#as maddening as it's been it's also kind of been freeing to do so many ~*saucy*~ little sketches

[thrassisfras]

HURLING SPAGHETTI AT THE WALL AND BEGGING IT TO STICK

[tubbytarchia]

We should support artists and help them recognize their worth but I'm honestly so tired of "Your colored and shaded art is worth more than 10 bucks" and "these prices are too low" etc. Kind of maddening to me that it's treated like a choice when most artists will never have the reach to charge "fairly" for their art on a consistent basis. This isn't a jab at anyone because most people saying this are well meaning and maybe accidentally tonedeaf at worst, but the only choice some people have is either earn a little bit of money or earn no money at all. Idk surely there's other ways to be supportive or tell someone that their art is worthwhile without insisting that they raise their prices. Where and what is the advice once the prices ARE raised as suggested and yet no money is made? Would the advice be to put prices back down? To just be persistent and be better at advertising yourself?

When I started out, I tried to price "fairly", with and without advice from fellow artists (who all suggested prices that never sold) and then just decreased those prices like 5 times because no one would commission me. I wasn't upset when an anon told me "I was surprised to see the prices!", but I am upset about all the "these prices seem too low..." I got years ago in retrospect. When I voiced that I couldn't charge any higher because otherwise I wouldn't get paid, I was often dismissed. And I couldn't help but note that by all the people who got commissioned at least regularly with good pay

I'm not personally too upset about my own commissioning situation anymore, I used to be, but after so many mental breakdowns of trying to earn any money that justified the time I spent on my art and failing miserably, I accepted that it just isn't even for me. (This is why I wouldn't ever want to work with a CC either lol I would kms. As a one-off maybe). I still offer it but with a lot of leniency towards myself, which I think warrants lower pricing and I'm not upset about it. Because who would've guessed, that doing a hobby you love as a line of work with inherent new pressures isn't always going to make you happy and can ruin the hobby for you instead! Wild.

My personal commission meltdown journey under cut, because I want to and I think it'll make me feel better

My awesome commission meltdown happened about a year ago, but boy I have been trudging for awhile. Maybe 5 or 6 years ago now, I used to have a friend, my former best friend, who struck gold. They got lucky. Their art was also fantastic, but ultimately they got lucky, because good art in itself never guarantees that you can earn buck from it. They created a closed species that quickly became very popular to the point that they could draw one design on a whim and easily get 50EUR minimum out of it. That's not even commission work, to get paid well for art that YOU want to make is an absolute dream but even less reliable for most artists than commission work. I created multiple species too with like 0.20EUR prices and followed all the advice my friend gave me. I advertised myself like hell which is something I've continued to do until a year ago with a 100% failure rate. For funsies, some specimens of the species I attempted to sell (I very much detached from my usual preferred monster designs too to try and have wider appeal and gimmicks)

(If anyone wants to "adopt" any Rosebuds (1st rose-like species) or Dumlins (2nd bird-like species) for free then you're very welcome to, I can send the full sheets lol. Only one of them ever got adopted. I'm over it but hey just in case there are any adoptable fanatics in here)

After a few years I think I gave up, didn't earn a dollar with any of them and moved over to commissions because that's way easier to get money for anyway, I thought. And I've done many commissions by now but with most costing 5-20EUR. Very few outliers got any tips (usually from friends) and very few people were willing to pay more to begin with. I think I've done just 2 artwork that I was paid 50 for and those are the only comms I've done above 20EUR, and I count myself very lucky for ever even getting that opportunity. Here's some examples of commissions I've done for 20 bucks or less

(To be clear, I'm not upset about any of these. Jk lol I'm forever bothered by one of them. The 1st one but I will spare the details)

I tried so desperately to advertise myself on Twitter, on Tumblr, on DA, on Reddit, on Discord servers... in the end I got like one commission that wasn't just from a friend or acquaintance , and I'm willing to bet at least a few "friend" commissions I've done were out of pity, and I wouldn't blame them because I was a desperate little teenager. I went through a whole furry arc where I went out of my way to draw furry art because everyone knows furries got the money. I was very open to nsfw art too for very low prices to help me build my portfolio further, and I was again full-throttle advertising every which way I knew how, trying to reach out there, and gained nothing for it

Meanwhile, I just felt like doing this little animation. This wretched thing. This fucking. This little piece of work that came from a place of love and now I want to cry thinking about what this thing did to me

This is a niche Yugioh monster that I animated dancing. Somehow, it got out of the Yugioh circle and popped the fuck off majorly on twitter. Nobody knew what the hell this thing is but they liked it. This shit got reposted on Tiktok, on Reddit, probably many other sites too with zero credit back to me, naturally, with hundreds of thousands of views, possibly millions, I would check if I could still find any of them. So that sucked but guess what else happened? Like 5 people DMed me about commissioning animation work from me. TO THIS DAY despite my twitter being now deleted, people every so often reach out to me about this. And because there was DEMAND I figured, I can ask fair prices. But I'd never been able to before so I still undersold myself A LOT. Fully fledged animation is hard goddamn work. But I accepted 3 commissions, and I made progress on all of them, and then I deleted my twitter. I left all of those people in the dark (I never took any of their money though!!! I never ask for money until my work is completed unless you buy through Kofi)

I just realized how fucking miserable it all made me and how much I didn't want to do this and what a piss poor motivator money is for me to do art for, in the comfort of my home. I love money, I sure would love to have more of it and not have to rely on minimum wage jobs that I dislike but god, all of that made me so deeply upset and with all those years of failure, I suddenly struck gold like my friend had all those years back, and I had so many people wanting to give me money for my work, and it felt like a fucking joke. I was honestly just so peeved and pissed off that this is what it took, and had a meltdown over it and I was also just in the worst place of my life at the time that I've never truly recovered from. All of this just added to how much I wished to be eaten by a wild animal on a daily basis at the time

I don't feel like I got ANYTHING out of all that. The money I got absolutely didn't justify the effort and time I put into commissions and all my self advertising and portfolio building ventures were a waste of time too. The only thing I've taken away from it is that I don't want to repeat that and I will probably never want to work a job doing art or animation even if it could pay more than minimum wage crap. My former friend has a successful Patreon, I've encountered dubs of their comics with millions of views on various platforms, their species even got ripped off by someone who just turned their species nsfw, lol. And I draw minecraft men kissing

I'm not happy but I'm not upset about it anymore, even if I still get majorly peeved by some artists who underplay their immense success whilst others are begging for crumbs. (Again they usually mean well but sometimes I do find these people genuinely dislikeable. Anyway). In a perfect world, artists wouldn't have to work their asses of to get grocery money and be so reliant on luck to pop off once and then never have to worry about it again. I'm sad this is what it took for me to realize it's not even for me, after all these years of negligible profit, and I'm sad I was ever led to believe that getting fair pay was possible without all the work I put into trying to get my art out there, only to eventually succeed via pure luck and then not earning a penny from it anyway. Please support and continue to support small artists. If you can, please tip them too. Share and support their work in other ways if you can't or don't want to pay!

With all that said though, I appreciate anyone who has commissioned me during my time in the MCYT fandom, that means so much to me that you like my art that much. And I'm really sorry for the few people I ended up refunding because I didn't feel up to their requests - that's what I mean by the leniency I give myself. If it ever comes close to stressing me out again, I'll just give it up in favor of my mental health haha. And I hope you guys understand. Thank you as well for anyone who's bought my MCYT merch, you are so awesome and I'm actually omw to earning some profit from it eventually which has made me happier than any other art related work I've done

and with THAT said, man NONE of you have used discounts that I've hidden in my text posts previously..!! I reinforce though that regardless, I'm open to haggling if you're tighter on money but want to get a little something. I love you regardless though and thanks for listening to my shit ted talk

[ravenkings]

another thing i’ve been thinking about re: wuthering heights vs jane eyre is relationships towards childhood and “the past” and how they’re kind of opposite in some ways:

in wuthering heights, childhood (for cathy and heathcliff) is mostly this kind of paradise where the rules of society don’t apply and you’re free to run wild with no boundaries and have an almost spiritual communion with nature and the Other, etc. like basically all of heathcliff’s actions once he grows up have the ultimate goal of or drive towards an attempt to reunite with that mythical childhood that was forever lost once the influence of adult society starts to rear its head. there’s a sense of wanting to return to the past and stay there forever (which, of course, is a state that both heathcliff and cathy do attain in the end as ghosts haunting the moors together.)

jane eyre is almost the exact opposite, since it’s a story that is in many ways about jane desperately trying to escape her childhood and finding freedom in adulthood (and adult society.) like, whereas cathy and heathcliff are off running around on the moors as kids, jane is cooped up behind the curtain in the house of an aunt and cousins who hate her and who won’t even let her read books to mentally escape. and when she leaves her aunt’s house to go to lowood school, she is still confined, humiliated, and miserable, though ultimately she finds solace in her work and in her independence which ultimately leads her to leave the scene of childhood again to go to thornfield. and then, when the past (though not necessarily jane’s specifically) rears its head in the form of bertha mason, she leaves once again, abandoning her entire identity (for a time) and relying on her own independence and adult professional skills.

i think what’s notable here is that, for jane, the past and childhood are usually things that she is trying to escape (which, granted, is something she usually is not entirely capable of doing) but they are also things that she actively does not want to really ever define her. 

in contrast, heathcliff and cathy (and most of the other characters of wuthering heights tbh) are caught in this kind of eternal recursion, always trying to grasp that mythical past that is constantly out of reach, except in death. 

i guess, to conclude, i’ll leave you with these two quotes:

“I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free; and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed? why does my blood rush into a hell of tumult at a few words? I'm sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills.”

–Catherine Earnshaw, Wuthering Heights, Chapter 12

“I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and excitements, awaited those who had the courage to go forth into its expanse, to seek real knowledge of life amidst its perils.”

–Jane Eyre, Jane Eyre, Chapter 10

[wenclairfamily]

"The Passion of a Moment" - A Wenclair Family Digital Novel - Now Available!

Click HERE to get a FREE copy of my Wenclair Novel!

Wednesday Addams and Enid Sinclair. They were a duo that shouldn't have worked, but they did… and one night after Wednesday let go of years of discipline and logic that had kept her heart hardened, and finally gave into passion with Enid… it began a journey that would eventually lead to marriage, two twin children, and many incredibly unexpected adventures for their new family.

You can also click "KEEP READING" below to read Chapter 1 now!

Main Artwork by: @annietheartsyartist

From the Diary of Wednesday Addams:

"I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched". It is a quote by Edgar Allan Poe that I have never forgotten. While the specifics of his death have been shrouded in mystery for lifetimes now, it takes only a focused mind to realize it was love that drove him to take his own life. For a mind can no longer remain sane when it opens itself to the maddening desires of the flesh. For logic, rational thinking, tactical planning, and unclouded judgment have no place in the presence of romantic entanglement. I have seen how it clouds my parents' judgment at all times, and makes them behave like fools. Unlike them however, I have learned to keep my mind far more disciplined; always able to be far more prepared and focused on any task at hand. However one night... years of discipline and logic had been forgot... in the passion of a moment..."

Wednesday Addams was walking down the hallway of her dormitory at Nevermore Academy wearing a black bath robe. As Wednesday was headed towards the communal showers, suddenly her room-mate Enid appeared wearing a pink robe, and ran over to Wednesday as she said, "Oh, hey roomie. You taking a shower too? Mind if I join you? We have so much to catch up on." Wednesday barely made eye contact with Enid as she said, "Then you may save my time by writing it down and allowing me to look upon it later. I can read over 200 words a minute, and am experienced at knowing how to skim past trivial information." Enid giggled and said, "Girl, you actually are funny. But come on. We have so many details to spill." Wednesday sighed as she looked at Enid and said, "Enid... your constant need to act like a loyal puppy that shoots out streams of nonsensical words of affection maddened me upon first arrival here at Nevermore Academy. However..." Enid with optimism in her voice, interrupted Wednesday as she said, "However now we're total besties. I know. I mean the other day when I complained about those crows being too noisy, you shot them down with that rifle you stole. I mean you almost got expelled for bringing a firearm into school, but it was knowing you were just trying to help that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside." Wednesday looked slightly nervous for a second, and then said, "The ravens weren't native to this area. They would've disrupted the fragile ecosystem. But with all that being said, my daily half hour of taking a shower is one I prefer to do in peace." Enid smiled as she said, "Got it... So I'll make sure to lock the door after we both go in there so no one will bother us." Wednesday had a look of anger on her face as she continued to walk forward.

Soon Wednesday and Enid walked into the communal bathroom and shower room still wearing their bath robes. As they approached the sink, the two girls got out their toothbrushes and bottles of toothpaste they had in their pockets while Enid said, "So me and him decided to just be friends, and well... now I'm single again. I'm okay with it, but... it is kind of sad." As Wednesday put toothpaste on her toothbrush, she said, "It is sad... considering whenever you went out on dates, it allowed me to have more time to myself in the dorm." Then as Enid put toothpaste on her toothbrush she said, "Oh yeah. You're single too. Sorry things didn't work out for you recently. Still, I'm sure you'll find happiness one day Wednesday. Think you'll find that special man to settle down with one day?" After Wednesday finished brushing her teeth she said, "My mind and soul is not one to be trifled with. For my heart is filled of a darkness infected by cruelty; because it was my crime to have no man on Earth who cared for me, or loved me." As Enid finished brushing her teeth she said, "Oh, so you're not into guys then? Messaged received." An annoyed looking Wednesday then said, "No. I am what the eclectic youth of today would refer to as: asexual."

