#most definitely without the knowledge or consent of the girl in question

[haunted-xander]

...I don't like the implications here

[mistressemmedi]

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.

The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas

After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano

From rags to riches - what a story

It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria

The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre

Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano

Against panic - The stage as therapy

I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria

This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano

Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)

Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano

The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it

After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan

Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom

We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria

Sexism - A culture to be dismantled

Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano

To grow as a person - The only rule to follow

For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan

“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria

Love - music and girlfriends

I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan

Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas

When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria

I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano

The value of the group - Protecting each other

But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas

Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)

Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano

Reached the sky - What fears still remain

We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano

(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)

[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).

Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]

[sootandco]

blush ; wilbur soot

pronouns: she/her summary: y/n goes on another one of her nerdy tangents during a stream and wilbur listens to every single word, well, sorta. requested: yes tw: one swear word maybe??? wc: 0.7k

"and we're live!" wilbur clapped his hands together as the chat began to excitedly greet him. "and of course, what would a stream be without my wonderful girlfriend, y/n!"

y/n was a fan favourite, there was no denying that. the second the stream met her months back, they fell in love with the nerdy girl, what can i say, she taught them more than school ever did, and y/n took pride in being their source of knowledge.

"hi hi!" she smiled, waving at the camera, wilbur chuckling at her enthusiasm, with y/n, there was never a dull moment.

"you know the drill, chat! you laugh... you lose." wilbur leaned back in his chair, glancing at y/n ever so quickly. "media share's on, let the videos roll."

y/n leaned forward in anticipation, awaiting the first video, which was the classic 'objects i've shoved up my arse', making will roll his eyes and immediately skip it, "rule number eight, chat! no videos we've seen before, and especially that!"

a brief moment of silence went by as the next clip played, and they instantly recognised it.

y/n stayed silent during the 'cheeto' video, as wilbur stifled a laugh, "how do you find that funny?!"

"the question is, how do you not find that funny?!" wilbur laughed as y/n gave him a knowing look. "that doesn't count! no, n-no, chat, stop. no. fine, fi- i lost a life, i still have another."

"i don't think that's how it works-" y/n began as wilbur places his hand over her mouth.

"my stream, my rules." y/n removes wilbur's hand from her mouth.

"you're such an idiot, i swear." y/n crossed her arms and scoffed at her boyfriend.

"yeah, but i'm your idiot." wilbur's cheeks flushed over the statement he made as he glanced up at the chat. they were already calling him a simp. "chat! listen here! stop calling me a simp!" wilbur turned redder as he read each comment. "it may be true, but there's no need to point it out, okay?! i have consent to simp."

"did you know that humans are the only animals that blush?" y/n took notice to his blush as wilbur turned to y/n, ready for another rant. "i know it sounds obvious, but it's true! ya know charles darwin, right? yeah, cool. well, he referred to blushing as "the most peculiar and most human of all expressions," as mark twain said, "man is the only animal that blushes. or needs to." it's fascinating really, chat, you should look into it!"

wilbur was only half paying attention, he mostly just admiring y/n, taking her presence in. y/n snapped her fingers in front of will's face snapping him out of his daze. "gosh, wilbur, are you even listening? at least chat is. thanks chat, i appreciate you guys." y/n gave the camera a cheeky wink, leaning closer to wilbur subconsciously.

wilbur and y/n read the chat together, smiling at some of the comments.

damn, y/n is the definition of big brain

y/n, pls be my tutor

if y/n ruled the world, it would be such a better place

god they make me feel so single-

mr and mrs soot right here

wilbur was so glad that his fans were accepting of his girlfriend. he admits, he was quite scared of introducing her to the stream since she was quite an intense person, but his fans adored her and he even attracted more viewers which was a bonus. they loved y/n, maybe even more than they loved wilbur (and that's saying something).

"okay, okay, lets move on and watch the next video, and i will not laugh!"

"debatable-"

"hush, my little nerd."

"well, did you know the term nerd started back in-"

[midnightmoonkiss]

Esoteric.

Witch!Izuku Midoriya X Fem!Reader

Summary: What was a witch, exactly? Someone who casts spells? Dabbled in medicine? Fought in battles? You didn’t know. That was, until you met one.

WARNINGS!: Soft!Dom!Izuku, Face-sitting, Fingering, Potion-play

Category: Smut

Word Count: 7.3k (more than half is like.. pure smut..)

A/N: The final day of the Izumonth Collab!

P.S. I really love Witch!Izuku, idk if you can tell,,, Also, I made the witch!collage above! ‘Tis just to suck you into the mood. And sorry this was.. a bit late.. heheh,,,

Just To Clarify:

You’re both consenting adults

Witches, though actually fairly rare, are seen as common beings

Witches aren’t human

Fantasy-ish au!

Tag List:

@coupsieddori​ @desia2​ @strwbrry-lia​ @my-bnha-things​

Every castle has a witch.

It’s been that way for as long as you, or anyone else, could remember.

It was normal.

Mundane to some.

Just something you’d hear about time and time again.

They were workers, just like you. 

But yet, that never stopped your sense of wonder.

They never were in plain sight, not for a peasant such as yourself, anyway.

It always brought up so many questions whenever you’d stop to think about it. 

What did they look like?

Were they nice, or wicked?

How did their magic work?

What did they wear?

Depending on the kingdom, most witches were treated like royalty, especially those who worked in castles.

Of course, how could someone so powerful not have such a title?

It made you question if it was given out of fear, or respect.

It wasn’t until you met the witch of Thidel castle, the ever-so-generous Izuku Midoriya, that your questions were all willingly answered.

You truly weren’t anticipating meeting him during such a catastrophe of a day. Looking back, it was quite embarrassing.

You were the baker’s assistant, tasked with making the batter to elaborate sweets for the King’s ball that evening.

The flour was freshly ground from the mill, the vanilla was as pure as a white daisy, the sugar ever-so-sweet, eggs fetched that morning, everything was perfect.

In fact, everything was running all nice and smoothly, until the King decided to ask for triple the amount of baked goods he had originally requested.

Not only did that mean running to town and back in shoes already falling apart, but that also meant stirring and stirring and stirring until it felt as if your arms were on fire and about to melt off.

You were covered in ingredients and sweat, the other bakers and assistants were running around, spilling things on each other, and making large messes as they pulled their hair out to get everything done on time.

It was chaos.

And that’s when he showed up.

You forgot what he was originally there for, herbs, perhaps?

Batter smudged on your cheek, you were carrying a large sack of flour to the mixing station when the door opened.

You slipped comedically on an egg that had fallen on the floor, and of course, you had to slam into this sudden brick wall of a man.

White powder flew everywhere, and the clock stopped in your head as you watched in horror as the last bag of flour you had was just about to spill all over the dirty cobblestone.

That’s when you saw it for the first time.

Magic.

He had simply flicked his wrist and all of the flour was back in its bag, and such a high ranking individual was on his knees, sputtering apologies to you.

To you, of all people.

A lowly peasant.

It felt unreal.

But that was how you met him.

He looked up and the first image he had of you forever imprinted in his head was wild (H/C) hair coated in sweat and flour, cheeks smudged with chocolate and dried batter, eyes wide with panic, and cheeks a burning red.

He never let you live it down, the bastard.

That night at the ball, you met him again. He had the gall to note how you cleaned up fast, all while sheepishly smiling at you like you were the only girl in the room.

You wanted to punch him at the time. Or die of embarrassment. He was still the witch after all, and never before had someone so high class spoken to you before. You were filled with so many emotions that night, you were sure you were going to throw up.

Instead, you smiled, offered him a pastry, and walked away.

He just had to follow you, though.

His reason being, “I was looking for some entertainment at such a boring event.”

It had made you laugh, as IF you were any entertainment. From then on, though, after having spent an entire night chatting the time away, he was as hooked on you as you were with him.

Nowadays, you got to frequent his studies often.

A privilege not many had, as apparently- witches were quite stubborn with letting people into their sanctuary and touching their things.

Perhaps it was a possessive trait of theirs, one that kept them from misplacing important potions, books, and ingredients, but nevertheless you were absolutely honored to be allowed somewhere so.. otherworldly.

The King and his youngest son were the only ones besides yourself allowed in.

But stepping inside would always be a slap to the face, no matter how many times you actually did enter.

It wasn’t exactly clear to you how he did it, or how the witch before him did it, but the small study tucked away on the east wing of the castle wasn’t a small study at all.

The old, heavy brown door was signed with words of a language unknown to you and others, the hinges creaking ever so slightly as you pulled it open, only to be met with a two-story home inside.

Your nose was always immediately hit with the earthy scent of rain and plants, no doubt from the plethora of the heavenly greens hanging about the place, glowing orbs of light hovering near the ones doomed to never touch true sunlight.

The place was cluttered yet neat, parchments piling up in one corner, yet another where they laid organized.

It was almost like a different world crafted by steady and loving hands.

Old maps were tacked to one of the walls, scribbled writing and red circles pointing out certain areas of the land beyond the one you knew.

Witches apparently had their own realm, or at least, “a pocket of Earth hidden away from humans by magic”, as Izuku had thoughtfully explained one night as a thunderstorm raged on outside.

Old books smelling of age are scattered about, the large bookshelf barely able to contain them all.

Candles lit by a green flame surround a large wooden table, herbs such as chamomile, ginger, ginseng, valerian, lavender, and saffron are neatly placed by a bowl, wrapped in bundles. Clearly, he was going to try and make some more anti-depressant mixture for the prince again.

He was more of a naturalist when it came to the sick, unless worse came to worse.

He was essentially a glorified doctor who was far more knowledgeable on plants rather than bone structure and types of sickness.

He was a sweetheart who helped all he could.

Hell, he was even taken to some battles as a last defense.

Despite looking so innocent, with his baby fat still hugging his cheeks and freckles splattered all about, the definition of youth, he was quite powerful.

Scarily so.

You had heard hushed whispers from fellow servants about how he had taken down armies alone multiple times before, coming back with nothing but burns and a broken bone or two.

He was terrifying to those who didnt take a mere second to glance at him.

But those who did were greeted with nothing but a warm smile and the fleeting wave of a busy man.

It was a mystery how you had managed to capture his undivided attention, enough so that he had made you his, the plain-looking bracelet made from leather string holding an emerald sealed with magic signifying that.

You were untouchable.

Once gutted with fear, you walked the polished grounds of the castle freely.

After all, not even a King would so much as dare to harm witches beloved, lest he wanted to be burned alive by immortal flames and sent to the ninth level of hell.

A level solely made by strong users of the past, the ones who carved the road for witchery, having bent time itself to do so.

Truly terrifying how powerful they could be, but yet it was so mystifying.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t spent nights wide awake listening to him ramble about their history, about how they came to be and how they flourished.

They didn’t start off as human-like creatures, they started off as a ball of magical light in a land filled with nothing.

It was said that witches built the Earth from the ground up until greed overtook the lands and the humans overpopulated them.

And yet, they work harmoniously together.

Humans fearful of their power, and witches just naturally seeking to help people and continue their craft in harmony with all those who share the lands they grew from scratch.

 It truly was a peaceful existence they led, you couldn’t help but admire it.

Just like you always have.

Pulling the door shut, it locked behind you as you stepped over some paper with doodles, knowing better than to mess with his disorganized things without him in the room to see it.

Speaking of, you were asked here this evening, something about wanting to try out a new potion he had made.

He was always making new things, an inventor of sorts, but never one to have you as a test subject.

Of course, it piqued your curiosity and had you quickly cleaning up the mess you had made in the kitchen when the day was officially over just to get here as fast as you could.

The large window covered in vines holding a small couch beneath it glistened with the light of a crescent moon, casting the room lit with an array of colors in a cool glow.

Smoke from the candles blurred the light, only to collide with the wooden floor above them.

Humming, you grabbed an orb sitting on a side table,  holding it in the moonbeams so it would absorb its brightness. A candlestick of sorts made from magic. You weren’t going to risk going into complete darkness again.

He was obviously not in his work area, so he was probably upstairs.

And so, as quietly as you could, you crept up the old stairs, holding your breath and biting your lip whenever you came to a creaky step. You wanted to scare him, or at the very least surprise him

He was so easy to scare, and he always made the cutest of noises when you did it.

It was hard not to try everytime you were given the chance.

Once you made it to the top, fingers clasped tightly around the carved wooden railing, you looked around the darkened hallway, searching for the room he’s most likely to be in.

None of them had any lights on, which was eerily odd.

He never was much a fan of complete darkness.

It only raised questions as to if he wasn’t here yet, or if he was leaving you high and dry.

No, he would never do such a thing. Perhaps you’re early?

Chewing on your thumbnail, you stood dead at the top of the stairs, waiting for a sign that he was here.

“BOO!” 

“ARGGHH!” you shrieked, jumping away from the noise only to have your back slammed against the wall.

Horrified, you snapped your head to the direction of the noise, only to find a giddy Izuku covering his mouth with a leather-gloved hand, holding away his giggles.

Huffing, you placed a hand on your heart, ignoring the laughs that seeped out of him.

“Geeze, you scared me!” You chided, glaring up into his playful green eyes.

“Oh, like you weren’t trying to do the same to me just now.”

Laughing still, he bent down in front of you, offering you a hand to help you up.

Ever the gentleman.

Placing your palm into his own, he easily pulled you up to your feet, holding you against his muscular chest in a welcoming hug, to which you eagerly returned, arms wrapping around his slender waist.

Though you didn’t know the common body type of a witch, you had to admit, he was certainly buff. Not that you minded.

He could easily throw you over his broad shoulder, and you loved it.

Completely defenseless and vulnerable.

Oh, how sweet it was to trust fully in someone.

His foreign clothes were soaked in his familiar thick scent, the smell of the forest after it had just rained, dewdrops in the early morning sun, a hint of pine, and his own natural musk that always had your head spinning. He tends to travel the forests in the kingdom often, collecting natural herbs and stones he found interesting.

He had jars and jars of rocks and stones, sometimes cracking them open to reveal crystals tucked away inside. He’d always make little trinkets out of them, giving them to people he deemed as friends as a sign of gratitude. You only had one, made from the rarest crystal he had ever found, taaffeite. 

“So, why did you need me?” You mumbled against his chest, cheek rubbing against his familiar warmth.

“Firstly, I always need you.” The sap.

“Mhmm..” you hummed out, letting him pull away and grab your hand, taking the glowing orb and tossing it up and down as he led you down the corridor.

“Secondly,” he trailed off, leaving the orb to float in the air as he unlocked his bedroom door, pulling you inside.

“It’s a bit of a personal thing I can only trust you with testing.”

Smiling to yourself, you sat down on the edge of his large bed, running your fingers over the soft wool that made up his thick comforter.

Never one to use dead animal pelts.

“Is that so?” Your eyes naturally follow his being as he walks around the room, shuffling through different materials before snapping his fingers to light the stone fireplace off on the other side of the room, providing more light, as well as warmth, so he could see where he was going and not trip on the books scattered across the floor.

He didn’t like the windows in his bedroom open at night.

“Y-yes..” he stuttered, fumbling around with a few glass jars on his desk, muttering to himself as he examines the label on each one. Seemingly finding what he was looking for, he turned back to you, proudly showing that he had found it before making his way back to the bed.

“What is that for?” Curious, your fingers brushed against the cool glass containing the shimmering magenta liquid as he sat beside you on the bed, mattress dipping enough from his weight that your sides knocked together.

“A few weeks ago, Shōto had asked a familiar question, if I possessed the ability to make every potion out there. Of course I- I can’t exactly, but I’ve enough skill to make some rather.. exotic potions. He questioned if I ever tried something different than just potions to heal the sick or offer beauty, and I haven’t. I don’t know why, but realizing that upset me. As if my skill set was limited to just some average joe healer,”

“Izuku..”

“So for a while now, I’ve been branching out. Trying different types of potions and having him as the tester.”

“Is that why he’s been acting different these days?”

“Precisely. I’m just lucky I haven’t gotten in trouble for turning him into a frog yet..” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his head as you took the glass from him to ogle it.

“So what is this then?”

“Um..” Embarrassment was creeping up his neck and resting on his cheeks as he averted his shy eyes, “I have a hunch of what it might do. But.. secret?”

You pout at him, “Shouldn’t I know what this is?”

“You’ll know soon! I promise it won’t harm you, darling.” Leaning down, he pecks a kiss on your cheek, large arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into a side hug.

Taking the glass from your hands, he pulled the cork out, glittery, pink mist floating out like smoke from a blown-out candle.

“So, what do you say? Will you try it?” It was almost as if he was giving you no option other than yes with those big puppy eyes of his staring into your soul.

Licking your lips, an action his eyes followed, you gulped the nervousness away.

What had you to fear? This was Izuku after all. Had he ever done you harm? Absolutely not.

You had no reason not to trust the man who held your heart.

“Alright.”

Joy lit up his face, smiling so widely his eyes crinkled.

Huffing out a laugh, you took the bottle from him again, curiously sniffing its fragrance.

“Chocolate and.. maca?” The scent was certainly familiarly tasty, having worked with the foods before, being a baker. Judging how the liquid didn’t resemble them at all, it was off-putting. How had he managed to trap such a delicate smell inside?

