#i really like the 'too clever by half' trope sorry

[shift-shaping]

despite the rain

solas and lady volant attend an extravagant party put on by the duke of wycome.

rating: t

pairing: solavellan

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first fic in this series

By the time Lady Volant and Solas arrived, the party at Castle Magnolia was well underway.

They had put off their appearance as long as they could, but each successive messenger sent to retrieve them from the apartment was more insistent than the last. They'd given excuses --needed to rest, to mend a sleeve, to answer a letter-- in the vain hope that they might wait out the party itself, or be forgotten once the drink was truly flowing. Rain, steady and cold, bought them more time still, but eventually there would be no more delaying.

Lady Guinevere Volant was dressed fashionably, yet modestly, in a long sleek dress with delicate floral details. Solas himself was once again in servant's clothes, albeit a somewhat more fitted set meant to compliment Lady Volant's. He was essentially her accessory, which suited his actual role of protecting her and watching their surroundings.

They blended in well at the party, though more so in terms of fashion than sobriety. Despite the eerie silence of their earlier tour through the city, this event was reasonably well attended. The rain had driven it indoors, with some brave, drunken souls spilling out into the darkness of the courtyard. Lady Volant easily sidestepped a stumbling couple and approached the guards at the door. At her introduction, they allowed her inside.

The ceilings of the main hall soared into vaults painted with elaborate scenes of the sea, a heavily dramatized celebration of the city's heritage. Paintings of well-dressed men and women lined the walls, some awkwardly crooked. Enormous gold-plated birds of prey stood before towering columns in a manner typical of Free Marcher excess. These birds looked unique though, with tall, thick bills and broad bodies --sea eagles? Above and around them were balconies dotted with colorfully-dressed party-goers, and to either side were wide hallways leading to other wings of the manor. Tall round tables were scattered about, most covered in discarded drinks and dirty plates. A few bards played clumsily-overlapping tunes, and a handful of half-nude men and women danced before leering eyes. He watched one dancer elegantly avoid a large puddle of what appeared to be wine on the floor, as if she'd gotten used to dancing around it.

Solas had seen far more opulent great halls, but for this age it was impressive enough. What alarmed him, however, was the suspicious lack of servants. The crooked paintings, the puddles on the floor, the unbussed tables --it was strange for such things to go unnoticed for so long at an event like this.

"Lady Ambassador!" Solas and Lady Volant turned to see a familiar bearded face smiling brightly at them. Duke Antoine seemed more at ease now, but maybe that was the result of the nearly-empty wine glass in his hand. With a prickle of apprehension Solas noticed the same elven slave from earlier lurking just over the Duke's shoulder. Solas felt less of a pull from the slave's magic on the Veil, but there was still an icy focus in his eyes.

That the slave was serving his master in this manner was not surprising in the least; Solas was extremely and personally familiar with the use of slaves to do dangerous magical bidding. What was surprising was the slave's dedication. He was obviously a talented mage, and could have defected to the Inquisition or even the nearby alienage with little effort. Solas sensed no charm present to track him, no curse to seal him to the Duke. Unless he was missing something, that left only mundane leverage to keep the slave in his place: threats to family, to friends, to a home somewhere.

If it was possible to untangle the slave from his master's web, the effort would be worth it to acquire a gifted agent. But to do that, Solas would need to find out what that web consisted of, and he saw no clear path towards that goal. His purpose was to investigate the Duke and protect Lady Volant, not necessarily to recruit.

The Duke and Lady Volant exchanged pleasantries, and the Duke offered her a glass of wine. She accepted, and the Duke looked around for a server.

He made eye contact with a young elven woman in the corner of the room. She held a bottle of wine and a few empty glasses on a round silver platter. As far as Solas could tell, she was the only server near them. She nodded to the Duke, and as she approached the bottle wavered on the platter. She reached up and steadied it, grasping it by the neck, and nearly knocked one of the glasses off in the process. Lady Volant continued her conversation with the Duke as the server handed her one of the glasses --smudged around the base-- and very slowly attempted to pour the wine into the glass.

"No more than half," Lady Volant said gently. "Too much and I'll get a terrible rash." The server nodded. The wine splashed into the glass instead of pouring smoothly, and some landed on the server's ill-fitted sleeve. She had poured maybe a third of a glass before stopping and looking at Lady Volant, who thanked her.

Relieved, the server put the bottle unsteadily back on to the platter and turned to leave. Typically, an event like this would dress servers in neatly fitted dress meant to accentuate the wealth and grandeur of the host. The uniform this woman wore scarcely looked like it belonged to her at all, with sleeves so long they had to be rolled, a baggy undershirt that barely fit under the jacket, and trousers a few inches too short.

The Duke did not seem to care, having instead launched into a lecture about the wine they were drinking, but the slave watched the server closely. She did not return to her post, and disappeared down one of the large hallways leading to another wing of the manor.

They began a tour, the ambassador once again treated as an honored guest. Unlike that morning, the Duke took the time to introduce her to other members of the upper class. Given the silence of the noble estates earlier, it was unsurprising that many of these guests were visitors from elsewhere.

Lady Volant had been clever in telling the server she wouldn't be drinking much. Avoiding any of the food or beverages at the party was wise considering there were Venatori present.

"Messere," a small voice said. Solas took his eyes from the ambassador's conversation to see a short, freckled elf with delicately braided orange hair. She bowed slightly, and the platter in her hand stayed steady. Upon it were hors d'oeuvres wrapped in napkins. "You are a guest this evening as well. Is there anything we can get for you?"

"No, thank you," he replied. Though she was short, even for an elf in this age, her clothing was a much better fit for her than the previous server he'd seen.

"Of course," she said, but she ignored his reply and handed him a shrimp tartlet. He raised an eyebrow. She nodded to him, then retreated without fully leaving the room.

Solas observed the tartlet closely, uncertain of what to do with it, before he noticed tiny scribbles on the napkin. As discreetly as possible, he unfolded the paper and read the message.

My name is Emilie. I have lived and worked here for years. I do not know who any of these servants are. Please help.

Solas quickly folded the napkin and put it into the pocket of his trousers. He looked to where the server had gone, worried she might have left the room in hopes he would follow. But then he saw her just outside the main party space, near an unstaffed bar in a state of disarray. It had a direct line of sight to where they were standing.

"Ambassador," he said softly, speaking to Lady Volant just over her shoulder. "I am going to get myself a drink." She looked up at him, and he glanced towards the bar. "Would you like anything else?"

She followed his gaze to the bar and shook her head. "No, I'm quite alright, thank you. But you should see to your own needs."

"Of course." He left her with the Duke, the slave, and several guests. The bar was close enough that he could still intervene if something went awry.

Emilie stood up straighter as he approached and put her tray of tartlets on the bar. "Messere."

He took the note from his pocket and swiftly burned it. Her eyes widened at his casual magic use, but she didn't comment on it. 

"Who are the other servants, if not the Duke's own?" He said quietly. He still held the tartlet.

"I don't know. I was only gone for a week to visit a friend in Bastion. When I came back, everyone was --replaced." She looked around for a moment before going on. "I don't know what to do. You are Inquisition, though, yes? You help people? Mages and-- and elves, right?"

It was somewhat heartening to know that 'helping people' was the Inquisition's reputation to this person, especially given that 'helping mages and elves' was primarily due to Enaste's decision-making. But it also reminded him of the target on their back.

"You should go, da'len," he urged. "If the other servants have been replaced, you are likely not supposed to be here." He looked towards the entrance hall. "Go to the alienage and hide. If anyone bothers you, tell them you were sent by Enaste Lavellan." He paused, then went on. "And if you see Enaste Lavellan, tell her Solas sent you."

"Enaste Lavellan, that's... The Inquisitor herself?" She asked, and Solas nodded. She opened her mouth, then shook her head. "But I don't know the alienage, I haven't even been there in years. I live here, in the servant's quarters. And... and what if the other servants are hurt? What if something happened to them?"

Solas looked at Emilie seriously. "What would you do to save them?"

"I..." She hesitated, then looked at him with a stubborn determination. "I know the castle. If they're still here, somewhere, I could help you find them."

"If the servants here have been infiltrated as thoroughly as I suspect, they will know the castle too. Unless you have a very good idea of where they are, you are better off keeping yourself alive by fleeing to safety."

"But they're... Some of them are my family. I know them, I..."

"And if you are hurt or killed trying to rescue them, where will that leave you?"

She looked down, visibly frustrated. He waited, giving her space to think. Then her shoulders sagged, and she nodded. "Okay. You're right."

He was relieved. As long as she got out of the estate, she should be safe and able to give them more information about the infiltration later.

She looked at his hand, then at the tray of tartlets. He went to put the tartlet down, and she cocked her head. "You don't like shrimp?"

"Abelas, please take no offense. I am simply uncertain of the precise... Ingredients."

"Oh," Emilie frowned, then took one of the tartlets and popped it in her mouth. Solas felt a little silly watching her eat it. She shrugged as she swallowed. "See? No poison."

"Fair enough, but you'll forgive my caution."

She glanced at the tray. "I do. Well," she looked past him, towards the entrance hall. "I'll take your advice. Enaste Lavellan?" She repeated.

"Lavellan," he corrected her pronunciation slightly, the Inquisitor's surname rolling off his tongue.

"Understood." She bowed quickly. "And thank you. Try to stay safe."

"We will."

…

The rain outside grew louder and the wind picked up as the party wound down to a more intimate size. The servers, few and far between, had eventually bussed some of the tables, but they were so far behind that they had no hope of catching up. At least the fireplaces were lit.

Lady Volant joined the Duke and a handful of other guests by one such fireplace, sharing hard leather couches. Solas stood off to the side, watching the ambassador and keeping an eye on the slave standing behind the Duke.

The slave's posture suddenly straightened, and the young man turned towards the entrance hall. Solas followed his gaze to see a tall, well-dressed human man flanked by several people --either servants or unarmed guards-- approaching them. The only one of the manor's servers Solas could see stiffened at the sight of the new guest.

The Duke turned in his seat and smiled, a bit too wide. "Magister Malchus! How wonderful that you've made it despite the rain! Come, have a seat."

The advisor was completely dry despite said rain, likely the result of a spell. "I apologize for my lateness, your Grace. I do appreciate the invitation." He spoke with a heavier accent than most of the Tevinters Solas had met.

"Lady Ambassador, this is Magister Lanius Malchus, of the Circle of Magi at Marnas Pell," the Duke announced as the Magister joined them by the fire. "Magister, this is Lady Guinevere Volant, the Inquisition ambassador to Wycome."

Lady Volant smiled warmly at the Magister. "What an honor to meet one of Tevinter's highest officials."

Malchus returned her smile. "I am honored to meet a woman as beautiful as yourself. And well-read: not many southerners understand Tevinter's titles."

Solas eyed the Magister's other servants. They were humans, as far as he could tell, broader and more built than the elves. He saw no sign of shackles. None of them had weapons nor were any actively using a spell.

As they talked, mostly trading pleasantries, the slave who had been babysitting the Duke retreated from his post. He still lingered close by, lurking in the shadows beside a cluttered standing table. From his vantage, he should have a clear view of the conversation. Seizing his opportunity, Solas crossed the room to join the slave. 

The young man regarded him coldly. At first neither said anything, their ears trained to the cautious political dance going on by the fire. Then, to Solas's surprise, the slave broke the silence.

"You are a powerful mage," he observed quietly, his accent thick around the words.

"As are you," Solas replied.

One of the servers approached them, and Solas tensed. She offered them both drinks, already filled with dark red wine. "Drinks, messeres?" She asked softly.

The slave looked at him. He still had that ridiculous wig, but it was better kept and styled now. The server, not waiting for an answer, put both glasses on the table. One was clearly closer to Solas, the other to the slave. Then the server left them alone.

Neither moved. "You do not have to do this," Solas hissed.

"You know nothing of me."

"I do." He stared hard at the slave, eyes narrowed. "I know you have carried the weight of shackles like a noose around your neck. I know your blood runs hot from how often worse men than yourself have spilt it." The slave finally looked at him, his expression hard and cold. "I know what it is like to want what you believe impossible to have."

"You will win no allies here, Inquisition," the slave responded sharply. "You are surrounded." His eyes gleamed in the dark. "You will die here, in your old world, and we will bring the dawn anew."

Solas snorted, and the slave flinched in surprise. "You honestly believe that? Is that what your master told you?" The slave looked away. "That your Elder One will break your chains?"

"My chains are broken," he snarled. "I am no slave, stultissime."

Though that surprised him, Solas just shook his head. "The Magister owes you nothing. He will use you again so long as you remain in his grip."

"You have no idea what he owes me." He reached for the glass of wine beside him, but Solas was quicker, and took the glass meant for the younger elf. He narrowed his eyes, but slowly took the glass meant for Solas.

The glass was no cleaner than any of the others Solas had seen that evening. The wine was impenetrably dark. He held it up to toast. "Sanitas, lethallin."

The glasses clinked together. Solas took a drink, confident that by switching the glasses, he'd thwarted the server's plot.

Then he saw the same server staring at him from over the younger elf's shoulder, eyes wide, one hand raised, and realized he made a terrible mistake. The wine tasted like ashes in his throat, and as soon as it settled in his stomach a horrid burn arced through his blood.

His vision blurred, like heat rising from stone, and he felt suddenly like his bones weren't connected to each other. There was a commotion as the fire overtook his mind, boiling his thoughts until he was conscious of little else but pure pain.

As his knees gave out underneath him, Solas watched the man he thought was a slave sip from the glass meant for him. His lips tilting into a smirk was the last thing Solas saw before everything went white, then black.

translation notes: stultissime - fool sanitas - health (used as a toast)

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[rueitae]

Season 1, Episode 6, The opera in the outback caper

I find Player’s desire to do accents adorable and hilarious at the same time. A fun tidbit for his personality. ‘Cause he’s absolutely willing to do it again later. Bonus points that Carmen teases him for it. (At least I choose to interpret that as teasing)

Player: wow good sign or bad omen? (In an episode in which Carmen gets brainwashed)

Me: stares at camera

Seriously though, the foreshadowing of the dark red arc throughout the series is so well done. It’s so brazen. So much so you don’t see it coming. Crackle’s civilian-ization is, I believe, the first introduction of brainwashing tech. Upon rewatch it's so clear what they’ve done. I bet the writers were cackling to themselves the entire time for this one.

I, for one, am so happy they made Carmen the opera a thing for an episode. Thank you CS for not wasting this niche opportunity. And all the zingers that come with it.

Love how they suspended audience (and Carmen) disbelief for a while by not having Le Chevre show up right away, so Carmen thinks that Gray is running this job. Until she really gets a solid look at him in a different light. I just appreciate how the scene went down. Clever and fun writing to introduce us to the issue.

I also like that Player isn’t taking any crap. He never does. That’s what I like about his character. He’s the only one who can really tell Carmen “how about not” and she’ll think about it. (And 90% of the time she skips off anyway). Though the few times in the series she does take his advice on an emotional decision are very poignant and some of my favorites.

This fight scene above the opera??? The elegance, the silence so we focus on the opera music (as Bellum wants) the timing of the machine hitting the rafters. VERY nice.

VILE NOTE

Player stop hunching over in excitement, your back is gonna hurt by the time you’re 30.

I dunno I like that after all the times they say “VILE”, Player decides to not use the acronym to seemingly try and bring home a point to Carmen to be careful, they could be up to anything.

The glider is really silent wow. Gray doesn’t hear her until she lands. Well done Ivy.

Ultimately she’s heartbroken he doesn’t remember her, but also he’s not trying to kill her so there’s that. In this first season in these moments you can tell she misses the innocent life she had. And she supposedly hasn’t been civhting VILE for long, so that’s a nice character piece there that she’s still mourning a more innocent time that she can never go back to. She knows she can’t and won’t.

8pm. I find it so hilarious for that need to specify because I personally would be like “8…am?”

Me: googles all the deadly creatures and weather in Australia

Me, hides Google doc: it’s…totally not for fic research.

LOL I love the utterly confused civilians during dramatic moments. Sorry Miro

Lab coats! Everyone in a lab coat!!! Thank you CS.

OPERA IS FAR TOO DISTRACTING. Love her character. The backstory she gives to Zack and Ivy and their FACES is delightful

Ivy and Zack are not trained thieves. That’s what makes them so fun to watch while they’re trying to hold her back. Carmen is creative too, but she has fighting experience to fall back on. The sibs don’t.

I wonder if Carmen realizes what’s happening in the split second before she goes under.

Player has the BEST “sus” face. And also rewatching I realize that the writers did give Player a chance to snap Carmen out of it. It doesn’t work. And it wouldn’t have worked for dark red arc.

Carmen really stands there saying “launch the boomerang” for almost a minute and a half lol.

The DINGO alert.

There’s something in me that appreciates that especially in these early episodes it’s always the sibs vs El Topo and Le Chevre. They get to know each other. That’s why the diversion works.

Ivy almost going up with the rocket is a TOP angst trope for me. I still get so excited over it. Not even kidding this is the millionth time I’ve watched the episode and I’m salivating over the near miss.

