#not usually a trope i go in for but hes fallen so far and changed so much in 200 years

[lassieposting]

Ideas I think have a lot of potential: Gur Tav/Durge. Especially with an Astarion romance.

Like. Maybe Tav grew up in the city, the child of parents who decided to give up the wandering lifestyle and settle down. Maybe they've ended up less in touch with their culture than they'd like, but they speak the language, and treasure the traditions and stories they learned from parents or grandparents. Maybe they're very attached to and proud of their culture, and mention it early, and their initial impression of Astarion is affected by his negative reaction, leading to a relationship built on bickering and making up.

Or maybe Durge spent their childhood on the road with a Gur camp, right up until Sceleritas paid them a visit for the first time and Urged them to massacre their foster family, and since they've lost their memories it's not until the party visits the Gur and witnesses the funeral rites that they realise they've seen something like this before - they remember those words.

Think of that moment, where Astarion snipes at Gandrel - "I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats."

Tav who immediately elbows him and tells him not to be a fucking bigot, darling. Tav who's shocked into making a joke - tell us how you really feel, why don't you? Gods. Tav who says nothing, politely sees Gandrel on his way, and then calmly reveals later on that their parent or grandparent was Gur (or foster family, if the Tav is Durge).

Tav who says, "You can't blame an entire people for what happened to you," and hears, "I think you'll find I can," hissed back in response, and challenges him: "So you blame me?"

And like. Of course he doesn't. Tav is, if not his lover yet, still his protector, his willing capri-sun, his shield against monster hunters like Gandrel. Tav didn't turn him over, didn't even let on that they knew him. He's left floundering, because he has no comeback that doesn't invalidate his entire attitude. He can no longer generalize the Gur people without also insulting someone he's starting to really like.

Tav sharing little snippets of their life as he gets to know them. Maybe they grew up in a camp like the one whose children he was forced to steal. Maybe they grew up in the city proper, largely divorced from their culture, but they have a little of the Gur language and learned some cultural traditions from a grandparent. Maybe they follow the Gur faith, and can translate the funeral rites the camp leader recites, or maybe they don't. Maybe, when he has night terrors and gets up in a state during their turn on watch, they distract him by telling him folk tales they learned from the Gur in their life, and he realises some are not all that different to the stories his "brother" Leon would tell his daughter Victoria. Bit by bit, mostly unintentionally, Astarion gets an unexpected glimpse into the world of a people he's seen as irredeemable curs for two centuries and change.

Somehow, the practices don't seem as absurd and primitive anymore. 200 years ago, Astarion the corrupt magistrate looked at the Gur culture and saw only the superstitious nonsense of a lesser people. Now, Astarion the vampire spawn is starting to see it for what it actually is: just...people, a different way of living, and a snapshot of the world through the eyes of a person he is beginning to fall in love with.

Anyway. Astarion being dragged kicking and screaming into having to reexamine his own racism because the person who saved him and loved him and chose him as he is comes from the same culture as the people who - due to his own shitty choices, though he'll never admit that - beat him to death all those years ago.

[morningstargirl666]

hie!! obsessed with your fic and while (patiently) waiting for updates, i have THE biggest craving for fics with the same vibes as your fic & The Wolf by yokan. for instance, fics with caroline in NOLA with lots of mikaelson family dynamics and just her being around them or being considered as a part of their family. i'm lowkey a sucker for found-family kinda tropes if its not obvious lol.

i haven't read alot of kc fics yet so honestly just hit me with any fic!! popular or underrated everything works since i'm technically very new in the fandom! :D

thankyou for the recs in advance!!

Thanks so much! Specifically NOLA fics:

Blood and a Quick Murder (and isn't that how it always is) by KS_Caster

After a magical accident turns Caroline into a human, she discovers that her values don't match up with her friends' like she thought they did. She discovers that some choices are permanent - and some aren't. Oneshot - complete.

Whisper To Help Me Remeber by LaLainaJ

Put down by Tristan Klaus waits. And plans. Once awakened he's thrilled to set out and get revenge. A wrinkle forms when he hears news of Caroline, and is told that she's been working for his enemies. Klaus is determined to find out why, and soon learns that something is not quite right with her. He'll fix it, whatever it takes. Uses TO characters but ignores most TO canon.

Like The Sun Shines by LaLainaJ

"Klaus finds himself blinking down at his phone for an embarrassingly long length of time while he filters his brother's usual nonsense and the pertinent information sinks into his brain. Caroline is in New Orleans." It's an average Wednesday in NOLA until it isn't.

Fallen by klarolineepiclove

Caroline Forbes was a woman with a secret. Running from a shattered past, she settles in New Orleans, determined to disappear in the crowds and chaos. When her path continually crosses with the Mikaelson family, her plans go awry. When she finds herself drawn to the charasmatic Klaus, she begins to wonder: How far can you run before the past catches up with you? AU/AH Klaroline

Break Your Promise by Fearfrost

"What can I do?" He breathed. He knew in that moment listening to her fall apart hundreds of miles away he'd do anything she asked. "Break your promise."

Wicked Schemes by willowaus

Old family secrets lead Caroline on a journey of self-discovery and into the dark underbelly of New Orleans as Klaus works to reclaim his kingdom and rebuild the family he's slowly destroyed over the centuries. A TVD/The Originals crossover.

Someone's First Choice by unpublishednovelist

How many times can Tyler put their relationship on hold, ignoring her calls and hiding in the mountains of Appalachia, before Caroline finally snaps? He's pushing her away. Who could blame her for being pushed to something else? Someone else --- A rewrite of the TVD S5E1 scene where Tyler leaves Caroline yet another stupid message about how she's not the most important thing in his life.

throw roses into the abyss by marxandangels

Throw roses into the abyss and say: Here is my thanks to the monster who didn’t succeed in swallowing me alive. Caroline goes to see Klaus in New Orleans after her mom's death, humanity free. That choice changes her life from the foundations, every single brick of it --- I think that the whole humanity switch thing is the dumbest plot device in TVD, but also the most interesting. What is humanity, really? What are the edges of it? What would it /actually/ mean to be able to turn that on and off?

Not NOLA, but the Mikaelson family dynamics are off the charts:

not for him a watery grave by MyLadyElise

He's saved her life, more than once. Doesn't she owe him the same? An alliance, a rescue, a race against time. A possibility. Hope. AU after Season 3: Before Sunset.

Persistence of Memory by perfectpro

Caroline comes to New Orleans, nervous to see Klaus after their last argument. As it turns out, she doesn't need to worry about him being angry. He doesn't remember the argument. After all, how can he when he doesn't even remember who she is?

a vampire, a brother, and a pack of wolves walk into a bar by banazie

In which Kol angers a pack of wolves with moonlight rings, his girls’ night out with Caroline is ruined, and Klaus feels particularly dagger-y.

where the heart moves stones by darkness_shows_the_stars

Caroline’s planned college experience in New York, so far away from her magic-infested hometown, keeps getting interruped because the Originals have apparently decided that her dorm room is free game. Getting away from supernatural drama was so much easier in theory.

the fate makes for a lousy poet by darknes_shows_the_stars

It is not unheard of. Soulmates born too far apart to ever meet. Caroline did her research thoroughly. It’s just rare. And for all that she’d known her entire life that her fated other half was dead long, long before she was even a gleam in her mother’s eye … it’s unfair. --- Everyone is born with a soulmate. It just so happens that a millennium divides Caroline from hers.

There's tons more. Search through my fic rec tag in my tumblr archive if you want more fic recs, or browse my AO3 bookmarks, I've answered a few asks like this one ✨

[lfghughes]

Can I get a forbidden romance with Trevor? I’m not really picky about why it’s forbidden but maybe not the usual brothers best friend trope ❤️🙏🏻

a/n: you asked for forbidden romance so i went as dramatic as i possibly could with this. pls dont hate me. i did not include any names so just pretend its a player that everyone universally hates so no one feels bad for him going forward

warning: this fic is definitely going to have some cheating in it as well as a not so good boyfriend in the emotional sense.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” You let out a frustrated sigh as you looked over at Trevor. Both of you had stepped outside onto the patio of the restaurant and it hadn’t taken long for an argument to start between the two of you. An argument you had to keep kind of quiet so you wouldn’t get anyones attention but you also knew any of your shared friends inside couldn’t even see you two. “Maybe I don’t know, don’t move away?” He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

Like you wanted this move when it was actually the last thing you wanted. “You know I can’t just do that.” You tried to calmly explain to him but he was already waving his hand as if your words were just an excuse. “So you’re just going to go. That’s it?” He asked and you nodded your head because what else was he expecting. Trevor wouldn’t understand because he wasn’t in your shoes. Everything was easy when you weren’t the one having to actually do it. “Listen, let’s pause this conversation. We have to go back in there but we can talk about it some other time this week. Promise.” You did mean that, even if you felt like you couldn’t change the outcome the way he wanted.

Making your way back inside, you slipped into your seat. Almost immediately a hand went to your thigh and you turned, pasting a smile onto your face as you looked at your boyfriend. “Everything okay? You look upset.” He pointed out and you shook your head. “I’m fine.” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, trying to distract him from asking any more questions. “What were you and Z talking about out there?” No such luck apparently on the questions. “He was just asking about your trade and if we were excited to move.”

That answer seemed to do the trick. Oh yeah, did you forget to mention that your current boyfriend was Trevors teammate and not only that but he just got traded to the east coast so both of you had to pack your bags this upcoming week and start looking for a new place. Only downside? You weren’t happy but you didn’t know how to express it. You had fallen out of love with your boyfriend before you had even gotten to know Trevor but you had truly known it once you had spent more time with him.

There had been red flags there with your current boyfriend that you should have acknowledged sooner but ignored. Funny enough Trevor had been the one to point out the obvious red flags to you as you two had grown closer. It was obvious Trevor wasn’t a fan of his teammate which wasn’t good for anyone and this trade should have been good news to him except when he realized you weren’t planning on staying behind with him. There had been not nice words shared from Trevor that you were just looking for comfort and you were choosing that over actual real love.

Maybe he wasn’t far from the truth but you had been in this relationship for so long and your lives were intertwined so deeply that it almost felt like you needed to just deal with it. Trevor of course didn’t see eye to eye on that. In another life you knew you and Trevor could have been happy together but that just wasn’t going to be this life. “Actually I just wanted to say something real quick.” Your boyfriends voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

As he lowered himself onto one knee in front of you, you felt your heart start to race but not in the good way. You knew what was about to happen and when the ring box came out you wanted to excuse yourself from the table but you were in front of all your friends and panic took over instead. “Will you marry me?” There had been a pretty good sized speech before that you missed and all you could hear were those four words. “Uh yeah. I mean yes.” You were dizzy and your eyes flashed up to see Trevor disappearing out the door of the restaurant.

[arthurdrakoni]

Flatland is an underrated classic that imagines life in a 2-D world. This is my review.

You’ll get a lot of answers when you ask when speculative fiction was born. Some will tell you that it began with Hugo Gernsback and the pulps. Others will say that it goes as far back as mythology and folklore. Personally, I go with those who say that it began with Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, though I don’t discount earlier works such as Gulliver’s Travels or The Tempest. I say all of this because I’m taking us back to the 19th Century for today’s review. We’re going to review the classic novel Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin A. Abbott.

Imagine, if you will, a sheet of paper that is infinitely large and stretching to all sides. Now imagine that on this sheet of paper there are a series of geometric shapes, but instead of staying in place these shapes move about and have complex social lives. Welcome to Flatland, a world of only two dimensions. There is width and length, but there is no height or depth.

The book follows A. Square who is…well, he’s literally a two-dimensional square. He acts as our guide to the realm of Flatland and relates to use the ways of his countrymen and their doings. There are two main events that serve to completely change A. Square’s world view. The first is his contact with Lineland, a world of only one dimension, and the second is meeting a figure known as Lord Sphere. Lord Sphere claims to come from a strange world of three dimensions called Spaceland.

The book goes into great detail about how life works in a world with only two dimensions. For example, it is customary to meet someone by feeling them in order to determine their shape. It’s also considered polite to give directions to the way north when meeting a traveler on the road. Societal rank and job are determined by the number of sides that one has, with circles being at the top of things. Each successive generation gains an additional side, except for the low ranking isosceles triangles, though there are exceptions. Women, being incredibly sharp and pointy lines, have restrictions placed on them so that they can avoid constantly killing people by accident. We also learn much of the history of Flatland, such as why colors have been banned by the upper classes. There is some pretty great world building in this novel.

That having been said the fact the citizens of Flatland are all living geometric shapes does limit the amount of exploration that can go into their biology and physics. A. Square does hint at future explanations, but he decides that it will take up too much time and bore the reader. Or to put it another way, if you wonder how they eat and breathe and other science facts…well, I’m sure you all know the words to the Mystery Science Theater 3000 theme song. You’ll also notice that Flatland society bares more than a passing resemblance to the society of Victorian Britain. This is intentional, as Abbott intended for Flatland to be just as much a satire as a compelling story. For example, the class system of Flatland is rather absurd when given further scrutiny, but Abbott was making about about how the British class system was absurd and ultimately rather arbitrary.

Since it was written in 1884 Flatland has long since fallen into the Public Domain. As such, many other writer have tried their hand at tackling the subject matter Flatland is built upon. Usually they will focus on one particular aspect while ignoring the others. Admittedly I haven’t read any of these books, but of the ones I’ve heard of thanks to TV Tropes I’d say Planiverse sounds the most promising. It attempts to look at how biology, chemistry, physics and culture would function in a realistic 2-D world.

Have you read Flatland? If so, what did you think?

Link to the full review on my blog: https://drakoniandgriffalco.blogspot.com/2017/02/book-review-flatland-by-edwin-abbot.html?m=1

[alectoperdita]

20 questions writer meme.