“Mhm! That’s right! Apparently, when made, the potion takes on a heavenly smell. Most are usually bitter.”

“Ahh..” Trailing off you eyed it up one last time before finally bringing it to your lips, a shiver running down your spine at just how cold the glass still was, despite being in a warm room.

Tilting the glass up, the liquid glimmering in the light of the fire traveled down the shoot, pouring into your awaiting mouth, feeling as if you were swallowing a runny syrup.

It had the slightest hint of sugar and cinnamon to its flavor, but nothing else. How odd.

Gulping it all down just to get it over with, your eyes that unknowingly closed fluttered open as he pulled the glass away.

Feeling perfectly fine, you stared up at him with confusion, about to speak before his lips cut you off, tongue poking out to lick the renaming liquid from the corner of your mouth.

The clink of the bottle being set down echoed around the room before his gloved palm delicately cupped your cheek, tilting your head as to deepen the kiss.

His tongue eagerly explored the wet cavern of your mouth, as if he was drinking the little essence from his own creation left over.

Pulling away with a wet pop, his forehead rested against yours, mesmerizing green eyes staring softly into your own, waiting.

Waiting for what was what you didn’t know, perhaps for the potion to take effect.

You were eager to find out just what it was, but you had a semblance of a guess considering the position you found yourself in.

“How do you feel?” he whispered breathlessly against your parted lips.

Just as you were about to reply, your words got caught in your throat as your body began to heat up in a familiar way.

“I..” You pant, grip on his cotton shirt tightening as your gut suddenly twisted with a burning need for HIM.

Your (E/C) eyes glaze over with lust in front of his own, pupils dilating as your body began to shake, whimpers escaping your throat.

Thighs rubbing together to offer friction you didn’t know you desperately craved until now, you looked at him helplessly, so close to falling apart if it weren’t for his large hand on the small of your back holding you close to his steady figure.

“I-I feel hot.. Izuku..”

You whined, chewing at your lip as you wiggled beneath his excited stare.

“Good.”

Suddenly, his lips connected with yours once more, drawing a stuttered moan from your throat at the contact you unknowingly began to crave more and more as your lips connected again and again.

You clung to him like a koala, kissing him fervently like you would never be able to again, desperate to have his undivided attention.

Hands sliding to your hips, he pulled you onto his lap, legs hugging his own as hot breaths mingled together with the wet sound of kisses.

“Ah..!” You squeaked against him, your hips involuntarily grinding down onto his crotch, greedily searching for the pleasure your body desperately craved.

“M-mmm.. Izu.. I-” Your apology was cut off with a nip to your neck, “Don’t apologize,” he scolded. Grip still on your hips, he pulled you down rougher against his hardening dick, his hips thrusting up to meet your own, eliciting a sharp cry from your being as your head threw back at the sudden pressure where you craved it most.

He was quick to chase your lips, dragging you back into your heated makeout, swallowing every moan you let out as you both humped each other like horny dogs, the eagerness from him only adding to the pool of moisture leaking out of your body.

The button on his trousers was rubbing deliciously against your clothed clit, making your hips stutter every so often as you fought to maintain that hard surface.

Saliva began to drip down the side of your mouth from the intense kissing, but you hadn’t a care in the world.

No, your mind was too fogged to even think about it.

All you craved was him.

Him.

Him.

You yearned for him like he’d been gone a decade, and your body acted on it in a way you were typically shy about.

Biting your lip, he pulled away from the kiss, dragging a whine of protest from you before he hushes you by licking the outer shell of your ear, breath fanning across it only adding to the tingles of excitement shooting down your arched spine. “Hush,” he commanded, and as if you couldn’t disobey him, your words of protest died on your tongue, leaving only a parted mouth and heavy breaths.

Licking down the column of your neck, nose brushing against you, he searched for that familiar sweet spot on you, teeth grazing your flesh.

Still grinding on his hard cock covered by pants, a wet spot no doubt leaking past the underwear you wore beneath your hiked up skirt and onto him, you gasp once he found the place he was looking for.

Smirking, he nibble gently, holding you still as you began to wiggle once more.

Your head tilted to the side to give him more room as he sucked on your skin, teeth repeatedly nibbling at your sensitive flesh. Biting down harshly, you cried out with pain and pleasure, hips grinding down so hard onto him he groaned, the vibration making your heart jump in your throat.

“A-ahh… hnng.!” Moans poured salaciously past your thoroughly kissed lips, holding onto him for dear life as he controlled your being with every fiber of his own.

A button on your blouse popped open, and your foggy gaze traveled down just to see his fingers expertly undoing each one without looking, letting your bare breasts bounce out above your corset.

Not giving you a second to cover yourself out of embarrassment, his large hand cupped one of your tits, massaging it gently just to feel the soft flesh as your chin rested against his grounding shoulder, small moans now directly in his awaiting ear.

“You’re such a good girl, (Y/N).” He praised, eyes filled with nothing but love as he got to watch your unusually heated body search for the pleasure it craved.

You were usually so shy in bed, but with this potion pumping through your veins, he hoped it’d help give you the confidence boost you needed.

Though, that wasn’t the only thing it did.

He was filled with anticipation, if his throbbing member was anything to go by.

Thumb circling around your cute, perky nipple, he took the bud between his thumb and forefinger, pulling gently and rolling it between them, dragging high pitched whines from you.

You couldn’t help but pull away from him again, body constantly shifting from the delicious pleasure you were being given.

Fully pulling your blouse off, he left your chest completely bare, giving him the chance to dip his head down and latch onto the opposite nipple, lathering it in attention with his warm muscle, sucking softly and continuously rolling your other nipple with his hand.

It left you craving more, fingers threading through his messy green curls, pulling as to not lose yourself, only eliciting yet another deep groan that vibrated on your skin.

Feeling yourself slowly start to come undone, you desperately ground against him, pants becoming high pitched and moans being louder.

He could tell you were getting close, and from grinding alone no less, it made him feel so damn good to know he could get you to come purely from grinding.

But he didn’t want you to cum like this.

Certainly not.

And so, he fell back on his back dragging you with him as his lips found yours again.

Gripping at the hem of your skirt, he yanked it down, pulling it off your legs. Using a little handy magic, he effortlessly pulled your own shoes off, already working your underwear down your quivering thighs, eyes zeroed in on the drip of wetness attaching your core to them for a split second before they were across the other side of the room.

Corsets were always his worst nightmare.

He couldnt think too clearly to untie the knot in the back as your now bare crotch rubbed against his own, so without thinking, he ripped it off, the bare display of strength having you keening against him.

“Princess,” he whispered against your lips, dragging your hips upwards, “please, sit on my face.”

How vulgar of him to say, with a smile no less, but nonetheless it scent a throb of want to your stomach, and you found yourself, once again, unable to disobey him.

Your body burned red from embarrassment as you crawled up his own still fully clothed one, but you weren’t given the chance to dwell on it before he moved your hips directly over his face, tongue poking out to lap at your dripping folds.

“Gaah..!” You cried, fingers digging into the blanket beneath him as your hips once again helplessly sought the pleasure you craved, unafraid to press down against him.

Your juices tasted so sweet, he eagerly lapped at you like a dog deprived of water.

He had to hold you still against his face, drinking in the image of your breasts jiggling like jelly with every shuttered breath you took, head flung back and eyes shut tight as you focused purely on the way the flat of his tongue licked you up like a sugary treat.

He couldn’t help but occasionally press a kiss against your sobbing flesh, teasingly avoiding your clit begging for attention each time you moved against his mouth.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room, only sending his mind into a state of hunger, wanting to drag every noise out of you he could, along with the loud licking that caused your essence to drip down his chin.

His aching cock was straining against the flimsy button of his pants, desperate to be released and buried deep inside your soul-sucking pussy again.

Tongue dipping inside you and lips pressing against your sensitive, pink labia, he ate you out with earnest, squeezing your hips tightly with his fingers as he fought to control himself from shoving you to the blankets and fucking you raw without finishing his dessert first.

A choked sob tore from your throat with his lips finally encased your puffy clit, the tip of his tongue tracing around the bundle of nerves before flattening his tongue against it.

Your hips bucked involuntarily against his face, pressing him harder against you just so you could cry out his name like a sinful prayer.

His heart was full of love for you as he observed your reaction did everything blissful he did.

You were in heaven, walking on clouds as wet squelches from your own body surrounded your ears.

“Z-Zuku..!” You cried as he sucked on your clit like candy, enjoying the rough treatment. The tip of his tongue traced his name possessively over your button, marking you as his forevermore, silently vowing to never let another man do the same.

“I-I’m close..!” You cried, tears of pleasure falling down your flushed cheeks, dripping onto the thighs squeezing his head like warm earmuffs.

He hummed against you, dragging his tongue across the expanse of your womanhood before enclosing around your clit again, lathering it in the attention you needed to be pulled over the edge.

Your thighs clenched around his head, his hair tickling you, body stilling as you screamed out in pleasure, back arching and giving him a lovely view of your demise.

You came on his tongue, the stimulation he gave you throughout your orgasm sending you higher and higher in that clouded head of yours.

When you finally came down and slumped forward, catching your breath, he licked up the mess you made, pulling away from your lower lips and running a tongue over his own to greedily savor your delectable taste.

Placing you off to the side, giving you a second to calm down,, he hurriedly shuffled out of his clothing, throwing his cloak, gloves, and various other things on his person to the floor, kicking his boots off that landed with a heavy thump, leaving his underwear on as he crawled over on top of you.

Dazed, you stared deliriously up at him, a bashful smile on your lips, watching as he wipes your juices away with the back of his wrist before licking it clean. He was so sinful and messy.

The warm fire crackling in the corner hugged at his soft skin, making his eyes blown wide with lost twinkle like starlight. He looked so in love as he stared at you as if you were the only person in the world.

Breathing heavily, you reached out for him, and he was happy to lean in so you could wrap your arms around his neck, toying with the shorter curls at his nape as he kissed you again, your taste still on his tongue as your tongues intertwined. You weakly fought against his intrusion, teasing, only for him to grab a handful of your ass, making you gasp and effectively losing the battle.

He flooded your being with everything he had, his scent, his love, his passion, adoration, everything.

His knowledge on your own sexual human anatomy astounded you, but always left you moaning against him, much to his utter pleasure.

His thumb circled your twitching clit, bringing your attention back to his actions and the way you clenched helplessly around thin air, waiting for him.

You hungrily eyed the bulge in his underwear, licking your lips at the spot of wetness where his dripping head was.

You wanted to feel him inside you again, to clench around the very thing that drove you insane other than his skillful touch.

“P-please..” You begged, detaching yourself from him, pleading for mercy under his sharp gaze as he soaked up your wrecked self.

He loved hearing you beg.

“Please what?” he drawled out, running his lips down the side of your face and neck, pressing kisses against your collarbone. Moving his thumb previously giving you what you desire to your thighs, he held them in his grasp just to feel your smooth, warm skin against his rough, scarred palms.

You whined, shimmying your hips to draw his attention to them. He ignored your advances, peering up at your face with a glare and crooked smile that shot sparks down your body, “Tell me.” 

As if on cue, and unable to disobey his words that squeezed your heart, you sputtered a response, barely able to maintain eye contact, “P-please touch me..! M-more.. I, I need more, please! I want..” your breath was stolen from your lungs as he began to grind his clothed crotch against your wet core, “I want you! I w-want you to fuck me, please..! I- I can’t take it anymore.. Please, Izuku..!” More tears fell from your eyes, falling onto the mattress below you, “Please fuck me..!”

Happy with your response,  but still not quite ready to give in, he pulled away, circling your clenching hole with his middle finger, watching as your head flew back with tears as you meekly thrust upwards.

As much as he wanted to pull himself out right now and fuck you until his bed broke from the sheer force, he couldn’t risk hurting you.

Even if the potion was designed to make you ready for everything sexual, willing to comply with his every demand, you still were his princess, his angel, and he was going to treat you like one.

He didn't want you to wake with the soreness of not being properly prepared, even if he could heal you a minute after. That minute of you crying from the pain that HE selfishly caused would always be stabbed into his heart, and he certainly didn't want that, nor you to experience it.

“Sorry, love..” he apologized, finally plunging his thick finger inside you after thoroughly coating it with your slick, moaning at how tight you were for him. 

“Fuck..” he whispered under his breath, keeping your thighs splayed wide open as he sat back on his haunches to watch you react to him.

Your back was arched, begging for more as you gripped the sheets below you, cheek pressed against the mattress as low moans trickled out your sinful mouth like water.

Face hot, a boyish smile fell on his face as he added another finger, observing how you hotly throw your head back as he pressed against the spongy spot inside your walls.

“Aaahh..! T-there! R-right there..!”

“I know, darling, shh, shhh.” He cooed at you, curling his fingers against your G-spot with each thrust in and out of your sopping pussy. His fingers made wet clicks inside of you as they rubbed against your walls, dragging more and more moans out of you as you ground down on his large digits.

His eyes couldn’t leave the view of you sucking him back in every time he pulled his fingers out, it left him imagining more and more scenarios in his head.

God, how he wanted to destroy you.

Have you screaming his name so loudly you broke the sound barrier he had set up ages ago, letting all of the castle and its snobby guards know he was fucking the love of his life and doing it damn well.

He bet they would be jealous.

Those thoughts of it made his adrenaline spike, adding a third finger to the squelching party mixing your insides up, leaving you at their utter disposal.

Arousal poured from you like a steady stream, gushing down and leaving a wet puddle under your ass.

You were so wet for him it was hard to bear, but you felt so, so good.

Your mind was so muddled with lust, you couldn’t think straight, all that entered your mind was ‘more, more, more.’ 

You were being greedy, but you couldn’t help it.

Deciding you were prepped enough, his fingers pulled fully out of you, putting on a small display of licking them clean as you watched with wide, doe eyes, stuttering out about how dirty that was.

“More dirty than you using my face as a seat, my lady?” He teased, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

“T-thats..”

He chuckles at your flustered response.

Pulling his underwear down, his cock slaps against his toned stomach, fully erect and dripping with precum.

Throwing them off to the side, he noticed the way your eyes greedily looked at his body, confidence burning his veins as he sees the impatience in your eyes as you stare at his member.

He was tempted to say, ‘like what you see?’ but he himself was far too eager and impatient to wait any longer.

Grabbing himself, he ran his thickness between your lips, gathering your arousal on him before leading himself to your entrance.

“Ready?” He asked whilst kissing the skin below your ear.

You nodded, hips wiggling in anticipation.

“A-ahh! Fuck!” You cried out as he fully sheathed himself inside you with one thrust, bottoming out immediately.

He bit at your skin, concealing the deep moan that rumbled in his chest as you strangled his weeping dick at last.

You were so intoxicating, you sweet aroma wafting off you with every breath.

Grinding himself inside of you, he waited patiently for you to adjust, leaving hickeys all over your skin with each passing second.

Gulping down air, you thrust upwards, dragging him out of his blissed-out state just to moan heavenly deeply in your ear.

“Naughty girl..” he seethed, making you giggle, only to be shut up as he pulled out and slammed his hips back into your own, drawing out a garbled moan.

Skin slapped wetly against skin with each rough thrust he relentlessly delivered, drinking up your cries for more.

Leaning back to watch you with hungry, dark green eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. He pinned your arms to the bed above your head, a punishment for catching him off guard.

His cock was truly a godsend, thick and long, curved upwards just to slam repeatedly into your soft g-spot over and over.

You could only hold on for dear life as he fucked you good and hard just like you wanted, just like you craved.

“O-Ohh!!! Izu!! Izuku-! Ahh.! F-fuck..!” You moaned with each thrust inside your wet self, body being pushed back from the sheer intensity of which he fucked you with.

He knew your body so well by now, he knew each and every way to make you fall apart by his own doing.

He knew how to break you in the most sinful way possible, and he loved it.

Your face was lewdly contorted with pleasure, eyes looking back, eyebrows pinched together, (H/C) baby hairs plastered to your sweaty forehead, and mouth gaping wide open so he could hear every slur of words and every noise you emitted.

He wanted to hear everything you had to say, every reaction to the way he fucked you.

He could feel you growing tighter around his throbbing cock, juices coating his thighs with each heavy thrust inside of you.

He loved how much he could turn you on, even if right now it was all thanks to the potion that added pink hearts to your innocent (E/C) eyes.

The same potion that had you openly moaning unashamedly, whereas you previously would have held them in by biting your lip and hands.

He was so happy to hear how good he made you feel.

At long last.

“(Y/N)..” he panted heavily, peering deeply into your glossy eyes, movements becoming more and more sloppy as he lost himself to the pleasure, a burning pressure building up in his gut with each shallow and deep thrust.

Falling down on top of you, he held you close to him, letting your arms go so you could dig your nails into the flesh of his toned, freckled back flexing with each movement.

The bed banged loudly against the wall, he momentarily worried it would leave a dent- but he couldn’t think about that now. Not when you were crying out his name so sweetly.

“I’m here, I’m here..” he soothed as you clung to him.

Your hips began to move in circles, drugging him with intense ecstasy as he thrusts into you. You kept him wanting more and more. He was addicted to you. 

