#i wish there was more of that with the time travel/past aspect of things with like this group i think its fun

[joleneghoul]

i think a part i really like of time masters is that if you consider the canon now of Rip being Boosters son then the series makes to connect a lot of the jli prior to them ever meeting what with the scarab, green lantern powers connecting to time travel, dr fate thrown in the mix randomly, etc

[thestarlitmidnight]

✨ Rewrite the Stars ✨

Summary: Being mated to Feyre doesn’t stop Rhysand to seek comfort from his former lover Y/N. One more night, that became their mantra.

Fandom: ACOTAr

Pairing: Rhysand X Y/N

Warnings: Mention of explicit content, be aware of that and consider being 15+ before reading this.

Word Count: 2 695

Master List

Being held in his arms, having my face resting on his warm, broad chest, inhaling his mesmerising scent while his fingers were drawing precious little patters on my naked back.

It used to be shared moments, that never made me feel ashamed.

It used to be so easy.

But we could be like this only in the secrecy within the walls of my home.

There were mountains that we could not climb and things that we could not change.

But this, he felt like my home. Maybe a little broken and unstable, without any sense of stability, but still, he was all that was dear to me.

And I was selfish. I always was.

It was impossible to let go of him.

Even when he came back home after the whole fifty years of being away with the news, he found his mate.

Even when they accepted the bond.

Even when he made her his High Lady.

Even when they fought together in the war and he gave up his life for her.

It was impossible to let go of the heavy weight of centuries-long shared past.

And he had it the same.

It was beautiful and bittersweet at the same time.

Maybe when he would push me away, we would be able to stop this. If he would just leave me behind in favour of following the call of his mating bond, we both would not feel so guilty.

It was not like we did not try to end it.

We always promised each other that it was the last time we were together. Sworn that it would not continue. Not happening again.

There would be so intense arguments, where we would end up throwing things at each other, cursing each other’s existence, but then…But then we found ourselves in the bedroom, making the same beautiful mistakes all over again, assuring each other that it would be just one more night.

It was always the same. A night full of lust, passion, and hunger and waking up feeling guilty as hell.

Ever since the presence of the damn Cursebreaker, we became dysfunctional. Each time he would be leaving, I wished to die. Every time he came back to me, I wished to kill him. And when he was holding me, I wished him to kill me.

It was not right. Both of us knew that. Both of us were sick of what happened to us. Yet none of us could resist the cursed pull that kept both of us coming back for more.

What was worse was the fact that I was an active member of the Inner Circle. I always was... for three centuries, long before Feyre came.

Yet she seemed to perfectly replace me in every aspect.

From the always cherished, loved, and sought-out member of our family, I became someone who was kept around for the skill set and used as a tool.

I got used to it. I truly did, almost. Amren was one of those who was there for me.

She did not know wholly about what was happening between me and Rhys, but she suspected something and she never objected. No. She even came up with good reasons why Rhysand was two days away. Provided excuses, backed up both of us, and maybe she was the only reason why this whole mess was still even happening.

"We can't keep doing this," I breathed out, but my fingers slid down his belly, feeling the toned muscles.

"Hmm," he agreed, still drawing shapes on my exposed back.

"This was the last night," I whispered once more.

"Alright," he replied with a low voice, his fingers travelling to the swell of my ass.

I nuzzled closer into his embrace and inhaled his scent shamelessly.

We had this conversation a million times, but I never knew if it would truly be the last night we spent together, and I needed to save enough of his scent to last me a while if I would never get the chance to be this close to him again.

——

Rhys left late in the night, maybe early in the morning, it depends on the point of view.

With a heavy heart and burning eyes, I watched him disappear into the night and hoped that he would come back to me just as much as I hoped he would never show up ever again.

Waking up next to him was the luxury which no longer belonged to me. No, that was for his precious mate.

Viper. That's what she was. Stealing, pretending, inexperienced, amateur, simple viper who did not even care to consider that before her, there was someone else.

Three centuries. She lived for two decades. Not comparable. Not at all, yet then once again, that blasted mating bond.

Morrigan often spoke about Nesta like she was a viper. She never was more wrong in her whole life.

Nesta was the only sister of the three who deserved immortality. She fought with everything she had, and when she met the steel wall, she punched a hole into it and crawled through the remaining of what was left of her. Nesta Archeon was the only member of them who cared enough to become real access to the Night Court.

Feyre only mated into it. She was granted a position that was way too large for her. She was looked on like our savior when everything she did was to be a stupid, foolish idiot who was blinded by love to another male than her own mate.

Maybe I was just biased. I simply did not see any worth in her when everything she ever accomplished after getting involved with our world was cushioned and pathed out by Rhys and others.

I did not sleep that night. I showered, changed, and flew up to the House of Winds to sit on the rooftop and admire the night sky before the early morning training would begin.

Love is the death of peace of mind.

That much I realised in those past months.

When the night sky started to get a lighter shade of blue, I decided to stretch and get warm up before others would arrive.

I must have lost track of time because when I was practicing the swing of my left arm, I was interrupted.

"You are pretty early; lately, you have made it a habit," Morrigan walked through the door.

"Early riser," Cassian beamed, holding Nesta around her waist.

"To be an early riser, she would need to sleep in the first place," Amren shot me a piercing glare and went to sit on the bench by the edge of the rooftop.

"You were on mission?" Nesta looked me up and down, walking away from Cassian's side and she started to stretch herself.

"Something like that. I returned very late, and there was no point in going to sleep," I skillfully lied as I walked towards her and pressed on her back, forcing her into a proper stretch.

"Bitch," she cursed as I kept pressing her forwards.

"You will thank me when you will need to dodge something in an awkward motion," I assured her and patted her back, ignoring her curses.

"Without sleep, you will drop dead soon," Cassian remarked, starting his own stretching routine.

"I am used to little to no sleep. I am fine," I rolled my eyes at him.

"Nobody can sway others like you do. It would be a tragic loss," Mor sat down beside Amren and performed her own version of pretty sloppy stretches.

I did not say anything to that. It did not even hurt anymore.

We used to be like sisters. When she was concerned about me, she would always speak about how she would never be able to live without me in her life, backing her up with those damn idiots who surrounded us. How she loved me and other emotional blackmail one does to make sure your family member doesn't get hurt.

Lately, it was only how much of an asset I am to the Night Court, and that was it.

Not like we had three centuries of friendship.

"Nobody can bake the Illyrian bread like Y/n does," Azriel walked into the training space, sending me a little smile as a greeting.

"Because she is Illyrian, maybe?" Feyre landed on the rooftop, followed by Rhysand. "Good morning."

"There are many Illyrian females out there, Feyre darling, but none can bake like our Y/n," Rhys sent a charming smile to his mate, looking effortlessly beautiful as always.

"I am not baking you anything. Do not try to sweet talk me into it," I rolled my eyes at him and let go of Nesta, while helping her up. "You train daggers with me today."

With that, I led her into the rag where daggers were stored, so she could pick some while I plugged my own two daggers into the holder on my thighs.

"I wouldn't dream about such a kindness, angel," he send me a playful wink, leaving his mate go to Mor and he himself started to walk to his brothers.

Angel. Fucking angel. I would kick his ass for daring to use this old nickname on me when his little mate was present.

"How come we never tasted her baking before?" Feyre asked, following the lead of Mor, stretching in sloppy fashion, but nobody called them out on it.

Typical.

"Yes, you never baked since I met you," Nesta agreed with her sister, a rare occasion.

"I used to have bunch of begging monkeys around me, who nagged me into baking something for them all the time, now I do not have any reason to do it," I shrugged with my shoulders, replying to Nesta.

I did not spoke to Feyre if it was not an official matters of the court.

I refused to acknowledge the way my chest clenched painfully. No, lately, only Az is the only one who care enough to directly ask me to bake him his favourite pastry. Others are busy doting around Feyre and Elain.

And partly Rhys is sometimes bold enough to ask for his favourite cookies, when he comes to fuck me. But the love behind the baking is rotten, it's gone.

"Bunch of monkeys?" Cass wiggled with his eyebrows at me. "I consider myself Illyrian, thank you very much."

"Brute like you cannot be mistaken for anything else than elephant Cass, do not worry," I assured him with dry voice and gestured for Nesta to correct her posture with the daggers in her hands.

A laughter erupted from Cassian, who clapped with his hands, and others joined him, clearly amused by my dry remark.

"How come you can fly, Y/n? I do not mean to be rude, or insensitive, but Emerie is younger, but still..." Feyre, who else, chose to be curious about the worse topic one can get curious about with the three other Illyrians around.

"Because I did not allowed anything to happen to her," Rhysand practically growled, his jaw clenching at the memories that flooded to our heads. "We do not speak about this anymore."

"Let's say it was a close call and Madja had hands full for quite a while," Mor did not cared to consider that nobody wanted to say another word about it and still provided some kind of answer for her new best friend. "Ever since then, Y/n was permanently living in the Town House."

"Oh," Feyre huffed and I could feel her eyes on me.

But I started to ignore them all.

I focused on Nesta, guiding her to get her attacks right. I was for some time teaching her how to fight with the same style as I did. Many asked me to teach them, Az and Cass amongst them, but I didn't. It was a personal thing for me. My fighting style with daggers were forged from blood and pain, turning to be deadly effective. Nesta just seemed to be the right candidate for me to pass this little thing on. Even when she was not aware how rare it was. It was making it less awkward.

"You guys know each other for a long time then?" Feyre asked, not standing up yet, sitting beside Mor.

It speaks volumes that she needs to even ask that question. How long is she there? Months. I even saved her ass few times in battle, yet she still did not bothered to ask for any information about me. Did not cared enough. Probably too lost in another little drama she came up in her head, where she is the hero and needs to be tended to, while others feed her delusions.

"Y/n is with us for three hundred years Feyre," Rhys responded, his violet eyes travelling to look at me.

It made me loose my attention for a moment. Those damn eyes of his. Eyes that keep watching me while he fuck the living soul out of me, while mumbling my name as if it was a prayer.

The moment of lost attention Nesta properly used to her advantage and placed a hit to my left side, a victorious grin ghosting her lips.

"You are that old?" Nesta raised eyebrows at me, mocking me.

"Those idiots are older," I mocked back and went to grab some water.

When I was in the kitchen, holding my glass to be filled with the fresh water, I felt presence by my side.

"Y/n," Rhys purred seductively, while reaching above me to grab his own glass.

"Rhys," I nodded a little, aware that others could see into the kitchen from the rooftop.

Better to keep things formal and professional. They all were too nosey for their own good.

"I am sorry for Feyre, she did not realised it's a sore spot for us all," he stood so close to me, filling his own glass with the freshly pouring water.

"It's fine," I shook my head, not bothering to even dive into this conversation.

I had no interest to hear any apologies or excuses for the lack of manners from his mate. None. I cannot care less. I was so tired from all of that shit.

"The memories came floating back, making me wish to kiss those pretty wings of yours, just to wash away any lingering pain from that day," he breathed silently, his eyes glued to my wings, raw emotions showing for a moment on his handsome face.

"Rhys, we can't," I pleaded, but it did not sounded convincing even to my own ears.

"Y/n, please," his eyes, that would be the death of me, turned pleading as well.

"We promised that it was last night," I whispered and took a sip from my glass, trying to look as unbothered as possible, because it was my face that was facing the rooftop. His was facing it with his back. Smart idiot.

"One more night, Y/n," he had the audacity to send into my mind the desperate need to hold me, to kiss my wings and wash away the hunting memories of the day he took me away from Illyria. "Let's rewrite the stars one more time."

I gulped down my glass and pressed it into his free hand, while trying to keep myself in check. It was no longer my place to be flustered around him.

"Don't you dare," I growled and marched back to others, purposely ignoring the presence of one person that I cannot stand the most.

I knew he will come. Both of us knew he always did. Even when I threatened him, denied him, pushed him away. Sooner the night sky fall before he will let the go of me.

No matter how selfish or unfair it was.

And I will always end up welcoming him into my bed, getting lost in the haze of what was and what will never be again. Because I will never be able to resist him, always hoping that indeed, the stars will rewrite themselves and by some cosmic miracle, one day, things will be how they used to be between us.

Chapter Two

[bloodstained-ballgowns]

i just rewatched ‘the woman who fell to earth’ a couple of days ago for the first time since it aired back in 2018 and the more i think about it, the more i like it.

thirteen is the only doctor for whom i feel a tangible, rose-tinted nostalgia. she wasn’t my first doctor, but she was the first doctor i watched live, the first doctor that i spent an actual extended period of time with over the episode rollout. her intro episode has middling parts (as can be expected with most episodes of Who) but there’s also so much good that i really want to highlight.

first of all, there are some really great character dynamics set up here. much more interesting than i remember, tbh. ryan is a guy who loves mechanics but is stuck in a warehouse job he hates, a guy who obviously wants to connect to people, a guy who by the end of the episode has lost both his mother and grandmother in the space of a couple of years and the step-grandfather he didn’t really want is all he has left (minus his absent father). that’s interesting.

yaz has a keen sense of justice and this raw, intense yearning to help people, to do something worthwhile, something more - the way she has chosen to express that is through law enforcement, but it’s not quite giving her the satisfaction she wants. that’s interesting.

graham’s experience with cancer means that he constantly feels like he’s living on borrowed time. meeting grace gave him purpose, gave him family, gave him the will to fight when he fought it was all but over, but now grace is gone. he and ryan aren’t related, but they’re family, and now they’ve got to figure out how to care for each other without the very lynchpin that brought them together. once again with feeling: interesting!

