#paraphrasing it a bit for the most part) when they she stopped kissing him she said some kind about not spoiling him🥴🥴🥴

[foxgloveinspace]

Of all the thing this book could give me me, worship kink was not what I was expecting.

[eirikaanemo]

Venti's crush is a sister in the Church of Favonius. That's the entire prompt. Okay, she may have overheard Venti when he asked for the Holy Lyre and maaaaybe she gave it to him (in the name of freedom!), but she probably wouldn't be a sister after that.

Venti x GN!Reader

1.7k Words

Warnings: Eviction? Kinda?

Notes: So, halfway through I remembered "Sister" is a gendered term, so I switched it to "Disciple". Hopefully that still works!

Part 2: His Fight

His Lyre

He first caught your attention while he was doing a street performance. You were walking down the street, minding your own business, when you heard a melody so beautiful that you swore it had to be Barbatos himself. Following your curiosity, you found him performing a ballad for a group of children. His clear tenor painted looks of wonder on their faces as he regaled them with tales of Vanessa and the revolution of freedom.

You couldn’t help but stop to watch as well. He had captivated you as much as he had the children and you didn’t regret a thing. After Vanessa’s tale he sang of the fall of the storm god, the rise of Barbatos, the shaping of the lands, and the rise of Mondstadt. Every song seemed almost more amazing than the last.

It was getting close to evening by the time you were able to free yourself from his spell. Or rather, he stopped casting it. His last few notes rang out and faded into the darkness. You almost didn’t dare to breathe in fear of breaking the serene silence that overtook the scene. Then his eyes opened.

This was your first real chance to get a good look at them as he was usually facing just slightly away from you. Everyone else had gone home, so as he scanned the area, his eyes fell on you. And suddenly all you could see was his eyes. They’re beautiful, you thought to yourself, a hint of blush warming your cheeks.

His braids swayed a bit as he tilted his head curiously and a smile flashed across his lips. “It’s not often I see a Disciple here, tell me, did you like what there was to hear?”

“I did,” you confirmed. “I’m very impressed! It was almost like I was listening to Barbatos himself!”

He looked stunned for a moment, then an odd look crossed his face before he quickly covered it up with a broad smile. “Thanks! I appreciate the sentiment! That’s really quite the compliment.”

You were able to spend the next little while chatting before you had to go, but similar scenes occurred fairly often as time went on. About the tenth time or so he decided that you were friends, which you had no objection to. Though there was always a small twinge in your heart whenever he called you that for some reason.

Along with becoming friends, you started to notice some things. His songs are… very detailed in a way that makes them line up with records that rarely see the light of day. While you do your best to share Barbatos’ gospel of freedom with everyone, some records are just too fragile to be available to the general public. So the Disciples, like you, memorize them and tell them to the worshipers who come to the Cathedral.

However, either on purpose or by accident, most of the time Disciples will mix up little details or paraphrase things or skip over sections in a way that can confuse the story some. But Venti’s songs match every detail shown in the records, and more. You had checked multiple times and it always came out the same way. He was one hundred percent correct, in every song he played.

Then there was his hair. You’d never seen anyone with their hair being tinted at the ends like that. And you couldn’t find the hair dye he used either. And oh boy had you looked. You wanted teal in your hair too dang it! And when you finally asked him where he got it he laughed and said it was natural. How is that fair?

And then there are the times where he just didn’t act quite human. Like forgetting to eat all day without realizing it. Or referring to other people as “humans”, as if he, himself, isn’t human. Or how he only ever wears one outfit. Or the way anemo energy seems to flow through him instead of around him. You wouldn’t even have noticed that last one if it wasn’t for the fact that you are hypersensitive to it due to how you use your anemo vision. From all of that, and more, you can just tell that something isn’t quite what it seems about him.

So when you’re cleaning the cathedral in the back and hear him out himself as Barbatos to Sister Gotelinde something just clicked. Oh, of course he was Barbatos. What else could he possibly be? Too much added up for it to not make sense! Unfortunately by the time you were done reeling from shock Sister Gotelinde had sent him right out the door.

You had caught enough of the conversation, though, that you knew that Venti- no, Barbatos had need of his lyre. So you came up with a plan. This was going to get you in so, so much trouble. But this is what needed to be done. You need to get him his lyre.

It was surprisingly easy to swipe the lyre from its pedestal and avoid the other inhabitants of the Cathedral by taking back passageways. You had almost made it out, you were so close when you suddenly ran into someone.

Holding a hand to the point of impact starting to swell on your forehead, you squint over towards the other group. When your brain registers that you just ran into Venti you gasp and scramble to your feet, still holding the holy lyre to your chest. “Oh my goodness, I’m so, so sorry Venti,” you apologize. “Or, uh, would you prefer I call you Barbatos?”

Your friend blinks once, then twice, dumbstruck by the situation. “Venti is fine,” he scrambles to assure you after a few moments. “How did you know?”

“You weren’t exactly the quietest when speaking with Sister Gotelinde, Venti. And I was cleaning just out of sight. It made a lot more sense than some other explanations for your weird behavior that I’d come up with.” You admit sheepishly. “And I believe this is yours.”

His face lit up as you held the holy lyre out towards him. “The Lyre de Himmel! Thank you so much! See that, Traveler? We didn’t even have to steal it! I promise to do my best to take care of it.” You quirk an eyebrow as the Traveler finishes shaking off the effects of running into you.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, and you better.” you tell him pointedly, causing him to giggle nervously. “Besides, the two of you need to go! I… didn’t exactly tell anyone about this. Good luck with Dvalin, Venti, Traveler. May Barbatos be with you!” You called out the last part out of habit.

Moments later you felt a hand clap onto your shoulder. “Dear,” Sister Gotelinde drawled slightly. “Please tell me you didn’t hand our sacred treasure over to that alcoholic bard.” You’re silent for a moment before years of being at the Cathedral won over your common sense. “You know I can’t do that, Sister.”

She sighs from her position behind you and her hand tightens on your shoulder. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how much trouble you’re in, especially if it doesn’t come back in one piece.” You gulp.

“Yes, Sister Gotelinde.” You murmur.

“Good, now get back to cleaning.” She instructs you curtly.

Nodding, you turn and walk past her towards where you were cleaning. She continued on, likely going to report the situation to Sister Barbara. You really hope that Venti keeps his promise.

While you try your best to put the situation out of your mind, your thoughts keep drifting back to it the whole next day. The nightmare you’d had that night hadn’t helped either. It had been a morbid scene, a broken lyre on the ground with an equally broken Venti as a triumphant Stormterror screeched over their still forms. You’d woken up sweaty.

Logically you knew that Barbatos- no, Venti wouldn’t fall to Stormterror. But the scene still wouldn’t go away. And neither did the awkward feeling that accompanied your usual duties as a disciple. Some of your regular duties were suddenly almost… laughable? You now knew that Barbatos didn’t care about a good chunk of what you did in the Cathedral that some considered absolutely essential.

Your attitude didn’t help your position though, not with everyone now knowing what you did and watching you closely. The day is long and you feel trapped every second of it. Then Venti returns victorious with a broken lyre and everything crumbles around you. You’re kicked out, banned for life, right after him, with a suitcase of your stuff chucked out after you. Even though he ‘fixed it’.

Part of you wants to just lay there and regret your life choices; but you can’t help but smile when Venti reaches a hand out to lift you up, laughing about the irony of the situation. A small smile manages to reach your face as Jean starts chuckling too.

“Don’t worry too much, I know you’ve done a great good for Mondstadt.” She reassures you. “I know you have a vision, an anemo vision at that.” She gives Venti a pointed look. “How would you like to become a knight?”

Your smile grows into something a little more natural. “I’d like that, thank you Jean.”

“It’s no problem, really the least I could do. I’m sorry it had to end like this. Now, come to my office when you have a moment so we can formalize it. But for now I need to go and formally close the Stormterror case.” With a sigh she walked past you towards the knights headquarters and the inevitable paperwork which awaits her.

“I’m sorry that you got kicked out,” Venti apologizes once Jean’s out of sight. “All you did was help and you got in trouble for it.”

“It’s alright, Venti,” you try to claim. “It was kind of awkward knowing that you are Barbatos anyway.”

“Still,” he pressed. “You put everything on the line for me and I really appreciate it. I’m really sorry I didn’t follow through. I’ll have to make it up to you. And I know just where to start.”

His kiss to your cheek was quick but sent a warmth blooming across your face, contrasting with the coolness of his lips.

“Of course,” you mumble, embarrassed. “It was your lyre anyway.”

“It was,” he agreed. “But you believed me. And that really does mean a lot to me. Thank you, really.”

[hes-writer]

Just A Litle Bit of Your Heart (5)

Summary: y/n must make a decision

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 3211 words

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

A/N: apologies for taking over a year to finish this series! thanks for being patient. as usual, let me know what you thought.

The inspiration behind this part is credited to Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. More specifically, Naoko’s first letter. Some lines were used as is and others were paraphrased. The description of when Watanabe and Naoko had sex are also collaborated along this piece.

I’m really nervous about this.

____

Harry’s words echoed in Y/N’s head; she has never felt such conflicting emotions coursing through her body. Her heart twinged with the need to press her body closer to him because she loves him so dearly. A surge of logical capacities told her to extract herself from the situation--the toxic relationship that they built up to, on the other hand. Did she want to stay with him? Or did she want to leave? Harry was giving her the chance to call it quits right at this moment, to run away from him and start a blossoming relationship with someone else, instead of sticking around and be strung along as he picked up various women on the way to nowhere.

Nowhere.

This would lead to nowhere if she continued to act the way she did. It would be quite tragic to let their relationship strain, only to crash and burn because they didn’t know when to stop. Either she had to change to be more understanding and indifferent or he had to abandon his bachelor ways and return home to her. She didn’t know if both of them could cocoon themselves in a box that they’ve left long before.

That version of Y/N was long gone and she did not know what to make of it; if it was Harry to be condemned for taking advantage of the kindness of her heart, or was it her own fear of being left alone that lead her to being alone? 

Y/N blinked sluggishly at him, lashes casting a shadow on her cheeks as she shifted her gaze away from his curious ones. She was hurting but she didn’t want to hurt him. Somewhere inside her heart knew that that love she held for Harry was too much--and too much love can kill you. 

She didn’t know what to expect from it and Y/N thinks she might be experiencing it now. The subtleness of losing herself to the void, pieces of her that can never be brought back, that will never make another appearance because those were only brought up when he was still the Harry she fell in love with and they were still them. Withering away like a dried flower that hit its peak, the grace and standards Y/N held for herself, the things that made her the woman Harry fell for washed away in the midst of the chaos. 

“I-I don’t know,” 

Harry took a breath through his nose, nipping at his bottom lip, not knowing whether to release a breath of relief because she didn’t break it off or tense tenfold because the option of leaving him was still on the table. 

“We can work it out. We can go to couples therapy, we can do something!” He insisted, frantically spewing out words he thought would alleviate his situation. 

She stared at him, scrutinizing his loveable face, wondering if he knew the extent of what he was asking for. Admittedly, Y/N had her faults throughout. However, she wouldn’t say she was the biggest problem of what had occurred. Sure, it was her idea that got them in this mess in the first place, but it’s not like she wanted it to be this way.  

Harry spoke words to her but it never reached her ears. Frankly, it gave her a headache.

“Am I the problem here?” 

He paused his monologue, hand sifting through his curls. His body was burning in agony, wanting this conversation to be over so he could prove to her that his words were merely a representation of his actions. 

“I can change,”

Harry’s confession fluttered Y/N’s heart-- to hear that he was willing to make this work so as far as to quit his usual habits shafted a glimmer of hope in her heart. He could charge forward right now, even as his heart writhed, slowly sinking in a swamp of near loneliness.  Harry made a courageous gesture to hold her dainty hands in his own, looking deep in her eyes to see a reflection of him pleading for another chance. For a moment, his heart faltered, realizing that all this time she longed for him, and only him. 

She shook her head quickly. There were multiple times when she would reach out with her fingertips to try and touch the light slithering towards her; a symbol of wishes, desires, and expectations.

She always came back empty-handed. 

“My hands weren’t the ones that you wanted to hold. You weren’t searching for my warmth late at night when you were cold. You rather be in bed with someone else,” Y/N stated, strongly at first, then quickly wavering as her emotions led her to think to a place she rarely went to voluntarily. 

His mind flashed back to the countless events where he witnessed her sleeping body draped over the couch living room, waiting for him in the late hours of the night in hopes of sharing a civil conversation with him. Harry could recall himself huffing in annoyance, having to grab a blanket from the storage closet to cloak on her. At that point, he didn’t know if it was decency that made him act that way or if there were lurking feelings hidden in his hard exterior. 

“I feel like such a fool. I feel so guilty of being me because you would distance yourself rather than talking to me about it!”

“I never meant to make you feel that way,” His palms grasped the retaining warmth her hands left, having long since slipped from his hold to fist at her thighs in exaggerated murmurs. They sat on the sofa a few feet apart, an invisible string connecting them to each other. 

“Waiting for you to call me because you needed me, because you missed me, because you wanted to hear my voice is one of the most painful things I have ever had to go through. At least let me know if you still wanted me around.”

“But I do want you around!” He retorted, almost offended that she said those words to him. Her head looked down at the carpet beneath her feet, silently mulling over the words she was to say next. “I still love you,”

Their cries turned into whispers as Y/N smiled sadly, peeking at him with silky eyes as tears threatened to escape her waterline. She shuffled closer, seeing his Adam’s apple bob in his throat in a difficult swallow. Her soft hands brushed the stray curls falling near his face, her thumb caressing his quivering cheekbones as Harry tensed and untensed his jaw nervously. Y/N tilted her head to the side, admiring his features with the most longing and loving eyes he had ever seen. His eyes burned through, she could tell that the curiosity was killing him. 

The moment she made direct eye contact with him-- he felt a surge of warmth overtake his body, butterflies flying all over his tummy and his heart thumped a little faster. She felt like home to him. 

“There was a time when I looked into your eyes and felt so happy,” Her breath hit the tip of his nose, the closeness intimidating him but it didn’t seem to affect her any longer. 

His brows furrowed, “What do you feel now?” 

She gave him a gentle smile, coldness slowly crawling up his spine.

“Sadness. Disappointment.”

A lone tear slipped down his cheek, the pad of her thumb flushing it away, making his skin glisten with the salty liquid. His eyes searched for a sense of reassurance aside from the deteriorating words she used to describe what it felt like to be with him. The desperation he held deepened, his eyes fluttering close in a stuttered breath. His eyelashes dampened with more tears, making it wet and uncomfortable.

“I thought we were gonna make it,”

Harry's throat tightened up, his esophagus constricting with a certain tightness that reverberated to his stomach which was swirling in coils of springing uncertainty and doubt. Truth is, the action of sleeping with other women never really satisfied him. There was still a hole in his heart aching to be filled, to feel complete was something never came easy to anyone, really. 

“We can still make it,”

“Can we?” Y/N’s voice wavered as she blinked her eyes closed, a tear gently sloping down the curve of her cheek. Her lip was sore from being bitten by her teeth, a gnawing action that occurred from the inside to the outside. Harry’s chin quivered, a sob preparing to rip through the confines of his mouth. A strained cry, raw from the base of his throat and embedded deep within his chest. 

------

Harry remembers the mornings after he willingly gave his body to someone else aside from Y/N: the sunlight stabbing straight through his closed eyelids, the dream-like haze bottling his thoughts and feelings in an enchantment that chanted ‘everything was going to be fine’, everything was going to be the same when he came home. Y/N would always be there with her arms wide open in a gesture for a much-needed hug. His head would pound as if it belonged to someone else because his thinking was muzzled to bits and pieces, barely knowing who he was anymore. 

There was absolutely nothing to be gained from sleeping with one woman after another. Aside, from quelling the spurt of arousal taking over his body, the longevity of the action did nothing in the long run. It tired Harry out and made him disgusted with himself more times than he can count. Those women questioned his every touch, instructing him to touch them this way, to kiss them softer, to stop thinking and start feeling the caressing touches of skin-on-skin contact. The excitement of a stranger exploring his body while he retaliated the same conduct was once an idea that had Harry ready to bolt out of Y/N’s arms in a second. 

