#saskia plays me

[fenharel]

hurting because solas never wanted a body and never wanted to fight "he never wanted a body but she asked him to come", "he wants to give wisdom not orders" but he did it anyway. "i pulled you from the fade you loved and sent you into war. i used your wisdom as a weapon… and it broke you." inquisition forced him to slow down and just be himself. "solas, bright and sad, observes and accepts. spirit self, seeing the soul, solas, but somehow sorrows." lavellan nourished that. seeked out his wisdom. his purpose in the world. never twisted him, loving him as he was. she craddled the part of himself he wants to be in her palms. the part that was beaten and bruised and abused a millennia ago.

[fenharel-archived]

You are as thick as they come, sweetness. This is my personal play house. And you don't have an invite. Get. Out.

[theirwolfbicanthrope]

all that i have - eve/saskia/adam

thunder beats in my blood

How curious, that change their creator gave them - two hearts, two hands.

[autumncalls]

Man, I love concerts 🥹

[fllagellant]

Actually screamed so loudly pulling this card . Legendary card of a character I love and adore ???? Gwent app u spoil me

[izzymalec]

the women in this show are the absolulte mvp btw

[resplendentdare]

Saskia was absolutely devastated at the idea of Theo being without her, but she knew it was the inevitable way they would end. She would die either because of her lycanthropy or old age, while they barely aged a day.

She tried her best to keep her emotions from boiling over but it was practically impossible. "Noah's right," she said quietly. "You should let me go, I'm just going to cause more pain for you. And it hurts to say this, ripping my heart out would be less painful, but I know it's the best thing to do."

If she could take it back, made sure she didn't end up as a werewolf, she would've done it in a heartbeat. She wouldn't have gone to that stupid party, she wouldn't have tried to catch a ride home with some weird guy and ended up having to walk. She would just be normal.

Hiding her face in her hands, she let out a few loud sobs before trying her best to control herself. "I love you, Theo. God knows I do; I just don't know what to do. I can't do this, I shouldn't have to do this."

Theo still couldn't believe that any of this real. He couldn't believe he didn't figure out Saskia was a werewolf sooner. All the signs were there, why her scent was suddenly different, why she seemed to avoid him, why she would disappear around full moons.

Seeing how upset Saskia was by this as well was breaking Theo's heart. They knew deep down that their older brother was right and the two of them should just end things now. But he didn't want to give up on her.

"There has to be something we can do! We have to try!" Theo exclaimed, letting go of Saskia's hands to pace. "There has to be other werewolves around Hawkins... we should try and find them... we should-" they rambled before Noah came up and put his hand on his shoulder, stopping their spiral.

"Theo, you need to let her go, there is nothing to be done here," the older brother murmured. "No! I can't just walk away! I love her!" Theo yelled out as he moved away from Noah's touch.

Moving back over to Saskia, Theo gently wiped the tears from her eyes. "I was never going to be able to spend the rest of my life with you, I was always going to be the one to say goodbye first," he confessed, trying to hold back his own tears. "I am not going anywhere, you can't make me."

[fenharel]

most underrated solas/sera banter

[fenharel-archived]

gotta finish this evil bg3 playthrough real quick so I can replay dragon age

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

GIF: Originally posted by @simply---words

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dubious/non consent. Language. Kissing. Nudity. First time. AFAB + AMAB penetrative sex. Unprotected sex.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Hello there! How are you all doing? Thank you so much for sticking with me on this. I always hope I can get chapters out quickly and it always turns into 2+ weeks... Special thank you shout out to my IRL bestie @theviridianbunny for giving the chapter a once over ❤️Much love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

---------------------------------------------

Morpheus' eyes glint like onyx stones under firelight as he waits for you to yield. His breathing is as laboured as it was when you initially laid eyes on him, and with each exhale you are exposed more and more to the intoxicating scent that rolls off his alabaster skin.

One hand is braceleted around your wrist, thumb swiping back and forth over the veins there that jump frantically, the other steadies the solid appendage that nudges temptingly against your opening.

"I can see that you want this," he intonates proudly. "Your physical reactions inform me of all that I need to know."

