#shall i tag the other character i wrote about?

[chronically-ghosted]

WIP Wednesday 🎉🎉

kisses all day long for @almostfoxglove and @sp00kymulderr for the tags and 😱 i actually have something things to show off! (proof i am not mostly just sitting on my ass)

Opening scenes from Lover Share Your Road Part 3

With your elbow, you tip the brim of your hat until it slides off the crown of your head and falls against the knot of your spine, held tight to you by the dirty cords around your neck. You are suddenly intimately aware of the layer of grime and sweat against your scalp when the cool cellar air strokes you over your forehead and behind your neck, the chill erupting goosebumps down your arms, the small wooden box in your hands shaking. Against your sun-hot skin, it’s relieving, comforting, a respite against what has been feeling more and more like trying to dig through concrete with your fingernails. The fine layer of dirt over the most recent harvest in the box shifts. The dirt in the curves and crevices of your skin and shirt and pants, over the potatoes and carrots, shifts, sprinkling the cellar floor with a cruel mockery of rain. The dirt is everywhere these days.

(and here comes the downward spiral of my shame)

a while back (i mean a WHILE BACK) I got a request for an ABO Joel and . . . listen. it's something - mostly a lot of Seether and Rise Against - but it's also this:

“And as an Omega,” her gaze rolls over you, as if inspecting a new machine for cracks, “you’re supposed to be intimidated.” You lift your drink to your lips, grinning as it dribbles around the corners of your mouth. You lick your chin. She smells like magnolias, faintly. Like dead magnolias, stuffed and pickled. You wonder what she’d smell like clean of inhibitors. “‘Supposed to be’. None of that shit matters anymore. It’s the end of the world, didn’t you hear?” “So Alphas don’t bother you.” “Nope.” You pop your lips on the p, catching a drop of condensation on the side of your glass with your thumb, then your mouth. “Alphas can’t control Omegas like that anymore. But I think you knew that.”

(yes that is Tess 👀)

And, yes, there is one more. It's what I've been using to get back into writing after a rather long break. The original concept started as "being in love with someone who doesn't age would be a gift because they would see you and know you, really know you, all your life, as a sort of guardian angel." and then, well, it feels long, it feels self-indulgent, but i'm actually having some fun with it. No, I'm not going to tell you what character its for - you can just come publicly shame me in my ask box as god intended.

Despite him being several inches taller than you, you somehow manage to yank him down to your level, nose inches from the back of your hand, which is still sealed over his mouth. “I’ve worked my ass off to get to the top of my graduating class and I’ve been a good girl all my life and, goddamn it, I want a fucking beer. If I were anywhere else in the world, I could waltz up and buy one, but I’m not and I’m fucked, here in this specific bar . . . so just shut – up!” Get caught by the bouncer and tossed out on your ass or assault a former professor and a current mutant with truly hair-raising, deadly abilities you’ve seen repeatedly in action; the devil you know or the devil you-sort-of-kind-of-know-but-really-just-know-from-being-in-proximity-as-long-as-you-can-remember-combined-with-an-age-inappropiate-hero-worship-complex. And of course, he just had to remember that stupid nickname you were once so proud of you legitimately considered tattooing it on your arm. But if he was going to tease you with it, your hand over his mouth was doing a smashing good job of preventing that. Your hand over his mouth seems to be preventing a lot of things actually – he’s still standing there, hunched down – until he realizes he’s fallen right into your heinous trap of tomfoolery.

that's it for now, folks. passing along the love to:

@clawdee @covetyou @iamskyereads @imaswellkid @sweetercalypso

[leighsartworks216]

All This And Heaven Too

Demon!Sylus x gn!Angel!Reader

Based on this post

Title from "All This And Heaven Too" by Florence and the Machine

This fic possessed me and would not let me go until I wrote it tonight (which is bad cuz I'm sick). Very very very vague spoilers for the end of Sylus's story

Also I'm not religious and I do not smoke but the vibes, y'all, I simply had to (I looked up a wikihow for smoking)

Warnings: heavy angst, angels + demons au, major character death, unhappy ending, hurt no comfort, blood, injury, crying, kissing, drugs + smoking, underage smoking, pet names, religious imagery + symbolism, swearing

Word Count: 2,557

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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You sigh as you feel the oh so familiar sensation of a cigarette being shoved into your halo’s golden glow. There’s an inhale behind you, and the sensation is gone. Sure enough, when you turn around, the demon stands proudly, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Thanks, angel,” the demon, Sylus, purrs. The smoke blows into your face and you fan it away with your hand. He chuckles. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Well, it’s only been 3 centuries. How much was I supposed to change in that time?”

He studies you lazily, tilting his head and taking another drag. He settles down on a low stone wall, worn on the edges and covered in old paint. “Not interested in small talk today, angel?”

You cross your arms defensively over your chest. It’s been a long time since he’s seen you this on-edge around him. “I don’t know how you can think about anything else.” You look at the people passing by.

Teens in helmets and knee pads rolling past on boards or skates, others with no protective gear at all trying to pull off complicated flips and tricks. A couple sat under a curved wall, passing a blunt back and forth. Sylus had teased you relentlessly the first time he came across you in a place like this. Watching all these young souls take up vices so early in their lives, put their bodies on the line and break bones for a bit of fun. You didn’t notice the drugs and alcohol as much nowadays. You just saw the smiles.

“All of this will be gone in just a few days… Doesn’t that…” You glance at him. “Doesn’t that upset you?”

A kid walks up to Sylus, gesturing with his messily rolled up joint for a light. Sylus presses the end of his cigarette to the end without a word. The revolting stench of marijuana filled the air as the kid walked away. “Why should it?”

You glare at him and he chuckles.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What I meant to say was, ‘Heavens above, it’s a terrible tragedy! The horror of it all!’”

“I could smite you right now. One less demon for Hell’s army would be no loss to us.”

“But it would be to you.” He sighs, scanning the skatepark. A melancholy settles in his expression. “I suppose I will miss it. Humans know the best ways to have a good time.”

You hum. “I did always enjoy their weddings.”

“I was thinking something along the lines of lust, greed, and pride.”

“I know.”

You glance at the spot beside him. He holds the cigarette in the corner of his mouth as he takes off his leather jacket and lays it across the stone. You perch primly on it with a nod of thanks. He takes the cigarette from his mouth and holds it out to you. You stare at it with a grimace.

“This could be your last chance to try it,” he cajoles. “I promise you won’t get sent to Hell for a little thing like this.”

You glance at his face. Piercing red eyes stare at you, but you know he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. Not anymore, anyway.

You begin to reach for it but he pulls it just out of your reach. He holds the butt end to your lips, but you look at him with that sweet little look of innocence, utterly helpless.

“Shall I demonstrate first?” He puts it between his lips, the corners curled up into a devilish grin. The ashes on the end trail a little further down the paper as he inhales the tobacco smoke. He takes it out of his mouth, pauses for a second, and blows it out, away from your face this time. He holds it back to your lips. “Don’t do too much. I want this to be a good experience for you.”

“Your temptations are hardly enticing,” you scold, but there’s no venom behind it. You carefully put your lips around the filter, where his were just seconds ago, and suck in. You can’t help watching his face as you do, searching for instructions through his expressions. He nods just slightly and you pull away, holding it in for a moment like he did, and exhaling.

He brings it back to his lips. “Well?”

You scowl as you try to get the taste out of your mouth. “How do you like that?”

“Oh, angel. People don’t like the taste - not really, anyway. It’s the chemicals that trick you into thinking you need it, pulling you to it over and over again.” He leans in. His eyes gleam. “Addiction.”

“Hmph. Should I try to find something pure for you to try now?”

He shakes his head. “I already know what the holy experience is like. I’m just fine not going back to it for a second.”

A drugged-up teenager with no protective gear goes down the old wooden half-pipe. It’s been in disrepair for years. The local governments don’t care at all about trying to keep anything here in good upkeep; they haven’t for decades. His wheel catches on a broken board and sends him flying. His body scrapes against splinters and bent nails, tearing at his clothing and flesh. To add insult to injury, his skateboard goes up the other side and comes right down on his head. You can tell even from a distance that he’s broken something. He lays there for a while, groaning.

Sylus isn’t surprised when an ambulance arrives a couple minutes later, despite nobody having called for their services.

“Do you know where you’ll be stationed?” you ask. You try to seem cool-headed about the thought of going into war, but there’s a waver in your voice that he catches as easily as recognizing a lie.

“Linkon City. On the frontlines.” He passes the nearly-gone cigarette back over when he sees your hands fidget restlessly with the hem of his jacket. “What about you?”

You take it from him with inexperienced fingers, but you don’t cough this time either as you take a slightly deeper draw from it. He could almost say he’s proud, if he ignored the omen of a smoking angel.

“The same for me.”

He takes the spent cigarette from you and puts it out against a spray painted yellow smile. “So I’ll see you there, then.”

You watch the ambulance pull away with the kid on a stretcher in the back.

Sylus stands up. It’s only when he gestures to his jacket that you follow, stepping away so he can retrieve it and put it on. It’s a hot summer day, but even dressed in all black and leather, he says it’s too cold. If Hell wins… you wonder if you’ll understand what he means, then.

“If we fight each other-”

“Why do you sound so upset about it, angel?”

You take a deep breath. Your golden eyes, blessed by the light of God, stare at him with a deep seriousness. “If we fight each other, we can’t hold back. You know that, right?”

He nods slowly. “I know.”

“I… I won’t hold back.”

He nods.

“Not even for you.”

He nods again. “I know, angel.”

You nod, settling that promise into your brain. Your frown hasn’t faltered at all.