He wished he could turn back time. Y/N never made demands; all she wanted was his attention, his affection, hugs and kisses and her body swarmed with endless grazes, tracing the stretches of skin that gleamed in the early hours of the morning. His fingertips pressured the imperfections of her body, hair tickling the calves of her legs as the sheets whispered a barrier between their bodies. His chest attached to her back, his lips pressing pecks along the valley of her shoulder, the base of her neck, nuzzling his nose at the nape where her scent was the strongest. 

Harry missed when they explored each others’ bodies in the darkness. There was nothing to be said, no words needed to be spoken between the two of them when their mouths attached to each other in a dazed spell, alluring both of them to give everything they had to the person that meant everything to them. Harry was ashamed to admit that at one point, Y/N ceased to be the one that meant everything to him. For a moment, she was a silver trophy, forgotten and left collecting dust on the shelf. The second best. The back-up. 

Her cry was the saddest sound of orgasm that he had ever heard and it slit his heart with thin slices knowing that although he was the reason for the pleasure coursing through her body, the pain was still floating like a soapy bubble encompassing her entire being, leaving her trapped to subdue herself with artificial happiness until Harry returned home to her. And it went on, the desperation fuming the atmosphere, Y/N’s hesitant hands trembling against the expanse of his stomach as if she didn’t know his body anymore. Her lips working against his as if inexperience littered the skin of her mouth because he changed too much and she didn’t know how he moved anymore. He was an unfamiliar person but her body reached out to him continuously. It went on until Y/N couldn't physically bring herself closer to his without recoiling a few steps back to avoid the stench of the sweet perfume wafting from his clothes, without her stomach gurgling with disgust at the thought of where his hands had been; Couldn’t help but wonder where his heart is now. 

And Harry went on with the robotic schedule to routinely fuck her because he had to. Not because he craved the way she tasted or missed the way she folded herself for him, but because that was what couples did, right? They made time for each other, became intimate and made love while reassuring whispers were exchanged between them. That was the case until he stopped listening. Her wails punctured the hollow in his chest and he couldn’t bear it anymore. He stopped trying, he paused his efforts. He was only doing the bare minimum and without that-- they had nothing. 

Harry didn’t want to but it was all he could do. His body was hungering for other people to fill the void, the lost love that vanished in a moment. Still, Harry thought about Y/N. Her silhouette against the blinding rays of sun catapulting past the curtain in the early morning, her naked body outlined by the moon in the darkness. The soft curve of her lashes tickling the patch of hair on his chin when Y/N looked up at him with so much love and adoration. The sound of the rain pattering on the rooftop, racing past the window and forming a puddle at the ground.

His heart melted with the knowledge of receiving a type of love that rarely ever occurred. A love that sheathed itself with blue cotton candy, clouds of sugary sweetness drifting up to his tilted nose. The softness of the treat skimming his skin like light footsteps, doing everything in its power to leave his heart beating calmly. Until water appeared and saturated their love, disappearing into nothing in a blink of an eye. 

___

There was a lot that Y/N didn’t understand, a lot that she didn’t know. There were so many things that drifted in her mind, incoherent thoughts and incomplete ideas scattered along with her brain. It would take time to organize a million things in an orderly manner. And by then, she didn’t know if it would be too late. Harry hurt her but Y/N was not innocent. They hurt each other in order to fix something that wasn’t profoundly broken; just dented and needing a little tender loving care.

She wanted to dismantle his heart. Tear it. Crush it to bits until it sprinkled heartbreak over their shared bed. Until then, Y/N could finally breathe again. But she couldn’t get herself to do it; she loved him too much to hurt Harry intentionally.

What hell am I doing?

Y/N repeated the question over and over until it became a part of her. Previously, she wouldn’t have thought of doubting her actions. The confidence she carried herself with glazed the mountains of doubts blocking her path. Not once did she regret a decision she made because Y/N knew that she would learn from it one way or another. 

The time she spent being with Harry was one of the most joyous moments of her life. Images of grandeur slipping past her lids to remember the laughter echoing between the two of them, the smiles being larger than life like two twin sunflowers dancing against the gentle breeze of the field. 

With Harry, Y/N experienced heartbreaking pain and suffocating sadness. Tall, ocean waves submerging her in the twilight zone leaving her with no choice but to kick her feet up and try to escape but salty liquid drowned her all around. It felt like there was no escape until she accepted the reality and simply just floated. The buoyancy of her body guided her to a ray of golden light and she tried hard to ignore it because the pain and sorrow were something that she had gotten used to. 

Without vulnerability, they had nothing. It was the base for connection. The part where fear and shame dissolved into thin air because acceptance was what everybody craved for.

With Harry, she let herself be seen. She was vulnerable and honest and skinned to the bone with secrets that she shared with him. Her heart was whole with the amount of love she gave and the abundance she received. She loved him until the end even when there were no more signs of reassurance that the feelings were mutual. She believed that she was enough until he decided that she wasn’t anymore and found someone else, taking her heart with him and crushing it in a fist. 

With Harry, she practiced gratitude and leaned into joy, never having a dull moment in fear of good things ending because they do. Everything has an end; even the bad things. 

With Harry, she learned to scream and voice out her thoughts, never leaving a stone unturned so that honesty was always in transparency. 

With Harry, she stopped screaming and started listening. To him and his obvious need for distance. To him and his silent pleads to leave him alone. To him and his evaporating love, reeking into the air with bittersweet goodbyes. 

Furthermore, she started listening to herself.

What did she want? 

What did she deserve?

___

Her query was answered only a week later when she spoke to him again. Harry’s eyes were filled with the same unbearable sadness that she used to feel whenever Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror

“Will I ever see you again?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders in a loose answer, smiling the slightest bit as the air started engulfing her lungs a little easier. “Maybe”

Harry shook his head in denial, curls sticking to his temples and damp cheeks while some strands followed suit with the direction of his head shaking, muttering soft ‘no’s’ in repeated action as if it would help him contain her from slipping past the opened door. But his hands were buttery and his fingertips were burned raw.

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you. I’m just not ready,” Y/N answered in a rehearsed manner, having spent the previous days deciphering what she truly wanted to say. If there was anything that she would take from Harry, it would be the value of honesty. “The moment I do, I’ll reach out to you. Give you an update,”

Harry stood unmoving, feet planted on the entryway. He could do nothing but listen to her silky voice comforting the turmoil boiling in his belly and the missiles launching in his head. “P-please,”

“Maybe we can get to know each other better,”

Was that where their love failed? Was it because they didn’t truly know each other so well that their unknown differences slowly crept up on their seemingly perfect relationship? 

As perfect as it gets, Y/N savoured the times when it was just them against the world; she never would have thought that her closest ally would betray her. She never would have thought that her own self would walk away when she promised him that she would stick it through.

‘Make it through the end’, whenever that is. 

_____

whew.

_____

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[themadauthorshatter]

TAGATHA! REWORK! PART 3!

Let's GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

We're ignoring Sophie for a little while, she's going to be watching the person she's bossed around and put down get the person Sophie wanted the most.

I digress, Tedros is actively trying more and more to not only be nice to Agatha, but also make her laugh and show that more hidden away Agatha that can laugh, smile, and be happy.

He starts by slipping a flower into the little crook of her ear and bidding her good morning, which turns a lot of heads.

Agatha tries to ignore all this, but does start allowing a chuckle and grin whenever he goofs off or decides to show off, one time actually making her roll her eyes and walk away.

Tedros, however, does everything he can to keep her a little giggly and to gain some more friendship points, helping her in Beautification, giving her tips in Surviving Fairytales, and sitting next to her in lunch.

She does her half, too, helping wherever she can in swird combat, giving him tips on magic, and making sure he doesn't find poisonous mushrooms; she grew up near the the woods and under the care of a witch, she'd know which foods and plants are poisonous.

Their conversations always start off awkward, but are very normal and pretty nice compared to what conversations with Sophie were like; it's good to vent, but it's just better when someone's listening.

They do see each other and talk more about their homes and study together at night, which is great for Tedros, who's started slipping up in his scores after what happened with Sophie and the Trial. Agatha's been doing better because she's been working at her own scores ever since Sophie and Tedros started "dating."

These meetings end in Tedros walking Agatha to her dorm, ever the gentleman, before walking back to his own dorm with a smile on his face; it feels good to have a girl be his friend without worrying about a kiss.

One day in a practice duel with Chaddick, the girls watch and wave their handkerchiefs and cry out for a champion.

Chaddick picks Beatrix; she wanted Tedros to be her champion, but she'll take what she can get.

Tedros decides to flare it up by unsheathing and tossing his sword into the air, letting it flip and spin before catching it and pointing to Agatha.

"Lady Agatha of the Woods Beyond, will you have me as your champion?"

It's over the top, stupid, and show-offy, but, given how much closer they've gotten, Agatha snickers and says yes.

Chaddick, however, ain't having it, which leads to the two arguing as they fight; he's mad that Tedros dated Sophie and almost got himself killed because of it, and now is even more mad because, yes Agatha's not that bad, but for all he knows she could just be saying things fed to her by Sophie, given how Agatha helped her cheat.

Tedros tells him not to worry(the non-paraphrased version is, "Don't be such a sniveling prat, I'm fine!") because he knows now that there was no mistake with the Readers being in what they thought were the wrong schools.

Even though it's a close duel, one full of insults snd arguing between the two friends, Tedros ends up losing because of these words from Chaddick:

"If you really love this one, you wouldn't be fighting so hard! Stop acting like your mothe, if you hate her so much!"

It shakes everyone, even Chaddick and Tedros.

I should note here that Chaddick is not being a Chad Dick, he's just trying to look out for his friend after the whole fiasco with Sophie, where he was confused, almost killed, and tricked into loving her because he thought it was true love.

Tedros gets up, because Chaddick had knocked him down, and puts his sword back in its sheath before walking away, silent as Chaddick tries to apologize.

No one really follows him, Beatrix tries, but Reena holds her back, shaking her head.

Agatha follows him after a little bit, ignoring Chaddick so she can chew him out later, and finds Tedros training in the boy's groom room, climbing the hair ropes.

"Are you okay?"

"Define 'okay.'"

(Agatha puts her hands inher pockets and tenses her shoulders.) "People ...say things to get to you, and they don't mean it most of the time."

(Tedros is silent before he slides down and sits on a bench, Agatha sitting next to him.) "The mates have been acting weird since the trial. They think I'm acting like... like..." (Tedros clenches his fists on his knees and looks away from Agatha.) "Sorry. Do you think you can leave me alone for a little bit?"

Agatha does so and runs into Chaddick in the halls near the classrooms.

He asks where his friend is and Agatha crosses her arms as she asks why he was so mad earlier, as Tedros can love whoever he wants and it shouldn't bother anyone.

The two sit down somewhere, back to back because it avoids eye contact and is less confrontational, and the conversation continues without much yelling.

Chaddick is worried about his friend. He's not the sharpest sword in the armory, so it's easy to screw with his head, as proven by Sophie, and Chaddick wants to make sure he isn't being tricked or lied to out of selfishness. It shot be worth mentioning that anything told to him in Camelot was up front and at face value. It's very easy to lie to Tedros before he figures out something's not right.

Agatha brings up how Tedros is like his mother and asks why he'd hate her; Gavaldon is a Reader village and there are no books talking about AFTER Arthur married Guinevere.

Chaddick's still surprised she doesn't know and spills the beans with some sugar coating, because it's a rough story regardless of how you splice it.

He tells her how Gwen left Arthur, who literally drowned with his sorrows(in my eyes, either his liver gave out or he died of alcohol poisoning), and left Tedros all alone. He may talk a big game, but he's just a kid who wants to be loved by someone for real, not just for a crown or throne or just to say, "Hey, look! The King of Camelot is married to ME!"

Agatha is, rightfully, gut punched by this and is silent as Chaddick admits that he might have been a little rough on him for the last week.

She reassures him he has nothing to worry about, because of the past instances where Tedros had unknowingly chosen her.

Chaddick asked why that was the case, but Agatha claims that she has no idea, though the most plausible she can think of is that they may be true loves.

After a promise from Agatha that she'd never do anything to hurt Tedros, Chaddick thanks her for hearing him out and apologizes for the times he and the others called her a witch, saying that she's not that bad for a Reader.

Tedros is the master of eavesdropping, it would seem, and rounds the corner just as Chaddick does.

The two have a small, awkward conversation, but hug it out, nonetheless.

From here, we get the events from the first book, Agatha's realization that she's always been beautiful, Sophie's attacks on the schools, that scene of Sophie calling Agatha an ugly witch when Tedros saves her, and the circus of talents.

I'll try to add a little bit more in a futrure post, but for now, Imma just leave this here for now😉. I hope you guys enjoyed!!!!

[badsext]

I wish you would write a Leon fic.. that's it. That's the message 😅

Scene Partners: Leon X Reader

Thank you for the request @misskittysmagicportal.  I love Leon.  I hope I’m doing him justice.

Summary: After Leon’s ill fated role as Neil Armstrong in the fake moon landing, he decided that fancy acting classes would be just the thing to launch (pun intended) his career as a serious actor.

Warning: Very irresponsible and spontaneous smut (Please use protection IRL) 18+ and suggested assault of a character within a play.  I hid the smut under the ‘read more’. These warnings make it sound heavier than it is...it’s actually super light and fun.

________________________________________________________

Johnny looked at Leon incredulously. “Where are you going at 10:00 AM on a Thursday morning?”

Leon looked his best mate in the eye and lied. “The pub, of course.”

In fact, this was the first day in months he wasn’t drunk or high...Alright, maybe just a toke or two to take the edge off. He even washed his hair and put on a turtleneck because that is what serious actors wore. Leon had lied and stumbled his way into a local university Theatre School, financing his tuition with a fraudulent cheque.

It was only an introductory scene workshop for beginners, but after watching the real Neil Armstrong walk on the Moon, Leon aspired to do great things. He arrived at the theatre more or less on time and with an inflated sense of purpose. It smelled like dust and leather and old wood. Framed photographs of former students lined the hallowed halls. Nervousness began to set in. He felt like an imposter, just like he did when Johnny had asked him to impersonate Stanley Kubrick some months ago. Accept this time, the only thing he had to impersonate was a man with confidence. After a brief internal struggle, Leon decided that he would go to the pub after all. There was always next Thursday.

As he reached for the door, a young woman had just entered, shaking the rain off her umbrella. Seeing how cute she was, Leon immediately changed course.

“Are you here for the workshop?,” she asked politely.

“Yes, I am,” he replied with a bashful smile. “I’m Leon.”

When she took off her coat, he saw how she wore a very similar black turtleneck.

“Y/N. Pleasure to meet you, Leon.” She paused, looking up from her cat eye glasses. “I think we might be late!,” she added urgently.  He followed her onto the workshop, sitting beside her in the back row of chairs. His interest in y/n distracted him from the enormity of the theatre and his growing stage fright.

The professor explained the warm up exercises, but Leon learned nothing. He was watching y/n chew on her fountain pen. They started with a series of vocalizations and deep breathing. Leon watched y/n’s chest and diaphragm expand and contract with each concentrated breath. Once she caught him staring, he would look up to the rafters or down at his shoes, thoughtfully scratching his beard. She smiled at his lack of subtlety.

The professor distributed scenes to the students at random. Leon looked down at his script. His stage fright resurfaced as he read the words at the top of the page. ‘Macbeth: Act 4, Scene 1.’ The ‘Second Witch’ part had been highlighted.

The students were given fifteen minutes to rehearse their scenes wherein Leon mumbled and stumbled through his lines. The actresses playing the other witches were good-natured about it, but everyone knew the scene would be shit.

He broke into a sweat as the actors were called to the stage.  His mind was nothing but static at that point.  He watched the actresses move their lips, hunched in crone-like fashion and wiggling their fingers over an imaginary cauldron.  They chanted in unison:

“Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and cauldron bubble.”

When they stopped, everyone looked at Leon.  This was his line.  The last ‘bubble’ just hung in the air while the silence took over.  He gave it his best effort, though his voice was weak and his hands were shaking.

“Fillet of a fanny snake,

In the cauldron boil and bake;

Eye of newt and toe of frog,

Wool of twat and tongue of hog.”

His hands shook with such force that he dropped the script.

“Oh, bollocks - It’s gone in the soup!”  He improvised rolling up his sleeve and fishing it out of the hot cauldron.

