#mind the fact i have numerous on hold wips

[carlos-tk]

i have a wip idea that i’ve been thinking about for 3 days straight and i know!!! i’m going to actually have to lock in to ever actually get it written. but gee it’s making me giddy!!

[booburry]

Snippet Sunday

@fangbangerghoul - ty for reminding us all it's Sunday haha

Kinda in limbo rn on deciding the next short WIP or going back to my loooong fic WIP's, but I have this little snippet below for my Marcus Pike WIP 'Heiress'.

It summarizes the premise of the story pretty well. I want to continue this but yesterday I also wrote for three (?) other WIP's I have, so...

Marcus Pike x F!OC; 616 words. Setup: Marcus rushed from a diner, where he finally spoke with Izzy (OC), due to an urgent work call. Marcus has major crush on OC, long lasting for months prior to today, but is too scared to try to get into anything with anyone.

“We found the next target for that Swedish group we’ve been tracking.” Charles stated as Marcus sat on the conference table, raising one leg to rest on top while the other supported his position. He tossed the folder by his side and placed his mug gently in front of him.

This was why he rushed back.

They had been tracking these assholes for a while, but they always managed to slip through their fingers, and with each heist they were becoming brasher, clumsier, and no longer showed signs of being against resorting to violence.

Things were going to end badly if they didn’t get them this time, Marcus was sure.

“Whose the unfortunate target?” Marcus asked, his eyes darting to Charles who clicked to the next slide.

“Some rich Belgian family...Vanthorn. One of the oldest family names in Belgium that still holds power and wealth, from what we have gathered. They have a ridiculously large vault of priceless art, some never seen before by the public, it’s unknown how vast it is or the value. The family’s kept that secret pretty tightly locked.” Charles clicked to the next slide that contained numerous images of historical artifacts and artworks that Marcus immediately recognized. “You will probably best know this family for being the ‘poor bastards’ who got ‘robbed’ of billions of dollars by being forced to return all of these pieces to the proper countries and cultures of origin.”

Marcus stood up, immediately intrigued at the fact that this family lost all of this and still holds status of being rich and influential. That they still held art within their home that Charles would claim to be priceless?

What the fuck were these people hiding?

Same question the thieves must be thinking too...

“There is only one living heir to the Vanthorn fortune.” Charles continued while Marcus turned around, finding himself pacing as his mind got ahead of himself. “Miss Genevieve Vanthorn,” Charles announced with a resounding click, Marcus’s focus still elsewhere. “Who surprisingly, but thankfully, lives here in DC.”

“What?” Marcus blurted out as he turned on his heel to look at Charles, sure he heard wrong that a Belgian Heiress would be living here, in Washington, DC, but his eyes caught the screen and he felt his body freeze and his throat clamp shut when he saw the picture of Miss Genevieve Vanthorn and recognized her as Izzy.

She looked different, but the features were the same—her eyes, nose, lips…the small scar on her chin and indent above her right eyebrow, her pronounced cluster of freckles on her jaw and the bridge of her nose that begged Marcus to kiss every dot whenever he could see them.

It was a sickening feeling on a multitude of levels.

“I know.” One of the other agents commented, raising his eyebrows at how Marcus paused to stare at Genevieve—Izzy! Marcus just glowered at him.

“Not the point.” He sternly scolded the agent as he walked towards Charles. “Why do we need to involve her?” He clarified, glancing once more towards the image, his rage at the goon behind him stepping back to make space for his growing worry for Izzy.

“Their vault is DNA locked. She’s the only one who can open it, so naturally, she will be the number one target.” An overwhelming sense of dread came over Marcus at the realization, and before he could dwell on why that feeling came up, why it was so strong and why he felt so overwhelmed by it, he rushed into action. He ensured to give all his agents, except for the egghead, tasks to handle while purposefully leaving for himself the handling of attaining the target—Izzy.

[bokutosmochi]

SO PUT ON MASCARA (AND YOUR PARTY DRESS) ♡ ITADORI YUJI

aged up!itadori yuji x fem!reader

ingredients? yuji's watching you get ready for a fancy event and realizing how lucky he is.

what's it? fluff

allergen warning/s? reader wears a dress and makeup, not really canon compliant because the characters are in their late twenties-early thirties here, hints to a proposal, itadori's straight edge because this was originally written for someone who is and the line's there and i like it :P

sugar level? 1k

regulars? @hanayanetwork​

parlor's note? this was a wip originally for someone else, someone i don't write for anymore but i thought that i could give it to our beloved golden retriever bf yuji instead of being trashed. i think it fits him, idc.

bon appetit!

nobara had a gentle smile on her face as she gazed at her long time friend who has been staring at you for the past ten minutes now. despite the fact that itadori has been ignoring everything that came out of her mouth which would usually annoy her and she'd end up throwing the nearest thing she could reach for at his face, she can't help but feel happy. happy that his friend has finally met the one destined for him, the love of his life, the fire of his loins, and everything in between.

she's been itadori's friend for a very long time now and she saw the majority of his relationships in the past, the rise and fall of each of them. she could say with all the confidence in the world that this one's different. while most people don't understand, or some didn't even try to understand itadori's loaded schedule, you did. when most people groaned once he told them about the inevitability of a long-distance relationship, that there will be times missions will keep him away from you for extended periods of time, you blinked up at him, the smile you had on remaining on your beaming face and began to suggest ideas on how to make it work, how you can keep your relationship afloat during those times because between the missions and the self-sacrifices, it wasn't easy. kugisaki knew it first hand and she's glad itadori met someone as understanding as you because that was a quality a significant other of a special grade sorcerer needed.

aside from that, she certainly couldn't brush away the look in her friend's eyes whenever they landed on you, like a colorblind man seeing a rainbow for the first time, or how gojo looks when he sees a kikufuku mochi stand. the look in his eyes is vastly different from the way he looked at his former partners, even when they were together, at the peak of their relationship. those light brown-colored orbs could stare into yours for hours on end and still hold nothing but pure, unadulterated love for you, and you for him. you're the one for itadori and anyone who knew the man even in the slightest was well aware of that.

with that, knowing she would not be able to grab her friend's attention any time soon, she stood up with a chuckle and dusted off her red onitsuka tiger dress, heading off to the corner of the room where their other friend and fellow sorcerer, megumi was standing, leaned against the wall and watching their exchange. he too could tell itadori wasn't paying attention to the things coming out of kugisaki's mouth even if he was a good few meters away.

itadori, sitting in a director's chair while looking at you, sat down in front of a vanity, numerous makeup artists hovering around you was staring at you, completely lovestruck. his jaw was literally hanging out a few inches down from the first time he caught a glimpse of you in your purple halter neck dress. he's sure you don't know the effect you have on him though he's told you many times before, fingers interlaced or a warm palm to his face how you made his heart race even when you did something simple such as smile at him and wave oh so casually as if he actually wasn't paralyzed by your beauty.

the dress fit you so perfectly, like it was specially sewn with you in mind. it highlighted your best features, hugging your gentle curves with almost the same amount of care as itadori's hands does when it's roaming all over your form during your nights of lovemaking, but alas, when it comes to holding you, nothing quite comes first before your loving boyfriend not that it mattered, you still looked extravagant in the dress, as simple as it is, a light shade of violet with gold undertones. it complimented your eyes, the same ones itadori could get lost in forever, the ones that make his heart race just with a simple look.

you giggled at something the makeup artist told you and he couldn't help the sweet hum that vibrated from his throat.

god, he's hopeless.

to him, you already looked like  the most beautiful girl in the world without makeup. waking up to your bare face next to his was his favorite sight to see, something that he hopes to wake up to for the rest of his life, as long as you both shall live, but seeing you glow and smile the way you are right now is a close second.

he's completely convinced that he would do anything for you, like learn how to grow flowers from the palm of his hand that he'd be able to give you whenever he pleased, or learn how to control the direction of the breeze whenever you walked down the beach so it did not mess up your hair - not that it mattered to him. you always looked absolutely picture perfect to him, messed up hair or not - or pour the galaxy and all its wonders, the answer to all of the world's greatest questions into his being just to say he's worthy of being with you, of being next to you and having the privilege of calling him your boyfriend, because you're wonderful and ethereal and everything good in this world, no amount of pleasant sunshine on your skin, or golden retriever puppies being petted or good hair days can compare to how it feels to be with you. to him, simply being in your presence is heaven on earth, paradise though he's aware of the curses that loitered around. sometimes people ask him if he ever rethinks his straight edge ways, but he always tells them about how he's so intoxicated by you, your presence assaulting his senses that he does not need alcohol in the slightest, nor does he want it. you in and of yourself was enough to stimulate his brain and have happiness flowing through his veins.

finally, after a few more minutes of admiring you, you were stood up in front of him, one hand out ready to take his, larger, rougher, but certainly warmer.

when he grasped yours and led you out of the room, the velvet box in his pocket felt both heavier and lighter.

i get: reblog

you get: teddy bear

[phoenixyfriend]

For the WIP title ask game, do you have anything to say about either Commander Buir or The King The Solider and The Spy? 👀

wip title game

So "The King The Solider and The Spy" is mostly written here, but needs to be heavily edited and given an intro section.

Here's an excerpt from Commander Buir, though!

When Cody comes to, he needs a moment to figure out where he is.

The sun is too strong. It’s warm, even through the environmental controls. The ground beneath him has give when he moves, but is stiff when he doesn’t.

Sand.

It’s sand.

Why the hell is he lying in sand?

Quick check, no odd pains. Stiff neck, normal. All armor and weaponry accounted for. Comms active and buzzing, but no signal.

Last memory, aboard the Negotiator. Planned destination, a swamp planet of no name, just a numerical designation.

Not sand.

Why is it sand?

Cody turns until he spots what seems to be a town. He looks up again—binary suns—and has a guess as to which planet he’s on.

All roads lead to Tatooine, Skywalker had once joked, bitter and angry and refusing to explain.

I think the saying is that all roads lead to Corellia, Master, Tano had chirped up, still too small for her sabers and new to the war.

I know what I said, Skywalker had insisted, and still hadn’t explained.

(General Kenobi had gestured for Tano to end the line of questioning when she’d made to comment again.)

(Skywalker hadn’t noticed.)

Cody has no idea what’s going on, really, but the Republic has an accord with Jabba, and so Tatooine is as safe for a lone clone as it is for any other sapient. Safer, perhaps.

After all, slavers don’t damage what belongs to another, and the clones belong to the Republic.

He trudges, in as efficient a walk as the sand allows. This is not, in fact, particularly efficient, because sand is terrible and it’s worse in armor, but he’d dealt with uglier terrain. He’s not going to overheat as easily as someone else might, at least, but he doesn’t have more than a flask of water on his person, and he dreads what happens when he runs out.

Tatooine doesn’t take Republic credits, even now.

It takes hours to get to the Mos. He isn’t sure which one it is, but he takes heart that people avoid him. It makes it easier to sidestep pickpockets and gather information on where he is and why he’s there.

He hears a few people refer to him as ‘Mando’ when he passes. It’s not… entirely incorrect. He’s a little on edge that they don’t recognize a clone uniform, but maybe it’s just a smaller city, and—

“Cody!”

A tiny, tiny body slams into his knees, and his hand twitches towards his blaster before his brain catches up.

He looks down.

That is a child.

This child knows his name.

Surprisingly, the child is looking up at him and appears to be ready to cry.

Cody picks up the child the way he’s seen Waxer and General Kenobi with small children, and holds it out at arms’ length for a moment.

“I’m not a tooka,” the child grouses, and Cody sets it on his hip.

His brain catches up.

“I’m not sure who you are, or who you—” belong to, he almost says, with vague thoughts of crèchemasters and parents, except this is Tatooine, and such a turn of phrase would be unwelcome, “—are family to. Mind pointing me in the right direction?”

The child glares at him. “I’m—”

“Anakin!”

The voice isn’t shouting, but it’s whip-quick and snaps across the crowd in the way of a coldly disappointed drill sergeant… or perhaps a worried mother who can’t risk disturbing people.

Cody looks up in the direction, processes what he just heard, and then looks back down at the child that knew his name.

“Oh, kriff,” he says. “General?”

“Commander,” tiny Skywalker greets, nodding gravely. It looks faintly ludicrous, with him being barely bigger than a freshly-decanted tubie. Cody just stares at him.

He looks up again, sees a woman mostly-successfully hiding her terror a few feet away, and thinks that this might need some careful handling.

“That your mom?” Cody asks, his mouth twisting so many times over whether or not to add ‘general’ or ‘sir’ when the man is a child—not that Skywalker’s ever outranked Cody, technically—that he just peters out instead.

“Yeah,” Skywalker says, leaning a little away from Cody and towards the woman. “Mom! This is Cody!”

The woman approaches warily, and Cody steps forward and holds Skywalker out to her before he tries to think too hard about the way she moves and dresses and looks on this planet.

Skywalker hated Tatooine, always, even though it was his home. Now, Cody finally has confirmation on which theory was right. He’s not happy to know it. He never wanted to.

Part of him wonders what Skywalker would have done if some of the troopers had wanted to desert, rather than defecting like Slick. Maybe… maybe.

Just. Maybe.

“Thank you,” the woman murmurs as she takes her son, and Cody finds himself at a loss about where to go from here.

Skywalker does not. “Mom, Cody’s gonna help.”

That fear again, quickly stifled. “Ani, honey, we don’t know him—”

“I do!”

Cody has no idea how to enter this conversation.

“He’s Mando,” Skywalker’s mother says, clearly wanting to get away from Cody as quickly as possible. “They’re not… they don’t deal with slaves, Ani. We can’t pay.”

“I have a plan,” Anakin insists.

“We have to get back to Gardulla’s,” the woman mutters. “I’m sorry, Mando, but I’ve already been at market for too long. My mistress will be looking for me.”

“Mom, we have time—”

“Ani, stop.”

Skywalker’s starting to get frustrated, tears welling up in his eyes, and his mother isn’t faring well either.

Cody thinks, with new clarity, about the worst-off refugees, and how Skywalker had always been the best with them, in some ways. The rumors had clashed, and many suspected that it was just civilians being more comfortable with Jedi than with clones, but more than one person had noticed that it was always the former slaves that Skywalker handled. It was always him that they trusted.

Cody steps forward and removes his helmet, because he doesn’t want to broadcast it, and the vocoder wouldn’t keep it to just their little trio, and he quietly says, “I was assigned the designation CC-2224. I did not choose a name for myself until prepubescence.”

There is a wealth of information in these two sentences, at least to the Skywalkers. Anakin already knows. His mother’s eyes widen, as she hears the words, and holds Anakin closer to her chest. She searches his face, his scar, the cut of his hair and the quality of his armor, and she sees… something. Something that calls her, like for like, slave to slave.

(The clones do not consider themselves slaves, for the most part.)

(They cannot afford to.)

(They did not even think to, but then there was Slick, and then there were entitled Senators, and then there were Skywalker’s bitter, bitter, bitter jokes.)

“I know him, Mom,” Anakin insists, but hushed this time, too low for the audience of sidelong glances and peering boredom.

“Alright,” the woman says, and snatches a few looks around. “I wasn’t lying about Gardulla waiting on me, but I should be free tonight. Do you know where the slave quarters are?”

“I got here an hour ago,” Cody admits. “So… no.”

“I c’n stay with him n’show him how ta get home,” Anakin offers.

“No,” his mother immediately says. It is not sharp, or harsh, but there is no flexibility in her tone. “You may think you know him, Ani, but I do not.”

Anakin doesn’t roll his eyes. Cody thinks he might want to, but also that this woman holds more of Anakin’s unquestioning respect than General Kenobi does. It’s a fascinating thing to witness. Cody doesn’t really know anyone who has a mom.

“Show me your map,” the little general commands.

“I don’t have a map on hand,” Cody immediately tells him.

Skywalker has the audacity to roll his eyes this time. Little shit.

“You got the scanning, though,” Skywalker reprimands. It is deeply irritating. “Sonar ‘n’ stuff.”

Not quite the verbiage he used as an adult, but technically accurate. Cody does have something like that, which will give him a vague topography of the immediate area. It won’t show details very well, but it should block out buildings and streets for a few hundred feet out.