“For what it’s worth…” Red eyes look at you with no waver in confidence, but that melancholy hasn’t faded yet. “Of all the angels I could have had the displeasure of knowing, I’m glad it was you.”

-

The city was a husk of its former self. Where once people walked to and fro, going to work or the movies or the arcade, demons and angels fought in a holy war. It was chaos at every turn. Armies donned in white and black, fighting tooth and nail to win.

You had your orders. They were easy to follow: kill any demon in sight. You prayed for God to end this war before it could begin. You prayed for the final days leading up to it for this to never come to pass. You prayed until someone ripped your hands apart and shoved a sword into them.

If your body functioned like a normal human’s, you would have been panting, gasping for air as you stole through a wrecked lobby and into a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by tall buildings. Your body would have ached from exhaustion, and you think a normal human would have fallen unconscious by now.

Your body does not function that way.

Your breaths are even as you turn in a slow circle, watching for any intruders. The fight rages on mere feet away, but in here you can almost forget.

A tree stands proudly in the center. Its branches overhand a small, tiered garden. Flowers decorate the wooden boxes, spilling out over the sides from care and dedication. You gently lift one of the hanging blossoms and bend down to smell it.

Something sharp touches your neck.

You’re frozen in place. Caught off guard, staring at the flower, memorizing it so that when the killing blow comes, it is the last thing you see. The last meaningful reminder of the humans’ blessed existence.

“Hello, angel.”

You turn your head so sharply you almost cut yourself on his blade. Relief and dread swell in you all at once, a miasma of discontent. Sylus grins at you as relaxed as ever and lowers the black sword to his side.

A hollow breeze swishes his hair across his forehead. The longer strands catch in his eye, but he doesn’t brush them away. The horns on his head are sharper, crueller than usual; as dark as the deepest pit of Hell.

The golden glow of your halo highlights the planes of his face.

“Don’t hold back, remember?” he says. “Don’t lose that conviction on me now.”

Your hand shakes as you tighten your grip on your sword. You raise it in front of you. The sharpened point raised to the heavens, a symbol of your devotion. You swallow. “I won’t.”

He mirrors your position, the end of his sword aimed for the hells below. His hands are steady. He nods. That damned grin widens on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “I know, angel.”

Sylus attacks first. He has to. You’re paralyzed, unable to make the first offensive move. You defend instead, blocking and parrying his every move. The tree stands watch. A silent aegis to your battle.

He cuts your right cheek, and you jump away to collect yourself. The pain feels too real. How is this the natural end of the world? How can your God sit idly by and witness you crossing blades with the one creature across the Heavens, Hells and Earth whom you called friend? What merciful God would want this?

Blood drips slowly down your jaw from the small wound. Sylus paces around you like a wolf hunting wounded prey. You know he will destroy you.

You take a breath and raise your sword again. Your hand does not shake.

You strike first, reigniting the fight he lit.

It’s grueling. Neither of you dares to give in now. Hesitating would be to die. And not only did neither of you want to die, neither of you wanted to kill the other. It’s a battle built to be a stalemate. A war never meant to be won.

At least, you wish it was.

Both hands grab the hilt of your sword, holding it steady. Sylus grabs the blade.

He chuckles. It’s weak. Strained. His eyes match the blood pouring from his chest as he looks up at you. He falls to his knees. You follow.

“Well done, angel.” He wheezes, eyes squeezed shut in pain as he hunches over your blade. The sides dig into his hand, slicing his palm and fingers. “You… You won.”

All at once, the reality of the situation hits you.

“No…” You support your sword with one hand as you scramble on your knees to be closer. You grab his shoulder, sitting him up so you can see where you’ve impaled him. You let go of the sword to rest both hands on his chest on either side of the wound. “No, no, no, no, don’t- You can’t-”

Golden light shines in your hands, but black and red tendrils block your healing. You try harder, until the light blinds you, but the demonic powers within him refuse to relent. Sylus watches you with soft eyes and a grin.

“Angel,” he mumbles. You grunt in frustration as you press harder against the wound. His hand slides off the blade and covers yours. You’re panting from exertion as you finally meet his eyes. “I think… I think I wanna try somethin’ holy now… You got anything in mind?”

The glow fades. The darkness fades. You cradle the back of his head with a blood-soaked hand. It stains his hair. Your other hand grips his like a lifeline, squeezing blood from the cuts there. He doesn’t stop you.

“Something holy?” You search his face, wracking your brain for any ideas. “Okay… Okay, I can do that.”

You begin stroking his hair tenderly, scratching at his scalp, scraping sweat, blood and oil under your nails. He sighs, head resting heavily into your care. His eyes are half closed. He forces them to stay open.

You scoot yourself closer, until your knees are touching his. You lift his head up and bring your lips to his forehead. This close, you listen to every breath he takes. Every rasp and groan he exhales. You pull away reluctantly, ducking your head down so your forehead rests over your lingering kiss.

“How’s-” You clear your throat after your voice cracks. “How’s that?”

“Isn’t kissing… a sin…?”

You shake your head. “No, no, it’s not.”

He hums quietly. “You ever… kiss anyone… angel?”

You laugh despite yourself and shake your head again. “No, I haven’t.”

“Shall I… demonstrate…?”

“I’d like that.”

He abandons his sword on the ground beside him. It clatters against the carefully laid brick of the courtyard. His hand is agonizingly slow to find your cheek. His palm is cold. His thumb strokes the cut he gave you.

“C’mere… angel.”

You follow his weak guidance as he tilts your chin, pulling your lips to his. His lips barely move. You press against them a little harder.

His hand slips from your cheek, knuckles scraping over the bricks and jostling his sword. You pull away.

His eyes are hollow. Red irises staring into nothingness.

“Sylus…?” His head lolls in your hand when you try to adjust. “Sylus, please-” Your eyes fill with water. “Please, it’s not funny. I don’t need your tricks right now. Please-”

You let go of his wounded hand to hold his face with both hands. Blood from your touch stains his cheeks. Hot tears slip down your cheeks.

“Please, I- I can’t do this without you… I don’t want to do this without you…”

He doesn’t respond.

You press your forehead to his again, leaning over his body as gravity stakes its claim on him. Your tears land on his face, falling down his cheekbones and jaw as if he was the one crying, not you.

“Please… Please…” You kiss his cold lips. “Please…”

Nobody hears your prayers.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover

[notsorryiml8]

Shoutout to Naruto fans! Shoutout to Naruto as a manga/anime! And a special shoutout to Kakashi! And Team 7!

Why you may ask? If you click on the tumblr year in review banner, it ranks tumblr tags for the year. In the anime/manga category, Naruto came in 9/100! Why, you may or may not ask, is this so awesome? Well, because if you look at the results, you’ll see that almost (almost!) everything ranked higher is either still actively airing or recently ended (One Piece, JJK, Dungeon Meshi, MHA, etc…), so a lot could be said for recency bias, which is natural and expected. If it wasn’t that way, that would be newsworthy.

And that is why Naruto gets a shoutout! Manga/anime hasn’t actively aired/been produced in a decade and recently celebrated it’s 25th (yes, it’s been 1/4 of a CENTURY since Naruto originally aired) and is still 9/100!! That says a lot about its fan base. A LOT. Go Naruto fans!

As for Kakashi and Team 7, in the anime character chart, Kakashi was ranked 54/100, with Sasuke ranked 56th, Naruto, 63rd, and Sakura 79th. So, all of Team 7 made the top 100, with Kakashi placing highest out of any Naruto character. Sensei ranked higher than his team, even the main character, so that says a lot about him. Or shall I say, he was tagged more. And if you look at the rankings 90% of the other characters on the list are from anime that are currently airing or being produced or recently ended, which, again, is to be expected. Which means that Naruto characters have withstood the test of time. Go Kishimoto! As the ranking said, to paraphrase “you all created a lot of polls, wrote a lot of fic, made a lot of art!” And talked a lot about these things!

Anyway, just wanted to shout it out.

[fuji-sen]

SAWuWa Headcanon pt. 3.ೃ࿔*:･

officially I shall be referring to the Self Aware Wuthering Waves au as SAWuWa, i saw someone use this tag so might as well for consistency 𖹭

Also asks are now open, I haven't set rules and guidelines, but if you have any requests please be about Wuthering Waves, I'm fixated on that, I'll try to accomodate other characters by researching them, I've only only been paying attention to Scar and Rover tbh-

anyways, as promised~

Rover-centric headcanons ⟡

angst edition!

ᯓ Now that we focused on scar, let's focus on the actual main character of wuthering waves!!

ᯓ Now everyone is certainly confused, enthusiastic, curious and in awe of the frequency that has been taking over the lands. But our Rover here isn't for the most part, especially at the beginning.

ᯓ sure you say the funniest, out of pocket and confusing things depending on what's happening, and your commentary brings some color to their life (if you're talkative) or how those clicky sounds bugs them or how the music in the background makes them hum along

butttt

ᯓ you were stuck in their head, at first, when they first woke up, disoriented, with no memories and in a place they didn't feel safe or familiar with! and then they stat hearing you! Any sane person would be totally afraid!

ᯓ When you first started to talk, they were wide-eyed and shock, base on your words, you could see what they could see, hear what they could!

ᯓ It was overwhelming, so much that they had to wonder if you were the true owner of this body, especially when they felt that someone was controlling their body. And when they first explained it to the people they first met (Yangyang and Chixia), they looked at them weirdly like they were a bit crazy, so they backtracked and joked a bit, saying it was probably just their imagination so they wouldn't leave them in the wilderness, alone.

