#like you just want to be loved but the thorns and hooks that grow out of you make you a plague to the people you care about

[cosmiicfairy]

🗑

[wpdarlingpan]

Could we get something with Yandere ouat Peter? Preferably gender-neutral or nb reader.

An idea I had is maybe Hook has a kid, so the character would have grown up in Neverland. I think maybe a platonic Yandere Peter would be v interesting, where he maybe tries to interact with reader as a ‘cool older brother’ sort of figure, despite the fact that reader very much knows exactly who he is and that he’s dangerous. Romantic would be fine too though!

Thank you so much for the request! I apologize it took so long and I have not written in a while so I hope it's okay!

I loved this idea so I had to see how it'll play out. I did the platonic version and although I did use Y/N and made them gender-neutral, I wrote they were 17 for the story's sake. I often have Peter refer to them as a child because in his mind he feels the need to take care of and protect them.

I am considering a part two if people like this idea enough, maybe taking place when the Storybrooke residents arrive.

Warning: Yandere Behavior

Word Count: 2886

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The Love Of A Brother

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The day Killian Jones, otherwise known by his more colorful moniker Hook, came to Neverland was a day he would never forget.

He had many men aboard, each desiring to never grow old until they wished. They all had been warned about the dangers that lurk within the water and upon the soil of Neverland but the idea of dying from old age was a more terrifying feat to them.

However, one person had little choice in the matter, as they were still somewhat forced to come to Neverland.

Captain Hook's kid, Y/N.

After the day Mila died it was up to him to become a single parent. Overall he was rather good at it. Always telling stories so that they would be able to sleep at night or sitting by their bedside when they had gotten a cold. But, no matter how much love they held for each other, Killian could not stop going after the man who killed his wife and the mother of his child.

Y/N was 17 the day they had arrived in Neverland and would remain so until the day they left.

This was not a decision Hook made lightly. Bringing the person he cared for more than anyone into the hellish landscape wasn't something he'd wish on his worst enemy (other than Rumpelstiltskin) but the idea of leaving them with no idea when he would return hurt even more.

So he created the rules.

Do not leave the boat without permission.

Do not ever interact with Peter Pan or his shadow.

Avoid the Lost Boys.

"Who is Peter Pan?" They asked their father as the Jolly Roger settled after coming through the portal to Neverland.

"A bloody demon." He responded looking at the dark island as it neared.

Hook began telling the stories that he knew. Even sharing how he had met Peter Pan in the first place. Albeit leaving out what happened to his brother as he blamed himself as well as Pan for the tragedy.

Pan knew he was arriving on the island. Hook riskily contacted him through his shadow to come to a truce before being allowed to arrive on the island.

But there was a little thing Hook had forgotten to mention.

His child.

He had hoped that if none of the inhabitants of the island knew their relation, with Peter assuming they were deckhands or something, they wouldn't be targeted if Peter got bored or wanted to play a game.

But the resemblance was noticeable from the first meeting.

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

As the boat docked onto shore to make an initial supply run, Hook kept Y/N close. Half of the crew, including the two of them, walked carefully through the jungle, avoiding every thorn they came across.

But the real danger was just up ahead. After all, Peter Pan wouldn't be a polite host if he didn't welcome his guests.

The second the pirates entered a clearing they were surrounded by the sound of rustles as the leaves moved around the edge of the clearing and a figure appeared about 20 feet ahead on the other end.

Hook froze, he knew he should have expected him to show himself this early, but a part of him had hoped he wouldn't, not yet at least.

Y/N held onto their bow and arrows tightly as they observed the boy up ahead who looked just a little older than them. Judging by the way he held the spotlight, they had to assume this was Peter Pan.

"Look what we have here, I didn't expect to see you on the island this quickly. I mean after what had happened last time you were here, the idea of returning so willingly was unexpected, Captain." Peter spoke as he neared the group, the Lost Boys forming a circle around them to prevent anyone from running.

Peter inspected the group as they each held some form of weapon. Be it a dagger, sword, or even one with a bow and arrow.

He neared the one with the bow and arrow, the idea of figuring out what else made them so different lingered in his mind. Peter stood closely in front of them, studying their appearance and the subtle yet noticeable looks towards the direction of Hook.

This is when something had clicked.

His brain was no longer assessing the group as a whole or messing with the Captain. His thoughts were reserved for only them. The way they were trying to hide their shaking hands and the way they held onto the bow tighter the closer he got. The shine of their eyes as they looked at him almost like a frightened deer.

He could recognize a scared child anywhere and this time he didn't want it to be his fault. It was like an instinct of protection filled his black heart. Their fearful yet innocent gaze was embedded into his soul. Someone like this simply couldn't live with harsh pirates.

He reached a hand out towards them but Hook stepped in the way. His gaze was harsh yet Peter could easily detect the fear hidden in them. For himself or the child, he wasn't sure.

Peter smirked at Captain Hook as he realized why they had looked so familiar now seeing the similarities in their features and hair color. He had been to distracted by the odd feeling of protection and familiarity to even acknowledge the finding.

"You have a child? My you got busy after leaving last time." He teased as he glanced around the man to see them standing there, their gaze locked onto the ground.

"Stay away from them or so help me you will have wished-" Hook began to say before Peter cut him off.

"You'll do what? Let me remind you, you're here because I allow it. You eat the island's food only because I allow it. You only live because I have use for you yet." He threatened motioning his hand for the Lost Boys to run away.

Y/N took a sigh of relief as the group dispersed but their worry would still remain until Peter was out of their sight. The ideas of the horrors they were told, all of which could happen to them just by being in his presence, filled their anxious mind.

Peter stared at Hook seriously before sending a look and a playful wink toward Y/N, hoping to make them less afraid.

"I'll see you soon." He commented staring directly into their eyes before disappearing.

—————————

Apparently soon meant a few days.

It first began when Y/N was laying on deck, watching the stars when someone appeared next to them and laid down on the spare part of the blanket.

“The stars are beautiful aren’t they?” He spoke as if lying on the ground next to them wasn’t an unusual occurrence.

Y/N was silent, trying to hide the fact they were afraid. The unknowing was terrible, the idea that their father was fast asleep, probably passed out from exhaustion at that, was nerve-wracking as they could not call for help.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me.” Pan said genuinely, staring at the side of their face as he admired their courage to hide their fear.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You have a reputation you know. I’m sure you could get rid of me in a heartbeat.” Y/N was nervous now, it audibly showed through the small stutter that sounded in their sentence.

“That doesn’t mean I want to… Do you know why I’ve brought all these boys to the island?”

“Because they’re lost?”

“Because no one deserves to feel alone.”

Peter Pan believed that because Y/N was an only child who spent their whole life traveling the seas, that they had to be lonely. They are constantly moving and never staying in one place, let alone with people their age.

Then their father, he’s a pirate with a drinking problem who is so obsessed with revenge that even though he is protective and loves his child, Peter couldn’t tell you which the man valued more.

Revenge or love?

If Peter were to take her right now, he could be their older brother. Someone who takes care of their little sibling in the face of everything like heartbreak, anxiety, everything that would make them feel anything other than happiness.

Y/N would be his sibling. He’d be their only brother.

Being an older brother to Y/N sounded perfect to him.

—————————

Their next encounter was when they had been sitting on the edge of the beach as the Jolly Roger was anchored nearby.

Y/N's father had allowed them to hang out along the shore alone.

The captain and crewmates were planning on staying on the edge of the jungle that was Neverland. He had figured they would be okay for a couple hours and that he could hear if they needed anything.

He knew the dangers that posed leaving them there alone but he thought they would be cornered again the second they entered the tree line so there really wasn’t anywhere ‘safe’ at the moment.

That’s how he rationalized it at least.

But when Peter saw them sitting alone on the shore, the mermaids moving closer by the second, he saw Hook as irresponsible and unfit to care for Y/N.

He quickly approached them, the sight of him causing the mermaids to swim away quickly, realizing that was not someone they wanted to lure in.

“Y/N.” Peter said as he approached, sitting in the sand next to them.

“What are you doing?” They spoke questioningly “I thought you would be bothering my father and his crew.”

“Is that what he counted on. Me leaving you alone as they frolicked or whatever they are doing in the jungle? Is that why he left you here defenseless?” He replied getting more confident that Killian wasn’t fit to take care of Y/N.

“I don’t like what you’re accusing him of.” Y/N replied, glaring at Pan in front of them but if anything it was adorable.

He raised his hands jokingly as if he actually felt threatened by them.

“I’m just saying, he knows the dangers of this island. If it’s not me, it’s the lost boys, then the Dreamshade, and as you almost realized, the mermaids.” Peter counted off making Y/N realize what the subtle splashing noise they heard was. “He shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“I’m 17. I can take care of myself for a few hours.” They argued, much like if they were telling their older sibling they didn’t need to be babysat.

“Sure you can. But you don’t need to when I’m here.”

———————-

From then on he would appear randomly whenever he knew Y/N was alone.

When they weren’t, he was silently protecting them from the shadows.

If we’re sketching in their room? He’d sit next to them silently, allowing them to focus. Meanwhile he was busy admiring their skills even if it was a simple picture of the sky.

They volunteered to go look for some more supplies on the island?

They mysteriously got separated from the group for a few hours.

He took them saying ‘I can take care of myself for a few hours’ rather literally. In those few hours, they got an entire tour of the main points of the island.

Even the camp.

Peter had them sit on his designated chair, introducing Y/N as their little sibling. Each of the boys came up to them and introducing themselves enthusiastically as the proposed all the fun games they could play if they were to stay.

Even when Y/N emphasized greatly that they couldn’t.

Each and every time.

When their birthday came around Peter gifted them a necklace, his initials were on the inside, to protect them from anyone who finds their way to the island.

Although he made sure to use his magic to conceal the necklace from the eyes of Hook.

Not that he cared about what the man thought, after all nothing would keep him from his little sibling.

Nothing.

-----------

The day Peter had been preparing for came sooner than expected.

Hook had discovered a way to kill the dark one and his need for the island was gone. Meaning it was time to return back to the enchanted forest.

The crew had begun preparing to return back to the forest. Packing up their supplies and strapping down anything they had on deck to prepare for traveling through the portal.

Y/N was packing up anything loose in their room. They had mostly finished other than having to pack the rest of their art supplies.

“So you were just going to leave and not tell your older brother? I'm offended” Peter spoke appearing in their room and sitting on their bed.

In their deal, he had allowed Hook to leave once he had found a way to accomplish his goal.

That was before he had met Y/N.

“I was never going to say in Neverland. I was always going to leave. I don’t know what you were expecting.” Y/N spoke harshly trying to push him away.

They had to admit, after all this time spent with Peter, that it was hard to view him as some irredeemable demon. He comforted them when they had nightmares of their mother’s death, protected them from the mermaids, did their favorite activities with them (even if he was not really invited), and seemed to love them.

Peter knew they were just trying to protect themself from the pain of leaving so they lashed out. He could tell they were saddened at the thought of leaving him. This made him feel warm inside.

Y/N assumed they’d be fine once leaving Neverland, they would have to forget about Peter Pan and their life would go back to normal, well as normal as it gets.

Suddenly they heard approaching footsteps.

“Y/N? Are you ready to go? We are about to enter the portal now.” Killian called through the closed door, his eagerness to leave the island covering the fact that there was a muffled sound as he spoke. Hook was ecstatic, his time for revenge had come. His head was in the clouds as he ran over his plan over and over again. Causing him to not even think to just poke his head in to check on his child, just of the idea that the portal was closing any minute

The muffled noise was Peter whispering that he would not let Hook leave if they said anything other than that they were ready.

Y/N knew if they weren’t allowed to leave, their father would be devastated.

“Yes father, I’m ready!” They called back and the two listened as the man’s footsteps grew farther and farther away.

“You can’t leave Y/N. You’re my little sibling, I have to take care of you.” He spoke manipulatively the second Hook was out of distance.

“I have to. If it’s up to me, I’ll never leave my father. He raised me, he loves me! He will take care of me better than you ever can.” Y/N retorted, frustrated at the situation. Why wouldn't Peter just go away? They knew they cared for him, even just a little bit. But their father was very important to them. Even if he had been a little distracted while searching for revenge, they didn't feel his love any less.

A loving father or a over protective, self-proclaimed brother.

They knew which had meant more. They had made their choice, one they couldn't vocalize as Peter softly blew poppy dust into their face, causing them to pass out instantly.