Skywalker almost falls out of his mother’s arms when he leans over to the hologram, but she catches him before he does. The toddler studies the sensor map for a few moments, then zooms out and points to a section that the map doesn’t actually reach. “Put a pin here. Tha’s where Gardulla’s slave quarters are. You c’n swing by when the suns set, ‘n’ ask for my mom.”

Cody darts a glance to the woman, who’s gone from scared of him to overwhelmed and a little frustrated. “Ma’am? That alright with you?”

That takes her aback.

“Nobody calls me that,” she says, after a moment of staring at him in total confusion.

“You’re a civilian,” he explains, for all that he isn’t sure that actually explains anything at all. “And I don’t know your name.”

“Shmi Skywalker.”

“Lady Skywalker, then.” He tilts his head. “Or Lady Shmi?”

“No, just—just Shmi.” She keeps staring at him.

The little general rolls his eyes. “Cody, do you got any money?”

Cody does not comment on how childish Anakin’s pronunciation and phrasing are. He has a feeling it might get him bitten. “Not much. Republic credits, mostly, only enough for a night in a hostel or a meal. Anything more would have been paid on a GAR card, and those won’t work here.”

“Anythin’ you c’n trade?” Anakin prompts. “Or pawn? Needs ta be cash.”

“Anakin,” Shmi scolds, voice so low it’s almost a hiss.

“Couple of ration bars, some tibanna canisters,” Cody says. He has a feeling he knows where this is going. Maybe. “I’m not pawning my armor or weapons.”

Skywalker makes a face, but doesn’t press the issue. “Slaves’re ex-pen-sive. You need money. I c’n ‘elp withat.”

“Mind tricks?” Cody guesses.

“Nuh-uh,” Skywalker immediately denies. “We’re in Mos Espa. E’rythin’ here is gambling.”

Ah. Yes, that would do it.

“You want to get out with a Knight’s Wager,” Cody summarizes.

Anakin smiles. He has all his visible teeth, which Cody is oddly surprised by. He isn’t sure how children usually develop. This is probably normal.

“A Knight’s Wager?” Shmi asks.

“We’ll figure out the details later,” Cody says. “In private. Not here. Right now, I just need your opinion on what a fair exchange would be when I do trades.”

“Tibanna’s the most,” Anakin immediately says. “You should trade credits at the docks with someone who’s leavin’ Tatooine, so you c’n avoid the exchange tax.”

Oh lovely. Tax evasion.

Well, at least it’s Jabba’s taxes, not the Republic’s. They’re going to be committing many crimes, soon. Losing out on a few measly credits through an unmonitored currency exchange is a comparatively minor deal.

Shmi sighs and offers her opinion on what the absolute minimum Cody should aim for when bartering should be, for everything he’s planning to pawn, and what highball request he should start out with before he bends.

“You’re Mando,” she notes. “People will respect that.”

He’s not, but that’s a conversation for later.

He nods to her, slips his helmet back on, and goes to barter.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Meister of the Stars

Genshin Impact College!AU but it’s in canon universe with canon elements

Otherwise: Hogwarts in Teyvat, Sumeru Academia

Welcome to Exiled’s first public domain post! What does that mean? Well that just means that this work is entirely repriseable and can be used by other authors for their own plots, fics, stories, or even AU characters. So long as you credit me appropriately by either tagging this post or just tagging my url hehe.

Why is this Public Domain? It’s too big and extensive of a plot for me to write alone and I’m sure other authors can do this plot justice than I do. Besides, with my schedule and writing manner, I won’t be delving into this plot anytime soon. Or at all.

Story Prologue Summary:

Sumeru Academia, the oasis of knowledge in the vast continent of Teyvat, is a constitution inhabiting scholars around the world. Within its walls harbors great minds and masters of elemental prowess and higher intelligence. Only select people can enter or even pass the trials of the scholars, some are gifted by invitation by the Headmaster and leader of the nation, the Dendro Archon.

When you had been gifted your Dendro Vision one day when you encountered and rejuvenated one of the many ley lines connecting the world together, it was guaranteed the next day that you were to receive a letter by a majestic hawk: within its claws it clutched a cured scroll, locked by a tie and the logo of Dendro, and the insignia of the famed Academia.

The Archon, shut and reserved as he may be, he knows and keeps close the gifted ones who received a sprinkle of his power.

Sumeru Academia does not value itself with how long you had been under scholarly guidance, students are not recognized by how many years they have been in the constitution, no. Instead the students are split into three different systems of prestige: elemental, mastery, and admission.

Elemental System separates students into different, well, elements corresponding to their Visions: Dendro, Pyro, Cryo, Hydro, Electro, Geo and Anemo. There are no titles do scholars who enter the Academia, but scholarly jargons had opted for either ‘awakening’ or ‘waiting shell’, because more often than not, many scholars had been blessed while inside the walls of the Academia, as well as the obvious fact that being blessed by a Vision comes at a natural time and age in your life.

Mastery System comes in four main hierarchies and two sub-categories, all of which are determined by the Trials of the Scholars upon being allowed admission into the Academia. The four main hierarchies are classified by prestige stars or which the amount you are allowed pinned on your Academian sash:

Six stars are those who come near the grace of Celestia’s understanding of the universe, very rarely are scholars placed into this category, and many scholars even dispute the existence of such a class. However, they do exist as they are honored by the God of Wisdom himself deeming them to carry the blessings of the wisdoms from the stars. A Six star only comes one in a generation, some say. Many speculations linked to this class are supernatural and absurd rumors.

Five stars are those who master the flow of their visions powered by their undeniable talents in their major scholarly interest, renowned as true geniuses of their professions, a lot of them turn into prodigies after leaving the Academia and even serving under ruling kingdoms with high roles.

Four stars are the base level a Vision-holder can reach and is the starting system for said Vision-holders; even tho this is the default level of Vision holders, wielders of Visions in Academia are not to be trifled with, as they are expected to exceed their mastery over Vision-holders residing outside the Academia.

Three stars are non-Vision scholars that have an adeptness in both academics and weapon mastery, they are proficient in combat prowess enough to par those who have basic grasp of their Visions outside of the Academia. Most three star scholars are also known to have a higher chance of receiving their Visions.

There has been no record of Two Stars or One Star scholars in the records of the Academia.

Sub-category of the Mastery System are reliant on physical properties of a scholar: Adepts are those with mixed blood with mystical beings of the continent, or simply put, scholars that are not just of mortal origins. Mortals are simply normal mortals. These sub-category, meaningless as it may seem, are actually used to observe patterns for research purposes regarding power and skill differences.

Admission System is the plainest and easiest judge for all scholars and is not that much given attention to unlike the other systems, except for the last one. Entrance Admission simply means you have taken the appropriate customary tests of the mind, body and element (if you are a Vision-wielder) and passed the marks to enter the Academia. Letter of Recommendation means that you were either transferred from another academy besides Sumeru or some prestigious bloodline convinced the headmasters of Sumeru to allow such easy admission. Meisters are those who wield Dendro Visions with full potential, invited by the Dendro Archon himself to join the ranks of the Academia.

During the Rite of Prominence in the main hall of the Academia, the Dendro Archon descends from his temple to hold this important annual event for new scholars, together with the Headmasters. Rite of Prominence is where new scholars are given their first prestige systems, and those who are convinced to have ascended gets their new titles.

Your knees almost buckled when your name echoed through the wide building, calling you upon the presence of the Headmasters to finally receive your classification. Your first friend and fellow newcomer Chongyun pats you in the back, urging you to approach the aisle that leads to the stage up front. His smile was enough to push your legs to a subtle tremble as you made your way through the carpeted path, standing before the Headmasters.

There was a beat of silence and unmoving, and then the Headmaster starts to raise his hand- before the Dendro Archon himself suddenly stands up from his large throne of a seat at the very back. The movement caused a series of gasps to erupt from the scholars and staff behind you, and you must have hallucinated one from the cloaked Headmasters, as the God of Wisdom made his way to stand in front of you.

His presence was both ethereal and overwhelming as his imposing figure looms over you. You politely raised your head to rest your view by the bridge of his nose, not wanting to offend by making direct contact. “Child,” he extends his large hand and you looked at it, “Your hand.” Your eyes fleet back to his with wary but his gaze softened in assurance. With a sharp inhale, you finally placed your hand into his-

And a burst of gold streams flew out from your connected hands, with enough force to send a pulse of a wave through the building. Hanging cloths were whisked by the elemental burst, flames of candles extinguished, as suddenly all the Visions in the building began glowing. You blinked the surge of nausea away, and it was only the Dendro Archon that noticed the golden glow that pulsed from your iris, and looked around in confusion.

“(Y/N) (L/N),” you felt the hand under your palm move away as six glowing rocks manifested and twirled around you. Scholars knowledgeable enough gasped once again at the sight. And you warily watched the glowing rocks forge themselves into star-shaped badges, slowing down as they descend in front of you and on to your palm. “Welcome to this new age, Six Stars Meister of the Stars.” And the hall blows into a series of thunderous claps.

(This area is a WIP)

In the back of the Ancient libraries of Sumeru Academia resides the domain of the record holder, and there upon are bookshelves of numerous records about every scholar that has been admitted into the Academia. Each book corresponds to a student and its first pages carry their basic information, however the pages after that are hexed with powerful lexical charms to make it unreadable to anyone that dare looks at the other pages:

Albedo: Geo Vision. A Five Star, Adept scholar who has been in the Academia for two years through a letter of recommendation. Albedo is a master of the sword too, but his expertise lies in his expert handling of the concept of Alchemy. Hailing from an unknown continent, Albedo aims to spread his knowledge and master it enough to become a Six Star, a prestige title his master once held before mysteriously disappearing. Upon your appearance, the master alchemist had been not so subtly observing and following you around whenever you were in the vicinity. You're not sure if you saw this right, but when you once had seen his passing look, you swore you saw a slight squint when he looks down at your sash.

Amber: Pyro Vision. A Four Star, Mortal hailing from Mondstadt. Her grandfather was an alumni of the Academia who mastered the arts of gliding, and was thus allowed the opportunity to accept his letter of recommendation for Amber when she reached the age of 15. She continued her grandfather's work in the Academia and carried the Outrider title, focusing on aerodynamics and her bow mastery. Seeing as she was around your age range but having been admitted years prior, Amber took it upon herself to tour you around the campus and also introduce you to her friends from Mond. During the weekends, you find yourself gliding over the university's towering buildings with her.

Baizhu

Beidou

Bennett

Chongyun: Cryo Vision. A Four Star, Mortal from Liyue with ties to the spiritual realm. His expertise in exorcism had earned him the title of Master of Spirits despite being a newcomer, and many of services are seeked out even in the new continent. With his mischievous Liyuean friends, he's seen roaming around the halls of the Academia during ungodly hours. Chongyun was your first friend in the Academia after you both rendezvous at the entrance as newcomers and finding solace with the company of each other. When you earned your Six Stars title, Chongyun had become protective of you yet still treated you as a normal friend, not wanting you to think he was only there for prestige. During random nights, you'd find yourself in the darkest and secluded areas of the Academia as he pulls you around with Xingqiu, hoping to find roaming spirits of scholars from years ago.

Collei

Cyno: Pyro Vision. A Five Star, Mortal that had been in the Sumeru Academia for years. He is one of the senior scholars and running for Headmaster after his graduation. In the Pyro Visions, he is one of the renowned masters of the element, and can usually be found tending the books of the ancient libraries of the Academia. As of Sumerian descent and strong ties with the Academia, under the buddy system Cyno became your senior buddy on your first year to make sure you do not incur a failing grade nor misunderstood the practices and customs of the Academia. Because of this, you meet with him daily for check-ups and tutoring.

Diluc

Fischl

Ganyu

Jean

Kaeya

Keqing

Lisa

Mona

Razor

Sucrose: Anemo Vision. A Four Star, Adept of an unknown cat species from Mondstadt. Master of Bio-Alchemy as renowned of her multiple contributions to the field, Sucrose made her way to Sumeru Academia at the news that it harbors the one and only Master of Alchemy in it. She passed the entrance exam with expected ease and has then exhausted the laboratories and resources of the Academia for her researches. You've ran into her once when you were lost in the halls of the large Academia, stumbling on her unsupervised experiments in one of the laboratories. Her cat ears caught your attention and had since then become engrossed in researching about it, with her next to you, you were both brought together into a friendship focused on nature and a thirst for discovery.

Tartaglia: Hydro Vision. A Five Star, Mortal that carried with him a different aura opposite of the stars. Childe entered the Academia after near perfecting all his scores in all the tests, before the Headmasters realized that he carried a letter of recommendation from the Tsaritsa, which was then useless by the time he revealed it. One of the few Masters of Hydro, Childe was more fond and known in the arts of combat, Warmonger was a title he was more confident in as he shows prowess in all weaponry he touches. When Childe heard about the existence of a Six Star, his first instinct was to test out the difference between him and the fabled child. But his mastery in combat alone was enough to show he was still ever more superior. Irked yet still curious of a hidden potential, Childe ended up tortur- tutoring you in mastering weapon proficiency. He manages to persuade you in his test spars (still looking for that six star glory) by a promise of an expensive dinner everytime. Damn rich people.

Venti: Anemo Vision. A Five Star, Adept that was personally invited by the Dendro Archon after his retirement from his position as archon of Mondstadt. Despite the idea being absolutely preposterous and against his principles, clearly he had nothing better to do, he was ultimately persuaded after hearing his fellow retired archon resided in the Academia as well. The Master of Winds and Weaver of Tales had become your partner in your Anemo classes, and what better way to teach you about Anemo than flinging you into the sky to 'feel the fresh air' up there? He'd always make sure that you were there everytime he performed for the Academia, and lingers around you whenever you were free just to loiter around before the next class.

Xiangling:

Xiao: Anemo Vision. Five Star, Adept that passed the examination in hopes to follow his master in search for the truth. Master of the Polearm is the title he boasts, and a lot of pupils under him are always devastated upon entering combat with him. Although he's only been there for a year, he has secretly been enjoying the new atmosphere. Xiao had noticed you during the Rite of Prominence when he felt the familiar touch of the Gods, and he had found that whenever you are near, there is a cleansing aura that silences the demonic whispers in his head. Ever since then he'd be found usually in your vicinity yet unapproaching, subtle. When Zhongli officially entrusted him of your safety during your stay in the Academia, he doesn't know whether to scuff or sigh in relief as he was finally introduced.

Xingqiu

Zhongli: Geo Vision. A Five Star Adept that was also invited by the God of Wisdom but was dependently persuaded by Venti. He carries with him 6000 years of knowledge and had since then assisted in collating those sacred years to be immortalized in the Academia's libraries. As the Wielder of Earth he prides himself with his elemental mastery despite the removal of his true power, and yet he is more known of his title as Historian of the Wars. Zhongli was no ordinary student, he carries himself like that of a Headmaster and yet he does not situate himself with matters of either scholar of staff interests. You encountered him during a nightly walk to calm yourself over the burden of your academics and Meister title, and his presence had been the best comfort. Ever since then you'd always find him when you need him, and he always helps you with any troubles, if you count a 500 words dialogue as such.

Storyline - Arcs

Arc Socrates : the foundation

i. Rite of Prominence - earning ones title

ii. Welcome to Sumeru Academia - the dormitories

iii. The Seven Majors - first classes for the seven corresponding elements

iv. Buddy System - newcomers are always paired with senior scholars on their first year in the Academia

v. Labyrinth - the libraries of Sumeru Academia is large and secretive, hence the perfect domain for treasure hunt exercises

vi. Combat Mastery - dive into the trials of weapons, another major

vii. Science Side of Sumeru (SSS) - numerous laboratories harbor different individuals and strands, from alchemy to biology to— wine-making?

ending. The Walk of Scholars - every midyear, scholars are entitled to a week long fieldtrip/vacation in the nation of Sumeru, beyond the walls of the Academia

Plato : the calling of the stars

i. The Midyear Examinations - annual exam to retest your standing in the Academia

ii. Divine Intervention - archonistic convention of a looming celestial presence

iii. The Leyline Disorder - a leyline in the Academia became corrupted, forcing a halt in the academics as malignous forces plague the Academia

iv. The First Miracle - as the Six Stars scholar with a touch blessed by the stars, you were the only one to succeed in repairing the problem

ending. Advancement of Medicine - after the First Miracle, the Six Star scholar was plagued with eternal sleep. With this new case, the Academia scrambles for medical intervention

*shrugs*

This is not a series I'll be working on, but may be referenced in oneshots in the future.

