#man this remains my fav thread

[osaumu]

amongst the static of the guests' chatter, it had started to come together. to say dazai hadn't understood it from the moment his eyes had been cast over the brief would be a lie, he and ranpo had exchanged looks and almost telepathically developed the scheme, though personally dazai had not cast himself at its centre. though his starring role made perfect sense, within the confines of his secret past - no longer so secret, it had been pointed out that a rather lavish house still sat empty underneath his name. dazai had scoffed, not having forgotten about it but having pushed it to the back of his mind, it made too much sense that the port mafia, that ougai mori hadn't reclaimed it, just another string keeping him tethered to the prodigy he so desperately wanted back, alongside another. it had been advised that he and yosano would stay there until the job had been completed, live their false identities for the period necessary in which to conclude their investigation, now he could see why.

though he cast his gaze to the painting, a fake no doubt, but still undeniably beautiful even so, a dance of watercolour and a distant memory, dazai was watching the hall in his peripherals, idly sipping from from his flute and pretending to have garnered quite the interest in the sight before him. there were two waiters, both of them scouring the crowd and lingering beside those of the wealthier class, eavesdropping. he could only assume that they served as gatherers of information, what kind of status and wealth a person possessed and how much they were worth stealing from, because they would circle back to their target with a new offering, a champagne flute or an hors d'oeuvres. to anyone else it might have looked seemingly innocent, though perhaps bothersome to be asked so many times, but dazai could see the whispers shared between them, could have made out the word if he had stood only inches closer.

the thought was interrupted by yosano's familiar presence, the warmth of her touch searing even with the fabric between them. it snapped dazai from his deductions and forced him to focus once again on the painting before them, huffing a gentle laugh at her words, body angling towards her and head tipping with a wicked smile. “ and he'd be right. ” leaning closer to share a secret once more, “ that was the story, wasn't it? i made you laugh and you've been falling for me ever since. ” to punctuate their tale, the ghost of a kiss to her cheek before dazai stood straight, gesturing to the painting with a tilt of his flute towards it. “ who wouldn't want that? ” an air of sarcasm to his tone, but he'd done his homework. “ a meiji era piece, farmhouse in the snow at sano on wood panel. gold and silver finishings on a scene from the noh play hachi no ki, where a former courtier offers his home to the lord tokiyori who has disguised himself as a wandering monk. see his horse? ” a step closer to her side, flute once again raised and an arm snaking around her waist for good measure, the eyes of the target dazai could feel in his back like daggers. “ and the miniature plum and cherry trees ... ? ” it was a known fact that art was supposed to evoke emotion, but dazai could only stare at it and see the objects, not their meaning. “ it's zeshin's only work to feature human figures, whatever that's supposed to mean. so like everyone else, we just want it to stare at it until we get bored. ”

enough to conjure an image of murky waters filled to the brim with dirt, oil, trash, and apparently — treasures of the deceased. it would be a far more entertaining story should it end up true, and though she gathered she'll likely never get it, it was easier to take his answers with a grain of salt. made for a fun game to dissect them, piece them together later, create a somewhat completed image of the finely crafted bullshit he spewed on a daily basis. she would have to give him credit for that, it was simply that she was just as meticulous, and it made her a pain to deal with in that regard. so she didn't press any further, caring little for its origins, instead quirking a brow in response just to acknowledge the tale. she wondered how nauseatingly affectionate they looked, if it was too much or just enough. but it still excited her nonetheless, catching the wandering eyes of men that were clearly taken for, paired with the mixture of scrutiny and adoration from their counterparts. at least she knew she'd succeeded in this aspect of her job, she certainly was a spectacle.

she took a sip from the flute, allowed the glass to linger over her lips, though she was skillful in the barrier of her lips — could never be too careful, the doctor was no lightweight, but it was easy to find distraction in them. so she watched dazai with intent, planning to cut him off after a certain threshold that she'd learned from their many nights out at bars and restaurants and wherever drinks were served. “ after. ” she murmured, more for her own confirmation than his, spotting the key players to the game of the night. the planted guests who'd rile up the auction, the one staff who'd plan to keep the target from leaving early by all means — whether with drinks, treats, or lavish company of the secret menu. it was a twisted world of the rich and the wealthy, yosano was learning, how the moving pieces worked in tandem with little forms of corruption. she would be so disgusted if not for the intrigue and curiosity.

if there was a role to be played, it was to be performed with little regrets. yosano was milking it out, and she knew that he knew it. the level of focus she maintained on him was not to be missed, lips parted with rising anticipation as she watched him tease, his touch a hair's breadth from her skin, distanced and yet close enough that she could feel his fingertips. it was dancing between the lines of scandal, how careless would a young woman in love be when all that mattered was the man who promised her the world ? “ hm ? what — ” she, however, was only human, not immune to the whims of a well - seasoned actor and it only left her with a dead glare towards him, something threateningly fearsome, more so than the blade that rested underneath her dress or the claws of her nails that ached to dig into him until she could discern if he truly harbored the blood of a human or something more uncanny. “ smart decision to walk away, because there are worse things to do to you than skin you alive. ” but then she remembered the whole point of it all, and snapped into bubbling laughter, eyes crinkling with enough effort that all of the distaste had washed away with ease.

placing the flute back on the tray of a passing staff, she managed to catch sight of the target looking in their direction, poor attempt at subtlety from their end as she could spot their eyes tracing the silhouette of her figure from the distance and she sighed, something resigned and expected. she made use of dazai's brief absence to look over the crowd, wave at the incoming guests who'd complimented her dress, and then she took her time in finding where the painting had been hung, and where her date had gone. the gallery was quieter, nearly empty save for the odd pair at the entrance, more interested in their conversation than the art on display. she gently squeezed the edge of dazai's shoulder to signal her arrival, then allowing the same hand to travel down his back as she moved to stand beside him, hand now resting by her side. “ i think the target found my laugh really amusing. should expect him to come around soon talking about how funny you must be. ” soft hum left her lips as she stared at the painting. “ why do we want it ? ”

[latibulater]

i was seeing if someone on the internet had already compiled all of rusty's little outfits throughout the show and found this 2yo reddit thread of someones rusty character analysis and its SO accurate (if a little hays code) and the thesis of what makes him so interesting is: Rusty Venture is a privileged abuse victim. He was fermented in violence and his character writing functions as the show's smoking gun for the cycle of generational trauma happening behind the scenes. He's so interesting to watch because unlike the adults who raised him (who are written as being more normal but choosing a violent lifestyle and casting away morals when making decisions), Rusty seems to be aware that he should feel guilty but simply doesnt care to when he feels like shit for so many other things.

if Rusty were to truly have a "come to the light" humanistic leaf-over, i think reckoning with everything he's done would truly break him down as a person. to reference one of my fav shows, the good place, i feel like rusty is like Michael the demon architect before he had his ethical breakthrough. he understands morals, even works with and around them, but there is simply no connection clicking about what it means on a personal level. BECAUSE rusty has been denied any source of internalized self or personhood since his conception and it's possible that any hope of escaping it was killed when his father died because then Rusty had no pier to leap away from no dock to push off he was suddenly at sea with no buoy so of course he takes up everything he's been trying to get away from his whole life. he still feels trapped though, so he never grows, he remains a boy the age of a man trapped both by his childhood and the ingrained visual of successful adult masculinity - so he never stops acting like a kid or like his father, one way or the other. rusty never stops re-living his trauma and never stops enacting it onto others

AUUUUUUUUUUGH

[lannisterdaddyissues]

For the fandom asks, M!

(Also I will not be butthurt at all if you don’t say me because if you don’t, that’s another artist I can find and follow!)

@faeratil @madrielite @downton-not-downtown-smh tysm for the asks!!! <3

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind oooh tbh i wasnt super into robert/cora until i found some of the cobert blogs on here and they convinced me to read cobert fic. and it was sooooo good honestly so many talented people in this fandom!!! <3

E - Have you added anything stupid/cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what lol yes, i have a whole tag for all the stupid tlk memes i made and then i made this meme thread for major on my anime sideblog bc im literally obsessed and had to cope with my trauma

H - Do you prefer characters from real action series or anime series ooh this is such a hard one, but i love anime so it's gotta be anime.

M - Your favorite fanart or fanartist man this is really hard because i have a lot of them?? but i think my favorite tumblr artists are oekaki-chan, ikimaru and tinymintywolf! i really love their works and they are lovely people! (i DO love your art though! <3)

N - Your favorite fanfiction or fanauthor oooh this is even harder!! anyway shamelessly gonna promo @f-ro-g whos amazing and @tonyamariestark who has amazing writing! i love her fic so much. my favorite fic of all time is probably this one, i really love the author's headcanons and it fits seamlessly with the source material!! my only regret is that it has remained a wip for years

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon omg i have SO many personal headcanons for major you don't even know. first off one of my fav hcs is that goro listens to white noise when he sleeps at night bc he cant fall asleep without it. i also think junior can sing an impeccable falsetto and he has the most trashy teenage white girl music taste ever its so cringe but he doesnt care. and you can catch these hands with the headcanon that momoko does dance and she would actually be really good at baseball if she ever played!!! lastly i have a whole fucking list of headcanons about gibson bc hes so important to me but some of the highlights are: 1) hes objectively a terrible driver but ironically loves driving fancy cars and wrecks one every 6 months 2) hes actually a pretty decent cook bc he had to teach himself how to cook after laura died and 3) he was drunk for his own wedding ill die on that hill

X - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms OOOOOOOH this is a tough one i have so many!!! but i think my top 3 have to be braime (got), wrightworth (pwaa), and mary/matthew (downton abbey) bc im obsessed

[attollogame]

torpe with a character of your choice 👀

torpe   –   to be desperately in love, but unable to admit your feelings or approach the person

With: my fav pining duo, Rembrandt and Castor

He makes it a habit to fray at least one thread on his suits, because it is his only ticket to see him. Castor lives in solitude in an isolated part of the Courts, far from the light that Rembrandt lavishly basks in, and so to meet him he needs to descend from his podium like some disgruntled deity into the deep levels of the institute.

It's worth the hassle, if only to capture a moment of his time.

See, Rembrandt cannot recall the exact moment he began to see Castor Cirillo in a different light from the rest. Perhaps it was his elusiveness, his aversion to light and life, that so drew Rembrandt's gaze. Or perhaps it was the art that Castor could create; he reminded Rembrandt of Hephaesteus at times, doomed to the furnaces and yet creating marvels that were the envy of the world above. He had a talent at tailoring as well—he once told Rembrandt that it was similar to puppeteering, in that one just needs to feed the thread to make everything whole again.

Rembrandt would have appreciated the sentiment, had he not been preoccupied with the feeling of Castor's fingers caressing his flesh.

The issue is, Rembrandt is not a forthcoming or commitment kind of man, and nor is Castor. Rembrandt has thus found himself caught in torpe; a feeling of deep love, but an inability to say so.

Which is why his favorite place in the entire Court is standing on Castor's stool, just as he is now. He wears nothing but a dark skirt tied around his waist, leaving his pale torso exposed to the flickering light of the fireplace, as Castor darts around him to measure this or that. His cool fingertips leave blazing trails across Rembrandt's skin, like comets in the night, and it takes all of his concentration not to let out any wanton sounds at the gesture.

So instead he looks down at him with an expression of rare fondness as the other man moves about; if someone were to walk in, they'd think themself intruding on an intimate meeting between two lovers. That is until they notice Castor's obliviousness, and the longing glint in Rembrandt's dark eyes.

When Castor finally does raise his head to lock his gaze with the other, Rembrandt turns away, as though burned by the stare, and shrugs his blazer back on.

"Is that everything?" He hums, stepping down from the stool and doing one button up. Castor re-rolls his measuring tape and gives Rembrandt a single nod of affirmation. The taller man smiles and turns to sweep out of the room.

If someone were to have walked in and remained, then they might've seen the longing glint in Castor's eye as well as he watches Rembrandt leave.

[menokai]

I've been waiting for this moment. I have far too many recommendations, so this is a very long list. Brace yourself. (List includes self-inserts and OC inserts.)

Title - Fandom - Author - Summary

All time favs marked with **

We'll start with a classic.

**Dreaming of Sunshine - Naruto, by Silver Queen

Life as a ninja. It starts with confusion and terror and doesn't get any better from there. OC Self-insert. No pairings.

I'm obsessed with anything written by @alkhale / marshmellowtime

**Memoirs of a Suicidal Pirate - One Piece, by alkhale

Getting murdered while trying to kill yourself is bad luck. Getting reincarnated after that is just a bad joke. But Toonami reruns and cheap commissions info have taught her this world has plenty of chances to get yourself killed. It can't be that hard. "So you're actually trying to die?" "Yes." "You know you're his nakama now, right?" "So?" "...Good luck with that."