Enid chuckled and said, "Hey. We're all teenagers at this school. Each one of us is a sexual beast deep inside. I may not want to be a werewolf, but when I lost my virginity to my next door neighbor when I was 13, I was a beast in his bed." A suddenly curious Wednesday then said, "You... have consummated your affections with another individual before?" Enid then casually said, "Yeah. I mean... our relationship didn't last. We were young and didn't know what we were doing. But I can't change the past. What was meant to be is what happened. I have no regrets." A still curious Wednesday then said, "So... you opened yourself up completely to another individual... your emotions led you down a path that did not result in fulfillment... and yet you are still not disturbed by that?" Enid then casually said, "I choose instead to just focus on the future. When me and the boy I lost my virginity to broke up, I was hurt at first. But eventually I had to move on. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Then Wednesday calmly said, "Well... on that philosophy I wholeheartedly agree."

Then Enid stepped towards one of the showers as she said, "Well... time to get clean." Then Enid slowly slipped off her pink bath robe. As she did, Wednesday felt her eyes drawn to Enid's body, which she had never seen naked before. For a moment, Wednesday found her mind feeling drawn to Enid's nude form... but then snapped back to reality, and then slowly took off her bath robe and joined Enid in the shower. As Wednesday put shampoo in her hands, Enid checked out Wednesday's body and said, "Dang girl. You have like... the most perfect naked body I have ever seen." Wednesday felt a loss for words for a moment, and then said, "And you as well... considering you are the first naked underage female I have seen in my entire life." A curious Enid then said, "Wait. You mean you've never looked at porn or like Playboy magazines before?" As Wednesday began to wash her hair, she said, "I choose to use my time more productively. However I can understand why men in many cultures of our world have grown obsessed with the image that is of a beautiful and objectified naked woman, and the fantasy of being their lover. For man always values that which is fleeting, and what is more fleeting than a woman's beauty and her life. The death then of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world, and equally is it beyond doubt that the lips best suited for such topic are those of a bereaved lover."

Then a slightly confused Enid said, "So... you're saying if I died, there would be a bunch of guys out there that would be totally depressed?" As Wednesday glanced at Enid's naked body again she said, "Undoubtedly some men would mourn the loss of their fantasy involving you never coming to pass." Then a sympathetic sounding Enid said, "Well... if you were ever gone Wednesday... I'd feel really bad. Because you never got a chance to open yourself up to love, along with... making love." Wednesday began to wash her naked body under the shower as she turned away and said, "I'd prefer not cloud my judgment with emotional entanglements." Enid then stepped towards Wednesday and said, "But Wednesday, you're so super smart and skilled. Also, you're like one of the strongest girls I know. Stronger beyond measure. If things didn't work out with someone you slept with... I know you would be okay and come out still the strong independent women you are. I mean... come on. You're still a teenager. There's gotta be someone you're attracted to here at this school."

Wednesday then looked down with a troubled look on her face. Enid for a moment thought Wednesday was looking away from her. Then Enid noticed Wednesday's eyes were checking out her wet naked body, and then Enid's eyes widened as she said, "Oh... oh my. You... Wednesday... I'm flattered. But... how long have you had a crush on me?" Wednesday keeping her usual serious tone said, "I... have never experienced a crush on anyone. When I first moved into our dorm, your personality and life preferences made me want to consider actions of homicide. However as I stood over your defenseless sleeping body the first night I moved in, I... found myself feeling... pity for you... and eventually... a form of... special respect. However... I do not wish to go steady or put a ring on it as you may say." Enid then waved her hands briefly and said, "No, no. That's okay. Look Wednesday... we don't have to put on a label on what you are or how you feel. I mean... I've felt something for you since you moved in. But it's hard for me to put it into words too. So... how about we just explore how we feel tonight. And when morning comes, if you want to keep exploring our feelings, we will. And if you don't want to keep exploring it, that's fine. We can act like it never happened. No strings attached with me. You can do whatever you want with me. Is that okay?" Wednesday was still for a moment, and then she silently nodded her head.

Both Wednesday and Enid stood still in the showers for a moment as they starred at each other's naked bodies, while also waiting for the other to make the first move. Then Enid noticed despite the room being warm, Wednesday's hands were slightly shaking. Enid then made a little smile, and decided to make the first move. She moved towards Wednesday and then kissed her on the lips. It was a three second short kiss, as Wednesday remained completely still, while only Enid leaned her upper body and head forward. Wednesday and Enid looked into each other's eyes again, waiting to see what would happen next. This time however Wednesday leaned her head forward slightly. Enid leaned her head forward more, and then the two teenage girls kissed again. Enid then wrapped her arms around Wednesday's back. Enid then broke her kiss with Wednesday and smiled, while Wednesday looked confused. Enid giggled and said, "It's okay. Just go at your own pace, and explore how you feel. Whatever you wanna do, we'll do."

Then Wednesday suddenly and quickly shoved Enid hard into the shower wall with her shoulders pinned. Wednesday immediately kissed Enid more aggressively now as Enid looked shocked at first, but soon began to look pleased and responded by moving her fingers through Wednesday's long hair. Wednesday meanwhile ran her hands down Enid's wet backside, and soon found herself grabbing her roommate's firm smooth buttocks. Wednesday squeezed Enid's butt cheeks, causing Enid to moan. Suddenly though the two girls found themselves almost slipping on the wet shower floor. Enid caught Wednesday from falling down, and then said, "Umm... maybe we should switch this to another location?" Wednesday then to Enid's surprise: made a grin.

In less than a minute, Wednesday and Enid were on Enid's bed in their dorm room completely naked while kissing. However soon the kissing moved from each other's lips to all over their bodies. Then in a private moment only the two young women would ever remember... they made love. For hours, Enid and Wednesday pleasured the other in the most intimate way possible; causing the other to moan in pleasure and even call out the others' name. After hours passed though, soon the love making between the two young women ended. Exhausted, both Enid and Wednesday began to fall asleep. The last thing Wednesday saw before she drifted to sleep was Enid smiling at her, and the last thing Enid saw before she drifted to sleep was Wednesday's face full of many mixed emotions...

The next morning Enid slowly woke up, and saw a blanket was covering most of her naked body. Enid then turned her head and saw a fully dressed Wednesday was sitting in a chair nearby finishing her breakfast. Enid smiled and said, "Hey beautiful. So... did you have as good time as I did last night?" As Wednesday began to prepare to clean the breakfast table, she said, "It was... very pleasurable." Then a curious Enid said, "But... how do you feel? I mean... emotionally and mentally? I mean for me... I feel so alive and happy right now. I mean... you literally made me hit my climax six times in one night, and I made you hit your climax seven times. I mean... you were doing some crazy stuff I never know you were capable of. I mean... that whole experience had to have affected you in some way, or caused something to change in your mind." As Wednesday cleaned the table, she said, "Well... the experience did cause me to think about us... in another life." A confused Enid then said, "You mean... you think we could only be together in a different life?"

Wednesday turned her head and said, "No. I mean in a past one. You see, I have visions of the past sometimes, and... as I experienced my orgasm last night, I saw a vision of us in a past life. The two of us were lovers. In my vision, we were two women that looked just like us in the 1800's in a small English village. We had deep romantic feelings for one another, but upon our sexual activities being discovered by the terrible village elders, we were sentenced to a private execution. And that execution as it happened, felt as real as I've felt anything. Bullets after bullets penetrated my flesh, my muscles, my face, my heart. In my vision I felt the cold release of death take over me... and the feeling came to me just as I felt myself hit my final climax. It truly was the most wonderful sensation I've ever felt in my life."

A confused Enid then said, "Wait. What was the most wonderful sensation? The sex or the shooting in your... You know what, it's all good. So do you like... wanna do that again some time? Or we could dial things back, and just take a walk in the woods together and talk some more." Wednesday made a little smile and said, "A nice idea... but your chains do not extend as far as the woods. I shall see you later." Wednesday then left the room and closed the door behind her. A confused Enid then tried to get up, but felt something strange. Enid then took the blanket off her naked body, and saw she was chained to the bed by her ankles. Enid looked very freaked out for a moment... but then calmed down... smiled... and said, "I think we're definitely gonna do it again."

THE END

LINKS BELOW TO READ ENTIRE SERIES:

-Download Link to Read All my Past Wenclair Stories in One PDF

-https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14168842/1/The-Passion-of-a-Moment-Enid-and-Wednesday-s-Family-and-Legacy (Web Link for M-rated version of my stories)

-https://archiveofourown.org/works/43420609 (alternate Web Link for M-rated version of my stories)

-https://www.wattpad.com/user/WenclairFamily (Web link for T-rated version of my stories)

[thebrookesnook]

Okay I know it's been a while since I've last talked about MILAOWM, bUT HOLY SHIT THE CHAPTER 113 AND 114 IS FUCKING WILD.

Heavy spoilers below and ranting on the recent chapters (mostly chapter 114 with key information from chapters 110-113).

LET'S ADDRESS THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM:

This girl is fucking insane. Literally. Previously when we were given glimpses to the cult-like meeting she was holding in Chapter 74, I had originally thought "Oh this is definitely gonna be relevant later on". WELP, here's the relevancy: turns out Dodolea has more knowledge on the Blood Curse of the Lapileons and SHE was the reason for the Regression of the Victims of the Blood Curse! She has been using human sacrifice from her cult following to, in words of her followers and herself "speak to the gods" (whatever the fuck that means), for powers & spells in order to get what she wanted from the start: Therdeo.

She's so gone off the deep end that the mother of the next in-line sacrifice orchestrated a bombing of a (relatively) small gathering just to kidnap Pereshati for Dodolea. Heavens, the way she freely admitted to her crimes to a bruised up Pereshati, especially the SA of Therdeo that night, without care and STOLE Pereshati's ring (that was given to her by Therdeo a few chapters ago) just to put it on her finger was horrifying and maddening.

Those weren't even the end of it either. Dodolea decided that kidnapping her, telling her she raped her husband, stealing her ring, and being the cause of her (and others') regression wasn't enough humiliation for Pereshati. No no, she decided that she'll humiliate Pereshati even more by drugging one of the nobles the cult kidnapped into raping the MC just to show Therdeo and everyone, in Dodolea's words, "how fickle she is".

...

Dodolea Cantor when I catch you, istg when I catch you-

The fact she's doing all this for her twisted obsession with Therdeo makes me sick. But I'm also curious to know how and when this obsession started, how long has she known about the Blood Curse and why Therdeo?

Considering that all we know of her from the original timeline (pre-Pereshati's regression) was from her limited knowledge that Dodelia had died from unknown causes. So did they perhaps meet beforehand? If so, what happened? Does this have anything to do with the mysterious first wife of Therdeo who divorced him after a few months and left? So many questions Seungu!!! 😭

ANOTHER BIG QUESTION:

Who is Adeus Potson?

I was kind of in-between when his character showed up for the first time. I noticed many of the readers immediately drew up fences thinking he was the second love interest, but so far he hasn't made any advances towards Pereshati. If anything, she doesn't particularly like the guy after she learns about his opinions on Therdeo (we love a partner who sticks up for the SO!!), even so she still gave him medcine and balms to heal his wounds (like my girl Pereshati is too kind). He definitely has an antagonistic relationship with Therdeo but I get the sense it was because his opinion was formed by little to go off of but public opinion OR there was a backstory about these two.

But other than his dynamic with our Pereshati, Therdeo & Rebecca, there's not much left to go off other than it was established he was a journalist, other nobles seem to hate him (Chapter 112) due to his connections (?) and he has a soft spot for common folk (likely one himself previously mayhaps?).

At the end of Chapter 114, he had somehow gotten free from bindings and without hesitation killed the men holding them captive and prevented Pereshati from her fate. I'm taking note of how unbothered he was after killing multiple people with ease. In fact, there was barely any struggle at all. Quite different from our first meeting with him.

Who is this man and what is his relevance to our main characters? How does he fit into the grand scheme of things? What exactly is his relationship with Therdeo?

Last thing I want to touch upon is Celphi's biological mother, Harari Aakman. I'm still undecided what to feel about her yet, so I'll hold my tongue about her until new information is revealed. What I will say about her is that she was going to visit Pereshati in that party which means she was at least considering on talking to her!! Which unfortunately was the same time the bombing happened skksks 😭😭. What luck you Lapileons have I swear.

[padfootastic]

Hello I have come to you with another Prongsfoot thought: James absolutely losing his mind when he comes home one day (or comes back to the dorm one day) to find Sirius wearing his jersey (and perhaps nothing else hehehe.)

oh but i’ve got just the thing for you, miss imp 😉 this is a headcanon i’ve had for the longest time, because james is absolutely the kind of person who loses his mind when his partner wears his name on them. and we already know anything sirius does is maddening for him sooooooo this is. a deadly combination.

(i’ve posted this before but it’s gotten lost in the Great Tumblr Archival System so i’m reposting it hehehehe)

“Alright, James, this can’t go on anymore,” Sirius said, voice firm, arms crossed across his chest. James blinked, eyes dragging up from where they’d been fixed on his collarbones, unusually exposed in the large jersey, to focus on furrowed brows and suspicious grey eyes.

“What can’t go on anymore?”

“This—whatever’s going on with you!” Sirius threw one arm out in emphasis. “You’ve been acting off the entire day, do you realise?”

James tilted his head in question, silently asking for him to elaborate. He knew he’s been…a little distracted, but it couldn’t have been so much as to call for this intervention, surely?

“James!” Sirius says, exasperated and really, that’s one too many times he’s called him by his full name. He can’t even remember the last time Sirius did that. “You crashed into a wall twice, tripped over Mrs. Norris’ tail and had to hide inside a suit of armor to avoid her claws—then you fell over in the damn thing and got a bump the size of an ostrich egg on your head. Five seconds ago, you almost plummeted off the staircase to your death and now you’ve been somewhere Not Here the entire time I’ve been talking. Seriously, what gives?”

Okay, maybe, put it that way, it sounded quite bad but James didn’t intend to be so scatter brained! He was having a perfectly decent time, had his head screwed on straight and then Sirius had to go and mess all that up! He was not prepared for the sight of him walking out of the shower, a cloud of steam escaping behind him. His hair was half wet and pulled back, cheeks flushed red from the heat and most importantly, he was wearing James’ Quidditch Jersey.