Your attention darts down to the markers that are broadcasting your arousal: first to the hardened peaks of your nipples, and further down to blushing labia framing your swollen clit. Morpheus follows the same path with predatory meticulousness.

"Oh, yes, those reactions are delightfully obvious. Most of all here."

He drags the tip of his erection in a teasing circle around your entrance and smiles sadistically when you stiffen and whimper in response. He brushes his nose against yours, the playfulness of the gesture juxtaposed entirely by his next sentence.

"Your sweet enticing cunt, gushing as it prepares itself for entry."

If you could close your legs to shield yourself from further embarrassment you would, for his dirty words only add to the wetness that he has observed between them. It's now running onto the silk sheets, mingling with the pre-cum that drips from his poised cock.

Morpheus continues to speak, "But I would know from even more subtle signs: the shade of the flush on your chest, the curl of your toes, the arch of your back." He dips his head, breath feathering over the shell of your ear as he whispers, "You want penetration."

He is right. Of course he is.

The desire to be filled is powerful - a base instinct that is relentlessly chiselling away at your resolve. You swear you can hear a voice in your head chanting with every proverbial swing of the hammer:

Do it. Do it. Do it.

A conflicted whine pushes past the clench of your teeth.

Morpheus has fallen silent, his tongue tracing a scintillating path directly over your jugular, an action that makes you automatically twist to offer more of your neck to him. He doesn't oblige, instead he moves his head lazily and stares you down once more.

How was he so good at playing with you like this?

The question spends little time unanswered; the Maiden's words from the tail-end of your conversation with the Fates bounces to the forefront of your brain. "He has been made to be perfect for you."

It's the whole soulmates thing.

Speaking of the soul, to make matters worse, the ache in your chest is returning with ire. It appears that the touch of his skin is no longer enough to pacify the pain. A flash of recognition musters in your mind from the near-imperceptible sudden knit of Morpheus' brows, the tautness in his own chest; subdued cues that he shares this affliction.

You reach out with your free hand and spread your palm across his sternum, feeling the fierce shuddering there that matches yours.

His soul.

It is under the same stress as yours. He had said he could feel the sub-epidermal heat like you but had made no mention of this. Supernatural being or not, Morpheus is grappling with pain and it will simply not do.

Your eyes flick up, your decision made in the next heartbeat.

"I surrender."

Quicksilver flashes through those blackhole irises and with an exultant groan he sheathes himself within you.

You screw your eyes shut and cry out, amazed by how far he is able to push in before he meets resistance. The overstimulation you had been predicting is absent, as is the agony you feared would accompany it. It's just the involuntary constricting of your channel that you contend with, a metronome swinging between discomfort and enjoyment.

"Look at me," Morpheus commands in that velvet voice.

You comply, and when you do you see that his eyes are blue again. A pair of cerulean pools; tranquil, somewhere to shelter. If only you could relax enough to slip into those waters. There's so much tension in your jaw and balled fists, inside you.

"Breathe," he coaxes, guiding you with tenderness, a hand reaching to hold yours to give it a grounding squeeze.

You inhale slowly and shakily, mouth forming a shape of surprise when the muscles slacken and allow Morpheus to sink those last few centimetres within you.

The agony inside your chest ceases and from the small change in Morpheus' posture, you intuit that his has too. Heat like a solar flare envelopes you head to toe and the weight of his lustful stare only adds to the pyre.

"Mmm, that's it," he praises huskily, putting a forearm flat on the bed next to your face. "You feel divine, Y/N."

You nod zealously, unable to concur in any other way as he has robbed you completely of sentence forming. Your walls flutter as you adjust to the stretch, the feeling of this beautiful being bottomed out inside you. Your soulmate, exactly where he needs to be.

Morpheus makes the first move; a languid roll of his hips that grazes every place inside you, and releases breathy moans from you both. Your grab onto him, the spot where neck meets shoulder, as your mind scrambles to process the pleasure. With this initial test completed, he studies your expression, looking for any indication of a wish to stop. He finds none. Only a pair of expectant eyes overflowing with desire for him to keep teaching you like he promised.