**Of Heroes, Blood, and Boba - Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia, alkhale / marshmellowtime

There was a red thread that connected each and every one of them. It could bend, twist, and tangle, but it would never break. Though considering who her classmates were, she was getting pretty close to cutting it herself. "If you get your ass kicked one more time, I'm not healing you." Oc/?

**Enigma - Magi, alkhale / marshmellowtime

"Must you always disappear all the time?" "Well, if I didn't, you'd have nothing to look forward to." She was a curse, something that didn't belong in this world. She'd lived only for herself, but she'd fallen in love with a world she didn't belong in, one filled with wars and troubles, and she'd do anything to protect it. Sinbad/Oc/Kouen

Nascent - Batman, alkhale / marshmellowtime

When it came to Robin, the word simple would never quite do justice to the life he lived and the things he did. But when it came to Damian, the cold, arrogant, but fiercely loyal boy she'd grown to know, she found she didn't care. Damian/Oc

Keep a Place For Me - Jujutsu Kaisen, by alkhale

"Just don't ever forget," Gojo said, standing over her, his head pressed to the wall. "You're not allowed to forget. Not ever." He boxed her in perfectly, towering and blocking her from the rest of the world and the rest of the world from her. She stayed silent, looking up at him. There was an entire world reflected in his eyes, a world untouched and unknown by any other man but him, who reached higher than anyone else. "You can be reborn as many times as you want," Gojo said. "Look however you want. Become whoever you want." His head lowered, pressing his forehead to hers. His eyes threatened to swallow her whole. "I'm the one that named you. Don't you ever forget that." Or; A quiet story that takes place a little before Gojo Satoru was born to be the greatest shaman of this era, his youth, triumphs, losses, and his inherent rise to a place unknown by anyone else. And the one person who bore witness to it all.

Time to spread the love!

Naruto

**Sanitize - Naruto, by sage_thrasher

Basic medicine and sanitation are simple. During the Warring Clans era, they become revolutionary.

The Medic-Nin's Guide to Casual Revolution - Naruto, by spideywhiteys

Aikawa Toshiro is born anew on the heels of the third shinobi war. He's clanless, average in strength, and is alive on luck alone. But he's here. And he's about to make it everyone else's problem. Life beget change, and if Konoha is so frequently likened to a tree, shouldn't it be expected to grow?

The Color of Summer - Naruto, by spideywhiteys

There's a quote that comes to mind: “Treat a man as he is, and he will remain as he is. Treat a man as he could be, and he will become what he should be.” If they'd been smart, the citizens of Konoha would have realized this. If you call a boy a monster, then a monster he shall be. Natsume has a head full of a past life's knowledge and the sinking realization that in this world, no one will step up to protect him and Naruto. So he learns to do it himself, even if it means staining his hands so Naruto can keep his clean.

**Catch Your Breath - Naruto, Lang Noi

Inspired by Silver Queen's "Dreaming of Sunshine." Ripples turn into waves and crash upon the shores of what is and what could be, and I was just someone else who got pulled under. I didn't realize that even a drowning person makes waves of their own. A SI OC story.

(This story also has lots of side stories and bonus stories in other fandoms - highly recommend checking those out too!)

Only a Moron - Naruto, by swabloo

and a nutcase to the suicidal degree would ever find the concept of being born into the Shinobi world as cool, or any variation thereof that somehow implies any possible positive connotation. Self-insert to a certain degree. Dark, AU.

Joyous Children - Naruto, by UnderneathXtheXunderneath

I cannot move a single muscle as I stare at the piece of cloth hanging on the wall right across from my crib. A sheet with an all too familiar symbol stitched smack in the middle of it, its red and white coloring in a stark contrast against the dark blue surrounding it. I'm an Uchiha now. How is this even my life? Rated M for violence.

For a Chance at Happiness - Naruto, by eiron

Changing the future wasn't easy. There would be a lot of lying. Deceit. Manipulation. Death. Especially if I wanted to change anything for the better. [OC-Insert]

One Piece

someday to somewhere - One Piece, by epiphyllous

Never in your dreams would you have ever imagined yourself being a part of the Whitebeard Pirates, sailing in the New World, and finally meeting Portgas D. Ace whose death in the manga made you cry for days on end. (And you still remember how Luffy's heart broke, how his family cried and put a tomb for both him and his father in the New World after the Paramount War. You walk on the same ship as those who you've seen through a looking-glass mourning for their dead brother.) Yet you're here on a pirate ship, as a pirate, and people aren't dead. Now you've met Ace, who, if you don't start resuscitating him now, will have a tombstone that reads "died from inhaling soup."

**Echoes - One Piece, by 500shadesofblue

The weirdest part isn’t the pirates. It’s the dæmons. (What's the best thing to do when you're born into a world of pirates, dæmons, and devils? Live your life to the fullest, she supposes. SI-OC Dæmon AU.)

**Life is like a Boat - One Piece, by Guntz

Reuben Campbell, a young fisherman about to leave home, takes one last job to help his family. A great storm at sea, however, whisks him away into a strange world where strong pirates rule the vast blue ocean, and the only person he can depend on for help is a boy wearing a straw hat… A Guy-falls-into-OP fic!

Through a Canine's Eyes - One Piece, by Nyanwolfy

In confusion I turned my head to the side to look at my body and I froze as I was met with orangey looking fur and four legs with paws on the end. Now, I was never the smartest kid in my classes, but I wasn't stupid either. I was in the body of some sort of canine. No, that wasn't right, I was a canine. OC story.

**Lest Ye Become the Monster - One Piece, by GamerDame

Monsters & demons are an unfortunate danger in this world. They prey on the scared & defenseless. But Abel is neither. A self-proclaimed monster hunter, she seeks to understand the enemy to equip others to save themselves. But she may have to leave the East Blue to achieve this. Where will she find a crew crazy enough to carry her on her fool's errand? Slow burn OCXZoro

Live 'til ya drop! - One Piece, by Snoara

Say hello to Gloria, a girl who ended up in the One Piece world. Leaving behind the peaceful 'normal' life, she now ventures the world with the Strawhats. And of course, there are gods, goddesses and demons involved. (Dead.)

**Tell it to the Marines - One Piece, by Tsume Yukki

Because sometimes a tale is too tall not to tell. Even if no one will ever believe her, this isn't Riskua's first shot at life. It is her first time as the 'big sister' of the nuisance that is Monkey D. Luffy however. Self Insert. (slow burn on the pairing)

Bronze - One Piece, by ghostpuppy

Selena is reborn into a world where marines follow their own skewed sense of justice, pirates control the seas, and the government is run by self-entitled assholes. Torn between her desire to explore the world and to preserve the timeline, she tries to go on her own adventure and avoid all things Strawhat. Fortunately, she fails miserably. Reincarnation SI-OC. Canon divergent.

To Look At the Sea Without Wishing - One Piece, by Lady Ayuka

A single drop in the ocean and a tidal wave is born. Lily's life is pure chaos from the moment she wakes up and finds herself reincarnated into the world of One Piece. And with none other than Monkey D. Luffy as her twin brother it's not bound to get any easier anytime soon. OC Self-insert. A single drop in the ocean and a tidal wave is born. Lily's life is pure chaos from the moment she wakes up and finds herself reincarnated into the world of One Piece. And with none other than Monkey D. Luffy as her twin brother it's not bound to get any easier anytime soon. OC Self-insert.

Kuroko no Basuke

The Definition of Happiness - Kuroko no Basuke, by juungi

How do you repent for ruining someone's life? Hanamiya x OC x Kiyoshi

Of Sweaty Socks and Orange Locks - Kuroko no Basuke, by marshmellowtime

It was a world where talents bloomed, dreams were crushed, friendships torn, and promises broken. She was a simple fool stumbling along, too stubborn to let things go, and she'd fight to get her friends back. "What are you doing?" "It's an ice cream. Don't tell me becoming an egotistical jerk made you forget that." Oc/?

**Egoistical - Kuroko no Basuke, by TheKiro

If she had to find a word to describe her table neighbor it would be egotistical. Or maybe arrogant. Or maybe scary. But in the end, she came to know him a lot better against her own will. It just depended whether she could call that positive or not. [Aomine/OC] [Birthday Present]

Miscellaneous Fandoms

**Cor Et Cerebrum - Batman, by audreycritter

A series of stories following the Wayne family as they deal with illness, changes to the family, and growing up. Four major completed longfics, and a whole lot of shorts. Shorts can be read out of order or skipped entirely. (A no-smut series; rating is for some violence, gore, and language depending on story.)

**by foot it's a slow climb - The Untamed, by Vroomian

So. Let's get this straight - I didn't set out to derail any plot. My plan was to lay low and stay away from canon. It's just... My plans tend to fail. Spectacularly. - (oc insert.)

**deathless - The Witcher, by pallidus

Anna did not have a Netflix account and had not binged The Witcher, unlike half her tumblr dash. It looked fun - there were a lot of gifs of Henry Cavill in a bathtub and some cutie with a lute cracking jokes - but she wasn’t in the mood for a new series right now. She was going to regret that.

**New Reality - Tales of Symphonia, by noa748

The scary thing is, when you've been stuck in a video game for long enough, it's Earth that starts looking like a dream. But I know it's not. I have to get back home…no matter how impossible it may seem. Self-insert.

knowledge comes but wisdom lingers - Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia, by Ywena

If that was a normal fanfiction, she would have been reincarnated fifteen years before the beginning of the Plot, so she could join class 1-A (hopefully taking Mineta Minoru’s spot) and save the world side by side with her friends. She would have been on the Good Guys’ side from birth, because everyone loved heroes and every child aspired to be one. Right? Well, someone in the Reincarnation’s Administration must have screwed up. Because not only was she born a good seven years in advance, but she had been reincarnated in a family with enough issues to put the Todoroki to shame. But hey, she could teleport. She wasn't exactly going to complain about it, right? (Self-Insert born a few years before Izuku Midoriya's generation. Let's explore this world, sort out some drama, and try to become a hero in the meantime. What could go wrong?)

What They Wouldn't Do - Daredevil, by Ashevillain

Sarah is a secretary at Orion, a shady company previously owned by Wilson Fisk. When Daredevil begins investigating Orion, Sarah accidentally discovers his true identity, and he's not pleased. Despite her best efforts to avoid him after figuring out who he is, she quickly finds herself on the receiving end of a Daredevil interrogation in a dark alley. Post S1, Slow Burn Matt/OC.

Horizons - Final Fantasy VII, by ForestWhisper3

It was a typical plot. Someone finds themselves in a fictional world and suddenly becomes the one to change everything for the better…Right. Not happening. Did they have any idea how terrifying it was to even consider that line of thought? There was no way I was going anywhere NEAR ShinRa, and not even a time-traveling Cloud could make- wait, what? Self-insert. SI/OC

Eclipse of the Heart - Kingdom Hearts, by FadedPhantom

Aila's life on Earth had always seemed normal. However, when she suddenly finds herself stranded in a world she thought only existed in a game, she becomes a part of an adventure that is anything but ordinary. During KH2.

That's about all I got for the moment. If anyone else has anymore.. I'm always looking to add to my list. (:

Honestly people hate too hard on self inserts & self indulgence and stuff like that people find "cringe" or whatever. Self inserts are Good actually

[shelby-love]

FRED WEASLEY

Battle of Hogwarts

Requested: yes (by anonymous)

Prompts: none (Voldemort’s lines (cursive) are from the movie)

Warning(s): mentions of death, angst

Word count: 1.9K

Author’s note: I’m weak guys I literally cried while writing this. UGH! Movie 8 is so freaking devastating how can it be someone’s favorite?? If it’s your fav than you’re a freaking soldier! Anyhow, enjoy this because we all know Freddie deserves it! God I wish he lived :’( In the movie I mean lmaooo 💀

Link to Voldy’s little whispering announcement is here! Recommend watching it so you get the feels.

The once peaceful night had turned into a rampage in a matter of seconds. Just 16 hours prior to the battle you were sleeping late with Fred at the Burrow, inhaling his familiar scent until it lulled you back to sleep eventually.

Now you stand filthy, with cuts and bruises all over your body, looking around as the school you had attended not too long ago became a battleground for all witches and wizards.

Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, the sickly smiles the Death Eaters pranced around with suddenly being too scary to look at. The wind was no calmer than yourself - it blew harshly, pushing your hair violently to one side while you turned your head to look the other way. Death Eaters had penetrated Hogwarts and you were all alone to fight off the first wave.