[the-stray-storyteller]

Rebel

Since I did not write anything new recently here are some scenes from that WIP I was planning to publish.

(Warning : The last one has mentions of drugs and abuse)

My Name:

Then came the roll call. I never understood why they did that. They had numerous assassins loyal to them and a ninety feet high fence generating enough electricity to kill ten elephants and the force field kept us from escaping.

“May-05!” A gruff voice announced. I raised my hand without a word, making them aware of my presence.

May-05? It’s not my roll number or my rank, it’s my name. May-05. The first thing they do in the Facility is take away your identity, delete any record that has your name on it from birth certificates to your playschool attendance. Then they give you another name or three alphabets, a dash, and two numbers that correspond with your birthday.

Remembering Can Hurt:

“Don’t do this,” I muttered under my breath to myself. 

Fun fact. The reason assassins over here went mental was because they remembered the names and faces of the people they killed. They went mental because they decided to be alone with their thoughts for a minute. They went mental because they tried to treat the weapon made by the Facility as a human. They had tried to forgive themselves for the lives they had taken like a human would forgive themselves if they made a mistake.

“Oh no! I killed someone. But in due time I will forgive myself” 

It doesn’t work like that. It haunts you.

Training the Kid:

“Hold the gun with both hands,” it took all my willpower not to strangle Feb-01. He had been convinced that he could shoot a gun with one hand.

“You do it with one.”

“I have been training and using one since I can remember,” I grabbed his left hand and placed it on the gun. His stance was horrible. I had to fix it for the hundredth time, instructing him to move his arms higher, push his shoulders back and to keep his legs apart.

“Now shoot and remember the target is the giant red dot, right there,” I waved my hand over the target, “and not the grass or the building or the air around us,” my voice was sickly sweet to my own ears, making my mind cringe. I saw the flash before hearing the bang. I could tell the boy missed before the bullet reached its target. 

I moved forward and crouched down in front of the target. Smiled as sweetly and sarcastically as possible.

“This my friend is neither red nor a dot,” I pointed at the blue ring a couple inches away from the red dot, “would you like me to define what red is or maybe you need me to define dot.” “It’s closer than the rest,” he seemed proud of his own work.

“Closer doesn’t mean dead and the Facility wants dead,”

Feb-01 tried to frown but ended up pouting. He turned his head away from me, dropping the gun.

Lesbian Assassins Trying To Flirt:

Mar-15 spoke when it was only the five of us left.

“Overrides were sabotaged so were the shipment of bombs.” I felt calculating blue eyes on me.

“She didn’t know about the overrides until tonight,” Dec-20 took my side, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“What now?” the leader asked, his icy glare still on me.

“The power core, we could take out the core,” Jan-30 suggested. We all looked at our fellow teenager bewildered, his idea was possible but also deranged. I could see everyone’s minds running, calculating the possibilities and outcomes of various situations. Nov-12 was the first one to break.

“We don’t have time for this now, we have got to go,” Nov-12 stressed. He jerked his head towards the exit and started to walk away. Mar-15 and Jan-30 followed. Dec-20 looked at me and smiled.

“I thought and still think your short hair looks cute, almost cut off mine because of that.” My jaw tightened my head not knowing how to respond to a compliment. Of course, there are chances that it wasn’t a compliment.

“It's better longer.” I wasn’t sure if she heard my suggestion since she had already disappeared into the shadows.

Hemophobia (the needle one not the blood):

“I need to speak with May-05,” I turned my head to see Nov-12 standing at the entrance of the gym. I headed towards him warily after a nod of assent from the acrobat.

“They are doing another inoculation for the first batch, room 12-A” 

“What?” I strained to keep my voice neutral but it came out as a gasp. During the first few years in the Facility, they had injected us with serums, drugs, hallucinogens, and a lot of other things. Experiments to see how the HS2 works and how it affects our reaction and also enhancements. I never liked those tests, I hated needles. The thought of something passing through my skin and entering my body and then pushing a liquid into my bloodstream, sent shivers down my spine, bile up my throat and then my stomach would decide to jump into a whirlpool in the middle of a hurricane.

[borkthemork]

WIP Preview for a Fic Titled: “On the Corner Between E. Harry and Quay”.

----

Marcy closed her eyes for a second. The heaviness wore down her face, her nose, the ache between her eyebrows. 

She had no money. No phone. Nothing that could give them an advantage except for their legs, the fact Yunan robbed a mugger blind of ten dollars, and Olivia's ability to improvise some new swatches of clothing — being that she stole them from a clothesline and were bulky enough for all three to look casual. A bit shifty, but forgivable.

They looked semi-decent as a family. Enough of a family for people to pass them, give them some shifty eyes, but go on their way.

But the biggest challenge hadn't been braced yet. The newts didn't say it much, but Marcy hated thinking on the idea that they should starve too. Or get antsy from the topic of food alone — which they didn’t have...at all.

Marcy needed to make a decision. Either she made them hold out for hours on end until they could get to Anne's house, or they conserved more energy. With Los Angeles, the roads could become long and tedious. They'd might as well do what they could to keep their stamina.

So on the corner of W. Anaheim and Palos Verdes, they made a plan.

They stood behind a 7-Eleven, the sign flickering as a car beeped its way by. Lady Olivia had kept her hands around Marcy's for most of their excursion, but now that they had time to rest — with no one around except for the sleeping man in the alleyway corner — they should be able to get what they need. She just needed to look casual, not alarm anyone to her armor or the fact that people could definitely see how her pipe wasn't a crutch at all.

Hmmm. Maybe she could describe it as cosplay. Would that work?

Probably.

Marcy and Yunan made their move. They went down the street. Cars buzzed past them under a green intersection light, some flying by with US flags, others a myriad of bumper stickers from Ohio to Oklahoma. And when she stopped at their destination, hands on her hips, Yunan's question stood out to her the most.

"So these...7-Elevens, shall curb the hunger?" Yunan asked her. "They look rather sparse for a depository."

"I can guarantee there's a lot more than that," she said, motioning a hand to the blue-lit windows. "They've got snacks, drinks, and stuff under one dollar or less. With ten bucks, we should be able to buy enough to cover the next few blocks." She hesitated. "Until I pass out, but that's not gonna happen."

At least, she hoped.

"Just keep your mask on and don't make too much eye contact. Find whatever you need, think of sustenance. Long-term."

And the general made a little scoff, enough for Marcy to grow relieved when the sliding doors parted and welcomed them — the welcome noise a familiar tune, a familiar memory.

A memory where Anne and Sasha heard the same noise, laughed at how noisy it was, and grabbed all the hotdogs and Krispy rolls they could find. Until they gained a bag fit for kings. For massive sleepovers that went up till dawn.

Almost as if nothing had changed. 

Almost.

When Yunan parted from her, Marcy turned her attention toward the high shelves.

Her hands went through numerous arrays of candy bars. She ogled the calories on snackers, on moon bars and cracker packs, and for a moment her worries over being observed by the cash register alleviated somewhat.

Especially since the general was too intrigued toward a corner section of the store, where she mumbled names under her breath.

Hot dogs dinged from the microwaves. Slush-ees stirred in their mesmerizing and high-concentrated syrup mixes. The newspaper stands sit in their bins. One was labelled the Wilmington Gazette, and announced on the paper’s corner tonight's date:

December 10, 2020. Seven months.

Seven months of her lying, being useless, being inconsiderate and selfish.

Gosh. She really did mess this up for everyone.

Marcy sighed. She resisted wrinkling the newspapers. Instead she placed the bundle gently back before the worker could note her behavior from behind her counter. Better than having the retail worker pay them for damage. She could barely compensate.

But the confirmation came just like she expected.

Marcy Wu wasn't in Inglewood, Westmont, or anywhere near Burbank. She had dropped near Long Beach, somewhere farther South where the coast touched the docks, and now she needed to go up toward the skyscrapers if she wanted to keep Yunan and Olivia safe.

Not a bad task but…

Marcy had to be honest, she was at her limit at this point.

She’d been walking for hours with numb legs, a growing headache, and no driver’s license in sight. There were too many factors to consider. Too many consequences to count.

There came the idea of caught by police. Being caught by government scientists, confronted by her parents, over old mistakes that she oh so didn’t want to rip back open again. There came the conquering of numerous realms. There came the burning question of what secured deeply inside her mind and body. A lot that happened all at once.

But out of everything Marcy did, she couldn’t help but feel stubborn. She’d worked in stressful situations before. She fought a cult, took out an entire pirate mutiny, and practically rehauled systems so ancient and traditional that she herself was surprised when she actually fixed it all up ship-shape.

Right now, Yunan and Olivia counted on her to be safe. They had nowhere else to go, no human guide to show them what was safe and what wasn’t.

And that meant Marcy needed to improvise. Improvise until Anne took them in, allowed the newts to stay in her home, and maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to handle the mass that hid inside of her.

For better or worse, she needed to think of the bigger picture. A bigger picture where the balance between two realms continued to wobble on an uncertain axis.

And Marcy had to do something to fix it.

[nightingaletrash]

why work on wips when I can feed my new hyperfixation instead? :)

AO3

---

It was like someone was raking a nail against the inside of her skull, and the more she tried to ignore it, the more insistent it became. A hollow shriek that verberated against her brain, and a throbbing pain blossomed behind her eyes.

Lorna turned onto her side for what had to be the hundredth time now and screwed her eyes shut, willing herself to fall asleep. Just for a moment. But no such luck was had, and the irritating raking at the inside of her skull continued.

Finally sick of lying in bed with no resolution to the god-awful noise, she sat up and pushed away the bedsheets. She dragged her feet over the side of the bed and held her hands to her face, fingers pressing into the inner-corners of her eyes as a sigh dragged itself from her lungs. The pressure didn’t relieve the deep-seated exhaustion behind her eyes, but it helped… somehow. Like causing a brief reset of her senses.

Behind her, her sleeping companion whined and pawed at her hip as he stretched out to settle at her side. His wet nose pressed under the hem of her night shirt and he snorted inquisitively.

“I’m fine, Lexel,” Lorna giggled, scratching behind his ears; his tail thumped happily against the mattress in response, but he kept his big brown eyes fixed on his mistress nonetheless. 

She heaved another sigh - something that was becoming all too common place as of late with the threat of the Crawler looming over her - and felt around for her slippers. It didn’t take long, as they’d been placed at her bedside by the servants who were seemingly determined to ensure that everything was perfect for their new Queen, though she doubted that it was loyalty or their work ethic that drove them.

The apprehension that lingered in the castle was beginning to thin as life resumed its course, but Logan’s tyranny had left a mark here. The day that Logan had Elliot executed was the day that everyone in the castle realised that they were expendable; if the King was willing to have a noble killed, no one was safe, maybe not even the Princess. Her running away with Walter and Jasper in tow had not helped things, and that was before she had returned with an army at her back.

It would be a long time before the wounds truly healed and the staff trusted their Queen, if they ever did. She’d been Queen for little over a month. There was still plenty of time for her to become her brother and no doubt there were bets being made over how long it would take.

But that wasn’t something she could afford to be worrying about right now, she reminded herself as she slipped a gown over her pyjamas and beckoned Lexel to follow as she left her chambers.

The cool night air nipped at her skin, and there was a promise of winter in its teeth. Even so it was preferable to the stuffy confines of her chambers. 

She would have thought that she’d enjoy being able to sleep in her own bed again, surrounded by all the comforts of home, but now it didn’t feel like it fit anymore. She’d gotten used to sleeping above barrooms full of drunken singing and the rustle of a tent over her head. The castle was too quiet. Too static. Her time with the rebellion had seen her outgrow her childhood home, and now she was chained to it.

Her hands ran over the cold stone of the balustrade and she gazed out over the garden below. Logan’s statue was still in place on the plinth in the centre of the courtyard, despite numerous questions over when she planned to have it removed. The answer… well, she wasn’t sure of it just yet. It kept getting pushed further into the back of her mind where it would gather dust until there was nothing else to preoccupy her. By not deciding, she could still decide how she felt about her brother. 

What Logan had done, she still struggled to forgive. As angry as it had made her, as righteous as the rebellion had been in overthrowing him, in light of what they knew now, it was easier to empathise with her brother and the enormity of the task he had faced.

Lorna and Walter’s encounter with the Crawler had been brief, but it had made an impression all the same. The suffocating darkness, the rasping voice crying out in mockery of her fears, Walter - fierce, unyielding Walter who never flinched away from his duty - screaming as his nightmares came to life; whenever sleep did find her, it always brought her back to Shadelight. To the Darkness. And she imagined it was no different for her brother or her mentor.

No one who brushed with such horror emerged the same person. She hadn’t, Logan hadn’t, and Walter hadn’t either, no matter how much they all tried to pretend otherwise.

Her fingers curled and her nails dug into her palms. Why hadn’t Theresa warned her as she had warned Logan? Why did she and Walter have to stumble blindly into that creature’s lair to learn the truth? Why did she have to stagger across the sands alone, tormented by the wailing cries of the friend she had abandoned and the dead whispers of the Darkness?

Before her bitterness towards the Blind Seer had a chance to take hold of her mood, however, she was drawn back to reality by Lexel, who was barking from the top of the stairs.

“Is something the matter boy?” she asked, moving away from the balustrade to follow.

He just barked again and bounded down the steps with his fluffy white tail held high. Once he was sure that Lorna was following, he took off at a swift trot into the gardens themselves, barely pausing to make sure that she was keeping up.

Lorna shivered with cold but followed regardless. Anything to distract her from own dark thoughts.

The gardens were usually a bustling hub of activity, where visiting nobles milled about and exchanged the latest gossip, or the gardeners pruned the rose bushes, tended the flower beds, and generally kept the space immaculate. Guards would stand at attention, eyes sharp for trouble, but always amenable to a quick greeting from their Princess. It was a place of community within the castle, and it was odd to see it so empty. 

That being said, the quiet wasn’t unwelcome. The trickle of fountain water, the whistle of the wind and the crunch of gravel under her feet kept it from a stifling silence that allowed the raking nails in her head to grow overwhelming, but it wasn’t so loud that it hurt.

Lexel disappeared into the hedgerows, the tip of his tail whipping around the corner just as Lorna caught up. He led her towards the overlook, where the garden fell away to a lower rung and Bowerstone Industrial was visible in the distance.

A year ago it was where she had met Elliot on that fateful day. The day that had changed everything. He’d been waiting for her with news of the rumours regarding the fate of a factory worker and asked her to speak with her brother about it. He’d really thought that Lorna could get through to Logan… And she had believed the same. 

Funny how innocent they had been back then. Funny how quickly it had all changed.

But tonight it wasn’t Elliot standing at the balustrade, staring out over the city below. It was Logan.

It was funny really. He didn’t look nearly so intimidating as he had when he was King. Maybe it was the way he was slumped against the balustrade, staring blankly out at the city. Or maybe it was the fact his hair was tousled and he was wearing his pyjamas instead of his usual regalia. 

All things considered, it was probably both. He cut a much less striking figure now than he’d done in years. But then maybe that was just how he looked since coming back from Aurora, and it was only now out here, in the dark of the deserted garden, was she getting to see it.

Lexel bounded over to Logan’s side and barked in greeting. Logan startled and, in a moment of raw instinct, leapt away from the dog and reached for the sword he usually carried at his hip but was presently absent. Then he blinked as he processed what he was looking at.

“Ah, Lexel. Shouldn’t you be with Lorna?”

Lexel just barked again and bumped his head against Logan’s knee insistently until he acquiesced and reached down to pat the collie, his long fingers digging into the ruff of fur around Lexel’s neck.

Lexel sat, then edged closer to Logan, his tail thumping the ground in joy as he revelled in the attention. It had been a long time since the former King had bothered to give him any attention beyond a brief brushing off or to send him back to his mistress, and he was taking full advantage of the rare display of affection.

Lorna lingered at the periphery, unwilling to intrude right away. Only when Logan glance up at her did she move forward.