Thanks to @heyholmesletsgo for tagging me <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

178 (one is a podfic)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,761,591 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I'm mainly in YGO only now, but in the past, have written for Lucifer, Sherlock, Gundam Build Fighters, Sailor Moon, and a few other random fandoms

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The sum of our choices (Lucifer post-S3 canon-divergent AU)

Side Deck (YGO post-canon kaijou)

obvious things observed by nobody (also part of the same post-S3 Lucifer AU)

Confirmation Bias (Sherlock, post-Reichenbach Johnlock)

The tomorrows we'll never have (YGO Battle City canon-divergent AU with hints of kaijou and Priest Set/Jounouchi)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yeah, I usually try to. I've definitely fallen behind in the last few months, though. I'm sorry. I try to tackle it when I have energy, but it's a rare commodity and I use it to write usually.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

These are more open endings than specifically sad/tragic endings, but they could end up there because they're open. It's a toss-up between Chilled to my bone and the recent ficlet where Jounouchi was kidnapped by Hirutani.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of them are fairly happy because I tend toward happy endings. But I can't really think of which is the happiest?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Somehow in the last two years, I morphed into being a majority smut writer. I'm still in the experimental phase, trying to write different kinds of kinks/tropes, but I feel more practiced at it compared to when I started. Overall, my preference is to try and use smut as a way to advance character/relationship development.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Yes. It's maybe not crazy per se, but some of them may feel discordant(?) in their source materials. Like I find it amusing to write crossovers between animes and Western live-action properties.

We do ourselves no favors is a Lucifer/YGO crossover casefic.

Going forth by day is an unfinished Sherlock/YGO crossover casefic.

Said the spider to the fly is a Sherlock/xxxHOLIC crossover ficlet.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sorta? The Horny Cinderella Incident was an idea workshopped between wahwahwashbear and myself. I wrote the prose for the

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Kaiba and Jounouchi forever 😍

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I try not to give up on WIPs, as it may take a few years but I eventually get back to them. But if I'm honest with myself, I'm probably never going to finish he lit a fire with icicles 😔.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmm... perhaps the smaller gestures characters might make that hint at their feelings?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue, especially in a way that distinguishes between characters via appropriate voice/cadence is something I generally struggle with. I also tend to be verbose even in dialogue, which means they require a lot of editing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Unless the point is for the reader to also not understand the dialogue, I prefer to not do that.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Sailor Moon

20. Favorite fic you've written?

It changes every once in a while but right now it might be Lure. 😈

Tagging @leechysmile, @arien-elensar, @worldendercharles, @chazz-is-a-zelda-fan, @bdeblueyes, @unfriendlyamazon, @kaijous, and any other writers that want to do this one. <3

(Give me permission to tag you on games here.)

[raveneira]

Ch 78 kawasara sudah mati lol

Yall say that everytime Kawaki acts even remotely hostile towards her its honestly hilarious lol

In the first chapter of Inuyasha he tries to kill Kagome despite knowing she wasnt Kikyo and she saved him, now they are married with a child.

Vegeta tried to destroy earth, killed Bulma's boyfriend, and then even once they were married with a child he blew up part of the stadium near where she was all because he was petty wanting to fight Goku, he still redeemed himself later and sacrificed himself for them.

Sasuke tried to kill both Naruto and Sakura multiple times despite being his teammates, He eventually atones and is now married to Sakura with a daughter and Naruto's right hand man.

Yall act like murder attempts kills ships when its literally a pretty common trope when it comes to villain arcs/enemies to lovers.

One of the main things done in a villain arc to show someone's descent into madness/darkness is to have them attempt to kill someone who was close/dear to them, this moment is usually pretty dramatic and treated with surprise which is exactly how this moment played out between him and Sarada lol.

Ask yourself why Sarada was the one put there to emphasize his descent into darkness, you didnt see Mitsuki used nor Sumire but specifically Sarada, so if anything I could say this chapter actually strengthens KawaSara since she was obviously an important enough person to Kawaki that him tryin to kill her was used for shock value which wouldnt be possible if she wasnt someone the readers thought he cared about and wouldnt hurt.

Chapter 58, another chapter yall claim killed KawaSara, literally had this moment to emphasize just how much Kawaki has changed.

Kawaki never wanted to hurt or kill Sarada, he wanted to protect her and everyone else, but now he coldly swings his blade at her for getting in his way, these two chapters served to show who Kawaki was and what hes become using Sarada as the catalyst both times, ironically both chapters end with the number 8 which is almost poetic lol.

This is the same thing that was done for Sasuke when he tried to kill Sakura, it was a surprise to both the reader and the characters that he would actually try to kill her and made it clear to them just how far he had fallen if he who once risked his life for her numerous times was willing to kill her now.

So go ahead, keep sayin KawaSara is dead every chapter, a ship can only die once so the fact that it keeps 'dying' according to yall means its actually pretty alive lol.

[cacalowee]

𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 || 𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 || 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓

azriel x rhysand’s sister [ y/n ]

synopsis : at their mating ceremony, y/n reminisces about their time together so far [ bonus ;; az's pov ]

warnings : fluff, mentions of trauma, cursing, alcohol

word count : 2,783

notes : this is meant to be a sweet, fluffy chapter of just pure love memories <33 but I don't know how mating ceremonies are like in prythian, so I'll just try to make it as whimsical as possible lmao [ also ignore the weird title, I'm feeling very disney ] also I'm so sorry I didn't exactly like writing the nervous 'bride' trope but I literally had no idea what I was doing and made it up as I typed

this is me finally finished with writing and I think I managed to write and share a theme that I really needed before [ at the end ] i hope this story reaches you well and I hope you have a wonderful day ahead of you <33

[ also im lazy so this isn't proofread or edited. i may go back in to change a few things but I'm so so sorry if there are any grammatical or spelling mistakes ]

cal xx

"Oh my fucking gods, I'm actually doing this," you breathed, already out of breath. You wiped your sweaty palms on the skirts of your flowy dress and tried to shake out the nerves.

Feyre offered you a warm smile, "You look so beautiful." Your eyes flickered to the mirror propped up against your bedroom wall and scanned yourself up and down. Your black satin dress had a slightly modest neckline and long, mesh sleeves draping off your arms. Your dress came down past your ankles where the tips of your silver heels peeked through the fabric. Silver glitter had been dusted on the hem of your skirt and sleeves, giving off an ethereal feeling to your mating dress. Your hair had been pulled half-up, your thick strands of hair forming a crown around your head.

"Do I?" you asked nervously, terrified that you looked different in the eyes of others.

Mor nodded in agreement as she dusted sparkles over your cheekbones and gave you a dazzling smile. "You look amazing. Now, stop moving around so much, I still have to fix your hair." You quickly switched your energy to bouncing your leg up and down, ignoring Mor's huff of amusement.

"Don't be nervous, y/n," Feyre said, placing a crown of burnt flowers in your hair, the dark shade of them matching the ebony dress.

"I'm not nervous, exactly. More like absolutely petrified because I'm sure I'll piss myself and then die," you answered, muttering the last bit.

Feyre gave you a pointed look, "You won't piss yourself or die. You'll walk down that aisle, and offer Az your best fucking meal in the history of food."

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, adding quietly, "I can't cook shit."

"I warmed up soup for Rhys, you're fine," Feyre said, a slight smirk gracing her features.

"OhmygodsnowIsoundneedyIneedtoshutup," you muttered, letting your thoughts swirl around your head instead. Azriel hadn't dared propose the idea of officiating our mating bond. Only a few weeks ago, you had planted the idea while extremely drunk at Rita's. Azriel had been hovering over you, being overprotective as usual and making sure you didn't drink too much. It was endearing, truly, but at some point, you were sure you had just snapped and slurred, "We're not mated yet, stop being a busybody." After that, he had fallen silent and you had asked the question. Want to mate me?

And here you were, trying to convince yourself that you hadn't imagined that entire conversation in your wine-addled head and were now dressing up for nothing.

Because that would be a shame. Especially after sitting in this damn chair for over two hours.

You subconsciously rubbed at your arms, feeling the silky mesh material glide across your skin. You started playing with the sleeve and as you twisted your arm around, you could faintly make out the white outlines of a large scar you had earned by being dumb.

You turned your arm back over and stared directly in front of you. You focused your gaze and could've sworn you saw the air particles moving around in the space in front of you.

You let your eyes unfocus and small stars appeared in your vision. There were streaks of white across the walls that reminded you of the night when the mating bond snapped into place. Azriel had been dumbfounded at first, freezing on the spot and staring at you with wide eyes. The bond had shone brightly, illuminating your mind with its light. Neither of them dared to breathe the words aloud. We're mates.

You had stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. When Azriel's eyes had filled with tears and he collapsed against you, you held him as he held you, both of you understanding and yet not saying a single word.

A few weeks later, both of you laying next to each other on the roof, watching the stars twinkle against the dark sky, you had shared a special thing.

After hours of talking about everything that was important to you and him, your gazes interlocked and he looked so beautiful at that moment. His eyes were glowing and a smile twisted his lips upward, warming his features. He stared at you with love shining in his eyes and you felt your lips curve up into a smile to match his own. His breath hitched and he murmured, "You're beautiful."

Your smile had faltered slightly, the words coming out of a different mouth for a moment before you were back in the present. "You're absolutely breathtaking," you responded.

His gaze was so understanding and empathetic, that you had no other choice but to move closer so that your bodies were only an inch apart. You didn't remember who moved first, but you both angled your faces toward each other and brushed your lips together. The soft touch made your heart clench at the gentleness he was offering and you leaned in further to press your lips firmly against his own.

He draped an arm over your waist and pulled you in closer, sharing a beautiful moment for all of a few seconds before it was over and you were both smiling stupidly at each other.

"y/n?" Mor asked and your head snapped up. "Stand up for me real quick, I need to adjust the hem."

You tilted your head and did as she said. "You don't have to help me, y'know. I don't want this to be a big thing."

She smirked at you and shook her head, "Small thing or not, you're going to look fucking gorgeous out there. I don't care if you fight me every step of the way, I am going to fuss over you. I didn't get to do this for Feyre, and Nesta had her sisters." You couldn't deny her when she made it about herself.

After a few more minutes of absolute torture, you were ready for the ceremony at dusk. You hadn't wanted a normal ceremony, you wanted to break out of the box and be unique, all for the fact of not being confined to society's rules.

You had worn all black instead of white, your silver shoes being the sole exception, and held a bouquet of dead roses. It had taken a lot of convincing to make this all happen. Convincing yourself and others. You didn't say anything, but you wanted this ceremony to double as a funeral for the person you once were. It was stupid, honestly, so you kept quiet.

You stood in front of the double doors to the roof, mentally preparing yourself for the embarrassment you would feel when you tripped and fell flat on your ass in front of everyone.

You took a deep breath and opened the door slightly, knowing the Inner Circle sat on the other side.

You tentatively took a step down the aisle created by the parting of chairs and heard Cassian whoop enthusiastically. You grinned at that, feeling the fear leaving your body. Only slightly. You continued down the walkway, avoiding any and all eye contact, though furiously scanning the perimeter of the roof for anything amiss.

When you reached the altar and the priestess was waiting there for you, you nodded at her and offered a small smile of thanks. Your gaze swept out over the blurred crowd and you swallowed, feeling the fear rear up again. You clenched the bouquet of flowers closer to you, knowing for a fact that no matter how hard you squeezed, you wouldn't damage the roses.

Movement from your peripheral vision caught your eye and you automatically zoned onto the double doors where wisps of shadows were seeping through the cracks and joining you on the altar. They curled over your wrists and the cooling brush of the tendrils helped calm your heart rate.

The doors opened and Azriel stepped out dressed in all black, as per usual, but instead of leathers, he had donned a silk tunic and trousers that perfectly fitted his figure. His wings were flared out behind him and your gaze drifted to his face. You found his eyes already on yours and you felt your heart stutter. His eyes softened, just for you to see, and the tips of his lips tilted up in a reassuring smile.

For him. For Azriel.

You took a deep breath and watched as he made his way toward you. When he turned to face you on the altar, the priestess took that as her cue to start the usual bonding words. You zoned out slightly, your mind running over all the different scenarios that could occur where you would screw this entire thing up.

A calming shadow curled around your ear and you heard a faint song with lyrics you couldn't interpret. When the priestess took a step back, you reached your arms forward for Azriel's and as you clasped hands, shadows slithered down your arms, meeting where your hands were joined. You held Azriel's gaze and felt a slight tug on the bond. A surge of happiness and love followed and you were almost felled by the potency of the emotions.

In return, you quieted your thoughts and pushed the words, I love you, through the bond, hoping he could hear the message through the pounding of your heart.

"Do you accept Azriel as your mate for the rest of eternity?" the priestess asked, interrupting your silent conversation with Azriel.

You smiled, letting your happiness show on your face.

"I do."

azriel's pov

His breath caught, the impossible words filling his head as you smiled up at him with all the love in the world. You were beautiful. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. He couldn't believe he was standing in front of you, with his ruined hands entwined with the most unbelievable female he'd ever met.

"And do you, Azriel, accept y/n as your mate for the rest of eternity?" the priestess repeated. Your gaze swiveled to meet his eyes and he couldn't help the pang of anger when he saw that hint of doubt in your eyes. Anger at everything in the world that had taught you the curse of doubt.

He made sure you were looking at him, letting all his walls down and letting you see all the emotions crossing his face.

"I do."

Your face betrayed no negative emotion, but he felt a slight stirring of relief through the bond. He gave another reassuring tug and clasped your hands tighter.

"Then, y/n, you may present the food," the priestess said, breaking and adding to the moment all at once. You let go first, the shadows twining around your arms breaking as well.