ᯓ But now, now everyone in the world, even the TD can hear you through your frequency, and they weren't worried that they were a lunatic now since they could hear it too! but then people started to ask them "what do you hear?" "what are they saying?" "what kind of person are they?" they didn't think to ask them how they were feeling with having this voice in their head.

ᯓ Rover often felt more like a puppet, a tool, rather than their own person, it was bad enough having no memories, but now someone was sharing their (or maybe they weren't the owner of this body--???) body!

ᯓ and then there were that people that regarded them like an experiment! or something that they had to be cautious about, they were cautious of your voice, your frequency, and possible power, and since you were mainly attached to the Rover, their eyes turned to them.

ᯓ the students and professors at the school nearly experimented on them, interrogated them.

ᯓ and then there was Scar who was clearly stalking them to get to you

ᯓ have mercy on the Rover

ᯓ they are definitely praying that you get your own body in the future, preferably sooner than later.

Wrote and Edited on: May 25, 2024 🖌

No rewrites, no translations, no posting or copying the text and posting on here or any platforms please ( • ᴖ • ｡)

[jasmineandcedar]

Get a grip

An Elriel one shot (Azriel’s POV).

(jump down to “keep reading” if you want to go straight to the one shot - mind the tags)

I see adoration, connection, and beautiful consent in how SJM has written Elain and Azriel’s relationship. We see how they narratively lift each other as characters, just like Nessian and Feysand. Azriel is Elain’s choice - her breaking free of the stifling expectations that have plagued her. With Elain's encouragement, we see self-sacrificing Azriel finally rest and able to fight his feelings of being unworthy of touch and romantic love.

On top of how they care for each other, there is also mutual lust - in the most beautiful slow-burn of the ACOTAR series (if you ask me).

Whilst I will always have a weakness for Elriel's quiet and gentle love, here’s a celebration of the sometimes misunderstood aspects of their developing romance - lust and desire. Inspired by Azriel's bonus chapter, it's my attempt at depicting how Azriel’s racing thoughts and desire for Elain might manifest at night, when only the Mother might witness him. It's also a celebration of Elain and the desirable things about her. A light-hearted vindication of the shadowsinger and the seer - whose only crime seems to be desiring each other, both sexually and romantically. (I love me a forbidden romance! 🤭)

I shall let them.

Warning: smut (sexual fantasies, jerking off), angst

(This is my first attempt at writing something even remotely smutty. It’s all in good fun!).

I wrote this thinking of it as a continuation of my one shot Wingspan (you’ll find it here, but you don’t need to read it to read this one).

_______

Azriel arrived at the House of Wind with hot frustration pulsing through his normally icy veins. Shadows swirled at his feet as he ran a hand through his windswept hair, tucked in his wings, and entered the lower levels of the House. With Nesta and Cassian already fast asleep, he hurried through the corridors towards his room. His steps were guided by muscle memory alone, his thoughts racing with images of Elain.

Since fate had cruelly decided they couldn’t have each other, the thought of her would have to do—for now.

And it would do.

Thoughts of her fingers grazing his. The jolt that went through his body as their eyes met. Her golden-brown hair falling in waves like a silken waterfall down her back. How the chilly night air painted her cheeks and nose in a lovely shade of pink. The gentle care with which she nurtured life into being in every garden she touched.

It was curious—how a single memory of her could satiate him more than sharing shallow corporeal pleasures with another had ever been able to. He hadn't seen the point in any of that in a long time, couldn’t fathom why he ever had, now that he could steal glances from Elain Archeron, secretly brush his fingers against hers, or simply watch her be.

The ache in his chest was rivalled only by the ache in his pants. As it were, he could only do something about one of those aches tonight. He fully intended to. He would take advantage of that ache currently throbbing in his pants until he was a throbbing mess in his bed. It was the only hope he had of getting any sleep.

He entered his room, grateful for the solitude of the late hour. Locking the door behind him, he only managed a few strides inside before he fell back against the stone wall, spreading his wings along the cool and smooth surface for some relief. He let his shadows—the ones that weren’t already asleep—seal his room off from any unwanted attention.

Then, he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

His lips parted as his fingers drifted to his waist, tugging at his shirt to undo the fasteners of his pants. His fingers were cold from his flight, and he shuddered as they grazed the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen. He leaned his head back against the wall and let out another deep breath before he bit his lower lip. Hard.

He inhaled.

Thoughts of her flashed through his mind—her delicate fingers twirling the string of her apron, the way she swept strands of golden-brown behind her ear as she knelt in the garden.

He exhaled.

Fuck me, he thought behind closed eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall again, a little harder than necessary.  

Perhaps it was pathetic, the level of detail with which he had committed to memory even the most minute of encounters with her. He could live with that. Somehow, he didn’t mind it at all. Those minute encounters seemed to be what kept his heart pumping, after all. What he couldn’t live with was that raging ache that threatened to rip through his pants if he didn’t deal with it soon.

He groaned with relief as he finished unfastening his pants to grip his cock. He was painfully hard, to a degree only Elain Archeron could induce. He wrapped his fingers firmly around his length and let them glide over it.

"Elain Archeron," he sighed at the thought of her. To his shock, he heard himself almost giggle at the way her name slipped from his lips.

Then, because no one was there to witness the fearsome Spymaster, he whispered her name into the night one more time, as if to taste it. Despite his misery, he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it. It was sweet like honey, the way her name took shape on his tongue—just like her gentle soul, which seemed to understand both the words he spoke and didn’t speak.

His grip around his cock tightened, hand wrapping around it much in the same way he was wrapped around Elain’s finger.

His heart had belonged to her and her alone since she had given him that headache powder—when she had made him feel genuine happiness for the first time since he didn’t know when. It had been hers since she chose to spend her first Solstice night with him, of all people, sharing her dreams for the gardens. Her eyes of molten chocolate had lit up and he had looked at her in awe, undisturbed, until dawn. He wasn’t even sure if he had blinked; he hadn't wanted to miss a single second of her elation. That night, she had taught him what joy felt like, and it had stunned him.

He wanted desperately to return to that night. To be able to look into her warm brown eyes without suspicion or accusation from anyone over what his heart desired. He wanted to go back and give her his heart again, just to make sure she knew it was hers.

But perhaps she had already wrapped his heart in her soft hands when she looked upon his brutalized ones and breathed the last word he would ever have associated with himself, regardless of how many times others spoke it of him.

Beautiful, she had breathed.

And he had believed her.

Yes, he was hers already.

The things he would do to not just be hers, but to call her mine.

The thought of it had him tightening his grip on his cock. Slowly and firmly, he let his fingers glide from the base of his length and stop just below the head. The pleasure of it all was excruciating. He had always thought the line between pleasure and pain was a rather fine one, a proclivity he now reaped the benefits of.

He groaned, his breathing growing heavier. He wanted desperately to bring himself over the edge, but he wasn’t done yet. Rolling his head back, he focused, exhaling deeply and feeling the muscles of his core contract. Then the ache in his chest mirrored the ache he gripped between his fingers as he stroked himself again, even harder, for good measure. He felt his body twitch at the impact.

That’s it, he thought to himself as he got himself closer to that blissful edge and forced himself to hover in that space where pleasure and pain intermingled.

If she would let him, he would grab hold of her and never let go. Yes. If she wanted it, he would hold onto her.

Hard.

With both hands.

From behind.

And fuck her slowly.

The thought alone nearly pushed him over the edge. That wouldn’t do—he wasn’t ready for this to end just yet. He shook his head, relaxed his grip on himself and let out another trembling breath.

What he could do to her from behind, though, should she want it… He would wrap those golden-brown waves around his fist like a belt and pull her up against him. He would tilt her beautiful face the way he wanted it—the way they both wanted it—just like he had done that second Solstice night, giving him perfect access to her lovely neck.

That neck of hers. He sighed desperately at the image that flashed before him. Of course, Elain had to have the most delectable neck in all of Prythian.

Unable to hold back, his grip around his length tightened again as he clenched his jaw, held his breath, and stroked himself fiercely to the thought of it.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

He let out his breath and forced himself to loosene his grip again.

That second Solstice night was etched on his mind like the tattoos etched on his upper body. He had been the luckiest bastard in all the realms combined when she had allowed his fingers to taint the velvety skin of her neck. No—when she had urged him to stroke the velvety skin of her neck, with the way she had leaned into him.

He groaned, his hand tightening reflexively at the memory, the implication of her actions that  night almost bringing him to completion once again.

She had wanted it. Wanted him. He knew that now. And that small, precious truth was enough for him to keep battling those demons that told him otherwise.

“Get it together,” he panted, the muscles in his upper body once again contracting with each ragged breath. He resorted to dazedly letting his fingers glide in long motions along his length as he indulged in the memory of her.

It was a fruitless endeavour. He knew he would be frantically stroking himself again in a few moments anyway.

He was insatiable. And she was too lovely.

That neck.

He had let his thumb draw lazy circles on that flawless neck. No—there had been nothing lazy about it. His focus on her that night had been sharper than any duty had ever commanded his attention. And when that sweet, intoxicating scent of her arousal had reached his nostrils, he had almost fallen to his knees. An unusual urge almost anything Elain did seemed to inspire in him.

Azriel wasn’t one to kneel before anything or anyone. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had done it once—that one time he had knelt before Elain when he rescued her from those Hybern scum. She was the exception to that rule.

No, kneeling before Elain was the rule.

He’d live his life by that rule if she would let him.

She could hold his gaze with those beautiful eyes that looked upon this miserable world with such fierce hope, and it was like a kick to the back of his knees. He would be on the floor begging already if he only let go of what was left of that restraint he hung onto for dear life whenever she was around.