The one that was at least two sizes bigger than Sirius usual clothes. And the one that, when his best mate turned around, had POTTER emblazoned in huge letters across the shoulders. James had just stood there, jaw slack and fingers clenched around his tie, taking in the sight. He knew what his jersey looked like, had worn it hundreds of times, but he never knew it could be like this.

And that had just been the beginning. It seemed like with every passing hour, Sirius looked better in the damn thing than before which—shouldn’t be possible considering how extremely good he looked in the first place. Seriously, if James wasn’t as…confident as he was, he would’ve definitely gotten a complex by now. As it was, Wormtail always looked a bit peaky around Sirius. Just before their first class, Sirius’ had dried into his usual perfect curls, loose strands framing his face. By the time second rolled around, the jersey had slipped off one shoulder, exposing sharp collarbones. James didn’t even know bones could look so- so obscene but here he was, proven wrong. Right after lunch, Sirius had gotten frustrated with how much the fabric was flapping and had casually used his hair tie to knot it in the back.

This led to two things. First, his hair was now free to tumble around his face, leaving James with the strongest urge to run his hands through it, or perhaps even tick strands behind one ear. He only avoided doing so by utilising pressing his fingers into his palms to the point of pain. The second, more maddening, one was that now, it wasn’t just his unnervingly attractive shoulder but also his waist that was on tantalising display. Every time he stretched, or raised his hand in class, or ran a hand through his hair—the jersey would ride up until Sirius’ pale skin peeked through and honestly, was it really a wonder that James almost walked off the moving staircases the first time he got a glimpse of that happening?

The entire day was an exercise in making him lose his mind, he was certain. Somewhere, he had pissed off a deity and they wanted him to suffer because there was no other explanation for this. James had never been one to feel possessive. In fact, he loved sharing everything he had with the people around him. Their joy was his joy and all that. Hell, Sirius and him had been wearing each other’s clothes since first year when Sirius hadn’t had anything except uncomfortably formal robes for Christmas morning, which was an atrocity because everyone knew you wore ugly sweaters on the day so he’d given his to Sirius and DIY’d one for himself. Of course, as James started playing Quidditch and bulked up harder and faster than anyone could’ve predicted, it had decreased until the only things they really shared were robes and ties.

But seeing his name on Sirius? Plastered across his body, marking him as James’? He just knew, right there and then, that he could never go back. Now that he’d felt what it was like, that burning heat deep in his gut, the dizzying feeling of seeing Sirius look so…delicate—there was no way he couldn’t crave more of it. In his head, James had already started making plans for now he could, inconspicuously, get Sirius’ in his jersey more often. Because it absolutely has to happen again, James hasn’t had nowhere near enough of the sight.

“Jamie? James!” A hand waved in front of him, ripping him away from his pleasant daydreams of seeing Sirius in nothing but his jersey. His face flamed red, not even realising the direction his thoughts had travelled in until he blinked and saw Sirius standing in front of him, looking bemused and dressed perfectly respectably (James was trying very hard to ignore the skin visible just above his waistband.

“Er—sorry,” James said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Went away for a second there.”

“That’s exactly what I mean! You’ve been drifting away quite a bit today.”

“It’s not—Seriously, nothing’s wrong—“

“I never said it was,” Sirius said, shrewdly, making James immediately choke on his words as he tried to backtrack.

“No—That’s not…I mean—“ James’ teeth snapped shut with an incriminating ‘clack’ as Sirius steps closer to him, toed shoes touching at the tips. Close enough that they were breathing the same air, for James to see the shades of grey in Sirius’ eyes. Close enough that he could feel the movement of Sirius’ chest as he breathed deeply.

“Si?” he croaks, throat too dry all of a sudden.

“Won’t you tell me what happened, James?” Sirius’ voice was soft, pitched low and James had to strain his ears to hear him properly. He gulped unsteadily, eyes tracking the way Sirius tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, leaving a maddening shine behind.

“Si,” he said, again, tone matching Sirius’. One of his hands had, without his permission, travelled to the waist he’d been eyeing for the better part of the day. It was featherlight, barely even a touch, really, but the way Sirius shuddered when his hand made contact with warm skin was entirely too much for James’ already fraying self control. His fingers twitched, hard, in an attempt to stop but in the next second, they’d wrapped themselves entirely around the body in his arms. James’ forearm was pressed tight against Sirius’ back, their noses were mere inches away, and Sirius’ eyes were more than halfway shut.

James took a deep breath himself and let his hand press imprints into the curve of Sirius’ waist. The only response he got was the feeling of Sirius’ forehead pressing into his shoulder, arms wrapping around him in return.

It was then that James let his own shoulders unclench, let himself relax like he hadn’t the whole day. A soft smile lifted his lips as he thought about where to go from here

“You’ll wear this for me again, won’t you, darling?” he asked, pressing the question into Sirius’ dark curls with a kiss. He didn’t get a reply but he didn’t need one. Sirius’ hitched breath was enough of an answer for him.

[arathenerd]

✨Fanfic soulmate AU idea for Merthur✨

Hi, hey, hello.

So. Here’s the thing: this idea has been literally living in my mind rent free and it has developed into a sort of monster idea at this rate. I NEED this thing out so maybe someone actually competent at writing can pick it up and make me very very happy. So. So. So. I’m gonna divide this post in three parts to make it more understandable and all that, starting with the world building.

World building 🌎

I know what you are thinking. “Oh, soulmate au, must be very straightforward and boring” NO MY FRIEND.

Usually, in a soulmate au, a superior divine power (be it a god, the universe, or whatever) chooses the characters partners without their intervention. In this world, the characters are the ones who choose their soulmate.

“What?” Yeah. Hear me out.

In this world magic not only exists, but it’s also widely accepted and integrated in society. That includes practices such as marriage, which can be accomplished in three different ways.

Your usual magicless ceremony, though in this world is not as popular as,

Emotional-bonding ceremony. Pretty self explanatory, I think, but nevertheless, is about bonding emotionally with your partner, which means people can feel what the other is feeling. Is believed that this bond allows for a deeper connection in the relationship. And then there’s the most rare one,

The soul-bond ceremony. Like I said, extremely rare. This is mostly because of a series of different reasons, but is also considered the most important marriage bond you could ever have, if you do, and is widely romanticized. Soul-bonded pairs, because of this, are deeply respected, to the point that separating them is considered a grave violation.

Some of the reasons why soul-bondings are extremely rare:

a. It doesn’t work for everyone. What I mean with this, is that just being in love with someone isn’t enough. The soul bond requires not only a deep mutual understanding, but a love that transcends the body. In a matter of speaking, your soul has to be in love with the other person's soul.

b. It’s not enough if you do happen to love that person that way, but the same kind of love it’s not returned. It needs to be mutual.

c. It cannot be forced. You can’t make an arranged marriage with a soul-bonding ceremony. If the people involved aren’t willing and don’t feel like that, the magic simply won’t take. And finally,

d. Not that many go for it? I mean, the prospect of a soul bond is daunting as it is but on top of that, this ceremony is not as simple as that. As the name itself tells you, this is a soul-bonding ceremony. You are literally uniting your souls. That’s not only permanent, my friend, it will also transcend your mortal life and bleed into the next. Do you have any idea how desperately and profoundly in love you have to be to go for it? Yeah, exactly.

As you probably noticed, yes, this is where the chosen soulmate thing comes into play 😏.

Reincarnation exists in this world, but mostly, people can never know if they are reincarnations or new souls… unless, of course, the had a soul-bond from a past life.

People really don’t get flashbacks or memories if they do happen to be reincarnations, soulmate or not. There’s no such thing as a soulmark but the universe does have its ways to push people that are supposed to be close together.

You know when you are about to go on a trip, add all these thing to your baggage, and feel like you have everything you need, except… no. Not quite so. There’s something missing. You turn around your room, even search the bathroom, but for the life of you, you can’t figure it out. The feeling it’s maddening, anxiety inducing, really. What is missing?

And then, you can’t wait anymore and need to leave, so you do. You get to your hotel, and, while unpacking, it hits you. Suddenly you know exactly what you left behind and, yes, it turns out to be something you very much need.

That feeling, that nagging at the back of your brain, it’s how it feels to be reborn soul-bonded. Not that people can recognize it easily. Besides that, there’s the hunches. Sudden strong feelings that say “yeah, if I do this, if I go down this path, I’ll get closer to finding this thing I need, even if I don’t know what it is yet”. It’s slow working, but people always get there. Eventually. It only takes one look for your soul to sing in recognition.

Also, just because they are soulmates doesn’t mean they immediately fall in love. They are still strangers to each other. It’s more like, meeting someone and having the perfect comfort that if you work for it, give it your all, you will find a love like no other at the other side.

Engagements are also done with magic, usually. The practice is as sort of more formal promise, because once a person is magically engaged to another, any magic done in a ceremony (marriage) that isn’t done with the person you are engaged with simply won’t take.

Not only that, but if you happen to already be married (either with an emotional bond or a soul bond) and try to get engaged, the magic won’t take either. This means that if you are a reincarnated soul with a soulmate, you might find something new about yourself at your engagement ceremony lol.

Unless you happen to do a magicless ceremony I guess, but like I said, it’s really not the preferred thing.

Arthur in this AU 👑

After laying down the basics, who’s Arthur in this AU, within my head?

He’s the crown prince of a kingdom (it can be Britain if you wish, or a modern Camelot, idk, it really doesn’t matter) and he’s about to go through his engagement ceremony. *gasps*

Is an arranged marriage, of course. If you write this, you can choose whoever you like to be the woman at the other side, but either way it’s not gonna last.

Arthur, of course, isn’t happy about it but knows this is his duty and all. Never mind the constant feeling that he’s doing something he really shouldn’t be doing, or the feeling of guilt he doesn’t understand.

The ceremony is a public affair. Nobility, high society and royalty are all there to witness the event as expected, including journalists to document the event. Then the ceremony begins, Gaius, the Court Sorcerer to King Uther, doing the spell casting. Except, it doesn’t take.

The guests, who had been silently expectant, suddenly start quietly murmuring. What’s happening?

Uther frowns, going to Gaius, wanting an explanation. Calmly, Gaius tells him that the engagement won’t be possible, since the magic bounced against Arthur. The murmuring gets louder. Is the prince already engaged? Married? Oh, my!

Uther turns to his son, red in the face, screaming “what have you done?!” But Arthur is just as confused as everyone else. He says as much.

Gaius intervenes, telling the king there’s no point in being mad at Arthur, since the soul bond was clearly done in a past life.

Now people are really going nuts with this. Soul bond? It’s rare of course, but do you have any idea how many centuries it has been since a noble, let alone a royal, was soul-bonded? Let alone the crown prince?

Arthur can feel his heart beat out of his chest.

.

This is pretty much the only clear scene I have in my head, so, yeah. I also played with the idea of having a sort of soul-tracking spell that lets you see who’s at the other side of the soul bond as if it was tv and make everyone look at Merlin and realize it’s him but I wouldn’t know how to make it work. If you can, I might kiss you.

Merlin in this AU 🧔🏻🪄

So, you probably noticed Gaius being Court Sorcerer to king Uther there, didn’t you. It will be relevant here.

Court Sorcerers and monarchs in this world work as a team. Usually, when a new king is crowned, a new court sorcerer will be named, and this sorcerer will be the most powerful one of the same generation as the will-be-king. Sometimes, they'll meet before the kingship, sometimes after. There aren’t really any hard rules about that.

The new Court Sorcerer prospect is not obliged to say yes, but it is considered a high honor. Not that Merlin in particular wanted to.

Merlin is not only the most powerful of his generation, but also the most powerful to be born in centuries. This is not surprising, since it doesn’t matter if he’s reincarnated or not, Merlin is always going to be the most powerful one. But I digress.

He was found by Gaius, when he was 17, barely getting out of school. He explained the process: he would go trough training, and when the time came, he’ll take his place.

Merlin really wanted to say no. He almost did, but something stopped him. A hunch, a feeling that, maybe, just maybe, saying yes would be worth it. The feeling was strong enough for him to doubt his original stance, and then, to yield.

And so, the man would spend years under Gaius’s tutelage on all things magic and royal customs and etiquette, these days being closer to his thirties (somewhere between 25 and 29 years old). And everything would be perfectly fine if he hadn’t had the most curious dream.

You see, I said that people usually don’t remember their past lives but Merlin is a bit different. He’s pretty sure this was a past life.

In the memory, he’s running through the woods. He runs, runs, runs, feeling the heartbreak, the pain, the tears running down his face.

Modern Merlin doesn’t know it, but his past self would dare to soul bond with prince Arthur of Camelot, even knowing he wasn’t his to have. They did it because they wanted something only theirs, for once. Something no one could take away. But, as was usual when it came to duty, prince Arthur would be forced to marry eventually. And that day was that day.

So Merlin runs. Eventually, he reaches a hidden stone cellar, abandoned a while ago. He goes in it, burying the precious item within. He buries it because he knows no one must ever find it. The gods only know what would happen if the nobles or, gods forbid, the king figured out what they’ve done. So he buries his dreams and hopes, protects them with magic so they are not eroded and damaged by the earth, enchants the cellar so it doesn’t fall apart on top of it, no matter how much time passes.

A sudden fear paralyzes him. What if he tried to recover it and didn’t find it? No. That wasn’t an option. He was being a fool, he knew. He would never get the item back. But just in case, he needed to make sure that he could.

And so, the Merlin of the past didn’t know it, but, the spell might have worked too well. The point was to brand the location in his brain, but he’s so desperate, so scared, he doesn’t realize he branded it in his soul.

Modern Merlin wonders at this memory, wonders at the sudden necessity to go look for the item. But the thing isn’t there anymore, is it? It probably never was. It was just a dream.