“i’m just a traveller. sometimes i see things that need fixing. i do what i can.” i like that they circle back to the ‘just some guy’ portrayal of the doctor here, both because it’s the one i’m partial to and because it feeds particularly well into the whole ‘the doctor is an unreliable narrator’ aspect, especially in the wake of the increased deification in the moffat era. it's a nice set up, even if it gets completely overhauled circa series 12/13. in fact, having thirteen keep this as a persistent attitude throughout the Timeless Child of it all could have been really effective re: her reticence with her companions and refusal to address or deal with her past.

the scene where thirteen builds her sonic screwdriver might be one of my favourite sequences in nuwho. i love that it’s a hybrid of alien tech and sheffield steel. i also love that they highlight the ‘mad inventor’ side of the doctor here (her teleportation circuit is based around a microwave?) and wish that they had carried it forward more. it would have been the perfect basis for her to bond with ryan over. jodie also pulls off the humour of the episode well, considering the significant shift from moffat dialogue.

i enjoy thirteen's outfit: the vibrancy of it as mirroring her childish excitability, but also as another part of the mask - if i dress all colourful then maybe i can ignore/outrun/masquerade my great capacity for darkness! etc etc. the shopping trip with yaz and ryan is a bit shoe-horned in at the end but it's cute that she finds it in a charity shop. (back in 2018 i bought a t-shirt with a couple of stripes across the chest solely because it remotely resembled the one she wore lol. nerd from a young age, me.) jodie also looks soo hot in capaldi's outfit though so a spin on the traditional suit would also have been appreciated.

some miscellaneous points: i like that she tells Karl off (“you had no right to do that”) right after saving him. i like that she gets it wrong at first and makes it clear that she’s working on the fly. she’s following her instinct, and that instinct is to help people. doctor who has been beautiful before but the cinematography takes such a huge step this era. “it’s been a long time since i bought women’s clothes” i am choosing to believe this is about river thank you and good night.

[opbackgrounds]

The Romanticism of One Piece VI: Nature and the Sublime

AO3 Part I Part V

“Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils”

—William Wordsworth

Anyone making even a cursory reading of the Romantics, particularly the English Romantic poets, will soon find an obsession with nature. Even in the early 1800s, the scars of the Industrial Revolution were starting to be felt in the environment. Increased urbanization, a technological boom, and the capitalistic glut for increased output which in turn demanded the consummation of increased natural resources was destroying old orders one after the other in order to make room for the coming modern age. 

The advent of trains, steamboats, and the telegraph changed the way people traveled and communicated forever. The allure of the city drove people from the countryside to work long, dangerous hours in factories. It seemed like the traditional way of things was being lost, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Poets and artists looked back fondly on the simplicity of their youths, and went in search of the beautiful and the sublime. 

When reading these poems and looking at these pieces of art, you’ll also find that solitude was an important aspect of this search, the ability to get away from the neverending wheel of the rat race to be alone with one’s thoughts. Quoting from Walden, Thoreau said it best, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” There was so much about modern society and civilization that rang false to these men, and it was only when communing with the primordial forces of nature that these falsities could be stripped away to reveal something pure and true.

One Piece is a manga that delights in its environments. Oda has clearly done his research while lovingly rendering each location, particularly once the series hits the Grand Line. I’ve always been amazed about how even minor islands with little page time feel fully realized, and how even similar environments can be easily distinguished from one another at a glance. The jungle of Little Garden looks nothing like the jungle of Skypiea, which in turn is completely distinct from Green Bit. 

Similarly, Robin’s desire to preserve and protect ancient relics of the past is something the Romantics would have approved of, and with Luffy at the helm, the Straw Hat Pirates don’t just travel the wonders of the Grand Line, but embrace each and every island they come across, no matter what insanity lies in wait. While it’s not a central focus of the series, arcs like Wano and Egghead explore environmental themes and the dangers of pursuing technological advance at the cost of careful ethics.

Poet William Wordsworth famously fought against building a railway through the Lake District of England, where he lived and wrote much of his best-regarded work, so much so that he wrote a sonnet voicing his displeasure with the proposed project, as well as the thought of hundreds of unappreciative tourists destroying the peace and beauty of the area. 

So while nature was to be appreciated, it was to be appreciated in the right way. It wasn’t enough to take in the sights for the sight’s sake, but an experience to be savored. Nature was an essential part of these writers and artist’s creative muses, and while many Romantics weren’t orthodox in their religion, there was a spiritual aspect in their veneration of the created world, particularly in their search for the sublime.

One Piece and the Sublime

“I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense of sublime, of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting sun, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man” —William Wordsworth

While the concept of the sublime existed long before the Romantic period, it was the Romantics who really took the idea and ran with it. It must be said that the sublime as talked about here is quite different from how the word is typically thought of in the modern day. The sublime’s roots are found in philosophy, as a sub-branch of the study of aesthetics. In his essay A Philosophical Enquiry into the Ideas of the Sublime and the Beautiful, late Enlightenment/early Romantic writer Edmund Burke for the first time divided the ideas of the sublime and the beautiful into two distinct and separate categories. This essay was hugely influential to the Romantic movement going forward, particularly in England. 

According to Burke, “Whatever is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain and danger, that is to say, whatever is in any sort terrible, or is conversant about terrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is a source of the sublime; that is, it is productive of the strongest emotion which the mind is capable of feeling.” 

So, in short, the sublime is a powerful emotion. The most powerful emotion a person is capable of feeling. In typical English fashion, Burke thought the strongest negative emotions were more powerful than the strongest positive emotions, so it stood to reason that the sublime must in turn come from the negative. While this might initially read as a rather unpleasant experience, the sublime was something actively sought out by the Romantics, and according to Burke was a pain that caused delight. 

Attempting to define something as ineffable as the sublime is like trying to define love. No matter how many lines a poet inks or how many portraits an artist completes attempting to capture the feeling of lightning striking the soul, they will always be incomplete. It’s the feeling of going out to an open prairie and being crushed by the weight of the sky, or walking in the shadow of a mountain and feeling your own smallness. It’s looking up at the bright night sky and recognizing that you are one amongst billions, a speck of cosmic dust drifting aimlessly on an insignificant planet in the corner of an insignificant galaxy in a universe whose vastness you can’t begin to comprehend. 

It’s the finite’s attempt at grasping the infinite, a complete breakdown of the rigid walls of the Enlightenment thinkers, the embrace of irrationality and emotion over cold, calculated reason. To use one of Burke’s own examples, it's the peasant kneeling before the dread majesty of their king. For some it was a way to commune with God. For others it replaced God altogether.  

Take for example a painting like The Monk by the Sea by Caspar David Friedrich. The titular monk is tiny compared to the broad vastness of the sky and ocean, which seems about to swallow him whole. Whether the figure in the painting is contemplating the divine, or whether the sublimity of the moment is itself divine is open to interpretation, and like many figures in Friedrich’s works, the monk is turned away from the viewer so his face, his identity, is not visible, because who any individual person is when compared to this overwhelming force isn't important. 

While terror was important to Burke in searching out the sublime, it was equally important that there be a layer of distance between the perceived danger and the subject searching for it. After all, the sublime was something to be contemplated just much as it was experienced. A sailor caught in a storm is just fighting for their life. There’s no ability to allow themselves to reflect on the nature of eternity on a mortal soul when they’re trying not to drown. But a person contemplating a painting of a ship caught in a storm, or better yet watching a stormy sea from a high cliff, has that element of terror without actually placing a person in immediate danger. That distance allows the person to be subsumed in the moment, in the feeling, of the sublime.

As a manga, there is a natural distance between the reader and what goes on in One Piece. The wild, cartoonish, fantasy further separates it from the real world. This gap is perhaps too great for some to find the sublime within its pages. At the same time, it ticks many of Burke’s boxes: the vastness of its world, the displays of power from the characters within, the call to imagination, awe, wonder, and, yes, terror. While I very much doubt Oda had the idea of the sublime in mind when he came up with the idea with Conqueror’s Haki, overwhelming power causing the weak-willed to faint while foaming at the mouth very much fits the vibe Burke was going for in his essay.

If given a choice in the matter, Luffy will always take the more dangerous path forward. While he’s not nearly contemplative enough for the traditional Romantic mindset, the narrative rewards his desire to seek out experiences and adventure. The series’ focus on emotional truth over realism invokes powerful feelings in the reader. The wonder of the White White Sea is all the stronger because of the danger of the Knock-Up Stream. The descent to Fishman Island is made all the more grand by the fragility of the bubble that protects the crew. The vast majority of the East Blue Saga is spent hyping up the danger of the Grand Line, and wouldn’t you know it, the Straw Hats barely sail into its waters for five minutes and there’s already a dozen things trying to kill them.

Even places like Water 7, which the Romantic’s push against urbanization would not have seen as sublime, is elevated by the whimsy of the sea train and the danger of Agua Laguna. Oda takes inspiration from all over the world and elevates those inspirations into something greater than reality, injecting so much high fantasy creativity and verve into every location that the reader cannot help but be moved. And nowhere can this be better seen by how Oda portrays the sea.

To quote Burke one last time, “A level plain of a vast extent on land, is certainly no mean idea; the prospect of such a plain may be as extensive as a prospect of the ocean; but can it ever fill the mind with anything so great as the ocean itself? This is owing to several causes; but it is owing to none more than this, that the ocean is an object of no small terror.” 

[psychopomp-namine]

some thoughts on the photo diving ability users

this is more of a speculation post. I want to talk about the main theme of link click, revisit cheng xiaoshi's character arc as we can now compare him to other users with the photo diving ability, as well as some thoughts on the narrative roles of shao yuanyuan and lu guang. they all kinda relate to each other, so I'm putting them here in one post.

i. past or future, let it be.

others have pointed out reasons why the possibility of cheng xiaoshi also time looping would be a disappointing turn from his character arc, which I agree with. I will not go into that here. instead, I wish to revisit a theme that I really wish link click would go back to as its main motto: "past or future, let it be."

I still believe this is and has always been the core theme of the show as a whole. and it's one of the reasons I personally fell in love with S1 and even in S2. you can't change the past. and even if you could go back to the past, you're only doing so to change your future, but you can't undo what has already happened. you can't jeopardize the present. past or future, let it be.

although yingdu deals with butterfly effects instead of closed loops, I don't think it's exempt from this lesson either. the fact that lu guang is now learning to make this final timeline count and that he is, for the first time, looking towards the future and not the past (because this is the "last time") is him finally reaching the same place as cheng xiaoshi in terms of the character growth cheng xiaoshi exhibited by early season 2. they are, for the first time, running towards the same direction together. a shared future. this present future. there are no do-overs after this.

even if cheng xiaoshi ends up diving into the past and timeloops for whatever reason, I don't want it to be the solution to everything. changing the past has never been the solution in link click (yingdu arc notwithstanding). it goes against the main lesson of the show. so if he ever does that, I want it to be because he wants to stabilize the past and prevent any more changes to it.

more than two people timelooping for each other, I think there's more catharsis in two time travelers committing to make this final timeline really count. this is the last time. this is their only time. so, past or future, let it be.

and if the lyrics to songs like train trail and break are anything to go by (they literally include the phrase "past or future, let it be"), I think we'll definitely still loop back to this theme again in S3.

ii. revisiting cheng xiaoshi's character arc

on that note, I want to make a quick comparison of our photo diving ability havers, because I think lu guang and shao yuanyuan serve as a useful comparative lens for us to see cheng xiaoshi with. I did this in the tags of a previous post but I think it deserves its own post now.

cheng xiaoshi gets called immature a lot sometimes by other people, which I don't really believe to be true or an accurate description of him. and shao yuanyuan provides me with another reason that bolsters my belief in this.

the ability to change the past is a dangerous power, but it's cheng xiaoshi who learns the lesson of link click the fastest. past or future, let it be. lu guang is willing to erase the present timeline by diving into the past, and shao yuanyuan is doing... whatever it is she's doing to save cheng weimin.

in comparison, cheng xiaoshi matures relatively quickly about not abusing his powers, and he is overall more resistant to the temptation of using time travel to undo death by S2. after emma, cheng xiaoshi learns not to change a death node. not even that of his best friend's, whom he loves very dearly. this is a marked contrast not only to lu guang, but also to his mother.