Jets of green light flew past you in the heat of the moment, missing you by a tiny fraction of an inch. You ducked behind a fallen statue doing your best to ignore the never ending screams of curses. A giant plotted around the debris, walking in a semi-circle while trying to catch a few wizards onto his half-moon shaped weapon of choice.

No one had your back, only the stone statue you trusted enough to lean your back against.

The sight before you was truly terrifying. So many memorable places had turned upside down into something you didn't recognize. Didn't try to recognize. So many memories were squished into anguish. Pain.

Fear for your loved ones.

"Fred!" You screamed out in terror. Your boyfriend was not by your side, having split up from you when he went after his older brother Percy. You didn't see him anywhere since that moment on, but perhaps that was a good thing. Fred wasn't outside to see what the grounds has turned into. He wasn't there to hear the despairing screams that surrounded you. "Fred!"

Another burst of green had escaped from someone's wand, sneaking up to your body with force. The death curse awaited you - no one could deny it.

But something blocked it. A surge of light - pure bright light - blinded you for several seconds before it died down to a spark, leaving you squinting your eyes at the savior in gratitude.

"You really think I'd let my future sister-in-law die like that?" Said George, his voice unmistakably similar to Fred's. It wrapped around you like a cloak of protection, reassuring you that there was still hope.

That you weren't alone.

"You're alive!" Your voice, unlike George's, lost all its light as you staggered to your feet hastily.

"Course I am," said George teasingly though his dashing smile turned into a thin line of worry fairly quickly. He grasped your elbow and dragged straight inside until you met the corridors you roamed around your entire adolescent life. Without a choice but with full trust, you followed after George, watching as the robes on his shoulders held themselves on by mere threads, his whole body blackened by the smoke. Just like yours.

Panic flared within you. You could hear even more screams inside the school - the only place that was free of tall, monstrous giants with voices that shook the ground like bombs.

People, good and bad, screamed out both curses and jinxes while dueling. Your head snapped into different directions every second you were inside, readying your body to defend yourself.

George stopped suddenly, pushing you back behind him and blocking an unavoidable Avada Kedavra before turning back to you. He looked panicked, "Find Fred! He's on the seventh-floor corridor with Perce! Go!"

"I can't leave you, George!" You bellowed in between screaming a jinx at a dark hooded Death Eater.

"I don't think you have much of a choice in this matter, sis!" He said without a backward glance, hurling you into the opposite direction with a mere swipe of his wand. "Go!"

And so you listened, running off to find the man you loved while leaving his brother behind with a heavy heart.

The long-lost piece to your heart, although the piece that belonged to George since birth.

Fred.

You ran forwards through the halls you knew like your own home representing a mad-woman. Every so often, after cursing a different Death Eater through the window you would glance around and choke back a sob.

The halls, per se, weren't as devastating to see; it was the lack of greeting smiling faces that once stood proudly up on the walls that broke your heart. The people from the pictures had disappeared, no longer greeting you in passing like before.

Just then the sound of thunder penetrated through the land, like a storm greeting you on the doorstep. The room began to tremble, your head pulsing to the point you thought it would explode.

And then His voice echoed.

"You have fought valiantly... but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste."

You dug your hands into your hair like doing so would push Him out.

It didn't.

Although His whispers remained there, His influence did not.

Only at the sight of Fred backed up against the wall with Augustus Rookwood at his feet did Voldemort's voice drain down your ears into oblivion. He had his wand pointed to Fred whose own wand had been knocked out of his hold, disarming him.

Power surged through your being and without much thinking, a bright light of a jinx blasted out your wand, neatly hitting the Death Eater making him drop his wand and crumble to the ground like a pile of ash.

You drew in a suffocating gasp for air and dropped to your knees, a wave of wet tears threatening to spill over like a river. Augustus blew away with the wind, leaving only the two of you alone.

For now.

Instinctively, you cupped Fred's cheeks with your shaky hands and pressed your forehead against his. The whispering was getting too much. "Shh...you're okay..."

"I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity."

"Y/N?"

"N-no, don't speak Freddie," you murmured sadly, shakily brushing a strand of his hair while pinning his eyes into yours to distract him from the whispers. 

He did as you said, locking his eyes with yours and not looking away until it was over. "Fred I love you."

"Harry Potter, I speak now directly to you. On this night you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me."

And just like that, the castle became unnervingly quiet. Every blast of light that sparked around was no more than a lingering smell in the air, unharmful to anyone - rendered completely useless. 

You didn't know for how long this eerie bit of peace and quiet would last, but you were going to use it up completely. 

"I-I..." Fred started, although no more words followed after that. He swallowed the rest of the thought heavily, instead letting you silently help him stagger to the Great Hall. 

You tried not to look at the blood, but how could you not? It was everywhere, littering the walls and walkway even though no physical contact had to be made in order to kill someone using magic. It just comes to show just how merciless the dark followers truly are. You bit down on your trembling lip, suppressing the dark thoughts that invaded your mind.

Fred had thought the same apparently as he looked just as broken and tired as you did when you stopped in the doorway of the Hall, not knowing what awaited for you beyond those doors. 

The room that used to be the liveliest place on earth shuddered with silence, only footsteps could be heard. Tears rounding up as a close second. 

People were bawling. Although quietly, as if the fallen were asleep.

The house tables, the tables of pronounced rivalry between the four houses were gone. What crowded the room were the people, their arms around each other's necks. The injured were being treated but the dead lied in the middle of the hall. 

Your friends mourned their loved ones; professors sat quietly by the side, looking grim but with hope still glimmering in their eyes; kids who you had nothing to do with during your schooling suddenly felt like the closest of friends, their closed eyelids will never open again. It tore your heart.

The first of many sobs escaped. You paused ever so slightly, pushing Fred back too without even realizing it. Breathing became harder, your lungs became tighter. Life was too harsh at that moment.

Inhale. Exhale.

"Y/N hey," said Fred softly, cupping your chin with utmost of care. Almost as if he was scared a simple touch could break you. "It's okay. Look at me, love."

You shook your head, unable to do as he said, "Fred? Y/N?"

Both Fred and you glanced at George who was standing amidst the crowd, looking worse than he did before. But at least he had a smile.

"Go." You gave Fred a simple nod, and he didn't even waste a second. Both brothers ran for each other, winding their arms around each other's necks. You could hear their cries of agony and the falling tears, so you turned your head to hide your own set of tears. All you could do was release the emotions, you came to realize.

There was something about the twins, as if they felt what no one in the world could. Perhaps that's what made them so close, a joy to be around really. Like many, they fought, but then they simply synchronized at the right time and all became good again.

There was something about knowing that the love of your life's brother was okay that made the world a bit more bearable. George was a part of Fred no one could replace - you, Molly, Arthur, Ron, ... You didn't want to live to see the day Fred mourns over his brother too soon.

But Fate smiled down on you, reuniting the two soulmates as a gift to the world.

Ginny walked toward you so quietly you almost failed to notice her, but when you did your lips curled sadly; her face was swollen, and she looked to be in a great deal of pain, but she hugged you tightly despite it. Your arms mimicked her own, pulling her close until the comfort balanced out.

Soon, the rest of the Weasleys joined, showing just how grateful they were for each of their kids. Hermione and you closed in on them too, and they immediately pulled you into the group, showering you with love while your parents couldn’t.

Remus and Tonks looked peaceful, looking as if they were resting while laying down next to each other, their hands touching. You didn't have the heart to wake them, you decided. Instead, you kneeled down and thanked them. Promised them that their son would learn and grow up to be just like the two of them.

You yearned not to feel, but that was simply not possible. So, you turned to Fred, tears travelling down your cheeks, every thought fried and cluttered - his eyes dimmed sadly. Fred reached out and pulled you to him, hugging you securely, his strong arms becoming a shield of love no one could break. You felt his tears travel down your neck and that urged more of your own to fall down too.

When you finally parted, you looked deeply into his eyes, letting him wipe your tears away. "Please don't leave again." The words barely managed to break out as the sobs you started to withhold chocked your voice back. Fred's eyes softened, his chin rested on top of your head when he brought you back to him. His arms clenched you tighter this time, like a promise.

"I'll never leave you again. I promise."

MASTERLIST

Here is the link to my tag list masterpost! If you want to be added to one of my existing tag lists (or perhaps new ones) let me know! :)

✭ GENERAL TAGS (all WIPs):

@fofisstilinski @short-potato @miranda0102  @httphiddlestan @caromichaela @xx-missunicorn-xx @jemmakates @theravenclawmarauder @httphiddlestan @tclaerh @chefdoeuvre @abimoon @sofiasamps @princxss-fia @thirstykpophoe

✭ HARRY POTTER: /

[kmikaelsonimagines]

Bury My Mistakes: A Kol Mikaelson Imagine

Request from @boredperson120​: Hey there I love ur work and I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader is Davinas older sister who is a hunter and has had past relationships where the guys would just cheat on her. Also she is currently in a relationship with Kol and she walks in on him and Davina, with that she leaves town feeling broken and Kol regrets it and does everything in his power to get the reader go back together with him. Can it be a happy ending? Please you’re my fav writer ❤️❤️

Two things: obviously, I do not condone cheating. And two, this is my last imagine and my inbox is now clear! Requests are still open, but please remember to check the rules linked below! Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x 

Rules and Guidelines

If there was one thing that Kol Mikaelson had always taught you it was that some things were better left buried. It was advice you had stuck to, advice you had treated as gospel, not only because it made sense, but because it had come from him. The man you loved, the man who meant so much more to you than any other man you had ever been in a relationship with. He allowed you to bury those past relationships, to bury the hurt they had caused you and pretend as if they had never existed.

He was perfect.

It wasn’t just that he treated you like a queen, that he seemed to worship the ground you walked on, constantly complimenting you and telling you he loved you. It was that he accepted you for what you were, a hunter who often pursued supernatural beings like him if they stepped out of line.

He accepted your family too, practically doting on your younger sister, Davina. It warmed your heart how close they had gotten since the two of you started dating, and it only reinforced your view that he was part of the family. Davina adored him too and it always made you smile when you saw them engage in friendly banter. He was the brother she had never had, and you never failed to remind him.

“Thanks. For being nice to her.” Your sister had never had many friends growing up and you worried about her constantly.

“What is there not to like, Miss Claire?” Kol leaned down to kiss you, and you smiled at the formality of his tone. Forever the gentleman. He had honour and he was faithful, unlike so many of the men you had been with in the past.

At least, that was what you thought.

You had never felt more stupid than when you had walked into Kol’s bedroom to find him kissing your sister. Once again, you had been fooled by a man who wasn’t everything he seemed. No wonder he and Davina were so close, no wonder he had wanted to include her in everything.

They had broken apart at the sound of the gasp leaving your lips, guilt painted all over their faces. Kol had gone to speak, but you had stopped him, running away and getting into your car. You were there now, in fact, tears streaming down your face, speeding in an effort to just get home.

You felt broken, and when you got home, collapsing onto your bed, you realised that the only way you were ever going to fix it was to get away from the cause of it all. You were going to leave New Orleans, bury Kol Mikaelson and your broken heart and leave it all in the ground to rot.

You were going to forget him, and you hoped that Davina had a nice life. You said nice with contempt, rather hoping that she would join him in Hell.

You packed a small bag, before climbing back into your car and driving away. You didn’t bother saying goodbye, knowing that no-one would miss you. Kol Mikaelson was just another mistake, and maybe, maybe this was a slight overreaction, but that thought didn’t cross your mind. Not until over a month later.

You had been settled for a while now in a new town where nobody knew who you were. Kol Mikaelson was a distant memory, at least, that’s what you were trying to make him, your heart still shattering every time your phone rang, his name flashing up on the screen. He had been trying to call you since you left New Orleans, obviously not knowing where you were.

“Why won’t you just get the hint?”

“Because I need to talk to you.” You turned at the voice that floated through the open window, eyes widening as you saw the man who had broken your heart in the worst way possible. “Let me in. Please.”

“And why the hell would I do that? In fact, how did you even find me?” You tried to come across as angry, tried to pretend that you didn’t want him there. But you couldn’t ignore the tiny part of you that was glad to see him, the part that thought maybe he really did love you, maybe he was here to apologise.

The voice that told you to bury him told you it would idiotic to take him back, but your heart was aching, desperate to be fixed and you knew that he was the way to do it.

“Y/N, please.”

You remained stoic, not getting your hopes up.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say from there.”

