#finally....writing the divine gays

[bitway-arts]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Cardfight!! Vanguard, Cardfight!! Vanguard Divinez

Relationship: Akina Myodo/Suo Yobitsugi

Characters: Akina Myodo, Suo Yobitsugi

Additional Tags: Post Season 1, Rain, its a little of peace to!! just...good vibes after everything, Calm vibes, soft..., sleepover 2.0

Summary: His world is no longer engulfed in nothing.

Cardfight!! Vanguard Ship Week Day 1 - Rain (and Peace) || @cfvshipweek

[whimsicalcotton]

.

[cyberm4n]

May I request a bit of Lucifer with a plus sized reader who has a breeding kink? 💕

thank you so much for this request anon it has plagued my brain /pos as someone who's midsized and VERY gay i think the plus sized ladies need more love in fanfic. i hope you like it, im not 100% happy with the writing but lmk and ill change it up :)

cw: smut, breeding kink (duh), mentions of daddy kink but it's not rly used, reader is described as plus sized could be midsized ig, cum eating?? it's not like DIRECTLY mentioned but it kinda happens??, reader is overstimulated cause lucifer wants to make her a mommy, not proofread well

other: im on vacation and working through some requests so please know your request has been noted! ill probably come out with some more alastor/reader/lucifer sometime in the next couple of days.

■ for starters, i firmly believe that he's the kind of guy to LOVE chubby girls

■ like he loves how soft you are

■ if you're laying in bed with him you better expect for him to be all over you

■ no matter what you wanna wear he thinks it hot. seeing you confident is his biggest turn on and he loves it when you are feeling your best.

■ put on some low rise jeans and that man is on his knees for you

■ safe to say this man is 100% your number 1 supporter and will hype you up no matter what

■ if you're taller than him, literally no issue. like have you seen the height difference between him and lilith?

■ look he's a guy who knows how to handle anyone of any shape/size/gender

■ he's been around since the beginning of humanity this guy knows how to fuck

■ we all know he's a munch

■ i feel like he'd be the kind of guy to be REALLY into thighs

■ like you'd be laying in bed and he'd start kissing down your body, his hands running over your curves

■ paying special attention to your lower belly before moving to your thighs

■ he likes going down on you but if you at all want to ride his face he's 100% in

■ i feel like if you hadn't asked he'd definitely have suggested it before

■ the kind of guy to like pull you down on his face

■ he wants you to SIT dammit

■ the breeding kink tho.

■ i feel like he'd already have a daddy kink but the breeding kink just adds to it yk

■ he thinks you look absolutely divine when his cum is leaking out of you

■ but on days he's particularly feeling the breeding kink, he 100% shoving his fingers in you after he pulls out.

■ gotta make sure you stay full

■ he can't help it he just loves you so much he wants to see you swollen with his child :(

"darling just one more for me please" he breathes out, sweat dripping down his body as he tries to coax another orgasm out of you.

he had been feeling in a bit of a mood tonight, and when you came into his office with those shorts of yours on he couldn't think about anything other than breeding you.

so here we are, laid out on his desk, and him hovering over you. your legs ache from trembling so hard, and every orgasm makes you practically blind from how long he'd been going at it. his cum leaks out of your hole, he'd been dumping load after load in you, and now he's shaking too.

he's gotta fill you up though, he'd love nothing more than you carrying his love. he feels that pit is his stomach tighten, and he gently rubs your clit. "gonna be such a good mommy," he'd coo, feeling you turn to putty in his arms.

when the time comes and he crashes over his orgasm, spilling deep in you once more, he's careful to stay locked in for a little while, but he's peppering your face with kisses.

"you did such a good job ducky" he murmurs, rubbing soft circles on your hips. until he'd pull back just a little to watch his cum leak out of you again, utterly spent.

when he finally completely pulls out its not long until his fingers make their way in you, "shh baby i know, but i gotta make sure it takes" he'd whisper to you as you squirm away from him.

he tsks a little shortly after, his fingers slowly withdrawing. he plunges thumb into your mouth, "suck" he says firmly, which you do, of course. cleaning off his fingers so good for him.

he pulls his hand back, it returns to your side, and you whine as you feel his fat tip press against your hole again, and he coos down at you, folding your legs up to your knees. "cmon missy, we can go one more time right? you can go again sweetheart" he says as he eases his cock into you again.

safe to say, he's dumping loads of his cum in you until he's shooting blanks.

[blooming-water-roses]

Lines from my Nart ships that made me go “damn, y’all gay asf”

“I considered Madara a gift from the divine” - Hashirama (like damn okay when am I gonna be someone’s gift from the divine? I see u, u poetic Shakespeare ass mf)

“Come on Itachi, this is you and me that we’re talking about. So don’t worry, it’ll be fine” - Shisui (the sweet smile he gives Itachi, good god)

Shisui: *plays with Itachi’s hair*, Itachi, at a later date: *thinks of Shisui and subconsciously plays with hair* (this is so soft oh my god they were in love)

“You were my hero,” Kakashi to Obito (fell to my knees. Obito was his hero?? The person he looked up to, who saved him? On god just like that??)

“It’s okay now, Kakashi. You don’t need to suffer anymore,” - Obito (they were literal enemies here and all Obito wanted to do was offer him comfort, end me now)

“And what of Izuna?” - Tobirama (hear me out: why did he care?? He felt something. Izuna was his perfect match, he knew he crossed a line by actually hurting him fatally, he felt guilt, he was worried)

“So only my wind…can strengthen his fire” - Naruto, about Sasuke (holy fuck this is one of the gayest lines in this entire fucking show be so honest)

“Touch one hair on his body, I dare you,” Hashirama, to his literal brother, protecting Madara (was he gonna hurt Tobirama for Madara? The drama? The suspense??)

Obito: *awakens Sharingan by protecting Kakashi*

Madara: *awakens Sharingan by having to desert Hashirama*

Sasuke: *evolves Sharingan by thinking Naruto literally died*

Itachi: *awakens Mangekyō after witnessing Shisui’s death* (also, there’s something so absolutely personal about the way that Shisui knew his death would give Itachi the Mangekyō? He just knew Itachi deeply loved him? Ow???)

Perfect scores, model shinobi Itachi, having just deserted an ANBU mission to save Shisui from Danzo only because “something didn’t feel right” (oh so you have a sixth sense for Shisui. He’s your soulmate, is what you’re saying)

Itachi recognizing Shisui’s “soul” in Naruto, giving him Shisui’s deadliest weapon and his final piece of him, and smiling(!), happy that Sasuke has him to watch over him (translation: I recognize that you love Sasuke the way Shisui loved me and he made me feel safe so I know you’ll protect Sasuke)

(Addition) this shit:

(Like hello??? Smirking and calling him a fox?? Hashi rly said “damn he’s so deadly it makes me hard”)

There’s probably more but it’s 1am and I feel like this dude writing this so I’ll just post to retain a shred of sanity

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

I hold death’s hand in mine

Summary: The small timeline of Rio and agatha from their first meeting to their discussions on children to the worst heartache either of them could imagine and finally Rio coming back for Agatha after searching for a long time, they still need each other, even if the other doesn’t agree.

A/n: This bullshit has taken me two and a half weeks to write! Why is it harder to write for canon lesbians than it is for non-canon??? I’m proud of this though and hopefully it reads well, maybe I should’ve waited until the series was over but I wanted to get this out l

Words: 2k plus I think

Warnings: no smut but as always 18+ minors DNI just angst and kissing gay witches and sadness and all the feelings

A/n: I’ve read it a few times and it reads okay so ignore any mistakes 😂

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

IN THE BEGINNING

Agatha couldn’t believe it, her whole coven dead, it was accidental! She promised, but she couldn’t deny how powerful she felt, when they blasted her with their powers she wanted them to stop at first but then the electricity and power that crackled through her body was too good to pass up, so she let them, she let them basically kill themselves, did that make her a bad witch? Apparently her mother thought so-

A rustling from the forest startled Agatha and forced her to spin around hold her hands up ready to defend herself “show yourself!” She said and the figure emerged from the forest

“Hey it’s okay, relax miss Harkness I don’t want you to hurt yourself” the woman was dressed in some gorgeous green robes with her hood up “who are you?” Agatha asked cautiously stepping back every time the other woman stepped forward towards her

“I’m Rio, Rio Vidal, are you okay?”

Agatha shook her head no looking at the witches that lay on the ground “I…I didn’t mean too” she started to panic again thinking she would be yelled at and Rio stepped into her space holding her hands “don’t cry Niña bonita, you did what you did to survive, don’t ever feel guilty for that, your mother seems like an awful woman to send them after you, the witches got what they deserved”

The witch smiled letting the new stranger hold her in an embrace and Rio changed the subject slighty“I admired the way you took their powers, you will be an extraordinary witch you know”

Rio pulled back slightly removing her hood and taking it off, Agatha gasped “you’re beautiful” she whispered, blushing when she realised what she said

Rio smiled and Agatha wanted to remember that smile forever, god what was happening to her? “so what are you doing here?”

Rio loved away completely and walked around the bodies on the floor admiring the minimal damage, only their wrinkled skin and protruding bones remained, she turned to Agatha getting serious “do you know anything about death?”

“Only that I’ve just killed 4 witches, my coven, but I suppose in their deaths I become more powerful?”

Rio spun around and walked close to Agatha making the other witch a little nervous but still hold her ground “are you planning to kill anymore witches?” Her breath was hot on Agatha’s cheek “I guess it’s inevitable if when they try to hurt me they end up dying”

Rio’s breath hitched “Agatha harkness you are death’s perfect woman, leaving a trail of bodies in your wake is like leaving a trail of flowers for death to follow”

Agatha didn’t realise Rio had somehow gotten closer to her again and wrapped her arms around her back clasping her fingers together holding her close again “are you death?” Agatha whispered and Rio grinned, she was impressed that the girl figured it out so quickly

“Lady death and you are my new obsession, mind me for being so forward” Agatha didn’t have time to ask what she meant before she leaned forward closing the gap kissing the witch, when she tried pulling away Agatha held her head and pulled death in to kiss her again, harsher and more hurried almost like if she stopped kissing her death would disappear

“You taste divine m’lady” Rio smiled and kissed her once more “I will follow you wherever you go, from here to eternity”

Agatha chuckled breathlessly “just to clean up after me?”

Rio shook her head “to witness the making a legendary witch, the bodies are my bonus to that”

Agatha found that very attractive, a woman following her after she killed witches? What could be better, this was going to be a beautiful partnership

“Do you not feel sad anymore then?”

Agatha shook her head “not if you’re going to stay with me”

Rip kissed her forehead softly “I’ll never leave you Mi Amour”

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

A HUNDRED YEARS LATER

“Do you think I’d be a good mother?” Those were the first words Agatha had said since they came home and cuddled up in bed with Agatha lay on top of Rio with her head on her chest and Rio stroking her back

“I think you’d be an amazing mother, you’re caring and nurturing” she kissed Agatha’s forehead “and so so cuddly, what baby wouldn’t to lay their head on your chest and have you hold them like they’re a precious emerald?”