MIRO he just sits in the car but I’m glad we see his relief.

Okay after the first episode (well second technically) where he’s worried this is the first big protective!Player moment. He really drills into Carmen all the reasons she shouldn’t meet up with Gray again. Like. Gets really serious. These are my FAVORITE moments. And this one in particular I like because Carmen takes his advice here, she changes her mind because of what he says but for an entirely different reason. For Gray’s protection.

Carmen’s a good person. VILE totally miscalculated everything about her.

I love Maelstrom’s office it’s so EXTRA with the fish tank lol. Very clever working the darkness of what Maelstrom is asking into a kids show, with the replacement of “hat” for “head”. Hello Paper Star see you next week.

[justmybookthots]

The Cruel Prince

4.5/5 stars

This book ruined me for fae books and I'm not even sorry. It also doesn't help that this was my first literary introduction to fae (Midsummer Night's Dream doesn't count). The prose is so lyrical and beautiful and had me feeling as if I were utterly lost in Elfhame / an otherworldly, fae-filled realm. (Also funnily enough, I read this series while I was down with COVID, so maybe the delirium added to the otherworldliness of it.)

What I Ioved about fae was that they couldn't lie. And Cruel Prince really does work that in parts - seeing Cardan use wit and cleverness and lies by omission to sidestep that "weakness" in him. Even until now I haven't quite seen a book execute that to the degree Cardan displayed. Books like ACoTaR just eliminate the inability to lie in their fae, which is a huge step down, in my opinion.

I also adored Jude, which is very rare for me because most heroines in fiction annoy me or they're either too bland for me to care. But Jude - JUDE - she was hardworking, ambitious and determined without being a special, overly snarky Mary Sue about it. She actually showed her smarts, imo best demonstrated when she outwitted Balekin (that exchange with the poison made me SCREAM).

Speaking of poison - she poisoned herself everyday, trying to build an immunity to poison. It was painful, and I cringed for her, but she did it. And throughout it all, she never had any special ability until the third book, which barely showcased said ability. Jude got through the trials and tribulations by being clever and cunning and human. She wasn't half-fae; she wasn't given special gifts in combat like Feyre - she was just herself in a world of immortals, and she worked her ass off to compensate for it.

But what makes the book for me isn't really Jude, though she's a big part of it. It's Cardan - whom I fell so deeply for; cruel, pathetic drunkard Cardan.

Was he a little too weak for my tastes? Yes. Was he a little too drunk, to the point that I found it repulsive at times? Yes. Was he kind of sucky in bed? Yes, though that's more because it's YA and they weren't going into detail about the spice.

And yet the way he spoke - how he could wax poetic and make it sound like a dagger or a kiss - OH MY GOSH. I also just love a boy who was able to be socially adept when he needed to, and manipulate people to his advantage. I loved how he had to teach Jude at the end of the first book to win allies over, and how he once (very exasperatedly, might I add) told her that murder (brute force / violence) wasn't the answer to everything.

I loved how cruel he was at the start and how he slowly became kinder, more trusting, more willing to love himself and accept that he loved Jude. And if there is one trope I hate in books, it's trauma-bonding, but there wasn't that. Jude's past was nowhere as wretched as his, and they never once felt like (... for lack of a better term) edge-lords pretending they were more special than the world because of their childhood histories. Cardan slowly came into his own without needing Jude to "fix" him.

I don't often feel my heart beat for male leads in books anymore, not for a long while. I've become very jaded, or something. I don't know. But I did for Cardan.

Shut up 😭😭😭😭

That's not to say this series is perfect. I have my gripes with it. The last book was meh and too short and could have done with more Cardan instead of him as a snake. I think there was a lot of potential wasted with that book. The first and the second are much, much better, though I still reread the third the most because they were far more certain in their love then. Also I do wish Jude was a little weaker just to seem more human, and Cardan a bit stronger.

I'm still mad at this series because it put me in book slump for a good bit. I couldn't get over it. It wasn't until some time later that I finally managed to start reading and enjoying books again. Even until today, I haven't read any books that portray fae as wonderfully as Holly Black did, and that is a problem because fae are everywhere, which makes my Cruel Prince hangover even worse.

Also, Holly Black can write her fucking ass off. She's one of the prettiest writers I've read. If there is one thing I hate, it's modern slang in a fantasy setting (to be honest, I just... despise modern slang in any setting... lol), but she nailed the prose for this book. It was so pretty and enchanting without it being too purple.

I need to get to Stolen Heir and I don't know why I haven't. I thought Oak was really cute in the Cruel Prince series, though I heard he becomes a real piece of work in the new book and I am very, very scared.

- Read in April 2023

[achillieus]

we’re fools (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, a lot of sexual references, but also a lot of fluff, bucky and reader are in love, also bucky gets cheesy and he hates it

(other parts)  (masterlist)

part 3/3:

Bucky thinks he fell in love on a Tuesday.

“This year, I’m gonna ask Peggy Carter out.” It’s the first day of their third semester and Steve is putting his black baseball cap in his perfect hair, checking his reflection on his phone screen. One of the freshman girls winks at him and he shyly half smiles.

Usually, Bucky would tease him about it, but now he’s attention is wholly on something else. Someone else.

A girl at the other end of the hall, holding a paper juice box, wearing a gaudy denim dress that stops right before her knees.

He’s certain he hasn’t seen her before and judging by the adrift look on her face he deduces she’s in her first year. Is she pretty? He can’t decide. She’s definitely something. And if he stares at her a bit longer than socially acceptable, well let’s say, it’s completely unintended.

“Buck, did you hear what I said?” Steve says at one point and Bucky isn’t sure for how long he has been lost in her figure.

“Yeah sure.” The girl starts walking at their direction -it must be your lucky day, Bucky-, clutching the golden heart jewel around her neck. She’s looking at the doors, she’s looking at the big campus map they have on the wall. She’s looking everywhere but at him and it’s almost offensive considering the amount of time he spent looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” And then she’s there standing a few steps behind Steve. Almost hidden behind his colossal demeanor. “I can’t seem to find the Admission Office.”

A small nervous laugh escapes her lips and Bucky watches the little wrinkles around her eyes, the subtle blush on her cheeks. She doesn’t look pretty. No. She looks consuming.

“Admission office is on the left, doll”. He replies a little too fast. He had to beat Steve. He had to talk to her.

She smiles at him and somehow, along that smile, Bucky thinks he fell in love. With you.

-

(bucky barnes has been in love with you for 563 days)

-

“Did you just kiss me?”

His voice is barely a whisper and his vision is blurry and it’s weird because suddenly he realizes how scared he’s of you. Of the power you have on him. An alarming craving. Every addiction he can’t control combined. Bucky isn’t afraid of many things, not exactly. But he’s afraid that you’ll take his heart and break it, if you want to. And he’s more afraid that he’ll just allow you to. He wonders, for the split of a second, if you have any idea how everything changed when your lips met his. How something inside of him shifted.

“I’m sorry,” You finally answer and he needs a moment to compose himself, “I’m so sorry I just thought-”

“Shut up, I’d died if you hadn’t kissed me.”

“What?”

It’s innocent and terribly oblivious, the way you ask him that and he half smiles, almost touches your palm before his mind stops racing. Ignores the alcohol in his body. Reminds him that he’s Bucky Barnes, that he’s clever and brilliant and a little bit narcissistic and that he doesn’t do love.  Not anymore. And that people adore him for that. And that he needs to uphold it. At least try to.

“I’m not repeating that soppy thing I said,” He drawls and smirks, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light of the hall. He has his mask back on. He’s playing his part again. And then he takes a quick step, opens his door and turns around, swift motions and hard grips and suddenly your spine hits the walls of his room. “But you can repeat that sexy thing you did with your tongue.”

Bucky isn’t stupid. He knows he’d perish and wither in a blast if you asked him to, yet he would never admit that. At least not so fast. And specially not to you. He has built his persona so carefully, wore it like an armor, it has become a second skin.

His chapped lips scratch soft against your neck, his hands play with the end of your dress and you observe the way his orbs are colored darker now. He knows what he’s doing. It’s a show he’s practiced. His touch is sharp, like a razor, cuts through your epidermis, comes close to your veins and the muscles of your heart.

And you’re ready to close your eyes, savor every minute of it, offer yourself like an altar and let him wipe the rationality out of you, but the moment his fingers find the wet silk between your legs there’s pain and your throat dries out instantly.

“Bucky, wait.”

“What’s wrong doll?”

“Can we stop?”

There’s the cruel split of a moment where the anxiety inside of you flares up dangerously and you fill like on the edge of a cliff, like falling and it’s horrible. And then you see his body relax, breathing a sigh of relief and laughing.

“Thank God you asked.”

“Barnes,” you hit him with your elbow, “You’re doing wonders for my self esteem right now!”

“You’re an idiot,” he replies with a grimace, “It’s just that I’m drunk and I prefer if I’m not drunk when we have sex. I want to remember the whole thing.”

A strange sensation tingles somewhere between your ribs and your stomach, something so pure and new, and it raises goosebumps all over you. And you smile at him.

And somehow along that smile, Bucky’s mask starts to fall.

/

Bucky Barnes, you learnt within your first month in college, is a year older than you, a proud boy that always asks the right questions and always gives the right answers, with charms and wits of a living god.

Bucky Barnes, you learnt the night you kissed him in the narrow aisle, may have a sharp tongue but he also has the sweetest lips, soft and liqueur like.

Bucky Barnes, you learn some days later, doesn’t want many people to know about you two, and sits three tables away during lunch.

/

“Are you embarrassed of me?”

Your mind is racing with dozens of hurtful possibilities, some more or less, and Bucky looks at you, eyes widen and surprised.

“Why would I be embarrassed of you?”

“I don’t know,” you take the tea cup in your hands, drink and stay silent for a while, observe the way he’s fidgeting with his fingers, “Why else would you avoid me whenever there’s someone else but Sam around?”

It takes some time before he walks closer, sits next to you by his bedframe and touches your hand, your skin freezing under his.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

Your heart almost stops, because Bucky is never scared, and his answer feels strangely heavy and bitter from his lips when he says, “I just don’t want anyone to ruin this.”

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even smirk like he usually does, just stares at you with narrow eyes and a quick breath.

“Bucky, I hate it to break it to you,” you say, a glint of amusement in your voice, “But I don’t think others care that much about us.”

You cup his face in your hands, guide him backwards, his back hitting the pillow and it’s the first time he has no choice but to comply.

“And even if they do,” you breath in, wet your lips and tease the corner of his mouth with your finger, “It’s not our problem.”

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, shifts even closer to you, his heart not missing a beat. And when you kiss him, he smiles. And somehow along that smile, Bucky becomes more of himself.

/

It goes like this;

People read it in his eyes. How his gaze never leaves you even while you’re writing a test and he needs to concentrate, how he looks mesmerized when you braid your hair while scanning the textbook in front of you. How he could find you even in the middle of the biggest crowd.

People see it in your reactions. How your fingers always wrap around his wrist, almost instinctively, before he leaves, and you kiss him one time on the lips, and then one more on the cheek. How your voice changes as soon as he enters the room. How you’d know he’s here even without looking.

You really have to try to be oblivious to love.

/

(text messages between classes)

(10:26 AM) bucky: hey does taylor swift have to be playing in the background when we have sex

(10:27 AM) you: it’s not even noon bucky what the hell

(10:27 AM) bucky: i went through your spotify and APPARENTLY you have a  “🍆🍆🍆” playlist

(10:27 AM) bucky: and it’s just taylor swift and hozier???

(10:27 AM) bucky: who the hell wants to have sex with a taylor swift song playing

(10:28 AM) you: I’m gonna kill you

(10:28 AM) bucky: nah <3

/

It’s surprisingly easy, dating Bucky Barnes, and by the end of the first month, you feel at home, at ease.  He talks a lot, way more than you expected him to, he shares his favorites, the way he always underlines quotes he likes in the books he’s reading or how he never eats anything that has soy in it. He shows you everything about him, not just who he is, but who he’s ever been. And it’s beautiful.

And you observe how he breathes easier now, smiles more. He doesn’t keep his guard up, doesn’t flinch when nobody’s looking at him.

/

He thinks it’s weird.

He thinks it’s weird, because kissing has always been an act of foreplay to him and he never paid much attention, but now, with you, he could spend his whole life kissing you.

But when you start pulling at the buttons of his black expensive shirt, well, it’s not like he’s complaining. He presses his body against yours, his hands almost shaking, his fingers burying in your hair, slowly tugging.

“Bucky,” You breath in his neck, “I may be bad at this.”

“What?” He whispers as he leaves wet trails all the way to your chest.

“I haven’t done this before, so I may be bad at it.”

He stares right at your lips, notices your sweet cherry scent mixing with the sharp notes of his aftershave, touches the spot under your eyes and smiles.

“Guess we’ll have to do it over and over again then.” He’s half laughing, half kissing your shoulder and you can feel your cheeks flush and your entire being tighten.

And then his cold fingertips draw circles on your inner thighs and you close your eyes, and Bucky forgets how to breath.

/

“I probably sound like a fool but, I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t plan on saying it that early, but he’s here, warm and glistening and in your arms and you can’t go another minute without hearing the words out loud.

“And I probably sound competitive but, I’ve been in love with you since God knows when.”

/

(AH IT’S FINISHED BUT YAY THEY’RE IN LOVE)

tagging: @tonystankschild @osterfieldshollandgirl​ @roguesthetic @buckyjms​ @ohladymacbeth​

[sitp-recs]

What fic d’you think has the best/cleverest plot, you’ve read? Mainly looking for recs, but also pretty curious; you seem to have a pretty wide range of tastes (side note: how do you find so many amazing fics to read? Like. Jealous. And where do you find the time? Between work and classes and family I’d never be able to do this. Impressive… sorry, off topic.)

What an interesting ask, thank you! To answer the second part - I’ve been reading fic for many years now, and when I created the blog I had nothing but a dull internship and a final paper to worry about, so I started reccing the fics I already loved and time wasn’t really an issue! But I’ve been struggling a lot lately, especially after I finished my Masters and changed jobs. Now with a puppy I barely stay awake at night, let alone enjoy quality reading time 💀 I haven’t read a new fic in ages, reclists are the only thing keeping this blog alive because I don’t need to think too hard lol

And yes, my fic tastes are pretty vast! I enjoy a bunch of different things depending on my mood, and I have a few go-to tropes & authors that usually work for me if I’m not sure about what to read next. You asked for clever plots, these are my personal favorites! I’m curious to hear everyone else’s thoughts, so feel free to add to this post :)

And Save Me From Bloody Men by @blamebrampton (2010, T, 10k)

Draco Malfoy once watched others fighting to stop the world falling apart. This time, he's not just watching.

The Eighth Tale by @letteredlettered (2012, E, 12k)

Draco Malfoy tries to fix the past, but instead mucks it up some more. For Harry, it all becomes quite clear.

Eternally Consistent by kitsunealyc (2016, E, 44k)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter assumed they would never be anything but civil enemies, until Potter lands on Malfoy's doorstep, bleeding, covered in curses, and acting very strangely indeed.

Turn from Stone by @harryromper (2019, M, 45k)

Harry knows there’s nothing he can do to stop Hermione (war hero, historian, author of the reissued “Hogwarts: A History”) once she sets her mind to something.

Transfigurations by Resonant (2003, E, 71k)

Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

Timecode by Rasborealis (2019, M, 73k)

Harry Potter has been dead for two years, and Draco would laugh in the face of anyone claiming differently. Well, anyone but Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by waspabi (2016, T, 93k)

'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.

At Your Service by Faith Wood (2012, E, 95k)

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There's only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (2020, E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

Eclipse by Mijan (2003, T, 287k)

Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time.

Big shoutout to these two AUs for adapting the original material into the HP universe, so clever!

Burn the Curtains and the Wine by @nerdherderette (2019, E, 24k) - Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU

There are two versions of Harry Potter: the wizard who is the Ministry of Magic's most dangerous and successful assassin, and the husband who leads a staid life of domesticity with a reformed Death Eater. And never the twain shall meet.

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (2020, E, 81k) - Bling Ring AU

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

[oshawottmain]

Any romance tropes you enjoy? I reblogged some of your posts and would love (😉) to hear more.

@terrific-togekiss I am so so so sorry it took me so long to answer. College has been kicking my ass this past month and I haven't even had time to open Tumblr. But now I've finally gotten a break from the ass-kicking and as soon as a saw your ask I immediately wanted to answer it.

So when it comes to romance tropes I have many favorites so I'll just list off a few I tend to look for most:

"Dorks in Love" - Normally found in Friends to Lovers and especially Childhood Friends to Lovers, I just love it when two cuties can't help but be awkward around each other. The simple thought of holding hands makes them blush and makes me squeal

"Banter" - Specifically between Rivals to Lovers. I love watching them exchange petty yet clever insults with flirty subtext not even they notice

"Bad Girl/Good Boy" - I enjoy Bad Boy/Good Girl ships as much as the next guy, but to me it's even better when the genders are reversed. Probably because it's just so uncommon and I like seeing the change. It's even better when it's an Enemies to Lovers situation, like the villainess is super sexy, intense and deadly and the hero comes to the begrudging realization that's just his type *chefs kiss*

"Battle Couple" - Is there anything better than having someone who supports you even in the most dire situations? Someone who always has your back no matter what is thrown your way? Someone you can rely on when you're on your last legs? Yes. All that, plus both are carrying weapons!