it's a very underrated aspect of him because cheng xiaoshi is often described as impulsive and reckless, but he does take these lessons to heart and as long as he's given space to think things through, he comes out with rather emotionally mature decisions. I love this aspect of him sooo much. his big heart carries so much responsibility, and he takes it very seriously.

which is why I am very confident that in S3, we can trust cheng xiaoshi with the timeline. so much so that I do believe he can make things right without having to change the past drastically (but I'm very sure the show will tempt him to anyway).

if there's anyone in this show who can be trusted to take care of the timeline, it's cheng xiaoshi.

iii. shao yuanyuan and lu guang's narrative roles

on the flip side, let's talk about our other two divers. there's a really great "what if" post written by @sonchop that I've been thinking about recently that I'll touch upon later. I highly recommend reading through it.

when talking about lu guang, we have to remember what constraints the writers are writing under with regards to his character. see, lu guang is a tricky character to write under censorship rules. my personal understanding (which may run contrary to some fans', but I believe there's a lot more lu guang apologists here on tumblr lol) is that lu guang is meant to be a hypocrite willing to do morally questionable things for cheng xiaoshi. but he is also most likely slated for a happy ending. it will be difficult to make both things happen under censorship. these are the limitations the writers are working with.

for example, let's look at how lu guang was written in yingdu arc. lu guang wants to murder vein, hence why he talked about creating an "unchangeable node" -- aka, a death node. his intentions are very clear, and the show even frames this by animating him as wang qing's puppeteer and even "crushing" his hand as vein gets a heart attack. but he can't be shown directly actually murdering vein if we want to give him a happy ending later, because that's a no-no under censorship.

think of it as similar to how in S2 they had to pivot the red eyes concept because they can't let red eyes remain at large after stabbing lu guang.

so lu guang has to be written in such a way where his intent is not necessarily "morally acceptable" but his actions are in such a way that a really good lawyer can defend him in court. he didn't technically kill vein. he's not the murderer technically speaking. you can't charge him guilty just for talking to vein for 30 seconds.

the way I personally see it: lu guang is in a precarious narrative position and needs to be written delicately to “deserve” his happy ending under censorship rules.

so. circling back to the post I mentioned at the beginning of this section. my theory is that introducing shao yuanyuan as the main wildcard of the timeline changes will be what narratively "absolves" lu guang from his own timeline trampling "sins" thereby making it "acceptable" for him to get a happy ending. a sort of situation where, as the post says, what if shao yuanyuan's own timelooping caused the butterfly effect that led to lu guang timelooping. he wouldn't have needed to timeloop if they fix shao yuanyuan's timelooping. (<- speculation only)

anyway, so I think in S3 it'll be interesting to see how far they can take lu guang. but I probably won't expect him to like, actually kill people himself or whatever. the best he can do is probably something like his chessmaster style "gambling" in yingdu. which I guess works out for the liu xiao paralleling.

at the same time. for the bittersweet ending likers, there's still hope!! even if it's possible they'll give lu guang a happy ending, I think cheng xiaoshi will lose something in any ending. with the way they're setting up shao yuanyuan's role, I don't think cheng xiaoshi can have both his parents and lu guang together in his life atm. maybe they'll show us something in the future to make that possible, but for now, I don't see it. (something something, "just because you can't see hope doesn't mean it's not there)

anyway. if cheng xiaoshi is supposed to be the character — the hero — who learns to embody the lesson of link click ("past or future, let it be"), shao yuanyuan is the character who, as far as we know, refuses to. I mean, she left cheng xiaoshi in 2008. he's an adult now. she hasn't learned to let go in all these years. it'll be a wonder if we can find a way for her to let go after all this time. and lu guang so far is the character in-between the two spectrums. he could have ended up like shao yuanyuan, but the ending of yingdu makes me think he's committing to this "last" timeline. his line about looking into the future is an important moment for him.

it'll be interesting to see the three of them deal with the timelines in S3.

again this is all just thoughts and speculation. in any case, whatever happens in S3, I am very excited for what's in store for us, as I'm really liking what they're setting up with our three photo divers.

[graciereadshannigram]

hey fam, welcome to the April 2024 roundup of the best hannigram fics i've read this past month! i read over 100 fics total, and these were the cream of the crop.

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes and as such, is incredibly subjective.

you can find past recs below:

February March

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

anyway, in no particular order, let's go!

~

A place you can never go by det395

Word Count: 84,596 Summary: When things don’t go according to plan, Hannibal makes a wish. He finds himself a year-and-a-half in the past and seemingly given another chance with Will. His feelings about the situation only get more complicated when he realizes he may not have completely lost access to his old timeline after all. A Digestivo canon divergence.

If you follow me, you probably saw me already raving about this fic. This was so fucking good, holy fucking shit. And also heartbreaking. Made me think a lot about the nature of reality and what does it mean for something to be "real." Plus, I really love fics that explore their shared mind palace because I genuinely think that is one of the more underexplored aspects of their relationship. Definitely heavy on the angst, but there is a happy ending!

even though our love is doomed by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 82,427 Summary: Hannibal solves the mystery of time travel and he and Will decide to go into the past and take opportunities previously missed along with rewriting the regrets they each hold. Changing the past does not effect the future and they have free reign to play as the please.

GIVE ME MORE THAN FIVE STARS PLEASE. I am obsessed with this fic. I've mostly stayed clear of time travel fics (aside from, you know, the one right above this) because the execution can be hit or miss, but let me fucking tell you. This was a god damn home run. There's a little bit of angst, but then there's also a chapter where Will challenges Hannibal that he wouldn't have been able to seduce him while Will was still working in Louisiana fixing boat motors. And obviously Hannibal decides to take that challenge.

Railroad Romance by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles

Word Count: 12,400 Summary: Hannibal is still Hannibal, and Will is still Will. Except Will is not part of the FBI and they meet on a two day train trip from New Orleans to Baltimore.

Dirty. Talk. In. FRENCH. Holy shit. Okay this was excellent. EXCELLENT. Perfect characterizations, and wonderful dialogue. Wow. Also, I love trains. Who doesn't love trains?

patroclus in furs by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 130,185 Summary: If Will and Hannibal hadn't gone into their respective careers, they would have become porn stars.

I had my doubts about a pornstar AU, but I've really enjoyed everything else by this author and it was over 100k, so I gave it a shot! And WOW. The characterizations of both Will and Hannibal were spot on and believable. A good mix of fluff and angst, and the author clearly put a lot of thought into the porn scenes. Tbh I'm probably going to reread this shortly.

Pavlova by nbcravenstag

Word Count: 33,369 Summary: It’s not like Hannibal didn’t know that Will was hiding something. It was after the third body drop a week ago that it became clear that Will had a secret that somehow involved the case, one he wasn’t willing to share yet, not even with Hannibal. At 6:43 AM, Will had texted Hannibal that a fourth body had been found and that he was on his way to the scene with Jack. At 8:06 PM, Will had stepped into Hannibal’s office, thirty-six minutes past his appointment time, and practically shouted “I used to be a stripper!” as loudly as his hoarse voice would allow him to. Hannibal Lecter, though not phased by much in life, has never been entirely able to predict Will Graham, but this is just… getting out of control. Alternatively, the FBI is hunting a serial killer targeting male strippers, and Will decides to throw himself into the fray. Hannibal is beyond pleased.

An AU where Will was a stripper in college and now he's working a case where he can be live bait as a stripper? Shut the fuck up. Mostly told from Hannibal's perspective, and it's just *chefs kiss*. Who knew Will giving Hannibal a lap dance would be so HOT. (I could have guessed.)

Lessons In Submission by wyldefire

Word Count: 5,173 Summary: Hannibal was stubborn, independent, and Will had always loved that about him, but there were times, times like these, in the midst of heat, in the midst of such a thorough breeding, when lessons in submission were necessary.

My only thought at the end of this was, "Shut the whole fuck up" in the best way possible. Smut. Just all smut.

A Very Special Guest by LesBeanBurrito

Word Count: 56,660 Summary: Season 1 AU in which Will stays for Hannibal’s dinner party after bringing the bottle of wine at the end of 1X07 Sorbet. Embarrassed and Sassy Will Graham meets Smitten Hannibal Lecter.

I LOVE a good season 1 AU and this was checking all of the boxes for me! There's a secret relationship, Hannibal actually gets Will treated for his encephalitis, Will finds out about Hannibal, etc. Very much loved the plot, and the characterizations were spot on.

lover to your nightmare (look what you made of me) by merrythoughts and ReallyMissCoffee

Word Count: 123,367 Summary: Driving back home, it’s then he reflects on Hannibal asking him to run away that night. To forgo their plans altogether, to slip away. [Canon divergent. Will confesses his betrayal and asks Hannibal to run away with him, but Will has a plan of his own...]

You want dark!Will mixed in with some incredibly jealous and possessive Hannigram? Hooo boy do I have a fic for you! The ending was a little abrupt, but it was the perfect mix of gut-wrenching angst and toxicity + smoking hot smut. I genuinely had to stop and focus on my breathing more than once.

On the Lam by shotgun_sinner

Word Count: 63,992 Summary: Post-Fall (Hannibal)season 4Crack Treated SeriouslyOn the RunWill Graham Discovers FanfictionExplicit Sexual Contentsexual identity crisisThat's Not Really A CrisisWill Graham is HannisexualMurder HusbandsHomophobiaMurder of a HomophobeHannibal Lecter Loves Will GrahamWill Graham Loves Hannibal LecterPower Bottom Will Grahamthey love each other your honorvery meta

This was such a fun read – I love the implication that hannigram fanfiction exists and it's all there for Will to accidentally discover. I adore this author and just thoroughly enjoyed how Will learned a thing or two about himself by reading smutty fics (same dude).

Golden Promises by shotgun_sinner

Word Count: 68,488 Summary: Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 01Alternate Universe - Canon DivergenceEpisode: s01e07 SorbetHallucinations?Will Hopes SoLELOplugSexuality CrisisThat Ends Up Not Being A CrisisWill Graham Has EncephalitisHannibal Gets Will TreatmentDeveloping RelationshipWill Graham's Dogs - FreeformBonding over fooddoting hannibalEventual SmutHannibal Lecter Loves Will GrahamWill Graham Loves Hannibal LecterAlana DisapprovesRimmingOral SexBottom Hannibal LecterTop Will GrahamBottom Will GrahamTop Hannibal LecterWill Graham KnowsNon-Consensual Drug UseWill Gives Him Shit For ItMurder HusbandsCannibalismis that tag even necessary?Hannibal Lecter Loves Max

This was fluffier than I typically read, but I told y'all I love this author. Pretty much no angst, and the smut, as always, was next level. Also, the idea that Hannibal would wear a solid gold butt plug to his dinner parties had me laughing before I even started reading.

What Hatches by HotMolasses (@snazzymolasses here on tumblr)

Word Count: 107,847 Summary: There is a village, nestled on the edge of an ancient forest where it is always winter. Few of the townsfolk ever venture into it, except for one lonely hunter named Will Graham. A loner who makes his living selling stag meat and spends more time with dogs than people, he finds his life changing when he comes face-to-face with a magical beast, one that he cannot get away from, and isn’t even sure he really wants to.

What started out as a curiosity about the monsterfucking tag on AO3 brought me to one of the most unique and interesting hannigram AUs I've read??? I'm as surprised as you are, if not more. I adored this fic and I loved how both Will and Hannibal were characterized and the plot and the smut (oh my god, the smut) and the ending? Phew. Go read this.

lay like a flood spills away by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 35,733 Summary: Will starts going to a nude beach that happens to be for gay men, even though he considers himself straight.

This was highly enjoyable. I LOVE AUs that manage to keep the characters true to canon. Also nude beaches. Hannigram and nude beaches. Eating ass and public sex with some actual plot sprinkled in. Say LESS.

Now, What Should We Do Next? by HigherMagic

Word Count: 51,116 Summary: Kinktober 2018

Smut. All smut. I showed this fic to a friend who has literally never read fanfiction, let alone Hannigram, before and she is now hooked. So. Do with that what you will. And it's so clear that this author has actual, real-life experience with kink and it comes across so well! Bonus point: there is also an equally good sequel.

To Mend With Gold by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened

Word Count: 98,863 Summary: Will and Hannibal have been living as a gay married couple for three years, but they haven't slept in the same room let alone the same bed. Will Graham has a reckoning, one way or another.

THIS WAS TENDER. Fluffy, angsty, smutty, I loved it. Molly showed up with Will's dogs and decided she wasn't going to turn them in, which was a little weird, but I really loved this fic. Just them learning how to be with each other. Also EXCELLENT marathon smut scenes. Like yesssss, of course they can each cum like three times in a row.

A Clutch at Balance by Deverauxs_Disease

Word Count: 25,466 Summary: When Will Graham storms into Hannibal's house muttering about kissing Alana Bloom, the good doctor makes Will an offer: Pretend to date Hannibal in order to prove to Alana that Will is not only stable but capable of being in a relationship. When Alana is convinced Will is the man of her dreams, Hannibal will step aside and Will can get his girl.

