part even if it is coming a bit late!

| MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. — next part.

You were sure that no one would notice if you were not here.

And this statement was not the result of dark thoughts, it was a fact. A conclusion so simple that the realization had been agonizing — how did you not realize this sooner? You always knew you were not outstanding, but you never thought you were so.. disposable.

People do not know your name, and those who see you every day barely remember your face. Yet, it has been almost three years. And even though you knew you could not blame them — how could you? You had never exchanged more than a few words with them — the heaviness this fact had placed on your chest was impossible to shake off.

It was your fault.

You were the one who put yourself in this situation. You were the only one who could be blamed for it and, at the same time, the only one who could get you out of it. But the realization came too late, you kept repeating yourself, at that time, the friendships were already made, and you were sure no one would need — or want — a new one.

You were sure no one was as lonely as you were. 

But that was nothing more than an excuse, a reason not to even try, because the truth was that you didn’t feel up to the task. It should be easy, to exchange a few words with the people you saw every day, for more than two years, but it was not. 

Every time you looked at them, you felt your insides knot up. Every time you thought of exchanging a few words with them, you were petrified, not to mention the few times life had forced you to do so. You had uttered a few words whose syllables had become jumbled, your voice trembling as you were saying the words you would regret for the next few years.

It is no surprise that you did not make any friends. 

You are a mess. 

The voice in your head whispers the same thing again, and again, until you can’t do anything but believe its poisonous words. Your fists clenched until your fingernails leave crescent-shaped marks in your palm, you try to push these thoughts away but, deep down, you know. 

There is some truth in these words. 

It was no coincidence that every one of your attempts at making friends had failed, and not just at university. It has always been that way. The loneliness and the yearning to be a part of their world, two feelings that had been tearing you apart since a very young age. 

But you were used to it by now, even enjoying the loneliness sometimes — It has its advantages. These were also words you kept repeating in a pitiful attempt to comfort yourself, more lies. I do not care, you were saying through gritted teeth but, as you were watching them, you could not ignore the jealousy that was creeping up.

And even though you should not, in these moments, you didn’t want anything more than being one of them. You wanted to be the one who laughs at the jokes one of her friends just told her, even if it was lame. To be the one who didn’t have time to finish her meal because she spent the lunch break chatting. The one who was courageous enough to speak up in class, ask the questions that bloom in her mind and give the answers, even when they were wrong. The one who would not have to worry about the group projects because she would already know who she was going to be with, their eyes meeting before the instructions were even given because it was just as obvious as the color of the sky that they would be a group. 

You yearned to be one of those that were brave enough to live, to exist.

But no matter how much you wanted it, you had never managed to get it. The invisible wall that separated you from them was far too thick to be broken that easily, and so you stayed there, watching them from the other side of what seemed to be a one-way mirror — You could see them, but they were unaware of your existence. 

And because wanting something was not enough to get it, you never managed to do more than touch your dreams with your fingertips. For every step you took forward, you felt like you were making three back afterwards.

You were not getting closer to your dream. 

You were moving away from it, drawing in your own mess. 

The few times you had had the impression of being a part of their world had only been illusions that never lasted long. It was nothing more than fragments of what it could be. 

And you wanted more than that.

More than snatches, what you really wanted was a permanent spot in this sweet universe that was theirs. A place where solitude would not be a constraint, but a choice, and yours. Not one that was made by others because they did not deem you worthy of their time.

But life is not a fairy tale. It is cruel, harsh, and the reality catches up with you faster than you would like when your language teacher announces a group project — In pairs.

You do not even look at your classmates, preferring to avoid their gaze by pretending you are writing something on your notebook — you are not, you are just scribbling circles. But the motion helps you to think about how you are going to formulate your request. This teacher is a bit of a boor, you thought, so there is little chance of her agreeing to you doing this project on your own but maybe, maybe with the right words you could change her mind.

The course is continuing, but you are not listening anymore, unable to think about anything other than this stupid assignment, than the conversation you will have at the end of the course. Your breathing has quickened, your hands have become clammy, but even though you keep telling yourself that everything is okay, you can’t calm down. At least not enough to be able to concentrate on the class. The teacher’s words seem far away, and they do not really reach you, as if cotton had been put in your ears.

It is a tap on the shoulder that eventually pulls you out of your thoughts, preventing you from falling further down the rabbit hole into which this whole story was dragging you in. When you turn your head, your eyes land on a pretty redhead — Natasha Romanoff. She is not in your class, being a bit older, so you do not see her much outside the language classes. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she murmured, and you must have looked surprised — perhaps even frightened — because she immediately moved her hand back in a gesture of appeasement. “I wanted to know if you would like to pair up with me?” She said, and you could not help but notice how soft her voice sounded as she was asking you to be her partner for the second time, the words not having reached your ears the first. 

“What?” You replied without thinking, but maybe you should have, it would have prevented you from saying the stupidest thing you could have. The instant the question escapes you, you bite your lip — she must think you are a complete idiot now, well done, you thought.

“For the group project,” she clarified, “would you like to work with me? If you are not already with someone else, of course,” she said, but it was only to sound polite. Despite what you may think, Natasha Romanoff knows you, and she knows that you are a lonely soul, never heard, hardly seen — You may be discreet, but not enough to escape her observant gaze.

Even though it was the third time she had asked the question, you detected no trace of impatience in her tone, no judgment in her eyes, just a certain.. expectation, but you could not tell for what reason.

“Ar-,” — you sure? You wanted to ask, but you swallow the words before you can say them, replacing them by a simple nod. “Yes,” you blurted out the word, your voice being so high-pitched that you winced with embarrassment for a moment. “I mean.. I do not have a partner yet, and I would love to work with you,” you clarified, trying to control your voice, but your excitement hadn’t gone unnoticed by the redhead, nor did the slight tremble of your hands, and she was now smirking — because you looked like you were about to explode, and maybe you were, for real. “My name is-” 

“I know,” she cut you off as she filled in the sheet that was being passed through the rows, writing your name without any hesitation, without a mistake. “Did I write it right?” She asked with feigned care. She already knew that she got it right, and she is not surprised when you nod — she could not say the same about you, though. 

You may belong to two completely different worlds in appearance, one barely existing, always in her sole company, the other always surrounded, her presence hard to ignore. And yet, from the very first lessons, Natasha had found something endearing about you, waiting for the opportunity to approach you without frightening you — and she knew she was not the only one whose gaze you caught.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

Before that evening, the two women had never spoken of you — nor had they ever spoken to you — and you were like a half-confessed secret floating between them, because despite their respective silence, they knew each other too well to not know the truth.

Wanda could see the smile on Natasha’s lips whenever she was coming out of her language classes that, as luck would have it, you had chosen too. And Natasha for sure noticed the sparke in Wanda’s eyes when they landed on you in the corridors, always lingering a little longer than they should on your silhouette.

But they had never been brave enough to put into words what they were feeling, and this desire continued to grow little by little in their hearts. Out of respect, they told themselves, to not admit that it was out of fear — that they would mess everything up.

You were from a very different world. The two women were popular, and all it took was a smile and a few pretty words to get any girl into their bed. Girls who did not care about being a one-night stand, who lived for it, but they could tell that you were not one of them. You were reserved, and solitary, and by the way your fingers trembled and your words tangled at the slightest conversation, they guessed you took things too personally to be satisfied with a one-night stand — you needed time, and attachment.

But they were not sure they would be able to give you what you needed. Their relationship was complicated, messy, it was in their image and that suited them — or almost. And then, out of fear of ruining their chances by taking the first step too soon, or doing things the wrong way, they kept their desires a secret, observing you from afar, pretending it satisfied them. 

Until that night.

From the moment they were dared by their friends to choose a target for their twisted game, your name had been on their minds — it has been evident. And so, despite the initial desire not to disturb your tranquility, they made you their prey. Their judgment had probably been impaired by the few — many — drinks they already had that night, but the cheers of their friends quickly cleared their doubts.

They could have chosen someone else — they should have — there were so many girls who envied them, who wouldn’t have minded being the object of a bet — but where was the fun in that? You were different, you were unreachable, always slipping through their fingers, never exchanging more than a few hesitant words with them, or the others. 

You always left class the instant the bell rang, never leaving your headphones, and music quickly became your only company to the point where it discouraged any of your classmates from trying to bond with you. 

If the women did not know any better, they would have assumed that you were content with your situation, but they had never missed the hint of sadness — and jealousy — that clouded your gaze whenever your eyes landed on the others — nor they had missed the desire in it when you were watching them, thinking they would not notice.

But they always did.

Something in your attitude made them want to wrap their arms around you, to protect you — and to love you — even though they barely know who you are. It is a foreign feeling they had never felt before, not even with each other, their love taking on something completely different, something rougher. 

And maybe that is why the two women did not think about the harm this little game could cause, because for a few hours, under the effects of alcohol, they had forgotten how different your world was from theirs, how much more fragile. 

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

It is only a few days after you first met the redhead that you eventually came across the second one, Wanda, and for a long time you thought that your meeting had been nothing more than a happy — very happy — coincidence.

At that moment, you were at the library working on some of your assignments, or more realistically regretting some of your materials choices — How could a Sokovian language class for beginners be so complicated? A few months ago, it had sounded like an interesting choice, and you had then been thrilled by the possibility of learning a new language. But you soon understood why so few people chose this class; while it sounded appealing on paper, it was nothing less than a nightmare to study.

Despite trying your best, you were piling up the difficulties, falling behind, and you were not sure you would ever be able to catch up, even if they gave you years to do so. The letters and their sounds, the words and their meanings, everything was mixed in your mind, forming an indecipherable mass of information.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when she approached your table. At this point, it was not about studying the material or getting your exercises done anymore, it was about pushing these thoughts away, those which attempted to drag you down, to encourage you to give up — because what is even the point of putting so much energy into something you are going to fail, as everything else you do? 

It is only when she waved her hand in front of your eyes that you noticed her presence, and it took you a few long seconds before you recognized her face.

“Y- yeah?” You stuttered, scrambling to remove your headphones.

“May I sit there? All the seats are taken,” she explained softly, a disappointed pout spreading across her face as she talks. And, unable to refuse — and certainly not wanting to — you hurriedly retrieve your belongings to make room for the brunette. 

What you ignored is that her words were not completely true. While most of the tables were in fact taken, Wanda was not actually looking for a seat. She was already on her way out when she saw you, but it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up — Especially since Natasha had already taken the lead in their little game, and she hated to lose. 

But maybe you should have said no, because from the moment she sat down, you have been unable to concentrate on your work. All your thoughts were directed to the woman, especially since you could feel her gaze on you as she watched what you were doing.

If her gaze was filled with curiosity, you could not help but imagine judgment in it — What would she think of you if you wrote something really wrong and really stupid? Suddenly, your breathing was a little faster, your hands clammy, forcing you to readjust your grip on your pen several times, and your mind too foggy to be able to do more than pretending to be thinking.

Why did you say yes, already? 

Partially because you didn’t know how to say no, mainly because you were so delirious that a part of you was hoping to become friends with the woman, exactly like in fiction where the most beautiful relationships were starting with insignificant, unexpected encounters. It was stupid, and you were perfectly aware of that, already regretting your choice — You should have lied, it wouldn't have been that hard, would it? But the words came too late to your mind, and you were now stuck with that girl until one of you decided to leave.

The minutes stretched until they seemed interminable, as if the seconds had stopped ticking. None of you were doing anything, and she hadn’t even bothered to — or at least pretend to — mind her own business, never taking out her notebooks, never letting her eyes leave your worksheets for a minute. 

When she finally spoke, you looked at her with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. If you didn’t understand the meaning behind her words, you could still recognize them as Sokovian — And by the way she pointed to your sheet while talking, you guessed she had seen every one of your mistakes. 

But she had not been mean about it, and even the smirk she wore was not mischievous, just very frustrating as you would learn later. The girl — Wanda, as she will let you know in a few minutes — even kindly offered you a little help, probably out of pity, which you tried to refuse. But your lies were not very convincing. 

“That’s nice, but I am doing just fine,” you replied, your words sounding a little harsher than they did in your head. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind, her smile not faltering. 

“Are you sure?” She asked back, tilting her head slightly to the side. But she already knew the answer, you both did, and it was no surprise that you eventually admitted that you in fact needed a little help with your lessons. 