“Then it isn’t up to you.” as he spoke “This is for your own good. I love you Y/N and I know you love me. You are better off at my side.”

He picked them up bridal style as he and Y/N disappeared off the boat and reappeared in the camp. All of their stuff appears on the ground off to the side of them.

"Welcome to your new home, Y/N"

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

Hook had gone to Y/N’s cabin to check on them, the portal closing behind him as they could see the Enchanted Forest off in the distance.

He was eager to see his child, wanting to celebrate the idea of finally being able to avenge his wife and their mother. Hook knocked and didn’t hear an answer assuming they had been disoriented or hurt by the portal, he opened the door quickly.

But, he was met with an empty room and no Y/N.

He looked around for any signs frantically before he spotted a letter on the bed.

Hook,

You were always too focused on the idea of revenge that you neglected what was in front of you. You never deserved Y/N and you never will. Each time you left them alone, I was there. I comforted them, I protected them, and I loved them. Each thing is something you couldn't do while you searched for something you did not even know existed. Y/N will be better off without you.

I always wondered if you'd choose revenge over love.

I guess I have my answer.

Their brother,

Peter Pan

[planetkiimchi]

4 in the morning | h.gh

featuring: hendery x gn!reader

summary — fishing in the woods with hendery. that’s it. that’s the post.

word count: 664 words

author's note: i wanted to write this for jaemin originally, but hendery posted (x), and who am i to deny the temptation of writing for my beloved? also, this was orginally inspired by my trip to the park with a few family friends, and we went to the docks and i saw some signs on sustainable fishing and just thought i wanted to write something domestic about fishing. hope y’all like the brainrot.

p.s. if anyone wants to hear about “the language of thorns’ by leigh bardugo and how i’m unconsciously heavily influenced by ya authors… i’ll be waiting for you.

p.p.s. (yes i have a lot of thoughts what about it) here is a worship song rec for anyone who's christian, gratitude - brandon lake. i first heard this song last tuesday and it fits this vibe well so here you go!

The silver specks of moving creatures slipping past the gentle sway of the waves caught your eye, the tiny fish glittering under the hints of the rising sun’s rays. A breeze blew, taking with it the remnants of the morning dew growing too heavy for the delicate green leaves of the plants that littered the forest floor.

The nature reserve hummed with bright energy, feeding off the thrum of all the precious animals protected within its enclave. There was little threat here to the lives of those who sought shelter beneath the towering trees, and you found solace in the cool shade that accompanied the beginnings of the day.

There was a rustle beside you, and you turned to see Hendery standing there, feet moving surely amidst the grass. The second and third buttons of his shirt were fastened, and the wind played with his collar, the part of his shirt that was left free billowing out in the wind.

He took his place beside you, atop that small plank of wood that served as a seat, both of your feet dangling just above the river. He cast his rod into the stream, sending splashes and ripples dancing across the surface of the water.

The forest brimmed with newfound energy as the sun rose in the sky, a backlit glow casting the barest of shadows on Hendery’s face. His lips lifted as something tugged on his fishing rod, and he lifted it to inspect the fish he had caught.

“Barbodes rhombeus,” he murmurs, and you hastily draw a line in the column for that fish in the journal he’s taught you to keep.

It’s not often that you catch new species of fish, so catching this particular barb for the fifth time this week shouldn’t be disappointing.

Yet, the corners of your lips droop ever-so-slightly when you catch sight of the familiar silver glinting off its scales, wishing something more exciting would happen.

Hendery measures the length of the fish, saying it aloud for you to record, and releases it back into the stream. It wriggles off happily, glad not to have been kept in captivity.

Silence descends upon the clearing once more as Hendery attaches new bait to the hook and tosses it back into the river, leaving the two of you to watch the water and wait for another fish to bite.

Tired, you lay your head upon his lap, his body shielding you from the light as you stare up at his chin, counting the seconds between each measured blink of his. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and you nuzzle slightly into him, enchanted by the familiar scent of his clothing detergent.

Like your mother would say, tā yǒu tàiyáng de wèidào—he bears the scent of the sun. Perhaps it’s the way the sun has seeped into his tanned skin, calling the melatonin to its surface, or the way he hangs his clothes to dry just before midday, when the sun’s rays are the strongest. Either way, it rolls off his clothes like the curl of a surfer’s favourite waves, not sunkissed, but sun-dried.

“Y/n,” he whispers. “Y/n, love, I’ve caught something.”

You sit up in habitual excitement, eyes twinkling with curiosity as he pulls this fish out of the water. It’s both heavier and larger than the previous ones you’ve caught, and Hendery doesn’t identify it immediately.

“Channa gachua, I believe,” he says. “A new one for the collection.”

Happiness bubbles up inside your heart like a pot of milk on the stove, glad that there is finally something new gracing the pages of the journal. You write its name down in the book as Hendery spells it aloud, and draw a neat, dark line next to it.

The warmth spreads through your fingers, your limbs slowly finding life after the hours of biding your time in the woods, sleeping on the forest floor overnight in order to start fishing earlier.

Your patience has finally paid off, and as you glance at the look of concentration on Hendery’s face and the slippery fish he’s cradling in his hands, you think that even hundreds of hours would make this memory worth it.

notes:

*Barbodes rhombeus (Indochinese Spotted Barb) is a small, light greenish brown to silver species of fish that occurs in the Chao Phraya river basin in Thailand, and the huge Mekong river system.

*the 汉字 (hànzì, chinese characters) for tā yǒu tàiyáng de wèidào is 他有太阳的味道

*Channa gachua (Dwarf snakehead) is a species of fish with a maximum length of 18-36 cm, and its body is typically brown to blue-grey, with blue fins, with a red border. It is native to freshwater habitats in southern Asia, where it has a wide distribution from Iran to Indonesia.

[vryfmi]

it's skullyle thinking hour, here are some of my favourite This Is Literally Skullyle™ lyrics that turn me inside out

Depeche Mode - Speak to Me

Speak to me in a language That I can understand Tell me that you're listening Give me some kind of plan Give me something, you'd be my drug of choice You lead me, I follow, your voice I will disappoint you I will let you down I need to know you're here with me Turn it all around I'd be grateful I'd follow you around I'm listening, I'm here now, I'm found

Depeche Mode - Goodbye

I was always looking, looking for someone Someone to stick my hook in And pull it out and run Now I'm caught on your line All my thoughts are entwined In you Goodbye, pain Goodbye, again If you see me walking To the golden gates Then turn around, stop talking Stop and hesitate I'll be waiting up there With my fate in the air For you Goodbye [x11]

Anna Von Hausswolff - Stranger

But then, there is something moving against me It's not in line with the world I know Changing the heart, changing the spirit Changing my path, changing my soul My sight is clear, the colors are expanding I don't drown in the mirror on the wall There is no time, there is no face, there is no me I am following a shadow while I'm reaching for the sun But then you tell me I shouldn't worry You tell me to stay strong You tell me I shouldn't worry Why is this stranger in sync with my heart? I tiptoe here, I don't want you to see me I'm listening, I'm stolen by every word you say A dream is pulling out my heart and spirit And I'm scared to fall, I'm scared of death And I'm scared of all the lies But then you tell me I shouldn't worry Oh, you tell me to stay strong You tell me I shouldn't worry We're living now, let's live now, as we won't live for long

Daughter - Alone / With You

I hate sleeping alone Terrified with the lights out I hate living alone Talking to myself is boring conversation Me and I are not friends She is only an acquaintance I hate dreaming of being alone 'Cause you are never there Just a shadowy figure with a blank face Kicking me out of his place / I hate sleeping with you 'Cause you are never there Just a shadowy figure with a blank face Kicking me out of his place I hate living with you I should get a dog or something I hate walking with you Talking to myself is boring conversation You and I were once friends Now you're only an acquaintance I hate dreaming of being with you [x3] Terrified with the lights out [x2]

The XX - Together

You said you don't have to speak I can hear you I can feel all the things you've ever felt before I said it's been a long time Since someone looked at me that way It's like you knew me And all the things I couldn't say Together, to be Together and be

Medicine Boy - The Strange in Me

You have saved me To love is to be free I am tested endlessly But I won’t save you I am jealous and unkind and I think of you as mine So I won’t save you I have caged you, betrayed you and caged you and caged you and caged you / I would have done anything for you Bring you a devil make it sing for you But I’ll wrap you up in rubber and set fire to you ‘Cause that’s the only thing that I know how to do- You have changed me Rearranged me With all that you've changed, yeah yeah You set free the strange in me, strange in me, strange in me

Medicine Boy - Bag of Bones

I am the one calling you at night I come riding on the pale moonlight I am the knocking at your door I am the body you’ve forgotten lying on the floor I am the flower that refused to bloom I am the sun that sets too soon I am the fly sleeping on the wall I am everything that is, I am nothing at all I am the thorn sticking in your side I am your self-destructive, swollen pride I am the blood sucked from the land I am an unborn child, a sacrificial lamb I am your ever-growing indignation I am your pickpocket inspiration And I am big, so big, you see Without you there is no me My bag of bones Bring your body on home Sweet heart of stone, you’ve gone and left me all alone / I am the muscle, the bone, the fat I am the horns under your hat We are entwined you know it’s true Without me there is no you

Nine Inch Nails - Right Where It Belongs (v2)

See the animal in his cage that you built Are you sure what side you're on? Better not look him too closely in the eye Are you sure what side of the glass you are on? See the safety of the life you have built Everything where it belongs Feel the hollowness inside of your heart And it's all Right where it belongs What if everything around you Isn't quite as it seems? What if all the world you think you know Is an elaborate dream? And if you look at your reflection Is it all you want it to be?

[lietpolski]

curious but do you have any historical serbia/bulgaria headcanons?

oh anon. do i. i'm historical serbul's number one lover it's SOOO canon to me!!!! a while ago i wrote a friend a break-down of their relationship's timeline <3 here's the "short" edited version of that:

to me, bul is just a biiit older & serbia has been around give or take for as long as he's been alive. and that's a big reason why bul tolerates him in modern day HAHA like bul is a sentimental guy who's lost a lot of people, so he clings to the ones he's known forever and is more forgiving of their flaws

speaking of flaws!! serbia was such an annoyance to bul for the longest time that little fucker <3 he kept getting into fights with bulgaria, winning some but getting his ass kicked a lot, just to do it again. at some point he was under (tentative) bulgarian control, i like to imagine back then he spent the entire time being spiteful and trying to make bul's life hell <3

after that serbia was taken by the byzantines which... extra incentive for bulgaria to want to kick byzantium's ass even more than he already did?? give him HIS grumpy nation boy back!!! well ig he got him back because they both ended up under byzantium after a while LMAO. soon after they had their peak at the same time. the strong serbian kingdom & the second bulgarian empire started (and ended) at about the same time! so i like to think of them being like,, oh, this nation next to me is growing stronger, he's a formidable enemy and a threat but like that's kind of hot !!! serbia was one of the 2 things keeping bulgaria from being able to get more territories to the west which pissed him off too idk i just love serbia never NOT being a thorn on this guy's side :,) u get made bulgarian once and in retaliation u annoy that man forever it's very serbiacore!

then u get to ottoman times where,, ok so u and your ex-enemy are stuck together under this guy's rule who you both hate. you already had sexual tension between you for a WHILE, things are bad & scary and you're worried you're gonna die like byzantium did, of course you're gonna find solace in each other!! i think they were together (in a very on-and-off not-putting-a-name-to-it way) for a while but they probably broke it off for good after some kind of big argument, maybe about bul's hesitation to fight for his independence (and after that, bul started dating romania)

the serbobulgarian war really messed up their relationship and trust they'd built over the years. after it, they only started being friendly-ish again when they fought side by side in the first balkan war, but i think that serbia declaring war on bul (to stop him from unifying and gaining power) after centuries of being together is one of bul's most painful memories to this day. the relationship turned sour again after the second balkan war, and then ww1, and ww2, and... so forth, until they started hanging out (& hooking up <3) again during communist times. and there u have it !!

[prismatica-the-strange]

I'll Forgive Your Sins | I Knew This Was a Dream, It Was Too Good to be True

Warnings: 18+, angst, happy-ish ending

Queen Tatiana learns of Krynn's unique abilities and insists she be introduced to the court (The Italics are meant to signify her speaking Falrosen)

Word Count: 2.8k

We Intertwined by The Hush Sound | Picrew Link | Dividers by @saradika

Genya grimaces, waving her thumb over Krynn's lips, removing the red hue she's applied.