Your face was flushed as you turned and offered him a plate of homemade brownies. "You said you like chocolate, and I don't know . . . "

Azriel stretched out his hand to take a brownie and took a large bite, not hesitating for a second. A dazzling smile graced your features and he would've fallen onto his knees at the sight of it were it not for the events that would come after. The sweetness of the chocolate erupted in his mouth, and it was the absolute best brownie he had ever had.

"I now pronounce you officially mated," the priestess said, a small smile spreading across her face at the pure joy hanging around in the air. And Azriel felt that joy, felt everything. He felt undiluted happiness as he stood in front of his mate, her face glowing and full of love. He had never thought he would've experienced this day in his entire 500 years of living, but all that pain was worth it to be here. With you.

y/n's pov

Azriel turned to face you completely, his eyes softening with love and gratitude, something only meant for your eyes and you smiled at him, trying to convey what words couldn't: how much you loved him.

The shadows swarming around both of you erupted as Azriel stepped closer and cupped your cheek, bringing his head toward yours. He gently pressed his lips against yours, his other hand going around you to hold your waist. You arched into the kiss, your hands reaching for his hair. You smiled against him and you felt his lips tilt as well, both of you eventually dissolving into snorts and chuckles.

When you pulled away, you grinned at him and held him tight.

When the priestess moved to step off the slightly raised podium she had been standing on, Rhysand and the others stood up immediately to rush at you both.

"y/n, my precious little, baby sister," your brother greeted as he wrapped his arms around you, giving Azriel a pat on the back. The two males grinned at each other, Azriel more carefree than you had ever seen him.

Cassian swung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug. Feyre offered you a warm smile and you reached for her hand, clasping it gently. Cassian whooped with joy for you and his brother. Even Amren gave you both a smile, the expression on her face showing more emotion than normal.

"Alright, let's all get stupid drunk and then pass out!" Cassian hollered, heading straight for the drinks set out on a table near the edge of the roof.

In small groups, the Inner Circle broke away to lounge on the chairs set around the roof as they all celebrated Azriel's and your mating ceremony.

You turned toward the rising moon and found Azriel standing by your side like he always would from this point forward.

You reached for his hand, holding it tightly. When he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, you pulled his hand up and pressed a kiss to his scars.

"I love you so much," he whispered, his fingers moving to twine with yours.

"I love you more," you returned, wrapping your arms around his waist, hands still linked together.

"I'll be with you forever. From here on out until the Mother claims us. Beyond that even," he promised, leaning down to kiss your hair. You tilted your head to lean on his chest, squeezing tightly.

"And I'll always treasure you, my precious, sweet, chicken leg," you muttered against his black tunic.

Azriel pulled away slightly to look you in the eyes. "Chicken leg?" He asked with a deep laugh.

"I don't handle on-the-spot decisions well. How about you try thinking of something, right here, right now," you retorted.

"Easy, starlight," he said, his voice soft.

You released a huff, "You got a few seconds to think."

"Yes, that's why," he returned, voice dripping with sarcasm. He wrapped his arms tighter around you held you even closer than before if that was possible.

"I'm glad I'm back. I'm glad that I managed to find you even when I was trying to kill Rhysie," you admitted, glancing at the stars that twinkled in the night sky like small bursts of reassurance.

"I'm glad you're back too. Even though the circumstances which we met through were questionable," Azriel replied. You hummed in agreement, averting your gaze from the stars to his eyes. They were liquid honey, absolutely beautiful, and truly Azriel.

"My beautiful, handsome, absolutely perfect mate," you breathed, staring deep into his soul. You saw everything and held no fear. Azriel was by no means perfect, but he was perfect for you, scars and all. The blood on his hands was there from protecting his High Lord and Court. And you couldn't fault him for that. Hell, you've tortured and killed before. You've tried to kill your brother. Both of you had endured so much as well. Under the hands of his brother, Azriel had suffered, but he was alive. He was alive and living. He didn't let what happened to him affect him. He was as strong as an army of thousands.

And despite everything that had happened to you, from your mother's death to the torture of the King, you lived as well. And when two halves of a whole, both merely surviving met each other, you learned to thrive together. Because that was what you were doing. Both of you had learned to thrive and found love where you thought had been impossible.

The Mother has some strange plans, you thought. But truly wonderful plans.

Incredible plans, actually, because throughout the course of her plan, you had met your mate and you were currently being held by him on the roof overlooking the night sky, surrounded by your family and friends.

Life sucks for sure, but in the end, there is always a turn of destiny and something truly wonderful awaits you.

→ violet dreams masterlist || complete masterlist

taglist : @sassybluebird ,, @starrstrucked ,, @hideing ,, @moonslattess ,, @goldentournesol ,, @eat-cake ,, @owllover123 ,, @imnotsiriusyouare ,, @winnie-the-shoe ,, @xxgenderenvyxx [ striked-out names couldn’t be tagged unfortunately ]

[thotsforvillainrights]

I am such a huge sucker for the stuck on a deserted island romance trope. Could i please ask how that would work out if skeptic, overhaul, and twice met their s/o in this scenario? Im so glad youre still writing on here! Thanks for all your creative genius and A+ memes

(Ayo thank you! I don’t think I’d ever experienced/read this trope before so bear with me since this is my first time writing something like it haha. Thanks to watching old TV with my grandma (Gilligan’s island), I have developed something lol)

(btw nobody question why these villains are on a cruise. they just are okay?)

~Love on an Island~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

~Skeptic~

-Company retreat for team building his ass. He grumbled and re-settled himself in his chair on the deck while silently praying that the sun wouldn’t make its way near his side of the ship. “Just 3 more days and I can get back to work.” He grumbled to himself. Suddenly he felt something bump into his leg. Granted he was tall so they were sticking out, but still! He glared at you passing by. “Sorry about that!” You were on your way, ignoring the fact that he was glaring holes at you. He scoffed and tried to relax while waiting on dinner time. The ship would be docking on some sort of beautiful island or something tomorrow morning. Perhaps he would make time to admire nature for once. He cringed at his own thoughts. No it would be better to relax in the room. Well good news and bad news. Bad news, that little island tour changed from a few hours to a few days. The ship was having troubles and who knew how much longer it would be. The crew worked day and night to try and get an emergency transmission out for help. The good news was that the cruise had enough food and water to last everyone for months and that the cruise company would eventually notice one of their ships was missing for too long. All he had to do was sit back and wait it out whether that be for a few more days or a month or two. It was inconvenient to not be able to get his work done for who knows how long, and it was even more inconvenient that you seemed to be hovering around him. You were (to him) annoying. He’d rather be trapped out at sea than to be around you for any longer. Even as we speak he’s sitting there and boiling at having to listen to you ramble on and on. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be right now! You’re pissing me off. Go the fuck away.” He was blunt with you. You smiled and leaned to whisper in his ear. “When we run out of food, I’m going to eat you first asshole.” He stayed very far away from you for the next week or so. Eventually you gravitated back toward him and started chatting him up. It’s hard to say how in the hell he’d fallen for you through all of this. Maybe it was the delirium setting in. Maybe it was the hopelessness...the thought of being stuck here to perish. Either way, you’d become his annoyance and soon his lover. When the rescue came to help everyone out he’d decided to keep with you (delirium or not). 

~Overhaul~

-Pops probably dragged him onto the damned boat alongside Chrono. Yeah that sounds about right. Well to be honest with you, it was Chrono that connected with you first. Had it not been for Pops, Kai would’ve never even left the room. For a while it seemed like you and Chrono were hitting it off. But then (by the power of romance/because I said so) you and Kai laid eyes on each other and it was a wrap. He was fairly quiet every time you were around. You tried to stir up conversation but he barely ever spoke around you. Soon Chrono started to figure out what was wrong with his childhood friend. Even if you couldn’t see it, Hari could as plain as day. That mask may have been able to hide majority of his face but it didn’t cover the tips of his ears that turned pink when you were near. He also noticed the proximity of how close you two were...close enough for Kai to have usually broken out in hives but he didn’t. Hari also noticed the way Kai seemed to never make eye contact with you until you looked away from him. Hari smirked and quickly reported the news back to Pops. The old man was overjoyed at the thought of his troublemaker having finally being able to experience love. The old man started pushing Kai out to you basically. While eventually the ship stranded at the island tour dock, some people panicked but Pops saw it as a silver lining. “You look way too happy old man. We could die out here in as little as 5 months if we run out of the food and water.” Kai grumbled while Pops was trying to teach you to play an old card game. “I’m already on my last legs of life. I’d rather die out here on a cruise than in a hospital somewhere.” You chuckled at Pop’s morbid joke but Kai only sighed. You weren’t really stranded for too much longer since Kai basically offered to use his quirk to help repair whatever was needed to repair. When the ship made it back to land/home Kai nervously asked for your number. You didn’t hesitate to give it to him. Hopefully it wouldn’t take another ‘stranded at sea’ situation before he would officially call you and ask for a date.

~Twice~

-Who on Earth knows why he was on a cruise ship but it’s Bubaigawara so I suppose it’s not too surprising. To be honest, he stuck around you more than you did for him at first. You originally wanted to just enjoy your vacation to yourself when you ended up striking a conversation with the man in the all you can eat buffet. It was a rather populated cruise this go round so you offered for him to sit next to you instead of trying to find a seat somewhere else in the dining hall. Lucky him since it filled up pretty fast. He seemed like a pretty nice guy to connect with. He opened up a little too fast for your tastes but you didn’t mind it. He was honest, transparent with you. He had a way about him that made you want to do the same. The two of you spent your days with each other after connecting. You’d go to different cruise events and be your own little team. You met up for lunches and dinnertime and eventually started visiting each others rooms to watch movies together. Sometimes you’d sleep in each others rooms since, well...there were two separate beds in the rooms you had. When trouble struck and you found out you’d be stuck on the island for about a week or two (or maybe longer), you and Jin only seemed to get closer. His personality shifted and you soon found him slipping on makeshift masks over his head. It was odd but you still managed to find him a good person to be with/around. As his personality shifted so did his actions. He was more needy with you now. He was also torn in the way he spoke. It was funny but you tried not to laugh at him too often since it may be considered rude. At some point he started freaking out about being stranded and you had to help calm him down. Technically speaking, you’d both be fine for quite some time since the ship accounted for accidents like this. Somewhere along the lines he spilled his guts to you in a loving but overdramatic way. He literally asked your hand in marriage but you laughed it off and denied his offer. “Let’s just take it easy. How does a date sound? Say after we get off this island?” He nodded and gladly took you up on the offer.

[moodyfoxes]

AFTG Fanfic Recs! #7

December 2021

Ok so it’s late but at least I’m posting it?

Lifeline by pandaseek [Ongoing]

"What is your name." He wouldn't care usually, but the way this kid had avoided it last time he asked, he was curious. "I've had six so far." He answers slowly, weighing each word. "Which one do you want?" Six names? Yep, there is something going on there. "The real one. The one that fits you best." "Not my birth name then?" He sounds almost hopeful? Andrew waits until he sorts through his thoughts. He has another hour before he has to go back. "Abram." He decides after a long pause. "It's my middle name. The only one that doesn't have to change because it can just as easily be left out."

I love love love the trope that Neil and Andrew knew each other before Palmetto and this gives me that and so much more. If you haven’t fallen in love with this trope already then this fic will certainly do that for you!

Broken by sheskyripa [Ongoing]

After Aaron breaks their deal in favor of being with a woman who's definitely not worth it, Andrew decides to walk away. Leaving Exy (which he doesn't care about) and college (which he might care about a litte bit), Andrew moves to work as a caregiver for Mr. Neil Hartford, a man with a past as rough as Andrew's.

This is such a different and out there AU that I never realised I desperately needed. ANDREW HAS FEELINGS EVERYONE. And he also helps Neil with his.

No More Fucks To Give by Wrotethis [Ongoing]

Neil rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. He’d get to play exy, eat regularly, and sleep somewhere with heating- presumably. Not a bad way to spend his last months. And hey, maybe his mother would come back from the dead and kill him herself if he went to Palmetto. Little victories.

What if Neil gave up completely on making it through the year when he went to palmetto? What if Neil just did not give a single fuck? Maybe things would turn out better.

What if Neil didn’t have anymore fucks to give? Basically just what it says on the tin lol. An interesting take on the original story if Neil was just that little bit more reckless.

Lilac Sunglasses by SallyJacobs [Ongoing]

Neil is younger when his mother dies and gets arrested while burning a car. While in juvie he meets someone, but ends up moving to the UK with his uncle. Andrew and Neil stay in touch and when PSU needs a new striker…

This is pretty recent and still ongoing so watch this space! I love the way they portray the characters!

your crown of thorns holds roses by quensty [Completed]

Three days after he signs his death sentence to Palmetto State, five after Andrew Minyard knocks him breathless to the ground, Neil's gaze snaps to the locker room mirror and stares, frozen, at the word threat scrawled along his spine in terrifying bold.

All in all, he isn’t thrilled about the situation this puts him in, but based off the negative connotation, it isn’t one-sided, either. On the bright side, at least this means his soulmate doesn’t harbor any delusions of grandeur.

ONESHOT!! A short and interesting soulmate AU that I first read ages ago but always come back to read! It’s a very easy slightly angsty read if you want something quick!

All of my recs can be found in my bookmarks on AO3!

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 21)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,800

Chapter Warning: Smut. Strong language. Non-consensual elements, but not non-con.

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

Too many things have been different lately.

Between the both of you, there had been too many silences just like this, but this time it was different.

It was different because you knew your kiss with Pietro had affected Bucky. This time the silence was because Bucky was upset.

Back at the anti-climatic ball, after your meltdown with Pietro, you both spoke for a few more minutes before you excused yourself. Pietro was disappointed at your sudden departure, but he nodded, not digging any further. Before you’d left he had given you had address and he told you you could stop by whenever you wanted. He reminded you to stay safe with a kiss on your forehead.