“Actually, no,” you conceded, and the chuckle that escaped her lips was so infectious that you forgot your own embarrassment for a moment, a soft laugh escaping yours too.

And if at first you felt bad about accepting her help, that feeling quickly faded as a routine set in. At least twice a week, the two of you would meet at the library so she could help with your language lessons — And damn, you really needed this help. Surprisingly, the woman never lost her patience, and even when you thought she would hate you for making her repeat the same thing dozens of times, she did not, always remaining benevolent.

You appreciated these moments more than you would admit it. Wanda’s presence was breaking your loneliness a bit, even though you were not sure if you two could be considered as friends since you’ve never met outside of the library’s walls.

“Why does it have to be so difficult?” You mumble, and these are the words that usually conclude your sessions, marking the moment when you despair overcomes your determination. Most of the time, they are accompanied by a groan as you lean dramatically on the table, knowing it would make her laugh. A sound you loved to hear because it made your heart beat like never before. A sweet, warm feeling that spreads through your whole being. 

At that point, she always whispers the same words that you can’t understand. And whenever you ask her about their meaning, she refuses to give you the answer. “It will give you a reason to study,” is the response she gives you every time. And as she talks, there is that unnerving smirk dancing at the corner of her lips. 

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

Since you have met the women, something has shifted in your attitude. It was nothing obvious, but it was still enough for them to notice. You were a bit more confident, sometimes even initiating contact with them instead of dodging their eyes. and you let in a glimpse of yourself you'd usually kept hidden. More relaxed, less withdrawn.

And you felt it too, this change.  

The past few weeks, the fear that used to knot your insides had been replaced by a kind of enthusiasm. It was driven by the fact that you knew you would see them whenever you were at university, and even though you were not talking much with them outside of your work sessions, you were looking forward to crossing their paths. The women always had a smile or a lingering hand to spare, and these small gestures meant everything to you as they never failed to make your days much better than they were.

Honestly, if you haven’t yet seen any of them outside university, it was mainly your fault. Despite how great everything was going, there was still this lingering fear you couldn’t get rid off — It was this voice. The one that never failed to remind you how much people must hate you, how much you hated yourself. And it was always here to remind you that the women will dump you at your first mistake, because it is sure you will end up making one. You always do, ending up ruining all the good things you were given. 

Studying at the library with Wanda, or working on your group project in a coffee shop with Natasha, it was easy, familiar and you knew how to do it without messing it up. So every time they have tried to propose something different — and damn, they have tried so many times — you’ve come up with an excuse, always being too busy to do anything else than studying.

In reality, the only thing you have been busy with was drowning in your own thoughts. Despite how well things were going with them, you were still not sure if you could really be friends, let alone being more, as your delusional mind liked to hope sometimes.  

They are popular, and so are their friends. They go to parties every Thursday, where they probably drink and smoke. They do not worry about everything, and are not scared by everyone. They are pretty, funny, and confident. In other words, these people were everything you were not. They knew how to live, something you did not, and you knew they would notice that you weren’t like them the moment you would meet — And what if they judge you for that? What if they do not like you? Or worse, what if they talk about it with Wanda and Natasha, and the women eventually realize how lame you are ? 

But tonight had been different, because this time you had said yes to them — more specifically to the redhead. When she told you she was having a party at her place, you were ready to decline before she even got a chance to finish her sentence. Yet, this time, Natasha had refused to take no for an answer, and after several long minutes of trying to convince — and reassure — you, you eventually agreed. But it was only after she told you — multiple times — that it wasn’t really a party, only a small gathering with a few friends to celebrate the end of the exams.

A choice you were now regretting. 

You have never felt so out of place than the moment you walked through that door, entering a universe that was foreign to you — Natasha and you definitely didn’t have the same definition of a “small gathering.” When you didn’t immediately see the redhead, the thought of leaving crossed your mind because it suddenly felt impossible. Until then, you knew the steps you had to follow perfectly — choosing an outfit, coming there, not too late but not too early, bringing a little something — but now? 

Now, you were not sure, and this uncertainty was already gnawing at you — Should you send her a message? But what if she forgot about you, or doesn’t want to stay with you all night? Should you get yourself a drink? 

The weight on your chest grew heavier with each passing second, but the moment your eyes met hers, it was gone. You weren’t aware of it, but she saw you the moment you entered the room. You had this ability to absorb all her concentration, to the point where she wasn’t listening to the conversation she was engaged in anymore.

You hadn’t planned what happened in the following hours. It just happened, one event after another, and you just let it happen. At the same time, after a drink, or two — or maybe three — you weren't really able to think anymore. This too, you didn’t foresee. But you have been unable to refuse the glasses that some people kept handing you, a part of your actions being driven by the desire to be like them, or at least pretend to be for one night.

“I think you had more than enough for tonight, malyshka,” she intervened at some point, fetching the drink someone was handing you before you could grab it.

“Noo,” you whined in response. The redhead may was right, but the action still felt really unfair in the moment, and you couldn’t help but pout as you witnessed your drink being taken away. “Please, just one last more, I promise I am perfectly fine,” you tried to argue, but nothing you could say would change her mind, and you understood it when the only answer she gave you was a negative nod of the head. “You are not fair!” You grumbled. 

“Life never is,” she replied, a smirk dancing on her lips — One that was frustrating but terribly endearing at the same time. One that was atrociously close to Wanda’s, the two women having more in common than they might admit. “Come on,” she eventually added, grabbing your arm as she was talking.

“Where?” You immediately asked, refusing to follow the woman, almost fighting her grip. “I don’t wanna leave,” you whined, and this time her eyes went up to the sky — You may be adorable, but you were also being damn annoying when drunk.

“We are not leaving, I promise,” she sighed, “I have something I wanna show you,... a secret,” she added, lowering her voice. The woman knew exactly what words to use to convince you to follow. 

Throughout the walk, one of her hands rested on your lower back, probably because she didn’t want you to get lost — Or to run away. A thought that was really tempting right now. And it was a good thing that she was there to catch you when you got your feet caught. not because of the drinks, but because you were too focused on her than where you were walking. 

You could not help but stare, but observe every detail of her face. Your eyes traveled up her jawline, lingering on her lips for a moment too long before tracing the bridge of her nose to these eyes, topped by slightly frowning eyebrows, an expression she often wore when she was focused on something. 

“I wanna kiss you,” you blurted out at some point, the words coming out of your mouth before you could even realize it. By the time you do, it is already too late to take them back, and you can’t help but blush under the redhead’s gaze. Fierce, and full of something you couldn’t name — Hunger, desire. Things no one has ever felt towards you in the past.

In reality, the look of surprise on Natasha’s face was — at least partly — feigned. The women already knew about your attraction to her, you weren’t exactly as discreet as you had imagined. Yet, she hadn’t expected you to be so direct about it when you would eventually reveal your feelings for her, you who were usually so reserved, and shy. But the alcohol probably helped loosen your tongue. 

“Do you?” She asked, but she already knows the answer, and before you can even nod or mutter some excuses, you are pushed against the corridor walls. 

The music from the party was still playing loudly but you could barely hear it, the sound covered by the one of your heart pounding in your ears. You had expected the woman to react in a lot of different ways, but never this one. In the thousands of scenarios that had been created by your mind, never one had involved anything other than rejection — Instant, and disgusted. 

The possibility that she might feel the same way you do seemed unreal. You were too used to being invisible, not enough to being seen, and desired. It was something new and foreign, and it made you feel like you were about to die on the spot — But at the same time it was the best thing you had ever felt.

“Then I must give you what you want, printsessa,” she whispered, and even before she leaned in so her lips could meet yours, she was so closed that you could feel her breath brushing against your face.

God, she has waited so long for this moment, unable to take the first step because she was afraid she would mess everything up, afraid that the relationship she has built with you over the past weeks would crumble — Because kissing you means that the bait is over, and she is not sure she wants it to be. Because it has never truly been about this stupid game.

| MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. — next part.

| Tag list —

[thepeaklegendoffirstgen]

please write something about gitae (not angst)

NOTE : Lol, I was about to write angst until I read the whole thing… 😂 Honestly, this is my first Gitae x Reader, and I have no idea what I just did 😭😭 But thank you for letting me off the hook and giving me this opportunity! I’ll definitely write more about him. He’s actually one of my favourites, to be honest 🤡🎀

Also, is it Kitae or Gitae, bruh?

SLIGHT NSFW

It’s been two days.

James Lee told you it wasn’t supposed to take this long and that you didn’t need to worry.

“Don’t need to worry,” my ass.

He was a snake. You knew that too well.

Gitae always warned you to be cautious around him, reminding you they were only working together out of mutual benefit.

So, instead of waiting around, you focused on other things: sending invitations to the kings of other regions, drafting contingency plans in case things went sideways, anything to keep your mind off the growing dread.

That is, until a loud knock thundered against your door.

You had given clear orders: no one was to be let in. And who could it be at this hour?

Before you could reach the door, it was already slammed open.

“Hiding from me?”

There he stood, your man.....in all his bloody glory.

He’d killed someone again. What a pain.

And of course, you’d have to clean up after him.

Still, you ran toward him, leaping into his arms, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.

“What’s the saying? Save the best for the best,” you murmured, brushing your fingers over his face to check for any signs of injury.

Of course, there were none.

Tijuana had hardened him. A few punches here, a few scratches there, nothing could faze him now.

But just to tease him, just to push his buttons, you started fussing over him anyway, pretending like he was wounded.

“Tch. What are you checking for?” he muttered.

“Obvious signs that someone tried to do a number on you.”

His hand moved from your waist to your spine, slowly, deliberately. He knew what he was doing.

He also knew how you liked it.

And he knew your bad habit of testing his patience.

“Do you want someone to do a number on me, cariño?”

His voice dropped, gaze darkening, and his grip on your waist tightened.

You tried to act casual, tousling his hair in a rough, teasing way.

That wild smile you loved spread across his face.

“Another way of keeping the population in check,” you replied, fingers now gently threading through his hair. “Those are just ants crawling your way anyway.”

He lowered you to the ground, now towering over you.

“Be prepared then,” he warned. “We’ve got more ants coming.”

And as he took a step forward, your back hit the wall.

“As long as you don’t cause a mess,” you muttered, nails dragging lightly across his chest, “James can only keep things in control for so long.”

With a swift motion, he picked you up again.

“Two days gone and you're worried about James Lee?”

His tone was sharp, daring you, say yes, say the wrong thing, say anything he wouldn’t like.....his grip on your hips tightening, sure to leave bruises.

You grabbed his collar and smirked.

“Ever the suspicious one, huh? I’m not interested in snakes that shed their skin every season.”

Your grip loosened, pulling him closer, your breath mingling with his.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking where you’ve been these past days?”

“Actually don’t answer,” you say, low and soft. “I’d rather show you just how bored I was, surrounded by low-level peasants and those good-for-nothing kings.”

That was all he needed to hear.

His lips crashed into yours with the force of a storm, like a hunter devouring his prey.

Clothes were discarded, or rather, shredded, as heat and hunger overtook the both of you.

There was no need for words.

Gitae Kim knew all too well what it meant when you kept peppering kisses across his skin, nibbling wherever you could, screaming his name.

And he, he was always ready to give you everything.

“Leaving already?” you asked, wrapping the sheets around yourself as he got dressed.

But… why hadn’t he zipped his pants?

Why hadn’t he wiped off the lipstick marks?

“Yes, it’s time,” he said casually. “They’re already here, I can feel it.”

“For someone who swears by obedience, you’re oddly obedient yourself,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

He glanced at you, and you knew there was so much more to say. So much more to ask.

But he just hummed, self-satisfied.

“The time’s not right for another round,” he added, amused.

“Wasn’t asking for one,” you laughed, throwing a pillow at him.

He caught it effortlessly, set it aside, and walked over to you.

“When all this is over, I’ll be back before you know it.”

He kissed the crown of your head.

From a king to his queen.

You let him go.

But seriously, why the hell didn’t you remind him to zip up his pants?

And where did your chips packet go?

Ugh, Bastard.

Your lovely bastard.

[pomegranate-fawn]

Weekly Update: Tiredddddd

I spent so much of this week not feeling good, I’m just in a funk still. But I still managed to do a lot of things in my personal life and I think that has to count for something so let’s get into it!