"Try a more blush-y color," She suggests, and she nods.

"You're so pale even pastels seem dark on you."

Krynn laughs in agreement, flicking her bangs from her eyes.

There's a knock at the door, she calls for them to come in, and David does, holding a garment bag.

"This is a gift from General Kirigan," He says, "He had me work on it specifically for you."

He hooks it on the door of the wardrobe, pulls open the bag, and there hangs a stark white kefta with silver trim, unlike any she's seen before.

"David, it's beautiful," Genya compliments, taking the words directly from Krynn's mouth.

It reminds her of her days on Falros, shrouded in white dresses with flowing sleeves. She'd grown accustomed to the purple of her Durast classification, but as Genya helps her slide the garment on, she feels like herself again.

She fastens it and turns to see the back in the mirror, her heart melting.

Embroidered in silver up the spine is a beautiful tree with white gold leaves that grow up over her shoulder. Silvery, barbed vines twist around the cuffs and up her forearms, and more grace the lower hem and middle front.

"And this," David hands her a chunk of unshaped metal, "He said he hoped you would make something to match."

"Platinum?" She gasps, "I'll see what I can do."

Two platinum roses are pinned to the collar of her kefta, connected by a delicate thorned chain as she starts up the steps of the grand palace.

She's grateful to David for accompanying her this far, under Kirigan's order or not, without him she'd have no clue where to go.

He leads her to the garden where the party is gathered for her demonstration.

It's then that she realizes she has no idea what she's doing. She's not sure what she had expected from this engagement, but it surely wasn't this. The gowns, the music, the nobility, none of it is like anything like the celebrations she's attended on Falros. And next to the warm off-whites and golds of the palace filagree, she stands out like a bright eyesore.

She freezes, dandelions sprouting at her feet and David looks at her confused.

"Krynn? Are you okay?"

From his place near the royals, Kirigan notices Krynn standing still and rigid beneath the large stone archway leading to the gardens.

He quickly excuses himself and makes his way over to her.

"I'll take it from here, David."

She looks up at him over David's shoulder.

The durast nods and scurries off.

Aleksander offers her his arm, leading her back inside when she gladly takes it.

"What's the matter, my love?"

"I just need a moment," She says quietly and he turns to face her, taking her hands in his, "I haven't been the center of attention like this in... a very long time.'

She'd hidden herself away on the mainland for the express purpose of not being noticed like this.

His finger curls beneath her chin, tilting it up to look at him, "You look breathtaking."

By his side, she looks perfect.

"I'm surprised David was able to hide it from me for so long, this must've taken ages."

He chuckles, "The kefta suits you well, but I'd hardly noticed it."

"Aleksander," She scoffs.

"Was that not what you wanted to hear?" He teases, "Yes, David did a marvelous job, the kefta looks stunning on you. And this..."

His fingers lift the platinum chain, "Is a beautiful piece."

"You like it?" She asks, fingers grazing his when she moves to lightly touch it, "I nearly made them moonflowers, but I thought the roses better fit the thorns."

Someone in the garden laughs boisterously, stealing both of their attention.

"I think we should rejoin the party."

"Are you ready?"

"If I'm with you," She admits, "I am."

Her words fill him with pride and he leans down to press his lips to hers. The kiss instills a confidence in her she'd been lacking that evening and she's grateful for it.

"There is one thing," He says, "Regarding your introduction."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've told me Falros isn't your real surname and I can't exactly introduce you to the court and royal family as merely 'Krynn'."

"Right... I doubt my full title would have any sway here."

He gently cups her cheek, thumb running across her jaw. He has no idea what she's talking about, "Title?"

She hesitates, "Krynnl'ntfryce of Falros, daughter of Falros, mortal avatar of the Mother Goddess Falros."

She only lies a little, stretching the truth as far as the term 'mortal' is concerned.

"Mother goddess?... Yes, well Queen Tatiana would never stand somebody outshining her as a goddess," He chuckles. He's lived too long to believe in such things as gods and saints, "I'll take care of it."

He holds out his arm for her, leaning over and kissing the side of her head when she hooks her hand in the crook of his elbow, "Just remember, they may be looking at you, but this is all about the power they think they control."

All eyes are on them as they step back out to the busy garden. Arm-in-arm in a beautiful harmony of dark and light.

He lets her go for a brief moment to address the royals before turning back to her, his hand on the small of her back, "May I present, Krynnl'ntfryce, Daughter of Falros."

She bows her head, going rigid when Tatiana blurts out a small laugh.

"She's not quite what I expected," Her smile smug and self-important, "I mean no offense, dear, but you're honestly a bit off-putting. Those eyes."

Even Aleksander ruffles at that and is about to rebut her words when Krynn steps in.

Biting her tongue to keep from spitting harsh words back she smiles gracefully, "Anyone woman would pale in comparison to you, my queen."

"Oh!"

"She's not Ravkan," King Pyotr comments in shock at her accent.

"No, my king," Her accent thicker than normal, bringing a more melodic bounce to her voice, "But I have been honored to call such a wonderful country home for the past year."

She offers them another curt bow before Aleksander leads her away.

"Well done," He murmurs.

"Damned vulture should learn to hold her tongue," She seethes in Falrosen, the same benevolent smile on her lips, "That is how your sovereigns treat your gifted?"

"I know," He moves her into place, fingers grazing her chin, "But keep speaking to them as you just did and you will soon be their favorite Grisha."

"Those pigs don't deserve to favor me," She snickers, the words like a song in her mother tongue.

"Pay them no mind," He shushes, brushing her hair from her eyes, "Besides, what is a sovereign to a goddess?"

He steps away to address the crowd.

"May I introduce you all to Krynnl'ntfryce, our first and only Na'turek'i," He motions to her with an outspread arm and the garden goes quiet.

She balls her fists for a moment, looking down at the bare patch of earth at her feet.

The silence turns to murmurs when she flicks back the front flaps of her kefta and kneels down, burying her fingers in the loose dirt.

People begin to gasp when a sapling begins to sprout, growing taller and maturing there before their eyes as though years have passed.

She stands, fingers flourishing, and with everyone so distracted by the growing cherry tree Aleksander's gaze trails back to Krynn to find her eyes flitting around the royal family.

A line of Silverbark trees grow behind them, their branches intertwining as vines of Firefly Blossoms bloom in the shimmering twisted boughs.

More vines appear, around columns and up the back of chairs, bright white moonflowers coming to life around them.

With the cherry tree at her desired size she brushes away whatever dirt is sticking to her skin and lets her hands fall to her sides, her chin raised with a proud smile.

It's then that people start to notice the Silverbarks full of bioluminescent flowers, shocked gasps, and applause erupting around her.

Aleksander moves to offer her his hand but he feels a tug on his arm. He looks down to see two moonflower vines wound around it, one with black flowers, the other with white, tethering him there.

He turns when a hand rests on his shoulder, smiling softly at the sight of Krynn by his side again.

He scans the area, motioning to his far arm. She squeaks and waves her hand, the stems snapping, "Sorry."

He stops her when she goes to remove the flowers, pressing her hands back against his extended elbow.

"That was w-"

"Absolutely spectacular!" King Pyotr exclaims, interrupting their moment, "We'll never need to rely on farmers and random weather patterns again!"

Krynn bristles at his words, unable to hold back, "And what of the people who rely on their crop sales to the palace?"

"What of them?"

"I'm sure we'll all have much to discuss at a later date," Aleksander cuts in at her scathing look, "But for now, Tsar, why don't we all enjoy the festivities?"

"Calm down, love," He whispers as they walk away.

"You would let that disgusting creature rule you?" She hisses in Falrosen, venom in every word.

"You know I can't understand you when you talk like that," He reminds her and she pulls him to a hidden alcove.

"I said I won't do it!" She spits, "I won't, Aleksander. Not only would it be an unbearable strain on me, but it is cruel to the people he's meant to be ruling and I- I want no part in it. I simply won't do it."

"And I would never ask it of you," He assures her. His hands hold hers warmly, "Let me deal with the king. You merely need to enjoy your night."

She looks at him completely dumbfounded before she scoffs and shakes her head, pulling her hands from his.

"This is exactly why I left Falros," She mutters just loud enough for him to hear as she walks away.

He feels his shadows begin to creep up the walls of the Grand Palace. Is that a threat?

His gaze follows her as she graciously smiles at and mingles with power-hungry nobles. She acts well beyond her years like she's been doing this since the day she was born. Yet he can see a melancholy look behind her eyes as though she thinks no one understands whatever hidden pain and longing she's harboring.

She wants to scream. She knew this was all too good to be true. Another leader that wants to exploit her gifts for his own gain. Why is it her responsibility to feed some royal's kingdom? Is it not enough that she fights alongside its soldiers?

"Thank you," She nods, smiling wide at another empty compliment.

Her chest hurts, a dull ache deep in her heart that she hasn't felt since she first arrived in Ketterdam.

She doesn't want their adoration. Doesn't want their worship. All she covets is their respect, but instead, she feels like she's drowning, just as she had been on Falros.

She's nearly finished a round of mindless chatter and politics when she feels Aleksander's presence approach her.

"General," She acknowledges coldly, the frozen edge of it cutting his heart. He grips her upper arm as tight as possible without seeming suspicious.

"Can you come with me, please?"

Without waiting for an answer he drags her inside, far from any curious ears.

"Did I do something to horribly offend you?" He asks and it's the last thing it takes for her to snap.

"You parade me around like a prized dog in a shiny new collar," She yanks the platinum chain off and throws it on the floor, tugging at the collar of her kefta, and berating him in Falrosen, "I am insulted by your sovereigns, perform miracles for them, and you brush away my concerns as if I'm an ignorant child, yet you don't understand why I am upset? Yes, I am offended. You have offended me, your people have offended me, and your sovereigns have offended me!"

He's confused and taken aback at her outburst.

"My love-" He tries to brush away the hair that had fallen in her face but she slaps his hand away.

"Don't! I have never been so insulted in my life and I won't be made the fool here, Aleksander."

He watches her storm away, back to the Little Palace, leaving him to make excuses for her sudden absence.

She won't speak to him beyond a simple greeting when they meet around others and, despite his best efforts, she won't see him.

She doesn't wear her new kefta, so when she is seen it's when she's in purple.

Presents begin to show up at her door, expensive trinkets and jewelry, that are later returned to him crumpled and melted.

When that doesn't work, he tries a new approach. She won't eat with the others, taking her meals in her room.

So he has the cooks send up special meals, delicacies that don't get returned and he thinks she may be warming back up to the thought of him.

Two weeks of her cold shoulder is more than he can bear.

He knocks lightly on her door, surprised when she actually opens it.

"General Kirigan," She greets, eyes downcast and voice quiet.

"May I come in?"

She steps back to let him enter and he notices she seems more fidgety than normal.

"I think it's time we finally talk about what happened that night in the Palace Gardens."

She nods, still not looking at him, back pressed against the now-shut door.

He takes in the room. Dandelion puffs have pushed their way up between the floorboards, and wildflowers peak out from every other crack and crevice they can find.

Vines have started growing from where her fingers meet the door.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry," She whispers, "I acted childish and immature. I..."

He steps closer head craning his neck to get a better view of her face.

"I was scared..."

He straightens, shoulders squaring, and he grips her chin, lifting her face for him to see.

"Scared of what?" Had one of the nobles said something to her? Threatened her?

She turns her head, his fingers lingering, "And I was angry-"

"Scare of what?" He repeats, forcing her to look at him.

"Don't patronize me, Aleksander!" She snaps, pulling away from him.

"I may have acted childish but that doesn't mean I'm some innocent, ignorant toddler who needs your protection!" She looks at him with distaste, "You brushed off my concerns at the party too!"

"That was never my intention," He argues.

"And everyone there treating me like I'm some new toy for them to fawn over!" Some of the floorboards crack when roots start to push through them, "Every time someone finds out about what I can do I cease being a person and suddenly become a commodity!"

She continues to rant in Falrosen, the roots splintering and growing thicker, the room shaking until he takes her wrist and tugs her into his arms.

With his chest firmly pressed against her back and his fingers tightly weaved with hers she shudders, folding in on herself and taking him with her. The room steadies and the roots slow to a stop.

"It's like I can't breathe. Like... like I'm being buried alive." She cries, "Aleksander I can't do this again. I don't want to be... I'm so afraid I'll lose myself this time."

