#i never... realize how many muses i have until I write them all down like this lkfdjglsfd

[mrpenguinpants]

You are all I long for, all I worship, and adore.

— It's strange seeing your future selves being so close when you thought you both hated each other guts.

— Jing Yuan, Dan Feng (& Dan Heng) + Sunday

[Masterlist]

Suspend your disbelief for the timeline of lore, please.

Update: When I originally wrote this, I wanted to do an entire "Fly Me to the Moon," series of fics based on time travel. Hence the title. Shout-out to that one person who was waiting for me to write Sunday. I didn't, but I see you. It will happen soon.

Jing Yuan

This is the worst. The absolute worst thing ever. In the entirety of your living long life, this is the absolute worst moment so far. Were all the good times leading up to this moment? Did the Aeon's have some sick agenda, or were you randomly selected to be messed with today? If you had the option of eating literal trash bags for the rest of your life or continuing to live in this moment, you'd rather chew your own arms off. Maybe if you start now, you can save your future self the pain and humiliation of succumbing to...whatever this is.

"Aw, you were so cute when you were younger,” you - at least you think it’s you. This stranger wears the same face as you although a bit older. Perhaps alien would be a more fitting name? - this stranger coos as they cup Jing Yuan's face in their hands. Pinching cheeks with barely any fat on them with the sweetest smile you never knew you could even make. Jing Yuan, one of the seven Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights who stared down an actual Lord Ravager, looks two seconds away from bolting like a scared cat. He hasn’t moved an inch since this started and honestly, as mortifying as this is, it’s way worse for him than it is for you. So naturally, you’re turning a blind eye and holding Yangqing hostage from saving his precious general of sweet words and praises.

”I see we didn’t get along at this point in time,” a deep voice muses above you from a man you’re very blatantly pretending to ignore. An older Jing Yuan stands beside you, amused at his younger self having a barely contained stroke. If it wasn't bad enough that a future version of yourself suddenly appeared, Jing Yuan just had to follow. Always a nuisance no matter his age. Maybe if you hold your breath, you’ll pass out and everything will blow over. It sounds less painful than trying to eat yourself from the outside in any way. Before you can start, a hand, heavy yet somehow gentle, is placed on your shoulder. “I don’t recommend trying to self-induce a suffocation. Nor attempt any cannibalism on the self either.”

Okay. That’s creepy. Do senior citizens suddenly gain mind-reading powers? You’ve heard the story that if a man stays a virgin until he’s 30, he'll become a wizard. You let out a huff of amusement at that thought, maybe that’s what’s happening. That amusement gets cut short when you realize that somehow, you fell for this 30-year-old virgin. You refuse to accept that out of spite. That story was meant for short-life species anyway.

“For all intensive purposes, I’m choosing to believe this is a nightmare and the first step to waking up from one is to induce pain,” you answer blandly, your grip on Yanqing finally waning as the boy sprints in for the rescue. Only to get swept up in the storm as your other self switches her attention to the kid. Sticky fingers and starry eyes have Yanqing disarmed before he can even lift a finger to summon his ice sword, falling prey to the musing of a Xianzhou auntie. Nevertheless, Yanqing does his job correctly because it allows Jing Yuan to finally escape as he stumbles over to you and his other self.

"How far the mighty have fallen," you snicker behind your hand at how ruffled Jing Yuan looks. His hair is a bit fluffy from how many times your future self ran their hands through it, and his cheeks are a bit pink. Probably from all the pinching. There's even a deep chuckle next to you to accompany your words as Jing Yuan coughs into his fist before straightening up properly. You can see Yanqing being given sweets behind his back and that alone buys the kids complacency.

"My apologies for that," Jing Yuan says as the older Jing Yuan simply laughs in response. Unserious and unfretted in everything.

Huh, now that you look closer. He has laugh lines.

"It is I that should apologize. We have disturbed your schedule with our, ahem, compliments," Other Jing Yuan chuckles once again, as if the fact that he has time traveled into the past was a small "disturbance". Aeons, you hate this guy in every form.

They go back and forth, talking in that faux politeness that never truly goes anywhere before you finally had enough of this. You're not sticking around for this tea-time pleasantries any longer than you need to. It's the exact reason why you left your position as the "Divine Foresight Counselor" and passed it off to Qingzu as soon as you could. Unfortunately, you're going up against two Jing Yuan's, so the moment you shift your shoe to take a step back to remove yourself from the conversation, two pairs of golden eyes snap to you. One is smiling, the other is frowning.

"Heading off?"

"Where are you going?"

You look between the two, older and younger, and you can feel your head beginning to hurt. You let out a sigh, rubbing your forehead, before ultimately picking the lesser of two evils. If you have to look into those love-stricken soft eyes one more time, you might actually pass away.

"Out. You don't need me here anymore do you, General? Or do I require your dismissal now?" you ask bluntly, turning to the Jing Yuan you're used to. The one who's supposed to be in this timeline. "If you need anything, I'm sure Diviner Fu would love to be of assistance."

You don't bother to wait for Jing Yuan to say anything, pivoting on your heel and marching out of the Exalting Sanctum. You glance at your other self, a bitter feeling rising in your chest when they look at you disapprovingly. You can tell they want to say something but one brief look to the side, where the two Jing Yuans stand, and they close their mouth and turn around. Regardless, there's no reason for you to stick around longer. As long as the time travelers stay within the exalting sanctum, no one will know they ever appeared in the first place.

As you near the exiting doors, nodding to the guards on each side, you spare one last glance back. Your sudden departure hasn't halted anything and Jing Yuan is speaking to both his other self and you. Yanqing huddles close, one of his hands in your other self's hand, as he tries his best to participate in the discussion. Realistically, you should set aside your petty pride and march back to help. Do something other than running away and letting everyone else pick up the pieces for you. But the doors are already open and you need a sweet drink desperately.

There's been a growing sour taste on your tongue every time your Jing Yuan stares longingly at the other you.

Dan Feng

There isn't a single word to describe the situation you're in right now. Strange? Uncanny? Just super weird? You've seen and done a lot of weird things in your long life, but this is the absolute weirdest thing that has ever happened to you - and you've seen a star collapse before.

“If you keep making that expression, it’ll stick on your face,” Jing Yuan muffles his laugh under his hand, keeping up with your brisk pace as you not-so-subtly run away from the situation thrust into your hands. A tactical retreat you call it. You give Jing Yuan a pained grimace for a brief second before focusing straight ahead again.

“Jing Yuan, I will make sure your promotion to General is riddled with paperwork,” you say straight-faced. He knows you’re lying, you adore your pseudo-nephew too much to do that to him, but it does make him jolt and respectfully keep his mouth shut. However, in exchange, it makes the third pair of footsteps all the more louder. The source of your current predicament and Jing Yuan's amusement. You peer over your shoulder at the young man just to make absolutely sure that you're not hallucinating. A tall, slender young man with blue eyes, fair skin, and black hair stares right back at you before quickly averting his gaze back to the ground. Even with his unique coat and clothing, he has the splitting image of that old lizard. Even though this stranger is younger...and without a stick up his ass either.

He said his name was Dan Heng. A "traveling guard" for the renowned Astral Express. He had sworn on his life that he was telling the truth but that didn't change the fact of who he looked like. If Jing Yuan hadn't been there to vouch for him, then you would have attempted to throw him off the Luofu yourself. According to Jing Yuan, he found the young man "asleep" under one of the ginkgo trees, but otherwise wasn't doing any harm to anyone. He had just appeared with no way to return to where he came from.

At least you have one thing in common: you both don’t want to be here.

"So, are you a distant relative? Is this your first time visiting the Luofu? Oh! Are you here to visit him for vidyadhara business?" Jing Yuan spitballs one question after the other, his barely contained excitement shining through. He had slowed his pace to walk side-by-side with Dan Heng, illustrating the differences between them. Jing Yuan barely reaches Dan Heng's waist, the standard cloud knight uniform looking plain compared to the other's elaborate coat. Teal clashing with blue. Although, they match in their one red accessory flapping in the wind.

Dan Heng awkwardly coughs into his hand, before giving Jing Yuan a rather embarrassed look, "I don't think it'd be wise for me to say anything. If you have any questions, you should ask my teacher..."

Dan Heng shoots you a look as he says the word 'teacher', to which you raise an eyebrow right back. You've never seen this specific man in your life, let alone taken on any students. You don't even like kids that much unless their name is Jing Yuan and even, he isn't fully nestled in your heart. But that's another weird thing about this whole situation. This mysterious "teacher" apparently came along for the ride, yet the man won't spare a single detail about them. Vague descriptions that could be for anyone but wouldn't be a definite confirmation. All in all, it's been a headache and not something you wished to do on a bright and sunny morning. It's frankly out of your pay grade to be babysitting wandering travelers, even if they look like the High Elder.

“We’re here,” you call out, abruptly stopping your near sprint as you feel two bodies collide into your back. One has the decency to step back with an apology while the other clings to your arm as he peers around your waist.

"The forge?" Jing Yuan questions, tilting his head almost fully sideways as the three of you look up at the unassuming blacksmith shop.

"Yep, we're visiting the only adult of the group. Come on, Yingxing should still be inside," you say eyes forward but your arm reaches behind you to hold onto the retreating body of Dan Heng, who has been quietly trying to step away as soon as you confirmed just where you were. Jokes on him, you're the master of running away from your problems- retreating. You're the master at tactical retreating.

Although it’s muffled, you can hear some commotion going on inside. Maybe an unruly customer who didn’t read the fine print and is now venting their frustration? You share a look of confusion with Jing Yuan as you strong-arm Dan Heng into coming inside.

Entering the store, it looks relatively normal? There's nothing out of place or anything to show there was a scuffle, but the argument is getting louder sounding from the back of the store, into the forge. Which is strange for two reasons. Firstly, Yingxing may not be a dragon but he guards the forge with his life. Secondly, the only other people allowed in aren't even in the area. A mutual understanding passes through the three of you, Dan Heng finally giving up on trying to escape with the death grip you have on his arm, and you all tip-toe to the back door. Jing Yuan being the smallest reaches the door first, his head peeking out, your head above his as you squint into the room, and Dan Heng above yours with a look of defeat.

“You selfish old lizard! I’d outta cut your tail off right now for all the trouble you caused you senile son of a-“

"Please calm down, this is still the High Elder you're speaking to!"

What you see is something you'd never expect to see, and you need to reiterate that you've seen a literal star collapse. An older version of you is being held back by Yingxing as they throw threats and cusses at Dan Feng, who looks relatively unbothered by the promises to maim him.

“Teacher!”

Dan Heng, who has kept the most monotone voice imaginable since meeting him, suddenly pushes himself forward. A small "ah!" comes from Jing Yuan as he flops onto the floor from the sudden movement. A spear you've definitely seen before materializes in his hand as he goes to swing at Yingxing, only to be parried away by an identical spear. If you thought the tension between your first meeting with Dan Heng was rough, this feels like the Aeons themselves are fighting against each other. Yingxing and the other you have gone slack in surprise as two vidyadhara's who share the same face are kept at a standstill. Two cloud piercers pointed at each other, poised and ready to strike again, the air growing more humid with sticky beads of water vapor suspended in the air. Well, if you had any doubts about Dan Heng looking way too similar to Dan Feng, this pretty much confirms it. They're the same person.

Your eyes slide to the other you.

A falling star has nothing on this.

Sunday

There's something off about this entire situation, and there are enough oddities to begin with, but there's just something that doesn't sit right with you. Was there such a thing as a second puberty? Is that what a "mid-life" crisis was? Aren't you supposed to dye your hair and buy a sports car when that happens? Because the person walking next to you is certainly not you. They're too...peppy.

When you first saw the "future you", you had assumed they were a figment of someone's imagination. A dream perhaps? In Penacony, it would definitely be possible, but who would want to dream of you? The other you didn't seem that weird either, just a bit older and more well-mannered, but otherwise exactly the same. They had greeted you cheerfully, even coming up to shake your hand because "it was the polite thing to do when greeting friends.". You didn't know how to react to that wording so you brushed it aside. Maybe in the future, you're some big shot? That's kind of exciting to imagine.