“Leon...Leon!”  It took the professor several tries to rouse him from his panic.  “That’s enough, Leon. We mustn't paraphrase Shakespeare.”  The students giggled.   The professor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.  “Let’s try something else, shall we?”  

He turned and pulled two scripts from his briefcase, handing one to Leon.  “We need something to build your confidence.  You will play Stanley Kawalski.  He’s a proud, domineering brute.” He beat his chest for emphasis.  “And you...y/n, you will play Blanche, the jealous, simmering sexpot,” he said, casually handing her the other script.

“A Streetcar Named Desire?  Wasn’t that a film with Marlon Brando?,” Leon muttered nervously.

The professor put a hand on each of their backs.  “I’ll read the stage directions.  Don’t think, just use your instincts.”

Leon read the lines with as much bravado as he could muster. “I've been on to you from the start! Not once did you pull any wool over this boy's eyes! You come in here and sprinkle the place with powder and spray perfume and cover the light bulb with a paper lantern, and lo and behold the place has turned into Egypt and you are the Queen of the Nile! Sitting on your throne and swilling down my liquor! I say--Ha!--Ha! Do you hear me? Ha--Ha--ha!”

“Okay, now he walks into the bedroom.”

Y/N cried out a warning as Blanche, “Don't come in here!” 

“That was quite good,” Leon whispered, eliciting a small smile.

“Stanley goes into the bathroom and Blanche picks up the phone.”

Blanche: “Operator, operator! Give me long-distance, please.... I want to get in touch with Mr. Shep Huntleigh of Dallas. He's so well-known he doesn't require any address. Just ask anybody who--Wait! I--No, I couldn't find it right now.... Please understand, I--No! No, wait! ... One moment! Someone is--Nothing! Hold on, please!”  

Leon grinned out of character, so impressed by y/n’s acting.

“Blanch is going mad now, pacing back and forth.”

Blanche: “Operator! Operator! Never mind long-distance. Get Western Union. There isn't time to be--Western--Western Union!  Western Union? Yes! I--want to--Take down this message! "In desperate, desperate circumstances! Help me! Caught in a trap. Caught in--" Oh!

Stanley: “You left th' phone off th' hook.”

“Now he blocks her from the door.”

Blanche: “Let me--let me get by you!”

Stanley: “Get by me! Sure. Go ahead”

“But he only gives her an inch.”

Blanche: “You--you stand over there!”

Stanley: “You got plenty of room to walk by me now.”

Blanche: “Not with you there! But I've got to get out somehow!”

Stanley: “You think I'll interfere with you? Ha-ha!”

Blanche: “I warn you, don't, I'm in danger!”

“He takes another step and she smashes the bottle breaking it.”

Stanley: “What did you do that for?”

Blanche: “So I could twist the broken end in your face!”

Stanley: “I bet you would do that!”

Blanch: “I would! I will if you--”

Leon’s reading becomes increasingly stilted and awkward.  “Oh! So you want some rough-house! All right, let's have some rough-house!”

“He springs out at her.  She swipes the bottle at him, but he captures her wrist and overpowers her.”

The professor read the stage directions, but Leon wouldn’t move, delivering the next bit of dialogue with a sigh of regret.  “Tiger--tiger! Drop the bottle top! Drop it! We've had this date with each other from the beginning!”

“Overpower her, Leon.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t like to do that, Professor.”

“It’s acting, Leon...It’s pretend.”

“I don’t even want to pretend.  Stanley is horrid and I hate him.”

The professor rolled his eyes, disregarding Leon’s protest. Then he clapped his hands together addressing the other students.  “Okay, everybody, that’s it for today.  I want you off book by next week.”

The students started getting up from their chairs and shuffling their things.  Y/N approached Leon who was staring down at the stage with his arms folded.  He looked up anxiously as she leaned in to whisper in his ear.  Meet me in the ladies room in five minutes.

Leon was at first confused, then his eyes widened with surprise when he realized what she meant.  She laughed and swaggered away.

Y/N spotted Leon lurking by the door.  “Leon, that was three minutes, at most.  Luckily everybody left after class.  At least I think so,” she added with a cheeky grin.  “Come here.”  She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the cubicle.  Do you want to shag?

Leon nodded his head. “Y-yes.”

“I liked what you did today,” she said, removing her knickers.  “It was very chivalrous of you.”

Y/N tilted her head and kissed him.  He inhaled at the contact of her lips.

She pulled back and looked him in his glistening green eyes.  “Go on then.”

“What ‘d ya mean?

“Fuck me, Leon.”

“Shouldn’t I, you know...foreplay?”

“Leon, I’m already soaked.  Get your cock out and fuck me.”

Leon quickly unbuckled his belt and let his trousers fall down around his ankles.  She turned with her back against the partition wall and one foot on the toilet seat.  He lifted her tartan skirt and drove up inside her, groaning at the tight wet sensation. She inhaled through her teeth, clutching  at his shoulders, then wrapping her arms around his neck.  Leon closed the gap between them, his pelvic bone at the base of his cock creating a throbbing pressure on her clit as he thrust.  The hard bouncing rhythm made her glasses fall askew.  She whimpered and moaned as the orgasm pulsed through her, overwhelming her senses.  

“Was that?...Did you?”

Her eyelids drooped peacefully.  “Um hm.”

He smiled, encouraged and continued thrusting.  His eyes shined like Christmas trees. She pet his curls, watching the pleasure wash over his face.

“I’m gonna…”

“Don’t stop, sweetie.”

He plowed into her, releasing his warm seed with a hearty grunt.

“Bravo, Leon,” she smirked.

@bubblyani @elliethesuperfruitlover @super-unpredictable98 @salvador-daley @helena-way07 @chipster-21 @punknatch @slutforrobbiebro

[louisinmadrid]

WE MADE IT LISTENING PARTY

Keep in mind that I’m paraphrasing and not quoting directly because I obviously couldn’t record anything, and I think most of what I’m saying here has already been talked about during the day, so it’s not like I’m leaking anything 🙃 I just want to remember it with my own words.

There were about 15 of us, everyone was so nice and chill, the updates accounts were there and had gotten a few invites and the others were just random people like me who had gotten a call from Sony around noon today.

We were put in a room with a big spread of food and drinks with cups with our names on it, and a big kakemono of Louis. They told us that we would listen to the song either one by one or with a friend if we wanted and they would record our reactions. They took our phones.

My friend and I went second and together, we signed a form stating that we consented to our image being used but no NDAs. They put a mic on us too. We listened to the song and I tried to contain myself because I didn’t want to burst into tears on camera fjfjjfkd I snapped my neck faster than Niall did when I heard the line about being kids trying to figure things out and also the part when he says that they knew they would make it right from the start and also the whole thing about wondering what “they would say if they could see us now” I was just biting my lips so bad ahhhhhh the chorus is about being underestimated and saying goodbyes, waving away the hard times. My heart was bursting istg. Then the girl from Sony asked us our thoughts about the song and to make it seem like we were talking together with my friend, kinda casual, what we thought it meant, and if we could summarize the song with one word. The only thing that came to my mind was “victory” I’m fjjfjfffjxjd

anyway after that we got back to the room and while others were listening to the song, another girl asked if we could think of questions for Louis, we should write them down on a sheet of paper and they would pass them along for an interview at a later date. LITTLE DID WE KNOW. We listened to all of Louis’s songs and a few 1D ones, everyone singing along. We then listened to We Made It 3 more times all together and by the end, everyone was singing along. It’s so catchy and those hey-hey-hey live are gonna be ICONIC!!! Then one of the girls from Sony kept checking her phone and trying to keep us busy, so there was like a pop quizz about Louis. His full name, his birth name, where’s from, when was he put in 1D, what musical was he in, everyone was answering with one voice it was funny. There was one (1) dad who’d come with his daughter, he was so impressed lmao. They asked if we’d ever been abroad to see him (MADRIIIID) and if we were a fan of the boys too and everyone said yes :’)

then the girl told us to sit facing the TV and that’s when we heard the dot dot dot sound from a skype call and we all froze, and we saw « Louis Tomlinson HQ » calling or something like that on the big TV screen so obviously half of us started crying djjfjdjdkf he was so fucking cute, first thing he did was say fank you for being here and for the support 😭😭 then he launched right into how long it had been since first starting writing the song 2 years and a half ago and how happy he was that it was out, that it felt so right and like he had found his sound then he kinda stopped and looked at us and said something like “ I feel like I’m a teacher having a lecture and you’re all listening to me this is a bit weird so did you like the song??” and everyone was laughing and saying YES OF COURSE!! then the girl from Sony gave us back the sheet of paper on which we’d written the questions so we could ask directly!!

There was a question about why releasing it now if he’d had it for over two years and he said it felt like now was the right time because after releasing Kill My Mind and performing it live, it gave him a confidence boost, comforting him into the idea that he was ready.

There was a question about whether the album would be linear, if there would be a storyline. He said that he didn’t want to sound too self indulgent but that the constant was him. “Me, I’m the storyline”. He said the album was kind of autobiographical so his life was the storyline.

Someone asked what his favorite line that he had ever written was and he got all cute “fucking hell I’ve been asked that question before, I should be able to answer”. He quoted the opening line of Walls, but the call cut and I didn’t catch it, something about love and waking up alone?? Or thinking you’re in love until you wake up alone? I think??? Please dont hate me for this and definitely don’t quote me on this because the sound was so bad I just couldn’t catch it :( the call jumped a few times and he would be like “hello??? you guys still here?? are we good?”

There was another question about where he would see himself in 10 years and he said “ehhhh, you know me, too much of a bad planner to think that far ahead” haha but hopefully still making music

Somebody asked why did he choose We Made It as a single out of all the songs he must have written and he said something like “well first, We Made It, the title in itself is kind of a concept, you know what I mean?” He then talked about wanting to put that one out now because lyrically “you all know the way I write, right, I say what I mean” or something like that, and musically, it just felt like the most honest he could be at the moment.

At some point, a girl was wearing a blue tracksuit and he said “before you ask your question, I love the tracksuit, love” :’) there was a lull in the questions so a girl showed him her smiley tattoo and he was very excited about it! Then before ending the call we took a picture with the TV, that was awkward but 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

We also recorded a few messages on camera at some point, silly things like « hi Louis », « We Made It in France », blowing kisses etc

Then the girl from Sony asked that we don’t talk about what had happened before the next morning so fans all over the world having listening parties later than us wouldn’t be spoiled. We told her a few things had leaked already, like lyrics, and she was disappointed but said she was mainly talking about the call with Louis. A girl asked if we should wait until the song was out to talk about it at all but she said no, just wait until tomorrow morning out of respect for the fans in different time zones - we hadn’t gotten our phones back then so we didn’t know it had already been leaked. She said “just be cool guys, you got the surprise so let other fans have it too”, which is fair, but too late... they are going to make compilation videos from the best reactions from the listening parties all over the world, apparently. Then it was over, we got our phones back and we left 💙

[eurynome827]

When You Met Chris Beck

For @the-ss-horniest-book-club Romcom Drabbles!

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Word Count: 1,670

Warnings: Language, mention of sexytimes and angst following.

A/N: Direct dialogue from the movie When Harry Met Sally will be in italics, but there's a lot paraphrased to match this scenario and if you are as familiar with this movie as I am, you will hear the original in your head as you read. All credit to the genius of the late, great Nora Ephron. If you've never seen this movie ....please do as soon as possible. It is the greatest romcom ever.

*

"Chris Beck. It's nice to meet you," he said smoothly, and you took his outstretched hand, shaking it and introducing yourself.

"So," you shook off the pleasantries, jumping right in. "As you know this lab project will take 12 hours. I've taken the liberty of sketching out where we can each take breaks, and which parts of the project should be completed by a certain time, and," you paused at his slight chuckle, looking up from your notebook. "Something wrong?"

"No, no..." He waved you off, that smirk still on his face. "You're clearly very organized. Don't let me get in your way."

Your eyes narrowed. "I hope you're planning on doing your part of this project."

"Hey," he said quickly, clearly offended. "I'm just as serious as you about being here. I'm just a little more relaxed than you are."

Ignoring the 'uptight' implication in his words, you threw yourself into the project. You gave him one word answers to his questions, and dodged his personal queries as best as you could.

"Are you seeing anyone?" He finally came right out with it and you sighed, not even looking up at him from the microscope.

"Look, Beck, I don't really want to talk about my personal life. We're not friends."

"Ouch. Why don't you want to be friends? We're going to be in this training program together for two more years, you know."

"On different career paths," you clarified. "There's a good chance we don't see each other again after tonight."

"Well, have a nice life then, I guess."

*

Your boyfriend handed you a champagne flute and you sipped it gratefully. The welcome home party for Ares III was not your usual scene, and you were grateful for his support. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and pulled back to see a face you hadn't seen (in person at least) for years.

"I thought that was you!" Beck clapped your boyfriend on his shoulder and they shook hands, catching up for a few minutes. Every once in a while Beck's eyes would wander over to you and a tiny look of confusion crossed his face. Each time you met his eyes directly, just daring him to remember. Finally, he said his farewells, gave you one last lost look, and wandered away into the party.

"Thank goodness he didn't remember me. I had to do a 12 hour lab project with him in training and it was the longest night of my life."

Your boyfriend looked curious. "What happened?"

"He wouldn't stop asking me all these personal questions and finally I told him we weren't going to be friends."

"Twelve hours with someone is a long time. Maybe he was just being polite." Holding his hands up and stepping back in retreat, he grinned at you. "Just playing devil's advocate!"

"Okay, okay. Maybe I was rude, but it meant a lot to me to be accepted to this program and I never want to be narrowed down to 'someone's girlfriend'. No offense," you winked at him.

Beck found you again later, leaning against the bar waiting for a refill, and greeted you by your full name.

"Did you ask someone, or did you finally remember?"

"Who could forget that 12 hour project?"

"You did, an hour ago."

"Are you always this direct?"

"Always." You cleared your throat, and attempted a smile. "So...how was space?"

Beck choked on his drink. "I'm sure your daily briefings told you everything the news didn't. Maybe they missed one thing," he beamed at you. "I'm getting married."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Who is she?"

"You know her, Beth Johanssen."

"Oh." She'd been on the mission, too. "Well, good luck to you both."

"Thanks," he nudged your shoulder with his, "how about you two?" He asked nodding over at your boyfriend.

"Still can't stop yourself from asking personal questions, hmm?"

"Ah, right, I forgot. We're not friends," he picked up his drink and winked at you before walking away.

*

At the soft sound of a throat clearing, you looked up from the journal article you were reading, put down your cup of coffee, and stared for a moment before speaking. "Dr. Beck...hello."

"Hi," he gestures to the empty seat at your table. "May I?"

"Of course," you watched as he sat down. He looked different, was acting different. The light in his eyes was out. "I didn't know you'd transferred here."

"Yeah," he breathed out slowly. "I needed a change."

"How's..."

He shook his head, cutting you off. "We're getting divorced."

You nodded, looking over his changed appearance. His eyes met yours.

"How's..." He started and stopped as you sighed and bit your lip.

"We just broke up."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. I'm sorry, Beck."

It was the quietest and most sincere conversation you two had ever had. He picked up his own cup of coffee and took a sip before asking, "so what happened with you guys?"

A long lunch of sharing sad stories became dinner...became friendship.

Best friends.

You helped him decorate his new apartment. He helped you bring home your Christmas tree. The two of you spent so much time together there almost wasn't time to see other people, but then you both did and told each other your terrible dating stories.

An attempt to set each other up with your other best friends backfired spectacularly as your best friend and his best friend fell for each other instead.

You were stuck with each other.

*

"Hello?"

Your tearful voice filled the phone line. "Can you come over?"

"What's wrong?"

"He's getting married!"

"Who?"

"MY EX."

"I'll be right there."

You opened the door, sniffling into a tissue, eyes red-rimmed and full of unshed tears. He followed you back to your bed, holding you while you cried and explained that even though you had thought he never wanted to get married, he had just never wanted to marry you.

"What's wrong with me?" You wailed.

"Nothing." Beck brushed his fingers through your hair.

"I'm difficult. I'm too structured and hard to deal with."

"But in a good way."

You laughed, despite yourself, and nuzzled closer to him. "Can you hold me for a little, please?"