"Whatever you are scared of becoming I'll pull you back," He promises, "I'll be your tether."

"Don't let me drown," She whimpers and he kisses the side of her head.

"Never."

He can almost hear his mother now, criticizing him for falling for another mortal girl. Calling him a fool for loving someone who will die before he can even blink, but he needs this. Needs her.

She grounds him, makes him whole, drives him to insanity.

She's everything. Like a brilliant light that keeps him from fully succumbing to his shadows.

He moves to bring her over to the bed but stops when he feels the familiar tug of moonflower vines, holding them both in place. He watches as they continue to grow, wrapping around them and entangling them together.

"I'm sorry," She breathes. He holds her tighter when she tries to let go and wave them away.

"Leave them," He says, lowering them both to the floor and pulling her onto his lap. He kisses her temple and down her cheek to softly kiss her lips.

He nearly loses himself in the feel of them, warm and willing, becoming re-addicted to the taste, sweet and floral.

She pulls away, but only just, their noses bumping and their lips still brushing.

"I'll fix this later," She mumbles, running her hand across the ruined floor, "But for now just hold me."

[peefartress2]

part 1: lorena

an au where the pastel children's oddities are a bit more... extreme.

The thing is, Lorena knew that her friendship with Suzie wasn’t all like she made it out to be. There was a point in time where she really, really did believe that they were good friends. She looked past all rhyme or reason that would ever make her think they weren’t, and now she didn’t know why she ever thought Suzanna Winchester was on her side.

One question lingered in her mind: did she regret it, that half-baked excuse of a friendship? Every match that she cheered for her in? Their friendly battles? Her one-sided longing (?) for a friend like Suzie?

It sucked, thought Lorena as she rammed her fist into a punching bag, sweat beading at her forehead. (The gym was her private playground, the go-to place to work out in. No one thought to interrupt her training here.) It sucked because she wanted to hate Suzie so bad, for seeing her as a way to get to Lance, and she wanted to hate Lance for using her for power- because yeah, she understood the marriages in the first place were for their Kingdoms. But this felt different, it hurt, and it was why it hurt that she couldn’t understand. Maybe it was because of how genuine Lance was- or seemed. How much of that was real and how much of that was fake? And that just made her sad, which made her more angry, which made her so much more confused.

Tantrums from Lorena were common when she was a little princess. There would be no dessert left for 4 year old Lorena and she would get angry and violent, then thorns would form on her skin and Molly had to take care of all of it. Dear Molly, she was so steadfast and patient for dealing with all four Pastel Children as the King went on his missions. As well as Miss Agatha, who had helped nurture Lorena’s education, and was very familiar with young Lorena’s tear-stained face, red with frustration with a sheet of numbers that could only stare back at her. Miss Agatha decided she wouldn’t give Lorena worksheets anymore- it just didn’t work. And when things wouldn’t work, Lorena grew more rotten flowers that wouldn’t go away for days. A lot more made sense when Lorena was diagnosed with ADHD at 14 and she learned how to manage better. No one forget those legendary tantrums, however…

With Lorena’s ability to grow plants and flowers around her, it was sometimes that the flowers would grow inside her if her emotions went out of check. So the tantrums and the fits has to happen less. By the time she was age 15 Lorena was confident it wouldn’t happen again. But things growing on the surface of her body never happened before again… until now. 

That morning after the Gala. Lorena remembered getting home in a silent fury, a disbelief and a great, blazing white anger. How could it be that someone who you swore to protect would be the one who would end up hurting you? Lance. Prince Lance of the Plaid Kingdom. He’d told her the most he’d ever wanted was to see his loved ones succeed. Flash forward one proposal later. She and Maria held a shaking Gwendolyn in their arms, who shrunk into herself as she weeped. They all cried and were left wondering if their father had been right in his caution- for when one of them ached, they all ached together.

Some stupid part of her still saw Suzie as a friend. She wanted to trust her so bad, cause what other friends did she have after that whole thing with Lance? Maybe Suzie was right to point out the conflicts in their goals, because now the gravity of marriage really started to settle in for her. She was so close with going through with it too… she hadn’t even had her own 18th birthday party. Birthdays for the Pastel Kids weren’t big parties or anything, but they felt real special, even compared to the splendor of a Plaid Social Event that was Lance’s birthday party… the very party she met Suzie.

Man.

“Stupid…!” 

“Freakin…!”

“GAHHHH!” She’d hit a fierce jab after jaw-busting uppercut after killer right hook. The punching bag she practiced on seemed more exhausted than she was.

Lorena looked down at her hands and noticed they seemed to be rough and course. Her hands felt… angry, like they wanted to strangle and choke someone- and for a second, she was scared of herself. She needed to tell Molly or Miss Agatha or anyone, in fear that it may happen again. The moment she felt the fear of losing control, the quicker the thorns began to grow, and the rougher her skin became as they clumped up in different areas like tree bark.

Get out, get out, get out!!

The hallway doors burst open as Lorena dashed down the hall.

I want to run, she thought, and she commanded her feet to take her as far away as they could. She had no need for shoes, for the soles of her feet has become rough and coarse and green; like the tough material of tree bark.

Her feelings only grew.

[case-57-with-the-enclosure]

Chapter 5!

of lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) by @definitelynotshouting!

( 1 & 2, 3, and 4 )

as always, be mindful of the content warnings, we're deaddoving here :] be safe and remember you can always come back- sensitive topics might need some cool-down time and that's perfectly fine ♡

===================================

"Grian remembers those words like a thorn in his heart. Another lie, another broken promise; he's full of them these days."

i need to put him in a sock like they do with cats and cradle him to sleep,, poor little man he's gone through so much.

"In the growing afternoon light, Pearl's profile is crowned in dust and swirling gold motes. She still hasn't taken off her hood; the light catches on a patched seam, almost indistinguishable from the rest except for the dark blue thread that stands out like a neatly stitched scar. Something about it makes Grian's stomach curdle, so he casts his gaze back out the window, tracing leaves with a tight knot slowly gnarling in his chest."

ohohohoho the connection between the recently-patched Broken, its association with stitched scars and Knots,, scratches me brain.

"But the emotions swirling beneath the surface taste like ash, feel like fault lines, and make him dizzy with how fast they roil. Like steam without a pressure valve. Riptides without a shore. Something loose and endlessly spinning, that event horizon he'd felt himself circling earlier, spiraling in until it vanishes to a thin, needle point. Pearl is a maelstrom, Grian the eye, and at some point between his ignominious exit from Hermitcraft and subsequent rescue, they'd become two separate storms living as people."

man i love that Pearl's got just, so much going on he can't even differentiate or pinpoint the feelings- the first time reading this paragraph i had to stop the music and pay it twice the attention, bc it felt like the wind of these sentences was repeatedly slapping in my face :]

"Instead, she shifts, a subtle turn-without-turning, and the corner of her eye peeks out from beneath her hood. A thrill runs up his spine; cloaked as it is in shadow, it appears darker than it should. "Did he now," she says, with a soft, tuneless hum."

ª why do i feel like grian's about to get eaten by a wolf help

" 'Hmm, yeah, and we wouldn't want that now, would we?' Pearl replies, and this time her words hold the same razor edge as a diamond sword. "

funny thing that im This Tense at this but when he and mumbo were fighting i was like yes yes literature anomnomnom- the duality of being scared of conflict ig fjsghdsj

"Pearl cocks her head like a bird, still eyeing him from beneath her hood. Then, abruptly, she turns all the way to face him; the sun strikes her full across the bridge of her nose, slashing a line of gold from temple to jaw.¹ Grian startles, jerking back as if shocked before he can force himself still. Her irises are red.²"

1, beatiful!!!

2, ah shit!!

"A dark red, specifically— the colour of wine, of burgundy. Not the eerie glow of a red life, but something dulled down, closer to natural. Without the help of the sun, they could almost pass as brown— but here, they sear, a mixture of bloodied earth and banked embers.

eating the color descriptions up btw, taste oh-so-good

A trickle of ice flows down Grian’s spine as he stares into them, tracing each weaving vein of stroma, and behind his own eyes a dozen memories drenched in scarlet well up to the surface."

ªªªªªªª *googles stroma* ªªªªªªªªª

"In its place is an expression Grian can't parse beneath the crackling smile; something worn, something weary. Something ready to bite down. "Just checking, that's all. I kinda thought the only thing you ate these days were brains.” "

" “Like a zombie,” Pearl adds helpfully, either unaware or uncaring of the way he’s stilled. She makes a playful little growl in the back of her throat, hooks one hand into a claw in front of her face to demonstrate. None of it— not even the honeyed light slipping in through the window— touches her dark, dark irises."

ok im aware its. a lot to him but me personally, im charmed.

"He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out— Grian lies dead in the water, eyes wide and lips working as the writhing mass of emotions emanating from Pearl solidifies into a single, targeted beam. Like a scalpel cutting flesh, it slices clean through anything Grian could possibly say, stripping him down and leaving him raw, vivisected, on the table."

vivisected is such a good word,,

"The raging star in his chest bursts, igniting coal and ashes and flaring embers, and Grian's voice rises with the conflagration. "I WAS STARVING, PEARL!" he shouts, and his ears ring with the echoes. It's an admission he's made before, but not with such force. Grian snarls, chest heaving, wings clawing desperately to rise up and mantle, make him look large. "I've been starving this entire time! From day one of Hermitcraft, I was starving to death, and not one of you even tried to notice!" A sharp spark of pain needles into his palms; it takes him a moment to realize his hands have released the blanket to curl into fists, nails biting down hard enough to draw blood."

YESSSSS EXPLODE LIL BIRD BOY !!!!!!

"His red lives had always been consumed with a haze of blood, of aching, of thirst so potent he could drink and drink and still be greedy. If loneliness had often kept him company, he’d been too busy chasing death to see it."

!!!!!!!!!! If loneliness had often kept him company, he’d been too busy chasing death to see it!!!!!!!!

"(Except once. In a desert with nothing but echoes and a body still bleeding out on the sand behind him: he’d been alone, then. And he’d choked on it, suffocated; teetered between two gravities before tipping his center to the one that promised home, in any form or fashion. Anything to escape the shackles he himself had crafted, had burdened himself with. Grian remembers that. And Grian will do everything in order to forget.)"

i,, i need a moment to curl up and perhaps cry a little

"I'm fine, stop trying to babysit me, and let's all focus on getting Grian—" His voice cracks on the last syllable; Mumbo has to clear it a few times before continuing, rough and uncoordinated, "Let's just focus on getting Grian better, so then we can take him home.""

:C <3

"Scar winces theatrically. "Mumbo? Yeah… not sure what's gotten into him, poor guy, but he hasn't been acting like himself at all. He's been all sorts of crazy since yesterday. Oh! But don't you worry—" Scar's stiff smile melts into something a little more genuine, rounded at the edges; his gaze is warm, sparkling, as he lifts one hand to hesitantly place it on Grian's forearm. The contact burns right through him, but Grian doesn't flinch; this is Scar."

grian-centric fics got me sighing and twirling my hair at this man honestly- lord have mercy it is contagious

"One promise, he thinks, with an edge of desperation so urgent and pleading it resounds through his head like a scream. Just let me keep one promise before I go. Please."

WELP orz

====================================

Closing Thoughts:

:C i am emotionally devastated

can't wait !!! to read how it progresses!!!!! im very curious about the potion-plan, if he's gonna get close to fully putting it in motion or if he's gonna have a bit of an eye-opener in the following chapters.

also fascinated by the use of the comms, they're one of my favorite things about minecraft fiction! how much are they responsible for? if he doesn't have an inventory without them, can't see the chat without them- i need to design little technologies for my comics asap

overall: devastated and inspired, 10/10

[eg-writtenthoughts]

My 2022 Reads & Thoughts

As a writer, I don’t have the time to read as much as I’d like. Determined to not feel like I’m completely missing out on something else I love, I gave myself the goal of 12 books in 2022. I was able to meet that goal. At some points, I didn’t read one book a month. Some months, I didn’t read at all. Others, I read an entire series back to back. This post is coming almost a year late, making all of my comments based on memory (with a little Googling for characters I no longer remember).