"So...any idea how you got here?" you ask, turning to the other you. It's kind of funny that you're escorting yourself but you doubt the future you remember's the winding pathways the Bloodhounds take to the main base. Although your boss is quite nonchalant, Gallagher has always had a steady head on his shoulders. If you can't figure out a way to fix this time travel business, he can at least play damage control.

"I'm not entirely sure. I was about to set out to welcome some new friends on behalf of my husband, and then I was suddenly here. Oh, I hope he isn't upset with me for disappearing," your other self hums, a hand on their cheek, before quickly jolting up, "Ah, I guess I should say our husband now."

You let out an awkward laugh to match their giggle. Although your future self doesn't look that much older than you, it seems you managed to get hitched with someone great. They always seem to slip the word "husband" into every sentence, heck- you're making new friends because of him. Your mother would weep tears of joy learning that fact. Although it does make you curious just who your supposed husband is. The only man you see more than once in your life is Gallagher, and respectfully, he's not your type. But then who else? Perhaps one of the patrons? You've heard the news that the IPC sent a handsome gambler with beautiful eyes. Perhaps that's who you've fallen in love with? You don't want to ask because you don't want to mess up the timeline and frankly, you don't want to ruin the surprise. To be honest, even though you never thought about marriage, it kinda makes you giddy knowing that in the future, you seem to love your husband so much. A bit too much but it's probably the honeymoon phase train never stopping.

You still can't help but shake the feeling that something is horribly wrong.

There's just the slightest sinister curl in their smile. As if they're secretly laughing at the expense of everyone while keeping on an angelic facade. It's unsettling and makes chills down go your spine when it's your face that does it. The only time you've felt this sense of unease was when you accidentally stumbled into Gallagher's private meeting with the Head of the Oak Family. The Halovian had simply smiled, inquiring who you were and holding his hand out for you to shake. Your fingers had just brushed against his white glove when Gallagher stepped in, gripping your wrist hard enough for bruises, and forcibly pushed you out the door.

"Someone not important."

That's what your boss had said. You thought he spoke so harshly because he was pissed at you for possibly giving the Oak Family a bad first impression. He pretended it never happened and you never brought it up, afraid he might fire you from your job.

"I don't mean to pry, but are you alright?"

You blink, shaken out of your thoughts by your future self's question. They smile at you kindly, a slight tilt to their head as they wait for you to answer patiently.

"Oh! Sorry, I kinda spaced out there for a bit..." You let out an awkward laugh. Your voice sounds weak even to you, but the other you just nods in understanding. Perhaps it's because it's technically you that you're talking to, or that feeling of foreboding, that you feel like you need to explain yourself, "I guess I haven't been sleeping well. Gallagher has me running errands on the other side of Penacony in preparation for the Charmony Festival. Between you and me, I think he's dumping his errands on me so he can slack off."

Your lighthearted chuckle tapers off when the other you doesn't respond in kind to your joke. In fact, bringing up Gallagher's name has completely cleared their face from that prim and proper mask. Leaving behind a blank expression with disinterested eyes before a blink, and there's that same smile smeared on.

"You speak rather fondly of him. It seems I'm farther into the past than I originally thought," they mumble to themselves. Although you pick up on the words easily, you double-take just to make absolutely sure those words came from them. Sure, Gallagher isn't the most traditional-looking boss but he's not a bad person. Especially not to you. When you were looking for a job, he was the one to approach you out of the blue to work under him as a Bloodhound. If he never showed up, you would have most likely wasted away as a paper pusher for one of the families. He's always forgiven your mistakes and always offered to escort you home even though you can take care of yourself. So why is your future self so unfriendly to someone you currently hold in high regard?

"Oh uh...did something happen between us and Gallagher? I mean, I always suspected I'd get fired but I don't know, I always thought we got along. I mean, he has been acting a bit weird since that Oak Family Head came around but he's probably just stressed, right? Oh wait- I don't think we should be talking about this. I don't want to start a butterfly effect, especially so close to the festival-" you muse only to get interrupted.

"If I were you, I wouldn't trust that dog so easily," your other self spits with so much venom that you take a step away. Is it possible that you misjudged how close you were with Gallagher? Your other self talks about him as if he had betrayed them on a personal level. This shouldn't be possible because you and Gallagher have a strictly professional relationship. Unless you potentially knew him before you arrived in Penacony? To be fair, your memory gets a bit hazy looking back but you're sure you would remember someone like Gallagher.

"Wha- Hey, I don't know what happened but you shouldn't call him a dog-"

"We're here."

You stop in your tracks. What? We're here? You look up and realize that you've completely walked off the beaten path and happened upon a door. In fact, if you remember correctly, this was the door you stumbled into when you first met that Halovian. When did it become your other self escorting you rather than the other way around? You thought they wouldn't know these back alley pathways anymore.

"Why are we here?" you ask tentatively. Realistically, you know nothing bad will happen to you, at least not physically. You're their past. Whatever happens to you will affect them. A small scrape here will become a scar for them later.

"You haven't been sleeping well correct? I remember when I used to have headaches all the time. But you'll be okay now, he'll make things all better. While it's a bit early, I'm sure you'll understand. You are me after all," they smile sweetly, taking your hand in theirs as they pull you in front of the door.

"Come now, let's go meet our husband. He's been eagerly waiting for you for a long time."

---

Small author's note: I fell into a pit and wrote way too much. If I didn't cut it off, this fic would take another year to finish. That's why there's no real ending, lol.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 1: (Caramel Apple) Vincent Sinclair

Welcomer everyone to day 1! There's not much to say that I haven't already so I hope you all enjoy day 1 as well as the other fics I have prepared for this month! <3 Notes: Minors DNI, Canon typical violence if any. Vincent used sign language in this, the sign language will be in Italics. Support me: KO-FI

The half rotted door to Vincent's basement workshop groaned out a long winded squeak when you pushed it open. You grabbed it before it could slam against the wall at the top of the stairs. It was about 2am and you could never be to sure if Vincent had fallen asleep down in the workshop or not.

You stepped on each stair one at a time. You had been down to the basement so many times in the middle of the night you had the spots that creaked memorized and you knew how to meticulously step around them or at least cause the least noise. You counted each stair in your head until you reach the bottom step, you peered around the dimly lit workshop before your eyes landed on your target.

"Vince"

A soft, near whisper cut through the silence. A white masked face shot up from where he was sitting. His shoulders untensed and he quickly rose from his seat, wax project quickly forgotten on the table in front of him as he made his way over to where you were standing.

"I came to get you, It's like 2:30 in the morning Vin."

Vincent froze for a split second, his eyes darting to the usually wrong digital clock he kept by his work space. Years prior Vincent didn't care when he finished work, most nights sleeping in his workshop for lack of having any real reason to go back to the house. It all changed when you fell into his lap, his muse, his reason.

"Sorry, Clock never works right, meant to come home hours ago."

One of the greatest things about you, Vincent had decided, was that you had taught him sign language. When the two of you had first met Vincent hated not having a way to communicate besides writing messy, barley legible scribbles on a piece of paper. Though to be fair you didn't want to talk much to the man who was once your captor when you had first ventured into Ambrose all those years ago.

Bo had sworn to him you were only getting close to try and escape. Bo had yelled, screamed and bitched about how much time Vincent was spending with you, how every time Vincent would let you out, or go to see you that he was putting Ambrose at risk.

Vincent didn't really care though, having grown up with it his entire life he was used to Bo's incessant yelling about nothing of any real substance. Eventually and very, very begrudgingly, Bo relented and you were integrated into daily life in Ambrose.

"Vince?"

Vincent jolted, realizing his mind had wandered. He signed you an apology and then motioned for your hand.

"Wow your actually listening and coming to bed? I'm honored Vince"

Vincent rolled his eyes, and you could tell his face under his mask held something akin to a "Really?" expression. You drag him along by his hand, leading him up the stairs and out of the wax museum into the cold Louisiana night.

"I saved you a plate of dinner I can heat up when we get to the house"

"You don't have to do that"

"Why wouldn't I? You haven't eaten like all day"

"I've eaten"

"A granola bar that was probably expired from the gas station doesn't count"

Vincent shrugged again, He had a terrible habit of taking care of not taking care of himself and he knew you knew as well as he did. You shot him a smile and weaved your fingers together as the two of you walked home. Vincent pulled his hand away to sign something quickly.

"You're such a mother hen"

"If wanting you to be taken care of makes me a mother hen, then a mother hand I shall be"

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Vincent slotted his hand back into yours and walked the rest of the way home. He knew you'd heat up his dinner plate, tsk at him for not eating and tell him to start taking better care of himself. He knew that he would nod but wouldn't listen and he knew that you knew he would do exactly that but at the end of the day you would never really mind.

Vincent liked being taking care of, you knew he liked being taken care of. If he wanted to call you a mother hen, then a mother hen you would be.

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night she decided to join the Bloodrite

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: mention of violence, val's dad being an asshole again

summary: Valeria realizes that the only person she has to prove her worth to is herself.

A/N: we're finally at the last imagine! (you can find the collection of them here) this is one of the first ones I wrote and I've been dying to post it lol. I had originally planned for this series to end here but then I decided to write a short story that focuses/provides closure on Az's and Val's mating bond.

**

As Valeria stood on the balcony, the ethereal glow of Starfall painted the night sky in hues of pale greens and blues. The annual migration of spirits race across the heavens like shooting stars, leaving a luminescent trail that left the world below aglow.

For Valeria, however, the beauty of Starfall was a double-edged sword.

She could hear the whispers of the spirits as they streaked across the night sky. It was like a collective murmur of voices of which she could not discern, which made it all overwhelming and disconcerting. It’s been this way since she was a child and she never fully understood why she was the only one able to hear them.

The first Starfall she could remember was when she was three. Every year, the High Lord would throw a ball at the House of Wind as it was the best place to view the falling spirits. Her mother had brought her to the balcony she currently stood at, holding her in her arms.

There was a silence as the guests waited for the first star to fall, hushed whispers of awe when it finally did. Valeria remembered the beauty of it all but more so when one star became two until they multiplied and then she heard them. The spirits. She had let out a cry, her small hands covering her ears as the voices became too much. Her mother had brought her inside and a worried Rhysand had walked over to them.

Valeria also remembered the look of disdain and disappointment on her father’s face–the first of many to come.

Shadows whirled around her, bringing her back to the present and weaving through her senses. The whispering voices, like distant echoes, grew faint, muffled by the protective shroud of Azriel’s shadows. Valeria’s eyes met his, gratitude and relief reflected in the pale moonlight.

“Should we head inside?” Azriel offered, extending his arm out to her. “Before Mor and Cas drink all the wine.”

Valeria nodded, hooking her arm through his. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body and instinctively, she leaned in closer to him, finding his scent comforting. “You smell good,” she murmured to him as she inhaled.

Azriel chuckled in response, savoring their close proximity. No one batted an eye toward them as they made their way inside. Azriel was known as the Night Court’s spymaster and his duty was to ensure the safety of his court. It was not uncommon to see him around the High Lord and his family, especially Rhysand and Valeria.

“My little warrior!” Cassian called out to her sweetly, words slightly slurred, as he jumped from his seat and pulled Valeria from Azriel, crushing to her chest. He pulled away with a grin, nodding at Azriel casually.  “And Az.”

“I can feel the love.” Azriel dryly commented.

“Come here, Val.” Mor said, patting the empty spot on the couch.

“How many glasses of wine have you had?” Valeria mused as she sat down, gaze flickering between Mor and Cassian.

“Yes.” Mor grinned at her as she poured a glass for Valeria and then another for Azriel.

Save some for me.

Has anyone told you it’s rude to enter one’s mind without permission? Valeria replied to her brother’s voice, sending him a vulgar gesture through her mind. She could hear his chuckle fade into the distance.

Knock knock. Her brother’s talons were playfully tapping at her mind’s shields again.

With a roll of her eyes, she allowed them in, asking him what he wanted. He decided to show her instead. Through his eyes, she saw the lords and her father standing before him. They were all discussing the growing tensions among the humans and fae and the battles of rebellion that have risen. Keir was speaking, boasting about his Darkbringers and how they could put an end to the war before it can even begin. She could feel Rhysand’s boredom as Keir kept talking.