"Sharing a Braincell" - Do I really need to say more? Sure they might be smart and competent when separate but as soon as they're in the same room common sense is thrown out the window and they become two dumbasses who love each other

"Height Difference" - I don't know why but there's something about one half of the relationship having to look up at their SO that gets me. If it is 5 inches or more then it'll immediately have my attention

Thanks so much for asking, I really enjoyed getting to explain all this. Maybe you could list some of yours too? I'd love to hear about your own.

[mimisempai]

The evidences of our love are everywhere

Summary:

Thor is worried about his little brother's happiness and spies on Loki and Mobius in a more or less subtle way.

Tumblr request : Thor spying on Loki and Mobius.

As usual I got carried away and added most of my favorite tropes :p

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33254275

1643 words - Rating G

"I know it, that you are watching us Thor."

Thor wanted to protest at first, but even though he hadn't known Mobius long, he knew the man was perceptive and there was no point in trying to lie to him.

He sighed, "I admit it."

"I suspect you have no malicious intent," Mobius said kindly, "but I would like to know why."

Thor thought about what he would say in response.

He could see that his little brother was happy. That he had changed, or rather that he had become the best version of himself.

And this was partly thanks to Mobius, but he needed to see it with his own eyes. In their daily lives. So he had been watching for every moment he could spy on them during their stay in Asgard.

**********

One evening, he had overheard a scene he never thought he would see.

Mobius with a brush in his hand was sitting behind Loki and asked him softly, "Should I start brushing your hair?"

Loki nodded and closed his eyes, as if he already knew he was going to like it. Like it had become something familiar.

Mobius started at the bottom, taking care not to pull, then slowly worked his way up. After a while, Mobius' fingers replaced the brush and it was clear that Loki was enjoying it. He did not startle or protest. He turned his back to someone and let them touch him. This showed how much he trusted Mobius.

Not so long ago, such contact would have been unimaginable. If it was anyone else but Mobius, Thor thought, Loki would never have allowed it.

Thor could hardly tear himself away from the scene since he was so fascinated.

Mobius stopped and his hands slid over Loki's shoulders and Loki held his head back with a gentle smile on his face. Mobius leaned over and kissed him gently.

Thor thought it was time for him to retire.

**********

" Tell me candidly, is there anything in me, except my ugliness, which displeases you? Do you object to my birth, my temper, my manners?”

��No, truly,” replied the princess; “I like everything in you, except”—and she hesitated courteously—”except your appearance.”

Thor had just entered the living room of Loki and Mobius' suite and stopped in front of the incredible scene he had before his eyes.

Loki was lying on the couch, his head on Mobius' lap, Mobius had one hand in his hair and in the other hand a book that he was reading aloud.

Thor held his breath, because the two men had neither seen nor heard him.

Mobius continued reading.

“Then, madam, I need not lose my happiness; for if I have the gift of making clever whosoever I love best, you also are able to make the person you prefer as handsome as ever you please. Could you love me enough to do that?”

“I think I could,” said the princess, and her heart being greatly softened towards him, she wished that he might become the handsomest prince in all the world. No sooner had she done so than Riquet with the Tuft appeared in her eyes the most elegant young man she had ever seen.

Loki sneered, "Of course, to be happy, they both have to be beautiful and smart. I know it's a fairy tale and doesn't fit reality, but frankly, I'd never read that to my kids."

"Sweetheart," Mobius said softly while stroking Loki's hair soothingly before continuing, "Listen to the end, I think you'll enjoy it more."

Loki harrumphed, but remained silent as Mobius continued, " Some people have said that this was no fairy-gift, but that love created the change. They declare that the princess, when she thought over her lover’s perseverance, patience, good-humour, and discretion, and counted his numerous fine qualities of mind and disposition, saw no longer the deformity of his body or the plainness of his features. However this may be, it is certain that the princess married him; that either she retained her good sense, or he never felt the want of it; and he never again became ugly—or, at least, not in his wife’s eyes, so they both lived very happy until they died. Morality, all is beautiful in those whom we love, and those whom we love are witty and intelligent"

Loki turned on his back and looked at Mobius.

Thor stepped back into the doorway, he was no longer able to see but he heard Loki, "Mobius, it's kind of like the two of us in the end," he chuckled before continuing, "except that we're both princes. But what I mean is that you have seen beyond what I have shown the world."

Thor heard Mobius nod before answering, "And you, Loki, have opened my mind.  So there is nothing to stop us from living very happy until we die."

The only thing Thor heard again before walking away was his little brother's undoubtedly happy laughter.

**********

Thor had not often had the opportunity to see Loki in his Jotun form. He knew that even after all this time it was still an extremely sensitive subject for his brother, so he was surprised to see him like this, sitting on the balcony railing of their suite, looking at the sky.

He was about to join him, when Mobius appeared next to him bringing what appeared to be some refreshments.

When Loki was aware of Mobius' presence, he began to revert to his Aesir form. But Mobius protested, "Loki, you know you don't have to hide from me, Sweetheart. If you want to take on that appearance, I have no problem with it."

And as Loki returned to his Jotun appearance, Mobius put down the tray and approached him, gently touching his face, as if he was used to doing it, knowing that if he lingered too long, the cold sensation would be too much.

Loki said in a voice Thor didn't know, "Do you really not mind touching me while I'm like this?"

Mobius shook his head and replied, "No, the only downside is that I can't touch you or kiss you like I want to, but otherwise I have no problem with this shape. I told you before, I love you, I love everything about you and it's part of you so I love this form too."

Then Mobius sat Loki down on a small bench that was on the balcony, put a pillow on Loki's lap, and lay down next to him resting his head on the pillow then said softly, "And you see, even when you are in this form, it is possible for us to be close."

As he walked away, Thor thought to himself that he would not soon forget his brother's amazed expression.

**********

The next time, Thor had first heard just laughter, as he went to knock on the door of Mobius and Loki's suite.

"No, Mobius! Stop it! You're scratching! I don't want you to kiss me if it scratches like that!"Then Thor heard Mobius reply in a sulky voice, which was quite rare, "Loki..."

"No, no, no your itchy skin will not come in contact with my delicate skin!"

He heard Mobius cough before he replied, "Then would you please shave me?"

Then the two men seemed to be gone, and Thor couldn't help but be curious and slowly opened the door. The living room was empty, but Thor heard voices that seemed to come from a small adjoining room. He knew he shouldn't, but he peeked through the half-open door anyway.

Mobius was sitting with a towel over his shoulders, shaving cream on his cheeks and chin. Loki had rolled up his sleeves, and was holding a razor. He leaned over to Mobius, and with a serious look on his face asked, "Do you trust me?"

Mobius answered firmly, looking him straight in the eye, "Intimately." before stretching his chin forward and closing his eyes.

Thor once again baffled, discreetly turned back and left their suite.

**********

"I'm sorry Mobius. Of course I had no malicious intent. I guess I just wanted to make sure that Loki was happy. It was something I didn't expect to see. I think I wanted to see it for myself, I'm sorry I was kind of a stalker, I-"

Mobius stopped him by putting a hand on his forearm, "It's okay Thor, you don't have to justify yourself. I know Loki's life, his whole life, so I understand perfectly well the need to reassure you, but I can promise you one thing, that I will always do everything to make him happy. That will always be my priority. Loki is the only family I have so I will always take care of him."

Thor nodded visibly moved as a voice echoed behind him, "You see, brother you don't have to worry. My happiness is truly real."

As if to prove what he had just said was true, Loki approached Mobius and put his arm around his waist before kissing him on the cheek.

"This man Thor, is the person who allowed me to change what I thought was my destiny, he saw the good in me, and in doing so I finally believed that I was capable of doing good."

Thor answered softly, "I always knew you were capable of doing good, little brother, but I'm glad you believe it now too."

Then he stepped forward and took the two men in a strong embrace before stepping back and adding, "Mobius, there was only one thing that was wrong with everything you told me before."

Mobius and Loki looked at him in surprise.

Thor added with a gentle smile, "You said Loki was your only family, but that's not true, it's not true anymore. Welcome to the family. We are your family and you are ours now."

_________

Series of Oneshot : Together, for all time, always

Fairy Tale used : Riquet and the tuft, oft underrated or shallowly interpreted. Shaving scene, inspired by Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle shaving scene in CSI

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

hello! how are you? i hope you're doing fine, um i'm here because i wanted to ask if you can write about armin falling in love with someone who's related to art, like a painter and suddenly discovering a whole new world. i will be so happy if you can do it.

thank you and please, stay healthy! 💗

Hi💛 of course! I really love that idea! Plus as a painter myself the struggle is real man, just yesterday i was having an overwhelming meltdown over what type of brushes to buy.

You seem really lovely so here's a mini fic! 🌸

Armin falling in love with a Painter!reader

{ Armin x reader | tw: none | fluff, pinning | modern }

{ "The Cathedral of Saint Jacques le Mineur, Liege" 1846 by Jenaro Pérez Villaamil 1807 - 1854 }

Reading is Armin's best friend, it always has been. It kept him company on countless sleepless nights as a child, and now it offered the escape his soul needed when overwhelmed with troubles of being a living human in this current world.    

"It's just captivating," he explained to you one day while walking together, happily clutching the bags of books he just baught. You like how they smell. For someone who reads a lot, he surely seems to be out of words when it comes to describing things he's passionate about.

The winds picks up, your steps slow down. Armin is staring at your face, but it's not your eyes he's looking at. You smile and it brings him back to reality, he looks away, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

You offer to hold some of the heavy bags for him, he gives a warm smile. You think the faint color on his cheek is a really nice shade of pink, it looks lovely under the sun.

The more he took you with him on trips to the far away bookshop near the Riverside, the more you started to understand how a rearranging of words can pull him inside an entirely different world.

It was like he could be his true self when there, carefully reading the description at the back of the books. Frowning whenever he finds a review instead of a summary. you didn't mind tho, because it ment he'd have to read a few pages into the book and the shop had a nice corner couch you two would sit in.

He'd apologise for troubling you, you'd say he's never a bother for you that and reassure him that you enjoyed every last second.

Ah, there it is, that nice shade of pink again.   

 

-

In some way he managed to share his love for books with you, as you spend entire afternoons just sitting near each other. Your sketchbook in hand, the sound of your pencil lightly scratching the paper. Him next to you, his book in hand and reading just loud enough for you to hear.

You think he has a nice voice, so you say it out loud. For the rest of the evening, he stuttered through half the book.

You laugh at the funny moments together, be it a clever joke the author weaved in a serious moment or an incredibly redundant cliche trope that while predictable, was still as enticing.     

He would always look at you whenever you let a chuckle escape, staring just for a couple seconds longer than necessary.

That sketch ended up getting turned into a painting when Armin walked you home that day.

-

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Blue glass shards are scattered on the table and floor, what remained of Armin's favourite mug. The puddle of coffee already sweeping into the canvas you left to dry there this morning.

It took you three days just for the layering.

It was a big canvas, cotton paper and natural wood. It cost a lot.

You know this feeling when you're so so broken about something that your brain just skips the denial and anger and jumps straight into depression? To say you were mad was an underestimated, and rightfully so.

Armin is trying to remove the coffee stains with the nearest towel he could find, it only smudges the paint more.

He looks terrfied.

"It was an accident I swear, I'd never..." his voice takes a higher pitch, hands shaking. "I'd never, ever mean to do this...I..." he hiccups, Voice quivering..

And just like that, all you anger fades away.

"Armin, hey" you take a step closer, carefully avoiding the broken glass.

He doesn't look at you, he's still desperate wiping the canvas. "I'll fix it, please I'll figure out a way."

The clutch he has on the towel only intensifies when you put your hand on his shoulder. "It's okay," you say "it's fine really, look at me."

And he does, with shame filled eyes. "No no no, it's not. I ruined it, your worked so hard on this and I just..." He looks down "it's NOT okay."

"Yes it is." You try to guide him away from the glass. "That's just a material object Armin, what's important is that you're okay."

He reluctantly follows, you both sit on the couch. His hands are clutching his knees. "I'm really sorry, it's okay if you want to yell at me you have the right to."

You cup his face in your hands, "don't say that, that's not true. It was an accident, I'd never ever yell at you."

Shock is clear in his eyes, his arms leave his knees to wrap around you, pulling you closer. His face buried in your shoulder. You stroke his back. Both of you stay like this for a long while, neither of you seems to want to let go.

At night, when he's getting ready to leave and go back home. You walk him to the door and he kisses your cheek as a goodbye.

the shade of pink you grew to love really goes along with his smile.

-

"Close your eyes and hold out your hand."

With the sparkle in his blue eyes and his hands hiding something behind his back, how could you say no.

So you do, and you feel his hand brushing against yours before a light weight is dropped on your palms. He gives you the okay so you open your eyes, an envelope.

It's cream white with a straw ribbon around it, it looks too good to open but you do anyway.

"Is that..." his smile grows as you pull out the card and paper inside, "a membership card."

"For the art course you've been saving up for! You seemed really excited when talking about it." He takes a step closer, tilting his head to the side as his blond hair brush against his neck. "Do you like it?"

"Armin I love it!" You're so happy that you don't dwell on it before pulling him into a hug, he eagrly hugs back and his hand lingers on you when you pull away. "But...isn't it too expensive ? How did you.."

His lips press into a thin line as he looks to the side, "don't worry about it, I've been also saving for a different reason."

Oh...yeah you know the reason, Eren’s been telling it to everyone after all. The three of them agreed to go on a trip overseas, even Mikasa seemed genuinely excited.

You look at him, you look at the envelope containing the art course of your dreams, you put the card back inside.

"I can't, " you hold it out for him, "you can still return this, they're very lean with their policies."

He doesn't take it. "Yes, yes you can. This isn't just because I feel bad for what i did, it's because..." he holds your hand in his, "because I want you to have it, you deserve the world and if i can I'd give it to you."

"But what about Mikasa and Eren, you know they've been looking forward for this."

"They'll understand that i can't come, and if they don't it's okay, they'll still enjoy it by themselves." He cups your face, looking at you like you're the only person in the world, "It's just a material thing after all, you aren't."

-

Armin likes to get out of his comfort zone evey once in a while, he likes to try new things no matter how intimidating they look.

Which is why, seeing him hesitantly entering the art classroom was not a surprise. His wide eyes switching their focuses between all the different objects in the room, from the canvas with a glaze shine on them, ready to get painted. Or the different shapes and sizes or brushes, the ones near the water jars looking softer than the rest.

You should've seen this coming, with Eren and Mikasa away on their trip, Armin has been hanging around you all the time. Not that you're complaining.

Looking at your still drying canvas, you quickly cleaned off your brush before using a towel to wipe your hands and elbows from paint stains.

"Armin," you said, amusement in your voice at seeing the blond out of his usual element. His curious eyes focus on you and he says a small hi with a wave.

You walk him through the basics, he nods while you explain the pros and cons of each paint type, what type of paintings it goes with and which techniques are the most common.      

After a couple minutes of him asking you to show him to use certain things and hold some brushes, he settles down for watercolors. You think it's adorably fitting.

While picking his brushes, you explain how in order to not damage the cotton papers, they have the softest hairs. To make your point, you take his arm in your hand and run a soft brush against his palm. He laughs softly saying it tickles, it's contagious and you're laughing too soon.

He picks the seat next to you, looking lost with the short brush in his hand and the already wet canvase. But it's a nice kind of lost, like the way a child would look at a new toy.

While he expriments at the corner of the canvas with different brushes and swipes the colors, other people start filling the room and soon enough everyone has taken their seats.

The instructer begans setting up today's study object, a couple of pink Camellias in a tinted turquoise vase, creating a nise color contrast.

You stare at them for a while, wondering where did you see that fimilar faint of pink. The question answers itself when Armin taps your shoulder and ask how to start layering the paint

-

It's around sunset when the two of you are walking together, he's talking about all the new things he never knew about art that he just discovered today. You're listening to him while nodding occasionally, it's when he stops mid-rant that you look at him.

"I just realised something" he says, before facing you.

"Oh? And what is it"

He looks at you, really looks at you. The sun is shining behind you as it says its last goodbyes for the day, making you look heavenly. "I realised that...I'm deeply in love with you"

[cimerran-714]

Hello! I hope you're doing well. The purpose of this short "composition" is to closely analyze some of the key H/Hr moments in the books (I haven't watched all the movies, so you won't find anything about the films here).

And I know it should be obvious, but I seriously don't mind the R/Hr or H/G ship. It's none of my business. So please refrain from taking anything out of context/misappropriate the things I say. I mean absolutely no offence to any Canon pairings.