He didn’t pry and you appreciated that. You put your ear piece back in and Bucky had taken extra long seconds to reply. The rest of the night his responses were one worded.

You both ended up finding Silas and Ashen’s men by the corner of the bar. You had eavesdropped and was able to confirm that the delivery tonight was for a tested cure for the virus and it was going to be administered to Ashen’s son, Ashens.

It was going to arrive at the back alley way at nine, but it wouldn’t even be administered until tomorrow afternoon. Ashens would be transferred from the tower to his home.

“We’re done here.” Bucky’s voice had come from your ear piece.

“What? We’re barely done.” You responded.

“Tonight is just the delivery. What I’m interested in is tomorrow. I’ll have to stake. Let’s go home.”

“Buck-“

“Meet you back where we were.”

beep.

The short walk to your hotel had been silent. Awkward.

You knew he had heard you. You were glad he did.

He deserved to know you had a choice in this. He also deserved to know you deserved better.

But what bothered you was that you knew the kiss bothered him but he was too proud to admit it to you.

You needed him to tell you. Him glooming was not doing you well.

Bucky had been frozen to the spot as he overheard you on the other end. He could move or breathe as he heard Pietro kissing you, as he heard you moaning for another man.

He could feel the blood pumping in his head along with the sudden feeling of pure regret.

He felt regret at not taking the initiative that he should have. He knows he has no right to feel the way he does right now, but he does. He feels the heartbreak and the jealousy over you kissing someone that wasn’t him.

He had been wanting to the last two weeks. At first, he had held himself back, now allowing himself to go down that path of intimacy, but it had began to get harder.

Bucky was going crazier for you, bit by bit.

He knew what you two had was only physical, and he knows he has no right to feel the way he does especially with how he had pushed you away, but he regrets it all.

He regrets the way he handled it.

What killed him the most about Pietro kissing you though, was the fact that Pietro was clearly a better guy for you.

Something Bucky could never be.

Not that you even wanted him anymore.

It took him two months to finally want you for more than sex and you had moved on.

He couldn’t speak to you. Not when it hurt him so much. Not when you drove him crazy the way you did.

He could still feel his heart beating just as quickly as it had an hour ago. What he felt around you didn’t even compare to how he felt around Daisy.

His relationship with Daisy had been carefree and easy.

You were a hurricane.

He wishes he could tell you everything he’s feeling, but he knows it’s for the best that he doesn’t.

You both take the elevator up to your room, silently. His eyes stays on the floor, his hands in his pockets.

Look at me. You think to yourself. Tell me what you’re thinking.

After walking through the door to your room, you turn around to face him.

You couldn’t see his face. He had been quick to avoid you and he was already turning the other way, making his way towards the bed.

The bed where he took your heart many times and squeezed it his fingers.

Little did you know that you had been doing the same to his.

His silence was overbearing and your heart tore at his facial expression.

He didn’t hold that blank look he usually held when he didn’t want to show emotions.

This time he bared it all for you. His face was fallen and he was trying his best to keep it down.

You hated this silence. You hated the lack of communication that complicated this relationship.

You and Bucky no longer made any sense.

This wasn’t sex without feelings. This was far from it.

You had expected to gain so much more after your kiss from Pietro - freedom and strength. Instead, you felt confused.

He was still quiet and the tension in the loft was thick.

“What are we doing?” You asked breathlessly, breaking the ice and literally mentioning the elephant in the room.

What was this?

You watched as he loosened his black tie from around his neck, pulling it up over his sharp jaw and head.

“I don’t know.” He says quietly. His voice sounds broken, life he was on the brink of giving up.

He sits down gently, and the bed sinks down with him.

He reaches down and removes each of his dress shoes one by one. He does it slowly.

You walk up to him and stare down at him in a clouded daze of mixed emotions.

He’s stopped and reluctantly looked up at you, eyes pausing at your hands for just a moment first.

Your face showed him that you were begging him to communicate, begging him to get off his chest what he needed.

It hurt you that he couldn’t do it.

Again, he was unhappy about your kiss with Pietro and you needed him to tell you why.

Bucky’s eyes fell back to the floor and he blinked away whatever it was.

He pushed off his jacket started unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

“Go to bed, sweetheart.” He says with heavy emotion in his voice. It almost breaks off at the end with how much feeling he puts into the words.

His term of endearment shocks you to the core. Your heart swells deep within your chest. This is the first time since you’ve met him where he’s ever used this tone and addressed you this way before.

You’re gaping as you watch him continue to unbutton his shirt. His fingers were meticulously. Somehow in a dystopian and near apocalyptic word he still kept his nails trimmed and perfect.  

Something so small that could go unnoticed but that said so much about his personality.

You find yourself moving closer until his knee is touching your left leg.

You feel the heat of his body radiating off yours. You reach down and touch his hand, stopping him from unbuttoning.

He stops and swallows hard.

He could feel the heat of your fingers on his own and it makes him ache inside.

What’s happening to me?

“You want to know why I kissed him?” Bucky’s gaze stays on the floor. He doesn’t respond. No I don’t, “I wanted my first kiss to be with someone who didn’t take it for granted. For the first time, I wanted to be the one who made the correct choice,” you let go of his hand, “but you already knew that, didn’t you?” Bucky inhales deeply and returns to undoing the last few buttons. Bucky shakes the shirt off his shoulders and then stands up to go hang it in the closet. He walks right past you, not saying a word. You close your eyes tightly together, “Talk to me.” You beg.

You turn around as he’s hanging the shirt on one of the hangers.

His jaw is tight. You can tell his teeth are clenched and he’s holding whatever he wants to say, in.

He moves onto his dress pants, removing them until he’s in his boxers, and then he pulls out a pair of grey sweats, slipping them on.

He grabs a black T-shirt and puts it on, too.

He walks past you, still not looking at you.

Without thinking, you reach your arm out to grab him, and he stumbles back like you’ve burned him. You’re shocked at his reaction and your eyes go from your hands to his own eyes.  Your heart shatters immediately.

He gapes down at your hands and you can see the fear and intense sadness in his eyes.

You take a step closer to him and he gulps as you slowly bring your hand up to run over his hard torso and eventually up the side of his neck. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from trembling.

You look up into his eyes as you play with the short hair on the back of his neck.

“Please.” It’s the first time he’s also begged you in such a small voice. His eyes close halfway as he whispers, “Please, no.”

You feel the need to comfort him; to comfort this man who has done nothing but hurt you the way he’s hurting right now.

You grasp the back of his neck with your whole hand, shaking your head to yourself as you do so. His head hangs low, eyes still closed.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whisper, “what are you so afraid of?” He opens his eyes and looks away from you. He lifts his head and looks out towards the window behind you. He reaches behind his head and takes your hand, pulling it off his skin.

“Please, let’s go to sleep.”  He says softly.

You watch in a daze as he spins around and walks down the hall and into the bathroom.

He needed a moment to breathe. He needed a moment to catch his breath and think.

After splashing his face with some cold water and brushing his teeth, he walks back into the room to see you already changed into a pearl colored silk camisole.

The edges graze your thighs as you crawl up the bed and towards your pillow.

The water did nothing to help him.

He still kept hearing the way you moaned as you gave away your first kiss.

All to get a reaction out of him.

Bucky flicks off the remaining light in the loft, his lamp, and crawls into bed next to you.

He pulls the comforter up until it’s halfway up his chest and he pulls at his hair, look up at ceiling and letting out a long breath.

If only you knew the affect you were having on him. If only you knew how much he cared about you.

Your mind was else where than his.

You felt a need for vengeance. You needed him to hurt. Just like you had told Pietro, you couldn’t let him do what he was doing to you anymore. He needed to respect you and if he wasn’t going to own up to his feelings and finally speak to you, you were going to move on.

You had Pietro now, anyway.

So you had a plan.

“I want you to fuck me.” You say quietly, looking out the window.

There’s a long pause before he replied.

“I’m not having sex with you tonight.” He tells you in a quiet voice.

You flip around until you’re staring at him. He’s on his back, looking up at the ceiling, a far away look in his eyes.

How dare he be the only one to make the choice?

You spread your legs a little wider and reached down between your legs. You reached under the band of your underwear and cupped yourself.

You kept staring at the side of his face, silently asking him to look your way. He didn’t budge but you could tell he knew what you were doing. If your soft moan and the shift of the bed was any conciliation.

He blinked and swallowed thickly.

This was all he was good for now. He lost his chance and your respect, and all he was now to you was a human dildo.

As much as he wanted to tell you how he changed his mind about giving it a try and as much as he wanted to tell you how he was starting to feel, part of him was still afraid. He was afraid of his emotions getting in the way and of him losing you.

Especially when you now had a chance to be happy with someone else; someone so much better than him.

As much as he wanted your touch and your caresses, he needed to push you away. Push you into the right direction.

You were hurting him and you didn’t even know it. Him pushing you away when he needed you, pained him.

You let out another moan. He closes his eyes, turning his face away from you.

You were hurting him.

“Please, y/n.” His voice came out in a whimper.

You removed your hand from yourself, half sat up, and looked down at him. He still had that same sad look in his eyes.

Two can play that game.

You sensually dragged your fingers that had just been on your core over his bottom lip. You watch him for a reaction.

His eyes flashed to yours, stunned at your move, and you stared at your fingers on his mouth just as shocked.

Was this what anger pushed you to do? Vengeance?

You found yourself panting as you continued to touch his lips.

Slowly, he grabbed your hand. You could see what was only the lingering of tears in his blues.

There it was.

“You fucked me nearly every day for the last two months. And the one time I want you to fuck me the most, the one time, you say no.” you say quietly. He swallows thickly, “you’ve used my body for two months,” your voice shakes and he blinks, his eyes burning, “I’m just asking you to do it again. As a friend. It’s not that hard, right?”

You could feel your own words hurt in your throat at your words.

You slowly lean down, laying half your body on top of his. He closes his eyes, sucking in a shaky deep breath. You lean down until your face in the crook of his neck, on his pillow.

Bucky gulped at the proximity, feeling his heart race like mad.

“If you can’t say what you want to say, if you’re too weak for that, you can at least show me using your body.”

You ran that same hand that was touching yourself down his neck and over his chest. You find the bottom of his shirt and you slide your hand underneath, feeling his hot skin.

“I don’t want to do this.” He whispers, pained.

He almost changes his mind when he feels your hand change direction, going under his sweats.

But you stop just below his navel.

As much as you wanted to convince him and push him off the edge, you also didn’t want to breach the line of consent.

Your touch was so gentle it burned through his skin and Bucky took it in. He closed his eyes tightly together, a soft cry leaving the break of his lips.

He was crying.

You lift your face from his pillow, looking down at him to watch.

He wasn’t sobbing but there was definitely tears leaking from his eyes. One drop runs down the far corner of his eye.

He lets out a long shakey breath, still looking up at he ceiling. You feel his left hand grab the back of your head and he rubs your head. You feel his legs widen slightly and you wonder if it’s an invitation for you to continue.

The proximity of your faces shocks you when he turns his head to the side to face you.

You can feel his breath hitting your face. And you lips are only inches apart. You watch him in awe as he continues to rub your head, his eyes searching yours as another tear leaks from his blue orbs.

He rubs his nose against yours, suddenly wanting to give you everything.

When you finally take him in your hand, Bucky’s eyes close together tightly. You give him two slow pumps before you maneuver yourself so you are laying on top of him.

He watches you in a daze like you’re a siren and he’s a pirate who’s been summoned.

You stretch your hands over next to his head, taking his in your own. Your camisole is pushed up to your waist and you sloppily kick off your underwear.

He leans his head up until it’s in the crook of your neck.

“Not like this.” He says quietly. You don’t know what’s he’s talking about. You continue pushing his bottoms down until the back band is under his ass and until you see his length slip out. The tip is already oozing pre cum, now dropping onto his black shirt.

You feel the need to pour all your emotions into this fuck.

You swirl your hips and rub down until your folds are sliding over his tip, the velvety skins touching each other like two pieces if expensive silk.

Bucky involuntarily bucks his hips at the feeling.

You let out a delicious moan.

“What are we without sex, Bucky?” You whisper, breathe hitting off his forehead, “This is all we’re good for, can’t you see that?” You grunt, sliding down until he’s half sheathed inside of you, “You’ve only treated me horribly, since the day I met you. You’ve never once gave me the chance to gain your honor, oh fuck, but this, this you always knew how to take from me, to give me—“

“Stop,” he begs, breathing harshly into your neck.

“You might be a great fuck and a good friend, but you’re not a good person.” You continue to fuck yourself on his rod, rubbing your nose against his as your harsh breaths mingle together, “but that’s okay,” you put your left hand on the side of his neck, rubbing him tenderly there, “you’re good for this.”

A struggled and very loud moan escapes Bucky’s throat and you feel his right hand go to your waist, stopping you.

You put you hand on his, releasing its grip, continuing to move over him.

You watch as more tears fall out of Bucky’s eyes, his eyes snapping to yours.

“You’ve gotta stop.” He whimpers.

You can’t tell if he’s talking about the things you are saying or the fucking, but he’s a super solider and you know that if he was talking about the sex, he would’ve had more than the strength to fully stop you by now.

You purr as you look down between your legs.

“Look how perfect your cock was made for me.” You say. Bucky moans, looking down with you, his own hips pushing up to meet your down stokes, “that’s it. You hate me, don’t you?” Bucky’s hips falter and his eyes snap to your face.

“Wha—“

“That’s right, you do. I deserve this. I deserve your anger, right? Never did anything bad to you a day in my life but I still deserve it.“

Bucky was close to edge seconds ago, but with each word you’re saying, he feels the need to correct you and he no longer want to cum anymore.