The twelve books were, not in order:

Blood of Elves (The Witcher, book 1) - Andrzej Sapkowski

A Court of Thorns and Roses - Sarah J. Maas

Throne of Glass - Sarah J. Maas

Ugly Love - Colleen Hoover

A Court of Wings and Ruin - Sarah J. Maas

A Court of Mist and Fury - Sarah J. Maas

Grey (Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian) - E L James

Darker (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian) - E L James

Freed (Fifty Shades as told by Christian) - E L James

These Hollow Vows - Lexi Ryan

These Twisted Bonds - Lexi Ryan

The Cruel Prince (The Folk of the Air, book 1) - Holly Black

At the bottom of my list, was The Cruel Prince by Holly Black. This is the first book  I put on my DNF list which broke my heart. Growing up I read The Spiderwick Chronicles by Black and Tony DiTerlizzi. It was my favourite series and what introduced me to Urban Fantasy. It was a pivotal point to my childhood because it really made a base for me. I went into The Cruel Prince fairly open minded, but I did have expectations. Fairy/Fae fantasy hasn’t been a genre that’s enticed me. I couldn’t tell you why. I love vampires, werewolves, witches, etc. Fairy/Fae hasn’t caught my attention in the same way. When I began The Cruel Prince, it didn’t draw me in. The main character, Jude was unlikable and I had a hard time finding a hook within it to grab. I always look for an unexpected romance but the abuse from Cardan just wasn’t worth wanting a change. And honestly, that’s all I remember. Maybe I’ll try to read it again one day, only because I hold Black on a podium in my head, but it won’t be in 2023.

Next, is Ugly Love by Colleen Hoover. I’m ignoring the controversy that’s come from Hoover and her personal life between the time I read this book and now. I know Hoover is at the peak of her writing career right now and Ugly Love is considered one of her must read books. But, I couldn’t stand it. From what I’ve been told, Hoover has a tendency to touch on heavy topics within her book. Just from this one book, I do not think she has the writing ability to execute these kinds of topics well or with dignity. With no spoilers, Ugly Love has a character trauma that Hoover writes the situation at an surface level of emotions. I didn’t feel anything while reading it. There was suspense of what happened to Miles as you read but it absolutely did not satisfy. It was like hitting a speed bump and for once, it blew out the tire of your car. This might be the only book I’ve returned after reading because of how disappointed I was. Thankfully, the employee at the bookstore agreed with me. I felt vindicated.

Blood of Elves by Andrzej Sapkowski is a book I enjoyed but have a very specific, personal thought about. When it comes to a series, I prefer each book to have its own storyline that also contributes to the overall story. For example, the Harry Potter saga. Blood of Elves however, felt like it was just the starting point of one storyline. It didn’t have a distinctive storyline that was for it alone. It felt long without a satisfying conclusion. The only reason I haven’t entirely put the book in my negative bookshelf in my mind is that I know Henry Cavill is a fan that led him to playing Geralt. So there must be something great about it. It’s also spun off a very successful video game series. I’d be willing to give Blood of Elves another chance, but I would need to be in a cottage, relaxing with the rest of the series with nothing to distract me.

Lumping the next together, is the duology These Hollow Vows and These Twisted Bonds by Lexi Ryan. If I was to rate the duology as one single book, out of five, I’d give it a 3. The first book, These Hollow Vows was a good book but felt like it was missing something. Maybe it had to do with Ryan’s desire to put the story into two books, the first one was just less. Until the end! The end was that amazing cliff hanger where the heroine is shown to be a badass. I loved These Twisted Bonds. It was a swell of the storyline and I felt like I was racing towards the end. The plot wasn’t fleshed out entirely, since I felt like the Queen wasn’t met enough to have her really feel like the villain. The conclusion was satisfying and truly, I didn’t know who the main character would end up with. I’d like to do a re-read just to enjoy the love triangle again.

At the top of my 2022 bookshelf, the books that surprised me the most were Grey, Darker, and Freed by E. L. James. I read the original trilogy (more than once) and I find it a guilty pleasure. It’s a quick read trilogy and decent enough to quiet my brain. It was the first romance only book(s) I’ve read. Similarly to Midnight Sun by Stephanie Meyers, the change of perspective, made the story significantly better and more appealing to me. The trauma Christian brings to the story is enticing in a way that naive Ana didn’t have. You genuinely root for Christian and his growth and success. I definitely will re-read this trilogy.

And finally, the first three ACOTAR books and Throne of Glass. I genuinely don’t remember much about Throne of Glass, other than the fact I fell to my urges and googled how the relationships go throughout the series. I’ll be the first to admit that spoilers don’t bother me 95% of the time. I wasn’t a fan of the results and that’s what stopped me from reading more. I plan on trying again to read them, most likely at the end of 2023 or in 2024. I will say, I’m displeased about the cover change. I own the first three books in the 2nd released covers, where Celaena Sardothien is featured. That’s too many for me not to want the rest in that cover. The new ones are nice, but I don’t want to have to re-buy them. 

A Court of Thorns and Roses may be the only Fae books I’ve ever immersed myself into. It’s been a very long time since I’ve fallen into a series/universe that I want to ingest over and over again, especially from a new author. Falling in love with characters (especially Azriel) is a happy and personal feeling. I cried during A Court of Wings and Ruin, from the comradery and love that the characters share, which I don’t do often. Yes, there was a hint of a love triangle in the beginning which always tugs at my attention, but Feyre and Rhys were beautiful. The demise of Tamlin was an incredible side plot that I could hear more about. Maas really knows how to keep her readers actively reading. ACOTAR being a Beauty and the Beast retelling was a great starting point for the series. I read A Court of Frost and Starlight this year and that review is to come. I haven’t read A Court of Silver Flames and that’s from pure stubbornness. I love Feyre’s point of view and yes, Nesta is incredible and her love story with Cassian is intense but I’m picky. From my own opinion, I don’t think this should’ve been a part of ACOTAR but its own independent series. Unless the entire series is jumping POVs, it makes it weird for me. I will definitely be re-reading this series again at some point. The fanfiction online satisfies me for now.

I’m not unhappy with my reading choices for 2022. There were a few that I didn’t like, but we all have to read stuff we don’t like. I know which author I don’t plan on reading again. As an author myself, it really opens my eyes to what audiences are reading and what I like. I know how to focus myself and my plot lines, not going off on wild adventures where I won’t be satisfied with the conclusion. 

[deejadabbles]

I JUST READ YOUR BLERB ON MANA AND I LOVE HER

Also👀👀👀👀 I am shipping her with 👀👀👀👀 Fives 😌

I wish to know the extent of the beautiful trouble they could create 💜

I'm so glad you like her! I'll make a proper post for her sometime but you guys are also helping me see her in different ways I hadn't thought of before and I'm loving it 😍

Okay I'm getting huge Friends to lover vibes with them! I already headcanoned them as having a fast connection the first time she teams up with the 501st, so now I'm hooked on the idea that they get closer and closer until they realize that they have deeper feelings than just friendship 🥹

Definitely a chaotic duo (and if Echo's there, chaotic trio) but they have a surprising balance to their relationship! Like, he brings out her playful side but also helps her see things in a ways she hadn't before. For example, one moment they're thinking of harmless ways to poke at other members of the 501st, then the next moment they're talking about clone rights and person-hood. She's worked with clones before but Fives and his very outspoken way of thinking makes her see the perspective of clones in a different and much deeper way and she's very appreciative of that.

In turn I think Fives would like her....moral flexibility. The fact that she still has very strong beliefs but that they don't necessarily adhere to whatever the lawmakers say is lawful at the time. She'll follow her own code of ethics, one that values life and freedom, and no one can tell her any different, and I think he'd like that about her since he's also one to question the rules of his upbringing.

But there's still plenty of fun to be had between the deeper discussions of morality and freedom. They specifically make it their mission to annoy Rex so much that he cracks a smile and admits that he likes their chaos. They also become a lovable thorn in Echo's side when they start pinning all their antics in him based solely on the fact that he always has a perfect and amazing explanation/excuse to get out of the trouble.

Another cute scenario: Mana has a huge collection of holovids in her databank and will absolutely host movie nights on her ship when it's docked in the hanger bay of the resolute. Fives gets into the habit of getting to those events early so he can sit next to her ("oh noooo everyone else claimed your blankets, it looks like we'll have to share this one, mesh'la"). And together they're always trying to find ways to help Torrent company destress between missions.

Even when they're apart they're still close and become penpals, sending each other messages and holo-letters (is that a thing?) whenever they have a free moment. In fact I think it's that time apart that makes them both realize they love each other as more than friends, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. They may still hold off on confessing for awhile because it doesn't feel like the right time, Mana especially would hold back her feelings, partly because she's afraid the war will take him the way her family was taken from her, but also because she knows he always has so much on his plate and doesn't want to add to it. In the end it would have to be Fives who confesses and I think he may do it in a super spontaneous and impulsive moment that's still tender and romantic 🥺

Omg okay I'm a little soft for these two now ! 😭

[legendtraineremily]

Foreword for the post: When writing characters and giving them depth, I like to use a little method I was given a few years ago—write a mock “Q&A” bit with your character and see how they’d react to certain questions.

Here is my wood-elf barbarian lady’s Q&A. She wants so hard to be seen as this tough warrior woman when honestly she could just be herself and do fine. Another point of context for her speech patterns is that for the wood-elf community she was raised in, anything to do with toads was seen as an obscenity. Without further ado, I present Elowina Ravencrest’s Q&A. (Bolded text indicates the interviewer.)

So Elowina, you seem to love breaking gender and cultural norms-

-Well, duh! I just love breaking things in general. Though I much prefer cracking skulls and breaking ribs, either with “Squishy” or my bare hands.

That’s, um, nice…but what we were asking was, how has your background affected what groups you’ve been able to join and be accepted in?

-Oh. Well, it was rough, like painful, ya’ know? A buncha groups are all “oh, a woman? An elf woman? Ha ha, yeah you can clean our clothes when we’re done and sing us a song or grow some flowers. You’re a Druidic bard, right?”

Uh-huh, yeah. Um, hate to “break” it to ya’, but I’m a raging warrior with a giant hammer! Do I look like I play a song and do some voodoo magic…with a hammer?! So to prove my point, I’ve had to beat some toad-brains up.

Fascinating. So what lead you into your warrior ways?

-I don’t like talkin’ about it much. Some dumb voodoo druid decided to play a party trick for the kids in my home village and messed up. I was picking thorns and berries out of my hair and clothes for weeks! Stupid little toad…

Oh, my! Well, you seem to be happy with your life now.

-Oh yeah! No better place than the open air, and nothing but your strength and will power to keep you alive! Although an inn and a good, well-earned ale ain’t too bad either. Ha!

Many people are also curious about your preferred weapon…

-What? Squishy? It’s only the best warhammer ever to grace the face of many an enemy! Picked it off the body of a hobgoblin I killed way back when I was just starting out in the mercenary business. Much more fun to use than trying to slash through armor with a sword or poke it with an spear. Anyway, smashing stuff in is my favorite way to deal with problems. Well, that and, according to Izzy, “repressing that negativity until it boils over into rage.” And honestly, that just leads to more smashing with Squishy so it all works out.

How has your experience with the Gaggle of Fools been different than other bands and groups?

-Well, big thing, this: they actually respect me. Even that old voodoo man, Izzy, gets that I’m not all into that magic stuff and acts real nice towards me. Heh, he even keeps some more real medicine just for me! Then there’s the boys, Arvad and Donel. Sweet guys, sometimes a little toad brained, but sweet. And Uram…they’re weird. All holy monk and that, but with a punch like a hammer to the face! Then…Aly. Nice girl. I can barely stand her “holier than thou” attitude, but she’s got a good, strong arm in battle and a mean right hook (trust me).

Is there anything else you’d like people to know about you?

-Stop. Flirting. With Me. Ya’ toad brains! If I ain’t interested, I ain’t interested. And I’ll let you know if I ain’t interested, too! So lay off, ya’ toading creeps!

Thank you, Elowina. Much appreciated.

[icarusthelunarguard]

This Week’s Horrible-Scopes

It’s time for this week’s Horrible-Scopes! So for those of you that know your Astrological Signs, cool! If not, just pick one, roll a D12, or just make it up as you go along. It really doesn’t matter.

This week’s inspiration is going back to its roots - hitting SHUFFLE on the giant music collection and seeing what comes of it. So with nothing more to explain, here we go!