Come save me.

Sorry brother but I find this couch to be rather comfy, Valeria replied, her tone teasing. She grinned as Rhysand sent her a vulgar gesture of his own through his mind.

“--helping with preparations for the upcoming bloodrite.”

Valeria brought her wine glass to her lips as she returned her attention to her friends. She caught her brother’s glare from across the room but ignored it.

“Can you believe it’s been three years since you went?” Mor asked them. “And look at you Carynthians now. A general, a spymaster and a future High Lord.”

Valeria’s fond smile mirrored Mor’s and she turned, catching the way both Cassian’s and Azriel’s cheeks tinted at the praise.

“Do you think they’re ready?” Valeria found herself asking, referring to the warriors Cassian had helped train this year.

“I wasn’t ready when I was in their shoes.” Cassian said after a moment of thought. “I don’t think you’ll ever feel ready for something like that. But I was brave and that’s the best thing one can be.”

Valeria hummed in response, cradling her wine glass in her hands. Intrigued by the upcoming Bloodrite, she found herself firing more questions at Cassian while Mor and Azriel fell into a conversation of their own.

They were questions she didn’t dare to ask Rhysand or Azriel, knowing they wouldn’t be blatantly honest about it for her sake. Without a second thought, Cassian answered each one, much like he did when she had asked about Tanwyn and the Valkyries. 

He failed to notice the gleam in her eyes as she took in every detail of information. 

**

Valeria paced back and forth, attempting to stir up the courage that had led her to the heavy set of double doors. She made up her mind weeks ago–told herself she could do this. But as she stopped her pacing and faced the doors to the High Lord’s throne room, her hands broke out into a cold sweat.

She hated herself for it, for the instant fear that brewed in her when it came to him. Her father.

Since that night in Windhaven, he had chosen to go back to ignoring her presence completely, as if she didn’t exist at all.

I am the storm. She repeated to herself. 

Val, now is not a good time. 

Now is the only time. She replied, cursing herself for being so nervous and anxious that she had absentmindedly let her mental guards down. 

Before Rhysand could reply, she pulled the doors open and strolled in. Her eyes darted around–widening for a fraction before she donned a composed mask.

I told you so.

She ignored her brother’s voice–this time cursing him directly– and did her best to ignore the presence of the others in the room. Cassian and Azriel looked toward her, the latter standing to attention. Meanwhile Keir looked at her with annoyance. There was another lord that she recognized as one of the High Lord’s advisors but she didn’t recognize the older Illyrian male standing next to Cassian. She could only assume he was also a general.

Her father scowled, his lips curving into a sneer. “What do you want, child?”

She tried her best not to flinch at the insult.

“I want to join the fight.”

Laughter erupted from the High Lord, followed by Keir’s. “You want to fight?”

“I’ve trained with the Valkyries in the past and–”

“Remind me how that ended for you.” Her father sharply interrupted.

The reminder of that night triggered a subtle twitch in one of the muscles on the right side of her back–the very spot where her injured wing, glamored away for the night, would attach. Rhysand’s body tensed. She felt Azriel shift closer, a muscle tightening in his jaw while his shadows loomed nearby, alert and ready. Even Cassian’s expression hardened, mouth set into a hard line.

“It was hardly a fair match, Father.” Rhysand spoke as he came to stand in between his sister and father. “Val has the–”

“And you think war is won by fair matches?” His father reprimanded. “I thought I’ve taught you better than that.”

Anger flooded through her veins. “I’m not going to stay sheltered in this palace while our people go to war for us. I want to stand with them, not behind them. I want to bring honor to our court.”

“Clearly, you do not know your place. You’d know that the only way you can bring honor to this court is by marrying–”

“I refuse to be treated as a bargaining tool as if I am an object!” Valeria snapped, shocked by the intensity of her own voice. Though quieter when she spoke next, her voice retained the same powerful understone as she added: “I would rather die fighting to serve my court than offer my hand to a stranger.”

She felt the sting on her cheek almost immediately, her feet stumbling backwards at the impact. A low growl erupted from behind her as strong hands caught her before she could stumble further. Shadows crept out from his grip and wrapped themselves around her as if to protect her from further harm.

Rhysand stilled, his hands clenching at his sides. His calm and collected demeanor fell, no longer being able to hide the glare toward his father. He moved to stand in front of Valeria, offering his body as a shield, in case their father chose to strike again.

“You stupid foolish girl.” The High Lord chuckled with fury in his eyes, his voice rising with every word. “Sons get sent to war. Daughters get married. Rhysand is my heir. He was born to serve and protect. You were born to obey and submit.”

“Count your stars lucky that these three–foolish as they were– saved you that night.” The High Lord continued. “They will not be able to save you next time so I suggest you leave before I decide to clip your wings myself and strip this fighting nonsense off of you.”

Valeria felt her anger morph into her power. She could feel the light surging through her, running down her arms and into her finger tips. She wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off of her father’s face. A small part of her wanted to light him up, the way she did those Illyrian men that night. If only he knew…

She felt a hand grasp hers, darkness wrapping itself around his fingertips and dimming her light. Don’t explode. Not here, Rhysand spoke in her mind.

“There will be no next time.” Rhysand said, his voice carrying an almost threatening undertone. He would not allow her father to inflict any more harm on his sister. “If you allow me, I’ll escort Valeria to her chambers. I believe some rest will settle her mind.”

The High Lord nodded his head in dismissal and Rhysand wasted no time in escorting her out of his office. Rhysand released his grip on Valeria's hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders instead, allowing his darkness to wrap around her silver flames. Neither of them spoke as they made the long trek to her chambers and neither of them paid attention to the tendril of a shadow that followed along with them.

It wasn’t until they were in Valeria’s chambers that she let her shoulders slump, tears brimming her violet eyes but she did not allow them to fall.

“What were you thinking?”

Valeria shot him an incredulous look as if he hadn’t been in her mind the entire time. He knew exactly what she was thinking and why. Rhysand sighed deeply and sat at the edge of her bed, patting the spot beside him. Valeria reluctantly listened and watched in silence as he summoned a small bowl of warm water and a cloth. “You’re bleeding,” he softly said.

Her hand shot up to her cheek, wincing at the sting, pulling her hand away to see that she was, in fact, bleeding. One of her father’s rings must’ve cut her when he slapped her. It was the first time he had ever laid hands on her.

Valeria knew the answer to the question but she needed to hear it aloud. “Is my sole purpose in life to obey and submit to others?”

“Of course not.” Rhysand immediately answered as he finished cleaning the dried up blood from her face. He gently cupped her unharmed cheek. “You're destined for a greater purpose. Fuck what father says.”

A subtle curve graced Valeria’s lips in response to Rhysand’s insult, only to fade back into a frown. She pulled away from his grasp. “What will it take to prove to him that I am worthy of so much more than he has planned for me?”

“I failed him at birth and I’ve dedicated my life to prove my worth to him. I may have not been born a son but why does that anger him so much? He already has you, his heir. I understand the politics of this war. I can fight. I want to fight.”

“I know you can.” Rhysand said, acknowledging her skills and capabilities. Had it not been for her father putting an end to her training with the Valkyries, he was sure she would’ve been initiated as a Valkyrie herself. “But don’t dedicate your life to proving yourself to others. The only person you need to prove your worth to is yourself.”

Silence fell as Rhysand’s words sunk in. He was right. Her trying to prove her worth to others would only weigh her down. Noticing the distant gaze on his sister, his powers reached for her mind, easily granting him access to her inner turmoil.

It only lasted a couple of seconds as Valeria’s mental shields rose and he blinked back to find that she was now glaring at him. 

“Can you not?”

Rhysand raised his hands up. “It’s not my fault you let your shields down for a moment.” 

Have I taught you nothing?

Valeria let out a groan. “Go away now. I’m tired.”

“That’s no way to treat your loving brother.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She said as she stood up, motioning for him to follow her and go out her door.  

Rhysand rolled his eyes at her antics but complied. She slammed the door shut, pressing herself against it. “Love you. Good night!” 

Love you too.

Valeria huffed at the sound of her brother’s laughter in her head. She closed her eyes and focused, pushing his claws out of her head. He scraped against her rising shields in a teasing manner only for her to shoot him with light and far away from the gates of her mind that she felt him wince.

It was when she was sure that Rhysand could no longer get into her head that she walked out to her balcony. She stared up at the crescent moon, finding comfort in its light and falling deep in thought again. 

It unsettled her to know that her brother, Azriel and Cassian were being sent to war. Even Mor was preparing for it as she was no longer under her father’s rule but Rhysand’s. He had taken full responsibility over her when she had moved in with them. As for Valeria, she was expected to just sit back and wait for war updates with her mother. She could not bear the thought of doing nothing while her loved ones laid their lives down for the Night Court. Especially not when she had dedicated the past five years of her life into training to defend herself, to fight.

Rhysand was right. She knew what she was capable of. She had not been saved that night in Windhaven. She had fought against five skilled Illyrian warriors by herself and she was willing to die fighting. 

Valeria was aware that fighting in a war was different. It required not only courage and strength but strategy and resolve. And what better way to prove to herself that she was ready–that she was worthy–than by joining the upcoming Blood Rite?

It was like Cassian had said, she would never feel ready for a strenuous trial like the Blood Rite. But she was brave to face it and that’s the best thing one can be.

**

tag list:  @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

A/N: and that's a wrap on Val's early life (': the storyline I have planned will pick up right after the blood rite and you'll get a glimpse into her experience. I debated a lot on whether Val should join the blood rite or not. I decided to allow her because all she wants is to be treated with the same love and respect like her brother minus the heir part and while she gave up on what others may think of her, this is something she needed to do for herself. and also a part of her is doing this to honor her friend, Mallory Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed these imagines as much as I enjoyed writing them <3 I will be taking a short break to focus on my upcoming exam but if you have any questions over this series or simply just wanna talk, feel free to send me an ask! (:

[cambion-companion]

I cannot concentrate on my work (ironically as a TA writing up my phd thesis) because I read your intelligence 8 tav x raphael fics and now I am shaken to the core and all I wanna do is daydream about being a clueless little slut in the house of hoep

please saer can I have some more

hahaha I'm so glad that brain worm took root, intelligence 8 Tav is delightful. I also wanted to incorporate this lovely ask as well and express my gratitude for the support you all have given me this month. All is well! Enjoy a drabble with a Tav/reader utterly oblivious to the true nature of a cambion...to them he's just a tiefling with wings! how cool!

Raphael + reader (gn) drabble

(I'll probably write another that's more romantic/cute but this was too funny to pass up)

"You have an uncanny talent at getting into the most outlandish situations." Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, inhaling a deep breath.

You looked around at the decadent room he'd rented for himself, steam rising from two baths and flower petals ornamenting the lush red carpet. "I wouldn't think a devil-guy would be the sort to have tulips thrown about."

"Roses." Raphael corrected, his hand clasping firm about your upper arm just in time to save you from slipping on the wet tile and braining yourself. "I would wager a hefty sum of gold your mind does not entertain too many thoughts at one time."

"Thank you." You murmured, touched. You allowed him to escort you to safety upon a chair and watched with vague interest at how his lips twisted in bemusement. "I should thank you for saving my bacon back there. Wasn't expecting to survive that. But Shart always gets Withers to bring me back when we run out of those glowy scroll things."

"I do believe I sense a migraine coming on." Raphael squeezed his eyes shut briefly before crossing to pour you both a glass of dark brown alcohol.

You took the fancy crystal glass and downed the drink with gusto, only realizing your mistake when the scorching whiskey had passed into your gullet, and you burst into a coughing fit. Raphael sighed and gave you a solid couple thumps on your back as you struggled to breath. "There now. Death by imbibing spirits too eagerly is no way to enter the afterlife. Not until you've served your purpose, at least."

"What?"

"I'm concerned for your well-being, dear."

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve. "That's really nice of you, Raph." He winced at the nickname but just barely managed to keep a pleasant neutral expression. "I don't know why everyone else threw such a fit about you, you're not a bad dude."

