#i haven't finished any books since 3 weeks ago

[hexcitrine]

randomly looked at this account to update my age and holy shit it's been a while since i posted here..........i have a small pile of art i have yet to post but hbhbshdbshbd too lazy

[reiderwriter]

She's a Silver Lining

Chapter Nine of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer comes to terms with your abduction.

Warnings: ANGST, Suicidal ideation, kidnapping, mentions of fetal abduction and murder of pregnant women, descriptions of abuse, descriptions of prenatal care, typical case details. Spencer is depressed.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is a day late, I literally saw God this weekend (I saw Taemin perform live), and really, all that's been on my mind is how God is Good (Taemin is hot), and so I haven't been able to write anything as depressing as this chapter. I hope you enjoy (?) it anyway~♡

Masterlist || tags are currently broken, I'm sorry ♡

Eight days. It had been eight days since Spencer had last seen you. Eight days since he'd screwed up his one job so massively that he'd lost you. 

He'd lost people before. He'd lost people on cases. Victims, unsubs, bystanders, and family members who didn't stand a chance at recovering from their own loss. He'd lost Maeve, which was a little too similar to his current circumstances to think about too hard. He'd been losing his mother since he was born, and he'd really lost her again a few months ago. He'd lost Gideon. He'd lost Elle, too, before that. He'd lost Emily, and though she'd come back too, it wasn't the same. He'd lost Morgan, and then Hotch. He'd lost Alex Blake.

He'd lost nearly everyone in his life. Some of them had come back, most of them hadn't. 

He'd thought himself immune to the pain of losing someone at last. 

He'd certainly lost enough of himself in prison. 

It may have only been 84 days, but whatever was left in him of hope before was gone. He'd emerged completely empty. 

He supposed that's why he'd accepted the role at the university. There was nothing left for him to give to the BAU, but he couldn't be the one to leave. 

As it was, he'd already been unsettled enough by leaving you behind when he'd finished up his time there. 

It felt weird to him, saying goodbye. Not that he'd actually said goodbye. He'd kissed your forehead as he slipped out of your bed, sure, but you'd been neither conscious, nor fond of him in anyway. It was a parting gesture just for him  and he hadn't been quite sure why he'd done it. 

It was just a gesture and one he'd repeated multiple times after getting you back. You didn't know, of course. How could you? 

He'd either woken up before you and kissed your forehead, or climbed into bed beside you late at night and greeted you then. 

You'd lain side by side, drifting to sleep slowly, when he realized it had become a daily habit. 

He hadn't any idea of what he'd do when you left. 

And now you had. And it was his fault. 

In the eight days since you'd been kidnapped, Spencer had come to terms with a few facts.

He knew 64,956 women were currently declared missing in the United States. He knew that 77% of adults reported missing were found in 24 hours. You weren't. He knew 4% were found in 48 hours. You weren't. Only 3% were usually missing still after a week. 

You were somehow in that small minority, even though there was an entire team of FBI agents working around the clock to find you. 

He'd had faith in his coworkers before. Before, he'd begged for their help, and they'd succeeded in 24 hours, even if the outcome wasn't preferable. 

This time, he didn't beg. He had no faith. He just hoped to be present with a gun, loaded with two bullets, if this time went the way of the last. 

On the eighth day after your abduction, Spencer finally returned home.

The damage from your abduction was still apparent. 

Not that your captor had left many clues. In fact, they'd left none. Not even a fingerprint or a good angle on the CCTV. But he hadn't taken returning to an empty apartment well.

He slashed through the crime scene tape quickly, letting in hang in the doorway as he entered. The bookshelves he'd attacked were limping, leaning on each other for support after he'd ripped books off so violently he'd set them askew. 

He'd kicked and ripped and punched the wall so hard he'd needed stitches that he'd absolutely refused to get. 

He'd cried and sobbed into his bloodied and bruised hands until Emily had arrived, and then he'd cried some more, leaning on his friend, his sister, for her support. 

Returning now, there wasn't a single tear left.

In the hospital, they'd addressed his flesh wounds, but the emotional ones would never hear. 

You were gone. And now there was only a 3% chance he'd ever see you again. 

Emily hadn't allowed him to stick around to make their jobs harder. She's placed him on house arrest - funnily enough, her house, where you should've been if he wasn't such a selfish ass - and assigned a watch. 

She’d said it was for protection, but what she'd meant was it was to protect him from himself.

The rest of the team had avoided the topic entirely. They didn't know how to deal with whatever stage of grief he was going through. Many of them had comforted him the first time. They didn't know how to do it a second. They didn't know if they could. 

After eight days, Spencer had left Emily’s apartment. He'd dodged the Agent she'd stationed alongside him, got into a taxi, and gone home. 

Surveying the damage, he was surprised how deep the hurt had already cut to not feel much anymore. 

He looked at the books splayed on the floor. It was a title that you'd been reading that week. One he remembered you using at the office, one that had been on both of your courses reading lists. He picked each of them up and put them back on the shelf. He righted each shelf and organised them neatly, how he thought you'd like them. 

He picked pillows up and rearranged them. He vacuumed the debris from the floor, the thin layer of dust that had gathered since he'd left, the splinters pf bookcase that had crumbled off, the shards of wall that were speckled with his blood. 

He wept the entire time, though silent, until there were no tears left to cry. 

Then he'd come across a tiny package underneath his coffee table, a single corner of plastic peaking out, begging for attention. 

He'd picked it up and wept again as he found depths of sadness to reach further down than what he'd assumed to be rock bottom. 

Aa he lay in a pool of his own despair, a new, haunting fact crashed from his brain to his heart. Since 1987, there had been 21 foetal abductions in the USA. 19 of them had ended in homicide, with the mother dying. 

You made 22. 

In the two months since you'd been abducted, you'd learned three things. 

The first was that you absolutely loved Spencer Reid. You'd spent enough time sitting introspectively about everything in your life to realize you had to stop being so stubborn and admit just that. You'd been about there before all of this, but now you knew for sure. 

You should be cursing the man that inspired your horror show of a life, after all. But instead, you thought about him and held back tears. 

She gave you updates these days, testing your reactions to his name, waiting to see you crack, to see you cry, and sob and break down completely. 

Today, Spencer had been to see his mother, she said. He'd broken down in her arms and caused her to have an episode. She'd hit him so hard, his face had already been bruised by the time she saw him. 

The second thing you knew was that your baby was going to be born healthy. You had no plans of having a home birth, but now, at seven months pregnant, and large enough that you almost thought about doing your conception math again, you knew you were on track for giving birth in the room you'd been in for the last 58 days. 

You hadn't counted. 

She’d been good enough to tell you the date, the day, and her plans every morning when she visited you. She checked your vitals, your blood pressure, the position of the baby, your temperature, your heart rate, and recorded everything in her chart. She asked you how the pregnancy was going, almost as if she was the nurse she'd been training to be. 

Her bedside manner was so good some days. You forgot entirely that you were tied down to the bed, ankle clamped down. 

She let you walk for an hour a day, but recommended bedrest after that for health reasons. You didn't complain or talk back because she didn't like that. 

She let you read, and she was even curious about your reading, asking you questions and taking notes as if this were just part of her regular college schedule, an office hour that had taken over her life. 

You shuddered sometimes as she stared up at you with those big eyes, so wide, and young, and naive, and full of hatred, and evil, and you wanted to claw them out and scream for help, and stab her with the pencil she wrote notes with, and stab, and stab, and stab, and-

The third thing you knew was that you'd never hold your baby in your arms because you'd be dead moments after they breathed their first breath.

You knew, because she had told you as much everyday since you'd woken up. 

In two months, Spencer had become more manic and self-destructive than he'd ever been in his entire life. 

His world centred around you, and finding you, even as his 3% slipped to 1%, slipped to 0.1%, and he knew deep inside that he'd never see you again. 

He hadn't returned to the BAU but had instead turned his home into an investigation room, emptying the walls so he could pin up information, evidence, pictures of you, everything he could find. It wasn't that he'd regained hope, but he'd grown so desperate that he suddenly gripped hard onto the only slither of it that he had left and refused to drop it. He was a dog that didn't know the game of fetch only conti he'd if he dropped the ball. His life would not go on without you.

So he searched. He knew how far along you were. He knew how far along a woman had to be for a c section, professionally performed or not. 

He barricaded himself into his house and paced for days as his friends pounded down his door. He let none in. He didn't go out. He wasn't sure what he ate, or drank, or if he slept, but he knew he paced, and he thought, and he came up with theories. 

After two months, Emily was tired of knocking. 

“Spencer Reid, I am coming in,” she shouted from behind the door. 

He usually ignored her. She couldn't pass the bookshelves he'd moved in front of the door anyway, even if his superintendent had given her a key. 

This time though, he heard a banging, a creak and a crash as the bookshelves went down and Emily, who had left him and returned, made her way inside his apartment. 

“You barricaded the door?” she said, looking at him. 

He took a shaky breath and tried to answer as she surveyed his apartment, the mess of papers, books, string on the wall. He saw her stare down at the pile of sheets on the floor where he'd been sleeping, the bag of your things he had dragged to be closer to him. 

He saw her look at the baby shoes, and baby grows he'd laid out neatly on the floor, and he saw the pitying look she turned on him. 

“She's pregnant,” he finally said out loud, though you must've been 7 months along by then. “I'm going to be a father.”

“Spencer,” Emily said, grasping his hand, voice cracking from the strain of emotion that coated her tongue, making her voice thick. “You would've been an amazing father.” 

“No. No-” he said, breaking away and moving back to his wall. “No past tense, I won't let you… I won't let you give up on them.” 

“It's been two months.” 

“So she's only seven months pregnant. I have two more months to find her, Emily. Two more. At least allow me that.” 

The tears in his eyes streamed freely now as she nodded. 

“We will…. you know we'll help you. We'll do everything we can, so come to the office.” 

He didn't want to give up his space. His reminders of you, the baby grows, the information he'd gathered.

Equally, he didn't like Emily being in this space. She thought you were already dead, and he couldn't even look her in the eye. 

Reluctantly, he nodded, lifting himself up on legs weakened by insurmountable grief, and he followed her to Quantico. 

By the end of your third trimester, you wondered how you could ever have gotten so big. When you gave birth, the child inside of you would only be the size of a small pumpkin. You felt like you'd swallowed five regular size pumpkins whole, and you felt you were still expanding. 

The point worried her. She'd broken two glasses in tantrums this last week alone, measuring you every day. 

The closer you got to birth, the more agitated she grew. 

“This demon inside of you is going to kill you. I won't even have to do it myself,” she'd whispered to herself, or to you, as she took your vitals that morning. 

“Please don't say that.” 

“Why not? You're a whore, and you're going to give birth to a devil. You have seduced my soul mate, because you are a jezebel and the Lord is punishing you.” 

You'd needed all the strength you could get for these conversations. Even one tear, and she'd erupt and put a knife at your neck. With only a few weeks left, there was no saying whether she'd speed her plan along. 

“I did not seduce your soul mate,” you said as calmly as you could muster, taking deep breaths, hoping that she would mirror them and calm down. 

“Do we have to watch the fucking video again?” she spat at you, stomping around to the side of your bed and pulling out her phone. She queued up the video quickly and you averted your eyes. 

She turned them back quickly, holding your head in place as she forced you to watch your own office space. She showed you the videos of you and Spencer talking, teasing each other. She showed you the video of you insisting you were not attractive to him. She showed you the video of Spencer fucking you on the sofa, though she screamed and cut her fingernails into her skin the entire way through. 

She even showed you the video of her attempting to seduce Spencer during their office hour. It was the first video in her collection, the first time she'd set up the camera. She used your entrance as proof that you were breaking her apart from her soul mate. From Spencer. 

You were a whore who had thrown herself at him in anyway you could, and you had trapped him with a baby. 

She was going to free him from all responsibility so he could be with her. 

“My baby will be your devil,” she said as the video ended, and you forced your heart to settle. 

“It is not your baby.”

“Spencer won't know that. He doesn't know it's your baby either, and who are the authorities going to believe when I show up with his child. One paternity test later, and I'll have him, and we can be a happy family together, and we can live happily. I'll take in your devil  and raise it as my own, and we'll forget about the whore who almost ruined it all.”

The psychosis was so clearly written on her face, you were surprised no one had caught onto her state yet. She was devolving. She'd been calm, and contemplative the first week. She'd laid out her plans still, her insane plans, and seemed somewhat coherent. 

Then she'd began rambling about the devil and soul mates, and you'd pitied her, even in your fear. 

Now you were just glad she counted your office tryst as your conception date, and you'd never corrected her. 

She still believed there was a month left until your death. You knew it was days. 

You just prayed your baby could buy you some time.

“Professor?” she said as she carried away the tray of items she'd checked your vitals with

“Yes.” 

“You are not in love with Spencer Reid,” she said, as if trying to convince you. 

“No,” you said, trying to convince yourself  though it was hopeless. “I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The first lead in the case came on your due date. Patient confidentiality was, happily, overlooked by a few doctors when he pressed the issue, needing to know until when he was counting down. 

He'd done the rough math himself, but he needed a professional opinion. 

The lead came in the form of an email. The university was cleaning out your office to make way for a new professor, despite his insistence that you'd return, and they needed him to collect things. 

And though he knew you'd be giving birth that day, and he had run out of time, something compelled him to go and do this menial task on today of all days. 

Luke had joined him, and then so had JJ and Emily, and Penelope and Tara. Rossi had even arrived to watch you pile books into boxes that were supposed to have lived on these shelves for a long career. Everyone in the room was so busy watching him, waiting for him to crack, that it had to be him to find it. 