He did - and when one thing led to another you both should have put a stop to it. You were vulnerable and so was he, in his own way. In the morning you could barely look at each other, and he dressed quickly and left.

Even though you agreed that it had been a mistake, a tiny bubble of resentment began to grow and grow inside you, filling up your veins and stretching from your fingers to your toes. When he finally confronted you and was met with your fury, he replied with indignation.

"You were laying there looking at me - don't go, hold me - what was I supposed to do?"

"Are you saying you took pity on me? Fuck you!"

The sound of your hand slapping his face echoed throughout the room.

*

You hadn't spoken in weeks.

You screened your calls relentlessly.

"The fact that you're not answering leads me to believe you're either (a) not at home, (b) home but don't want to talk to me, or (c) home, desperately want to talk to me, but trapped under something heavy. If it's either (a) or (c), please call me back."

*

One day, there was something about his tone of voice that made you answer the call.

"Hey, hi!" He sounded like an excited puppy.

You answered him flatly. "What do you want?"

"Um...are you going to the NASA mixer next week? Because I am, and if you are...we always said we could go together to those things so we wouldn't be alone..."

"I can't do this anymore, Beck," you cut him off. "I am not your consolation prize."

You hung up the phone without another word.

*

Standing in the corner by yourself at the NASA mixer, you finished your second glass of champagne and sighed. One more round through this room and then it's home with a bottle of wine, comfort television and your own self-loathing.

You stopped short in your tracks on your way to the door as Beck appeared, leaning in the doorway out of breath, as if he had run here. He spotted you, and rushed over, and you couldn't make your feet move. You were frozen in place as he approached.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, and the thing is, I love you."

You blinked.

"What?"

"I love you."

"How do you expect me to respond to this?"

"How about, you love me too."

"How about, I'm leaving."

He grabbed your arm and you were too shocked to try and shake him off. "Listen to me! I'm sorry about what happened. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how much I wanted you and then I was scared to lose you, and then I was an asshole and I lost you anyway. I can't be without you anymore, you have to believe me!" Your eyes filled with tears as he spoke, and you watched him - he was full of that light, the light that had been missing, and you knew he was telling you the truth. "I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

You shrugged away from his hold, only to pull him close with both arms and kiss him, somewhat indecently, in front of all your colleagues at the NASA mixer.

*

Beck: The first time we met, we hated each other.

You: No, you didn't hate me, I hated you. The second time we met, you didn't even remember me.

Beck: I did too, I remembered you. The third time we met, we became friends.

You: We were friends for a long time.

Beck: And then we weren't.

You: And then we fell in love.

[mama-ghostie-61542]

A Thousand Lifetimes

Rated M++ for language and themes

If you recognize it--IT AIN'T MINE

Sorry for the OOC-ness

Chapter 7

Kihyun

The next day, after two fittings with costumes, two phone interviews, a shoot for an ad, and a tv spot; I finally got back to the dorms, and back to that story.

Bryn PoV--

As if today wasn't bad enough, I walked into the house to find it completely empty. The kids wandered around and I tried to field a million questions about where they were gonna sleep and what we were gonna eat. That and the meltdowns every five minutes led me to try to call my little brother. I really just needed to talk to another grown-up. As soon as I had supper figured out, I called Joey.

"Hello," said a voice on the other end of the phone.

"Ummm. Hi?"

"Oh. Hello," The voice was familiar, but it wasn't Joey.

"Is Joey close?"

"Sorry. Who?"

"Sorry. Jooheon. Kids call him 'Uncle Joey'. Guess it stuck."

"Hmm. No. You just missed him."

"Dern. Can you pass on a message?"

"Sure."

"Can you tell him to call Bryn when he gets back?"

"Oh! I didn't recognize your voice, Bryn. How are you? It's Kihyun. Joey is in the shower. Can I help you with whatever you need," I asked, biting my lip and praying she would say yes. Just the sound of her voice was both soothing and somehow able to tie me up in knots.

"Actually, I was calling to vent. I've had a particularly terrible day today. Joey is my sobriety sponsor."

"He is? Wow," I said before Honey came charging at me, his hair still wet. "I would still LOVE to talk to YOU," I shouted.

"Gimmie my phone, Kihyun."

I handed him back the phone and heard him say

"What's up, Sis?"

Though I couldn't hear exactly what was said, I could tell by the look on his face, it wasn't good.

"Really?"

Then, Honey sighed. "Lemme see what I can do from here."

"Please, let me help."

If it were possible for him to get any more pissed off, he did. "HE WHAT," he yelled. Then, he pulled the phone from his ear and said, "I need a one way ticket to Peoria International!! I'm gonna kill him. I am gonna fuckin' kill him." Next, he put the phone back to his ear, "Lemme see what I can do here, Sis," he growled as he demanded numbers and wrote them down, and then hung up.

As he started digging on the internet to find the cheapest fare, HyunWoo said, "Hold it, Hot Shot. What happened?"

"That douchbag finally left. He took everything! Even the kids stuff. He left them with NOTHING! That is why Sis was calling. He cleaned out their account and took everything. Damn lucky he couldn't touch the shop accounts or he would have cleaned them out too. Literally everything. She needs a little cash to feed the kids til Friday."

"Thank God it is Wednesday," said CK. from the far side of the room. If anyone had bothered to look, the reflection on his glasses was an Amazon cart with 37 things in it. The only time ANYONE has that many things in an Amazon cart is when they are buying groceries. However, most of those were chips or snack cakes.

Honey, Min, and HyungWon all sat down to iron out how much and what they were gonna contribute.

Silently, I picked up my bank book and palmed the slip of paper with her info on it. Only HyunWoo saw me slip out the door. He stopped me as I waited for the elevator and handed me a few bills from his own wallet before turning back towards the room.

"What," was all I could get out before he interrupted, cutting me off mid-question.

"We look out for our own," He answered before he opened the door to the dorm.

After heading to the nearest Western Union, I called the number on the slip from Honey. When she picked up, I smiled.

"Hey, Bryn, it's Kihyun. I wired you some money. Should be about $100, if everything gets exchanged right."

"Kihyun, you guys didn't have to do that. My dad was already gonna feed the kids. I just needed to talk to someone. This has got me so shaken up, I want a drink really bad. Guess I wasn't too clear with Joey."

"Really? Then why was he," I stopped as a shadow fell over me. "Well, shit. Guess who is now standing right behind me."

"Tell him to calm down."

"Bryn says to calm down. She told me to sit on you if I have to."

"Kihyun! I did not."

"I paraphrased," I laughed. "Besides, Sweets, if looks could kill, I'd be dead right about now."

"Really," she chuckled.

"Oh yeah. He is probably gonna follow me all the way to the dorm. I guess I am not allowed out on my own," I laughed.

"Why," She asked.

"I tend to do dumb things, according to others. Though they may be a little impulsive, they always work out in the end. So don't look the horse in the mouth."

"I won't."

"Good girl," I laughed, "So why did you call him, anyway?"

"I needed someone I could yell at that would not take it personal."

"I am always here. Though, I may occasionally yell back."

She laughed. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Making me laugh. I needed that. "

"Damn. I was looking forward to the screaming match. C'mon, get it started, Angelface," I said as I stopped at the stoplight and waited for the crosswalk. "Do you want me to start," I asked, then pulled the phone away and yelled.

Bringing the phone back to my face, I asked as the crosswalk lit up and I crossed the street, "How was that," I grinned.

"A 10. A fuckin' 10. Have you thought of being a Rockstar," she laughed.

I could almost hear the smile on her face, which made me laugh. Even if my throat killed me in the morning it was worth it.

"Hey, hang on a second. I want to send you something," I said as I put my phone on speaker and started the camera.

"Oh dear God, what now," she asked.

I took a short video of me sending her a kiss and sent it off. "Nothing bad."

"Ok, if you say so. Just not cool with unsolicited dick pics from strange men."

"I would not send you unsolicited dick pics, nor am I a stranger. Now, if you asked for them...Like a good girl," I started and looked over at Honey, who was looking at me with the 'better never do that' face. "Uh-oh."

"What?"

"I'm getting side eye."

She laughed and said, "I know just the look. It screams, 'You'd better not be sending photos of ANY part of your anatomy to my sister'."

"Yes," I laughed. "So how are you feeling? Better?"

"Much. Thank you."

"No problem. I'm here all week. Try the veal," I laughed. "Still want a drink," I asked.

"No. The laughs did it for me. Thank you."

"You are very welcome, Darling. So did you get the video I sent?"

"I did. That was very sweet. Thanks."

"You are very welcome, Pretty Lady. Well, we are back at the dorms."

"I should probably go then," she sighed.

"Just remember I am also available for Mitzvahs," I chuckled, which made her laugh. "Seriously, Sweetie, anytime you need a sounding board or a laugh fest, a screaming match or some naughty-Ow, Mother fucker!-I got smacked on my arm for that last bit. I am always here,"

"Thanks again. Until next time."

I paused and came VERY close to telling her how I felt but said, instead, "Again, you are welcome."

"Bye, Kihyun."

"Bye, Bryn," I breathed, then hung up.

Honey looked at me as he crossed his arms over his chest, "It took everything you had to not tell her 'I love you' didn't it?"

All I could do was nod and hope that my dreams tonight would be better than they had been.

As we got into the elevator, He said, "It was good hearing that you made her laugh."

"I love the sound of her laughter. Once I got her started, I didn't want her to stop. I think that she is just as funny as she is sweet."

"You do know that she will do one of two things, right?"

"What two things?"

"Either immediately send the money right back, or hang on to it and physically give you back every bit. She hates asking for help...of any kind," he said as he opened the door to our dorm.

"Yeah? Wonder why."

He just laughed, "Her ex-fiancée, ex-husband, and her father."

"What happened," I asked as I made us a pot of coffee.

"They all held every penny over her head. Her dad decided he wanted her out the minute she turned 18 and to do it, he threw her out the boat, so to speak. Said if she floated, she never needed help anyway; and if she sank, well, it was her own fault."

"That's abuse. Financial abuse."

"Yep. He was the kind to tell her everything she had was his, that she owned nothing; not even the clothes on her back. He comes from the 'I Own You' school of parenting. Her ex-fiancée would demand she work, then make her late, so she would lose any job she got. Then, he'd take any money she got paid and use it for crap he wanted rather than the bills she had it ear-marked for."

"Oh, tell me he didn't."

"Oh he did. Spent it on girls at the local under 21."

"Shit. He screwed around on her, didn't he?"

"Yep. Which is why if you ever think about cheating, I will castrate you myself," he growled.

Somehow I knew he would do it, and I would let him. "Don't have to worry about that. Can you tell me about her ex-husband?"

"That asshole was a piece of work. Emotionally, Mentally, and Fiscally abusive. The entire time they were together, he would pinch a penny until it died if it was something she needed, but she was expected to turn over her things and cash to him. She worked second shift in a factory; out of the house from half 1 to almost 1 am. He was in semi driver school at the time, racked up a HUGE amount of debt; I'm talking almost 40K. Constantly accused her of cheating when he had a different lot lizard every night. It's a miracle he never gave her anything."

I was disgusted by this guys behavior. To have a woman like her waiting at home and trying his best to break her.

"And that isn't even the worst of his offenses. He screamed at her one night while he was over the road, on training. She was at work, and he called her on her lunch break. The entire time, he screamed at her for having a cold sore and yelled about her cheating loud enough for her co-workers to hear. Her boss to tell her to turn off her phone; that he was tired of hearing that jerk yell at her. The guy he was learning with, told him that 'If I were her, I would be calling the lawyer first thing in the morning, after that shit.' He 'apologized' pretty quickly after that."

"Icky. I hope she ended it there."

"No. That girl has a ton of stay and No show. He ended up deployed to Egypt and told his brother about the girls there. Never thought his brother would run and tell her. She still didn't leave. You left a blister on her cheek one night and he threw her out in the snow."

"Stay and no show? I'm not sure I understand."

"Horse terms," came a voice from the doorway. I had forgotten Hoseok was staying with us while his apartment was getting the pipes fixed. "When a filly is learning to ride, it's said she is full of Show and no Stay. Meaning she looks good, but is too skittish to stand still. Sis--Well Sis may not look like much, but she has tons of loyalty to those who show her the same. She has the patience to play a 30 year long game, and the courage to weather ANY storm. But she has a problem knowing when to leave, and so she gets hurt."

"Hold up! He threw her out in the snow?!"

As Hoseok filled his own mug, he answered, "Yeah, he threw her out of the apartment in the middle of a snowstorm. Lucky her parents were in town. So if you start this with her, and you ever want out; you are gonna have to straight up tell her to go. She won't understand otherwise. She doesn't play games and has a tough time with subtly. So always be direct and honest with her."

I nodded taking it in. There was something I thought I wanted, so I asked, "How is her aegyo"

"If you are looking for overt aegyo, don't. Hers is subtle but she has got it in spades, and she doesn't even know it. It's in the way she plays, either with her guy or her kids," he said as he leaned against the counter, "It's in the subtle blush when you say or do something for her without her asking. It's in a compliment and the smiling eyes that comes with it. She has never had some of the things other girls take for granted, like a stolen kiss or flowers on her birthday. Other things, like those romantic gestures, she has only had once or twice. If I remember right, the last guy to 'play' was an FWB years and years ago, and that guy only stole one kiss, once," Honey replied.

"Don't expect her to run with girls. Most girls find her too harsh, too rough. She doesn't appreciate girls and their whiney, gossipy ways. She never wears makeup, and I have never once seen her with her nails painted. She is a guys-girl, a tom-boy through and through; wasn't made delicate. She is stronger than most people will ever know. However, her heart is extremely delicate, it's been broken and bruised so bad, even I wonder how she is still alive. So, let me tell you, right now," Hoseok said as he sat down his mug and leaned over the counter in my direction, "She may not be blood, but she is my sister."

"Hmm," I nodded. "You really don't have to worry about that," I replied. "How are you related to her again," I asked.

"Distant cousin. Her auntie married my mothers little brother, for all of five minutes. I am only gonna tell you this once, if you hurt that filly in ANY way; you wont walk again."

"Got it," I replied, cringing.

"You know that she won't ask for what she wants or needs. You are gonna need to be damned good at reading between the lines, cause she is so afraid that if she tells you what she needs, what she wants, you will do the same thing every one else has done," Honey said after a minute.

"Run," I answered nodding.

"Yep. Most men can't handle her intensity so they either run or try to turn her down to levels that they can handle without realizing that her fire isn't meant to be dimmed, but fed. She is gonna need you to be just as emotional as her, to show her that it is ok to feel again. She is very touch oriented, very tactile. So a lot of her feelings are touch related."

"I understand, Joey."

"You had better. The only reason I didn't beat the shit out of the other assholes, is that I wasn't there. If I had been, I would have had no problems with a few months in the county lock-up. And if Clark had tried that shit while I was there..."

"Really?"

"Yeah. See, the shit of it is, she fades into the background. She doesn't want all those things that other girls want. She isn't the kind to run or chase. She doesn't play games. She is also emotional. Ease into it. Don't try to love bomb her, she went through that shit with Clark and won't put up with it from you," Hoseok said, then turned to Joey, "Speaking of, did you hear what Lone Elm called him?"

Joey shook his head.

Hoseok grinned. "Elm called him a fuckin fishstick."

Joey started laughing, "Elm called him 'Fishstick'."

I looked back and forth between the two men who were holding themselves up on the counter while they laughed. "I don't get it. What-What's a fishstick?"

A hand landed on my shoulder from behind. I turned to see Changkhyun standing there, an amused look on his face.

"Fishsticks are only available in the States. They are mashed-up fish paste, about an inch wide by around six inches long, which is then breaded. Then, they are to be baked in an oven. Either they turn out soggy or they are hard as a rock; inedible either way. Which is good, because they are fuckin' gross. Nasty little things."

"Are they like the fish at Mickey's?"

"No," CK stated. "The fish there is actually decent. Fishsticks are generally served in school hot lunches on Fridays due either to religious reasons, or because they are cheap and can be purchased by the gross. At any rate, they are still inedible."

"Icky. How in the hell can people do that to their kids?"

"Not a clue. That was why I always took my lunch on Friday. Every Friday, the hot lunch was always the same thing; rock hard fishsticks, soggy tater tots, dehydrated-rehydrated mixed vegetables, and golden glow salad with mayonnaise on the top. It was the grossest meal I have ever seen in my entire life."