Eyes closed, his shirt clinging to his hot skin, he leaned heavily against the wall and tilted his head to the side. His racing thoughts drifted back to her—to those soft waves of golden brown that would wrap so perfectly around his fist. The cool touch of the stone wall against his wings added to the sensation as he rolled his hips, letting his cock glide through his tight grip with slow, hard thrusts—just like he would fuck her if they ever got the chance.

How many thrusts would it take before she collapsed in his arms? He chuckled, low and dark. It didn’t matter much. As if one time would ever be enough. Since he was apparently known for being such a cruel bastard, he would show her all the ways he could make her come until it was her turn to beg for mercy. He smiled at the thought before he felt that sting in his chest return.

Skin to skin—that was where they belonged. Breathing the same air. With his hand tangled in her soft curls, he’d whisper praise in her ear, shower her soft skin with the equally soft kisses she deserved, her back pressed against his chest as he made love to her. He had a feeling she would like that just as much as he would. Maybe she would even treat him to a moan. The mere thought of her moans was like a fist around his cock.

He could certainly make her moan.

Oh, the ways in which he could make Elain moan. Perhaps he would even make a quest of it.

With his tongue, that’s how he would start. Her inner thigh. And, Mother save him, when he got between those inner thighs…

When he had Elain coming on his tongue.

When she wrapped those thighs around his face as he had her coming on his tongue.

He almost sobbed at the thought of it, fisting his cock ferociously, grip rough and brows furrowed as all thoughts of restraint shattered.

“Fuck it,” he panted.

Every muscle in his body tensed as he as he came with her name on his lips, his skin overheated and body quivering. His head tipped back against the wall, pleasure pulsing through him like the tremor that had rippled through his veins when she met his gaze earlier tonight. His lips parted and a low moan, followed by a string of curses, spilled out of him.

A few moments passed as he caught his breath, dazedly stroking himself through the last waves of pleasure before he finally opened his eyes. He looked around the room lazily. Then, realization dawned on him. He swore again, low and dirty, at the mess he had made.

His eyes fell upon the headache powder at his bedside table. Unused, as it would remain. He felt that familiar sting in his chest at the sight of it. He was left only with the empty feeling of her absence—unsure of how emptiness could feel so substantial. His chest tightened again at his own misery where he stood alone, his cock still in his hand, staring at the soiled floor.

“Pathetic,” he muttered at the thought of himself. He hadn’t even made it to the bed. That must be a new record. He would have to get that under control, should he ever get to spend a night with Elain.

He sighed deeply, turrning to look out the window across the room at the pitch-black tapestry that was the night sky. Just as the realization of his own misery had dawned on him, dawn would be emerging in a few hours, spreading soft pastels across the night sky. It reminded him of her—like everything seemed to do these days.

He thought of that dusty pink gown she often wore, the one that made her soft skin appear even softer. As if that were even possible. He wanted to rest his head against that softness and fall asleep.

Azriel had never yearned for arms to hold him. Not until Elain.

Something burned behind his eyelids. He knew it would crush him to dwell on it.

“Get a fucking grip,” he muttered to himself, even as his hand returned to once again grip his hardening length.

It would be a long night.

(I just want them to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Is that too much to ask? 😭)

[theshadowsingersraven]

this nyxlin drama lowkey reminds me of the time a zutara artist was run off tumblr because they drew aged up katara/zuko romantically, but I think it was actually angry kataang’s or e/riel’s -because they also drew gwynriel and e/riel’s were jealous- who were stirring up shit 😭

That would honestly make a lot of sense for how/why I didn't see many posts from them or overall in the Nyxlin tag when I was catching up on what happened. Pretty much every person (notably largely Elriels) who supported Elain Week's censorship got an insta-block from me if they weren't already. And I'm sure a decent amount of people blocked me from my stance on Elaingate, Rhys Week, and Nyxlin Week.

And good! You should block me. Seriously. Art has the right to be celebrated and appreciated, especially in the circumstances designed to do that for a specific character and dynamic! Character appreciation and celebration will never look the same to everyone, and just because it's not what you enjoy doesn't mean it stops being appreciative or celebratory. If you can't grasp that, you don't deserve access to my art anyway. You certainly don't deserve to be in my space, that's for damn sure. Kindly, get out.

Honestly, it kind of makes sense considering the overlap of canon rigidity, purity culture, and morality policing of fiction coming from sides of the fandom that generally can't accept criticism about their faves, or even things that go against what they want for their faves. They are terrified of creativity that doesn't give them what they want and it shows. It's the most Evangelical-ass shit ever, and it's fucking weird.

Like...for all intents and purposes, Nyx is an OC in any works that feature him. And I'd know, because I wrote an adult Nyx for my ongoing ACOTAR D&D campaign set 20 years after ACOSF. So yes, Nyx is twenty in my timeline, because it's writing and I can do what I want lol. I have no basis to write Nyx off of other than Rhys and Feyre. Which means...I'm still doing my own character-building to only less than I would for a completely new OC.

Let's compare, shall we?

Writing my OC Solara's backstory: Writing her parents from scratch ✔️ Writing her early childhood ✔️ Writing her trauma ✔️ Writing her adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing her interests and adventures as she became an adult✔️ Writing her dynamic with her love interest and how she interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

Now obviously these are all at minimum influenced by/will be derivative of aspects of ACOTAR because, y'know, transformative works. But still, I made her.

Writing Nyx's backstory and how he is as a twenty-year-old adult: Writing his parents from scratch ❌ Writing his early childhood ✔️ Writing any trauma he might have ✔️ Writing his adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing his interests and adventures as he became an adult ✔️ Writing his dynamic (collaboratively) with his love interest and how he interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

And this is a version of Nyx that I made. Yes, it's still influenced by canon, but if I put in 90% of the same effort to write him as an adult as I did a complete OC, we can acknowledge they're functionally the same.

It's not that people look at Baby!Nyx and instantly think he's perfect to be shipped with someone and there's something to be gleaned from canon about him in particular. We know nothing about Nyx as an individual. That applies to any Nyx ship.

The appeal, at least in my experience, to Nyx ships, including Nyxlin, is the dynamics at play around Nyx, i.e., his role as an eventual leader and powerful figure in the Night Court, the dynamics that affect Rhys and Feyre also extending to him, how the rest of Prythian/Illyria might view the first offspring of High Fae, Illyrian, and Made parents. It's about his circumstances, not him as a character because he is not a "character yet", he just exists!

People are just creative enough to consider those long-term effects on who he could become and how that interplays with other characters. I don't mean to be cruel, but genuinely, have these people never created an OC before? Have they never shipped anything outside of canon? Have they never read any fics featuring time travel, for example, as a plot point to get characters in the same era at the same time when otherwise the ship would not be able to happen? Are they that unfamiliar with making circumstances outside of SJM's canon to allow things to happen for fun?

Genuinely, the lack of creativity for all of us being in this for reading and writing is concerning.

Even just saying this and advocating for Nyxlin's right to be celebrated as well as Tamlin as a whole pretty much puts me in the position of having to tag this as pro-Tamlin. And I wouldn't even describe myself as anything other than Pro-Azriel and probably Pro-Nesta and Pro-Elain because I don't really dislike any characters. I'm equally as critical to all of them and if their good parts just sort of cancel out the bad or are only a bit outweighing one or the other...I don't actively dislike them, I'm just neutral about them.

But this fandom is so fucking polarized because of the toxicity and the Us v.s. Them, Morality Policing culture that's been festering, people can't even neutrally address something. People are harassed so quickly just for not understanding or being familiar with something, and then in the other court people do the harassing because they don't understand or aren't familiar with something the other party likes/dislikes. If don't utterly despise Tamlin, it's somehow considered supportive enough to qualify as "pro" to antis.

Too many people in this fanbase create this parasocial-adjacent attachment to these characters like they're real and have real feelings/boundaries that need to be protected. They are not! Characters can't be hurt by anything happening outside the narrative. Just because you personally do not like something/don't find it appealing or even find it discomforting does not mean it's morally objectionable. It's just not for you, and understanding that experiencing content not made for you is not an attack on you is kind of a necessary life skill.

This rant ended up way longer than I expected it to be, but anyway...y'all stay safe out there.

[chthonic-cassandra]

what vampire musicals are there? asking bc of the tag meme you posted a few days(?) ago where you said it was pretty accurate aside from no vampire musicals... i know wildhorn dracula, but what else? (and which are good?)

Thank you for asking a question which allows me to indulge myself by recounting all this. The question of "good," however, is rather fraught, and I ask everyone to remember that these opinions are just my own.

The (probably) first, and the only one to achieve significant success, was Jim Steinman's Tanz der Vampire/Dance of the Vampires, first stage in 1997. Tanz was an adaptation of Roman Polanski's comedic vampire movie The Fearless Vampire Killers, and features "Total Eclipse of the Heart," a song Steinman always intended to be about vampires. Tonally, the musical veers wildly between the broad comedy of the source film and something approaching sincerity and the comedy sections have never really worked for me, but it's certainly the most musically sophisticated of the vampire musicals and at its best, like in the major ballad sung by the lead vampire character about the loves he has killed (here sung by original cast Steve Barton, and here by Drew Sarich, who is in all the major vampire musicals and who we shall have more to say about anon) it's spectacular gothy camp glory.

Tanz was incredibly popular in Austria, where it was first staged, and then throughout Europe and in Japan. However, when it was brought to Broadway it was drastically rewritten, partly at the behest of Michael Crawford, starring in the show and anxious about changes in his body and being compared to his career-making performance in Phantom of the Opera. The comedy was foregrounded and the show was constantly being rewritten, to the point that the actors didn't know how their parts might change performance to performance. I didn't see the Broadway production, but it is accounted by all to be a colossal failure. The show remains popular worldwide to this day, but has not received another major staging in North America.