At first, he thought it was a hole in the couch. It was so dark and black, its curved corners giving the illusion of introversion. Then he'd touched it and felt the rough bump. 

“Penelope, here, now,” he breathed out, gasping for air as he finally pulled the tiny spy camera free and thrust it into his friends hands. 

He had a lead. He had you now. 

The first hour of labour was inconvenient only because you weren't alone. She'd been tending to you all morning, fussing over your food, trying to maintain the right amount of prenatal vitamins as she usually did, but she'd ran out of two bottles, and the pharmacy wasn't open. 

You sat still and uncomfortable, trying to not even flinch as your water broke, too afraid of death to be thinking about the life you were bringing into this world. 

The second hour ticked by much the same until she left. 

The third came, and you ceased your screams of pain, even as your hands bore holes into your sheets. She returned, and you knew there wasn't much longer until she knew. 

By hour four, she had your legs spread and was watching you deliver your baby, and you knew the same blade that would sever your umbilical cord would also end your life. 

By hour five, you were so delirious with pain that you thought you saw Spencer. You heard his voice cooing to you as you pushed. You felt his hands wipe away your sweat, smooth the hair from your eyes. You heard his voice announce your daughters birth, and you felt his lips against your skin as you finally gave up fighting and drifted into oblivion. 

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

ix. i'm so sick of running as fast as i can

— the one where they painted you out to be bad (so it's okay that you're mad).

warnings: fair warning you're going to be pissed, foul language, this one has more media between text and it's a little long. 2.3k words (+articles and a very long youtube thing!!)

currently playing: it's time to go by taylor swift!

masterlist ✢ next

By Alana Blake

YOU read it here first, friends. #YNCHARLES is still going strong even after the mess y/n found herself in during the Spanish Grand Prix weekend.

Rumor had it that after y/n's declarations where she said 'it was not serious' and 'she was just having fun', the Monegasque heartthrob dumped her immediately. This was fueled by the fact that we didn't see any pictures of them together during such weekend.

But sources have come to the rescue, letting us all know they're not broken up! "They talk every day for hours," our source said, "Both are still trying to keep it fun but more lowkey after everyone found out about the cheating."

RELATED: Victoria Presley's top five beauty hacks.

You would think that after a partner refers to you as a 'toy', dumping them is the best course of action, but apparently that doesn't apply to Mr. Leclerc who has "nothing but good things to say about y/n".

"He's excited to see her in New York before the Canada Grand Prix, they have it all planned out since she has her apartment back." The source added.

One thing is for sure, if we see y/n at the next Grand Prix, that's the big confirmation that they are together, since they blew their Elix cover by forcing them to end the contract.

SEE ALSO:

→ Victoria Presley's inauguration after party at the Grand Havana Room, you just had to be there.

→ Taylor Swift defends y/n y/ln: ''All of you have learned nothing!"

→ Aidan Kim on Charles Leclerc: "Never heard of him until my girlfriend cheated on me"

𝙂𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝘼𝙔? 𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒!

You're seeing the top comments.

Anonymous – 4 hr ago

They're both so shameless! and charles was liking tweets saying they were friends like he could really trick us.

kollhha – 3 hr ago

I hate her, Charles dump her ass for the love of god.

adriennewells – 40 min ago

no but seriously what is it about y/n that has men brainwashed?

Anonymous – 10 min ago

They WOULD be cute together, i don't think they're dating though.

June 10th, Los Angeles, California

You fit your life for the past months into two suitcases, and a carry on. Your room at Vic's house is messy and it feels strangely empty without your discarded shoes and dirty laundry on the floor. But it's time to go, you cannot impose your presence in this enormous house anymore. You have felt like an intruder since you started traveling to Formula 1 and coming back every week like this is your hotel and not your best friend's home.

"Are you really going back to New York?" Vic asks from behind you, voice low with sadness.

"Yes, Vic, I have to." you sigh, turning to meet her. She's dressed up in her fucsia workout gear, holding a light ring in her left hand and her phone in the right. Your flight leaves in the evening and you were hoping to have a meal with Vic before parting to the airport, but it looks like she's all booked.

"No you don't," she argues, entering the room. "Hollywood is here, y/n why do you need to go back to New York? You're an actress!"

You feel like a lot of things, except for an actress right now.

"I don't think Hollywood wants me right now, Vic," you say, going back to the unmade bed to lie down. You asked the cleaning lady if she could leave your room for last so you could finish picking your stuff up, and she agreed gently. "Plus, I really miss New York."

"y/n you haven't even visited my store, you can't go!" Vic's tone changes in octave, and it's not her whiny 'please don't do this' tone you're so used to. "I asked you for ONE favor and you're running to New York and you can't do even just that?"

"Woah, Vic, what the fuck?" you use your elbows as support to lean up and look at her. "Calm down. It's okay." you know her tantrum comes from the fact that she truly believes you could boost her beauty line sales and make her store a 'hot spot'. And it would work, for the wrong reasons. You don't want Vic being dragged down into this mess too. Mati and Charles are enough casualties.

"NO IT'S NOT!" Victoria is full-on yelling now, the light ring has been tossed aside. "I have given everything you've asked from me in the past months since your life started falling apart. I think I deserve something in return."

You ignore the bite of her words. She's angry, which is understandable to some level. She doesn't mean it, right? That she always expected something in return.

"Vic, listen, I know how important your store is to you. But I promise you, you don't want the attention I'm bringing to anyone close to me right now."

"Oh, so you're doing this for my own good now?" she scoffs, ponytail flying in the air as she turns around. "Are you fucking Charles Leclerc for his own good too? Or do men's reputations don't matter?" she spits.

You halt completely, halfway out of the mattress. "What did you say?"

"Oh, please y/n. You really want me to believe you don't want to be seen with me to 'protect me'" she throws the quotations in the air, "And yet you went on your pretty vacation with that bitch Matilde, and you talk to fucking Charles Leclerc every day!"

"Victoria, stop," your brain is a mix of anger, sadness and confusion. You’re having trouble catching up to the where the conversation is going. "That was different, Vic. In case you haven't noticed, things can't stop getting worse. My life is not good right now." You choke on the last words, because it's the first time you say such things out loud. You have never been more miserable.

Victoria scoffs yet again, and it’s a tear in your heart. She's really not backing off. "Of course your life isn't good y/n wah, wah. You have money and beauty and a pilot boyfriend, it sucks so much to be you!"

"Why are you so bothered about it? Why is Charles the main problem here?" you wipe the tears from your cheeks, scratching the skin with one of your rings. "Why the fuck are you acting like this?"

Everything was alright this morning at breakfast, when you reminded her you were leaving and your luggage was almost done. When you thanked her for taking you in and told her you could never really repay her support.

"Because you get everything you want all the time!" Victoria stomps to you, her face inches away when she stops. "You always get what you want no matter what. It didn't even matter that I said you view him as a fucking piece of meat! He still went after you."

The world moves in slow-motion as her words cascade on you. Your lungs close and your throat tightens again, and you want to fight the panic attack because you just know Victoria is not going to help you. How could she? If she's the one who betrayed you.

"How–Why–" you stutter, the hem of your shirt on your fist. You can fight this. "How could you do this to me?"

Victoria finally comes to the realization of what she let out, and covers her mouth. "y/n no– look–"

"Who told you about the ring?" your jaw is locked and you're trying not to lose focus. "How could you tell them about the ring?!"

"How could you not tell ME?! I'm your fucking best friend, you bitch!" she's raising her voice again, her surprise pushed aside because you're still fighting. "I had to find out through Aidan, months later."

The Cannes party. Of course.

You thought about asking her about it. Telling her it hurt you that she hung out so happily with Aidan when he was the reason you arrived at her house one night in February, frightened, sad, and confused. But you didn't because you trusted her. You would have trusted Victoria with your life at some point.

"It really is you, then," tears are streaming down your face again.

You feel stupid because only yesterday, in another rage-scroll through Twitter, you noticed people were already making theories about how it was Victoria who was selling information about you. And you felt so offended, how could they think your best friend would do that to you?

"How could you, Victoria? How could you make all that shit up?"

You talked to Victoria about the articles. You cried and told her you were sorry you didn’t let her in on the failed proposal, it was something you were still processing and couldn’t bring yourself to talk about, still wondering if it had been a mistake every now and then. You told her how sorry you felt to Charles because he just wanted to hang out with you—to be friends with you—and people marked him down as a home wrecker when he had nothing to do with it.

“It was definitely Mia though, wasn’t it?” She said as she rubbed your back and passed the box of tissues to you. “She always hated you, so weird. It was like she loved Aidan in a fucked up way.” Victoria even shuddered exaggeratedly, trying to make you laugh.

“Yeah I’m sure it was Mia, Aidan just won’t admit it.” You let her wipe your tears and smooth your hair down. Nobody could convince you that your ex-sister-in-law didn’t run to People and spewed shit. It was the most logical conclusion that Aidan was protecting his little sister.

This had been three days ago, she lied and made fun of you, to your face.

"So now I'm a liar? You are fucking Charles Leclerc! Or what, you expect me to believe all you do is hold hands and peck each other's cheeks?"

Again with Charles, it infuriates you.

"You told the press I'm a cheater! And I am NOT with Charles, God you're so stupid!"

"How would I know whether it's true or not? You never tell me anything anymore, do you? You don't care about me! I'm your best friend. I deserve to be your priority!"

"You deserve to rot in hell, you lying bitch." you don't even raise your voice anymore, "How could I ever love you?"

Victoria laughs, and your heart finally shatters. "I would do it again, y/n, because it's what you forced me to do."

The apartment is a mess, and you know it's on purpose. Your clothes are everywhere, the dirt from the plants you kept on the balcony is all over the floor, the coffee table is broken and your room looks like a hurricane passed through. Your coffee maker and your Specialty coffee both lie on the floor of the kitchen, and there is a horrible smell coming from the fridge. Aidan hasn't been gone long enough for things to rot to that extent, especially because every appliance is plugged in.

You don't want to look at the rest of the house, or your belongings. All you do is lean down to pick up your Moka pot, and make time to think, but you're unable to stand straight again. It's like the pain is pulling you down. How did your life become this?

A ruined apartment, a rejected engagement and a backstabbing best friend are things that happen in the movies. You would know. This wasn't supposed to happen to you.

Crying in that ruined kitchen, holding a Moka pot like it's your greatest treasure and not some piece of trash that you will never be able to use anymore, you get angry, furious. Because this is not your life and it was never supposed to be. And it's about time you start doing something about it.

You are sick of running. Of having people question you for not 'defending' yourself when you have no reason to be attacked in the first place. Relationships die, and yours had been past its time to be buried. Saying no is not a crime. And it never will be.

Victoria had burned her own thread with you in the worst way possible because you didn't make her the only person in your life. And you had overlooked every time you felt used by her, unloved, and tossed aside. Friends can break your heart too, and Victoria had ripped yours out of your chest.

Nobody has to tell you who you are, because you know. And you are nothing of what you've let tabloids, netizens and reporters say. You cannot keep running and you cannot keep hiding, and though you wish you had understood that earlier. It's never too late to pick yourself up.

Mildred and Walter are going to be pissed, but their advice was that you remained lowkey for however long it took Hollywood to get their next big scandal. Weeks, months, years.

And you're not about to scurry away into darkness like a rat.

FROM “JUST WATCH THIS” POSTED IN Y/N Y/LN'S YOUTUBE CHANNEL POSTED JUNE 12TH

[y/n,minute 01:30]: ❝...So I've finally decided to come here and tell you everything that has been happening for the past months. It's the truth, but whether you believe it is a personal choice.❞

[y/n,minute 05:56]: ❝It was a three-year dead-end relationship. You cannot, and should not, have a future with someone who laughs at your dreams, and tells you how you should behave and how to look to exalt him.❞

[y/n, minute 07:15]: ❝I said no. And I have not regret it for one second. I didn't tell anyone because I respect Aidan, although I don't think that is reciprocal by now.❞

[y/n, minute 10:01]: ❝I never cheated on him, and I know the source of those rumors. It breaks my heart to know that someone I trusted made up stuff about myself, and a part of my life that was so important to me. I am not telling you who it was, however, I will take legal action against them if the defamation continues.❞

[y/n, minute 14:54]: ❝Aidan decided to tell this person about our failed engagement, and I do not know if his intention was that this all became public. But I wish he'd been mature enough to handle it privately, like the adults we both are.❞

[y/n, minute 16:59]: ❝I started attending Formula 1 races because of an Ambassador contract I held with Elix until three days ago, when they decided to rescind it.❞

[y/n, minute 18:07]: ❝That's where I met both Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, back in April. Since they are the drivers for Ferrari, we spent a lot of time in the same place, which led to us becoming friends.❞

[y/n, minute 19:04]: ❝Charles Leclerc is my friend and we are not romantically involved, I urge you to stop making stuff up about him too. He never messed with my past relationship, we did not know each other.❞

[y/n, minute 21:55]: ❝When all of this started, I believed—naively— that it could just die down on its own. I am an actress. I was not only 'Aidan Kim's girlfiend' and I am not only his ex-girlfriend now. I am y/n y/ln.❞

[y/n, minute 23:31]: ❝I should have spoken sooner. I should have shut everything down the moment I started feel miserable and out of control. But I also know, I was being crucified so badly because I am a woman.❞

[y/n, minute 26:00]: ❝You have made me feel miserable and anxious, I have suffered from panic attacks and sleepless nights. And I'm not saying this to make you all feel bad and regretful, because the one thing you lack the most is empathy.❞