I shuddered to think of those poor kids. Forced to eat that nasty stuff.

After reading that, I was glad her kids never had to eat that. She fixed boxes for them. School lunches in the States sounded gross.

'Some things were ok.'

'I thought you took your lunch, Mami?'

'I did. My dad said cold lunch was cheaper. But, there was one day, once or twice a month, that I would get school lunch. They called it pork pattie day, but it was a breaded pork tenderloin on a bun. It was pretty decent. It was pretty gross the rest of the time, but that day wasn't too bad.'

'Have I watched you fix those before?'

'Not sure.'

'Are those the sandwiches where you beat the pork chops to nothing and then bread and fry them?'

'Yes.'

'Those do look pretty tasty,' I said as I dug around for what to fix the next day, so I could write it on the board. 'Hmm. Help, please. Can't figure out supper.'

'Whatcha got?'

'Hmmm. Some sausages, some tiny shrimp, and a package of chicken,' I said as I dug around in the freezer.

"You can use the shrimp and chicken in Gumbo.'

'It has been quite a while since I've had Gumbo. I've never made it before though.'

'Look it up. There are a million Gumbo recipes out there.'

'I think I will do that. Thanks, Baby. Have I told you, today, how awesome you are??'

'Yes, but I can always stand to hear it again,' she laughed.

A/N)--The above abuses......actually happened. First hand experience.

[disaster-fruit]

Please give us fluffy guayguay hc's.

YES MY FLUFFY BOYS

Btw this is not that fluffy bc well it’s me I’m angsty angst boy but I tried uahduajd

they first started developing feelings (in the current times) in part because being constantly surrounded by their big loud neighbors made both crave for something calm and peaceful and they found that in their small moments together.

Moments like going to lunch together after a Mercosur meeting, helping each other on boring work things, or talk endlessly in a quiet corner of whatever party they might be. They’re really comfortable around each other, both relax a lot and are more themselves than in big groups or with some other people.

Para is also the one person uru can’t say no to. Completely powerless against those big shiny eyes and that little face he does when it wants something. There’s just so much self-control a man can have in him

One hc I really like is that Sebastian, being this more serious man who tends to avoid strong emotions, is completely taken aback by how Dani is much more open about his feelings and emotionally mature, he’s not afraid to voice it and doesn’t try to look cool and detached as too many (including Sebastian) do.

And this attitude makes Sebastian sometimes be hit HARD with FeelingsTM he has a hard time containing and doesn’t know what to do with them. It takes him a while to understand, oh, is this what being in love feels like?

both but specially uru don’t have much relationship experience. They’ve had their affairs and had strong emotional connections before, maybe even a little bit of love, but nothing that he felt he couldn’t stop himself from having if he just put the on the effort.

And when both realize that new layer of love over all those shared moments from before, there’s a bit of that DenialTM. Uru is sure is nothing more than initial infatuation, Para not for a second believes his feelings could be returned, and neither wants to risk what they do have with an affair or worse, with a rejection.

I don’t have a specific hc abt their first kiss but one possibility I like is just they talking one day and Uru gets one of those Strong Feelings after something Para says and in a crazy moment of impulsiveness he kisses him. It’s not like Uruguay to have moments like this, to be impulsive ever, which forces him to realize that he’s way deeper in love than he had imagined. 

Another possibility is Para kissing him first, and then Uru kinda rejects him bc he doesnt know how to deal with Strong Feelings and would hate more than anything in the world to end up hurting Dani later. So like things get really weird for a few days or weeks until baby realizes he’s being an idiot and go kiss his man back like he should have. 

They decide to keep it a secret for a while, mostly because they know Martins reaction will be.... something. Also because both kinda still feel like this is just a fragile little crush from the other and telling it to people might make it too real. So for a long time (maybe years!) they don’t tell a soul.

At first they are very very careful with the secret but after a while they’re just trying to see how many times they can kiss behind martin’s back or have sex in his bedroom, hold hands under the table, sext during dinner, etc, without getting caught.

But is during this time they develop some habits that stay with them forever, like having most of their dates are their own homes and trying to make the best out of it, going to small distant towns on the weekends where they can’t easily be recognized, boat rides to the middle of nowhere that end in a picnic on a hiding spot, etc.

After a while they’re also resisting to tell the world to avoid changing this comfortable dynamic they’ve developed, like it wouldn’t be the same without the secret. Sometimes things are better when you keep them to yourself, no one needs to knows.

But eventually they do tell everyone. Arg reacting to Guayguay is my favorite thing. To paraphrase an anon for a while ago “Martin: just found out Daniel and Sebastian’s lives don’t revolve around me. #disappointed and #upset”. He’s shocked lol he thought he was part of the trio not that he was the third-wheel 😔  and though the three still hang out together after, Martin is constantly DISGUSTEDtm at any form of affection they show ever. The first time Dani calls Sebastian Mi Cielo in public he has a fuking stroke.

Para’s mom was never a fan of anyone dating her boy in the first place, but with all the options he had in the continent, she’s happy he picked Uruguay lol (basically Sebastian is the kid all the parents want their kid to date)

PDA! Thanks to another anon, I’ve adopted the hc that para calls uru mi Cielo and mi Sol. Uru calls Pari mi vida. Constantly. It’s gross.

Also they hold hands so much??? Is that even allowed?? And if before they were kissing and holding hands in secret now they do it in front of everyone. 

Daniel’s social media is full of pictures of their dates together, pictures of the homemade romantic dinners, of the places they visit, and the descriptions are either small romantic texts or just emojis like 🥰🍷👬 💕

 Sebastian’s on the other hand have spontaneous pictures of Dani he took when he wasn’t looking, like him gazing at the sunset or sleeping on the couch looking like an angel. And the descriptions are even more disgusting bc it’s just things like “my love”, “sunshine”. Martin is this close to blocking them

No matter how much time has passed, Sebastian still a little flushed whenever Dani is a little too sweet with him, or tells him he loves him. Like homeboy literally cannot Believe this is happening. 

Usnduajduajduajjdua they gross I’m sorry

[youllgocrystalcrazy]

   November 14th? Gosh what time does to a person sometimes. It hadn’t even fully registered in the genius’ mind that it was already drawing close to the years end. Halloween had come and gone, but he’d hardly batted an eye at it, even with it’s vampiric perks. Plus, it didn’t help that he’d spent the last twenty-some-odd years in a distant crack in time to the past. The sweltering heat. The chasm he was forced to reside in... All alone. With N. Tropy and Uka Uka... Of course his internal clock was off!! It’s only tonight that it fully strikes him what day it is. What month it is... It’s his birthday. Hair sagging at the idea of it, Cortex sighs, resuming his business. Nothing good EVER came from his birthday. Oh, the notion of just having ONE year, just ONE where he could celebrate it while on top!! Or in the lap of luxury! With the world at his disposal or just a simple island vacation, either or would be lovely... But why celebrate the day where everything started to go wrong in his life? He’d been trying to preoccupy himself with organizing and tidying his room; Try to make heads or tails of all the stuff his alternate had amassed during his stay in this city. Sitting bow-legged on the floor while rummaging through various boxes in his closet, expression flat.

   Peeking inside the closet, the most noteworthy thing he can see are those very same items he was met with on his arrival. Teddy Bears. The Ushanka. The scarf. Not to mention some of the other brick-a-brack. The most damning thing though... The photo of the golden knight. It lies face down on his desk, tossed aside haphazardly in a desperate attempt to stay out of sight. Embarrassing. It’s a little too embarrassing to look at; head down and eyes fixated on the box before him, Cortex desperately tries to ignore the photo. All it did was force a heat to rise to his cheeks, recollecting that humiliating and pathetic display. A ‘heartfelt’ reunion? Greetings and being toyed with? Hugs and... Kisses? The latter generates a chill to run throughout his body. Cortex hasn’t the foggiest idea of the last instance anyone has given that level of affection, and he’d rather not be reminded of it. Such a breach in personal space. “Better now, Doctor Grumpy-wears~?” He paraphrases. “I’d rather bide my time waiting to return to the End of the Universe than be met with such treatment again... Really!! DO I LOOK the sort to rub shoulders with someone like... THAT?! A King? ...Knight? King Knight?! Ah, what did I do to get myself into this situation?! That lout!!” He crosses his arms, snorting at his alternate’s endeavors. He wants to curse his own name so terribly, but what good would that do? At least he’s found SOME Things of use his alternate had prior in the box before him.

   Holding up the wires in his gloves hands tenderly, Cortex analyzes what it is. A Surveillance system; One used for the confines of their home. Ah, to spy on everyone. Maybe he’ll set this up when Crash isn’t home. Hair drooping again, the genius scoffs. He’s never going to get used to that is he? Living with Crash Bandicoot. Why? Whatever force placed him here must have thought it a funny little joke to pull. He’s hardly laughing. Setting the cords aside, he continues to root around in the box again. A Pharaoh Costume? Really? He owned something like this?! The Headdress even has an ‘N’ Embroidered onto it!! “...Fine. At least my other self seemed to have impeccable taste in costumes.” Bringing the linen to his face, he gives it a light whiff. “Smells sweet. Halloween costume, no doubt. ...I didn’t go to a party in this, did I?” Setting that aside now, hands return to poke around in the container. This time, an ugly holiday sweater is removed, and honestly what it reads makes Cortex’s face twist in confusion. “‘I survived Empatheorem.’ ...What?” The hell’s ‘Empatheorem’? Well, whatever that meant, he balls up the sweater and tosses over his shoulder with reckless abandon. 

   Another box he begins to hunt through. “OW!!” Having something jab his finger, pinch it, results in him sucking on his finger comically. What the hell? Oh, It’s a tool box. He couldn’t see the wrenches and screwdrivers beneath the scrapped sheets of blueprint paper. Plucking one of the sheets from the pile however, Neo skims over it. Plans for a ‘Memoryraser’, as it’s called. Something to, well, wipe the memories of anyone it’s used on!! Looks to have been scrapped however. Clicking his tongue, he sets the paper back down and sighs. “Nothing of note yet... It seems. That Memoryaser idea sounded quite scintillating however. Perhaps if I revise it?” 

   One last box. Hopes are rather low, for answers, but maybe something? Anything at all? The Tupper clicks, and what he sees inside is- “A laptop. Hm. A little outdated too, if you ask me. Ah, it’s better than nothing... Let’s have ourselves a little looky-loo~” Charge cord plugged into the wall, Cortex sits himself at the desk, opening the device up. 

   ...He sees it out of his peripheral vision. A small groan, flushed cheeks, and eyes darting to the nearest wall, a gloved hand paws at the desk until it makes contact with the photo, quickly stowing it away where he won’t see it again for a bit. Beneath the desk. Of course! Ideal! Deep breaths and eyes focus on the screen again. “Now... If I know Me. And I AM Me, Hmhmh~ The password is...” A twenty-two letter word. Atomic number 119. Of course. It’s no surprise he uses that at his password. A bit of loading and... He’s in! “HAH!! Take that!! ...Me! ...” No one heard that, right? It’d be embarrassing if anyone, especially Crash, heard that. And should he really be trying to rub it in his own face that he had the password to his own laptop? Tossing his hands in the air nonchalantly, fingers hastily type away at the keys. Oh, there’s already quite the plethora of stuff in here to discover!!! Files on the citizens of Spirale! Well... a select few of them, but did their information shine!! Especially the information on Rosa. 

   ...This island wasn’t some sort of strange place overruled by some higher force?! But just a faction of individuals?! Some group calling themselves ‘The Island Stars’?! A new wave of anger washes over him. He was pulled here?! For what reason?! As part of an experiment?! A Game?! What were they doing this for?! To make fools or everyone?! To make a fool of him?! He wants to lash out and curse them, in his usual Cortex Fashion, but there’s still more information to uncover. 

   ...He- ...He had plans to take over this place. Well, it’s not unexpected, but it’s still surprising how much information on this strange city he’d gathered in his short amount of time!! Dating back to mid 2019 even!! What blows him away the most is his plans on The Cortex Vortex Redux. The N.E.O. How he planned to use a workshop called ‘Facet Five’ to his own machinations. Rosa and why she played such a significant part in it all!! Amazing!! Simply amazing!! Of course this was Dr. Neo Cortex’s own thought process being laid bare before him. Of COURSE He thought it was Perfect!! “My, my, and here I was beginning to think something was terribly wrong with my other self!! Still... Who is this ‘Rosa’? The photo of her is so blurred I can hardly make a thing out. I only have description to go on... An Underground shark dragon woman?” Well, one good thing about this city was that he wouldn’t need to make a brand new Evolve-o-ray. All the strange folk here made the need for such a devastating device pointless!! Why not just get right to the brainwashing after all?!

   One thing was clear. That little well deserved vacation could wait. Cortex, now filled with a new desire for revenge, a new ambition, and a new hope to turn everything in his favor, was grinning maliciously from ear to ear. Yes. It might take some time, more studying, and an arduous process, but he’d make this city his... It was like a reverse Rift Generator after all!! Bringing everything to him and isolating them from where they belonged. Underneath his rule... YES!!! IT’S ALL COMING TOGETHER!!! ...Oh. But, Crash. And N. Tropy...

   Quickly peering out his bedroom doorway, he scans the house. No sign of anyone or anything. Still, to be safe, he stows the laptop away in the closet again, sandwiched between some of the boxes of his belongings. The last thing he needs is them snooping and finding out what he’s planning. Crash would no doubt try to stop him before he could even try.... And Tropy might try and steal his plans. No. Even improve them!! Hypocrite that he is, between the pair of them, Cortex is more known for hijacking anyone’s plans... Still, with these worries bouncing around in his skull, that smile remains on his face. The laughter is welling up inside him... But not here. He can’t!! He has to hold back... at least a little bit.

   So he laughs. And laughs, and laughs and laughs. Chuckling devilishly to himself about his new discovery. Soft, low, villainous laughter can be heard from within... Looks like this birthday went well for him for once... 

Happy Birthday, Dr. Cortex. Don’t get too Cocky, though!!

[burning-fcols]

✩ { @sinfulredemptions​​​​ } ✩ - Continued from ★

{ ☆ } Tired and content— a rare combination that only seems to arise when partaking in Stolas’s company —Angel lightly shifts atop of the owl, bare form comforted by the feeling of warm plumage against soft fur, mingling with the smooth sensation of silk enveloping them. Gaze curious, it widens slightly at the admission, brows soon gently furrowing in a contemplative gaze as Stolas continues. Honestly, he had expected for his fears concerns skepticism to be confirmed. Perhaps not in the same crude manner he had chosen, but generally the same idea...

However, what he hadn’t expected was for Stolas, of all people, to seem to have just as much belief in ‘redemption’ as the song-spouting Princess. Granted, not in the same naive way; Stolas’s reasoning filled with a more worldly tone, a deeper understanding of not only the project but Charlie herself. Not that he should be surprised. Stolas is wise like that. Intelligent, in both emotions and the workings of the universe... Eyes close for a moment as he emits a soft sigh at the gentle stroke against his back. Fluttering open, gaze is focused on the owl, inquisitive as he takes in Stolas’s reasoning, tucking away this conversation between him and Charlie away in the back of his mind.

Yet another little tidbit to help shape his opinion on the Princess... Truthfully, she seems to be a rather open book. With emotions so grotesquely displayed on her sleeve that it’s nearly no fun at all to pick her apart. The reaction to being informed that she was only USING the sinners she aimed to ‘free’ just makes this even more apparent. Concern non-apparent, Angel merely gives a small roll of his eyes and a soft breath of a scoff. Typical... As if it hadn’t been obvious enough to everyone else— or at least, to Angel —that she had been aiming to get something out of it too. Not that Angel doesn’t doubt Charlie has some semblance of faith in him as well; she doesn’t have what it takes to be entirely false about her intentions. But no one ever does anything without it being at least hinted with selfish intent. That’s just part of being human... Or in the Princess of Hell’s case, part of existing.

Seems about right that she’d throw a hour-long pity party after realizing that. Still, he has to admit that things HAVE been less stressful at the hotel. Less iron-fisted in terms of trying to turn him ‘good’ overnight, as if it’s simply a switch that could be flipped. Like the only reason he’s not sprouting wings and wearing a halo is because he wasn’t ‘trying hard enough’... Yeah, he supposes that someone could claim that. He’s slipped up here and there. He knows it, they all know it. But fuck, this redemption business is HARD... and he’s been indulging in the opposite of it for so long.