Pushing your legs back against the mattress, he reached so deep inside you, you swore you could feel his head kissing at your womb. 

You were so helpless to the waves of infinite pleasure he washed you over with that all you could do was take it.

“You’re doing so.. hah… so good, baby..” he praised breathlessly.

“Gnnn! Gaahhah..! Izuku!!”

“Let me hear it.. let me hear you, princess.” He smiled against your skin as you let out an onslaught of sultry moans, fueling his inner fire.

“I’m..! I- gwaahhh..! I’m so c-close..!”

“Me too, me too..” He fervently pressed kisses to your cheek, letting his other hand travel down to coat his thumb in your spare wetness, just to rub circles on your puffy clit, applying the right amount of pressure that always drove you insane.

Drool dribbled down the side of your mouth as your tongue flopped out, breasts bouncing with each and every thrust, constantly captivating him as he could feel their softness against his pecs.

Holding you flushed against him, he let magic crackle to life on his hand, green sparks lighting up the area around the two of you just barely. His hand began to vibrate, magic he learned was good for massaging muscles, but of course, it had.. other uses..

The vibration against your clit, added to the pounding of his cock expertly slamming against your G-spot, sent your head flying back, white vision going black as your pussy strangled his cock like a python.

“Haaahh.! Aah!” You cried his name out so loudly it burned your throat, leaving you to cum harshly on his dick, the strange sensation of liquid squirting from your body making your mind go numb as all you were left with was burning hot stars in your eyes.

The display alone was enough to drag him over the edge as well, slamming his cock into you once more before warm ropes of cum spurted into you, completely coating your walls and spewing out from the sheer amount as he let out a silent moan.

His thighs twitched and his stomach felt empty when he finally came down from his high, the same time as you.

Love filled his gaze as you both peered into each other’s eyes, enraptured by the souls sealed within.

Heavy breaths blew past your lips, desperate to calm down your racing heart.

“How was it..?” He questioned lightly, moving hair out of your face so he could get a better look.

“How was… what..?” Your mind was still clouded. You hadn’t any idea how he could still think straight.

Giggling, he rubbed his nose lovingly against your own. 

“The potion. Could you feel its effects..?”

Staring at him in bewilderment, it took a second to register his words. 

The potion.. what had it done again..?

Oh..

You slapped a hand over your mouth, pulling away from him. ��Oh gosh..!” 

You were so embarrassed! 

Gah, to be so loud!! You wanted to hide in a hole..!

“Don't be shy, my love,” He pleaded sweetly, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead, “it’s just me.”

“That's the point!! I-it was embarrassing to- to be so.. lewd in f-front of you…”

“You say that, and yet I’m still deep inside you,”

“Izuku..!” You groaned, shoving his smiling face away with both hands, only for him to grab your hands and place gentle kisses on them.

“I.. I liked hearing you..” he flushed, bashfully looking away.

Though he could be quite the dominant man in bed, it was always endearing how he was still the shy witch you fell in love with at the end of the day.

“W-well I..” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “Well I’ll be louder for now o-on then..!” Your declaration surprised him, shock resting on his features before he broke out in another smile, flopping on top of your sweaty body just to hug you to his own equally as sweaty body.

“I love you, (Y/N)..” he sighed blissfully, burying his nose in your hair as he cuddled you, the crackling of the blazing fire just now reaching his ears.

“I love you too, Izuku.”

Though he could be a handful at times, with his insistent drive to be better and push himself beyond his current limits, as well as running headfirst into danger and getting littered with scars, you still loved him.

You always would.

He was your kind witch, and you, his darling beloved.

And nothing would ever get between a witch and the one he called his.

.

..

…

….

“So, are you going to pull out? I feel a little messy.”

“In a minute..”

“Izu!”

[bullworthdrabbles]

Women of Bullworth: Part 4 Lola Lombardi

The woman who through her infidelity drives the plot of chapter 3, she didn’t do that intentionally, Rockstar didn’t give her enough agency or character to do so. So once again she was just another Helen of Troy plotline, but hey at least she’s aware of it this time. I have a lot of complex feelings about Lola and they’re incredibly difficult for me to unpack because of the sheer amount of sexist oversight with her.

Jimmy, the player character, canonically also dates around, and no one really cares that he broke up established relationships or was seemingly dating all of these people without the other’s knowledge, consent, or ending the prior relationship. Yet, Lola does much of the same and suddenly she gets slut-shamed by the story in a way Jimmy is not. Hell, even many in the fandom give her hate for doing the same shit Jimmy does with no criticism. That’s a double standard if I ever saw one.

“But Cas,” I can hear you say, “Lola was in a committed relationship with Johnny”

Yeah, and Jimmy was in a committed relationship with Pinky (I assume at some point their relationship dissolved but Rockstar didn’t show or tell us it happened) before suddenly going around dating other girls. I also have to question Johnny here, this isn’t to blame Johnny. I definitely feel bad and have been in his shoes before, but after several times of being cheated on and lashing out at the wrong people, you would think he’d get sick enough to leave. Oh wait I know exactly why he didn’t, Johnny’s actions have the most sway over the plot in this chapter and the writers couldn’t be fucked to make their actual antagonist whip up any drama. So they once again used their free conflict device, a woman, to make some slapped together bargain bin Outsiders Prep vs. Greaser's plotline. Although the Greasers and the Preps hated each other already and literally anything could have caused a clique war between the two factions, but okay I guess.

Despite her being the catalyst for a lot of Chapter 3, she doesn’t really move the plot forward. We also have no idea as to why she cheats on Johnny other than “it’s exciting”. Take a shot every time she says “excited” or “exciting” in a double entendre and yet never explains why the things she is talking about are exciting to her. What does she even get out of dating around? Rockstar sure won’t tell you. What pisses me off here is that they could have tied her actions into the main plot easily by just saying she was doing it purposely to help Gary in the plan of taking over the school. They could have explained that she wanted to be the queen of the school and given her good motivation for wanting to be better than all the other girls in the school. But that involves seeing your female characters as people with their own goals, thoughts, and feelings. Rockstar, a company mostly made up of men during 2006, clearly didn’t view their character that way and that is deeply saddening.

What makes me the saddest is the fact that a lot of the fandom has a unique hatred of Lola despite her not being unique at all in the story. She’s just a “maneater” stereotype with no character beyond that. The hatred and narratives spun about her in the fandom very much feel misogynistic, I understand not liking people who cheat, but many folks have a unique disdain for her that makes no sense considering how flimsy the writing is. I hear the argument that what Lola was doing was somehow worse than all the other characters and frankly I have to laugh. She’s nothing more than a free conflict device, walking health pack, collectible item, and minor quest giver. Johnny has more of an effect on the plot and character development and that is why we care more about him and justify his actions more than Lola’s despite Lola not being as overly possessive, and getting as irrationally violent to others as Johnny.

Rockstar could have very easily tied Lola into the plot, given her some sort of motivation, and given her agency within her own story. But to do that, you have to view women as just as valid and valuable characters and men. That would have meant introducing nuance and they didn’t want that. They just wanted Lola to be a plot device, decoration, a reward for the player, and a glorified health pack. The fandom’s hatred of her clearly comes from a lot of misogyny and a bunch of double standards.

And what makes this worse is that I really like her and I could see the potential for a story. Little kernels of good ideas and concepts, going to waste because Rockstar can’t write a woman beyond a cliche stereotype. She’s honestly a favorite girl character of mine despite her lack of development because I see all the ways she could have been more interesting and developed. I see all the ways she could have made a commentary on sexism, poverty, and cis-hetero relationships in high school. I see a morally gray character that could have challenged many stereotypes and notions about what teenage girls go through and do, but will never fully be realized because the writers couldn’t be bothered to care about their own characters. So instead we got a weird amalgamation of several other teen girl fantasy characters and man-eater stereotypes to get this cardboard character with no agency or motivations outside of wanting to be “excited”. Queue me giving the biggest eye roll known to man.

Anyway, I think I’ve ranted long enough. In the next post, I will be talking about Mandy, and that will also be a pretty long post so strap yourself in this will be a long one.

[elriel-oblivion]

Okay here's the thing.. I respect everyone's opinions and they can ship whoever they want but like... For Elucien and Gwynriel... I literally cannot even see how. I would gladly ship them if someone gave me a valid reason. Elain avoids talking or even being in the same room as Lucien, and Azriel had one polite conversation with Gwyn. Az is just nice to her. As nice as he would be to any female. Elriel has foreshadowing & chemistry- The roses painted on her drawer and the rose necklace...👀

Strongly agree with all of this!! My main problem with anything that's not elriel is that a lot of anti-elriel shippers completely ignore or erase Elain. With these ships, it's always what benefits Elain does or doesn't bring. It's so misogynistic, people just ignore everything she's mentioned about her own heart and how she doesn't want a mate or the bond, she doesn't care for it, but oh Lucien's had such a hard life, he deserves his mate!!!!!

😒😒😒

Surely he deserves someone who wants him as much as he wants them, no?

Non-elriel-endgame with the canon we currently have would mean Elain's choices are stripped once again since she'd have to give up/lose the love she actually wants in favour of one she doesn't want that's attached to some cultural concept that means zilch to her and her human heart. I mean, sure sjm could spin it so Elain catches feelings for Lucien and they end up happily mated. But then what is the point of having Elain constantly avoid him for three books? That's not even setting up for a good relationship bc every time they interact/meet, the communication just gets worse.

While I can honestly see the potential of gwynriel bc platonic interactions can later become romantic, I still don't ship it bc it doesn't feel right the way elriel does to me. I can def see gwynriel becoming a strong healthy friendship, but if it's endgame then Elain ends up with Lucien, whom she visibly shrinks from and has been avoiding since acowar. She doesn't feel seen by him at all - as much as I love Lucien and truly do want him to have his own HEA, we can't deny that he's really just pursuing (I use pursuing in the loosest way since he's very respectful about it 😅) Elain bc of the bond. If we take that away, there's nothing between them imo and he probably wouldn't give Elain more than a passing glance for her beauty and that's it bc she's not the type of girl he's into.

But people don't wanna think about how that makes Elain feel. This girl who previously felt seen by only one person - who then rejected her bc of that bond itself - and craves someone to see who she truly is, is being courted by someone who doesn't actually like her for her, but just the idea of what a relationship with her would entail. He's only trying bc of some divine belief she doesn't share. That must suck like hell. It's almost objectfying, the bond. And again, I don't blame Lucien at all, not even for trying bc it is something that's important to him and his culture, but it's not a mutual thing. If it were important to Elain too and she just wasn't cooperating bc of some stupid shallow reason, then I'd be angry at her. But that's not the case at all.

But with Azriel, the first person to see her since Graysen, there's so much potential for growth - for both of them. They make each other feel seen. And for all that antis say neither has grown in the time they've known each other, how did Az pluck up the courage to almost kiss Elain after having not done anything with Mor for five centuries? How did Elain initiate that kiss - ie have the courage to follow her heart again after having it torn and shredded by Graysen? And anyway, weve never seen into Elain's head so we don't know what she feels has changed within her; we can only detect subtle changes from other povs, but there might be some huge changes in her learnt from Azriel, maybe about her outlook on life/strength, that she's just keeping hidden for the time (or that no one has bothered to see bc Elain is invisible 😭). Same with Azriel. One little chapter isn't gonna tell us everything he's been thinking the past two years.

But either way, we know now that they both have feelings for each other. Why is a mutual healthy relationship shut down so quickly, one where both partners' choices are taken heed of? If Elain had said no in that moment, Azriel would've stepped back instantly, no questions asked. He probably would've have some huge internal conflict about his own self worth but he wouldn't have gone further without Elain's consent. He's already shown he respects her, he said they've been sharing looks and touches, and these are things fandom eat up, so I don't understand why it's suddenly wrong or unwanted just bc Elain makes up half the ship.

And there's so much foreshadowing/symbolism that antis seem oblivious to, which, fair enough, interpret the text how you want. But even if somebody doesn't see the spark or blooming feelings between the pair throughout the books (how do they explain away all the stiffness whenever one of them is mentioned or is in the same room or something though? Genuinely curious here), there's a lot of plot foreshadowing. The Blood Duel has now been mentioned twice, as has the idea of breaking the bond, maybe more. There's the issue with Koschei and Elain not being able to see things related to him past mist and shadow. There's all this potential conflict that could arise between the Courts if elriel pursue their love, and conflict is the driving force of any novel.

If gwynriel were an IRL couple, I wouldn't care if there were never any conflict, but if I'm reading their story, I want more than just them falling in love and having internal conflict about whether they should kiss the other or not. Especially if the backdrop is a fantasy world on the brink of war with many players. I saw a gwynriel post mentioning Merrill once and while I do think she has the potential to be a running antagonist, I don't see her as anything but a subplot/crony for/associate with another stronger villain. I don't think she could carry a whole novel at the moment. So Gwyn is tied to nothing in the overarching plot. Same with Az. Not to mention all the theories about the Koschei/Swan Lake/firebird folklore that is potentially inspiring this new series in the acotar world. Of course, this could all change as we get more info about the next book/s and all, but compared to elriel certainly, I don't think there's as much conflict with gwynriel.

Ultimately, I don't claim knowledge of the next books' content, so I don't really care what people ship, but the main thing I take issue with is how they treat Elain in the midst. A lot of gwynriel arguments I've seen portray certain acts in a romantic/positive light for Gwyn but either completely ignore or erase any semblance of romance for Elain or tear her down. Like, we shouldn't push the narrative that Gwyn as an SA survivor can't have healthy meaningful sex in the future (yeah, of course I agree), yet some of the same people who say that are also people who judge and make fun of Elain and call her too vanilla for Az without having a clue what her bedroom habits/preferences are 🤯 This is just one of many. There are so many double standards I've seen for gwynriel against elriel and I'm just tired of it. And even if they're not doing any of that, they simply hate Elain and don't want her to be with Az and so ship gwynriel as the next best alternative. Like, can they not push down Elain in favour of Gwyn, please? That's so misogynistic 🤮

For all that this fandom flaunts the series being feminist with strong female characters, they sure do a good job in tearing down females who don't fit their definition of strong, despite even Feyre stating and acknowledging multiple times that Elain has a different kind of strength 😒

Gahhhhhhh. *exhales deeeeeeeeply* Sorry this is so damn LONG!! 😅😅😅😅😅 I did not expect to write a whole bloody essay lol but I hope it was fun/comforting to read at least 😅😆 I know I fall back on elriel posts when the ship war gets too intense bc I actually enjoy shipping elriel. They've become my otp, and I absolutely adore both characters of the ship; I think most of us elriels do. I haven't really seen any elriel stans who dislike/don't care for Elain and her welfare so it's nice being in this corner of the fandom where we can appreciate both Az and Elain equally. And of course, the other characters with their due respect. I truly do want Lucien to finally get his good life, but I don't think that's with Elain 😕

[hawkland]

Destiel fic recs #3 - the (mostly) longfic edition!

It’s been a while since my last rec post - mostly because I’ve been wallowing in a number of longer fics (50-350k!) so it’s taken me a while to have enough to talk about in one post (and boy do I talk a lot, here!)

With these longer fics, I do sometimes have some caveats with my recs - or at least reasons why they might not appeal to every Dean/Cas reader. But note that if I didn’t overall strongly recommend reading the fic I wouldn’t include it in my recs here at all, so any quibbles I bring up are minor compared to my overall enjoyment of the stories. Just, I don’t want someone to commit to a long read without knowing what they’re getting into and why it might not be their thing.

I’m still not into reading complete setting AUs at this time, but a lot/most of these are canon-divergence AUs, often written/set at the end of a season and giving an alternative take on what happened next. I love those kind of stories, as it’s often so interesting to see how fans thought of what might happen in the next season (especially when it’s better than what we actually got.)

Onto the recs & discussion behind the cut!

The Sinking Ship by UnfortunatelyObsessed (114k). This is a story that ripped my heart to pieces (in a good way!). I stayed up all night to finish reading because I simply couldn’t stop once I started on it and it gave me a massive fic hanger from all my emotions. Season 14 divergence, imagine if Dean did go into the Ma’lak box to trap Michael under the ocean with him forever...and once there, he discovers that Cas has stowed away with him. Because of course Cas would never leave Dean to such a fate on his own.

I loved literally. Every. Damn. Thing. About this fic. Cas telling Dean stories to pass the (endless) time. Their small intimate moments while realizing they can never consummate physically while trapped in the box but finding every other way to express their love. The absolute heartbreak that had me SOBBING when Michael fights for control of Dean and destroys everything they’ve built together and Cas thinks he’s lost Dean forever. Sam & Gabriel & Rowena & Claire & Jack doing everything they can to devise a plan back home to try to save them both while keeping Michael trapped. Also even just the wonderfully sensitive portrayal of aroace Jack still closely bonded with Claire and Maggie and just. And just. This is a story I’ve already re-read just to savor how much I loved it and its portrayal of everyone in TFW 2.0 and their extended family, it just hit my id in all the most incredible ways and I have nothing but absolute love for this one.