This was wrong. Everything about this was utterly wrong.

“You don’t, y/n—“ He tries to tell you before you cut him off again.

You’ve never felt anger like this. Never.

“Fucking fuck me, Bucky. For just one night pretend I’m her, fuck me like I’m her.” Bucky’s heart falls hard into his stomach and he sits up, stopping.

“Stop.”

“Please.” You beg through clenched teeth, “you’ve already made me suffer enough finish the damn job.”

“Stop!” He shouts, grabbing you by the waist and pushing your off of his body.

He looked shocked as he stared down at you, his still wet tears running down his face.

“Are you serious?” You say back to him as he stands up.

He’s running his hands through his hair, pulling on the strands as more tears fall out of his eyes.

His mouth opens and closes a few times as he stares down at you, still at lost for words.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” He shouts, stumbling back.

You take a note of how his cock is an angry red, bobbing up against his belly. Catch you, he pulls his boxers and pants up all the way.

“Did I say something that triggered you?” You ask through heavy pants. How does it feel to be on the other end? You want to add.

He’s breathing hard too as he watches you. His face was crest fallen and broken.

He looks you up and down, sniffing.

“You’ve gotta stop this,” he whispers harshly, his volume growing with each word, “whatever it is you’re trying to do.”

“What am I trying to do?”

His face crumbles.

“You’re purposely trying to hurt me!” His yell stuns you, “It’s hurting me!”

You’re both trying to catch your breath as you stare at each other. “All night that’s what you’ve been doing. You think I wanted to hear you kissing him? You think I want to fuck you like this? You think I wish it went down this way?” His voice becomes a whine. He closes his eyes and looks away from you running a hand down his face.

You tilt your head as his last question.

“What went down what way?” He lets out a pained chuckle, “What way, James?”

“Forget it Im sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“What went down what way?!” You shout, banging your fist down on the bed, “You tell me right now or I swear to fucking god, Bucky, I am walking out that door right now and never coming back. I’m giving you a chance right now. Im giving you a chance to make this right.”

Your mini lecture gives him enough time to catch his breath and compose himself. It finally dawns on him and a look of disgust fills his face. He tilts his head at you.

“So that’s what this was? So that’s why you fucked me just now? To persuade me into a fucking guilt trip? This borderline non consensual—”

“—Don’t be dramatic.”

“And then you talk about you feeling used. I’m just a guy, Y/N.”

You both stared each other down. You suck in a deep breath as you take the hair tie from around your wrist and begin to tie up your hair into a bun.

“I’m so fucking over you. I really am. I was lying about the using me for sex part. It’s obviously the only time we ever communicate anyway. I do get that out of it.”

“Yeah that makes me feel so much better,” he reaches down to grab the pillow and before he can take it, you grab it, “give me the damn pillow.”

“Stop closing up on me.”

“Give. Me. The. Pillow.” You don’t budge, “I don’t have the patience for this. Especially after you almost jeopardized our entire mission with your little stunt today. Which was reckless and completely irresponsible by the way.”

“Stunt?”

“Please, you put on a fucking show as you stuck your tongue down his throat just so I could hear and then you turned off your damn ear piece. This is why I’ve always said you’ve always been a girl who acts on emotion. Give. Me the pillow.”

“You’re lying.”

His eyes twitched.

“What?”

“That’s not the deal reason you’re upset. You’re upset because I hit a nerve.”

He seethes, looking you up and down again.

“Look. What you did here tonight was the lowest of the low.”

“You don’t communicate.” You say.

“What do you want me to say, sweetheart?”

“I want you to tell me why me kissing him bothered you so much you couldn’t say one damn word to me.”

“It doesn’t matter why it does or doesn’t bother me." “Of course it matters. It means something.” “It means shit. Just because it might bother me on some level it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop you from being happy, okay? You want to go ahead and kiss and sleep with other men, that’s you doing you. We were never exclusive.” “Sure so that’s why you overreacted so much —”

“—You didn’t even give me a heads up! We had sex just an hour before you told me you were going on a date with the guy, y/n.”

“And that’s what made you cry?” After that question it goes silent. He avoids your eye and attempts to take the pillow again, “Bucky. Please.”

He licks his lips and looks up at you.

“I can’t tell you what you want to hear because it doesn’t matter anymore.” He tries to take the pillow again and this time you let him. He hooks it under your arm.

“Are you going to sleep there because of what I did to you?” He looks up at you and then looks away. He reaches over you to take one of the throw blankets, “Bucky?”

You reach over to touch his face and he flinches at first. This makes you pull away first.

“I didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel like I was taking advantage of you.” You whisper.

He looks down at your lips.

“I might be a super soldier and an ex assassin but I’m still just a man.” He says quietly. You nod, reaching for the back of head, and pulling him into you for an embrace which he gladly accepts, "You can't do that again."

He leans his forehead on your shoulder, inhaling your sweet sent.

“Please stay here tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll stay.” He gives your shoulder a kiss, “I’ll stay. I’ll always stay.” He assures you as he feels you trembling beneath him.

He pulls away, cupping your face as he does so. He looks down at you and you share a silent conversation.

This was different.

This time, he’s the one who rolls your dress up until it’s bunched around your waist.

You’re both breathing quickly as you watch him push his sweats and boxers down.

You whimper at the sigh of him, and he guides you a little lower, but you’re still halfway sat up. He runs his right hand from your core up the inside of your left thigh, widening yourself for him.

He’s knelt down between you, his lips still lingering over your shoulder. He grabs your right thigh and pulls it up so it’s bent feet down on the bed. His left hand goes to your back, right over your bottom.

You whimper again when you feel him drag his cock over your clit over and over again, and then finally down your soaking slit. His nose hits the side of yours and you’re both staring deeply into each others eyes.

“I got you,” he tells you, “I got you.” He repeats, sliding into you. His thrusts are steady and hard. He watches your face as you gasp and moan, your right hand going into his hair and pulling on it. You’re both like that for about three minutes until he lays you fully back onto the bed.

He watches as you unravel below him and he can’t imagine not living like this anymore. He doesn’t remember what he even did before you entered the picture. He doesn’t want to.

He stretches his arms around on either side of your head, keeping his thrusts steady.

“Fuck.”

“I won’t stop.” He tells you breathlessly.

You clench around him and this makes him groan loudly.

He feels his end approaching embarrassingly fast and he reaches down to give your clit some flicks.

On the fifth flick you come undone and he follows you right behind, cumming inside of you. Your legs wrap around him like a vice and he falls on of you. Both your hands run through his hair as he breaths harshly into your neck.

He doesn’t pull out of you this time and you don’t let him.

This time he falls asleep in your arms.

For you, it’s the last time.

I won't hide the ways I've tried It's just not right, it's killing me tonight

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​ @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat

[aminiatureworld]

Damocles

Characters: Zhongli, fm!reader

Word Count: 3,211

Warnings: Hanahaki disease – depictions of a fictional illness with symptoms mimicking tuberculosis, mentions of coughing up blood, talking a lot about death

Premise: In which the reader thinks Zhongli doesn’t reciprocate their feelings, and fears the consequences.

Author’s Note: Ngl, I don’t think I’ve ever really heard about this trope before, except maybe in passing. So if it’s a little weird that’s why.

I ended up taking the story in a bit of a macabre direction. Hopefully not too melodramatic, but I kinda like how it turned out.

Zhongli

“Thank you for telling me, but I’m afraid I cannot return your feelings. I’m sorry to be a disappointment.”

 In truth you couldn’t decide whether or not you had expected your feelings to be returned. You and Zhongli had been friends for years now, and you had grown closer to him than you had to most of your previous friends and acquaintances. Indeed, you had grown closer to him than you had to many of the people you’d been in previous relationships in. You called upon him in some form almost every day, whether it be to discuss something of importance or simply bask in his presence. When there was something new you found about, whether it be a story in a book or a particularly funky looking shell, you almost immediately sought out Zhongli to share your find with.

For Zhongli’s part, he also liked to share experiences with you. At the very least you couldn’t say that your friendship was one sided. He often would be the one to walk up to you on the street, a new brand of tea written down on a piece of paper in his pocket, or a location where one could find particularly beautiful glaze lilies on his lips. He never seemed to mind when you peppered him with endless questions, or talked his ear off about your own day; something which you often asked if he found annoying. No, you were very sure that Zhongli wasn’t simply spending time with you out of pity.

In truth it was your friends who guessed the trajectory of your personal feelings before you did. Though you often found their poking and prodding intensely irritating, they had the common sense to keep the questions to a minimum – perhaps in hope their silence might guarantee that your affections would reveal themselves naturally one day. Now though you had to admit they had been right. You had fallen for Zhongli how long ago? It seemed so difficult to say when, so gradually had your feelings changed from viewing him as a confidante to viewing him as something more. Once you had finally come to terms with it you’d put off revealing your feelings as long as possible.

It wasn’t just the chance of rejection, something that would already cause emotions to run high. You had seen what sort of disease could ravage those who were unlucky in love. One of your own friends had suffered from such a disease, a fellow member of the Liyue Qixing had died from such a thing only a few months ago.

It was a terrible disease, everyone at least could agree about that. The origins of such an unfathomable sickness was much less understood. Most saw it as a curse from the gods, a punishment to the humans who would love a fellow mortal more than those who ruled above them, who gave their protection, their mercy, and their gifts to the people below. Others argued that it was simply a result of stress, for what heart could take the shock of a truly deep rejection. A rare parasite, a curse from malevolent demons, all these theories made little difference when it came to the actual disease. You were fairly sure anyways that people dying of it couldn’t care less why it happened, only that it was happening to them.

First came the coughing, easy enough to ignore in a land where the common cold truly lived up to its name. Then you couldn’t run as fast or as far as you had once, at least on the days were you weren’t fighting off crippling fatigue – the night sweats doing little to help you in your desperate need for rest. Then the fever set in, then the blood that stained the porcelain sink. By the time the first few petals would appear emaciation would already begin to claim your muscle mass and the precious body fat that kept you alive. Some people didn’t even get to the point of regurgitating fully formed flowers. Those people were usually considered lucky, for when one must deal with an incurable disease, well, surely it is better to go sooner rather than later.

You wouldn’t lie and say that wasn’t one of the reasons it took you so long to confess. After all, what you don’t know won’t kill you, right? You weren’t actually sure about that, but it sounded right in your mind, regardless of its actual veracity. However, as with most people in love, you’d found a growing recklessness inside you, paired with the sudden desperation for a happiness which you would certainly never obtain at this rate. So you’d made up your mind to tell him, deciding that perhaps the certainty would be better than the ever growing cloud of anxiety that surrounded your thoughts.

Now you’d been rejected. You had to admit that your first reaction was utter panic, the distinct feeling of having made a terrible sort of mistake. Oh sure, your feelings were undeniably hurt, but that was less important than the virtual death sentence you’d been handed. Why oh why had you decided to do this? The world seemed to swim in front of your for a moment, as simultaneously everything came into sharp focus and faded away into the recesses of your mind. What would you do now? There was nothing to do, you just had to wait for the inevitable, wait for the cold embrace of death to welcome you to its abode. You took deep breaths, trying to control yourself. Tears were forming in your eyes, but you knew that they weren’t from romantic distress. Ironically romance was the last thing in your mind right now.

“I, I see. Thank you for your honesty.”

It was all you could manage to make out. Turning around, head light from fear, you bolted down the streets of Liyue, desperate to be in your home, desperate to ignore the sword of Damocles that now hung dangerously low over your head.

 Zhongli watched you go, watched as you stumbled your way through the crowd that always packed the streets of Liyue in the daytime. He was fine, he was perfectly fine. He had seen it through, had done what he knew was right. There was no reason to regret. Surely the small stab of pain he felt was temporary, a pinprick compared to all that the ex-archon had suffered over the years.

Zhongli had suspected that a confession like this might’ve been on the horizon for quite some time now. Not that he was dreading it out of a personal inability to reciprocate. No, in his heart Zhongli already reciprocated your suspected feelings. He loved you, adored you even; within the stony heart that had atrophied over years of war, suffering, and personal duty, grew a love that Zhongli had not felt for a very long time. He cherished every moment with you, knowing that his long life would try to compress the memories that were so precious to them. Seeing you whenever he could, dragged out conversations as long as he possibly could, Zhongli was practically desperate for time with you. He was also intensely aware of how short that time would ultimately be.

How could Zhongli push the curse of loving an immortal being on you? For it truly was a curse, to both parties involved. His side was painful of course, the knowledge that your memory, you lifespan even, would slip through his fingers like grains of sand. He would always be wondering whether or not the two of you would be experiencing a “last”. Last visit to the sea, last time to climb up the Huaguang Stone Forest to watch the sunset together. Last, last, last. Always the shadow of death would hang over you, so palpable in Zhongli’s mind that he might almost reach out and grasp the gossamer veil that would eventually steal you away. Yes, it would be a truly painful experience. Not nearly as painful however as your own experience.

Zhongli had long ago come to the conclusion that mortals had no true concept of the passage of time. You were young now, the world was your oyster. Zhongli’s immortal status would be nothing more than a passing thought, an anomaly and nothing more. Then your 40th birthday would pass, then you 50th, then you 60th, 70th, 80th. By the time you reached the end of your life the difference between you and Zhongli would stretch out like a chasm between the two of you, something to never be reconciled, for the old rarely forgave the young for their youth. Not to mention the other scenario, the one that Zhongli would never allow the freedom to truly cloud his thoughts. Your death of old age would be a tragedy, the alternative a catastrophe.