He begins to rock into you with lavish, sensual thrusts. Your cunt unfurls even further to ease his movements; you are a moonflower, blooming under the night sky that overlooks the chamber, under his celestial form.

Remembering how much he liked it before, you move your free hand to play with his hair, eliciting deep-seated shudders all down his spine. It is joyous to inspire another such visceral reflex and you feel it pass through into your own body at each point of contact.

If he is a sculptor, you are the clay yielding beneath the presses of his body, shaping you into something entirely new - a lover. Just when he has you in the desired form, he changes everything.

He slows to a stop, still tucked safely within your warmth and secures his hands around your calves to bring them around his slight waist. You're not sure how it's possible but the change in elevation makes him feel even thicker.

His eyes are becoming darker again, gaze centred steadfastly on your face as he once more restrains both your wrists against the midnight coloured sheets. The semiotics give an unmistakable clue to his plan.

He's going to fuck you like he said he wanted.

You brace as he drags his cock back, and then he delivers a bruising thrust, animalistic grunt sounding low in his throat as the jut of his hip bones imprint into your flesh. A measure of dark lust is shot into your bloodstream and immediately you yearn for more of this roughness.

"Please," you say breathlessly.

He indulges you with a barrage of hammering thrusts, moans tumbling from your lips with abandon as warmth settles in your skeleton. His own vocalisations of pleasure syncopate with the completion of each thrust. The sound takes residence in your brain, his touch in every cell. The wish he had to occupy you in entirety is being granted.

You only take your eyes off him for a handful of seconds to look at the place where your bodies are joined, where he is slamming into you, the obscene image of it.

It's like he is an open flame and you are being doused in 99% proof vodka; the fire under your skin is so intense that your moans transform into screams. Morpheus consumes them all with the sudden seal of his mouth over yours.

The smothering action unlocks something inside you. In your chest, where your soul resides, it is vibrating aggressively, much more than it has done in the course of the evening thus far.

Morpheus notices the surge in the shaking and pulls back from the kiss.

"We must be close," he muses.

You feel the orb writhe in retaliation to his statement and your whole body does the same involuntarily.

"Shhh," he says in baritone purrs, pausing in his movements to soothe you. "A little longer and then I will breach the last defence about your soul."

His tone is confident as he restarts the powerful pace he has set, "I will not fail you."

He is stormy waves against a sea wall, bringing with it both the promise of blissful inundation and the threat of drowning. Yet you wouldn't mind drowning in him. A deep-rooted impulse tells you it would be an honour to lose yourself to the King of Dreams and Nightmares.

Your conclusion translates to the contraction of your calf muscles as you pull Morpheus tighter against you, deepening the physical connection to him as well as the emotional; choosing to submit fully to this somewhat scary situation - the tying together of your souls.

Pulling him closer, it's not without cost. The extra exertion, the deeper angle he can now reach, with all the pleasure it brings, quickly takes its toll. You are becoming weaker, his determined expression growing blurry, the edges of your vision field greying and closing in. You can't tell if you're about to climax or pass out.

Morpheus, observant and empathic, interlaces his fingers with yours and grips them tightly, clearly intent on keeping you here, not drifting off into the dimension of unconsciousness. Your returning hold is just as strong, perhaps a tad on the side of overtly vehement, but if it is then he doesn't seem to care. He just keeps railing into you, the warning signs of an oncoming orgasm beginning to daintily pulse through your walls.

A long-fingered hand reaches between your bodies to hover over your clit. With the last of your energy reserves, you arch up into his fingers, determined to reach your high, instinct telling you that it will somehow aid Morpheus in his endeavours.

He grunts sinfully in approval at your enthusiasm and uses the pad of his index finger to stimulate you, a familiar instruction issued as your soul jolts sharply, shockwaves rocking your bones.

"Let go."

The way he says the words, coupled with the movements of his hand and cock brings on the most intense orgasm you have ever experienced.

Five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds elapse where your muscles are clamping down, desiring to keep his still-moving length as deep inside as possible. You loudly say his name, pleasure devouring you whole as you look adoringly into Morpheus' indigo eyes, before you are devastated by a snapping sensation as he breaks your soul open.