Beautiful Chaos by anyrei, mugglerock (141k). Season 9 canon-divergence, in which Dean doesn’t simply abandon Cas to fend for himself post 09x03. Instead he sets Cas up in a kind of squatter’s nest in an abandoned building near the bunker so he can keep tabs on him and help him out. 

This fic definitely gets the award for FILTHIEST, HOTTEST, SMUTTIEST Dean/Cas (and Cas/other) I’ve read in, like, ever, for human!Cas turns out to be a rather insatiable sex fiend/cock slut and Dean is too up his own repressed ass to easily give Cas what he wants/needs. It is dark at times, Cas ends up in some very unsavory/non-con situations, and the authors do mention that they tried to hone in on endverse!Cas’s characterization more than what we saw in Season 9...so you might roll with it, you might not. I adored their original character Jerry the tattoo artist in this, and like I said it was seriously hot (if you are good with total bottom!Cas and Cas with others, I know those are not everyone’s cuppa). I did have a few minor issues. For one, the last chapter felt a bit rushed and hand-wavey, but clearly the authors weren’t fond of the canon conflicts of season 9 & 10 (Abbadon, Mark of Cain) and just wanted to be done with them. Can’t say I really blame them. And I did have to laugh a bit at Lebanon, Kansas apparently having such a bustling gay bar/tattoo artist/etc scene being someone from a butt-fuck nowhere American small town myself. But, SPN was never all that realistic in how Lebanon was shown (and yes I’ve spent too much time roaming around it on Google maps), so if you can suspend some disbelief this is an awesome hot/angsty/occasionally heartbreaking read.

These Forsaken Lands by destielpasta (53k). I came upon this story when looking for fics that dealt in some way with the aftermath of Godstiel. This is a wonderfully atmospheric late Season 9 “fill-in” case fic (post Meta-fiction) where Cas ends up in a small town that had been visited by Godstiel...and while initially residents have reaped much good fortune, there has suddenly been a wave of deaths/bad events and he is determined to find out what happened and set things right. He calls upon Dean for help, but Dean is fighting the Mark of Cain and it’s going to take a lot to get past its control and find a way out for both of them. Together they work on repairing an old church while trying to repair each other and their damaged relationship.

I loved this story for how well written it was, really invoking a gothic small-town/Americana atmosphere. The original characters blend in very well with the case-fic at the center of it, and the author deals really well with Cas at a very fragile point when he’s running on borrowed grace and trying to navigate Dean’s MoC-enhanced anger. It’s Dean/Cas but actually much more of a Cas character study, so I highly recommend it to my fellow/compatriot Cas-girls who love a good wallow in his head.

Mixed Emotions by Tierra469 (50k). Canon 12 “parallel” fic that then goes canon-divergent with the season finale. I actually stumbled on this while in the mood to read some Cas/ or & Mary fic after enjoying their interactions in Season 12 (don’t hate me). This is sort of two fics in one. The first half focuses mostly on filling in the gaps with some critical S12 Cas episodes, especially Cas & Mary’s developing friendship (and one night of something more). But of course Cas’s feelings for Dean (and vice-versa) are always there, and when Cas figures out a way to get his powers fully back, the question is if Dean can open himself up to be vulnerable - and express love - the way Cas needs for this to work.

This was an interesting fic in a lot of ways. I loved the author’s take on angels’ connections to their vessels and grace, it was very consistent in a way the show sometimes/often wasn’t. Cas is very Cas in not understanding privacy and personal boundaries (so he does some questionable things, admittedly, which might squick some readers). The smut is fucking HOT - though I will caution at one point it involves Cas temporarily in a younger (NOT underage) female vessel (and the story does point out Dean’s discomfort with this and some of the consent issues involved, I don’t want to spoil too much). I wanted the Mary plot resolved more than it was, but I still recommend this story strongly for the quality of the writing and unique/well-developed take on angel lore and mechanics that was quite different from what I’m used to reading.

We Are Either Here Or Not Here by petramacneary (54k) A post-season 12 fic that goes on a different tangent to how Cas returns, and what happens in the meantime. Particularly, it offers a different take on what apocalypseverse!Cas would be like—as Mary makes her own way back from that world with AU!Cas as her prisoner.

What I loved about this story: first off, BAMF!Mary is awesome here. Dean is so heartbreaking, not quite knowing what the fuck to do with this different Cas who at times is just a painful reminder of who/what Dean’s lost...but then becomes a chance for Dean to say and express some of the things he always was afraid to in the past. And when (real/our) Cas finally returns, there’s some very interesting stuff that happens with both Cas & AU!Cas and Cas & Dean that I don’t want to spoil. (And let’s also just say that when real!Cas and Dean finally get together it’s AMAZINGLY awesome. Like, hot Impala!sex. So is the artwork that goes with this story.)

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow (353k) The longest fic I read this time around and probably the one I have the most mixed feelings about, but a while on I do keep thinking about parts of it so I do rec it with some caveats. This is a canon-divergence after the end of Season 11. Dean & Sam find Cas after he’s been blasted out of the bunker...to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Mary isn’t in this one except for a brief appearance/visit, which Dean thinks is Amara’s gift to him. Life seems good for a while, they’re enjoying dealing with mundane problems for a change, but then Cas seems to be pulling away from the brothers, spending less and less time with them at the bunker, taking a mundane job at another Gas ‘n Sip, and clearly preoccupied by something else. Or is it someone else? Dean is worried yet finally ready to accept that Cas maybe has a girlfriend, or a boyfried, but then it turns out that is not at all what Cas has going on. It’s something far more serious than that.

Honestly I almost stopped reading when the reveal happened - it’s a subject that’s very sensitive to me from personal/family experience and not something I usually like reading in fic (especially if there is a sad ending.) So I admit I jumped ahead to read how it would end first before committing to finishing it. And I am glad I did, because the author handles the subject matter with a realism and obvious knowledge of experience as well, not how I often see it in fanfic. There are a lot of emotional ups and downs but it’s nice seeing Dean in his momma-hen/mode, and Sam is so so good in this one! I think I enjoyed Sam’s characterization here most of all! And the author has a really cool/well developed angel/wing lore that hit my wing-kink pretty hard. I do think it could have all been edited down a bit - I found myself skimming parts, especially in the last third, just to get on with things. But it’s definitely a story you can disappear into for a good long time and I’ve bookmarked the author’s other works to read later, so again, I do rec it even with a few caveats.

A few shorter fics, too, just because I don’t want to forget about them...

Eleven Erogenous Zones of a Fallen Angel by almaasi (15k) Pure gratuitous wing!kink for me :) Cas uses the last of his grace to manifest his wings...but then is stuck with them in his human form and not even able to use them to fly as he used to. This presents a lot of awkward problems to deal with but also the excuse for Dean to help him keep them clean :) I did say wing kink, right? :D :D I loved how Cas seemed confused about the pleasure signals he got from bathing vs. sex vs. grooming and all of that. It’s sweet and hot and has my favorite kind of caretaking Dean in it.

Fossil Tracks by SegaBarrett  (3k). Dean & Sam & Cas and dinosaurs. How can you go wrong with that? One of the SPN stories from the Id Pro Quo collection I really enjoyed reading (and didn’t write myself, lol).

[sinsbymanka]

Writing Tag Game

Okay listen I’m on vacation XD hence why I’m ignoring everyone’s tags/taking forever to respond. But I’ve been tagged in this A LOT and I really liked it/wanted to do it so thank you to everyone who tagged me (oh my god I’m so sorry if I missed one of you there were SO MANY): @noire-pandora, @in-arlathan, @thevikingwoman, @morganlefaye79, @elveny, @kunstpause, @pikapeppa

I’m not tagging anyone because I’m tagging everyone since I’m too lazy to find my tag list (I’m on VACATION). If you’ve not gotten tagged and wanted to do this, say I tagged you. 

How many works do you have on Ao3?

147 - I have 145 linked to my profile and two in the anonymous collection. 

What's your total Ao3 wordcount?

1,468,248. Almost 1.5 million!! 

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Of Miracles and Heroes (FenHawke, Cadash/Varric, Varania/Blackwall): 269

Interspecies Relationships Have Their Ups and Downs (Shakarian): 145

Don’t Make it Hawkeward (Varric/Hawke): 135

The Ambassador’s Vices (Josephine/Adaar): 111

The Girl with the Arrow Tattoo (Cadash/Varric): 101

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do (but - to be honest - it takes me FOREVER). I love comments. It’s so much easier to not leave comments than leave comments, so every time someone leaves one I’m blown away. I feel like - for leaving me a comment - you’re definitely owed an answer! I do apologize that it takes me awhile though - I am very bad at answering because they mean a lot to me and I get easily overwhelmed by the AO3 inbox I don’t know why. Blame anxiety. 

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I’ll be honest, I don’t like angsty endings so I don’t have many of them. By far the angstiest ending I have is Flowers, Lies, and Forgiveness. This is a Bianca Davri/Varric Tethras fic set during the final act of DA2. I wrote it from Bianca’s POV - showing Varric unraveling under the pressure of Kirkwall and Bianca’s complicated feelings about infidelity to her husband who clearly cares about her as well. I wrote it for @hollyand-writes who always lets me lean into the tragic “fucked upness” of the pairing when I’m feeling like making Varric suffer.  

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending

I prefer happy endings so almost EVERYTHING has a happy ending. My favorite endings, so far, are for Cheating the Dread Wolf, which is my Varric/Cadash/Solas polycule (or as I like to refer to it - Solas has a dwarf kink) and The Viscount’s Mistress which is my Hurt/Comfort Cadash/Varric Trespasser bullshit. 

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I have not written crossovers - but I am very into AUs in another setting that belongs to a different fictional universe. Most recently I got back into my Downton Abbey bullshit and wrote Flappers for Fen’harel which is basically a Downton Abbey AU Solas/Cadash and I’m not taking comments about the outrageousness of it. 

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yep. Honestly though? Over the two years I’ve been active in Fandom, the shitty comments can be counted on one hand and usually came from the same people over and over again, who are easily blocked, and should stop seeking out clearly labeled content they don’t like. Me and my work are not for everyone - that’s REALLY okay. I’ve blocked people for no other reason than making things I don’t like - that doesn’t mean they’re bad people. 

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

GOD DO I.

I am extremely sex and kink positive. Because of this - a lot of my work involves sex in some way or another. I think sex is a beautiful part of many (although not all) relationships, and that it’s frequently glossed over in mainstream media (particularly queer, kinky, and polyam sex). 

This ranges from sort of vanilla slow burns (My Cole/Bea fic, Compassion for an Assassin, has smut which hasn’t been posted yet. It’s Cole’s first time and is fairly vanilla and romantic, and occurs approximately 40k into the fic) to some pretty dubious consent near 24/7 dom/sub dynamics with BDSM kinks (I’ve written JUST as much of the Sereda/Gorim problematic smut as @jarakrisafis has in our series Forced Moves). 

There’s very few kinks I’m not willing to touch at least to try out - even if I end up not liking them. And the ones that aren’t for me are 100% allowed to exist and I will fight for them to the bloody end. My only recommendation is CLEARLY labeling your shit and not being afraid to add a tag if someone asks you to. 

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of? I’ve seen ideas I’ve tried on picked up by other people - but I don’t consider that stealing and it’s hard to trace “who has been inspired by who” because we ALL have been inspired by thousands of other people and frankly more stuff for me when I pull you over to my weird AUs and rarepairs. 

I also think that’s a huge part of not getting stolen - I’ve got so much weird niche shit that only a couple people read that stealing from me is going to most likely be caught IMMEDIATELY the audience is so small. 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t believe so!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! I’ve got some co-written secret smut with @blarfkey which almost nobody has seen, I’ve borrowed @tightassets Hawke, Lavellan, and Shepard for fics that she has illustrated, borrowed @tuffypelly‘s Adaars for some great fics, and my most ambitious project - the Forced Moves series with @jarakrisafis. It started out as us just exchanging gifts back and forth but we’ve wrangled it into Gambits and Countergambits, an Aeducan-origin prequel, that I’m VERY proud of. 

I love co-writing very much, but it’s very important to find the right partner and for it to be someone you trust completely. 

What's your all time favourite ship?

This is a stupidly hard question because I am, at heart, a multi-shipper. 

I love Varric/Hawke and Varric/Cadash. I’m also a sucker for Solas/Cadash. My fandom pool noodle is Varric/Cadash/Solas which I adore, and I’m very fond of Cole/Cadash. 

Most recently I’ve been DEEP in Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Bhelen/Rica/Vartag, and Aeducan/Brosca feels. Dwarf origins are the best origins in my opinion and those characters are PERFECT. 

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I fully plan on finishing everything. My writing style changed a lot, for the better, in a short period of time. I need to integrate my old style/new style and had to get a pep talk about how to do that. Now I’m ready to try as soon as I finish Compassion for an Assassin. 

What are your writing strengths? 

I write very sexy, hot smut. I also really like playing with character voice and making sure I get them “right” so I do a lot of experimenting before publishing a new character for the first time. 

I struggle to write action scenes - it’s like pulling fucking teeth - but people really LOVE my action scenes and they read well. So that’s something I’m proud of even if it feels like doing fucking pull ups. 

What are your writing weaknesses?

I never learned anything. My experiences with English and writing teachers were overwhelmingly negative. I’m unsure if I’m just not cut out for classes or if they were that bad, but I always left feeling like there was one “right” way to do it, and everything I liked was “bad”, so what was the point of “learning” anything? 

It turns out there’s this very pompous, pretentious thought process in writing where people “assume” things must be done, but GOOD writing teachers teach you the rules and then how to break them. I either never had a good writing teacher or got too intimidated to give them a chance before bouncing. 

So I’m exceedingly self-taught. I lack the vocabulary to discuss plot structure, characterization, grammar, etc. I instinctively know most of these things based on trial and error and reading, but I didn’t learn them and I miss a lot of nuance in the rules, but until recently I was still too intimidated and unsure of myself to admit that or take it seriously. 

So - my defense mechanism is NOT taking ANYTHING seriously. If my writing is a joke to me, it’s gotta be a joke to everyone else, but that’s been a shield to hide behind instead of being thoughtful about things. I’m here to have fun, yes, but there’s nothing wrong with learning a technique to the art. 

I’ve learned - mostly thanks to @blarfkey who is an amazing person and a wonderful teacher - that I am a good writer based on my self-teaching. And being intimidated of people who throw around impressive sounding words is a weakness that I am working on. 

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? 

Use sparingly and with good reason. It should be short and explained later or clear from context. 

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter on message boards back in the fucking day. Thankfully none of it exists anywhere anymore. 

What's your favourite fic you've written?

This is such a sappy answer and I’m so sorry. My favorite things have been written for and because of people I love and care about. When I read them, I’m not just reading the story, but remembering the relationships I’ve made and how important they are. 

So, my top three fics for THAT reason: 

1. Cheating the Dread Wolf - written for @blarfkey who inspired the idea and ruthlessly encouraged me to make it happen. This fic was so healing for me because it heavily features Fatherhood within it - and I lost my father in June 2020. I don’t know if I’d have been able to do it without her and it was so important for me to do. 

2. Gambits and Countergambits - written with @jarakrisafis and the culmination of a years worth of gifting shit back and forth and crafting a shared universe. The worldbuilding, smut, relationships, EVERYTHING about this fic is so deeply and passionately cared about by both of us and to our knowledge it is completely, totally unique.  

3. Relentless, Ridiculous, and Rakish - one of my only primarily gen-fics focusing on a forming brother/sister relationship between Maria Cadash and @tuffypelly‘s Otsar Adaar. I very much enjoyed writing it for her <3 

And then my overall favorite fic: 

The Viscount’s Mistress: I have a lot of opinions about how fanfiction treats the anchor’s meltdown and the aftermath. It’s one of the things in DAI that resonated with me SO much as someone who lives with chronic pain and a disability. I loved the fact my OC was in the same shoes and STILL saving the world. This is very much a fic that explores all the dark sides of trauma, pain, and the mental health effects of it. But it ends on a happy and hopeful note.  

[popurikat]

Ruin Teresa Agnes career. Aka: the Teresa analysis. Take all the time you need >:3

Okay I’m saying this right off the bat in case someone who stans this character misses the point above, but well I hate Teresa Agnes’ character in the maze series, both movie and book. However, in my analysis I will try to explain why her character misses the mark both as a villain and as a sympathetic character. So, to analyze her in depth, I’m putting this into parts under the read below. HEADS UP! As of now this analysis will exclude Death Cure Novel review as I have not finished that one, though it will mention one major spoiler I have been informed of from that book that I need to add for the sake of her character; other than that I will be discussing the other three novels before it (yes that is including the prequel Fever code) and the three movies from the series in broad ideas as I am not about to scavenge for quotes like I did in my last long post… well at least not as many.