"I'm flattered." Raphael almost felt a sense of annoyance at how easy this was. He enjoyed a challenge, and this mortal was certainly not bringing it. He drained his glass fluidly and returned it with a clink to the table. "Now, your person is more or less stable for the time being."

You looked around, checking behind you. "What person?"

"Your body has been plucked from the peril you so naively flounced into." Raphael clarified, a slight edge to his words now, he was running low on patience. "Be a good mouse and run along, fetch me the crown and we can part ways amicably."

"I never imagined mice to be much good at fetching." You mused, rising to your feet as Raphael practically pushed you from his room. "That seems more a dog's forte. Oh, we have a most wonderful dog back at camp-"

The door closed in your face, so close it almost clipped your nose. You stared at the dark wood for a moment, then smiled and shrugged. You spoke a little louder so he would be able to hear through it. "His name is Scratch! What was I saying? Oh yes, dogs fetch crowns and balls better than mice! Maybe keep that in mind when giving people animal nicknames!"

No answer.

He must have gone to take a nap. You were sure cambions probably did that often since they seemed to act much like cats in every other way.

Smiling to yourself you departed, convinced that you and Raphael were now bosom friends.

[anxious-witch]

So a continuation of this soulmate poly! JO au

So! Again, this is not my usual high quality stuff, isn't beta read or edited and I have been feeling kinda eh about writing lately so...yeah. Be warned before going into it. But so many of your wanted some sort of conclusion so I had to give you one. I hope it's at least somewhat satisfying.

This needed a warning for vomitting not the last one my bad, also TW for Bojan's general low self esteem

Bojan wasn't feeling well. And it wasn't only because he was hungover from the whole spiked drink yesterday. No. It was also due to the fact that now they all knew that he was their fifth soulmate.

He woke up surrounded by three of them. Jure was curled around his right side, with Kris' arm thrown over both him and Bojan. Bojan was snuggled in Jan's chest and Jan's hand protectively hovered over his head.

Nace was probably already up. Bojan laid there fir a moment. Soaking in the warmth. For once, his soulmark didn't ache but instead hummed pleasantly. 

It felt so natural, it was hard to remember why he was so scared of it. 

Then a sudden nausea hit him and he had to practically launch himself from the bed. Jan stirred and sleepily called out to him, but Bojan didn't turn. He ran to the bathroom, just in time to throw up in the toilet.

He wasn't sure how he ended up on his knees and gripping the toilet. He also wasn't sure when Jan joined him by sitting on the floor and rubbing his back. 

Only when he stopped throwing up for more than a few seconds did he lean more into the comforting touch. 

"Aren't you supposed to be angry at me?" Bojan mumbled tiredly.

"Oh, I am furious," Jan said easily, "I just don't see the point of having this conversation until you feel better."

Bojan made a pityful sound, closing his eyes. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, his soulmark ached. He just wanted to die.

"You might as well. I am feeling miserable anyway. We can go for full physical and emotional destruction."

Jan sighed and gently ran his head through Bojan's hair. 

"Kris went to make you tea and Jure to dig out some painkillers. Nace will probably make something to eat when he comes back from his run, if he hasn't already."

Jan scratched his scalp, like he was a dog. It was pleasant though and Bojan couldn't help but let iut a sigh and lean into it. 

"I don't deserve you guys."

The fingers in his hair froze. You said something stupid again, Bojan's mind hissed.

"We'll talk about that too."

"I'm sorry."

Jan continued stroking his hair, but didn't reply. Bojan's soulmarked burned like a brand. He hates you, he hates you, he will never forgive you-

Kris arrived at that moment, taking in their state. His eyes softened as he watched them.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit. I don't know if you are asking physically or mentally, but the answer is the same."

Kris crouched down and gently put his hand on Bojan's forehead. His eyes fluttered shut at the gesture.

"You don't have a temperature," he mused, "which means just a bad hangover. You should come back to bed. I bought a bucket if you are sick again. And there is tea and painkillers. Nace is making pancakes too."

Bojan felt a sudden pressure of tears. Why were they all so nice? So considerate? Shouldn't they be yelling and demanding an explanation? He felt like he'd prefer that. It was what he deserved.

"Bojan, hey, what's wrong? Does something hurt?"

Kris gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he realized he was crying. He shook his head and covered him face. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Why wre you all being nice? Why aren't you yelling at me? Why-"

"Shhh." 

Kris hugged him to his chest and Bojan's body shook im his embrace. He kept a litany of apologies through the sobs.

"Jan, go tell Nace to finish pancakes later. I will get Bojan to the bedroom. I think we all need to talk first."

Jan probably nodded, because Bojan heard him get up and step out of the bathroom. Then Kris gently picked him up. Bojan didn't even complain, simply buried his face in Kris' chest. 

He carried him to the bedroom.

"What happened? Is he alright?"

Bojan's heart squeezed at Jure's worried tone, but he didn't feel capable of answering. Which was why he was thankful for Kris.

"I am not sure. He started apologizing and then burst into tears. I think everything is hitting him just now. And you know how the bond can be overwhelming at first."

When he put Bojan on the bed, Jure curled at his back. Bojan reached out with one hand to him. 

And Jure took it, interlacing their fingers. His and Kris' presence calmed him down slightly. Enough for him to stop babbling apologies at least, if not stop crying yet. 

"Oh, Bojan," he heard Nace say from further away. 

Then two more bodies joined the pile. Bojan could recognize each, despite having his face buried in Kris's chest. 

That slowly made him calm down enough to stop the tears and carefully pull back from Kris' chest.

Kris didn't let him go far, gripping his waist when he tried to. Which was ridiculous, because they all surrounded him. He cleared his throat, blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Right. Can we just…get this over with, please?”

“Get it over with?” Jan hissed.

Bojan flinched a bit at his tone, ducking down to hide in Kris’ chest again.

“Jan,” Nace chastised him from somewhere behind his back, “Let's try and do this calmly.”

Jure squeezed his hand and then Jan swore, almost as if someone elbowed him.

“Fine.”

“Bojan, could you sit up, please?” Nace asked.

Did he have much of a choice at this point? Bojan sat up, suddenly much more aware of four pairs of eyes watching him.

He stubbornly stared into his lap.

“Tell us what happened,” Jure urged gently. 

“I was at the bar, I was flirting with a guy. He drugged my drink.”

Jan sighed loudly, but it was Kris who spoke up.

“That's not what we are asking. We want to know why you don't want us.”

That made him snap his head up, staring at Kris in disbelief. Kris, who was biting his lip and looked incredibly close to tears.

“What? I never said that!”

“You made it quite clear.”

Bojan felt as if he'd been slapped. He could take them being angry, or even saying they don't want him anymore, but he couldn't take them thinking he didn't want them.

“That's not true at all! Of course I want you!”

Kris did not look particularly convinced, hunching in on himself. Bojan met Jan's eyes instead.

“Then why didn't you say anything? Jesus, Bojan Kris knows you for a decade.”

“Because by the time I realized, the two of you were already together! And then I couldn't say anything because I thought that if you had each other, why would you want me?”

Jan took in a sharp breath and Kris paled noticeably, but Bojan wasn't done. He turned his eyes to Jure.

“So I kept silent, until Jure came along. And then he fit right in. Not just in the band, but with the two of you. And I thought, fuck, I'm too late. So I didn't say anything again. By the time Nace came into the picture, I-I had no idea what to do. Besides, we all know I would ruin this.”

Jure crossed the distance between them in a second, practically launching himself towards Bojan and pulling him into a hug. 

“Never,” Jure said vehemently.

Bojan felt a sudden wave of love wash over him. It took him a second to realize it wasn't coming from him, but from the Jure's side of the bond.

It was enormous and overwhelming and Bojan was completely unprepared for it. Which made panic seize his chest. 

Then, Nace was there, putting a hand on the back of his neck.

“Breathe. I know it's overwhelming at first, but just breathe through it. Jure, back up a bit he isn't used to the bond yet.”

The sensation eased up a bit, even if Jure didn't let go of him. Bojan took in a shaky breath. 

“Why do you think you'd ruin it?” Kris asked after a moment. 

Feeling their emotions in tandem with their words was new. Even without prying, he could feel hurt and worry from Kris. Bojan realized with a pang that that meant they could feel the turmoil of his emotions, too.

This was exactly what he wanted to spare them from.

“Because of this! I am difficult to deal with. I know all of you know it, because you had to deal with me. But that's different from being in a relationship with me. Kris met like, all of my girlfriends, he can testify.”

Jure's arms tighten against him, paired up with a slight pang of annoyance. Bojan bit his lip to stop himself from apologizing. They should be aware of what they were getting into.

He expected Kris to look angry or maybe defeated, but instead he looked thoughtful. 

“From what I remember of that, the biggest issue was you putting us and the band in general before them. Which wouldn't be a problem here, would it?”

Bojan stared. He never thought of it like that. 

“That's still not a good idea. I am difficult to deal with. You'll get tired of me.”

Jan snorted and Bojan turned to glare. Jan met his gaze calmly.

“Right. Because before this we never took care of you being sick every two to three weeks? Nace didn't calm you when you got panic attacks? Jure and I don't regularly feed you because you are unable to cook more than two meals? Kris doesn't have your schedule memorized and reminds you of what you need to do?”

Bojan felt as if Jan's gaze was burning through him, right into his soul. He ducked his head. Except, Jan reached out and Jure moved, curling at his left so Jan could tilt Bojan's chin up. 

“Look at me.”

So Bojan did, a zing of electricity going down his spine as he did so. Any rational argument he had got thrown outside of the window.

“You borrow our clothes and you cuddle with us and we are all together almost 24/7. Why the fuck would that change if we were in a relationship with you?”

Bojan opened and closed his mouth several times, feeling as if Jan had just knocked out all the cards from his hands. Like all the insecurities that held him back were insignificant in the face of Jan's argument.

His head suddenly started hurting even more and he closed his eyes.

“I don't know.”

“Alright. Postponing the rest of this for later. Bojan, go brush your teeth, we'll bring tea and painkillers in the meantime.”

Leave it to Kris to organize everything in a second. 

“Can't I get a coffee?” Bojan asked, peering at him and pointedly avoiding Jan's gaze.

“After we are sure you won't throw up again. Do you need help getting up?”

Jan finally let go of his chin and Bojan tried not to feel disappointed. He never kissed any of them properly, it was always something for the cameras. 

He wondered what it would be like to kiss them for real. 

That thought scared him enough to jolt him into action and he quickly got up from the bed. Too quickly, since dark spots began to dance in his vision.

Nace swore and reached out to steady him. 

“I'll go with him-”

“No,” Jan interrupted, “you go finish those pancakes. I got him.”

Bojan tensed. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jan, because he did. He trusted all of them with his life. The thing was, Jan seemed the most angry out of all of them and he didn't sugarcoat anything. Bojan wasn't sure how being alone with him would go.

No one protested though, Kris simply exchanged a long look with Jan and then nodded.

Bojan wondered if that simply cane with sharing a bond for so long and then he suddenly felt very, very lonely.

So he didn't protest when Jan took Nace's place and led him to the bathroom. He took his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. Jan walked closer and took his own, so they both brushed their teeth and Bojan tried not to think about how domestic that felt.

That distracted him enough for him not to notice that the toothbrush was the exact same one he had at home until after he finished.

“Since when does Nace have everyone's spare toothbrush?”

“Since we all started dating?”

Bojan started at Jan through the mirror. Jan calmly washed his mouth with water. 

“I haven't been dating you.”

Jan sighed as he stood upright again and put his toothbrush back where it belonged.

“No. But even before the soulmark, you were always considered welcome. I think…on some level we all knew.”

Bojan swallowed against sudden urge to cry again. 

“I should have known. The way you looked when we saw Nace's mark, I-”

“Don't say that. You didn't know because I didn't want you to. It's not your fault.”

Jan gave him a wry smile, shaking his head.

“Isn't it? Maybe if we figured it out sooner, you wouldn't think you were unwanted. For seven years, apparently.”

Jan's emotions were more guarded than Kris’ and yet, Bojan could practically taste the bitterness and hurt pouring from him. 