“I want a baby, I want to give someone the love and attention I never got from my mother” she moved up settling to kiss Rio softly, they didn’t often kiss like this but it was nice when they could

“Hmm well I may not know much about how babies are made but I’m concerned that we may need a male specimen”

Agatha shrugged “we’re witches, I’m sure we’ll figure it out, that’s if” she leaned back “that’s if you want to have a baby with me”

Rio sat herself up pulling Agatha back to her, holding her face stroking her cheeks “I would be honoured to be the baby’s father, I’d spoil that child rotten, do you think they’ll have powers?”

Agatha smiled “I hope so, we’d be such a powerful family”

Rio laughed “we’re already a powerful family, people fall at our knees from our immense power”

Agatha rolled her eyes “a little dramatic there darling”

“Correct, but back to the topic at hand, you’ll be an amazing mother, you’d look incredible pregnant and your libido is going to be off the charts”

Rio kissed Agatha’s grin off of her face, just enjoying each others company until Rio spoke again “mama Agatha has a nice ring to it”

Agatha felt herself tear up worrying Rio “everything okay?”

Agatha nodded “I can’t wait to be a mom, I’m going to love them so much, I hope they’ll love me too”

Rio smiled wiping her love’s tears away and kissing her cheeks “I guarantee they’ll love you as much as I do, we’ll make up for the love your mother never gave you, you’ll never feel that pain again, I’ll make sure of it”

“You’re going to make me cry all the water out of my body” Agatha said hiding her head in Rio’s neck “good, then you’ll have no sadness left”

“Who knew death could be so sweet”

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

10 YEARS LATER

“No no no please Rio please don’t take him! You promised, you promised me!” Agatha cried holding her son, his body was cradled close to her chest refusing to let Rio anywhere near the two of them, a ring of power separated the two women, Rio could easily step through and take what she came for, they both knew that, but Rio wasn’t heartless she just wanted Agatha to understand

“Agatha please, please don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be”

The witch lifted her face from her sons and kissed him on the forehead “you’ll have to kill me to take him”

Rio shook her head “I can’t kill you Agatha nor do I want too, I need to do my job and this is my job, please I promise I’ll take great care of him”

Agatha threw some power at Rio who easily shielded herself from it “take care of him?! He’s dead! The one good constant thing in my life is gone, if you wanted to take care of him you’d bring him back!”

Rio fell to her knees, tears falling down her face “he was my son too Agatha, I don’t want to take him, I don’t want to reap his soul but if I don’t take him someone else will and they won’t be as kind!”

Silence engulfed the room, both women crying softly, Rio wiped her face looking up seeing Agatha staring right back at her “…. cariño let me in please I won’t do anything until we’re ready” her voice was a whisper and she unsure whether Agatha heard her or not, she knew she did when the ring of protection was parted for her to enter

“Come here” Agatha said and Rio crawled over to her never tearing her eyes away from her witch “thank you” Agatha shook her head “don’t, just- just don’t say anything”

Rio nodded sitting with her legs stretched, pulling her son’s legs over her own so he was lay across both women, his favourite position, he’d often crawl into both of their laps on the couch and just sleep, Rio wasn’t around that often so he took full advantage when he could, he loved both his mothers dearly and got extra emotional when Mom Rio had to leave for a while but mama Agatha was always there to kiss his tears away and cuddle his sadness out of him

The memory was shared by both women and Agatha couldn’t hold herself back from leaning her head into Rio’s neck and crying, Rio didn’t say anything just shifted her head so Agatha could rest comfortably

Keeping true to her word Rio didn’t speak, she didn’t speak when Agatha cried for what felt like hours, she didn’t speak when Agatha placed one final kiss to her boy’s cheeks and she didn’t speak when Agatha allowed her to pick up Nicolas to take him away.

Agatha stood up refusing to look at Rio and cut some hair from her boy’s head placing it in the locket around her neck, to keep him close forever, that locket would never leave her body

She turned her back on Rio and the woman took that as her cue to leave, she held him tight and walked to the door, before she left Rio turned back and spoke “I love you”

Agatha bristled sighing and turned to Rio “I hate you” it was harsh, 3 words with such malice and Rio couldn’t hold her tears back from falling again, she was death and meant to be void of emotion but that was certainly not the case here.

Those were last words either women said to each other for hundreds of years, neither had crossed paths and no one dared mention either of them to each other but they thought about each other, Rio was always thinking about Agatha, whenever she was taking bodies she hated the way they looked, mangled and massacred, no style, Agatha made sure the bodies were in perfect condition, leaving them intact, like a beautiful painting, no one came close to that and no one ever would, she did wonder if Agatha ever thought about her

Agatha didn’t think of much besides having ultimate power, she’d take and do whatever she needed to get it, including killing multiple witches, that’s how her reputation came about, not that she minded of course, at least with this reputation no witch ever tried to destroy her, she liked being on her own and could focus entirely on her magic without interruptions

Of course she sometimes missed a certain person, she missed her smile, her laugh the way her eyes lit up when Agatha killed witches, now when she killed them no one appeared, no one came to take their souls, the activity that once excited Agatha no longer did it for her, there wasn’t anyone to share the power with, no one to take her adrenaline out on, when the memories became too much Agatha was quickly brought back down to earth when the memory of that witch stealing her child away from her, ripping her dead child from her arms and leaving Agatha all alone, at least that’s how she remembered it and who she to argue with herself?

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

YEAR 2026

She’d found her, after centuries of searching she’d finally found Agatha harkness and she was in somewhere called ‘westview?’ A small town with nothing of note besides a nice library? “Has she lost her mind? It sounds so boring, doesn’t sound like my Agatha”

When Rio arrived in the small town looking for Agatha she’d felt the magic, she felt the electricity left by another witch, the scarlet witch, oh Rio had heard stories of course, and when she went to collect her body….well that was a story for another day.

She found Agatha, wait Agnes? She’d been trapped in a spell caused by that witch, oh she looked adorable, walking around her house pretending she was a cop with a garden hose sprinkler as a gun and ‘driving’ a fake car, maybe Rio could have some fun before forcing her out of the spell, she wondered what Agatha might think of her as, she found out quickly Agatha thought of her as an FBI agent who she “hated” interesting

“Do you remember why you hate me?” Rio needed to know if she did remember, she couldn’t imagine Agatha forgetting everything they went through

“No, no I don’t”

Rio sighed “okay-

A crash upstairs distracted the pair and Agatha went running up the stairs to apprehend the intruder leaving Rio with her beer “she doesn’t remember….I’ll make her remember”

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

Agatha remembered, she remembered everything that happened between her and Rio, every memory was running through her mind as they both fought, as Rio’s knife cut into Agatha’s neck, as Agatha gripped Rio’s throat hard

“You can’t kill me” Rio choked out with a little giggle

“You can’t kill me! It’s not allowed” Agatha spat back the two started laughing and loosening their grip on each other “what are we doing?” Agatha asked and Rio rolled her eyes “come on Agatha, you remember our foreplay don’t you? Fighting and cutting, me licking all your wounds clean just so I can cut you up again”

Agatha shook her head getting up and standing away from the woman “I can’t believe you came back”

Rio got up too and pushed Agatha against the wall boxing her in so she couldn’t move away from her again “I spent centuries looking for you, every time I would go and collect bodies I would hope to see you, to see you waiting for me like you used too”

Agatha shook her head “as soon as I killed more witches I got the hell out of there just to avoid you” it wasn’t true but Rio didn’t need to know that

Rio seethed gripping Agatha’s throat again “don’t lie to me! You’ve missed me admit it!”

Agatha smirked “you’re so predictable, so desperate for my attention it’s almost pathetic”

Rio refused to back down gripping harsher and digging her nails into her skin to draw a little blood “because you’re mine, I found you that day when you killed your coven, I comforted you I defended you against your mother, you kill witches for me, like giving me flowers after a long day”

Agatha hissed at the pain and she hated it, she was just a powerless witch now but she couldn’t back down

“You’re also the one who stole my son from me”

Rio pulled back instantly, she was mortified, is that really what Agatha thought happened? “You mean our son? I didn’t steal him Agatha-

“Don’t!” Agatha pushed Rio away and she stumbled back keeping steady “you believe I stole him? All these years that’s what you’ve been thinking?”

Agatha shook her head “I know, I know you didn’t steal him but you didn’t have to take him away, you could’ve brought him back”

Rio opened and closed her mouth unsure of what to say “I- you know I couldn’t do that” Rio pulled Agatha close to her before she could try and run away “come here”

Rio enclosed her arms around the struggling witch “stop fighting me” Agatha struggled a little more before finally calming down and sighing in her arms “it still hurts” she whispered beginning to cry in Rio’s arms

“I know I know cariño I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, but why did you disappear?”

Agatha pulled away looking confused “I never disappeared? Not really, I’ve been around, and I’ve been here for 3 years”

Rio rolled her eyes “that stupid book kept you hidden from me”

“Were you looking for me?”

“Of course I was, you’re the most prolific witch killer and yet, I’ve not seen any bodies from you or heard anything from you” Rio stroked some hair out of Agatha’s face keeping eye contact “I wanted to see you again”

“I don’t think I wanted to see you, that’s why the darkhold hid you”

“Hm that’s a little hurtful Aggie, so what are we going to do about it?” Rio wiped the witch’s tears away smiling at Agatha starting to blush “I don’t know…I don’t know what I want”

Agatha knew what she wanted, she wants her power back, she wants her revenge on The Witch that put her in this situation and she wants…she does want Rio, but god she’s a pain, but she guessed it was a nice pain for the most part “so” Rio brought her out of her thoughts “what do you want Agatha?”

Agatha leaned in kissing a surprised Rio, when their lips met Agatha felt one thing she hadn’t felt in centuries, she felt electricity, electricity that ran all through her body, oh this was good. When she tried deepening the kiss Agatha felt hands on her shoulders pushing her away gently and she groaned “you’re emotional”

“Never stopped us before, did you feel it too? The electricity?” Agatha breathed out watching the way Rio’s eyes glazed over her lips clearly wanting to kiss her again “you did didn’t you? You said you wanted to find me and you’ve found me, so what do you want to do to me?”

Rio was now the one being backed into a wall, she let out a laugh at Agatha boxing her in “there she is, there’s my wife”

Agatha smirked “I’ve missed that word, say it again”

Rio leaned in close to the witch’s ear whispering low “you agatha harkness are my wife, you belong to me and always will do”

Agatha allowed her eyes to close feeling Rio’s lips graze her pulse point but stop just before kissing her “if we start this I won’t stop, you’re not getting away from me again”

“I’m here Mi amour, I’m not leaving you again” Agatha breathed out keeping her eyes closed when she finally kissed her neck “we’ll get your powers later” Rio teased and Agatha chuckled “I don’t think I care that much anymore”

Rio smirked into her neck “you need your powers, I like you formidable”

“Hmm, you’re a menace”

“I’m your menace”

[lurkingshan]

La Pluie Meta Round-up

Since many of us have decided to stop being normal about this show, I wanted to get a little more organized about tracking the great meta inspired by the episodes every week. Some of y’all are putting in work to write these amazing essays digging into the text and subtext of this show, and I want to make sure I’m not missing any of it, as well as have a central place to track my own. I thought this might also be a useful resource to others, especially anyone coming to the show late (please join us, this is the perfect moment to get into La Pluie). 