Part 1: Teresa the master manipulator

No matter which way you look at it, Teresa has a way to bend others to her will, whether we blame WCKD for teaching her so well; or she used it as a means of survival, the idea still stands. Though she is extremely skilled in combat, especially at using spears and knives, Teresa’s biggest skill is her silver tongue, she can lie her way out of anything. Most evident is her betrayal in Scorch when she has such a good poker face that she not only convinces group B that Thomas is the problem they have to eradicate to get WCKD’s good side, but she also doesn’t hesitate to maim Thomas to the point of threatening to kill him: “Get in the room or I’ll hit you again. I swear I’ll keep doing it till you pass out or bleed to death” (Ch. 51). /sarcasm/ Charming ain’t she? /end of sarcasm/ The thing about lying though is that sometimes it backfires, for instance in the case of Group B, Harriet and Sonya hear Thomas out on why they shouldn’t kill him like Teresa asked, and when they listen and observe him they realize that Teresa is the worst and side with him; which in turn makes Teresa have to take drastic measures which involve getting Thomas alone with her to finish her duties to WCKD. Anyways, she even goes as far as to cement her betrayal by kissing Aris and crushing Thomas’ feelings by saying they were never a thing; she does this mind you without so much as breaking this character she builds up even though later she tries to say she still cares for Thomas. She is so convincing that Thomas has stated that: “Thomas had never heard such arrogance from her. She was either a really good actress or had started going crazy. Gained a split personality or two” (Ch. 45, Scorch). So yes, Teresa is too good at lying to the point I can say she can align as a Pathological Liar because she’s deceptive, goal-oriented in order to get HER way meaning she will not tolerate anyone interfering with her methods, she disregards the feelings of everyone around her, and she is constantly tweaking her excuses to adjust to the situations at hand. She is so good at lying she oozes self confidence when elaborating her defense by staring directly at the person she is talking to, unblinking, and will lash out in defense if someone calls her out on any inconsistencies. 

Mind you this isn’t the first instance we get at how well she turns the story to her favor. In Fever Code, she is the one to help put the Gladers in the maze and erase Thomas’ memories, which transfers in Maze Runner with how she openly gaslights everyone by pretending she doesn’t remember much about WCKD’s doings even though her memories are the only ones implied to be in tact based on that email she wrote in Fever Code: “I’ve just said my goodbye to Thomas, and he’s now in the Glade, safe and sound. Tomorrow, it will be my turn. Dr. Paige has asked me to send a final note to everyone, sharing my thoughts. I’m more than happy to do so. I feel good about the plan to leave my and Aris’s memories intact. You need someone in each group with whom you can communicate and plan during the phases of the Trials”(FC epilogue) and also based on this specific tid bit in Maze Runner where she slips she knows more than she lets on: “Though I guess a Griever can’t squeeze through this window, so I’ll be happy, right?” The mention of Grievers surprised him -- he didn’t remember talking about them to her yet. ‘Teresa are you sure you’ve forgotten everything?”(Ch.37, pg.246). Griever knowledge in general for Teresa in Maze seems to be code talk for “I am here to cause trouble, I kept my memories'' because during the sequence with the fiasco with the invasion of the species in Group A’s field, Teresa casually wakes up after the event’s commotion subsides earning Newt’s suspicion that maybe the map fire was not done on accident. Anyways, in keeping things down low and having an advantage in memory recollection, she ensures Thomas and co. don’t recall events correctly unless it's vital to her mission. And yes, Teresa will use violence and anger if necessary; she is perfectly fine with murder...”So we’re just going to kill them all? [...] They’ll die anyway [...] No, Tom, It’s be tough now or everyone dies later”(Ch. 47, Fever Code). Or even this small aside on her stance on death overall: “This is kind of fun,’ Teresa whispered to Thomas. ‘Walking along with my new friend.’ He looked at her in bemused disbelief. ‘Really? You drop that bombshell about kids dying and now you act like it’s no big deal? You’re so weird.’ He tried to make a joke out of it to hide just how horrified he’s been by her second question” (Ch. 9, pg. 55, FC). And she has killed, mind you, yes they were cranks, but they are still humanly conscious. Thomas in comparison shows pity about the fact that they were still human, Teresa didn’t bat an eye. And now, you might say “Hey Popuri, you know, she’s just willing to kill if it means saving everyone else right?” to which I go, sure she’s stated that if it means saving the rest it doesn’t matter if thousands or so die. However, she is also clear that she only cares about Thomas’ survival in specific, no one else; which immediately gets falsified by her “lie” in Scorch, thus she will kill anyone if need be no matter how close they are. What I’m saying is that not even Teresa has a clear path in why she manipulates everyone when she can so easily be convinced to make elaborate murder scenarios at the snap of WCKD’s fingers. She claims it's to save her “crush” but will not hesitate to shed his blood and drag him across the desert. 

She claims it's to help WCKD, that WCKD is good, but she has bore witness time and time again that the facility makes countless errors and knows there's no REAL cure available … and Teresa is a smart kid, so why continue believing a hopeless façade? Because she's desperate to cling to some hope? No. Teresa doesn’t do the whole hope thing, she's convinced WCKD is good period, there's nothing else. So, even if there is no evidence anymore she will fight tooth and nail for something she herself is trapped in because no one will want to be there for the girl who treated her only connections as poorly as WCKD treated her. Therefore, is it because she can’t help it then? I can only imagine that's the case. She’s willingly this puppet for WCKD, she could’ve escaped them any time she liked like Thomas and co. did, but she prefers to stay on the burning train even if it means her own demise because she refuses to admit any of her actions were wrong, the truth will NOT set her free because she cannot confront it. 

Moving forward, I wanna delve more into the whole telepathy dealio she specifically shares with Thomas and we actually never really learn if she can talk to others as she evades the question when it does arrive in book. The only certain thing is that if you have a chip, you can talk using your mind. Now this would be a fine plot device, but in the hands of someone who wants to control your every move and thought, well....”Thomas, this is Teresa. He was going crazy. He was actually going crazy. It was the oldest and most common symptom -- hearing voices in your head. ‘Uh...’, he said aloud. Is this working? Is this working? The last words landed between his eyes like a thunderbolt. The pain knocked his legs out from under him and he collapsed onto the floor. Never had the world felt so fluid beneath him, as if nothing solid existed, no form, no substance“ (Ch.20 , pg. 112, FC). So first things first, Thomas hates it when he gets a mind message, he feels extreme pain when someone tries it, this is recurrent throughout the series. He has told her a few times not to contact him through that method, but it's their little secret and besides, if he told anyone who would believe him? “Teresa shrugged. ‘You didn’t tell anyone, did you? They’d think we’re crazy“(Ch.36, Maze Runner). So we have a situation where Teresa has a huge way of overpowering Thomas, she can send images to his head without his consent and yell into his mind even if it means it hurts him. And the kicker? She doesn’t teach him how to use it on purpose. And when he tries to contact her? Well depending on her mood she can either be flirty or... well this: “Teresa? A pause. Teresa? A longer pause. Teresa! He shouted it mentally, his whole body tensing with effort. Teresa! Where are you? Please answer me! Why aren’t you trying to contact me? Ter- /GET OUT OF MY HEAD!/ The words exploded inside his mind, so vivid and so strangely audible within his skull that he felt lances of pain behind his eyes and in his ears. He sat up in bed, then stood. It was her. It was definitely her. Teresa? He pressed the first two fingers of both hands against his temples. Teresa? /WHOEVER YOU ARE , GET OUT OF MY SHUCK HEAD!/ Thomas stumbled backward until he sat down once again on the bed. His eyes were closed as he concentrated. Teresa, what are you talking about? It’s me. Thomas. Where are you? /SHUT UP!/ It was her, he had no doubt, but her mental voice was full of fear and anger /JUST SHUT UP! I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE! LEAVE ME ALONE!/ But, Thomas began completely at a loss [...] /LEAVE ME ALONE, OR I’LL HUNT YOU DOWN AND CUT YOUR THROAT. I SWEAR IT. “ (Ch.8, FC). *sarcasm* ah yes, nothing says true love like a death threat that actually comes to near fruition later in that same book and pretending to not know that person only to later, upon meeting Thomas acting like a sobbing mess, kiss him and disappear...she sure knew him then huh? *end of sarcasm* Having a power imbalance in a relationship is, you know, not good, especially when you’re making it so you gaslight the person anytime they know something you don’t want them to or to have control over the situation. Teresa does this OFTEN. To the point that it makes Thomas so emotionally attached to her he finds it hard to admit he doesn’t need her, even when he’s been badly hurt. 

 Part 2: Your past does not excuse your bad actions in the present. Period.

Now let me clear something up, PAST ABUSE does not CONDONE you to HURT OTHERS in turn, let alone allows you to use it as an excuse to justify wrong actions. I am aware Teresa, aka Deedee, was abandoned due to an outbreak of the flare at an early age; had her name changed, was confined to a room with Thomas as her only friend who was the same age as her, and openly manipulated by adults to believe WCKD is good. But you know who else goes through the same treatment? LITERALLY EVERY KID EXPOSED TO THIS EXPERIMENT! AND THEY DON’T THREATEN EACH OTHER IF THEY DON’T GET THEIR WAY OR KILL EACH OTHER. And this is not said in order to justify that everyone with the same experiences will have the same reactions, I understand stressors and trauma affect everyone differently and acknowledge everyone needs a different support system. But like, for peeps sake, Thomas who is Teresa’s exact foil as a narrative play to show that they are more alike than they realize which is the flimsiest proof to grab at as to why they need each other to an extent; literally has the exact same story cut and paste from her and he has more empathy and compassion to those around him, than Teresa ever shows. WHY? If the idea is to show Teresa has hardened from her own experiences, she should in theory act more like Brenda, a renegade civilian that isn’t soft for anyone except the boy who will save her. I know in my explanation I compare Thomas and Teresa a lot, but it's hard not to when Teresa, though having Aris as another buddy who is also in on the whole WCKD scheme, still decides to CLING to Thomas to be her saving grace. And the thing is, even if she only ever trusted Thomas in this whole experiment, then why not confide in him or tell him what is happening? She doesn’t LISTEN to anything he says to her in turn. YES, Teresa knows more about the situation as a whole, YES she is capable of doing things by herself, but she never trusts anyone. You’d think she would be more open to talking to the kids her age or be the quiet type because she knows what will happen to them all if they don’t comply; but no, I can’t even describe her personality other than stoic one moment and complete chaos in the next, and she does that switch VERY often. But sure, she prefers to skew half truths and put everyone in danger because ….WCKD? She’s supposed to be the intellectual one and she doesn’t know how to spread her capabilities, no wonder Brenda is introduced in the second book.

It's also incomprehensible to me why she feels it necessary to follow WCKD in general when she was the first to know of all their evil doings? “They were at the door when Teresa stopped and asked Dr. Leavitt a question. Two, actually. And it was enough to change the man’s demeanor completely. ‘What’s a swipe trigger? And is it true that seven kids died during the implant surgeries?’ The questions stunned Thomas. He turned to look at Teresa as the doctor fumbled for an answer. ‘How...’ the man began, then stopped, realizing at the same moment what Thomas did: Teresa had stumbled on something major. Something true”(Ch. 9, pg.54, FC). You’d think she would have the maturity to one up WCKD and knock them from the inside out to save the one she “loves'' but she doesn’t, instead she abides by the facility...even when knowing they are the ones who made the Flare in the first place. Call me naïve, but wouldn’t it make sense that if she wants to help stop the Flare than it would be in her best interest to hold Ava at an inch of her life (and Ratman) until she fesses up how to reverse the Flare, only to then realize oops there never was a possibility for a cure ~, but in knowing this finally be rid of the one thing holding her back? Again, someone can argue that hey, she thinks the people who made it HAVE to eventually find the termination and either way what possible choice does she have when her own manipulators control her? But remember, in the end it's always been a huge experiment to eliminate the human populace, and that's motive enough to rebel and/or snap at the hand that feeds when it's gone too far. EVERYONE has a breaking point mentally and physically, THOMAS BREAKS DOWN SEVERAL TIMES IN THE SPAN OF THE SERIES BECAUSE HE CAN’T MAKE SENSE OF THE EXPERIMENTS AND THE REASON TO CONTINUE SURVIVING ONLY ON WCKDS TERMS. And it drives me insane that Teresa would openly keep the Gladers from knowing about their procedures when she has known the longest from everyone else! Oh? You want evidence that Teresa keeps her memories intact and lies about ever losing them, sure! Here, have a morsel: “Teresa..., he started to say, but then stumbled a void. He had no idea how to respond. Did you....did you already know this stuff? /I’ve heard rumors./ And you never told me? He was stunned. How could she have known this and never said anything? She was his best friend. The first person he went to with everything. /I just don’t see the point. Yes, we have reason to hate these people. But how is dwelling on the past going to help anybody? The solution is what matters./ Thomas had never been so blindsided in his life.../I’m really tired, Tom. Can we talk about it tomorrow?/ She was gone from his mind before he could respond [...] The next day Teresa refused to talk about it, emphasizing that she’d rather focus on the future than the past Dr. Paige also blew it off, saying that those decisions had been made well before her time. it was almost like they were both determined to forget” (Ch. 43, pg. 239, FC). TALK ABOUT BECOMING THE ONE THING THAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO OVERCOME. Like goodness sake, Teresa was part of the prep and launch of putting each Glader into the Maze and she never doubted it, never fussed over how this was bad. The excuse of “this is for their own good, my own good, and the world’s” can only go so far when you are in an environment that is full of violence and trauma, you expect me to not believe Teresa just never broke down and truly analyzed how she can use her lies to one up her own abusers? She’s supposed to be this “empowering” female character and she can’t even get THAT right. 

Part 3: How come the films did it better?

The film actually humanizes her a lot more and makes her motives at least justifiable in a fit of protecting the one you love. I know a lot of people dislike her character in the movies because it's more frail and sympathetic, but it was a very good way to justify her motives and plan out her actions from point A to point B. What do I mean by that? Let's take a look. Film Teresa enters the Maze without the ability to communicate to Thomas through telepathy, she still has her memories and she is still in close contact with WCKD, that much is still the same. Her motive though is to get everyone out of the maze and into stage 2 where the facility can round up the ones who have been viewed to be immune through the Maze Trials. So far so good, but pretty on par with the book right? Well, here is where it differs for the best. On the last act of Scorch, Teresa tells Thomas WITH SENTIMENT, no more lies and no more hiding that she contacted WCKD because it was needed to keep Thomas alive and well. WOW, notice how she doesn’t emotionally manipulate him and her innocent nature of trusting the scientists of her world to cure everyone actually leads her to be more sympathetic and relatable to the audience? In Death Cure, she doesn’t expect Thomas or ANYONE to forgive her for her actions and in fact takes her actions at face value. This Teresa is more understanding of the phrase “You can change, but those you’ve wronged have no obligation to forgive you” than book Teresa ever will. To the point that when she finds Thomas in the city and has bore witness to the startling realization that there indeed could be no cure cause her patient flares back up; of which is intentionally a little girl to reflect without showing that she can relate to the Flare stripping away her childhood, she then betrays WCKD by allowing the Gladers to infiltrate the facility, thus redeeming her when she dies in the explosion. Thus, making her in the film's eyes an anti-hero. As Skquill once told me, “Film teresa really did want to create a better future, and wanted to help people and that's what I like about film teresa. It didn't work. It literally blew up in her face. But, she tried, and she saved Thomas in the end.”

The only reason I don’t like Teresa even in the film is because she is kind of a wet blanket there, barely expresses any emotion beyond stoic token girl that cries sometimes, and she could’ve saved herself the whole betrayal arc if she just learned to better communicate her intentions instead of sobbing pathetically every time no one wants anything to do with her for her ill doings.Not to mention she still maintains her personality to a degree from the book (just call her diet Teresa really) because once both enter the sequence in Scorch where they ran out of pawns to move around they claim that they did what they had to do and they wouldn’t change a thing, they’d do it again if they could. It is only when both are at death’s door with no other choice that they give in some noble sacrifice at a chance for redemption, which is well too little too late. And in the opposing corner of knowing some people blame Thomas for not just allowing himself to be experimented on since the beginning, my rebuttal to be fair is that Teresa just again, sucked at explaining herself and the intentions of WCKD until it was deserving of a literal showdown bloodbath that evidently Tommy boy had to take defense to and threaten his life if anyone else died due to miscommunications. ALSO, IT'S HIS OWN BODY, HE CAN DO WHAT HE WANTS WITH IT INSTEAD OF HAVING OTHERS DICTATE WHAT HE NEEDS TO DO.

BUT ANYWAYS, book Teresa in comparison has even less characterization, I am sorry to say. SHE'S BARELY IN SCORCH AS IS, only coming out toward the climax because before that she is crying and kissing Thomas before going MIA for 45 chapters. Ouch. And when she does appear? She purposefully causes trouble that leads to essentially no where, we could’ve gotten to the safe haven way sooner without her interference.

Part 4: Is Book Teresa a good female character?

 The simple answer? No.