Even if you don't ship them, I'm sure you can't deny that both Harry and Hermione have an incredibly close platonic relationship together. I've heard people narrate some of the "finest" H/Hr moments while explaining why they're fit to be soulmates. There's a high probability that you'd come across them when talking to a H/Hr shipper. However, there are a few scenes in the books (which, in retrospect, are really 'sweet') I haven't heard others talk about often.

In this essay, I'd like to share some of the best scenes in the Potter books, immediately followed by an underrated moment.

Let's dig in.

Best moment:

The hug in Philosopher's/Sorceror's Stone.

Ah, isn't it obvious? This is certainly one of the finest moments that kickstarts the strong dynamic between Harry and Hermione. I really like this scene. It's powerful on a number of levels.

Romione shippers tend to provide a parallel to exemplify the attraction between the remaining members of the Golden Trio (Hermione apologizing about Scabbers and sobbing onto Ron's shoulders). But in my eyes, there's certainly something different about her hugging Harry.

Firstly, we've got to consider the context. When Hermione embraced Ron, it happened on the second page of a different chapter. On the contrary, anything that occurs at the end of any chapter/book sticks in our minds for a long time.

I'm going off on a tangent here, just to make sure you get the point. This trope (though I'm not sure I can it that) happens a lot of times in the Harry Potter books.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!"

This scene hits home for a lot of reasons.

Look, most of us can't help feeling sorry for Harry here. His parents are dead, which (as McGonagall claimed) is a horrible thing to have happened. We've also seen at the beginning of the book that the Dursleys hate the Potters.

It's distressing to realize that a one-year-old is about to be raised by a family who doesn't like him at all.

And the fact that the entire wizarding world is celebrating Volde... sorry, You-Know-Who's downfall, while the boy sleeps on innocently (without any knowledge of what's just happened), is even more saddening. No, he simply couldn't know what'd happened to his life, that witches and wizards all over the country are toasting him.

It's bittersweet.

Moving on:

Deciding that he'd worry about the Hogsmeade form when he woke up, Harry got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart he'd made for himself, counting down the days left until his return to Hogwarts. Then he took off his glasses and lay down; eyes open, facing his three birthday cards.

Extremely unusual though he was, at that moment Harry Potter felt just like everyone else -- glad, for the first time in his life, that it was his birthday.

This is, yet again, another 'Aww' moment at the end of a chapter. How can you not feel sorry for Harry? Most thirteen-year-olds have already enjoyed a lot of birthdays in the past. But for him, it's something new.

He's glad that it's his birthday for the first time. If I didn't know better, JKR wants us to sympathize with Harry.

And here's a final example:

Harry spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: the little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.

"Gerremoffme!" he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Harry thought he heard a sob before it slammed.

I do feel for Ron, getting attacked by a flock of birds was certainly uncalled for. But don't you get the point? The "sob" momentarily diverts our attention towards Hermione.

"Poor Ron, that must have hurt... oh, dear, Hermione's crying."

I think you know what I'm talking about. It's the same thing that happened when Hermione embraced Harry and called him a "Great wizard."

Yes, the H/Hr hug doesn't occur at the last line or anything, but it's certainly just a page before the chapter ends.

"But Harry -- what if You-Know-Who's with him?"

"Well -- I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Harry, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again."

Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.

"Hermione!"

"Harry -- you're a great wizard, you know."

"I'm not as good as you," said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. "Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things -- friendship and bravery and -- oh Harry -- be careful!"

That's one reason why it's meaningful!

Also, note that Harry's just about to face the 'Big Bad' (at a moment when 'Danger lies ahead of them and safety lies behind'). No one's noticed them hugging, too.

And it wasn't in front of the Portrait Hall or anything, either.

It was deep beneath the ramifications of the castle. It was (probably) around midnight, too.

The situation (arguably, the fate of the wizarding world rests on Harry's shoulders now).

The dialogue ("You're a great wizard, you know" instead of "I'm so sorry about Scabbers")

The atmosphere (It was late at night).

The fact that they were just kids.

All of these make the hug so powerful.

Oh, and it was the first book in the series. 2- Underrated moment:

Harry (and yes, Ron too) saving Hermione from the troll.

What's interesting here is:

1- Harry was the one who immediately thought of Hermione after Dumbledore ordered the Prefects to take everyone to their dormitories (Not Ron).

2- Harry isn't smug about having just saved a stranger's life.

A stranger, moreover, who was considered "interfering".

On the other hand, Ron is a little git.

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm.

"I've just thought -- Hermione."

"What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll."

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

It's pretty obvious that, if given the choice, Ron would rather not go after the girl he'd teased in class.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

Harry's saving both of their lives here (while endangering his own).

Remember that he's only eleven.

"We should have gotten more than ten points," Ron grumbled.

"Five, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him.

Ron thinks they were doing Hermione a favour. Harry, however, is a tad more level-headed. And sensible.

Also, it's somewhat of a stretch, but I believe it proves the point that Harry's true nature is like his mother's (James Potter had boasted around after he saved Snape's life).

Yes, I know it's such a cliche, but Harry is pure at heart.

3-Best moment:

The "mythical" Hippogriff ride:

Now, I've personally never thought much of it. It's a good chapter, yes, but bringing animals into a Shipping war is just... meh.

It's the trust that Harry had in Hermione (when she pulled out the Time turner) that interests me.

Anyhow, it's a pretty common argument posed by H/Hr fans.

Quoting from Wikipedia:

In some traditions, the hippogriff is said to be the symbol of love, as its parents, the mare and griffin, are natural enemies. In other traditions, the hippogriff represents Christ's dual nature as both human and divine.

It occurred in the wee hours of the morning, so I suppose it does have a slightly "mythological" (I can't think of a better word) feel to it.

Again, I'm not sure I can call it my favourite part of the book, especially as Hermione wasn't enjoying riding on Buckbeak.

Underrated moment:

Having fun talking about Filch and Madam Pince.

Enjoying the fact that they could speak normally again, they made their way along the deserted lamp-lit corridors back to the common room, arguing whether or not Filch and Madam Pince were secretly in love with each other.

For Romione shippers who believe that Harry and Hermione are "boring" together, it's a rude awakening.

No, the "arguing" doesn't mean they were actually in a disagreement. It's clear that both of them were having fun.

Enjoying their time, in fact.

It's one of the few 'Harmony' scenes in Half-blood Prince.

I do not believe that either of them was consciously aware of their feelings towards each other, either.

And if it's just a coincidence that they were enjoying talking about being in love, it's certainly a bizarre one.

4-Best moment:

Visiting Godric's Hollow together

"'The last enemy that shall be defeated is death'..." A horrible thought came to him, and with a kind of panic. "Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?"

"It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry," said Hermione, her voice gentle. "It means... you know... living beyond death. Living after death."

But they were not living, thought Harry. They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents' moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.

Hermione had taken his hand again and was gripping it tightly. He could not look at her, but returned the pressure, now taking deep, sharp gulps of the night air, trying to steady himself, trying to regain control. He should have brought something o give them, and he had not thought of it, and every plant in the graveyard was leafless and frozen. But Hermione raised her wand, moved it in a circle through the air, and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. Harry caught it and laid it on his parents' grave.

As soon as he stood up he wanted to leave: He did not think he could stand another moment there. He put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she put hers around his waist, and they turned in silence and walked away through the snow, past Dumbledore's mother and sister, back toward the dark church and the out-of-sight kissing gate.

If it was intended to be a totally platonic visit, why a pose that's very romantic? Also, as someone else had mentioned in their blog, Harry rarely (if never) initiates physical contact with anyone.

There's also a kissing gate present in the Church.

It seems as if JKR has got a flair for writing co-incidences that further cement the H/Hr relationship.

Underrated moment:

Ernie Macmillion's change of heart:

This is simply beautiful, and even more so as Macmillion was aware that Harry can speak Parseltongue (an ability commonly associated with Dark Wizards).

What happens when students are mysteriously turning into stone, and you figure out that one of them was "egging on" a snake during a duelling club? A boy, moreover, who dislikes the Muggles he lives with? Someone who managed to defeat Lord Voldemort himself?

Hmm...

The logical conclusion would be that Harry's got a hand in it. Ernie believed that Harry Potter was the one Petrifying everyone, even a few weeks/months after the attacks stopped.

What takes the Hufflepuff to bring him to his senses?

The fact that Harry would never harm his Muggle-born friend.

I know it's a little thing, but it shows that the whole school (indeed, Ernie belonged to a different House) was aware of how close Harry and Hermione were together.

Note that he'd apologized immediately after a double-attack.

"Harry, harm Hermione Granger? Impossible!"

Macmillian was the one being paranoid, and told tales about Harry to Hannah Abbot.

And yet a single thing changed his mind completely.

To wind up, I'mma give you another part from the first book:

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry's heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die." "Do you mean," Harry croaked, "that was Vol-" "Harry! Harry, are you all right?" Hermione was running toward them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her.

What's noteworthy is that Hermione apparently doesn't care about staying close to Hagrid and protecting herself. She's so worried about what's happened to Harry that she's rushing along in front of Hagrid.

Throughout the books, you can see Harry being protective of Hermione.

The feeling's mutual ;)

[titsthedamnseason]

Hi, do you have any fantasy recommendations? I've been in a slump and want to get back into reading. I don't mind if it's an ongoing or completed series or even if there's any standalones I don't think I've read a fantasy standalone

i don’t read that much fantasy so i’m sorry this list won’t be super comprehensive but here you go <3

strange the dreamer and muse of nightmares - just finished this duology and gave them both 5/5 stars! it’s not really your classic war packed / action fantasy if that’s what you’re looking for but i think they’re really beautifully written books with such clever plotting. also understandable but enjoyable prose and just the right level of romance

these violent delights - this is very low grade fantasy, like i don’t even think i would normally count it but since it’s technically labeled that way it’s too good to not include. another duology and 8 billion / 10 rating (especially if you like romance, knives, and action)

six of crows - i feel like i just assume everyone has read it but if you haven’t? you must.

the gilded wolves - actually fantastic? like way too complex for my pea brain to understand but just sensical enough to know it’s incredible. this is a great pick if you want found family / amazing characters. warning for a questionable ending to the last book, although as a whole it was still a great book so i can’t complain (much)

a curse so dark and lonely - god i wish more people read this series!! set in a high fantasy world with great plots and characters but still very easy to understand. will keep you on the very edge of your seat

crier’s war - super quick read(s) with such brilliant world/character building, plus it’s wlw. there’s nothing more i could ask

the folk of the air - again i kind of just assume everyone has read it. but if you haven’t, do it. now. i meant literally right this second what’s not clicking.

the bridge kingdom - needs more recognition literally cant recommend enough. fantastic and engaging world building, incredible characters, knife wife, incorporates so many amazing tropes, literally cant speak highly enough to do justice to how amazing this duology (with an imminent spinoff) is

sorcery of thornes - a standalone! although there is a companion novel set in the same world they just don’t need to be read together or share characters (as far as i know, i haven’t read it yet). this one is so so so creative and has a great main character trio with just the right hint of romance. author’s writing style is amazing

the shadows between us - another standalone for you! i didn’t like this one as much as other people but it is very popular. much more emphasis on romance on not the world or fantasy elements so i would keep that in mind depending on what you’re looking for

to kill a kingdom - standalone! this one is super interesting, definitely on the lower half of my list but a very good book in its own right. emphasis on killer mermaids and romance if that’s your kind of thing. little mermaid vibes if ariel was a killer siren

the darkest part of the forest - my last standalone for you! it’s been so long since i’ve read this book that i don’t remember a lot to say about it besides that it’s very low grade fantasy for the most part, but you can never go wrong with holly black

caraval - forever crying that this series doesn’t get more love. circus / mysterious vibes with such a gorgeous world and magic and literally the perfect amount of romantic drama

renegades - oh i’m already foaming at the mouth. this is the dystopian superhero / villain star crossed romance spy series that you never knew you needed in your life. but you do. this series will fix you

books i haven’t read yet / want to read:

we hunt the flame - my cr!! absolutely incredible so far. such a beautiful and intriguing world was created with just the right hint of star crossed romance

the poppy war - my next read, if all sticks to plan lol. i hear wildly amazing things about the plots, characters, and romances for these books so i’m so glad i can finally start reading them after getting them for christmas

an ember in the ashes - another long awaited series to get too but i fear this one has the power to crush me

kingdom of the wicked - i love sjtr so i can’t wait to read this currently ongoing series! it’s new adult with dark romance vibes

[d-plays-otome-and-vn-games]

I played @undermaintenancegame last night...

And got Theo's route first. 💙

Then I continued tonight, and came to the conclusion that...

I love him. He's so my type irl or at least I want someone like him irl 😭

I kinda feel like, among the three boys, he's the one for me. His route came easy to me. Like I didn't have a hard time choosing the right choices to get to this...

Plus, I looked at the profiles on itch and I'm like, okay, let's try and get Theo's route, then boom! I'm on his route(*)!! 🥳🎉🎉

I LOVE HIM 😍😍😍

💙💙💙

My second route is... *drumroll*

💖

Luca!!!

Oh goodness, I've been through a lot in his route. First, this...

His bad end 😭

I'm so bad at it. I couldn't figure out what to do or say in his route. Lmao 😭

Then, I tried again and guess what?

Normal end. LOL

But third time is a charm, indeed!!!

Tada~

I liked him, too. I mean, I didn't give up just to get to his good end, so that's proof. 💖

I'm not sure if I'll take Tristan's route, tho, because he reminds me of myself somehow and I don't really like myself so idk... 🤷🏼‍♀️😅

Might update once I decided on this.

--

Overall... I frickin' love this game!!! ❤️❤️❤️

The references cracked me up. I love them!! 😂

The art style is 💙💙💙💙😍😍😍😍

I love that naming your character and setting everything up is a part of the game itself (not just in the beginning, before you play the game). This is very clever! 💯 I really love that. 💙

Story-wise, it's also 💯💯💯💙💙💙 (I was moved by Theo's father's speech 🥺 That stuck, aside from Theo's cheesy lines 😂😍😍 love them, too, esp the one about a heavy hand 😉💙)

The romance is... 😍😍😍 My heart is filled. 💙💙💙

I'M SO IN LOVE WITH THEO. Omg!!! 😭🥺💙💙💙💙💙💙

--

Some reactions:

WARNING ⚠️ SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

This guy. He's hot and I kinda liked him at first and I would've loved a route but... I mean, I'm attracted to his physical appearance but I realized I'm not that shallow. 😅🤷🏼‍♀️ (And nevermind on the route 😬✌️ I'll end up fighting him and might end up getting his bad end 🤣🤣🤣)

Oh Mark... *sighs*

Anyway...

Eep!!! I literally squealed. Carmela here is kinda better than my Carmela irl (at least at this part, I don't want the real Carmela to hate me because I love her. She's my bff after all lol) And in-game Carmela is on-point!!! I didn't expect for her (this is my pronoun for in-game Carmela) to say this. 🥺😍😍😍 (Love that I got to keep the hoodie. Love it so much!!! 💙💙💙💙)

--

Game, why are you so accurate? Lol (Theo's route, of course 💙)

--

Hmmm...

We have a response to this in Filipino but I'm not sure how to translate it in English, it goes like this: "Kasi mahangin ka." LOL (Sorry not sorry for dissing you, Mark but that's only because you're kinda getting on my nerves. I don't wanna hate you honestly but... Oh, Mark... *sighs*

--

The moment I realized Theo really is my kind of guy 💙😍

I mean, I already love everything about him even before this moment but when he said this... I'm like, "no way, I really love this guy. Why isn't he real? 😭"

Idk how to explain it but I just love what he said. If you could see me when I read it, I'm cheering for him as if it was a basketball game and he shoot the ball at the three-point line and was successful. Hell yeah!!! 😎 That's my man!! Right there!!! 💙💙💙

--

WOW!!!

That was my reaction. 😂😂😂 I so love the employee identifier 😎💙🤣🤣🤣

I love the writer's sense of humor, in general, tbh. Hahaha 😁

--

I feel slightly/subtly called out...

But I'm okay with it. No biggie. I mean, it was the truth. And it was exactly what I was doing when this bubble popped up. Lmao jk 🤣🤣 so accurate (half of it at least 😬) 😭 but at least our MC is gettin' some. (Luca's route) happy for her. 🥰

--

--

If I was drinking when I read this, I would've spat my drink and choked. LOL again, I love the references. 💙💙 The kabedon, too HAHAHAHA

--

Is Heavenly Love somehow Tears of Themis-inspired? I kinda got that vibe when MC was explaining to Luca about childhood friends turn to lovers trope. Plus, there are 4 husbandos hehe 🤔

--

I love the title of the game. It's quite fun. Like if ever the game will actually be under maintenance, it'll be less effort. They just have to flash the key art and we'll know what's up. And maybe some notes under it like the date when the game will be back on. Lmao so cool.

--

Not to mention the trailer!!! LOL I love the trailer. It's so nice. 😂

Aaaaaaannnndddd I think that's the last of it.