Firstly, I’ve had to change my plans heavily for the future which I think has helped to contribute to this feeling of depression. I missed the application deadline for my Master’s program which is completely my fault and no one else’s, I applied for summer semester but I worry they won’t let me in cause on my unofficial transcripts (which are the only ones I have access to until the 12th of June) I am literally a single A behind a 3.0 gpa. With my last semester’s grade I’m at a 3.2 gpa but of course it doesn’t show that. I can apply in August for my spring semester but I have to obviously wait till then. There are no entry level jobs at any library outside of one all the way at the top of Northern California and I can’t go for that for many reasons. I don’t want to uproot my entire life for a job I may not even get…plus I truly believe Southern California is the only place I belong, I don’t think I could find a part of the world I feel as accepted in as SoCal, which makes me sad cause more and more influencers keep moving here and forcing locals out and taking up once local spaces and turning them into tourist destinations. But I obviously need a job in the meantime, so what do I do? Well, I have decided to go into teaching until I have my masters. I’m studying for my cbest test and I’ll be taking it in the middle of the month. The school districts by me are very desperate for teachers and substitute teachers. I want to get in as a teacher for elementary school children, specifically kindergarten since I used to volunteer with kindergartners every day except weekends for years since I was part of a program to lessen stress for teachers at my elementary school. So I have a lot of experience, plus I do want to help children with reading since I think it’s important for children to learn to read. This won’t be permanent, but it’s my best option until a library job opens back up.

I also want to write a book series, I’m working on the outline and finishing up a few plot points + characters then I should be able to start writing. I know I’ll have to really struggle to get it published but who knows, maybe I can show them my “popular” tumblr fanfics and that will help with publishing lol. You never know! I’ll be sharing a rough draft of the first three chapters in the future for feedback on here as well!

Now let’s move onto more light hearted stuff. So, the day I’m writing this is my mother’s birthday but we celebrated it earlier this week. Still, I plan to make her dinner tonight and clean the house a bit so she can enjoy her birthday today. Earlier this week, we went to Bob’s Big Boy, possibly one of her favorite restaurants. When I think of an American diner, I think of this place or Denny’s…I know, not really small town cozy places but in a state like California, these places are sometimes all you can afford and they become community hubs in their own right. My god mother also came with us to the celebration and we all had a really good time, she ordered this brownie sundae that we all shared, it’s so rich and delicious and warm I miss it lol

During a week where I feel lost, my cats and my partner are my anchor. I feel bad that I barely talked to any of my friends this week but that just means I have to do better this week. But I’m so grateful for both my lovely girl and my cats. My cat Willow was particularly helpful this week, I kept smothering her and cuddling her and crying into her fur (which in turn would make my throat itchy for the rest of the day since I’m mildly allergic to cats…but that won’t stop me from owning them I love cats so so so much) and all she did in response was either huff or let out the cutest little meows and whines in an attempt to get away. But Willow is so sweet she never claws nor bites, she rarely even squirms, she just wants her frustration to be heard lol. My gf took a photo of her this week and she fucking looks like a little bug I actually felt ill looking at this photo like how can one little cat be so cute and bug like?!

Like I said, I think having to change my plans helped to cause these odd feelings in my heart these past two weeks. I’ve wanted a lot of comfort which made me even more emotional and longing for my gf, while we live super close to each other we usually only have the time to see each other once a week but we’re hoping we can see each other more with the summer. I think we will be able to but we still have to wait and see! But regardless, every second I spend with her makes me remember why I’m still here. Maybe that’s a bit corny or sad, but I don’t really care. It’s how I feel. I’m glad I held on this long because I got to meet my darling girl, my only regret in this life is that we didn’t meet sooner. I wish we had, but I have her now, and that’s what matters. Occasionally we will get boba when we hang out, I’m the type of person that tries a singular flavor at a boba shop and decides that’s the only flavor I’ll ever order. I really worry about wasting food so it’s like, what if I order something new and then I don’t like it?! But my darling has come up with a solution, we both order flavors that sound good to the both of us and that way we can trade drinks if we don’t like the flavors we ordered! Yesterday I ordered a blueberry milk tea and she ordered an Ube yam blended smoothie. Oh my god…I really liked my tea but her drink was literally incredible. We both agreed we plan to order the ube drink again next time we go lol.

While I am currently at a weird point in my life since I’m technically “employed” but not at the same time, I have to watch my money. However…long before I knew I’d be in this situation, I preordered some of the nitro chiral 20th anniversary merch…well it came yesterday! I do not regret this, especially since I got it right before the tariffs went into effect so they weren’t horribly priced. Before this purchase we already had Towa, Rei, and Fujieda (both his lawyer look and his casual one) in acrylic stand form. But now we have Taku, Ikuina, and Eiji. I ordered Ikuina and Eiji for my gf but Taku…grandpa is allllll mine. I need to start taking aesthetic photos with these acrylic stands for joyous purposes but I guess I feel a tiny bit embarrassed taking them out in public but also like, I shouldn’t hold that shame, it’s literally not hurting anyone to be a little bit silly.

We started Sweet Pool yesterday and we plan to play more tonight! I played a bit of it in my youth (by played I mean the evil woman who showed me Wolf’s Rain would stream it to me) and I barely remember any of it from back then but the bit me and my gf played yesterday was really fun! I really love the vibes and I love my autistic boy Tetsuo. Oh yeah, another thing that makes Sweet Pool exciting for me is the religious aspect. So I don’t talk about religion on here for many reasons but for a long time I was Christian and I went to only Christian schools until the fourth grade. It was really traumatizing and I think that a lot of churches are genuinely horrible…but I still find the Bible and organized religion interesting. I like talking about religion but most of my friends don’t want to hear about that which is fair, plus I’m not going to talk religion with a practicing Christian since every time I have they try to convert me back to the religion like I left for a reason buddy! But my gf wasn’t raised religious at all, she’s never been to church service once, so she’ll sometimes ask me questions about Christianity and I get to infodump and it’s great!!!

I paint my nails every week! I really love the look of painted nails and it gives me a moment of alone time where I can only focus on myself and nothing nor no one else. It’s really nice…but I also enjoy painting nails with others! I mainly paint my nails and my gfs but I have painted my friends in the past! This week the nail polishes my girlfriend ordered for our anniversary came in! So we decided to paint our nails the same shade! The shade is Jewel Beetle by Mooncat, which is my favorite brand of nail polish. It’s rare she wants her nails painted so it made me super excited and both of our nails came out so cute!!! I keep my nails super short in comparison to her cause I hate the sensation of my nails pressing against the keyboard when I’m typing, it’s very distracting so I keep them short to make typing as comfortable as possible. She keeps her nails longer just cause she likes them like that. The color shift on this polish is actually insane I am obsessed with it…

Last week I highlighted a Sheena Ringo song and I regret that I posted it last week…because I didn’t give you guys the music video! This was the first music video I saw by Sheena Ringo, I was fourteen when I saw it. I still view her as a gay icon cause of it though her sexuality isn’t labeled. But as a young lesbian seeing something like this on my IPhone 5c was incredible, so I wanted you guys to see the music video! Honestly I feel like it makes the song even better.

Earlier this week my friend Joey sent a video to the group chat we’re in and captioned it “how Lynn feels”. Now…most of my old friends would bully me, I feel lame using that word but they wouldn’t compliment me unless it was backhanded. One of them once said I was Cellophane by FKA twigs cause I’d never be enough for anyone I dated…like wow! That’s a crazy thing to say to someone who you call a friend! So the cynical side of me assumed the video would be teasing or cringe, but that’s not what it was at all. It was a video with the global village coffee house aesthetic with Norah Jones song “Don’t know why” playing in the background…it was so sweet I genuinely teared up. I guess that the people I’m friends with now actually like me as a person sometimes…idk I have bad imposter syndrome and I worry that I’m not someone people think about…so even just a little gesture like that reaffirms that not only am I someone people consider a friend but someone they think of fondly…I have been listening to the song a lot, it’s super calm and sweet, I really like it.

I haven’t watched The Last of Us season 2 due to the boycott of it, I thought the first season was fine but after it was put on the boycott list I decided I wouldn’t watch season 2. I’d occasionally get videos talking about the new season in my YouTube feed but I ignored all of them…until this one. I mean the title seemed interesting and I actually think the video is really good! The commodification of art even when it originally came from a real place of creativity is sad to see but something that needs to be discussed. I mean…look at the live action Lilo and Stitch…yikes!

[luci4theminorannoyance]

🧟Can I ask for a part 2 of the reader turned into a zombie and their partner protects the reader from getting shot? 🧟‍♀️

Bad ass goddess valeria, Hot Alejandro, Sweetheart Rudy, Cutie Gaz, and cute octopus Konig

I'm sorry if there are too many characters. It's just that I love your writing. I am seriously addicted to it. You're the best. 🫂

a/n: this- this draft has been sitting in my inbox for a whole 7 months I think… I’m so sorry. I totally forgot about me ever making that post because it’s old! Also to anons asking for part 2s, please try to link that writing of mine so I can refresh my memory without hunting through my posts :((

Gaz:

-gaz had been haunted with nightmares since the day you got infected, barely eating, barely sleeping, barely thinking. Wanting to go home to your comfort but knowing there was no home and no ‘you’ to get comfort from

-you were kept in base until the task force found a cure, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to see you and didn’t want to see how he had failed you

-one night, in one of the colder months, he base was raided, all the doors open and enemies holding everyone hostage, the enemies discussing what to do with the hostages and the locked up zombies, including you, choosing to just end everyone

-And before gaz could think he had gotten out of his ropes and was standing in front of you shakily, not even sure you knew who he was or that you weren’t going to bite him

-he was shocked when he felt your cold icy hands hold him close from behind, watching as luckily back up showed up before he was shot by the enemies to begin with

-guilt starts to follow him after the event, because he never visited… you must have thought he was dead, or had left you! He visits you daily now until he finds the cure, which he’s determined to do

konig:

-konig was a colonel, high ranking and good at his job, so when the first waves of infection hit he was shoved into a bunker with you and he thought you and him were gonna be fine in the cozy setting his job had landed him

-oh how he was wrong.. one door breach, one minute of things going on that he couldnt control, and then you were bit. His whole future turning to dust in his eyes

-how could he ever go on without you? You were the one thing he was planning on staying for in the now messed up world

-since the bunker has been heavily destroyed by the ravage, he packed what he could and took you everywhere. He had some common idea that you knew who he was, that he proved with the fact you didn’t attempt to bite him nor hurt him, but it still made him feel so helpless to see you slowly rot ever so slightly

-he had stumbled across a camp with you one day, feeling something off about the place a second before he heard the all too familiar click of a sniper rifle being taken off of safety, and he quickly got in front of you, knowing you wouldn’t dare hurt him

-had some very choice words with the survivor after the fact, but at least he got some info on the newest solution attempts for the virus, which was a shot that would halt the rot and spread of contagious diseases in those turned to the undead. Which is better than nothing, right? He has hope that one day you’ll be safe in his arms, making his heart melt with your soft words again

Rudy:

-the cartel had grown and grown in the ruins of the virus like a weed, and soon started testing cures- who knew that the cartel would be a useful resource for once.

-that however did not stop from Alejandro and the vaqueros working in their little time trying to push Valeria out of the small still semi functional town

-most in las Almas hadn’t been affected due to the hills and lack of large population, but it didn’t stop some from getting infected… you being one of them

-Rudy was heart shattered when Alejandro had forced him to leave you in one of their safe houses, but he knew it was for the best

-after a particularly bad incident, the cartel had found most of their safe houses and bases and Alejandro knew they needed to move fast and grab only what the team needed to continue operating. What they didn’t need? A zombie. No matter how close to Rudy you may be

-Rudy, as soon as he learned of Alejandro’s plan, got down on his knees and begged and sobbed for Alejandro to change his mind, finally getting Alejandro’s soft heart to give up on trying enough that Rudy took you along with them to the newest base, softly leaning into you the whole time, enjoying your touch even if it was cold and uncomfortable

I’m so sleepy but uh- I’m sorry for not doing Alejandro and Valeria! I might try to do an actual follow up on this 😭

[oros-ash3s]

I noticed a few of your WIPs are in the outlining stage, what does the outlining process look like for you? Do you consider yourself a heavy planner or more go with the flow?

I’m gonna be real with you: I’m absolutely dogshit at planning things out. Honestly “outlining” really just means that scenes are prophetically thrown into my head and over the course of either days or years I suddenly have a timeline and first draft going. So it’s pretty much go with the flow.