“Okay.” He huffed, clearly frustrated. You resisted the urge to tell him to leave, but stood your ground. “Y/N, what happened with me and Davina. It’s not what you think. Well, it was. But it’s not anymore. The moment you walked in on us, the moment I saw your face, I knew it was the biggest mistake of my life. I have spent every waking hour since trying to find you, so I can look you in the eyes and tell you that I’m sorry. I don’t want to be something else that you bury, another person that hurts you, because I love you, Y/N. And I know, I know that I don’t deserve it, but I’ve lived over a thousand years and I have never felt the way I feel when I’m with you. So, if you could please, please, just give me another chance.”

You were silent for a moment, as your heart helped you dig up the mistake you had buried. It was no longer a mistake, having shrunk to a needle and thread, stitching up the broken fragments that resided in your chest.

And then you spoke.

“Well, I suppose you’d better come in then, Kol.”

Masterlist

[mego42]

fav lines tag

RULES: share your favorite sentence/paragraph from each one of your fics and tag 6 other fic writers to do it too :)

tagged by the talented brilliant incredible @foxmagpie (💖)

tagging: @pynkhues @hypermania @bethsuglywigs @riosnecktattoo @missmaxime @sothischickshe @joeyjoeylee

some ground rules: I’m only doing brio fic bc at some point when I wasn’t paying attention I wrote a metric fuckton of it and we’re already gonna be here all day bc my other ground rule is I’m allowed to interpret the concept of a line however i want. i’m also gonna tell you why i picked them bc no one can stop me. cool? cool. good talk. 

your monster looks like mine

okay so my first choice for fav would be the entire ~conversation around whether or not beth had a choice when she set rio up bc oooof I just love how that came out so! much! BUT if I’m limiting myself to something closer to a line, I’m going with this one. i love what it establishes for rio’s emotional state when it comes to beth, i love how it captures their push/pull constant one upping battle, I love the rhythm of the flow of it and the grandiose verbiage (i was having a frankly unreasonable amount of fun with natural phenomena imagery throughout the whole fic and this captures a bit of it). idk I just think it’s neat.

The words rip through him, a bright, blazing comet trail whipped across his sky, illuminatin’ his landscape, impossible to ignore.

Elizabeth’s spread out on the bed below him, golden hair tumblin’ around her face, mouth red and swollen, lookin’ up at him like she’s got him. Like she’s figured some shit out. Like she fuckin’ did something by putting that together.

Like Rio doesn’t fuckin’ know. Like that doesn’t fuckin’ haunt him, torment him, mock him every time she pulls some of her bullshit and he’s left picking up the pieces, knowin’ damn well what the right answer is but also knowin’ he’s always gonna be wrong when it comes to her.

--

a song inside the halls of the dark

another one where I’d pick a whole scene if I could BUT if  the whole opening flashback isn’t on the table (idk I love it for 14,000 reasons including how it sets up the bookend structure for the chapter, how it sets up a bunch of the final payoffs, the tone of it, idk everything about it came out exactly how I wanted it to and I really love how it tees up the ending), then I’m going with this bit from the final brio scene. it ties back in a whole bunch of threads that have been woven in and out all the way back to the first chapter and closes them out in a way that also feels (to me) like a beginning which I love bc the whole theme of the chapter is it’s a beginning, not the end.

What does it mean then, that he’s slept so soundly beside her?

The playhouse glows softly. She wonders how many more times she can get away with sanding it before it weakens past the point of supporting the kids’ weight and the whole thing collapses.

Behind it, she can see the long shadow it casts reaching for the boxwoods bordering the yard. The lines of the structure frame windows of bright moonlight on the grass, eerily reminiscent of the windows that loomed large in the nightmares Beth abruptly realizes she hasn’t had in weeks. Not since that last night at Rio’s loft. And that’d been the last one since...his car. Canada. The night all of this started.

Beth blinks. What does it mean that she’s slept so soundly beside him?

A-live, alive, alive, I—

Her breath catches.

—

pills’n’potions

I don’t have any grand reasoning for why I picked this bit from the 4th (i think?) ~ch as my fav, I just really like writing annie and rio interacting and I especially love writing them with annie like, intellectually aware that she should probably be afraid of him but also spiritually incapable of not being herself and rio being wildly annoyed by it

"What?" He asks, giving the t an edge sharp enough to cut.

There's a pause. "What like you didn't hear me, or what like what do I want?"

[...]

"Hello?"

Now the sister sounds like she's getting annoyed, and Rio's really gotta do somethin' about the two of them runnin' 'round actin' like he's someone they can get away with not takin' seriously. Like he's some sort of pet. Defanged. Declawed. Fuckin' neutered.

"Get to the point."

"I mean, I kind of did in the message."

—

trade my heart for honey

the only thing sexier than rio being good at pool is beth being a fucking shark and rio being out of control turned on by it.

Dropping all pretense at being less than she is, Beth grabs the cue ball, positioning it slightly to the left of center where the felt is slightly more worn. Even without the tell, she's seen Rio put it there enough times to know it's the table's sweet spot. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rio shift his weight before she tunes him out entirely, drawing the stick back and letting it fly.

It's as close to a perfect break as she's probably ever managed. The cue ball connects dead on, scattering the rest far and wide. The one and the six drop neatly into pockets, the four and five coming to a stop right on the edge of the left side and far left corner, nearly closing off that whole side of the table.

Every stripe remains in play.

"Solids," she says, not letting herself dwell on the way Rio's mouth hangs slightly open, his eyes glazed over.

—

swaying evergreens

the whole theme of this fic is the terrifying intimacy and vulnerability of sharing your most precious moments and memories with someone you care about and I like how this touches on that along with sort of nutshelling the double edged sword of grief-tinted memory which is another major theme

There's somethin' extra about these unguarded moments. That Elizabeth trusts Rio enough to drop her guard completely and give him this completely unvarnished look at her. It's been over a year since he's been back in her bed, since the first time he'd slept here, but there's still somethin' tentative about it. Like there's a part of him that's never going to be all the way over the first time he'd been here, that can't fully believe how far they've come, that this isn't going to crumble, melt, drain away.

Truthfully, Rio doesn't mind it, that faint edge. He's well acquainted with the different flavors of loss, and the threat of it's a counterpoint that keeps him sharp. Lets him know this is real but not somethin' he'll take for granted.

—

swear on a silver knife

there were a couple of sexy tension bits that made for strong contenders but ultimately this won bc I’m obsessed with how this reference to 306 came out.

“I told you. I got my own debts to pay.” He bit off the words like it cost him something to repeat them.

Beth shivered, abruptly right back at that picnic table, cheeks wet and staring at him, searching for any hint of the man she’d—she’d—anyone besides the cold, unfeeling stranger sitting beside her, blood so fresh on his hands she could nearly smell it underneath the scent of the cold, misty night rain falling around them, blurring her eyes, beading in her hair and on his eyelashes.

—

listening through the air shaft

this was a really hard one to narrow down but I ultimately went with this but bc I love it for a culminating look at how beth and rio’s relationship has evolved throughout the fic and also bc a version of this scene was the first thing I wrote for the whole fic so it was fun to finally get there with everything in place behind it. I also just love it as a reference for the dichotomy of both beth and rio and also how complicated that is makes being around them for everyone else

They aren't even doing anything, just quietly working side by side, but there's a synchronicity to their movements, a quiet peace that makes Dean feel more like an intruder than anything else that's happened today, and he hates it.

It’s so far from the guy that’d broken into his home, beaten him up. Who’d looked at him with those terrifying, blank, shark eyes before casually shooting him in the chest like it was nothing right where they’re about to sit down and share a meal.

A guy, Dean suddenly realizes, he hasn’t seen any hint of in a long, long time. It’s not that he doesn’t think that part of him isn’t there, it’s just...it’s weird, is all, how completely he puts it away.

It reminds Dean of Beth, actually, now that he’s thinking about it.

God. They look so...so domestic. Sweet. Disarming in a way that completely undermines everything Dean thought he'd known about the guy and their whole...thing.  

He just—he doesn't get it, what Beth sees in him.

—

now use both hands

idk I just like this bit let me live

"What are you—what service?"

He makes himself take the route through the showroom that brings him right past her, leaning in and softly brushing a lock of hair out of her face for the first time in longer than he can remember.

Her eyes flutter shut, and he feels absolutely nothing.

"Helping sad, lonely housewives get off once their husbands are done with them."

Her eyes snap open, and he makes himself look at her long enough to watch the hit land and the hurt bloom.

He's empty, untouchable, she's nothing to him.

Rio doesn't look back.

—

I'd give her a HA! And a HI-YA!

you can take my made up backstory for rio and mick from me when you pry it from my cold dead hands.

Mick had been there the first time Rio'd had to get his hands all the way dirty and had kept an eye on him when he'd gotten blackout drunk after, and Rio'd done the same for him. Every bloody, grimy step Rio'd climbed, Mick had been right there with him, watching his back all the way to the top.

The point is Rio's Mick's brother in every way that counts.

Mick'd seen him twisted up over business and twisted up over personal shit, but he's never seen him let both get twisted up like he had since that fuckin' weasel Boomer'd got his ass handed to him and Rio'd gotten curious about it.

—

as the world turns, the blunt burns

I pull this every time I have to pick a fav and I can’t even really explain it aside from I think I’m really, really funny and that’s enough

Beth suddenly sobers as much as she can when she feels like she's simultaneously floating away and sinking into the Earth and wipes her eyes. "Are you gonna get in trouble?"

"You're in the house, ain't you?" He's answering Beth but looking at Rio.

"Mick," Beth frantically tugs at his pant leg because apparently, he doesn't have all of the information. "We're in the yard."

"Yeah, Mick," Rio says, glaring. "You're in the yard."

Mick shrugs, and Beth realizes he isn't scared of Rio at all. That's a neat trick. How does he do that? Maybe he can teach her.

—

smoke, fire, it’s all going up

there are realistically many other better lines in this fic but this one never fails to make me laugh so it remains my fav.

"You- you-" She sputters at him, flailing around a little. "You were the one that started mailing me pieces of a dead body."

"You blocked my number." Rio snarls, which is not what he'd meant to say, and he hates that she trips him up.

"That is not a proportionate response!"

—

got a kiss (with your name on it)

it was this or the text exchange at the beginning of the fic bc I strongly believe established relationship brio would continually roast each other for their past dumbassery but the elizabeth kink won out

"Come here," Rio's voice is thick but insistent in a way that brings every cell of Beth's body to attention. She hooks her thumb over her bottom teeth and drags her lower lip a little, a gesture full of who me mock innocence, waiting for him to say-

"Elizabeth." There it is.

There's an endless amount of things that Beth finds ferociously, irresistibly sexy about Rio, but when he says her full name in that commanding tone? Even if she's pissed the fuck off and has no intention of doing what he wants, it gives her goosebumps.

—

say it’s all in my head (i remember what you said)

I will be real with y’all, I forget I wrote this fic a lot of the time hahahaha but! that means every time I’m reminded I go back and am like oh yeah! I like this! anyway there isn’t like, one specific but I really love most as much as I really like the tentative breathless nervousness and then also overwhelming so muchness and I like how this but captures both of those

For a single, breathless moment, she stands in the middle of the room, alone and terrified.

Then Rio wets his lips and comes towards her, moving with that languid grace she's never been able to look away from even before she had any idea why that could be.

All of the fear collapses like a dying star, sending a supernova of relief and molten heat zinging through her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Her head swims, and every cell in her body feels like it's leaning towards him- like she's made of magnets on a molecular level and he's the lodestone.

He gently pushes her bangs off of her forehead, slowly running his fingertip down the side of her face, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He tilts his head towards hers and stops, going no further than halfway, leaving it up to her to close the distance.

She lets her eyes fall shut as she leans into him and tentatively touches her mouth to his for the first time.

—

the world is on fire (and no one can save me) / what a wicked game you played (to make me feel this way)

two for one!!! idk if either of these is my number one favorite line from either fic individually but I really like how they both play together. I like writing beth and rio pov and having them mirror each other’s narration both in thought and structure a lot bc I like thinking of them as two versions of the same

Beth checks her phone, nothing from Rhea, and sends a quick I'm here, text me when you're close, and I'll grab a table before wetting a paper towel and wiping away the last of her smeared mascara. With precise, brisk movements, she snaps open her bag and fishes out her compact, her lipstick, and her mascara; lining them up click, click, click on the tiny shelf below the mirror.

She can live with this; she has to live like this; she will live like this.