Bojan couldn't help but reach for him, but as soon as he touched his arm, Jan tensed. 

“I'm sorry. It-it's not your fault, okay? I promise.”

Jan pursed his lips.

“If you say so.”

He stepped closer then closer again, until their chests were almost touching. Jan didn't stop him, but also didn't make any moves towards him, either.

Bojan cupped his face and pressed his lips to his anyway, trying to pour all his mixed feelings into it. Then Jan moved, pinning him back against the sink. Bojan gasped and Jan took that opportunity to deepen the kiss.

There was so much longing in the kiss, Bojan kept trying to pull him closer, making a protesting noise when Jan pulled back.

“This is a bad idea. We need to talk this through first.”

“Oh.”

Jan was probably right. It was not a good idea, especially with the mess of emotions Bojan was feeling. Still, it was difficult not to feel a pang of disappointment. He felt…rejected.

He nodded and hung his head low.

“Fuck. Bojan that isn't-Hey.”

Jan lifted his chin once more and Bojan shivered. Something about the gesture made Bojan feel very small in comparison. 

“I am not rejecting you. This is just because I don't want to take this too far before you feel secure in the bond, okay?”

Bojan swallowed and watched and Jan's eyes traced the movement.

“Okay.”

Jan took in a deep breath and then took a step back. Then he extended his hand out to Bojan.

“Com'on now. The others are waiting.”

Then he was tugged back into the bedroom. Jure and Kris were sitting on the bed and talking quietly, while Nace still didn't return. They went quiet once they entered and Bojan tried not to fidget.

“Don't stop on my account,” he mumbled, trying to get under the covers.

Perhaps he could suffocate himself under the blankets.

“Wait! The painkillers!”

Bojan stopped halfway, and Kris handed his the painkillers and the water. He tried not to make a face at being treated like a child. Firstly Jan with pulling back and now the rest of them eith treating him like he was fragile. They cared and objectively, he was aware he scared them last night.

So he took them and handed the glass back to Kris. Then he got under the covers and buried his face into a pillow.

“Why is he sulking?” Kris asked, directing the question at Jan.

“He kissed me and I said I don't want things to escalate until he feels comfortable with the bond.”

“He wasn't too happy about that, huh?”

Bojan was about to snap at them for talking like he wasn't there, but then another person shuffled under the covers and pulled him closer. Jure.

Jure's emotions were always on the surface and Bojan could feel them much easier than Jan's. There was a sense of deep contentment that he didn't expect.

Jure pressed a kiss into his hair and Bojan felt his annoyance begin to dissipate. Kris shuffled closer and began petting his hair and-yeah, okay, he could get used to that.

He was starting to drift when Nace came back, announcing that the pancakes were done. Bojan groggily got up, rubbing at his eyes.

“You can eat later if you are tired,” Nace said with such a soft look, Bojan felt the need to squirm.

“But I want pancakes,” he protested.

Jan laughed.

“Just let him eat. Maybe that'll wake him up.”

Bojan glared.

“Maybe now I won't go exactly because of that.”

Jan smirked.

“Well good thing we can all carry you then, no?”

“No-”

Nace crossed the room in a few steps and picked him up as if he weighed nothing. Bojan squealed. He knew Nace could pick him up, but actually being picked up was quite different.

He wrapped his arms around Nace's neck, even if he was pretty sure Nace wouldn't drop him.

“Rude,” he mumbled in his neck. 

He was lulled once again into a feeling of contentment that simply radiated from the bond. Was it supposed to feel like that? Did it always feel like that for them? 

Nace gently dropped him in a chair at the dining table. Bojan absent mindedly reached for the pancakes while the others all took their seats.

“Does it always feel like that? The bond, I mean.”

Kris cocked his head.

“How does it feel?”

“Content. Calming. Like…things clicked in place.”

Kris’ gaze softened. 

“Not quite. There was always something missing. Like the connection flowed between the four of us and then it just…hit a wall.”

“Oh.”

Bojan fidgeted with his knife before anxiously taking the jam and smearing it over the pancake. He wasn't sure what to say.

“We have been waiting for you,” Nace added softly.

And this, this was exactly what Bojan wanted to avoid. He covered his face, willing himself not to cry again.

“This is why I didn't say anything. I don't-I can't complete you.”

“You already do.”

He began shaking his head, but then Kris was gently pulling his hands away from his face.

“We already acted like you are a part of this relationship, excluding kissing and sex. You already cuddle and steal all of our clothes. You hate being alone so you are in one of our apartments half the time. You already act like you are our boyfriend, this is just a confirmation you belong with us.”

Bojan felt speechless again. So he did one thing he could think about at that moment. He kissed him.

This kiss was much softer than the one he shared with Jan. Kris kissed almost hesitantly, as if not believing he was real. When Bojan tried to press harder, someone cleared their throat and Kris pulled away.

Of course it was Jan.

“Still not a great idea Bojči,” he reminded him.

Bojan stared at Kris, who was still kneeling by his chair, looking a bit dazed.

“Maybe not such a bad idea, if it'll help convince him,” Nace said, shrugging, “But we should wait until after breakfast.”

Bojan's brain came to a screeching halt.

“C-convince me?”

Jure sighed.

“That we want you. Obviously.”

Bojan swallowed. Don't think about it. But Kris was already kneeling and-

“Kris, go sit in your chair before Bojan has another crisis. And let's just finish eating first, yeah? Then we can discuss other things.”

He felt his cheeks heat at Jan's words and Jure chuckled. Kris simply rolled his eyes and went to take his seat.

They all began to eat and Bojan just tried to take everything in as they fell into easy conversation like nothing had happened.

His world tilted on its axis and…kept spinning, almost exactly the same as it had before. And surely, this would change things. Perhaps even his fears would be confirmed with time.

But for now, Bojan sat with four of his soulmates that he loved more than anyone else and simply let himself breathe.

Bojan was born with four stripes on his stomach. Yellow, red, purple and blue. And for the first time, his pink joined into the rainbow it created.

[confessionsofa-roleplayer]

As someone with high-functioning autism and significant social anxiety, which can cause times where social cues are particularly difficult to pick up on especially when it's over a text format where it's even harder to discern tone and inflection without blatant indicators, there's a part of me that doesn't really get all the complaints I've seen about a lack of communication when it comes to "plotting". I mean, I can understand the perspective that it can come across as a partner being unenthusiastic whenever they're given ideas but don't really try to hash those ideas out themselves. On the other hand, it's also possible those same partners could really just be fine with the ideas they're being given and don't really have anything to contribute, maybe they'd rather get right into writing the thread out instead of just shooting ideas back and forth? I know that's usually what I'm thinking most of the time. A good part of the reason why someone like myself would be a little disinclined towards sharing much in return is also because I'd be afraid of taking one too many liberties with someone else's ideas or maybe crossing a line with anything I might contribute. I'm sure we can all agree how quick to take offense people on here can be and, having been on both sides of the fence on this, it can be upsetting both when someone wildly misconstrues things about your muse's characterizations and headcanons just to fit whatever idea they might have in mind, and when having to correct those misconceptions or explain why certain ideas wouldn't work very well. It just creates disappointment all around, and when people aren't willing to talk out any disagreements like adults, all it does it shut down the plotting just the same as giving canned answers. It's also worth considering that some people may be geared creatively different. It can be difficult sometimes to come up with something when you may not know another person's character, or their own particular brand of characterization, very well, and sometimes the ideas just don't come to all of us unless we've really gotten a feel for another person's character and we can see the potential for things. Some people may just be wired more towards improvisational writing at that and really don't start fleshing things out until they have a premise in their hands, coming up with possibilities and exploring them during the actual interactions. Not to mention there's also roleplayers out there who do nothing but plot, and when it comes time to actually write the thread, they simply just don't want to bother with it because… Well, you already know how the story's going to go at this point because you talked it over. Why bother actually having back and forth replies about it when you pretty much wrote the story already by plotting? I've had that experience plenty of times with others myself. You spend all this time laying the framework for where the interactions will go and then nothing just gets done with it beyond the planning phase because, hey, you already talked about everything by now. I just hope that by pointing these things out that everyone might realize they shouldn't generalize partners who may not communicate as much during the "plotting" phase and are just straight to the point, give short affirmative answers when offered ideas. I think the only fair way you can tell if someone really is just putting all the work off on others to come up with ideas is if you can see them repeatedly doing this, especially if they never act on it. That right there would be the surest sign of someone being disinterested or just lazy. Then again, there could also be reasons for this as well, like maybe your characters just don't really have any sort of chemistry for any kind of meaningful interaction – and that's okay too. No two people are always going to get along or want to have anything to do with each other, and sometimes it takes some attempt at communicating to figure that much out.

[monotonous-minutia]

final thoughts i guess

you just walk into this production thinking it's weird and kind of silly. but then it just works? and it's funny how well it works. and you keep thinking well, eventually it's going to stop working. this opera is so Out There and this concept is so involved.

but it just. stays. good.

it doesn't run out of steam after act 3, like so many productions of this opera do. it fully embraces the weirdness of Giulietta's act. I mean Kayes' version of this act is like a fever dream anyway. why not run with it?

one of the things about it that really gets me is how it shows us Hoffmann's struggle with addiction and how it affects the people around him, particularly those he's closest to, in this case Nicklausse and Stella.

from the start it's clear these two have a rivalry. they both love Hoffmann and neither wants the other to be the center of his attention. but they're professionals and co-workers. they put pettiness aside. at one point Stella even helps the Muse write one of their songs. and when it comes down to it, when Hoffmann has hit rock bottom, the only thing to them that matters is his health and safety. they join forces to try and get him back to reality.

Nicklausse has been with Hoffmann in this from the beginning. he's there when Hoffmann takes his first illicit drug and watches as that one mistake slowly starts to pick Hoffmann's life apart. Hoffmann was young and naive and didn't know what he was doing. Nicklausse watched and rolled his eyes. he didn't stop it. now he has to watch as Hoffmann starts to crumble.

Nicklausse follows Hoffmann throughout his career. they work side by side as Hoffmann's success grows. as his relationship with Stella grows. Nicklausse watches. he doesn't interfere. he's jealous and heartsick but he doesn't know how to reach out, how to show Hoffmann this love and devotion he's had before either of them even knew. he tries, but Hoffmann doesn't see.

he waits. and he watches as Hoffmann's addiction grows. he's there the moment it tears his life apart. he sees the end of Hoffmann's relationship with Stella and the end of his career. Hoffmann falls and Nicklausse catches. he didn't stop it before so all he can do now is be there and love and protect.

but it's hard. Hoffmann is hard.

Hoffmann is ruined. he loses his job and the love of his life. he's homeless, bereft, and isolated. but Nicklausse follows. he follows as Hoffmann sinks deeper and deeper down. Hoffmann drowns himself in drinks and drugs until he doesn't know what's real anymore. Nicklausse tries to pull him out, over and over again. no matter how many times he's hurt. no matter how many times Hoffmann hurts him. because he loves him. he needs to be there. nothing is more important to him.

Stella tries too. She may not forgive Hoffmann for his earlier actions, but she still cares about him and she's a good human being. She taps in when Nicklausse is near his own breaking point. She tries to bring him back, tries to help Hoffmann step back into reality, realize that it isn't all over, this isn't the way to cope. people care about him and want him to be okay.

but he's too far gone, and she can't keep trying anymore. her health and safety is at risk now too, and she can't help someone who's refusing to help himself.

Nicklausse stays.

He stays and watches over him. he catches him when he falls and holds him when he breaks. he helps pick the pieces back up.

Hoffmann sees him.

He sees him but he doesn't know what to do. this has been his life for so long. he doesn't know who he is anymore and how to cope without the crutch he's carried so long.

but every time he reaches out Nicklausse is there. and he will not let go.

Hoffmann has hit rock bottom and there's nowhere left to go. but there's someone here beside him who's always been there. the person who's stuck with him through it all, who's loved him and protected him and never asked for anything in return. who stayed no matter how many times Hoffmann turned away.

Hoffmann has been fighting for his life. when he lets go of his ghosts, he can breath. and Nicklausse is there. he will always be there.