You are splintered and for a measure of moments, the exposed edges of the shards threaten to turn your insides to ribbons. Your brace for lacerations is short-lived; his essence, like liquid lapis, pours in to bind the pieces of your soul. Melding with you on a metaphysical level. Waking you from the mortal life you had and greeting you with a new path.

While you have no basis for comparison, an errant thought occurs to you that what is transpiring between you and Morpheus is fulfilling something of unfathomable importance. Something that was borne far from this room, in both the measures of space and time. Primordial. Inexorable. This linking of your soul with his is the culmination of what the Fates have wanted for millennia.

And once your soul is content, your essence begins to reach out in return. Like tender shoots drawn towards solar light, your soul stretches past its boundary to embrace his.

It's the final trigger that allows Morpheus to find his own release. His mouth jumps in astonishment, eyes turning black, then silver, then blue; a broken groan echoing around the low-lit room as he buries his pulsating cock deep inside you and spills his seed into your cunt.

You keen from the warmth of it, and you swear the fast paced breaths he is taking sound like melodies carried on ocean breezes.

The stars above you have been joined by dancing swathes of green and purple - a depiction of the Aurora Borealis at its finest. It swells with each inhale that Morpheus takes, his state having a direct effect on the sky. The colours catch the high points of his face, glowing vibrantly on his cheekbones, nose bridge and cupid's bow.

You wonder if this is the most beautiful sight you will ever see. The perfect face of your ethereal soulmate, framed by celestial splendour, gazing at you with the same devotion that you are casting towards him. But then he smiles. A small, genuine smile that makes your heart soar despite its fatigue, and it's clear that there will never be anything that can compare.

Morpheus then lowers his head to your chest and presses his lips to your healed soul.

"You are complete," he declares.

-------------------------------------

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

Blinding: "Felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids. Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs. No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone. No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden. No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love with the wrong world."

[inhurtandincomfort]

Settling In

Part One / Masterlist

CW: Kidnapped, captivity, [past] abusive relationship, intimate whumper, unpredictable whumper, very brief, very lightly referenced noncon - I don't know if it even reads as such, but considering it's where the series will go at some point anyway I'd rather play it safe.

After being kidnapped by his abusive ex-boyfriend Lukas, Kieran finds himself reliving the fear he thought he'd left behind. Tonight is just about settling in; the real fun hasn't even begun.

He was led to an underground basement, a dark, dingy place with musty smell from a lack of ventilation. A single light bulb flickered weakly, not quite stretching across the entire room, it's warm glow unable to touch the gloomy atmosphere. A metal bed frame that looked like something from an old hospital sat in the middle, head against the wall with free space either side save for one wooden table, chipped and stained. An ancient mattress sat atop the frame, with little else. A wooden chair sat nearby facing the bed.

It was like something from a horror movie, Kieran thought, as he followed Lukas tremulously, another man trailing close behind to make sure he didn't run. Not that he'd get very far if he tried; he didn't get the chance to look around, but what he did see were lots of trees, a dense forest spanning miles and miles. And they still had their cars, to boot. He wouldn't have a chance.

"Your new home," Lukas proudly announced, spreading his arms like it was a grand reveal. "It's not much, I know. You're not gonna be given everything on a silver platter this time, Angel. You'll have to earn privileges, such as nice food, clothes, and a better room. Until then, you'll have to ask me or Saskia when you want to use the bathroom - there is a bucket for emergencies." He kicked a bucket under the bedside table.

Kieran's skin crawled, shame creeping up him like a vine piercing his flesh. This is what his life had come to? Even a dog was afforded better conditions.

Lukas stepped in front of him and Kieran flinched, shrinking back from his hovering hands.

"Relax. I'm just going to take the gag off. Though if you want to keep it on, that can be arranged…"

Kieran shook his head frantically, forcing his posture to lighten. Lukas chuckled, reaching around to untie the fabric.

"That's what I thought." He paused before taking it off fully, "Don't scream. No one's around to help you anyway, but I will find it very annoying, and you don't want that do you?"