Aries 

Your song is “Bohemian Rhapsody”, originally performed by the legendary group ‘Queen’... except it’s played by a 100+ year old organ, like what you’d expect in the center of a classic carrossel. Before you think it would sound bad, SHAME ON YOU! Imagine everyone on the ride suddenly singing full throat, finishing the song just as the ride finishes. This week, find out where your country fair is and go ride the rides. Just don’t eat the Fried Coke Syrup. (Yes, that’s a ‘Thing’.) 

Taurus 

We have a classic live performance for you this week; Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble performing “Pride and Joy”. Yes, it’s The Blues. Yes, it’s as predictable as every other blues song, but damn if it doesn’t get your toes tappin’ and your booty slappin’! This week replace your office chair with an inflatable office chair ball. You’ll thank us later.

Gemini  

Oh, NIFTY! Instead of a normal song, you get a piece of symphonic orchestral music: “New and Improved” from the 2004 movie “The Incredibles”. It starts just as the Omnidroid attacks Mister Incredible in the meeting room and continues through Syndrome’s monologue. This week re-watch that movie and realize… the helicopter crash that Frozone sees outside his apartment is the same one from the end credits scene of “Avengers: Infinity War”. 

Cancer Moon-Child 

We bring you to 1982 and the late-great Eddie Money’s “Think I’m In Love”. He was a cop in New York City, but quit because he wasn’t allowed to grow his hair long, and he got kicked out of the band he was in because they didn’t want a cop in the group. So this week just check out how screwed you can be from all sides and do the only logical action: quit everything and move to California.  

Leo 

Talk about a Left Turn at Albuquerque! Your song is Rihanna’s “SOS Rescue Me”. It’s got the unmistakable electro-synth “BOO-BOO!” from Soft Cell’s “Tainted Love” in the rhythm track. It’s not a cover song by any stretch, but it does rely heavily on that hook and the lyrics. This week look around and realize how much you’ve been influenced by people all around you, and be grateful for it.

Virgo 

Not only are we going to give you a song to remember, we’re gunna prove that you know how to dance, even just a little. Your song is NSync’s 2000’s hit “Bye Bye Bye”. Pick up your hand, hold it in the Kermit The Frog position, and open and close his mouth three times as you say “Bye Bye Bye.” See? You’ll be winning talent contests in no time. This week, find an elementary school holding open tryouts for a talent show, but don’t be disappointed if they turn you away.

Libra 

Let’s haul out the 8-Track player and pop in Booker T. & the M.G.’s 1969 hit single “Time Is Tight” - and before you say you don’t know it, you HUSH! You TOTALLY know this song! Back in 1980 it was the opening vamp at the Palace Hotel Ballroom just before The Blues Brothers performed on stage! This week… fix the cigarette lighter.  

Scorpio 

Sorry, but you’re not getting a specific song. Instead we’re giving you an entire band and for good reason. So, Riddle Me This, Scorpio! What do you get when your married band members get divorced, but stay together for the sake of the band - and attack each other with some of the greatest hits in music for over a decade? You get Fleetwood Mac! This week keep your animosity with your photo editing software to a low simmer.

Sagittarius 

(GROAN!) We’re going back to 1982– AND NOT BY CHOICE! This damned song has been a perennial thorn in our sides since it was first released… because no matter how many weddings we all go to we can’t escape the damned thing! That damned OOM-PAH song.. “The Bird Dance” by The Emeralds! Yes, you know what song that is - stop saying you like it. It is objectively HORRID! The same way that Liverwurst is only eaten by children because they don’t yet realize how truly horrid it is. This week buy a copy of that album… and leave it in your car, in the sun, so it melts into a puddle.

Capricorn 

We want to know… what was the musical group named Scooter, smoking in 2001? ‘Cause they did some weird-assed, mad-whacked remix of “The Logical Song” by Supertramp and called it “Ramp!” The problem is they make the singer sound like Alvin from The Chipmunks, and not in a way that makes it an enjoyable listen. This week buy some classic 1975 paper car speakers and run unrectified 110v 60Hz Mains Power into them, just to punish the world for having that song existing.

Aquarius 

We already touched on this band appearing in this list. So for you we’re bringing on Supertramp’s song From Now On recorded live in concert. The song isn’t super-memorable, but it’s a 7 Minute long track. As for as live song performances are concerned, that’s not bad at all. It’s not like it’s a quarter-hour jam session by King Crimson, just because they can. This week remember - you’re not NEARLY as long-winded as you think you are. That’s a good thing!

Pisces  

Oh, Pisces, this one’s gunna hurt. The randomizer brought us to a fixed point in space-time that’s been seared into the collective hearts and psychies of every youngster of the Mid-80’s. For you we are presenting “Dare” by Stan Bush.. straight off the original, AND ONLY CANON TRANSFORMERS’ MOVIE! Yes, Leonard Nimoy was in it. And Orson Wells, we know, we know. So was Weird Al, but… and we say this with all the hate and bile we’ve collected for 40 years… SCREW YOU, RHODIMUS PRIME! This week, Pisces… It's the Information Age. Find the Studio Executives in the U.S. who authorized the death of Optimus Prime… and strike FEAR in their hearts!

And THOSE are your Horrible-Scopes for this week! Remember if you liked what you got, we’re obviously not working hard enough at these. BUT! If you want a better or nastier one for your own sign or someone else’s, all you need to do to bribe me is just Let Me Know! These will be posted online at the end of each week via Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook and Discord.

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝘋𝘦𝘶𝘴 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘵. 🥀

yandere! Mikaela Hyakuya.

When was the last time he felt like this? When did he finally start to feel his dead heart come back to life once again? He often finds himself cursing under his breath whenever he spots the object of his affections, deep thorns decorate his bleeding heart the more his gaze lingers on your form - you are so sweet. He feels addicted to you but he wants to be as far away from you as much as possible. The way his heart starts to throb is irresistible, he can feel your scent all the way across the room. He’s seething, he is beyond himself, can’t you tell that you are putting yourself in danger by merely existing? He steers clear from you, for a while, but his mind wanders. How are you, what are you doing, who are you with, these are all questions that plauge his mind like crazy. He does not realize what he is feeling or why he feels this way and he loathes you for it. 

Your relationship with him would depend whether or not you knew him as a child, or he met you later on in life.

If you knew him back in the day. he remembers you fondly. He has a cute little puppy crush on you, his favorite playmate. The rest of his siblings would get a little jealous because he paid too much attention to you, and they would often come complaining to him. He would always brush them off with a sweet smile, but he didn’t regret it that much. As a child that never really felt any sort of love he grew addicted to you, he felt as though he could not function as a human being if you were not around him. Soft blue eyes would trail after you, bright and dangerous curiosity would gleam in them as he watched you play with the other kids, petty jealousy consuming his more rational mind. He knew that feeling this way was irrational but that is the thing with human beings, they are indeed irrational creatures. The heart wants what it wants, and his own commands him to watch over you, to take care of you. It is his duty to shower you and his family with unconditional love, to protect you from the ever growing darkness that continues to swallow the world whole. It’s surreal how bad his chest pains get whenever he thinks about you, but he would not trade it for anything in the world. Salty tears prickle the corners of his pretty eyes, heart swelling with joy to see you smile again - it really is one of the few reasons that keeps him going you know. Even as a vampire he yearns for you and your presence, everything he does he has you in mind. He will be a bit more lenient and forgiving towards you because he knows you so well, but it is in Mikaela’s nature to panic so don’t expact too much from him. He is still a greedy child after all.

If he meets you after the world has ended there will be some changes in his attitude.

He isn’t as soft with you, not as much as he would like to be. You either caught his eye because you keep pestering him, play with a lot of children, or he saw you with Yuu once. Regardless, the thing that gets him hooked in the first place is your kindness, your soft nature, you determination to stay soft in a world that is going to chew you up without any remorse and spit you back out like a piece of garbage. You deserve that, he thinks to himself. Who in their right mind would ever allow themselves to act the way you do? For God’s sake just how stupid are you? He can feel the bile rising up at the back of his throat just thinking about it. For the sake of his own curiosity, he follows you around, he watches your every move. He can feel the anger bubbling up inside of him as he watches from the shadows, conversing with other people. They are all going to use you and toss you aside, why can’t you see that?! A feeling akin to putrid acid consumes his very being, he wants to kill you. He wants to drain you dry, he wants to see the light fade from your eyes, if your death was already written in the stars the least he could do was to give you a quick, merciful death.

At that very moment, just when it feels that his anger has almost consumed him, he realizes that he is head over heels in love with you.

Enemy, ally, none of that matter to him. Maybe he cornered you somewhere and decided to make his dreams into a reality. You are shaking beneath him, pleading for your life. Just when his fingers brush up against the softness of your flesh his arm recoils in horror. He can’t do that to you, you don’t deserve that. A tidal wave of emotions rush through him, all of which are even more conusing then the next. You are human, you are weak, you are precious.

Precious to him.

He can’t lose you.

[plush-rabbit]

Thorn In Your Mouth

Request: I'm not quite sure if requests are open, but if they are, may I please request some nsfw noncon with Lucifer or Satan from obey me with a fem! MC?

They're demons, and they love quite differently from humans. One could say their love is overly suffocating and affectionate…

Warning: Noncon

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: i think i made him more jealous in this so,,, hope you like it??

-

It was sweet at first to have Satan fret over you, to care for you in such a way that made you feel safe, but you soon learned that you craved your space, that you missed whenever you could just go out without having to worry about him getting angry at you. He might have directed his wrath towards you at first, but it was never in this way, never in such a jealousy, overwhelming way that you made you grit your teeth and glare at his back. A part of you knows that this is what you signed up for- he’s a demon, one born out of wrath no less, but you didn’t want that to cloud you. You wanted to see the good in him. But even so, he’s still a demon- a possessive one that fears losing you more than anything.

“Where were you?” He asks, his voice steady and eyes piercing into yours. “I tried calling you but-” he tilts his head and an uncomfortable grin pulls at his lips- “you didn’t answer.”

You’re tired of it all. You’re exhausted and just want to borrow a book that could help you sleep. You’re the one to break eye contact with him fist, turning around and rubbing your hand over your neck. “I don’t know Satan, I was just out with friends.” You grab at a book, the title written in thin letters and eager to be done with the conversation, you accept it. “It’s no biggie.” It shouldn’t be and it isn’t. And yet, anxiety still plagues your body.

The exit is near, the doors closed and the light in the hallway, a dim glow signaling that it is indeed time for bed. You make your way, only to be halted by Satan’s hand wrapping around your wrist. “It is a ‘biggie’-” he quotes, annoyance a sliver on his tongue- “when you don’t tell me where or who you’re going out with.” His grip tightens on you and your hand grows stiff, a twinge of fear pooling against your stomach. “What if you were hurt? What then?” You narrow your eyes at him and feebly try to pull away your arm from him. He doesn’t relent. “Where were you?”

Finding it much easier to just tell the truth and get it over with, you sigh. “I was out with friends, Satan. Some imps and incubi from the seventh period. You know them,” you add, hoping that it’ll jog his memory and remind him that it’s mutual friends that he’s so worried about. “We went to the mall and got some ice cream there.”

“Multiple people you went out with then, huh.” You raise your brows, your eyes glancing back to where your wrist is held in his hand. “And if I am their friend- as you say- then why wasn’t I invited?”

You shrug, giving him a puzzled stare. “I don’t know. You weren’t in class. You had some lunch to go to with those friends of yours. We’ll invite you next time.” You yank at your wrist, only to be met with a tighter hold. “Satan. Let go.”

“Do you love me?” He asks, the tension in the room is lost on him and you look at him with an incredulous look, surprised that he would even ask you that at a time like this. “Because I love you. I’m a good partner. I listen and I kiss you and yet, you go around with a group of demons and do who-knows-what while I sit at home waiting for you to come back.”

The meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. Your arm is stretched, extended out as he still holds a grip on you but you need the distance as slight as it may be. “Are you implying that I cheated on you?” He doesn’t respond and stays with his eyes locked on yours. “Satan, I went out with friends. That’s it! Nothing more and nothing less. What the actual fuck.” You take a deep breath and shake your head, the book now discarded on the table beside you. “You know what? Just let go. We can talk about this tomorrow. I’m not in the mood right now.” Your eyes catch at the underside of the door where the light remains steady, the yellow glow teasing at you where freedom lies. “Satan, you’re hurting me.” You hope that that is enough to make him realize what he’s doing.