[y/n, minute 28:45]: ❝But I want you all to think that, if it had been the other way around and Aidan hadn't wanted to marry me, you would have said 'he wasn't ready' and you would have let him move on and find "The One" in peace.❞

[y/n, minute 31:35]: ❝If it was Timothee Chalamet—whom I also have a deep appreciation for—doing RomComs and nothing more, you would call it 'his specialty' and never question his talent.❞

[y/n, minute 33:17]: ❝If I was a man, this wouldn't have killed my reputation.❞

[y/n, minute 36:21]: ❝I will not remain quiet anymore while you step on me and diminish my work. I do not owe anything to Aidan Kim except for the drama the past months have brought me.❞

[y/n, minute 38:11]: ❝I'm going to focus on the future. And I am well aware this will be continue to be a topic of conversation, but I am not scared anymore. Because I know who I am and who I can count on.❞

[y/n, minute 40:12]: ❝If it weren't for my fans, who have been fighting my battles so hard, I wouldn't be here either. They're here for me, and I can never repay such pure love.❞

[y/n, minute 42:22]: ❝If you watched up to here, I'm sure you're wondering whether you should believe all of this, and like I said, it's all up to you❞

[y/n, minute 44:50]: ❝I will not be speaking about Aidan Kim again, so I ask you to refrain from asking about him. It's all been said and done, and I'm eager to move on.❞

[END]

You are looking at the all the comments.

aidanbabes WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH EVEN ON

flowerbedkim Oh so now Aidan forced her to be with him? Bullshit. You are never saving your lying ass y/n, fuck you!!!!!

thatbitch123 You are absolutely right y/n if you were a man this wouldn’t have happened it's so sad

ynbabes2 my queen i waited for you to speak for so long!!! WE HAVE TO MOVE ON FROM THIS

leclercstar you all have made this girl's life absolute hell, i hope you never find peace!! I'm glad she's friends with Charles and Carlos.

presleyvibes wait and you thank people but not Vic who let you stay at her house? you're an ungrateful bitch

albstappen I saw her pic with Lily Muni and I just knew she was one of the good ones

ynmybeloved EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST YN SHALL FALL

kim41d4an IT'S YOUR WORD AGAINST AIDAN'S YOU CHEATING WHORE

June 12th, SoHo, New York.

You are trying to clean the mess around you as best you can. And although you could call someone to help you, sweeping and scrubbing keeps you busy and distracted. The first message you received after posting the video was from Mati a 'proud of you xx, tell me all about it later please!' text that made you take your first deep breath of the afternoon. You made an appointment with a doctor first thing in the morning, you want the panic to go away, you need it to.

Thoughts of how they're destroying you again, calling you a liar and a whore, swarm your brain and you try to toss them in the trash along with your ruined Dolce & Gabbana coat, mysteriously cut up with scissors. You told the truth, and not even the whole of it.

The video is being shown everywhere, you're sure you'll see it tomorrow in Good Morning America where they'll dissect every single move you make and every word that comes out of your mouth.

It's almost 9 pm when you finally stop wiping the apartment down, trying to get rid of every sign that Aidan Kim was ever inside it. It's not true that he paid for the apartment, you picked it yourself and made it a home and then he chose to come and live here, paying the rent once every three to five months. This is your home and you are reclaiming it.

Your phone rings and you take another deep breath before picking it up. Mildred and Walter have resorted to communicate with you through email, so you wonder who it is. Victoria called a few times during the weekend, left voicemails and text messages until you blocked her. Each of them with a new excuse and a more creative way to pin all of what she had done, on you.

It's a FaceTime call from Charles.

"Charlie!" you greet with a smile, before the image of him loads completely. "It's 3 am in Monaco, what the hell are you doing awake?"

Charles shrugs and you notice his bare shoulders, he's shirtless. You're suddenly self-conscious about the way you look. With your hair sticking up from the sweat, your greasy face and ragged shirt. It's a silly worry.

"I wanted to talk to you," he says, and you know he's tired. "I saw your video earlier, but I was doing something else."

"Oh, you saw that."

"I'm proud of you y/n, you are brave for speaking your mind like that. I know it must have taken some effort." Charles moves again and you see his chest, he's already in bed.

"Charles, go to sleep, we can talk about this later," you chuckle, heat is rising to your face.

"I wanted to see you y/n, it doesn't matter what time it is. And I really wanted to tell you I'm glad you posted that video."

"Thank you, Charlie. I should have done it sooner."

"The only one who knows what timing is right for you, is yourself."

"Yeah, I guess so." you sigh, you're exhausted too and you blame it more on the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through than deep cleaning your apartment.

"Are you tired?" he asks, suppressing a yawn.

"No more than you," you retort, but can't help yawning as well. It's a scientific fact that yawns are contagious. "Go to sleep, we can talk tomorrow."

You talked yesterday too, and the day before, and you cried so much on the phone again you thought he would eventually hang up until you calmed down. But Charles soothed you through the phone at 1 am Monaco time and told you to let it all out, and listened without interrupting you once how you called Aidan and Victoria every name in the book.

"Fine," Charles says, rubbing his left eye carelessly. "Will you give me a tour of your apartment tomorrow, then?"

"Yes! I finished cleaning it today!"

Charles laughs softly at your excitement. “We’ll talk tomorrow then, just because you need to sleep.”

“Sure I am the sleepy one,” you roll your eyes and Charles smiles, both dimples showing. “Goodnight Charlie, sweet dreams.” The last part you say it in a slightly mocking tone but Charles doesn’t take it as such, smile widening.

“Goodnight soleil,” he says and waits a few seconds for you to react to your newly given nickname before hanging up, anxious but satisfied.

─── team principal radio: ❝thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and are liking the story so far. We're slowly getting to the y/n redemption. Once again, i really appreciate all of your interactions they mean the world to me. Also check out the series playlist if you haven't♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heeseung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @haziefairy @xjval @xoxoloverb @sainzleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxulaa @steephanie07 @anonymous8462 @tbisloneely @pukklv @bn7921 @be-your-coffee-pot @fdl305 @lovely-blackinnon @landonorizzz @ruleroftheuniverse @ivegotparticulartaste

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[wimbledon2008]

so i just finished the captive prince series about a week ago and am rereading it now. just finished the hello lover scene and honestly im still so confused over what's going on in laurent's head lmao like??

was he previously compartmentalizing his resentment so well that real feelings developed, but now he finally has a chance to truly let his anger out, he's locking down the positive feelings?

was he being truthful about manipulating damen the whole time (highly unlikely to me)? or was the cruelty in and of itself a play, either to push damen away despite not actually wanting to, or some other convoluted reason? bc damen really would have done anything he asked, trying to outmaneuver him like that was unnecessary.

my first theory feels the most right to me, and he just needed more time to process and purge his desire for revenge but idk im a taurus and very akielon coded. i love laurent but i do not understand that man lol

okay, disclaimer, i haven't read the books in quite some time so this probably isn't the fullest or deepest analysis. i welcome any additions or corrections from those who are better at meta than me <3

so the hello lover scene is incredibly complex and nuanced, a standard of pacat's writing that makes his works so infinitely re-readable. based on my personal understanding of the scene, there are a few key things that help to explain why laurent behaves the way he does in the tent scene:

1. laurent needs damen and the akielons to win against his uncle, which he very much wants to do. charcy didn't go how he'd originally planned, and he knows damen is pissed about it and probably thinks the worst of laurent right now - that he intentionally abandoned the akielons at charcy for his own purposes. so laurent is being manipulative; he is trying to outmaneuver damen. because what damen says is true: laurent has no allies, no friends, he's ruined his reputation by aligning himself with akielos, etc. we as the readers know that damen cares deeply for laurent and wouldn't just abandon him, and if laurent simply explained what happened and asked damen to help him, damen wouldn't hesitate to stay at his side. but laurent doesn't think damen has any reason to trust him, so laurent can't trust damen either. so instead of being honest, he chooses to be cold-blooded, to assert control over the situation and force damen's hand to ensure that the alliance he worked so hard to establish stays intact. he could've just asked, but this is laurent, and there are other factors at play, such as the fact that

2. laurent is already in love with damen by the tent scene, or at least most of the way there. but laurent can no longer pretend damen is anyone other than the person who killed his brother. damen walks into that tent as prince damianos, in full akielon regalia, covered in blood, with a sword. laurent has been doing some aggressive compartmentalizing, especially in order to have allowed himself to sleep with damen. who killed his brother, which was the inciting incident that made laurent's life a living hell. laurent has not forgiven damen for auguste, and he's having to really confront that hatred and anger for maybe the first time since the first book. and laurent is also punishing himself for caring for and sleeping with damen, his brother's killer. can you even imagine? it's better not to. laurent probably hates himself as much as he hates damianos in that moment. so he shoves all those glimmering, positive feelings down because he wants to hurt damen, and himself too. and none of this is particularly rational because

3. laurent is very upset at the beginning of king's rising. this is an understatement. he's still reeling from nicaise's death, which he blames himself for, he's losing damen, the only person he trusted, he was recently stabbed, and everything is spiraling out of his tightly held control. and when laurent is upset he's cruel. he's not at his best in the tent scene. he's clinging to his own self-preservation, and he's making it up as he goes along because whatever his original plan was got blown to hell, which is clear because he's saying shit that doesn't even make sense. see, e.g., this post about him allegedly enduring damen's "fumbling attentions" to win a battle he didn't even know about at the time. while laurent is being cold and ruthless to secure his position as best he can (see no. 1), he's also acting from a place of emotion instead of strict rationality, which is how he typically operates, and how he prefers to act. he's on the defensive, he's deeply confused and unable to cope with all of his conflicting feelings about damen, and he's lashing out - protecting himself before damen can hurt him first. and then damen literally sticks his thumb in his stab wound. basically: our boy laurent's going through it in a major way.

going back and re-reading your message i realize i've essentially just reiterated everything you initially said but with a lot of extra words. so i guess the long and short of it is: you're right. honestly there are so many ways to interpret the tent scene and everything else laurent says and does, which is what makes him so fascinating! so thanks for giving me the opportunity to dive back into his psyche for a little while <3

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Azul Ashengrotto of Royal Sword Academy || Chapter 26: Drifting Currents

Summary:

After visiting Savanaclaw's booth, Jamil and Azul head to Pomefiore's station in the Mirror Chamber and receive an ominous revelation.

Word Count: 6,046

Notes (more at the end):

For Day 3 of AshenViper Week 2024!

Prompt: Angst/Comfort

"Uh-uh-uh!" They hear a Savanaclaw member tut some kids nearby as they approach the ship. "This ain't gold you can touch and steal! I'll be sure to keep an eye on ya, and besides, these all lose their worth once ya take them out of our domain!"

The kids scamper after being scolded by the student.

Jamil and Azul walk inside the ship, where more treasure chests and plastic skeletons wearing pirate outfits decorated the decks.

"It's a little concerning that I can find inaccuracies in how these skeletons are depicted," Azul says with a hint of amusement. "Skeletons in real shipwrecks are discolored in some ways, and some even have barnacles growing on them. Those clothes definitely would look a lot more worn down and tattered. And if time has passed long enough for the corpses to become skeletons, the ship itself should not look this intact. You've seen an actual shipwreck just a few days ago; that had more cracks and algae everywhere."

"Oof, doesn't pass the Azul standard of shipwreck, I see," Jamil playfully whistles, lightly knocking onto the wood. "Still, not bad for something they apparently made out of scratch without any kind of magic. Any more detail than this and they'd actually have to go to the sea and pull corpses and ships outta the water."

"Oh, of course, it's quite impressive," Azul says sincerely. "Especially since it's all done without magic. I can see why Leona seems to be highly content with the results. Why did they decide to go for a pirate theme?"

"From what I remember, it was that guy's idea," he points to a tall and brawny fellow with silvery-gray wolf-like features, talking to other Savanaclaw members like a leader would. "He's one of this year's freshmen, which is impressive considering how high he seems to be in the pecking order. We can ask him. I think he's the one with the stamp, anyway."

They approach Jack Howl after he finishes giving instructions to his dormmates.

The freshman’s ears perk up at the sound of their footsteps and he turns to look at them.

"Hello," Azul greets. "The ship looks impressive."

Jack nods once. "Thank you. It was everyone's hard work that made this all possible." He looks at Jamil, then at Azul's RSA uniform and coat draped over his arm. "...Are you Azul Ashengrotto?"

"Yes, I'm guessing you know me from the quiz bee?" Azul says in good-natured amusement.

"Ah, no, I didn't get to watch that because I was doing some practice drills for Spelldrive." Jack glances at Jamil for a moment before returning his gaze to Azul. "I just heard that Jamil has a… friend, from RSA." He clears his throat, evidently feeling awkward. "Anyway, how's Scarabia's booth?" he asks Jamil. "I haven't had the chance to visit it yet."

"Crowded. I advise you not to visit there for now until the amount of visitors dwindle tonight," Jamil responds. In the meantime, it looks like someone's been blabbing about him and Azul... Ruggie, perhaps. There's a chance it came from rumors, but Jack doesn't strike him as a fellow who dabbles in gossip. "I see you guys are getting a lot of attention, too. You were the one who came up with the pirate theme, right? Azul here was asking why you chose it.”

Jack brightens at the question. "I read this pirate book back in elementary and I really liked the story, especially the lead character, Captain Mustache. I played pirate a lot as a kid, and I'm very familiar with their outfits and what their ships looked like. Prefect Leona said that it's perfect for our dorm to dress up as swashbucklers freely sailing the seas," he says proudly. "So that's what we decided on. We're dressed up as the ghosts of pirates who can't let go of their treasures, that's why the main prop aside from the ship are the many treasure chests scattered around."