And yet, before he knows it, he’s already looking, something he can’t name driving him forward. He feels ridiculous, set for disappointment, but he can’t stop. He walks as if he knows where he’s going.

His heart stops when he sees the beat down entrance of the cellar. It goes up to his throat when he goes without stopping to the specific place the item was hidden. He chokes on it when he knows not only where it is, but how deep it was buried.

And then, it’s in his hand.

The ring is simple, but beautiful. A gold band with elegant Celtic runes. Merlin looks at it, fascinated. He can feel the magic embedded in it. Soul-bonding magic.

He gasps. It is believed that touching a soul-bonding item that’s not yours is bad luck, but he has the all encompassing feeling that this ring is his.

Now, within the library he seats with Will and tries to pretend there isn’t a necklace around his neck with a ring hanging from it, hidden under his clothes.

Finishing thoughts 💭

If you write this in a slow burn, longish fic, with angst but also mostly softness and drama from an external threat I would love you forever. Bonus points if you use third pov, specially with the media. I love when that’s included with characters that are supposed to be public. I mean, people gushing about the fairy tale with prince Arthur on twitter? Newspapers documenting what’s happening? Yes please. External pov is the best.

Super extra points if you write it without miscommunication being the center of the angst and the fic. Forget kissing you, I would soul bond with you.

Anyway that’s it. It’s pretty long, but hopefully someone feels as excited as I do about this AU and picks it up. If you do, don’t forget to leave the link in the comments ❤️.

[gone-series-orchid]

literally one of my biggest gripes with gone is just how wasted the characters are. like all the women obviously because god forbid a woman have depth but also the male characters.

like, i hate caine as the character he is and i’m so annoyed at the potential he had. he was given away while sam was kept. that’s gotta be damaging. he was sent to coates that had a reputation for “troubled kids”. he was bitter, jealous and most importantly 14. the shit he did in the first book was horrific but all the coates trio shouldered some blame (diana less but still) giving him some leeway. drake was turned into the “big baddy” giving the angle of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” allowing an opportunity for caine (and diana) to join perdido gang under “we kinda have to” circumstances in which we could’ve watched both of them grow and repent the best they could for their actions (again more caine than diana) and then caine could sacrifice himself and it wouldn’t have felt so hollow. i have so much more i could elaborate on but part of the reason i hate caine so much is that he could’ve been so much more just like so many of the other characters.

sorry for the rambling

never be sorry for rambling, anon! i love rambling. i do it all the time!

i agree that caine's character had wasted potential. i really think mg just exaggerated his cruelty way too much in the first book for any redemption to work, though, at least imo. i'm not sure the argument that the coates trio all had a part in the cementing really holds up under scrutiny--caine's clearly positioned himself as the ultimate authority on things, so drake successfully swaying him to do such a cruel thing either makes caine weirdly malleable (which feels too vaguely out of character for me to take seriously, especially since he just established that he wanted to be king of the fayz, thus not sharing the power with orc or any of the perdido beach thugs).

not to mention cementing however many mutant kids in coates must've taken a lot of time and premeditated activity, (getting the cement in the first place, etc.). even if caine did it with his telekinesis, there would be a lot of time for him to come to his senses about how screwed up it is. and he just...doesn't. which to me seems a lot more evil than i think mg wanted it to be. drake may be a sadist, but he's not the one insisting he should have unchecked power and doesn't pretend to be doing things for the greater good. and diana is definitely culpable, too, but she doesn't have any direct hand in the cementing as far as we know. still is an absolutely terrible look for her morality-wise and one of the number one reasons i've never liked her much, but she definitely isn't as bad as caine.

i totally agree that, once drake lost his arm and was cemented (ha!) as the big bad antagonist he is, caine should have stopped being an active thorn in sam and co.'s side. it's kind of baffling that caine's one of the only characters who's gone into the mineshaft and realized the extent of the gaiaphage's evil, to the point of going catatonic over it, but then after he recovers he just goes on as normal, trying to take over the fayz. he makes tenuous peace with sam in order to get the mineshaft plugged up or whatever at the end of hunger, but his trajectory doesn't change overall. it's low-key maddening. i totally agree that a sooner redemption would make caine's sacrifice that much more narratively satisfying!

thanks so much for the ask! please feel free to send more!

[punch-love]

(currently in the middle of reading ch.8) I've been meaning to ask this for awhile now, and this feels like the perfect chapter release to finally ask it-

What (if any) pieces of horror media would you say inspire you in your own work?

I love this question! Horror is my favorite genre, and there are a couple different things I pulled from specifically for this project.

The two biggest influences were probably the Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson and the movie Girl on the Third Floor.

I really love the way that Jackson writes about the relationship between the house and Nell. It's such a slow, maddening spiral, and the house is so malevolent and also strangely entangled with her. It's such a psychological book, and the fact that Nell is an unreliable narrator really makes it that much more compelling. I also loved the way the house exists as a character and its unique way of communicating (and the terrible consequence of what it wants.) I like that it's a tragedy that couldn't be avoided, and that what the house ultimately pushes her to do is probably the biggest mercy anyone ever allowed her. I really like horror when the monster is kind in a way that is only justified by the sickness of outside circumstances somehow being worse.

Girl on the Third Floor is probably my favorite haunted house movie, again, because of how personable the house is. It's a haunted whorehouse, and the house takes on such a personality and sensuality in a way that I've never really seen done before. The way it interacts with the protagonist is so erotic and cruel, and there are so many hauntings in that movie that live in my brain rent-free even though it's been years since I've seen it. (I don't want to spoil it if you haven't seen it, but there's a specific shower scene that - I just - )

I love the visuals of Crimson Peak and the way that the ghosts are never going to leave, and how that's a fate sealed for them long before they ever become ghosts. The scariest movie I ever saw as a kid was Monster House and I think that cemented a sentient, living house in a relationship with a human being as one of the most terrifying concepts in my mind forever.

I'm sure there are more, but those are the ones that come to mind. If anyone ever has good haunted house/ghost media to recommend to me, I'm always open to adding new things to my queue.

[tcookies777]

I’m glad to see that you aren’t letting those trolls/haters affect you too much. Has this experience change the way you see the kakasaku fandom or how you feel about the ship? How is it different from sasusaku fandom?

There’s a preview out for Sasuke retsuden episode that you can look at but it’s horrible. The ugly art style you are talking is the one we are getting. Moreover the script writer is the one that hates sakura so he’s gonna add stupid lines that make sakura looks bad again. It’s hopeless already for me so I’m gonna pretend like there’s no anime adaption.

It doesn't affect me as much as it would've had I been a younger, newer writer. But with 10 years under my belt, I'm sad to say I've experienced worse and seen other fanfic writers go through worse as well. I will say though that everyone has their limits, and when a writer gets constant hate and harassment over something they're providing for FREE, they will eventually quit altogether.

Sending hate to a fanfic writer because they're going on break and/or because they didn't write a full sex scene in the 1st of the 4 acts of the story serves to accomplish nothing but motivate the writer to abandon the fic for good.

Want a sex scene? Don't nag the writer for it because all the constant nagging turns us off from wanting to write it anymore. Want the writer to return to the fic sooner? Don't bitch at the writer for taking a break because it makes them want to NEVER return to the fic at all.

And then you get no sex scene as well as a huge cliffhanger forever.

Which is possibly what the haters want?? Otherwise, why would anyone think that bitching at the writer will magically make the writer want to submit to such demands at their own expense? It is so illogical and stupidly counterproductive.

Thus, many fanfics are abandoned and even deleted.

And honestly if it does reach that point, I will abandon and delete TAOL if I have to. I've been forced to do it before, and not just for my sanity but also for my safety. I've since come to understand my boundaries and enforce them when needed.

However, I don't like judging a whole group just because of the behavior of the few, so I don't think it'd be fair of me to look at the KakaSaku fandom or ship in a different light. Besides, every single corner of every single fandom always has some toxic people; that's unavoidable.

In comparison to my experience with writing for the SasuSaku fandom though, my SasuSaku readers are more chill for me if I have to be completely honest. I never had any rude comments when I was working on my SasuSaku fics or got harassed for going on break. All my SasuSaku readers have always been kind and supportive. Not once did I ever get a reader complaining that they have so many questions about the plot's mystery - and there is SO much mystery in When the Flowers Cry than in TAOL. When the Flowers Cry is so much more fun to write because readers just post their theories instead of demanding me to hurry and give them the answers to the plot or hurry up and write sex already.

And whenever I go on break for TAOL, there's always a handful of readers who get pissed at me regardless if my absence is due to surgery or a medical emergency - they get pissed at me no matter what. Meanwhile, I have been on break from both When the Flowers Cry and Cut Me Down but I'll Still Rise for ~2 years now and not one SasuSaku reader has sent hate my way. Not a single one.

So even though I don't look at either fandom groups in a different light, I will say my experience in writing SasuSaku fics and writing KakaSaku fics are so startlingly different from each other that you can probably guess which of the 2 audiences I enjoy writing for more.

As for that damn script writer for the Retsuden anime... I guess that was inevitable too. Still, it maddens me to hear that news. I did watch clips of the anime but it just does not do the novel justice. Years of waiting for the anime to treat Sakura right and I just keep waiting like a fool.

I'll just follow your example and pretend the anime doesn't exist either lol.

I am enjoying the manga but I do feel like the rubble scene with Sakura could have been executed better. I would've liked an extra panel or two depicting Sasuke desperately lifting the rocks to get to Sakura and his hand worn out from digging but maybe I'm just being picky!

P.S. - I'm so sorry for the late reply! I thought I'd posted this but just found out it'd been sitting in my drafts the whole time - so sorry!

[thelibrarylesstrektraveled]

Nightingale Chapter Four - This or That

Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Four: This or That

Word Count: 3398

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing!

Masterlist

Nightingale Masterlist

You hung up the phone with a disgusted huff and rubbed at your temple, trying to massage away the ever-present headache. You were frustrated and disheartened. It had been one week since your accident on the lake and you still had not regained your memory. Lord knows you tried, but that only seemed to agitate your concussion and add to your anxiety. You felt like an idiot and a burden. Your sleep schedule was non-existent. You’d toss and turn at night then pass out in the middle of the day for hours. Usually during a movie, sometimes in the middle of a conversation. Like a cranky toddler, it was downright embarrassing!

You tried to help around the house doing laundry or dishes only to be thwarted by your knight in shining armor. Jensen had to be the most dedicated caretaker in the free world. He never seemed put out or annoyed to be helping you. He gently shooed you away from anything strenuous. He was so easy to talk to, although you often felt that you weren’t doing much to hold up your end of the conversation. He flat out refused any effort on your part to contribute in some way aside from cuddles. Which was another thing, there was an easy affection between the two of you.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asked one day. He went to wrap his arm around you, as he had many times before only this time he stopped halfway. “All you have to do is say, I won’t be offended.”

“Mind what? Cuddles?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of a touchy-feely guy,” he ducked his head like a bashful little boy. “My family’s the same way, big huggers. Call it southern hospitality. I know some people aren’t comfortable with it so just tell me if I cross the line.”

“I haven’t noticed any line crossing. Plus, I’m like ninety percent sure that cuddling is crucial to my recovery.”

You were worried that you were becoming too comfortable, too dependent on him. Add it to the list of things you were worried about. You worried what would happen if your memories never came back and you worried what would happen if they did. Either way, this arrangement wasn’t going to last forever. Eventually, Jensen would want to return to his normal life. He had a career and family, friends. No matter what reassurances he gave, you knew you were an obligation to him. He liked you sure, but once he felt it was fulfilled, he’d send you on your way. He’s a great guy, a prince even, but everyone has their limits.

Every day when you woke up with no memories of your life before the accident you felt tightness in your chest. Like being weighed down with a ton of bricks and someone kept adding to the pile, crushing you. As the bruises slowly but surely healed and faded away, your anxiety grew. Your body was healing, but your mind was not. What’s worse is that there seemed to be nothing you could do about it. It was maddening and at times, terrifying.

There was one thought you kept coming back to; if it was this bad with Jensen around as your support system… how bad was it going to be when the time came to leave? How were you ever going to cope with being on your own after this?

Jensen walked into the kitchen in time to see you toss the phone on the counter, “No luck?”

“Voicemail.”

“Again? We should swing by after your check up.” he suggested, pulling on a denim jacket over his t-shirt. “You’ve left tons of messages and they never get back to you.”

“I just don’t think it’s a priority for the Vancouver PD. There was no crime committed. They ran my prints and came up empty. Until someone comes looking for me, I don’t think there’s much they can do.”

“Still seems like a bunch of bull to me.” Jensen held out one of his spare jackets.

You put your arms through the sleeves as he brought it up over your shoulders, trying to hide the wince as your ribs pinched. “Hopefully the doctor will have some advice on how I can work on my memory problem. Then I won’t have to wait on Vancouver’s finest.”

Jensen hummed under his breath as he pulled the jacket closer around you and zipped it up all the way to you chin. He was always humming and usually not even aware he was doing it. It was one of his more adorable traits. When he finally met your eyes he realized he basically dressed and fussed over you like you were a little kid. You raised your eyebrows expectantly and he cleared his throat as he released you.

He grabbed his phone and keys from the counter, trying to be casual. “Let’s hit the road.”

This was the first time you’d ventured out of the apartment since Jensen brought you home from the hospital. It felt good to be out even though the bright sunlight had you squinting. Jensen tuned the radio to a country station while he maneuvered through the downtown traffic. You tried to analyze the street signs and buildings that passed, hoping for something familiar. Something to jog your memory. Hell, you’d take anything at this point! The longer the amnesia persisted, the more adrift you felt.

“You look a little blue over there,” Jensen said, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts.

“I’m okay.”

“Come on, Y/N. Tell me,” he prompted, pulling up to a stop light. “I can’t make it better if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s not your job to make it better.” Annoyance edged into your voice. It wasn’t his fault, but you were tired of keeping up a positive front. It was almost as exhausting as the injuries themselves. You were grumpy and angry and scared.