Hoffmann is ready to start again. he goes back to what he used to love. writing and creating. making stories. sharing his creativity with the world.

it's not going to be easy and he knows that. but he has someone who will always be at his side.

Stella is there too. She may forgive him, but she won't truly open up to him again. She wants to see him succeed, but she's chosen her own path. it's her own story. the part she plays in his isn't over, but it's not as big.

But Nicklausse is there and will always be there. he will stay through the fights, through the doubt, the pain, the anger, the withdrawals, the relapses, the effort, the successes, the joy, the triumph.

maybe Hoffmann isn't ready to love him yet. but the day will come. they know it will.

but the important thing is that Hoffmann is ready to live again.

and Nicklausse will always be there.

[quietwisp]

General Relationship Headcanons Venti x Gender Neutral Reader

Thank you @sanswifeandgf the request~

A litttle spicy if you squint :)

——————————————————————~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~——————————————————————

Gently undoing Venti's braids as you two prepare for slumber is something the two of you look forward to every night is a must

Some night the two of you just silently do so, basking in each other's presence and others you two get a little more… mischievous

Gently tugging on Venti's braids, he lets out a whiny gasp in pain "Windblume!! How could you?" He questions in shock, dramatically throwing one arm up to his head as if he's about to faint, and the other over his heart sending you into a giggling fit. "Oh how am I to ever forgive you…" he sighs. Taking advantage of your distracted state, Venti pounces on you, taking ahold of your wrists, causing you to gasp. Slowly gazing upwards you meet with his deep, playful, emerald eyes. Leaning in towards your lips he whispers, "I got you."

I imagine Venti being just a little cold to the touch on average. I don't think he'd realize he is unless you point it out.

If you're the sorta person who's usually hot all the time he is PERFECT to cuddle with

On the other hand, if you're like me and you're always cold the two of you will be clinging to each other under thousands of blankets, but I mean…. Are you two really complaining?

I honestly don't think he'd care who's big spoon or little spoon though I think he'd like to switch it up occasionally

He would definitely enjoy facing you. He really enjoys staring into your drowsy eyes or at your sleeping form as you lay to rest.

He definitely seems like the sorta person to wait until you fall asleep before he does

As an archon I don't think he'd really need much sleep

If you have whether you have difficulty sleeping or fall asleep in an instant I'm positive he's more than happy to keep you company.

If you're the sorta person who can't fall asleep without noise he is more than happy to sing to you, play you a song, tell you a story, or just talk about random topics that come to mind. I mean, who wouldn't wanna listen to his angelic voice?

You know what constantly crosses my mind with Venti? Nicknames.

When it comes to him giving you nicknames, the entirety of the Venti Simp Army has collectively decided that we are in fact his Windblume and I love that nickname so much.

I also love the idea of being his muse, that is one of my favorite nicknames.

His loving eyes filled with nothing but pure and blissful infatuation, as he softly whispers "I love you my muse."

We can forget about My Angel, this one starts being used after you've known each other for a period of time and is only used in private.

Songbird and Dove are cute lil names but I don't think they're one's he uses too often, if anything I could see you using those on him more often, especially if you know of his Archon form (Oml I could write so many fics just rambling on and about scenarios in his Archon form….)

My love & love are basic but I'm down bad for them and the thought of Venti asking "How was your day my love?" Makes me meltttt and being able to just casually call him your love sounds amazing

For him, pretty boy is a MUST but you may just wanna save that for when you're alone, in case things get out of hand.

If you're teasing, hit him with that mocking "Bard." It never fails to liven the mood, though be careful, you may have just started a war

If you call him My Archon ohhhhhh you better be careful.

Instantly, you have caught his attention. His emerald eyes begin to cloud as a sly smirk spreads across his face. "Come again, my little bird?"

Going off of Venti's past I think he mainly would enjoy quality time

He definitely enjoys going to the tavern with you and indulging in a few drinks though if you don't like drinking there's still plenty of other things that the both of you can do. As long as you're by his side, he's more than happy.

Venti likes bringing you to sit on the hand of the Archon Statue near the cathedral, though he generally does this either when something serious is about to happen or if he's been reminiscing on the past, so be sure to prepare some extra cuddles for him.

Windrise is another common date trip that the two of you go on. The majority of the time he plays you a tune as you two sit upon the branch of the tree, taking in each other's warmth.

Whenever the two of you have a picnic you're always dragging each other to the peak of Starsnatch cliff. I know I've briefly mentioned this in another fic but I stand by the fact that they have picnics up there.

On very rare occasions Venti will bring you to Storm terror's lair for a bit of a more important or special date but I think the area makes him sad sometimes due to the past.

Meeting Dvailin though? That would be exciting. I thinks he's a bit shy at first but with enough convincing from venti I'm sure you'll get a lovely trip around Monstadt: Ft. Dvailin

I also think that Venti's fond of physical touch due to his lack of social interaction and love but we'll get into that another time

——————————————————————~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~——————————————————————

I have so many more ideas but I don't wanna cram all of them into this so will save those for another time.

I have been thinking about making this the ENTIRE day and jdjdks I had gotten so many ideas but I didn't write them down so I forgot some and buuuuut it's okay. I hope you lovelies have an amazing day/night/evening. <3

[taylortruther]

Yk with the added context of the Matty-Taylor relationship timeline, I was compelled to go back and reconsider certain songs from her discography and see them differently. Obviously we have The 1, Cardigan, Question..?, Glitch etc but what about the 1989 vault?

I have a strong belief that Taylor re-touches, if not fully edits the vault tracks before the album releases (as evidenced by the punchline lyric on ATW10MV).

Ofc, we don't know for sure, but in Now That We Don't Talk there's that line about the muse "growing his hair long" and Harry hadn't done that till late 2014 (atleast to a noticeable extent) so I felt that maybe that song was written later on.

Anyways, listening to TTPD got me thinking some thoughts. Like Taylor is very deliberate with her word usage on the songs. In Down Bad, the lyric "How dare you say that it's..." is supposed to be auto-filled with the word "over". This instantly made me think of Is It Over Now?

Was "Slut!" about Matty too? I mean if the rumours of a 1975 feature on that song were true, then obviously it has a connection to them? Also, I've always felt it was weird to have that song be about Harry for so many reasons, but whatever.

I mean ofc there's glaring references to Harry on the album, but by now we know that Taylor likes to merge her muses for a single song. She even liked a Tumblr post back in 2015 that related STYLE of all songs to Matty. Not a joke. Twitter recently rediscovered it and went nuts over it.

I feel like many songs we attributed to Harry over the years was just about Matty. I mean it always bothered me how much Taylor seemed to be affected by a 2 month situationship with an 18 year old all the way back in 2012. I mean she never brought up Kennedy or Lautner or Tom like she did with Harry in her later works....now we know that it was most likely Matty.

One part of me believes that So It Goes was also bout him. I mean "you did a number on me" means to mess someone up in a bad way, and I have no idea why she would put that lyric in there otherwise.

Also Ivy and Illicit Affairs were widely regarded to be about the Calvin-Tom-Joe situation...but in retrospect they might've been about Matty. These might sound like mindless rumours to most, but keep in mind that Guilty As Sin and Fresh Out The Slammer exist. Both Ivy and Illicit Affairs were fictional songs, but they expressed her inner feelings (swirled you into all my poems). Again, just theorizing here.

i guess he could be ~swirled~ into a few songs from 1989 tv (anything is possible! we didn't know the full story until the red vault! disclaimer!), but mostly i think what you are picking up on is that... taylor has a pattern in her relationships. and she has stories she tells herself about relationships, or herself, just like we all do, which create songs that share many themes.

like, obviously i don't know taylor, and i could be wrong about anything i write about her lyrics. but while ivy could be about matty (anything is possible!), i think it makes more sense that she has, on a few different occasions, left a dying relationships only after another person she liked came into her orbit. and this isn't even uncommon. lots of people only leave relationships when they have someone in the wings, or they've met someone who makes them realize the grass might be greener.

[oh-my-damn]

You know what, I read through all your post yesterday and today and I want to thank you for shining a light on this problematic behavior. I also want to thank you for allowing me to see his relationship with Jenny from a different perspective.

Jenny like Alba was agreeable in the beginning. I mean she ended her marriage so she could be with Chris. It was all puppy love and dream seventh grade boyfriend at the start. She enjoys being around him and his circle. She loves that she include in everything from Vegas to Disney. I’m her mind she got the quarterback at the price of altering her personality to fit his.

Eventually all puppy love fades and that’s where couples struggle. She begins to question his fuckboy behavior. Why he feels the need to constantly party, go to strip clubs, but the majority of their time together is spent at his house doing what he wants spewing his pseudo intellectual bullshit.

He really fooled Jenny too. She was in a vulnerable time in her life after ending her marriage. It looks like he love bombed her by showing up to her premiere, confer shows and book reading. Spending time with her support system was easy because it’s a few suburbs over so he really doesn’t need to put much effort in.

She starts causing too much trouble and becoming less agreeable so he ends it. He goes back to his fuckboy ways and now Jenny is stuck with the realization that she left her husband for this douche. They talk about each other in interviews, looked awkward AF at the premiere and that’s that.

Until late summer/early fall when the realization hits Chris that he doesn’t need to pick up women and have a FWB rotation with ATL women if he just apologizes. I’m sure he hit her with the it’ll be different this time, I promise to change speech and she fell for it. Nothing changes. It’s just the same shit different day. They continue their relationship because their both in ATL working so it’s easy and convenient. Then they both wrap and the curtains lift up and she realizes she got duped again.

Once a fuckboy always a fuckboy. Chris strikes me as the guy who expects his meat and potatoes on the table when he gets home. I partially blame his upbringing because that’s how he was raised. He had a stay at home mom who did everything for her family and I think he wants the same for himself. If he’s going after an independent woman it’s strictly for the purposes of stripping her independence away from her because I think he gets a big thrill from it. It’s clear he likes being in control. Being in control gives him power over you and your life. If he’s the sole breadwinner then you have to depend on him and can’t really leave. He boxes them in without them even realizing it.

THIS. I COULD NOT HAVE SAID IT BETTER MYSELF.

And the end part !!

I actually mused over this not too long ago bc as you may or may not know, I started writing a book (before all of this) about Chris in a secret relationship and it is still ongoing and when this came out it really spun me for a loop and I couldn't write it for a long time.

Anyway, in it, she's a lawyer, so not in the industry, and they keep it quiet to protect her.

But I had this written down before the articles came out and stuff in my drafts, its an interaction with them that is SO REAL to me bc this is legit what everyone should remember when in a relationship (I know I'm more aware of this due to law school but its an important lesson)

I'm so sorry this is long but I didn't know how to cut it down without losing the point of it, so I'm gonna put it under a cut.

I don't think many of my readers realized how important a conversation like this in a relationship where one partner makes a hell of a lot more money than the other. It's easy to get swept up and give in to it, but then what happens when its over? You're alone, standing there, having given up on your dreams, your safety net, for what? A boyfriend?

Any lawyer knows to never do this because we've seen the cases but I can tell you that it happens way more often than it should.

Anyway, here it is, read if you want, my point is that I agree with everything you said so much !!!!

This is the excerpt from the stranger with the money/work dynamic talk:

"Fuck work," he grumbles sleepily, his voice deep and groggy, "Stay." 

I let out a small laugh, pushing my back into his chest as he wraps a long leg over my hip to press into me more insistently. 

"I can't," I reply with a smile, finding one of his hands and entwining our fingers, "I need to work." 

"Why?" He half whines, huffing against my neck, "Work is no fun, stay here with me. I promise to give you a good time." 

I chuckle, "Well, I need work for money. And you know, that's without mentioning that entire 'I want to achieve my dreams' thing." 

"I have money," Chris murmurs against my neck, "Take some of mine." 

I snort out a laugh, shaking my head in response, "I don't want your money, I want my own money." 

Chris huffs jokingly, his warm breath tickling the back of my neck, "Are you saying my money's no good?"

"Mhmm," I giggle, "That's exactly what I'm saying." 