She flips open the compact and methodically dabs away the flush and pallor and shadows that are not grief, are not loss, are not anything other than shock and horror that she'd gone so far, that she'd lost control, that she'd killed a man (that man).

and

So what the fuck had he been doin' with Elizabeth fuckin' Boland, giving her chance after chance to cross the line? What the fuck was the point of a line if it might as well not be there at all? All because he liked her big blue eyes and the way she worked a tight sweater? Nah, that ain't him. That can't be him. That's the kind of shit that'll get you killed, and he's got three spent bullets in his pocket and a scar next to his heart if he ever needs the reminder again. 

He shifts in the driver's seat, reaching into his pocket and fishing the bullets out. Lining them up on the dashboard with a definitive click, click, click. He looks past them to the brightly lit valet station. He's been parked in the back of the lot for ten minutes now, waiting for Rhea to give him the go sign. He ain't hiding, doesn't need to, Elizabeth ain't lookin' for him, he just wants to make sure he sees her before she sees him. Get a good look first, so he can size up the situation.

[scribeofred]

Thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the tag!

 1. What fandoms have you written for?

This is embarrassing but I actually had to look at both FFnet and AO3 because I couldn’t remember all of them. TRON: Legacy, Assassin’s Creed, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit, Sherlock, Final Fantasy VII and XV and Kingsglaive, Voltron: Legendary Defender, Merlin, Skyrim, and, of course, Thunderbirds. I have a couple other fandoms that crop up in various wips, including a Tom Swift/Thunderbirds crossover that I really should finish.

2. How many works do you have on AO3 &/or FFNet?

FFnet has 45, and AO3 has 41. There’s also a couple stories lurking on tumblr, notably a final chapter for Reflection.

3. What are your top 3 fics by kudos on A03 &/or Favs on FFNet?

AO3 dominates in this area, if I can use a word like “dominates” for stories that have less than 125 kudos each haha. Oh well, the numbers don’t matter!

1.     118 kudos on tell the shades apart (my world is black and white)

2.     94 kudos on Reflection

3.     91 kudos on The 43rd Hour

4. Which 3 fics have the least kudos & Favs?

Again on AO3:

1 kudos on I Am You (And You Are Me)

5 kudos on The Dragonborn Chronicles

6 kudos on cynosure

5. Which Fic has the most comments and which has the least?

Reflection has the most at 29 threads, and I Am You (And You Are Me) has the least at zero.

6. Which complete fic do you wish had gotten more attention?

Lodestar, definitely. Sure, it’s for something of a rarepair, but they aren’t that rare, and I just really really like the way the story came together. On the other hand, of course my unfinished Merlin fic has gotten probably the most attention, because that’s just the way it goes, eh?

7. Have you written any crossovers?

None that I’ve published! I have various crossovers lurking in mostly unfinished states, including the aforementioned Tom Swift/Thunderbirds crossover, and an Assassin’s Creed/Thundeerbirds crossover that is very good and I should also finish. There’s an Expanse/Thunderbirds fic lurking in my brain that I may or may not ever commit to paper, who knows. I’ve also very vaguely toyed with a Batman/Thunderbirds crossover, in the sense that “nebulous” is too strong a word for the kind of toying I’ve been doing.

8. What is the craziest fic you’ve written?

I don’t really write crazy or crack or humor in general, so probably the closest thing to “crazy” is On the Lam, which was the result of wanting to throw Scott and Penelope toward an Egyptian stud farm. It ended up being the host for a bad joke about that, courtesy of one @thebaconsandwichofregret, who consistently gives some of the best dialogue advice I’ve ever encountered.

Actually, the true answer is probably a chapter in Glimpses into a Supernova, maybe the one about blood? It seems bonkers when I think back on it now, but I admittedly haven’t read it in many years. Possibly I am misremembering. Glimpses has some weird ones, though.

9. What’s the fic you’ve written with the saddest ending?

It’s a tossup between The Painting and a place where the water touches the sky. The former deals with a prior off-screen death; the latter is (maybe??) an on-screen death. People seemed upset by it, at any rate. I said it was ambiguous!

10. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

“Happy” is probably a matter of perspective? Depends on the overall reading experience and the ending within that context. Either septet or Three Towels and a Tracy, they’re both pretty fluffy overall.

11. What is your smuttiest fic?

protoinstincts, which I completely forgot I wrote and then rediscovered like a year later and realized “hey, this is actually pretty good” and you know what, despite it not being overly spicy, it is pretty good.

12. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate, per se, but someone left a review on Less Than Nothing saying they “didn’t like” that I “wrote the story as a series of drabbles.” Cool, I didn’t write the story for you, random guest reader, and the back button exists, friend 😂 It didn’t bother me on a personal level because I wrote the fic for an audience of one (incidentally, not myself and rather the recipient of a secret santa event), but I was mad because the reviewer had no way of knowing where I was at as a writer, and I know from longtime observation how that kind of comment can crush less experienced or confident writers.

Don’t leave flames, kids, you don’t understand the power your words have. Don’t like, don’t read.

13. What is the nicest comment you’ve received?

The nicest? Goodness. Hmm. I’d have to go hunting to find the nicest, but in recent memory, @ayzrules sent me a couple passages from Spanish texts she’s been studying that reminded her of my writing, and I was honestly so touched by the fact that she even thought to make such comparisons, much less mention them to me. Taking the time to familiarize yourself with someone’s style until you can make comparisons between it and someone else’s work is so much more meaningful to me personally than a basic “Nice story!” or “Loved this!” type of comment ever could be. <3 Ayz <3

14. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of, but I’ve never gone looking on any sort of copycat site or whatever either.

15. How many fics do you have marked as incomplete?

Two. First is The Dragonborn Chronicles, which is a retelling of Skyrim from Lydia’s perspective via her journal, to complement the in-game journal. It’s a slog of a style to write, though, even for someone who loves writing first person and doesn’t really want to write a lot of dialogue, and the outline is huge, and the story will be many times more huge, and just. Some day. Some day.

Second is tell the shades apart (my world is black and white), which has always been unfinished because the outline itself is over seven thousand words and the fully written story would undoubtedly land between 100,000 and 200,000 words, and there’s no way I’m writing that. I’ve always meant to upload the outline, but I got kind of self-conscious about the way I formatted it, and ugh I just haven’t bothered. One day, one day, right?

Moral of the story is I’m intensely a short story writer, and I’ve really found myself settling into that role over the last couple years. Better a clipped, punchy short story than a bloated slog of an epic.

16. Which of the WIPS will most likely be finished first?

Literally no one knows that. I wrote 95% of the observable entropy of a closed system over five years ago, and then I proceeded to pull it out roughly once a year and write and rewrite various endings until last month, which was when I finally figured out how I wanted to end the story. septet, too, languished for about five years before I finally remembered it existed and managed to wrangle an ending. Endings are hard, man. So are those third plot points. Terrible creatures, those, bog me down every time.

17. Which WIP are you looking forward to finishing?

Uh... mm. See. If I were looking forward to finishing any of them, I’d be actively working on them. At this moment, writing fic isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities, but I am also coming off a four-day idle game bender, so I still feel like I haven’t quite reengaged with myself as a living person. Give me another few days and I might have an answer.

(I am always most looking forward to finishing this ridiculous Ignis-drives-the-Audi-R8 fic that’s been languishing in my wips for literal years. As mentioned above, third plot points. Killer, man.)

(oh and also the working-titled the art of murder. Scott and Penny attend a private art auction. Things don’t go to plan. It, too, is stuck at the third plot point. I know, I know I have a problem, shush.)

18. Is there a WIP that you’re considering abandoning?

Any wip has the potential to be revived—this year and the old wips I’ve unearthed, dusted off, finished, and posted have been proof of that. I don’t intentionally permanently abandon anything for that reason, some stories just probably will remain dusty old wips forever because I didn’t actually need or want to write the full story for one reason or another.

19. Which complete fic would you consider rewriting?

Now that’s an interesting question. Hmm! Honestly? None of them. Once I finish a story, I’m not inclined toward rereading it again any time soon, to the point of years in some cases, and I feel like I’ve moved on from the stories I wrote one, two, five, eight years ago in the actual writing sense. They’re finished stories, and on top of that are relics of their time, which doesn’t mean the stories don’t have any ongoing significance on a reading level—I just don’t have any interest in rewriting those particular stories. I’ve gotten them out of my head, to the point of not remembering at least a third of them on demand anymore, and I don’t have any desire to “retell” those exact stories. I do tend to tighten the wording and fix perceived errors/weaknesses whenever I do end up rereading an old story, and I usually silently update the AO3 version if I make any significant changes because AO3 makes it a breeze to update a posted fic. I might do FFnet too if I’m feeling up to it or have the time.

20. Which complete fic is your favourite?

Once upon a time I would’ve said Holding On, but I honestly find it kind of unbearably melodramatic now. the observable entropy of a closed system is equally melodramatic, as it was written in the same era, but at least it has the excuse of being told in second person and via a style that is a half step away from being poetry. Possibly I will reread it in a few years and find it equally obnoxious and overly dramatic, but it received some shockingly positive comments, which I wasn’t expecting at ALL, and I’ve been honestly blown away by the amount of praise it’s received. <3 to everyone who’s said anything about it!

21. What’s your total published word count?

141,000 on AO3, 160,000 on FFnet, but technically the light of my life SS wrote fifty thousand words of each. It’s too late for math.

 I tag @velkynkarma, @lurkinglurkerwholurks, @writtenbyrain, @thebaconsandwichofregret, and anyone else who wants to play!

[larksinging]

i was not myself, but i was love i felt ♦ hinanami

a gift for @transrobro for buying me a bunch of games a while back. i was gonna write you fic but never got around to finishing so heres a playlist for ur current fav ship. i mean its also for me but its a GIFT so

(art credit in playlist)

tracklist: 

sweet hibiscus tea - penelope scott // cut my hair - mounika & cavetown // saint bernand - lincoln // how to never stop being sad - dandelion hands // its called: freefall - rainbow kitten surprise // vanity - yuki kajiura // spools of thread - an unkindness // lack - todd slant // rolling girl - wowaka // you’re somebody else - flora cash // tapedeck - silversun pickups // porcelain - mariana’s trench // into the past - nero // sometime around midnight - airborne toxic event // wait by the river - lord huron // amen - amber run // dearly departed - marianas trench // hated by life itself - cover by raon lee // remains - bastille & rag’n’bones man & skunk ananise // your ex-lover is dead (final fantasy) - stars // weights & measures - dry the river // spanish sahara - foals // saturn - sleeping at last

[themattress]

Battle of the Seasons

Gotham: Season 1 vs. Season 2 vs. Season 3 vs. Season 4 vs. Season 5

Let's take this season by season, shall we?

Season 1 has a different style to it than the rest, being more of a grounded, gritty police procedural with cases-of-the-week (or two weeks) while both an overarching mob drama and an overarching mystery (who killed Thomas and Martha Wayne?) play out on the side. This is a frustrating season for me because this style could have worked - if I gave a damn about a majority of the characters, and I just don't. I don't care about Jim Gordon, Harvey Bullock, Sarah Essen, Barbara Kean, Selina Kyle, Ed Nygma, Kristen Kringle, Leslie Thompkins, Ivy Pepper, Commissioner Loeb, Mayor James, Harvey Dent, Renee Montoya, Crispus Allen, Fish Mooney, Sal Maroni, Carmine Falcone, Butch Gilzean, Victor Zsasz or many other of this city’s miserable people. They're either boring, annoying, or utterly unpleasant, which means that I often found myself watching the show out of obligation rather than truly enjoying it. 

The exceptions to the rule would be the young Bruce Wayne and his hardass yet caring butler Alfred Pennyworth (and Selina whenever she's around them, as the chemistry she has with them really brings her character to life), and, of course, the show's breakout character: Oswald Cobblepot, the man who will become the Penguin. David Mazouz, Sean Pertwee and Robin Lord Taylor sell these roles so perfectly that I just couldn't look away from the screen whenever they were on it. And while I love Oswald the whole series through, I do need to mention that this is the only season where he comes off as legitimately intimidating to me: his murderous rage can be a little over-the-top but it's anchored with a patience and a calculated skill for manipulation that makes him a force to be reckoned with as he climbs the ladder of power all the way to becoming the leader of Gotham's mob (”I’M THE KING OF GOTHAM!!!")

Season 2 is split into two distinct halves, with 2A being the "Rise of the Villains" story arc and 2B being the "Wrath of the Villains" story arc. Very quickly, it becomes apparent that the show has undergone a massive improvement - not only is it more serialized than procedural-based which ends up working better for it, but many of the characters I didn't care for are gone now, and most of the ones still left I'm finally made to care for: I actually like Harvey Bullock, Barbara Kean, Selina Kyle (on her own, not just w/ Bruce and Alfred), Ed Nygma, Ivy Pepper, Leslie Thompkins, Butch Gilzean and Victor Zsasz now, and they are now complimented by even more great characters like Lucius Fox, Nathaniel Barnes, Theo and Tabitha Galavan, Jerome Valeska, Silver St. Cloud, Bridgit Pike, Victor Fries, and Professor Hugo Strange. 