TL;DR(ish) - I HAD FUN PLAYING THIS GAME AND I LOVE THEO SO MUCH I MIGHT CRY FOR A BIT BECAUSE HE'S NOT REAL AND IT MAKES ME SAD 😭 THEN PLAY HIS ROUTE AGAIN. 💙😂😭

(*)footnote: I always go for beer when choosing what to drink in games. Because I think it's also what I'd drink if I go to a bar. Hehe luckyyyyyy~

End. 💖💖💖

[flying-nightwing]

Scorpion (1/2)

I am still working on Op. Solarstorm, but I had this playing in my mind for far too long to keep ignoring. Also, not me back at it again with my favourite tropes and villain!reader? lmao. Anyway, enjoy!

Masterlist in bio/pinned

Pairing:

Dick Grayson x f!reader (villain)

Word count: 5217

Warnings: Language, violence, steamy stuff hehe ;) but no nsfw, kind of angst? also reader being so fucking dramatic Summary: You are the resident bad guy of Blüdhaven, former supervillain, nemesis of Nightwing and master toxinologist in your own right. One night, however, you receive an unexpected visit that convince you to return to your former alias, Scorpion. (Based off a prompt I can’t find in my likes anymore but I’ll link it as soon as I find it)

The storm raged outside.

The rain pelted down your windows, blurring the view of Blüdhaven’s skyline almost entirely. Only the occasional thunder bolts lit up the horizon, just enough to see for a fraction of second the dark clouds glaring down the city. The wind howled as it navigated around the skyscrapers, washing away the droplets of rain as soon as they crashed down.

You stood in front of the curtain wall of your condo, sipping a glass of wine and watching it all unwind like a movie. You found the storm relaxing, as if the loud growl of it drained all the negative energy stored within you and released it as a powerful blast out into the world. You smiled at the thought; if only you could possess that much power to smithe your enemies, your job would be about a hundred times easier. 

You were about to leave your window for a refill when you heard the faintest thud at your door. You frowned, waiting a moment, before shrugging and resuming your course for the kitchen. However, before you could get there, another sound reached your ears, this time, unmistakably two quiet knocks. You placed your glass on a hallway table beside a flower vase and went to the door, peeking through the glass eye. When you saw nothing, you backed up and reached for the switchblade tucked under the waistband of your pants, then placed a careful hand on the knob. You twisted and pulled the door open, and your muscles tensed at the sight in front of you.

Your fight or flight instinct kicked in for a second as your eyes registered the black and blue before anything else, but you held back that reaction when you noticed something was wrong. While there was no doubt the man on the other side was Nightwing, the vigilante that always managed to spoil your plans or stop your schemes, he looked nothing like the cocky vigilante who would have already delivered a clever one liner as soon as he got a glimpse of your face. 

No, that man was hunched on the wall, his footing staggering and his suit ripped on the arms and the torso. He was drenched and visibly weak, and his mask was broken over his left eye. Even if you could see only half of it, you noticed the blown pupil that expanded over most of his iris. Like his reaction time had been put in slow motion, he finally lifted his head, his gaze swaying from left to right. He had been clearly drugged.

“I’m sorry” His voice was shaky and breathless. “I’m sorry… I had nowhere else to go”

You noticed only then he was clutching his stomach, even if he wasn’t bleeding specifically there. You snapped out of your stupor, putting your arm around his torso and holding him up as he crashed forward. You managed to pull him in your condo with you and shut the door behind you with your foot. He was heavy, especially since he probably didn’t have the control of his muscles at all to help you with the weight, but you managed to get him to your couch. You laid him down, being careful not to let his head bounce on the way down. You put the back of your hand on his forehead, and he was burning. Even through the rain on his skin, you could see the coat of sweat on his face and down his neck. Switchblade in hand, you cut through what remained of his suit and slipped it off him before he caught his death from wearing cold, soaking wet clothes on top of whatever else was happening. He started writhing on the couch, moaning in pain and still clutching his stomach. You saw that it was swollen and tender under all the shallow fresh cuts littering his body, and immediately you understood that he hadn’t been drugged, he had been poisoned.

You moved up his body again and kneeled beside his head, gently removing his domino mask. He was so out of it he didn’t even notice your cold fingers on his face, nor your saddened sigh. It had been a while since you had seen him without his mask, and yet, he was still as shockingly beautiful as he was years ago. You didn’t waste time appreciating his beauty however, as you were most probably on the clock. You stood up and left him there for a second as you grabbed your emergency kit labelled poison/venom and brought it back to him, kneeling once again. You grabbed the flashlight first, leaning above his face and pulling the eyelids of his right eye open. You flashed the light in it, but the pupil remained blown, completely ignoring the sudden brightness. His left eye was the same. 

Quickly, you put the flashlight away and grabbed a plastic syringe, capping it with a needle. You made sure the air was out before finding the vein in his arm and plunging the needle in it. You filled it with blood and put it aside while you fished the toxicity test, then put a small amount of blood in the vial and twirled it to mix it with the powder. You waited a minute and checked the scale, which told you if left untreated, whatever was flowing through his veins would be very lethal. You swore under your breath as you pushed to your feet again, heading for your bedroom and your walk in wardrobe. At the back of it, you punched a code in a pad and the wall pulled slightly toward you. With a tug, you pulled it all the way out and grabbed the first o negative blood bag as well as tubes and a stand to hook it on. You returned to him and prepared his transfusion in a record time, setting the bag and the tubes then putting once again a needle in his arm. At this point, he had stopped moving, but his chest still rose and fell in jagged motions. 

You remained there a couple of seconds more to be sure he was really passed out, then you grabbed the syringe filled with blood and moved everything else out of the way. You put the syringe on the counter while you dragged your working station from another room--only now glad that you made the choice to have it on wheels--and put it so you could have a good view of Dick even when working. You took the time to put gloves, then brought the syringe with you and sat behind your microscope.

You put a drop of blood on the slide and got to work.

---

You waited in the dark warehouse, your ears strained for any other sound than the water leaking from the roof. Your double edged spear was prominent on your back, glistening under the faint light coming from the bright spot outside. You hadn’t taken it out in a while, but its blades were still sharp and deadly. You hoped the sheer sight of it would be enough to remind your rendez-vous who was in charge here, but you wouldn’t mind using your weapon once again. 

You stared deeper into the building as quiet footsteps grew closer, and seconds later, your contact emerged from the darkness. You let them come to you as you remained attentive to your surroundings. Just because they were an old colleague of yours, it didn’t mean you trusted them. If anything, it made them even more dangerous in your eyes. 

“Scorpion” They greeted with a smirk, using your old nickname. You couldn’t help but let a chuckle at the memory of the good old days, when you definitely wouldn’t have gone to such lengths for Nightwing out of all people. “What owes me the pleasure of getting your call tonight?”

“I need some intel” You went straight to the point, fishing a small vial from your black trenchcoat, holding it up to eye level. “This is a very rare sample of Diamondback rattlesnake venom I extracted from the blood of an unfortunate victim. Any idea how it got into Blüdhaven without me knowing?”

They raised an eyebrow after giving the vial a quick glance. “Are you accusing me of smuggling it into the city?”

“Not yet” You carefully replied. “But I believe you might know who did”

“Listen” They sighed as you put back the sample in your coat. “You’ve been out of the game for a while now. Things have changed down here, and it’s not my place to question the chain of power”

“Have they?” You challenged, sweeping the room once again and noticing they hadn’t brought back up. Decidedly, someone somewhere got ahead of themselves and forgot their place. 

“Uh?”

“Have things really changed?” You slowly raised an eyebrow. You felt dread creep in their eyes. “I want a name”

“None can do” They backed up slowly, palms up. “You hold no power here anymore, so you should just go back to your tower and keep your nose in your mob business before we both get killed”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” You mumbled, looking them up and down. Then, you reached behind your back to get your spear. You striked rapidly as they jumped back, the blade slicing the skin of their biceps. You spun it in your hand and put it back on your back.

“What the f--” They swore, glaring at you. “You’re truly out of it, Scorpion. Can’t even hit your fucking target now. That’s why nobody’s scared of you anymore”

“If you think I missed, then you’ve learned nothing” You simply smiled as you backed away. “You’ll remember who’s in charge soon enough. Have a good life, what’s left of it anyway”

You turned around and walked away, thinking about how the powerful venom coating the blades of your staff was strong enough to cause seizures in about fifteen minutes, and death in fifteen more.

---

You returned to your condo as the sun began to be visible over the horizon, the soft light basking the whole living room in a yellow hue. You quietly went back to your room, changing from your drenched trench coat and black suit to a cream colored blouse and burgundy slacks. You carefully put back your spear in its locked case, keeping its blades far away from any exposed skin.

You returned to the living room, pausing beside Dick who was still passed out. His breathing was slower, more even now, so the antidote you had prepared before leaving had worked. The fever seemed to have died down, and you guessed his stomach wasn't swollen anymore. You didn’t want to pull off the two heavy blankets over him to check and let his bare skin come into contact with the cold of the room. You checked the solute solution that replaced the blood bag on the stand, knowing you wouldn’t need a refill once it was empty. Knowing the man, he’d wake up anytime soon. 

You cleaned up the room and brought back your working station to your office, then sat at your computer to catch up on some work your now ex-accountant messed up. After a couple of hours, you took a nap that turned into something closer to a night full of sleep, and only woke up in the late afternoon. You were surprised Dick was still out when you checked on him, it wasn’t his type to fall into the average of anything, especially not recovery time. 

You had to wait well after sundown for him to stir awake with a groan, then slightly panic as he took in his surroundings. He tried to sit up, but fell back onto his elbows.

“Take it easy” You said, bringing his attention to you for a second before he averted his gaze. “You had quite the dose of venom in your blood. You’re lucky you even made it to my door”

Even with his gaze casted down, you could see he was confused by the soft tone you spoke to him with. It was a far cry from the threats and insults you usually shared when he decided to come and interfere with your business. Yet, you didn’t like the idea of someone else out there trying to kill him, despite the fact that you had done so many times in the past. You and Nightwing had been long standing rivals, fighting for the same turf when you were Scorpion and now that you had your own mob to manage. He knew where you stood, and you him, creating a dynamic where unspoken rules were religiously being respected by both parties. And well, you hated when rules were broken, especially by people with no respect for them, especially when they targeted your nemesis.

You stood up and walked to him, sitting on the coffee table beside him. You brushed your hand down his cheek to his chin, gently pushing up so he could meet your eyes. They were still a bit glassy and unfocused from the venom, but the pupils had regained their normal size. The white around his dark blue irises was bloodshot, and the dark bags under his lids were prominent. In the years you had known him, you had never seen him so battered, so down, so not… him. Even if you were by all purposes and intents enemies, it still sparked a rage within you. You could feel the anger rise in your throat at the defeated face staring back at you, but you willed it back inside. For now.

Your voice was barely a whisper, but it still conjured a divine wrath with every word. “Who did this to you?”

“Doesn’t matter” He mumbled, but he didn’t have the strength to conceal his lie. He tried to get up, but his muscles failed him. 

“But it does” You shook your head, not letting him look away. “Someone injected you with venom and tortured you. It cannot go unanswered, not under my watch”

Something switched in his eyes, before it was buried under resolve in front of your insisting. “Sionis”

Suddenly you saw red. You knew he had been in town for a few weeks already, but you mostly ignored him, thinking he’d go away on his own after concluding whatever deal he was there for. You had no doubt he had been the one to take over Blüdhaven’s underworld right under your nose and turn everyone against you. Unbeknownst to them, you were still the most dangerous person in this city and it was well past time to remind them of it. 

“Stay here, you need to rest” You ordered, gently pushing him back on the couch. “When you’ll feel strong enough to stand up, there’s food in the fridge”

“Wait, where are you going?” Confusion etched on his features.

“I’m going to have a little chat with Sionis”

“(Y/N), no” His voice was strained as he pushed himself off the couch and tried to stand up again. The use of your name made you halt your step to face him as he struggled to stay on his feet. “You don’t… You can’t…”

You retook the steps towards him, stopping right in front of him. “You came to me last night for help, so let me help”

“I know but…” He trailed off, sighing. “I can’t let you fight my battles, it’s not right”

“I’m not, I’m doing what I should have done weeks ago. I have let the infection fester in the wound for far too long, and now it’s time to clean it” You placed a hand on his cheek, and he didn’t fight it. “It’s our city, and if Sionis thinks he can take it, he’s gravely mistaken” 

“It doesn’t mean I want it to be taken back your way” His eyes flashed pain as he shook his head slightly. Yet, he still didn’t back off, but you retracted your hand like it touched fire. “Scorpion left a trail of bodies wherever she went. I may still not approve of your current career, but nothing will let me morally support your descent to that rabbit hole again”

Your features hardened at his words. “Those are bold claims for a man who cannot take two steps without crumbling” You spoke calmly, but the harsh undertone in your voice was a dead giveaway of your bitterness. “I don’t want to see you hurt, I think we’ve established that a long time ago. But I feel like it’s a good time to remind you that what was given can be taken away”

“You’re threatening me now?”

You gave him a cold smile as you backed away. “Oh honey, you’ll know when I’m threatening you”

“So we’re back to this uh?” His sneer transcended his weakened physical state.

“You should rest” You deflected, not ready to answer that just yet, not to him, anyway. You hated to see disappointment on such handsome features, even if it was pretty much the only thing you ever saw anymore. “This isn’t a hangover you can shake off with a tylenol and a smoothie. You need to let the antidote work” 

He only held your stare, the disappointment you dreaded steadily growing in his blue eyes. His lack of words were as effective as his worst scolding. Without breaking eye contact, you fished your phone from your pocket and dialed the first contact in your list.

“Borovski, arrange a last minute meeting with Mr. Sionis” You spoke in a flat tone. “Yes, let him know that Scorpion requires an audience”

------

You found the place of the meeting peculiar. 

The underground casino was crassy, a cloud of cigarette smoke hanging low in the air. No players were sitting at the tables, no bartenders were on duty, only a handful of armed guards giving you a not so warm welcome into the establishment and one man in a purple sequin suit.

“Ah, Scorpion!” Sionis called as he stood up. Then, he paused as he took you in. “I must say, you are not what I expected”

You raised an eyebrow at the grimace he made, but he kept looking you up and down as if there was something he didn’t quite catch. Finally, his eyes stopped on your spear on your back, and his face lit up with understanding. He laughed, but it seemed way too forced.

“Oh, I get it now!” He wiped nonexistent tears from his eyes as he pointed back and forth between you and the spear. “It’s because the spear’s like a scorpion tail. Very clever!”

“I’m glad to see there are no explanations required then” You scoffed sarcastically as you took one step forward. Immediately, his guards closed in on you.

“Aht aht,” He held a finger up, waving it obnoxiously. “I might find it clever, but there is no scenario possible in which you come close to me with that thing. Hand it over”

“Afraid of a little blade, Sionis?” You taunted, nevertheless taking your spear off your back and handing it to one of his goons. 

“Nice try, but we both know it’s not just the blade” He made yet another grimace as you got cleared to come closer. “Men, be careful not to touch the shiny part of it, kay? I’d hate to stain the floors with your dead bodies”

You smirked as you sat down in the chair he gestured to, resting your arms on the empty poker table. He sat down sideways in front of you and crossed his legs, bouncing his feet to an imaginary beat. “So... Miss Scorpion,” He began, a hint of humour in his voice like the situation was amusing. “I gotta say, I admire your previous work. But how long has it been since then? Five, six years? Where have you been?”

“Seven” You corrected. “I inherited a criminal empire from my father, changed vocations. Rather than sting people, I synthesize antidotes to the most potent venoms and sell them for quite a fortune per dose”

“Uh, I heard you were in the drug market” He frowned. “Perhaps my intel was… Mistaken”

“That too” The corner of your lips went up. “Well dosed, venom makes for a fantastic psychedelic. But worry not about your circle, those are no street drugs. Not a lot of people can afford it, in fact”

He nodded slowly. “So you want what exactly, to sell to me?” 

“No” You shook your head, your smile turning just a bit more sinister as you grabbed the rattlesnake venom vial and rolled it to him. Slowly, he picked up and observed it, recognition flashing in his features. You leaned forward, setting your stare on him. “I’m here for other concerns. Like you bringing venom in my city without my authorization”

He sat back in his chair, amused and unimpressed. He twirled the vial in his gloved hands, lazily studying it. “It’s not your city anymore” He shrugged. “It was right there for the taking, and honestly it is so much more fun than Gotham, without a gloomy bat lurking in the dark”

You didn’t react immediately. You simply observed him, then subtly calculated the distance of each goon from him. In theory, their reaction times would be slow enough for you to get to Sionis. But you held back, knowing he’d expect it now. 

“That’s what your smuggler said, too” You hummed, watching closely as his eyes met yours. He mustn’t be happy about that, because his expression became a notch darker. “Before I killed them, that is. But I guess I did you a favor in doing so. They would have sold you out to the next opportunist. Nobody likes a traitor, right?”