"How dare you," Chris grumbles, his arms releasing their hold for only a moment before he turns me onto my back. He leans on his forearm to hover over me, a teasing glint in his cerulean blues, "What's wrong with my money?"

I grin as I look up at him, reaching up to card my fingers through his mussed up morning hair, "I didn't earn your money. I earned mine." 

"So?" He questions, leaning down to nudge my nose with his own, "If I wanted to share my money with you, it would technically become yours." 

"Yeah, but that's not how it works," I chuckle, my hand trailing down the side of his face to stroke his beard, "I wouldn't feel comfortable spending money that wasn't my own." 

That makes his brows furrow. He tilts his head, blue eyes gazing over my face before he asks, "You don't think you'd.. ever, feel comfortable with that?"

I mirror his curious look, letting my fingers trail over his cheek, "What do you mean?" 

"Weeelllll...." he drags out the word, maneuvering around until he can place his beefy body between my legs. His upper body hovers over mine, leaning on his forearms, as I let my fingers run through his soft locks. 

"What if," he continues, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "For example, hypothetically, we were married. Would you still feel weird about it?"

I let out a surprised chuckle, tilting my head as I look up at him. My fingers card through his hair as I shake my head, "No, if we were married it would be different." 

"Why's that?" he muses, leaning into my touch with a soft smile on his face. 

"Because then we'd be married," I reply with a smile, "Being married is a whole different type of security. I wouldn't have to worry about becoming reliant on you, or your money, or your lifestyle, and risk that you'd be able to pull the rug out from under me suddenly."

His brows furrow, and I quickly add, "Not that I think you would! Of course not, I just mean logistically, like, rationally, as a lawyer, we know the pitfalls in these types of situations. Becoming reliant on your boyfriend is never a good idea." 

[queerian]

time for another comfort re-read of the Imperial Radch books

starting with Ancillary Justice!

(also because after reading the Translation State ARC I have THINGS I must revisit and THINK about)

the more I read (rather, listen to, because I have the audiobooks until I can obtain a pretty box set of the series) Ann Leckie's books, the more I delight in how she writes abrasive characters who are also liked and loved.

You don’t have to be good and pleasant to be loved You don't have to fawn to be loved You can be stubborn and sulky and selfish and bitter and unhappy and still be loved You can be messed up and still be loved You can be someone that is barely considered a person and still be loved

also god. every time i get to the part where Awn goes to Var deck my heart clenches. that anaander has such "mad king" vibes, she straddles the line between unhinged and probably very close to correct so intensely!!!

i keep thinking about gender inside and outside the radch and this description breq gives of the crowds of people she sees on omaugh station, chefs kiss!!

"An eddying crowd of unnervingly, ambiguously gendered people. I saw all the features that would mark gender for non-radchaai. never, to my annoyance and inconvenience, the same way in each place. short hair or long, worn unbound, trailing down a back, or thick curled nimbus, or bound, braided, pinned, tied. thick bodied, or thin. faces delicate featured or coarse, with cosmetics or none. a profusion of colors that would have been gender-marked in other places. all of this matched randomly with bodies curving at breast and hip, or not. bodies that one moment moved in ways various non-radchaai would call feminine, the next moment, masculine."

also the slow reveal of how seivarden actually cares about breq beyond just ensuring the provider of seivarden’s basic needs won’t suddenly drop her.... like she comes back from her appointment having been set up with clothes, food, and lodging, and immediately notices that breq looks uncomfortable in her meeting with skaaiat and bitches breq out for neglecting her own needs and insisting she’ll be fine [on her own now that she’s registered with the station], she'll see breq tomorrow (willingly! Not out of need anymore!) and breq should rest her injured leg!!!! seivarden.... best worst girl!!! "you don't have to take care of me now, see, please look after yourself!!" (and soon we'll start seeing seivarden more and more forcefully trying to take care of breq!!!)

breq on watching musicals for entertainment: "It was mindless, but the songs were nice and improved my mood considerably" SAME, BREQ, SAME

seivarden, "everything that happens on my watch is my fault", echoing awn unknowingly, and breq does not make even the tiniest internal monologue PEEP while getting visibly more and more uncomfortable!!!

and then seivarden goes off on/about the snooty conservatives!! The Radicalization of Seivarden Vendaai!!!! we're watching her go slowly from "I am important because of my bloodline" to "I am important not because of the circumstances of my birth but because this person has made it eminently clear that my bloodline is irrelevant and I matter to them anyway"

god i would love a seivarden POV from Justice. what she thinks is going on with Breq and what she notices and realizes before things are made clear!!

AND i am once again pining for Anaander backstory. Breq muses "the Radch had used ancillaries long before Anaander Mianaai had made herself into what she was, there just hadn't been quite so many of them." i wanna know what ancillaries in pre-anaander radch were like and i wanna watch anaander's transformation from individual to lord of the radch!!!

"Ancillaries were notorious for their expressionless faces. I could easily keep from smiling." Sure, Breq.

Seivarden standing up to Omaugh Anaander because she's more loyal to Breq than the Lord of the Radch….. god. I love Seivarden

[springvaletales]

⋆ NAME?: Soli

⋆ PRONOUNS?: She/They (anything goes, really, so long as it's not meant insultingly).

⋆ MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?: Michael, though I've been making an effort to put his four friends in the spotlight more, as they were originally meant to be. XD It's tough tho, because I also never turn down an opportunity to use some of my worldbuilding characters for some memes.

⋆ RP PET PEEVES?: Responses that disregard details or actions my muses have openly made/have/done. It makes me feel like my response wasn't actually read, but more skimmed just enough for the other person to continue writing the idea they already had down. If there's going to be an established plot or action sequence, I'd at least like a heads up so it doesn't feel like my muses are suddenly being benched for a Main Character cutscene.

Alternatively, responses that know things about my muse(s) that wouldn't be common knowledge (like who Michael's real patron is, knowing about Haaruma's scars, knowing how Bashur broke his horns, etc.). I'm cool with plotting for muses to know that kind of thing going in, but when it happens without any communication between writers it feels like metagaming, and makes the thread less of a collaboration.

⋆ EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?: I've been writing/RPing in some form for about 15 years now. I started off trading giant empty notebooks with friends between classes to write painfully 2000's self-insert fics, and moved to Tumblr in 2009 when I realized there were social spaces beyond Facebook.

I've been here ever since. >:3c

⋆ FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: Of the three I most prefer fluff. I am ace, so writing smut, for me, is an exercise in frustration (I don't want to bang, but my muses do, and what my fictional children want they get even if it kills me) and takes a looooong time, so it's not usually something I share with others.

I do like angst, but only if it's wrapped up with some comfort at the end. I went through a period of my life a few years ago where all I wanted to read was angst, and it burnt me out like a dry piece of hay. I had to step away from angst fics for a few years, and while I'm better at handling that kind of content now, I still prefer it to have some kind of happy or hopeful ending.

⋆ PLOTS OR MEMES?: Both!! I love plotting out longer threads with people (whether serious, silly, or other), but I think memes are a great way to just throw characters together and see how they click!

I also like using meme interactions in the backgrounds of longer threads, to either quietly establish how muses met or just as extra information we can pepper in to past interactions.

⋆ LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: As long as the response can move the thread forward and I have something to react to, I don't care how long it is. I tend to make mine a couple paragraphs, if ever possible, just because I like to give my writing partner's as much as I can to work with, but I never want to pressure anyone to match lengths.

I've lived that pressure, hated it, and don't wish it on anyone.

⋆ TIME TO WRITE?: Usually the evenings, 5pm-midnight. Sometimes inspiration strikes during the day, but I usually don't have time on a workday to fully write out responses, so I just have to sit on them until I get home.

⋆ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: Now that I've gotten into therapy, yes. There are many ways in which I am like my muses. A lot of those ways are kind of personal, and I'm still fully detangling them all in my head, but I have definitely been using these poor NPCs to work through some things through D&D.

Tagged by: @deaddoveadventures

Tagging: @cupcakesmuses, @wanderingarcherviola

[wooahaes]

ok lets talk wips!!!

from the ask that i answered a couple days ago:

soulmate aus that i was almost done with [completed!!!! a win for me!!!!]

like a box of chocolates [both svt and skz] - working title, not set in stone. similar to the flower fics i wrote for svt + trsr back in the day where they all have some kind of trope associated with each kind of chocolate.

bodyswap aus for skz + svt. [woozi for svt, lee know for skz]. - admittedly my plans are on pause because i never came up with group names for the fake idol groups i made up for each. basically soulmate au where they end up swapping bodies until they fall in love with the added complicated layer of both being in a small idol group.

i won't run away [lee know] - fem!reader follow-up to i can't run away [vernon fic] where reader moves on.

keep it simple, stupid! [paboracha] - paboracha are all mutually pining with their respective readers and the rest of skz makes a bet on who will realize its mutual the soonest and confess (or get confessed to). minho's in love with his roommate, hyunjin's in love with his best friend, jisung is in love with his study partner for class.

childhood friends -> lovers [seungmin] - a much more recent idea for seungmin in the same vein as when i grow up where it's snapshots of the two growing up together and falling in love. very much 'one falls first, the other falls harder.'

shadow [UtS poly ending] - the poly au that has some more story to it, imo? more emotional topics and some angst. everyone is in love with everyone.

vague summer svt fic? [full group] - not to be released rn if i go for it, but i'm open to tossing ideas around for some summer-themed fics. might include skz (and if anyone's interested/i feel up to writing them, trsr) as well? it'd most likely be a july release just to give myself time to write all the fics and i'd probably give myself some sort of hard limit on how many words they can be.

ok these next few are chubby!fem!reader so if i do write them, i think they'll most likely get posted alongside something else since ik its not a widespread audience!!

untitled chubby!fem!reader fic [felix] - originally a smau i'll have to reconfigure in the same way as lhc, basically lhc but for felix. set after the best friends -> lovers jisung fic that i wanna rewrite! felix deals with the aftermath of a broken heart and ends up befriending reader who he falls for quickly bc she's cute n sunshine-y. very much lonely hearts club but i'll be removing the social media aspect from it.

chubby!fem!reader fake dating au [seokmin] - college au. reader has never dated before and asks seokmin if he'll go on a date or two with her just to help her get over the scary 'first time going on a date' feelings. he turns her down because fucking up is kind of part of the experience, but ends up agreeing to it after he lies and says he's dating reader to get someone who won't take no for an answer off his back. they agree to fake date until after reader's cousin's wedding... and u kno the drill w fake dating!! these bitches start falling for each other!!!

chubby!fem!reader sculptor/muse [woozi] - jihoon is a grad school art student who needs to diversify his portfolio a Lot (man just keeps sculpting his best friend bc he offered to model for him). soonyoung goes 'i know someone' and gets reader in to be jihoon's new model and oops they start catching feelings for each other over time. also has mentions of past mingyu/reader.

i am like 90% sure theres more because i KNOW i had fics planned around on//ew's (censored to keep out of search results, hopefully) album circle (some of which have initial drafts that i wanna rewrite) and an au built veeeeery loosely around the case 143 mv but i wanna workshop both of those more before i mention em any further.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fantasy (4) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three

A Game of Life (ao3) - Koolhotsweetloveberries

Summary: Daniel Howell, an honorable member of the King's Knighthood, does not expect much from his time at court. All changes when the court jester, Philip Lester, enters.

A Human Heart (ao3) - andthenshesaid-write (ladyknight1512)

Summary: Phil's mother has always said that there are creatures in the forest and Phil has always thought they were just stories. Then one day he runs into the forest looking for somewhere to hide and meets Dan, a man with antlers and the ability to talk to trees. Phil's world opens up but there are dangers in the forest that he can't even begin to imagine.

candles are how we keep fires as pets (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan tries to convince Phil that no, they absolutely cannot adopt the fire sprite that comes to visit their flat every day. Spoiler: He fails spectacularly.

Folktales from the sea (ao3) - glowingatmosphere

Summary: An unusual stranger saves Phil from drowning.

Luna Ursi (ao3) - Allthephils

Summary: Phil takes in a stray dog and soon realizes he’s found his other half.