As Jamil watches him ramble, he begins to understand what the other students mean when they say that Jack is adorable despite what first impressions might imply. He’s like a little puppy.

"It's certainly unique,” Azul says in interest. Ghost pirates aren't normally the go-to costume for people dressing up for Halloween, and those gold coins look incredibly realistic.”

"Ruggie helped us make them, he's really good at it," Jack explains. Then he sees Azul's booklet. "Oh, should I stamp that for you?" he holds up the stamp.

"Ah, yes, thank you," Azul hands it over.

"By the way, have you seen Malleus Draconia yet?" Jack asks as he returns the booklet after stamping it. "He was here earlier, looking for you. He said he thought you'd go here because of the coins. Not sure if I understood him correctly, though. He's a little intimidating, especially appearing out of nowhere like that…" he scratches the back of his neck.

"We just saw him outside, yes," Azul replies.

"Are you guys friends with Malleus now?" Jack furrows his eyebrows at Jamil.

"Nah. He’s friends with Malleus now," Jamil corrects him. "This guy's a walking magnet. Even Ruggie considers him a friend and we both know how that guy normally feels about friendships."

"Really? Whoa." Jack glances at Azul with wide eyes. "You must really be something to earn even Ruggie's respect. It's nice to meet you, sir. I hope you're enjoying the visit so far."

Azul blinks, then chuckles modestly. "No need to call me sir, I'm just in the same year as Jamil. It's nice to meet you as well. And yes, NRC is a wonderful place to visit especially during Halloween. I wouldn't be surprised if the visitors would only increase in number as Halloween draws closer." He turns to Jamil. "And why do you keep referring to me as a magnet?" he raises an eyebrow. "Malleus and I just happened to both be interested in relatively mundane things, and Ruggie is friends with you as well, isn't he?"

"You're a magnet because you got the Leeches, Rielle, the RSA students, my dorm members, Ruggie, that creep Hansel, Idia and Ortho and now Malleus expressing an interest in getting to know you better," Jamil points out to his boyfriend. "Face it, Azul. You're hot and smart and sweet. Who would be able to resist courting you?"

Azul's cheeks turn pink and his eyes widen slightly. "Th—That's— The entire RSA student body? Where did you even get that from? And Ortho and Idia are interested in continuing their booth, we just happened to be there. And how would Hansel even think I'm sweet? I was shelving knick knacks!" his voice has raised a little in volume because of how flustered he is.

"Um," Jack shifts on his feet. "I'm gonna go see if anyone else needs stamps. Excuse me," he scurries off.

Jamil hums in amusement, surprised but endeared to Azul's flustered side. "Oh, so you can at least admit you're smart and hot?"

Azul smiles playfully as he seems to be slowly recovering. "Well, I did defeat you in the quiz bee. And I don't seem to remember you courting me," he frowns, but his eyes are teasing.

Jamil chuckles. "My bad. We're doing a lot of things out of order, but I wouldn't mind courting you now and taking you out on a date, if that's what you want."

“That sounds lovely,” Azul smiles. “ We can wait until after Halloween, though. I wouldn’t want to take you away from your duties here.”

"My only duty right now is to show you around and let you have a good time." Jamil smoothly replies, before gesturing to his pamphlet. "You only have one location left to stamp: The Mirror Chamber, where Pomefiore's vampires await."

“Oh right, the famous Dark Mirror of NRC. Are you gonna introduce me?” Azul says playfully, referencing what Jamil had said at the ball about showing Azul to the Dark Mirror.

"And potentially get you sorted into NRC so that you don't have to ask permission from Headmage Ambrose to stay here? Yeah,” Jamil jokes.

He takes Azul out of the stadium and up into the main building of the campus. The majority of the visitors are taking their time seeing the sights around the outdoors, so there's not much of a crowd to push through around here.

As they make their way up the vast amount of corridors and paintings, they find a man with a blonde bob happily dragging a befuddled Trey around.

"I don't know about this, Rook… I really think it doesn't hurt to just skip it this year—"

"Non non !" the strange lad wags a finger at him. "Curiosité waits for nobody! Who knows what great surprises might greet us today! Hm?" He abruptly pauses, noticing Jamil and Azul.

Trey glances over and, relieved for a change of subject, waves them over. "Ah, hey again, you two. Heading to the Chamber now, I presume?"

“Yes, hello again,” Azul smiles, then looks at Rook. “Hello, I’m—”

“Azul Ashengrotto!” Rook says with delight. “L’amour de la vipère !”

Azul’s face reddens a bit at that remark, and he chuckles.

Jamil, knowing enough of the language to understand the phrase as well, awkwardly clears his throat.

“Let me just say that it is mon plaisir to have finally met you!” Rook shakes Azul’s hand enthusiastically. “I am Rook Hunt, Vice Prefect to the beautiful Vil Schoenheit,” he lets go of Azul’s hand and bows dramatically.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Azul smiles. “Where are you two headed?”

"To the lab, of course!" Rook replies, twirling in merriment. "I felt the siren's call of discovery beckoning me into its embrace! And since Le Chevalier des Roses here was available, I decided to let him join me on this adventure!"

Trey casts a glance at Jamil as if asking him for help.

"In the middle of Halloween?" Jamil asks Rook. "All club activities are practically suspended for Halloween Week."

"All NECESSARY club activities!" Rook emphasizes. "But this is no mandatory pursuit! This is an endeavor of PASSION! Of HEART!"

Azul blinks in surprise at the increasing volume of Rook’s voice. “The lab? Would you be conducting an experiment?”

"Oui ! C'est exact ! But the nature of the experiment is still unknown to me. I wish to discover it while we are there!"

"It's not exactly my ideal way of spending a break, though…" Trey mutters.

"Oh, um… Hello? Are you all students here?" a voice asks behind them, and they turn to see a regular-looking man—a visitor—confusedly holding a pamphlet in his hands. "Can you help me? I'm trying to look for the Mirror Chamber and um… I think I'm a little lost."

“We are just on our way over there, sir, you could come with us,” Azul smiles politely, then turns to Rook. “Perhaps you and Trey could join us as well? Maybe you can find inspiration for your experiment while we visit your booth.”

"Sounds like a great idea!" Trey immediately hops in, nodding.

"You make an excellent point!" Rook heartily agrees, easily one of the brightest NRC guys Azul must have ever laid eyes on. "Even though I was just there mere minutes ago, imagine all the new sights and sensations I must've missed while I was gone! Well then, let us tally forth! To the Mirror Chamber!"

The visitor seems to shrink at the presence of Rook’s strong personality, and he quietly follows Trey and Rook while Jamil lags a little behind.

“I’m surprised that NRC opened the Mirror Chamber to the public,” Azul tells Jamil as their little group walks along. “Do visitors get to speak to the Dark Mirror?”

"Oh, they can certainly try," Jamil chuckles. "Can't guarantee that the Mirror would talk back. It rarely even talks to us and the Headmage if it's not the entrance ceremony. And visitors don't usually have the power to do anything against it. Additionally, Pomefiore's keeping an eye on it the entire time it's open to the public, so it's in safe hands. Do you guys have a designated magical artifact of your own?"

“The Greatsword of Ambrose the First,” Azul replies with pride in his voice. “Legends say that the sword had been stuck halfway through a boulder for centuries. It was placed there by a powerful mage who had foreseen a great battle, one that could only be won by someone worthy enough to pull the sword from the stone. According to legend, an ancestor of Headmage Ambrose had easily pulled the sword free at a time of war, and he led the battle that saved their kingdom once and for all,” he speaks in a storyteller’s voice and ends it with a smile on his face.

“Headmage would never confirm nor deny the story to us, though,” Azul continues. “We don’t even know if he knows the truth of it at all. He would just smile and say he’s flattered that we can believe he’s descended from such a worthy warrior.”

"Humble as ever, I see." Jamil imagines a man resembling the current Ambrose wielding a legendary sword in a battlefield and finds it hard to believe. The RSA Headmage looks so gentle, it's hard to picture his ancestors ever engaging in combat.

But he’s also aware that those who look the most non-threatening often can be.

"What other cool rumors or legends do you guys have for your Headmage and his lineage?" Jamil asks Azul.

“Ah, there are a lot of legends about the Ambrose lineage,” Azul replies, in the tone of someone very familiar with such stories. “One legend says that an Ambrose had been the advisor of a noble king, and had helped the royal family through hardships both magical and common. Another tells the story of a spoiled crown prince who fell in love with a young Ambrose who was a commoner. At the time, magic was seen as evil, and anyone caught practicing it would be executed immediately, but the crown prince defended the mage even to his own father, and after countless times of them saving each other’s lives, the prince became king and married his love, and declared that magic isn’t a force of evil at all, but merely a tool that can be used with good and bad intentions. That second one is a favorite among RSA students,” Azul smiles. “It’s talked about at campfires and sleepovers, and some students even base their research papers on that legend in our literature subject.”

"Well... that's rather sweet," Jamil sincerely compliments. "I can see why it would be so popular in RSA. To think that your Headmage had such a rich history… And it looks like the current Ambrose is taking up the mantle of mentor and advisor again, but to young people now instead of kings. I hope this isn't too forward, but does he currently have a family of his own? I wonder if there's an Ambrose the 64th somewhere out there."

“I’m not sure, actually,” Azul says. “Headmage rarely talks about his personal life, and I don’t know if he ever got married or had children. Does your Headmage have any cool stories about his lineage?” he asks curiously.

Jamil frowns in deep thought, contemplating long and hard. "Huh. Honestly, I know nothing about him. I don't think you'll find many here who do. Our best bet might be the teachers or maybe Sam, but with Crowley being some kind of fey, he's most likely way older than they are. The ghosts might know something, though. They've probably been around for as long as him. But other than that... He's a mystery and we've never really thought about it. Too busy focusing on his administration's incompetencies and joking about how he ever became qualified as a Headmage when we should've been asking… is he actually qualified to be a Headmage?"

Azul chuckles. “Ah, I know even less about him so I’ll leave that question for you to answer. Oh, by the way, after we visit Pomefiore’s booth, I should let Rielle know of my plan to stay the night here again, we’ll both need to speak to Headmage Ambrose.”

"Hah, I can't imagine Rielle would want to go back to RSA anytime soon so I feel that you'll have another backer on your side for sure."

They eventually arrive at the Mirror Chamber, a grand and vast room with dark and gilded embellishments leading up to an elegant chandelier overhead, floating above the Mirror and a fountain. Floating signs of NO PHOTOGRAPHY are posted here and there and visitors are walking around and enjoying the space much more quietly than all the other locations they've visited.

"Welcome to the Mirror Chamber, the home of the fearsome rulers of the night: Vampires!" Rook loudly presents to the visitor and Azul. "In addition, this is where the most important ceremonies for Night Raven College take place, such as the entrance ceremony! This is where mere hatchlings have taken their first steps in a brave and brand new frontier of the mystic arts! This is where decades of…"

As Rook continues to ramble on, Jamil quietly leaves the conversation with Azul.

"So? What do you think?" he asks him. "As fancy as NRC can get, this place feels even more so. And here's a secret—it's also the least decorated. The only thing they added here are those No Photography signs."

“It is rather fancy,” Azul says, looking around at the chandelier and torches that hung on the walls but emitted no smoke. “Why did Pomefiore decide to set up here? Though it does look like the perfect vampire abode. It reminds me of those modern vampires in films that live in manors and palaces and drink blood from wineglasses.”

"B-Because…!" one of the Pomefiore students nearby speaks, dressed in the vampiric flowing black cape and suit of his dorm. Despite his attire, he looks far from fearsome, with big blue eyes, a baby face, and soft lavender curls framing his cheeks. He hesitates, looking like he spoke up because he happened to know the answer but wasn't actually prepared to be acknowledged. Then he continues.

"Prefect Vil says that despite the power and influence and wealth a vampire boasts, one of its true weaknesses is its inability to see its reflection, which is um… a very bad thing for us in Pomefiore, apparently. So the idea behind choosing this is that, not only does this venue match our 'elegant allure', but it paints a picture of us vampires surrounding an object of desire we can never really obtain…" He shuffles awkwardly. "Um… Yeah. Hope that made sense somehow. Vil explained it better, hah…" he smiles sheepishly.

“It makes perfect sense, thank you,” Azul says with an encouraging smile. “It’s quite poetic, actually. Nothing less from Vil Schoenheit.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool, I guess,” the lavender-haired boy says. “Wait, yer– Ah, you’re from RSA, right? Looks like it’s true…” he mumbles, looking from Azul to Jamil. Then he clears his throat. “Anyway, welcome to our booth. If you have more questions, feel free to ask any of us in costume. And if you’re waiting to meet Vil, he will be here in a few moments,”  he says, sounding like he memorized those lines.

Boy, it looks like gossip about him and Azul being together really travels fast…

"How are things here, er… Epel, right?” Jamil decides to say before the Pomefiore student thinks to ask about any rumors about them. “Did the Dark Mirror finally crack a line or even show up at any point?"

"Um… no, I don't think so. At least... not while I was here,” Epel mutters, glancing at the artifact floating silently in the middle of the area. "The loudest thing we had all day was Rook bursting in just now. Are you guys gonna wait for Vil? A lot of these guests are."

Jamil has started glancing around. "We could be, but I'm also looking for… Aha." He grins when he spots Hansel in the distance. "Look at him diligently doing his job. Wanna see if he gets all tongue-tied around you, Azul?" he asks with a smirk.

Azul chuckles. "Why not? Let's see if your spell still has its effect. Excuse us,” he says to Epel.

They approach Hansel just as he finishes talking to a small group of visitors.