He regained his composure, but the bitterness in his eyes didn’t leave. “When I heard you wanted to meet, I thought it’d be to apologize to me for your misstep” He took a deep breath. “I was ready to let you go with some compensation for my loss in the form of doing my dirty work, I really was. But now I see you still want to be insolent--”

“Alright, I’ll say this once and only once” You interrupted him, and he instantly grew offended. “Get out of my city. Leave and never come back, or Nightwing won’t be the one you’ll be facing”

“So, this is what got your panties in a twist” He laughed, then seriousness fell back down on his features in a snap. “Kill her”

Before they could move, you pushed out of your chair and grabbed your switchblade in your belt. Your footwork was swift as you spun around Sionis, avoiding the range of the gun he was pulling out, and stopped behind him. A second later, his head was slammed down on the table and your blade was pressed to his throat. You looked up at the goons who had halted their movements, suspense of what you’d do next hanging in the air. 

“Drop your weapons” You ordered, nodding at the gun aimed at you. “C’mon, off with it. Kick them away too”

“Drop your weapons” Sionis repeated through his teeth, not daring to move a muscle. God knew what was on your blade, and if you drew blood, it’ll most likely be over for him. “Fuck!”

Slowly, they lowered their weapon to the ground and kicked them toward you. “Good” You huffed out before leaning closer to Sionis. “Now maybe you won’t underestimate me anymore. This is only a taste of what will come to you if you keep provoking me. I’ll destroy you like a poison running its course through a healthy vein, and you’ll regret setting eyes on my city. Understood?”

“You fucking bitch” He panted, a twisted smile on his lips. “You’re fucking dumb if you think you can get out of here alive. You’re out of your league, little girl”

“Really? I was under the impression that your life mattered more than mine” You said as you pressed your blade further, exposing the metal to his blood long enough to know the venom got in. You retracted your blade, but kept the hand on his head. “If I don’t make it out of here, neither will you. You’ll be dead in thirty minutes, like your smuggler. It’s gonna be painful and ugly, trust me. But if I walk out of here, in five minutes you’ll have a delivery boy knocking at your door and handing you the antidote. So what’s it gonna be, Sionis?”

He took a moment, exhaling loudly as his breathing quickened. “Go” He muttered harshly, glaring up sideways at you with a thousand daggers. “Fucking shit hell, go!”

You grinned, making the motion of leaving, but you weren’t done just yet. “One more thing” You slammed his head on the table once again before letting him go. “Nightwing is off limits. You’d do well to remember it”

You backed off of him, letting him stand up again and adjust his suit with an undignified huff. His eyes shot thunder at your back as you retreated, smugly taking your spear out of a goon’s hand and exiting the casino. 

You weren’t such a fool not to expect retaliation, but at least you could say he had been warned through an over of what would be waiting for him. 

-----

You weren’t expecting a welcome party back home, but Dick was there, on his feet, leaning on the couch as he glared at the front door. 

“I thought you’d be back to sleep by now” You mused as you got in your apartment. You dropped your keys on the counter and made a show of putting down your spear. His eyes burned into yours as he watched your every move like a hawk. You raised an eyebrow as you took off your coat, then unclipped your utility belt and dropped it beside your keys. “Why now, are you finally out of clever one liners?” 

He scoffed, then crossed his arms against his chest and looked away.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know why you’re mad I went after Sionis” You kept speaking, as he clearly gave you the silent treatment. “Who, by the way, tried to kill you with rattlesnake venom, in case you have already forgotten”

“I’m not mad” He finally mumbled. “I’m mourning the days where I didn’t have to worry about you going on a killing spree anymore”

“Is that all you think of me?” Your tone turned dry as you took one step toward him. “A loose cannon that needs to be held on a leash?”

“I don’t know” He shrugged sarcastically. “From what I remember from your so called glory days, bodies pile up pretty quickly when you’re in a mood”

You closed your eyes as your eyebrows rose in disbelief. “I’ve always liked you, Dick” You began after taking a deep breath. “As yourself and as Nightwing. We’ve always had a lot of common enemies, and I was fine with sharing this city with you”

You paused, slowly closing the distance between you and him. His muscles were tense, and his posture was defensive.

“If you think this was bad, oh you’re in for a treat, honey” You were face to face now. “I held back out of respect for you. Sionis is alive, out of respect for you. I healed you out of respect for you. Now that I know none of that respect is reciprocated, what stops me from fully being the bad guy?”

He stood up fully, towering over you. You had to look upwards to hold his glare.

“Me”

You smirked. “You’re so full of yourself”

“You don’t believe I can?”

“Well, you couldn’t when I was holding back”

“What makes you think I wasn’t holding back too?” He raised a challenging eyebrow.

“You had no reason to leave me out on the streets to pile up bodies, as you put it so eloquently” You taunted. “Unless…”

You inched closer, your faces only inches apart now.

“Unless you liked the chase as much as I did”

“In your dreams” He sneered.

“Oh, every night without a fail” 

Before you could blink, he sneaked his hand behind your head and crashed his lips to yours. You were surprised, but you didn’t waste time leaning into it. For a man still weak from his previous poisoning, he recovered his spunk pretty quickly. His fingers dug into your side as you moved against each other, and if you didn’t know better, you’d believe he was trying to leave bruises on your skin. You returned the favor, brushing your hands against his bare chest, but his reaction wasn’t the one you had anticipated. He hissed, probably still sensitive around the stomach from the effect of the venom, and you took the opportunity to catch his lower lip between your teeth, giving it a soft bite. 

“Fuck” He grunted, his eyes fluttering close.

“Are you sure you’re strong enough for this?” You hummed, tracing the dark bags under his eyes with your thumb. He opened his eyes once again, an incredulous and slightly offended glint in them that told you he was tired of you asking any variant of this question. “Alright, no need for hostility”

You returned your lip to his as he steadily backed you through your condo, navigating with assurance toward your bedroom. Your back pushed the door open with a thud, and soon after, you felt the mattress pressing behind your knees. You sat back, peeling off your shirt from your body and scooting further back on the bed. Dick climbed after you, pushing you on your back and wasting no time to crawl all over you again. You heard noise in the background, but you were too busy focusing on how blissful his mouth down your neck to your chest and back up made you feel. You barely noticed when your hands were brought up above your head, or when cold metal was secured around your wrists with a click. 

Then, his body weight above yours was abruptly taken off. You reopened your eyes, mind still a bit fuzzy as you stared in confusion at Dick standing at the foot of the bed. Your frown deepened when you gave a good tug on your wrist, but couldn’t bring them down. You narrowed your eyes, then read his smug expression and understood what he did. You were tempted to be mad, but you couldn’t help but give him a full blown grin”

“Well, well, well” You drawled out, relaxing back. These were your handcuffs, you knew there was no getting out of them so easily. “I gotta say, I’m impressed. Using my attraction to you to get me temporarily out of commission is cold. I didn’t know you had it in you”

“Well, you had it coming” He crossed his arms against his chest, but in a more relaxed manner this time. 

“Playing dirty now, are we?” You chuckled as you shamelessly checked him out. “Very well then. Next time we meet I’ll have adapted my game. I hope you’re ready”

You might have imagined it, but a small smile played on his lips just before he turned around and left you there, handcuffed to your bed frame.

[justmybookthots]

The Stolen Heir

4.5/5 stars

I am shaking as I write this. Ms Holly Black, WHO ARE YOU AND ARE YOU REAL?!?!

In any case, I finally finished this book. After putting it off for months, I made myself start it yesterday—I told myself I must once I was done with Six of Crows—then finished it today. The first time I tried reading it months ago, my brain was caught in a reading slump, and I couldn't get into it. This time, I was immersed. About a third into the book, I couldn't stop turning the pages. 

(How BEAUTIFUL is this edition, by the way? I want to get my grubby hands on it so bad)

I can't believe how much I enjoyed this book. I went in with not-high expectations because I felt nothing could best Cruel Prince, which was Holly Black's magnum opus in my opinion—and most of the reviews seemed to echo that they found this installment lukewarm—but now that I've read it, I disagree.

It was like the main gripes I had with Cruel Prince were addressed here. I always found Cardan a little too weak, a little too uninvolved in the storyline compared to Jude, but Oak wasn't like that at all. For one thing, he could fight. I was veritably agape when that was revealed. He was a beast with the sword, and unlike Cardan, he was actually bloodthirsty. He was basically Jude—excellent swordsman, excellent strategist, very manipulative—along with Cardan's strengths: charming, silver-tongued, wry.

I saw reviews complaining that Suren stood out, and Oak did not, and now I can't wrap my head around those reviews. 

If anything, Oak hogged the spotlight for the first half of the story for me, a great deal because he was an excellent combatant against their foes. Suren, despite her sharp teeth, was of little use in combat, but that's not to say I disliked her. I do like her, though I have mild gripes with some of her choices and characterisation. For starters, I don't get why she took Oak hostage at the end. I don't like it; it felt irrational and too emotionally driven. The better revenge would just be to send him home to let him stew, and sit with what he'd done. (In her defense, she definitely was emotional. I just wished there was some logic to excuse what she was doing, like trying to seize control of her court using Oak. But I don't get how keeping him hostage would help her with anything other than causing unnecessary war)

She also embodies a major trope I dislike—the Chosen One vibe. One of my criticisms of the story is how glaringly obvious the 'plot twist' was; I saw it coming the moment they introduced the heart. The "unmaking" was such a glaring hint. And the moment the hag talked about making a body out of snow and sticks and animating it somehow? Come on. 

But I didn't care. Almost everything else was lovely. Oak's cleverness really made me SCREAM, specifically when he stole the bridle and casually continued his conversation with Suren like he wasn't at all up to no good, as if he hadn't just caught her in the act. And how, without even chasing after her, he got her to walk back to him. 

Perhaps a large part of my love for this book is Oak's characterisation. However, I did enjoy the quest storyline, which I know isn't for everyone—but I was having such a blast when they entered the Court of Moths and Suren had to solve those riddles to save the prisoners, followed by Oak's duel and all those machinations surrounding that. The plot only dragged a little when they entered the Stone Forest, which I didn't care for, but once they were inside the Citadel, I was ENGROSSED. 

I did not expect the tongue-ripping, and I can't believe Holly Black had the balls to go through with it. I LOVED it. 

Also Hyacinth's reappearance made me GAPE. I totally forgot about him, and it was so satisfying seeing that piece of the jigsaw puzzle come to place. (Sorry, my thoughts are all over the place right now.)

(Edit: I also want to mention that the flashbacks to their little moments in the past were so fun to read. And that's coming from someone who generally doesn't like flashbacks in books)

Anyway, I saw someone write that the leads are just another universe's Jude and Cardan. I find that yes, Suren does come off as scheming as Jude, but it's clear she isn't as clever because there's loopholes in her control over Lady Nore. And it's true Oak does have mannerisms very similar to Carden, to the point that I had a hard time reconciling him with the little boy in the original series. But his upbringing is so different—he let himself appear like a coddled, spoiled, weak prince, but he was so much stronger and tougher than that. I love Cardan to fucking pieces and he owns my heart, but Oak was what I always thought an enhanced version of Cardan could be. (Still not sure how I feel about the goat legs, though, lmao. Maybe minus points for that.)

Of course, all this remains to be seen. Oak's characterisation can go downhill in the next book, due to be out next year (how am I supposed to wait?), and I'm in equal parts dreading and looking forward to it. Before I conclude this entry, I do want to say it's interesting to see the leads' roles reversed: Cardan—who has powerful magic—and Jude—a consummate swordswoman—compared to Suren, who has the magic, and Oak, who's excellent with the sword. 

I know a lot of people were complaining about the lack of Jude and Cardan in this book, but come on. Oak and Suren captivated me to no end. Still… I think we will almost definitely see Jude next book, when she comes to the Citadel, raging war for Oak. 

If Holly Black hadn't cemented herself as one of my favourite authors of all time before I read Stolen Heir, she has now. This was everything I had hoped for, and more. 

- 25 July 2023

[the-bed-gremlins-reading-list]

Obligatory RO-question: how would they react if there was only one bed?👀

Ooo, I love one-bed tropes!

Tucking this under the cut since it got a little lengthy.

Diana

Does not look at the bed. If she doesn’t acknowledge the situation it’s not there. (At least not until she figures out the logistics of how to deal with this. Lots of internal monologue going on there. There has to be another bed somewhere, right? Maybe another room. Or she could go share with Jem like they used to when they were kids. Or – she’s your Captain, this is definitely not a line that she should cross! Are you okay with this - she needs to say something, to make it not-wierd, but what even can she?) When she finally admits there’s no solution she is the one who builds a pillow wall.

If you’re past the point where feelings have been admitted, though, she goes “You better not snore” and is happiest as the big spoon.

Jem

Offers to sleep on the floor or in a chair. It honestly doesn’t occur to him that the simplest solution is to share the bed because he’d never want to impose. He can definitely be convinced to share, though. And he swears he’ll stick to his side of the bed. But he’s a sleep-octopus. You definitely are waking up tangled up together. The moment he’s conscious he manages to trip himself trying to jump out of the bed while he apologizes, profusely. And can’t quite look you in the eye without blushing the rest of the morning.

If you’ve already admitted feelings for each other he double checks that you’re okay with this, and asks that you tell him if you’re uncomfortable. He still turns into a cuddle-octopus when he’s asleep. Just instead of falling out of bed he just refuses to wake up enough from being comfy to let you go. If you have any weakness to puppy-dog eyes you may need a rescue to escape in the morning. Jem can and will deploy them to get "just five more minutes".

Eydis

Inappropriate and uncomfortable jokes galore. Also a casual reminder that she has a massive battle axe and grew up in the Order that produces the best legal defenses around. Oh and lots of deflection if you try to ask if she’s okay with it but also an adamant refusal to let you sleep somewhere less comfortable. Once you’ve settled in she whispers that she’s sorry if she wakes you up screaming or thrashing.

If she knows you have real feelings for her she goes quiet. She’s afraid of what you’ll think if one of the nightmares comes, after all, being a Death Seer is bad luck – she’s already a bit surprised you let her near. And while you of all people know that dying is traumatizing, they weren’t her deaths, but she felt them, and most the time the ones she’s had to feel aren’t gentle ones. Once convinced to get in the bed, she can’t quite get her worries to quiet but she likes being able to curl into you if you’re the big spoon and use them to block the rest of the world out, or just hold you to anchor herself to what it feels like to be alive. But, all in all, she actually finds that she really enjoys cuddling. Its 10/10, will repeat.

If she can, she’s definitely cooking you breakfast.

Rowan

It takes them a moment to remember that humans don’t just jump straight to having a cuddle puddle when there’s limited space. They’ve been around humans a long time but it still confounds them how much space they usually keep with each other. They’re very tactile when permitted to be so even as just friends they assume that sharing the bed is just going to happen. They’re probably already getting comfy when they recall that. Then it depends on the MC. If they can tell you’re uncomfortable they’re already getting up and reminding you of the fact that they don’t needto sleep the way a mortal does and that you doneed to sleep. If you’re okay with it they’re thrilled and asking how you want to do this – to make sure they don’t cross any line you don’t want to.

If feelings have been admitted and acknowledged? It goes similarly. Just with a lot more teasing and flirting. (And reassurances for the uncomfortable MCs, trying to figure out what can be done to help because they never want you to feel that way around them, not if it’s something they can fix.)

Felix

Ah, my favorite cactus. (In 98% of scenarios this can have happened he’s placing the blame on Rowan or Bors – his half-brother, who you’ll be able to meet in Ch2 - for playing matchmakers and is definitely plotting revenge for it.)

He’s grouchy and muttering curses about the whole situation while he sets up some basic protection runes around the room. But he also goes “I’ll take the floor” or “All-nighter, yaaaaay” and just refuses to budge on the option without a lot of convincing by the MC. Unless the refusal to share makes you feel sad or hurt and it shows in which case he groans and informs you that the scarf will be staying on and he will stab you – lightly - if you accidentally strangle him while you both are sleeping. Unfortunately for you he’s a blanket thief, and totally unapologetic about it.

When you wake up the next morning he’s already gone but there’s coffee/tea/hot chocolate/etc waiting for you.

Where feelings have been admitted he manages to be extra awkward for the first couple minutes – still grumbling under his breath about the whole situation while he places the runes. If he trusts you not to place expectations on him he’ll probably relax and just ask which side you prefer. Otherwise you might have to reassure him that you’re going to respect his boundaries. Felix can take or leave cuddling itself, but he likes being able to steal your body heat so cuddling inclined MC’s are in luck.

Felix wakes up first – unless your MC is the type to wake hideously early – so you don’t wake up cuddling. But there’s coffee/tea/hot chocolate, whatever your preference waiting for you when you do wake up while he fusses with one of his contraptions nearby.

Rowan & Felix

Sticking both of them in the room with an MC they both are starting to have feelings for (and is willing to go along with Rowan’s nonsense) results in something like this:

Felix: We won’t all fit.

Rowan: You give up too easily, gentle knight. MC and I can clearly see that you’re wrong.