“You should be asleep,” he said, straightening up even as Lexel whined in protest. “A queen needs her rest.”

“So do her advisors,” she shot back.

He jerked his head and turned away, resuming his vigil from the balustrade. But there was no clear dismissal as he might have previously offered, so she decided to join him. 

For a while there was silence, and not the companionable kind that felt comfortable and unintrusive. Instead it was awkward, festering in the air with a growing awareness of each other’s presence.

It was rare for them to be in the same room before she’d left, and now their conversations often revolved around policy, budgeting, and strategy. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like a brother rather than a guardian, or an advisor. Or an enemy.

“You didn’t even listen to Reaver’s proposal in court today,” Logan pointed out. “He barely got to speak before you decided to agree to Samuel’s request.”

Her jaw clenched at the mention of Reaver; she found the man to be completely repugnant, and if it weren’t for the looming threat of the Darkness and the lack of anyone more suited to head up Bowerstone Industrial, she’d have had him arrested by now. He was an unpleasant necessity within the court… for now.

But as sleepless as she was, she was too tired to defend her decision to steamroll over Reaver.

“Can we just… not talk about work? For once?” she sighed. “I made my decision, it’s done. Now we move on.”

Logan paused for a moment, then nodded.

“Of course. Though your assistant, Hobson? He was telling anyone who’d listen how you’d so generously donated to the royal treasury to cover the costs of reopening the Academy. If you were wondering what people are saying.”

She had been, and rarely did her mind come up with anything good to say. A little confirmation of the opposite ought to have been a relief, but she’d learned quickly to not put too much stock in Hobson’s flattery or his criticism. He was, as he’d said so himself, a toady, so he’d say whatever kept him in her good graces all while remaining fixated on the state of the treasury.

For a while they lapsed back into silence as they stared out over the city. In just under a year, it would be a warzone. And unless they could build the army they needed before then, it would become a graveyard. Ravaged and lifeless with only the remnants clinging to life on the fringes, trying to hold out against a foe they knew almost nothing about.

The task seemed insurmountable. The money she had raised to aid the rebellion had found use in keeping the coffers full, but would it be enough? How many could she save, realistically? How many would they lose? Would there be a kingdom left to salvage when it was all over?

She wasn’t the only one consumed by such thoughts. 

At her side, Logan had gone stiff, and his blank stare was fixed on one spot. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone white, and after a moment passed, Lorna realised that he wasn’t breathing.

“Logan?”

He didn’t respond and when she placed a hand on his shoulder, she could feel him trembling in spite of himself. His face had gone white and whatever facade of self-control he had managed to maintain had finally began to crumble.

“Logan. You need to breathe,” Lorna said with a gentle firmness, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s not here yet. We’ve got time to prepare. Breathe in.”

It took him a moment to do as she instructed, and it clearly took a lot more effort than he would ever admit to.

“In. Then hold it. And out slowly.”

Her hand slipped into his, and he unconsciously gripped it as a drowning man might grip the hand of his saviour as he was pulled from the depths. Lorna squeezed back and continued to repeat the simple instructions.

Bit by bit, Logan began to uncoil. The tension trickled from his frame and the trembling in his grip finally began to subside as the colour returned to his face. He blinked hard a few times as if to clear his eyes of the stray tears that had gathered there, then flinched slightly when Lorna reached up to thumb them away before melting into the contact.

A low breath shook itself from his lungs.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay.”

When she had faced the Darkness, she had had Walter and Lexel at her side throughout the ordeal and they had come out the other side alive. Logan had gone to Aurora with his men and returned alone as the sole survivor of the Darkness, only to be burdened with the knowledge that it would follow him back to Albion. She might begrudge her brother for many things, but this wasn’t one of them. She didn’t want to imagine how she’d be dealing with all of this if she had been in his shoes.

Still… it was so strange to find herself standing opposite him like this when so much had changed. From brother and sister to King and Rebel Princess to Queen and Advisor… When was the last time they had just been siblings?

She was drawn from her thoughts when Logan addressed her again.

“Strange how well you remember that exercise,” he murmured. “Do you remember where you learned it?”

She paused then shook her head.

“It was after Mother died. You were inconsolable for months. Every time you wanted her and realised that she wasn’t there anymore, you had a panic attack,”  he explained soberly. “I remember asking everyone I could think of if they knew anything if there was anything I could do to help. A friend of mine had the answer, funnily enough. Lady Shaw. She said that breathing is key to keeping a level head.”

“Smart woman, Lady Shaw,” Lorna said with a small smile.

“She was.”

A ghost of a melancholic smile touched his lips before he straightened up. His hand slipped from Lorna’s and all too quickly he began to reclaim that facade of calm control.

“It’s late, and we have much to do tomorrow,” he said evenly. “You should get back to bed-”

“Logan, wait.”

He froze, and Lorna swallowed hard.

“I just…” 

She floundered, unsure of what it was she actually wanted to say. That she wanted him to be her brother again? That he didn’t need to carry his burden alone anymore? That no matter what, they were in this together? That she needed him?

Ultimately words were insufficient. Too clumsy, too formal, too limited. So instead she wrapped her arms around him, buried her face into the crook of his neck and held on tight. 

Logan was all angles and lean muscle, wound tight like a spring at first, before he surrendered to whatever base desires he had long deprived himself of and gripped Lorna tightly to his chest, firm and solid and warm. Once he had been a place of safety; a place to flee when the world was dark or overwhelming and she needed someone to turn to.

Maybe he could be again. And maybe now, she could be the same for him.

[otonymous]

The Taming of the Fox: Lucien’s Firsts (NSFW Headcanon)

Hey Dear Nonnies,

Thank you both for your incredibly kind words and for waiting so patiently for these Lucien headcanons 💕You are absolutely right...I am a total hot mess when it comes to Lucien, and with the King’s birthday coming up on November 15th, I figured now’s the time to finally finish up this WIP that’s been lingering around for months 😂

Warning: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised.  

Naughtiness ensues after the cut! 

Dark Knights In White Coats: Your Relationship With Lucien:

Things will never be "just comfortable” with Lucien, as he has a knack for keeping you on your toes.  He’ll make your heart race with the slightest touch, the briefest of glances…the most lascivious words spoken with the elegant voice of a gentleman

This will be the case regardless of how long you've been together.  In a sense, your relationship will never lose that initial spark of excitement

The man is a scorpio and has a lot of traits that typically characterize natives of this sign (according to the numerous astrology websites I’ve combed through in my lifetime LOL - no offence meant to any lovely scorpio readers!): tall, dark and handsome, intense, guarded and mysterious.  Full of an effortless sensuality and prone to jealousy

He’s the type of man to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while he’s binding your hands to the bedpost or has you bent over his knee

With Lucien, there is always something new to discover, and there are times when you feel like you will never fully understand the depths and complexities of this man.  And like a moth drawn to flame, this will both excite and disconcert you

But one thing will always, always, be crystal clear and unshakeable: the strength and sincerity of his love for you

Lucien is seemingly a man of contradictions, capable of drawing people in with his allure while simultaneously setting them on edge (this is canon)

Get ready to be the envy of all the girls: women are making eyes at Lucien left, right and centre wherever he goes, but he never spares them a single glance — the man only has eyes for you

Lucien is an INTENSE lover in addition to being the perfect gentleman: he will make you feel like the only other person in the world

When he’s with you, you’re the sole focus of his attention: he’s looking you in the eye, nodding his head while you speak, asking the right questions and making appropriate insights.  It’s not so much a casual conversation than really connecting with one another, practically spiritual at times.  He’s not one for meaningless small talk

Even when you’re not with him, you’re never far from his mind.  He’s frequently showering you with gifts for no reason other than the fact that they reminded him of you in some way: a bouquet of your favourite blooms that he saw in the florist’s storefront, a knitted scarf because he remembered the way you pulled up the collar of your coat when he last picked you up from work, a delicate pendant necklace because he can’t get the contours of your collarbones out of his head

He’s kissing your hand, opening doors, pulling out chairs, draping his coat over your shoulders as you walk through the park at dusk on a cool fall evening

He’s tucking stray hairs behind your ear and walking on the outside of the sidewalk to shield you from traffic

He’s also whisking you away into shadowy corners and dark alleyways, kissing you breathless as he presses you up against cool brick — his fervent hand exploring beneath your skirt before he hoists your legs to wrap them about his muscular waist  

You’ve never felt this way about any one else before, and you know you never will again

Being in love with Lucien is like riding a roller coaster: exhilarating, and not for the faint of heart

Kiss Me:

Your first kiss with Lucien is as contradictory as the man himself: objectively tame, yet the most sensual kiss you’ve ever received

After inviting you to an evening screening of Hitchcock’s Rear Window at the cinema, he sees you to your door, patiently waiting as you rummage through your purse for your keys

The man is standing so close that the intensity of his gaze on the back of your neck is practically palpable, so much so that you almost drop your keys when you find them

And when you finally manage to open the door, you’re lingering awkwardly at the threshold, trying to think of any reason at all to stave off that awful word, “Goodbye”

Lucien suddenly reaches out a large hand to gently finger an earring before those elegantly tapered tips graze the sensitive skin of your lobe, sending electricity down your spine and goosebumps blooming across your neck and chest

“I’ve never seen this pair on you before.  Could it be that you got them especially for our date?”

Embarrassed to be found out and not wanting to own up to how eager you were to see Lucien outside a professional capacity, you avert your gaze, staring intently at the ground as your face flushed red

Leaning in closer, the handsome tease chuckles softly, breath hot against your ear when he whispers: “Would you think me foolish if I told you that makes me very happy?"

You're positive your heart is going to beat its way out of your chest

Then slowly…slowly…Lucien’s lips cross from ear to cheek, torturously close to touch as his breath drags light across the ultra fine hairs of your skin

In the meantime, the professor's hand has travelled to the nape of your neck, thumb drawing gentle circles on your skin even as his other arm wraps around your waist to pull you impossibly close

And when those soft lips hover mere millimetres away from yours, you’ve already fallen so deeply into those dark violet eyes that the press of his mouth on your own is as natural as breathing, your lips parting in a desperate plea for him to deepen the kiss

Then, the tip of his tongue lightly traces the inside of your lips, grazing the edges of your teeth before Lucien pulls away to leave you breathless and wanting as he whispers, “Sweet dreams,” with the most devilish smirk

Forget sweet dreams, sleep itself will prove elusive as you spend the night incredibly pent up, knowing a mere wall is the only thing separating you from your seductive neighbour

Say I Love You:

Note: this portion of the headcanon was heavily inspired by Lucien’s Autumn Blaze date

It will take a while for Lucien to tell you he loves you

But when he does, the force and solemnity of his confession leaves absolutely no doubt that this is no mere lip service, that even if you doubt whether the sun will rise the following day, you cannot doubt that — body, heart and soul — Lucien loves you with every fibre of his being

The professor makes good on his promise to take you to visit the Maple Trail in Canada

And there, the two of you wander through a wooded area, secluded amongst the serenity of maple trees with their lush, crimson foliage

Suddenly, a wind blows, soft but insistent to gently shake the boughs until the bright blue sky is momentarily a blazing blur of red, leaves pulled from branches to float to the ground like tiny dancers, as if you and Lucien were encased within some fantastic snow globe

Completely fascinated, it isn't until you turn to Lucien to point out the swirling colours that you see him already staring intently at you, the yearning and melancholy etched into those dark eyes and handsome face made more poignant by the swirls of red that occasionally cut across your vision of the man standing a short distance away, the afternoon sun filtering through a dwindling canopy to bathe him in dappled brilliance.  He never seemed more dignified in his long, black coat as he did amidst a backdrop of vermilion bursts

The man looks almost ethereal.  And for a moment, you're afraid to even speak, let alone touch him, for fear his very being might disperse like mist before your eyes

“I love you.”

His voice is so soft and low that you wonder whether you imagined the words, carried away by an unforgiving gust of wind as soon as they formed on the tip of his tongue.  And just as you open your mouth to respond, you freeze…a nebulous sense of dread rendering you still and mute

You finally regain your senses at the sound of leaves crunching crisp under the soles of Lucien’s shoes as he approaches, but it isn’t until he says, “You’re cold,” that you realize your hands were shaking at your sides.

The professor swiftly unbuttons his wool coat and gently pulls you to his broad chest before wrapping it around you both.  His radiant heat and fresh, clean scent  — simultaneously arousing and comforting — stirs up a keen ache from the pit of your stomach that is quieted the further you bury your face into those hard pecs, allowing the steady beat of his heart to calm your own

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and willing your touch to transmit the emotions you couldn’t find the words to convey at the moment, the absolute euphoria you felt to hear those words fall from Lucien’s lips frightens you.  Because you know, in your heart of hearts, that no matter what happens, you would never love another person the way you loved Lucien.

The First Taste:

As with the professor's confession of love, Lucien isn’t one to rush into sex

When you finally get to doing the deed, it will be passionate, intense, and the closest you'll ever get to a spiritual experience

It will feel like merging physically and emotionally with a soulmate.  Like being reunited with someone who has loved you deeply in every single incarnation of your past lives

It will also absolutely ruin you for anyone else

That first night, you are both almost crazed in your passion, swept up in such a frenzy you’re already clawing at each other’s clothes before the door is even closed

It may have something to do with the fact that the two of you have wanted to jump each other’s bones since day one, despite the fact that you have magically managed to hold out till now.  The delayed gratification will make the act all the more sweet and intense

Lucien’s large hand has got your wrists pinned together above your head even as he’s kicking the door shut, his body pressing yours insistently against the wall as your legs part around his muscular thigh.  Meanwhile, his other hand yanks off his tie, fingers unbuttoning the collar of his dress shirt, which has grown altogether too constrictive, much like the crotch of his pants 😆

The rhythm of his breath is hypnotic as the professor licks the delicate column of your neck in broad strokes before sucking on the tender skin just at the jugular, Lucien deriving indescribable pleasure to feel the minute beat of your pulse against the tip of his tongue

And when he sees the colours that bloom on your flesh as a result of his attentions, he cannot help but smile in admiration at how beautifully marked you are as his woman

You bury your face in the silky strands of Lucien’s ebony hair, surrendering to this man as you drown in his intoxicating scent: the sweetness of freshly-snipped grass and the vitality of rain-drenched earth.  And everything about this moment — about you and him together  — just feels so natural, kismet.  Meant to be.

Then suddenly, the heat that had been simmering beneath your skin flares, and you positively burn for want of his touch on your bare flesh.  So when his hands grip the silk of your blouse to rip it open, your chest heaves in relief as you moan into his kiss, prompting Lucien to deepen it by slipping his tongue further into your mouth

At this point, you're tearing at Lucien's dress shirt and shamelessly grinding onto his thigh, seeking even the slightest bit of friction to ease the intense yearning for release

Your knees go weak when Lucien unhooks your bra to gently slide the straps down your arms, a reverent look upon his face as he takes a moment to admire your breasts before bending to suck a nipple into his wet, hot mouth — one hand pinching and rolling the other to a hardened peak as the other reaches down to feel the moisture dripping between your legs, making a mess of his pants even through satin and lace.

His fingers drive you insane, stroking the swell of your folds through the slick fabric before hooking around to touch you directly, the tight circles he drew about your clit making you twitch before you clenched around his index, middle…and then ring fingers, diving deep in unison until the wet sounds compete with your panting breaths in an otherwise silent room

When the professor finally removes his hand from your pussy, he brings those glistening digits to his lips, making a show of licking your arousal from each finger as he remarks in a deep, husky voice about the sweetness of your taste

Finally pulling off his dress shirt to reveal the perfection that is his broad chest, defined torso and muscular arms, Lucien drops to his knees, gently pulling down your skirt and underwear before he drapes your leg over his shoulder, hands steadying you as he tastes you directly, lips pressing soft on the inside of your thighs before his tongue is running greedily along the length of your folds as if he were trying to slake an unquenchable thirst

Just when you’re about to topple over from a shuddering climax, Lucien wraps your legs around his waist and carries you over to the bed, gently laying you down and kissing your forehead before he rises to step out of his pants

You bite back a gasp when you finally see his erection.  Sure, you had palmed it many, many times before during countless make-out sessions, but you had never seen the full extent of Lucien’s length and girth.  