"Hello again," Azul says after the visitors have walked away to roam around.

"Azul," Hansel flashes a smile. "You're finally here."

Azul glances at Jamil with a subtle look of curiosity.

Jamil squints at him, cautious and tense now that he sees that Hansel doesn't look affected by his hypnosis. But he also doesn't seem to remember what Jamil did to him at all.

He crosses his arms, unhappy that his presence hasn't been acknowledged even once despite standing right next to Azul. He gestures for Azul to respond since Hansel only addressed him.

"Your booth seems to be doing well," Azul says.

"Of course," Hansel says smugly. "Pomefiore provides only the best."

"Did you help in conceptualizing your theme?" Azul asks, absently shifting the coat draped on his arm so he can roll up his shirt sleeves again that have ridden down from all their walking around, folding the cuffs just below his elbow.

Jamil doesn't miss how Hansel's gaze travels to Azul's flexing arms and over his torso.

"I—" Hansel's voice cuts off, and a look of confusion appears on his face. He opens his mouth again but only strained sounds come out. His eyes widen in panic and he runs out of the Mirror Chamber.

Azul stares after him with raised eyebrows. "Looks like it worked after all," he says to Jamil. "Why didn't it seem to work at first?" he furrows his eyebrows, as if trying to remember what Jamil said when he had cast the spell.

Jamil feels a smug sense of superiority and relief wash over him as Hansel runs off. He glances down at Azul's arms and makes a thoughtful hum. "Who would've thought that he doesn't think dirty all the time? That was a pleasant surprise to learn about." And so he confidently extends his own arm out for Azul to take. "Well then, with that little distraction out of the way, shall we go introduce you to the Mirror before we look for that stampholder?"

“Of course,” Azul smiles and takes Jamil's arm. "How long does your Signature Spell last on an individual?" he asks curiously.

Jamil drops his voice low to a mutter so he's not easily heard by anyone else, especially with Rook in the room. "Active control stays as long as I can keep concentration over it. The duller the mind, the easier. Lingering effects like what Han has, however..." he shoots the door a wry grin. "...is indefinite, since it's a more passive effect. I'd imagine it's going to last for a few days to a few weeks at most, depending on how determined he is to break through it."

"The condition is he'd get tongue-tied whenever he'd think inappropriate thoughts while looking at me specifically, right?" Azul recalls. "What if he doesn't see me at all during the next few days? The spell won't be activated then. Would it disappear sooner in such a case?" Azul has a curious look about him, a twinkling in his eyes, and Jamil wonders if he's always like that when being a nerd about something.

He can't deny that a part of him feels really pleased to see Azul so taken with interest over his abilities. His wondrous gaze has Jamil's heart doing giddy flips of pride.

"I'm not sure, since I've never actually tested it like that before,” he admits. "But I imagine that the spell's effect would simply remain dormant instead of fading away because he'd remember and remind himself of the moment he couldn't talk to you, and that thought and worry alone will be powerful enough to keep the effect alive. At least, that's what I think."

Azul nods thoughtfully. "I must admit, I didn't expect you to react in such a way about Hansel. Have you ever used your Signature Spell for anyone else before?" he asks as they walk back to Epel and stand in front of the still dormant Dark Mirror.

"I… have," Jamil falls a little quiet. "Mostly to get out of trouble, though. Nothing serious." He feels a part of himself wither a little at the memories of him coming close to using it against Kalim multiple times, knowing how easy the other would fold for him. "And Hansel was being forceful with his advancements. There was no way I could just stand to the side and let it happen. In fact, perhaps I should modify my hypnosis to make him tongue-tied and awkward when he thinks inappropriate thoughts about anyone ever."

His line of thinking is cut off when they hear a gasp. The lost visitor from earlier has bumped into Vil, and when he reacts in surprise, the entire crowd glances over and swarms towards them in excitement. Looking like he was expecting this, Vil smiles at the visitors' adoration and welcomes them all in kind.

Someone mentioned taking pictures, only to remember that they're not allowed to do so within the room. Vil then offers to take the meet and greet outside so that they can take pictures with him. Soon enough, like a flock of sheep, the crowd—along with Rook, Trey, and a few other Pomefiore vampires—follow the celebrity out until it's just Azul, Jamil, and Epel inside.

The Pomefiore First Year sighs. "That's gonna— erm, that's going to be a daily occurrence around here.”

“It's not all that surprising considering Vil's status. It's more impressive that he doesn't seem to mind at all. He truly is a performer and entertainer through and through," Jamil comments.

A green glow emits from behind them, and a deep voice says. "The ocean's offspring. It's about time, young one."

The three of them startle and look around for the source of the sound.

To Jamil's shock, the face of the Dark Mirror has revealed itself to gaze down at Azul.

"Whoa..." Jamil breathes out. "Azul? Is it… talking to you?"

"Your presence has been sought after for a long time," the Dark Mirror’s voice solemnly booms, face as impassive as ever. "Have you decided to switch your allegiance and fully embrace the powers of darkness?"

"What in the—?" Epel exclaims. "What's going on here? The Mirror's never spoke up like this before."

Jamil's eyes widen and he stares at Azul, recalling their conversations about Azul's strange magic. "...It looks like my jokes might not be just that, after all."

Azul is staring wide-eyed at the Dark Mirror. "You… You know who I am?" he asks, his face bathed in the green glow coming from the mirror.

"The child who can tip the scales," the Dark Mirror continues in its even tone. "The current that moves back and forth. You stand in this abode of darkness draped in light."

For the first time since Jamil has known it, the face in the mirror seems to show the slightest hint of expression, a subtle narrowing of its eyes as it gauges Azul.

"You remain in the middle of the scales. What do you presume to achieve? Do you hope to continue on this path you insist on carving with your light forged in darkness?"

Jamil sees the fearful confusion on Azul's face, and he hurries over and pulls him away from the mirror's view.

"Hmph. Until you are ready to face me again, child." The Dark Mirror’s face vanishes into a burst of green flames, and the polished glass is now dark and quiet as if it had not awoken in centuries.

Azul is trembling against Jamil, his arms wrapped tightly around Jamil's shoulders. His coat had fallen to the floor.

"It's okay, you're okay," Jamil tells him, hugging him close. "We can talk about what happened, or forget it ever happened at all, okay?" He gives a look to Epel, who tenses up and mimics zipping up his lips.

Jamil can hear Azul trying to regulate his breathing, and he can't seem to form words at the moment.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Jamil whispers, rubbing Azul's back as soothingly as he can before he picks up Azul's coat and leads him back out into the corridors.

At first, there's a cacophony of noise since this is where Vil and the visitors have gathered, with Rook being pleasant to everyone and helping with crowd control so Vil doesn't get mobbed.

Jamil sticks to the sides and leads Azul up to an empty floor and a vacant classroom, where he lets Azul sit at a desk by the door.

"Stay here, all right? I'm gonna go and get you some water."

And so he did, all the while fixating on the Dark Mirror and its words.

To think that it recognized Azul of all people… calling him all sorts of things and treating him like it would an NRC student?

Does Azul truly belong here more than any of them expected he would? But then what about his time at RSA? The Dark Mirror scouts its students. Why would it have been waiting for Azul to visit it first?

He returns to the classroom, trying to hide the troubled look on his face as he hands Azul a bottle of water.

"Here. Drink up." Jamil sits next to him.

Azul wordlessly takes the bottle and opens it, taking careful sips. Gradually his posture begins to relax, though there are still beads of sweat on his forehead.

He looks at Jamil and tries for a smile. "I'm guessing you don't know what that's all about either?"

Jamil shakes his head, sticking close to him as if something bad could just come barging in at any moment. "Not at all. I can't help but keep thinking about your Cosmos Magic, though..."

Azul looks at his hands on the desk, holding the water bottle. They still have a slight tremor to them, and Azul grips the bottle tighter, as if willing his hands to stay still.

"I can understand if the Mirror simply means that I can study in either school," Azul says slowly, still looking at his hands. "But… 'the child who can tip the scales'?" he absently shakes his head.

"That's assuming that the Mirror knew what it was talking about," Jamil tries, knowing how fruitless it would be trying to downplay it. "It doesn't have to mean anything, does it? What scales?"

For a moment, a blanket of silence fell upon them as contemplation took over the initial bewilderment.

"...Azul, when you received RSA's letter, are you certain that that was the only letter of acceptance you got? Maybe NRC actually tried to recruit you at some point."

Azul furrows his eyebrows. "Not that I'm aware of. As far as I know, I only received an invitation from RSA. What does NRC's invitation look like?"

Jamil takes a moment before he conjures up a floating and faint image of a dark envelope with golden lining, clasped with the stamp of a raven-shaped symbol.

"Like this. But anyway, if it's not a matter of both schools fighting over you…” he lets the illusion vanish. "Then maybe this is about your magic. Has your cosmic spell always been both dark and light?"

"Well…" Azul looks down and goes silent for a few seconds before speaking again. "It was… dark when it first manifested. And then light slowly got incorporated in it as I got older. I was a little surprised but I knew that Rielle had light cosmic spell, and I thought it was just normal for young merfolk like us, for our magic to develop into light. But mine never turned entirely light. Before I graduated middle school, it's already the light and dark combination that it is now."

Azul takes out his Magic Pen and quietly conjures a ball of light and dark cosmic magic, just like the one he cast at the Autumn Dance. It hovers a few inches above the desk, like an ever-shifting thundercloud.

Azul looks at it contemplatively before extinguishing it again. "I was frightened, Jamil," he says quietly. "The Dark Mirror… I know it can sense the color and shape of one's soul but… I felt like a butterfly pinned to a board for examination. The Dark Mirror demanded answers but I didn't understand the questions…" his voice fades into a whisper, his eyes still holding a semblance of the fear and confusion that Jamil had seen.

In response, one of Jamil's hands wraps around Azul's to give it a comforting squeeze. "I don't understand it, either…" And it frustrates him. "Can you remember when your dark magic became lighter?"

Azul frowns as he tries to recall it. "It was about a month or two after I had become friends with Rielle. We were playing tag at the palace with the servants, and one of them had accidentally sent a prized vase flying across the room. I saw it cut through the water, and I instinctively summoned magic to cushion it so that it bounced unharmed when it hit the wall. It was the first time that my magic had some light in it, and Rielle and I were surprised. We hadn't seen anything like it before. We knew that some of our classmates had dark cosmic magic, and some had light. But we didn't know it was possible to have a combination of both."

"I didn't know it was possible, either." Jamil tries to look back at all of his history lessons to see if there's ever been a phenomenon like Azul's, but he can't remember anything like it. He gazes with concern at his partner. "We… don't have to look too deep into it if it frightens you. Having light and dark magic hasn't been a problem for you before, has it?"

Azul shakes his head. "No, it's never been a problem. It seems to work just as well as the normal dark or light magic that I see others use." He takes a breath and tries for a smile. "Anyway, no harm done. Perhaps I do have potential to be an NRC student, but it's not exactly anything to worry about. I'd like to just continue on with our day."

Jamil can only imagine how Azul must be feeling, and he pulls him close into a tight hug. "If the thought ever bothers you, just tell me and we'll do something about it, okay?" He doesn't know what he's gonna do yet but he'll make sure Azul's not gonna face it alone.

Azul hugs him back just as tightly, and Jamil can feel him slowly relaxing in his arms.

Azul sighs. "Thank you, Jamil. Where else are you planning to tour me?" his smile looks more genuine when they pull away from the embrace.

"That should be the last of the stamp loc— Ah," Jamil's expression gives way to realization. "We never got it stamped. But that would mean having to go back again and..." He frowns. He doesn't want to have to put Azul in an environment that could stress him out so soon.

"Ah…" Azul thinks about it. "I don't mind going back. Let's just stay far away from the Dark Mirror. It didn't speak until I got in front of it, and it went away when I showed that I didn't want to speak with it. I was frightened but… I don't think the Mirror meant any harm. Its job is to look at souls, after all."

It wouldn't just talk to any regular soul, but Jamil decides not to point that out for Azul's peace of mind. He's pretty sure the other's already well-aware of that fact.

"Right, follow and stay close to me, then."

Thankfully, no further incidents occur and they are able to get the stamp from Epel, who apologizes despite not having done anything wrong.

They thank Epel for the stamp and for keeping quiet about what happened, and continue on with their tour.

Notes:

I used various Merlin Lore from different media to create the Ambrose Lore in this universe, including details from the 1981 movie Excalibur and the BBC TV show Merlin.

Thank you for reading!

<- Chapter 25

Chapter 27 ->

(AshenViper Week 2024 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[tiddiesoutwhenthetisout]

tag from @babyrdie and @greekmythologylover234 .

been a lot of tag games recently huh! thanks for remembering me 🤣

9 people you want to know better

i don't know enough people on here, but i'll be tagging @amnesiaa-on-ice @akhillaous @whorewhouse @naurumii @elnbnt @peggy-sue-reads-a-book

here are the questions to copy-paste:

three ships

first ship

last song

last tv show

currently reading

currently watching

currently eating

currently craving

my answers to them are under the cut so only those who are interested will be reading it (because i'll be yapping) lol

three ships

- patrochilles (duh; probably going to be my favorite, if i'm honest)

- kavetham (admits this semi-shamefully because the rest of the fandom is ass-- but i've left it. glad i did because the recent toxic community will never do me any good. i stressed, i die. simple. was a huge hyperfixation for a year or so though.)