A few minutes of silence stretched out between the two of you. “It’s this car, isn’t it?” he blurted out. “You hate it.”

“What?!”

“I know you were probably expecting a big muscle car like the Impala or a pick-up truck or something. Not every Texan drives a gas guzzler, you know!” He gave a Dean worthy huff, “Some of us care about the environment, contrary to the stereotype.”

You knew he was trying to charm a smile out of you, but you refused. Instead, you doubled down on the stubborn. “Ride a horse. Conform to one stereotype while you contradict another.”

“Oh honey, I’m a natural born cowboy. How else do you think I got these bowed legs?” He exaggerated his Texas drawl and winked at you.

This time his antics succeeded, you smiled in spite of yourself. Shaking your head, you looked away, “Shut up.”

“Oh! Hang on, it’s your jam!”

You groaned as you recognized the cheesy country song. “No way, no. This is not my jam!”

Jensen laughed and turned up the volume, “I seem to remember you singing this in the kitchen yesterday.”

“That was you!”

“Loudly!” he added, grinning as he sang along. Egging you on from the driver’s seat.

Your sour mood dissolved, powerless against the relentless good nature of Jensen Ackles. You rolled your eyes dramatically and sang along with him. It was a ridiculously cheery song, and you kind of loved it. God knows why. Probably because Jensen made it so much fun. He was a complete dork, and an absolute goofball. He was happy to make a fool of himself so long as it made you laugh.

The doctor’s checkup went well. He seemed pleased with your progress and officially released you from his care. Naturally, he had no advice on recovering your memory.

“You are only one week out from a serious head injury. The human body is remarkable in it’s ability to heal, but it does take time.”

“Shouldn’t I have something by now? Maybe not my SAT scores, but… something?”

“Y/N, there is a lot we don’t know about how the mind works. You may get it back little by little, or all at once, or…. Perhaps not at all. Please, try not to focus on it. I know it’s difficult, but the less stress you put on yourself, the better off you are.”

After the hospital, Jensen drove you out to Lake Cultus. Convinced that a nice drive in the country would do you both good. Plus, you could check in the ranger service to see if anyone reported you missing.

It was a little like being in an episode of Supernatural. The two of you questioned everyone from the park rangers to the shuttle drivers asking if you looked familiar. Check to see if any vehicles had been abandoned or left in long term parking. See if you’d rented a locker or purchased a kayaking pass. Rummage through lost and found for anything that you may have left behind that day.

The only lead you got was from the clerk at the conservation center who said you stopped in for a trail map. But as they were free, you had no need to use a debit card. It was like you dropped out of the clear blue sky!

God, where were the Winchesters when you needed them?!

By the time the two of you returned to the apartment, it was well past seven at night. You were exhausted and your head ached. All you wanted to do was curl up under the covers and cry. Jensen, as always, was determined to take care of you and insisted on dinner. He reheated the spaghetti and meatballs from the previous night. Effortless in his movements, chatting away about his mom’s recipe for apple crisp that he was certain you would love.

“Let’s give it a shot tomorrow,” he took a swig from a long-neck beer bottle. “I think I’ve got all the stuff for it. My brother and I usually have it cold for breakfast when we’re home for Thanksgiving.”

You were sitting at the breakfast bar, letting your tired mind wander while he was talking. That one word stuck out to you. Thanksgiving. It resonated. You knew what it was, of course. It was the details of your life that were lost, not basic information about life such as holidays or how to tell time. But Thanksgiving, that did something to you. Not a memory, but more of a feeling. Warm, happy, secure, loved.

Family, you realized. Thanksgiving felt like family. Your family.

It was so close, just under the surface of your mind. You could almost smell it, almost taste it. It was right there!! You tried to trace that feeling, follow it to its source. The closer you got the more it slipped away. Like grains of sand slipping through your fingertips.

“Y/N?”

Suddenly aware that Jensen had been talking to you. You blinked and looked up, “Sorry, what?”

He studied you for a moment, concern crossing his face. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He held your gaze for a few seconds then nodded. “Okay. Well, let’s eat.”

He picked up your plate along with his and headed towards the living room. The two of you usually ate in there. Jensen insisted it was more comfortable for your ribs, but you suspected it was more because he was addicted to the Great British Baking Show you’d been binging.

“Hey, would you grab my beer on your way?”

Thinking about your forgotten Thanksgiving would have to wait. You stood with a sigh, and everything went a bit gray around the edges. Fuck!

“Y/N?”

When you didn’t reply, Jensen looked up and saw you begin to sway. He always had been quick, even as a kid, a useful skill. He was up and at your side just as your knees gave.

“Whoa! Easy, easy, I’ve got ya,” he picked you up and carried you through to the living room. You groaned softly when he deposited you on the couch. He ran a worried hand over your forehead as he knelt in front of you.

Your face was chalk white and you were breathing through your nose like you were trying not to get sick. He knew you weren’t feeling well, you’d been off all day. You’d been unusually short tempered and cranky. Going to the lake had obviously been a mistake. It turned into a much longer trip than he had originally planned. It had been too much all at once.

This was his fault, damn it. He felt like kicking himself.

“Talk to me, Sweetheart. Are you with me?”

The pain radiating through your skull was intense. An instant migraine, it knocked you to your knees as soon as you stood up. Just the thought of opening your eyes caused your stomach to clench so you kept them firmly closed.

You brought a shaky hand to your head, “This has got to be the worst headache I’ve ever had. Not that I can remember any that I’ve had before. I keep trying though. Something feels familiar and I chase it, try to trace the thought pattern to a memory and it all falls apart.”

“You shouldn’t try to force yourself to remember,” Jensen gently advised, keeping his voice low. “The doc said to rest, that means your mind too. I can’t have you keeling over on me.”

You were so frustrated she couldn’t help the tears that gathered in your eyes. “What if I never remember?”

“You will. It will all come back to you, you’ve just got to give yourself some time.” He wiped away the tears that spilled over your lashes and down your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t cry, pretty girl. It’ll get better, I promise.”

You shook your head woefully, “What if I’m not remembering because I don’t want to. Because I’m some awful, horrible person with a sad life.”

“Not possible.”

“You don’t know that, I could be. What if I’m an asshole?”

“Y/N…”

“What if I’m a vegan?!”

Jensen laughed then, and you broke into a smile and laughed with him. Sniffling back the remaining sadness, “It’s just… I know nothing about myself. It feels like I’m not a whole person.”

“Hmm.” He gazed at you thoughtfully for a moment then moved to sit beside you on the sofa. He got comfortable then opened his arms to you, “Come on, bring it in.”

You leaned into him, tucking yourself against his side, your head came to rest on his chest. He wrapped his muscled arm around your shoulders and took a deep breath.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed. When he felt you relax slightly, he brought his hand up to cup the base of your skull and gently massaged.

His wide fingers were warm against your scalp as they moved in small circles. God it was heaven! Tension held in the muscles of your neck melted slowly away as he followed the slender line of your neck to your shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re an actor? I think you should do this for a living.”

You could feel the chuckle deep in his chest rumble against your ear. He continued working out the knots he found, pleased when you grew heavier against him. “My mom gets migraines but she’s allergic to most of the stuff they prescribe for it. This was the only thing that seemed to help her.”

“You’re a good kid,” you slurred slightly. Jensen was nice and warm. He always was. Just being held helped you relax. You began to realize how tight everything felt, no wonder you stressed yourself into a migraine.

“Yeah, well if you ever meet my mom, ask her about the time I snuck out of the house and crashed her car.” He smiled against your hair, “Her brand new, anniversary present, just delivered from the dealership, convertible.”

“Why’d you steal it?”

“Borrow. I borrowed it.”

“Mmm Hmm.”

“I was trying to impress a girl.” He admitted with a sigh.

“Bad boy. Did it work?”

“I got my first kiss. Then I got grounded for two months and had to clean the gutters.” He shook his head at his youthful folly. “Worth it though.”

“Wait, first kiss? How old were you?”

“Eleven.”

You choked out a laugh, “Eleven?! How’d you even reach the pedals?”

He shrugged, “I hit a growth spurt.”

“I’ll bet you did,” you murmured, cuddling closer.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said after a beat, “You’re not a horrible person or less than a person because you can’t remember. I know exactly what kind of person you are, even without a last name.”

“Jay…”

“You’re funny and smart. You are a terrible cook. You like your tea hot and your coffee iced, which you still aren’t supposed to have, by the way. You have a tender heart. You have to change the channel any time that Sarah McLachlan-save-the-dogs commercial comes on.”

You huffed in agreement. “That is the saddest commercial ever broadcast. They need to put out a trigger warning before they show that thing.”

“You’ve got a pretty voice and you naturally harmonize, not easy for most people.” He rubbed his hand slowly up and down your back, “And you’ve got the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”

You didn’t say anything. He made you sound lovely, beautiful. He saw past the bruises and mood swings and found something worthwhile. Someone worth knowing.

“There’s more and I bet we can find it easier than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a game, a getting to know you game,” he explained. “I’ve done it a few times at roundtables for Supernatural. It’s called This or That.”

“A game?”

“Yeah! It’s no thinking, just instinct. Say the first thing that comes to mind. Like… chocolate or vanilla?”

“Chocolate or vanilla what?”

“No, like which do you like better? Chocolate or vanilla?” He clarified.

“That would depend on the method of delivery,” you countered. “If it’s cake, chocolate. If it’s coffee, vanilla.”

“Ice cream.”

“Oh, then neither. Lemon.”

“Lemon?!” He repeated, incredulous. “Ice cream?”

“Palate cleanser. I don’t really like ice cream.”

“Wow. Okay, fine. Hot dogs or burgers?”

“Burgers.”

“Good answer. Baths or showers?”

“Bath. No, wait… both. Can I have both?” you asked, pulling back to look at his face.

The slow smile he gave you made you feel warm all over. “You can have whatever you want.”

That warmth rose to your cheeks. Feeling shy, you tucked your head against his chest again.

Jensen began rubbing your neck again, making sure that you stayed relaxed. It was almost a hypnosis, a way to keep your stress at bay so you could answer without having to think. “Summer or winter?”

“Neither.”

“Fall then, that seems to be everyone’s favorite.”

“Sort of.” You closed your eyes focused on the fingers massaging your scalp. “There is this two-week period in October when the aspen trees in Colorado turn colors. It’s also when the first snow fall comes over the mountains. If you are lucky enough to be there at the right time, you can literally see the change of seasons.”

“That beautiful.” He knew you could do it. You’d done it before, actually and probably never even noticed. Every once in a while, you’d rattle off a trivia fact. A statistic. Something that most people wouldn’t know. It was as if your subconscious mind was trying to send out hints. Clues that would lead you back to yourself. It fascinated him. You fascinated him.

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs. I’m allergic to cats.” You uttered the words before you had the thought, and then it all clicked. It was just a flash, the briefest of pictures in your mind. You were young, maybe six or seven. Your arms and legs covered with hives while you played with a fat, orange tabby cat. An adult voice scolded you.

Y/N! Baby, you know you’re allergic to cats…

You sat up then, the blue eyes Jensen liked so much, wide and shimmering. “Oh my God… I’m allergic to cats!”

Jensen grinned along with you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “See, you’re still in there. You just have to give yourself a chance.”

“Thank you, Jay.” You said, taking hold of his hand and lacing your fingers through his.

“Anytime, Sweetheart,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Anytime.”

[reddrakebird]

Hearing what felt like possessiveness over the gift might have startled another but for Timothy, it was a part of their bond. Perhaps too many things have come between them throughout the years, or maybe they realize now what has been staring them in the face this whole time and are angry about all the time lost. Timothy could not explain most of the emotions the man in his lap encouraged, but he wanted to be fair. Timothy took a risk by saying what he wanted, the detail could have scared Kon from it or the Kryptonian getting pissed about being ‘owned.’ 

He did not remember the one snag that they would always be two very different people in the world and the public. That also meant accepting that he was and would always be Superboy here. The thought of doing otherwise never crossed Timothy’s mind when he wore a mask and beat up criminals in the dead of night. They had seen too much to go back now, but having each other completed something Timothy knew was missing for a long time. 

Lips were eagerly waiting for attention from their lover, wanting to be praised by them for his good deed with that slight affection that meant the world to Timothy. One Kon-El suggested they might need to tone down in public. Timothy disliked that. Lips parted from the warmth of Kon’s and he continued to listen patiently as hips started to roll softly, wanting Kon to feel him physically while having him mentally. That moan nearly caused his own; a soft gasp was given in greeting instead.  “We are on the same page regarding fights or breaking up. I like knowing you have it because even if we don’t work out, I want you to be happy Kon. I want to know you exist long after I no longer do.” And a small piece of his possessiveness will latch on to knowing Kon put it somewhere safe, maybe at his home in Hawaii where Timothy would become another memory. 

Hands cupped his cheeks, making sure those eyes looked up into Kon’s without shades, without the facade of his overzealous personality. “I knew you would like it; I did not expect how strongly you would protect it. I promise I don’t want to take this away from you. It is yours. I. Am. Yours.” he made sure each point was defined to draw attention to how serious this was for him. “I love you. Those words are not ‘sweet nothing for me’. I’m maddening in love with you, the kind where I don’t see an end, only a built future.” Hands lowered to grab the necklace from the box. The back was twisted to separate so he could place it on Kon. Hips thrust up once to hear a little sound from Kon before moving his hands around that beautiful neck. The clasp was connected and twisted to seal away where it disconnected as if it did not exist. “Later, I can grab a mirror and you can use your laser eyes to meld it so it can’t be removed except from you.” He offered. Fingers found the leather clasp of the ‘play’ necklace to undo its buckle, sliding it away so the new piece remained. The collar was then turned and placed around his own longer neck, buckled up snuggly. “I trust you more than you will ever know because my life sometimes doesn't mean shit. But my soul and heart intertwine with yours now; I don’t want ‘out.’ ” He reached for one of Kon’s hands, moving it towards the collar to hook a finger into that small O ring. 