No, he didn't want that at all. Kieran bowed his head in a gesture of submission. He didn't have to look have to see Lukas' smirk. But it was a relief to be rid of the rancid taste of the fabric. Kieran worked his jaw, stiff from hours -days?- of misuse.

"What-" He tried, but it came out more of a croak.

"Shh. I'll give you some water in a minute. Come over here, and then you can ask your questions." Lukas placed a hand on his back, steering him over to the bed, or more like a cot. His fear must have shown on his face, for Lukas laughed, gently pushing him down to sit.

"Relax. I'm not going to do anything. Tonight's just about getting you settled in." Lukas pulled out a switchblade and sliced through the ropes that bound Kieran with ease. He automatically went to rub his sore wrists, but the relief was short lived as Lukas instead procured a pair of handcuffs, attaching one end to Kieran's wrist and securing the other around the bedframe. Kieran tugged, the metal clinking together, but they wouldn't budge.

"Sorry, but you can't be trusted," Lukas said lightly, as if this was all just a game. It probably was, to him. True to his word, he handed Kieran a plastic bottle of water, removing the cap before passing it to him. Kieran drank greedily, not even stopping to question whether it was safe. It tasted alright, though, and frankly it was either drink what was offered or eventually die of dehydration anyway. May as well take a chance.

After a moment Lukas took it back, "Easy, not so fast," He chided, screwing the cap back on and placing it on the nightstand. "I'll leave it there, if you behave. Now, it's about time we had a little catch up, don't you think?" He turned to the two men standing guard by the stairs. "You two can go," He made a shooing motion, "He's not going anywhere now."

As their heavy boots thudded up creaking steps, Lukas pulled up a chair, resting his head in his hands as he watched Kieran almost eagerly, looking at him with such utter devotion that perhaps would have been cute in another situation, from someone like Abi. From someone like Lukas it was terrifying.

"I'm sure you must have much to say. Go on; you can speak freely for now."

"Why are you doing this?" Kieran tried to sound bold, but he couldn't hide the tremble in his voice. He was used to being afraid; he'd spent many nights tiptoeing around the apartment they shared, scared to even breathe too loudly for fear of getting on Lukas nerves. One step out of place had the potential to send Lukas into a rage, every minor error a cardinal sin in his eyes. Maybe Kieran didn't clean well enough, or maybe he wasn't enthusiastic enough in his responses. He was always either too loud, or too quiet. He was too pushy, or he didn't care at all. Everything he did was wrong. Every word a potential spark on the fuse.

Lukas carefully moulded Kieran into what he wanted him to be. A toy, a trophy, there to look pretty and show off in public only to cast him aside at home. He smiled. He laughed. He tended to Lukas' needs while he himself drowned. He was never a lover, not to Lukas; he was just a plaything.

Kieran had tried so, so hard to break free. But here, now, it all came flooding back so easily. He was never free. Not really.

Lukas brow furrowed. "Because I missed you, silly. How else was I supposed to bring you home? Didn't you miss me?"

"I…" Kieran swallowed. "It's been so long… Didn't you move on? I found friends, a job, built a life. Didn't you build a life without me?"

A shadow flashed across Lukas' face. "How could I? You were everything to me. With you gone, I fell apart. I wasn't a nice person without you around, Angel. I lost my job. Lost my friends. I lost myself." Kieran jumped back as Lukas lurched forward, his fingers digging painfully into Kieran's arms. "You left me." Lukas sounded… genuinely upset. His voice rose, wracked with tremors like a volcano preparing to erupt. "You left me, abandoned me! Threw me out like I was trash, like I was nothing after all I did for you!" His last words came out in a growl, and he shot to his feet, kicking the chair aside. He paced the room erratically, running a hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea how it feels? To came home to an empty house, all your belongings gone, a note on the table. No way to contact you. Was I not even worth telling in person!? Hell, not even text! No, you just went ahead and blocked my number. Well just fuck me, right!? Two years meant so little to you?" He stopped in the middle of the room, closing his eyes with his head tilted back.