The only weak link remaining is, ironically enough, the lead character himself, Jim Gordon. Maybe this character would have been interesting if he was someone else, but I never buy him as the future Commissioner. Ben McKenzie's try-hard edgy performance doesn't help.

In terms of the story arcs themselves, I like them both but much prefer "Wrath" to "Rise". "Rise" deals with Theo Galavan's rise to power in Gotham, with it revealing that he is actually the chief agent of the Order of St. Dumas, a secret society that desires the death of "the son of Gotham" - namely, Bruce Wayne. Most of what I like about this arc comes from the side stories and character development; I never really got into the central plot thread. James Frain, while good, doesn't hold the same villainous presence here that he does in, say, Elementary, and given how obviously evil he and his sister are it got tiring to see them score win after win over the good guys until the last minute. Also, certain interesting characters such as Richard Sionis, Jerome Valeska, Silver St. Cloud, Bridgit Pike and Butch Gilzean are shamefully wasted. Lastly, early into the arc the show actually makes Alfred unlikable, and since he's one of my favorite characters from the first season, that really hurt to watch.

"Wrath" deals with Professor Hugo Strange and his insidious secret experiments in Indian Hill, an underground division of Wayne Enterprises beneath Arkham Asylum that holds the key to the Wayne murder mystery. This arc just seems to flow together more smoothly than its predecessor, its contents are the type of overarching mystery I'd wanted the show to explore since the beginning rather than all the diversions from false leads, mafia wars and religious cults infiltrating the city's political structure, it provides pay-offs that I'd long been waiting for, and Professor Hugo Strange as played by B.D Wong is the perfect Big Bad. My one quibble with this arc is the decision to resurrect Fish Mooney at the end - I never cared much for her, she had a good enough ending in Season 1, and the revived, superpowered version of her ultimately accomplishes jack-squat in Season 3 before dying again anyway.

Season 3 is just one story arc, centering around the conspiracy of the Court of Owls that secretly controls all levels of power in Gotham, but its first two thirds go under the title of "Mad City" while its final third goes under "Heroes Rise". There is a good reason for this, as the events of "Mad City" see things at their bleakest yet for the forces of good in Gotham, with the forces of evil seemingly unstoppable, which makes the turning of the tide in "Heroes Rise" all the more gratifying. It’s a textbook “it’s always darkest before the dawn” storyline.

I greatly enjoy this season. There are certainly some flaws here and there - Jamie Chung's Valerie Vale is done dirty, I still can't get invested in Jim Gordon no matter how hard the show is trying to make me, and the way the writers drive a wedge between Oswald and Ed is some of the worst writing the show has ever had - the break-up ultimately needed to happen, but it didn't need to happen like this! However, so much more is done right here: the Court of Owls' portrayal, Bruce's further development, Bruce's creepy doppelganger Subject 514A aka the future Owlman, the show's depiction of the Mad Hatter and how pivotal he ends up being to the plot, Captain Barnes’ descent into madness and becoming the Executioner, Selina and Ivy just being awesome both individually and together, further great comedy from the likes of Harvey Bullock and Barbara Kean, the more interesting usage of Carmine Falcone via his "legit" son Mario who in turn helps Lee become even more interesting, the return of Jerome Valeska as the Beta Joker, Ed fully transitioning into the Riddler, Oswald finally embracing himself as a "freak" and ultimately getting his revenge on Ed, and the finale which introduces Ra's Al Ghul (played to perfection by Alexander Siddig) as he engages in a Batman Begins-style plot where he unleashes a virus that threatens to make Gotham tear itself apart.

However, there is one major drawback for Season 3...in spite of all this great stuff, it ultimately amounts to just being more set-up. And as such, all of the big dramatic conclusions that are reached by the end get completely reversed early into the following season. Bruce and Alfred have a rift with Selina? Mended shortly into Season 4! Bruce has dedicated himself to being a vigilante? He'll walk that back soon enough! Oswald is back in power and owns the Iceberg Longue? Not for much longer! Ivy works for Oswald? She'll be done with his shit by the end of the Season 4 premiere! Ed is frozen? He's thawed out a mere three episodes into Season 4, and the negative effect to his brain from being frozen don't even last! Lee leaves Gotham in order to escape her dark side? Nope, she's back in the city and her dark side continues to grow. Butch and Barbara are dead? Aha, they're both back alive! The loss of big characters like Nathaniel Barnes and Fish Mooney? Never mentioned again! And of course, there's the presence of Ra's Al Ghul and the League of Shadows as the group behind the Court of Owls, which just goes to show that despite all the build-up, the Court of Owls was never truly the end-all be-all force of evil in Gotham, so this show ain't over yet.

Season 4, "A Dark Knight" is kind of Season 3's equal yet opposite. There is a lot of stuff in it that doesn't quite work for me, moreso in the execution rather than the conception - Alexander Siddig as Ra's Al Ghul credited as a regular and yet only actually showing up in the first few and last few episodes, Oswald being betrayed and losing all of his power again, Ivy Pepper's long-awaited transformation into Poison Ivy taking ten whole bloody episodes, Ed's severe case of Badass Decay and pointless romance with Lee, Butch's transformation into Solomon Grundy not lasting or amounting to anything important which makes me question why it even happened, the Sirens being formed and also not lasting or amounting to anything important, Bruce's long period of being unlikable (far moreso than even Alfred's period back in 2A), and the Beta Joker only turning out to be the Beta Joker because his twin brother whom we'd never seen or heard of before shows up to become the real Joker!

However, there is also a lot that does work for me - Harvey Bullock finally ascending from just comic relief and having some well-executed character development as he clashes with Jim, Lee's arc of becoming the leader of the Narrows, Oswald's touching relationship with a young orphan boy and his reconciliation with Ed, Ra's Al Ghul whenever he is around, Professor Pyg who is equal parts terrifying and comical and played masterfully by Michael Cerveris, Sofia Falcone who - being a sociopathic master manipulator who even manages to serve Jim a permanent and well-deserved defeat - is hands-down one of the most brilliant villains the show has ever had, and the perfectly-done sense of escalation and excitement throughout the second half of the season which concludes in the best season finale in the series' history, where the good guys contend with a team-up between Ra's Al Ghul and the Joker. And that's what Season 4 has over Season 3 - it builds to a true climax for the entire show's story, almost everything that goes down in the end is permanent (emphasis on almost - looking at you, Lee and Ed), and it retroactively makes the lack of pay-off in Season 3 and the less-than-desirable parts of this season worth it. It made me grateful for sticking with this show.

Season 5, titled "Legend of the Dark Knight", is the show's final season, and its biggest strength is also its biggest weakness - it is a truncated season, lasting only 12 episodes. On the one hand, this is perfectly appropriate - the Season 4 finale was the story's climax and there's not much left to do, so having roughly half a normal season's length for the falling action and wrapping up of all loose ends makes total logical sense. But on the other hand, there are certain ideas for plotlines and character arc resolutions that end up feeling incredibly rushed due to the shorter runtime. It feels like they are rushing down a long checklist rather than allowing anything proper breathing room. Also: yes, a lot of Season 3 and Season 4 clearly borrowed from Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, but they did it in clever ways. This season shamefully rips off The Dark Knight Rises by having a plot inspired by the No Man's Land storyline from the comics, a big focus on the relationship between Bruce and Selina, the main hero (Jim Gordon in this case) falling to his lowest point before rising again, the final battle being between the GCPD and Bane's army, and having the main villain be Bane except that he's actually working for the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul (Nyssa in this case) who was masquerading as someone else! Did the writers really think that they could outright cheat off of Christopher Nolan's homework and that viewers wouldn't notice!?

In the end, my ranking is Season 3 = Season 4 > Season 2 > Season 5 > Season 1. 

I think that Seasons 3 and 4 are equally strong but hold just the slightest personal preference for Season 3, Season 2 is also really good and mainly just suffers from its adequate first story arc being weaker than its more interesting second story arc, Season 5 is a middling season that somehow manages to be both the ideal conclusion for the show and a less-than-ideal conclusion at the same time, and Season 1 is the weakest due to all of the growing pains the show had to go through before it could become entertaining on a consistent level and make me care about most of its characters. On the whole, Gotham is a well-executed series. It’s far from perfect, but it could have been far worse....it could have been Smallville! (Cue rimshot!)

[terriblygrimm]

(x) hi im this anon back with my (ir)regularly scheduled steve is coming back agenda: so when variants get pruned they get teleported to alternate reality purgotary right. and loki gets sent to alt reality “new york” where all the variant lokis are right. so. what if the st*ggy [derogatory] dance we saw was a variant steve. what if the real steve got pruned and is in his own alt reality purgotary. OR what if the real steve is in timecell prison thing that mobius sent loki to. what if they replay the last interaction he had with bucky on loop as punishment. some may say this is delusional i say this is manifestation. again. its going to happen he’s coming back.

I DIDNT KNOW THAT WAS ALTERNATE REALITY NEW YORK IM DDSJSJKAKFN that combined w the jfk high school pen in the first (or second?) ep definitely alludes to our man steve being somewhere!!!! i agree anon!!!

OK BUCKLE UP

i always thought he was either gonna be stuck in dimension z (like in the comics), or in his own time prison (with bucky falling from the train or vanishing in the blip as punishment - steve’s most haunting and fearful memory). so this alt dimension where all the lokis are could be dimension z! or a way to leading to it!

i gotta differ with one thing tho & say i think the dance he had with peg was “real”. marvel is too stupid not to have that be “real” for the general audience at the time, and i also don’t think marvel had everything planned that far ahead. i think maybe that’s gonna turn out to be (one of) steve’s time crimes, as brief as he intended it to be. i see it as steve paying vig on an old promise before he moved on to return the stones, but the tva caught him and intervened. and he either:

1. outsmarted them and kept hopping dimensions, kind of like sylvie, ending up in dimension z, and he’s gonna be this grizzled time traveler next time we see him

2. has been caught and is in time prison with the time loop of bucky falling

3. has been caught and is the tva’s best (brainwashed) agent. he gets the BIG missions, which is why we haven’t seen him yet. he’s the big gun. in the jfk pen scene, ravonna commented it was from one of their most valuable and efficient agents, so she could theoretically call on steve now that loki has exposed everything. steve could easily be a tva cog, and marvel could finally (momentarily) live their weird hydra/brainwashed cap fantasy. this mirrors bucky as well, which i keep mentioning i’m big about - and a thread of connection i think marvel will keep going between them.

4. OR the steve we’ll eventually see is just a variant steve, and the real steve’s whereabouts will remain unknown and yet to be determined.

and it ALSO just hit me that being pruned and being reset are two different things. so being reset puts ppl back into their “correct” timeline with no memory of divergence, which theoretically could be old!steve? i guess? but why is he old, so i don’t entirely believe that one or have a way of connecting it.

and being pruned relocates them entirely, essentially being banished. which seems the most likely option for our fav NOMAD who says f*ck you and your rules at any and all times

either way i can’t wait to see him again!!! WE’RE MANIFESTING IT ANON ⚡️🔮

[furorem-yandere]

This one might be mean but yandre Medic where the reader enjoys seeing him grovel? Like the reader does love Medic but man, it's hot when he begs for her attention

Medic is my main!!! And probably my fav!!! We stan. Medic is kind of a canon yandere isn’t he? (Loosely based off the voice line demo has about fucking medic’s wife)

Typically I feel like he likes to be the one being begged, but if you can get a leash on him, he’ll let you lead him around like a blind horse. Only if you give him the incentive though, of course.

“Hello boys,” you acknowledged politely.

Medic’s entire frame straightened at the familiar voice. His eyes widened as he looked up from his notes. It couldn’t be…?!

The Demoman let out a cheer, raising his bottle, sending his cards flying. “AYE, MISSY LUDWIG RETURNS! Bless, lass! How’ve ya been?”

“Charming as always, Tavish,” you say with a sniff. “Not so bad, I suppose. Yourself?” The others had probably written it off as aloofness, but both Tavish and Ludwig knew that it was fondness sparkling in your eyes behind the bland expression.

It boiled The Medic’s blood.