The slightly longer answer? Even if I were to place her as the villain of the story she’s...not that good? Mostly because again, she acts as a puppet for a rich, governmental organization that basically implants how she should think and act. YET, somehow she is still smart, brave, lethal, and *ahem* UNBELIEVABLY BEAUTIFUL WITH HER LONG HAIR THAT IS BASICALLY DESCRIBED THE EXACT SAME WAY AS BRENDA’S, WHO FYI IS THE SLIGHTLY BETTER FEMALE LEAD THAT STILL CAN’T HOLD A COIN TO SONYA OR HARRIET (the background characters) THOUGH. I also need to say plainly, she has no gradual growth, she remains by her ideals and thinks she's right constantly in all but one book...which is one book too late and thus made meaningless. By no means is Teresa a mary sue, yet she still manages to be a stereotype in Maze Runner: “If you’re going to decipher a hidden code from a complex set of different mazes, I’m pretty sure you’ll need a girl’s brain running the show”(ch.43); then again going most of the book in Scorch missing, and then unceremoniously gets crushed by a boulder in Death Cure as her final hurrah for all the bs she caused isn’t really a means to become a memorable character. This is the female supportive character I’m supposed to relate to and or praise for her dastardly, cunning intellect?  If I were looking for a strong female with various flaws and a tragic end I would saunter over to Hunger Games’ Katniss instead. Teresa fails as a character the moment that her sole purpose is to be so emotionally/physically attached to Thomas that her whole character gets washed down the gutter so badly that Kill Order had to be made to justify her actions through a tragic backstory. In no way or form was I able to entertain this character as a favorite because she is everything I don’t want to be or befriend, and even as again, a “villain” she doesn’t exactly do much as the real masterminds are Ava and her cronies who MADE the disease and the trials. Even going as far as calling her an anti-hero feels off because none of her actions deliberately affect the plot or progress of our main character’s story. But that's kind of the thing with D*shner’s characterization of females overall? They’re either brutish or simply there. I don’t think any of them even pass the Bechdel Test. 

Final thoughts:

I don’t like Teresa, I would personally fight her in a Denny’s parking lot at 3am if I could. I recall saying multiple times how she should just “shut up” as I read Maze and Scorch because most of her quotes are not memorable nor important. But in no way do I blame the character for the angst and tragedy of the novels overall. D*shner just...doesn’t seem to know how to make honest character growth and a decent plot, thus, in turn the story and its leads suffer tremendously as the narrative gets stretched out. (me yelling in the distance about how Crank Palace was made for clout). HOWEVER, In no way should my analysis stop people from finding Teresa as interesting or “cool”, I actually ENCOURAGE anyone that stans her to explain why to me because I personally don’t understand why beyond thinking “I just think she's chaotically evil and her treachery is fun to witness”. COOL IF THAT'S THE REASON OR EVEN IF YOU RE-WROTE HER TO BE BETTER! I just personally don't find her presence necessary for plot progression or as a love interest in general. It in fact sucks that she gets essentially replaced by Brenda almost as soon as the opportunity arises. In turn though, for others who don’t like her either as much as me, feel free to add onto this post any other “Teresa sucks and here's why” moments as I know there's a lot of moments out there to quote or paraphrase. Thanks for reading~

[lovelivingmydreams]

@Meowthefluffy Zombie au au chapter 2

A happy belated birthday to you @meowthefluffy hope you enjoy it.

They had found themselves a safe space in the library. There was an underground parking to hide the car, the windows were high up so while it was well lit no one on the outside would spot movement and they could collect some books to help them survive. Knowledge and skill was crucial. Languages, knots, engineering… Anything that could help them out later. Virgil knew sign language, Janus knew French and Roman knew Spanish. They decided that to be safe they should each learn one additional language. Janus picked mandarin, Virgil Russian and Roman took Arabic. Roman had been very timid ever since they lost the horde. And Virgil hadn’t been exactly eager to talk to him. “V- Virgil? Can we talk?” Roman whispered. Virgil didn’t answer, nor did he look up from under the hood. He was checking over their car to see how long it would last them and what parts would need replacing soon. He wondered if they could make it to the shop to gather supplies for maintenance. “Listen… I understand that you are angry with me…” “Do you?” Virgil snapped as he finally got up, oil smeared over his cheeks, cleaning off his hands with a cloth he shoves in his pocket. He crosses his arms over his chest staring down at Roman. He’s definitely mad. “Because I don’t think you do. We’ve talked about how I feel about consent. But you go ahead and kiss me without so much as a warning! And then you plan to just go off so I can feel guilty and like a crappy person for the rest of my life? Are you that selfish?” Virgil seethed. Roman cringed. He did know. They’d talked about it plenty of times while watching movies. Virgil was not a fan of the ‘confess your love by kissing them without warning’ trope. “I was a coward, I know. It shouldn’t have taken the end of civilization and certain death for me to confess to you. But… I knew you’d be disgusted by me and I just…” “There’s another thing. We’ve been friends since before I can remember. You really think that little off me that I’d feel different about you just because of that?” Virgil growled. Roman looked up surprised. “But… You always laugh when people make those jokes… And…” “And that was wrong of me. I can own up to that. But you never said anything to imply you found them anything other than funny yourself. Has it occurred to you that I might do that for the same reason?” That… Roman hadn’t thought of that. “And didn’t I always come to your defense when people thought you were to girly? What did I say about that?” Virgil pointed out. “That… That I’m a different kind of manly. Like a prince…” Roman recalled. “Hence me calling you princey since kindergarten!” Virgil huffed. Roman’s head was spinning. Trying to make sense of everything he was hearing. “But you’re… You mean you’re…” Virgil was straight right? He did everything right. He rode a motorcycle, wore leather, worked on cars, liked aggressive music and guns… Sure he also wore make up but in a cool way.

Virgil shrugged. “I’ve been questioning myself for a while, I’m not sure. I don’t know how I feel about a lot of stuff right now. At this point I wanna see if either of our families are still around and make it so that we all live.” He stared Roman down again. “All of us. You are not allowed to die on me Roman. Understood? I’m pissed as hell. But that doesn’t change that I’ll keep you safe. Got it?” Roman’s heart went a thousand miles a minute. Virgil was right. With the end of the world hanging over their heads, this wasn’t the time to sort out this mess he’d gotten them in. But one thing was sure. Virgil didn’t hate him because of how he felt. He was mad about what he did and almost did though. And that was fair. If the roles were reversed he probably wouldn’t have been very happy about it either. But things could still be fixed. Maybe. “Yes… I’ll… See if I can put something together for us to eat,” he muttered softly. “There’s some supplies in the trunk. Use the perishables first,” Virgil instructed. Roman nodded. “Right… Good idea,” he said softly as he moved to the trunk and gathered some things to cook a decent meal for three. “I’m really sorry for hurting you Virgil… I just wanted to protect you for once,” he told him before disappearing back inside. Days turned into weeks and Roman had a hard time. Virgil’s anger at him subsided. Roman even woke up a few times finding that Virgil had moved closer to him either in his sleep or due to waking up from a nightmare. And when they were awake he slowly started to relax around him again. Roman wasn’t sure if he was waiting for him to make another move on him or to pull another heroic stunt, but he was slowly trusting that he wouldn’t. Janus was… He was clever. A master strategist, if Roman was completely honest. And he was handsome.  And charming.  And flirty. Towards both of them. But mostly Virgil. And that made Roman nervous. Because what if it wasn’t him but Janus who’d made Virgil question whether he was entirely, strictly into girls? Roman is too insecure to ask. They didn’t find their families. They decided to assume that they got out and were somewhere safe until proven otherwise. If only for their own piece of mind. Virgil recovered his tools from the shop, as well as some extra weapons and ammunition. They managed to raid a few homes and even an apothecary for first aid kits and medicines. Roman held a meticulous catalogue of all their perishable supplies. When Janus hinted at Virgil that he could give him CPR anytime, Virgil calmly deflected him and said that Roman would be the one playing nurse if any of them wanted to survive. “Though you might need to teach me some of the basics soon. I don’t want you to die cause I don’t know how to save you,” he’d added softly. Roman had blushed and nodded. Feeling hopeful that he was getting close to being forgiven. Then one night he woke up and found Virgil sitting at the window of the abandoned classroom they were hiding in for the night. Janus was sleeping. They must’ve switched watch recently. “V?” Roman whispered. They had to talk again. He needed to know where they stood. “You should be asleep Ro. You have three more hours until your shift,” Virgil said softly. Virgil always took the middle watch. Never allowing himself 8 consecutive hours. Roman and Janus both had tried to convince him to switch it up. But Virgil was adamant. Janus took first, Virgil second and Roman third. Virgil claimed that that way they’d all have breakfast waiting when they woke up. But Roman suspected Virgil didn’t want to disrupt his sleeping schedule if he didn’t want to. Ever since they were little, Roman had more trouble staying up late than getting up early. He’d loved getting up early actually. Sunrise was his favorite. Virgil and him had slept under the stars a few times. The only times Roman had managed to stay awake and alert for most of the night. It was almost sunrise when they finally went to bed. “I can’t… We need to talk,” Roman insisted. Virgil looked back. “I guess we do,” he sighed reluctantly. Roman went to sit with Virgil and looked out over the playground. “Are you still angry?” he asked. “… I’m still scared Roman,” Virgil answered finally. “I haven’t been angry with you for weeks. But I’m scared you will do something stupid and I won’t be able to protect you. I was… I froze last time. What if I freeze again and lose you without even trying to stop you?” Roman was shocked to find that Virgil’s eyes were filling with tears. “How do I live with myself if I lose the most important person in my life like that?” he asked. It was hard, trying not to be happy that Virgil said that. But the love of his life was in pain and Roman would be damned if he didn’t take that pain away. “Virgil, I did what I did because I knew you’d freeze up. You always do when you get dropped in unexpected situations. I knew that… That would shake you up enough to let me go. I used my feelings for you and what I knew about you to do what I thought was right. I regret doing that… I’m sorry Virgil. I…” Before Roman could continue he was pulled into a tight hug. “Promise me we’ll stick together from now on. Ok? No matter what you think is best for me. We’re a team alright?” Roman let himself melt into the embrace and nodded into Virgil’s chest. “Ok,” he said softly. The next month things seemed to go back to what would be normal for them under the circumstances if they’d never had a fight. They joked and teased and Virgil was comfortable with showing physical affection again. Roman was even warming up to Janus, who told him that while he enjoyed flirting and everything, he wasn’t very interested in dating of any kind. “Virgil and I have this game we’re playing, but I don’t care much about winning. He’s all yours your highness.” Being friends was much easier after that. There were scary moments. Stray zombies in what they thought was a clear building. Sometimes they found people who’d been infected and locked themselves away to give their family time to escape. But those situations were easily dealt with. The hordes were harder. Luckily they were rare. Only loud noises and bright lights attracted them and they tried their best to avoid both. But sometimes an engine would backfire or an animal would get spooked and make a ruckus escaping.

They didn’t encounter other survivors often. Usually at a distance and it seemed an unspoken agreement to not approach each other. It was the best way to avoid misunderstanding. It was Virgil’s birthday. Roman had done his best to keep track of time and been counting the days to do something nice for him. So he gathered the right ingredients and made the closest approximation to Virgil’s favorite pasta he could. They found themselves in a restaurant, as if the universe agreed to cut them a break and so Roman found the right spices and some unopened tubes of tomato concentrate. They obviously didn’t have ground beef but Janus had gotten good at providing them with fresh meat. Virgil nearly strangled the both of them when he realized what that smell was. The dinner was interrupted by a knocking at the door. It was soft, and rhythmic. Nothing like the way a zombie would sound. Virgil, naturally, took point and stalked towards the door. They all got ready to react if their visitor was hostile. “Good evening… Say, I haven’t smelled anything that good in ages. Mind if I join?”

[shintorikhazumi]

Yet Again (5): “Is dinner ready yet?”

A/N: I think y’all had the wrong idea about Diana’s words and Kotone and being with Akko. Everyone means everyone y’all. Kotone included.

I’ve been buried in school, so I definitely can’t do my long fics ;-; rip. Been trying tho.

Anywho, Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

"I never really understood why we didn't move back sooner, mum." Kotone carried a box down the mansion's hall towards the guest rooms, walking in step with one of her mothers.

"Can you really say that when you've only just graduated from the academy? I've also had my share of responsibilities at Luna Nova. There was never really... a good enough reason to come back and stay. Except for the usual maintenance checks for the property."

"Hmm..."

"Anyway, Kotone,"

The girl turned her head to Diana, silently telling her to go on. Diana didn't know why it was suddenly so difficult to speak. Maybe it was Kotone's nonchalance at the moment, her innocent reaction? towards the situation they were in? Was it her calmness that contrasted all Diana's worries that unnerved the Cavendish matriarch?

"Mum?" Kotone reached a hand out, shaking her mother by the shoulder in concern.

"Bringing you here with us..." Diana finally spoke. "-you really don't mind?"

She knew her face was an open book, revealing to her daughter all her troubled feelings and thoughts. When she told Beatrix that she would stay, and that 'everyone' would be a part of this experience with Akko, she had immediately decided in her mind to bring everyone involved in this situation to the manor to make things easier. But "immediately deciding" for everyone had meant that she planned on stringing everyone along, her own daughter included, without due knowledge and consent.

Only now had she begun to wonder whether or not this was selfishness on her part. With those thoughts in place, it made it all the more surprising to see her family and friends' willingness to join Akko and herself. It moved her in ways unimaginable.

Yet... she still wondered if it was alright for them to go along with them. This wasn't something that directly affected most of them. If anything, it was more of a problem of Diana's and Akko's. Why would they...

"I was- no... I am happy. That you brought me home, Mum." Kotone placed the box down on the ground before wrapping her arms around her mother, and Diana wondered just when did her little girl get so big. She was almost as tall as Diana. “And Home is wherever you and Mama are.”

Diana willed the tears away. ‘Kotone... who raised you to be so wonderful?’

Still, Diana’s anxieties had the better of her.

"But... What about your friends? What about the things you'd like to do? Leaving all of the things and people you've known for so long... the plans you must have already made. You're a full-fledged adult as well. Surely you had other things in mind and I-... Oh! Didn't you say you wanted to study further at the-"

"Mum."

"Y-yes?"

Kotone sighed.

"First of all, my friends and I... we all know that we wanted to do different things with our magic. We have different dreams and that's okay. Wasn't it the same for you all too? You working at Luna Nova while Aunt Han and Aunt Amanda applied as attendants to the royal family. Aunt Lotte has her boutique, and Aunt Barbara is an ambassador for the witches."

"I suppose... you are correct."

"I am."

Diana found herself chuckling at this confidence, ruffling her daughter's hair. Oh, just where had she gotten this prideful trait from? This sureness in herself?

"As for what I want to do, well..." Kotone hummed as Diana waited nervously. "I haven't really decided, haha." Kotone gave her mother a squeeze. "I just said I'd study further because I didn't really know. Is that so bad?" She looked up at her mother, eyes questioning.

"No. It's not bad at all. Everyone has there own story, dream, and path to walk. You have only just begun in your journey." Diana smiled tenderly. Kotone so easily put her worries to rest, comforting her just like that.

"And anyway! If studying is what I've chosen to do, wouldn't it be the best to study under- and alongside- one of the best professors in the industry?" She grinned at her mother, and Diana had to roll her eyes at that, pinching her daughter's nose.

"Sweet talker."

"Chariot du Nord! Also Professor Croix. I never got to attend her classes since she stopped teaching. The older students said her class was so cool!"

Cheeky little-

"Also, it's not everyday you get taught by one of the Legendary Olde Nine! Mom, you never really let me meet Great Grandma Beatrix before!!!"

"...g-great grandm-"

"I met her yesterday after we unpacked! When I went to see Mama."

"You've already gone to see Ak-... how did you even find...?"

"The succession ceremony shrine."

Diana flinched. Had it actually already occurred? Did Diana just miss an actual milestone in her daughter's life yet again-

"It's not what you think, Mum. I didn't have it. Not yet, at least." Kotone stepped back from the embrace, holding onto Diana's hands. "I plan on following in your steps, Mum." She stated, determined.

Diana felt joy and pride swell up within her at the sight of her child. Serious, sincere, and very much worthy.

"I just don't think I'm ready for that yet." She gave a little laugh. "Oh, but if you're wondering how I found it, Ivory took me there the other day for some reason."

Ivory. Kotone's unicorn summon and familiar. One of the guardian’s of the Cavendish Household, and a symbol of their lineage.

Maybe that succession ceremony wasn't as far off as they'd assumed.

"I see."

"Oh, there you are. Thanks for helping out with our things, Diana, Kotone."

"Hi, Aunt Lotte!" Kotone turned to greet the new arrival before handing Lotte the box with the woman's belongings.

Diana hadn't realized they had arrived outside the guest rooms, mind having been preoccupied the entire walk there.

"It's no trouble. I was the one who asked for your help, after all. And really," She chuckled, reaching out to ruffle her daughter's hair. "I have a healthy sidekick to do all the heavy lifting for me."

"Hey!"

They all shared a laugh at that, only interrupted by a loud grumbling stomach.

"Kotone..."

"Wha-That wasn't me!" The youngest flushed, pouting at her mother's teasing.

"My bad." Sucy suddenly came out into the hallway, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. "Is dinner ready yet?"

"Sucy!!!" Lotte pinched her cheek. "Could you at least be a little more courteous in other people's homes?"

"It's fine Lotte." Diana laughed. "I'll admit, it's getting a little late. What do you say we head off to the dining room? Afterwards, I'll-"

"Bring food to Mama? Can I come?" Kotone suddenly exclaimed, excited. Really, for how big she'd already gotten, she still could act like the most precious little child in Diana's eyes.