Hands now free, they went to Kon’s hips, grabbing humanly hard to make him move faster. A whimper escaped Timothy’s lips at his own sensitivity and how damn good it felt to be in Kon with slick, semen-coated walls trying to pump more from him in greed. 

He did not get to talk about the first part because his body was amping up again, with Kon in control of the collar. Later, they could circle back around to that and finish their questions. Right now, he wanted to vanish in Kon’s body, slow at first, then the tempo picked up. “Conner…” he whimpered the name. His senses were all over, but all of them was on fire due to Kon-El.  “A little tighter, baby. Make it hurt just enough for me to remember.” he breathed out, obsessed with this angle and view of Kon. "Go faster, go harder. Use me. I want you to."

Timothy asked a valid question, one Kon hadn't thought about. "No. Once this goes on, it stays on." Kon answered, not liking the thought of removing it at all. "I'm always Superboy, Tim. If I hear trouble, it doesn't matter if I'm wearing my suit or not. I'm not just gonna not fly to help someone because I'm wearing something casual. So we'll either just have to tone it down with the PDA's when we're together and you're 'Tim', or I'll mask us the best I can." Kon leaned in to press their lips together again. It wasn't really an obstacle they'd faced in their relationship so far, but as they continued it - they'd have faced it eventually with or without a collar. Kon understood completely why Tim needed a civilian identity, but he didn't. Never had and wasn't particularly interested in having one like Jon or Clark. Being a superhero was his job. It's what he was made for. When he pulled back, Kon continued - letting out a soft moan as Tim moved his hips, eagerly rolling them with him. "If I'm upset with you, I still want to wear it. It'll help ground me. And I think it'll help you - because you'll know we're not through, even if we're having a rough patch. If we ever break up, I'd still like to keep it - though I wouldn't still wear it. You know. As something to remember you by." Kon began riding him again slowly, appreciatively, reassuringly, his hands slipping around and cupping Tim's cheeks, thumbs rubbing soft circles as he admired his boyfriend's thoughtfulness. "This is huge for me." He finally mumbled, letting down that cocky facade for another second. "Thank you, Timothy." Kon smiled.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Genshin Boys would be Horrible as Disney Princes

Headcanon and Reader Perspective, Drabble

Sojourner Special (Followers Event)

Despite being the gentleman and sweethearts that they are, in the wrong hands, of badly aligned context and universal rules these boys can barely function as princes given their own ideals.

Diluc in Cinderella

Shortest one, oops.

Our Diluc would honestly be too busy for balls if we're doing this canonically, night time of all times. He's not your prince tonight, he's off somewhere doing Knight stuff...

If by chance you did catch him in the ball and he did indulge you with your dance until you escapaded at midnight, he's not gonna question it.

And since he didn't even REMEMBER your face, the next day just goes on as usual. No decree for searching the whole land for your foot or anything, it's just a normal day after a party.

"They left without a word, no name or promise, who am I to say no when they clearly don't want to stay?"

He's a gentleman. Too gentlemanly...

Childe in Sleeping Beauty

In this scenario, Childe embraces his knight-ness more than the princely aspect. I mean sure, he danced with you in the forest all so lovingly, sang along to your pretty lil voice. But when the prophecy came, his focus changed—

To the thrill of fighting a big ass green fire breathing dragon! Big woah, Childe had soooo much fun fighting it that he didn't even cheese it.

He lived for every hour of the fight and made it as slow as possible. Taunting, playing with his PREY- mid-fight the dragon would realize just how strong and horrifying Prince Childe is, but the entertainment had started, and the dance won't end until Childe wills it.

When he DID finally slay the damned thing, he'll come up to your quarters and stare at your sleeping body, and then think "Hey, if them being put under this spell gave me the fight of the century? What if ANOTHER dragon comes? That would be amazing!" No waking up for you, or the whole city for that matter.

Albedo in Frog Princess

You... You don't even get the chance to be the frog princess in here... simply because he himself REFUSES to change back to normal. You have never met a man so intelligent, much more a frog.

"I know of which you are not, I won't be fooled by cardboard crowns and secondhand dresses," you choke as he berates every fiber of your being, "It matters not, I still have much to learn about the life of an amphibian."

He disappears after that and you've never heard from him ever again, although at the back of your mind you're pretty sure he's a live and well, that bastard is too smart to end up as roadkill.

And well, you're right, he's out there in the world of frogs doing frog things. Triumphant over frog science and the other talking creatures he may meet.

He'll also find a way to revert himself back to normal, either making his own cure or just enlisting the help of a princess to bargain.

He might come to you upon the logic of marriage counting you as princess, but don't get too hyped, you won't be treated as his wife. He'd be too busy putting his frog research into paper...

Zhongli in Beauty and the Beast

A beast he may be, he's still dignified and elegant, upholding his end of the bargain so long as the other does the same.

Your father may have trespassed and have taken some flowers in his domain but well, really it's such a petty crime that can easily be solvable. And even if there needs to be punishment incured...

When you stumble to the mansion in search of your father, ready to take his place from his jail cell, you find him and the beast (ohh half-dragon Zhongles) by an elegant table drinking cups of tea with light conversation. Huh?

"There is no need to fret, your father and I are just discussing the terms of our contract. He spoke of his woodworks that I wish to commission in exchange, such good potential should not be wasted."

You can also, well, pay off things within contract? But either way, it would be hella awakward, he won't impose on your life and most certainly not about the curse when you had so much to live for.

Kaeya in Rapunzel

Little bitch, thru and thru. If Eugene is such a criminal, he's taking it TENFOLD.

He's not even gonna be the slightest bit trustworthy for you, little Rapunzel, because he raises so many red flags your frying pan wouldn't even be enough to threaten him. He probably has a really thick skull, and your resolve won't be able to smack that pretty face.

Bargaining won't work, he'd sleight of hand his way out and get the crown knowing you'd hid it in the pot immediately, and then just backflip outta there.

If you manage to get him to get you out, he's not gonna be of help either. Kaeya would be amused with toying with you, leaving you in the dark as you get scared shitless/dance around with some tavern criminals. Otherwise, ehh...

One way or another, he's gonna find a way to get you off his case. Either forcing you to travel with companions that's headed to the city anyways or forcefully knocking you out and heaving you back to your tower.

"You have a mother that never ages lock you up in this tower? Nu uh, sweetie, I'm not dealing with the dark forces of witchery when I'm already well off with the crown."

He got the crown.

Venti in Snow White

I'm sorry what? Free apples? Eternal sleep in a beautiful bed? He's gonna be glad to just take your place. (Spoilers, he would)

He'd be most definitely entertained with your dwarves, playing his tunes. You life would be filled with his lyre as he plays around, not even caring about the other implications of yours or his status in this woodland forest.

You ran away from home? Cool, freedom, man. Wish he could the same without jeopardizing the kingdom and his family. He'd probably take the apple too just for you~

During your rest, he'll come up with the most eloquent song to play for your seven dwarves as he watches your fate sadly. How peaceful you looked, away from the world and from the grips of death.

The dwarves would force him to please try and break the spell, and he'll shrug and indulge- except it didn't break the spell, as he expected it to be. And they are clueless on who else you had encountered in your life to even spare a true love's kiss.

"How saddening, the princess lays. Maddening to those around as they'd say, if only my kiss was enough for the curse to sway." You died, ouch.

Xiao in Mulan

Brutal. Brutal. Brutal. His voicelines would come in sooooo handy here, oh my goodness.

If you miraculously bypassed his analytical gaze enough to hide your sexuality, you're going to die in his training program. He's not gonna go easy on you, not when the fate of the nation lies upon your capability to keep up. You're gonna go through far worse than what true Mulan went through, and you may or may not just die in the process.

If by chance you survived, this would warrant enough respect to not kill you (oh, you lived) but you better not show up again.

He's never gonna be delighted to see your traitorous face again, he can save China on his own, thank you very much. And you know he can. Try and approach him, and a sword would be at your neck once again.

"Foolish gremlin, you think you had the right to present yourself after the treason you willfully committed? We won't crumble at the loss of one person, your job here is done." How sad.

Cyno in Little Mermaid

First of all, wack, mermaids exist! Sadly, that's nothing new for him. He knows a lot with that intelligent mind of his, so it would be no surprise that the existence of such mythical creatures doesn't make him bat an eyelash. He's been living near water, he's not that stupid.

With that in mind, your presence in your first meeting is going to be bad. Very bad. Cyno knows about sirens and he's not at all gonna fall for it, and if by chance he had known you before the ship was wrecked, he's probably gonna be veryyy keen in capturing you instead.

So if by chance you're stupid enough to interact with him and DESIRE to be on land with him, you're gonna deal with a lot of problems.

You're not getting that kiss easily. No, it's a huge challenge. He'd be repulsed in your naivety and will most likely be more concerned on your voice than ever. He'd be so kind to try and give a shot in helping with the cure but it's not the cure you needed.

He'll drown himself in every literature in full concentration just to see if there's any text he can find about curses and muteness. His curiousity would get the best of him, and you'll barely see him after you managed to explain your predicament without the need for words. Octopus woman doesn't even need to show up to intervene.

"A kiss? Surely not, such ailment won't be cured by fairytale methods." And then he goes back to his library once again. And you will be seafoam the next sunrise. Or was it sunset?

"So now that we've established these grounds," Exiled turns to the other two in the area, "Maybe, these boys would be better off as princesses."

And so the trio concocts a new type of fairytale, collaborated to masterpieces soon after.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @struggljng @ellitx @kookieyachi @dandelion-dreams

[i-ship-therefore-i-am]

the first bit of the kissing fic I’ve been working on for ages: (read it on AO3 here.)

Wei Wuxian’s attention has chased Lan Wangji since the first day they met—relentless, unforgiving, his eyes always looking. One day Lan Wangji can’t help but look back.

Or: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji share a moment of honesty during their time in Xuanwu cave, and how everything afterward changes (and doesn’t).

break upon your shore

“Cloud Recesses has been burned.”

Lan Wangji has finally done it, said aloud the words he has been holding back in the face of Wei Ying’s endless pestering. Days spent ignoring the litany of Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. Days of deflecting demanding questions about what happened. Days of concern and care he doesn’t need. Shouldn’t need.

My leg is fine.

I am fine.

Everything is fine.

Leave me alone.

(Don’t.)

(Don’t go.)

(Don’t leave me alone.)

As Lan Wangji finally gives in, speaks the fate of the Cloud Recesses, he remembers why it was so important to resist in the first place. The moment the words are through his lips, said to Wei Ying of all people, everything threatens to crumble, a great reverberating fault line widening in his chest.

He switches from irritation and anger to sadness so quickly that he feels unmoored, like the flames of the fire in front of them in the dark cave—dancing wildly, ready to consume and destroy from within.

It is not as if Wei Ying didn’t already know about the Cloud Recesses, as if Wen Chao had not crowed about it as he dragged Wei Ying off to a dungeon that spit him back out covered in blood and a fatigue that no smile could completely cover. Though Wei Ying tried, of course. He always did.

So flippant and unregulated. So aggravatingly frivolous about everything, not only others’ hearts, but his own safety.

“Are your people safe?” Wei Ying asks now, voice soft and delicate as if he can tell Lan Wangji is reeling even as he keeps himself still. So very still. “Your uncle? Your brother?”

Lan Wangji does not allow himself to look away from the flames, to move so much as a muscle in reaction. Does not look at the face he knows will be earnest and beautiful, not when he is stuck as he is in this cave where there is nowhere to hide from it. “My uncle was badly wounded. My brother is missing.”

These are the facts. Cold. Hard. Unchangeable.

“Zewu-Jun is missing?” Wei Ying asks, tone voicing the pain in his own heart. His shoulder presses closer against Lan Wangji’s side.

Because Wei Ying is reckless and foolish and irritating and inescapable, and worst of all he is endlessly, violently kind.

Lan Wangji’s eyes flood with wetness.

Shameful. Where is his control? Emotional displays do not change facts. They never have.

He closes his eyes tight, both because he can feel the drag of exhaustion in his bones but also to escape the painful beauty of Wei Ying’s face in the flickering firelight. His teasing smile and laughter that is not Lan Wangji’s and is not meant for him and never will be. So easily spread to many with no true intent. But to escape also the tears he has almost let fall, the way Wei Ying’s provoking laughter has fallen away, leaving something even more maddening. No jokes at his expense, just an understanding that makes it impossible to keep his control perfect and undented the way it must always be. In front of Wei Ying more than anywhere else.

He will not be weak enough to cry. To give something for Wei Ying to make a mockery of. Or perhaps worse, to be seen. Understood. That somehow seems even more treacherous.

Wei Ying continues to speak softly, and Lan Wangji lets the chatter flow over him like a lullaby, like a comfort that it has no right to be. Lets it push away all thoughts of the Cloud Recesses and his brother and embarrassment and yearning. The endless confusing tangle Wei Ying sows in him. How he hates it and longs for it.

He just needs to rest. To reestablish his equilibrium. Then everything will stop tilting to the side, his foundations will solidify.

Only then, unexpectedly, soft cloth settles across his body. Warm hands settle on his shoulders. Ignore it, he orders himself. Sleep. Escape.

Against his will, his eyes flutter open. So undisciplined, so out of control.

Wei Ying is leaning over him, so, so near as he settles his outer robe over Lan Wangji, a soft look of something like fondness in his expression.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says, face close enough that Lan Wangji can see the faint blush rise on his cheeks. So close that his breath stirs the air against his face, soothing and provoking all at once. Just as Wei Ying himself has always been.

Wei Ying’s thumbs rub absently across the curve of Lan Wangji’s shoulders, giving him a sheepish smile. “I thought you were asleep.”