So without further ado, a round up of my favorite essays and posts to come out of the fandom on this excellent show. I will plan to update this each Saturday with the previous week’s meta as we go through the final four episodes. I tried my best to find everything but y'all know how faulty tumblr’s search and tag functions are, so if you think I missed something important, let me know!

First, the most crucial essay about La Pluie that everyone must read

We Must All Get Gayer and Louder About La Pluie Immediately (@bengiyo)

Second, a round up of some of the essays exploring the structure and intent of the story

Note: these may contain random spoilers for some episodes but are not specifically about any given episode

Four schools of thought on soulmates (@shortpplfedup)

Intentional subversion of the soulmate trope

Interrogating the romance genre (@chickenstrangers) 

La Pluie and the subversion of second lead syndrome

La Pluie and the subversion of the faen fatale

La Pluie: On the Lore 

Locations of La Pluie (@colourme-feral)

Name meanings in La Pluie (@recentadultburnout)

Narrative determinism versus genre determinism (@ginnymoonbeam)

On the subject of consent in recent bls (@williamrikers)

Romance tropes don’t work in real life (@heretherebedork) NEW

Romantic idealism in La Pluie (@ginnymoonbeam)

And finally, episode specific reactions and predictions

Note: These are spoilerific, starting at episode 4 aka when we all started really losing our minds over this show

Episode 4

Defying destiny (me and @bengiyo)

La Pluie Ep 4 And My Love Of Emotionally Available Characters (@bengiyo)

You (Yes, You!) Should be Watching La Pluie

Episode 5

La Pluie Ep 5 Stray Thoughts (aka birth of the Tai’s Dad is queer theory) (@bengiyo)

What we know about Patts (plus Shan and Ben’s vindication)

Working out the colors in La Pluie (@respectthepetty)

Episode 6

Hands in La Pluie Ep 6 (@wen-kexing-apologist)

La Pluie meets Nora Roberts (@syrena-del-mar)

On suspicion of Patts (@ginnymoonbeam)

Patts Was Going to Blow Tai. Tai Wanted It. Why That Matters. (@bengiyo)

You need to be watching La Pluie

Episode 7

Hands in La Pluie Ep 7 (@wen-kexing-apologist)

La Pluie: Maybe we will get a happy ending after all (@neuroticbookworm)

On the bed scene in Ep 7 (@ginnymoonbeam)

On the make out session in Ep 7 (@shouldiusemyname)

Episode 8

La Pluie and the Exploration of Romance, Competence, and Queerness (@bengiyo)

La Pluie: Do you still believe in soulmates?

La Pluie: The most important thing is that we really love each other

The Language of Love in La Pluie Ep 8 (@wen-kexing-apologist)

Third Child Syndrome: Birth Order Theory in La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)

Episode 9

La Pluie and The Kind One (@sunshinechay)

Soulmate Skepticism vs Romanticism in La Pluie (@neuroticbookworm) 

the divine in me; the divine in you (@liyazaki)

The Kindness is the Point (@bengiyo)

The ultimate message of La Pluie

To love is a choice (@heretherebedork) 

What matters is CHOICE (@shortpplfedup)

Episode 10

A Jungian Perspective on La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)

A Logical Love Doesn’t Exist (@fadelikeclouds)

break your own chains (@liyazaki)

Diving into Tai’s mind: Actions do not speak louder than words (@fadelikeclouds)

La Pluie: A Masterclass in Conflict Writing in Romance

La Pluie Breaks the Soulmate Bond

La Pluie: Not All Gays Are Great (@bengiyo)

La Pluie the Soundtrack (@shouldiusemyname)

Lomfon thoughts (@rocketturtle4)

On Tai’s isolation (@sunshinechay)

On villainising Patts (@shortpplfedup)

Pee Peerawich Can Fucking Act (@wen-kexing-apologist)

Revisiting episode 8

Similarities between Lomfon and Tai (@iguessitsjustme)

Tai and Patt’s incompatible conflict styles and Tais’ conflict avoidance (@ginnymoonbeam)

The Depths of Inner Turmoil (@syrena-del-mar)

The Soulmate Label (@indigostarfire)

Understanding the Core Four of La Pluie (@neuroticbookworm)

Episode 11

Balancing Self-Absorption and Love in La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)

Checking in on the colors (@respectthepetty)

Connection (@wen-kexing-apologist)

Communication (@shouldiusemyname)

Even though they’ve separated it doesn’t mean they’ve failed (@chinzhilla)

It isn’t destiny- it’s freedom (@liyazaki)

La Pluie and the Aftermath

La Pluie: Thoughts on the Queer Subtext and More Patts Reflections (@bengiyo)

On Tai as a middle child of divorced parents (@slayerkitty)

On Tai’s special treatment within the family (@shortpplfedup)

Parenting in La Pluie, Episode 11 (@neuroticbookworm)

The narrative is letting Tai be unlikeable (@sunshinechay)

[healingagoddess]

Have you seen that picture of the cast that's like "gay high school kid hanging out with the entire english department during lunch"? well I kinda thought of this when I saw it but I'm shy...

-

"Miss Harkness?"

Agatha made sure to draw her head up and lean it against the back of the chair. She flicked the page of her magazine letting it fall slowly (drama queen). "Yes...William."

But he took no offense. He anticipated the needless display of annoyance, could even take it for what it was--all show. "I made those copies you wanted and delivered them to the bio lab."

Miss Harkness gave him one more drawn look before lowering her feet from the coffee table, slapping the low heels of her boots on the laminate flooring. "And you want your next mission, I assume."

The young man slid the rest of his lanky body into the teacher's lounge. Despite being told he was allowed - while he was shadowing her! - he still held a respect for the space that was not his as a student. "Miss Kale told me to come find you."

Miss Harkness rolled her eyes. "She didn't have anything for you?"

He shook his head. "She told me to tell you to stop 'using the children as your personal gophers'."

Agatha finally rose form her chair, letting her magazine fall to the floor without a care. She had the time to mimic the cadence of the words with a high, whiny voice as she dumped out what he presumed was an old, forgotten coffee. "Fine, Teen, back to the dungeon."

She meant her classroom at the other end of the building. Miss Harkness famously referred her classroom being the furthest from the teachers' lounge as banishment. She would sing a little song about walking the witches' road on her way.

It did kind of slap.

William kept pace with her. She walked with a fierceness to her, but she was actually shorter than her body language would say. She swung her legs ahead of her, hands in her pockets. "And how are your other classes going?"

"Good, I think," he volunteered readily. He kept his hands half balled into fists at his sides. "Miss Calderu said she liked my last report, although I think she forgot what book it was on."

"Sounds like that kook," she laughed under her breath. A roaming pack of younger students bustled past them, jostling each other loudly. She didn't turn her head but snapped her fingers, "watch it!"

The rowdy kids gave her a look but ultimately did calm their movements as they continued on. William turned his head from them and back to his chosen mentor. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Get them to listen to you," he gestured vaguely behind them as they continued their walk to the stairwell. "Every time I see Miss Gulliver say something they kind of...don't listen to her."

"Wu-Gulliver is young, and she's too nice." He wasn't so sure that was a bad thing, but Agatha continued. "Respect is one thing, but you really want these hoodlums to listen, they need just a little bit of fear."

William tried not to let it show that he wasn't sure how the 5'5'' and slight woman beside him was scary. He'd heard her yell, sure, it was a thing to behold. But scary?

"Don't blow a gasket thinking so hard, Billy-Boy," Agatha laughed fully, snorting a little in the middle of it. "You don't need to look tough to be scary. Even a divine being such as myself can earn a reputation. Look at Miss Vidal."

Now, that, was intriguing. William did his best to seem uninterested. "What about her?"

Agatha remained quiet until they were able to walk past the devil's classroom in question. It was decorated for Halloween, despite it being November. It was just always decorated that way.

There was still some time left for lunch hour, but she was watching over some detentions; Miss Vidal always had the highest number of disciplinary cases. And she struck true, genuine fear into anyone unlucky enough to catch her eye.

Even with the door closed, it was easy to hear her slap her desk and bellow, "you talking? You little rats utter a single word while you're in here and I'll have you write each other's eulogies."

William tried not to squirm. Miss Vidal was on the younger side for the staff, and in the beginning of the year, most tried to take advantage of that. But she immediately proved that she was not to be pushed around. "How does she get away with saying stuff like that? Aren't there, like, rules about what teachers can say?"

Agatha shrugged, watching through the door window as the teacher within found it necessary to get up from her desk and walk over to her wards. "Yeah, but it only really matters if a parent complains. And she's got a stack of complaints as high as you, bean pole."

William rolled his eyes just to himself. "If she's got so many complaints, why is she still teaching here?"

Again, Agatha shrugged it off, But she adjusted herself to watch as much of the show as she could, positively glued to the back of the Spanish teacher with her eyes. "None of 'em stick. She's new but she came here from the district. She's not exactly out on her ass even if the school does fire her just for the public optics."

So, she had less to lose, could risk more. That actually made sense. Miss Calderu had been at the school the longest, and she was always nice to the kids. Miss Kale was a teacher for a day job, but she always talked about how she ran a skincare business at the weekend markets and online and stuff. Miss Gulliver did her best as the music teacher, even for kids not interested in it, but he was pretty sure her mom was famous or something.

"What do you have to lose?"

Agatha got this wild kind of look in her eyes. He could see a hint of that scariness she kept mentioning, but there was something else in there. He could see something kind of sad, fragile almost.

"I-I-I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"What?!"

William jumped out of his own skin as the door whipped open without any warning whatsoever. He hadn't even heard her walk towards the door. "I-I'm sorry Miss Vidal!"

Agatha didn't twitch. She didn't blink, she didn't move, she didn't breathe. Her hands were still in her pockets, and this grin came over her. "Come on, Rio, I came to show the kid the way real teachers get it done."

Miss Vidal's eyes were scary. She was completely blank in expression, like if he tried to read her mind it would just be haunted house screaming. "Leave him with me if you really want him to learn what it takes to teach."

William blinked as he found himself being pushed back. It was only an inch or two, but he looked down to find Miss Harkness had put her forearm up to lean on the door frame, putting herself between him and Miss Vidal, even just by a hair. It almost seemed protective.

"Easy, Tiger," she smiled at the younger teacher, "I've still got stuff to get in his head. You can have a go at him later--if he asks."

Miss Vidal shifted as well, looking at him with wide eyes. It reminded him of when a cat would stare into his soul. It seemed innocent, but there was something menacing about it. "Fine, but I'll get my hands on him eventually, Agatha."

"Hm," Agatha pursed her lips at her before leaning up and away, somewhat elbowing him back with her. She put her hands back into her pockets, "te veo."

The Spanish teacher looked impressed, and maybe entertained. She put her hand on the doorknob again, nodding cordially as well, "Querida."

William followed Miss Harkness, once again on the 'witches' road' to her classroom. He was almost 100% completely, totally sure that he had witnessed some hardcore flirting happening. But that couldn't be, because that would be insane. Miss Harkness and Miss Vidal?