"Of course." Diana smiled. "I wonder if that private session has finished yet..."

//-//-//-//-//

{Atsuko. Please focus.}

"I'm trying."

{I know.}

"I can't-"

{You have to.}

"Hey Beatrix?"

{Speak.}

"...H-How long do you think we-"

{That is not something I can answer yet.}

"...I didn't even finish the question..." Akko muttered, opening her eyes with a sigh and looking to her current mentor staring right back at her. But really, Beatrix had read her worries as though she were an open book. 

{We've only just begun, Kagari Atsuko. Do not assume the worst until you've exhausted all efforts for the best.}

"...right."

{Now. Focus.}

“Okay.” Akko closed her eyes once more, running the spell through her head a few more times. Actually, she had another question. “Hey, Beat-”

{Focus.}

“I just-”

{Atsuko.}

“Okay! okay! Sheesh... I was just wondering...” Akko grumbled, eyes squeezing shut again, feeling a familiar churning in her stomach.

'Ugh... Is dinner ready yet?'

{Focus.}

"...hai."

[kneamet]

Angel of cards (16/16)

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere, madness.

Summary: Joker, Mr. J, anarchist psychopath, Tom Hiddleston. He had many nicknames. Joker was Gotham’s most dangerous and insightful man, with sharp makeup and horribly memorable scars on his face in the form of a smile. He was absolutely crazy and deadly. No one knows his real identity and everyone is afraid of his cruel jokes. But what happens when he becomes obsessed with an ordinary girl?

She belongs to him. No one can take her away from him. Even The Batman. 

Chapter Sixteen: reality or...?

“Did I say something funny?" a stern but slightly perplexed voice asked from the left. Tom just smiled, closing his eyes and moving his strong shoulders up.

He blinked a couple of times and went back to counting the number of tiles on the floor. His thoughts were now trying to focus on what he had been thinking earlier. What was it about? What happened?

"You won't understand," he said again, snapping his fingers.

The voice sounded familiar earlier. Quiet, melodic, calm and as sweet as possible. It sounded familiar. Very familiar. Too familiar.

It was like a voice... an angel. An angel. His angel. His Blake. His favorite angel named Blake. But what, what's going on? Is he dreaming again? What if it wasn't her? What if it was someone else trying to imitate the voluptuous voice of his angel?

It must be some kind of impostor. Definitely yes. He's dreaming all this. Dreaming. Dreaming.

He quickly raised his blue eyes to the person who, judging by the voice, was a girl, up. Indeed, his angel was sitting in front of him. Oh, what a hedgehog she was now beautiful.

Her light brown hair lay softly on her light and weak shoulders. They were cut to the length of the shoulders, which is strange. Did she get her hair cut? Got a haircut? Without his knowledge? Without his consent?

They were a couple! A couple! So why didn't she respect his opinions?!

Tom felt his brows furrow as he continued to study his angel in front of him. Her smooth nose, her beautiful brown eyes that could have been drowned in, looked at him with disbelief and incomprehension at the moment. Thin lips that were slightly parted. Oh, that's so sweet.

However, he did not understand one thing. Why was she wearing a doctor's suit? Some kind of white long robe, and indeed the very room in which he was, did not cause him ardent and pleasant emotions. It was made in white colors. White walls, white, but with small flecks of light green color. The white chair he was currently sitting on and, of course, the white table in front of them.

"Angel," Tom muttered, beginning to giggle slightly and roll his eyes as he tried to reach out to his beloved, shiny, beautiful angel.

"Mr. Hiddleston..." Oh, what a nice voice she has. He would have listened to it all the time. This is too, impossibly exciting. How can you be so innocent and exciting at the same time

The answer to that question was his angel. How lovely she is. However, he didn't like the look in her eyes. Frowning, stern, slightly arrogant. There was a note in it... fear? Is his angel afraid of him? What for? Why? Hadn't he given her everything she'd asked for?

His angel arched an eyebrow and only curled her lips in slight disdain. Contempt? Does she feel contempt for him? What happened? He doesn't recognize his angel!

Suddenly Tom, having plucked up the courage, but still not understanding what was happening and not understanding the behavior of his angel, stood up in an uncomfortable white chair and instantly, quickly, like lightning, slipped to his angel, who was looking at him with great misunderstanding.

Tom saw the look in her eyes. He felt his heart skip a beat. No, does she really not understand?

The man only tightened his grip on her arms, lifting them above her head and leaning against the white wall. He could feel his angel trying to pull away. Does she really not like this? Why would she resist him?

"My angel, it's me — Tom. I'm Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom. The one your favorite is!"

"Get away from me, you fucking lunatic!" his angel screamed, once again trying to escape from Tom's captivity.

But why?! He wanted to howl. Why? Didn't she remember him? But how is this possible?

Why did she call him crazy? Him! Him! It! The man who had done everything for her!

"Help!" his angel shouted again, to which Tom simply shushed her, covering her lovely lips, which were kissing so well with his big free hand.

"Hush, my angel, hush!" said Tom, feeling his angel's rapid breathing. He could feel her undisguised fear. He knew that she was afraid of him at the moment. He knew her, and he deliberately put psychological pressure on her. Oh, how nice.

Suddenly, however, his peripheral vision caught a small movement to his right. A slight creaking sound caught his ear. Hell, someone had noticed them. Or else he came running at the call of his angel.

His eyes moved feverishly over his angel. He didn't know what to do. I had to improvise. He licked his lips and didn't feel the familiar scars that had always graced his face. What happened? Where are they? Instead, he felt the usual, for all the people, very thin lips.

The man looked up, as his gaze had previously been directed at the floor, and did not see his beloved angel. He felt his hands begin to shake. He looked to his left in panic as his angel closed the door behind him. It was visible through the small window of his old room.

He quickly rushed to the door and began to knock on it with quick movements. One, two, three. One, two, three. Why the hell aren't they opening it? He could see the tears welling up in his angel's eyes in fright.

Oh, no, don't cry. He didn't like to see her sad. He did not like her small and bitter tears. Then Tom made himself want to cry.

He slowly knelt down and leaned his back against the large steel door. Suddenly, a laugh would come out of his mouth. Crazy laughter. Hysterical laughter.

Thomas grabbed his short, surprisingly short hair and squeezed it tightly in his calloused hands. Where are his scars? He started pulling his hair back hard, feeling some of the ends break off. My hands were shaking. My heart was beating very fast.

"I'll get her back," he muttered to himself in a halting voice and taking many sharp breaths and incessantly. My breath caught in my throat. "I'll get her back. I'll get her back! We'll be together, " they'll be together. Together forever, as it should have been originally. "Together-together-together! mine-mine-mine!"

His eyes were wild.

[thetravelingmaster]

Do you consider your mind control fantasies to be rape? Does it help or hurt if you do think of them as rape or non-consentual?

I’m incredibly glad you  sent me this asks Anon. Thank you!

Before I answer, I would like to remind EVERYONE that I write, as you said, FANTASY. I would never condone such behavior in real life as you may have read in other posts I made on the subject of non-consent. SO! The short answers are: 

Are some of my stories rape? 

Technically YES. But also, not quite.

Are some of my stories non-consent? 

No technically here - Very much yes.

Does thinking about them as rape or non-consent help or hurt my writing? 

It always helps because as I write, I always keep in mind what type of story I want it to be. 

Now, these are complex questions for me so let me go ahead and add to that.

Long answer to Are some of my stories rape?

Technically yes because subverting someone’s mind into doing things they did not agree to is rape. Pure and simple. But I also say not quite because I don’t write them in the main theme of rape and rape fantasies. 

Rape fantasies revolve, mainly, around the act of forcing someone into doing what you wish. So yes, my mind control stories have that aspect of course. But there is a stronger theme in rape fantasy, for the dominant, where there is the satisfaction and sexual gratification of seeing the victim beg and plead for them to stop. The cries of pain... Of emotional scares he/she is inflicting on their victim. They get off on the knowledge that they hold all the power and get off on seeing the painful helplessness of their victim. 

Of course, this is dangerously close to the power trip ones feel for the control a mind control or hypnotist gains over their sub. But the difference, to me, is in how they view the act. A rapist sees their target as victims. As Mind controllers or Masters/Mistress sees their target as submissives. 

As many of you may have notice, I almost never write stories to indulge the victim side of the non-consent. I always strives to ‘force’, when the story clear fall in the ‘rape’ category, the sub to feel tremendous amount of pleasure. I personally don’t get off on the victimization and cries for help and it shows in my stories. The ‘rape’ in my stories is to force someone to like something they didn’t want to like in the first place. The goal of these ‘rape’ styles stories is to force the desired target to reach a point where their minds accept and embrace the desires of the Master. 

So yes, it is definitely rape because it includes the spirit of rape. But I also believe most of my ‘rape’ stories don’t dive into the into the bad emotions of rape. (I know I’m walking a fine line here, rape is rape and I know.)

Long answer to Are some of my stories non-consent?

Non-Consent... The very essence and spirit of rape. I feel like I should part with a bit of my own personal experience here. Like many young shy and awkward man, I spent my teenage years mostly isolated from girls in general, which made me desire them from afar. 

As many of your that discovered their kink through movies and tv shows, I suddenly realized how incredible it would be to have to power to hypnotize or compel the beautiful women into going out with me. And of course, fucking me!

This desire to be able to live out fantasies with any and all of the beautiful woman I saw around is what spawn my kink. It is at the very core of my writing and I always feel it there when I create scenes. So yes, as I young man, I fantasized about ‘raping’ the girls around me. BUT! I never fantasied about physically forcing them to take my cock.

I always fantasized about taking control of theirs minds and yes... Forcing their minds to see things like I wanted them to. But even back then, I got off on the conversion and submission I would figuratively force on them. The control... 

My more romantic side would also revel in the fantasy of compelling love and devotion into those beautiful woman. Which is apparent in some of my stories.

I believe a psychologist could have a lot of fun breaking down my desires and motivations... But that’s not here or there.

The main thing I want to make clear here is that the rape and non-consent I write about is not aimed to harm the victims physically or emotionally. The whole goal behind my kink is to avoid it all together and subvert the sub without pain or emotional trauma.

Which, in part, I feel goes against the theme of rape, but definitely falls squarely into the non-consent category.

I think I could write about this subject for pages, but I think I’ll stop here. Hypnosis and mind control fantasy can be as pink as you desire while also being as dark as your filthiest dreams. I definitely don’t condone none consent and rape or abuse in the real world. IT IS VERY WRONG. But I write fantasy...

And in the world of fantasy, anything is possible.

I hope this answers your question and please don’t hesitate if you have follow up questions. 

The Traveling Master

[nona-gay-simus-main]

Top 10 Worst Romance Tropes - Part 1

It’s Valentine’s Day and that means it’s time to talk about romance. Specifically, shitty romances. Woo!

Disclaimer: This list is just my personal preference, and I don’t want to fight with anyone about it. You do you, boo. 

I’ve also tried to avoid things that have been talked to death like romanticizing abuse or love triangles because I want to keep things original. There’s also definitely going to be a part two to this post since I came up with so many terrible tropes.

And third, but not last: this list specifically pertains to the genre Romance (whether paranormal, fantasy, etc. the point is that the romance is the main plot or at least half the plot). There will be a separate list for romantic subplots in other genres.

1. The Misunderstanding

If the entire plot of the novel can be solved by the characters having ONE (1) conversation, I’m just not interested.

Chances are these people should not be together anyway, since apparently, they can’t even communicate properly. You can’t both/all be communication bottoms. One of you needs to suck it up and be the top.

I’ve seen people argue that this actually a good trope because it’s “realistic”, but to me, the whole point of romance is that it’s supposed to be escapist. 

Otherwise, we’d all be reading about mediocre people going on mediocre dates and being boringly happy together - that’s realistic too. Do you want to read a book about it? I sure don’t!

2. First Love is The Best Love

This is more applicable to YA than any other genre, but I’m so tired of stories that make your first love be your one and only true love. I’m not saying it never happens, but it certainly doesn’t happen as much as the media says it does.

I feel like it’s both disingenuous, and possibly even dangerous, to raise such a cult around first love. Your first love is not going to be your one and only chance at love and that’s probably for the best. It’s likely, that along the way you’ll find someone who’s an even better fit for you and by then you’ll be more mature and better at handling relationships.

I just wish there were more stories that didn’t romanticize the magic of first love, as much as the showed how experience and knowledge can often be much healthier in the long run.

3. Fighting means Flirting

Just to be clear, I’m not talking about enemies-to-lovers or disdain-to-love, where the characters start out fighting and eventually grow to have a much healthier dynamic; nor am I talking about affectionate fighting, where they insult each other, but they don’t actually mean it.

I’m talking about cases where the love interests are actually fighting, but the author will have one of the side characters say something that implies that actually, they are flirting. Fuck right off!

I’m not one of those people who think that if the characters have one fight, that’s an instant sign of a toxic and unhealthy relationship. It’s fine if your characters fight sometimes. It’s also fine if they flirt sometimes. Just don’t try to tell me those two things are one and the same. It’s not cool to promote the adult version of the message that ‘boys pull on girl’s pigtails because they “like” them’. 

If your characters are older than fourteen, I’m going to be expecting them to act accordingly.

4. Virginity Naïveté

This is a trope I see a lot in cis-hetero romance and I’m so repulsed by it.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being sexually inexperienced, or writing about someone who is sexually inexperienced, but these characters are rarely just inexperienced. They are also so ignorant about sex, to the point of making me question whether they are emotionally mature enough to be having it at all. And not only that, but they are often paired up with the biggest sexpot character and it turns into this icky power imbalance, where the more experienced person uses their sexual experience to manipulate their partner.

It’s not realistic, and it’s gross, stop perpetuating the social construct of virginity. Just let women (and sometimes pretty feminine gay men, but that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms) have healthy sex lives. And if they are inexperienced, at least let them have a healthy attitude towards sex and sex-havers. And pair them up with someone who, if not at the same experience level as them, is at least at the same level emotional maturity.

5. Questionable Consent

Nothing puts me off a story faster, than if I have to wonder if the what happened was fully consensual. 

I don’t know how to say this, but please stop having your big male characters groping strange women (or sometimes strange smaller man, but again - ‘nother can of worms) or even women (men) they know, who have not expressed any romantic interest in them; pressing them against walls/doors; giving them lovebites (yes, something I literally read once - though admittedly, it was in a fanfic) and any number of inappropriate physical behaviors without explicit consent.

Surprise kisses are fine if the other person responds, or if you stop when they don’t - but anything other than that is weird, uncomfortable, and it makes me feel like this character doesn’t understand boundaries. And frankly, I don’t want to root for someone who in any other circumstances would be a rapist. 

6. Insta Love

I’ve recently been exposed as a slow burn hoe, and that’s true enough, but even if you like faster-moving romances, what’s so compelling about Insta Love?

The whole point of romance is to see the development of the relationship (except for the rare cases the partners are already together at the start, or if it’s a second-chance romance) and see them falling for each other. 

If they are already in love by the second time they meet, all that potential and stakes are lost.. And half the time, you can’t even figure out why they are in love, to begin with, aside from the fact of being two people of similar ages, attractiveness levels, and the right sexuality. It’s boring and lazy, do better.

8. Teacher/Student:

This is probably because I work as a teacher, but no power dynamic will skeeve me out more than the teacher/student one.

It’s particularly awful if it’s a high school student / high school teacher, for a multitude of reasons I hope I don’t have to explain, but even if it’s college it’s still pretty gross. 18-19-year-olds or even 21yos are just not mature enough to handle a relationship with their professor, who is a minimum of 35 btw, (unless they are some super-genius), and holds their future in their hands.

Maybe grad school would be okay if I’m sure it’s a one-off and that professor doesn’t make a habit of dating their students. Really, the most acceptable versions of this, are either grad-school student/professor, but the student is not that professor’s class, or a college student having a one-sided crush on their professor, and then they meet on equal terms, years after. 

9. All in the family!

I’m not talking about actual incest, which should obvious - but specifically about dating your partner or ex’s sibling/parent/uncle/aunt/first cousin. 

I mean, if it’s a one-night-stand, fine, everyone makes mistakes, but a prolonged relationship, that I’m supposed to root for? Yikes.

Your ex will always be there. At your wedding. At your anniversary parties. Every holiday from now on. And how awkward are family get-togethers going to be when everyone knows where your genitals have been, from now until the end of time. And especially currently, with the internet and how everything is forever? Once your kids /your ex’s kids grow up? They’ll know too! That’s gotta be uncomfy.

10. Cheating

Look, if the romance starts with cheating... well, first of all, I’m already rooting against this couple, because they are assholes and I prefer my romances asshole-free (when it comes to the main characters at least). 

Not only is cheating such a gross and awful thing to do to someone but frankly, I don’t think any relationship that starts with cheating can last. I don’t think you can really trust a cheater - not just to cheat again, but really for anything. They already broke their ex’s trust, who says they won’t do it to you too?