- vashwood (it's been a while, but i really got obsessed with them and the show. watched 1997 once, stampede 3 times, not inclusive of the scattered episodes)

first ship

tbh no idea. it may or may not be solomon and saya from blood+ (great show great show) but i was around 7 when this happened and was just tagging along with whatever my sister had to say about things like these? i'm not a super shippy person either-- i'm not big on these things and certainly a lot less when i was younger. didn't have a lot of interest in couples prolly bc i had no idea what difference it had with friendship. just that you kiss and fuck or something. and i thought that was weird, or well, nothing much to it.

i guess you could say that the first pairing i've ever wanted to defend was zuko and katara from ATLA 🤣 nowadays i understand mai and zuko's relationship and i think it's pretty sweet, but back then i was fixated on zutara chemistry so whee🕺

last song

i haven't been playing music recently since i've been over at my partner's, but "done for" from epic the musical has been playing in my head since i woke up so there's that lol

last tv show

we were looking through netflix for an "easy" show to watch for dinner and got through 2 episodes of the exploding kittens show 🤣 played the game a lot when we got it, plus fond memories of things that happened whilst prompted us to check it out. it's an american tv show i guess, and i've never really vibed with those so it was alright, i guess. the kitties were cute.

currently reading

nothing. finished madeline miller's circe 3 days ago or so, though. my odyssey reading has been suspended for 2 weeks now but i guess it's because i'm pretty much kept up on the plot from randomly reading shit about it on the internet? i'm generally more of a "how did the story go?" person when i get into a book unless i become super obsessed with it. then, i'll dive into the nuances of text and its analysis. which hasn't been happening recently. i'll probably be balls-deep in academic text soon considering i haven't been a good student (our research adviser told us to start doing our thesis papers over the summer holiday so the process will be smoother... guess i'll be disappointing the prof who actually likes me ✊)

currently watching

nothing. finished castlevania (as well as the released season of nocturne) last month and i think that's my quota for shows for a while lol.

currently eating

fast food because the rain started pouring so hard. in time for lunch or so. it was a sign from the lord to spend and have a good time because the world might end tomorrow or something.

currently craving

the other items on the menu i didn't order- kidding lmao. a calzone for some reason, as well as a fizzy drink i usually get from a local cafe run by a nice old lady and youth on the drinks. ok, now i want her pesto sandwich.

ight i'll just eat now brb

[takeariskao3]

So, full disclosure

chapter 16 of the path from you has been hanging over my head for months and i think most of you have guessed why... for those who haven't or who are curious to know more about why it's taking so long, i've decided to be pretty open and candid below the cut. there aren't any outright spoilers but more just an explanation about the process i've been going back and forth on since.... february ?? (ffs)

this isn't directly in response to that anon from last night but they did make a valid point that i have been promising an update and failing to deliver so, if you're wondering why, keep reading

i very much realize that this is my hobby, and i do it for fun, and i don't owe anyone an explanation but i still feel like i can give one anyway. most of you have probably guessed that the next 3-4 chapters of the path from you are harry and ginny reaching their boiling points and finally having it out (in more ways than one)

my problem has been that i have a very specific order of events in my head about how it should all unfold but everytime i sit down to write, harry and ginny jump ahead three chapters and start ruining all my plans. i think they, and i, are ready for some conversations to start happening, however, if they break one wall, then they all come crashing down and to be honest, i'm a little bit attached to what i've already written in 17-18-19 to truly be able to blow it all up again.

now, with that being said, i also think i've gotten to the point where i know it's time for some reconciliation. unfortunately, my ego/pride/self-confidence is getting in the way a little bit because, in my opinion, a well-executed emotional payoff separates a good writer from a great one, and in the spirit of full honesty, i want to be great.

this version of harry and ginny, and all of you who have stuck with me for this long, have earned a damn good moment and i really *really* want it to be the best possible unfolding of events it can be. full of heart and vulnerability and passion.

the people that i talk to almost everyday about this fic (@narukoibito, @fairsquare16, @corneliaavenue-ao3, @herblazinglook, @ginwhisky, @brightlybound, & @valfromcall) can tell you that i have been laboring and struggling and agonizing over this chapter for months. this is not something i take lightly and this fic means a whole lot to me in a lot of really personal ways, so i have been taking a massive amount of time getting us to where we are because i want to get it right. i want harry and ginny's reasons for ending up where they are to feel honest and i want their resolution to feel cathartic. and maybe this is where i'm crippling myself, by trying to make it perfect, but dammit HARRY AND GINNY DESERVE PERFECT

thank you to everyone who reached out last night and over the past few weeks with love and encouragement and support. you guys mean more to me than you will ever know. any good vibes you can throw my way while i write tonight would be much appreciated. chapter 16 is close. i had a revelation a couple nights ago about why i kept getting stuck so hopefully this newfound direction will finally get us to the finish line.

i guess i'll end by saying this, if ever you are curious about what i'm working on or what's coming up next or why an update is taking so long, just ask. i am an open book. i swear i'm not intentionally holding out on you. and if i promise an update and come back a few days later saying its not ready yet, please remember that i am trying to put out the best possible version of my stories and i am just as disappointed as you are that i'm not updating.

as always, thanks for reading and for allowing me the space to create this version of h/g's love story.

[andromedaexists]

It's Been a Week...

Seven days ago I introduced my book baby (Δάιος, you might have heard of it) into the world! On 10/10 Icky baby made his debut!!

So what has happened since then?

Well, my personal life has become a living hell but that's not what we're here to discuss. Today is all about self-publishing a debut novel.

Icarus came into the world on the 10th with a KDP ebook and paperback release. Those were soon joined on the 11th by an ebook, paperback, and hard cover wide release through the distribution channels of IngramSparks.

I have learned a lot with this process. Namely: IngramSparks is a fucking bitch when it comes to covers, Amazon will not provide quality author proofs so I have no way of knowing what my book will look like before it publishes, and that I need to give myself more time to work out the kinks next time.

Before I get too far into details, I want to highlight some numbers here. If you do not want to see publication numbers then you are free to go! Thank you for stopping by, though!

Okay, so here are my numbers so far:

I had sixteen (16) preorders on the Δάιος ebook through Amazon.

On release day, these orders processed. I also received another 3 orders that day, bringing the total number to 19.

Since that first day, I have received a total of 26 orders through KDP.

As you can tell, I had a significant dip right after pub day. This is mostly my own fault, as I am terrible at marketing and by virtue of my life going to shit I haven't even been shitposting about my book.

Of these 26 orders, 5 of them have been paperbacks

This is a lot better than I expected!! I think it's because I am so partial to physical copies that I tend to push those first and foremost before the ebook.

But these are just the amazon KDP numbers, I have also gone wide with distribution!

So how many orders have I gotten through IngramSparks??? None.

Not a one. That's to be expected though, a lot of indies sell through amazon first and foremost. I mostly set up ingram for two reasons: 1. I wanted to hold a hardcover edition of Δάιος in my hands but i really dislike the way that KDP doesn't offer dust jackets for their hardcovers and 2. Consignment

I just finished filling out some consignment forms for my local NE Ohio bookstores, we'll see if I get into any of them.

There is one other place I sell, though: my website. How many orders have I gotten there? 6!!

one of those images is different, because on my website I can offer something that amazon and IS can't. Physical goodies. The books on my website come with a pack of 6 stickers, a thank you card, and my signature! And technically I have 8 orders, but one hasn't come through yet from a friend in person and the other is for Shane bb who is getting an annotated copy of the book (I haven't finished the annotations yet lol)

So now that we have all the numbers out in the open, let's talk about money. How much did it cost for me to publish δάιος? A lot. It is possible to publish for much less than what it cost me, but I went out of my way to commission a cover artist that I just knew I needed to have and that cost me a pretty penny.

All in all, I spent $2,920.16 ($1,703.02 is the cover alone after conversion from GBP)

And how much have I made back so far, just in week one?

$73.46 from KDP royalties and $44.82 from my website ($94.95 - $50.13 for the books alone, not even counting the goodies and packing supplies) for a total of...

$118.28!!! That's a lot!!!

I am very privileged to have a credit card I can put my expenses on as I slowly pay them off, and I do not regret anything I have done in the creation of my book. Even if it makes me cry a little bit at how much I spent.

Now that the numbers are over, what are some positive things that have come of this and some negative things? (pos first)

I have published my debut novel!

There are 4 people who have read my debut novel and liked it enough to rate it on goodreads! (it has a 4.75 star rating atm!)

My book is BEAUTIFUL

Icky baby has been unleashed on the world!

I feel like I've finally accomplished something with my life

DID I MENTION THAT I PUBLISHED A BOOK???

the negatives:

I really don't like that the colors of the cover don't print properly, every copy I've gotten either lightens the contrast so you can't see the title or it darkens the damned thing and you can't see Icarus

I also don't like that IngramSparks doesn't support any letters outside of the basic latin letters on the spine of covers, because that means that my baby is naked under the dust jacket and that's just boring

Amazon Fuckt Up my print proof (i will attach pictures) and I freaked out about it for a good 4 days

I just realized today that I published daios with a placeholder chapter title about halfway through the book... so I fixed that but there are already more than 30 copies of the book in circulation with that error...

Idk if it's just my bad eyes but I feel like the text is too small in the print books. I would like to make it larger when I publish the revised edition next year

INGRAMSPARKS IS A LITTLE BITCH THAT WILL YELL AT YOU AND REJECT YOUR COVER IF YOU LOOK AT IT WRONG

I can order just a regular copy of daios off amazon and it will be here in two days. So why when I order author copies does it take TWO WEEKS TO SHIP

I really hate that the hardcover can't have creme paper. Like, gimme the offwhite. It looks so much better with my cover and the vibes of the story. Lemme use something other than bleach white please i'm begging

All in all, I learned a lot with this!! I had my ups and downs, I think I've done everything in my power to make this book successful, and now I just have to roll with it!

I will check in again at the one month mark, but yeah! That's it! Thanks for reading through this long winded post!!

The pictures, as promised:

And just in case you can't immediately see what's wrong:

The colors are off, the title has like a hard demarcation when it's supposed to be a soft glow and you can't hardly see Icarus down there

My name is brushed up against the edge of the book when it's supposed to have a decent buffer room

The spine is shifted. Why is the spine text partially on the front cover?

The colors are off on the back as well, the text is hard to read and it's too close to the edge of the book when it's supposed to be more centered.

For reference, here's the finally front cover on a regular paperback purchased through amazon (I.E. what a normal customer would receive):

[coffeebanana]

20 questions for Fic Writers

Omg it took me ages to get to this but better late than never! Thanks for the tags @rosie-b, @monpetitchattriste, @lesbitorte, @kasienda and @celestialtitania!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Um. 107*... It's possible that I have a problem 😂

(*one is on anon. more on that later adfdsd)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

801,972!!! (fun fact i was just below 800k the first time i got tagged in this game so i was like "oh well i'm posting a new chapter tomorrow...i'll do this game after that so i can pass that milestone!" and then i posted the chapter but it took me close to a week to do this ahaha)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mostly just ml. i have a few spop fics too but i don't really write for that fandom anymore. or at least not right now.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Gah. okay. I'm going to answer this honestly but to do that I first need to explain that my most kudoed fic is on anon because I'm annoyed it's my most kudoed fic aksjfbksdb. Like. It's only so popular because there's a bit of lila salt? and really the fic isn't about that but i don't really write that kind of thing anymore and i don't want ppl coming to my profile and sorting by kudos and seeing that first. There are other things i'd do a lot differently in that fic now too ahaha.

Break a Leg

Cards Against Ladybug's Identity

Ladybug And The Tramp Stamp

Imaginary Friends

The Sun Will Rise Again

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do!! I reply to pretty much every comment--unless it's particularly rude/rubs me the wrong way. I know commenting takes time and I appreciate the effort ppl put into it so I like to give my thanks back!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Every Teardrop is a Waterfall. Although I think Girl Is A Gun is a strong contender too?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uh...well, most of my fics have happy or at least hopeful endings. I don't think I can narrow this down to just a few haha.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think I've ever gotten hate? Definitely some comments that aren't super nice but nothing too bad. (now i've probably gone and jinxed it 😂)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

um. a little tiny bit but not enough to have a particular kind LOL. i've only posted it once so far. but i also have Entangled, which will have smut in the next chapter--and that's angsty smut. which i suppose would be my brand of smut if i ever write any more

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i haven't! i entertained the idea of an ml/spop crossover a couple years ago but i don't have any interest in it anymore. oh and i ALSO had an idea for a marigami spyxfamily crossover. but i don't know if i'll ever get around to that

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of! (*knocks on forehead since no wood is nearby*)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but that would be super cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have not! a few times i've planned to write things with other ppl but nothing that ever really made it to the writing stage ahaha. although the littlebug vday zine is a collab in the form of a series--not exactly co-written but similar vibes

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

to write for, definitely the love square. and then catradora is so special to me because it got me back into writing and also i started IDing as a lesbian in part because i binged spop.

aside from that i can't really decide because like. there are so many shows i've seen and books i've read and ships i've loved for so many different reasons asdfbk. and then i have OC ships that only live in my head but that i love to play with sometimes before i fall asleep at night. so please don't make me choose!!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

uh. i would say none of them? because it's only when i completely lose interest in a fic that i lose the belief i'll finish it. and that's only happened with maybe two of my wips i can think of?

16. What are your writing strengths?

Depicting emotions! And using the setting to do that by establishing the mood/tone/etc...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i guess like...self-doubt? not that i'm awful with it. in general i think i'm pretty good that way. but it's my biggest barrier to writing when i have periods where i get in my head about my writing, and it can make me overthink and not know if i LIKE my writing. and i think my writing is at its best when i'm having fun with it (which is probably true of most ppl), so...