"Whatever you're thinking, think it quieter, Kaplan."

The sharp and biting remark was much more what he expected. So much so, that he was able to shake off the odd exchange and smile again. "Why did you agree to let me shadow you?"

Agatha, like before, made sure to inhale really long, and exhale even longer. She needed him to know how annoyed she was by the question. "Why didn't you ask to shadow Mommy-Dearest?"

He gave her a look. She gave it right back to him. "Being teacher's pet is different. I wanna learn."

"You can learn from any of the bitches in here, kid. Teachers love a little pet--makes the rest of them easier to manage."

"Why?"

"Because you become a traitor to them, that's why," she interjected sharply. She clapped her heels together on the floor, angling her shoulders toward him. The light caught on the brass of her locket. "They resent you for it. But if you want something, then you pursue it, doesn't matter if the masses think differently of you, understand? If you're smart, if you're sharp, if you're talented?--the world recognizes stuff like that. And you should take your handful or someone else will take it from you. Am I clear?"

Okay, maybe she was a little scary (just a little). "Yes, Miss Harkness."

Her eyes changed again. That shiny shield she always had ready at a moment's notice receded again and her eyes took on a warmer hue. It was this change that always reassured him that he had chosen the right mentor (no matter how much she had discouraged him at first).

"Down, down, down the road," she mumbled mildly as she started walking again.

"Agatha!" Missus Davis - who Agatha constantly called Mrs. Hart by mistake - poked her head out of her own room. "Stop saying 'bitch' around the students!"

"Tend your own flowers, Sharon!"

I'm sorry it took me a moment to respond. I've had a lot of work lately. 😭

But thank you so much for blessing my ask box with this masterpiece. I love me an english teacher. I'd also want to be Agatha's pet. This is so good. Don't be shy, come on out and share your ideas with everyone. Your writing is also really good. You'd have a fan (me) if you do decide to post sometime.

I love that you added Sharon into this, I was so excited to see her on the show. Everybody was perfect. How did you like it?

[yourwitchybrother]

Apollo, My Beloved

Perhaps I couldn't wait any longer before I finally addressed my beloved patron and godspouse. Both of which are terms I will define in this post. Apollo has been part of my life, well... since birth! Being my Patron, he has been around for all of it. He's seen me at my best and at my worst, he's seen me through my relationships and my hardships. He saw me through my hardest moments, through the easier times, and through the trauma I've faced.

So yeah. He and I are pretty close. Let's get into it, this is going to be a long one.

Who is Apollo? ☀

I have heard Apollo referred to as the God of many things, and this description of him is not incorrect as much as it is a gross minimization of the things he takes Godly precedence over. He is the god of:

The Sun; Light; Poetry; Music and the Arts; Healing / Medicine; Plagues; Knowledge; Order; Prophecy; Truth; A God of Beauty; Agriculture; and Archery.

Some of these things are not as well known as others, and there are absolutely some things missing from that list. Again. He rules over a lot of things.

Apollo, in my life, has been more present as the God of music and the arts, and prophecy. A major part of my practice is the art of prophecy and divination, the concept of time and the future. Of course, I do not have as much time as I would like to delve fully into the concept of time as much as I'd like, but I still like to dip my toes into the concept of prophecy. It took me a while to accept the fact that prophecies do, in fact, exist, and they are things that can be accessed by someone who is not the Oracle at Delphi.

Apollo is also known for having many lovers and, more nuanced, has been claimed as a patron God of Queer individuals. He has had his fair share of gay lovers himself, and in fact, is quite known for having a series of lovers who have then turned into plants. For example:

Hyacinthus, who was turned into a Hyacinth. Daphne, who was turned into a Laurel tree. Cyparissus, who was (unwillingly) turned into a Cyprus Tree.

At a certain point, it is almost comical.

Apollo, as a Worshipper and Devotee.

Of course, everyone starts somewhere. And for a good portion of my practice, I started as a worshipper and devotee of Apollo. This meant that I was dedicating certain acts to him and gifting him little trinkets and leaving him offerings. My favorite instance was when I left him a pack of cookies for about a month. After a month, I went to eat them as to not waste them. The cookies gave me static and shocked me. Apollo and I had a conversation about boundaries following this.

I have been devoted to Apollo my whole life, I like to say. Ever since I could improperly hold utensils within my digits, I drew on things. When I first learned how to make illegible sounds, I sang. When I learned how to create poorly worded poetry, I crafted it. By no means am I a lyrical genius or a poet laureate. In fact, I'm horrible at writing song lyrics and I have only ever written one catchy verse, and in all my years of playing Ukulele, I have never been able to play and sing until November of last year.

However, in my early childhood, leading up to college, I was nearly prodigal when it came to musical instruments. I graduated high school knowing how to play clarinet, bass clarinet, saxophone, flute, xylophone, euphonium (my favorite), bass guitar, acoustic guitar, ukulele, trumpet, trombone, and kalimba. I'm sure there are people out there who know more instruments, but all things considered, this is a damn collection of instruments that I'm pretty okay at. In 8th grade I was the back-up singer in my military schools rock band, I was the acoustic guitarist.

I've also been acting for about 9 years (I'm about to be 20), which is a good portion of my sentient and cognisant life. I've done work both on stage and off, but yet still have not managed to be in a musical. They scare me.

Not to mention my history with other forms of art. In fifth grade, I painted a still life that was elected and ended up in a local art gallery. In the first week of May, one of my photos from study abroad was selected as being the best in its category and I won a prize. My history teacher hung a drawing I did of her daughter in the classroom because she adored it so much. However, that may have just been because it was a picture of her daughter.

This laundry list of artistic endeavors is not meant to be a flex or a brag. It's meant to showcase my extensive history in the arts and my devotion to Apollo. He has been an important part of my life. Before every performance, I pray to him. Before every concert, I'd ask him to send me humility and patience. Before every drawing, I ask Apollo for inspiration and a dash of creative whimsy. I also say hi to the sun every morning, wishing him a good morning while I drink my morning coffee.

Apollo, as my Patron.

As my patron, Apollo is my biggest mentor. He is there for me through thick and thin. When the going gets tough. I know I can lean on and rely on him.

My mother calls me Sunshine (my hair sticks up and gets all frizzy, and so she calls me Sunshine because she considers my hair to be rays), she always has. This is reflective of Apollo's presence in my life, in my opinion. A little ray of the sunshine that he emits.

But back to the mentor thing. Apollo has always been someone I can look to whenever I need guidance. Whether that means consulting the cards and asking him for some guidance, or using a pendulum and having an asinine round of "is that a yes or a no" with him, or him sending me a sign.

Very recently, I asked him for a sign that he's still there. That he hasn't gone anywhere or left me. I asked him to send me something bright orange, out of the ordinary, that I wouldn't expect to see. About two days later, at the beach, one of the friends we had been waiting on shows up wearing a bright orange dress. And I mean neon. And she never wears bright colors like that.

But, enough hyperspecific personal anecdotes. If I keep going, this post would be an autobiography.

Apollo, as a patron, is a very hyper and mischievous guide and mentor. He will say things that don't make sense in the moment, but will eventually make sense. He likes his riddles. He likes his complex-meaning messages. That is why it's important to write things down, of course.

Apollo, as a Godspouse.

So, let me start with the definition of a Godspouse. A godspousal to a God, Goddess, or any divine being with the intention to devote yourself to them wholly and fully for the rest of your life. This can look like a lot of things. It can be entirely platonic, it can be romantic, it can be a continuous boss-employee work style relationship, pretty much anything. The only difference between this and a normal worship or working relationship is that it is sort of binding. It is not a light decision to make, and it should be a decision you make after years of already devoting yourself to the divine being.

I am of the unpopular belief that you can start deity work at any time during your practice, not just later on. Apollo started my practice with me, and I am of the firm belief that I only understood parts of my practice and have made so much progress with his assistance. It obviously depends on the deity you work with, which deities you accept help from, and who you let into your life. But this is an entirely separate post for another time. Apollo and I have developed a strong, firm bond over the past 10 years. And in the grand scheme of my practice, we've been godspoused for only a short while.

Our relationship is more of a romantic kind, in the sense that we have our affectionate nicknames for one another (he calls me his songbird and sunbeam, and I call him Sunspot / my sunlight). We flirt back and forth and send one another gifts (I, in the form of offerings, and he, in the form of signs and literal gifts through people in my life). It's a sweet little give-and-take we have. My end goal, though, is to become a sort of oracle for Apollo. Again, this loops back to my obsession with time and prophecy.

The End (Finally)

If you read all of that, you rock! Apollo is important to me and he has left a major imprint in my life. He is a major source of light for me and to not ramble about him this much would be a cardinal sin of which I would have to repent for. Plus, he loves and adores attention. But I will stop running my mouth. As usual, if you have any questions or requests, feel free to comment them here or submit an ask via my tumblr. Blessed be, may the sun be your guide! A domani!

[respectthepetty]

I started to watch Kiseki last week thanks to my dash. My original plan was to bingewatch it after it`s finished if it has a happy ending which might have been wiser. However I am obsessed with Ai Di and Chen Yi. I think it`s interesting that Chen Yi tells Ai Di that they have to be quiet during their first night because Ai Di would get angry if he heard. I am not sure how he wouldn`t recognise Ai Di even if he is drunk because they have always been together but that`s not the point. He clearly cares about Ai Di and doesn`t want to upset him. But how does he know that Ai Di would hear them? Has he heard Ai Di with another man and has he been mad? Even though he calls Ai Di brother at that point he seems awfully upset when Ai Di is with other men and drags him away from them.

Anon, you didn't know this when you sent it, but I am the wrong person to ask.

I'm stressed.

I'm spiraling.

I'm laying in a field of lavender trying to snort the stems in an attempt to chill the fuck out.

All because Kiseki: Dear to Me's finale is so close that I feel it, yet I'm terrified the scene we are all clinging to from the extended trailer is a fake-out, and we are about to be MODC-ed all over again.

If this doesn't make sense to you, GOOD! Stay innocent, anon. Three episodes ago, I was worried about the same thing as you, but here I am on the eve of the eve of the finale, and I can't bring myself to fathom the show will kill someone, even though IT ALREADY KILLED SOMEONE!

But if you do know what I'm writing about, Anon, HOW ARE YOU SO CALM RIGHT NOW?! At least calm enough to send me this ask on the eve of the eve of the finale?! How is Laws of Attraction the only show to know the value of a bulletproof vest unlike all these mafia BLs WHERE IT SHOULD BE A GIVEN?!

And you're just as cool as a caterpillar on a leaf. I'm the caterpillar in the cocoon dissolving into liquid mush freaking the fuck out about death and bulletproof vests, while you are munching on the good bits of this story. Teach. Me. Your. Ways. I'm over here praying to all the santos about a FICTIONAL CHARACTER! My ancestors are judging me right now. So is God.

So due to divine shade, I'll try to answer your question - Chen Yi admitted he was always jealous of Eddie being with other people which is why he was dragging Eddie's ass out of places, (so I can't imagine him being on your level of chill if he heard Eddie having sex with someone else), but Chen Yi didn't realize that it was jealously and possessiveness until Eddie was . . .