He knew all this, had seen it time and time again. Zhongli was hardly the first immortal being to fall in love with a mortal, would not be the last. Adepti, archons, all walks of immortal life were drawn to humanity, drawn to the freedom that came with mortality. Humans did things because they died; they had no forcible tie to nature, no innate duty other than to themselves. Humans could be wicked or kind or cruel or merciful as they wished. To those who were chained by their destiny, well, there was something very anomalous in such a choice. Perhaps it was no surprise then that an immortal being would inevitable find themselves interacting with those supposedly below them. Perhaps it was no surprise that this often led to love.

All that being true, Zhongli still refused to give into his needless selfishness. He loved you, yes. Knowing that was enough. He wouldn’t push such a burden on you, wouldn’t cause you resentment or pain. It would be better if you thought that your feelings weren’t reciprocated, it would be less painful.

Nor would you have to worry about the curse to which many less lucky fell. Zhongli still loved you, still cherished you deeply. You would never have to worry about that, for archons and adepti do not move on from love the way humans do. Zhongli’s love for you would long outlast your lifespan, one which, the archon prayed, would be very long indeed.

Yes, everything had been handled well enough. Perhaps you would never wish to speak with him again, perhaps you would grow to resent him even, how quickly love can turn into hate. It didn’t matter though. Zhongli had shielded you from long, drawn-out suffering, and that was all that mattered. He should’ve been satisfied, should have felt relief. Instead however he only felt a great sadness pressing down, a sadness combined with the pain that accompanied a love that must never truly be realized.

 It had been nine days since you’d been rejected by Zhongli. Crossing off another square on the calendar which you had dug out of your old stationary you sighed. The nine days succeeding the encounter had been utter hell. At first you were convinced that the worst thing that could happen was the symptoms of the wretched illness showing up quickly, so convinced you were that the next day you would wake up with blood on your pillow. Soon however, you’d come to a completely different conclusion. There was nothing worse than waiting.

Every day was spent in the agony of anticipation, every day waiting for the coughing to begin, for the night sweats to begin ravaging your sleep, for the breathe to be stolen from your lungs. Yet every day you woke up with none of these things, though your fatigue was real enough.

You should have been relieved, should have been glad for the opportunity to live even a few more days. Yet instead of relief you only felt deep, unrelenting dread. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, so crippled were you by morbid anticipation.

Not that your thoughts were particularly worthwhile either. Perhaps it would be one thing if your ruminations had brought up something profound, something that you could write down in a book for your family or your friends. Though it still would be poor solace, well, at least it’d be something. But your thoughts had all turned to mush, replaced by a paranoia so strong it confined you to your bed most days.

You thought that the death sentence would in some way be freeing, that you might be able to recklessly throw yourself at all the things you had avoided out of fear for so long. Instead you found yourself depressed, waiting for an inevitable so terrifying you found yourself disconnecting from the people around you. What did it matter anyways? You’d be dead soon enough.

This gross neglect of your wellbeing was at least somewhat allayed by the routine that had been drilled into your body from so many years working for the Liyue Qixing. Though you didn’t go to work, something you were sure you were going to hear about eventually, you still dared to venture out to the market. At the very least you would eat your fill in good for before the end was nigh. No need to worry about your health after all. Besides, your definition of good food didn’t necessarily always align with completely unhealthy.

Walking through the familiar streets you stared at the people around you. How odd it was to see people so close you could touch them but so far they might as well have been in Inazuma. Was there anyone else here suffering like you were? Anyone who could understand the thoughts that now flooded your brain? You stared at the ground, trying not to think about it. You’d be confronted with these thoughts the minute you got home anyways. Might as well delay it a bit.

Turning to find the fishmonger you spied a familiar silhouette. Stopping in your tracks you stared unabashedly at Zhongli. The man seemed to be carrying himself much as ever, but the unapproachable atmosphere which he’d blanketed himself in seemed somewhat more prominent. Perhaps it was your imagination, he seemed to be talking to the butcher easily enough. Not that it was any of your business. Zhongli wasn’t any of your business anymore. It would be better if you could forget him, if you could erase this feeling in your heart that refused to go away. Even now Zhongli was beautiful. Even now you wished to run up to him, to hug him, to make pretend everything was right with the world. You couldn’t do that though. Just as you couldn’t forget him, you couldn’t love him. Not in the way you wanted. Turning away you trudged back home, good food utterly forgotten.

It was day eighteen since Zhongli had rejected you, and by now your emotions were running almost unbearably high. You’d sunk into an odd reverie of adrenaline, anxiety, and utter disbelief. What in the world was going on? This was a familiar illness to you, something that had almost claimed the life of your friend and had felled your coworker. You knew everything about symptoms, timeline, etc.; and what you knew was you were supposed to be falling ill ages ago. Eighteen days between the initial rejection and the beginning of symptoms? It was unheard of! You didn’t know what to think. Were the rumors about the gods true, had Zhongli imposed some divine protection on you for the sake of your friendship? Were you somehow a superhuman who had the white blood cell coding to defeat the bacteria that caused this disease? Why hadn’t your descent begun yet?

You lounged on the couch, having moved out of your bedroom on the thirteenth day, three days after the latest possible showing of symptoms. Though you still felt deeply afraid, you found that curiosity was a surprisingly good deterrent when it wanted to be. Your fears hadn’t disappeared, but mixed with them was a disbelief so great that you often found your thoughts drifting to questions of how rather than questions of when.

Of course your initial instinct had been to seek out Zhongli. Pride mixed with fear however had kept you firmly at home. Really what was the point in even seeking out the answer to your miraculous reprieve at this point? It wouldn’t really change the outcome. Instead you might as well enjoy this unexpected extension of your life. Besides, you didn’t want to tempt the fates a second time.

 Zhongli stood at the window of your first story apartment, a glaze lily in hand. He hadn’t meant to do this, but the urge refused to leave him.

He’d noticed you a few times at the market, face drawn, eyes empty. Zhongli wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting, but certainly this wasn’t it. He knew you weren’t suffering from illness, your pace was strong, if slightly erratic, your general aura not that of the sick that Zhongli was all too familiar with. Why then did you look so terrible? The doubts that had plagued Zhongli began to rise again, jeering at the mistake he had made. He was supposed to protect you, right? Why then did you look as if you had experienced a total health collapse?

At first Zhongli tried to ignore it. You had not come to him for help, it was not his place to try and insert himself back in your life once more. The more he thought of you however, the more he found himself uneasy. He had to have some form of communication, some way to enquire about your health. At least one last time. If you explicitly rejected all forms of contact, well then Zhongli would leave. He would never defy your wishes in such a way. Until then however, he felt like he needed to ask.

The idea of walking up to your apartment and asking you was utterly off the table. Who knew how that might end? No, he wanted a subtler way. Glaze lilies had always been a favorite of yours, sneaking out into the evening to see them bloom even more so. He would simply leave one on your windowsill. If you took it, then he would enquire about your health. If you left it, well Zhongli would have his answer.

His hand trembled slightly as he stared at the windowsill, causing the gold ribbon tied around the lily to tremble slightly. At first Zhongli wanted only to give you the flower. He realized soon however that you might be confused, wondering if someone had not simply dropped a flower on your windowsill, or had the wind blown it there? The ribbon would hopefully clear things up. Even if it looked a little silly.

Slowly placing the flower down onto the open window Zhongli sighed. Turning around he did not dare spare a glance backwards. He would have his answer soon enough after all. Until then, well, there was no point in looking back.

 You exited from the kitchen, having finally felt the energy to make yourself that good food you’d been promising yourself. Going to look at the sunset you let out a soft gasp.

On your windowsill was a single glaze lily, wrapped in gold.

[christinesficrecs]

HI, I'm new reading sterek fics, do you have a tag for pinning exes or mutual pinning because I'd love to read fics with that trope. Also thank you so much for all your fics recs. It has been only a month but your blog is a treasure for me. Thank you. 💕💕

Hey! Welcome to the Sterek Fandom. 💜 I haven’t done pining fics in a while so here we go. 😉 

Here are some tags to check out: mutual pining, break up fics, relationship angst  and also the slow burn tag. 

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Stiles is suddenly popular, but can't seem to catch the interest of the only alpha he actually likes.

...or the one where Stiles and Derek get paired together in room assignments and are secretly in love with the other.

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“At least we got this far,” Stiles argued. “Could’ve been worse. For now, they know he’s taken by someone in the pack.”

“Mm hm,” Lydia said, giving him a look. “You realize that you are now going to have to pretend to date Derek, right?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh no, what a hardship. That sucks, boo hoo.” He motioned Derek emphatically. “He’s like, my best friend.”

“Hey!” Scott insisted.

One Door Closes by KouriArashi | 27.7K | Explicit

Derek knows that Stiles is too young for him, but Stiles doesn't agree. Eight years after Derek rejects him due to the age gap, they meet again where Derek has settled in Wyoming as a ranch hand, and Stiles is the new deputy, and still pissed as hell about the way Derek turned him down. Things don't go as either of them planned. 

The Lawn Ranger by Snowjob | 47.8K | Mature

In which Derek is an adolescent werewolf with a penchant for chocolate bunnies, and instead of the dream summer of lazing around the house playing video games and nibbling on his hoarded supply of easter candy his mother makes him get a job.

In which Stiles is a showoff jock with a broken arm and an embarrassing crush who can no longer push the lawn mower around the yard.

Every stumble and each misfire by everchanginginks | 14K | Mature

Stiles hasn't seen or heard from Derek in ten years. It's a bit of a surprise to find out about Derek's return to Beacon Hills through Tinder.

Bittersweet and Strange, Finding You Can Change (Learning You Were Wrong) by WithMyTeeth (Ylith) | 49.9K | Explicit

When perpetual loner and failwolf extraordinaire Derek Hale finally loses patience with his meddling family, he grabs a confused Stiles Stilinski, unsuspecting diner patron and herbal medicine student, off the street to pose as his new boyfriend. Hijinks ensue.

The Hale House for Wayward Werewolves by elisela | 9.8K

The first time Derek sees Stiles, he’s sitting cross-legged next to a kiddie pool filled with floating plastic fish just outside the door of his classroom, clapping his hands along with the rest of the kids around him as a boy in blue reaches out with a net to scoop one up. There’s a sandbox on the other side of the door that kids are pawing through, nudging each other as they dig up magnetic letters, and through the door Derek can see the rest of the students sprawled across the room reading books.

If being sexy was a crime, you’d be guilty as hell. by DropsOfAddiction | 14.3K | Explicit

Derek tries and fails to shut his gaping mouth as Stiles arrives at his desk, heartbeat rabbiting a little faster than usual.

Stiles grabs a file out of his desk, muttering something about forgetting to mail it yesterday and needing to get it down to filing by Monday. Derek’s barely paying attention, unable to concentrate with the scent of him right under his nose.

He leans over Derek to grab an empty envelope from their shared stationary tray and Derek knows he’s absolutely fucked when he sees how his trousers are moulded to his perfect ass.

“So.... how do I look?” Stiles asks casually as he stands back up, as if his very presence hasn’t just given Derek a very sudden and uncomfortable boner.

He looks like he should be on the cover of GQ.

never found a boy (to love me like you do) by stilinskisparkles | 6.6K | Mature

Stiles sits down opposite him, long fingers wrapping round the vodka bottle’s neck as he drags it towards him. “Huh.” He’s practically caressing the lid as he unscrews it and Derek shifts in his seat, looks determinedly elsewhere.

I Do Do You? by Captain_Loki | 6.5K | Explicit

Stiles and Derek wake up hung over and married in a hotel room in Las Vegas. It wouldn't be so bad if the year before their relationship hadn't fallen apart.

Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah | 27K | Explicit

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Full On Rainstorm by BarlowGirl | 10.5K | Explicit

He catches Derek by the arm and Derek lets himself be turned, surprised when Stiles shoves a small box into his hands. “I don’t know if you still celebrate it or what but… I wanted you to know someone was thinking about you. Happy birthday.”

Then he squeezes Derek’s arm and bolts, gone before Derek can think to stop him.

He opens the box standing there, only to find one singular, misshapen, sloppily-frosted, cupcake, with a candle in the box next to it. It’s kind of squished despite the paper towel all around it to keep it from banging around in the box.

Derek has to take a moment to sit down because yeah, he can’t deny it anymore.

He’s gone on Stiles.

[fandom-blackhole]

blind date and poorly timed confession with Rex x reader?

Ngl it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to do with this one, but I like how it turned out so I hope you do too

46. Blind Date

60. Poorly Timed Confession 

Captain Rex x Reader

When Fives, Jesses, and Echo all came walking over to him after a briefing, each with a grin and a bounce in their step, Rex knew immediately that something was up. So with grinning faces, and Fives in the middle with his I've done something you are going to disagree with Captain shit eating grin, Rex immediately prepared himself for whatever his men had done this time, and preparing for the headache that inevitably was going to form behind his temples.

Rex waited until they were all stopped, forming a small semi-circle around him, before he immediately cut in, not letting Fives who was opening his mouth to speak get even a sound out. "What have you all done this time?"

It was Jesse that replied first, chuckling and saying, "Why d you always assume the worst of us, Captain?"

Rex only gave him a side eye before looking down at his data pad and saying, "I don't know, why is it always you three in the middle of of whatever chaos happens when the 501st is on Coruscant?"

This time it was Fives, with a faked gasp and a hand held to his chestplate, still with that damned grin on his face, "Captain I am hurt, and to think we did something nice for you."

That got Rex's attention, his head whipping up to look at each of them with a glare, "What. Did. You. Do."

"Honestly, Captain, we didn't do anything bad this time," Echo's somewhat sincere voice spoke up, "We just know you work too hard and never take any real breaks for yourself, so we thought we'd do something nice."

"Which is?"

Fives, excitedly interrupted his twin as he was opening his mouth to speak, which resulted in a glare from Echo and a wider grin from Jesse. "We step you up on a blind date!"