Like Stolas says: it’s a slow, horrible, arduous process...

❝  Well... Alright, sure. I guess if th’ right person was workin’ on it.  ❞  Angel ‘agrees’ after the tender kiss, thoughts momentarily silenced as he melted into the affection. Words still drenched in skepticism, doubts are clear on the spider’s face— despite how much as he tries to casually brush them aside —about whether THAT sinner has actually been chosen.  ❝  Then they might be able ta worm their way ta paradise or whateva’. Y’know, some boy-scout type wit’ a hard-on for cotton candy clouds an’ puppy dog kisses, th’ whole Heaven she-bang.  ❞  A wrist motions in a lazy circle as he paraphrases Charlie’s words, before falling to fiddle with Stolas’s chest feathers instead, gaze now riveted on the plumage,  ❝  But... Some people are jus’ fucked, y’know? Some people don’t- deserve it...  ❞  

Just because he had wanted to prove Vaggie wrong, as well as piss her off, doesn’t mean he’s stupid enough to actually think that— ... Doesn’t stop him from wanting to try though. At least a little bit. Even if most days he doesn’t really know what it’s for.  ❝  What’s gonna happen ta Charlie’s li’l pet project then? When she finally gets that sometimes, ya can’t fix things. Sometimes there’s NO undoin’ what’s been done... An’ I sure as shit don’t wanna be th’ one ta break it to her.  ❞  Fingers carding through Stolas’s feathers, palm rests flat on the owl’s chest as he scoffs and looks off to the side,  ❝  I mean— What’s so great about Heaven, anyway?  ❞  

A hand running through his bangs, gaze remains lowered, roaming around anywhere but Stolas’s face,  ❝  Ya get up there an’ yer surrounded by a bunch of judgemental assholes. Gettin’ off on suckin’ God’s dick an’— I dunno, whateva’ else th’ fuck they do up there all day. You know it’s chock-full of uptight dickheads who wouldn’t know a good time if it bit ‘em on their ass.  ❞  Picking up a fallen feather from Stolas, Angel twirls it between two fingers,  ❝  An’ yeah, this place is literally Hell... but it ain’t ALL bad. It’s got—  ❞  

Gaze flits over to Stolas, before retreating to the feather, Angel shrugging as he softly finishes,  ❝  —some good things too.  ❞  He can think of at least one ‘good thing’ that Heaven could never hope to top. Feather is lightly tossed away, gingerly floating down to the blanket as Angel lays his cheek on Stolas’s body, hand now resting on his chest in a fist. A small smile tugging at his lips, he emits a weak chuckle,  ❝  .... But that’s uh- heh, not exactly what th’ poster boy for Charlie’s li’l passion project should be thinkin’, huh?  ❞  { ☆ }     

[fmdtaeyongarchive]

ash kwon, but it’s musical theatre songs, pt.2 : love | a playlist [spotify]

alternate title: ash kwon, but it’s musical theatre songs, but this time it’s a thinly-veiled commentary on how his unrealistic and often unhealthy perspective on love is best mirrored through romanticized, dramatized media such as musicals.

i. “gimme gimme” from thoroughly modern millie.

I need it! Gimme, gimme that thing called love. I want it! Here I am, St. Valentine. My bags are packed, I'm first in line. Aphrodite, don't forget me! Romeo and Juliet me! Fly, dove! Sing, sparrow! Gimme fat boy's famous arrow! Gimme, gimme that thing called love!

ash is obsessed with romantic love wbk. this is more meant to reflect the overzealous attitude and unrealistic optimism ash had about love when he was younger. it was, and still is at times, the one thing he believes he can’t live without.

ii. “something to believe in” from newsies.

An angel come to save me Who didn't even know she gave me Something to believe in, For even a day. One day may be forever, But that's okay. That's okay. And if I'm gone tomorrow What was ours still will be. I have something to believe in Now that I know you believed in me.

i’m taking this pretty out of context here because it’s supposed to be sweet 🙄 and romantic 🤢 or whatever in context, but i’m using it more to further symbolize what i said at the end of my explanation for the last song. ash has built himself a headspace over the years where he believes romantic love is the only thing that gives him any real purpose on earth. it’s part of why he often takes break-ups so hard, and why they’re so hard on his mental health, and yet he seemingly rebounds from relationships onto someone else so unusually fast — because he needs something and someone to believe in so that he can feel believed in in return.

iii. “dust and ashes” from natasha, pierre, and the great comet of 1812.

They say we are asleep Until we fall in love. We are children of dust and ashes, But when we fall in love, we wake up, And we are a God And angels weep, But if I die here tonight, I die in my sleep. All of my life I spent searching the words Of poets and saints and prophets and kings, And now at the end all I know that I’ve learned Is that all that I know is I don’t know a thing .

basically me taking another song that’s supposed to be a more positive outlook on love and using it to represent ash’s unhealthy dependency on it. the first six lines here are a paraphrased quote from war and peace, but they also sound like something ash would write. another take on why he rebounds so quickly: because he feels almost numb, asleep, or dead, without romantic love and the validation and purpose he gets from it in his life.

iv. “someday” from the hunchback of notre dame.

Someday When we are wiser, When the world's older, When we have learned, I pray Someday we may yet live To live and let live. Someday Life will be fairer, Need will be rarer, Need will be rarer, Greed will not pay.

this song isn’t explicitly romantic other than being sung by romantic interests, but with that context, i do believe it shows the optimism ash can’t let go of about love. love is the most beautiful thing on earth in ash’s eyes, but he’s well-aware that, historically and to this day, it’s not something everyone’s privileged to be able to experience without fear. he believes that as long as humanity holds onto love, in a more general sense this time, there’s hope for mankind to improve.

v. “perfect for you” from next to normal.

[HENRY] Our planet is poison, The oceans, the air, Around and beneath and above you. [NATALIE] Um, Henry, that's true And I totally care... [HENRY] I'm trying to tell you I love you. [NATALIE] What? [HENRY] The world is at war, Filled with death and disease. We dance on the edge of destruction. The globe's getting warmer by deadly degrees. [NATALIE] And this is one fucked up seduction. [HENRY] This planet is pretty much broken beyond all repair, But one thing is working if you're standing there. Perfect for you. I could be perfect for you. I might be lazy, a loner, A bit of a stoner, it's true, But I might be perfect... I'll make myself perfect, Perfect for you.

ash vc: global warming is going to kill us, we might as well fuck

i mean, yeah, but not really. this is here because ash really does love to try to find his life purpose in trying to be “perfect” for others. 🥴

also ash is lowkey henry and natalie’s lovechild, let’s discuss

vi. “if it’s true” from hadestown (2017 ver) - not on spotify playlist, link here.

If it’s true what they say, If my love is gone for good, They can take this heart away. They can take this flesh and blood. Take my mouth that kissed her mouth. Take my tongue that sung her praise. Take my arms that used to reach out In the dark to where she lay. If it’s true what they say, I’ll be on my way. If it’s true what they say, If there’s nothing to be done, If there’s no part to be played, If there’s no song to be sung, Take this voice, take these hands; I can’t use them anyway. Take this music and the memory Of the muse from which it came.

yeah... ash is dramatic as hell.

vii. “bad idea” from waitress.

It's a bad idea, me and you. Let's just keep kissing 'til we come to. Heart, stop racing. Let's face it, making mistakes like this will make worse what was already pretty bad. Mind, stop running. It's time we just let this thing go. It was a pretty good bad idea, wasn't it though? It's a bad idea, me and you. It's a bad idea, me and you. Hold me close while I think this through. Yeah, it's a very poor idea, me and you. [...] I know it's right for me. It's the only thing I've ever done. What if I never see myself ever be anything more Than what I've already become?

yeah... ash is dumb as hell.

[nidhoggssoultrap]

Headcanons/Vingettes/snippets part 2

Oh lordy...this is it. Love Nikki has the longest list of headcanons EVER...or well, that I’ve written. Jesus...never thought a dress-up game would inspire this much...

I peg Nidhogg as four years older than Louie. So, in 680, Nidhogg is 31 while Louie is 27. Nidhogg's actual age is never stated, but I sensed that he may be older. He was orphaned at the age of 8 and he spend two years alone in North Kingdom having to fend for himself. He was found at the age of 10 by Louie's father. He loved the fact that six year old Louie preferred to keep to himself. Nidhogg considered himself "the only friend you need." Or "I'm the only friend you'll ever want." As time goes on, Nidhogg planned to become the only lover Louie would ever need/want and well...didn't happen.

2. Louie is the only person Nidhogg ever obsessed over on the level that he has. As stated in part 1, this is the sole reason why Louie is still alive.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            3. While I don't take too much stock in the Zodiac, I do feel that Nidhogg fits many of the scorpio traits to a tee. Same with the King of Swords. Fun Fact(or from what I've read): The Scorpio is actually compatible with the Capricorn if they're the same sex. Heh. Then again, the Scorpio is also compatible with the Pisces and Virgo. Yvette is the former and I am the latter. Ahaha. Still will not be shipping Yvette with him and I'm not sure if I would get along with him well if he existed in real life.

4. Nikki/Kimi? I am ALL ABOARD! Am for this a lot!

5. Orlando reminds me a lot of Camus from Suikoden II. They seem quite similar. However, Orlando is also a lot like Harry Hartwin "Manners Maketh the Man" of Kingsman. I guess that's why Orlando was my first husbando. While I can understand Orlando/Flynn, I'm not sure if I'm on board this ship. I don't mind it though.

6. Between Nidhogg and Louie, it's obvious(at least to me) who the leader would be if you had to choose. However, when on a motorcycle or aircraft, Louie is the one "in charge".

7. Nidhogg loves sandalwood cologne. His favorite combination is bergamot and sandalwood and his scent is frequently powerful. "Like a knock out punch." Louie wears a rose musk, which surprises a lot of people.

8. Louie spent a lot of time blinded by his hate and he isn't the only one. Because of this, Louie, Nikki and others see him in a very distorted light and doubt his intentions.

9. "At this moment, Yvette never hated anyone as much as she hated Heinrich Nidhogg now. His hair with the white streaks, his golden eyes that darted constantly as he calculated where to turn, when and where to switch lanes, when to look at his cell phone that sat on the dashboard and when they glanced at her before flicking back to the road. She hated the rattling sound his shoulder chain and medals made every time he moved. They sounded like ghosts and she never liked ghosts. She hated his voice, that tenor voice made of elegant steel with the whisper that can shred or soothe even the most stalwart of souls. She even hated his breathing that sometimes staggered with occasional sharp intakes. Even his breathing stood out! She hated his smell, that bergamot and sandalwood that he frequently wore the way someone had a signature. She hated it.

She hated his black fur cape that doubled as a coat, his elaborate, sleek, black, silver, and white uniform that others no doubt loved. She hated his striking face, his full lips that sometimes pursed when he calculated his next millisecond move behind the wheel of the powerful black sports car that she also grew to hate. She hated his sword, the dreaded Dark Verdict that made rattling sounds of its own on his left hip. She hated the pistol that sat on his right hip, but she did not dare make a move.  She hated his onyx kerchief with his matching earrings. She hated his black gloved hands that held the steering wheel, handbrake, and gear stick firmly under his control. And above all, she hated, hated, hated his black leather boots. Those heavy jack boots with silver boot jewelry right on the top and on his ankles. She hated how they stepped, slammed, hovered, and kicked against all three pedals with insane precision and always the right amount of force. She didn't doubt that someone would love to watch him drive, would love to listen to him, would dream of him, and who knew what else over his plainly obvious skill behind the wheel combined with his looks and what he wore. She, however, hated it and instead thought of Louie, Nikki, Kimi, Bobo and Momo who she considered her "White Knights." She remembered the phrase "sometimes you have to be your own White Knight." But, she didn't know when. She only knew now and now those amber gold eyes flickered over to her and she looked away. She could see his reflection on the passenger window and she looked down. When all was said and done, she never wanted to see him again.

She wanted Louie. She wanted his scent, his skills, the sounds of his white car, his voice, his white hair. She wanted her desires to matter even though they didn't matter to Nidhogg. But when? She wondered. When could she be her own White Knight?

10. While Yvette was imprisoned in North Kingdom, she watched a show about bunnies and how they can be "bad ass." She learned some very important facts about rabbits. She also saw someone come up on the TV and say "Sometimes you have to be your own White Knight." (This was from the show Burn Notice and I thought of this before the actual Yvette glow up and it's one of the other reasons why I LOVED the coincidence). She also saw the movie (or equivalent of "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles") and identified a great deal with Dale Griffith and what he said to Neal Page in the "I like me" scene. She even tells Nidhogg those words (well, paraphrased) soon after he kidnapped her for the second time.

11. When Nidhogg found out about Louie and Lunar, he was not happy. He had "that look" for about a second, and then acted happy. This is not why he killed Lunar though. Yvette has also been a target of “that look.”

12. Whatever awful things Nidhogg did, he took no pleasure in any of it. To him, it was all about doing "what must be done".  In this sense, he is very much like Griffith of Berserk. The look in his eyes isn't from being hollow, but rather grim determination, sorrow, and focus on the task at hand. He believes 100% that he is doing what is right and he believes that history will look upon him favorably and that “you’ll thank me in the end.”

13. After Yvette is rescued, a lot of time is spent between Nikki and her friends. Of course, Nidhogg is discussed a great deal. Louie admits that Nidhogg was actually his "first kiss" as "practice" for Lunar. Louie DID agree to it, but stopped when Nidhogg attempted to go a bit further. Louie regrets the act to this day. Soon after that kiss, Louie leaves to eventually become a Knight while Nidhogg moves to Lilith to eventually become Prime Minister.

14. "When Kiki went out to get some tea, Yvette stayed behind in her office to clean her desk. She had never been happier at her new job and she couldn't have been more grateful for the pardon she received from Prince Royce. He understood. He understood everything and she in turn understood why he had to be careful about his thoughts on former Prime Minister Nidhogg. Colonel Nidhogg...that's what he was all along. She should have known, but then again, who really did? Image is everything right?

The doors behind her burst open. /Kiki?/ The sounds of boots said no, the scent.../NO! How/? Bergamot and Sandalwood. She turned, and Colonel Nidhogg walked in briskly and with so much authority that he could declare himself a god and everyone would agree. He was in full uniform, just like he was when she last saw him. His cape flowed behind him and then stopped when he did. He stared down at her, his arms folded across his chest. He the wolf and she the bunny, at least that's how she felt.

"What could you possibly want now?" Yvette demanded as best she could.

"You're coming with me," He simply stated, his voice like steel.

"I don't want to."

Nidhogg's eyes matched his voice. "I spent my entire life dealing with things I did not want. They happened anyway, I dealt with them anyway, I did them anyway. What you want is irrelevant."

Yvette shook her head, "No...no...please...I have nothing you could possibly want." Tears fell down her face. She couldn't help it.

A shrug of his black fur cape revealed his weapons, REAL weapons, not fashion accessories used in styling battles. "I have a sword and a sidearm and I'm afraid not to use either." He took a step forward. "Three things are going to happen: You will come with me, you will cooperate, and above all," his voiced hardened, "you WILL stop crying." "

15. /Everytime I think of Louie, my discipline falters/.

He slowly paced at his desk, listening to the sound of his boots echo against the tiled floor. Nidhogg had just finished entertaining his "guests" and poor Yvette had no idea as she was fast asleep on the nearby couch. Gloved chin in hand, he watched her, seriously doubting that she knew anything at all. He made sure to tire her out so much that she couldn't even go home. He wanted her with him, asleep or not.

"Louie..." Nidhogg whispered when he finally stood in front of the window that overlooked Cicia City Square. When a "guest" mentioned Louie, his heart fluttered and the only the widening of his amber eyes indicated any emotion.

The "guest" noticed. "You should have let me kill him. He will be a threat later."

"You will leave now," was Nidhogg's whispered reply and "Shade", being a reasonably intelligent man, did as he was told.

He remembered the battle three years ago. Dr. Grey Raven had been captured by the Nameless knights. Nidhogg led the rescue. Louie was there, dressed in white and black. Never a shadow, all light and one who carried a spear. Not that he was the only one. The leader, Lionel, also carried a spear and he used it to stab Grey Raven, only to get shot by Shade.  Immediately, Nidhogg called off the attack and retreated with the doctor. He ignored Shade's could haves and would haves. Nidhogg didn't and he knew that he never would.