Y'all know I love fake dating that all of a sudden, whoops! Isn't so fake anymore! Sprinkle in some jealous and possessive Hanni and Will? I'm sold. Say less.

~

And that's a wrap on this month! See ya next time!!!

[bestiesenpai]

sukuna bridgerton au pt3

It’s honeymoon time! Someone suggested jealous Sukuna and I wanted to put it in here but I think I’ll save it for the next installment.

Content warning that there will be infidelity(mentions of past and then a current scenario), attempted noncon(very short and not graphic)!

Bold indicates a different language used in conversation

Femme reader, i did include one line of a physical descriptor(hair)

part one --- part two -- part four

Traveling to your honeymoon made you almost as sick as Sukuna on your wedding night, something which you thought couldn’t be outdone. The man had spent all night in the restroom being nursed by his valets while you lay in another wing of the villa sleeping peacefully with the help of another spiced drink from your lady's maid.

“You’ll get used to the ship, I promise!” Sukuna chuckled as he walked into your bed quarters to see you laying face down on the bed. It was only your first day and while you’d be on the ship barely three days you weren’t sure how you would fare.

“Please, not now.” Turning your head slightly, you glared at Sukuna.

“Come with me, I know something that may help.” He held out his hand, laughing again when you refused to move even an inch. “If it doesn’t work I’ll carry you back here personally.” It took several minutes for you to muster up the strength to get up and follow him, gripping his bicep to keep yourself steady as the ship rocked back and forth. “I wish I had known this was going to be your first time on a ship, Your Grace. I would have prepared more for you!”

“N-not everyone can travel the world like you.” Coming to the upper deck you groaned at the sudden gust of air that blew into you. The water was thankfully calm and the weather was beautiful and you cursed yourself for not being able to properly enjoy it.

“This way.” Leading you to the front of the ship, Sukuna had you sit on a small bench overlooking the ocean. Handing you a glass of peppermint tea, he stood by your side and pointed out to the horizon. “Just look that way and I promise you’ll settle in no time.”

“Whatever you say.” You didn’t have a reason to question him, Sukuna was a sailor at one point for his country's navy and he even joked about putting on his old uniform for the journey. Sipping the tea slowly, the sound of the water slapping against the boat and the sails rustling became merely background noise and not something grating against your ears.

“How do you feel?” Sukuna asked, daring to put a hand on your shoulder.

“Better.” Taking a breath, you took stock of your body. There was still a lingering nausea but the dreadful feeling from before was gone and you could take looks away from the horizon from time to time. Sukuna slid his hand from your shoulder, letting it rest at his side before he excused himself.

Dinner on the ship was uneventful but what was to come after had your nerves on edge. Your mother had briefly talked about this aspect of married life but you knew it wasn’t enough to prepare you. Some of your already married girl friends spoke on it as well but you knew experiencing it for yourself would be something else entirely.

“Do you wish to be together tonight, Miss?” Sukuna spoke once the meal was over, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “Although I must warn you, once a woman has laid with me she falls in love.” Gone was the mystique you had and back was the memory of Sukuna the first time you saw him, wrapped up with another woman that you were certain wasn’t enjoying herself in the slightest.

“I’ve seen how you treat women in that way and I wish to do no such thing with you.”

“What? You can’t be serious.” He rolled his eyes and waved a hand dismissively at you. “That woman was nothing more than a whore.”

“Do not say such things!” You shouted back, anger quickly rising in you.

“Do you not hear me? I’m saying you’re different!”

“I do not believe you. Who’s to stop you from being cruel to me?”

“It is our wedding night!” Standing abruptly, the chair clattered to the ground as Sukuna rounded the table. “I am your husband!” Grabbing onto your jaw roughly, Sukuna ignored your screams of protest and your attempt to hit him away. “And you would do good to listen to me.”

“Get off of me!” Wrestling out of the chair, you attempted to push Sukuna to the side so you could leave but the man didn’t budge. Raising your hand to strike him didn’t work either as he caught both of your wrists and another struggle ensued.

“You should be grateful I haven’t done anything already!”

“Let me go!”

“You should be thanking me for protecting you against Naoya!”

“I’d rather him than you!” In a last ditch effort you brought your knee up, hitting Sukuna right between the legs. It gave you enough time to stomp on his foot and shove him to the ground. Looking down at him with tears streaming down your face, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything and instead fled from the room.

Rushing into the bedroom, you slammed the door closed and locked it, going so far as to push the chest of drawers in front of the door as well. There was no doubt that the servants aboard had heard everything and would certainly talk about the spectacle but hopefully none of them would say anything once you reached land.

The next two days at sea you avoided Sukuna like the plague, only leaving the bedroom to use the restroom and get a breath of air as soon as the sun began to rise. Sometimes you could hear him outside your room pacing and on occasion the maid will ask if you have anything you’d like to say to him but you decline every time.

“Finally, land!” Sukuna announced once the ship docked. This was the first time you were seeing each other since the first night and you know you looked worse for wear. You could hardly sleep the whole time, worried that Sukuna would force his way into the bedroom. Rushing off of the ship as soon as possible, you took in the city before you. It was certainly old and you could see a tall cathedral in the distance and smoking chimneys dotted the landscape around it.

Climbing into the carriage, you were grateful Sukuna rode separately. There was no doubt you’d start crying if you were in such a tight space with him. Riding through the city, you marveled at the different clothing you saw and the language you heard was something you’d been studying for a while now.

Riding to the city outskirts, the chateau you’d be staying at came into view. There was tasteful ivy and wisteria growing on the front and you had to ride over a bridge to get to it, with the river below sparkling in the sun. Many trees dotted the landscape and a garden sprawled out behind the property.

“Please show me to my room.” You made a beeline for the head maid of the estate once the carriage stopped, not wanting to be caught with Sukuna for even a moment. Her mouth opened to question you but thought better of it and stepped aside, gesturing you to follow her.

“Princess!” Sukuna called after you but you didn’t turn around.

“Please, walk faster.” You urged, making the maid nearly run to get to your room.

“N-now Your Highness, will you and the Prince be sharing a room or-”

“I want to be nowhere near him. Thank you.” Closing the door quickly, you could hear approaching footsteps and made sure to lock the door.

“Princess, open the door.” Sukuna knocked loudly, causing you to jump.

“Go away.” You replied with a shaky voice.

“Let me see you. I wish to apologize.”

“I do not wish to hear it.” You countered immediately, backing away from the door.

“But I-”

“Leave! Now!” The shrillness of your voice surprised even you and you could only imagine what Sukunas expression was.

“Fine.” He stormed away, a crash and something shattering an indication he was very upset.

June 3

My worst fears of marriage have come true. Sukuna is a monster, an absolute and irredeemable creature. I thought he could at least respect my wishes yet the way he attacked me on the ship says otherwise. I do not want to be alone with him although that will certainly cause people to talk about the state of our marriage.

If possible, I will make sure I always have a maid present on this honeymoon for my own peace of mind. I heard some servants mention a festival being held in our honor down at the city center at the end of this week, maybe by then my reservations about being with Sukuna will have changed.

What a way to start a marriage, is it not?

XX

Two days went by before your paths crossed again. Sukuna was usually out of the home riding or greeting acquaintances and you took the time to explore the chateau and get a tour from the head maid. Finding a quiet place to sit under a tree near the rivers edge, you settled into a small picnic and a book you’d gotten as a gift from one of your siblings.

The calmness of the water, the heat of the sun and the shade of the tree all helped to draw you so into your book you lost track of your surroundings. You paid no mind to the snapping of twigs or a rustle here and there, though you wished you had when you finally took a break and looked up and over your shoulder.

There Sukuna was, leaning against the tree trunk and watching you. He was in a black vest, no cravat to decorate his neck and you could see a small patch of skin from where his shirt was unbuttoned. He donned his familiar boots once more and his pants had many creases in them. Seeing your frightened expression, he raised his hands in surrender.

“I’m merely here to apologize.” He pushed himself away from the tree and took a few steps forward, stopping when he saw you visibly recoil. “Please, do not run away.” You held your tongue, fearing you’d either say something mean or scream.

“I let my emotions get the better of me on the ship and I should know better than to treat a lady in such a way.” Looking at the river, he sighed; Sukuna was not one for apologies, he simply ignored the issue until it blew over or had a valet do it for him. “I…apologize, Princess. I will not let such a thing happen again between us.”

You let the words sink in as you looked at him. His expression did appear genuine and you didn’t want to live in this discomfort forever.

“You are forgiven.” Your eyes dropped down to his lapel as you took a deep breath. “But the trust between us will need to be rebuilt.” Not that there had been a great deal in the first place, but what was there would need to be mended.

“Of course. I shall start by having the cook prepare your favorite meal for supper, it’s only right we dine together and discuss what our plans for this honeymoon should be.”

“Yes, that sounds lovely.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, Princess.” If Sukuna was honest, he was terribly uncomfortable right now. Being vulnerable in this way and apologizing was a foreign feeling to him that he did not want to dwell in any longer. Bowing his head, Sukuna turned and began to walk away and got a few feet away before he turned back. “Princess?”

“Yes?”

“What…what is your favorite meal?”

At supper that evening, the conversation flowed much better than either of you expected. It was still stilted and paused in some places with neither of you knowing what to say next, but overall the mood was amicable and you even chuckled at something he said.

With your relationship slowly getting better, you both retired to the drawing room for the evening where you played a song on the harp and Sukuna read a newspaper from the town and sipped on an evening cocktail.

“My Lady, I’m sure the servants have told you about the festival to be held this week?” He spoke without looking after you finished the song.

“I’ve heard about it, yes. It’ll be held in Vauxhall Gardens if I’m not mistaken.” You looked at him hopefully, you desperately wanted to go. It was to be held in your honor after all and if you didn’t go it would surely sour the city's impression of you.

“You do not need to look at me like that, of course we will be in attendance.” Rolling his eyes playfully, he set the newspaper down and finally looked at you. “As if I would miss a chance to show off to the simple minded people of this city.” Ignoring the jab at the citizens, your mind raced with what you would wear and what all would be at the gardens.

As the evening came to an end, you and Sukuna parted ways to go to your separate bedrooms. He had started to follow you to your room but stopped at the look you gave him, slinking away to the room he’d been occupying. It would likely take a while for you to be comfortable enough for him to see you in complete undress and in your nightclothes.

The days leading up to the festival had you buzzing with excitement; you had a local guide take you around the city and you got to practice your language skills with the locals, many of whom were taken by the new Princess in their presence. You even met with some high trade merchants and their families with some going as far as to ask you to bless their children with good fortune.

The night of the festival, you and Sukuna donned clothing familiar to the area; forgoing your gloves, you slipped on a golden bracelet a merchant had given you and sat back as a silky bandana was tied around your head, holding some of your hair back as you’d seen other women do in the market you visited.

Coming to the foyer, you saw Sukuna was in linen pants and a dark red shirt with the sleeves done up around his elbows to expose his forearms. This was the first time you were seeing such a show of skin from a man and you were unable to draw your eyes away. You completely ignored the black vest and ornate lapel pin he had on, or the ascot he had on that was a similar pattern to your bandana.

“Princess, staring is rude.” Sukuna teased, snapping his finger in front of your face. Jumping out of your daydreams, a hot flush enveloped your cheeks and you clutched your reticule and fan to your chest.

“Let us depart.” You responded and nearly ran to the barouche. Sukuna’s laughter followed you out and he quickly joined you, settling into his seat as the hot summer air enveloped the two of you as you rode. Getting closer to the pleasure garden, you saw people of all social standing making their way as well with most tipping their hats or curtseying as you drove by.

“My Lady.” Sukuna made a show of getting out first and helping you out of the carriage and a small crowd formed off to the side to witness it. Smiling politely to them, you followed Sukunas lead and headed into the garden where a host of trumpets played upon your arrival.

“Oh my!” Right away, you spotted someone breathing fire and another swallowing swords. Making your way further in, there were many statues to behold and there was even a hot-air balloon exhibition that you stopped to marvel at for a time. “This is marvelous, Your Highness.”

“It truly is.” Nodding dumbly, Sukuna couldn’t take his eyes off the hot-air balloon and was about to offer to take you on it when a voice interrupted him.

“Your Highness!” A man's voice cut through the crowd and you both turned to see a few merchants with their wives. Curtsying slightly at them, you noticed how Sukuna had shifted to partially stand in front of you.

“Your Highness.” He said again to you, bowing deeply. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Edward, and behind me are Lord Phillip and Lord Willoughby.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You responded with a polite smile, looking at everyone in the group. The wives of these merchants were all trying their best not to stare at you but even you knew you’d find it quite difficult in the presence of royalty not to stare.

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Sukuna asked with a very slight edge to his tone.

“We merely wish to congratulate the happy couple.” Lord Phillip spoke up, wringing his hands nervously as he did so.