Mirror Mirror (ao3) - dont-tell-them-i-write-phan (QueenJunoTheGreat)

Summary: Dan and Phil get invited to stay at a historical castle with Martyn and Cornelia. Contrariwise, Daniel and Philip aren’t invited anywhere, but not many people can say no to a highly trained thief and a dragon. But that’s totally unrelated

My Spirit Love (ao3) - MySecretsX

Summary: If you fall in love with a spirit who drains you both away, do you live together for twenty years, or stay alone each day?

Phil has lived in his house since he was born, but it was when he turned seven he met Dan for the first time. It's all childish games and the muse of a naïve brain until your fifteen-year-old son claims to have fallen in love with the boy you've never seen.

Is anything possible for love?

papercut (ao3) - schnaf

Summary: A cut. A tiny little cut, barely visible - just like a papercut. A cut - and yet, to Dan, it’s so much more. It’s the case he’s working on, the case only he seems to be taking seriously - it’s a serial killer’s signature. So when he gets the chance to track down the murderer, he doesn’t hesitate. And then, there’s Phil, Phil who’s making the chase so much more bearable, Phil who adds something completely different to his task. But things aren’t always what they seem.

siren song (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: He thinks of last night, teetering on the edge of the cliff, so happy with the idea of following Phil’s voice all the way down. That’d been a particularly close call, and he doesn’t even care. He just wants to hear the song again.

Something so magic about you (ao3) - citizen101erased

Summary: Prince Daniel and his servant Phil wake up one morning - in each other’s bodies. They’ve been cursed, and now have to go on an epic quest involving dragons and lost crowns to be restored to their own bodies. But will they make it? And will they still be the same afterwards?

strike a deal, kiss my lips (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Witches were the only magical beings capable of binding and controlling demons. It required a complicated ritual and crazy amounts of magic.

It happening on accident was practically unheard of until Phil came along and got tangled up with a snarky and dangerous demon named Dan. Suddenly bound together, Phil must grapple with control over a chaotic demon that wants to strip the skin from his bones.

And maybe strip the clothes off of his body as well.

The city is so loud (but you drown out all the noise) (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Phil's pack might have kicked him out for mating with a human, but his love for Dan was much stronger than anything he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't easy to adjust to living with Dan in his - now their - small flat in London, but Phil would do it again in a heartbeat. With Dan by his side, Phil was sure he could get used to all the weird things humans did.

The Lovers (VI) (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: Dan, guardian of the forest, feels inadequate to love and of love. His best friend Phil loves him despite that.. but doesn't know quite what to do when Dan becomes a hypocrite- playing with both their feelings

Under the Midnight Sun (ao3) - yiffandquiff

Summary: Every night in London, a midnight circus pops up under the ringmaster Phil Lester’s command. Many of the performers are runaways, looking for a new start at life. One of them is Daniel Howell, a young man who is looking for a new excitement to his life. But slowly, the secrets of the midnight circus and Phil Lester became shown and Dan realizes that he may be in a situation he’ll never be able to get out of

voice on the wind (ao3) - CapriciousCrab

Summary: A life-changing injury leaves a desperate musician looking for a miracle. He finds it in the company of a Fae muse, but at what cost?

water takes you in (ao3) - vvelna

Summary: Dan meets a mermaid.

We Can't Magic (ao3) - dont-tell-them-i-write-phan (QueenJunoTheGreat)

Summary: Choosing to stay in the Fairy World had been easy, but there were some unforeseen difficulties.

Within Spirits (ao3) - denixvames

Summary: Cursed with their fates, Dan and Phil find themselves scared and confused. They have no choice but to dig deeper into a truth they never knew. While on this journey of self discovery, the two meet other people like them who can transform too. These best friends will try to find their own history through the unique species while a great enemy vows to kill them before they can stop his plans.

Your Immortal (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: It’s genetics. Recessive. Moderately uncommon, but comparable to widow’s peaks, albinism, left-handedness. Except, more uncommon than those. Immortals, as the name suggests, can’t die.

An au fic about lifetimes and trees.

[skygraced]

@luzofstars asked : 👫LINK AND HIS #1 ONE MENACE OF A GIRLFRIEND!

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

1 ) ZELDA WAS THE FIRST PERSON TO 'KIDNAP' AEON. mind you, she was like 10 and she didn't make it very far all things considered, but the attempt was still there. it's not like you could blame her either, considering she just watched her best friend become bonded with an extremely rare loftwing and form an instant connection. childish jealousy was bound to rear its head, and of course that would lead to many adult nights finding zelda hanging off of links loftwing as it looked at her with the most unamused expression the bird could muster. this event honestly helped solidify their friendship even more, and any time aeon isn't easy to find, link will joke about zelda having stolen him away again.

2 ) DO NOT ASK EITHER OF THEM WHEN THEIR ANNIVERSARY IS. THEY WILL BOTH GIVE YOU A DIFFERENT ANSWER. the funniest thing about them getting together romantically is that they never talked about it. karane and pipit started making comments about them being together and considering neither of them were denying it, they just agreed they were dating. it wasn't until gaepora asked when did they finally make it official and they both said very different dates did they realize that not once had they actually talked about it. zelda's father proceeded to laugh at them about this for a week, commenting that 'he would expect nothing less from them'

3 ) THEY CAN AND WILL TURN EVERYTHING INTO A COMPETITION. this is one we've talked about, but they are so goddamn competitive with one another, even over the smallest things. link may win during their sparring matches, but zelda always wins their archery competition. link might be faster on the minecarts in lanayru ( although zelda will never admit it ), but zelda has a higher score on fun fun island. it doesn't matter how small or big it is, these two will find a way to make it a competition, and do have an active scoreboard going on who is currently winning the most competitions ( it's link )

4 ) ZELDA HAD SNUCK ONE OF HER LOFTWING'S FEATHER'S INTO LINK'S UNIFORM WITHOUT HIM KNOWING. in skyloftian culture, giving someone a loftwing feather is a sign of extreme trust, and is typically an extremely romantic gesture, almost mirror that of a marriage proposal. while zelda was never vocal about her reasoning behind doing it, a lot of the older members of skyloft had noticed the blue feather before link had, which lead to them giving him a lot of strange looks, especially considering zelda wasn't sporting the bright crimson feather on herself. the moment link found the feather he chased zelda down, absolutely determined to stick his corresponding feather somewhere on her. it finally ended up in her hair when he finally found her and she gave up running.

[zeldurz]

Hi there! I have been meaning to touch base with you on my fake interview show, The Asker’s Studio™️ (an unabashed rip-off of the very real show, Inside the Actor’s Studio with James Lipton ז״ל)

Welcome!

It’s well-known that I am the world’s laziest fic reader. None of my degrees prepared me for the Ao3 search engine, so all fics that make their way to my scores of open tabs come by recommendations. It’s a pretty stringent gauntlet to run, as those close to me know that certain tags such as hurt with no comfort likely will not make the cut. (Simply because I get enough on-the-job overload of this already)

The bottom line is this: your fic, Whatever it Takes landed in my must read file by dint of not one, but several hearty recommendations. I am still thanking those people, because even when I hit a dark patch and rejected fic for a while…this little gem still worked for me.

For those who are unfamiliar with the fic, here is a brief summary:

The Chimaera's medics arrive just a moment earlier, saving Thrawn from the fate Ruhk had intended for him. As the Grand Admiral fights for his life, Gilad Pellaeon comes to some important realizations and makes some important decisions.

Only time will tell if they're worth it.

Essentially, what we have is a Legends AU Prawn fic! (Pellaeon-Thrawn)

One of the main themes that runs through this fic is a significant amount of pining. It is very subtle, as is most everything about this fic, so I wanted to pick it up from here.

Generally speaking, most of my asks tend to be thought-bending deep dives into the land of introspection. Since this is your first time here, I will try to go light. 🤣

Tell us what brought you to write fic, and more specifically, how it was you chose a Prawn pairing (which is usually overshadowed by the more popular Thranto pairing) as your universe.

Writing style. I can never get enough insight into how people write their fics (my method being to know the beginning & end and fill in the rest, thank you @coruscantiscribbler) Do you use the more complex outline format, or do you just sit down and “go for it”? (the @myevilmouse method)

Many of my authors know exactly how their fics are going to end they day they begin them. Are you one of these authors, or does the mystery remain for you, too?

Finally, is fic a catharsis, something that you do to relax & for fun? I ask this, because eventually fic became a nemesis for me. An adversarial relationship that I walked away from. (until very recently, the muses began to whisper…)

I am enjoying Whatever It Takes, immensely. It is my hope that it goes on for many more chapters.

I thank you for your time, should you choose to share it.

Ahhhhh my first Asker's Studio! Now I know I've made it as a fic author lol

I started writing fics because I do a bunch of text RP and play a lot of DND/TTRPGs, and I started writing bits and pieces to get a better sense of my characters and their backstories. From there it was a small jump to “fanfiction is RP where I am all the characters at once” and eventually I realized other people might, in fact, enjoy what I have written.

For Prawn specifically, the blame for that lies almost entirely on @life-jim-but-not-as-we-know-it. About a year ago I started listening to the canon Thrawn audiobooks on the recommendation of @emp-roar, and I found myself instantly attached to Thrawn as a character (as is true for many autistic-coded Sherlock-esque characters). Since I had to wait for the audiobooks to become available, I made my way over to AO3 and searched up my new blorbo and my favourite genre of fanfiction: the Hurt/Comfort. I did not even know who Gilad Pellaeon was at the time (I was very excited to see him in Treason and Rebels – “that's the Legends Guy from Drac's fics!”) but I was very emotionally invested in the two of them.

Even after finishing the Heir Trilogy, the Ascendancy Trilogy, and the Canon Thrawn Trilogy, I still find our dear Captain Pellaeon the most fun to write as Thrawn's “Watson”, and so that's (mostly) what I do. There's something about the two of them sassing each other that I really enjoy, and I find Pellaeon's perspective a little easier to get a handle on than Eli's or Ar'alani's (as examples).

Not to mention Bilbringi provides an awful lot of inspiration, since I am definitely NOT a Major Character Death person, and if I can pretend that last part of the Last Command never happened, I most certainly will.

Ohhhh this is an interesting question. I have an extremely unique method for story planning called “I have ADHD and a job that requires an awful lot of driving” - by which I mean almost all of my fics start from a kernel of an idea that gets tumbled around in my mind for anywhere from an hour to upwards of eight hours of highway driving, and then if I'm lucky, I'll write it down before it goes away again. Usually, this idea is the middle of the fic (for Whatever it Takes, it was the concept that maybe the Empire isn't very well equipped to treat a critically injured alien, even if he is their Supreme Commander), and then when I want to write I have to sit down and figure out how to start it and end it. There are many stories gathering dust in my google drive right now as I try and figure out how to make them flow quite right.

Because of this and the aforementioned ADHD, I also tend to bounce around between different fics depending on what happened to catch the attention of the brain squirrels on any particular day – so I usually don't plan too far in advance.

Also while it isn't so much about how I plan my fics, you may be interested to know that many of them are written a paragraph or even a sentence or two at a time. My job (when I'm not driving) often has 10-15 min gaps where I'm waiting for a test to run or a system to finish pumping down or something like that, and that's often when I wind up writing down the bits and pieces I thought of on the way there. I will sometimes sit down and write a whole bunch at once – especially if I'm staying overnight somewhere for work and so don't have my tablet or my gaming PC – but if I have big chunks of time I'm usually doing something other than writing.

So far, yes! If you had told high school me that I had written 69458 words (according to AO3, so I'd bet it's closer to 100000 if you count my google drive) of stories this year of my own volition, I would have told you that was insane and that I hated writing, but I do actually really enjoy it. I think it helps that there's less pressure to have “central themes” and “metaphors” and all that other stuff that is very important to English teachers, and that I'm writing solely for myself. If other people enjoy my unedited blorbo thoughts, then I'm happy to share them, but I don't want it to become a “I have to do xyz” sort of thing. (this is also why I am sure there are many typos/missing words in my fics, bc rereading and editing is Not Fun lol)

Thank you for asking! I always appreciate your comments and thoughts on both my work and others :D