Maybe he is asleep. Maybe this is a dream. Maybe he is just broken and tired and unable to resist. The fleeting, thoughtless caress of Wei Ying’s hands against his shoulders spilling everything over. Because somehow Lan Wangji forgets that this means nothing. Means nothing to Wei Ying. Only thinks how much he wants it to mean something.

His hand lifts, fingers touching softly against the warmth of Wei Ying’s cheek, chasing the burn of color there, like seeking proof. When his choice is between doing this and crying, this feels only marginally safer.

“Uh, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying says, not moving, but eyes widening. “Is there something on my—”

He stops talking as Lan Wangji’s thumb presses into the corner of that devastating, infuriating, teasing grin.

Lan Wangji briefly wonders if this is what being drunk feels like. If this is why it is forbidden, if such a state makes people just do as they please without fear of consequence. If it makes bodies incapable of being still and doing nothing which is the choice he should have made. Usually makes.  

Wei Ying has not pulled away, just blinks back at Lan Wangji for long moments before swaying even closer. His mouth opens on a gentle exhalation and Lan Wangji curls his fingers into the soft skin of Wei Ying’s neck just behind the sharp jut of his jaw. Presses in.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, wonderingly, his voice sliding down Lan Wangji’s spine, flaring heat low in his belly.

“Wei Ying,” he says, their same endless call and response. His voice sounds wrong though. He’s giving too much away, is too ragged to hide it. Too worn to brace for the inevitable pain and embarrassment that will follow, this thing he has fought against for so long. To lose Wei Ying at last to hatred and disgust.

Maybe Lan Wangji really is nothing without his ribbon lashing him together.

It’s a horrible, shameful thought, but he has no time to linger on it because Wei Ying’s face is dipping even closer, his lips brushing against his.

It’s almost a question, the gentle not-quite-there touch, Wei Ying’s eyes still open as he watches Lan Wangji’s face, nose softly bumping against his cheek. Nudging. Testing his boundaries. As always.

It takes everything in Lan Wangji not to surge into the touch, to not just take what he has wanted for so long even as he fought against it. He is still half-braced for the laughter, for the punch line, for Wei Ying to dance back out of reach the second he tries. Did you honestly think I could want you? Want a pillar of ice?

He does not want to believe Wei Ying could ever be that cruel. Even unknowingly.

“Do not joke,” Lan Wangji somehow manages to say, wanting to sound harsh and unbending, wanting to shove and retreat, but knowing instead how broken and pleading his words are. Wanting. His hand is not pushing away, but curling tight into the silken strands of Wei Ying’s hair.

Wei Ying studies his face, something painfully sincere there. “I won’t. I wouldn’t.”

But rather than pulling back, than ending this horrible torment that Lan Wangji only has himself to blame for, Wei Ying presses closer, lips firm and warm against his.

Lan Wangji’s entire body threatens to shudder under the sensation, emotions rioting and fighting to escape his control. He sucks in a breath through his nose and closes his eyes in a panicked attempt to find equilibrium. It has the effect of focusing all his senses down on the feel of Wei Ying’s lips, the heat of his nearness, the relentless thud of his own heart. None of this centers him. Not when the simple press of dry lips is already almost too much. No where near enough.

He has to stop himself from starting at the sensation of fingers against his cheek, Wei Ying moving closer, pressure increasing. Lan Wangji’s lips give way to him as a soft round sound tries to break free of his throat.

He lets Wei Ying kiss him like this, remaining still and open under him, heat insidiously blooming in his chest, yet too afraid to give anything back, that the moment he tries to reach for more it will be snatched away. (But, how much he also wants, wants, wants.) He can’t resist the cautious flick of his tongue against Wei Ying’s lower lip where it presses between his, wanting to taste him. Wei Ying jerks, only to meet him immediately, mouth open and eager, welcoming, somehow seeming to know what it is Lan Wangji wants when he barely knows himself.

Wei Ying presses even closer, a whiney sound at the back of his throat that seems to reverberate in Lan Wangji’s own flesh like an echo or answering note. Deep. Abiding. Unescapable. He is drowning. He is coming up for a first true gasp of air.

Everything retreats unexpectedly as Wei Ying jostles Lan Wangji’s leg—sharp, unforgiving pain shooting through his entire body, enough to cut through the heavy haze of desire.

Lan Wangji hisses, feeling sweat break out on his brow, black spots in his vision. He is reeling and lost, bouncing between opposing sensations.

Wei Ying pulls out of reach. “I’m so sorry! I can’t believe—I wasn’t thinking. Is your leg okay? Of course, it’s not okay. Let me see. Did I ruin it? Does it hurt a lot?” His hand lands on Lan Wangji’s thigh as he twists to look at it, but Lan Wangji couldn’t care less about his leg in the moment. He should. That would be the proper thing.

None of this is proper.

The pain recedes as he concentrates on the wanton heat of Wei Ying’s palm on his thigh, the flush of Wei Ying’s face, his lips shiny and full and well-kissed. By Lan Wangji. That was done by him. The satisfaction unfurling in his chest is a solid, dangerous thing.

Wei Ying still babbles and apologizes, the words echoing and building against the stone walls. Lan Wangji briefly shuts his eyes against it, centering himself, even as he wants to know what, exactly, Wei Ying is apologizing for. But also afraid to know.

Do not be of two minds, he thinks automatically, and tries to let it calm him, contain him. But it is hollow, as he has always been of two minds when it comes to Wei Ying.

“Are you sorry?” he finds himself asking.

Wei Ying looks at him, eyes wide. “Of course, I am! Your leg—”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “Not my leg.”

Wei Ying stills, and only because they are still so close, because Lan Wangji is staring at him so brazenly, unable to look away, does he see the moment of raw feeling—something like worry and pain, and more vulnerable than he would ever think to see from Wei Ying—before his expression slips carefree and teasing again.

His body is all fluttering movement in an instant, and Lan Wangji considers that can be as much a cover as stillness. It’s a startling thought, one he files away carefully to think on more when he has the chance.

Wei Ying rubs at the back of his head, smiling widely. “Oh, uh. Yes. I can apologize for that too if you like. I thought…but I probably thought wrong! And now I’ve horribly offended you. Yet again. So maybe you can just please forget I did that and we can pretend, even though, honestly, I think I’d much rather do that again, every day if you would let me, and, boy, is that something I was not expecting, but I know that you barely tolerate me and I’d rather you didn’t hate me, so we can just chalk it up to—”

Lan Wangji grabs Wei Ying’s shoulder and cuts him off by dragging his mouth back to his. Like he’s possessed, wild. And maybe he is because this time he does not sit passive under Wei Ying’s kisses, finally giving way to what he wants, mouth taking and demanding because Lan Wangji is always listening carefully when Wei Ying speaks and Wei Ying said he wants to do this again. Every day if he would let him.

Wei Ying makes the most ridiculously wanton sound against his mouth and Lan Wangji wants to swallow it down and let it live inside of him forever.

Wei Ying slides his hands into Lan Wangji’s hair, fingers pressing into the curve of his skull, each pad of his finger a bright spot of energy shooting straight down his spine. Lan Wangji lets out a gasp, pulling his mouth away just long enough to suck in a deep breath and Wei Ying immediately protests, shuffling forward on his knees, nearly falling over in his eagerness.

Lan Wangji presses his hand to the flat of Wei Ying’s back to steady him. He guides him closer out of range of his leg that no longer hurts in the slightest and maybe that should be worrying but the thought flitters away, because Wei Ying is closer now, at last, knee pressing up against the outside of his thigh right before he crushes his mouth back to Lan Wangji’s.  

Everything is heat and pressure and the slide of Wei Ying’s tongue against his, Lan Wangji feeling as if he’s swallowed an entire wildfire, not the steady power and warmth of his core, but something writhing and sparking.

With Wei Ying nearly in his lap now, there is no part of him that is not easily within reach, and Lan Wangji’s hands are greedy, like this might be something snatched away at any moment. He methodically discovers the planes of his sides, his back. Wei Ying’s sinfully red robe is so thin under Lan Wangji’s palm, hiding none of the heat or shifting muscles of his back as he reaches and writhes and never stops moving because he is Wei Ying, even while doing this, so much Wei Ying. Lan Wangji wants his mouth on every inch of Wei Ying’s body with an intensity that winds him. He can no longer feel shame for it. Just wants, sharp and liquid.

He is dizzy with the continued assault of Wei Ying’s mouth and lips and tongue and it is somehow too much and not enough, too far and not close enough.

Lan Wangji twists his hand in the front of Wei Ying’s robe, needing him closer, needing him to still, just needing something to hold onto and Wei Ying lets out a sharp yelp of pain. Lan Wangji jerks back, releasing his grip, Wei Ying’s mouth pulling free from his with a wet sound that is going to haunt him forever.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Wei Ying says between bouts of shaky laughter. “We have perhaps not chosen the best moment for this.”

“I apologize,” Lan Wangji says, horrified to have so thoughtlessly caused him pain.

Wei Ying shakes his head, pressing a hand to the still-seeping brand on his chest. “No, no. A little pain is worth it. Believe me.”

Lan Wangji can’t help but feel the flair of annoyance in his chest, everything inside him writhing and upside down and not in its proper place. “Worth having her remember you always?”

Wei Ying’s eyes widen, another laugh spilling from his lips. “Heavens. I read that so wrong didn’t I? I mean, you werejealous. But not of Mianmian. I can’t believe that. Am I dreaming right now?”

Wei Ying looks delighted, and Lan Wangji has to look away, feeling his ears burn, not sure if being so transparent is mortifying or if he’s simply relieved for Wei Ying to finally see him, if that is better than Wei Ying’s misguided teasing and blindness.

But Wei Ying doesn’t relent long enough for Lan Wangji to clarify his own thoughts. “I actually meant a little pain was worth kissing you, by the way. This entire fucking disaster is worth getting to kiss you. Isn’t that insane to even say? But it’s how I feel right now. Even if you come to your senses the moment we get rescued. Or you actually get some sleep.” There is something bittersweet under his smile, and Lan Wangji realizes he has let himself be far too dazzled by those grins to see what might be hiding underneath. Or maybe too scared to look long enough to be able to notice.

He will set himself to the task of learning better to see it. To know each and every inflection. He’s never looking away again.

“I am always sensible,” Lan Wangji says.

Wei Ying laughs again, patting absently at his shoulder. “Yes, yes. I certainly didn’t mean to offend. No one could speak against Lan-er-gongzi’s levelheadedness.”

Lan Wangji feels Wei Ying is deliberately misunderstanding him for some reason, but he has no shame left, having already broken himself open so effectively, having now felt what it is to have Wei Ying in his arms. Willingly. Enthusiastically. There is no lying to himself. And there is no lying to Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji reaches for the back of Wei Ying’s neck, pulling him near.

Wei Ying’s hands flap a bit in surprise, but he comes willingly, everything in him seeming to go still, almost hanging from his grip, and this is another reaction Lan Wangji wants to learn more about. Some time when he is less exhausted.

Only once Wei Ying’s face is nearly touching his own, their eyes looking directly into each other, does Lan Wangji speak again. “I am always sensible,” he repeats. He has not lost his sense. He has only taken what he has always wanted. What he will always want. There will be no recanting. To think he would is offensive to him.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says, his eyes blown wide. “Oh.”

Lan Wangji hums in agreement, attention caught by the sight of Wei Ying’s lips even as he feels exhaustion tugging relentlessly, his eyes heavy.

“So this isn’t just like, I don’t know, temporary insanity?”

Lan Wangji gives him a flat, unimpressed stare before leaning back against the cave wall behind him. “Long term insanity.” There can be no other way to describe the confliction he has been plagued with for so long.

Wei Ying lets out a startled laugh, and this one feels real and earned by Lan Wangji and it’s the most lovely sound he’s ever heard. “Lan Zhan!” he says, delighted and scandalized.

He feels his eyes sliding shut, his exhaustion a solid thing dragging him down. “Since I first met Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says again, this time soft and a bit thick. “I like you so much.”

Lan Wangji struggles to stay awake, to open his eyes, to think of something to say in response, something right, but he can only squeeze Wei Ying’s arm where he is still holding it. Never wants to let go of.

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan. Go to sleep.” There’s the soft press of what must be Wei Ying’s lips against his forehead, right where his ribbon should be, seductive warmth spreading out through his entire body from the simple touch. “Sleep now.”

“Wei Ying,” he mumbles one last time, and then drifts off.

[rivendellsstuff]

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━━ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | ❝In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he know the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.❞

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2310;

Genre: friends to lovers;

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: Mentions of canon-typical violence. The first chapter is set before the events of the first season. Friends with benefits — so, it'll be eventual smut (like, a lot!)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: English isn't my natives language, so if you spot a misspelled word or anything else, feel free to let me know.

━━━━ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

Some men's whish the glory, others crawl like snakes by power and there is those who live like rats in the system. However, there is a exception — and his names is Levi Ackerman. Emerged from the underground, by dust and blood, forged as a weapon at an early age and steeped in pride, he raised as humanity's strongest soldier. He carries a doctrine, imbedded in his bones: he serves to humanity, the balance and the freedom of mankind. If there is a threat, he is the man who can fight against it, ranging from cruel people to evil titans.

He was born in cruel times and did his best to survive in the Underground. He found a glory he wasn't looking for. Something many wish to through their lives, but which, for him, was irrelevant. They all bleed, they all are stuck on the Walls and share the same ended chapter: the death. The final outcome is not defined by possessions, achievements or privileges in life. The only difference was that could get death any easier and painless. Levi was not a hypocrite: he would rather a peaceful death, lying on his bed, instead of being eaten by a titan.

He rather — and is all what it is. It wasn't like if he had any choice. The Ackerman's family were designed to protect the people and to fight. They were cursed with a power. Some people could say it is a miracle in dark times. Others would argue that mans were corrupted, cruel and too ambitious to deal with that awakened power. Well, Levi knows, that no everyone were worthy to possess such ability — Kenny, that asshole, was one of them.