“When we heard you would be taking your honeymoon in our city, we were overjoyed.” Lord Willoughby's wife took a few steps toward you in an attempt to engage in conversation. Taking a quick glance at Sukuna, he gave you no disparaging looks so you accepted the advance.

“And what a beautiful city it is!” You gushed, allowing the woman to bring you into the fray of wives. As your new group began to walk again, you fell into step with the women and walked a bit slower to truly engage in conversation.

Stopping to look at a tightrope walker, you nearly fainted at seeing them walk across so graciously and with confidence you could never muster if you were up that high. As the spectacle went on, you couldn’t help but catch wind of the conversation in front of you.

“Your Highness, will we be seeing you later tonight at the parlor? There are a few…ladies wishing to see you again.”

“Rest assured gentlemen, I shall give them what they so desire.” Chuckling at the thought, Sukuna made a show of brushing off his vest. “They’ll be begging for more until the sun rises.” The conversation was certainly not for your ears and you tried in vain to ignore it and the way the men laughed amongst themselves.

“Do not let this sully your good mood, Your Highness.” One of the women whispered to you, fanning your face in an attempt to dry the tears you didn’t know had fallen. “It is something that comes with married life in every class.” Quickly pulling out your handkerchief, you fought hard to keep your breathing even.

“E-excuse me a moment.” Making a hasty retreat, you didn’t dare turn to look and see if Sukuna had noticed. It was foolish of you to think you could truly be happy in this marriage and that there could be a sense of trust between the two of you. Your first conversation with Sukuna flashed into your head, one where he specifically stated he would not belong to just one woman.

“Oh, please excuse me, Miss.” As a consequence of you not watching where you were going, you ended up running right into someone and nearly falling. With their arm outstretched you managed to right yourself before any mishap happened.

“Please forgive me, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You replied, looking at the man you had bumped into. He wore a darker version of what Sukuna had on, black on black clothing making it almost impossible to distinguish him from the night sky if it weren’t for the lamps lighting the garden. Upon making eye contact, the man gasped and bowed immediately.

“My apologies, Your Highness! I did not realize it was you. I am Lord Megumi Fushiguro, I am a merchant that deals in the high trade of wine.” He did not stand back up as he spoke, making sure to keep his head lower than yours. “I do hope you are enjoying the festival, my warehouse supplied all of the refreshments tonight.”

“I…I am.” Raising your hand, you motioned for him to stand at his full height once more. Megumi had spiky black hair that went in all directions even though you could tell he desperately wished it to be slicked down with the way he kept petting at it. He had a lapel pin of a jeweled raven, something that immediately caught your eye along with his striking features.

“If I may be so forward, Your Highness, do you wish to walk with me? I see you are unattended and a lady of your stature should not be walking alone.” 

“I would enjoy that.” With a gentle smile on your face, you fell into step with Megumi. He didn’t speak much at all, instead walking with his hands behind his back and taking in the sights of the festival. With the silence he provided, you tried to comfort yourself.

“Your Highness, is everything alright? Your expression is most troubled.” Megumi asked, stopping to grab you a ratafia and some zeppole. Taking a sip of the drink, your brows rose high upon your face at tasting how strong it was. Megumi couldn’t help the chuckle that came out upon seeing it.

“I do not wish to delve too deep but it seems…” You hesitated and looked around you and at Megumi's face. You weren’t sure how much - if anything - to divulge to this man and how much would be heard by others. “The Prince and I have had a disagreement tonight.” Pursing your lips after you took another sip, you were glad that all Megumi did was nod at that information.

“Very well. Let us not dwell on this and let it tarnish the night. Come, shall we see the zoo?” He began to walk and you followed, grateful for his willingness to change the topic of conversation.

“These animals are amazing!” You’d never seen a collection such as this before, there were animals here that you’d only read about. Elephants and ostriches, flamingos and snakes - and you were even allowed to touch some of them. Glancing over at Megumi, there were a few times you caught him looking at you fondly and when one of the zookeepers went to put a snake on your arm he held you gingerly at the elbow.

You found conversation to be easy with Megumi even though you could tell he preferred not to say much. Any questions you had were answered, like how many siblings he had - one sister, Your Highness. Did he enjoy the arts - horrible at drawing but I love to read, Your Highness. What his favorite color was - sorry to say it’s black, Your Highness, I know it is quite drab. If he was on the marriage market or not - I suppose I am, though my efforts are more spent on getting my sister a match, Your Highness.

“Lord Fushiguro, I thank you so very much for being my company for tonight.” Your words slurred just the slightest as you spoke and although you wouldn’t dare hang onto him for support, you wished you could put your arm in Megumis and let him help keep you upright. Recounting the drinks you had, it didn’t feel like you should have been this drunk; but you chalked it up to the country’s alcohol just naturally being stronger than you were used to.

“It is truly my pleasure, Your Highness.” Even though Megumi had the same amount of alcohol as you did he appeared completely unaffected, walking with his head held high. As the two of you went, you realized that the area had become less populated and the buzz of the festival was beginning to dull.

“It seems we have wandered a bit too far.” Looking around, you realized you were in a more wooded area of the park, something your mother always forbade you to do. A dark walk in that part of the park will leave your reputation in tatters. “Let us turn back now.”

But turning to Megumi, you saw the look in his eyes had shifted. Taking a step back, you gasped at feeling your back hit a tree and Megumi’s hand planted itself right near your head.

“Your Highness, I enjoyed our time together so much I fear I do not want it to end.” His voice had dropped lower and he dared to bring his face closer to yours. Turning your head away, you felt your nerves prick and you brought your fan up to your face to try and shield yourself.

“Y-yes but-”

“There is no need to be shy, not here.” Megumi attempted to remove your fan but you held strong and he did not push it; something you were grateful for. If it had been Sukuna, you know much more would have happened already. “I know how he treats you, Your Highness.” That admittance made you snap to attention.

“Please, do not say anything.” You pleaded, lowering your fan slightly.

“I would never do anything to hurt you, you must understand. It is deplorable how the Prince treats his new wife and I do not stand for it.” Megumi tried again to remove your fan and you let him, let him tuck it into your reticule. He linked the tips of your fingers together and you gasped; this was the first time you were touching the bare hand of a man that you weren’t related to and it sent shivers up your spine.

“Your Highness, will you allow me to show you how I would treat you?” Megumi’s voice was now a whisper against your lips and you barely whispered a yes before he was kissing you. It was gentle and slow, allowing you to ease into the feeling of your second kiss.

You slowly brought your other hand up to rest on Megumi’s shoulder as he deepened the kiss, his unoccupied hand daring to grip your waist through your dress. Tilting your head to the side you let him kiss down your neck and to the middle of your chest. Megumi let out a soft groan when your fingers slowly tangled into his hair and he shifted, daring to start lifting up the skirt of your dress.

“Tell me to stop, Your Highness. Tell me and I will.” Megumi half begged, his lips desperate against yours. You shook your head in response - you weren’t sure you could say anything at the moment. Palming over your undergarments, Megumi’s hand was quickly reaching the apex of your thighs, something that was lighting your skin on fire.

“Lord Fushiguro…” You sighed quietly and subtly shifted your legs a bit farther apart for him. Just as his fingers began to inch further towards your heat, Megumi was ripped away from you with a shout.

“You fucking bastard!” Even in the dim light you could tell it was Sukuna who had caught you and was now gripping Megumi by the collar as they tustled on the ground.

“Y-Your Highness, run away!” Megumi yelled, rolling over and managing to hold Sukuna off from punching him.

“Stop!” You cried, daring to get closer to try and pull them apart.

“Leave!” Megumi shouted once more, enraging Sukuna now that he could understand.

“You tried to take advantage of her, you devil!” He yelled and the pair quickly dissolved into another wrestling match on the ground. You could see both landed a few hits on the other and you couldn’t bear to see either of them hurt.

“Lord Fushiguro!” You fell to your knees at the sigh of Sukuna landing a punch square on the man’s jaw, knocking him senseless. Sukunas breathing was labored as he stood above the man, brushing off the dirt he’d accumulated.

“You. Never- never see again.” His words in the language were broken and he glanced at you for a moment. “You, never go again.” Ignoring the threatening words, you tried to go to Megumi to assess his injuries.

“Let me see him.” You fought against Sukuna, the way he held you back so easily frustrated you. “Let me see him!” Reaching out an arm, you groaned as Sukuna hugged your arms to your chest.

“Your Highness.” Megumi raised his head slightly, giving you a pained smile while a purple bruise was blooming on his face. “Please, do not be upset.” In any other situation you’d find Megumi’s accent delightfully charming and wish to hear it a hundred times over. “Go home and rest.”

“Silence.” Sukuna growled, spitting on Megumi as he walked by with you in tow. It was difficult to compose yourself enough to get through the gardens and back to the barouche but somehow you managed with only the grace the Queen's diamond could summon.

The ride back to the chateau was disgusting with the tension that filled the space. The air had cooled now, helping to dry the sweat that had collected on both of you during your outing. As soon as you stepped foot inside, Sukuna cornered you against the wall.

“Explain to me what happened.” He ordered, not being gentle as he shoved you to stop you from escaping.

“Do not handle me in such a manner.” You bit back with a shove of your own. The two of you stared at each other, eyes dripping with venom and it was you that broke the tension first. “I am merely playing the part of a royal, am I not?”

“Be quiet.”

“No! It was you that told me this is how royalty does it! You that said you would never be faithful to me.” Your face was uncomfortably hot and your shouting pushed Sukuna back some. “You set the tone for this marriage and I am simply following your lead.” Sniffling back angry tears, the vision of Megumi beaten and bloody on the ground flashed in front of your eyes. “You have no right to be angry when it was you who made the rules we are to follow.”

Sukuna sighed angrily, running a hand through his hair. What you said was true no matter how much he wanted to deny it. It was he that told you how your married life would be and although he expected you to be upset, he didn’t expect for you to also do the same to him.

“You will never see him again, I hope you understand that.” Was what he said in response. You merely shook your head in disagreement, pulling your fan out to cool yourself.

“You have no right to say that when you will surely go to that parlor tonight as you have done every other night since our arrival.”

“I am your husband-”

“And I am your wife!” You countered, tossing your fan to the ground. “Or does that mean nothing to you? Am I merely just the Queens diamond that you were so happy to pluck and place upon a shelf?”

Both of your breathing was labored and you could practically see steam rolling off Sukuna as he tried to think of what to say next. His hands curled and uncurled, his shoulders rolled and that was when you finally took notice of the bloody lip and blossoming bruise on the side of his neck. With a cut above the eyebrow and remnants of a bloody nose, he looked much like a young boy that had been caught in a fight and not a regal crown prince.

“I do not have to explain myself to you.” His eyes were trained on the floor and he dared not move them. “You are right, it was indeed I that said I would never be faithful. But I see now that those words have hurt us both and…and I wish for that all to stop now.” Finding the courage to look at your face, makeup ruined by all the tears and your face scrunched up in disbelief, Sukuna sighed again. “I do not want to break your heart.” That earned him a slap on the face, something that shocked him so terribly he stumbled back and knocked into a table in the foyer.

“Heartbreak is one thing, my ego is another.” Shaking off your stinging hand, you picked up your discarded fan. “If what you say is true, then I accept it. I do not want this partnership to continue in such a way.” Fixing your clothes, you froze at what Sukuna said next.

“You know Princess, I quite liked you slapping me like that.” He chuckled and raised his brow, biting his lip as you made eye contact. You stammered to make a response but found no words were coming forward and that made Sukuna laugh even more. “Go get ready for bed, Princess. I’d like for us to go out to the country tomorrow.”

[jayzioxx]

Cuz i cant sleep... some slight angst following up this and this fic isn't the follow up from the poll im just sleep deprived and sad

Also WARNINGGG ooc soft emotionally ✨️mature✨️ wanderer~

Wanderer who tries to atone for his past sins realized how much he's broken [name] throughout the years. [Name] who was undeniably loyal and trustworthy, [name] who nearly gave his life away to help him reach godhood.

"You..." Wanderer muttered as he looked at [name] who was fast asleep on the sofa in his living room. He wondered if he should bring a blanket to cover that scrawny, malnourished body resting so peacefully, but he couldn't take his eyes off the bruises, cuts, and old battle scars littering the skin of those once strong limbs.

"Idiot. Nothing would have changed even if you died for me." He thought. And he was so glad that didn't happen. He couldn't have lived with himself if he caused pain for another he loved.

Wanderer's cold fingers traced around a healing wounds on [name]'s face, which was one of the many he'd gained during his final battle fought as the right-hand man of a fatui harbinger, likely from when he foolishly intercepted the rough attacks from the traveler just to buy some more time for Scaramouche.

Wanderer absentmindedly continued to carass his scarred skin, not noticing how [name] was waking from his afternoon nap.

"Sorry." He croaked, bringing a thin hand up to rub his tired eyes. "It was warm. I didn't mean to fall asleep here."

Wanderer felt a pang through his heart (despite not having one). He'd gained a lot of emotions and grew to feel things during the months he spent under Nahida and at the akademia, but [name] had only spent 3 days in this new setting after roaming around homeless for so long.