He took a deep breath. His next words were calmer, more controlled but no less dangerous. "It's okay, though. I forgive you. You hurt me, you hurt me deeply, you ruined everything - but I forgive you. We'll fix this. We'll make it right again, the two of us."

Kieran's heartbeat thrummed in his ears as he stared at Lukas with wide, terrified eyes. His hands were cold and clammy, slick with sweat. His whole body quivered violently, fear gripped his throat tightly like a leash around his neck. This was just like last time. This was worse than last time, at least last time they pretended he had freedom. Now he was literally chained to bed in a fucking serial-killer basement. Icy dread gnawed at his insides, clawing it's way to the surface after so long in the darkness. Whispering in his ear a fatal truth he didn't want to believe.

He wasn't going to make it of this alive.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please consider reblogging, it really helps the reach! And don't be afraid to leave a comment with your thoughts, we authors love hearing them :D

@thataquaticwhumper this was so long ago but you wanted to be pinged for part 2, sorry it's so late!

[markrosewater]

Hello! Last time I wrote, I asked about Planar Chaos, and whether design might go back to something like that with the color pie. Thank you for your response. I can appreciate how it was a novel idea back then, but you do it more now in small ways over time. My next question also has to do with color. Like a lot of people, I love commander. I've created a challenge for myself. I'm trying to build a deck in every color combination. I finally finished colorless, which was a challenge I've been afraid of since I started playing in Alara. Now I'm looking at four color commanders. I have Omnath. I love Omnath. Landfall's been a favorite, since Zendikar is close to my heart. And oh. There's Atraxa. Atraxa excites me. I think I'll focus her on poison counters. But then there's the other combinations. After the Nephilim in Guildpact, most call them Glint, (no white) Dune, (no blue) and Witch (no red). I see Breya, Saskia, and Yidris. They're awesome cards, and Yidris excites me somewhat. But it feels like a very tiny box that's been built many, many times before. And those three cards are really it for those three color groupings. There's a whole bunch of representation for WURG especially with Doctor Who UB, and WUBG has the two Atraxa. But the other three don't get much. Partner is an option I've considered. But at a glance, it seems a bit forced. Do you think design will do more with the quad-color groupings? Would a set like Alara or Tarkir be possible, but with quad-color tribes? Or does that overcomplicate design too much?

Four-color legendary cards are in a weird place. We don't want to make them such that people are just using them to play more colors in Commander, so it means we have to be very focused in what they're doing, and finding a home for such a design is tricky.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

New series idea: analysing my favourite (underrated) lines from Six of Crows

I feel like I haven't given you any analysis in a while, and I've had this idea for some time now so I thought it was worth giving it a try. This is going to be a list of my personal favourite quotes in Chapter 2 of Six of Crows with explanation/analysis for any that I have an explanation/analysis for - but if a famous or popular quote isn't included then it's not because I don't like it, it's just because I don't feel I have anything new to add to the existing analyses around it. And yeah, if you guys like this then I'll make it a more regular thing and go through chapter by chapter (probably sometimes including multiple chapters in one post), so let me know what you think!

(Also, I chose to start with Chapter 2 on purpose because I don't have loads to say about Chapter 1, but if anyone is interested I'm open to trying it in the future)

"every favour came with enough strings attached to stage a puppet show" - ugh words cannot explain my love of this quote. Not only is this a gorgeous and vibrant metaphor that brings forth very clear imagery, it also achieves two different concepts relating to the idea of the "puppet show". Firstly, we have the idea that Kaz is the puppet master and Ketterdam is his stage; he is in complete control, he can bend the city to his whims, and it's ultimate his say that can make or break someone. This is definitely the image we're given of Kaz in the opening two chapters, and this singular line really reinforces that, however the rest of the book and many of the descriptions in Crooked Kingdom unravel this view very quickly. This description far better fits Pekka Rollins, which brings me onto the other concept relating to the "puppet show": the question of who it actually is pulling the strings. Arguably Kaz is a puppet on Rollins' stage, and Rollins a puppet on the Merchant Councils'. each has power but each is ultimately at the whims of the other. This brings worth the suggestion that something darker is at play and that there's far more to Kaz than initally meets the eyes before we've even met him, so in short it's just completely and utter genius.