Most of the time I focus on characters -> plotting -> worldbuilding, and then they kind of just bounce off of each other and build up to create the story in its full. BUT!!!! I’m also literally never done plotting, I always have some sort of new idea and suddenly there’s five more characters and fifteen more arcs added in to one of my wips.

But yeah you can kinda see I’m a shitty planner through my wips lol. There’s a lot of basic worldbuilding throughout most of them (though I DO have a high fantasy WIP in the works with @ohagiwrites 🤫🤫) or I’m forced to come up with worldbuilding when it comes a point in the plot where it’s actually vital. My fav thing is always the characters. I need to have an attachment to my ocs to give a shit about that actual story.

For Magicae, my most planned one so far, the first thing @ohagiwrites and I did was sit down and just work through the general vibes of the story, kind of just visualizing the aesthetic of the world and whatnot. Then we picked what our main conflict would be, and started on some worldbuilding for the two main villains, Eden Inc. and The Congregation of the Chosen. Everything kind of just continued on from there.

[We are huge procrastinators though so our actual timeline didn’t get started until after we had already started writing the first and second arc.]

Metamorphosis is also in the outlining/planning stage, and it’s kind of taken a much different approach. (Probably because Ohagi is much more organized than me.) The very first thing I came up with was the story was the characters, namely Ryuji and Kageko. They were old ocs of mine that I reused, and so when I decided to revamp their story they were the only ones I actually kept.

The very first thing I did was sit down and decide on how many characters there would be in the main cast, and come up with names for them. I also figured out the basic premise of the story, which was that they were all curse-users that were fighting demons. I also had to figure out who I wanted the protagonist to be, since I knew Ryuji didn’t fit that part.

Metamorphosis has been significantly slow with getting going on planning, but it’s kinda all just been off from there! I figured out the main 7 characters, a few plot lines came to mind, and then the worldbuilding has been getting created as well.

So yeah my process is kind of all over the place, but hopefully this answers your question :]

[hime-bee]

(since i know you also have a mega breeding kink, here's some arknights men who i think would have breeding kinks large enough to fucking repopulate the entirety of terra,,)

silverash (wow how original) has such a massive breeding kink that it's not even funny. and he's entirely unashamed about it, huskily cooing at how lovely and adorable you'd be with your tummy all swollen, even when he's balls deep in you and pushing you well into your nth orgasm. each drag of his cock along your walls serves a purpose, acting as a way to remind you that he's the only one who'll ever be able to see you come undone, as well as the only one who can possibly knock you up. and with each load he fucks into you, soothing away your broken sobs from the overstimulation, he's getting pretty successful.

it wasn't młynar's intention to get hooked on the very risky thrill of knocking someone up, much less a woman much younger than him. but the way your cunt hungrily swallows up his dick aaallll the way down to the base and the loud moans you make when the tip keeps bullying its way against your cervix leaves him little room to deny the fact that he gets off on the risk. and, well, the fact that you keep trapping him in leglocks and forcing him to spill everything inside is also a factor. (also did you know that horse pp actually flares during mating to ensure the semen stays inside and the chances of the mare popping out a baby are increased?? hope that fact stays with you the next time you think of the honse uncle >:3c)

despite his well-disciplined and down-to-earth personality, even chong yue isn't immune to the thought of encasing your much smaller body underneath his and filling your pussy with his seed until it takes. plus, given his draconic roots, being endowed with two wonderfully sized lengths gives him all sorts of advantages, especially when you're babbling nonsense as he stretches you wider than you ever thought possible. doesn't really help that ling and nian are eager to become aunties, pestering their dearest brother and you at every opportunity they can get.

lee was nowhere near lowkey when it came to his breeding kink, and he's made it nothing short of becoming your problem. gifted with a lung's hemipenes and kept tucked safely within a cozy little vent, he takes every opportunity to fill you to the brim with the promise of making you into a mother. and of course, he played the 'senior citizen' card the first few times he refused to pull out, claiming that he's getting too old to remember (lies) or asking you to "go easy on this old man~" (lies 2x) but can you really blame him? it's not every day he gets lucky with someone as cute and eye-catching as you. plus, those kiddos of his certainly wouldn't mind another addition to their little group.

that charming smile of his did absolutely nothing to prepare you for the depravity that tequila hid behind it. having practically sweet-talked his way into your bed, tequila made short work of ensuring that you'd never look at another man but him. his need to knock you up stemmed from his canine instincts and his need to monopolize you, because all those stewing emotions he's kept buried certainly aren't doing his mentality any good. not that he'd care, especially when he's sunken his teeth into your shoulder as he unceremoniously pushes his knot into you with a lewd pop! and starts filling your pussy to the brim with plenty of his release until it finally takes.

(hope you enjoyed some lil thirsts for these goobers, bc i want all of them to mating press the shit outta me mostly młynar. i would've have added more but its like 4 am as im writing and im very eepy. but hopefully this made ur brain go brrrrrr ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭)

Lati, you didn't have to call me out like that-- 😭😭 You're 100% right tho, I really do and I'm so predictable LMAO

Which is prolly why most of the guys you listed, I've either written, or have a draft planned for 😭 (RIP to my Lee and Tequila fics that haven't seen the light of day smdh). ANYWAY. Continue to cook, chef!! 😩💦💦💦 I wonder what kinda situation the Doctor would have on their hands if more than two Operators were trying to breed em 🤔 Personally, I think they should take turns trying-

(Also, God bless you for providing me and my followers with these scrumptious little meals, it's so nice reading these from you, Lati 😭💞 Especially when all I can really do is read rn-) AND I WILL BE SAVING THESE TOO LOL

[felixravinstills]

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

passage choice:

“For years, I thought about asking my father where he got the meat just to watch him crack. In the end, I decided it didn’t matter. It kept me alive, didn’t it? If I was starving with no there option, I’d do it again. I’d close my eyes and eat it. Savor the first full meal I’d had in months. It doesn’t matter what it was. It kept me alive.”

Why are you telling me this?”

His voice came out in a whisper.

Were girls always this confusing and terrifying? 

Well.

Now that he thought about it. Artemisia could be both those things.

“I’m tired of scrapes,” Persephone said, jostling him from his thoughts. 

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story? (it doesn’t say i can specify but…request for artemisia mayhaps?)

ask game

Thanks for the ask, Lily! So fun to rant about Close Your Eyes again... it's almost been half a year since I started writing it... 4 months since I finished it...

18. Passage Question (See Above Excerpt From Ch. 2, Close Your Eyes)

I remember wanting to acknowledge Festus/Persephone in Close Your Eyes, because I do love them, and I hate when a character's more "canon" love interest gets kind of sidelined or vilified to prop up the fic's ship. Obviously, as she's not really central to the story, Persephone doesn't appear very often but I wanted to make sure it was clear when I wrote her that she had her own life that she was living.

The original draft had the interaction as much shorter, but the intention was always to have it be longer. Most of the changes was me finding my characterization of Persephone.

I've talked about my version of Persephone being more confident than yours, so this is kind of that shining through. I like writing strange, unnerving women (that might be obvious idk), and this is also that shining through. I was like "what if she's not ashamed? what if she's come to terms with it as just something she did? she did it to survive, why regret it?" I think in someways it's more unnerving for someone to act weirdly normal and well-adjusted about an incident that other people would normally be horrified by than to be tortured about it.

It's also kind of a sign of her kindness and trust in Festus that she's telling him this secret (because while she's not ashamed, it could damage her reputation) and also basically telling him as they are breaking up that he should just get over himself and admit that he's in love with his two best friends. The main thing we know about her is being kind, and I felt that should shine through even if she's in a very frustrating position.

Because of the situation, I also have her asserting herself and her boundaries. He's wasting her time if he's not committed to this relationship. She's going to find something more fulfilling. She's tired of scraps. <- me realizing I put scrapes instead scraps (whoops let me go edit that real quick).

This answer was mostly just explaining choices. The process, as with most of my writing, is brute force hitting a passage with editing until it makes sense with the rest of the story.

25. Weird, Hyper-Specific Detail (Artemisia)

Hmmm. Unsure if this is weird or hyper-specific, but it does never come up in the stories (directly)!

Artemisia is so resentful towards most of the Capitol because of her childhood. You'd think that even in Close Your Eyes that she'd be a pretty likely candidate for questioning the status quo and maybe turning rebel, but she doesn't do that (in that fic). The reason that Artemisia never contemplates becoming a rebel in Close Your Eyes (before Felix's death, although even after, she doesn't really rebel) is because Brandy kills Arachne.

I don't really focus on Artemisia and Arachne being friends, but I do think someone from the Districts killing Arachne definitely stops Artemisia from truly empathizing with them. That's why it it's kind of ironic (and important to me) that in All That You Can Do, Artemisia actually sees herself in Brandy, and that is what sparks Artemisia to rebel in that fic.

Close Your Eyes! Artemisia unfortunately was not immune to the Capitol's attempts at utilizing her friend's death to further the Capitol-District divide.

[lampmanliveblogs]

I found myself writing on this instead of answering the asks in my inbox. This is just a first draft, but I dunno, I think it might be okay. I haven't read through it yet though, this is fresh stuff. What do you guys think, is this something?

xxXXxx

Untitled TOH fic-vee tells the gang

[TITLE]

Vee watched Luz and Camila disappearing into the light of the portal, of to save the Demon Realm from whatever evils Belos was bound to bring upon that world with his return. The portal closed shortly after they crossed the threshold. 

Vee could feel the scent of the spent magic lingering in the air. It was potent and powerful, but not unpleasant. The Titan’s own magic, such a primal, primordial force of nature that Vee doubted she’d be able to feed on it if she tried. It’d be like a human trying to eat and digest grass, if grass could also spontaneously explode. A bad idea.

The demon turned around to begin her walk back to civilization. A small smile played on her lips. Despite the difficulties they were bound to face in that realm, a realm Vee herself was not prepared to return to just yet, she couldn’t help but feel optimistic. If any two people could handle Belos and The collector, it’d be the Luz and Camila, the two coolest people Vee  knew.

Well… they were at the very least in the top three of the list Vee kept of cool people she knew (admittedly, a pretty short one). One person in particular was very high up on that list. A stranger she knew very well, a raven-haired goddess, a clueless fortune teller.

Vee felt her cheeks heat up, and she quickly shook her head to try and clear it. She could think about those feelings some other time. For now, she had to focus on getting mom’s car back ho-

Her eyes widened and she shoved her hands into her pocket. She had her phone and… that was it.

”Shoot!” she yelled at the sky. The moon looked down on her, it’s cold light coloring every shadow blue. ”Camila still has the car keys!”

Well. That was her good mood ruined. Grumbling curses under her breath, Vee made it back to the town square where the festivities were winding down. She threw the car a dirty look, like it was its fault that Camila had brought the keys with her like some kind of responsible adult. Now she’d have to walk all the way back home, get the spare, walk back here and drive the car home. Or maybe that could wait until tomorrow?

Whatever. She had a lot of time to think about what she’d do next.

She walked along the streets of Gravesfield. By now, most trick-or-treaters had trick.or-retreated back home with their bounty. A few jack ’o lanterns still spread some light onto the streets, alongside the streetlamps and other decorations. The buzz of the last few organizers cleaning up after the festivities at the town square disappeared fast behind buildings as Vee navigated around them.

Her nose was a good deal sharper than her ears though and if she took a few deep breaths she could still feel a few faint scents coming from there. She took some joy in doing that, trying to disentangle the smells in her mind, try to keep them alive for as long as possible.

In a somewhat ironic twist, because she was so focused on trying to discern those quickly fading smells, she missed the one in front of her. Once she did notice it, she stopped dead in her tracks.

”It’s you!” yelled a familiar voice.

It was Jacob Hopkins, the man from the Gravesfield Historical Society, standing there, only a few meters ahead of her. Before Vee had time to get out of her daze, he marched up to her.

”It really is you!” he said again. ”I’d recognize those evil eyes anywhere! You’re my demon!” He grabbed her wrist.

”I-I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said and struggled to free her hand. She saw his eyes go wide and realized her mistake. ”Let go of me!” she said, this time imitating Willow’s voice, but it was too late.

”Don’t bother trying to distort your voice, demon, I see right through your tricks,” Jacob spat. ”Where’s the poor woman you enchanted as your thrall? Did you eat her, you vile creature!?”