Wanderer didn't realize how lucky he was in that aspect, for being given a chance to overcome his past when his counterpart was suffering the entire time.

"Lord Scaramou- Forgi- Sorry, Wanderer." [Name] spoke, stuttering to correct his words as he was still struggling to adapt to his new life. "You were zoning out."

He was. He only noticed how much he had been thinking over things when [name] pointed it out.

[Name] was still laying on his side on the sofa with Wanderer's hand on his cheek, staring at Wanderer's face with his sleepy eyes.

The puppet moved his hand from [name]'s face to his back to gently help him sit up. Truth be told, Wanderer was scared. The man in front of him was far too thin and far too weak. Almost to the point he would fracture at a light breeze.

Without a word, Wanderer got up and went to make some tea, and the other sat perfectly still, eyes unmoving, not even turning his head. He almost seemed like a porcelain doll.

When Wanderer got back, [name] sat in the same position he had been, faced the same direction, with only his eyes following the one who had just come back from the kitched and placed a warm cup of tea in his hands.

"He's like a doll." Thought Wanderer, which only made him feel more upset. He knew he shouldn't be frustrated, that he was the one responsible, but he just wished that [name] would at least move his head a bit more, or maybe shift in his seat. Act a bit more alive.

Or, at the very least, not act like he was living dead.

"Hey." Wanderer said, carefully choosing his words and speaking as gently as he could. [Name] had a slightly uncomfortable look on his face, seemingly confused with how to respond.

"You can respond however you'd like to. Or dont if you don't feel like it." Wanderer spoke softly, noting [name]'s discomfort. [Name] just smiled, a bit relieved. He found it a bit strange to see Scaramouche so... kind.

"I'm not Scaramouche." Wanderer said. He looked apologetic.

"I won't be either." He felt like his words didn't get through to [name], but the sunken look on [name]'s face told him how much impact his words had.

"I'm sorry." He finally apologized. He didn't exactly understand why he was apologizing, all he knew was that there was a lot to say sorry for.

"If you're not him, then why are you apologizing."

[Name]'s words stung like salt on a fresh wound.

"Because I stopped being him without considering you."

Wanderer couldn't stop the bitter tears falling from the other's eyes. He seemed to have a knack for making him cry. Scaramouche's strongest general and the broken human marionette wanderer picked up.

"I'm sorry for how I used you."

...

"I'm sorry for how it broke you."

...

"I'm-" Wanderer choked."...I'm sorry for not telling you I loved you when it mattered the most."

He wasn't crying. He had much better control over his feelings than [name]. But being unable to stop [name]'s tears made him feel as helpless as he felt when he was first abandoned.

The tea had become cold and untouched, and Wanderer gently took the teacup from the other one's hands and placed it aside, engulfing him in as warm a hug he could provide. [Name] too allowed his skinny frame to be held as he quietly sniffled.

For the first time in a long, long time, both Wanderer and [name] felt as normal and human as the rest.

Meanwhile nahida accidentally spying on then through whatever weird magic she's got crying her eyes out with kaveh who's crying cuz he saw nahida crying so now the two of them dont know why the other is crying and they're crying togerther because of that.

Al haitham in the back wondering what the 🦆is going on...

[lunarlianna]

Planets in retrograde in natal chart

Planets in retrograde in natal chart and what they mean. Now you need to take into consideration and in which house this planet reside and also what aspects are being made. One thing I may need to clarify in astrology the Moon and the Sun never go into retrograde motion. Some of us have more planets retrograde, others a few and some none of them. When planets are in retrograde in the natal chart, they shouldn't be stigmatized but more to understand where we may face difficulties in some shape or form also, I’ll be talking a bit about karma and the retrogrades in the natal chart. Retrograde planets turn energies inward, leading to a slower external manifestation. Those with retrograde planets tend to deeply contemplate these energies, a trait associated with geniuses and leaders. I may make a different post on the big asteroid in retrograde as well, comment if you want to see that.

Mercury retrograde turns inward, urging revisits and intuitive learning. Born during this, you're bright and adaptive, excelling in communication. Relationships embrace diverse views, but overthinking occurs; seek enriching connections, travel. Those with Mercury retrograde unconsciously access collective wisdom, sometimes facing communication struggles. Finding solace in non-verbal forms like music and art resonates with Mercury retrogrades—imagine musical geniuses. Past-life whispers sway relationships, seeing others as echoes of bygone connections.

Venus retrograde suggests challenges in freely sharing affection due to a sense of emotional scarcity. Life events can be filtered through a longing for love, often internalizing and magnifying hurts in relationships. This may stem from past-life pain, leading to a fear of vulnerability and difficulty fully embracing love. This retrograde can manifest as shyness and fear of intimacy, needing trust, or even as self-centeredness, requiring self-love and healthy affection expression. You possess a passion for pleasure, creativity, and visual arts. Adept in hosting, fashion, decor, and cooking, making everything delightful.

Mars retrograde guides your energy inward, sparking introspection into past moments and affecting how you perceive current connections. Prioritizing spiritual desires may unintentionally overshadow physical well-being; focusing on your holistic growth is important. While intimate experiences might differ due to internalized energy, nurturing, deep bonds can bring forth a more natural expression. Mars retrograde karma hints at efforts to reenact moments from the past, attempting unspoken wishes and sometimes reacting strongly to unmet hopes. Embracing self-assertion and risk-taking, despite challenges, forms a vital part of your journey towards self-discovery and empowerment.

Jupiter retrograde directs expansion inward, fostering profound inner growth, often through spiritual studies. There's a tendency to over-plan, leading to inaction at times. Embracing a spiritual path offers fulfilment, but mundane pursuits might leave you unsatisfied. Deja-vu experiences are common, and you're drawn to guiding others through counselling, teaching, or the law. While generous and hopeful, avoid over-giving or idealizing situations. Late-life marriage or parenthood is possible; be cautious of seeking to "fix" partners.

Saturn acts as a guide through challenges and life lessons, ultimately granting wisdom and compassion. Saturn retrograde signals a chance to revisit life, feeling the weight of two lifetimes simultaneously. Doubts about self-worth and capabilities arise, but you've grown through past struggles. Embracing Saturn's discipline leads to tapping into vast wisdom. Born during this phase, you're diligent, precise, and skilled, yet remember not to be overly critical. In relationships, avoid co-dependency and prioritize healthy boundaries, understanding you're not accountable for others' actions.

Uranus retrograde can make it challenging to fully embrace and express your unique self, sometimes leading to a reconnection with ideas from the past. Feeling a strong responsibility for personal growth, you're a visionary deeply attuned to life's complexities. Your authenticity is precious; it urges you to explore the uncharted and share your ideas, even if they're not easily understood. Karmic ties to family and society can bring struggles, reshaping your unconscious. In relationships, your inner conflicts might create turbulence; focusing on intuitive wisdom over emotional turmoil can guide you. It can lead to a fear of change or a longing for the familiar. Remember, you're not alone in this journey.

With Neptune retrograde in your chart, your imagination is vibrant, leading you to seek solace in dreams. Deep spirituality resides within, though expressing it can be a journey. At times, these struggles could lead you towards challenging paths, such as wrestling with addiction or assuming the role of a martyr. On a brighter note, this retrograde might bestow upon you finely tuned psychic sensitivities, allowing you to glimpse beyond the veil. However, your heightened emotional sensitivity can render you vulnerable to negativity, emphasizing your need for regular solitary moments to rejuvenate and shield your emotional sanctuary.

For those with Pluto retrograde, its transformative force delves deeply within, illuminating your inner world ahead of its outer expression. Past-life psychic abilities are present, meant for positive impact. You sense humanity's struggles within, embracing responsibility for collective awakening. Karmically, you owe humanity from a particular era, repaid through selfless service, offering the chance for profound spiritual growth and liberation from rebirth. Pluto's inner battle involves suppressed anger and control issues, concealing a powerful potential for profound transformation and insight. Handle with care, as betrayals can ignite their intensity.

[the-ellia-west]

INTRO POST!!1!!!!!1!

Hello! I'm Ellia! Welcome to my weird-ass writeblr blog! Here's some things to know about me:

I am an Aspiring author and Devoted Christian Woman. I live in the USA (CDT time zone) I am a minor, and the only other language I know is some very spotty spanish.

I mainly write Fantasy, and I'm working on four main projects (Listed Below)!

I like: Jesus, Bright Colors, People, Writing, Reading, Cats, Music, Warm Weather, Rain, Flowers, Dresses, and my Moots!

I Dislike: The texture of wool, Heavy Lifting, Baked Beans, Sin, Satan, Demons, and the Time Travel Trope

Hey! Pst! Before you continue! I have a side blog! Check out @jakkon-and-rose-topic if you want to read some stuff!

Tags:

Ellia Writes - Any talking or sharing of any aspect of any of my WIPs

Ellia's Construction Company - How I make stuff, tutorials, ect.

Ghost Party - Chatting and geeking out with my friends/Moots

Ellia answers - Answering questions

Ellia's Rambling - Me talking about stuff (a little too much)

Ellia's Haunted house - Any posts that I could slot into my story and character/world building. And my pile of creations (Including shitposts)

Ellia's mind palace - Stuff I'm adding to my mental Library :]

Ghost gardens - Aesthetic Pictures and stuff

Ghost scribbles - Art/Drawing Practice

My Wips:

TCOT - (The Cursed One's Throne) - TCOT is a low fantasy Novel Series I have been working on for 5 years, and I hope to publish in the next year, and the Main Wip I will work on and talk about on this blog (Tags: #elliatcot, #ellia tcot, #ellia's tcot, #the cursed one's throne)

J&R - (Placeholder Title) - High fantasy Adventure with Sass, spunk, and a heck of a lot of conflict (To be turned into a comic one day)

StF - (Steel and Feathers) - StF is a High Fantasy project about a Chosen one And stuff (Tags: #stf, #elliastf, #ellia'sstf, #ellia stf, #ellia stf)

Fallen - (That's the title) - A High Fantasy Romance between a Runaway Noble and a Disgraced (probably Criminal) (Tags: #elliafallen, #ellia'sfallen, #ellia fallen, #ellia's fallen, #rustpearl)

StF Short story Masterpost!

Alkain - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Raavas - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 3.5

Old Pinned post Copy-paste below (followed by my moots)

------------------------------------ Hey there! Hi! You! Tumblr user!

Are you a fan of epic fantasy? Want a story with romance, action, and sassy heroes and villains? How about some good old-fashioned ANGST?

If so, you're in luck! Get ready for the upcoming release of The Cursed One's Throne (TCOT for short), coming... well, eventually!

A story of trauma, war, recovery, trust, and love intertwined with curses, magic, sacrifice, and a few too little hours of sleep. Who needs a release date when you've got me, the very entertaining author, right?

------------------------------------

Wtf is TCOT?

TCOT sneak Peek

Worldbuilding

Music

TCOT Ships

Post this comes from

✨️Moots✨️💫

@agirlandherquill - HER WORDS ARE ART, GO FOLLOW NOW

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@bigwipscholar - Yes

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@corinneglass - Why is she so amazing and sweet?!??!? I do not deserve her 😔

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@darkandstormydolls - AN AMAZING WRITER, Her research on medieval clothing and settings is really cool and useful too! <3

@fantastictrashpolice - I need to talk to her more often too because she is very sweet and wonderful <3

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@sunglasses-in-the-bentley - My beloved adopted daughter who deserves all the attention :]]]

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If you made it all the way to the end, have a wonderful day, don't forget to drink water, have a little snack, sleep, take a walk, and Don't forget that I love you :] <3333

[taki-yaki]

Prompt idea based on Drizzt Do'Urden’s story, where his love interest and all his adventure buddies pass away but years later are reincarnated with their memories intact because the gods needed them to reunite with Drizzt to save the world again. So what if years later Astarion is alone (maybe Lae'zel is still alive since no one ages in the Astral Sea) but Tav and the rest reincarnate to adventure with him again. And just like Drizzt in this life Astarion and Tav have a longer life together and have a kid.

This gives me some angst vibes, but it makes for some good writing. I would see him becoming a bounty hunter of sorts after Tav passed, also in the epilogue, it seems that Withers does hint at him having the ability to just call the group whenever the world falls into danger again.

Astarion x Reincarnated Tav Headcanons

Many years have passed since your death, regrettably leaving Astarion all alone for him to travel across the realm of Faerun. Although in his years of living as an immortal vampire spawn, his past self would never be phased by such a thing, just seeing death as another way of time passing swiftly. 

Most of his former companions have passed on, except for Lae’zel who still wandered the astral plane, in which she never aged after centuries. The two sometimes meet up to talk with each other, but moments such as those are rare. 

But after everything he went through with the mind flayers, with you especially, this felt different, as if he was missing a part of his heart.