And so, Medic practically sprinted up while your back was turned. He knew you heard him, it would have been impossible to ignore the fall of a chair, the hasty recovery of it and himself, and the heavy stomps of his work boots before skidding to a stop a breath behind you. He hastily combed his hair with his fingers and straightened his lab coat.  The Medic retied his formerly undone tie and redid the buttons.  He then folded his arms behind his back politely but couldn’t contain the elated grin on his face, nearly vibrating with excitement. He raised a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat.

You turned your head slowly, letting your hair fall over your eyes just the way you knew he liked. Everything about you was careful and confident, completely concise in every way and yet still honest.

The roil of jealousy in his veins cooled instantly, seeing the fondness for Demoman turned to deep, pure love for him and just him. Elation lifted him high and he could barely say the words he spoke each time you saw one another. “Hello, mein Schatz,” he breathes.

Your mouth breaks its bland disinterest for a small smile. “Hello, lovely”. You raise a hand and he takes it immediately, pressing kiss after kiss to your knuckles and making his way up your arm to your neck, slowly and greedily drawing you in and away from Demoman. He hears you laugh quietly in his ear as he presses kisses to your neck.  He hears a few wolf whistles behind him but ignores it in favor of nuzzling into you.  They could be jealous all they wanted.

You press a hand to his chest and he reluctantly backs away. “I missed you so much!”

Your eyes slide from his to the side, face turning a delicious shade of pink. “…It’s boring without you at home,” you finally settle on. His grin widens happily, used to your feigned aloofness. “I miss looking in the fridge and finding heads”.

“I could send you some if you like!” He says, eager to please.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll just be patient, I think”. You turn to the table. “I hope I’m not interrupting. Would it trouble you if I asked for you to deal me in?” you ask with a charming kind of coolness.

There’s a mumble of wary agreement around the table. Medic pulls his chair out and sits obediently, staring at you expectantly and watches you smirk slightly. He preens under the look, because he knows she’s proud she didn’t have to ask this time.

They deal her in.  Medic abstains from the game, simply watching her moves as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulling your back to his chest with a relaxed sigh.  He rests his chin at the top of your head and closes his eyes a moment with a contented smile.

“Fuck, man, I’ve neva’ seen ‘im like dat befoa’“ Scout huffs, amazed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, boy,” he hears you say under his chin.  He cracks his eyes to see the table halfhandedly admiring how in control you were of the doctor.  “He’s always like this”.

He’s seeing red, and not just the team outfits. He’s not sure how he got to punching Demoman’s lights out, but he’s got thoughts rumbling in his head like new thunder. The voice in the back of his head is roaring howls of taking the man’s legs, teeth, maybe just turn him into a severed head or put his consciousness into a bottle of scotch. Maybe some time away from his dick would do him some good, and he’d learn not to try and steal what was his.

A hand on his shoulder makes him freeze, fist inches from the bleeding Scot’s face. “Ludwig,” he hears whispered. Your breath is hot but it feels like a cold knife at his throat. You press against his back and he shivers, sudden visions of pythons measuring their prey before swallowing flickering through his head. Tavish grins bloodily but the rise of anger isn’t enough to make his fist move. “You’re disappointing me. If you’re bad, you won’t get your treat”.

He remains frozen. 

“Let him go, love”.  Your tone is deadly.

He releases Demoman, who triumphantly struts back in silence. “Now,” she begins and Ludwig knows this is where he plays his part and repents.  When her hand hits his shoulder and pushes he goes down almost numbly.  It’s quiet in his head now.  No one can quiet him down like you and your commands. “Beg”.

He feels tears rush up to his eyes. He grabs fistfuls of her dress skirt and pulls them to his face, whispering just loud enough for her to hear. It’s rambling, full of mixed up words of both German and English, her hand coming down to his hair. When Ludwig finally slows to a stop she threads her fingers through his hair and pulls his head back by them. Her gaze is cold, but forgiving. “Very good,” she praises idly, pulling him back up. “Now: behave. I mean it”.

Then, the tears are gone and he feels so much better all at once. He’s smiling and nuzzling into her neck. “Thank you, mein Schatz, I’m sorry”.

“I know you are,” you brush off and he kind of droops when you turn around and give your attention to Tavish.  He thinks hes pushing his luck, but he’s a bit desperate for attention and so he hunches a bit to set his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your middle again.  Surprisingly, you let him, and raise a hand.  “And Tavish,” you begin, giving the Scot an almost offhand look.  He watches Demoman sort of freeze, pausing from holding a bloodied paper towel to his now fixed broken nose.  “If you ever try to insinuate that I’m unfaithful again... I won’t be very inclined to stop him, and I guarantee that you’ll be leaving with less limbs than you came in with; it’s pretty likely he won’t put them back on, either”.

Medic grins madly from atop his perch, watching the Demoman’s grin turn shaky.

God, did he love when you reduced him to something of a guard dog.

[beeblackburn]

Don't you think you have to be obsessed (in a good way) with ASOIAF to fully appreciate FeastDance? At least that's what I concluded. I wasn't a fan of it at first for having so many new characters and so many new plotlines. I'd forget what was happening with Quentyn, for instance. I missed the Starklings and the simpler AGOT. But then, after re-reading the whole thing, reading metas about it, re-searching about the history of Westeros... Then those two became favs too!

Thanks for the question!

Hmmm, fully appreciate? Yes, I do in a sense. Reading up on The World of Ice and Fire certainly enriches the reading experience of Dorne and the Iron Islands’ arcs with historical heft behind them, how they dealt with their struggles for cultural conception and independence. Cersei’s relationship with the Faith, and the Faith as an institution, is better understood by reading up on the context of Maegor with them back during his blasphemous dragon days. 

Reading about the Dance of Dragons and the Blackfyre Rebellions will certainly make Aegon and Dany’s upcoming dance all the more tragic and echoing in a historical context as our two dragons, black or red, will devour one or the other. It’ll make Arianne and Connington’s struggles all the more crushing as one tries to assert her rightful place as heir from her brother and the other tries to seat the right dragon on the throne… only for tragedy to claim them both.

Plus, C’thulhu. Also, Euron Bloodeye is totally the Bloodstone Emperor-Come-Again. Mock him at your own peril.

There are historical, thematic, magical and genre threads woven through the seams of FeastDance and Martin’s already ignited relatively small, yet intense in an intimate scale, fires out of them. They’ve always been there and, through dialogue, meta and re-reading, do we see the strings that led to history repeating and casting aflame at this age of Westeros. Though, once Martin starts burning more fires out of these threads in The Winds of Winter, (he’s already doing it in Arianne’s preview chapters) I’m sure people will appreciate the FeastDance more without being obsessed (in the best way) with ASoIaF.

Though… I will relate my personal reading experience in response to not being a fan of having so many new characters and new plotlines on the heels of A Storm of Swords (though I’m sympathetic to that standpoint to a certain degree.) 

A Storm of Swords had Martin blowing up his chessboard in spectacular fashion, sweeping the board in the titular storm and toppling his pieces. Through bloodshed, treason, conquest and intrigue, chaos and breakdown of the old systems was seeping deeper into Westeros, doom spreading across all the kingdoms and teams we invested ourselves in, be it in love or hate. 

The end of that book found us knee-deep in the midst of bloodied regions we had spent three books in, littered with dead kings and important lords and ladies. Whether it was Jeor getting stabbed in the back at Craster’s Keep, Tywin’s crossbow wound rotting in the privy, Joffrey choking on from his poisoned chalice, Oberyn’s head getting smashed against the Red Keep’s outer ward, Balon’s body feeding the crabs in the Ironman’s Bay, Kraznys turning to charred meat in the hell of Astapor or Robb’s blood soaking into the Twins’ bricks, everything about A Storm of Swords’ conclusion suggested no return to status quo.

So, from that standpoint, I was expecting a relative clean slate and piece-setting coming into A Feast for Crows. He left several realms in smoke and ash through a breathless second-half of the prior book, so he would need to set the next book at a breather pace. There was also the aftermaths of those events to address as well. Getting to know new characters would both help us readers catch our breaths from the prior storm and give himself time to set pieces on his board for new storms and explosions and climaxes to pay-off for later.

Plus, A Storm of Swords set us up for most of those new plotlines, so I was prepared for them. At least, it gave Martin an open door if he ever wanted to explore them or go further in-depth with them:

No sooner had he left the king’s pavilion than the Greatjon began to laugh, but Robb silenced him with a look. “Euron Greyjoy is no man’s notion of a king, if half of what Theon said of him was true. Theon is the rightful heir, unless he’s dead … but Victarion commands the Iron Fleet. I can’t believe he would remain at Moat Cailin while Euron Crow’s Eye holds the Seastone Chair. He has to go back.”

“He may indeed crown Tommen, here in King’s Landing. Which is not to say that my brother may not crown Myrcella, down in Sunspear. Will your father make war on your niece on behalf of your nephew? Will your sister?”

“Just listen,” he snapped, angered by her assumption. “I want you to find Sansa first, and get her somewhere safe. How else are the two of us going to make good our stupid vows to your precious dead Lady Catelyn?”

Sandor said, “The Blackfish is still in Riverrun?”

“Not for long,” said Polliver. “He’s under siege. Old Frey’s going to hang Edmure Tully unless he yields the castle. The only real fighting’s around Raventree. Blackwoods and Brackens. The Brackens are ours now.”

Now, I’m sympathetic to the confusion and logistics of new characters and plotlines bursting out the woodshed for some readers, but I love the world and characters of ASoIaF. So when the double-punch of Aeron and Areo’s respective chapters opened my eyes to entirely new regions (or new facets of old regions in Aeron’s case) and characters that we were promised in A Storm of Swords we’d see in the next book, I was pretty appeased! And I was curious where they’d be going (and I wasn’t disappointed on that score.)

Plus, I’m a reader who generally presumes every subplot/plot in a book is leading somewhere that connects to the greater whole/isn’t going to be a waste. So with all the new plots in FeastDance, I was keeping an open mind. Yes, it was expanding, but I figured if anyone could rein in this series so that every part of it matters, it was Martin. So, I consumed every new POV with the notion that it affected or was going to affect the story from a thematic or plot standpoint. Yes, even Quentyn and his trip to hell…

I didn’t really miss the Starklings in a sense because, after A Storm of Swords and the heartbreak done to the Starks there, I wanted a break from Stark and Northern affairs (except Sansa, I’ll read Sansa chapters any day.) I wanted new characters and the stories that arose from them because the Starklings were one flavor of story in an increasingly expanding narrative... and you just can’t get flavors of stories like Aeron’s or Arianne’s or Brienne’s by staying only with the Starklings.

So, for me, A Feast for Crows was a delicious cake to take in. Yes, the re-reading, meta consuming and searching up history parallels was absolutely the ice cream icing on the cake, but, even on my first read, I was satisfied because it took its time, breathed in the crow-strewn air and opened me to a greater scope that I realized I wasn’t inhabiting until that moment. That and the belief that it would all lead to even bigger climaxes than A Storm of Swords.

And it will. The Winds of Winter’s preview chapters already promise big developments for the Iron Islands and Dorne plots. Which wouldn’t have landed as hard if Martin didn’t take his time to elaborate and set those pieces in the FeastDance.

And lastly... I mean, this is a series where the minimal page count per book is, at least, 800 pages. If I’m reading books that thick and long, I want to inhabit these books and the characters’ lives. I read Martin for the same reason I read Robin Hobb: to walk and breathe a realm so human and relatable, yet vividly different in key facets, from mine. This story was made for rereads, analyses, in-depth thinking, brimming with real and complicated themes. 

So, I imagine, if we’re all willing to read books over 800 pages, we must already be a little obsessed (in a good way.) Maybe. :3

Hope this satisfies!

[followmetoyourdoom]

Childhood // Chpt 2: The Raid

So for Lolirock Appreciation Week I knew I might not have time to do all the prompts so here is Day 1 and Day 2 combined in the form of a new chapter about the twins childhood, since Praxina and Mephisto are my fav female and male characters respectively.

Homeless, orphaned, and with only each other to cling to. How will the twins survive; and where is their Papi?

Read it on ao3 or below:

Days had past. Maybe even weeks, the twins didn't know. All they knew was that every day was a fight for survival. They lived in the ruins of their once beloved kingdom, the streets unrecognisable, and the few people that remained, fundamentally changed.

Their uncle, Papi, was not one of them. Neither Praxina nor Mephisto could find him, and soon they started checking the bodies they came across.

Just in case.

Praxina's hand was still wrapped in blood encrusted rags, the cut too deep to have fully healed yet; but the hairpin was now in her hair. Mephisto had made her promise to keep it there, untouched. Her head slightly clearer, but still shaken, she'd agreed and bowed her head for Mephisto to fasten it in.