You secretly thrill at the thought of taking such a well-endowed man within yourself, biting your lip to think of the bittersweetness of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain 

Fighting to control the impatient way your hips lift towards the professor as he coats his cock in your juices — his heat searing as it teased about your entrance — you focus instead on the intensity of his eyes, solemnly locked on yours even as his jaw trembled to feel you envelop him, impossibly tight as he began to push into you

Ever the considerate lover, Lucien pushes in gradually, giving you time to accommodate him - every inch by delicious inch - until he is fully sheathed to the hilt, your pussy clenching even as you breathed deep in an attempt to relax and open yourself further for him

Then, when you smile up at him, Lucien begins to move again, hips slow at first to give you a taste of things to come before he builds up speed, throwing your legs over his shoulders to allow himself to plough deeper into you.  You can literally feel him at the pit of your stomach.

At this point, the headboard is hitting the wall in time to Lucien’s hard thrusts against your body (you make a mental note to apologize to the neighbours later and say you were hanging pictures in the middle of the night)

When the professor suddenly adjusts his angle and hits that spot, his fingers reach once more between your legs to rub at your clit and you fall apart in the midst of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your life

Pressing his mouth to yours in another desperate kiss, Lucien's release follows soon after.  And there is something so incredibly satisfying about feeling him spill hot and deep within your body, the man leaving behind a piece of himself like the way he made a home within your heart

And as he pulls you close within a warm embrace, you lay your head against his chest, the gradual descent of his heart rate lulling your pleasantly exhausted body to sleep

“Goodnight, my little butterfly," Lucien whispers, watching your eyelids flutter under the influence of sleep like delicate wings.  His heart has never, ever, felt so full.

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You made it to the end! 😆 Thanks so much for reading, and check out more of my work here! 📚

[i-am-just-a-kiddo]

favourite male fictional characters

Thank you @vishcount​ for tagging me, this was a lot of fun! 💞 I originally planned to follow your example and put ten characters here but suddenly it became a lot more oops. also i hope you forgive me for following your format, it’s neat 

I am tagging @isabellaofparma​ , @the-cloud-whisperer​ and @sassyassassy​!

I chose the characters that impacted me deeply on a personal level throughout my life (often shown by how long my love lasts over the years and if i was inspired to write for them). 

In no specific order under the cut: 

Legolas

The Lord of The Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien. 

I think it’s only fitting I start off with this magnificent guy. Maybe I gotta admit, i’ve just had a crush on him ever since I was like, nine years old? He’s the character I will fight tooth and claw for (though I guess he doesn’t need me to do that). I love Orlando Bloom’s portrayal of him, eventhough he is vastly different from the books. Book Legolas is such a delight as well, he feels so whimsical and playful and his banter with Gimli is just gold. I was sad when The Hobbit trilogy came out and I was so disappointed by how they butchered his character, it just did not feel authentic anymore (maybe I am also just bitter about the forced hetero storyline for him. makes no cents, this elf is GayTM your honour. and he will meet his soulmate Gimli in a few decades).  Either way, Legolas is the love of my life, thanks for coming to my tedtalk,

Peter Pan 

Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie

Another childhood crush of mine. The gif I chose if from the 2005 movie because we always used to watch it and it is to this day one of my favourite movies. It’s so dreamy, so magical, yet also incredibly sad and sweet.  I have this very strange fascination with Peter Pan. There is something incredibly unsettling about him, especially in the book. He represents something every child wants - who doesn’t want to escape their bedroom and fly away to experience magical adventured far from the adult world? And yet he also represents the impossibility of it, the curse he carries around with himself because he will forever stay alone, no matter how many lost boys he gathers around himself. And Wendy - it’s a love that was never meant to grow and mature, it’s a fleeting dream for the both of them.  I have seen many different adaptations of Peter Pan and I have my favourites, though I want to give a special mention to the book Peter Darling by Austin Chant. It’s a retelling of the story how we know it, in which Peter returns to Neverland after having finally grown up BUT the main points I want to highlight is trans Peter? Heck yes. Gripping and compelling gay love story with our favourite original lost boy Captain Hook? YES. 

Snufkin

Moomins, Tove Jansson.

I have discovered Snufkin for myself only last year, and yet I know he will stay with me forever. In short - I vibe with him, he vibes with me. His anxieties about being with people and longing for solitude? His fear of being loved and being important to someone to a point he doesn’t know what to do with himself? This man just wants to roam freely with his own mind and yet he always returns for something that captures him. Mum, I love him because I have rarely felt this seen before. Also, Snufkin said ACAB. 

Prince Jing - Xiao Jingyan

Nirvana in Fire (2015)

This too is a darling I have only discovered recently. I watched Nirvana in Fire this year and let me tell you, it’s the best show I have seen in a long while. It’s absolutely amazing and it also ripped my heart out. All the characters are absolutely amazing and I am still not over it.

To be honest, I contemplated between Xiao JIngyan and Mei Changsu, because character-wise I think the latter is a lot more interesting and compelling. He makes for a fantastic heartbreaking and flawed protagonist.

However I have to admit - it was love at first sight with Prince Jing for me and I’m still lowkey mad abt it rip. Seems like I am not immune to Pretty Prince Propaganda. But apart from that, I adore him for his genuine

goodness,

his almost naive drive to be better and seek justice. He lost everything, and for the longest time did not have anything to fight for. So alone and lost and bitter, it makes me sad how much it hardened him. He is heartbreak and clumsy kindness hidden under a skin of scars that was inflicted by his father and many others. I see his sad cat-eyes and I cry, that’s just how it is.

Edmund Pevensie

The Chronicles of Narnia, C. S. Lewis

I grew up with these books and movies - they have always been part of my life and it will probably always stay that way (only last night I rewatched the first movie and sobbed).  Imagine my surprised when I finally watched the last movie about five years ago and was incredibly impressed by how they adapted the book; also imagine my brain suddenly going CASMUND in bold letters at Skandar Keynes’ and Ben Barnes’  performance in that movie.  From there, I rediscovered this story completely anew for myself. My favourite Pevensie sibling has always been Lucy (and still is, because I identify with her so much and she feels like home to me); however this new discovery of Edmund’s character was overwhelming. It’s interesting to see characters you’ve grown up with from a more grown up point of view. I don’t want to lay out all my thoughts here, just know I am so heartbroken for him, and so so proud as well. His character arc is amazing and maybe that’s how the last movie makes me even more emotional. Seeing Edmund and Lucy still holding on to Narnia but knowing that that door was closing for them? Not to mention what happens in the later books (we don’t talk about that).  Also did I mention Casmund. Here, have my incredibly emo and depressing take on Edmund’s character that I started writing four years ago and which will forever stay a WIP. 

Nie Huaisang

The Untamed (2019)

My son. My soul. My bane of existence. The tragic thing about him is, that he does not really exist in canon as I have created him for myself. He’s a secondary character in the show, always so relatable yet still brings the ultimate twist of the story, yet he still remains this incomplete shadow. The movie

Fatal Journey

gave him a lot more and I cried tears of joy and devastation. I don’t know why I latched on to him so much, but apparently he is the one that I project on, the one that feels like he sits somewhere inside my chest. I don’t know what else to say - this year he has been everything to me. I spend a lot of time in his head while writing, and maybe that’s how he’s there forever now. Nie Huaisang saw my brain and went it’s free real estate. All my love for you, you dramatic art hoe.

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Ah, another lifelong companion. There are many adapations that I adore - starting from the origin of it all, the books and stories which I have all devoured; the 80s adaptation with Jeremy Brett which was incredibly wonderful; to BBC Sherlock which shaped and traumatised me (I still like the first three seaons but I am too hurt to think about it); to the numerous movies -  but by far my most favourite performance is Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes. Somehow he manages to capture the Holmes I see in my head when I read the books, the sharp yet polite eccentric detective, who loves his companion so much and who has desire to help others.  Sherlock Holmes will always stay special to me, in so many different ways. He shaped my youth and I know he will stay with me. (also what would you say when I told you he helped me discover that I can, in fact, be queer AND ace at the same time? thanks pal).  What else is there to say? Sherlock Holmes is a universe that you can dive into and find many amazing treasures. 

Isak Valtersen 

SKAM (2015)

There he is, the boy that changed my life. SKAM changed my life. All of the characters did. However, Isak is special for many, as I imagine. I remember winter 2016, when tumblr was flooded by these norwegian white boys kissing in a pool and cuddling and I was like ‘nah’, this doesn’t look convincing.  I don’t know what changed my mind but I remember sitting down at last and watching all that was released of season three and it was only downhill from there. I remember starting to follow the real life updates religiously while watching the other previous seasons in between. The one clip that completely wrecked me was when Isak went to the school nurse about his struggles with sleep - it felt like for the first time I saw someone on screen that could understand me on so many different levels. The entierty of seaons three is so personal, I would tell you to go watch it if you don’t know what I mean. The entire show in fact. It’s a masterpiece and it feels so real. This show impacted my life in a way that no show has managed to do before. I miss it so much. I miss Isak too sigh. 

Shang Xirui

Winter Begonia (2020)

Technically, for me personally, Shang Xirui is the nonbinary, gay and ace representation I need in my life (or at least that’s my own personal take on him), but since that is not official, he’s still here on this list. Of course he is because wow, it’s been a long while since I’ve seen such a compelling character on screen. I went from disliking him to being absolutely heartbroken over him. I don’t think any other character in this show captured me as much as he did. There are so many layers to him and discovering all of his sides is a wonderful, heartbreaking, painful and also beautiful journey. I’m not sure I understand all of him yet, but I am willing to try and dig and just ponder his existence. This too, is a perfect example for a flawed yet authentic protagonist. Also he is the most beautiful thing on this planet, or at least that’s how I have been feeling ever since I watched this. I wish to write more of him in the future. 

Aang

Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005)

I grew up watching ATLA and my favourite characters have always been Toph, Zuko and Uncle Iroh. In recent years however, I completely fell in love with Aang all anew. 

I think especially in the past, I had these prejudices against main characters and found them all the most boring personalities ever. In recent years this changed a lot and especially Aang is a prime example for that. Watching him from the perspective of older me, I find so much wisdom in this young boy. Somehow he represents all I wish to be in my life but at the same time he shows his flaws, he carries this sadness with him that will accompany him all his life. This inner battle and chaos that he has to face day to day and in the end - he is just a young boy. So much has been taken from him and yet he learns how to not let it overtake him, that anger and hurt. He tries his hardest to be better than the day before, even if sometimes the world crashes down on him and he gets overwhelmed. He is a child recruited by adults to manage their mistakes and play into the hands of predestined fate and in this essay I will -

Harry Potter 

Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling

I am surprised myself. I thought I would put Fred and George here, or Remus and Sirius, however I realised that none of them quite capture this feeling of lifelong change, of personal, deep impact that Harry had on me. 

As with Aang above, I used to think Harry was the most boring protagonist, yet my opinion took a 180° turn in the past years. Many of the things I wrote for Aang apply to him too - the fact that he was a child, that lost so much, and was always faced with challenges that a child should never have needed to face. Something I want to address is how my favourite book, The Order of the Phoenix, lays all of this out. Harry is just as flawed, just as vulnerable and angry as anyone else. I know some people did not like his ‘emo behaviour’ in the fifth book but for me it just showed how human he is, how he was just a teen like myself at that time. As for many, this boy shaped my entire life, shaped a generation, and I will forever be grateful. I’m sad and angry at how J*R behaves, and how she puts us in the position of doubting our love for these stories. I know I will always love them, but I will not turn a blind eye on all the problematic shit is carries with itself and what the author piles upon us. 

Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian 

The Untamed (2019)

I will try and keep this short, because if you want to read my thoughts about Wangxian just go to my ao3 and find the  over 70k i wrote for them.  I decided to put them here together because I can’t seperate them and I can’t choose between them. Each of them carries something I recognise in myself, and each of them is the opposite of me. They each own my heart and soul and I know there will never be a fictional couple like this for me ever again. They’ve snuck their way into my heart and have never left. They deserve to be here, together, because my love for them is indescribable. Bless them.  + Bonus:

The Doctor

Doctor Who (1963/2005)

Technically, the Doctor doesn’t count as a “male” character, but since he has been presenting as male up until recently, I needed to include him. I chose the Tenth Doctor because he is the one that broke my heart the most. I adored Nine but he was there too short, and I do love Eleven and Twelve a lot, and Thirteen absolutely owns my heart, Ten has just always been the one that made me cry the most. I loved this era of Doctor Who, I loved how sad and hopeful he was, how heartbroken and yet determined to help wherever it was needed. Doctor Who is always that show, when I return to it, I am reminded that maybe, humanity and the universe isn’t all that bad. 

phew, this took ages damn. but i had so much fun! i decided to leave out honorable mentiones because we would be sitting here until tomorrow lol. 

[moonlightheretic]

WIP Wednesday The Heretic: Chapter Unknown

“Where are we?” I struggled to find my bearings in this dark tunnel. The ground seemed unstable, pebbles shifting underfoot. My hands reached out in a blind haste for something solid to guide me through the dark. The walls practically disintegrated at my touch and nearly caved inwards. I did not feel safe. This place was one wrong step away from total collapse. I stumbled, my feet slipping into the rock ridden path, his hand caught my arm.

“You do not need to know.” He answered simply, pulling me to my feet.

It was becoming his go-to reply for everything I asked. I wasn’t satisfied with it. He watched my struggle and called flame to his hand, the hollowed cave’s secrets scattered into the shadows cast by the wiggling ignition. “You have stripped me of my weapons and most of my dignity. Do you mean to strip me of basic information as well? Am I so scary to you, Dread Wolf?” I challenged. Bitterness chewing through my words.

“They elected you as Inquisitor, not for your skill in battle alone. You are formidable. In any case, there is no benefit in informing you, it will make little difference. You will activate this one, as done previously.” His voice dipped into the octaves of an order.

“Where are we?” I pressed. “I want to know what you will destroy.” I stood firm, shoulders squared, refusing to tread further. He turned to face me, the blaze in his hand distorting the shadows across the planes of his face.

“When has any truth of my plans comforted you? Or perhaps, any truth at all? You live, stuck in a halcyon that never existed and you yearn for its return.”

“And who painted that pretty picture for me? This impressive hiraeth? A lie built on lies, a tower, and then brick by brick, a rotunda, and finally, a castle! What a beautiful empire you raised. Such an artist as you perhaps, should have erected that on Skyhold’s walls.”

We dove into a thick silence, neither of us giving in. I could almost see him biting his tongue, any remark quelled by fledgling self-control. He took a breath and smiled.

“You evade blame almost as skillfully as you evaded me, ah, but then again, where are you know?” He tilted his head, his left brow raised. “I wonder, what more dances have you that I not discovered yet?”

“I believe it was you who taught me to dance, Solas. I cannot take credit for my skills, when I have the master in front of me.” I gestured to him.

A muscle in his neck twitched and the fire cradled in his fingers strengthened significantly, staining his skin red.

“There is work to be done. Enough.” Even though the fire was causing us both to sweat in this enclosed space, his words were of pure ice.

We advanced upon this hovel, a crumbling crooked crevice of rock and stalagmites, dripping with Maker knows what. His steps were full of confidence and prior knowledge, muscle attuned with memory. He maneuvered past the tight angles with experience. He had been here before, perhaps?

“Whose bright idea was to locate an artifact in this dreadful place?” I snapped, as I was compelled to duck when a bat screeched by my head. Ah, but if a bat made its home here, surely there was an additional entrance to this hollowed nightmare.

He answered me with a chuckle and then reassured, “It isn’t far. Have patience, Inquisitor.” Ah, so he was no longer angered by my words, or had he folded the displeasure up and saved it for later?

I grabbed his illuminated jaw and snapped his head towards me. “Patience? I waited for you! With each year passing no more than a decade of drought! I have been patient, Solas.”  I wasn’t expecting a simple comment to provoke such raw emotion into my words, but there I was, fingers digging into the flesh of his jaw.

Solas’s eyes crept over my face, tracing every detail with his heavy gaze. “And so you have me.” He remarked gruffly and shrugged me off. A small draft tingled against my skin, the blooming flame flickered and listed, perhaps a vein in this stone body led to freedom, after all. But, I could only see what his flaming palm afforded me.