However, there was kind strange situation. An only exception, an affliction that hung over through the heart and maddened his mind: you.

Desire wasn't a word enough to define how he feels close to you, a fearless female warrior, who destroy each barrier he has built over the years, causing delirium with the thought of you hurt. Levi knew he would have taken a checkmate just by desiring you.

But when it all starts? He couldn't say with sure. Maybe, when he, Farlan and Isabel were recruited by the Survey Corps, and you were the only one who spoke to them without undriveable mock and trial. You, besides Erwin, didn't seem to care where they came from. As deeply loyal as you were to your comrades, you didn't depend on your interactions with them for take a direction — you were content to follow your own passions and desires without input from anyone else.

Maybe it started when he saw you in battle or an a argue with a member of Military Police Regiment. Fear is not in yours's vocabulary when you are on the battlefield or when you are speaking her mind to others.

As their partnership grew, he'd find some similarities between you, but also many differences.

You, just like him, has little patience for any form of prose or riddles when you are communicating with others. You speak bluntly and without pretense, and expects others to do the same, prefers to get to the point and doesn’t seek to romanticize your expectations or intentions. You also are focused on the present issues and what role you can play in protecting the people that you love, what can prevent you from seeing the future results of your present actions and, unlike him, does result in some impulsive and risky — yet brave— actions.

All these little things over the years, made him fall in love with you, and Levi had ways to say it without saying "I love you".

Like that night.

He wasn't hiding his disgust face when handed you a cup full of that steaming, black liquid; the simply smelling coffee could make your stomach turn, but still, he prepares a cup for you every night.

As the second in the command, you have spent several evenings together conducting the next advances of the squadron. So, there you are, sitting next to him, eyes focused on the paper, turning the pen between your fingers and... biting your lower lip.

Occasionally, almost instinctively Levi raises his eyes to you. Being so close of you was it's a unique feeling. The smell of your perfume as stunning, and his throat closes around the words he would like to say. The tension that has been brought in was too dangerous for someone like him.

Fucking woman, fucking lips. Fuck you!

''Is there a problem?'', you inquired making eye contact for the first time that night. He couldn't say if there was perversion when you wet your own lips, but Levi felt his muscles become tense and contracted when you made it.

Levi responded with a faint whimper before observed: ''You shouldn't be drinking so much coffee at this time. You look like shit when don't get sleep''.

Lie. Fucking hell, you're always beautiful, but no way he'd say what he thought.

You rolled your eyes. ''It's you who did'', you put forth.

''I wasn't in the mood to put up with a brat attitude from you.''

''Brat? You know that we have about the same age, don't you?'', your gaze traveled from the figure sat in front of you to the window, confused as to why you would be embarrassed about his presence. You took in a breath before adding: ''Anyway, don't want sleep.''

There was a pause for a few seconds. You and he eyed each other.

''Why?'', he asks, authoritative one.

You shrugged and shook your head firmly. ''It doesn't matter.''

''If it doesn't matter, why would I have asked that?''

"Cause you're snooper”, you smirked.

''I'm not a snooper, brat."

He felt his heart begin to quicken when you carried the pen to your lips and start biting.

"Yes, you are a horrible snooper old man, bossy and with an astonishing mania for cleanliness."

"Old? You know we have about the same age”; he repeats. His eyes drifted back to your face, noticing your gaze had shifted again to the woods beyond the window. "And you're avoiding the question", he softly says (at least as softy as he could be), interrupting your rampant thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Levi watches in silence as you'd shoulders slump.

"I can't sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being evil, although I always thought that one day it'd get better", you're voice was low and flat, quiet and a little sad as you spoke to Levi, who seemed to know what are you exactly referred to and only nodded at your words. "I feel guilty. All the time."

Even in the darkness the room held, your eyes find his greys one like the starlight's.

''Are you afraid of your dreams, too?'', you asked, never expecting the humanity strongest soldier to have any fears.

'Yes'', he said quietly.

You nodded with hesitation, his words repainting in your head as you struggled to forma a sentence to answered.

Levi was used to such sadness, he had month's — no, years — to griever over the deaths of his mother and friends. Death was not uncommon thing in his life. His childhood who should be carefree, playing in the sun, was like a living nightmare, learning to fight in the darkness of Underground. Later, when he left the place to join the Survey Corps, he accepted to live in that never ending tragedy that people had sadly grown used to. Death was more common in that job than anything else, and he knows how badly it fuck with his mind.

“I’m beginning to think we’re a lot alike… you and me. We’re both strange cast, who’ve learned to fight when we’re backed into a corner'', you began weakly.

''Well, we’re backed into a corner now. Two fucking insomniacs”, he shook his head, thinking about your words. He didn't seem to like the way your voice sounded sadder. You raised your eyes to him again as he slowly spoke: ''You're not alone''

You answered a tiny smile onto your lips. Levi felt his cheeks burn and opposite glanced to your empty coffee cup, thinking that he'll able to always tolerate your strange addiction.

A few second later you both went back to work, and Levi was left with words stuck, temptation planted in the mind and a sure thing for him: the insomniac nights would become better by you.

【 ━━ 】

Inside Wall Sheena, guests were arriving, among them five members of the Scout Regiment - consisting mostly of commanders - walked through the gates, exuding self-confidence, bitter to participate in that boring and stupid meeting.

Little lies, little social sacrifices to feed what kept the Scout Regiment going: funding.

It was not necessary to be an expert in politics to see beyond the traditional veil of those events, to perceive the intentions of certain parliamentarians, very sadistic. Knowing it was part of your job to relate to these kinds of people annoyed you.

For one minute, you saw out of the corner of your eyes, the first on your command. The man of grey eyes used a black suit that fits perfectly. Be present in an event with so many politics didn't seem to his liking. Was kind of hard for all of you play nice one with all this tension in the air.

You've never felt the feeling of fear and tension like that inside the Walls before.

''Stop frowning before you break your face''

'It would be so sad, and you would cry for being depriving of that beautiful face''

''Oh, fuck yourself'', he says, angrily.

''If you watch''

You smirched at his expression as he looks up to you, after seeing your face, he turns away.

''Watch your words, brat''

''Or what, old man? What will you do to me?''

He looks back up at you.

''I could break you habit of drinking coffee, put you to clean all the HQ or even to help Hange with the experiments. The three together seems good, by the way''

You roll your eyes.

''You're mean''

'You're annoying'', he replied. ''And you know, if you keep rolling your eyes one day their going to get stuck like that''

''Are you trying to be funny?''

His little grin showed up making you roll eyes into a smile. He was terribly bossy and annoying, but you like that about him.

You took the glass of wine to your lips and raised your eyes to hit his. Levi hovered over you, making you felt that flame into your heart once more. Your eyes tailed down to Levi's lips then back to his eyes. You could feel your heart beating recklessly.

Fucking grey eyes, fucking black suit. Fuck you!

You felt a thumb on your cheeks, making them burn.

''You look...'', he started whispered and slightly caress your cheeks. Your body started to get hot under his soft touch. ''... beautiful. You look beautiful''

You were speechless.

You liked the sudden ardor, of the dangerous attraction, of folly and frivolous with provocative sins. Liked and thought how the taste of his lips would be: the indomitable, the irresistible, the powerful and sin.

He slowly dragged his hand down to my thorax wrapping his hands around it. A soft gasp escaped of your lips.

''You know... If you want dance, it'll not rude to ask'', you try to say. ''The song is awful, but I'm not a demanding partner''

''Only if you don’t step on my foot''

His prepotency make you smile.

''Don’t be a bad partner and there will be no mistakes'', you retorted, making him raised one of the eyebrows. ''That's how a men should behave next to a woman''

He took you in his arms, abruptly, making the bodies collide with intensity. You gasped, very close to Levi's ears, who felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. Leading you through music, in no second was the look averted, in a battle for unknown control.

You and Levi explored a unique experience.

He stares burned deep into your body. His touch on your skin made your body tingle.

Fuck, control yourself. Don't get turned on by him!

He didn't say anything, just left you hold into him. You could feel your body burning around him. What was he doing to you? It felt like a spell. The effect of sin, of desire. You should get rid of that, all you needed least were distractions in the workplace and ruin the friendship, trust and partnership that you two took so long to build.

However, both keep looking to each other longer than friends should. Longer than friends should...

He could saw you lost inside your mind. Slowly, he pulled down his fingers, lazily touching the skin of your exposed back by the dress. Levi's vision was blinded by the desire his image represented. The surroundings smelled wine and fruits, intoxicating his sense. The ears, doomed to hear the political bullshit. His tact could burn by touching you. His taste? It was dangerous, because wanted to discover the taste of your lips and body.

But not now, not here.

You are his friend — the only who was left. In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he knew the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.

To hell all of that. When you both got back, he'll fucked you, every way that he can thinking off. He wants to pound into you, slammed into you and give the best night that you ever have. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.

''Good girl'', he whispers next to your ears. ''But I'll show you how true men should behave next to a woman when we get back''

[chiefdirector]

Review of The Eternals | SPOILERS |

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS BELOW - Go watch this film!!!!

The Main Characters | 10/10

The main characters are obviously, as the title would suggests, the eternals:

- Ikaris: Ikaris is the strongest Eternal, which works well for his character. Which is arrogant, hard-headed and what you would expect from a man who thinks he is unbeatable. But he isn't the full stereotypical character you would expect. He allows himself to show emotion, and even cry in remorse, throughout the film which shows that he is well rounded and, arguably, human-like. His love for Sersi is his biggest strength and his greatest weakness.

- Sersi: Sersi is the newfound leader of the Eternals after Ajax's demise. Gemma Chan plays her beautifully, she is strong, smart, and respectful: all qualities of a great leader. Throughout the film we see her build her powers and strengths to achieve what she thought was impossible and take on challenges that she thought that she could never achieve. Her love for Ikaris isn't one of her defining traits which is refreshing to see in film.

- Ajax: Ajax was once the leader of the Eternals. We only see her character through flashbacks. We don't learn much about her, but he does know that she is trusting to a fault, which leads to Ikaris murdering her, and that she is secretive to her teammates. She was made to be a leader and that is what she excels at.

- Thena: Thena is played by Angelina Jolie, and she plays the role excellently. We see Thena maddened by her own memories by instead of her being tossed aside like so many other characters may have been in other films, we see her taken care of by the Eternals, more specifically Gilgamesh. Even after she is maddened, she is still one fo the strongest fighters, especially after she learns she was never insane but rather held knowledge she was never meant to know.

- Gilgamesh: Gilgamesh is the second of the Eternals to die, and his death is heart-breaking as he dies saving one of the people he loved: Thena. He is kind, warm and loving, stereotypical feminine traits but he isn't those things ironically and they do not take away from the fact that Gilgamesh is an amazing fighter.

- Sprite: Sprite is the youngest Eternal and my personal favourite as we see her burdened by her youngest and eventually set free from her immortality so she can be human and grow old and have a family, something she had always wished for with Ikaris, even if he didn't return those feelings. Sprite is one of the comic-reliefs of the film, along with Kingo, but it isn't a defining trait which makes Sprite, like every other character, very well rounded.

- Makkari: Makkari is the first (and I saw first because Hawkeye, although deaf in the comics, hasn't been comfier deaf in the MCU, much to mine, and many others dismay) deaf character in the MCU and it isn't one of her defining traits. She also a funny, quick witted and kind character. She is the second speedster we have seen in the MCU, yet she is nothing like Pietro Maximoff. She is very defined in her own right.

- Druig:- Druig: Druig is one morally grey Eternals. He has the ability of mind control and uses that it to both help, and hinder, the human race. He is also the love interest of Makkari, although we don't see him explore his feelings beyond anything somewhat romantic (but nothing explicitly mentioned like Sersi and Ikaris), his love for Makkari is, like Ikaris his on of his biggest strengths which I hope to explore in a later film.

- Kingo: Kingo, like Sprite, is one of the comic-reliefs o the film and it is one of his defining traits. I don’t think this is a bad thing as it is part of his character. Kingo isn't comically all the time which shows, like every other Eternal, he is a well-wounded character. He has a moment of doubt of what will happen, but he carries on which shows his strength and his determination.

Overall, these characters work well together, and all have different strengths and weakness. They all have a rapport with each other which resembles one of a family, because that is what they are in their own way: a family. They all have different relationships which each other such as Ikaris and Sersi & Druig and Makkari having a romantic relationship and semi-romantic relationship respectively whilst Ajax has a parental bond with all the Eternals. These relationships between each character is the best thing in the film.

The Plot | 8/10

The Eternals synopsis, according to google.com: The Eternals, a race of immortal beings with superhuman powers who have secretly lived on Earth for thousands of years, reunite to battle the evil Deviants.

The Credit Scenes | 10/10

There are two credit scenes in Eternals:

The first one reveals Harry Styles to be Eros, or Starfox, the brother of Thanos (who as we know killed half the universe). Eros offers the Eternals his help in finding their other Eternals which were taken by Arishem after they betrayed his plan.

The second one shows Dane Whitman (who will become Black Knight) to be looking a sword when a voice speaks to him. This voice was said to be Mahershala Ali by Chloé Zhao who directed the film. Mahershala Ali. is going to be playing Blade in an upcoming MCU film which is said to be released on October 7, 2022.

Overall | 8.75/10

This film defines found family. The rapport between the characters is amazing, and if anything, you should watch the film for the rapport alone.

It’s one of the most beautiful film I’ve seen in a while. The CGI is impeccable and just visually alone it is a good watch.

I would highly recommend that you go see this film as it builds for the future of the MCU

Also that any avid marvel fans to go watch this but anyone else too. It’s excellent and it establishes itself without much needed from the other MCU properties.

This film is great and most certainly worth a watch <3