Felix: I’m not.

Rowan: Hmm…we’ll have to try it. To be sure. Otherwise how will we know for sure?

-Ten Minutes Later-

Felix: *impersonating a grumpy blanket caterpillar* Fine. I was wrong. This is nice.

Honestly though, Rowan is probably going to be teasing and joking with both the MC and Felix until you both have relaxed about it. (Felix, the anxiety cactus that he is, has a soft spot for people that make him laugh. Clever MCs may have a slightly unfair advantage with winning him over.) And comfy cuddle pile. Rowan insists the MC takes the middle so that you have at least a chance at keeping some of the blanket.

If y’all have admitted feelings. Lots of laughter and joking is going to happen. Felix trying, and failing, to pretend to be annoyed with Rowan – and nothing will ever convince Felix that Rowan didn’t somehow arrange the whole scenario on purpose somehow. MC or Felix has to get stuck in the middle to deal with the blanket thief.

Felix is the first one actually awake, so he makes the run for coffee/tea/hot chocolate/etc and breakfast while Rowan gets to enjoy some extra cuddles.

BONUS SIBLING ROUND - Riley

Riley used to crawl into your bed all the time when they had nightmares or felt lonely before you left to go train and join the army. They could have definitely found a way to scam another room out of someone else, but they like the idea of getting to hang out with you again. So here you are.

(Besides, if their big sibling is there then they don't have to be so careful about watching their own back. They might be able to sleep with both eyes closed for once, and that'd be sort of nice.)

One thing that definitely hasn't changed with them growing up? Riley still kicks and flops around in their sleep.

[enigma-im]

Twelfth day of Christmas...

Trope: Mutual pining Relationship: Robot x Human Word count: 6,589

The bell chimes from the door. Without missing a beat I continue welding the derby car in front of me. It doesn't take a genius to realize who is here at such a ridiculous hour. Tenna just has to wait till I'm finished fixing up Bruce's dumpster car. Sparks fly off the dented pieces of metal, splashing around in wonderous fireworks. If the sight wasn't a norm I'd almost consider its beauty. As I lower the flame to judge my work I see Tenna sitting on the couch across from me. I try not to look at him, knowing the second he has my attention I'm done for. I can kiss getting this done before tomorrow morning goodbye.

I try my damndest to ignore him, just finishing off the line before I can bother thinking about him. It's a hard task as I already feel anxious with him watching me. His stare picks at me till I'm honestly fighting the urge to look up. It's like he has some gravity to him that I'm drawn to.

"Damn it," I sigh. I turn off the torch and slam it on the hood of the Junker. I snap my helmet covered eye to him, seeing that infuriating smirk on his skull-like face. He has to know what that does to me. Tenna is an annoying little tick that has no business getting under my skin the way he does. His constant presence and never-ending teasing will be my undoing one day.

But damn if I don't love him for it.

Slamming my helmet up I glare at him," Have any idea what time it is?"

"10:34pm exactly," he spreads his arms wide on the couch headrest," is that a problem?"

Scoffing at his know-it-all look I toss the helmet on top of the car with the welding torch. I walk over to my workbench, picking up a used rag to wipe my face. Glancing over at Tenna I catch him staring, his legs spreading wide in an 'I'm powerful' pose. I roll my eyes as my heart flutters. How dare he.

"What do you need this time, Tenna," I ask, cutting to the chase.

"Haven't seen you in nearly a week and all you've got to say is 'you know what time it is' and 'what do you need this time'," he mocks my voice," can't I just come to see my favorite mechanic?"

I look deadpan to him," I've known you for nearly two years, not once have you just come to visit me. So I'll ask one more time, what do you need?"

He drops the act quickly, his shoulders sagging as he leans forward," Ricky Bower accidentally knocked me on my ass last week, and ever since I've been losing feeling to my hands." he raises his palms upwards, clenching his hand into fists. "It's strange and I'd greatly appreciate your help," he attempts to be kind as he asks. Knowing I can't ever say no to this idiot I motion him over to the bench.

Tenna hops up with a pep in his step. I watch him snatch the roller chair from beside the car, bringing it over before plopping down. Holding my hands out he sets his gently over them. I take the moment to feel his lightly warmed metal and leathery palms. His body has fascinated me for as long as I've known him. Having great knowledge in most things that deal with metal and wires I have never really understood how someone can make life like him. He is amazing.

Shaking out of my exploration I trace my fingers over his palm, looking up to him. "Feel that," I ask.

"Nope," he pops the P. I pinch at his fingers, digging my nail into the springy synthetic.

"That?"

"Why all the testing? I told you I can't feel a thing," he snaps. I grind my teeth at his tone, tempted to drop the task. I don't need him charging in here and demanding a fix. Scoffing I give into my petty ire and push his hands away.

"Alright, Mr. Know-it-all, fix your damn self," I hop out of my chair, ready to abscond to my office to pout like a lovesick teen. Before I can make it a step he snatches my wrist, tugging me back.

"Fine, fine," he sighs," I'm sorry. Will you please ignore my pitiful outbursts, I'm just a tad frustrated not being able to feel anything." his gaze drops to where he Is holding me, rubbing his thumb across my skin. He huffs.

I snatch my hand out of his," Fine, but one more and I'm kicking ya out."

"Wouldn't expect anything less," he smirks.

I grab his hand again, trailing my hands to his forearm where I open a panel. The underside of his arm pops off easily. Having replaced this very piece long before it no longer stays connected. I set it off to the side. I expertly look over his wires and parts. It all looks to be working fine, I dig my fingers in to investigate deeper.

"So what did Ricky do again," I ask, filling the silence as I work. I feel him shrug as his arm jostles in my hands.

"That dumb son of a bitch was wobbling on his way out the bar. Being the kind soul I am-" I roll my eyes,"-I walked him home. As he nearly caves his head in on the street I grab him, trading places with him as the dumb son of a bitch to cave his head in on the street." I snort at the image. The all graceful Tenna falling headfirst into the pavement like a drunkard. The scene replays in my mind as I snap my eyes up to him.

"So it's your head, not your arm," I bark as I grab the panel and click it back to place. Standing, I snatch his head and tug it towards me. He hovers close to my bosom but I'm far too distracted with tearing off the cranium plating to care.

"Very grabby today," he chuckles. I toss the panel to the bench and dig through the countless wires to reach where the small dent on the back of his head is. The protective layer that sits on the back of his head is pressing too hard on his processor. The wires are detached and loose. I scoff, pleased but annoyed at finding the issue. What an idiot for going a week without coming in.

I try to take a step away from him to grab my wire welding set but I'm held in place. Confused, I look to the hands holding my hips. Tenna looks up, quickly letting go and sliding back with the chair.

"Sorry," he coughs," you kept bumping me and I-uhh- yep." I stare for a moment, squinting at his strange behavior before I run off to my office.

I fix up his head, pleased as can be as I shut the panel back. Plopping down onto my chair I hold my palms out again. I gesture him forward. He drops his hand unceremoniously onto mine.

"Have you always been this warm," he asks, pressing his palm against mine.

"Does it feel different," I ask worried I screwed something up. I'm no genius in the ways of advanced robotics. He doesn't answer, trailing his hands over my wrist. Growing curious he abandons my hands and cups my cheeks. His fingers pet over my nose and under my eye. Smoothing down my eyebrows as I tense.

"What are you doing," I slowly recoil from his touch though it feels so welcoming. His thumbs grace the corners of my eyes as he smiles sweetly to himself.

"I can feel the crow's feet, ya fixed me again, doc," he jokes. I slap his hands away, insulted at the insinuation that I have crow's feet. He laughs, letting me walk away in a huff.

Tenna

I left her place later than I intended, leaving her asleep on the couch. Heading out of her scrap yard I make my way down the road towards my home. Passing many closing bars and dark alleys. I manage to get out of the dumpster fire that is downtown to get to my humble abode out of the city. It's not a far walk, a decent enough journey to a sweet little place in a sweet little neighborhood.

I trot up the steps, the door unlocking at my proximity. Stepping into the living room I find Ricky asleep on the couch similar to Valerie. Quietly I make my way to my room, flipping the light on to look at the large messy room. I step over the clutter of junk, passing by my vanity. Stopping for a moment I admire the dent on the back of my head, wincing at it.

"Didn't have to hit so hard," I grunt.

Quickly completing my nighttime rituals I plug myself in and power down for the night.

The next morning I sit in the kitchen, reading on my tablet as Ricky steps in. He's a half-dressed, sloppy man, sorting through the fridge.

"How did last night go," he asks. I sigh, dropping the tablet to the table.

"Pretty good actually. She fixed me up quickly, got to even hold her for that bit, and we talked afterward. You know Gilbert stiffed her the forty he owed her for fixing up his Camry," I answer. He grunts in answer, chugging milk like the slob he is. I grimace at the white trickle going down his neck. With a satisfied gasp, he wipes his face.

"Did you actually get anywhere this time or did you play annoying best friend again," he asks.

"No," I cross my arms," I didn't plan to do anything anyways."

Ricky snorts," wimp."

"Hey," I bark," I'm not a wimp. I'm just a good guy trying not to ruin a good thing going for me."

"yea," he shrugs," a wimp."

I pout, grumbling under my breath as I try to think of something clever to say. Ricky just snorts again, heading towards the cupboards for a snack.

"Just go for it, you beating around the bush just leaves time for her to find someone better. She puts up with your stupid injuries that you cause just as an excuse to see her. Nut up and make a move," he suggests. I can't help but chuckle at the pun. It trails off as I grovel in self-pity some more.

"It's not that easy, Rick," I sneer," she can barely stand me, and asking for more than what we have would be me just ruining something good. If all I can get is once a week with her then I'll take it. She doesn't need some idiot pulling her back anyway."

Ricky glares at me but shakes it off as the argument goes in circles. I adore Valerie, ever since she first fixed me up. She's so snarky and kind, I couldn't help but adore her. But, I'm nothing special and I know she finds me tolerable at best. I sigh, slacking in the chair.

Valerie

Bruce stops by sometime this week to grab his Junker car for the derby this weekend. With the bit of money he gives me I have enough to splurge on some necessities for the shop. I spend my day off cleaning up and ordering pieces online. Though I'm one for always working I enjoy getting to calm it all down every Tuesday. No customers to argue with, pieces of shit cars to try to fix up. Just alone with some loud music.

I sweep the garage floor, startled at the bot standing by the front door. Jumping nearly out of my skin I pause the music and catch my breath. Tenna laughs at me as I hold my hand to my chest.

"If I wasn't mistaken I think I scared ya," he teases.

"Yea," I shout," not shit." Tenna gives me a moment to ease my racing heart before continuing his teasing.

"You humans are just so jumpy. Scared of your own shadow," he snickers.

I scoff, setting the broom aside," cause you're any better? I remember vividly you whimpering over me replacing the pistons on your back."

"Hey," he barks, pointing to me," being in pain and getting scared are two different things and I wasn't whimpering. If I was, it was because you don't have a gentle bone in your body."

I wave him off," excuses, excuses. What do you want anyway?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets he walks further into the shop," was just passing by and figured you could be of help in fixing the dent on the back of my head. You see, the ladies don't find the battle wound charming."

I snort," battle wound? Falling onto concrete sounds extremely heroic."

"Saving poor old men from cracking their skull on the sidewalk sounds pretty damn heroic," he defends himself. I smile, waving him over to the workbench.

"I'd recommend stopping with the 'heroics' though. You're in here nearly every week with some 'battle scars'," I scold halfheartedly. He sits down at the bench as I circle him to check out the dented metal on his head. Grabbing him and tilting him forward I see what I can do.

"Not my fault I'm such a good person," he grumbles. I snort, shaking my head.

I try just removing the dent the old fashion way, pulling it back into place. With that not working I remove the piece and try to hammer it back. That just makes it look worse. As all else fails I set out to make a new piece. I sort through some scrap I have mashed together in a milk crate. Jabbing myself on different bits of loose metal I find a sheet perfect enough to mold.

All the while I'm working I can feel Tenna's gaze on me. It makes me fumble with my work as I feel pressured by his attention. I want to seem smart and capable around him but he has a tendency to leave me flustered. I bite my cheek and try to think of something else while I cut the sheet of metal.

With the piece made I head back over, ready to try and perfect it. I stand behind him, tilting his head back down.

"Anything new lately," I ask him to fill the silence. He shrugs.

"I've been trying this new drink for bots, it's supposed to keep the inners all clean and oiled," he answers.

"Yea, how's it taste," I ask, knowing how picky he can be.

"Like shit. It's like they make us taste everything but won't put the effort into making things we can eat good," he huffs," it's almost insulting." I hum in answer. I lose track of the conversation for a bit as I walk off to smooth the edges so it can click into place.

"So Christmas is next week," I shout from across the shop.

"Yea, and?"

"What do you me 'yea, and', are you not doing anything," I ask.

He shrugs," what is there to do? Ricky is heading off to his parents then and I'm left alone till he comes back."

I nod in understanding. Ricky is Tenna's only friend. Though I have no room to talk, Tenna is my only friend. I fiddle with the piece in my hand as I ponder asking him to spend his holiday here. Surely that's a stupid question, why would he want to spend his day with me?

"Besides, it's a family holiday. As you know I lack in that department," he tries to joke. I swallow a comforting comment.

Walking around him again I set the piece, admiring the handiwork. I turn to the workbench for some spray paint to keep the color scheme. Though I've replaced most of his parts with scarp I do try to keep it presentable. I shake the can as I fight back the urge to invite him. It's a waste invitation, he wouldn't want to. I sigh.

"Tenna," I start, he hums," do you want to spend Christmas here with me?"

He straightens at the question, asking defensively," Why?"

"What do you mean why," I bite back.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'? Why are you inviting me to your human celebration," he barks. I scoff, spraying the back of his head quickly.

"You're going to be alone and I thought it would be a nice thing for me to do," I answer.

"Oh, how giving of you. Don't put yourself out just for me," he folds his arms. I toss the can onto the desk, circling to his front.

"What is your problem, I'm just being nice," I sneer.

He glares up at me," I don't want the charity. I imagine you have better people to spend this time with."

"Oh yea, cause I'm drowning in friends right now. Got a family halfway across the country and no money to get to them. I'm spending this time of year alone and you of all people should know that," I shake my head, holding up my hand before he can speak," know what, never mind. Didn't know having to spend Christmas with me would be such a hassle."

His shoulders drop as he begins to stand," I didn't mean it like that, Val-"

I stop him," No, it's my fault. Should have known better. It's my bad." I turn on my heels and make my way to my office, Tenna trailing after me.

"Valerie, I didn't mean it that way. I was-," I interrupt him again.

"Fucking aye, Tenna, I get it," I snap," I fixed your stupid head, you can leave now."

Tenna tries to get in another word before I slam the door in his face. I stomp to the desk, collapsing in my chair as Tenna tries to knock on the door. His words are muffled but constant. I ignore him either way, stewing in my hurt feelings like a petulant child. Damn robots.

Tenna

I reluctantly leave her place, feeling like utter shit as I do. I hardly meant for it to come out like that but I couldn't help but get defensive. She wanted to spend her special holiday with me? Surely that had to be pity. I never want her pity, that alone stings more than anything.

I walk home, feeling the cold air more than before. Heading into my home I go straight for my room to stew in my ignorance for a little longer. Falling onto my bed I groan as I recall the conversation. How can I be such a fool? Rolling onto my side I rub at the new plate sitting on the back of my head. She always fixes me right up. Not once has she said no. I smile to myself before the image of the door slamming in my face came back. I groan again.

A while later I come out of my room to speak with Ricky, finishing with my moping for the time being. I find the slobby man lounged on the couch watching tv. Falling into the chair across from him I let out an exaggerated sigh. Ricky pretends to not notice so I do it again. With a roll of his eyes, he mutes the tv, turning to me with a fake smile.

"Hello, how may I help you," he says with great theatrics. I rest my cheek on my palm.

"Valerie's mad at me," I answer. Ricky tosses the remote down the couch, clenching his jaw.

"Yea? What did you do," he asks. I don't bother pretending I did no wrong.

"She asked to if I wanted to spend Christmas with her and I got all in my emotions about it," I grumble. Ricky scoffs, looking at me bemused.

"Your girl asks you to spend a holiday with her and you got pissy," he sits up, throwing his feet onto the floor," are you dense? Your girl asks you to spend time with her outside this stupid arrangement you two have and you don't immediately say yes and jump for joy?"

Well, when you say it like that I feel like more of an asshole. I lean forward and groan into my hands. I'm truly a fool.

"I couldn't help it. It felt like she was doing it because she felt bad and I couldn't handle her feeling like she had to do that," I clarify. Ricky barks out a humorless laugh, reaching over for a pillow and tossing it at me.

"You fucking idiot," he barks," what does it matter if she felt bad for you? If a girl wants you to spend time with her then the answer should always be yes!"

"I'm aware of that now," I shove the pillow aside," you know I suffer from lack of filter from brain to mouth."

He snickers," as do all men."

"so what should I do?"