”No!” Vee cried. She felt hot tears threatening to flood her eyes. Her heart beat fast and heavy and her breathing was ragged. ”Let go of me!” she hissed at him, this time with a much more animalistic sound. In her mouth, sharp fangs replaced dull incisors and puny canines. On her hands, soft human nails extended into sharp claws.

”Hey!” a third voice joined the growing chaos, causing both basilisk and man to turn their heads. Despite the situation she found herself in, Vee couldn’t help but find herself feeling a little relieved. It was the rest of the Cabin 7 Crew fast approaching. 

Marco, dressed as a mummy, but with his distinctive bang still covering his eyes. It was a wonder he could see anything.

Samuel, dressed as a Frankensteiner, albeit a Frankensteiner with red hair and glasses.

And finally Masha, dressed as a witch, spearheading the trio, just as they did at summer camp as well. Always the first one to get them into trouble, and this time, the first one to arrive to help Vee out of trouble.

”What’s going on here?” they said. ”Let go of her, you pervert!”

”Wha-no!” Jacob exclaimed. He might’ve been some flavor of crazy, but even he realized how bad this must look to an outsider. ”You’ve got it around your back foot! It’s not what it looks like!”

”Really? Because what it looks like to me is that you’re trying to drag this poor girl off to do Goddess knows what!” Masha yelled back. Marco and Sam stood by their sides, ready to back them up should things get ugly (well, uglier). ”Let her go right now and we might not call the police.”

”I-it’s not like that at all!” Jacob said quickly, very keen not to get the police involved. He looked around, as if the fuzz were hiding behind the corners, ready to jump him. ”Listen, um… Sasha…? No, no, was it… Vasha? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” He pulled on Vee’s wrist, making her stumble forward.

”This is no mere girl!” he exclaimed. ”This is a demon! She has come from another world and has been living among us humans for months! And now her allies, the witches have come too! They’re not here right now, they probably went back to their own world, but who knows when they’ll be back! You must help me contain this creature so we can warn the president! I’ll even let you collab with me on mewtube, once my account is restored!”

At some point, Vee realized that the best way to get out of this situation was to let Jacob keep talking. She retracted her claws and dulled her teeth.

Masha, Samuel, an Marco shared a few glances with each other. Vee knew them well enough to follow along.

”This guy is a loon,” said Marco’s gaze.

”I know you said he was a nutcase, but I didn’t realize it was this bad,” Samuel’s look said.

”Yeah, I knew it was bad, but not this bad,” Masha said with one stare.

Samuel stepped forward.

”You’re crazy,” he said simply. The he punched Jacob in the stomach. Hard.

Jacob made a funny sound as all the air in his lungs was forcibly evicted from his lungs. He fell to the ground, holding his tummy, letting go of Vee in the process.

”Come on, let’s get away from this creep,” Masha said, taking Vee’s hand. They gently coaxed Vee into following them, not that Vee needed a whole lot of convincing. They led her away from the gasping and writhing Javob while Marco and Samuel stayed behind for a while to make sure he didn’t try to follow.

”Hey, I don’t think I got your name before?” Masha said, in an obvious attempt to try and distract Vee from what had just happened. ”We met at the GHs yesterday, remember? I offered you a tour.”

”Y-yeah, I remember,” Vee said. Her heart was still beating fast, but sh was starting to get her breathing under control. Her fighting instincts had kept her hands steady, but now that the immediate threat of violence was gone, they started shaking a little. ”I’m Vee. And,uh… as much as I would like that tour, I think I just wanna go back home right now,” she said, an attempt at levity.

Masha nodded.

”I saw your friends at the Haunted Hayride, but I didn’t see you.”

”I was back at home with mom,” Vee said, so focused on trying to calm herself down that she let her mouth go on autopilot. It took her a moment to realize the slip-up. ”Or, uh, I mean.. aw geez, I misspoke, I didn’t mean to say-”

”Hey, hey, calm down, Masha interrupted the panicking basilisk. They led Vee to a car and opened the door to the front passenger seat. They made Vee sit down. ”Just take it easy. That creep didn’t hit you, did he?”

Vee shook her head. She massaged her wrist. She could feel where he had squeezed her, although the thing was was more annoying to Vee was that she could still feel the scent of him on her hand. Seeing as she had spent the first decade and a half of her life in chains, a little pain in the wrists she could handle. But she hated the smell of him and if she ever had to feel his stink on her again, it’d be too soon.

”No, I’m fine,” she said finally.

”You sure?” Masha said, somewhat skeptical.

”Yeah, I’m sure, I promise” Vee said. ”I was just a bit shocked. I mean, this was a lot, even for him.”

”Yeah…” Mashas aid, their thoughts trailing off. ”I mean, I knew the guy was unbalanced, but not that he was this unhinged…”

Marco and Samuel came walking back to the car.

”What a wimp,” Marco said succinctly. ”I think he’s still lying there.”

”Serves him right,” Samuel spat. ”He should be lucky to get off so lightly.”

”I tied his shoestrings together for good measure,” Marco said and hopped into the backseat of the car.

”And I threw his wallet and keys onto the nearest roof,” Samuel continued, following his friend. ”So that should keep him occupied for a while.” His face got a few degrees more serious. ”Should we call the police?”

”N-no,” Vee said quickly. ”I don’t think it’s necessary.”

At the time she didn’t know it, but she was right. In trying to get his wallet and keys back, Jacob would wake and nearly scare the life out of the poor souls living in the house. He ended up getting arrested for trespassing. It remains to see if he learned his lesson from that.

”Alright, if you say so,” Masha said. ”At the very least let me drive you home. Or do you have a ride?”

”I’d like that,” Vee said. ”I, ah… missed the ride home.”

The ride home was spent mostly in silence, broken mostly by Vee giving Masha instructions on where to turn. Marco and Samuel introduced themselves, unaware that Vee already knew them very well.

Vee had some time to think during the car ride. When Luz returned from the Demon Realm and reclaimed her life, Vee had stopped hanging out with her old cabin mates. With all the new friends in the house, Vee hadn’t realized just how much she missed them. Now that longing feeling was very palpable within her. she wanted to start hanging out with them again.But she couldn’t… or… maybe she could…

”There you go,” Masha said as they pulled into the driveway.

”Wait…” Marco said slowly and scratched his head. ”Isn’t this where Luz lives.

”Yeah, I live here too,” Vee said. I’m, uh… well, you see… it’s complicated, but, ah… Camila lets me live here.”

She saw Masha looking at her, clearly remembering the comment Vee had made before about her mom. They didn’t say anything.

Vee took a deep breath, gathering up all the courage she had. ”Grow a spine,” was the human saying. Vee was snake, she had plenty of spine.

”Why don’t you guys come inside?” she said quickly, not giving herself enough time to chicken out. She was going to commit to this now. ”I… would like to thank you all properly for helping me out!”

The three of them all checked their phones.

”It’s getting pretty late and we were supposed to sleep over at my parent’s place,” Masha said, hesitating. ”But I’m sure they’d let us sleep at Mrs. Noceda’s house, right?”

”It should be fine,” Samuel said, already typing a text for his parents.

”I don’t care,” Marco said and shrugged.

”Sounds like its decided!” Vee said, a little too chipper.  ”Come on!”

She lead them inside the mostly dark house.

She gestured towards the sofa.

”Sit down, sit down, I’ll go get snacks,” she said and hurried out into the kitchen. Her friends were left in the dust, looking around the cluttered living room. It looked like whirlwind had rampage through the room, throwing pieces of costumes all around. If the room hadn’t been so dark, they might’ve noticed some of the pictures on the walls showing off some things they were not supposed to know yet.

In the kitchen, Vee breathed heavily.

”Come on, you can do this,” she mumbled to herself while she fixed the snacks. ”You escaped the Emperor’s dungeons and evaded his scouts. You can tell your best friends a secret. It’s not that hard. They’ll still like you… yeah! Us weirdos stick together, that’s the Cabin 7 way!”

”Hey, Vee?” Masha’s voice interrupted the basilisk’s pep talk and nearly made her shed her skin at record speeds.

”Y-yes!” Vee almost yelled, and spun around in place.

”Is Luz home?” Masha asked. ”Cause we haven’t talked to her in ages…”

Masha’s usually confident eyes flickered won for a few seconds. You wouldn’t think a lack of something can feel like a stab, but it did to Vee. That sealed it in her mind. she was going to do this.

”Yes… or no. No, Luz is not home right now,” Vee said. She grabbed the snacks and led Masha back out to the living room. ”She and Camila are away, it… was avery sudden thing.”

”…okay?” Masha said, confusion on their face. Again, they shared a look with Marco and Samuel, both of them equally as confused by Vee’s cryptic words.

”I’ll explain, I swear,” Vee assured them, not that it did much to help ease their worried minds. ”but it’s a long story, so you might wanna sit down. She gestured towards the sofa again. Her Cabin 7 mates sat down, only hesitating a bit. Vee dumped the snacks on the coffee table and grabbed a chair for herself.

Vee felt around inside her second stomach. She had absorbed a fair bit of magic from Belos during the fight before. Amity and Willow had left plenty of abomination slime and enchanted plants behind. there should be a bunch of residual magic energy for her to scarf down. She could afford to show off a bit.

”Have you guys noticed something… off with Luz lately?” she asked. ”In the last tow months or so… almost like she became a different person over night.”

The three friends thought amongst themselves. Not that they needed to give it a whole lot of thought, because they had already talked about it with each other, more than once. Not only had Luz more or less ghosted them and started hanging out with a bunch of strangers from out of town (one of whom might be her girlfriend), her personality had completely shifted. The nervous but curious and kindhearted Luz they knew from camp was gone. Almost as if… almost as if she became a different person overnight.

Vee could see on their expressions that this was the general lines of thinking in the group.

”What I’m about to say next might sound insane, but I can guarantee you, it is the truth. All I’m asking is that you listen to me and… maybe don’t be too angry with me… okay?”

More glances where exchanged.

”Vee… what’s going on?” Samuel asked finally. ”Is…something wrong with Luz? What happened to her? And what does it have to do with you”?

Vee took a few quick, sharp breaths. She was about to go against every instinct in her basilisk brain, instincts ingrained into her very core by countless of generations before her. Here goes.

”The Luz you met at camp wasn't the real one,” she said, forcing herself not to talk to fast. She enunciated each word, making sure there wasnät any room for misinterpretation. ”It was me. I was disguised as her and took her place. It was an accident, I didn’t mean to, but… well, I think it worked out for the better for the both of us.”

”I… don’t get it.” Marco was the first one to speak. ”What do you mean you took Luz’ place?”

”I know it’s probably a bit hard to believe, I mean, me and Luz donät look or sound a lot alike,” Vee said. A small smile played on her lips. ”But how about now?” she said, speaking with the voice of Luz.

The Cabin 7 Crew sat still as rocks while their tired brains tried to process what was going on.

Vee giggled.

”S-sorry, but you look so funny,” she said, sounding exactly like Luz from camp. She stood up from her chair and spun around in place, transforming into a splitting image of Luz from camp. No, not a splitting image. The original image, because that was Luz from camp. ”How about now? Do you believe me now?”

Masha gripped the armrest of the sofa so hard their nails threatened to rip the fabric.

”Explain, they demanded. ”Right now.”

”Sure thing, though it’s a long story, which is why I brought snacks,” Vee said, this time with her regular voice. Titan, that must be so bizarre to the poor humans. ”There is a world beyond this one. A world of magic, and witches, and demons. Demons like me. I’m a basilisk.”

Masha raised their hand.

”No, you won’t die if you look at my true form,” Vee said.

Masha lowered their hand.

”That rumor started by witches because… well, you see, we basilisks eat magic, that’s how I can transform.” Vee paused and thought for a second. Her captive audience waited with bated breaths and eyes as big as dinner plates. ”You know what, this is probably not the right order to take things. Let’s start on that fateful day when Luz, the real Luz was waiting for the bus to take her to summer camp. As she stood waiting, she spotted a strange owl which she followed into an abandoned house in the woods…”

[dosnotoevsky]

Book review: The Silent Patient

[SPOILER ALERT ⚠️]

Rating: 2/5

Before y'all start coming at me, bear with me: I know for a fact that it was a debut novel so trust me when I say, I've been very considerate in giving this review :)

1. If I didn't know Alex was a screenwriter, I'd do away with my disappointment. I understand it was a debut novel. I am a writer too and I understand. I've read the debut works of a lot of authors WHO DID NOT HAVE A BACKGROUND in the field of writing like Alex. His writing style (at least in this work) is rushed, there's a feeling of emergency - maybe it was intended to set the tone of the story - but it merely came at me like he wanted to do away with the book, just finish it somehow. I wrote my debut book when I was 17 and it's been 2-2.5 years in my self-doubt and low-esteem that I still keep going back to keep editing and drafting it. So I'm being brutally honest when i say the second draft of my debut work >>>>>>>> the final draft of the silent patient. i thought I was being a bitch but trust me guys, I am being thoroughly honest. you'll see when my book comes out (hopefully before I die). The only good thing I learnt after reading this book is a new sense of confidence and leap of faith in my own writing style, especially being an Indian writer writing about an American setting.