You’re pushed over the edge of the table, your stomach painfully pressing against the edge of the wood. Your hands flail for a moment, patting and scratching against the table, your legs tense as you call his name, anger evident in your voice. “What the fuck is your problem?” You hiss out, your palms against the table only to be pulled away and grabbed in his hands. “Satan,” you call his name, worry and fear intertwining together. He remains silent, the heel of his shoe clicking against the floor as he presses himself close to you, his groin pressed against your rear. “Satan, what the fuck are you doing?”

There's a crackle of energy that fills your ear, a popping sound akin to Black Cats, the smell of mahogany and citrus in the air as his hands tighten around you. Skin slips away, a harsh press against the back of your head as you’re pushed into the warming wood, and you’re frozen in fead. The room, while devoid of talk, is filled with noise- the buzzing of the electricity, the cracking of his tail and the deep breaths that he takes, the high sound of his zipper becoming undone and the clicking of his shoes. The noise is driving you insane, blood in your ears as you gasp out his name, trying to turn your head, but only being able to face the wall, and you catch a g,impe of yourself in a mirror, faced down with a demon towering behind you.

“You know that I love you, right?” Something sharp replaces where his hands used to be, thorns piercing into your tender skin as you feel his hands hook on the waistband of your jeans. Your breath stops, and something heavy pools on your tongue. “I do everything right by you and yet-” his nails scratch against your skin- “you treat me like trash. You treat me as if I don’t matter.” Cold air meets your warm skin and you’re left in your underwear and shirt, your sex covered by thin fabric. “Do I not matter to you?” He says your name and it isn’t something sweet, it isn’t something that makes you feel warm. It’s something that sounds too foul to be said out loud. He’s ruined your name in just one simple sentence.

“You matter Satan,” you whisper, clenching your sex. Your eyes are unmoving, watching your distant reflection that has a monster behind you, their hands on your underwear and tearing it from your body. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard to your ears. “Satan, sweetheart, please. Let’s talk, okay? Please.”

“Then why didn’t you pick up my calls?” The tip of his cock is pressed against your thigh, something cool leaking down your leg in a slimy trail. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going out? Were you keeping it a secret from me?” You shake your head, rubbing along the wood and his hand returns to your head, yanking at your hair and pulling on the strands until you rise and are brought on your knees before him. “No? Really? You’re going to lie to me?”

His erection is close to you, close enough to feel the heat, to see how the tip leaks with his pearling semen. “I’m not-”

“If you’re going to lie, then I'd rather just put your mouth to better use.” He grabs your face, dark green scales that run along his body and trail at his thighs. Your nose is pushed against the underside of his cock, his ridges pressing into you and semen already leaking onto your hairline. His scent is strong, suffocating as he pulls you back, your mouth opening when he twists at your hair, a sharp scream that is soon muffled by his cock entering your mouth. “Make sure you get it wet enough. It’s my cock that I’m going to stick in your little holes.”

Wasting no time, you’re pushed to the base of his cock, your nose buried in his pubic hair. He holds you there, letting his cockhead drip down your throat with his heavy semen. Your tongue is pressed flat against the underside of his ridges, the pointed end of his cock ticking at the back of your throat as he starts to move.

It’s a slow choking motion, his cock filling your mouth only to empty it in a way that makes you feel dumb enough to breathe. Every breath is stuck, lodged in the back of your throat and leaving you a choking mess against his cock. He wastes no time, holding the sides of your head and pushing himself inside of you, using your mouth as his own toy.

Each thrust of his cock has your stomach rising, acid billowing in the base of your throat, his scent and cologne mixing together to overstimulate yourself. Your name is whispered, a soft prayer under his tongue as he deflies your mouth, semen spilling and filling your mouth, tears that sting against your eyes and drip past your chin. It’s harsh, and unforgiving and in your head you curse him and plead to whatever God there is, that he’ll let you live and walk away, that this is some horrific nightmare to make you into a follower. You choke and cy, your throat constricting and face becoming hot, shame and horror flooding throughout your body and you’re left sobbing against his cock.

His hands are rough, nothing like you know them to be, his words soft as ever and yet, you’re still pushed down to the table with your jaw slack and drool dripping down your chin and tears mixing with the heavy liquid. Your mouth is stained with his semen, white bubbling out past your lips as you meet your reflection once more. Your legs are spread and you can only think of saying his name, to have your hands paw pitifully at the table as you call him through a broken mantra.

You’re glad that you listened to him, that you did get his cock wet enough to slip in you without fuss. It’s a slight pinch, sharp and twisting inside of you as your thrusted into, your chest pressed against the wooden table. Everything is on high alert, all your senses overloaded as your sex is filled, ridges tickling inside your walls. Each thrust clicks, a wet snap as he pushes himself inside of you, his tail wrapping around your throat and yanking you upwards, a string of drool snaps against your chin as it’s ripped from the desk. The tip of his tail is thick, filling your mouth as it rests on your tongue, the edges poking against the inside of your cheeks. You’re lifted, your legs bent and resting on the table as he pushes inside of you, your cunt fluttering against him as his base thickens, warm seed coating your walls.

He pulls out of you, and you whisper a soft thank you, your head turning, the red wood clouding your vision. You ignore the feeling of his hand that crawls over your rear, that tickles against your curve and pushes against your taint.

“No, no,” you moan, your body weak and in pain to stop him from continuing. Not like this Satan, please.” But he’s too overwhelmed to listen to you, pressing the slender tip of his cock against the rim of your hole and pushing inside of you.

You squeal and it’s enough for him to push himself inside of you, each curve and ridge filling and marking the inside of you. Your body spasms, your cunt warm and dripping with his semen. His tail pushes deeper inside of you, choking you and letting you taste your spit and his seed that still lingers.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he whispers hotly against the shell of your ear. “Please,” he begs, holding your body as he enters you. His teeth sink into your shoulder, the pain twisting together leaving you tense and biting on his tail, your tongue pressed firmly against a ridge.

“It hurts,” you mewl, your hands cupping over your breasts to stop the shameful movement. “‘M sorry,” you mumble, your tongue swishing over his tail. With you being stretched, you can feel him in certain areas that makes your body tense and flex. Despite the uncaring nature, you still react to him, shaking and tightening yourself around him, calling his name as you drool over his tail and onto your shirt.

“I love you,” Satan mutters, “I love you,” he repeats, holding you close to him, feeling his heart pump against your back, feeling it rattle against you. “I love you,” he whispers against your ear, his breath hot and words sweet enough to make tears spring to your eyes. He thrusts inside of you, his arms hooking under your knees and horns grazing and picking up strands of your hair as he presses harsh kisses against his bite mark.

You can feel his seed, hot and heavy, flooding inside of your walls and drenching past your heated core, staining the floor beneath you and splattering onto the table legs. With a quick glance, your eyes are strained and your thin arousal mixes in with his semen, coating at his cock and leaving your cunt in syrupy strands. Your legs are lowered, too strained and weak, your latch onto the desk, your bottom lip trembling as you try to remain steady.

Cotton fills your mind, a drug that is welcomed as the ache in your lower regions start to sharpen and dull. Colors mix and the slightest movement has you closing your mouth tightly, your hands already grasping around his neck and clinging to him for dear life. “Don’t drop me,” you plead in a delicate voice, turning to press your nose against his chest.

His hum is deep in his chest, rumbling softly like a distant storm that lulls you to sleep. His hands are soft, rubbing over the parts where he hits, and shushing you when you let out a high-pitched whine. His lips press against your forehead and his hands are soft. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, humming as he nuzzles his face close to yours. “Are you tired?” You nod. “Then let’s go to sleep, okay?”

[thenovelartist]

ABC Fluff Headcanons - Vyn Richter - Tears of Themis

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

If this was a fairytale, it would be Beauty and the Beast. Except he was simply the Beast and you were his magic rose he got to watch bloom. But instead of watching you under glass, he preferred it to be removed, even if it shredded your innocence in the process, but oh, watching you grow anyways, both blooming beautifully while growing fierce thorns to warn anyone before they touch, just to spite the adversity you were faced with was his truest pleasure. Your fortitude; that was what he truly admired about you.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

You’d think it’s your eyes, being the windows to the soul and all. But you’d be wrong; it’s your hands. Specifically, your tender touch. It’s gentle, warm, and safe. Being able to hold your hand feels intimate for him, and he actually enjoys when you tap his arm to get his attention, then let your hand linger when he gives it. It’s like a reward and a comfort all in one.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He does enjoy a good cuddle, but hugging you from behind might be his favorite. Whether sitting together on the couch with you on his lap or spooning you in bed, he likes when he can nuzzle the side of your head or rest his chin on your shoulder.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

He will have planned this to a T because he’s not much for spontaneity. And it would involve a walk together, flowers, and he will either have made you a dessert or the two of you will make something together. It’s something quiet and intimate for you to enjoy time together, talking about anything and nothing while the date is riddled with affectionate touches and some kisses.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Good grief, this man’s emotions are… complicated. He’s very logical, but he’s not ignorant to his emotions. It doesn’t seem like it, but he frequently tempers them, only to bring them up again in full when he records his diary so that he’s able to manage them.

But you have ruined him. His carefully kept emotional balance has been thrown to the wind. You make him feel intensely and strongly, to the point it almost trumps his logic, which makes him uncomfortable. His diaries have been getting longer as his inner turmoil increases, and that’s all your fault. It’s something you notice, too, watching his even temperament waver more and more frequently around you as the emotion inside him wars with his rationality. You will have to give this man time. Time to open up and be honest with himself, and you, about his emotions. Be prepared to validate his emotions in his moments of weakness. It’s the only way he’ll get better about honestly expressing them to you.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He wouldn’t be opposed to staying childless. He also wouldn’t be opposed to having a child, and you could probably talk him into two if the first goes well. Little humans would be fascinating studies, after all. (“Dear, do not psycho-analyze the children.”)

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He does not care for trinkets. Nor does he care about giving you them. Gifts should be practical.

At least… that’s what he likes to think. His one exception to this is when he gives you something to wear. It’s his way of marking you and wearing it will spark a possessive streak in him.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He likes—no, needs to be either touching or holding your hand in quiet, private moments. And he wants to hold your hand when he’s jealous. Especially when he’s jealous. And you know when he is because he holds tight as though reminding you that you’re his while also sending passive-aggressive signals to the cause of his jealousy. When you’re just out walking, he will sometimes hold your hand, but he also likes when you loop your hands over his elbow and he can escort you like a proper gentleman. (It also causes you to pull yourself in close to him, so he actually quite enjoys when you do that.)

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Depends. Minor cuts or burns are treated with care and, occasionally, a kiss. Get into an accident, and he gets shockingly worried about you. However, if you end up hurt because of a reason to do with NXX, he’ll be sick with emotions. Guilt, fear, anger; all of them brew for a deadly concoction. He will not rest, even to the point of abusing his own body, until he finds the person who hurt you and sees to it they are paying dearly for their crime.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

He doesn’t always joke around, but when he does… this man is a wicked tease. Don’t expect to get off the hook easily. You better learn how to tease back, or he’ll use words and puzzles to twist you exactly where he wants you, which normally is you as a blushing, stuttering mess.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Sweet kisses off-the-cuff are quite nice, and so are the passionate ones, but the ones he likes best are the slow, lingering ones that take place hidden away in your own world. They convey so much with no words. There’s no frantic holding or clinginess. Rather, it feels like a moment of security, coming together and staying. He likes the comfort they provide him and the way they actually settle his heart.

L = Love Confession (how do they confess?)

He actually was super nervous to confess. He’ll have practiced and planned this confession before it happens. Which you never would have guessed because it was in such a smooth conversation during one of your outings that he admitted he held feelings of a romantic nature for you.

M = Marriage (What does the wedding look like?)

He wants it small, intimate, and preferably outdoors in a garden. He wants it nice but not overly fancy. He won’t fuss over the smaller details. Besides, he doesn’t realize it yet, but he will barely remember anything beyond how utterly stunning you look in your wedding dress, anyway.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

He hates being a failure, but if he’s everput in a position where he fails you, he will never forgive himself.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

This man has literal decks of cards of only one kind of card. You want a 52 card deck with all ace of hearts? He has that. Ten of spades? He has that too. Four of clubs? Yup. You don’t know why he has them, and he won’t tell you, but you think it’s literally just because he’s highly amused the way you wrack your brain over it.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

He’s classic. Love, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart. But he’s half-German (At least, that is my best speculation considering he was called “Vilhelm” and is canonly mixed-race), so “Liebling” is also an endearment he calls you, and my guess is he saves that one strictly for the sweetest, most tender moments you share.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Calm setting, electronics put away, and preferably some form of physical contact with you. This could be working together in the garden, side by side, or going out to walk around town together, but those are not his favorite. Baking with you is one of his top ones, though. Expect him to tap some sort of batter or frosting on your nose. His other favorite is lounging together on the couch, your back leaning against his chest, and just talking. Communication is important to any relationship, and he finds it a joy to communicate with you.