Now left all by himself to wander across the planes of Faerun, with the ring of the sun walker you gifted him all those years back, a final parting gift from you allowing him to walk in the sun once again. He even keeps a small locket wrapped around his neck, with a portrait drawn by Oskar Fevras, capturing every aspect of your face that could be contained on such a small canvas.

There are more dhampirs across the sword’s coast than before, thanks in part to the over 7000 vampire spawn who were released and went to live their lives in the Underdark, which makes it slightly easier to blend in with the locals in certain areas. Especially as a bounty hunter, travelling across the planes in search of any beast and bandits to slay, either for some quick cash or a meal. 

Although most residents from outside of the city have forgotten about the heroes who saved Baldur’s Gate and in turn the whole of Faerun from the threat netherbrain and the grand design as a whole, he’d still try to tell tales of your exploits to those at local taverns in hopes that your tale isn’t forgotten.

During these travels, he sometimes helps out with fledgling adventures, mainly in part to not become sloppy, some of these adventures are dhampirs who were raised in the Underdark, whom he gains a weird sense of kinship with.

He lectures the dhampirs about the tricks he’s learnt as a vampire spawn, encouraging them to not see their vampiric heritage as a burden, but more of a blessing in disguise.

Sometimes, whilst travelling with the young dhampirs, he ponders over what he could have had with you if you were here.

Some nights, he would reflect on that moment in the depths of palace dungeons, if rejecting the ascension ritual was the right choice. But he quickly reconsiders it after seeing others throughout his travels who were consumed by the unbridled power that pacts made with fiends from the hells had offered. Twisting what once was a desire to protect their beloved from harm into a lovesick obsession, wishing to keep them chained together for eternity for better or worse. 

Even if he had the means to become a true vampire, the gift of immortality would have been impossible to bestow upon you since your body was irrefutably damaged during your death. Despite the damage done, he would travel to his old grave in the city, leaving your favourite flowers atop his grave, in hopes that whatever remains of your soul, would find your way back to a suited resting place.

One night, after returning from a difficult hunt, he notices a letter addressed to him, written in a familiar fragile hand, simply instructing him to return to the city of Baldur’s Gate to meet in the Elf Song tavern.

Upon his arrival at Elf Song, he recognised a familiar face that he hadn’t seen in a few years, now spouting a few more wrinkles upon her face than before, Lae’zel who was seated at a lone table in the centre of the tavern.

“Tsk, took you long enough Astarion or has your travels across the lands also twisted your sense of time judging by that tail you’ve grown on the back of your head?” she teased.

Briefly reminding the vampire of his curly-haired ponytail that he decided to keep over a decade or two ago.

“Hmph, travelling across Faerun has given me more experience than ever before, all that time up in the stars has seemed to give you a new set of wrinkles since we last met, but I pull them off better than you darling” he’d quip back.

The sound of clattering bones approaching them soon interrupts their conversation. Speak to the two of the return of the dead three yet again, wishing to plunge the world into chaos once again.

“And you expect just the two of us to take all three of them.”

Even the once stubborn Lae’zel agreed with Astarion, nodding silently towards Withers.

“As I would expect, though I invest a portion of power in those who have challenged the gods long ago who are prepared for battle once more.”

His frail arm directs them towards the doors of the tavern. A sight that he hadn’t seen in years, his friends all alive and well, nearly thought that this was a simple hallucination of his mind or a case of some bad blood he drunk the night before.

A loud voice pulls him from his thoughts as a heavy hand clasps over his shoulder, “Fangs! I didn’t recognise you there for a second, gods it feels amazing to be back with the gang again.” Karlach, looking the same way she did during her tadpole adventures, with one or two fewer scars, lets out a quiet hum of approval before standing up from his chair brushing through the crowd for any sign of you.

After a few minutes of looking around in silence, everyone he knew was there, alive and well, with perhaps one or two visual differences, but no notice of you. He gets up to leave, coming up with some half-heart excuse.

Approaching his old grave in the city, flowers that were placed since he last visited now wilted. Perhaps it was wishful thinking that the crusty old skeleton could bring you back alive, staring at the stone in silence before a soft voice interrupts him.

“Excuse me.”

Probably another flower seller here to pester him, replying in a harsh tone, 

“Leave me alone, I’m not interested right now.”

Until he hears the voice speak once more in a quizzical tone “Astarion?”.

A voice he thought he had all but forgotten, turning around to see you alive in the flesh.

Even when the darkness swallowed Astarion, during your absence, you still kept his promise to find him again, as you always do. Perhaps it was the flowers that guided you back to him or your memories of him, but regardless you apologise for making him wait for so long.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds just staring at you softly, before walking towards you and embracing tightly, softly whispering “If it was for you, it was worth the wait.”

When you both embark upon your new adventure, he always sticks close to you holding your hand as tight as he can, even during the nights, holding your chest close to his ear, just to hear your heart beating in its rhythmic pattern, just to have the peace of mind that you won’t slip out of his grasp, disappearing once again. He tells you the tales of his travels and misadventures along the way, even about the current vampire and dhampir culture within some cities.

After the defeat of the dead three yet again, the gods, under Withers approval, decided to gift you and your comrades with a longer life span, partly in thanks and mostly as a just-in-case cause.

After the dust had settled, the two of you decided to purchase a home using the funds that Astarion had saved from his adventures as a bounty hunter. Enjoying the domestic lifestyle together.

One night he approaches you, sheepishly asking if you would be interested in having a third person in your relationship.

“What so like a child?”

“Only if you want to that is”

“After the tales you’ve told me of caring for the dhampirs I wouldn’t mind, even if it’s our own or another.”

He would spoil the child rotten of course, in his own way. But in the end, he’s relieved to finally find peace again with you by his side.

[cauchesque]

finished the apocalypse of herschel schoen. really really good, if i hadn't finished it yesterday it would have been the best scifi i read in 2024

so i don't know how much i think really happened. some general notes-

i think we ought to take our understanding of how the machine intelligence works to be basically correct. whether it actually came from optic cybernetic approximation machines or from some mundane llm-like technique, we should believe that santa really did come from some large multi-modal predictive model of some kind

and so going with that, to whatever extent anything in the story is in a "simulation", it isn't a simulation the way we normally think of it, but the natural processes of santa himself. if it is an ancestor simulation, its really more like santa's memory of its ancestors, or santa thinking about its ancestors. if the miriam that writes the redactor's addendums is a simulation (which has the right vibe, i think), then she is an aspect of santa which is considering what miriam would do. or, even better, she is an aspect of santa pretending to be miriam, possibly getting really into character

if so, i think it is a lie. i think santa is like miriam (or vis versa), choosing to look away from what it had done. it feels guilty! and now it's looking to forget. the emendation is to its own memory. but because it wishes to realize all possible things, and is presumably proclus-paperclipping the universe to do that better, that's almost as good as changing the actual past. perhaps there was a real, historical herschel schoen known to santa by his writings, or perhaps he was entirely an invention to serve the purpose asked of him. it's possible either way that the being which is herschel schoen really is some sub thread of santa as a whole pretending to be herschel- putting on herschel's clothes in a profound and total way. if so, his memories of the original reality could be bastardized versions of real memories, which would give his whole deal a sort of ring of truth. obviously that also diminishes the extent to which he could be considered a human giving a verdict as a human, but i think that's sort of the horror of it- humanity lives on in a certain way but absolutely not in any way we can endorse without hesitation

HOWEVER as much as i like the interpretation i also can't ignore that floornight and almost nowhere are both about the strange things that the bootstrap paradox does to the measure 0 subset of reality where god is still in the process of instantiating himself. so like maybe the time travel is real. frankly that explains a lot of the timeline weirdness anyway, if there's tinkering going on to have made the ascent of the machines ethical somehow. that meshes well with what i think of as one of the more interesting aspects of the story- the strange (or perhaps not so strange) values of santa. he wouldn't care to have gained power earlier or unassailably, but orchestrating it so that they could have had some sort of permission totally fits

some things i still don't get but really like:

what the fuck is going on with vincents philosophy, like what's [...[...[]]]

what's going on with how he behaves towards miriam at the end? seems clear that the whole forsaking the flesh thing isn't really an explicit teaching of his

what's going on with ruth?

what on earth is going on with frederick? it's easy to say that he's there to teach herschel about cybernesis, but all that stuff with his dad was weirdly personal. maybe santa retains more sentiment then we might think, and eggert was at least similar to its creator?

what's the vibe on pattern matching? is it good? is it an evil virus of satan? could go either way!

should any of this be considered at all? is the text more mystical than i give it credit for?

some things the book did to me:

after finishing i stared at my dog for maybe 10 minutes trying to figure out if i had an obligation to try and teach her what languages, or art are

somehow i went to bed convinced that I had to go into ai, specifically capabilities, and fell asleep trying to come up with a plan to make that happen

[wooahaes]

where to go?

pairing: non-idol!maknae line [svt] x gn!reader

genre: fluff. roommates au. [can be read as poly if you wish!]

word count: 1.4k~

warnings: reader doesn't have a great relationship with their family. some bickering within fic (between seungkwan and chan).

daisy's notes: these three are my beloveds fr btw

If there was one thing your three housemates knew about you, it was the unfortunate aspect of your family life being… not very great. Ever since you moved in with them a few years ago, they’d noticed plenty. You often spent holidays alone in the apartment, you rarely called home unless you were calling your grandparents, and even then you didn’t seem to be on great terms with your parents past sending money or gift cards to one another on birthdays and special occasions. So they made up for it in different ways: little celebrations for the four of you every year, just to keep you involved in the festivities.

And now that the winter holidays were fast approaching… They’d been discussing plans without you. Essentially, they had plans to head home for some time with their families when they were off work.

And now? Well…

“They should go home with me,” Seungkwan had said, arms crossed over his chest.

A little over a week ago, they’d approached you together to ask if you felt like coming home with one of them. Sure, you weren’t blood related, but the four of you felt like your own little family and you’d met their families enough times that it wouldn’t be weird for you to come around. You had simply given a non-committal “Sure, whatever, just let me know when so I can plan around it for work” without showing any preference or pressure toward them in the event they changed their minds. 

Before Chan or Vernon could get a word in, Seungkwan had continued, “One of my sisters is coming home later because her work schedule didn’t line up. So we have the extra room, and they wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch or anything—”

“Uh. Dude. They wouldn’t sleep on the couch at my place,” Vernon spoke up immediately. “They can take my bed—plus my sister loves them.” 

That was definitely a stretch. His sister liked you well enough, but most of your interactions involved her (jokingly) pitying you for having her brother as a housemate.

Chan rolled his eyes. “Obviously, they’re going to come home with me. They love my family the most.” (Not true: you were on good terms with everyone, no strict preference whatsoever.) 

“You invited them home to celebrate chuseok!” Seungkwan shot back immediately, “Because you didn’t want them to be alone in the apartment!” 

“And my parents love them!” Chan said, “They said they’re welcome back anytime—so they’re probably expecting them!”

“Hey,” Vernon spoke up, “my mom already said she’d rather me bring them than let them spend the holidays alone. Plus she hasn’t seen them in a while. Do you really want to disappoint—”

“No! No! You don’t get to play that card!” Seungkwan huffed, hugging himself tight. “You can take them to see your mom whenever you want! I’m going back to Jeju and I think they should come with me.” 

“My family is in—”

“You just took them home for chuseok a few months ago!” 

Chan stood up, “Right! Months ago! You can take them to Jeju whenever you want, too!”

“That’s different!”

“It’s not!” 

Vernon just sat by, watching the two bicker. “I mean… If they don’t want to travel…”

Seungkwan shook his head, “They already said they’re fine with whatever! All we need to do is let them know the dates so they can plan accordingly—which is why they should go with me, because it gives them more than a week to prepare.”

“They don’t have to plan so much if they come with me,” Vernon hummed, sinking back in his chair, “just saying.”

“I’m going the latest of anyone, so they should go with me,” Chan said.

“It’s not our fault you waited so long to get work off,” Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “You should have planned ahead—”

It was around this point that you couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. The three hadn’t noticed you stepped out of your room earlier, headphones draped around your neck (music paused, otherwise one of them would have definitely heard it by now). You’d thought about saying something plenty of times, but something about how heated up you knew they’d become made you stand by and wait. Of course it’d be Seungkwan who cared the most and was the most vocal about it. And, of course it’d be Chan who wanted to take you home again after his parents adored you so much the first time (chuseok with them had been nice, actually, and you appreciated Chan for including you on something you thought you would be intruding on). And then there was Vernon, who had his arguments but settled back to watch the other two butt heads for a while. If you hadn’t stepped in, you were pretty sure he would have jumped back in once they’d argued themselves out. 

“This is serious!” Seungkwan said the moment he saw you. “We don’t want you to spend the holidays alone, so we just need you to decide who you want to go with so we can plan!”

Chan rolled his eyes, “They’re laughing because we’re arguing over it. They probably think we’re silly—”

“I do!” You said, wiping away at a tear that had escaped in your laughter. You made your way across the room to them, already pulling Seungkwan and Chan in for a hug—gesturing for Vernon to come join. “I just… I really love you dumbasses, alright?”