2. Diving deeper into the narrative, which, according to me lacked depth. This semester, I studied about Longinus, the Graeco-Roman critic, who is known for his famous critical treatise, On the Sublime or Peri Hupsous - which basically advocates the importance of the quality of sublimity in a text that makes it special, elevating the readers out of their own self and transporting their imagination to unimaginable worlds. I could go into detail but luckily, someone has already explained it in a better way here . For me, the silent patient lacks sublimity and not just a bit, but in such an amount that it can't be avoided, it keeps poking at you until you give up the benefit of the doubt and accept the truth. There is no development whatsoever regarding the narration of the environment, the characters in depth, and also the one thing the writer must've focused on, he carelessly attended it as well: Ironically, the book is pivoted around the world of psychology and all things synonymous - or at least the writer has forced so - and even then, he did little to elaborate the internal reveries of the major characters, let alone the minor ones. The conversations were rushed, there was no description of contemplation before the characters arrived at a conclusion and so many more flaws that I can keep counting and my fingers would run short.

3. The writer introduced some characters, who provided absolutely no aid to the storyline or the development of the plot - if there was any. He could've either used them in a much more refined way or just shouldn't have even introduced them in the first place. Jean-Felix's existence is beyond me. Also, why did he tell Alicia that she trusts everyone around her so easily - what was the point of that? This statement piqued my interest in Jean-Felix and right after that the writer disappointed me yet again. Kathy's character was yet again wasted. I also don't understand the poor character development of Max. THIS GUY LITERALLY ASSAULTED HIS SIS-IN-LAW AND NEVER ONCE CAME TO SEE HER AT THE GROVE AND NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN HE'S EMOTIONAL TOWARDS THE END??? LIKE??? I felt like I skipped 20 odd chapters because clearly there's a lack of something so crucial for the sudden change of Max's heart. Or the writer went lazy with his character arc and wasted yet another foil.

4. Alex is part Cypriot and I respect that. I am a sucker for Greek mythologies and trust me when I read the word "Alcestis" for the first time in the book, I immediately became pumped up to finish it. Unfortunately that's all it was. A bait. I think, and no offense, that the writer kept boasting his love for Greek mythologies, throughout the pages. I had better expectations from Diomedes' character but yet again, I think he was wasted. Even though Theo wasn't Greek, he seemed to have a lot of knowledge and interest in it so I think if the writer intended to hint at his honour and love for the mythologies, he should've made Theo Greek/part-Greek? I feel like he could've mingled references of the Greek culture in a better way and not just occasionally hitting with one every now and then when you're engrossed in the story. Idk, this one's a personal reverie though (Please don't cancel me).

5. Coming to the story. I was into 100-150 pages when I got bored. I consulted it with my friends, who had extra hyped this book to me and because of whom I got hold of it. I told them how the noob writing style is really pissing me off and till then, no special development had ignited. But they told me that the climax is really worth it and so I kept reading. I was hopeful that I'll get something. But the climax was not at all original. If you've watched the Netflix series You, you could've already guessed the ending by the fourth part of the book and if you're a sucker for Joe Goldberg's ways, like me, your guess of the ending would've been much sooner and better than the real ending. I was hoping till last that the writer must've done something with Max or Jean-Felix or even Diomedes himself - wouldn't that be cathartic? But no. There's something royally wrong with Theo, granted, but if he was the culprit all along, the writer must've shaped his character in a better, more refined way. Not everyone can be Joe Goldberg. LIKE I DONT UNDERSTAND - HE KNEW IT WAS HIM ALL ALONG WHY TF WAS HE TREATING ALICIA LIKE FOR WHAT WAS HE HELL BENT ON HER FINALLY SPEAKING UP?? SOMEBODY EXPLAIN PLS.

In conclusion, the story was a whole lot of nothing and I gave two stars because the book cost me 160 bucks + i liked the reference of Alcestis. This is my personal opinion and I don't intend to offend anyone who has a different opinion than me, okay? Good kids x.

[enchantedpalia]

Home disaster, but yay for community!

I'm not even sure where to begin, but it's best to begin at the beginning.

When I last wrote here I wrote about how autumn was setting in and there was decidedly a nip in the air. I also wrote a bit about the autumn storms. Well, a few days after my last entry, I ended up going to bed early one night because I was feeling a bit under the weather. I'd already been taking the draft Chayne had given me, and dosing myself on hot lemon and honey like Kenyatta had told me to do, but doing a bit less and resting, and sleeping early, was helping too. Anyway, that night, I was restless, because the winds were so loud, and I was huddled under my blankets just listening to the howling outside, when suddenly, I heard a creaking, in the distance. I imagined that's how a ship would sound in a storm out on the ocean, with the wood creaking and the hull groaning. As I listened, the creaking sound got louder and louder until something seemed to be coming towards me, towards the house. I got out of bed and just as I was reaching for the candle beside my bed, there was a tremendous crashing sound. I screamed in fright, and I couldn't see what was going on, but suddenly I felt the wind and rain on my face, and I looked up to see a great shadow yawing and coming towards me. I fled away from the bedroom, towards the living room, and huddled there on the sofa, shaking and crying. I feel a little silly now when I think of how shaken I was, but it was terrifying!

The next morning I could fully inspect the damage by the light of day, and neighbours and other villagers came up to bring me food, blankets, supplies, and anything they could think of. It was utterly shocking and terrifying to see a big hole in my roof right above my bed. The tree came to a stop very close to my bed, and I don't think I was in too much danger, since I heard it falling, but I was still in bed when it first crashed through. Everyone was talking about what a lucky escape I had. Ashura forced me to go to the inn right then and there, whilst everyone else assessed the damage. In the inn I went to bed right away, as I was apparently burning up with fever. I kept trying to get out of bed and tell people I wanted to go help my house set to rights again, but Ashura, Badruu, Chayne, Jon, Eshe, Hodari, and everyone else wouldn't hear of it.

It took weeks, and effort from everyone in the village, and beyond, from my neighbours and friends, and even from Hassian, who insisted on helping. I recovered, and went right back in to work, and help. Getting that roof fixed was a community effort, and if not for the amazing community in Kilima, I could have been in for a rough winter. But the roof was fixed, as good as new, and my room was restored to the way it was. The first evening at home with my brand new roof, there was another storm, and I felt a slight panic in my heart, but I just went to my study, lit the fire, curled up on the couch under my blanket, and read a book as the storm raged outside. That night I went to bed as I always did, and after some tossing and turning, I slept.

When you don't know where you're from, who you are, whose you are, or what you are even doing in the world, having the only thing that is wholly yours taken away from you is a terrifying thing. My house is my place of safety, and when that tree came crashing down and destroying my home, it took that away. It was a forcible reminder that life can happen at any time, and that even my safest refuge could feel less safe. But thanks to the love, friendship, and support of this community that has become as much home to me as my house is, my feelings of safety and security are as restored as the roof of my house. My hair may be scruffier and longer, but as you can see from my house behind me, it is in great shape.

I'll be writing more, now that my life is back in order. I have so much to catch up with, but all in good time.

[calysteg1a]

mmmm so. hi, info.

to those who knew chiyoso, hi i'm back <3 for the ones who don't, hello to you too. if you were actually looking for a list of what i write or don't, click this link from my old blog and scroll down to production. happy reading :3

right then.

the reason for my return is simple. i have too many stories and fantasies lined up in my head and writing's always been my outlet. that, and the hardwork i did on chiyoso (edits, layouts, etc) haunts me to this day chanting “how could you leave us and lose all that progress!!!!” i often feel like shit giving up on it cause genuinely, but ik thats not who i am.

the following content below will serve as a bit of lore and context for anyone and everyone that is curious.

the main mistake i did being chiyoso before, was striving to please the masses without any regard of my own desires and neglecting my physical wellness and mental health.

the many likes and engagements i kept receiving, words of encouragements and the fact that people wanted more from me - from my mind that won't freakin' shut up. that was probably my first exposure to a dopamine rush from my own actual effort, which set my people pleasing tendencies ablaze. the attention became exhilarating.

...until i made this story. something that sparked the growth of that account. the goal of that story was to bring anticipation and an open ending to have the readers imaginem also because ending a story was really damn difficult for me. (it still is) so, i opted for that choice.

and it. did. well. i was satisfied and i was so very proud of it.

then several people - of good will ofc, asked for more, wanting a sequel of it and uhh... i caved in. lil ol' 18 - 19 yr old me was struggling very much annnd she could not handle the silence when the clicks and reblogs had died down. not to mention, the like to reblog ratio. the fact that your posts get shadowbanned for no fucking reason?

more bots, less appreciation of fiction, the ai-fication of your work cause people can't wait for the next chapter?

ugh and i witnessed it not only in my pieces, but others too. so much writers were leaving, and it just went downhill for the writing community around that timespan, especially with the introduction of chatgpt.

but going back to the mara's will. i made a sequel yes, but i was just honestly forcing myself. it took so long to work on it but in the end, i ended up archiving it despite the several month effort i put in that fic. i think it had 6k words or maybe even longer to the point where my phone would lag.

working on that sequel made me depressed as hell and spiraled me into a burnout, which also led me to putting a hiatus on so much drafts and ended up never touching them again. it was a just a falling domino of negativity and bam. writing became such a toxic thing for me temporarily.

thus... the pieces i did after the mara's will was made with sudden bursts of inspiration, lust or sadness and i'd stay up overnight trying to finish them because i'm aware that the sudden rush wouldn't be consistent like how i want it to be.

that gojo wedding smut i did? that was a product of both arousal and sadness. the fic for wanderer's birthday? COMPLETE SHEER DEVOTION AND YEARNING BABY.

my herrscher of death series? my growing god complex lmao.

cynosure's ascendance? born from a complete disregard of my sexual comfort from a past lover i once had. (its the reason why the mc is unhinged asf and im still debating if i should continue it or not.)

all of these were impulses and from a big rush of heavy emotion, which... disappeared after i worked on my stories for a few days n go into a burnout again.

tldr and moral of the story: i'm just gonna write whatever i want and fuck all to the like count or lack of interactions.

[nsfwmiamiart]

(Second Draft Version) Incoming Text for Ariana Grande (@arianagrande):

Dear Ariana,

First, I want to start by saying that I have noticed that you tried to get my attention during the months of September, October, November, and December 2024 by appearing constantly on my Tumblr feed. However, I made a conscious choice to ignore you and give you the silent treatment because I saw something in your appearance that I couldn’t accept. I see things that regular human beings don’t see, and it would take me hours to explain what I saw, but I’ll try to explain it in very simple terms.

I just hope you won’t cry or be sad because that’s not my intention. Let me begin my explanation.

Why did I ignore you since September 2024? Why didn’t I even write you a letter, as I often do for others on my blogs?

Here’s the answer: Because I saw the Anti-Christ’s hostage. Meaning, Ariana, you are their hostage. You’re being held captive by their evil team, and your appearance has changed. You look like someone haunted by the Anti-Christ’s demons on a daily basis—you look like a Prisoner of War (POW). That’s what I see when I look at your new appearance. I don’t see the innocent Ariana anymore; all I see is a hostage of the Anti-Christ.

Now, let me continue. Your new movie, Wicked, has the Anti-Christ’s fingerprints all over it. And don’t even get me started on the actress Cynthia Erivo—she looks worse than you. She seems like someone who sold her soul to the Anti-Christ.

Back in 2018 or 2019, Cynthia was stunning—a natural beauty. I even had a crush on her. But now, in 2024, she looks like the wife of Dracula.

When I saw her recent pictures, I was like: “What the **** did she do? Who is this person? This can’t be my Cynthia Erivo. Please tell me this is not happening. What the **** was she thinking?”