"Kaz hated a puzzle he couldn't solve, and he and Inej had concocted a hundred theories to account for the murder - none of which satisfied" - again, Kaz has thus far said a single line, and not one with a lot of information in it ("Yes and no. It's always good to have a country in debt to you, makes for friendlier negotiations) and yet we know so much about him - and even some details about his relationship with Inej! It even tells us a lot about Inej; we've been presented with a figure heralded as near-omnipotent in his city, someone no-one wants to be on the wrong side of, someone who has complete control over every conversation he has with you, and she is someone with whom he will spend hours trying to solve a riddle? So then, the reader is forced to think, what kind of power does she has? What makes her worthy of his closeness, why does he trust her, and why does she know him well enough to so intimately know his likes and dislikes? Inej hasn't even spoken yet.

"But it didn't feel neutral to Inej. It felt like the hush of the woods before the snare yanks tight and the rabbit starts to scream" - ok most of my enjoyment of this quote is just of the beautiful prose, however I would like to add that all six Crows experienced this sort of 'calm before the storm' leading up to the most painful experiences of their lives - Wylan thinking he could go to music school, Inej at the beach with her parents and calling sleepily to the man she though was her father, Kaz staying at the cafe and meeting Margit and Saskia, Matthias knowing he was going to be a big brother, Jesper seeing his mother for the last time when she picked him up and hugged him even though he was up past his bedtime, Nina feeling that she had purpose and loving the way she could help her country - so this could be considered foreshadowing.

" 'Care to place a wager?' Jesper asked.

'I'm not going to bet on my own death,'

Kaz flipped his hat onto his head and ran his gloved fingers along the brim in a quick saulte. 'Why not Bolliger? We do it every day,' "

"Kaz had done his best to teach her, but she didn't quite have his way with breaking and entering, and it took her a few tries to finesse the lock" - my main source for liking this quote comes from an analysis I did a while ago when someone asked me about comapring this quote and Kaz's self-proclaimed "shoddy job" of teaching her to pick locks. It's a while since I posted that so I'll run through it here briefly, basically it's very indicative of their relationship dynamic. Whilst both place the other on a pedestal, they do it in different ways, and Kaz particularly often glorifies Inej and almost finds it difficult to accept that she, like anyone, must be flawed. So if she fails at something, like picking locks as well as he can, and she cannot possibly be flawed then the error must be in his teaching - it can never be with her. It's also a glaring example of Kaz's self-destructive nature. My other reason for liking this quotes is just that it once again tells us about the characters so early on and without having to directly explain it to us - we know Kaz is good with locks because he tried to teach Inej and she isn't as good as him, but she still manages to get it open.

' "I'm a business man,' he'd told her, 'No more, no less,'

'You're a thief, Kaz,'

'Isn't that what I just said?' " - I ADORE this, but honestly all I can say for analysis is that it sums up the entire theme of the novels beuatifully.

"Now he looked like some kind of priest come to preach to a group of circus performers" - this sets up a great parallel that I've mentioned before in one of my "little details you might have missed/forgotten" posts, but it's also interesting to have it come from Inej's perspective since she's incredibly religious and performed as a travelling acrobat with her family. It's probably drawn from personal experience, someone in dark clothes who judges the brightness of Suli traditional clothing and/or culture and tries to preach religion to a group who've already long found it because they don't align with thier idea of religion. It's even possible that she links that idea with Kaz, not because of his actions but because he's from a country that has perversely sexualised and condemned her culture and he dresses like the rich merchants who would preach this exact kind of message - and possibly even have visited her at the Menagerie, where she was forced to appropriate her own heritage and way of life for the enjoyment of those who look down it with no reason for doing so.

"Inej pitied the boy who might die alone with no one to comfort him in his last hours or who might live and spend his life as an exile. But the night's work wasn't over yet, and the Wraith didn't have time for traitors" - this is one of the few but fabulous examples we get of the idea that "Inej" and "the Wraith" are separate entities; Inej being the girl she was, the girl she should have been, and the Wraith being a creation of necessity to aid survival. Inej is a religious young woman from Ravka who has been through far more than she should have done, but the Wraith was born and raised on the blood-soaked streets of Ketterdam and has every intention of surviving them - no matter the cost. This concept is only mentioned a few times, however it runs a beautiful parallel with the distinction between Kaz Rietveld and Kaz Brekker, or Kaz and Dirtyhands depending on how you look at it.