I felt it before I saw it. The anchor reacted, fizzling, smoke-like, and churning the air around it a greenish hue. My first reaction was to recoil and hide it within my cloak. Solas’s armored arm slithered into the fold of my cloak, the fabric hissing against his metal arm guards. He held onto my throbbing hand, pulling it from its hiding place, cool fingers calming my shivering ones, he presented it to the artifact before us.  Mist entrapped light uncoiled around the artifact, as if we had woken it from a long slumber, its light stretched and billowed in flight, like a flag caught in the wind and it rippled and convulsed, as if it was rejoicing. A warm welcome, indeed. A statue loomed behind, a winged and headless figure of a woman. Mythal. She was immured in this foul place, a feeling of sorrow washed over me.

“We are within the Vimmark Mountains.” He informed, sullen and remorseful, his eyes lingering on the statue.

A mountain chain, opportunity screamed into my mind. Then we could be in the vicinity of Kirkwall or even Ostwick, or rather, it was also possible we were somewhere in between. What mattered the most was the very fact that we were under a mountain.

“Surely, this place has significance.” I argued, playing along, with my eyes following his.

“Indeed.” He whispered.

Solas closed his palm and in doing so, snuffed out his flame. We were bathed in a greenish and golden light, I stole a glance, his mouth set in a hard line, eyes devoid of emotion, and in doing so, he gave me nothing. Unreadable. He was skilled not only in magic, but also, in masking his intentions. He was undeniably powerful, but so was I.

My heart hammered in my chest, possibly my only chance at stopping the Dread Wolf lay within these simple and faulty rock walls, carved out by water. Maybe, I did not need my little dagger, for it, could not compare with a mountain.

The next set of actions were to be done without instruction, as they were no different than the times prior. But this time, everything would be different. Hesitation would no longer best me.

I neared the artifact, Solas stepped behind me and observed. I lifted my hand and waited, the artifact pulsated with green waves of light surging upwards, and revealing thousands of tiny eyes glaring back at us in this aphotic sanctuary. Fucking bats.

I felt my release and I moved closer to it, the lights brightened in response, and I wondered, could I not only activate the artifact with the anchor, but also destroy it? Hell, I could bring this entire cave down and trap him in, weaponize our very surroundings…and so I did. I had only used the anchor’s power as much as I required of it, in the past, I was too careful to abuse it. That some calamity might befall myself and others if I used it for anything but its intended purpose, but what I needed most was in fact, calamity, itself.

I opened a rift right into the very center of the artifact. In less than a blink of an eye, it exploded into a shower of glass and stone, its ancient powers reveling in the new found freedom. In an instant, the small pocket of this mountain, shuddered and began to collapse, as the rift twisted it into its own shape, pulling and knotting, then thrusting and flailing. The bats flew to an escape as dust, stalagmites and murky water rained down, then chunks of rock plummeted downwards until the very ceiling threatened to fold in like a deck of cards. I tried to avoid the falling debris as the area shook, thunderous and vengeful. I could hear the bats, screeching in terror and I made my way to follow them.

“Moon’Hwa!” Solas roared. Eyes lit, his hands invoked a barrier, though as the mountain piled high, he was struggling to hold it. He gritted his teeth and grunted under the weight, too preoccupied to stop me, for if he let go, we would surely be buried. So this was his limit. I crawled along the ground, my back was pelted with rocks and earth. I covered my head with one hand and dug through debris with the other. He fell to his knee behind me, his gaze burning a hole in my back. The consequences of my actions stopped ricocheting from my body, I peered upwards to realize that his barrier was stretching, enveloping me within its safety.-----------------

So I am not sure where this chapter is going to end up...as in numerically where it will sit. It is not done yet...but it is further along then what I posted. I fear it will be too long to post here in full. 

@followingthewolf | @noire-pandora | @kita-lavellan | @jarakrisafis @stratsome-jack | @musetta3 | @weird-in-thedas | @eccentriccoffeebird | @5lazarus | @shadowcrow @anavakarian | @mrstethras | @silvanils @sratsome-jack 

[neirawrites]

AUGUST EVENT: Your Antagonist’s Backstory

Name: Zana Rahimi

WiP: Phantom Limb (intro)

Week 1 (x)

Week 2 (x)

Week 3 (- August 16th): Choice

They hadn’t seen each other in almost a decade.

For a man pushing his second millennia, it should have seemed like a meaningless amount of time, but these days the world changed too fast for Bata’s liking. A beginning of a new millennia was looming on the horizon and Bata knew it would be unlike anything he had seen before.

Zana agreed to meet him. She had left Sarajevo shortly before the War, but Bata was here through the whole occupation. He couldn’t just leave the city he had nurtured from the first stone. He was no longer a part of this world, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t help save it. His existence as a ghost gave him a few advantages over his flesh and blood neighbors. For one, snipers could not hurt him.

-I guess I’m just really lucky,- he explained whenever anyone asked him about all the “close calls” and near death experiences. In actuality, in the two millennia he had been on this planet he had one near death experience and it happened long time ago, among the people who no longer existed, long before the Slavs or the Ottomans or the Austrians took a hold of his land. It involved a handful of belladonna berries given to him by a woman who now carefully adjusted her hat as she came out of a cab and into a snow storm that raged outside.

Age had little effect on Zana Rahimi, as she now called herself, but in the past two millennia she had transformed from a teenager to an adult woman, who looked like she could be in her late thirties or early forties. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, but the cold Sarajevo air did not make her cheeks red, like it would have to any other person, maybe because Zana was human, but only by the loosest definition.

-Uncle Bata!- she said when she saw he already awaited her. She ran to him and jumped into his arms, like she was still that little girl he raised so long ago. –I have missed you so much.-

Bata hugged her back and smiled, as the feeling of genuine joy overwhelmed him, almost making him forget why he called her here in the first place.

They spoke in a language long forgotten, a tongue of the people who no longer existed. It was only the two of them, the last Daesitiate in existence.

-How have you been, my child?- he asked her. They walked alone on the old city square that still bore the scars of a thousand days of occupation. Neither of them left footprints on the snow behind them. He was a dead man and, for this evening walk, Zana joined him in his world.

-Better than I have been in a long time.-

-I can see it in you,- he admitted, even if the honesty of her words hurt. –And I know what brought that kind of change in you.-

For hundreds of years, Zana had contemplated the idea of one world, of an age of monstrosity followed by the eternity of peace, but he always managed to talk her out of it. But, it’s been too long and Bata knew he was too late.

-For the first time in my existence, I have a purpose,- she simply said. Bata shook his head.

-Didn’t you have a purpose before? Wasn’t working with the sick and injured, with those dying from AIDS enough for you?- he asked.

-Not when I have the ability to end death.- The calmness of her voice might have made her words sound rational to someone who didn’t understand the meaning behind them, but Bata knew better.

-By killing a thousand people?- he asked. –I know what you want to do and it will lead you down a dark path, my dear. It’s a path your mother wouldn’t have wanted for you.-

-If she did not want it for me, she shouldn’t have created a freak like me! I don’t belong in the real world, uncle. I am half dead and I have never been anything else. I have spent two millennia helpless to save those I loved, but it was never enough. I know now what I need to do. It might take a while, but I will bring down the divide between the worlds. Death will be an obsolete concept.-

-Have you ever bothered to listen to those of us who exist in this world?- he asked. –It’s a bleak existence, it’s static and colorless and it does things to your minds, dark things you cannot even comprehend. And you want to bring this world to every single person in existence-

-It’s better than being dead,- she simply said to him.

He had tried to explain the same thing to her more than once. The people she killed, or who died because of her were all confined to this limbo, a world that stopped them from moving on to the afterlife, but divided them from the real world just enough so they could never be a part of it. The more time passed and the more unfortunate souls joined them, the stronger they became, but it was an inevitable fact that they were dead, stuck in a world with no true joy, where only painful recollections and eternal contemplation were their companions.

Zana never saw the subtle differences that divided the real world and their limbo. She was a child of death, the real life never made sense to her anyway. But this was going too far.

-When will it happen?- he asked her. For a moment, she paused. No matter how far removed from the real world she was, she still knew her actions were monstrous.

-Tomorrow morning, in a subway Ankara. I expect a few dozen people will join us,- she finally answered, her voice barely audible over the storm howling around them.

-You will kill dozens of people, isn’t that what you want to say?- he asked, hoping the direct question might make her reconsider. He knew her plans already. A terrorist attack on the subway, where one of her men would take his own life and the lives of as many others as he could.

-When I take down the barrier in a few years, it won’t matter. They will be back with their loved ones, forever, in a world with no disease and no death.-

-In a world with no color and no change,- he added. –Do you really not care for the lives of innocent people you will slaughter?-

-Don’t you dare tell me I don’t care for the people! They are the reason I’m doing this. I will sacrifice everything, just for them to be safe.-

-You really can’t see it?- he asked, finally accepting her obliviousness to the real questions he was asking.

-I only see the future. A happier one, one without death, without saying goodbye.-

-You will be a monster with 1500 dead bodies in her path and the creator of the world of sadness and grief.-

She turned her back to him, the expression on her face sour, pouting like a child.

-Is that the only reason you called me here? To lecture me about my actions like I hadn’t spent the past decade thinking about it and the past millennia hesitating?-

-I can’t let you do this, Zana. I promised your mother I will take care of you and if I let you do this, I will have failed in my promise. You are not a monster and I will not let you become one.-

Zana’s eyes were wide and full of rage he had never seen before. Despite his better judgment, he almost cracked a small smile at her reaction. She wasn’t that far gone. She could see the error of her way, even if she wasn’t ready to accept it.

Over the past millennia, Zana had caused the death of about a hundred people. Some of them, she killed to save, like Bata. Others like Sergius were an act of self-defense or an accident. A few were killed in her name. But this was different. To go out into the world and sent her the people loyal to her to kill for her, all for the sake of ending the world.

She grabbed his wrist. Anyone else’s hand might have fallen through his own, as his concentrations was slipping away from him, but Zana had power over her dead. He had seen it with his own eyes.

-Don’t make me do this, uncle, you know I don’t want to,- she said, her voice little more than a hiss. He had seen it happen once, only few years after she “saved him”. Back then, this world only had two inhabitants, himself and the soldier named Sergius she murdered. He was a miserable man, crying about his deeds without a pause, unable to move from their little hut where he died, which were too numerous for Zana or Bata to fully comprehend. It happened in an instant. During one of his pitifully sorrowful moments, Zana turned to him, looked him in the eyes and commanded:

-Be happy, for goodness sake!-

Neither of them had seen Sergius as much as frown in the next two millennia. Over the years, he became one of Zana’s most trusted advisors, but both Zana and Bata knew what she did to him was a cruel punishment. He became her puppet, unable to think for himself, locked in perpetual state of happiness he didn’t actually feel.

Both Zana and Bata knew she could do the same to him, if she wanted to, as she had control over those who died by her hand, especially the first few, but she never had the reason to. Until now.

-I can’t let you do this, Zana,- Bata repeated, his voice soft, but he knew it was too late.

-And I can’t let you stop me,- she said. She looked him in the eyes, and said:

-Bata, you are not to try to interfere in my plans in any way. You cannot say anything about me to anyone. I forbid you to.-

Her words might have as well been carved directly into his brain. It was like someone put a wall around his thoughts, blocking him from even thinking about acting on them. But he still felt them in his being. He still knew what Zana wanted to do and his heart burned with the desire to stop her. For the first time since he died, pain overwhelmed his every other sense, but he didn’t show it for even a second.

-Oh,- was all he was able to say. Zana stared at him, her eyes wide in shock at her own actions, but she knew he would listen to her command. In just a few seconds, it became a part of him.

-I’m sorry, uncle,- she said. –But I can’t let anyone stop me. One day, you will see. All of you will understand. I am not a monster. Why can’t you see that?-

Bata didn’t answer her. He looked at her again and only saw his own failure. He was too late. Tomorrow morning, her bloody crusade will begin. 1597 people will lose their lives and the world will come to an end. All he could hope was for someone else to stop her because he knew it was too late for him.

-I’m sorry, Zana,- he said. –I’m sorry I failed you.-

He turned his back to her and walked away, into a cold Sarajevo night.

 *****

It’s 1998, we are just 20 years away from the actual plot. I know it’s a bit long, but once i start writing about Sarajevo i’m like the red hot chill peppers with California and i will spend decades on the same topic. 

Back to my other novel. I’m half a chapter away from the end. wish me luck <3  

[ficclique]

Fic Clique hosts choices for our top fics of the decade - as featured in our Minisode from Jan 3rd. 

Brenna’s choices: 

Honorable Mentions: 

Worldwide Lonesome by loindexter (BTS) 

2018, 39k, Yoongi/Jin 

The biggest gut-punch I’ve ever felt from a character confession. The Jin of this fic has stuck with me every day since reading it. This fic examines sexuality in a way that made me feel seen & I love that.

Timeshare by Astolat (HP) 

2016, 14k, Draco/Harry 

This is sort of a stand-in for all of astolat’s drarry fic, which as a bundle are one of my top fics for the decade. They are fics that feel like instant-classics and the variety of characterizations, stories and tropes helped establish astolat as perhaps my all time favorite fic author. Timeshare won out above the others because it’s one of the fics that helped us decide to do this podcast! Thank you Timeshare! 

Top 5 picks: 

The Student Prince, by Fayjay (Merlin)

2010, 145k, Merlin/Arthur

A fic that has defined fanfiction for me. Perhaps the fic that first convinced me to love fanfiction. Something I keep coming back to and have reread numerous times. Funny, heartfelt, just different enough from the canon versions of characters. Perhaps the only University AU I will ever fully love. 

The Love Song of the North American Douchebag, by Gyzym (Star Trek RPF)

2013, 25k, Chris/Zach

If you want to hear me (and my lovely co-hosts) discuss this fic in depth, then I recommend listening to Episode 6! However, one of our listeners also submitted this as a top fic of the decade, so I’m going to add what the lovely Scout said: 

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, I HOPE I CAN SWEAR. I'm not even in this fandom. The world building is just THAT good. It's one of my highlights *because* of its power to draw me in as a standalone. So much fucking talent in the transformative work community. The banter, characterization, sardonic-ness of this – international impact baby!”

Not Easily Conquered (series), by dropdeaddream & whatarefears (MCU)

2015, 117k, Steve/Bucky 

An incredibly, precise, gut-wrenching trilogy. Each part is astounding both together and apart. A devastating exploration of love and dedication. One of those fics that created a Fandom Moment. I sobbed through the entirety of part 2 when I first read it. Womb to tomb, sweetheart. 

Azoth by zeitgeistic (HP)

2013, 88k, Draco/Harry 

A stunning exploration of magic beyond JKR’s universe. A timeless coming together of two characters. A frankly genius use of a plot device (and something as simple as a school project) to foster an incredibly touching and meaningful relationship, one in which they are not able to find what they need to complete their task until they find what they need in each other.  ALCHEMY BABY! 

Honeysuckle Arch by junkshopdisco (1d) 

2015, 46k, Niall/Harry 

Perhaps the most I’ve ever related to a character in fic. The Niall of this fic lives in my heart, and I feel like reading him helps me understand myself, and everytime I come back to it I understand him better too. It’s a touching portrayal of a character coming to terms with their sexuality in a way that feels completely grounded and who is surrounded by characters who love them, even if they don’t always know how to show it. 

Nicole’s choices: 

Honorable Mentions: 

Protostellar by ninamondays 

bts, 64k, pub 2019, Namjoon/Jungkook & Taehyung/Jimin

Space, cryogenics, fate, reincarnation, class struggles, revolution, climate change, character death. Having hope is punk rock. Processing grief is a slow and ugly process. [deep breath] Have I ever felt so profoundly touched by a fic while I was reading it?

the other thing by cornfields 

hockey rpf, 16k, pub 2015, Jamie/Tyler

An absolutely unflinching look at personal accountability and internalized homophobia. What happens when your self-hatred has collateral damage? It’s about healing but it’ll fucking hurt first. Bleached out vibes. Makes texas feel very big, and the world feel very, very small. A story I’d only trust a fic author to tell.