/Louie, you fool. Why do you insist to holding on to your lofty ideals? You are flying far too high and you, of all people, should know that such a thing is dangerous. I am not opposed to idealism, but it needs to be tempered with pragmatism. You look at what is real and go from there. This is how lasting change happens. But, you never listened.../. Memories of Louie flooded him, of their childhood together, how they fought together, how they lived together, and how Nidhogg's chest ached when he wanted something more than just brothers.

"Stop!" His whisper cut through the air as he planted a hand against the window. "Stop...you are stronger than this." Yet his heart fluttered against his chest. "Victory not vengeance...I will win, but I will not kill you. I..." His hand became a fist. "I once said that we were fated to be enemies because of you, because of your own beliefs, because you would not hear me...but that didn't mean I didn't love you. It didn't mean I wanted you to leave.  I shouldn't even call it fate. It's you...all you...life bows to my control and yet you-" and then he saw Yvette in the reflection.

She was awake.

Nidhogg turned and she quickly put her head back down, but too late. He hoped she didn't notice. /How much have you seen? What have you heard?/

16. Yvette is a pescatarian. She generally does not like the texture of meat, except for seafood. She likes sushi and fish/chips.

17. TBH, one of the reasons why I view Nidhogg as vulgar in his “true form” is because, well, I grew up with military(Air Force) and swearing is as common as breathing for a lot of those people(I’m being very general, but I know that my father and, to a lesser extent, my stepfather had some mouths on them when provoked). Also, I find myself enjoying the sharp contrast between the largely “clean” Prime Minister and the “filthy” Colonel. Poor Yvette was shocked at how foul-mouthed Nidhogg actually was. Louie is generally not so “potty mouthed.” When Nikki heard Nidhogg swear, she said that she would like to wash his mouth out with soap. None of the other male characters swear the way he does.

18. I predict that the “Final Battle” will be with Nidhogg and it will have seven themes representing each nation. That being said, I think that Nidhogg has some critical fashion weaknesses in that he isn’t all that flexible. Put it this way, a “Beach Theme” would annihilate him. Louie, otoh, would have no problem.

19. Nidhogg does not dream. He plans. He knows the reality of Louie’s actual feelings towards him, but he thinks “I can change that.”

20. Bai Yongxi and Zhu Yuxian? I like these two together. I’m not sure about a romantic ship, but a friendship is pretty clear and I like it. As Prime Minister, Nidhogg kept his distance because he suspected that Zhu viewed him the same way Royce did. As colonel, he accepted Zhu’s assistance, but nothing beyond that.

[wiggly-blue-shite]

Chapter 14 The Bell Doesn’t Dismiss You (Tedgens)

Hey there's a couple slurs that are gonna be thrown around a little later. Also some really bad parenting soooo Yeah. Heads up.

"I'm definitely Bi." I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how I got here. I don't know how I got this lucky. I don't deserve this. Somethings going to go wrong. Good things aren't usually very permanent in my life.

"What did you lie about?" Henry looks almost scared. I probably shouldn't have phrased it like that. I don't I just thought it was a decent line.

I don't know how to phrase it, without it sounding off.

"You were the one who made me question..." Henry's smiling so much. I forgot what I was going to say. His smile is just so perfect. "You're adorable."

"I could say the same thing about you." Henry giggles. Just when I think he can't get more adorable he does.

"Can I kiss you again?" I don't know how I've resisted him for this long. I went almost an hour without kissing him, that's pretty impressive, I would say.

Henry nods with that dorky smile still plastered on his face. My heart feels like it's exploding, in like a good way.

I lean in and kiss him. He kisses back. His lips are so soft. Wow.

He wraps his arms around my neck pulling me closer to him. I instinctually put my arms around his waist. This is far more comfortable. I think this is the most pleasant kiss I've experienced in months. No one's drunk or crying! It's just pleasant. Everything is good in this moment.

I pull away for a second to catch my breath. Henry starts to move me backwards. My back hits the wall. Henry starts pushing into me more. My heart rate starts slowing down.

Henry pulls away for a second and looks me in the eyes. He starts to laugh. He steps away and leans up against the counter.

Did I do something wrong? Why is he laughing? God damnit.

"This isn't real." Henry starts laughing. He keeps laughing. That's the laugh of someone who is deeply sad. I've heard it before, in a couple of different people.

"I sure hope it is." I find that I am still up against the wall. I adjust my posture so I'm standing less awkwardly.

I never did understand that kind of mentality: The "this isn't real" thought process. I don't really have vivid dreams so I guess I don't have a good reference point. Just you're life is so definite, you are conscious. I don't understand how anyone could every doubt that. What's happening is happening. Denial is bad for everyone.

"Because I've lived my whole life, had my whole life up to this point and time. It would really suck if none of that was real." I know if that makes sense. I might just be spouting nonsense at Henry. Henry doesn't say anything. He looks back at me with almost a surprised expression. "I'm capable of existential thoughts, Henry." Not that I experience them that often.

Henry nods and kind of looks off. I walk over to him. There's a little bit of curly hair in his face, so I move it. Henry looks me in the eyes.

"So this is real. All of today happened." He seems unsure. He's so intelligent, you would think that stuff like this wouldn't be a problem for him.

"I'm pretty sure." I smile. Henry smiles back at me. I peak him on the nose. Henry reverts back to bright red.

We kind of just stand there smiling at each other. I familiarize myself with every detail of his face. He is unnecessarily attractive.

"Oh shit I smeared your lipstick." Henry starts rubbing the outline of my mouth. I could melt. I know he's trying to rub off the makeup, but I don't know. It feels intimate.

"I honestly completely forgot I had this on." I paid the pizza guy like this. And he didn't even bat an eye. He was either pretty progressive or did not give two shits.

Henry smiles a little. He stops rubbing my face. We stand in a comfortable silence, just staring at each other.

"So what do you want to do now?"

A lot of things...

No that would probably hurt him. I don't want to hurt his feelings. We can just have some good wholesome fun.

"Want to watch a movie?" I shrug slightly. Something low energy sounds really nice. It's been a long day and it would be really nice to relax.

Henry's eyes light up.

"West Side Story! I want to watch West Side Story!" Henry looks like he just realized that he yelled that out. "It's on Netflix." I can't help but to laugh. He's such a dork. It's really adorable. "Don't laugh at me." Henry does a little fake offended voice. He pushes me playfully. I want to grab his arm and pull him into another kiss, but I decide against it.

"I'm not!" I would say I was laughing with him but he wasn't laughing so that doesn't really work.

"Yes you are!" He's like a little kid.

"I'm not even laughing." It's good that I'm basically just a little kid too. The perfect balance of subtle immaturity.

"You were!" Henry takes a step towards me like he's trying to be intimidating. He maybe taller than me, but he's too cute to be intimidating, in this moment at least.

"Prove it." I take a step as well so we're head to head, less than a foot apart. We stare at each other, just waiting for someone to make a move. This tension is... interesting.

"Sooo, West Side Story." Henry finally breaks the silence. He smiles.

"Sounds good." If he enjoys it, it's probably a pretty good show. He seems like a pretty cultured guy, for the most part.

"Great!" I love his smile so much. I don't know what it is. It's just so perfect.

During the movie, I was able to pull off the arm around the shoulder thing. That lead to him leaning into me. It was so warm and nice. I don't know.

I don't know how I ever thought I was straight. I guess I didn't really know Henry. Henry might be the only guy I'm attracted to. But there was...

"I feel pretty

Oh, so pretty" Henry hums along.

"You are pretty." I can't stop myself from whispering in his ear. I can feel his face heat up from here.

"I feel pretty, and witty and gay"

"Pretty, witty and gay? That sounds familiar." It's not that I don't like the movie, it's just very serious at times. And yeah blah blah blah Romeo and Juliet, tragedy and whatever. But I'm just saying I would pay to see a version of this that's just the funny happy parts. A two hour long version of America.

"Shhhhh watch the movie." He's enjoying it. I came here for him, it's important that he's enjoying himself.

Henry head rests on my shoulder. I don't want to move, ever. I just want to stay like this, then one day I'll die, and it would have been a good life.

The movie ends. Henry looks up at me with big old puppy eyed waiting for my response.

"It was good." Romeo and Juliet is not my story. They just seem kind of naive. "I like the music."

"The music is the important part, at least in this one." I feel a rant coming on, "Leonard Bernstein is a genius. The music of this show is just so beautiful. The classical and the Latin music just." Henry makes some noises that I assume mean that it's too good for words, but I'm paraphrasing gibberish. "I don't know how to explain it."

"We'll just have to watch it again sometime." I smile down at him. He looks really happy. I'm really happy. This is just good.

I see something light up out of the corner of my eye. Shit my phone.

I've been getting messages and shit this whole time and I haven't been responding.

17 missed calls, 10 voicemails, and 59 text messages. Wow you would think someone died. Wait did someone die.

Mom: Get home now. We need to talk.

Keith: Who do you fucking think you are

He's in my fucking house again. What does that bastard think he's doing. I wish my mom fucking stayed away from him. He doesn't do anything but drink and scream. He doesn't pay rent. I don't think he has a fucking job.

What are they even mad about. What could I have possibly done. He's mad when I'm there, and he's mad when I'm not. He usually doesn't  care when I spend nights at other people's houses.

Keith: You disgust me

Like you're any better.

Mom: What is this

She sent me the picture I had taken with the makeup. Shit. Why did I post that. Fuck. I'm such a fucking idiot.

Keith: I knew you were a fucking faggot

Mom: Get home now

I'm scared to listen to the voicemails. I don't want to go home. Keith's definitely drunk. I want to go help mom but, she'll probably scream. I can't go home right now.

"Hey can I spend the night here?" I shouldn't load this on Henry. But I feel safe here. "I sleep on the couch."

"Yeah is everything alright?" Henry seems so genuinely concerned. He's not bill or Paul, he doesn't know the drill yet. I'm kind of sad he had to learn about this so early on.

"I just can't go home."

[lousimusician]

I Was Awake

Part 2 of If Only You Were Awake

Pairing: Mob!Tom x Reader

Summary: You tell Tom you heard his confession

Warnings: Implied smut (cuz actual smut is hard to write)

A/N: So, I have considered making this a series but I wasn't sure anyone would like it. But if you liked these two fics let me know if you would like to see this turned into an actual series.

----

You sat across from your best friend Belle in the kitchen as you both ate your breakfasts quietly.

You had bags under your eyes completely exhausted. The rest of the night that followed Tom's confession had been restless. You didn't sleep well, your mind running wild. Tom liked you. The scariest mob boss in all of London liked you. Of course you liked him back, it was hard not to. You loved how powerful and intimidating he was, and you also loved how sweet and charming he could be underneath his cold exterior.

You felt so many emotions. You were flustered, excited, turned on...

Hearing him call you princess and pretty girl made your heart race. The nicknames he usually called you were darling and sweetheart, which would already make you blush and stutter. But the new ones made you weak in a way you couldn't explain. And all you could do was imagine him calling you princess as he fucked you.

"Hey (N/N)." You were snapped from your daydream. "You okay? You just got really red." Belle said.

You cleared your throat, "I'm fine, just tired." You sighed.

"Were you up late with Tom again?" She teased.

You rolled your eyes at her, "Shut up, and no that's not what happened."

Belle raised her eyebrow, "Oh so that means something did happen then. Is it about Tom?"

"No?" 

"Oh my god, something happened! Did he hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable cause if he did I'm not afraid to beat his ass." Belle exclaimed.

She had been the only other person you could talk to in Tom's mansion, so you had told her everything that happened between you and Tom. Belle supported it, she saw how you came out of your shell and how Tom seemed to be happier ever since the two of you started talking. But Belle was terrified Tom would screw it up, you were so innocent and kind she was scared that he might end up hurting you.

You rolled your eyes again, "Calm down, that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, "Well uh, I stayed up late last night waiting for Tom but I fell asleep on the couch in the TV room. He came back really late and I guess he heard the TV because he walked in. I woke up by his footsteps and I was about to get up, but then he started saying all these things."

Belle was completely intrigued, "What kind of things?"

"Um, some nice things... and then some dirty things." You said looking down at your tea.

"No way! I need to know everything he said!" She yelled.

Your face turned red, "No! Oh my god, I don't wanna repeat the things he said!"

"You have to now, I need to know."

"...Ugh, fineee." You whined, "He came in and said I was driving him crazy and that he wished I was his so he could love me." You said paraphrasing.

"And then..." Belle urged.

"And then... he said he wished I was his so he could also... fuck me." You stated awkwardly. "And uh... then he said something about the noises I'd make and he bet that he could have me screaming his name in seconds."

"Holy shit, did he say anything else?"

"No, after that he just carried me to bed." You shrugged.

"And he had no clue you were awake?" 

You shrugged again, "I guess not."

"Well you gotta tell him you heard him!"

"W-what!? No! I can't do that." You refused. 

"C'monnn." She whined. "I'm tired of you guys just hanging out and flirting with each other. Make a move, you know he likes you."

"Yes, but c'mon Belle he's the leader of a freakin mob." This had been something you've been worried about. You knew what he did, he'd come home with bruised knuckles and blood on his shirt. And it scared you. Personally Tom never scared you but knowing some of the things that happened behind closed doors at his job, freaked you out.

"(N/N), I grew up around all this mob stuff, so I know first hand how hard it can be. But I think you can handle it, you've got Tom and you've got me. So I think you should go for it."

"...I-I'll think about it."

~

The rest of the day progressed as it normally did. You hung out with Belle, screwing around in the mansion. It also proved to be hard getting Tom off your mind, but that also may have been because you weren't trying. You wanted him and the more you thought about it the less his job seemed to matter. And as by the end of the day, you came to the conclusion that you wanted to talk about what happened. Belle had been very excited about the prospect.

It was hard to predict when Tom would return, but he always came back late. You had accidentally fallen asleep again, it seemed these days he would come back later and later. It had been 2 in the morning when you woke up. 

Your nerves instantly returned when you saw the time. Taking a shaky breath you got off of your bed and went to check if Tom was back. The answer was confirmed once you saw the light peaking out from under his bedroom door. 

'Well here goes nothing'

You knocked on the door, bouncing on the balls of your feet. The door opened, revealing Tom with messy curls, wearing only sweatpants. You bit your lip as you looked at his chest, looking at his muscle. Realizing you had been staring you tore your eyes away and looked up at his face, which held a smug smirk. "Did you need something, darling?" He asked.

"Um, uh y-yeah. I w-wanted to talk to y-you about something." You said, silently cursing yourself for acting so nervous.

"Alright, come in." He held the door wider for you, once you entered, he closed the door. It hadn't been the first time you were in his room, sometimes you'd fall asleep next to him in his bed when you had a nightmare or felt lonely. So, being behind closed doors with him had never put you on edge, but tonight it did. He walked around you and sat on the edge of his bed. "Alright, darling, go ahead."

You ran your fingers through your hair and started pacing back and forth. "Okay, so I-I don't really know how to j-just come out and say this, c-cause I-I'm not very g-good wi-"

"Darling." Tom said cutting you off and you stopped pacing. He stood up and walked towards you. He brought his hand up and held your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. Your breath got caught in your throat. "Relax, just tell me what's on your mind sweetheart."

You took in a shaky breath and nodded your head. "I was... I was awake." 

It took Tom a second to understand what you meant. Once he realized what you were referring to he was taken aback and he let go of your chin to run that hand through his hair, backing up. "You were?" You nodded your head. "So, you heard everything I said?"

You nodded again. "E-every word."

Tom looked at the ground. "Well then... how do you feel?" Tom would never admit it, but he was nervous. He had never been in love and had never felt rejection and if he lost you he would most likely become the bitter man he was before. 

"I- I want to be yours." You said softly. "... so you can show me how I should be loved... a-and how I should be fucked." 

You whispered the last part but Tom heard it clearly. He looked up making eye contact with you. The atmosphere in the room became tense and you both felt the buried feelings you held for each other rising to the surface. And just like that Tom's nerves disappeared and was replaced with power, which he was all too familiar with. 

The only girl he ever fell in love with just told him she wanted him to love her and fuck her. You noticed the change, he stood up a little straighter, his eyes became darker and held something in them that sent your heart racing. 