Ricky stands from the couch," go back and apologies then kiss her like the lovesick fool you are."

"Be serious, please," I fall back against the chair. Ricky walks past, heading to the kitchen.

"I am. You keep beating around the bush and you need to be direct. Tell her how you feel- or better yet, show her how you feel- and then you two can get down to fucking like rabbits in her garage," he answers, shouting as he rounds into the kitchen. I stumble on my retort as I think about having my way with her in her shop. Her sweaty body against mine as I listen to her sweet cries of pleasure. I nearly short circuit at the thought, drooling if I could.

Ricky comes back in, hitting me on the head," Stop that, I don't wanna see if a robot can get a boner."

I shoo his hand away," shut up. That's a stupid plan."

He falls to the couch with his bowl of mixed snacks," compare to your year-long plan of injuring yourself I'd say it's fucking genius." I chuff, looking towards to tv in thought. They aren't stupid plans, they've worked every time. Even when she's been mad at me I've managed to get back in there to apologize with a well-placed missing wire. I snap my head to Ricky.

"There's an idea," I smirk," she has never said no so far." Ricky looks from the tv back to me, gawking before sneering.

"No," he points at me," don't chase that thought. For the love of God, just talk to her. You are making this harder than it has to be."

I rest my elbow on my knees," no, no. it will work. Just need your help trying to break something easily fixable and-"

"NO," he jumps up, slamming his bowl on the table," I'm not going to keep helping you hurt yourself just so you can go see her. I'm fucking done with this childish game. You need to get your shit together and talk to her like a damn adult."

I stare at him for a moment, caving quickly," but Ricky, just be a bro one more time. I promise I'll try to make some headway but for right now I just need to get her to talk with me and sh-"

"Tenna," he shouts," I can't keep doing this! I'm fucking done." he storms out the room. I shout after him, trying to plead before he slams his door. Huffing I fall back into the chair, looking to the space in thought. Well, that didn't work.

Valerie

I stew for the week, growing angrier as Christmas nears. The one time I try to reach out to him as more than his mechanic he shuts me down. How could I even hope for a second that he would see me more than that? Under the feeling of rage I have the weak sensation of disappointment and pain.

Wanting an actual friendship wasn't asking for much, right? It's not like I confessed my feeling, laying myself bare for him to judge and reject. It was a simple invitation for us both not to spend this time of year alone. I scoff, slamming my tools round harder than needed.

"Don't fucking need him anyway," I grumble," far too busy to spend Christmas with him." it's a lie but it does make me feel better. I can use the free time sorting through that horrendous filing cabinet. Yea, that's a good way to spend my day off.

I power through the week working on odd jobs, secretly holding out for Tenna to walk through the door. He never does though, staying away the whole week while I continue to stew. I don't miss him, no, far from it. It's just quiet around here, that's all. I sigh at the lie.

Christmas eve leaves me cold and alone. I try to work, keeping with the minor distractions till I'm just left numb. Some self-pampering is needed. I make myself a hot chocolate, sitting on my couch, and playing Christmas music throughout the shop. I mumble along to the overly repeated songs as I sip my drink, chewing on some marshmallows.

"Merry Christmas to me," I groan.

Nearly asleep I jolt awake at a pounding at my door. The cold leftover bit of cocoa spills on my blanket as my muddled brain tries to sort out what's happening. The pounding sounds again from the front entrance, followed by some shouting. Scared, I grab a tall wrench off the workbench as I head to the door. The second the entrance is inches open does the person on the other side barge in.

A sloppy-looking man charges in, carrying a tarp behind him. I scowl at the guy, barely noticing the heap of metal strewn across the blue tarp.

"Excuse me, what are you doing," I snap. The man lets go of the tarp with a heavy grunt.

"Help him," he glares down at the heap on the tarp. I finally take a moment to look, gasping at the sight.

"Tenna," I drop to my knees, grabbing at him. He is laid wrecked on the ground, not moving. The lights in his eyes are dim but still there. It's a minimal relief but the black scorch marks up his arms aren't.

"What happened, who are you, why is he-," I try to ask.

"He fucking shocked himself with a socket, and I'm Ricky. Now fix him so I can kick his ass when he's alright," the man growls. I nearly recoil at his volume but I can't look away from Tenna. Focusing, I grab at his arms, tearing off the panel to see the damage done. There are plenty of popped fuses, the wires leaving black marks where they meet. I reach in to find the most damage, throwing my hand back as the metal burns my fingers. I press my hand to his chest, wincing at the heat.

"He's overheating," I say as I jump up. I run over to my office, grabbing plyers and a screwdriver.

"Yea, what does that mean," Ricky asks, panicked. I shoo him aside, falling to my knees besides Tenna. Reaching for his torso again I slide his shirt up to his chest and begin to pry the plate off. Using the screwdriver I manage it easily. Looking at his bare inners I use the plyer to dig in the tiny hole near his artificial heart. I press the button deep down in there, turning him off. The light dims from his eyes as his body shuts down. The barely-there glow of his pupils is a faint relief.

"What are you doing," Ricky shouts," why did you turn him off, is he dead?"

I scoff," he isn't dead, or he better not be. I shut off most of his main functions so he can cool off while I fix the wires that he popped. He is technically still on but it's minor functions, mostly."

"Mostly," Ricky barks," can you fix him?"

"Of course I can fix him," I answer with false confidence. I think I can fix him. I'm sure as hell going to try because if this idiot dies on me I'm going to turn his body into a coffee machine. No, he won't get out of this that easy.

"yea, ok," Ricky answers, shaking a bit. Before I can start on Tenna I turn to Ricky.

"It's going to be ok, I got this. Why don't you grab my tools off the bench while you tell me what happened," I ask calmly. He nods, stumbling over to the bench while I pry off the plating on both arms. Ricky passes me the set, sitting down at Tenna's feet. I wait for him to start.

"I found him in his room after I heard a loud pop. I didn't think it came from him but when I saw him laid out jerking around on the floor I couldn't think. Gods," he rubs his face," I could kill him for putting me through that."

I rip the worn wires out, stripping them and re-welding them to his body," what did he do?"

Ricky scoffs, turning away," fucking shocking himself with the outlet. I swear, he is like a child sometimes." I scrunch my face up confused.

"Why would he do that," I ask.

"Because of you," he answers easily. I snap my attention to him, defensive and confused.

"Because of me?"

Ricky looks at me, fighting with himself before he reluctantly answers," this idiot has been making up every excuse to see you."

"So he shocked himself to see me," I ask, not really getting it.

"Shocked, maimed, dented, sabotaged. You name it, he had done it just so he had a reason to see you," he shrugs. I finish with one arm, leaving the plates off to let it cool. I start on the other side.

"Why would he do that," I wince as I burn my finger again. I feel Ricky's heavy gaze on me. Turning to him he sighs.

"Because he is in love with you and only idiots in love do stupid shit like this," he gestures to Tenna. I bark out a laugh, startling Ricky.

"No, that's not it. Why did he really do this," I shake my head amused. This hunk of junk couldn't be in love with me. That's funny in itself to assume such.

"He's in love with you. Has been since he met you," he answers. I scoff.

"I doubt that very much. He has been nothing but an ass, only coming to visit when he needs something. I consider him a good friend but I know he only sees me as his mechanic," I try to smile through the bitterness. Ricky laughs, throwing his head back as he busts a gut.

"Are you kidding me," he snickers," you two are exactly the same! Two idiots who just don't get the other."

I sneer, finishing up the wires before grabbing my soldering kit. Surely Ricky is mistaken, Tenna isn't in love with me.

"So, Valerie, are you in love with him," he asks with a big grin on his face. I fluster at the question, making him laugh again. "I fucking knew it. To think, I never met you and could tell you were as enamored with him as he is with you. If only he took my advice then you two would be spending your Christmas humping like lovesick teens," he chortles. I fluster more, wanting to roll up into a ball.

I solder the last wire, grumbling under my breath at everything. How can he go and do something like this? And just to get my attention? If what Ricky said is true then Tenna is more of an idiot than I thought. He never gave any hint that he liked me, let alone loved me. I spent the whole year feeling like shit because I adored this idiot, thinking he couldn't even give me a second glance. When he wakes up he is going to have an earful.

As I put away my tools I grab the plyers again. Stretching over his chest I press the thin tip into the hole, pressing the button. I wait for the telltale sign of his rebooting but there is nothing. I press it again, holding it before releasing. Nothing. Before I can push it again there is a loud drawn out beep.

"What's happening," Ricky jumps to attention. I don't answer, having the same question myself. Leaning over his body I stare into his eyes, the dim light extinguishing completely. My heart plummets, a cold chill running up my spine.

I jump up, bolting across the shop for my trolley. Ricky stands, asking too many flustered questions as he watches me wheel the trolley over. I grab the jump-started off the middle shelf, slamming it a tad too hard on the floor. Reaching for the two clamps I attached them to Tenna's chest. I look at the machine, ready to turn the knob. Before I can start, I check Ricky, making sure he isn't in danger of being shocked as well.

I turn the knob, a charge running through Tenna. I hold it for a few seconds. Leaning over Tenna I look for his lights, seeing none I try again. I mumble under my breath pleas and prayers. Checking again for a light I truly panic.

"No, no, no," I readjust the clamps on his body," you do not get to do this to me, you damn idiot!" I twist the knob again, asking any higher power for this hunk of junk to start.

"What's going on, is it working," Ricky asks unhelpfully. I ignore him, sitting in my own fear. I twist the knob, antsy as I wait.

It's a harsh few seconds of nothing. My heart feels like it's squeezing, threatening to pop with such force. A litter of please escape my lips as my eyes sting. He can't do this to me, he fucking can't.

"You son of a bitch," I whimper in anger," I do not deserve to find out you love me too and then have you die on me. You damn piece of shit, reboot!"

I twist the knob again, perhaps turning it a tad too hard. His body gives a sudden jolt, convulsing for a moment before he sits upright.

"Motherfucker," he shouts, clenching at his open chest. He tears off the clamps, curling into himself as he shudders. I can't describe the utter joy I feel at hearing him speak. Without much thought I grab him, pulling him into a hug. He tilts into my hold, still shaking and clenching his chest.

I grab his face, turning to me," If you ever scare me like that again I will turn you into a metal scrap cube." before he can answer I smash my lips again his less soft ones. He grunts in surprise, nearly recoiling. I hold him firm, annoyed and overjoyed all at once. Tenna melts into the actions, the hands curled against his chest grabbing at my shirt to tug me closer.

"Aw, that’s sweet," Ricky tease, smacking Tenna on the back of the head," glad you're alright but if you do that shit again I'm turning your scrap cube into a toilet." Tenna parts from me, smiling up at his friend.

"Wouldn't expect anything less," Tenna chuckles.

Ricky nods, rubbing snot on his sleeve," see you at home."

"You're leaving," I ask, watching him head to the door.

"Yea, you two have a lot to talk about. I'll get my words in later when he isn't high off you," he waves dismissively. As Ricky shuts the door behind himself Tenna and I are left in tense silence.

I look to Tenna, happy to see the bright glow in his eyes. He was nearly lost to me, left to be just a piece of fine metal on my floor. I smile at him, he returns the gesture. I then punch him in the chest, wincing at the metal. He winces, curling into himself again.

"Ow, let's not punch the injured man," he snaps. I growl at him.

"Wouldn't be injured if you weren't such an idiot," I snap," Of all the moronic things I know you're capable of, this tops the list. What were you even thinking? You could have been wiped, gone forever at Tenna the robot. Left at factory reset as a blank slate. God, I could kill you right now for being so blasé about hurting yourself!"

"I did what I had to do, ok," he bites back," it's not my fault that it's the only way you would give me the time of day."

I scoff, pushing him away," only time? Excuse me but I don't think you even bother trying a different way. Not once did you stop by for a casual chat or asked me out for some dinner. Hell, I've never even been to your place. I'm not the one in the wrong here just because you're an idiot!"

Tenna groans, starting up a sentence before backing off with a shake of his head. He tries again, falling short once more. In the end, he grabs for me, tugging my reluctant self into a hug. He drops his forehead to my shoulder, holding me sweetly.

"I'm sorry," he says simply," I've been reckless and unrefined ever since I met you. It's not your fault, I'm just a fool who has no idea what he's doing."

I tug him closer, petting at his back," yea, but you are the fool I fell in love with."

He squeezes tighter, rubbing his face against me. Tugging me into his lap we take the silent moment to bask in the glow of just being alive. I'm livid with him, beyond belief am I angry, but I nearly lost him today. That alone is enough for me to just sit in his lap and hold him.

"Do you really love me," he mumbles near my ear. I pet the back of his head, pressing a kiss to him.

"Sadly," I tease. He chuckles, leaning back to look in my eyes. He slants his lips against mine, timid and slow as he does.

"Well, I'm happily in love with you too," he says against my mouth. I tug him in for the next kiss, leisurely licking his lips and cupping the back of his head. We part only for us to rest against the other.

"I'm really sorry though," he nuzzles my head," I feel like a great idiot now."

"Truly the king of idiots, actually," I joke. He smiles, nodding in agreement.

"Can you forgive me," he asks. I nod.

"My biggest flaw is I can never say no to you," I say," it will surely be my undoing."

Tenna smiles big and wide, hands falling down to my hips to tug me close. We kiss like lovesick fools we are, straying off any more words for the enjoyment of just being here. Somehow we make it to the couch where he corners me against himself and the cushion. I fall asleep to him playing with my hair. Before I can succumb to rest I mumble to him.

"Merry Christmas."

He presses a gentle kiss to my head," Merry Christmas, love."

[my-robot-heart]

Hey, Robot, I'm not sure if you still accept Lizzington song recs (I mean, considering that our ship has ran aground in the 8th season's finale and is gonna stay there, isolated and broken, forever unless TPTB urgently pull themselves together and make up something very very clever that would allow Liz to not be dead because there's no way they can hold afloat not for one but at least two season without her, it's completely understandable that many of us chose to dive into other fandoms), but if you do...

I was just listening to Mamma Mia's Soundtrack today (which I do a lot because that's one of my comfort movies) and "Lay All Your Love On Me" started playing and I nearly burst out crying because I realized that it's almost like this song was written for Red and Liz, especially in the earlier seasons of easy flirtation and palpable sexual tension and obvious and kinda endearing jealousy (mostly, on Liz's part... and I call it cute because there's no other adequate adjective to descrube the way she practically burnt holes in any woman who so much as laid a lustful eye on Red and all her "How do we know that you *points accusatory finger at any woman who comes near Red* can be trusted?" talk etc... I bet Red found it endearing, too, which is why he had so much fun teasing her... I mean, him making lewd comments about other women? hinting at being intimate with them? flirting with them and straight up kissing that Dr Lipstick, for example, in front of Liz?.. Come on, he clearly did it all on purpose... And that purpose was to provoke Lizzy, to make her show her jealousy because that means that she's actually attracted by him and might even one day entertain a possibility of getting together with him and that's all he might ever need? just a slightest hint of a distant possibility that the woman he's so helplessly in love with might one day feel something towards him, too, and maybe even choose him?..).

And when I say I nearly burst out crying, I mean I'd been crying my heart out for a solid half an hour because that sing reminded me about the Good Old Days and what we could have had if only TPTB weren't such sadistic idiotic bastards...

😅🥲🥺😭😭😭😢🙁😤

I mean, the lyrics... the lyrics of this song are just t h e m to the very last letter

🥺🥺🥺

Lolll oh hey! Well, I'll admit that when I was previously accepting Lizzington song recs there honestly wasn't really anything I was doing (and I still am not 100% sure why they all got sent to me 👀😅😅😅) so you can for sure send em along if you like...

but that said I should admit I haven't been very active in the fandom at all lately (I'm only reading one fic because I can't handle rehashing the shit from s8 in my mind and I'm not watching this season obvi) and I'm honestly not sure if I'll feel called to write Lizzington for a while

I don't know man.

BUT! yeah I still love seasons 1-3 independently and disregarding any and all further information that came up 💀🥲🙃 so I'm happy to reminisce about The Good Ol' Days with you, Anon.

I don't know if this will make you hate me but I'm not a huge ABBA fan so I had to review the lyrics lol.

It was like shooting a sitting duck

A little small talk, a smile, and baby I was stuck

I still don't know what you've done with me

These honestly could fit either of them in my mind lol. Like Red okay we KNEW he was a sitting duck from day one. He basically didn't even need the small talk just the pen in the neck and he was gooooonnneee.

Lizzie needed more lol, she was a sucker for the small talk (you can be my gf from Ann Arbor??) And the smiles (and the Tongue Reactions). I don't know when I started thinking SHE was stuck on him... in my fanfic she was always in love with him from day one.

Jealous!Liz and jealous!Red are both amazing tropes and I would have enjoyed watching many many seasons of them just being idiots and not getting that the other was hopeless for them.

I'm sorry you cried your heart out, been there for sure. I guess that's all I've got lol, hope this was cathartic for you 🤍 (also the ship running aground, broken metaphor was... 🥲🥲🥲)