R = Romance (how do they show their love and affection?)

He’s the kind that shows his affection by giving you his time and attention. He’ll show it in the little touches exchanged back and forth and in the way he’s attentive to your well-being, particularly your mental well-being.

He’ll also show he loves you by playing mind games on you until you’re a blushy, stuttering mess. He’s usually forgiven with a kiss and “I love you”. You know you’re too soft on him, but whattcha gonna do?

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He is an onion you have to peel back layer by layer to get to open up to you. And like an onion, there’s likely going to be some tears shed as you do that. Time will determine how many secrets he’s willing to share with you, and it’s likely going to take years for him to fully open up to you. But keep at it. You will be rewarded with his innermost thoughts and feelings and the discovery of how insecure this seemingly unflappable man is.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

This man doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but falling hard and fast for you? That he did. One of his biggest hurdles he had to get over was logically evaluating his feelings and what he thought your feelings for him were as well as coming to terms with the way he’s been treated in past relationships (And not just romantic ones. He has an… interesting way of creating carefully crafted ties to people.) So it might take a little time for him to get comfortable enough to ask you out. And throughout the relationship, he’ll probably still be working with his past demons, so be prepared for that.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He’ll comfort you the best way he can if you’re a sad upset. A mad upset, and he’ll probably give you a little space to work yourself out while offering his guidance. And upset at him? This is where a good chunk of your arguments happen, to be honest. So then you both have to calm down before coming together again and talking it out. But you always do and are stronger for it.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He’ll never admit it, but he loveswhen he can leave you impressed. It thrills him if he can show off a trick or his general intelligence and have you praise him for it. Occasionally, he’ll search for ways to impress you just because he wants that attention. But never will he admit it.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Well…he’s all okay with fighting as long as it’s not physical fighting. If you’re going to verbally spar with someone, he’s more than happy to let you go, and he takes pride in the fact you usually wipe the floor with your opponent. But the moment it’s going to turn into a physical altercation, he’s your shield. Part of him thinks that in times he is unfortunately not around, it might be good to have some self-defense under your belt, but at the same time, he’d rather you just flee instead of fight. Because he knows you well enough that if you had the ability, you’d probably knock someone’s lights out if they came at you.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

He’s a psychologist; he can already read you well. But on top of that, you are his favorite study, and he will catalogue everything he learns about you away to pull out for future reference. So while he already reads you well early on into your relationship, give it a few years and you have basically no secrets from this man.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

He will never forget the “surprise over romance” opinion on proposals you shared with him. So, determined to give you the best, he sets up an elaborate puzzle for you, getting all the important people in your life to get in on it. Together, the two of you will trapeze the town hunting down little clues—in places, that you only realize later, hold significance to both of you—before he’ll “conveniently” take his leave so you can finish out the last leg, which ultimately ends up leading you to his office, the place you first met. And there he is, sitting behind a house of cards sits made solely from the Ace of Hearts with a ring in the middle of the top tier which was made from two different cards: the king and queen. Only once you realize that and he revels in your joy and tears will he properly get on one knee and ask you to marry him.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

When everything is “right” in his world. His patients are doing well, he’s got no massive cases on his plate, nothing requires his immediate attention, and you are close by, doing well in your own right.

[itsevanffs]

Hihi!! I've been hyperfixating on tommary lately and I absolutely loved (In the dark!)! I wanted to see if u have any tommary/harrymort fics that u recommend.. preferably ones that feature a possessive Tom ^^ ty in advance

I guess this would be the right time to publicly declare my bookmarks as open? Everything on there is a hard rec, and I vigorously quality-check those... for my liking and my liking only. (Sorry, not sorry. They're there for me, after all.)

That being said, hmm. I've got a few you might like.

Below the cut: more (additionally to my bookmarks) Tomarrymort (Tomarry or Harrymort) recommendations with possessive/obsessive Tom in alphabetical order; NOT order of how much I enjoy them. I'd argue I enjoy them all equally, just in different ways.

Ps: thank you! I'm incredibly flattered you liked my work :D

and don't let the police know anything by littlecupkate https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920947

Ted Dirlod is dangerous, Harry Potter knows this for a fact, but the man was still his only hope at escaping a doomed fate. It is never wise to blackmail a crime lord. It is even more unwise(?) when said crime lord is obsessed with you. An expanded version of "praying to whatever's in heaven, please send me a felon"

Genuinely lovely? Ticks all my boxes, at least, and minimal angst, which is always a plus. That being said, you should probably read the work mentioned in the summary as well for context. But hey. Two cakes by one person ;) Can never go wrong, can it?

As Certain Dark Things Are to be Loved by Strange_Soulmates https://archiveofourown.org/works/6015619

Tom was Harry's best friend growing up and his first love. At eight, Harry gave Tom his first kiss before moving away. As a freshman in college, the name of the RA on the door across the hall is terribly familiar.

Also absolutely deliciously indulgent. Tom is a possessive terror and Harry loves him for it. Need I say more?

Harry Potter and the Search for Ancient Magic (series) by Snickerdoodlepop https://archiveofourown.org/series/1133141

Once Voldemort realizes that Harry Potter is his horcrux, his plans change drastically. So does Draco Malfoy's assignment for the school year. Harry's sixth year starts going very differently. Snape is on a mission. Harry needs to learn pureblood politics. Draco Malfoy is trying to convince Harry to forgive him. Voldemort finds himself visiting Harry Potter in his dreams. Everyone is realizing that no one is quite what they thought. And through it all, there's a mystery. What is Ancient Magic? Can Harry use it to save himself or will it pull him toward the dark side?

Honestly, genuinely, hands down the best fucking tomarrymort series I've ever read. Hard, hard rec from here. The first work is completed and the second is in progress, so it's a nice pile of words to chew through!

can't commit to anything but a crime by caelesti https://archiveofourown.org/works/27286483

Excitement is the word he does not dare utter, even in the privacy of his own mind. It’s wrong, he knows. These women are people, in their own right; people with fears and aspirations, with friends and families and dreams, and to have anything cut those lives short is nothing but tragic. To have anyone cut those lives short is nothing but condemnable. He doesn’t have James Potter’s laugh lines, but he does have his father’s innate flair for danger. He doesn’t have Lily Potter’s enthusiasm, but he does have her insatiable curiosity. (In every world, Harry will excel at finding the biggest spot of trouble available and sticking his nose in it.)

Hot serial killer serial killer hot. That's it, those are the thoughts. Please read.

Dripping Fingers by May_May_0_0 https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440826

When Harry finds Tom Riddle's diary he does not write 'Hello.' He does not write anything at all. He draws. Tom Riddle falls in love with the artwork. _________________ Sketch by sketch, drawing by drawing, the ink Harry pours into the diary manifests as creations in Tom's monochrome world.

Okay so if I'm the reincarnation of Shakespeare, May_May_0_0 is fucking... Ted Hughes. Which doesn't say much to your average viewer but that man wrote my favourite poem ever (the one I based my war fic off) and I hold him in very high regard. This story? It is poetry in its rawest form. Pure, condensed beauty. If you decide to read only one of the fics in this list, please choose this one.

Either must die at the hand of the other by Metalomagnetic https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356095

Voldemort survives the Battle of Hogwarts because Harry Potter had not been the one to kill him, as the prophecy demands.

When is Metalomagnetic not a master of words? When will I cease becoming breathless at every paragraph, at every cleverly twisted word that comes back and reveals itself so beautifully later?

Fine Line by galaxiesundone https://archiveofourown.org/works/26949952

Magic always leaves traces. The lingering darkness of Sectumsempra, combined with Harry’s nature as a horcrux, awakens the soul piece contained within Ravenclaw’s diadem. At twenty years old, Tom Riddle walks a fine line between man and monster, the devil and the light-bringer in one. His influence forces Harry to face an ancient enemy unlike anything he has faced before: temptation.

Long story short: Tom Riddle is Hot and Good At Being Hot and Harry truly doesn't stand a chance and I am here for it. Lord help me I love this fic to pieces.

Good Intentions by Strange_Soulmates https://archiveofourown.org/works/7035334

Five year old Harry Potter meets and befriends a seventeen year old Tom Riddle while hanging out at his dad’s station. James Potter decides to take Tom under his wing, using Tom’s connection with Harry to try and keep the teen grounded, even as he begins to investigate the Death Eaters, a dangerous organized crime group and their mysterious leader only known as Lord Voldemort.

The sheer potential of this fic. The horrible, terrible dread of future events that have yet to be revealed. I will cry.

Honey, Smoke, Shiver by machiavelli https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068062

Harry - Omega, only son of Lord Potter - is nothing more than a useful playing card in a political game of power and money, one that is bought by the famed Tom Riddle: powerful, dangerous, pureblood Alpha. Unsurprisingly, Harry loves being underestimated.

Machiavelli is always a rec from me. Sorry lads but that's the way it is. Never a moment where I won't recommend their stuff.

Sickly-Sweet Obsession by maquira https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259103

Quiet, studious Tom Riddle spends his first year thirsting after an older student—Gryffindor’s Quidditch Captain, Harry Potter. His crush is common knowledge, and even Harry finds it cute… at first. Possessiveness spawns monstrosities. Tom does all within his power to mess with Harry’s dating life. And one seemingly harmless crush spirals into something darker, begetting deadly consequences.

Again; the potential. Delicious. This will bloom into something beautifully twisted, I'm sure of it.

Stars, Hide Your Fires by Audair https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745546

Riddle’s undivided attention snapped to him with the swiftness of shattering glass. His turbulent magic receded from where it had besieged the shop. "You,” he breathed. Coiling in leisurely motions, the eager tendrils of his magic reached for Harry, swathing about his limbs and neck and chest with a liquid, flowing fascination. "I’ve been looking for you,” Riddle continued, tilting his head to the side and sweeping his gaze over Harry. It was an appraisal that felt simultaneously like the raking of iron nails and the tender drapery of silk. It was so familiar, and yet… so foreign. In the winding streets of Knockturn Alley, an intricate dance of mutual obsession unravels between twenty-three-year-old Tom Riddle and a time-travelling Harry Potter.

This work has recently been undergoing a rewrite, and I can tell you with certainty it's only gotten better for it. It's beautiful; the setting, the atmosphere, the vibes... Perfection. Captures Knockturn Alley's mood impeccably and does not disappoint a single moment.

the pleasure, the privilege by asterisms https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227528

It begins with Vernon Dursley's body, dead across the table. In which Voldemort is dosed with amortentia, and nothing is better for it.

Completed, terrifying... and gorgeous.

The Shrike (to your sharp and glorious thorn) by PaperWorlds https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380079

Shrike: A songbird with a sharply hooked bill, known for their habit of catching insects and small vertebrates and impaling their bodies on thorns, the spikes on barbed-wire fences, or any available sharp point. A young Harry Potter survives an attack by notorious serial killer Voldemort. Over a decade later, they meet again.

Lads I'm so desperate for an update from this fic that I might cry if I think about it for too long. I keep saying it and I'll say it again; this is one of those fics with amazing potential that are sure to never disappoint no matter what path they take. An incredibly hard rec.

To Raise a Servant by bluegrass https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780816

Tom had found the boy amidst pouring rain. He figured he'd always wanted a pet snake.

Surprisingly not quite as dark as the summary makes it seem? I certainly enjoyed it, though, and that's why it's on this list.

What He Grows To Be by Severus_divides_into_H https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042240

Tom Riddle is a frightening coil of darkness, cruelty, and greatness, and changing him is Harry’s only hope for saving people he loves. Going back in time, he takes Tom from the orphanage, but his optimism shatters with every year they spend together. Tom still longs for darkness. Tom stifles him in his possessiveness. Tom is fixated on him to the point of destroying the world just to keep him. But Harry loves him. And the future changes.

Beautiful. And absolutely terrifying. I've started crying mid-scene at least three times for this fic, and it honestly seems unfathomable if you haven't read it if you're on my profile, since I think this is one of the fics that have shaped my style and ambitions. It is what I aspire to be.