Until Eddie WASN'T THERE!

See, I'm already detouring again! Because what will Eddie do if Chen Yi ISN'T THERE?!

I don't care if this chick is Zhang Teng's sister avenging his death or just has a crush on Baker Boy. She is the sole female character, and as a feminist who supports female wrongs, if she is the shooter, Mortal Kombat "FINISH HER ASS"

I support the gays, the goths, and the girls, but in the words of a woman who got it, Jane Austen,

Had not my feelings decided against you, sus high school girlie— had they been indifferent, or had they even been favorable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the woman who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved menace?

She better have really gone to the dumpster to throw that glass she just conveniently broke and helps step in to save Chen Yi when she witnesses the shooting because if not . . .

"FUCK"

[limetameta]

I need tombraxas fics and your opinion on it

I'm about to go OFF under the cut so beware

If you're looking for HEALTHY tombraxas I can offer you the following:

TOM RIDDLE HATES SOCIAL MEDIA

Summary: They're in high school it's modern au, the most dramatic thing that happens is that they know Walburga Black in person, who's trying to be an influencer. This is the cutest tombraxas I've ever written and I love it so gosh dang much. They're just so soft with each other and they love each other like lovesick teenagers can. Tom is a lil repressed and scared because he's a foster kid and Abraxas is a nepo baby and that's bound to create problems, but Abraxas is just so SAFE for Tom.

TOM RIDDLE THE IT GUY

To this day I believe I've peaked with this writing and that I'll never write anything funnier. Take the Riddle era kids, age them up, and shove them in a no magic office au. I'm laughing as I'm writing this honestly every time I remember this fic I giggle.

NOW IF YOU WANT TOMBRAXAS AS KIND OF THE DRIVING FORCE FOR PLOT, BUT SEEN FROM AN OUTSIDE PERSPECTIVE MAY I OFFER YOU:

KNIGHTS AND (PRINCES)SES:

Voldemort Wins the 2ND WAR AU - Ginny falls in love with Luna, but parallel to them Tombraxas is out here being divorced toxic and learning to reconcile because Luna is Voldemort's favourite student and Ginny is Abraxas' favourite student. I like this fic a lot. MAINLY because I love writing Voldemort wins fics that make Voldemort depressed.

THE ARITHMANCY FIC

Trans Harry AU. Abraxas is SICK AND TIRED OF DIVINATION. HE'S GONNA GET VOLDEMORT AND HARRY POTTER TO FUCK OFF WITH THEIR PROPHECY BULLSHIT IF IT'S THE LAST THING HE DOES. Featuring Voldemort being very domestic with Abraxas.

NUMBERED DAYS

Every adult in Harry Potter's life has failed him as a mentor figure. Enter Abraxas Malfoy, who's like I BET I CAN SPEEDRUN my man Tom winning this war and not having him deal with Harry Potter - I'LL BECOME A PROFESSOR AT HOGWARTS! SECRET MARRIAGE TROPE, VOLDEMORT AND ABRAXAS DISS DUMBLEDORE FOR HAVING A GAY RELATIONSHIP LONGER THAN HIS ONE SUMMER ROMANCE ASS. Harry Potter is not harmed. Who knew that was an option???

SNAPSHOTS

This is a story of tombraxas as told through a series of moving photographs.

RUIN

The first time I ever wrote a fic with tombraxas in it (Abraxas doesn't appear, but Voldemort talks about how that peacock man can get it)

it's old 2016 writing tho so beware.

YOUNG SNAKES

Albus Dumbledore gets sorted into Slytherin and how this changes the course of his life. Tom/Abraxas are side characters but they're together and it's clearly stated in text.

TOM RIDDLE SR.

Tom Riddle Sr raises his son. His son is gay for the peacock man, but this story focuses more on the father son dynamic than on them.

SIBLINGS

Hermione time travels to the past and acts as Tom's sister. Tom is flustered by Abraxas lots in this fic and they are together.

NOW ONTO MY MORE EXPERIMENTAL WORKS THE ONE WHO BRINGS COLOUR

Voldemort dies as per canon but he winds up in a hellish world devoid of colour and his senses. As he travels farther and farther out and gains more of his senses, it isn't until he finds Abraxas that colour returns to his life. I like this fic a lot.

THE CHANGELING

Tom Marvolo Riddle (the human) is switched at birth with a fairy changeling. The Fairy AS TOM RIDDLE grows up in muggle london and goes to Hogwarts and has a liaison with Abraxas and becomes Voldemort and all that. Meanwhile Tom Riddle (the human) grows up in the Fairy world and fucks shit up for the Unseelie Queen. I like the prose in this one a lot.

AWARENESS

Voldemort and Abraxas in this fic are not endgame but they are together. Endgame for Voldemort is finally being happy and healthy. For Abraxas it's Minerva. The two of them are still very much clearly codependant on each other and very open, and they do fuck.

AND NOW!!! FOR THE CREME DE LA CREME, FOR THE OP OF ALL MY TOMBRAXAS FICS, THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION, THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE, THE MAGNUP OPUS OF MY AO3

RETIRED PROMETHEUS

FUN FACT: The very first fic Abraxas ever appears in my writing, the one that set the precedent for all the other Abraxas in my works FIRST APPEARED IN Retired Prometheus - the LONGEST TOMBRAXAS FIC WRITTEN ON FFNET AND AO3 to date. This fic has truly taught me so much about writing. These two in this fic are so deeply convoluted and yet in love with each other in a very toxis way. I adore them. I adore the messiness, the codependence, the nobody will ever love you as I love you, my love for you is monstrous, but that's fine, I'll love you with all of my monstrous being. Everything that you see in the fics listed above this one CAME as a direct influence Retired Prometheus had on me. This is the OG. This is the abyss that stared at me and had me churning out Tombraxas fics for YEARS. This is the, even though I'm a terrible human being, I deserve to be loved, too, and nobody can do it better than you, you, Hercules, who've come to rescue me from myself, from my punishment from the Gods.

[agerefandom]

A Good Omens S2 Review

Hello everyone! I lied and watched the new season of Good Omens and because I have thoughts on it, I thought I'd write a little review. This is from the perspective of someone who was a book fan for over a decade before the show came out, so it is quite critical of the show, so please keep that in mind! I expect that it's much more enjoyable for folks who didn't spend so long invested in a different version of the characters.

Short/Spoiler-Free: Season two was a fun time with excellent new characters, but the finale sets them up for a disastrous third season, and making Crowley and Aziraphale the main characters really does dilute the original message of the novel.

The rest of the review contains spoilers and is over 1,300 words because I was an English major in Uni. Carry on for those curious!

Let’s start off with the things that I liked about the show!

1.The actors for Crowley and Aziraphale are continuing to kill it with their performances: the physicality they bring to their characters is a delight, their timing in the comedy sections is impeccable, and I enjoy watching them do their thing.

2. Gabriel as a comedy relief character was amazing for me. I usually don’t enjoy comedy (and didn’t enjoy a single joke in the flashback scenes, but that’s entirely my fault probably for not liking humorous TV) but Gabriel really did tickle me.

3. Loved the terrifying Jane Austen ball where Aziraphale just messed around with everyone’s brains! Very chilling show of angelic power, potentially wasn’t played as horrific as it could have been, but still very nice! I like when Aziraphale is scary.

4. Muriel is my child and I love them with my entire heart. They were a delight of a character. Really brought new life to the show, and a new person to learn the message of the book (humanity as divinity). (Although the second season didn't really... carry that lesson for Muriel or for anyone else, so never mind that.)

5. The new human characters were also enjoyable and very sweet. Their dynamic was believable and real and that was good to see.

6. The writers really did just decide to make every side character gay and half of them use they/them pronouns. I have mixed opinions on it, but ultimately I did think it was a lovely little detail, especially with the angels/demons who are more separate from human genders.

Okay, now let’s get into the rest of things.

I think my overall conclusion from this season is that Crowley and Aziraphale were not, at all, made to be main characters. Even in the first season, I felt that they overemphasized them. In the book, the focus is split between them and the larger plot, with lots of little side vignettes to make sure the reader is kept grounded on Earth, with the humans, who are the emotional centre of the book. Aziraphale and Crowley play as foils to human nature in Adam and they are not the main characters, though they are, of course, the main marketing force.

Making them the main characters, especially in Season Two, meant dropping a lot of their character progress and giving them a lot more angst than they had in the novel. Both of them feel very young, where in the book they definitely seem more like they’ve been around for several millennia. I also feel that they aren’t totally allowed to be as fucked up as they were in the book? (Maybe that’s just a personal vendetta: I am furious that Season One took out the scene where Aziraphale kills his magician’s dove out of carelessness.)

Okay, two small things and then I’ll get to the finale.

First of all, interesting to get confirmation that Crowley was in the war on Heaven and actually took up arms? Feels contradictory to his ‘demon who sauntered vaguely downward’ description and also odd to his character that he would have fought directly against Heaven but I imagine that’s building to some other twist involving Crowley’s Fall in Season Three, so I’ll let it go for now. (I still think it makes show!Crowley very different from book!Crowley though)

Gabriel and Beelzebub were a very nice thing, although underdeveloped. It made me sad to see that they, as newly appointed side characters, can have a simple relationship, while Aziraphale and Crowley are now main characters and therefore need a more tumultuous and dynamic relationship that they didn’t have in the book, where they were actually relatively solid.

Now let’s go for finale time.

Ultimately, I absolutely hated two key things about the finale.

First of all, the kiss. I’m not sure if it was a direct response to the harassment about S1 being queerbaiting or if it was always the plan to have an explicitly physical relationship between the two, but I’m so mad about it either way. It just accepts the narrative that a physical relationship is the only stable one (ie. if Aziraphale had kissed Crowley back, it would have fixed everything and they could have been together). I also don’t really want my Good Omens show to be a religiously charged commentary on queer love, which it immediately became, especially with Aziraphale’s immediate response being “I forgive you,” which highlighted everything I didn’t want Good Omens to become.

Framing the kiss immediately as a sin is such a bad move, I don’t know what the writers were thinking??? Emphasizing that Aziraphale is an angel and however much he can want Crowley by his side, he can’t kiss him because he’s an angel and kissing is… something that needs to be forgiven?

However the line was supposed to be read, it really seemed like a religious condemnation and it hurt more than I care to admit. Aziraphale in the books is so comfortable with his perceived queerness, and his recoiling from it here with Crowley at the point where it becomes explicit… I didn’t care for it.

And secondly, the promotion.

That was so stupid on so many levels. My partner said that it wasn’t in character, since Aziraphale is not an ambitious angel and seems like someone who would turn tail and run from a promotion. I can’t say I remember his relationship with ambition in the books, but I respect and trust my partner’s opinion on that.

More importantly to me, it entirely muddies the message of the story and it reflects very darkly on what season three will involve.

Good Omens was never about ‘fixing’ Heaven or Hell. It was about honouring humanity as the truly divine mix of both, about not allowing them to end the Earth, and about finding a small place for yourself to live: a bookshop, a garden, a cottage, a town.