Cynthia was in a 2018 movie with Chris Hemsworth, Bad Times at the El Royale, and I was amazed by her voice and beauty. Now, I can’t even look at her without being spooked.

But wait, there’s more.

I’ve discerned that you, Ariana, are a hostage of the Anti-Christ, and you accepted the role in Wicked because if you had said no, they would have ruined your career. That’s the only plausible explanation for your involvement in this film, and the fact that you would agree to be photographed with Cynthia Erivo—who now looks like Dracula’s wife—is a massive red flag.

The Anti-Christ’s deal likely went something like this: “So, Cynthia and Ariana, you wish to be famous and wealthy, right?” And y’all replied: “Yes, we do! We want to be the most powerful women in Hollywood.” The Anti-Christ responded: **“Well, say no more! Assume the position, bitches. Also, suck on my ball sack.” 😂😂😂

This is what I hear and see whenever I look at your pictures from the Wicked press tours.

Don’t get me wrong, I respected Cynthia back in 2018. But the new Cynthia of 2024 is disturbing. She has willingly embraced corruption. No one forced her into this—she made the choice.

Cynthia could have worked a regular job and kept her beautiful appearance, but she decided to submit to corruption. Now she looks like Dracula’s wife. You can tell her I said that. She still has the chance to repent, disavow this corruption, and leave Hollywood altogether to save her soul. If she doesn’t, she’ll remain a hostage until the day she dies.

Ariana, your appearance in the Wicked press tour reveals how sad your life has become. It’s written all over your face that you’re a hostage of the Anti-Christ.

I pity you, my dear Ariana. I will pray for your freedom.

When I look at Selena Gomez, I don’t see the same sadness. She’s glowing, free, and pure. You, on the other hand, are surrounded by pagan rituals of the Anti-Christ, and it shows in your appearance. You’ve also become very skinny lately.

I used to have a crush on you, Ariana. Your voice is incredibly sexy. But now, I avoid your pictures because all I see is a zombie.

If you asked me to have sex right now, I’d say no because I’m not turned on by the pagan vibes you’ve got going on with Cynthia. Back in 2016–2018, I would’ve said yes to a threesome with both of you. But now, you both look like Dracula’s wives, and I find you unattractive.

I’ll look at old pictures from 2016–2018 to remember the days when you both were hot and innocent.

The end of this conversation.

I wish you well. I hope you free yourself from the Anti-Christ’s prison.

Also, I’m an AREA 51 gang member, so I see things that others don’t. One day, you’ll knock on my door to have sex. Just make sure to get rid of the Anti-Christ’s spooky vibes first, and we might get along.

Love you, Ariana! Big hugs.

Angelo.

P.S.

Synopsis of the Letter:

The letter is a fictional, confrontational message addressed to Ariana Grande, where the author explains their decision to ignore her since September 2024. The author believes that Ariana, along with Cynthia Erivo, has become a "hostage of the Anti-Christ," with their appearances reflecting spiritual corruption and involvement in dark, pagan rituals.

The author critiques their participation in the movie Wicked, describing it as an Anti-Christ-driven production, and expresses dismay over the physical and emotional changes they perceive in both women. The letter contrasts Ariana's and Cynthia's current appearances with their past beauty and innocence (notably from 2016–2018) and laments their alleged submission to corruption for fame and wealth.

The author also warns them about the spiritual consequences of their choices, urging repentance and an escape from Hollywood's influence to save their souls. They juxtapose Ariana’s situation with Selena Gomez, whom they view as a free and glowing individual.

The letter ends with a mix of pity, provocative humor, and a personal declaration of being part of the "AREA 51 gang," claiming to see and understand hidden truths. Despite the critique, the author expresses conditional affection and hopes for Ariana’s freedom from her perceived spiritual imprisonment.

I know this might piss you off like Russell Brand in that scene with Jonah Hill, but I don’t care—it was worth it.

Watch this video: Get Him to the Greek (7/11) Movie CLIP - Hateful Respect (2010) HD

[theameba1436]

Wesley's Back Story.

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Alright, Not sure if I shared this before or not. But I wish to share it on my blog so I can find it because I couldn't find it there lol. But here is Wesley's back story in a rough draft and things might change as I write his story because ya know thats how writing goes haha Also timeline might be a little off in this rough wip but I tried with it. I just needed it down and out of my head.

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CWS: Abuse, locked up, torture, blood, snake venom, religious themes, cult like behavior, brainwashing, forced drugging, anger problems, and many more, please read with caution.

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The physical abuse and mental abuse from his mother, father and sister started to get to him at a young age. It started with him being a disappointment with him having a quirk when he turned around 5 years of age, they mostly left him a lone and focused on their other two children. Keeping him in the house and everything from food, clothing and even his learning was left to his sister and father. Witch mostly consist of him learning how suppress his quirk with meds they got from what looked like a cop from what he could remember. When the meds make his mutant type quirk less prominent and give him a more human look. The medicine and his families teachings stopped working when he was 12 years of age. Due to this they sent him to camps from the ages 12 to 14 to teach him how to behave in front of others, like he was some sort of animal to be viewed, this is where Wesley starts to feel numb to the world around him, Since they have him on so many meds and keep him to small groups of other kids like him to learn how to act like the perfect child.

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This worked for 3 years. Then once the brainwashing didn't work yet again, he was kept from the outside world, only letting him go to the house and keeping him in the meeting groups. This is when the physical abuse started up. Whenever he did something that displeased his parents, his parents would beat him into submission. Wesley wanted to fight back, just didn't know what to do about it, so he jut waited his time out, he got so good at faking it, when he turned 17 it was like second nature to him and he hated himself for the creature he has become. In this year his act stopped when he hit a growth spurt, becoming taller and gaining reactance to pain and his fang started producing venom. When his sister hit him one time once when she was picking on him, his temper was running thin and he ended up hitting back, and biting her thinking of hoping that his venom would at least kill her, no she just ended up in the hospital with a concussion after they got his record cleared up, he was stuffed back inside his small room until a few days before his 19th birthday. They started to train him again, teaching him more of the religious filth while they pumped his teeth for venom every day. Selling it for unknown reason's. Something about him needed to pay them money for having to take care of him and if he didn't they might as well kill him since he was useless other wise. When his birthday came up that year, that night he left his abusive home when his family rested at night and with a good bit of money from his families savings.

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That night started his day on the run, he ran for over a year, going from place to place always worried his family would find him and he just keep going until he was halfway across the country to a small city. He had enough money left to get a small apartment. he relaxed the first time that night and was sort of happy despite him going hungry for a few days while he looked for a job the would hire him, it took a good bit to find each job and yet he jut ended up having to quit them or getting fired for disturbing costumers with his appearance and his actions towards them. Due to this, three years passed and he had to start paying his apartment bills with his venom to his land lord just to keep staying in his apartment. His next job he had to wear a mask over his face and pin his ears under a hat and worked harder then anyone that worked with him. Just to have people walk over him, because he didn't speak to people and for the way he looked. He worked and lived like this for 7 years so fair. but - atleast he wasn't back with his family. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (Hope this gives people a more clear view on who Wesley is as a person. I know his back story is a bit odd and kind of dark and it only will get worse as his story goes along. He is to help with my trauma after all.)

[skamversefan]

there will never be a final draft.

writing this helped a lot, I hope reading it can help some people. or they start writing their own ones.

A Tribute to Liam Payne.

Dear Liam,

the first one to tell me about you passing away was my mother. It was around 6.30 in the morning. I had got up just half an hour earlier to do uni. At first I wouldn't believe her. Because why would you be dead? You're only 31 years old. I thought it was probably just the sun or another gossip magazine spreading rumors. She, after all, also believed those articles that said Harry and Olivia were dating. So I ask her what the source was and she only told me that she had send me an article. I still wouldn't believe her because she hasn't told me the source and i wouldn't look what article she had send to me. She only told me that it was all over the internet. I told her that 'the internet' is not really a reliable source. So I kept on going over my lectures until I had to get ready to take the bus to uni.

During that time I kept thinking about how maybe it's not a lie after all, maybe the new aren't just rumors.

When I turned my phone's airplane mode off, I finally received the article my mom had send me. I also got a bunch of other messages from my two best friends, directioners too, both of them. I ignored those at first. My only focus was that the article she had send me was a tagesschau article and i trust them most of the time.

So my first instinct was to check Instagram, see if anyone had posted anything. The first post is saw was from Charlie Ligthening. About your passing. That solified it for me. Because why would he post about it if it wasn't real. I then looked on your Instagram, to obviously see nothing. I closed Instagram, I didn't want to see any more. Then I check my friends messages, all about your passing too.

I didn't realise all of this, still haven't really if I think. Can't really grasp it all.

I didn't cry. I barly do that anyway. But I was sad and I felt some strange kind of emptiness, still do. During my entier way to uni I texted with one of my best friends. That helped a bit, I think.

I told them how honestly I'm not even too surprised, because we knew that you had a problem with drugs and alcohol and also that your mental health was as stable as a leaf in the wind. I told them I wouldn't be surprised if it was suicide, especially not after what happened lately. I do hope tho that it wasn't. I don't like the thought that your death was a conscious decision. But even if it was, I wouldn't really blame you. I think I can understand it. But if it was neither suicide nor an accident, then I'll have some new feeling to deal with, namely anger.

The whole day I would repeat 'He really is dead. He won't come back. It's not fiction.' in my head, to make it real.

It helped a bit, but not much.

I couldn't listen to any of my usual playlists. All of them would contain something that would remind me of what happened and I wanted to forget. I think I was in denial and still am.

I ended up listening to my favorite childhood artists. I had wanted to do that for months anyway, just that now i was forced to, because not listening to anything would certainly not help either.

Going through social media in the evening was a lot. Everyone had posted something about your death. It was everywhere. I tried to keep my time on there very limited. Your passing was also on the news and seeing it on TV hit different. I can't remember them ever reporting about anything related to you boys. But that evening they did. And it was definitely not in the way I always wanted them too.

At least they chose a good picture of you. Not one of those promo ones where you didn't smile, a nice one.

The following night I dreamed of you. I can't remember much, but you were there. The next morning I woke up to the boys having posted about you. I almost wish they hadn't because it made everything more real. When I read Louis' caption I did cry. I feel most connected to him and i think reading those words from him did something with me. But in fact now I feel the urge to cry every time I see something about Liam. No matter if it's am edit, a tweet or another person wishing their condolences.

I think my brain is still in denial. I'll randomly get this thought about how we'll get the news that you aren't dead after all, that is was just a mistake, a misunderstanding. But it wasn't. And you are.

I hate to break it to you, but you never where my favorite. I never felt the same connection I had with Louis, Harry and Niall with you. But I still liked you and appreciate what you did in the band. Like Louis said, you were a vital part and the band wouldn't I have been what it was without you. I cherished all those moments you had with the others one stage. When you had waterfights with Louis. The video diaries.

I also never liked your solo music as much. But what I loved was how you interacted with your fans.

When I first go into 1d your livestreams were the first real content I had gotten from my of you. It was 2020, so covid and I loved your steams. Always fun. Always lifted the mood. It's sad that I couldn't watch the one you did with Niall, but I still watched plenty of the others. One could also always see how genuinely happy you were meeting your friends. Even if your eyes looked rather empty because of everything else happening. You never deserve all the hate. Did you deserve to be called out for the shit you did? Sure. But you never deserved all the hate, no one does.

I don't know if I will every really grasp everything. That you being dead, means your gone for good. That you won't come back. That we won't get any content from you anymore. That we won't see you again anymore. That one direction is dead for good. Even if the others decide to ever come back it now definitely won't be the same. Now we probably will get the reunion we never wanted at you funeral.

You will be loved forever. You'll be missed greatly. The world will never be the same, not without you in it.

Yours,

the person who may wasn't your biggest fan but still loved you dearly and misses you a lot

[instituteled-a]

@heyerald | cont.

      "Iᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ be, eventually." Not quite dismissive; while he still very much stands with the position that Jon needs to make most experiences for himself, grow into the role carved out for him and doing quite well so far, almost better than expected in some ways (even if, naturally, it might not look that way for the Archivist himself, but that's because the grand picture is still closed to him. Not for that much longer and he'll come to understand, come to know why this all was necessary, come to see), there lays the conclusion that maybe some things need to be explained. Some smaller things to help set everything else into place. Not too much as to not misdirect where things are going, of course; there are some things that one can only prepare towards in a wrong way, actually diminishing any chances of success.