Next comes the Frank Wildhorn Dracula the Muiscal, which I know you know about, but as it is vital to this narrative I must give some explanation. Wildhorn is a sort of mid-tier musical theater composer, known for melodrama and period pieces. After the popular (though not critical) success of his Jekyll & Hyde musical (1997 on Broadway) he co-wrote Dracula with lyricist Don Black, premiering on Broadway on 2004.

While I maintain that Dracula the Musical has been unjustly maligned by comparison with some other works of musical theater, it is admittedly a mess, and the Broadway production, which was, despite highly publicized special effects, shockingly static, did it no favors. It tries to do far too many things, combining sections of relatively close novel adaptation (Christopher Hampton's book is often quietly strong) with a messily shoehorned Dracula/Mina romance. The score is variable, ranging, even just in Dracula's material, from the rousing "Life After Life" as Dracula welcomes the transformed Lucy, to his cringe-inducing "The Longer I Live". (I still think almost all of the music and lyrics are better than those of Les Miserables but then again I think most things are better than the Les Miserables musical.) The Broadway production had a reasonably strong cast, including Melissa Errico as Mina and Kelli O'Hara as Lucy, but it failed nearly as badly as the American version of Tanz had, if not quite so dramatically.

Wildhorn subsequently brought DtM to Europe, where it enjoyed significantly more success, first in a stripped down modern production in St. Gallen starring Drew Sarich and then in Vienna where the role of Van Helsing was expanded for popular star Uwe Kröger. It's continued to be performed in Europe and Asia, and in some USA community theaters.

Next up was Elton John's Lestat in 2007. One would expect that this musical would have been wonderfully over-the-top glam rock, but somehow Lestat ended up being one of the most staid things I have ever seen. Filled with forgettable music (even if we all do want to see Sam Reid and Jacob Anderson doing "Embrace It". It was further brought down by a lackluster performance of the title character by Hugh Panaro, previously known for his mediocre (sorry Panaro fans!) turn in Phantom. It was enlivened slightly by Carolee Carmello as Gabrielle earning one of the show's only Tony nominations and Drew Sarich (there he is again!) playing a decidedly not book accurate but very entertaining Armand. It also involved a Buddhist monk Marius de Romanus, but I constantly question whether this was a fever dream of mine. Lestat was yet another failure on Broadway and, as far as I can tell, has had no real subsequent afterlife, though I've been wondering if that might change with the IwtV show (and Sam Reid's evident enjoyment of the musical!).

Those are the major vampire musicals, for what they are! But there are also some others which never got even this level of attention, including:

Two dueling French-language Dracula musicals with almost the exact same name, Dracula - L'amour plus fort que la mort and Dracula - Entre l'amour et la mort

A Nosferatu musical which is a strong contender for the worst lyrics I have ever heard but also entertains me

another mysterious Dracula musical made in the UK with songs of wildly varying qualities, but containing the only Mina hero ballad with which I am familiar

There are also edge cases like Bat Boy and Rocky Horror Picture Show, which I would not call vampire musicals but someone else might.

Anyway! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to share some of the truly disproportionate amount of information I have about this topic in my head. I hope this brought some entertainment.

[melisnonstop]

𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂

↳ 📱𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚞 (1/)

TikTok video – Henry analyzes Brideshead Revisited

@SonnetAndSpice

(Henry appears on screen, seated in his usual cozy, softly lit corner, surrounded by bookshelves and a warm lamp. He’s cradling a cup of tea in his hands, and a slight, almost bashful smile touches his lips before he begins speaking)

Henry

"Right, hello again, everyone. Lovely to have you back on Pages from the Past.

Votes were cast and today, we’ll be diving into Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited, a novel that’s as much about memory and nostalgia as it is about love—though not always in the ways you might expect.

(He lifts the book, lightly tapping the cover with his fingers, his expression thoughtful)

Henry

"Now, I’m aware Brideshead can be a bit... shall we say, contentious? Some readers find it utterly brilliant, while others think it’s a bit of a slog.

(He adjusts his position slightly, settling deeper into the chair, his tone warm and conversational)

Henry

"The story centres around Charles Ryder, who’s looking back on his life—particularly on his very close, rather complicated relationship with Sebastian Flyte.

“Now, here’s where things get interesting. Their relationship isn’t explicitly romantic, but there’s a depth to it, a profound intimacy that’s impossible to ignore."

(He leans in slightly, as if sharing something important, his tone gentle but assured)

Henry

"And bear in mind, Waugh wrote this in 1945. Back then, any kind of open depiction of queerness was, well, more or less impossible in mainstream literature.

“So Waugh uses subtext. He builds this beautiful tension between Charles and Sebastian—glances that linger just a fraction too long, silences heavy with things unsaid. It’s all so... understated, yet powerful."

(He pauses, letting the thought settle, a small, knowing smile on his face)

Henry

"It’s that subtlety I think people miss sometimes. It’s not about what’s on the surface, but what’s simmering underneath. And that’s where the real magic of the book lies."

(He shifts again, straightening slightly as he moves on to the novel’s setting)

Henry

"And then there’s Brideshead itself—the grand, crumbling estate that’s as much a character as any of the people in the story.

“It represents an England on the brink of change, a world that’s beginning to slip away.”

(Henry’s eyes brighten as he talks about the historical context, clearly passionate)

Henry

“The novel itself was written just after the Second World War, at a time when the British aristocracy was losing its footing. Waugh does this marvellous job of blending nostalgia with criticism.

“You can sense his own ambivalence—how he both romanticizes and criticizes the world he’s writing about.”

(He takes a slow sip of his tea, exuding a calm confidence, before continuing)

Henry

"But truly, what I love most is how relevant the themes still feel today—especially in a world where love and identity are often still met with resistance.

“It’s about love, identity, and that ache we all sometimes feel—for something, or someone, that’s just out of reach. There’s a universality to it.”

(He smiles, softer now, his voice lowering slightly as he reaches the end)

Henry

"So, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Do you think Charles and Sebastian were in love? Do you see yourself in the story? Let me know in the comments, and don’t forget to tag me in your own reviews. I’m really curious to see what Brideshead means to each of you."

(He glances at the camera, his expression warm and sincere)

Henry

"Until next time—happy reading, and cheers."

(He gives a small, elegant salute.)

↳ 📱

TikTok Stitch – Alex’s Response to Henry’s Video on Brideshead Revisited

@acd.chronicles

(The video opens with Alex walking around his apartment, his NYU hoodie slightly rumpled, sleeves pushed up. He passes through the kitchen, the faint clatter of a coffee mug in the background, but the focus remains clearly on him)

Alex

"Okay, I’ve seen this video pop up a few times now, and I guess it’s time I chime in.


“Look, I get it—classic British lit, sweeping descriptions of old estates, all that jazz. But honestly, can we take a second to ask why we’re still putting these stories on a pedestal in 2024?

"Here’s my issue: it’s another story told through the lens of a privileged white guy, living in a crumbling mansion, having existential crises over, what, the loss of aristocratic power? The whole thing feels... outdated."

(He raises his hands in a ‘hear me out’ gesture)

Alex

"And before anyone comes at me for hating on the classics, it’s not about that. It’s about asking why these particular stories are still being prioritized in conversations about ‘great literature.’

“How many more books do we need that center on upper-class, white dudes reflecting on their lives of wealth and privilege, while we overlook stories by authors of color, queer voices, or people who don’t come from this very specific background?"

(He leans back slightly, crossing his arms, still keeping his tone respectful but firm)

Alex

"And here’s the thing—when we keep pushing these same narratives, we’re reinforcing the idea that these are the stories that matter. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather see BookTok blow up with books that highlight different perspectives.

“Give me more stories by authors of color, more queer writers who are upfront about their themes instead of burying them under layers of subtext from a time when you couldn’t even say the word ‘gay.’"

(He gives a small, almost apologetic smile, as if knowing he’s ruffled some feathers)

Alex

"I mean, I’m not saying the book’s trash or anything and I’m not saying this creator’s take is wrong—I get that he’s coming from a place of love for the book, and that’s cool.

“But for me, personally? I’m not gonna keep pretending like these old-school narratives are the best we’ve got, especially when there’s so much else out there that’s more relevant to what a lot of us are actually going through today."

(He sighs, looking directly into the camera, sincerity in his eyes)

Alex

"So yeah, that’s where I’m at. If Brideshead resonates with you, awesome, no shade at all. But if you’re like me, and you’re over these stories about rich white men lamenting their lost world, maybe it’s time we put these ‘classics’ on the shelf and made room for something new. Just a thought."

(He gives a small, knowing nod)

[outofangband]

do you have any ocs?

anon this is from like a year ago I'm so sorry

Also sorry because anything I wrote a year ago is potentially different from later headcanons

I actually have dozens!

I'll tell you about one, the one I have probably the most about at the moment, her name is Rhea and she is another slave in Brodda's house. She first appeared in my fic with slander for a blade where she offered Aerin some not very helpful words of shall we say, advice? ANd she has some scattered appearances in fics and world building

Unfortunately she does not have a proper tag

Warning for discussion of slavery, abuse and victim blaming because well, if you’ve read anything that Rhea is in…yeah

Stole my own character introduction from an earlier post but basically Rhea is an older slave tasked with caring for Aerin in a handmaid adjacent role but more importantly is tasked with keeping her in line and teaching her Brodda’s expectations (including well, sexually) She’s given her genuinely helpful (if often unpleasant) advice that’s made Aerin’s life if not better, at least occasionally easier. I wrote here about how much knowledge and anticipation of Brodda’s expectations, preferences and so on Aerin has to learn for her own safety (and the psychological cost of that knowledge). Most of this is due to Aerin’s own skills but some of it was taught by Rhea

Rhea comforts her when she's hurt, bandages and cleans her wounds, occasionally gives her something for pain but also tells her that she should have been more obedient, that this punishment was justified. She believes very firmly in these rules she tries to ensure others follow.