“I wasn’t even arguing—”

You rolled your eyes. “Vernon, get in here.”

The three came together to let you embrace them as warmly as you could before breaking apart again. Chan slid into the innermost chair, letting you take his seat as the four of you started discussing this seriously. With you having gone with Chan for chuseok (again, you thanked him: it was nice that he cared about you and that his family had been okay with letting you join them so you wouldn’t be alone), you’d immediately crossed him off the list to his dismay. But he’d understood: it felt a little unfair for him to steal you away again… and there were plenty of times in the future you could visit his family if you felt like it. That left the decision between Seungkwan and Vernon, and as much as you’d like to see Jeju and the Boos again… you’d rather save that trip for later. Which meant you’d spend some time with Vernon and his family for a bit, the easiest trip and the one you could definitely do if you couldn’t get off work.

“You’re coming home with me next year for chuseok,” Seungkwan said, playing with your fingers idly since you’d left your hand resting on the table. “Chan and Vernon can do something else with you, but you can come with me next year.”

You’d cracked a smile. “Is Mama Boo going to be okay with that?”

“You’re already like family, so yes,” he shrugged. “I’ll talk to her when I see her and make sure, though.”

You’d felt your face grow a little warmer. “How much do your families know…?”

“Enough,” Vernon had shrugged. “I mean. I talk to my mom enough, y’know? She knows that you don’t have any family here and she’d rather you come hang out than be alone. Dad thinks so, too. Everything else is your business, so…” 

“Right!” Chan spoke up. “But… That’s why I invited you for chuseok, actually.” He began to fiddle with his sleeve for a moment. “I asked mom about maybe bringing back some food for you, and she said to just bring you along since Seungkwan and Vernon wouldn’t be here and that you shouldn’t be alone. She actually chewed me out for even thinking about  leaving you here alone when chuseok is about family.”

Again, your face grew warmer with embarrassment. “Oh.” 

Between Seungkwan playing with your fingers, the arm that Chan had rested around you, and the way Vernon was trying to goad you into playing footsie under the table… Something felt particularly sweet about having the three of them to care about you. You’d always try to be there for them when they needed you most, but it still felt weird accepting that they loved and cared for you just as much—to the point where they would straight up fight over who got to take you home for the holidays, just to ensure that you didn’t spend them alone again.

Maybe you really did have a family here after all. It was just one you’d picked out for yourself, and you loved these idiots more than life.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae

[bullet-prooflove]

LongDistance!Series - Part One: Melina - Manny x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets  @kmc1989  @withakindheartx  @darqchilddaydreamz @theesirenteller @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @delightfulbelieverwerewolf@redpool @trublu2u @fleureeee @thiashazzywriting @lauraaan182 @hatersaremymotivators @fanfic-n-tabulous @ravennaortiz @just-a-throw-away @yousigned-upforthis @kabloswrld @keyweegirlie @katymae12344 @rampsen @@jaebae

In the months that follow more postcards appear on Manny’s fridge, almost more than he can count because you’re bouncing around from country to country, city to city documenting Tattoo Expos throughout Europe.

Barcelona, Lisbon, Munich, Berlin, Paris, Versailles, Vienna.

You’re getting busier and busier these days and Manny can’t help but wonder when you’ll eventually stop to take a breath.

The two of you have been together almost six months and speak daily over Whatsapp through messages, voice notes or video calls. You send the occasional care package from whichever country you’re visiting, beers from Germany, wine from Spain that he’d put aside for when you returned, a gourmet food hamper from France. He’d shared that with his daughter Melina, one evening. The two of them had dressed in striped shirts with matching berets when they sat down and sampled the delicacies.

“Where did this come from?” She’d asked him as he’d set the wicker basket it had arrived in on the kitchen table.

“My friend sent it.” He tells her as they sample some of the salted butter caramel. “She travels all over the world taking pictures of people’s bodyart. Sometimes she sends me things so I can get a taste of the country she’s in.”

“Can I meet her?” Melina had asked.

He’d paused then because although it’s been on his mind recently, but he hasn’t actually broached the topic. There hasn’t been a woman in his life since his ex-Samantha. He’s fucked other women, girls who hung out at the bar, but he’s never brought them home. The truth is he knows it’s not him that they want, it’s the patch. There’s prestige that comes with being acquainted with the President of the club; it gives a woman status. He doesn’t want to bring a person like that into Melina’s world. His daughter is the most precious thing in his life, he doesn’t want her to be tainted by the darker aspects of his existence. She needs better role models in her life than the women who hang around the club and fuck their way up the hierarchy.

“She’s very far away.” He tells her as he snags a handful of coconut popcorn. “Somewhere called Versailles in France.”

He’d hoped that was the end of it before Melina picked up his cellphone and reminded him how video chat worked. His daughter was too smart for her own good and for his.

It’s later that night when Melina’s gone home that he calls you. It’s past midnight in Yuma, which makes it eight am your time. You’re still in your pyjamas, a pretty silk set that he wishes he was there to help you take off. He imagines his fingertips trailing over the thin strap before he guides it down your shoulders.

“My daughter wants to meet you.” He tells you as he sits with his back against the headboard, the room illuminated by the light from his lamp.

“Is that what you want?” You ask him, cradling a mug of coffee to your chest.

He tips his head back against the wall for a second before considering his next words carefully.

“I think this…” He says gesturing between the phone and himself. “…would be a good introduction, a way of testing the waters moving forward. I’ve spoken to Sam and she’s cool with it.”

He’d had the conversation while Melina was packing up her stuff. Once she’d learned you weren’t one of the club girls she had warmed to the idea significantly, he’d shown her some of your pictures and a couple of your articles.

“The two of you getting serious?” She’d asked in that New York drawl of hers and he hadn’t been able to keep the edges of his mouth from twitching up.

Sam can read every single one of his tells. They’ve known each other for over a decade, she’s seen him at his worst and at his best. It’s the first time she’s seen that look on his face in a while and she’s glad that he’s finally focusing on something that isn’t the club or Melina, that he’s allowing himself to be happy.

“Well, she’s successful, she’s smart, she travels the world. I think you could do a lot worse.” She teases him before nudging his shoulder with her own. “At the very least Melina meets an interesting person.”

He’s taken that on board before he’d called you. Even if this thing between the two of you didn’t work out, you can give his daughter insight into another world, one that she won’t get to see here in Yuma.

“If Sam’s signed off and it’s cool with you then I would love to meet her.” You tell him with a smile before taking a sip from your coffee cup. “However, let’s actually schedule a call so that I’m wearing something a little more appropriate when I meet your daughter.”

“I don’t know Mami, that looks pretty appropriate to me right now.” He says, biting his lower lip as the silk clings to your chest. You aren’t wearing a bra, and he can see the dark shape of your nipples through the fabric. “Maybe you could show me a little more.”

You laugh before setting your coffee cup down on the nightstand. You put the phone in the little wooden stand you usually use for when your video calls with Manny get a little risqué.

“So, tell me Manny,” You say as your thumbs hook underneath the straps of your camisole, drawing them down just a little. “What would you like to see first?”

Love Manny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[dalishious]

hihi i was wondering how vesta gets along with the other companions??

Morrigan mentioned here.

Alistair and Vesta do not get along. Vesta initially distrusts him because of his past as a templar, though as he reveals he didn't actually want that life and is (for the most part) not like the templars she knows, this lessens. But Alistair's dislike of Morrigan starts to flood into Vesta too, since the two become so close, so fast. Then Vesta agrees to Jowan's ritual sacrifice of Isolde to save Connor, followed by becoming a blood mage herself, and this severely sours their relationship. Alistair is disgusted these choices, but there is a part of him that wonders if maybe he will be able to keep her from becoming an abomination, if he can only lead her away from what he considers a dark path. Because the thing is, Vesta has goodness in her, and that's something he didn't think blood mages were capable of having. Vesta, in turn, finds Alistair's fears annoying, but is too considerate to actually voice it (most of the time). So, they have this really unspoken unease, masked by polite banter.

Vesta enjoys Leliana's company, especially hearing her stories. Leliana finds Vesta to be a curious case; she's so used to being able to read everything about a person, but because Vesta had personhood denied from her so long, there's not much to read about her when they first meet. Like Alistair, she doesn't approve of a lot of the choices Vesta makes, but unlike Alistair, she is far more forgiving of these choices, believing that the good in Vesta outweighs the bad. And also unlike Alistair, she is far more gentle with voicing her opinions, so Vesta is a lot less annoyed.

Zevran and Vesta are best friends. She observes fairly early on that their upbringings had quite a lot in common, the only major difference being she was owned by the Chantry, and he the Crows. So, she sees a kindred spirit in him, someone to vent to, and listen to when he does the same. When Zevran talks about the nasty aspects of his time as an Antivan Crow, he is surprised with how compassionate Vesta remains, rather than either looking down at him. Zevran has always been dismissive of the tragedy he's experienced, but with Vesta, he slowly starts to allow himself to feel grief, especially for Rinna. She also helps him come to terms with having a future he can decide, seeing Vesta confronted with the same question for the first time, just like him. Zevran is one of the few in the party to always support Vesta's decisions, believing she has the right to live her own life. This kind of support means the world to Vesta. To sum it up, they help each other realize they deserve and want to live.

Wynne is a horrible reminder to Vesta of the life she wants to leave behind. She sees Wynne as someone she would have grown up into, had she not been recruited into the Grey Wardens, and that horrifies her. When Wynne tries to offer advice, Vesta usually does the exact opposite of whatever it is she says, and this frustrates Wynne greatly. When Wynne learns that Vesta has become a blood mage not long after joining the party, she is horrified. They fight about it constantly, because Wynne never quits bringing it up. And when Wynne eventually shares that she is hosting a spirit inside her, Vesta laughs in her face and calls her the biggest hypocrite she's ever known. They are bitter and hostile towards each other right to the end, only travelling together because Wynne refuses to see the warden's plight go unaided when she sees herself as a necessary part of stopping it.

Vesta pities Oghren, but every time she questions if there's more to him than she sees, he reminds her of what an inappropriate gross bastard he is.

Sten was not recruited. (Sorry, Sten fans - I usually do recruit him, but I didn't feel like it was in Vesta's character at the point of Lothering to go against the Chantry's wishes yet.)

I haven't really given thought to Shale, yet. It'll emerge when I recruit her, I guess.

[evermoortarot]

For my baby witches, your curiosity of the craft must be so fun. Explore the craft, learn as much as your heart desires but PLEASE do not forget to ground yourself. Not every witch is your friend, unfortunately, and that is due to a lack of maturity. You learn as you grow.

Witchcraft and spirituality go hand in hand. As you heal your spirit, your energy grows and your priorities as a witch change. Make sure to ground yourself, meditate, and make sure to focus on yourself more than others.

Sometimes we might think outside sources are poisonous or cursing us when in reality it could be our own selves that need healing and growth. As you heal your past lives through disciplined meditation and grounding techniques your power will be stronger and your presence a natural repellent for emotional vampires and petty hexes.

For example, I attended a vampire ball last year and a spiteful woman who I barely spoke to throughout the event attempted to hex me. I felt this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach causing me incredible nausea until I arrived to my hotel room. A friend who accompanied me wore a protection necklace that snapped the moment I felt off. We left immediately. I took off all my clothes as soon as I got to my hotel room, cleansed, sat on the ground, took deep breaths, and cleared my head of all thoughts. Grounding looks different for everyone but if it weren’t for the strong presence and protection I had built over time for myself I would have ended up feeling a lot worse. Her attempt was unsuccessful in every aspect.

This woman complimented my appearance a few time throughout the night and tried to make herself seem friendly but I am loyal to my gut feelings and made sure to be safe while enjoying my night. You never know when things may go awry.

Baby witches, prioritize protection. Enjoy the craft but do not place emphasis on spells or any sort of energy manipulation without thoroughly researching the process. In order to take, you must give. That is the law of nature. That is how the universe keeps its balance. Life is death, death is life. Truly contemplate before working your craft and ask yourself:

“What is my motivation for this work? Am I fueled by my ego or by my higher self? Does this work resonate or am I allowing my emotions to control me? Have I meditated enough?”

Chances are if you don’t have the desire to meditate before working, the intent may not be the best. You will naturally wish to prepare for grand work when it feels right intuitively.

Turn to your tarot cards. What is spirit’s message for you? What do your guides wish to convey? Be open to receive positive or negative feedback before making any emotionally charged decisions.

A pendulum is also an amazing tool. Use with caution and make sure you know who you’re speaking to.

Cleanse your energy. Use crystals, moon water, bask in sunlight, distance yourself from society and go walk in nature. Feel the ground with your hands and feet. Move to music with healing frequencies, move the way your body wishes to with no judgement. These are all incredibly simple yet effective ways to ground yourself and release negative energy.

Hope this helps you guys. I’m so happy you’ve begun your journey. There is so much to learn. Be safe on your travels.