Top 5 picks: 

Murmuration by fringecity (indiachick) 

bts, 167k, pub 2018, Yoongi/Jimin/Taehyung

Film noir/murder mystery meets gritty sci fi and superpowers. Everyone is morally gray. You Will sob about Kim Taehyung. A masterclass in plot. Felt like a trilogy all wrapped tightly into one fic. A kaleidoscope. An unfurling. This fic mesmerizes.

The River and the Deep Green Bend by liquidmeasure 

1d, 70k, pub 2016, Harry/Niall

Dark tower au, but only technically. Makes me want to believe in the multiverse. An arid western, a sideways coming of age story, an elegy. The first time I’ve ever cried because an ending was perfect.

the undiscovered country by indigostohelit

hamlet, 56k, pub 2014, Hamlet/Horatio

What else can I say about this fic. What else can I Fucking say.

(note: we discuss this fic at length during episode 5) 

All Things Shining by Askance and standbyme

spn, 142k, pub 2013, Dean/Castiel & Sam/ofc

A story about miracles. Literary as hell, with long luxuriant scenes that never drag. Masterful characterization. The thing I wanted from spn fic—connection, plot, and a fic that not only can handle the lore of the show, but is willing to expand upon it.

Who Painted the Moon Black by throughthedark

1d, 95k, pub 2013, Louis/Harry

Hunger games crossover. Doesn’t just use the other fandom for setting, but entirely inhabits it. I had to stop partway through my reread because I knew I’d have nightmares, but this fic never stops hoping. Trauma is not an ending. This fic is certain of that the whole way through.

Reid’s Choices: 

Honorable Mentions: 

songs from the ash, by explosivesky, 2017

Critical Role, Percy/Vex, Keyleth/Vax, 54k, WIP (sort of)

rockstar/movie star AU 

A fantastic example of how fic can just standalone as really good original fiction. A lovingly rendered, devastating and beautifully crafted portrait of four broken people doing their best to navigate through their lives and around one another. 

delta, by sharpa, 2019

BTS, rapline ot3, 60k

What happens when you’re a public figure who gets unwillingly outed, and two people you used to love reach out to offer you sanctuary? You make Reid cry, that’s what. 

Top 5 picks: 

Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl, 2013

Harry Potter, drarry, 60k

Immediately post war, bond

It represents a lot of what I was looking for when I started really getting into Drarry fic, which was an exploration of what canon wouldn’t give me. My favorite Drarry fics have always been the ones that let them dig into their shared trauma, and while this fic isn’t the heaviest one I’ve read, I think the fact that it’s set literally hours after the Battle of Hogwarts ends lends itself well to that concept. I couldn’t have a list of the decade without a Drarry fic, tbh.

The Great Sealand Takeover, by whalehuntingboyfriends, 2015

Roosterteeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, ot6 (gavin, michael, ray, geoff, ryan, jack), 365k

FAHC

When I think about fics that set the standard for a fandom, this is one of the first ones that comes to mind. This fic means a lot to me because it was my introduction to RPF, and in addition to its intricate plot and fandom-constructed lore, also was a take on poly relationships and found families in a way I had never experienced before, with themes of belonging and a love that transcends typical convention.

The Twice-Told Tale by arysteia, 2012

Marvel, steve/tony, 15k

This fic hits a sweet spot for me where it does have some of that 2012 tower-fic nostalgia, but I also think it holds up well in terms of what I (and fandom) find so fascinating about Tony, which is all this grief and trauma that he struggles so hard to process, and the way puts himself at the center of attention to obfuscate the fact that he keeps everyone at a long arm’s length.

There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe, by Shoshanah-ben-hohim, 2015

Hockey, Sid/Geno, Canon Divergent, 77k

& the whole series, including There is a Field, I’ll Meet You There, Alex Galchenyuk/Olli Maata, 131k

When I think about this fic I want to scream from every rooftop I’ve ever been on “please read this fic”. The way it weaves together details to provide a level of grounding and realism in what sounds like the most absurd concept for a fic just floors me. The empathy and compassion and fear in this fic just gets at the most tender parts of my heart, and the fact that it’s ostensibly a ship fic, and yet Sid and Geno spend nearly the entire fic with no communication, but instead are just holding on to the innate truth that they know about one another to get them through this crazy endeavour they’re on elevates the entire fic for me.

what comes after, by poppyseedheart, 2018

Roosterteeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, mavinseg (gavin, meg, michael, lindsay), 36k

Dystopia/Spy AU

When I first read this fic, I finished it and I put it down and then I spent a few days feeling like I was just sort of wandering around in a haze because every single thought was consumed by this fic. In addition to its impeccable worldbuilding and the tone work that it does with its setting, I don’t know that I had ever resonated so deeply with fic characters before. Reading this felt like someone had pried my ribcage open one by one and revealed the softest, most tender parts of me and then went “I’m going to write something that targets this.” This fic is an ode to loss and love, to mourning something that you once had and then hesitantly and clumsily opening yourself up to building something new, and recognizing that, impossibly, that new thing you built can somehow be better than what you had before. 

And I felt all of these things, I felt like my world had just been shattered by this new author I discovered… and then, somehow, I became her friend. Then through Nic I met Brenna, and now when I think about this fic I not only love it for being a work of art, but also for being representative of the thing that brought me to two of the most important people in my life, and that to me will always make it my favorite fic I’ve ever read.

[writingquestionsanswered]

i started a writeblr a few months ago and i want to post things about my wip but i’m really paranoid that someone will take the idea or copy it. do you know ways to prevent this or any advice/tips?

Afraid of Ideas Being Stolen or Copied Once Shared

*** Quick disclaimer to remind you that I’m not a copyright attorney or expert. Always consult the proper attorney when seeking legal advice.

It’s pretty common for writers to worry about someone stealing their ideas once they share them. Sadly, ideas themselves cannot be copyrighted.

17 U.S. Code § 102.Subject matter of copyright: In general (b) In no case does copyright protection for an original work of authorship extend to any idea, procedure, process, system, method of operation, concept, principle, or discovery, regardless of the form in which it is described, explained, illustrated, or embodied in such work.

When you commit your story to a tangible form, such as your manuscript saved on your hard drive, you automatically have copyright over your work. But all that means is someone can’t copy your actual story. It doesn’t prevent them from using ideas and concepts within your story unless they use them in the exact same way, and even then there’s a lot of gray area. 

Copyright litigation is also incredibly time consuming and expensive, so it’s not something you would pursue unless you could prove that the person who stole the idea did you significant financial harm by doing so. Most of the time, that wouldn’t be the case.

Even if ideas were subject to copyright protection, and even if it was easier to pursue litigation, there still would be no way to actually prevent anyone from stealing those ideas. Shoplifting is illegal, but people still do it. You can wear a helmet and pads when you ride your bike, but that doesn’t 100% guarantee you’ll be injury free if you have an accident. Few things are truly 100% preventable. 

However… here are some things to keep in mind:

1) You’re not the only one sharing stuff…

There are thousands upon thousands of writers and authors sharing stuff about their WIPs online. Some share only little tidbits, others practically give away their entire story. Either way, you’re releasing your story details into a vast sea of story details. The odds of someone targeting you for theft, out of all those people, are probably relatively slim.

2) Stories of theft are relatively uncommon…

On Instagram alone, there are numerous hashtags for sharing WIP elements, not to mention oodles of monthly challenges that encourage writers to share that stuff. Despite the thousands upon thousands of writers and authors sharing WIP elements, stories of theft are pretty uncommon. In fact, when it does happen, it’s usually because someone copied a whole published book and re-published it on Amazon under a different name and title. Even that doesn’t happen all that often, but when it does it’s usually dealt with pretty fast.

3) Writing is hard. Publishing is harder.

It’s one thing for someone to see your idea and decide to use it in their own story. It’s an altogether different thing for them to actually take the time and effort to incorporate that idea into a story, finish writing that story, edit and polish that story, and pursue some type of publication for that story. Anyone who would put that kind of effort into creating a book is probably not the sort to steal other people’s ideas. Could it happen? Sure. Will it happen? Unlikely.

4) You can minimize your risk…

If you’re really worried about it, I would certainly avoid sharing anything too specific or anything that’s super unique. If you share an actual excerpt of your story, you may wish to include a copyright notice at the end. On Windows, anyway, you can make the copyright symbol by holding down the alt key and typing 0169. Or you can just type “copyright.” So, you could do something like:

© Jane Doe 2019

Copyright Jane Doe 2019

Again, you would only do this if you are sharing an actual excerpt of your story, and it doesn’t prevent theft. It only discourages it. But, like I said in #3, it’s unlikely someone will steal your excerpt and then take the time to build a whole story around it.

5) Your ideas aren’t as unique as you think they are…

No, I don’t mean that to demotivate you. Your ideas are wonderful, especially in the very specific way you combine them all together to create a story. 

Think of your ideas like Legos. I can give ten kids the same 100 Legos, and every single one will create something different with them. The Legos themselves aren’t unique. Any one Lego has millions of others just like it. What makes Legos unique are the specific combination used and the specific way they’re put together.

Someone might steal your idea for a time travelling mermaid princess, but only you can write the story you specifically have in mind. No one can take those pieces and combine them together the way you can.

Your ideas aren’t unique, but what you do with them is unique to you.

I hope that makes you feel better!

————————————————————————————————-Have a question? My inbox is always open, but make sure to check through my FAQ and post master lists first to see if I’ve already answered a similar question. :)

[bilbotargaryen]

On my current OTP

I held that post back for what feels like ages because I fear a backlash but I just had another cute headcanon for them so I finally have to get this out and about…

About Deaniel

So, I have this OC (pictured in my last WIPs as well) called Daniel Turner and I ship him hardcore with THE Dean Winchester. Before you judge me – hold up for a second.

I do not want to attack Destiel in any way through that – I think it’s a valid ship and Castiel has the heart-eyes for Dean in my AU as well (note: this whole post is compliant to my AU so keep that in mind especially with the Summary part).

BUT I always felt like their relationship wouldn’t really work out. Like, both are super inexperienced (Castiel doesn’t even have a point to start anywhere really) and insecure about themselves and I believe that this just doesn’t make a working, healthy relationship at the end of the day (as said, in my opinion, it also depends on how you pull it off, of course). In my AU he actually has himself a healthy relationship with someone he knew for centuries before...but more on that some when else...

So, now, back on track, I’ve been shipping Deaniel for quite a while now and, maybe, I’ll be able to bring the joy this ship gives me to one of you as well…

So, face reveal you guys…

Curtains up for Dean and Daniel (Yes, I am leaning into the fact that Dean has a type):

About Daniel Turner

Daniel was born on November 13th 1977 on a small farm near Laramie. There he grew up with his mother, father and his father’s parents – mainly his grandmother though, as his grandfather died soon after Daniel’s birth. He attended school in Laramie until he got to study psychology at Stanford University. Later, he’d become an Agent for the FBI where he is still employed to this day.

He’s a very proud and openly gay man who sadly often times gets mislabeled as straight despite his numerous ‘body counts’ all over the states beginning with the stable hands in his family’s barn and ending with all over New York, where his current main flat is located.

Because of that he wasn’t able to hold a relationship longer than a few months and doesn’t seem to be able to be friends with straight women as they (as he puts it) ‘believe they’re the messiah’ and try to turn him around.

He loves to party, make people laugh, gossip and, well, fuck around.

He also loves to talk and he talks a lot, especially about things or people he loves or about things that happened to him, oftentimes in the most dramatic way possible.

Some Fun Facts

He was stalked by his old FBI partner Stanley, therefore is completely repelled by acting controlling himself/being controlled – because he knows how that feels like

His best friend is Georgina ‘Georgie’ Gallagher who he met as his new partner after he was able to dump Stanley: She’s a proud lesbian redhead who is taller than him – without heels (He’s 6.1, she’s 6.2)

If he wouldn’t have become a FBI Agent he would’ve become a standup comedian - he did some skits in several bars until one of his instructors was among the audience once, where he got told to either drop it or he gets dropped

His father’s mother was a stripper and always stood up for Daniel when his father/mother complained about him going through the stable hands

His father tried to turn him around by hiring a female stable hand once – didn’t work out

Every time he befriended a woman they would invite him to a movie night where they’d pull a ‘naked man’ at the end – at first Daniel just left but after the 3rd time he just started holding small talk after the big reveal

Daniel is scared shitless of Castiel, as he puts it: ‘Which sane person wouldn’t be scared by a dude with a crush on the love of your life who can show up anywhere he wants and can materialize a 20 inch blade out of nowhere!?’

In the end he’s glad that he looks like a straight dude though since he otherwise ‘surely wouldn’t have landed Dean in the first place’

Their Story summarized

As Daniel enjoys his free evening in a bar in Norton, Kansas after a successfully solved case, someone pushes an obviously fake FBI badge into his face and tries to interrogate him – he decides not to arrest him because he’s cute. He finds out his name is Dean Winchester and he plays his game until he lures him through the backdoor of the pub to try to make out – only finding out that he read him all wrong and ‘he doesn’t swing that way’ and for Dean to flee the place.

He could catch up to him as Dean had finished a call in front of the bar though, apologizes profoundly and gives him his number in case he needed to know more about this case.

---

The number stays uncalled for a while until Dean finally calls – for a date though as he had made up his mind (he argued that it was no date but they went to a bar together and talked the whole evening – which gets labeled a date in Daniel’s dictionary)

---

Dean is undecided and insecure for a while, confused about himself and his attraction to Daniel whereas Daniel stays understanding and hopeful as he’s intrigued by Dean’s personality (and by his looks).

---

They get together eventually; after Daniel lost all hope as Dean had fled the place once more after he found out that Daniel’s with the FBI (He won his trust back with the argument that he could’ve arrested him at their first meeting already and by deleting several traces of him and his brother)

---

Their relationship has lots of obstacles.

Daniel tries to help Dean find his real self with a lot of patience and love, never pushing him too far and rather helping him get to his milestones by himself – While Dean makes Daniel question his whole view of the world and tests said patience to the edge and sometimes further.

---

After Sam got out of the cage Dean tried to hide the fact that he’s dating a guy for quite a while, calling him ‘Danielle’ and pretending he’s a women but it comes to light one day and it is – of course – no problem at all.

---

As Daniel gets badly wounded during a mission and Dean had to wait for him to wake up by his hospital bed, Dean finally asked him to marry him.

Daniel always dreamed of a big, pompous wedding but for Dean he settled for a small wedding at the registry office – as Dean at this point is still insecure about showing his sexuality publically. Still, to surprise Daniel who never asked him to do it even, he took Daniel’s name.

Dean wishes for Daniel to stop working for the FBI since the accident and Daniel indeed pushes for his job to be more office heavy – but he’s too good of an agent, therefore he gets forced to keep working by his superiors.

Daniel feels quite similar about Dean’s Hunting which he knew about for quite a while now as Dean confided in him but he’s not in the place to wish for him to quit as he’s unable to quit his job either.

---

As Dean got a call from a hospital one day asking him to pick up his daughter (which turned out to really be his daughter from one of his One Night stands who had passed away that day and put him as emergency contact for their child).

He merrily did so and even though Daniel never wanted children to begin with he accepted it for Dean’s sake – only to be completely head over heels for their daughter after meeting her, just as Dean.

Her name is Ava Emilia.

---

One day, after Daniel had told Dean once more in all detail why he loved him, Dean asked him to marry him again – this time his way: As big and pompous as it could get.

---

They remain a happy little family, living mainly in Daniel’s Main Flat in New York while occasionally visiting his family’s homestead in Wyoming where Dean gets to learn horseback riding and gets to be a cowboy.