Rhea has some amount of control over how Aerin dresses, where she is at any given time, and how she spends her time. Especially in the beginning, she’s very much expected to act as a handler or caretaker when Brodda isn’t interested in requiring Aerin to be at his side.

Especially in the beginning, this often includes telling on her.

As you can imagine they have quite a contentious relationship. Aerin has pity for Rhea and later something resembling fondness but also is acutely aware that Rhea’s loyalty is to Brodda, even if this loyalty is the result of decades of abuse

Rhea is what Aerin does not want to become and Aerin hates that these worries even cross her mind.

Fun facts about Rhea

-The ea in her name is pronounced similarly to the ae in Aerin, but lighter

-She’s of the eastern Drúedain and was brought to western Beleriand a year or so before the Nírnaeth

-She fucking hates Morwen. No she’s never met her*

-She likes sheep.

-She cannot read beyond a couple of words. She doesn’t remember her life from before she was a slave

*I have a little au fic where Morwen is imprisoned from Rhea’s point of view as well as one more generally about Rhea’s fear of her (I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately)

Thank you to @maglors-anion-gap for appreciating her

[tiredly101]

Part 2: What if Howdy's place was Eddie, Frank or Barnaby becoming aware of his world and breaking the 4th wall and falling in love with the human reader? What would be the consequences of that?

https://www.tumblr.com/tiredly101/716865417279389697/i-had-this-in-my-head-all-day-what-would-be-a?source=share

Oh my! I love this Anon! And of course I shall write for Eddie since you wrote him first but if you ask for it later on I will write Frank and Barnaby!

Oh dear because you are perfect

Pairing: Aware!Eddie Dear x Human!Gender neutral reader

Howdy Pillar, Barnaby Beagle, Frank Frankly, Julie Joyful, Sally Starlet, All of them, Howdy's ending, Eddie and Frank, Eddie's ending, Frank’s ending, Wally's ending, Barnaby’s ending,

Aware Eddie illustrated Au, couldn't find a lovesick/crazy-ish drawing of Eddie but I found the picture picture below that was done by @eechytooru

It all started with a special delivery to Howdy's, Eddie's last delivery, a Tv to be precise, it was supposed to be Howdy's and Howdy was supposed to gift it to Wally since he was supposed to walk in just when he was going to get rid of it but he didn't and Eddie was the only there so Howdy decided to gift the mailman the Tv as a 'thank you for all you do in this neighborhood'

To say Eddie was grateful was an understatement but he gladly kept the Tv, connected it in his place as soon as he got home since Howdy was his last delivery of the next two days. "A well earned break" he would think to himself while turning on his brand new Tv

Such a simple thing would show him the 'real world', the human world; the world that he belongs in

His head was splitting because of the new information but then his eyes focused on a face, your face. You were so pretty, so human that it made his pain instantly go away

Eddie was clumsy and forgetful bit he picked instantly what the Tv was telling him, you were ment to be his remedy, the solution to his pain, his cure because you were perfect and perfect is what Welcome Home wants which means you should be there with him, right?

He takes his time stalking admiring you, making sure he knows every single detail about you, every weakness you held, every action that could make you smile or laugh... God, he loved your laugh, so soft yet laud, so perfect...

Eddie takes his time analyzing you, finding the right moment where you were at your lowest before you even know it to snatch you up, to bring you home but you had to ask such simple words after crying in his shoulder

"Oh dear because you are perfect"

Hope you liked it Anon! Let me know if you want to write the other two character you suggested!

Additional tag: @waywardstardustcollector

[redroomroaving]

Blorbo of the year, 2024

Thank you for the tag @lemonsrosesandlavender, this is a super fun idea! I'll do my best.

I'll put some no pressure tags for @lizziemajestic @captainsigge @librivore42 and @tickitytockityrattityrottity and anyone else who wants to do this.

So, the thing is that people who know me know how many beloved blorbos I have. I've written 20+ microblorbos over about 570k words this year, and love countless more still. But my real answer was immediate, so, time for honesty.

My blorbo of the year: Donnick

I've spoken a little before about Donnick and my fic Sufferer, I Shall, and how much it means to me. Something I absolutely would not have predicted when I started it on the basis that I wanted to explore the rivalry between Loviatar and Ilmater through a pairing I thought could be a fun and interesting contrast.

Instead, thanks to Donnick, I found myself exploring and understanding my relationship with purpose and practice, with my chronic pain, the purpose to be found in suffering and what it is that makes me get up every day. I wrote a thing that I'm genuinely proud of and explored a mind that is as fascinating and deep as a particularly well made soup. Donnick is a joy to write, and has taken up residence in my mind in a way no other blorbo or character ever really has before. It is difficult to explain quite how much this character ended up meaning to me, but if I can't gush about him here and now in this, well, when can I? Thank you, fed up, sarcastic, wonderful soup monk. I promise I'll get you the happy ending with your soulmate you deserve.

The runners up: Geraldus and Klaus

Choosing one of the Rivington 3 was excruciating, btw; my trio of besties who I slowly drew together over the course of the year across my fics to fill Geraldus' life with friends and support.

Geraldus has been my most consistent muse throughout the year, he compelled me to write an 150k longfic romance I just finished last week, and I've so much more yet to write for him. The Bravest Man in Baldurs Gate has brought me a whole community of incredible friends and creators I never would have expected to find. I cannot tell you how hard it was to put him in second place. I can't wait to write more for the best Harper in 2025.

Klaus, my narrative can-opener and muse, has been a huge surprise. I just needed a guy for a circus scene and now here we are months later and he's so much more. Klaus consistently pushes me to do more; add more colour, more movement, to go bigger and bolder. He's a wonderful character, I hope more people come to write him and find that out too.

New OCs for 2024

So most people will know I don't have a lot of these; but, I do have someone who showed up very unexpectedly in Conductor Ringmaster so let's give her a shout out.

Estrella Redtooth - Night Hag, menace

Showing up as a fortune teller when the circus hit the feywild and immediately developing an infuriating little tug of war with Klaus, Estrella was a blast to write whenever she appeared.

Let's hope we see that tricksome fey again.

Red's bonus category: last minute scene stealer: Harper Bor

Arriving in November, a full year after the game took over my life and I found Geraldus, I found Bor.

In the 2 and a bit months since, I have entirely lost my mind over Bor and his adorable relationship with the tiefling kiddo Mirkon, his massive lumberjack axe and a Harper on Harper romance with Geraldus. This is the shape of my 2025, and I look forward to seeing him up in the top categories next year.

That is if I haven't fallen even more in love with like, Ethel's Door.

Honourable shout outs to the following blorbs:

Abdirak, Jaheira, Kar'niss, Rolan, He Who Was, Lae'zel, Halsin, Ethel's Door, Viola Silvertongue, Waiter Jaymes (and his beloved Sküna!), Tecothy, Moy, Olly, Lia, Professor Limeleech, Cal, Sorn and everyone else I've written this year.

Not you, Nere and Dhourn. Not you.

[bloody-wonder]

mid-year book tag

1. Best Book You’ve Read So Far in 2024? i have read so many good ones this year but no particular one stands out to me as The Best so i'll name top 5 instead (in the order i read them in): a thousand stitches, doctrine of labyrinths, in other lands, big swiss, my brilliant friend - so, quite a range of genres and tones, as usual :)

2. Best Sequel You’ve Read So Far in 2024? the virtu is definitely my favorite part of doctrine of labyrinths and the tropic of serpents, the second book in the memoirs of lady trent, was just a perfect historical fantasy adventure novel - it's like if jane austen wrote indiana jones except it's also a nature documentary about dragons. last but not least, empire of the damned which came out in march solidified jay kristoff's empire of the vampire as my favorite vampire book series. you might have heard me screaming about it from the rooftops. all three of these sequels, i find, are even better than the previous book in their respective series.

3. New Release You Haven’t Read Yet, But Want To? i'm saving kj charles' death in the spires for the fall since it's a spooky campus murder mystery (i think?) and i also want to read apostles of mercy and so finish lindsay ellis' sci fi series (which i have lost interest in somewhat tbh but i'm nothing if not a completionist lol). i was curious about the familiar but the reviews i've seen don't look too promising so i'm probably not going to prioritize it.