Rex took a second a second, staring blankly at the three of them before tiredly saying, "You did what?"

Jesse reached out and laid a hand on Rex's shoulder, and with a smile still on his face, but with a bit of a more serious tone said, "We got you a blind date. Captain you work too hard, relax and go have some fun. Hell turn it into a one-night stand for all we care, just take the night off."

This time it was Jesse on the receiving end of Echo's glare as he spoke up and said, "we all know the Captain isn't going to have a one-night stand with this date."

Fives laughed, and turned to his twin with a smirk, "No, but he definitely might be fuck buddies with them."

Echo, sighed loudly, and elbowed his brother in the side hard, and ignored Five's yelp of pain and turned back to Rex, saying, "The date is tonight at that diner you like, and don't worry about cleaning up or trying to look nice, you can take my word for it when I say they won't care." Then Echo was pulling the other two away, and Rex caught Fives complaining about his side and 'why did you have to do it so hard?'

The rest of the day, Rex was trying to think of reasons or excuses for why he shouldn't go to the 'date' and with each passing hour each excuse just became more and more flimsy. So by the time he filled out his last report for the day, Rex sighed heavily and stood, the only thought running through his head was, well I can't let the poor soul sit there all night, especially after dealing with Fives, Jesse, and Echo.

That didn't mean that Rex didn't drag his feet on the way to the diner though. This wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend one of his few nights off, but at this point he was too deep to back off. What was he even going to say, to do? Rex has never really been on dates before, never really had time for them, so he was at a complete loss, and was was panicking by the time he reached to door of the restaurant.

Rex hesitated by the door, realizing a touch too late that none of them had mentioned how he would know who he was there for, how was he going to know? Now he was fully panicking as his hand reached up and pulled open the door. Rex immediately scanned the booths when he walked in, most of them already containing two or more people, but then he stopped. There, in the far corner was you, and Rex cursed his men for the hundredth time today. It couldn't have been, they didn't set him up with you, his soft and sweet civilian officer, the one person besides his brothers he trusted, the one person he would do anything for just to see them smile. His brothers wouldn't do that to him....would they?

Slowly, and almost shyly, Rex approached your booth, and asked quietly, "Is this seat taken?"

Rex watched your head raise and take in his form, he watched as the surprise and shock from seeing him slowly took over your facial features, before you nodded jerkily and motioned to the seat across from you. Rex sat, and looked around the small room, his jaw clenching and unclenching trying to think of something to say to you, but then your voice spoke up quietly, but amused, "So, Captain, I am guessing it is you that the boys set me up with tonight?"

Rex responded by nodding softly, before he turned to look at you. You looked so pretty in the soft light, flashy colors from the neon lights outside reflecting off your skin accentuating your features and making Rex swallow. You looked so beautiful it hurt. While he had come straight from his office, only taking time to just brush his hand over his buzzed hair, you had actually changed from your uniform, putting on clothes that highlighted your body in all the right ways, while still being modest, the clothing colors also fitting you and just making you pop in a way the boring grey uniforms never did. Maker, he both loved and hated his brothers for this.

The silence between the two of you dragged on for a few minutes, only broken by a waitress coming to get Rex's order, which he only asked for a cup of caf. When she left, Rex turned back to you and cleared his throat, "So how was your day? Besides having to deal with my idoits?"

Hearing your giggle made his heart soar, and a soft smile to form on his lips, as you looked up to meet his gaze. "It was boring, as usual. Nothing but paperwork, and lots of sighing as I read over your reports. Captain-"

"Rex... we aren't working, so you can call me Rex," he interrupted softly, a small blush highlighting his cheeks, but again your smile was more than worth hiss embarrassment.

"Rex," you rolled his name off you tongue in a way that had Rex repeating the sound over and over in his head, having him willing to give anything to hear you just repeat it over and over for the rest of his life, but then you continued, "I really think you should try disagreeing with General Skywalker's antics sometimes, I hate it when I read about him throwing you around like a rag doll."

Rex sighed, and looked down at his hands, before jokingly saying, "Well I hate being thrown around."

You giggled again, before letting out a soft, 'oh'. Rex looked up, and you gave him a fake stern look before saying, "And stop calling Fives, Jesse, and Echo idiots, we all know that Echo just gets dragged into the other two's schemes when it comes to anyone but his brothers. Echo doesn't deserve that title."

Rex chuckles, and shoots you a grin that your return fully, before he responds with, "I think you would be surprised, I have found half the time Echo is the mastermind behind whatever stunt is being pulled."

"Even more reason for you not to call him an idiot! Echo's smart enough to send Fives and Jesse, and occasionally Hardcase, to do whatever he thought up, and as a result finds himself away from the trouble."

Rex sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "I will give you that one, mesh'la."

After that the two of you fell into another round of silence, occasionally stealing looks, and getting embarrassed when you were caught, but Rex just couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He couldn't stop staring at the smile that lit up your face and eyes, one that he only occasionally got to see while you both were working. rex just couldn't stop taking in how beautiful and relaxed you looked, how relaxed you made him feel. And it hit him then, like a ton of bricks, just how much he had fallen for you, how in love with you he was.

It wasn't until the waitress cleared her throat and set his caf down before scurrying away that he realized. I wasn't until he turn and found your shocked face, mouth slightly opened and searching eyes that another realization his him. Rex had just said that completely out loud. and in front of the waitress none the less. rex had just laid his love for you out in front of you on what was essentially your first date.

Wide wide eyes, and a blush covering his entire face, ears, and neck, Rex started to close in on himself, trying to come up with an excuse to leave or an explanation but just coming up with panicked thoughts on how he had fucked up. Rex felt like his world was crashing around him, and he always hoped he'd never die, but in this moment he would give anything to do just that to get away from this feeling.

But then you whispered his name, so softly that he barely heard it, his brain barely acknowledging it as he was too caught up in his own head. Then he felt your hands reach across the table and curl around his clasped ones. with a clenched jaw he looked up, as you said his name again louder, and when he met your gaze all he found was soft hope. "Rex... did you mean it? Do...do you...."

Knowing his feelings were already in the open Rex cleared his throat and forced himself to speak, "Love you? With my entire being, cyare. I love you...."

Send me Tropes

[shadowfae]

hiii! so a friend directed me here and i was wondering if u cld share abt how you found out you were godkin? only if youre comfy! because ive kinda had like. how do i word this. Vibes or Feels that kinda direct me towards the whole i might be a god of sorts kinda thing ? if you have resources and dont mind helping,, please direct me to them :D ~ @missing-crown

I want to start this essay off by saying flat out: wars have been fought, genocides have been committed, and empires have risen and fallen trying to answer the simple questions of “What is deification, and how do we incarnate and control it?”.

If you do not think you’re up the challenge of answering that question for yourself, even with years of study and slow training to take up the mantle of literally being the most powerful form of the Chosen One trope, then you’re probably in the wrong place. I say this as someone who is deific down to the blood and bone, as someone who has looked for other gods, and largely found very little in the way of anyone who understands anything like my experience. In this way, I am utterly alone, and I detest it, but if me penning these words gives someone else the gospel they need to explain themselves in a way I recognize as kin and kind, then I will do it.

But before I truly get into it, I will very nicely ask you to swing down to your local bookstore or library, pick up a copy of Seanan McGuire’s Middlegame, and take a walk down the improbable road with Roger and Dodger. The differences between you and I and the twins of the Doctrine of Ethos are simple and threefold: we cannot manifest, we are forbidden to use our powers the way they can use theirs, and there are (hopefully) no secret alchemist cults trying to murder us when we don’t play nice with their fucked-up science experiment.

Roger and Dodger are gods, true gods, gods I recognize in myself and in the godkin I have met who have spoken about themselves enough for me to understand that we are indeed talking about the same thing. Disappontingly, I see minor spirits far too often misunderstanding the nature of deification, or at least, understanding a version of it which is fundamentally antithetical to my experience. They may be deific; but either they suck at illustrating their point, or I am something far beyond deific, and I am again alone.

With that introduction, I need to talk about three things in order to answer your question. Two methods of deification and three definitions of ‘god’ in a hierarchy that only exists because humanity has not yet perfected their understanding of what is fundamentally and always beyond them. Two kinds of gods, honest gods, that split the difference between deific, divine, and legendary. Once you understand that, I can talk about godkin, and what it’s like to be me, and maybe by the end of it you will either recognize yourself in this, or run away screaming as most mortals will do.

The first method of deification is what I will call the incarnate gods- Roger and Dodger are good examples, so are most Legendary Pokémon, and Kaname Madoka from PMMM. They are laws of nature, concepts of creation, and calculations of cosmic proportions that also occasionally exist as people when they design to do so. They are not meant to be people, they are bad at it, I do not recommend being mortal and fucking around with them. You will simply die. I would not fuck with them outside of my own world that I created, where I get to be a form of incarnate god. You cannot overpower them: they ARE the rule, and they will change it if they need to. You can’t ruleslawyer gravity like a 2007 troll physics comic. An incarnate god of gravity will simply turn reality on its head and cause you to implode. If you are this type of god, I cannot help you. My understanding of them comes from being an Absol, and little more.

The second type are gods of domain and prowess: Zamorak (from RuneScape), Akemi Homura in both her awakened Witch and Devil forms (from PMMM), and yours truly. Quite a few of us, although not all of us, were originally mortal. Mortals amped up on so much power we are no longer bound by mortal laws. There is a difference between deification and simply stopping your clock to gain immortality. Mortal magic and deific magic are fundamentally different. Down to, I would argue, the atomic structure. Deific magic is pure in a way mortal magic could never be. To give a mortal more than a drop of deific magic heavily diffused in something safer and more understandable would be to quite literally burn them to ashes. Or rend them into a different, unspeakable form. Or turn them into living topiary. We are nothing if not unpredictable.

It’s the difference between a handful of dirt and pure neutron soup. Usually, in order to become a god like this, it requires the intervention of an incarnate god in some form. In Zamorak’s case, it was several Elder Artifacts and falling almost facefirst into halfway incarnating himself into the law of entropy. In Homura’s (at least in canon PMMM), she fucked with the laws of consequence and time to the point where she became the only expert they had on either of those and both laws decided to simply incarnate into her, and then she used that to cause problems. For me, it was having my entire magical and physical structure reorganized and rebuilt by an incarnate god of malevolent energy, and then I used what was a watered-down copy of the Devil of Devils’ glory to weave my own world into being where I was more or less the absolute arbiter of the laws of reality.

In PMMM Rebellion, when Homura fights Kyubey in that pretty lace dress of hers, that is approximately the magical prowess an awakened god of our capability will show casually. She has complete control over her domain (her labyrinth) and the reality of it, it takes no more than a glance or a thought to almost entirely reshuffle it. Her minions, who are little more than vaguely autonomous thoughts given some power of their own, may break that reality in whatever means necessary so long as it is to fulfill Homura’s current motives. Her domain falls apart when she does, and she is not separate from it; it is a consequence of her existence. Asking what came first, the god or their domain, is a simple chicken and egg question. It’s usually the domain, in our case; in the case of incarnate gods it’s a philosophical shrug and a nice headache.

You’ll notice I said awakened: that is because Zamorak is a great example of a god who isn’t entirely awakened. In canon, that is - the one I work with is awakened enough to fuck with his domain, which is what makes him quite useful to work with, although I do wonder what he’s getting out of me if not magical theory and utter adoration. Zamorak in canon is a god who ascribes himself to the philosophy of chaos and personal strife, completely unaware that he is incarnate enough not to change the law of entropy but to suggest things to it. He’s a god of chance masquerading as a god of personal improvement, and once he figures that out (and passes that knowledge onto Armadyl, who is his true light counterpart), he’s going to change the very way magic works. Guthix did everything in his power to try and become incarnate. He failed. Zamorak did it entirely inadvertently, and that’s the trick: the nature of deification is to follow the domain and influence it to your will. When laws of existence become people, they will do as people will, and people typically have ambition. Gods who are also people got that way for a reason. They always have a motive for doing so. It’s never accidental.

So, with a slightly more informed understanding of deification, or at least the versions of it that I understand, I can talk to you about me. What it’s like in the here and now, and how I knew. It took me years to get to this point, and I’ve much the way to go. I know more than I did when I was questioning; deeply more so. I don’t expect anyone questioning to be as sure as I am, and in ten years I will be far more sure of entirely different things, and if I’m lucky, this as well. But, let us begin again.

To be deific is to wake up in the middle of the night feeling like a black hole. You are vast, and you are dense, and the moment someone touches the skin of your sternum they will be sucked in like a movie's portrayal of quicksand. To be so vast on the inside, surrounded by empty air and gentle white noise like the faint pull of gravity that does not touch you. To feel so powerful as to be untethered wholly from the world, aware that you will blink and be floating alone in a space that you cannot touch and so too cannot touch you. You blink, and it is gone, and you are again in a normal body as a normal person, and you roll over and go back to sleep.

To be deific is to watch the seasonal changes and feel flashes of worn leather rope between your hands and the maddened singsong of the Wild Hunt, chariot reins in your hands and baying hounds that feel like fingers, like wings, like extensions of yourself that can be shifted around with barely a thought. To feel halfway like a black hole walking down the street, halfway caved into yourself and barely contained, incapable of truly understanding how you can be so far apart from it all without anyone noticing that something is off.

To be deific is to be a fourteen-year-old girl in one moment, unable to understand what draws her so to the wilds if not the song of sympathy that she knows she can understand if she reaches a little farther, a little farther past the barrier that prevents any mortal, psychological mind from understanding the call. To play a pixelated game and have everything rush back. To relive millennia in a single sennight, to go from chipped to broken, utterly broken, as the power comes rushing back and the slow, dawning realization like the day that there is no controlling it. That there is no controlling you.