Aziraphale choosing to go and reform Heaven totally turns that on its head: now there is no ending for the show without either abandoning or fixing Heaven, and how is that going to work?? You can’t turn angels into an anarchy because it’s very clear they have no real natural inclination to ‘goodness’ but neither can you truly save Heaven, because what are you going to do? Declare that there’s no more cancer for young children? No more evil in the world? God has designed the world with evil in it, and there’s no rewriting that. Suddenly Good Omens has to grapple with what was once ineffable and almost unimportant to the lives of the characters: the true purpose of Heaven and Hell.

I have absolutely no faith in almost any TV show to tackle that question (The Good Place gets a minor pass), and no interest in watching the story be told through Aziraphale and Crowley, who have always been more grounded characters in a world of too much divine bureaucracy.

On the note of divine bureaucracy, I felt like it was lacking from the flashback scenes. While I enjoyed them overall and really appreciated some of my favourite book moments finally being adapted on-screen, they didn’t really address the paperwork they were covering for each other: seemed more like the two of them running around having almost random adventures, whereas in the novel they were often doing each other’s temptations and salvations in a much more ‘oh, check that off the list and write a progress report to the supervisor’ kind of way.

Again, this is because Aziraphale and Crowley have been made into Main Characters and their place as subordinates is now unimportant. They are making Big Decisions and causing changes in the world, and I truly don’t believe that’s what Aziraphale and Crowley were made to be. They were just an angel and a demon who tried to solve the apocalypse and didn’t end up doing anything because the anti-christ was a little too human for the whole plan to work in the first place.

And I miss them.

[ithilwen-lionheart]

Home is where the heart is: Home is where you are - Legolas x Modern Day!Reader

Alternatively:

Ignorance is your new bestfriend

__________

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (you are here)

[ Part 3. Work Text: ]

There is no downplaying the hatred (Y/N) feels whenever her classmates would make fun of the Legolas that they see in the films.

Not only was it already horribly uncouth of them to brand him -or anyone, for that matter- as effeminate because of the way they looked or acted but they also had to sling “gay” about as if it were a rock meaning to insult instead of one’s sexual orientation. (Y/N) would always find herself muttering on the defensive whenever situations as such would arise, her thoughts simmering a little too hot with indignance and her composure only ever tempered by the winsome pondering that endured alongside it: that if Legolas were gay then he would be an addition to a party of wholly respectable people who followed their hearts and in their wake instead brings love in a cynical world that is already teeming with a troubling surplus of negativity.

It’s an enchanting idea -that dash of sweetness on otherwise stale and acrid coffee- like an exquisite chiffon paired with the cup of tea she indulged in one fine spring afternoon as she perused that slash Fellowship fanfic that featured her resident elf, Aragorn, facial hair, and some razors. It felt like a lifetime ago, she wouldn’t have even entertained the thought then that said elf would just stumble upon her doorstep one stormy night. Granted it was something she may find herself writing about, but more out of the imaginings in her head rather than out of actual experience. 

(Y/N) actually found promise in it -cataloging everyday life with the Woodland Prince. It would make for a good rom-com with a well-balanced lead. Legolas is as naturally romantic and otherwise capable as he is adoringly ditzy around modern technology. With the probability of property damage at an all time low now that he had discovered the magic of WikiHow and search engines, she actually finds herself chuckling at the mere thought of the plethora of reels that could be made out of the blond archer’s previous exploits- multitude of phone replacements notwithstanding.

He’s “beloved protagonist” coded that way. Mr. All Eyes On Me when he enters the room or makes his first appearance on the first panel or chapter, Darling Please Shut Up an entire season after he finally finds a healthier way to process his trauma and ends up letting loose that silly goose that’s been cooped up inside him for far too long. It would be an advantage that Legolas is already built with more empathy than the usual male lead, that he’s already more than just his looks or his poetic words and that his love prevails over what to others would usually be pride and self-preservation before some dramatic loss or divine intervention hard presses them into a much needed system restart- it would almost be too easy to love him-

It would be too easy to love him. It had been for someone as jaded as her, what more for everyone else?

And then she goes to thinking about the fangirls, the fandom, the trolls and the inevitability of negative press and immediately shuts the idea down. (Y/N) is not about to fight fanwars over at twitter, not anytime soon or in the far future if she’s got so much as a say in it. She barely held herself together today and almost went out for blood when one of her blockmates made a “mockery” of Legolas’ name and thought 'Le-gay-las' to be such a splendidly creative attempt to go about it. These are bored university students, she didn’t want to start thinking about what exponentially worse travesties kids who overindulged on questionable YouTube content are capable of.

Thankfully enough, before her overthinking could get even more cataclysmic, she finally reaches the tell-tale porch of her home. The beginning of that chapter in her book- the very stone that Legolas first stepped on before he changed her life forever. It was an image that was so charged with positive emotions it was not unlike a lighthouse to the turbulent seas of her troubled mind- something that grounded her as much as the thought of what life now breathed past her threshold.

A tenacious smile blots out the line of practiced patience that weighed on her lips, her hands a little too giddy and enthusiastic as she retrieved her keys from the pocket of her bag and unlocked the door.

Upon entering, the delectable smell of dinner wafted through the abode. It was a siren’s call to her protesting stomach and yet it was the longing in her chest that championed over the promise of what she knew to be carefully curated food. It is only by sheer good luck that the skilled chef responsible for this also happens to be the only one ever able to sweeten her most sour of moods- today being no more than an everyday foe for one already so adept at putting the worst of her at ease.

(Y/N) padded through the carpeted stairs with the urgency of a child running to their parents after a nasty row with their playground bullies. She wanted to recoil at the comparison -the notion entirely foreign and not at all founded by previous experiences of the sort and yet her chest brimmed with an all too familiar bittersweet ache at the assurance of a nurturing face and comforting words all the same; of warm arms wrapping around her all in a bid to face what demons the world chose to serve her up on an unwanted platter that particular day. She was certain that her hurried footfalls carried the weight of her emotions, that it was amplified even more when she all but flung her bedroom door wide open and off its hinges if she had a little bit more strength.

Then she sees him. In glittering hues she registers the shape of him, the familiar outline drawn with smothering saturation that glows a bit more vividly than per usual- when her eyes aren’t too watery and her ribcage hadn’t been stuffed with a little too much cotton. Legolas sat curled up on her worn bean bag, eyes focused on the horror flick playing on the telly, a bowl of popcorn balanced on his long legs crossed over each other- the paragon of a couch potato. (Y/N) never would've thought that it would be a look anyone would find attractive. Too often had it been stuck on as a warning label for a bottle of crippling indolence but the Elven Prince lounged decked out in modern day clothes and wore it like a badge worthy of admiration. 

He donned a juniper pullover and dove gray sweats and as she walked mindlessly towards him, (Y/N) swore he also had her heart somewhere in his pockets. Swears that he held it a willing hostage there when he subtly presented his cheek for a kiss when she came up behind him, when the corners of his mouth tipped into a languid smile after she did, swears that he tickled it with the sound of the chuckle that bubbled in his throat and the unmistakable scent of strawberries that wafted through the air straight from his mildly damp strands of spun moonlight.

"Legolas,” (Y/N)’s attempt at a careful inquiry proved a futile venture in the face of mirth, “-did you use my shampoo?" she manages with a poor excuse at a raised brow and the galloping echoes of her still missing heart.

A coy little smile and the soft press of thin lips against her own confirmed her suspicion: that he used her shampoo and that her heart was no longer her own.

"My heart lies wherever your feet may take you, en melleth.” he begins as if he shared her thoughts, as if Christmas came early for them and they beat everyone on the entire business of exchanging gifts. He goes on and (Y/N) thinks that it was a fine comparison, “You will have to forgive me for scouring what remnants of you there are if only to keep what little life in me remains in your absence." There was a twinkle in his eyes that belie the theatrical despondence in his words, a playfulness in him that (Y/N) insists warranted the bite on the tip of his sculpted nose.

“That’s what you get for holding mine in a vice grip in your pockets.” She quips and tries not to falter at the mild discomfort on that handsome face.

Soft baby blues look up at her in perplexity. Furrowed brows and genuine confusion making a young boy out of his Elvish immortality, “I do not have anything in my pockets-” he begins and yet his hands find their way into a dutiful search, “As I thought,” he mutters once his foraging concluded and proved fruitless, “Whatever it is you had lost, en melleth. Sadly, it is not with me.” His entire mien was so veritably apologetic, the gears in his head already turning to plot for ways in which he might provide her aid- it was a trait of his that she’d been familiar with. As a sentry to The Fellowship, (Y/N) had always seen Legolas a step ahead of his companions, both in battle of blood and mind. He was only ever second to Gandalf who was a wizard, and on occasions, Aragorn when it came to matters concerning mortals and their ideals. In his pondering, his initial befuddlement had dissipated and had instead been replaced by upset and a very much undue disappointment with himself- (Y/N) didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry at the thought that it was now her incriminating jape that was completely lost at sea, that it was something so abstract that Legolas seemed a bit too obligated at finding. 

She instead settled on helplessly shaking her head all the while dismissing what needless fretting the elf is currently doing, “It’s a metaphor for something else, Legolas. It’s not something that’s truly lost in a physical sense. Don’t lose your pretty little head over it.” (Y/N) gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and hopes that the whimsical smile she tossed along with it would be enough as she took her place to sit on the floor beside the prince.

“A metaphor,” the blond elf muses, “You did mention something of the sort before now. I fear it remains to be a notion I am still yet to fully comprehend.” there was a sheepishness in his smile at what he seemed to consider was a persistent lapse on his knowledge. As much as the look made him youthful, it was something his wisdom didn’t deserve.

And with all things concerning the Elven Prince and his honor, (Y/N) finds herself donning her figurative sword and shield- ever so ready to step into the fray to fight what shadows crept and posed a threat to his tranquility, “It’s not that it’s something you’re yet to comprehend. You have poetry locked and loaded with how you speak, metaphors come as easy to you as breathing does- it’s my choosing to speak in riddles when I shouldn’t that’s the problem.” She was certain that she made no room for self-loathing in the manner by which she spoke because she knew all too well just how equally as easily Legolas would bleed concern for her.

Still, his hand finds hers all the same as he leaned down to give her his full undivided attention, “And what riddle was it that you regaled me with?” he tipped his head in askance, strands of his hair slipping over his shoulder and pinning her down with the lingering scent of her shampoo.

"I swear someday I'm just going to die of diabetes because of your version of clothes-cuddle." (Y/N) lamented off-tangentially as a means of submerging her compromising statement from before back into its watery grave. She adapted the same dramatics the blond elf used on her not too long ago for good measure and it went as seamlessly as the fluid incorporation of his presence in her life. The idea of it wrapped around (Y/N) like a favored quilt.

Legolas on the other hand, he steeped on a wariness that dwelled on her plaint- a jest that unbeknownst to (Y/N), he so gravely misunderstood. He opts to abandon his popped corn kernels and placed it on the floor in front of him in lieu of reaching out to her, “Come,” 

It was (Y/N)'s turn to blink up in confusion, “What for?”