The Turner’s keep getting very well along with The Winchesters: Sam and Wanda and their children Tommy and Billy who are also mainly living in NYC. (One day I’ll phrase that out as well…but not this day…not this day…)

Some more Fun Facts – this time regarding their relationship

Daniel trying out several nicknames for Dean but mostly sticking to Babe – he once called Dean Doll and got the clapback ‘Don’t call me that in front of me’ making him burst out laughing to this day

Daniel tries very hard to be the best husband every year – and, according to everyone of their circle, succeeds

Dean and Daniel watch some Pool Show every week and despite Dean disputing it – they both love it very much

Dean sometimes still forgets that he’s well-off now and shops the cheapest of the cheap

Dean and Daniel are often referred to as ‘The council of the angry dudes’ as they have both the most resting angry glaring faces of the whole squad

Ava calls Dean ‘Papa’ and Daniel ‘Daddy’

After Ava became part of the family Dean barely goes hunting anymore and gets a day job in a kindergarten

Dean and Daniel are thinking about getting a dog and name it William – for reasons

If one would ask Dean directly about his sexuality he’d probably still label himself as straight - just like he accidentally keeps ‘homophobing himself’ (making comments as if he’s not in a relationship with a guy himself)

In the end

I want to apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes – and want to remark that there is so so much more to them that I just can’t gather right now…

I hope that I’ll be able to write out their story some day in full and to all it’s glory but for now…this will do.

I hope I could open your heart for Deaniel as well as mine is overflowing <3

Thanks for reading <3

[ladyramora]

Love potion WiP  WoLxMany. WoLxEstinien. WoLxAymeric. WoLxHaurchefant. (Continued, as requested)

Valentione's day: The love potion

Sum: The WoL, alone on valentione's, buys a "love potion " from a mysterious vendor. Harem. WoLxMany. WoLxEstinien. WoLxAymeric. WoLxHaurchefant.

The air is heavy with the smell of cooking foods and the perfume of scented oils. Laughter and chatter from the festivities is a continuous hum of activy.  You stand off to the side, scanning the crowd along with the numerous stalls built up for this very occasion. Inside your inventory bag is a new song scroll, along with a tiny wind-upcherub. 

You feel bored. Already done with the tiny quest given to you. Worst of all, you feel lonely. Watching with a dull ache in your chest as lovers of all kinds indulge in their affections with hearts,candies and kisses. You turn away, of the mind to nurse your loneliness with a cup of something harder than your usual, when you spot a strange vendor off to the side.

 Alchemy? You muse, as you eye the various bottles cluttering the countertop of the unusual stall. A lone figure sits behind the counter, face partially hidden by a hood covering their eyes and the top of their nose.

 "Something catch your fancy, adventurer?" The stranger asks, a knowing smile curving their mouth. Strangely yes, you think. A small bottle of shimmering liquid, catching the light and your eye.

"Oh?" The vendor grins. "This one? Hmm, interesting." You trace a finger over the glass stopper, leaning close to stare at the shifting liquid. "Why is that?" You ask, absentminded as the swirling colors draw you in.

"Well," the vendor chuckles,  "that one only draws in those looking for love, dear adventurer." You blink, looking up from the bottle to stare at the vendor. "Love? Me?"

The vendor smiles, tapping the bottle with a sharp tipped finger. "Indeed. If you seek to find love, all you need do is sip from this bottle. A little goes a long way. "

You frown, turning away to leave. What good could a bottle of mystery liquid do for you?

"Ah, do you intend to leave without your gift?" You turn back, confused. "Gift?"

The vendor holds the bottle out to you, smiling serenely. "But of course, how could I deny the savior of Eorzea something such as this? Even the Warrior of Light deserves love, is that not so?"

You take the bottle, staring down at it resting in your palm.  "Who...?" You look up to ask the vendor their name, but they are gone.

You uncork the bottle. It smells like nothing. You pinch it between your fingers, a small drop of shimmery liquid on your fingertip. You press it to your tongue and a shiver travels down your spine. Nothing else. You frown. "Somehow I feel cheated even though it was free." Still, you pocket the bottle. It was pretty if nothing else.

 - - -

It is not until later that day that you come to understand that you had not, in fact, been cheated.

You're speaking with Alphinaud, sharing the tale of your days apart, when the young elezen suddenly stumbles over his words, looking at you strangely.

 "Are you... Did you do something different?" He asks, inching closer to you. You tilt your head, confused at what he meant. "A new fragrance? You... ah, y-you smell quite nice."  

You blink, sniffing at yourself. ??? You don't smell anything.

Alphinaud seems to become increasingly flustered under your confused staring.

You frown, stepping close to press a hand against his head.

 "Are you feeling alright? You're face is really red. Do you have a fever?"

Alphinaud shakes his head, but does not move away. "I... admit I do feel a little faint. Would you stay with me for a little bit? I think I may need to sit down." You give a thoughtful hum, but do as he asks. Sitting down with him for a little while. 

You think nothing of it as he rests his head against you.  Nothing as he seems to breathe a little heavier. Snuggle closer to you. "Maybe you should go see the healers?" You say, patting at his hair.

 - --

Estinien

At first you think it had been something strange. Alphinaud feeling unwell. But then you have a truly odd interaction with Estinien.

You're taking your lunch in Foundation when Estinien finds you. At first he merely stands while he speaks with you. But then the wind shifts in his direction, and he cuts off mid sentence. 

You blink, looking up from your lunch to find him looking at you oddly. Hungrily. You hold out the container holding your lunch, offering him some. "Did you eat lunch yet? Would you like some of mine?"

Estinien stares, stepping forward and sitting so close that your legs brush. "Did you make it?" Estinien asks, his hands sliding over yours as he takes the container.  You look down at your touching hands, brow furrowing. "Ah... yes, I did."

Estinien hums appreciatively, staring at you instead of the lunch. "I quite enjoyed our last meal together."

You smile hesitantly, "So did I."

Estinien leans closer to you,  staring intently at your face. "What?" You ask, feeling nervous at his proximity. Estinien drags his thumb over the corner of your mouth, - showing you the food on his thumb - and then licking it off. 

You clear your throat, feeling flustered and suddenly awkward.

Estinien makes a low humming in his throat, his eyes half lidded as he looks to you. "Delicious," Estinien says, smirking at you. Leaning in as if...

 A bell tolls in the distance and you shoot up into a standing position. "Is that the time?" You ask, looking around twitchily as you gather up your things. 

You stutter out your parting words to him, backing away like a cornered animal, "I should probably go! A-ah.. you can finish the lunch, I'll talk to you later! Ahh... Good bye!" With that, you make a hasty retreat. What was going on today?

Estinien stares down at the lunch in his lap. It had barely been touched. Then the realization of his actions washes over him. "Ah... What have I done?"

 - - -

You search every ilm of Gridania looking for the vendor. Nothing. They are nowhere to be found. You even search Ul'dah and all of Limsa Lominsa just to be thorough. No one saw them. No one has heard of them. It is almost if they'd never existed in the first place.

But you still have the vial. So they must have been real.

You feel like something is off. Will the effects of the potion wear off? Maybe you need to talk to Aymeric about having his healers examine you.

 - -   When you arrive in Aymeric's office you find that he's not alone. Several lords are standing at his desk, all of them talking at once and over one another.  But Aymeric holds up a hand to silence them as you walk in. 

He stands from his desk, greeting you with a relieved smile. "Gentleman," he says to the other men standing in front of his desk. "I shall attend to your concerns as soon as I am able. Alas, this meeting has run overlong, and as you can see-" he gestures to you, still standing by the door. "-my next appointment has just arrived. I believe you are familiar with the Warrior of Light."

There's a murmuring of several protesting lords at once, but Aymeric again holds up his hand for silence. "You may place your concerns in written form with Handeloup. I will address them promptly once I've had time to look them over. Now, if you would excuse me, I have another meeting."

The lords do not seem pleased to be dismissed so easily. Still, they comply with his prompting, leaving the room one after the other as they give respectful farewells.

You feel sheepish as you are left alone with him. Guilty for interrupting his meeting so rudely.

"Sorry to interrupt," You say, pulling up a chair to sit across from him.

"No, no," Aymeric chuckles, waving your apology off. " 'Tis I who should thank you for such a timely rescue. Truly, that meeting had trudged along for much too long. I am glad to be interrupted. Especially by such a welcome guest," Aymeric smiles, leaning onto his hand. "Now, what has you so concerned, my friend? You seem troubled."

You sigh heavily, leaning forward to press your head against his desk. "I did something foolish. And now I'm at a loss how to fix it." You groan, burying your face in your arms. You twitch with surprise as Aymeric lays a hand on your head. You look up at him,  staring with dismay as he seems less focused than before. 

He looks flushed, just as Alphinaud did. "Not you, too!" 

Aymeric seems to realize what he's doing, dragging his hand away from its stroking atop your head. He stares at his hand as if it had betrayed him.

He leans forward and grabs at your hands as you move to stand. "Wait. Don't go. What is the meaning of this? I... I am unable to control mine own actions. All I know is that I find you incredibly alluring. I cannot stop myself from the desire to touch you." He stares down at where he grasps your hands in his, grimacing as if it pains him as he slowly releases his hold on you. "I am sorry."

You flush guiltily, feeling terrible about this. "No, this is my own fault. I'm so very sorry to cause you such trouble. I.. was given a potion by a vendor on Valentione's day. It was supposed to help me find love," You laugh, shaking your head. "But it was a lie. All it's done is make things worse. Forcing my friends to feel things that aren't real."

Aymeric frowns, cupping his chin in thought as he considers your words. "You misunderstand. I have always found myself drawn to you in this way. My only concern is my lack of control in regards to you."

Your mouth falls open, at a loss of words to say in reply to such a confession. 

"You...?"

Aymeric sighs. "Ah, it seems I've said too much. Yet I cannot stop. I wish to tell you many things. How I admire you. How truly grateful I am to have met you, though it may have been through unfortunate circumstance."

Your face feels warm. Your heart begins to pound. You feel dizzy. Was this really happening? If he had always felt this way, then... Estinien as well?

It wasn't a love potion. It was something more. Revealing the hidden truths that you had been too blind to see.

"Then.. Estinien wasn't acting weird?" You muse aloud, caught off guard when 

Aymeric outright laughs.

"Oh dear. Yes, yes. Estinien has been smitten with you from the start. He's quite hard to read, but I have known him for quite some time."

You stare at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "This doesn't ...bother you?"

Aymeric smiles at you, eyes heavy lidded and smoldering in their intensity. "Why would it? Estinien and myself have shared many things. We were lovers, you know."

You choke on air, mind whirring with that information. Unbidden thoughts of the both of them naked together fills your mind. Your face flushing all the hotter with it. And then you imagine yourself in between them.

"I... I have to go!" You stutter, jerking from your seat and staggering towards the door.

You rush through the door before he can stop you. You avoid Lucia and Handeloup as you burst through the door. You don't want to chance that someone else would confess unknown feelings for you.

But if you were honest with yourself, how blind had you really been? It had been in front of your face the whole time. You had simply chosen to overlook it.

You pull the potion from your pocket, staring down at it with a frown. You're seriously tempted to chuck it into the abyss. All it seemed to be doing was causing trouble. But...

You tighten your grip around the bottle. Shoving it back in your pocket with a sigh of disgust directed at yourself. You have one more person you need to see before you do away with it.

O.o.O

Haurchefant is... completely normal. Well, normal for him. He was rather strange by regular standards.

But he doesn't seem affected at all...

Not like your other friends had been. He speaks with you like he always has. With unrestrained excitement and warmth. He's undoubtedly pleased to see you. Just... not in the way you expected. You try to convince yourself you're not disappointed. 

You curl a hand around the potion in your pocket. Considering something foolish, surely. You excuse yourself for a moment, stepping outside into the frosty coerthan air.

You take a deep breath. Questioning your decision even as you pull the bottle from the confines of your pocket.

You stare at it. A little goes a long way. That's what the vendor had said. And now you're taking more.

You uncork it, tipping the bottle until another drop settles on your finger. This one twice as big as the last. You press your finger to your tongue, feeling guilty. The shiver that wracks you is stronger than the last time. You feel almost tingly. You really hope this has no long term side effects.

Haurchefant is signing paperwork just as he was when you left him. He doesn't look up until your chair scrapes against the floor as you settle into it. He glances up to smile at you. You return it with an anxious smile of your own. Is it working?

At first you think it isn't. Haurchefant continues on with signing documents. But then you shift forward to lean against his desk; and he pauses. He furrows his brow, taking a deep breath as if he smelt something odd. He looks up at you, pupils blowing so wide that you could barely see the blue.

"I..." His voice cracks. He clears his throat, shaking his head. "Something is different than before." He says, resting a hand against his forehead where sweat had broken out. His face steadily flushing until his cheeks were bright red. He looks almost drunk. The vial feels heavy in your pocket. What were you doing?

He frowns. "I feel... compelled. To do things." He stands abruptly from his chair, the wood scraping against the stone floor as he makes his way around his desk.

You feel suddenly nervous as he circles around you in the familiar way he had done before. Eyes dragging over you as he swaggers out from behind his desk. Only this time looking at you like he wanted to ravish you this very second. To drag you onto his desk and have his wicked way with you.

"You've done something, though I know not what," He purrs with a  smile, catching on quick just like Aymeric did. "But it is something quite naughty, I think. You see, I cannot stop my impulses."

He stops just in front of your chair, pushing it back so he can perch on his desk to look down at you. He spreads his legs wide, leaning back on his desk. "Oh, dear." He sighs, hooking his ankles behind the feet of your chair and dragging you closer to him.

 You clutch at your armrests with anxiety, gasping out a soundless huff as Haurchefant practically pulls you into his lap. Then grunting in shock as he sits on you, your hands jerking up to rest against his back to steady him. 

"Mmm, how clumsy am I, I seem to have fallen into your lap!" Haurchefant says with dramatic flair, touching the back of his wrist to his head like a swooning maiden.

He laughs brightly, a hysterical giggle that has you regretting your earlier action. What had you done?

Haurchefant leans in, caging you in with his arms resting on the back of your chair. "Well, well. What have we here?" He simpers with fluttering eyelashes , his face close to yours. You swallow hard, flushing as his eyes flick down to stare at your lips.

"My dear, lovely friend," Haurchefant sighs, carressing your face with his gloved hand. You close your eyes, feeling guilty as you lean into his touch greedily.

 Haurchefant's thumb presses into the flesh of your lower lip, voice breathy as he leans in so close. "You're so very flushed." You whine low in your throat as you feel his breath on your face. He smells sweet like cocoa.

Kiss me, kiss me, you silently plead, even as your stomach twists with guilty knots. You're cheating this way, using the potion to force his feelings out of him. This wasn't fair to him.

It wasn't fair to any of them.

Still, as Haurchefant cups your face in his hands you let him. As he leans close - you let him. As his lips touch yours for the first time, you allow it to happen.

A conflicted moan builds in your throat. Hands spasming against Haurchefant's back as he engages you in the most intense kiss you had the chance to experience.

His thumbs stroke along your jaw, head twisting as he kisses you firmly. His fingers move to cradle the back of your head, he sighs against your mouth. You clutch at him desperately, groaning low in your throat. Your lips part to his persistent tongue. 

His mouth is hot, sweet with the lingering taste of cocoa. You chase the taste of it, surging against him as you take control. Well, if you were going to Hell for this, you might as well enjoy it.

Haurchefant makes a sound of delight as you push against him, laughing into your kiss as you give him all you've got in terms of kissing. His laugh turning into sighs, then into hitching moans under your ministrations.

 This is going too far, you realize. You should not have done this. You're losing control. Becoming lost in the sensations of him.

"Ahem!" Someone clears their throat roughly. You both startle, tearing your mouths away from each other.

Corentiaux stares at the both of you, brows furrowed with a disapproving frown. "My lord Haurchefant, this is not the place for such things!"

Haurchefant groans, tightening his hold on you. "Leave me be, Corentiaux! I've waited for this moment for a veritable eternity!" He grumbles, leaning in to kiss at your neck.

You feel yourself blush in embarrassment, hiding your face against Haurchefant as he sucks a mark into your skin.

Corentiaux clucks his tongue, shaking his head. "Be that as it may, you cannot continue this... this scandalous behavior! You're knights are watching, my lord! There's bound to be talk around the Camp at this rate! Rumors are wont to spread!"

You jolt up in surprise as Haurchefant blows a raspberry into your neck, mumbling something unintelligible into your skin.

Corentiaux frowns. "What was that?"

"I will not!" Haurchefant declares, frowning heavily at the younger knight. He curls his arms possessively around you, "I have been given a glorious gift, and I'll not have to spoil it with talk of propriety!"