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think it makes sense when the characters are actually speaking that language for a short time but aren't speaking it for most of the fic? like i have one ml AU set in new york so they're speaking english for most of it and i used french for the first couple lines that were french (and weaved the translations into the narrative). so that's the only time i do that personally--aside for maybe one word lines like bonjour--but as a reader it doesn't usually bother me when i see it used other ways

19. First fandom you wrote for?

ahaha the Vampire Academy book series. and NO you won't find those fics anywhere, even though they are still out there somewhere

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

currently Say Something. and i very much wish i could finish writing it, but it'll happen when it happens!

I think most people I would have tagged have probably been tagged by this point...likely more than once 😂. So whoever else wants to play should do so!!

[leofrith]

[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

Tagged by @aeide and @ainulindaelynn 💖 I did this one a few months ago but a few answers have changed since then so I'll update those. 😊

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Six now! Four one-shots, a short-ish multi-chapter which was supposed to be a one-shot that got away from me, and my longfic which at this point I should have just waited to post but am definitely still chipping away at.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

33,030 which is almost double my count from a few months ago. Woaaaaaaaaahhhh

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Still Assassin's Creed, now dipping into Baldur's Gate 3 as well.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Still the same five fics in the same order but with slightly different numbers:

Hideaway - 149

Bright Skies - 139

Press On, Move Along - 94

Out of the Cold - 43

Honor Bound - 29

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! Always.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Still Press On, Move Along.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Still Hideaway.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Still hate-free, for now.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Sure do 💀 and I've posted some of it since the last time I did this. I think the only way I can really describe it is emotionally-charged, because if I'm going to horny jail it will at the very least be in service of some kind of character development. 😭

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Still occasionally poke away at the AC x Star Wars AU, but I'm not super invested in it right now. But I'm sure that will change as soon as a new Star Wars thing comes out. Since I last did this I also went digging through the depths of my writing folder and found a Walking Dead x MCU crossover that I must have started when I was like 14 years old. Absolute fucking horror show that I am so very thankful I never wrote enough to post. 🤡

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Still no, as far as I'm aware.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, except for yelling back and forth about ideas with friends. I would probably be open to it but also maybe not because I know I am extremely unreliable.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Saying "all-time" favourite feels a bit much, but as far as mental real estate and also just sheer number of words written, Leovor far surpasses any other ship I've been into. 🧍🏻‍♀️

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Since I did that ask game a few weeks ago, the Inquisitor Ahsoka/Rex starting a clone rebellion/post TCW AU has been on my mind. But I know that, realistically speaking, I'm unlikely to ever be invested enough to actually sit down and write it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm trying to make a point to read more fiction and while it's possible that the few books I've read thus far lately just haven't been particularly good, it's certainly made me way more confident in my ability to write dialogue that feels like it would be spoken by real live humans and not aliens pretending to be humans. Similar deal with internal monologues. I'm convinced that none of these authors read their work aloud.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Still generally the same—overthinking comma usage, editing while I write and therefore being very slow, going back and forth between being stuck because I didn't plan enough and feeling stifled because I planned too much. Etc etc.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I try to avoid it as much as possible, with the exception being words or phrases that are used a lot in canon.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Still Marvel :(

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Honor Bound is still my baby, but I didn't expect to actually like A Different Kind of Solace as much as I do, mostly because I didn't really go into writing it expecting to hit the emotional notes that it does. Also still Out of the Cold. There are some banger lines there.

Not tagging anyone because this one has gone around a few times recently but if you want to do it, you're welcome to pretend I tagged you. 😌

[zoyaofthegardvn]

for a request could you write a Crier’s War fic? I feel like they’re such a criminally underrated ship, I’d love for you to write something for them since you have flawless writing skills

Butterflies

Crier x Ayla (Crier's War)