“Will you indulge me?” Pleading, (Y/N) surmises, is a look best left for cats and dogs and should by all means be rendered an actual criminal offense when wielded by Legolas on grounds of what farce it would deem one utterly willing to commit for his name.

“Will I even be able to say no when you’re looking at me with those eyes?” she finds herself saying with no small amount of tenderness, already accepting defeat for a war that was all in her head. Those eyes were worth more than a dozen losing battles fought, she thinks, worth all the white flags she could wave until her arms fell off her shoulders-

Legolas raises his vacant hand to cover his eyes and (Y/N)’s thoughts skids to a halt.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you the option to refuse. You always have a choice, meleth nîn. If my gaze impairs your judgment like so then on my head be it.” Legolas answers simply and so so factually that irregardless of how comical he may look to some in that very moment -a hand still reaching out to her and another over his eyes- his words were astute and to (Y/N) he was what she’d want the entire world to be, “A lone tap on the palm of my outstretched hand for a refusal and two for acceptance.”

She’d take limbs off corpses if that’s what it took to continue waving those flags to surrender to him. (Y/N) decides he needn’t know that, if only to preserve what little dignity she had left to lose and to keep the elf from looking at her in terror at yet another misunderstanding of a completely harmless metaphor.

Though, she does find herself laying her cheek on the palm of that outstretched hand and holding it in both of hers and she doesn’t know if waving those undead hands still seemed like such a bad idea compared to this.

At the very least not until she witnesses the gesture startle Legolas enough that the hand over his face falls to his lap and she is greeted by an almost childish uncertainty made soft by enduring affection, “Is this a "yes "?" he queries, voice as gentle as the thumb that absent-mindedly caressed her cheekbone.

(Y/N) thinks she could settle with embarrassing herself like this, figures she could go above and beyond by nodding her head wordlessly and failing at hiding a smile that was both dumb and shy in equal measure if Legolas would give her an even dopier one for her efforts- like what he’s doing. Perhaps he can work on putting a damper to his elvish charms because even then his beauty remained, or, (Y/N) thinks she could just shove it where it matters because there are more things far worth considering then than her insecurities as a damned mortal.

Like how this painstakingly beautiful Elven Prince gently pulled her in by the waist so that she was sitting on his lap, for instance. Or how he wrapped his slender arms around her stomach and rested his head on top of hers with so much tenderness she ironically felt like she was just a breath away from shattering into a million pieces-

And then he buries his nose into her tresses and breathes in and (Y/N) swears he greedily took those pieces of her in and put them back together again with an exhale and that little shimmy he did to settle them snugly into the confines of her protesting bean bag.

No words were exchanged as they resorted to watching what cheesy horror movie it was that Legolas had on. Adept hands that once wielded bows and arrows with killer precision put hard at work massaging (Y/N)’s aching muscles, wise and quiet lips almost childish as he showered her with an unprecedented kiss here and there.

Three movies in and it became nothing short of an indulgent habitude for Legolas and more than once (Y/N) fails to reign in a giggle at the most inappropriate of times. First was during a particularly gruesome death scene from a slasher movie that Legolas looked at her in absolute horror for; second was at a nasty exorcism that had gone so horribly wrong she wouldn’t have blamed The Elven Prince if in that moment he honestly thought she had been off her rocker as he looked at her in alarm once more; and third was that literally bloody elevator scene from The Shining- though it was also then that she had caught up to something and stepped her foot down because the terror-stricken expression on Legolas’ face remained the same as it had been the first two times. She looked at him long enough that she saw the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Looked at him long and hard with narrowed eyes until his resolution faltered and a side of his lips quirked ever so slightly heavenwards- (Y/N) was certain that if she hadn’t loved him as much as she did, she’d have sent him back to his maker along with it when the realization dawned upon her that the entire time, the entire bloody time, he had actually been playing her.

Legolas Greenleaf, son of The Elvenking Thranduil, Prince of the Woodland Realm and the stalwart sentry to The Fellowship had been messing around with her. She thought it to be too scandalous an improbability to even entertain- at the very least previously when she was a little too drunk on love and comfort and how Legolas smelled exactly like her that he could never -would never- drop so low as to pull such an elementary prank as making faces. Now that she was a little bit sober, she scours the catalog her mind subconsciously took of Legolas’ fears and inspects them with keener eyes. A part of her thinks she might be overanalyzing it, that it might just be her looking for problems where there is none, but all of that was clubbed down when she recalls that scene with the Balrog from the Mines of Moria, she places it beside the memory she had of the Elven Prince the first night he flooded the bathroom, that one time she accidentally walked in on him naked and he ripped her shower curtains in an attempt to preserve his modesty- his fear was something that took its time crawling into his eyes, something that could only ever pull so slowly and subtly at his features as he always fought so valiantly against it. 

It was all those and most certainly not raised brows, glittering widened eyes, and parted lips that hosted a gasp.

A godforsaken gasp.

(Y/N) inwardly banged her head against the walls of her mind on account of her stupidity. She should have known it from the damned gasp. Legolas was never one to make such a clear-cut sound of his discomfiture. Even in the direst of situations it was his face that would tell the entire story, whatever it is that will leave his lips would be actual words strung with a purpose.

Three movies in and Legolas frolicked enough to feign three startled gasps that (Y/N) actually believed in and felt sorry for. Three movies in and (Y/N) could actually commiserate with cross girlfriends and what need they felt to throw silly little punches at their guffawing boyfriends’ arms- embarrassment at the blatant comparison to an actual labeled relationship be damned. Three movies in and (Y/N) gets to thinking that she might actually have to cut Legolas’ screen time if he’s going to start making a habit out of pantomiming goddamn teenagers from cheeky television series.

She’d call it when he actually starts showing fascination towards jerseys and convertibles. The telly would have to find a home in the dumpster then.

“Having the time of our life are we, giggles?” she deadpanned, trying her damndest to remain unamused as velvety chuckles assaulted her eardrums, strong arms winding securely around her waist as Legolas pulled her even closer to him and nuzzled against the crook of her neck as if she were a treasured plush toy at every attempt of hers to pull away. It was once again a losing battle -as with everything else that concerned him. (Y/N) didn’t need those figurative swords and shields, not when they were as good as balloons fashioned by clowns at a children’s party in the face of the elf’s almost puppy-like clinginess.

A golden retriever puppy named “Giggles”- it wasn’t a far-fetched idea. If anything, it made a little bit more sense than the words Legolas spoke next.

"For what joy you bring me,” he states solemnly, chin perched on the plane of her shoulder as he looks up at her with serene determination in his gaze as if a gallant knight declaring the decimation of a most fearsome foe for his lady’s honor, “I shall protect you from 'diabetes'.” and before (Y/N) could even process the absurdity of his statement and crack at it, Legolas goes on- almost ludicrous in his earnesty, “Let all those who attempt to so much as lay a single threatening touch on you be dead before their stroke fell." and he was kissing the top of her head as if she were something so precious that she lost all heart to explain to him that diabetes wasn’t exactly something he could shoot or stab at to be rid of. Instead, she joins this little circus and offers her condolences to it in advance because if by some odd stroke of misfortune it takes on a concrete form, she’s certain that the Prince of Greenwood -otherwise known as the retriever puppy Giggles- would certainly be nipping at its tail in no time.

His lady’s tinkling laughter pierced through the foreboding silence of the magical box before them and Legolas allowed himself a slow smile as he too, fixed his attention on the movie.What pride and joy he had for the success of his pretense at obliviousness may have rubbed the Valars the wrong way because no sooner than he relaxed, a monstrous phantom flashed into the screen and the screech that left with what part of his soul was ripped out of him from shock had been a little too genuine.

-----

[ FIN. End of Chapter 1, Part 3 ]

———-

A/N:

As promised!

Also, as per the disclaimer I had put out on my notice, you will find that this part is written as a lighthearted and speedy almost-crack fic. This is due to the entirety of Chapter 1 initially having been written as a whole instead of in segments with this bit in particular having been cut off from Part 2 due to its derailment from the course I ended up taking with its re-written ending.

Additionally, it had been quite some time since I had last worked on a written piece- even longer still since I had last worked on this particular fic- so I apologize for whatever failure in consistency there may have been in my writing.

I find that I should also let you wonderful readers know that I have read, immensely appreciated, and loved each and every one of your comments and reblogs. I cannot thank you enough for your words of encouragement and investment in this story as it had played a significant role in bolstering my previously dwindling passion with this particular craft of mine.

If time and drive permit, this part may end up with an update containing a visual of some sorts. I had been working a bit more on illustrations when I'm not writing so we shall see~

Taglist: @siriuslydestiny, @elysianluv, @daddy-long-legolas, @foxchild-v

[tisiphonewolfe]

Writeblr Intro

Heyo!

I'm Tisiphone - or Tiss, or Tizzy, I don't mind (she/her). I mainly write SFF, but I intend to try my hand at horror and potentially espionage thrillers in the future. I also can't seem to write anything without women being very gay in the middle of it all, so I'm leaning into it.

I follow from @princessw0lf

About me:

I'm a disabled trans lesbian from the UK

What I like seeing in books? Mysteries woven through the plot that resolve satisfyingly. Characters that bounce off each other and grate against each other in interesting ways. Weird romances that don't dominate the plot, but are a key part of it. Great character development.

Favourite books? The Locked Tomb Series by Tamsyn Muir, The Unspoken Name by A.K. Larkwood, Malice by Heather Walter, The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. And a lot of Terry Pratchett.

Fiction I probably won't enjoy? Something where the plot is purely interpersonal drama or romance with nothing interesting happening outside of it. Literary fiction. YA.

Outside of writing? By day I'm a software developer. The rest of my time is spent drawing, playing games both video and tabletop, and playing electric guitar (badly).

DMs/Asks/Tag games? Fire away!

@sam-glade is my pal and you should go check them out too!

With this blog I'm aiming to post writing updates, inspiration, and probably writing-related memes.

About my writing:

At the moment I'm primarily writing high fantasy/epic fantasy, with a view to trying out some more genres later on.

Admittedly a lot of the classic elements of western fantasy are in there, but I've been trying to get back to the mythological roots of creatures like elves, gnomes, and dwarves, and to present them as not being all white and vaguely British.

The world of The Tectomancy Saga is also, like that of my childhood writing hero Sir Terry, an odd shape. There's a reason for that, and we'll get to it eventually.

While my stories are currently third-person multi-pov stories, I intend to experiment on that at some point in the future.

My stories will probably all revolve around two things; a central mystery and a central relationship. I love a plot where you can pick at the smallest words and phrases, theorise about absolutely everything. I want to write stories where people have a thousand ideas about what the truth is, and each one of them knows there's a good chance they could be correct. I also, as a queer trans lady, want to write about sapphic relationships and include many people who are not cis.

My favourite themes to write are anti-authority, people breaking out of systems they've been trapped in for a long time, people being more important than power.

I'm definitely a plantser. I know kind of where I'm going, but let's see where the journey takes us along the way!

Finally, you can expect the tone of my writing to be trying to find that sweet spot between serious and dry humour that makes you groan, with a healthy sprinkling of subtle meme references.