      Of course, that concept had not taken well with Jon, so, a compromise then.

      "You've still got a lot ahead, of course. Still have to grow into your own power. But you already know more than you should, you admitted as much. You, too, are tethered to the Eye and feed as it gets fed; and it doesn't just take away from you." A pause then. Careful words, just enough. "A thousand eyes, and all of them connected. Eventually you won't need just your own to see anymore."

[aldbooks]

IDK if you do random prompts but could you do one where Azriel challenges Lucien to a blood duel (Elain doesn't want it/doesn't know about it) and Lucien is like nah, why would I fight a blood duel for someone who doesn't talk to me and peaces out of the NC, etc and then Elain realizes she should've given Lucien a chance and maybe goes after him?

sorry, that was long and a giant mess but I love your one shots and I just had to ask!

Honestly I’d been wanting to write something like this. I have a very rough draft I never published in my cloud somewhere but in that one Lucien’s forced into it and basically everyone and their brother gets involved it’s very messy 😂

Truth be told, I've tried multiple times to write this prompt, and each draft inevitably began to spiral out of control. This is the first somewhat coherent one I've been able to manage

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His distracted thoughts were the only thing Lucien could blame for not noticing what he was walking into. For not sensing her, for not smelling them together as he rounded the corner in the garden and found Elain and Azriel tucked behind a vine covered wall, hidden from view of the house. There was no pretending he didn't know what was going on with them any longer. It was far too late to turn around and walk in another direction, letting them continue on with their clandestine meetings, thinking he was none the wiser. Not when he was confronted with the scene before him now.

Elain, for her part, blushed crimson and tried to push away but Azriel did not release his hold on her as he turned a cold glare on Lucien for interrupting them. Judging by the redness around her lips and the tousled state of her curls, it didn't take much to determine just how ardent they'd been just a moment before.

The pain of seeing it for himself, rather than simply knowing it was happening, was much sharper than he expected but he kept his face passive as he awaited the inevitable confrontation. Turning away now would make him seem a coward and he refused to be that. 

"My lady," he said, nodding to his mate and then the Shadowsinger. "Azriel."

The male bristled at the use of his name rather than title. A bit juvenile perhaps but was he not allowed to be at least a little bit petty, given the situation?

"Enjoying the fine weather?" he asked, briefly eyeing the sunny skies of early summer that were now leaning towards evening. Elain clung to Azriel now, her face a mask of terror. Wether she expected him to attack her or him, Lucien wasn't sure but he had to swallow down a disgusted scoff at the insinuation that he would resort to violence at all, like some uncivilized brute. That might be how her lover preferred to handle things, but Lucien preferred a more- tactful approach.

"What are you doing here, Vanserra?" Azriel growled, pushing Elain behind him as though he too expected a fight. 

Lucien fought a flinch at the use of his surname as well as the urge to roll his eyes at such dramatics. He was furious, sure; humiliated, most definitely, but he was a courtier. He fought with words, not fists. The fact that even the much lauded Spymaster did not seem to realize this was almost laughable. 

"I was just delivering my latest report to Rhysand and Feyre. They invited me to stay for dinner. I thought to take a stroll through the gardens until then. I had not realized it was occupied," he said dryly as though he were unaffected by finding them here. 

"Yes," Azriel replied cooly. "I'm sure you did expect to find the gardens empty of their usual inhabitant." His tone clearly conveyed his skepticism that Lucien had not come out here specifically seeking his mate who was well known to spend most of her time toiling away in the flower beds. 

He did not point out that the gardens were certainly big enough for them both to avoid each other should they wish. He also did not point out that while he may have been too distracted to not note their location, so too had they. Though, Lucien was a bit surprised his shadows had not alerted him to his approach. He tried not to stare at them, though his mechanical eyes tracked their agitated movements. 

Then again, perhaps they had warned him and he'd simply chosen to do nothing. Perhaps he'd even wanted to get caught. He certainly seem to be all that surprised or embarrassed at having been found out.

Just for that reason, Lucien would not give him the satisfaction of rising to the bait. He smiled blandly. "Given the late hour, I thought it safe to assume everyone indoors. I know ladies prefer to avoid too much sun." At this, he flicked a glance at the freckles scattered along the bridge of Elain's nose that had not been there when he'd last seen her. 

"If you'll excuse me," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Since this particular path seems to be crowded, I'll choose another."

He turned his back on them, knowing it would piss the Shadowsinger off to be dismissed and had barely taken two steps when a low, menacing voice said- "release her."

Against his better judgment, Lucien paused and slowly turned back around, eying the male impassively. "I beg your pardon?"

"Release her," he repeated.

Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly. "You know perfectly well, Spymaster that it is not within my power to do so. If the lady does not wish to be bound to me, then she may reject the bond herself, as I'm sure she has been told by now. And in any event, I have made no claim on her, she is free to decide what she wants for herself."

"She doesn't want you," he growled. Behind him, Elain cowered, curling into herself, her face drained of color. 

"Do you presume to speak for her?" Lucien said cooly, holding the Shadowsinger's gaze in challenge. 

Azriel bristled, his massive wings rustling at his back. "She is-"

"Perfectly capable of speaking her own mind," Lucien countered before the other male could finish what was sure to be a spectacular display of male pride. Elain said nothing but he did notice that she'd backed away from Azriel a step or two which gave him some satisfaction. 

"She doesn't want you," he said again, his eyes growing colder with every word. "You know this, everyone knows this. She has never wanted you and never will want you. And you will never be good enough for her."

It was only years of practice in taking thinly veiled insults to his face that allowed Lucien to let this one slide over him and off his back without the slightest change in expression, but he still felt the words sliding over his skin in an oily drizzle that whispered the truth of them. 

"Then she can tell me so herself." His gaze slid to Elain once more. She had backed even further away from the other male, her eyes wide, but still she said nothing.

"I challenge you." The words were snarled out through bared teeth as the Shadowsinger's body seemed to vibrate with fury. 

Lucien stilled, his gaze flicking back to Azriel as something dark began to unfurl in his chest. Some long buried beast he'd almost forgotten about. "Excuse me?"

In a flash of shining metal, Lucien found himself staring down the blade of the famed Truthteller. Elain gasped loudly but Lucien did not even flinch. "I challenge you to a Blood Duel," Azriel said in a voice like death. "If you will not let her go, I will make you."

Lucien laughed. He could not help it, though the sound held no mirth whatsoever. This only seemed to make the Shadowsinger angrier. From the corner of his eye, he could see Elain glancing between them with a panicked expression. "No," he said simply.

Azriel blinked as though he had not been expecting the answer before thrusting his blade at him again. "You will accept. And you will be defeated."

Lucien laughed again, with a touch more amusement this time. "You really are arrogant, aren't you?" he said, casually brushing the notorious blade aside. "You assume that because I prefer not to fight with weapons that I do not know how to use them. Or perhaps, it is that because I chose to use my magic rarely, you think I have little of it? There is a reason my brothers thought me a threat to them. And you seem to have forgotten who trained me. I may not be an Illyrian warrior but I promise, you would not find that battle so easily won as you think."

"Then you are a coward to not accept."

He barked another laugh. "No. I am a smart male who would rather not waste his time, or deal with the fallout that would surely follow," he said disdainfully.

"I am not a barbarian. I will not hold an unwilling female to an agreement that does not exist. The bond was never accepted, she is well able to reject it and I will not force her decision either way. If she tells me she wishes me to go, then I will. I have no desire to fight to the death for a female who has no interest in me. That would be the height of folly."

Lucien flicked his gaze to Elain once more, finding her gaze locked on Azriel.

---

Elain watched in growing horror as Azriel persisted in his attempt to draw Lucien into a fight. That horror was coined by fear and disgust when Lucien revealed that this Blood Duel Azriel insisted upon was a fight to the death. It was utterly savage and she could only stare at the male she had thought of as so tender and kind, threatening to kill her mate over something she realized he had no control over. 

She could reject it. 

The thought swirled through her mind in a tangle of thoughts. Lucien spoke as if this knowledge should be known to her, but it was not. No one had ever told her it was even an option. She supposed it was because none of those around her could fathom rejecting one's mate. Never mind that her sisters had not exactly had easy starts with their own mates. She was quiet certain that at one point, Nesta would've been just as happy to see Cassian dead. 

Azriel did not seem to give much thought of concern to the notion of rejecting a mate. Odd, considering what she knew of the esteem the fae held for such rare bonds. Neither did Lucien, for that matter, if he was able to speak about it so blithely, as though it were a given that he would simply concede should she choose not to accept him.

And that seemed even odder still. 

From what she had been told, both of her sister's mates had been unrelenting in their pursuits, particularly when her sisters had been at the height of their resistance to the bond. And yet, Lucien had never displayed an ounce of the territorial aggression she had expected. A fact she was only just realizing as she watched him bat away Azriel's attempts to draw him into a fight. In fact, he continuously tried to pull her into the conversation that Azriel did not seem to deem fit for her participation. Never mind that she was the subject.

She could feel Lucien's gaze on her, but she could not peel her horrified gaze from Azriel as she began to see the layers of civility he wore like a mask, peeling away to reveal something truly terrifying. So this was the the Shadowsinger? The cruel Spymaster that everyone seemed to cower in fear of? She stared at him as though seeing him truly for the first time. She wasn't altogether sure she liked what she saw. 

"Accept," Azriel demanded, growing visibly agitated by Lucien's refusal to be the slightest bit intimidated by him. Bold, really, for someone with half of Azriel's years of experience and training. 

Lucien sighed, his lashes fluttering as though he wanted to roll his eyes. "First of all, only an Autumn Court male can issue a challenge, which you decidedly, are not."

"You are Beron's son-" Azriel started to argue. 

"And I have not claimed my father's house in over two hundred years," fire sparked in Lucien's eyes, seeming to give even Azriel pause. "As you're well aware. Not to mention that, personally, I find the entire practice archaic and primitive. "

Azriel did not miss the insult, neither did Elain as she watched the male's wings flare wide, heedless that she was only a few feet away. Luckily she had stepped far enough away to avoid getting hit. Silently, she agreed with Lucien's assesment of the situation. 

"Secondly," he continued. "Seeing as the Night Court long ago banned such duels, how do you imagine your High Lord would feel about your insistence upon, and participation in one?"

Gone was the flippant attitude Lucien had been sporting until this moment. He spoke the words with such coolness, the sharp edge of warning evident as he seemed to happen upon the one argument that finally gave Azriel pause. She could see it in the set in his jaw and the clenching of his fists. Rhysand would not like it. And Azriel hated to disappoint his brother. 

If Lucien was right, and the Night Court had banned duels over disputed females, Rhysand would have to punish Azriel if he persisted in this course. He would not have a choice, not if he wished to retain the integrity of his position. She could only imagine what kind of punishment such a transgression would demand. 

"Free her."

Elain tried not to sigh aloud at the relief that flooded her when he seemed to finally give up his quest. Still, she was growing tired of being spoken of as though she were not standing right here, incapable of speaking for herself.... just as Lucien had said. 

"I was not aware she was trapped- at least, not by me," Lucien replied drily, looking in her direction. "I have no wish for bloodshed, and I cannot imagine that you do either." He was still looking at her as he said this. Azriel did not so much as glance sideways at her.

"You don't even want her," he snarled.

Lucien shrugged. "Then you have nothing to worry about. If you're what she wants, then bless you both. I will not stand in her way. Nor will I be drawn into any foolish battles that will only cause more harm." He turned to Elain once more. "The choice is, and always has been, yours, my lady."

With that, he bowed to her, ignoring Azriel entirely as he turned back for the main house.

Stomach roiling, and mind fairly spinning as it scrabbled to process the events of the last few minutes, Elain watched him go, feeling a tug in her chest towards him that, for once, she was not entirely sure she wished to ignore.

Beside her, Azriel's shadows swirled around him as she stormed off, apparently having forgotten she was there and what they'd been doing not five minutes ago, and took to the skies. 

Elain felt power surge up within her, and the now familiar sensation of a vision taking over her senses. She surrendered to it. Before her, was a crossroads with paths leading in several directions. She turned slowly, examining each until she felt a pull towards one in particular and knew where it would lead.

For the first time since she'd been turned fae, and felt the bond snap into place, Elain realized that the choice she thought had been taken from her that day, had been there all along. Waiting.