As for Mephisto, he wore his father's ear cuff, fixed on his ear ever so carefully with magic since it was still a little too big.

When the children were forced to beg for food, those that had once been nobles sneered down at them. If they had such pretty headpieces then surely they could trade them for food instead of begging like rats.

And so that had been the first night they had spent with empty stomachs.

It wasn't the hunger that woke them every night however. Nor was it the cold wind that buffeted them in the nooks and crannies they found to sleep in, or the uncomfortable floor, or even the screams and cries that carried on way into the night.

No. It was the nightmares and horrors that plagued their minds, cursing their every waking moment and destroying every sleeping one.

Praxina saw her parents' bodies twisted grotesquely far worse than they had actually been. Mephisto - his imagination much stronger than his sister's - saw Praxina driving the hairpin deeper and deeper into her flesh. And not that of her hand, but rather of her chest.

So young, and already death had shaken them to their very core.

Whenever these thoughts and images crossed their minds, each would scramble for the other; a reminder that they weren't alone, that they still had family.

Sometimes holding each other closely was enough to ward the nightmares off.

Sometimes it wasn't.

They distracted themselves with games: who could send a crystal the farthest (Praxina), who could tell the longest story (Mephisto), who could get the most food from strangers (always a tie; they rarely got any). Soon, even games weren't enough.

The children started to lose hope.

They became angry, searching for something - someone - to blame. It wasn't fair, none of this was fair.  They should be home with their parents enjoying a hot meal, their uncle popping in unexpectedly and uninvited.

And somehow, that's exactly what happened.

The twins had gone into the ruins of their town trying to find their Papi, and instead he had found them, almost three weeks later.

However, it was not the happy reunion the twins had been looking forward to.

It had started as a morning like any other. Mephisto waking in a cold sweat, gasping for breath; and Praxina waking up immediately after, hurrying to comfort her brother.

"It's okay, I'm here," she had mumbled, rocking him gently, "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. Promise. We'll always be together, I'm here, I'm okay. You're okay, okay?" Because, of course, she knew about his nightmares - they told each other everything, they always did, and always would.

Or so their naïve minds believed.

It was as Mephisto was recovering, small hands still clutching onto his sister's sleeves, that they first heard the rumbling.

"W-what is that?" Mephisto whispered, snuffling slightly.

Praxina shook her head and quickly got to her feet, pulling Mephisto with her. "Whatever it is, I don't like it. We should go, Mephisto."

"But we're safe here ," he pointed out, "we should stay here."

"Well I'm older and I say we leave. Now."

There was so much conviction in her voice that Mephisto caved immediately. He nodded and allowed himself to be dragged along as Praxina navigated the ruins of the cottage where they'd spent the past three or so nights.

Other survivors were anxiously looking around, the noise not yet loud enough to shake them from their nests of scraps and leftover belongings they'd managed to scavenge. But all the twins had was each other, the clothes on their backs, and the trickle of hope inside them that still hung on by a thread. They continued on, stirring up dust and ashes as they went.

The more they picked up the pace, the louder the noise got - they were like ants trying to escape a vacuum.

Scattered, scurrying, and scared.

By this time other people were starting to move too. Whatever this was, it was big enough to cause quite a stir amongst even the grumpiest and decrepit of homeless citizens.

A man wearing rags of the riches struggled to carry a burnt wooden casket; a woman with grey hair and dull eyes was deaf to the cries of the children she dragged along; a group of even smaller children shuffled along unsupervised and huddled together for comfort; somewhere a baby wept in the arms of its mother who had starved to death in the night giving her baby its last meal.

The twins had seen all this and worse, and so they continued without stopping.

They were never offered any help, so why should they give it. They had each other, that was enough.

Out here in the real world, the world they'd rarely even seen, you looked out for your own. But only your own. There weren't enough resources for people to think of anyone but themselves and perhaps those closest to them, if they cared enough.

Praxina held tightly onto her brother's hand as the rumbling became thunderous and refused to look back, for that would be to give into the fear, to give into whatever it was that was chasing them.

They didn't even notice the first magic attack that flew past them until a man running ahead of them became encased in a dark crystal like substance.

Panicked, Mephisto looked back. But his demeanour soon changed as he saw the culprit.

"PRAXINA! LOOK!" He let go of his sister's hand and stopped dead. "Papi! Uncle Papi, it's me!!" he waved his chubby little arms in the air, not thinking for a second about the risks this could pose. Papi was family, of course he would never-

"LOOK OUT!" Praxina tackled him to the ground, shoving him out of the way just in time.

Where Mephisto had been stood mere seconds ago was a crystal trap just like the one from before, only this one perfectly sized for a small child.

Mephisto stared dumbfounded at it. Surely there had been a mistake? Papi was quite a way away even now, maybe he hadn't recognised his nephew, maybe it had been one of those other men riding alongside his uncle on pyrolems - dark creatures from the Voltan forests, rare (and usually insane) were their riders.

Either way, it couldn't have been Papi, not intentionally.

Praxina had no such doubts.

"He tried to… he…" She shook with anger, standing up protectively in front of Mephisto as she raised her hand, calling her own magic, tainted red with rage. "You dare attack my brother! You, my own flesh and blood?"

There was no warning for the next attack.

This one was different from the other two and wasn't even aimed at them; but the shockwave of it sent Praxina flying backwards and Mephisto sliding even further into the dirt.

Dust flew up all around them, separating the twins from their enemies, but also each other.

Coughing and spluttering, Mephisto crawled to his knees and squinted in an attempt to find his sister. "Praxina? Prax, are you here?" Blindly he made his way out of the dust cloud, hands carefully held out in front of him. "Praxina!!"

But there was no reply.

His voice became desperate, his feet moved faster, his breath shook with fear. She had to be okay. She had promised him and Praxina never broke her promises. Never, ever.

It was only when he fell to his knees once more that he saw her. A crumpled figure slumped against one of the half standing buildings, head hung down, motionless. Her hair draped over her face, the hairpin still firmly in place glinting unfairly peacefully in the morning sun as its crepuscular rays filtered through the dust.

But Mephisto didn't have time to be entranced by the beauty of the scene; he tripped to his feet only to crash down next to her moments later to begin shaking her.

"Wake up, Praxina. Please, c'mon! You have to wake up!"

Tears streamed down his face as he clutched at his sister, pleading with her to wake up. His words became blubbering nonsense, and his head fell to her chest. Blood mingled with tears and sweat, and dust and dirt. Distant screams and explosions ravaged the land outside the dust cloud while Mephisto's screams of anguish billowed about inside, racking his entire body and spilling out however it could.

Praxina heard none of this.

But Mephisto could hear another sound cutting through the din.

A steady sound, a rhythmic comforting sound. A sound that changed Mephisto's tears of sorrow into ones of hope and joy.

Her heartbeat.

When his sobs turned to hiccups and eventually even those faded away, he could hear her breath too. She was alive, if barely.

Mephisto steadied his breathing and hands, lifting his sister into his arms as carefully as he could, struggling a little but determined to get her away from here, to get her to safety. Wherever that was.

He didn't take more than two steps before another shockwave knocked him back to his feet; and this time, he did not get back up.

[grumptydumpty]

MY END OF FEBRUARY-MARCH FAVOURITES LIST:

 - BOOKS:

- A room of one’s own by Virgina Woolf.

The essay traces the literary history of the woman. In a practical sense, the ultimate aim of Virginia Woolf's thesis is to claim, for the female gender, the possibility of being admitted to a culture that until then had proved to be the exclusive masculine prerogative in a society, focusing on the English one. . But the most interesting intent of the essay turns out to be precisely that of deconstructing this patriarchal language in the literary and social sphere. If centuries of subjection have relegated the female figure to silence, excluding it from the halls of culture, then it becomes necessary to give space to a voice that represents the female perspective.

- Six of crows by Leigh Bardugo

This is a book that a friend of mine suggested to me while I was in Dublin. I wasn’t able to finish it until now cause I had too much stuff to do.

If you are a fantasy lover, you should definitely give this book a chance. The story begins when Kaz Brekker receives an offer from one of the richest and most powerful merchants of the city: in exchange for an exorbitant cash reward, Kaz will have to free the scientist Bo Yul-Bayur from the legendary Ice Court.  The Ice Court, however, is an impregnable fortress located in the kingdom of Fjerda, the boy decides to hire a gang of criminals composed of five members: Inej Ghafa, a former acrobat and skilled spy; Jesper Fahey, an infallible shooter with a gambling habit; Nina Zenik, a Grisha of the Second Army of Ravka; Matthias Helvar, a former Drüskelle of Fjerda imprisoned in the Kerch prison; and Wylan van Eck, a wealthy young man who ran away from home and has some talent for making explosives. The book is extremely well written and every chapter is written from the point of view of each character. In this way the reader gets attached to each of them very easily. And just when you get into one character’s story … BOOM , the author changes point of view.

- Men without women by Haruki Murakami.

it is a collection of stories in which  the common thread: the love (often unrequited) that men feel towards women without which they feel lost.

As a lover of Murakami’s works I really loved this one. I have to admit that it’s not the best one , but this is the only Murakami’s book that I’ve read in this period so it must be on my list.

- Lolita by Vladimir Nobokov.

The novel got a lot of criticism because of the rough issues faced by the author, which highlight a defined pedophile and even incestuous relationship.

The reader identifies with the vicissitudes of the main character: a professor of French literature who falls in love with a twelve-year-old girl and after becoming his stepfather remains passionately involved.

Humbert Humbert, tries to capture the sympathy of the reader, but in reality, towards the end of the novel he admits that he feels like a sort of "maniac" that has deprived the little Lolita of his most beautiful age : childhood.

The protagonist justifies his morbid behavior towards the little girl and his obsession with the other ones with the death of his first adolescent love.

What is great about this book is the search for details and the deepening of the psyche and the feelings of the protagonists, the skilful use of the weapon of irony that enshrouded the most rough passages.

- Irish folk and fairy tales by Michael Scott.

Ok , this one .. I’m not sure that everybody is interested in it but it has a special place in my heart because I’ve bought this one in Dublin when I went to a Christmas market. The owner of the book was a real Irish man so this make this book the most irish thing that I own.

The book tells different stories based in Ireland and some of the main irish legends.

-MUSIC:

- PENOMECO songs , especially “Coco bottle” , “LIE” , “GOOD MORNING” and No.5(feat. Crush). I knew this singer a few days ago and since then I’m listen to his songs all day long. I love him . He’s great. GREAT.

( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_xkIImR-wS0 )

- BTS’s HER → It’s not a super new song for me , but in this period I listen to it more often than ever. Everybody that knows me , knows that I LOVE BTS so in this list there must be at least one of their song. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kJyn5toSd0A).

Honestly , I listen to their album “ LOVE YOURSELF ANSWER” everytime I get into my car.

- Dance little liar  by Arctic Monkeys. → Even this one it’s not new but I got to listen to it very very very often. I love them. Some time ago I even tried to get a ticket for their concert but it was a failure. ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hf-B3Y3B0TQ)

- the 1975’s “Sinceruty is  scary” → They are one of my favourite band of all time. I love Matty , I love George , I love Adam and I love Ross. Please love them as I do. They really deserve it. ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1K93ioXL63c)

- Sarah Clove’s cover of “Somebody else” by the 1975 → The’s nothing I’m able to say about it , I can only put the link here and I leave you to her beautiful voice.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJcdEplzdn0 .

YOUTUBE CHANNEL:

-Caricakes.

If you LOVE Korea like I do this is the perfect channel for you. She is a really sweet girl and she doesn’t talk only about Korea.

She did videos about books and other stuff , too.

She’s really great , I love her.

https://www.youtube.com/user/blurrysmiles.

-  If you’re intrested in movies and screenplays and stuff like that these are the channel for you: “Every frame a picture” and “Lessons from the screenplay”

https://www.youtube.com/user/everyframeapainting - https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=lessons+from+the+screenplay

-DKDKTV → This is a channe perfect for the ones who like me likes kpop ( particularly BTS). In some of their videos they try to analyze BTS (or other kpop group) lyrics. My favourite is the one in which they explain Euphoria (it’s very sad , but at the same time so beautiful)

link → https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQB0EABfh3U&t=2s

- Jenny Nicholson.

She basically takes media and makes fun of it. She’s very cute and funny.

One of my fav video is the one about “Fantastic beasts 2” because let’s be real .. Every Harry Potter fan got really upset after finishing to watch the movie.

Here’s the link https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYUJ_ODfc8w&t=1303s

THAT’S ALL FOLKS (FOR NOW).

-S.