4. Most Anticipated Release For Second Half of 2024? i'm looking forward to kj charles' new romance book, the duke at hazard, as well as the new evander mills mystery, rough pages, but the piece of fiction i'm anticipating the most is actually the radioapple southern gothic au by my favorite fanfic author reminiscentbells. she's going to write the whole thing this summer and start posting in september - i'm so excitedddd😱

5. Biggest Disappointment? emily wilde's encyclopaedia of faeries is the book equivalent of a ghoul wearing the skin of your beloved. i wasn't a fan of a deadly education either😒 was very excited to read gaywyck but the expectations of "jane eyre but gay" which the cover of that book gave me were unfortunately not met🤷‍♀️

6. Biggest Surprise? i didn't think i might be into extreme horror and neither did i fancy myself a sally rooney girlie so i was quite surprised that i liked her conversations with friends as well as the sluts by dennis cooper. will definitely read more from both authors next year. an even bigger surprise however was solitaire which i picked up on a whim after tori came out as ace in the last heartstopper volume. i have a complicated relationship with alice oseman's books mostly due to the fact that i'm years past the target demographic age but still feel compelled to read them bc it seems they're the only mainstream books with prominent aro/ace rep out there. so i didn't expect much and was astonished to discover that tori spring is like looking at a mirror reflection of my 18yo self - uncanny in a fun way. ig i shouldn't be so surprised this turned out to be my favorite oseman book since it's the one with the most mixed reviews lol people like to hate a depressed teenage girl😬

7. Favorite New Author? i have devoured doctrine of labyrinths and the cemeteries of amalo in february so now i can safely say sarah monette aka katherine addison is one of my favorite authors. each of her series has a different tone but there are consistent themes of real or magical disability and non amatonormative relationships which are explored in creative ways throughout her stories. i also like her worldbuilding quite a bit, especially the naming systems and fantasy terminology. i read more books by celeste ng as well as by vale aida - both are likely to become favorite authors too. in the latter's case - provided she writes a sequel to hostis. if not, i shall never forgive her😅

8. Newest Favorite Character? okay this is just impossible to narrow down! first of all, liathe from empire of the damned bc i want her Gender: wearing a porcelain mask and a splendid crimson coat, formally bowing to her adversaries before she beats the shit out of them with her blood sword, referring to herself by the royal we and hissing every time she speaks - character of all time material right there. behold my beautiful girl who has done nothing wrong!🥰

(official illustrations by bon orthwick)

secondly, elliot schafer bc he's the most obnoxious prickly boy in other lands and yet everyone wants him carnally lol. i adore his internal monologue - probably the best i've read in ya. his dialogue too tbh - his cutting repartee game is off the charts. honestly, he's just my favorite type of character: a mean bisexual gremlin who scolds people so creatively that they fall in love with him on the spot. what more can you ask.

finally, i have to mention that to my great surprise i liked mildmay more than felix harrowgate🤯 idk felix is this cunty traumatized savant which is a character archetype i'm used to liking so it was a safe bet. the opposites attract sidekick or love interest of such a character is usually not my cup of tea but mildmay is the exception that proves the rule ig. mostly it's bc of his unusual manner of speaking with those funny slang turns of phrase and just generally the contrast between his expressive internal monologue and his reserved demeanor. as a result, he easily rivals felix as the most interesting guy in the book. such excellent character work! taking my hat off to monette🎩

9. Newest Fictional Crush? i reserve this question for that special kind of obsession only a very particular character can inspire and this year it's alastor from hazbin hotel. which, i know, is not a book but i have read so much alastor fanfic in the last few months that he's basically like a book character to me at this point lol

💕Best Ship💕 elliot schafer and luke sunborn are very cute. i don't usually go for cute but here we are. especially after reading that short story from luke's pov i realized i just need more of these two together😌 felix and mildmay with their unholy magic bdsm union - need i say more? forbidden ship that watered my crops. last but not least, i'm currently trudging through the realm of the elderings bc of fitz and the fool and as of assassin's quest it finally started paying off: i'm being queerbaited and asking for more🥲

10. Book That Made You Cry? a thousand stitches is such a wholesome cozy book and it made me cry multiple times the way that a nostalgic movie from childhood can make you cry sometimes. especially the pug scene😭 the scenes of thara celehar walking the corn maze in the cemeteries of amalo made me cry a lot too. the symbolic depths addison is able to achieve with the labyrinth motif, the exploration of grief and forgiveness and letting go - unparalleled🤌

11. Book That Made You Happy? a thousand stitches made me happy! especially the pug scene!!😅 honestly it was like watching a disney movie back when they were good except also more relatable bc atwater's characters read neurodivergent and aspec-coded to me. love how she maintains that the kiss of true love that breaks the faerie curse doesn't have to be romantic. re-reading the three musketeers made me very happy too - it's one of my top 10 favorite books of all time and i was kinda nervous i might not like it as much as an adult. well the joke's on me bc now i can confirm it's one of the best books ever written😊 reading in other lands and big swiss cheered me up a lot too bc they're just so damn funney😄

12. Favorite Book Adaptation You Saw This Year? haven't seen a lot of adaptations so ig dune part two wins by default. twas a fine movie. the wheel of time is also a nice show in my opinion but i didn't read the source material so idk how good it is adaptation-wise🤷‍♀️

13. Favorite Review You’ve Written This Year? my favorite ones are probably the ones i wrote about the three musketeers and in other lands but i think i also wrote some good critical/negative reviews of the mask of mirrors and of the vorkosigan books i read this year (1 2 3)

14. Most Beautiful Cover? behold the cover of the voyage of the basilisk!🤩 i want to frame it and hang it on my wall so that i can gaze at it adoringly and connect with my inner ishmael

(art by todd lockwood)

i also like this vintage romance cover of gaywyck and the uk covers of the farseer trilogy. it's a shame that the books are not as good as the covers led me to believe. especially in the case of gaywyck - this cover is Such A Vibe! but alas

15. What Books Do You Need To Read By The End of The Year? in terms of series i want to finish the memoirs of lady trent, read one more witcher book, at least a couple vampire chronicles and then reread swordspoint and hopefully complete that series too. other fantasy i want to get to at last is fire & blood and the hands of the emperor - both are big and intimidating tho. for my classics challenge i need to finish a couple of tomes i'm reading slowly throughout the year and then also read the name of the rose. american psycho and mona awad's bunny have been on my tbr for ages - maybe i'll finally read them this fall. and i also want to finish reading kj charles' backlist bc the completionism drive is stronger than the fear of having no kj charles to read lol

i never do things a normal amount - every time i take up new media i go all in. so i had a musicals phase, a movies phase, a tv show phase - each lasting a few years and then i barely watched any of these once the phase ended. which is why i've been wondering if my current Book Phase is about to wrap up soon but, given how many books i managed to read since january, it sure doesn't seem that way. instead, it feels like the more i read the better i am at finding books that i'm likely to enjoy - which leads to more reading. and i cannot complain about that tbh😁📚

tagging @magpiefngrl @doh-rae-me @oliviermiraarmstrongs @fugitoidkry @pinkasrenzo @counterwiddershins @figuringthengsout @sugarbabywenkexing @fandomreferencepending @venndaai @weirdsociology @sixappleseeds @theodoradove

please tell me what you've been reading this year (if you want)! one can't have too many book recs👀

goodreads │ old mid year tags 2020 2021 2022 2023

[twiceasfrustrating]

Who's to Blame?

Rating: General Audiences  Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Relationships: Lucifer & Mammon & Asmodeus & Beelzebub Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Beelzebub, Asmodeus Additional Tags: fluff, threats of comedic violence (it’s Lucifer my dudes), Cerberus (mentioned) Summary: Lucifer is determined to figure out which of his brothers managed to unleash Cerberus, but they all deny any involvement.  A/N: I wrote this months ago and never shared it publicly. I refuse to go back and edit it. Word Count: 811

“Which of you did this?” Lucifer’s voice was distressingly calm. The same kind of calm that told each of his onlooking brothers that he was exactly two seconds away from tying one of them up in the basement and seeing how long it took for them to starve or go mad – whichever came last.

“Did what?” Asmo asked as he finished buffing his nails to a perfectly rounded tip.

Lucifer held up a frayed leash, covered in mud.

“I don’t get it,” Beel said as he looked at the leash.

“One of you managed to let Cerberus out and had to leave my meeting with Lord Diavolo to go searching for him. Whoever it was will find themselves strung from the basement ceiling as a new chew toy for him."

"It wasn't me," Mammon immediately shouted in his defense. "I wouldn't go near that basement."

"You literally tried to rob one of the tombs down there last week because you thought someone may have been buried with their jewelry," Asmo huffed.

"I only suggested it. Don't go making me a criminal when I ain't one."

Everyone in the room stared at him in uncomfortable silence.

"Why aren't the others being asked?" Beel finally broke the awkwardness.

"Satan has been out nearly all day," Lucifer clarified, "Leviathan hasn't left his room in just as long judging by the trash built up in there, and Belphie won't wake up for me to interrogate him. Now, which of you is responsible?" His magic swirled around him, threatening to ruin whichever one of them didn't own up to it.

"I'm hurt that you'd think I'd do anything to endanger poor, sweet Cerberus like that," Asmodeus said in an exaggerated tone. "I could never."

Beel tilted his head in confusion. "I thought you didn't like Cerberus?"

"And that's why I clearly couldn't be the one at fault." Asmo's face twisted into a sneer from even thinking about the possibility. "Imagine the horror of smelling like dog. It doesn't match my aesthetic."

It was terrible logic, but Lucifer had to admit that it was very Asmoesque logic.

He turned to the other two. "And your excuses?"

"It wasn't me!" Mammon quickly reiterated his last defense. "I would never go to the basement."

"You think that's enough logic to defend yourself?" Lucifer glared, his magic cracking the air around him so harshly that it sounded like a bullwhip.

"You don't believe your sweet little brother?"

"We're all his little brothers, idiot," Asmo muttered under his breath.

"Shadup!"

"I haven't heard a reason why it couldn't have been you." Lucifer's voice grew darker and darker by the moment.

"It just couldn'a been!"

"Mammon is afraid there are ghosts in the old tombs," Beel said as he held his stomach, obviously thinking about sneaking away to grab something to eat. "He never goes down there."

"I'm not afraid!" Mammon barked. "I just dun' have a reason to go down there."

Lucifer shut his eyes and gripped the bridge of his nose. At least this particular incident wasn't Mammon's fault, but that only left one last suspect.

He turned to Beel. "And you?"

Beel seemed to think about the question, but shook his head. "I didn't let Carberus out. He was sleeping when I went into the tomb this morning."