Now, I will say there are some borderline situations that I find more acceptable, where your mileage would vary, if things with the third person beyond purpose-less flirting (aka flirting for the sake if a confidence boost, rather than with the intention of starting something - some people are just naturally flirty) and/or at any point the people involved know that what they’re doing is wrong, but they keep doing it anyway - I’m out.

Some authors will try and justify the cheating MC, by having their partner cheat too, but I’m sorry - two wrongs don’t make a right. That just means everyone is an asshole, and I’m not rooting for any of them to be happy.

[conaionaru]

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Brother and Sister

Synopsis: Silas and Vanya talk on her name day. The pregnancy is coming to an end soon.

Warnings: Silas, Toxic family, sibling rivalry, mentions of murder, angst, fluff

Tags:

@queenbeeta @heavenly1927 @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @lol-haha-joke @youbloodymadgenius​ @didiintheblog​

P.S. Anything in cursive is Old Norse. Anything in bold and cursive is a memory.

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3

f there was one thing Vanya hated, then it's definitely seeing Silas walking around looking down at everyone. Or maybe it's just Silas himself; after all, he isn't exactly the most likable person. Stithulf is probably the only one who truly cares for Vanya's cruel brother and not for his title. The blond knight seemed to her like a good influence on her brother. He cared about the people and Silas's survival, which no one else bothered to do up until now. She just hopes that his concern is sincere and not a front he put on to win her trust.

"I was never happier that I didn't have a sister. Just imagining him as our brother in law makes me sick." Sigurd commented, sitting next to her on his bench, tuning his oud as she stitched a pattern on Ubbe's new shirt.

Vanya shrugged at his choice of words and looked down at her stitching. She was so absorbed into her thoughts and watching Silas that she butchered a part of her work. The ginger cursed under her breath and tried fixing it. Her husband's older brother snickered at her adorable rage, but shut up when she glared at him.

"You do have a sister now. And she doesn't like you talking about her brother that way." She snapped angrily as Sigurd raised an eyebrow at her tone.

"Please don't tell me you like him. I get that he is your family, but Silas doesn't seem like a good brother. When was he ever nice to you?" Sigurd asked, thinking back to his own brother. He and Ivar were brothers, but if someone were to treat him the way Silas treats Vanya, he would kill them. Only Sigurd gets to insult Ivar and get away with it. Afterall they are brothers; it would get boring if everybody were nice to each other.

Vanya saw Stithulf leave her brother's side and walk over to the other knights, both Silas and the knight seemed annoyed and sour. "When were you ever nice to Ivar?"

"When he was a babe. Things were easier when he couldn't talk."

"You mean when neither of you talked." Vanya pointed out, walking over to her brother's side, gathering all her courage to talk to him. "Are you alright?"

Silas glared down at his redheaded sibling and walked away from her. He stomped his way past two of his knights who looked at him, terrified. "Get out of my way, you lowlife filth!" He spat at them as they made a path for him.

"I am sorry, I am sure you bathe regularly. Have a nice day!" Vanya apologized in her brother's stead as she heard Sigurd run after her, cursing her sudden getaway.

"Stop following me!" Silas spat at her, turning on his heal. His nostrils flared in rage; the king looked like a bull ready to charge. "What do you want, Vanya?"

"I want to talk. Like civilized people would."

"Do you take me for uncivilized, you worthless bitch?"

She definitely didn't miss these types of conversations with him. Why does she even try? "I don't want to fight. I want to talk to you privately, without it seeming like you will kill me."

Silas huffed at her comment and mentioned for the shore. She sat down on the pier to rest her legs while he stood over her, glaring at the water instead of her. "Talk, or I will leave."

"What did you argue with Stithulf about?" She tried not to sound demanding and timid to soothe his anger a little bit. It would be easier if he were less murderous.

Silas sighed and gave her a letter from his pocket. It held the royal seal of Slegia, which could only mean that their mother sent it. Vanya opened it and read over the writing in astonishment. "Dear King Silas, I wish to inform you that I got married again while you were away. Me and Lord Ceolmund will continue living in the castle. Have a safe journey, and greet Vanya for me. Greetings, Queen Mother Siflæd." It was short and to the point, and an obvious dismissal of Silas's authority as she married without his consent or knowledge.  

"She did it to spite me. I forbid her to bring any more lovers to the castle, so she married the one that would anger me the most." He seethed, tearing the letter out of her hands and ripping it into pieces that he threw into the sea. "I want to raise my armies and cut off his head!"

"Maybe she did it out of love. Or she is with child. Whatever the reason, he is our new father now. Murdering him isn't a wise choice." Vanya reasoned, trying to remember if she ever met this Lord Ceolmund.

Silas shook his head and slammed his hand against the post he leaned on. Vanya jumped at the sudden outburst. "Oh, he is as much of father to us as Siflæd was a mother. Ceolmund is rich and young, a perfect victim to her charms. The moment he returns to his senses, she will drop him, pregnant or not."

"If you know that, then why fight with Stithulf? Why plan a murder if the outcome is obvious?" Vanya pressed, trying to decipher her brother's thinking process.

The King spat on the ground in disgust and looked at her stomach. "Because this poses a problem for my marriage."

"Your marriage? You will take a wife?" Vanya questioned, failing to imagine Silas as a husband. He always seemed like the type that wouldn't marry even if his life depended on it.

He leaned into her face and smirked. "I am supposed to marry Lady Eoforhild. She will give me an heir and connect Slegia with Ecbert. Considering that she is his brother's granddaughter, he will support us against threats to keep her safe. But Mother destroyed the plan the moment she married that halfwit."

"How does that destroy your plan? You can still marry her."

"Ceolmund is Eoforhild's father, you dumb cow. The deal was to marry her, as it is the honorable thing to do after I took her maidenhead, leaving her no longer a virgin and unfit to marry anyone. She seduced me at a dance on my name day, that bought dishonor on their family name, so Ecbert offered me her hand in exchange for his armies. They keep their reputation and get some form of power over Slegia, while I get allies and heirs. And that option is now out of question when Mother went behind my back and married my betrothed's father!"

"And now the church won't allow you to marry her anymore." The ginger sighed in defeat, seeing the reason behind his anger. Their mother destroyed a chance of protection and the poor girl's life.

Silas rolled his eyes at that and looked back at Sigurd, who stood behind them, glaring at Silas as if he will beat him with his oud soon. "Mother did it to gain back some sense of control. She has been throwing tantrums since you left; she is humiliating herself and the whole kingdom. She always hated being in the background; that's why she acts out like a child. Just like when Father was alive. That's the truth of it all."

Vanya knew what he was talking about, when Osmond was still alive Siflæd paraded her lovers around to spite him and his lovers. Their relationship was anything but love; they hated each other and fought daily behind closed doors. After his funeral, the vicious cycle was over, and she could do as she pleased. That is till Silas got fed up with her behavior and forbid her to take any more lovers. And now she married his future father in law.

"The truth is always either terrible or boring. Why can't there be a middle ground? Like she married him out of love and not spite."

"She doesn't know love, not to me or anyone else. She is a dark pit of hate and selfishness. Siflæd never held her tongue about me being a monster, but we both know she is no better. The only difference is that I have no problem showing it." He sneered in his rage, stomping off to either brood or plan murder. Whatever it was, Vanya understood his feelings. A perfect opportunity thrown out of the window because Siflæd got something to prove.

"Well, that was eventful," Sigurd commented, helping Vanya up. The ginger flinched in pain, causing the Ragnarsson to panic. "Is it the babe? Is it coming? Please say no, you can't give birth here!"

Vanya rolled her eyes at his hysterics and wrapped her arm around his. "Just a kick. The child is stronger than one would think." Sigurd sighed and helped her walk back to the Great hall to collect her stitching.

"A gift, Princess. A pretty rose for a pretty girl." A woman stopped them, giving the Saxon a flower before walking away.

"Well, that was strange," Vanya muttered, cradling the gift in her hand, smelling the sweet aroma.

Sigurd snorted and pointed at the rose. "Maybe it's an offering. Hvitserk heard some people say you are Freyja or Frigg in disguise."

The pregnant girl gawked at him in shock. How could the people even think of her as a goddess? What about her seemed divine and godlike? "I am not a goddess, Sigurd! I am human, just like the rest of you. I'm not special, who am I to think I am special?."

"Pretty, smart, kind, selfless, lots of patience considering your husband. You are right, nothing special at all. I guess we are all just naive." The sarcasm was strong with that one, and it made her smile. It was nice to be seen, but she would prefer a little less worship. She wasn't a god or anything near Freyja and Frigg. Vanya is and always was a plain mortal born into money. There are thousands of them all over Midgard. "And you should get used to getting gifts. It is your name day today. You are seventeen now, Little bird."

Vanya chuckled and smiled at the passing people. A year ago, she wasn't pregnant, married, or living in Kattegat. Things change so fast it's almost scary. Everything she went through in the last year feels like it happened a decade ago. "Oh I will still complain about getting gifts, I will just limit for Ivar's ear before we go to bed.

"Well, I hope you won't complain about my gift. I think you will like it."

"No promises, Brother." She teased as he snorted, shaking his head.

[doyoureallyrememberme]

“Siren’s Song”

Words: 1,678

Rating: G

Warnings: N/A

Categories: M/M

Characters: Link, Sidon, Bazz

Relationships: Link/Sidon

"My prince, is everything alright?" Prince Sidon turned to find Bazz standing behind him,  a slightly concerned look on his face.

"Ah, yes. Everything is fine." Sparing a glance at the East Reservoir Lake, Sidon  continued. "I find sleep hard to come by tonight."

"Oh, of course," Bazz replied, his worry seeming to melt away. "Is there anything I can  get you?"

"That's quite alright," Sidon answered, turning to face the steep cliffs over which  waterfalls cascaded. "I think a walk would do me some good." Without waiting for a reply, he  began walking towards the bridge that led to the East Reservoir Lake. As he passed by the public  sleeping pools, he spared a glance to find that several of the other Zoras were sound asleep, their  young ones by their sides. As Sidon crossed the bridge though, his mind was far from his  kingdom and its inhabitants.

Truth be told, he had been kept awake many nights now. This wasn't the regular insomnia  that accompanied him when he was stressed because of his duties or when he simply had too  much energy to lie down. This was because of the hauntingly beautiful song that had drifted on  the wind over the cliffs and waterfalls. At first, the prince had thought that it was another Zora  but after asking around the kingdom, he had quickly discovered that he was wrong. This was a  new, mysterious voice he had never heard before.

Using the faint voice as his guide, Prince Sidon made his way across the bridge that led to  the lake, passing Gaddison on his way.

"Good evening," she quietly uttered, eyes glancing toward the dam before focusing on  the prince who bowed his head in recognition but continued on his way.

The stairs that led up to the lake were numerous and Sidon often wished there was a  waterfall that he could swim up instead. Nevertheless, this was the fastest way and the less time  it took to reach his destination, the better.

As he reached the top of the stairs, the Zoran prince couldn't help but marvel at the  exquisiteness of his kingdom. He'd been up here countless times yet every time he became all the  more enthralled by the sheer beauty of it. With the full moon hanging in the vast, empty black pit  of the universe, plenty of light was cast down to illuminate the landscape, including the surface  of the water.

Lost in admiring his surroundings, it took a while before Sidon realized that the singing  had stopped. Sharp eyes scanned the cliffs, the water's surface, even the looming figure of  Shatterback Point far above before his rings of gold landed on a small figure in the water. With  his predatory vision aided by the light from the moon, he could clearly see what appeared to be a  Hylian.

"Hey there!" Sidon called out. The figure turned to acknowledge him and seemed to  freeze in place for a moment before disappearing under the water's surface. "Wait!" He called  out, hoping he hadn't scared the stranger away.

The large Zora stood there examining his options before deciding that, if the stranger had  wanted his company, he would have approached him. As he turned to leave, he heard a noise  behind him and turned back to find the top of a head sticking out of the water. Everything below the nose was hidden in the water but from what Sidon could see, the stranger was most definitely  a Hylian. From the looks of it, a male Hylian. His light sapphire eyes shone even in the lack of  light and the moon light illuminating his damp, golden hair only added to his beauty.

Moving slowly as to not scare him off, Prince Sidon knelt down and reached his hand  out. The male took his hand, placing the other on the end of the dock and pulling himself up.  Resting his elbows on the polished luminous stone walkway, he rested his head on his arms, a  small smile playing on his lips.

"Hello young one. Pardon the entrance, but you're a Hylian, aren't you?" Sidon inquired.  The mysterious male offered no reply, only continued to stare at Sidon with his blue eyes. His  lack of response led the prince to believe that he, in fact, had no idea what was being asked. Pointing to himself, the red Zora said, "I am Sidon, the Zora prince."

The quiet stranger watched him a moment longer before pointing to himself and quietly  saying, "Link."

"Your name is Link?" Sidon asked, a large, toothy smile on his face. Gently returning the  smile, the man nodded.

"Are you the one that's been singing?" the prince asked, subconsciously leaning closer.  Link nodded before gently taking the other's large, clawed hand and setting it against his throat.  Feeling such a small creature put such trust in him (combined with the feeling of the blood  rushing beneath the frail skin below his fingers) made the Zora's eyes dilate. To his surprise,  Link didn't pull away. If anything, he seemed more excited by his obvious effect on the prince.

Taking both red hands in his, Link harshly tugged the Zora forward. Without an  opportunity to catch himself, Sidon tumbled into the water. At first, he feared he had landed on  Link. But a quick look around told him that the male was nowhere to be seen. While he  admittedly had a limited knowledge of Hylians, he knew that their swimming abilities were  supremely limited. At best, he had two or three minutes before he would need to surface for air.

Feeling a harsh tap to his back, Sidon spun around to find something quite unexpected. A  thorough understanding of Hylian anatomy was not needed to know that Hylians had two legs,  not a tail resembling a fish. Yet there it was. The skin below Link's belly button gradually faded  to brilliant sapphire scales that closely resembled the colour of his eyes. Gently taking one of  Link's arms, he pulled him forward and looked beneath his arm. As expected (or perhaps, it  should have been unexpected), gills lined his sides.

It was no wonder now why he hadn't answered Sidon's question. He probably had no idea  what a Hylian was.

Leaning forward, Link ran his hand over Sidon's crest. His eyes seemed to ask a question  that he didn't want to verbalize but he had no need to. Sidon knew exactly what the question was.

"My biology is... strange, I suppose, when compared to yours."

Link simply smiled before tapping the prince on the shoulder and taking off. Without  encouragement (for none was needed), Sidon followed close behind. He could have easily passed  him but that would have spoiled the fun. As Link reached the edge of the lake closest to  Shatterback Point, he began to slow down. Finally, at the water's edge, Link pulled himself out to  sit on the rocky bank, Sidon following suit. The two sat in silence, listening to the sound of  crickets and the occasional owl before Link began to hum.

"What is that song you keep singing?" Sidon asked.

Link's face turned a light shade of red before slowly replying, "There was a girl who used  to come to the lake often. She looked a lot like you.. but smaller. She taught it to me. But I haven't seen her in..." Link stared at his hands, trying to count the days, weeks, months, years  on his hands. He quickly gave up and shrugged his shoulders.

"Was her name Mipha?" Sidon gently asked to which Link quickly nodded.

"She was my sister," the Zora explained. "She died many years ago."

Link seemed to consider this before his eyes lit up and he held up one finger - the only  sign Sidon got - before he dove under the water. Moments later, he surfaced with a shiny object  in his hands. Carefully holding the object, he held it out to Sidon. The bright moonlight caught  the blue jewel that hung in the shape of a tear drop, illuminating the beautiful piece of jewelry.  Several blue sapphires were framed by silver. The necklace was truly beautiful and much too  small for any Zora. Except, perhaps, Mipha.

"Did she make this for you?" the prince asked. Link nodded. "It's exquisite." Taking the  necklace from Link, Sidon fastened it around its owners neck. Taking a moment to admire Link,  Sidon finally said, "It matches your eyes perfectly."

Link's face turned a dark shade of pink which, unfortunately for him, was obvious in the  light of the moon. Sidon, however, had no idea what the action meant.

As Link resumed humming the song, Sidon made sure to pay close attention. After only  moments, Link abruptly stopped.

"What is it?" the prince asked.

"There was something she used to do," Link slowly said, each word pronounced  carefully, as if he were unsure of what he was saying. And for all Sidon knew, that was precisely  the case. "May I?" Link asked. Though unsure of what was going to happen, the Zora consented.

Leaning forward slowly, Link pulled Sidon down closer to his level before nuzzling  against his crest. This was an action that Sidon was familiar with. It was the Zora's way of  showing love. Though, because it was typically done between lovers, Sidon had never done it  himself. Eyes wide, the prince watched the young male nuzzle against him. His eyes were closed  and a happy smile was on his face. As they pulled away, Sidon was baffled. How was he  supposed to explain to Link the action's implications?

"I know what it means," Link said as the Zora was left scrambling for a way to explain. "I  apologize if that was too bold."

"Not at all!" the stunned prince blurted out.

Smiling brightly, Link let out a relieved sigh. "Good."

After Sidon had repositioned himself so the two were sitting side by side, Link leaned his  head against the Zora's side and closed his eyes. Side by side, the two sat together - Link singing, and Sidon listening.