Ok I realise this is a pretty long post but thanks for reading it if you got this far, and I really enjoyed making this so please let me know if you guys would enjoy seeing more. And, in summary, Leigh Bardugo is a genius

[cristalbeesnow]

something I feel very robbed of? the second part of kaz's life, after jordie's death. there were so many things to say! not only his second meeting with the man who took everything away from him, not only how he broke his leg and perhaps his revenge against Saskia (the other accomplices were skipped in the show) but also his meeting with Inej and with jesper, the crush on imogene, how kaz understands that he has become aphephobic, his survival in the streets of ketterdam... ok we would have had few scenes like jordie's part (which I honestly hoped would be many more) but I feel the same very robbed. I know that the little actor who played Kaz has grown up now (obviously) and would have been perfect as a teenage Kaz having the same age as the scenes indicated above (or a little older but with make-up everything is done even if the encounters with Jesper and inej probably would have filmed them freddy) netflix you disappointed me! you don't want the show anymore? sell it to third parties... ugh! what a disappointment... not to mention the other crows...

[izzymalec]

girl i had another apartment visitation today and i effin broke the fucking door of the kitchen cabinet lmao bury me bury me bury me bury me bury me bury me

[zorya-reads]

Chapter 7.

The Lost Princess

Context: Ellie is jealous of Jamie’s new bestie Haru and drowning in her own messy emotions about Lottie. Meanwhile, the gang gets hooked on a viral video of a montage of a pretty girl on a pink motorbike and a sparking treasure hunt at school.

ELLIE SMELLING LIKE LOTTIES COLOUR DHDHJS

ANASTACIA HAVING A PINK SHAMPOO>>>

Not Jamie and Haru acting like a married couple 💀💀

Also we stan that Jamie finally realised that he only gets paid for protecting Ellie (even though he literally isn't there most of the time but ok) and not for talking to her. We stan

Ellie being jealous of Haru HAHA. I love how we get to see a bit more on that side of the triangle.

Ok I give up. I want to like Saskia. Why do I want to like her.

“Why can't I be his friend” (Ellie, quite) girl.…..because you can't treat your friends like shit and also enforce a power balance.

Hold up. Ellie does have a small spark self criticism

I love the difference between how Ellie describes Jamie physically (features, very good for drawing the character) versus how Lottie describes Jamie physically (greek goddess statue thirst-traps™️)

Ok hold up. Ellie's physical description of Lottie reminds me of Lottie's descriptions of Jamie.

Lollie thoughts wohoo

THERES A MEDITATION COURSE??? YOU CAN GET CREDIT FOR DOING NOTHING?? I'm so gonna switch to that school.

Ok I'm disappointed Marty Sue™️ Jamie isn't fluent in Japanese as well. Should have hit up Duolingo on the plane.

Ooo We get more to see of Ellies insecurities!!

The pink demon sounds fun (During the whole description my brain played Blackpink's Pink Venom instrumental HAH)

Also, I didn't read it anywhere prior but I'm 100% sure the biker gang is sayuri and friends; which is a biT pAinFuLLy obvious and I'm unsure if we're supposed to get it that early

Yooooo Sayuri

Might be that I overead this previously BUT NO WAY THEY CAN USE PHONES. Lottie you better vlog this whole experience for Ollie.

I hate you, kindly.

Gosh I literally have no thoughts about Haru. Or actually too many. HYBSBDBS

I may or may have not just realised Binah isn't on this trip too. I'm low-key mad. Like her and Sayuri???? Would have love to seen that friendship dynamic

Ok I love Sayuri.

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Premise: I’m rereading the Rosewood Chronicles Series for the first time after years, so take my chaotic commentary with a grain of salt (or a whole salt shaker). Open to spoilers.