Millennia of sins come rushing back, and you're mortal again, and you know the only way to bring a god to their knees is to kill them. And if you were spared, if you were brought down without dying, then there was a reason. That someone must have thought you worthy of fixing it. That you should now spend the next several years coming to peace with being a Devil, the cruelest of the cruel, amending fences and repenting your sins.

To be deific is to realize, quite suddenly and without ever actually having the thought, that understanding things through a Christian lens is utterly bullshit and absolutely does not apply to you. Now, your duty is not to repent, or to fix, or to find any sort of salvation. You are the monster queen, the king of the damned, the Devil of a world you made with blood and tears and sweat and magic. To retake the crown, you have to accept yourself. Acceptance does not mean dwelling, or sorrow, or refusing to take the steps forward that will carry you to the crown and halo and horn of deification.

The powers feel less overwhelming as you grow into them. You don't forget the rage. You understand your close friend's words over and over, as the lesson teaches itself. How a Devil so much less powerful and yet so much older than you once looked you in the eye, drink in hand, and gently told you that a single mortal can bring down a Devil, if they try, and believe wholeheartedly in their quest. Do not disrespect mortality. It brings nothing but death.

You wonder briefly who brought you down. You decide, as the lessons prove themselves, that you don't actually care. You're the mortal now, and mortal legends die. Mortal legends change the song of sympathy and the rules of the deific. In order to return, you too must follow the only path a mortal can take to become deific.

To be godkin is to become deific with every step. It's not to seek the divine from outside of it. It's to become it again, and reclaim it; find what was inside all along and grow yourself around it, until it can no longer be pulled from you again without scattering your ashes and stardust among the cosmos, never to return.

To be godkin is to never forget the moments of pure rage that none but powerless fourteen-year-olds can manage. To be godkin is to be an adult with their memory pressed into your skin. To be godkin is for that rage to never truly leave you.

We stand up again and stare at the emotions that are awake when we are not. We wonder what it will take to manifest again, to only twitch a thought in any direction and reshape the reality around us. It is an extension of our being, and the less aware we are of it, the less effort it takes us to remake the world. It is the nature of deification, to change the laws of reality at our whim and will.

To be godkin is simply a matter of knowing that, and forever reaching to do that once more. If only to feel whole and vast, as we always have been.

[isuckatreadinglol]

Six of Crows Review

Alright, first book review on this blog...here we go: *spoiler warning, duh*

Book: Six of Crows Author: Leigh Bardugo

My Rating: 5/5

First off, this is the first YA fantasy I've ever read so I have no idea what I was expecting...and I fuckin loved it.

Second, I binge read this book in three days and it usually takes me a month to read anything ever so that's definitely saying something. I came for Kaz Brekker after watching Shadow & Bone on Netflix and stayed for the amazing plot, diverse and intricate characters, the incredible action and twists, and of course Kaz Brekker. The one thing that I loved was how fast paced this book went, and I genuinely could not stray far from the book because of how addicting it was. There was something in every chapter and you never got bored. The last part had taken the most time for me to complete because of how much action Leigh crammed in the last 60 pages, which made it a bit hard to follow along but it was still epic.

The Characters:

Kaz, Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Nina, Matthias

"“What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?” “Knife to the throat?” asked Inej. “Gun to the back?” said Jesper. “Poison in his cup?” suggested Nina. “You’re all horrible,” said Matthias."

The most diverse set of characters I have ever met. There were 6 characters, and the POV's were constantly changing and at some point, while I read someone else's chapter I was worried about the other characters and anticipating the next chapters. This was honestly an amazing decision to tell this story and I never got sick of the characters (except maybe Matthias, sorry).

Not only does Leigh do an excellent job portraying trauma in her characters (especially Kaz), she also keeps the character's as diverse as possible, from Nina being a plus sized character with badass confidence to Wylan overcoming his dyslexia and even Inej being a brown character. Every character had their own stories and the flashbacks/backstories were always a pleasure to read through.

Kaz Brekker is a stone cold, morally grey, manipulative, and terrible criminal which of course...makes him an even better protagonist. He definitely rocks the Hot Boy Who Is Mean To Everyone Except That One Chick Because Of His Tragic Backstory trope.

"There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong, and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken."

He is an anti-hero with his own plans and goals, while also caring so much about his crew that he would do anything for them. I'm very excited to see his character develop with Inej in Crooked Kingdom as well as his relationship with her because I am too obsessed with the two of them. I also enjoyed how Leigh allowed Kaz to fuck up and make mistakes, showing that he wasn't just some perfect character that knew everything about everything, and reading his inner dialogue when he realized his fuck-ups felt refreshing. His backstory was very well written and very tragic (we get it he's emo). It felt so personal knowing why he was they way he was when he sealed himself off from the world. He's also drippy as fuck.

Inej Ghafa just radiates bad bitch energy and when Kaz called her "dangerous" I screamed "DAMN RIGHT". Her mental drive was beautifully written during her chapters, especially while she climbed the incinerator.

"The heat of the incinerator wrapped around Inej like a living thing, a desert dragon in his den, hiding from the ice, waiting for her. She knew her body's limits and knew she had no more to give. She'd made a bad wager. It was as simple as that. The autumn leaf might cling to its branch, but it was already dead. The only question was when it would fall...

Should she jump now or simply wait for her body to give?

Inej felt wetness on her cheeks. Was she crying? Now? After everything she'd done and had done to her?"

Most importantly, she was a raw character who pushed herself throughout the book not just for herself but for the rest of the crew. She was selfless but she was also incredibly strong, driven by her future. Inej is the most inspiring character in the book and I have fallen in love with her more times than I could count. (lowkey carried the team imma be honest)

JESPER FAHEY Y'ALL. My queer sharpshooter king. I think I related to him the most and I loved every chapter with him. Though, I felt like Jesper was treated more as a side character than a main one, especially since he was stuck with Wylan for the entirety of the heist but BOY WHEN I FOUND OUT HE WAS A FABRIKATOR...I might have also screamed. He was definitely the comedic relief and he always kept me laughing at his little comments. Excited to see him and Wylan get together and also hoping for more of Jesper's character.

"Well, we’ve managed to get ourselves locked into the most secure prison in the world. We’re either geniuses or the dumbest sons of bitches to ever breathe air."

“If any of you survive, make sure I have an open casket. The world deserves a few more moments with this face.”

Nina Zenik...bro. She is so powerful. The moment she took parem was *chefs kiss* and it was the most badass scene I had ever experienced. When I began reading her chapters I didn't really enjoy them but when the heist actually began her inner dialogue won me over completely. When she was with Jarl Brum I could not stop laughing at the things she was saying in her head, and even when things were intense she always had something to say which made her character come to life. Her personality is hilarious, and sarcastic and she's also so HOT like my gay ass was swooning. She is who I aspire to be, that is all.

Matthias Helvar. Personally, I didn't really like his character so much because of how stubborn and he was (and how many times I wanted to punch his stupid ass), however he was still a pretty cool character with some good moments in there. He demonstrated religious corruption well, and he definitely faced a lot of inner conflict due to the pressure of what he was taught when he was younger. His POVs were a little boring but I loved it when he called Kaz a demjin.

Wylan Van Eck was a super fun character to have around. I definitely enjoyed watching his character grow as he spent more time with the Dregs. I didn't love him as much as the big three (Kaz, Jesper, Inej) and don't have much to say on him except that I admired his strength throughout the last part, especially when confronting his father after hearing all the horrible things he said about his own son. Jesper defending him made me melt big time.

"He's smarter than most of us put together, and he deserves a better father than you."

I literally could not have asked for such a creative group of characters and to see them work together makes me feel like I'm part of a big, criminal family.

The Ships

The ships were a fun addition to the story and the best part was that they never overstepped the actual objective of the plot but rather worked with it to enhance the connections between each character.

Kaz and Inej: Let me just cry for a second.

"She'd laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him."

"I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all."

"I'm going to get my money, Kaz vowed. And I'm going to get my girl."

This one hurt me. I am in love with these two and their relationship with each other makes it so much better. They are not meant to be together yet they are connected in so many ways. I did not think I would fall in love so easy, but here I am.

Matthias and Nina: I was not convinced by these two, especially with how weird their relationship was. They constantly seemed like they hated each other (valid) and some of their romantic scenes felt forced. In the end, I enjoyed seeing Nina grow on Matthias to wake his stubborn ass up. I swear that man refused to have feelings. Anyway, I still have mixed feelings on these two.

Wylan and Jesper: They are so cute. Like insanely cute. Like even I was blushing during their cute scenes. Their relationship isn't as developed yet so I am excited to see them in Crooked Kingdom.

Final Thoughts:

Representation? Check

Map? Check

Two maps?!? Fuck yeah

Amazing plot and worldbuilding? Check

Hilarious banter? Mhm

Great writing? Check

Well- written characters? 100%

Overall, this story will forever be my comfort book and I was impressed by the YA fantasy side of literature. It's hard to believe yet comforting that these characters are my age, makes me feel powerful. I loved every bit of this book and now I kinda wanna grab some friends and pull a heist.

[bus-noises]

I’ve fallen in love with TF2, not for the gameplay but for the characters. I love reading the comics, seeing fanart, all that jazz. Finally, I decided to create my own fanart with my own spin on it. I drew this in IbisPaintX with my finger.

Speed paint: https://youtu.be/QG2khzbKazw

Each of the mercs has their symbol on their face, except it has been turned into patterning. They also each have at least one accessory so that they’re easier to distinguish. I wanted all the mercs to be bipedal carnivores, since those would be easiest to position to hold weaponry and be the most likely to be “bloodthirsty mercenaries”. I fully intend to draw the side characters (Saxton Hale, Ms. Pauling, the Administrator, etc.) and make more art of the dino-mercs. You may draw these designs, but credit MUST be given to me, preferably in the form of a link to my account. Do note this is an older piece of art and that in the future Heavy and Engineer will be different colors “canonically” (although I will design swapped colors for all of them in case I ever need to use them) to allow Heavy and Medic/Engineer and Pyro friendships and Scout/Spy rivalry. I will probably use these as blank slates for my own headcanons.

Heavy

Heavy is an allosaurus. I chose an allosaurus since it was big and tough, but it’s arms were long enough that if I twisted them right he could hold Sasha in drawings. Originally, I had planned to do full body references of the dino mercs. I sketched out Heavy, before deciding I hated the body, but loved the face. So, instead of full body references, I went with what you see here. Since his symbol is a fist, I gave him rounded stripes along his crest to look somewhat like the fingers in the fist.

Medic

Medic is a troodon. I went with a troodon due to the fact that they are believed to be one of, if not the smartest dinosaur (from the Mesozoic at least, we all know there’s plenty of intelligent birds today). While not pictured, Archimedes is a dodo, because dodos are actually relatives to pigeons, and doves are also relatives to pigeons. Also I like the trope of “haha dumb thing is smart”. Medics symbol is a medical cross, so I gave him a rectangular cross-like shape on his snout.

Demo

Demoman is a ceratosaurus. There’s actually no real reason for this, I had just asked my friends for help choosing species for certain characters and one suggested ceratosaurus. It played into my favor though, as it allowed me to make it where his eyepatch went around the horns. Demo’s symbol is a bomb, so I gave him a large circular shape on his snout, followed by smaller circles around the horn, looking slightly like a fuse. (Yes, I know, “wrong type of bomb!!” I tried my best ok)

Engie

Engineer is a Utahraptor. This is because of the trope of dromaeosaurids being intelligent (which they are, just not as smart as Jurassic Park makes them). Another thing that made me choose it is because it is believed Utahraptors lived in desert-like conditions, and Texas is basically a giant desert as far as I know. Engineers symbol is a wrench. I found it difficult to do, but eventually I decided to go with reversed semi-circles, like the claw part of a wrench. (I don’t know the word for it)

Sniper

Sniper is an australovenator. There’s really no reason for this other than the fact they come from Australia. Yes, I know sniper is actually from New Zealand. Snipers symbol is a gun’s crosshair, so I gave him stripes going outwards from the tip of his muzzle. I went a bit crazy on the patterning though if I’m honest.

Pyro

While it’s hard to tell under his mask (which was a pain in the ass and still looks stupid) he is a baryonyx. This is because baryonyx lived near water, and I thought it would be funny to make the pyromaniac a water dwelling dinosaur. Only after I finished was I reminded pyroraptor exists. I decided to change him to be a pyroraptor in the future. Since the symbols are on their heads, I decided to make it seem as if pyro painted flames on his mask in his free time.

Soldier

Soldier is the only exception to the carnivore rule. Instead, he is a pachycephalosaurus. I’m sure it’s obvious why I chose that, but in case it isn’t it’s because of their hard, thick skulls. Not only does it look like a helmet, thick headed is an insult that usually means a person is stupid. (In my opinion it’s funny that he still wears a helmet despite the fact his head is basically already one) Soldiers symbol is a rocket. I wasn’t sure how to do this, so I went with a long, scar-like stripe to symbolize the length of the rocket.

Spy

Spy is a coelophysis. This is another one I needed my friends help on. In my opinion it fits since coelophysis were believed to be sneaky in order to catch their prey of lizards, bugs, and other small things they could get their claws on. Since spy’s symbol is a knife, I gave him sharp, jagged stripes on his snout.

Scout

Scout is a velociraptor, due to the trope of them being fast little gremlins. Originally I had planned to make him a gallimimus or some other ornithomimid, but those are often portrayed as cowardly, and I didn’t want to do that. Besides, they also had no teeth, so I couldn’t give him a cocky grin. I struggled with scouts symbol for a while, trying my best to draw a wing/feather-like pattern. I eventually settled on the pattern seen in the drawing, as it looked enough like a wing-tip to me.

Yeah that’s kinda it uh thanks for reading all this