Current projects below the cut

The Tectomancy Saga

On a bowl-shaped world suspended far above swirling blue mists, nine goddesses, witches, or geniuses, blessed their peoples with divine magics, then disappeared. Now, the world is decaying, tensions are rising, and people scramble to control the magics in order to shape the future.

Made with Crown and Claw

WIP Intro

High Fantasy: The classic Princess-in-a-tower-guarded-by-a-dragon story, but we see the machiantions that put her there, and what happens afterwards.

Releine Sholt is hand-picked by the heir to Tectomancy, Princess Almyra Tectus, to be her new bodyguard. The role has one ominous stipulation: nobody can ever speak to the Princess, on the threat of dire punishment.

'There was only one bed' turns out to have horrifying consequences.

Progress: Fourth draft done at 129.5k

Bound by Stone and Blood

High Fantasy: The saga continues from different perspectives, having different adventures, that will eventually conjoin.

Almyra vies for control of her kingdom. Ellimane tracks down two misfits who are being hunted by a rogue automaton. Releine visits hell. A new threat rises in the shadows of Versewelt, the decaying land.

Bitter exes who technically never dated are definitely not thinking about each other.

Progress: First draft underway at 69k

Snippets and Short Stories:

Flash Fiction Friday: On the Edge

Flash Fiction Friday: I Can't Tell

Her New Captain (Alternate Chapter)

Other

Naenia, through Murder

WIP Intro

Naenia, the reaper who is responsible for death through murder, is shellshocked when a murdered homicide detective returns to life before her eyes and promptly asks her out on a date.

Detective Carina Choudhry has an odd - very Goth - new girlfriend, who saved her from the serial killer she was on the trail of.

Progress: Complete at 46k

Fay and the Red Kite (Title pending)

Fay Orrel, a trainee mech pilot, finds that her beaten-up old training machine holds an AI that has replicated its deceased former pilot. She tries to keep the other woman secret from the PMC that owns the mech, who would be certain to wipe the AI's memories, destroying Mina forever.

Progress: Well, I wrote the prologue and some of the first chapter. Being dabbled with!

[lostwillowtree]

the thing i love about jd is that his whole belief isnt just ‘god is dead’ or ‘society is inherently evil’, he seems to have this belief that god exists within people, that divine power is wielded by those that know how to, and his goal is to wield it

this first becomes obvious in ‘our love is god’. i dont really need to spell it out, it’s in the title; jd and veronica’s love (or, more specifically, jd’s love for veronica) is strong enough to wield that power of god (“you are the only thing that’s right about this broken world”). this is his perception of their relationship - we will love each other so much that we can destroy the fucked up world and make a new, better one (“we’ll burn it down and then we’ll build the world again”)

the contrast between this and what veronica wants between them (seventeen) is the key underlying conflict in their story. veronica wants them to be normal and be happy with that, even if they could be more (“we’re not special, we’re not different, we don’t choose who lives or dies”).

nonetheless. in our love is god, jd writes a fake suicide note from ram and kurt (“ram and i died because we had to hide our gay forbidden love from a misapproving world”), which turns out to become reality in “my dead gay son”. if you missed that line(which i did first time i watched), you’d have no idea that kurt and ram being gay was made up; its never mentioned again. jd makes it reality because of his obsession with veronica.

ticking back, the same thing happens in “the me inside of me”, but jd’s stance isnt obvious yet because heather’s death comes off as a freak accident.

in “yo girl”, jd tells veronica’s parents about her depression (which, as far as im aware, isnt real), now skewing veronica’s reality, which she seems to play into by faking her suicide. this isnt enormous - it was just him lying to her parents, but it still kind of comes off as such.

and finally, in “meant to be yours”, he concocts the plan to convince the entire world that the students of westernburg high all decided to destroy the school with themselves in it. he tells veronica in “dead girl walking (reprise)” that “people are gonna see the ashes… and think, there a school that self destructed, not because society didnt care, but because that school was society.” jd quite literallt intends to ‘destroy society’ to prove a point; he doesnt believe the world can improve, but rather that it should be destroyed and reconstructed, as he plans in our love is god

and, naturally, in “i am damaged”, we come full circle. “wish you’d kiss me, than you’d know i worship you” proves that jd hasn’t really changed his motive at any point; from the start to now, he has being fully devoted to veronica. even now, he still believes that, even without him, its her who should be leading the world to improving (“stick around here, make things better”)

which is to say, that in our love is god, after shooting the two guys who sexually assaulted his girlfriend in front of her, he devotes himself to her as a goddess, the same words he says right before he dies (“i worship you, id trade my life for yours, we’ll make them disappear, we’ll plant our garden here / and once i disappear, clean up the mess down here”)

and back to ‘divine power is wielded by those that know how to’, jd clearly thinks this of the heathers; three girls who are percieved adjacent to gods in their school, he is partially responsible for killing heathers chandler and framing it as suicide, and attempts to convince veronica to do the same to one of the other heathers (i forgot which one).

jd does not believe that reality is shaped by gods, but by people who are willing to do so. the power of divinity is within every person and a human can become a god and manipulate reality to their will if they are willing to dehumanise themself so. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[friends-to-lovers-tournament]

Friends to Lovers Tournament: Round 1, Side A, Match 2

propaganda under the cut!

Tasutsumu:

Submission 1:

(exploding) sorry if this is badly written i am walking rn . Mods know the series but A3 is about stage actors.

TasuTsumu are literally the friends to lovers ever. They're childhood friends, even. They did everything together. They've acted together since elementary school. but then (VINE BOOM) they both try out for a prestigious acting troupe called GODza... but only Tasuku makes it in (sad horn sounds) Tsumugi lost a ton of confidence after not making it and kinda ghosted Tasuku and ran away from his problems </3 he originally had given up, but missed the stage so he tried out again at the Mankai Company (troupe all of the characters are in). Of course, as fate has it, Tasuku had just left GODza after their... unsavory business tactics, but the troupe had blacklisted him from becoming an actor at any other high end troupes in the area, leaving him to go to the Mankai Company. And of course times 2, he and Tsumugi try out for the same troupe. Tasuku is less than pleased with seeing Tsumugi's face after he just disappeared before, and things between them are tense, especially when Tasuku gets fed up with Tsumugi's lack of confidence after he becomes the troupe's leader. But!! Fate wants them to get along (and be together) and Tsumugi finds this cursed doll that traps them in a time loop of the same day. They're stuck until they resolve their issues. Nothing like a good ol divine intervention to get two friends to lovers back together. tldr Tsumugi owns up to his insecurities to Tasuku and works to overcome it. In the process, while performing their play in an act off (if they end up in the competition i'll actually essay about it) Tsumugi feels that his acting is inferior once again and totally bombs a show. Tasuku finally works around his own regrets of not reaching out before when Tsumugi had "quit," telling him how much he loves and envies Tsumugi's acting, and apologizes to Tsumugi. Then boom they pull off an incredibly gay play about angels and become lovers (not canon but Trust me).

please let me write properly about them and put them in i love my blorbos <3 they were made for this tournament

Submission 2:

absolute best friends in childhood who had a very impactful falling out, but managed to resolve things. nowadays they're in a theatre troupe together where their troupe is quite literally married.

Submission 3:

1. CHILDHOOD FRIENDS

2. Their introductory arc was literally a whole divorce-reunion arc. They divorced because Tsumugi failed an audition into the God Squad theatre troupe while Tasuku got in which was a blow to Tsumugi's confidence as an actor and he ran away and Tasuku was mad at him for that. It was literally so bad that the game had to break its slice-of-life genre to introduce a doll that traps people in a timeloop until they're able to make up, and they (and another guy who's kinda a cryptid) are the only ones aware that the day keeps repeating

3. After one of their shows, Tsumugi overhears some audience members criticising him and comparing him to Tasuku, which leads to him changing his acting style in the next show which completes bombs their show. Out of shame, Tsumugi runs away, and it takes Tasuku some hesitating before chasing after him and finally telling him how he REALLY feels -- that he was guilty for not being able to do anything to help Tsumugi when he failed that audition years ago and ran away, and that he admires Tsumugi's acting for what it is. The anime makes this scene even gayer by having them meet on a bridge in the snow and Tasuku holding an umbrella over Tsumugi's head as he pours his heart out to Tsumugi

4. Tsumugi regains his confidence after hearing that, and they finally FINALLY 100% reconcile

Zenyuki:

they start out strangers who despite their different statuses become friends, who then gradually develop feelings for each other as they continue to get to know each other better! despite being a prince, zen treats shirayuki like an equal, helping her out with her herbalist qualifying exams even staying up late in the greenhouse and getting his hands literally dirty with soil all to help her. shirayuki also treats zen like a friend and doesn't kowtow or walk on eggshells around him just bc he's a prince. they have so much mutual admiration and respect for each other, and they inspire each other to grow and chase their goals! i also really like that the story goes out of their way to show that they have lives outside of each other, that they both have separate goals, responsibilities, and duties but they come together to support each other in working towards them! also that neck kiss scene mmm i think about that a lot

[longeyelashedtragedy]

oooo... deeply curious about 'she may not remember me (but I remember her)'

so much to say about this!!!! this fic is my greatest point of sadness because...i wrote the first chapter and think it's fabulous, though have never been courageous enough to post it here for some reason, and wrote part of a later chapter and i also think it's fabulous. i posted it here! however, i also set up a structure that's difficult (for me) to work with and i am completely stuck because what i had planned was sort of too exhausting. now i'm just waiting for like, divine inspiration to strike. i stayed up till like 7am writing this when inspiration struck (oh...the things you do in late march early april) so clearly when i figure out what to do with it, words will flow out like endless rain into a paper cup, but i just...have not in any way been able to figure out what to do.

this fic is a franko, jamie, louise, christine fic set in summer 2010, mostly narrated by louise but with some franko POV parts as well. louise is very unhappy in her marriage at this point, while in contrast, this is christine and frank's first summer together as a couple. they go to a weird house on a private island empty but for the 4 of them, and there's awkward tension. also 3/4ths of the folks on this island are secretly gay. on their 2nd day, Something Happens to shift, well, either the reality, or frank and louise's perception of reality, and the ladies wind up trapped outside the house while the men are trapped inside, and on each day, their reality and memories become more shattered as they sink into weird debauchery and isolation. at the end--what is the truth? what really happened? will we ever know?

this was inspired by many things but largely by the idea that this curse hangs over the lampardfamily, infecting everyone in its wake, and also what happens when someone new joins in--how are they affected? you can see influences of "dumb kids in their forties" and "enable camera 4" (regrettably) in it.

i also wrote most of the epilogue and it went pretty hard :( i wish i could figure out how to continue!

the title is just me being a huge phantom of the opera gay and being a little too delighted about the fact that i can perfectly deploy a phantom lyric here-

"can it be? can it be christine? (bravo!) long ago, it seems so long ago, how young and innocent we were, she may not remember me--but i remember her"

it's PERFECT considering"remembering" is the central theme of this--what do they and don't they remember, and what is even real? i think it also ties in well with the final line of the epilogue.

sorry for the like 99 theses i just nailed to the door here. thank you for your ask!