A/N: Awh, thank you so much for that kind compliment! That really means so so much to me! <3 I love Crier and Ayla so much, Crier's War was one of the first fantasy books I read when I was getting back into reading, and the first sapphic book I read which really helped me come to terms with my own identity! I will always love them so much. I've been wanting to write for them, but I guess I haven't had the proper motivation. I'd love to whip something up for them, though!

~~~

Crier sits next to an open window in the library, the breeze making the loose strands of hair in her face flutter around, tickling her. Her nose scrunches at the sensation, but before she can move the hair from her face, another hand is rising up, tucking the lock behind her ear, doing it for her.

Crier looks up at Ayla, into her dark brown eyes. "Thank you," she says, ever polite.

Ayla smirks, "You're welcome, my love."

Crier swears Ayla does it on purpose, calls her these terms of endearment, just because she knows what it does to her. Weeks ago, they'd been laying in Crier's bed, Crier's head on Ayla's chest while she carded her fingers through her har. Crier had confessed that being near Ayla, when Ayla touches her so gently and talks to her so sweetly, it gives her a... funny feeling, in her stomach.

Ayla had jokingly asked if being near her made Crier feel sick, to which Crier immediately sat up to look down at her.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course it doesn't make me sick!"

Ayla was laughing, of course she knew what Crier had meant. But she always loved to antagonize her, just a bit. It was too easy.

Ayla had asked her to describe the feeling, and Crier did. "I-It feels like, like maybe there's someone, running around in there? Like it feels warm, a-and funny... like I'm being tickled from the inside out."

Ayla had smiled and nodded, reaching up to tug on Crier's arm, bringing her back down for another cuddle.

"I know what you mean, it's the butterflies. That lovesick feeling. I feel it when I'm around you, too."

Crier had nuzzled her face into Ayla's neck, she breathed in her scent, pine and woodsmoke. "You do?" She whispered against her skin.

Ayla just nodded, rubbing her hand up and down Crier's back, soothing any embarrassment she might have caused. "I do, Crier. Of course I do."

Now, in the library, golden eyes glinting in the sun, Crier, who wants to know everything can't help but welcome the... butterflies, as Ayla called them. She adored the feeling, even more now that she knows exactly what it is. And especially knowing Ayla feels it too.

"Do you feel them right now, too?" Crier asks shyly.

Ayla looks at her in confusion, "Feel...?"

"The butterflies?" Crier finishes for her, tone serious and eyes trained on her.

There's a moment of silence before Ayla bursts into laughter, tears leaking from her eyes. She's bent at the waist, doubled over from how silly she finds Crier in this moment.

Now, it's Crier's turn to look confused. She's a bit stung really, wondering if maybe she's too in love with Ayla, that she's feeling this emotion so often.

Ayla's laughter dies down a bit when she catches sight of Crier's stricken face, feeling a bit guilty for disappointing her. She can't help the remaining giggles, though. Crier's just too damn cute.

"Crier, my love, that isn't something you typically ask someone. Have you been thinking about it, all this time? If I feel it at the same times that you do?"

Crier looks down at her hands in embarrassment, whispering a gentle "Oh" under her breath at the knowledge she might have invaded Ayla's privacy.

Ayla feels guilty, never wanting Crier to feel ashamed. She stands from where she sits across the table, coming closer to Crier, taking the seat next to her and scooting as close as she possibly can.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you, Crier. I just found it funny, and cute. That's all."

Crier nods, still refusing to make eye contact with her girlfriend, her soon to be wife.

Ayla sighs, placing a hand under Crier's chin, bringing her head up so that she can really look at her.

"Crier, I doubt we always feel butterflies at the same exact time..."

She doesn't speak, she just waits for Ayla to continue.

"I feel them when you're asleep, when I wake up before you and see you clinging to my arm. I feel them anytime you speak at council meetings, when you stand up and take control of the room," she runs a thumb over Crier's bottom lip, "I feel them when I watch you read, when we swim together and you laugh every time I dunk you under the water. I feel them when you forgive me too easily, and when you kiss me, Crier, I feel like I'm going to burst because the feeling is so strong."

Crier smiles now, gentle like most everything she does. This time, when she breaks eye contact, it's not because she's embarrassed. It's because she's overwhelmed.

"Look at me, Crier." Ayla says, leaning closer to her love.

Crier does, and in just a quick moment, their lips meet, molding together like they were made to do so.

In this moment, neither one of them doubts what the other is feeling. It's love, adoration, complete and utter worship.

[hanabeeri]

another week has passed uwaaah 早いね.. its a good practice though to sit down and to really think about what happened. at least to me because i have a memory worse than a fruit fly i believe 🥹 the week isnt over and i still have sunday ahead of me, but i dont think anything major or big will happen tomorrow. i may facetime my friends to talk about a book we're reading together though, so theres that 🧸💕

what happened this week? >i turned in my japanese essay (i will rewrite it until next week though... because i couldn't come up with any culture shock i experienced and picked the one i found in an old chat with a friend. but its a topic, way too silly, to use as a basis for our oral presentation in a month) >i started reading a good girls guide to murder with my friends! i read up until chapter 5. i already have some critiques, my friends and i talked about it briefly, and i do see that i may have been to critical. i wasn't aware it was a novel for a younger audience, but i can see it now 🥹 ill keep it in mind for the overall review >on wednesday i left university earlier so i could surprise a friend together with my other friends! she moved to a new place and we prepared a small gift for her and her boyfriend for their new home. we coordinated the visit with her boyfriend so she wouldnt notice anything and it worked! she was so overwhelmed at first, but later on she was really happy 🩷💕🧸 >i met a friend two times that i haven't seen in a long time. we planned on painting together, but i ended up doodling album covers that came up on spotify instead (does that count as an activity? www can you tell that nothing much has happened?) >on thursday i finally caught up on my japanese syntax classes and today i want to do the new grammar for next weeks classes. which reminds me... i still need to ask a friend from uni to explain 'quasiphrasen' to me. i only have like two notes jotted down from last semester but i dont think i really grasped the difference between that and a proper phrase >oh and i finished fight club! good book :)) the first half was okay, you can easily breeze through it without noticing, it picks up in its second half. thats when it got really interesting! >i bought both of my parents flowers and a card!! unfortunately i forgot that fathers day was on thursday, so im giving both my papa and mama flowers today - since its mothers day tomorrow

not exactly a productive week i would say, but its okay <3 im not here to compete or do things fast, im doing things for the sake of doing them and because they make me happy 🧸💕💞🩷 a more detailed and jucier version of my week is written inside my physical diary, but that is something i doubt ill ever share with anyone. maybe a future lover 🥹💞🌸

i think for next week i would like to set a goal. nothing too big, i just want to read up on ableism. to learn its forms and how its executed in daily life. so i can learn and grow and be better to people who deserve more than what they're currently given in life. read the bible some more and find peace. have i ever talked about a few weeks ago when i felt so miserable i had the wish to die again? i prayed to God in that moment and i felt so warm afterwards. like He put His gentle hand over my heart to give me the comfort i sought.

pretty decorations by huramuna and sunfoxpixels

[interminableblackgirl]

Dincember Day 11: Icicle

Soooo, I haven't written anything in a pretty long time and I'm taking up the challenge of writing more by participating in Dincember, my new favorite fanfiction series to read. Seriously I thought I was just gonna find a new show to watch, but instead I found not only that but a main character I can be de lu lu about. I'm starting on day 11 but this is Day 1 for me so if this story is any good, enjoy and favorite, and leave a comment!

I haven't finished the series so this may be very different from the actual plot but hey just go with it, a good story is a good story. Enjoy!

"Hmmm and what happened next", I asked. Grogu continued his sweet, repeated babbles as he picked up another one of his toys, waving it about. I was lying on the floor of the Razor Crest with a dozen of toys scattered around me. Keeping Grogu's attention could be a full-time job, but right now I seem to have gotten it just fine. Currently, we were passing the time as today made day 3 of being in the ship as Din was out capturing his bounty on this desert planet we were sent to. It had been a while since I travelled with Din off planet for a bounty, preferring to stay home and run the apothecary.

"Here you go. And here's a sample of the oatmeal salve. If Jabari likes it, I'll set some aside for you. It sells out pretty fast", I bagged Tsoki's purchases and handed the bag to her across the counter.

"Thank you so much Emani, that rash just won’t go away. Will I see you Tuesday for the flower picking?", Tsoki asked placed the bag on her arm and adjusted the wrap that held baby Jabari to her chest. Tsoki is a friend who lives in town. She ran the large community garden and was helping me to make one back at home for my family. A few months ago, I was her midwife, assisting in her delivery of the child that was now blinking sleepily, fighting to stay awake.

"Yes I'll see you then. Hey, I'll walk you out, it's about that time to lock up anyway", I said walking from behind the counter to meet her.

Tsoki glanced up at the clock on the wall, " Oh my-I've been in here for 2 hours?", she exclaimed.

I laughed, "Yes you have, you know it's very easy to do so".

The shop had a little of everything. Round tables arranged on the first floor with pre-made remedies bottled ready to go, candles, body oils, and washes for the taking. Behind the front counter, adorned on the walls were large glass jars of herbs and spices ready to be weighed on the scale and packaged for anyone who needed. And upstairs, books and specimens nestled on shelves for those who were looking for something more curious in nature.

"No wonder why he's falling asleep. Emani this place is so peaceful I could fall asleep in one of these chairs", she said walking towards the door.

"Thank goodness it stays fairly busy or I’d do the same”, I went to grab the door handle to let her out when the door opened. Din made his way in suited gloriously in his shining armor with our own small one tucked in the crook of his arm.

"Hello, Mando. I haven’t seen you in a while how are you”, Tsoki asked.

"Hey Tsoki, doing good. How is Jabari?", he replied.

Tsoki bounced the small child, "He's doing wonderful. Not giving me any real problems. After the first two week, he sleeps through the entire night".

"If only we had a well-behaved child", Din tilted his helmet down to Grogu who was peering into the wrap to get a better look at the baby.

"Oh Grogu's the best kid I know. I got to go. Mani, I'll see you Tuesday", Tsoki said, making her way out of the shop.

Din walked further into the store as I locked the door and flipped the sign. Grogu cooed, reaching out toward me, "Hello my baby how are you?". I picked and held him up in the air, bringing him back down to kiss his neck, he squealed excitedly. I placed him on my hip and looked at Din, "Hello my other baby".

Din chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for my waist pulling me close and touching his helmeted forehead to mine, "How was your day?".

"Long but good. I've been working on my new recipe for burn wounds. Haven't tried it out on anyone yet but I think it's a winner".

"Well done", he said.

"How was your day", I said as I made my way behind the counter. I placed Grogu on the tabletop as I dipped down into the lower cabinet to fetch to grab a jar of sweets. Grogu's eyes widened as I put the jar down

"Uh oh, Emani, you know how he is with sugar", Din said questioningly. I grabbed a scoop and dug into the container, pouring a few chocolate candies into a bowl.

"Oh I know", I laughed, remembering the time he got into a stash of sweets which led to a more hyperactive than normal Grogu. "I'm only giving him a couple of pieces, the rest is for the when we make it back home". I picked up a candy and placed it in the middle of my palm. Grogu bounced where he sat and quickly moved to grab the candy and began devouring the candy.

"So what did you do today?", I asked. Din put one arm on his hip and another leaning on the counter, "I spoke to Greef today and he gave me a pretty decent bounty", he reached in his pocket and held up the fob.

"Doesn't he always".

"Well this one has been on the run for a while and I've got a tip on where they are".

I asked hesitantly, "Where are they?".

"Taramean", He stated.

"The ocean planet", I exclaimed. I had always heard of Taramean, a beautiful tropical planet with gorgeous beaches and blue water.

"I'm thinking after I catch the bounty I'll reward myself with a nice swim", he teased.

"Taramean you say. You know it's been a while since I went with you on a bounty".

Din put both arms on the counter leaning his head over, "A few beaches wouldn't make you close the shop would it".

"You know, business is really good. It wouldn't hurt if I closed the shop for a few days".

"Aren't you meeting Tsoki Tuesday", he reached into the bowl and grabbed a chocolate.

"The season just started so it wouldn't hurt to wait a few days before picking flowers".

Din grabbed the bottom of his helmet and lifted it up just high enough to where I would see his lips. He took a bite of the chocolate, "Pack a bag. We leave out in the morning then".

However, instead of swimming in the crystal-clear waters of Taramean or baking under the bright sun, we received another tip while mid-trip that the bounty was instead on a desert planet whose average temperature is 50 degrees Fahrenheit and currently the temperature outside of the ship was -3 degrees. Din handed me the two-way communication device before leaving for his hunt so I can check in with him and he with me. I typically wait for Din to call me, not wanting to interrupt his mission, however I was worried for him. The temperature continued to drop, and I hadn't heard from him since yesterday afternoon.

I sighed doing my best not to worry. I was mentally preparing myself to possibly go out into the unknown and search for him myself. Ice was forming on the windows outside the ship and the wind howled. At the same time, I remained of the floor of the ship allowing Grogu to talk to me in that very unfamiliar language of his. Grogu, although being 50 years old he was still just a child. And although he is destined to be a great Jedi, he's just a baby who wants to tell me all of what he sees and play with his toys.

Grogu continued talking while riffling through his toys on the ground. Yes, I will always be frustrated that I don't understand him and will continue to hold out hope that I will find a translator for sale soon. I haven't been lucky as of yet, but I was happy that even though I do not know what he was saying, I can give him the love and attention he may have never known before being with Din and I.

Grogu dropped the toy he was holding onto the ground and grasped two handfuls of my shirt. Using my shirt as leverage, he shakily propped himself up in a standing position and began using his arms as drum sticks, banging them on my ribs.

"Ow Grogu can you be a bit more gentle ", I laughed. He gave me only loud cooing in response, and continued drumming. I relished moments like these. He felt safe and that he could be the child he was denied for so long, being hidden and under constant threat of the Empire.

The wind continued to roar outside and as I thought again about the condition of my Mandalorian. I pressed my finger against the com in my ear, "Come in Din. Din can you hear me?", I sighed.

"Alright Grogu, I'm giving your papa 10 more minutes and then I'm going to search for him".

Grogu continued to bounce up and down when we heard the ramp of the ship open and the sound of the wind grow even louder. He turned his head toward the sound and cooed. I scooped him up in my arms shielding him from the freezing breeze making its way in the ship. I could hear Din coming up the ramp. I guess he managed to catch his bounty, doesn't surprise me, but the landscape we were on made me wonder where anyone could hide out here.

"Din are you alright", I asked, the sound of boots coming straight toward us instead of stopping at the carbonite chamber first. I gasped when he finally came into view. His suit was covered in thick layer of snow and ice and in is left fist he held the bounty, frozen in a block of ice with icicles hanging off of it.

"Oh my-", I began.

"The com froze", he said in a shallow breath, dropping the bounty to the ground, shards of ice breaking and flying across the room.

"Let's get you out of your suit", I say placing Grogu on a crate as I reached for the beskar armor. As I went to pry it off, the coldness of the steel burned my hands.

"Maker! I need gloves. Hold on a sec", I reached into an overhead compartment and pulled out a pair of mechanic gloves. Din moved to sit on two crates away from Grogu, leaning on the wall. Grogu reached out in concern.

"Stay back kid", Din said shifting slightly away from him. I began grabbing beskar plates but they wouldn't remove.

"Din your armor is frozen ", I relented. Din's arm moves in front of him, he created a fist and hits the center of his chest. The chest plate unlatches, and I remove it from him, placing it on the floor. With all the other plates, I hammer at them before removing them as well.

"How are you Din", his chest was heaving and he was slump against the wall saying nothing as I worked.

"I'm thinking about making a stop at Teramean. I'm frozen from the head down".

"You mind if I take a look at you Mandalorian", I motion to his helmet.

"Please". I reached under this helmet detaching the release and lifting it over his head. His eyes looked tired and strained. There were pink splotches on the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. I place both hands on either side of his face and he shifted his face into my left hand, grazing his nose against my wrist.

He gave a tired smile, "Thank you riduur".

"I'll make some hot tea for you. It's probably best that you get out of the flight suit and change into something warm. You never took your sweats off the ship so you can wear that".

"Ah that sounds wonderful", he brushed snow off his shoulder plate and began to remove the armor from his flight suit.

"Hey look on the bright side, your bounty's already frozen", I look over at the man who looked to be in pain inside of the ice.

Din snickered, " I think he got lost out there. He would have froze to death if I didn't find him".

"How lucky is he. I'm going to put on the pot", I grab a blanket and wrap it around Din's shoulders. I walk to the kitchen and grab the kettle.

"Ice"

"What?", I ask turning off the water. I walk back into the cargo hold. "What did you say".

Din is staring down at Grogu, who turns to me with a tooth grin and opens his mouth, "Ice".

Din kneels down in front of Grogu, staring him in the eyes in awe, "Say it again kid".

"Ice", he repeated bouncing on the crate. Din turned his heard toward me in amazement, laughing "I've been eaten by a dragon and all it took was a frozen planet".

[busaikuknee]

tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better

thank you for tagging me @the-house-of-cards! <3 i'll answer on here since i don't really maintain any other blogs atm

last song you listened to: they'll just love you- been in a mood where i don't want to listen to anything good, i just want to listen to stuff that works well for playing on loop loudly in the background. i mainly like the section after 1:47; in grim moments i think about making video edits/amvs/fancams/etc, so i keep mentally drafting something out for it

currently watching: the terror season 1! allegedly! watched most of it a month ago, enjoyed it, and keep putting off watching the last two episodes for no reason. i'm terrible at watching tv.

currently reading: nothing book-wise, unfortunately! that said, when i was researching some stuff last week, i found a series of articles about, among other things, the evolution of color printing in comics. the parts i read had a lot of valuable technical information that i want to implement into future works; looking forward to reading the rest of them soon!

current obsession: i mean, i sure am posting this on my wrestling blog lmao. besides that though, i finished playing inscryption recently and fucking loooooooved it, what a stellar video game. want to let it sit for a little bit, but i'm definitely replaying it soon

tagging: i haven't double-checked, but i think everyone i know got tagged for this already? if not: hey, you reading this! i'm nosy and i like seeing what people are enjoying, do it if you'd like!

[snek-panini]

I'm somewhat late posting this one, since I finished it a couple of weeks ago, but this was Binderary Book #3! A bind of Pray for Us, Icarus by Atalan. I'm not sure this fic needs any introduction from me, but suffice it to say that it's wonderful and involves retelling the events of canon with a memory loss twist. It's one of those fics that exists in undeniable conversation with canon; you can't really separate it from the canon without losing a lot of meaning. This fic is so good it gives me story hangover when I read it. It gets pretty angsty in parts but has a happy and totally satisfying ending.

I tried so many new things with this bind, and most of them came out really well! I'm a little in love with it. More pics and process talk below the cut!

One of the reasons I waited to post is because I never got a response from the author when I reached out about binding this one. That's only happened to me once before, and last time it was on an orphaned work so I expected it. Hopefully they don't mind that I've posted pics.

The cover on this one is faux leather. It was my first time working with it and I loved it. Feels really nice, looks beautiful, holds a fold well (this brand, anyway), and takes glue and embossing powder like a champ. The front has a 3D cutout that I made with layered sheets of thin cardboard, then covered over with leather and pressed into the corners. That's another first for me (my other cutouts were all 2-material windows) and I loved it so much I did it over again on my next bind (not done yet--pics are coming). I did press too hard and tear the material in one spot; the gilding around the title is there to cover that. The other issue I had was with the rose stamp on the front cover--turns out this stuff is way more slippery that I expected, and it got shifted while I was pressing it, trying to get the details to take.I didn't notice this until after using the heat gun, at which point it was too late to re-do it, so now I'm living with it. Not ideal, but we live and learn.

Top view, spine, and endpaper. The only design choice I made on this volume that I'm not nuts about is the blue endbands. They're...fine. But I didn't have one available that was better, and I haven't taken the leap into making my own yet. They're not that bad, I just don't love them.

Title on spine! This is another first, possible because of the material. The book cloth I usually use doesn't play nice with the embossing powder so I can't use it on the cloth spines that I usually prefer. But the faux leather works fine with it, so I went for it here.

Endpapers are scrapbook paper, a really nice shade of light green that didn't shop up well in the photos. Trust me, though--they look fabulous with the green ribbon bookmark and the brown leather. Rich and warm and lovely. The case on this fits really well, which is something I continue to struggle with. At first I thought it was too big again, but in hindsight I think it's perfect actually.

Interior shots! I...still need to up my game on the title pages. I did for the bind that came after this one. I find I like the box though. Keeping that.

The illustration next to the chapter title is a sprig of rosemary. Memory loss is a major theme in the story, and the quote "rosemary for remembrance" comes up prominently in the first chapter, so I thought it was appropriate. There are a lot of flowers and plants in this story, and I really wanted to feature all of them, but finding coordinating artwork of them all was too big of a challenge so only two made it in: the rosemary and the rose on the front cover. The rose was a rubber stamp and the rosemary was a free image I found online; all I did was resize it. The same image appears at the beginning of each chapter. I finally figured out how to prevent Word from making all my images blurry, so there will be more included artwork like this in future binds.

That's a wrap! I love this bind. Like a lot. I want to show it to everyone I know but I don't want to explain fanfiction to them so it's here. My next Binderary bind is almost done and will be shared in a few days, (it needs its cover attached and to be titled) and then I owe someone an author's copy before I launch into another fanbind. I already have plans for it though. Can't sit still too long.

[dirty-bosmer]

6 questions

Tagged by @thana-topsy and @thequeenofthewinter Thank you <3

RULES: answer the questions then tag some peeps (🐥) you want to get to know better/catch up with.

Last Song: "Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?" by Rod Stewart. A cover of this song came on at sushi restaurant one day, MONTHS AGO, and it's been living in my ear ever since. I listen to it in the morning to get hype lol

Last Show : I finished season 1 of White Lotus last week, had it playing in the background while at the microtome. Half-assedly watched the second season but a lot went in one ear out the next 🤷‍♀️

Currently Watching: My partner and I are long distance and have a tv-show night once a week. Currently watching Better Call Saul, the Last of Us, and rewatching Game of Thrones.

Currently Reading: The Great God Pan by Arthur Machen, Filthy Animals by Brandon Taylor, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson. I'm always jumping between a million different books as my library loans become available and expire. There are many more that I'm not mentioning. Quite frankly, it's unsustainable.

Current Obsession: Hmm, I will forever be obsessed with The Elder Scrolls even if I haven't played any in months. Oblivion is my favorite game, and I guess the brainrot will always return. Currently thinking about how pathetic all my OCs are after a nice chat with @atypicalacademic about exploring protagonists with delusions of grandeur :D

Unrelated Obsession: Kefir. It's a fermented milk beverage that my mom used to make growing up but we called it bulgaros which translates to 'Bulgarians' in spanish. I had no idea it was the same thing until I bought a carton from the grocery store and was like 😳 *childhood flashes before my eyes* It tastes like yogurt, and h e a l t h, and when I drink it I like to think the creatures in my guts are singing with joy.

I tag: @memaidraws @justafoxhound @atypicalacademic @ptsilenthillremaster @skyrim-forever @grimweaver @arnaerr @burningsilence @wispstalk @chennnington @sylvienerevarine @sithis-has-no-balls

No pressure as always 🥰