"Is that right, princess?" He asked rhetorically, his voice lower, as he stalked towards you slowly.

There was the nickname again. Princess. How a simple word could send your heart racing was beyond you. He noticed a shiver run down your spine and how you let out an almost inaudible whimper at the nickname.

He had reached you and placed his hands on your hips pulling you close. Your hands flew to rest on his chest and you looked up at his face that hovered inches from yours. Your breaths mixing together. "Y'like that sweetheart?" He teased. "You like it when I call you princess?"

You nodded your head. "Y-yeah." You said breathless your eyes wide and innocent.

Tom loved your innocence, it was so different from what he saw everyday. He moved his lips by your ear. "I love how fucking innocent you are, pretty girl. It makes me think dirty things about you." He growled lowly and started to leave open mouthed kisses down your neck

"L-like what?" You whimpered.

"Like picturing you... writhing underneath me... as I fuck you into the matress." He said in between kisses and your moans. "Or... having you bent over my desk... while you scream my name... would you like that princess?"

"Mmhmm." You hummed, not trusting your voice.

"Be a good girl for me, use your words." He demanded, your knees going weak at his dominance

You opened your mouth, letting out a loud moan as he bit and kissed a certain spot on your neck, "Ah~ F-fuck yes."

His lips left your neck and hovered over yours and he whispered, "God, I fucking love you." and crashed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and kissing you for the first time. He tasted like cigars and there was a hint of whiskey, but also a sweetness you couldn't quite place. He was intoxicating and you felt completely consumed by him. Your breaths labored as you tried to keep up with his pace. It was passionate and rough, expressing all the feelings he developed these past five months that he got to know you. He held you flush to his body, gripping your hips tightly as you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the brown curls making him groan into the kiss. 

You both pulled away and panted as you stared into each others eyes. "I love you too." You whispered and he smiled.

You bit your lip and took a deep breath, "I w-want you t-to show me how I should be fucked."

His smile turned into a smirk.

"As you wish, princess."

-----

Tags: @delicately-written @musical-whovian @red-roses-are-gonna-shine

[longsightmyth]

Myth Reads the Naming, Chapter 21

PELLINOR

The chapter is called Council of Friends and I for one could use some more friendship is magic stuff in my life, bring it on.

Maerad has a nightmare and a voice speaks in something that is almost the Speech but fucked up. It says, “I am again, but none shall find my dwelling, for I live in every human heart.”

I just wanted friendship, book. You promised me friendship.

She wakes up and reassures herself, and then Hem knocks on her door having also had nightmares. They huddle together and fall back to sleep.

Maerad wakes up to a beautiful morning and Hem, eating bread in a corner. He’s been waiting for her to wake up. She asks how Cadvan is and Hem doesn’t seem to care much (which, fair) but says he’s probably still sleeping and Maerad should hurry up because there is food (I appreciate a lot about this interaction. If I forget to mention it in the comparison please bug me so I can talk about it in a reblog or something). Maerad kicks him out to get dressed and then they walk down to get lunch together.

When they get to the sitting room, Cadvan is awake and chatting with Saliman. Cadvan is the worse for wear still but he’s talking and awake and teasing Maerad a little bit, and Maerad almost cries with how happy she is that he’s alive, black eye and stitched up face cuts and all. He assures her when she asks that he feels great and sends her off to the food.

Appetite sated (Hem comes with her for seconds) the siblings return to Cadvan and Saliman, who are discussing Saliman’s journey. Turns out Saliman was attacked by three hulls and killed them, but not before they killed his horse. He’s pretty sad about it and so am I:  horse death is sad. The horses are just doing their best okay.

Anyway, Nelac comes in while Maerad is looking out at the gardens and says that most of his flowers survived the storm. Maerad immediately likes him, not least because he fixed up Cadvan and reminds her of Cadvan.

Hem continues to eat as the adult bards convene and catch each other up on everything, and when they get to the part about the Kulag Cadvan admits he was in a hurry and not as careful as he should have been with magic or travel. He credits Maerad with getting them all out alive.

“I wondered…,” said Maerad, and then stopped.

“What, O my Deliverer?” said Cadvan.

Maerad blushed again at his teasing. “I wondered if the Landrost had hurt you, and that was why…” she faltered and stopped again.

“The Landrost did indeed hurt me,” said Cadvan. “And I was less in my power than I could be. But that is no excuse for rushed decisions and the mistakes that come with them. I judge myself at fault, and so I am; and it is a severe judgment, Maerad, because things very nearly were otherwise, and the result would have been terrible for many more than us.”

Maerad saw for an instant an implacable harshness in Cadvan’s face, and she shivered; she thought she would not like to be judged by Cadvan, had she done any real wrong.

They continue to catch up, and Nelac remembers hearing about the Treesong somewhere but he’ll have to look for it again, but Saliman Knows What’s Up and sings a verse from the poem at the beginning of chapter 17, which I will transcribe here so nobody has to search the hellscape that is my tumblr tags:

Grows a Lily on the Briar

Grows a Briar on the Wave

Triple-tongued its voice of Fire

Edil-Amarandh with save

True and false the cunning Flame

Burning in the darkest Night

False and true the secret Name

Quickened in the womb of Light

Where the Briar on the Foam?

Doth the Lily stemless stand?

Who will bring the Singing home?

Where the Harp? And whose the Hand?

Nelac is like ‘lol it almost sounds like you’re saying Maerad, who can speak common, Elidhu, and the Speech, is the Foretold’

Cadvan’s ACTUAL (specified as distracted and absent) RESPONSE: “Yes, yes, of course I am.”

Maybe warn a guy before you drop prophetic bombs in his lap, Cadvan.

Nelac thinks about it a minute and sorta soul searches Maerad with eye contact is like ‘okay fine you may have a point’. Also the Treesong is a super ancient song, he remembers.

Nelac ALSO wants to scry Hem. Hem is not having it rn and runs into the garde. Maerad chastises Nelac with all the vehemence of a sibling vs outsiders and heads after her brother. After assuring Hem that SHE believes him, obviously, and that Cadvan does, he agrees to come back inside, where Nelac straight up bribes him with food to be scried later. Hem is like ‘well if there’s FOOD’ and agrees, which, fair.

Further, Nelac says they have to figure out where Hem can go to bard school because Norloch is being Particularly Racist at the moment and Hem, unlike Maerad, looks very Pilanel. Cadvan says irritably that Hem would like other schools better anyway, fuck Norloch (okay not in quite those words but it’s close).

Saliman: hey no worries I’ll take the kid home with me where racist dickheads aren’t in charge. Sound good, Hem?

Hem: Boy does it!

Section paraphrased for clarity.

Also, Nelac adds, y’all haven’t been here in a while so let me tell you what else Enkir has fucked up: no more lady bards can train at Norloch.

The fuck, everyone in the room basically mouths in unison.

Nelac: so the flaw in our system is, if all of our elected officials are old white rich white dudes with The Right Families then it turns out they elect an old rich white dude with The Right Family as leader, which means even the relatively benevolent old rich white dudes get outvoted when it comes to civil rights and not destroying the world because these guys have no concept of doing anything for other people even in the name of self interest.

Not that we know anything about that in the States or anything.

Everybody agrees that a council must be called regarding world saving because they still labor under the delusion that old rich white dudes with The Right Families in power give a shit what happens to the world if it doesn’t affect them in the next five minutes. The poor saps.

Cadvan shows Maerad around Norloch and assures her once again that even if she isn’t the foretold it’s no biggie, he’ll take her to a good bard school.

“Would you stay there?” she asked, knowing the answer already.

He glanced at her quickly, his face unreadable. “For a time, until you were settled in,” he said.

When they get back, Hem wants Maerad there while he’s scried. Nelac says it’s unusual, but so is scrying a child so why not. There isn’t much to see since we aren’t in Hem’s PoV, but Nelac confirms that Hem is Maerad’s brother and everybody rejoices. Maerad offers to get them something to drink, does so, and leaves, feeling like she intruded.

At dinner, which Hem actually skips, they make a game plan for presenting Maerad-as-The-Foretold to the council. Nelac is going to do it alone for political reasons. That’s the end of the chapter.

THRONE OF GLASS

Three chapters of ToG is a fitting punishment for taking so long I guess. 46,47,48.

Dorian is hunting through the woods to ‘let the freezing air rush through him’  and burn off steam regarding Celaena, who apparently watches him like a cat watching a mouse, which is different from every single other woman ever, who otherwise look at him adoringly.

Dorian, I would think Kaltain fits that description. I’m just saying.

Apparently Celaena makes him want to be a better king or whatever by watching him and he’ll never be happy with any other woman now that he’s kissed her and he’s worried about her in the duel. Sure.

CELAENA’S POV.

She’s thinking about the duel, worries that Cain might be better because he has stamina (I mean this is a valid concern: Celaena can’t seem to do any sort of strenuous physical activity without throwing up, her stamina IS crap) and then that she might have to obey the King of Adarlan if she’s his Champion.

I’m not sure what you thought you were signing up for, Celaena?

Then she decides she wants to stay in the castle because Hot Dudes, I guess.

NEXT CHAPTER.

Kaltain drugs Celaena’s goblet(?) in the outside duel.

Swap to Celaena’s PoV, where she complains about the cold and thinks that she doesn’t know why they have to have the duels outside. Me neither, Celaena. Me neither.

She recognizes a couple of council members who hired her in the past, and then Nehemia shows up. For reasons?

Anyway, the king makes a speech, the duels start, Cain wins his. Celaena thinks that the other guys hadn’t even lasted three minutes, which, I mean. People generally greatly overestimate how long fights take, especially fights that aren’t specifically hemmed in for competition. Three minutes is a long time to fight one on one for your life?

Oh wait they aren’t fighting to the death. That would be too men for the demon infested king? I don’t know.

Chaol offers Celaena his sword to fight with, and Nehemia offers her Nehemia’s staff instead.

“If I may,” Nehemia said in Eyllwe, “I’d like to offer this to you instead.” The princess held out her beautifully carved iron-tipped staff. Celaena glanced between Chaol’s sword and her friend’s weapon. The sword, obviously, was the wiser choice—and for Chaol to offer his own weapon made her feel strangely lightheaded—but the staff…

Nehemia leaned in to whisper in Celaena’s ear. “Let it be with an Eyllwe weapon that you take them down.” Her voice hitched. “Let wood from the forests of Eyllwe defeat steel from Adarlan. Let the King’s Champion be someone who understands how the innocents suffer.”

So Celaena chooses the staff, which is actually a GREAT weapon vs a sword assuming you know how to use it for a myriad of reasons? Why would a sword be a wiser choice? Why is that obvious? Especially if it’s ‘iron-tipped’ by which I think she means capped, but whatever. We already knew very little research went into this, I’m lucky Celaena isn’t using that soap and hairpin thing.

She’s going to fight Grave. Don’t worry about it, we’ll get an explanation about him in the second book when he suddenly becomes relevant again.

Chaol squeezed her hand, his skin warm in the frigid air. “Give him hell,” he said. Grave entered the ring and drew his sword.

Pulling her hand from Chaol’s, Celaena straightened her spine as she stepped into the ring. She quickly bowed to the king, then to her opponent.

She met Grave’s stare and smiled as she bent her knees, holding the staff in two hands.

You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, little man.

NEXT CHAPTER.

Grave’s first move is to try to break her staff. I. I’m just. Whatever at this point.

His sword gets stuck in her staff when he hits, and she punches him in the nose. He gets angry and charges, “aiming a direct blow to her heart.” She knocks his legs out from underneath him and puts the staff to his throat, which ends the fight I guess, though he doesn’t yield and isn’t injured aside from a broken nose.

She brought her mouth close to his ear. “My name is Celaena Sardothien,” she whispered. “But it makes no difference if my name’s Celaena or Lillian or Bitch, because I’d still beat you, no matter what you call me.” She smiled at him as she stood. He just stared up at her, his bloody nose leaking down the side of his cheek. She took the handkerchief from her pocket and dropped it on his chest. “You can keep that,” she said before she walked off the veranda.

She intercepted Chaol as soon as she crossed the line of chalk. “How long did that take?” she asked. She found Nehemia beaming at her, and Celaena lifted her staff a little in salute.

“Two minutes.”

She grinned at the captain. She was hardly winded. “Better than Cain’s time.”

How slowly are these people moving? Why are we counting time? What is HAPPENING.

Anyway they have a toast.

“Out of good faith, and honor to the Great Goddess,” Kaltain said in a dramatic voice. Celaena wanted to punch her. “May it be your offering to the Mother who bore us all. Drink, and let Her bless you, and replenish your strength.”

I want that all noted for the record on the religion front.

Celaena is thrown directly into fighting Cain without any more of a rest and does not realize she’s been drugged.

The conqueror of Erilea raised his hands.

“Begin!” he roared, and Celaena shook her head, trying to clear her blurry vision. She steadied herself, wielding the staff like a sword as Cain began circling. Nausea flashed through her as his muscles flexed. For some reason, the world was still hazy. She clenched her teeth, blinking. She’d use his strength against him.

Cain charged faster than she anticipated. She caught his sword on the broad side with the staff, avoiding the sharp edges, and leapt back as she heard the wood groan.

He struck so quickly that she had to concede to the edge of his blade. It sank deep into the staff. Her arms ached from the impact. Before she could recover, Cain yanked his sword from her weapon and surged toward her. She could only bound back, deflecting the blow with the iron tip of the staff.

Given that Celaena is a, an assassin, b, just had a refresher course on poisons, and c, has been poisoned like this at least once before in the prequel novellas, I don’t know what to tell anybody here. Finally she gets it when she hears Kaltain laugh.

She had difficulty holding the staff. Cain came at her, and she had no choice but to meet his blows, barely having the strength to raise the weapon each time. How much bloodbane had they given her? The staff cracked, splintered, and groaned.

Did Nehemia give her a wimpy-ass staff or does Celaena just not know how to use it to deflect rather than just take the full force of a blade? His sword sinks into it, it splinters and cracks? Y’all. No.

She had to end this now, before the hallucinations started. She knew they’d be powerful: seers had once used bloodbane as a drug to view spirits from other worlds. Celaena shot forward with a sweep of the staff. Wood slammed into steel.

The staff snapped in two.

The iron-tipped head soared to the other side of the veranda, leaving Celaena with a piece of useless wood.

Y’all. Y’ALL. You don’t even know how much I’m despairing right now.

Anyway, we go through Dorian and Chaol’s PoVs in quick succession to show that they’re worried about her and are probably in love, because sure, that’s what’s important right now, why not.

Celaena starts seeing creatures from another world as Cain keeps beating her up and Chaol keeps telling her to get up. Apparently the eye of Elena actually was protecting her, because…

Cain reached for her throat, and she flung herself backward. All that he managed to grab was her amulet. With a resounding snap, the Eye of Elena ripped from her neck.

The sunlight disappeared, the bloodbane seizing control of her mind again, and Celaena found herself before an army of the dead. The shadowy figure that was Cain raised his arm, dropping the amulet upon the ground.

They came for her.

That’s the end of the chapter. Thank goodness.

COMPARISON

Say it with me: I despair.

These chapters are pretty different from each other, but I said I wanted to talk about Hem and food and I do.

Both Hem and Maerad have been deprived all their lives, and while Maerad is slightly less preoccupied with filling her stomach than Hem, she also does not in my memory refuse food when it is offered, and only ever delights in the fact that she has it. Hem, obviously, is a little more fixated, but Maerad usually got ENOUGH to eat by virtue of her musical talent and value and the whole superstition thing. Hem rarely did.

Celaena turns her nose up at salmon and complains when chicken is a little bit dry. It’s just not behavior I would expect from someone starved in a salt mine for a year.

Pellinor’s mythology and religion and society remains consistent. ToG’s still rolling with the one goddess lots of little gods thing for now.

I’m just glad that Celaena used an actual weapon (poorly) and didn’t try to get creative. God knows what she would have done with a blade of grass or something. Why are we timing our fights. How was Chaol watching the clock closely enough to know that AND watching the fight. This could all have been solved with some research.

STATS

Pages: 23

Fragments: 36

Em-Dashes: 50

Ellipses: 14

Pages: 22

Fragments: 6

Em-Dashes: 2

Ellipses: 13