"Beel," Asmo sighed, "That means you were the only one that went to the basement."

"Oh…"  The pieces finally seemed to click into place.

Lucifer's rage seemed to reignite. His demonic form overtook him instantly. "Why were you in the tombs?"

"You were gone all night at Diavolo's place, so I was checking on him to make sure he had food and wasn't lonely." Beel looked downward at the ground like a scolded puppy. "I didn't realize he got out."

There was a beat of silence before Lucifer folded his wings back and dropped his demonic form. "I see. Make sure you clean him up. He managed to make a complete mess of himself."

"Okay…"

"Is that it?!" Mammon yelped. "You would'a hung me from the rafters if I did it!" Not that he wanted that for Beel, but it felt unfair.

Again, Lucifer's form shifted and his dark aura circled around them. "I still could, if you're volunteering."

Mammon winced. "Ehhh… Nevermind."

"Good." He went back to his human face and turned his back on the lot of them. "I have to get back now. Ensure that Cerberus doesn't get out the next time you check on him."

Then he was off, leaving the three of them alone in the room.

Asmo laughed lightly as soon as Lucifer was out of range. "You really got off light there, Beel."

Beel looked at him in confusion.

"Nevermind." He looked at his nails, admiring his work once again. "Let's just say that Lucifer really does have a soft spot for big puppies."

[infinite-ticking-clock37]

Help why is Silved mpreg a new thing on this app- like what started this help me

OH BOY how the fuck do I explain this shit

Ok so basically back in very early January I decided to draw Silver Spoon.. but pregnant. AS A JOKE-

Then my gf (@humanaltarr) posted the pic, and a few of my moots on Tumblr saw it, and at first I was like "Welp this is the end of my Tumblr career" and I think just a few hours later one of my moots (@spiritmander13) wrote the first Silver Spoon mpreg fic called "Silver Suffers With Morning Sickness" with 6 chapters (technically 7 but the 7th isn't involved with the story)

Then Silver Spoon mpreg became a big joke mostly on the oscc discord I believe (I joined it for a few days but left) and then for a while it was quiet, until I started an ask blog called @askthe-iii-shipchildren, on April 5th, and on April 30th I got an ask by an anonymous person where they wanted Candelabra to put Silver Spoon in a maid dress, and I ended up drawing Silver in a maid dress

Now here's were the second Silver mpreg era began. I made a joke with Candle saying "If Silver stays in that for much longer Candelabra is gonna have a little sibling soon" cuz I thought it would be funny (had no idea what it would cause)

Then @spiritmander13 reblogged it and said something like "CANDLE NO-" and I replied back saying "Silver Spoon mpreg part 2 /j" AS A JOKE. She told me not to start it again, and I said "Aw shucks" but in the tags of that reblog, I said "Time to draw Silver pregnant in a maid dress" and that's where I messed up since Spiritmander said they were intimidated.

Suddenly, I got tagged in a post by Spiritmander, and it seemed to be a screenshot of them saying "Don't tell Infinite, my sins shall stay hidden until it is the right time (I scrolled for like 20 minutes on their blog to find that fucking hell)

Then I got a little spooked cuz yk it's not everyday shit like this happens. I then screenshotted it and went into her inbox with the screenshot and asked "WHAT IS RHIS, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN" and she replied with another screenshot and it said "*Casually steals Tumblr mutuals fankid for the story*" and that's when I knew what was happening.

Soon, Spiritmander posted another Silver Spoon mpreg fic called "Little Moth"

Then it was a little quiet after that, with me making an occasional joke about it, always ending it with Spirit saying "HEY YOU STARTED IT!"

There is also this whole thing with "Bab Incest" Spirit did but I wasn't involved with that

Later in to May, me, @spiritmander13 and @mxmc13 formed the "Silver Spoon simp trio" cause apparently we all saw each other as friends so why not

Then the (sort of) mpreg era 3 started again. I'll put this part simply and say that me and a few other people on osc Tumblr got asks in our inboxes by "Anon~Chan" that were basically like a shitty Wattpad story but with II characters, and I personally got a Silverloon mpreg thing.. so fun..

And the most recent thing that happened. There was a Two x Jax post, and me, Mc, and Spirit were basically joking more about Silver Spoon mpreg in the reblogs, until Spirit came along and said "Silver Spoon simp trio canceled." And me and Mc were absolutely DEVASTATED and then Spirit said that me and Mc had to write Silver Spoon mpreg as well, for me as punishment for drawing it and confusing the original poster, and for Mc.. dunno..

And that's what's currently happening, I am working on my Silver mpreg and so is @mxmc13 ..

And yeah that's the whole story pretty much, this was a VERY long post and probably not even was the asker really wanted but meh

Anyways I imma end this off with saying.. I do not regret first drawing the Silver Spoon mpreg, since this is all genuinely fun and it even got me some friends on this site (Spiritmander and Mxmx and their great) so yeah =]

(also this is NO hate to anyone mentioned in this, and the fics that Spirit wrote are actually really good so I recommend checking them out)

[little-diable]

Little-Diable's 15k celebration

15k how fucking insane is this?! It's a number I certainly can't grasp, yet I am so insanely grateful for it. I love y'all so much, thank you for loving my writing, for loving my weird self, and for being so kind.

But enough with the sappy words, let's focus on a proper way to celebrate this milestone, shall we?

As promised this is a celebration for writers and readers (a big thank you to @deathofpeaceofmind for brainstorming with me and for designing the lovely header): here is what we'll do:

Be aware, this challenge/celebration is tied to a prize you can win.

I've chosen five of my all time favourite books, which are: The Song of Achilles, The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires, Hamlet, Lord of the Rings (all parts in one), The Last Kingdom (first part of the series).

For the writers:

Choose one of the following characters: Tommy Shelby, Dean and/or Sam Winchester, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Negan, Sihtric, Finan, Tom Riddle, Kylo Ren, Jasper Hale, Loki

Send me an ask with the character, the genre (smut, angst, fluff), and a number between 5 and 159

I'll choose one of the books listed above and will select a sentence I can find on the page belonging to the number you've chosen for your ask. You can do with the sentence/quote as you please, but it has to show up in the fic.

You'll have time to write your fic till the 10th of December 2023.

Please only write reader-insert fics, use a keep reading tag, and use appropriate warnings. It can be as dark, as angsty, as smutty, as fluffy as you want, there is no limit for the word count. You can combine this with other challenges if you want. You can also write more than one fic for this celebration.

Post the fic with #little-diable15k, message me if I don't reblog it within two days.

Since this is a challenge where you and a reader can win something, please try to actually post your fic till the 10th of December.

For the readers:

You have to actively read the stories posted for this celebration (of course only the ones you are interested in/comfortable with)

On the 11th of December I’ll post a Google doc where you’ll have time to vote for your favourite fic. The doc will be open for one week.

I'm asking you to reblog and comment the fics you enjoy, since this is tied to the prize you can win. I will also reblog every fic, so you can find them on my Tumblr as well.

Now about the prize for one lucky reader and one lucky writer:

Writers: I will list the fics you wrote in a google doc (the fics will be added on the 11th of December), where readers can vote on their favourite fics. The fic which gets the most votes is the winner of this challenge. I will contact you on Tumblr should you win, if you're comfortable with sharing your address / or a PO box with me, I'll send you a small gift; if you don't want to do this @deathofpeaceofmind will design a header for one of your fics as your prize. If there are more winners (meaning if there's a tie) we will find another prize more of you can have!

Readers: If you add your username to the google doc I can see who voted the most and who actively took part in reading. The one of you who votes the most (I will check if you did comment/reblog the fics on Tumblr), will be contacted through Tumblr, if you're comfortable with sharing your address / or a PO box with me, I'll send you a small gift; if you don't want to do this you can request a fic from me instead. If y'all are super active (which I’m hoping for!) we'll find another prize more of you can have!

I hope this is all clear and somewhat understable! I am so so excited for this, and I hope lots of you will take part in it!

Tagging some mutuals and writers/readers who may enjoy this:

@negans-lucille-tblr @writethelifeyouwant @writingliv @zablife @runnning-outof-time @notyour-valentine @springsteens @cillmequick @band--psycho @smellingofpoetry @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @earlgreydreamreplies @footballffbarbiex @thinkinghardhardlythinking @luveline @firefly-in-darkness @holylulusworld @gemini-mama @honeypiehotchner @bluetreecloud20 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @carolina-thiell

[clawbehavior]

ao3 wrapped [writers edition]

from this game and with thanks to this sweetie @killerandhealerqueen ♥️♥️

1.  Favorite work you wrote this year?

'even gods can't change the past'. i liked writing about gahan doing something immoral for understandable reasons.

2. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

i've improved at writing settings and complex characters!

3. How many works did you publish this year?

12, with numerous plot bunnies tagged as #myficlets on here 

4. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

'everything everywhere all at once', hands down. i started it Mar of 2023, nearly abandoned it Sept of 2023, and completed it Aug of 2024. it's my only chronological chaptered story and was challenging bc i had to follow a linear plot rather than jumping back and forth like i do for my other stories. this took A LOT of grit and determination. i am so proud of myself for completing it. 

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

'even gods can't change the past'. it's about gaon and yohan falling in love while gaon is married and caring for his terminally ill child. it's a niche idea but the people who read it were moved by it and reached out to tell me so.

6. Favorite title you used.

'my heart is going back to you, i just don't know'. it's a line from the TDJ song 'The Nights' and so hauntingly beautiful that i'm thrilled to pay homage to it in one of my more complex stories. 

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

i used 'The Nights' in three different stories: my heart goes back to you, eeaao, and eating alone eating together 

8. What work was the quickest to write?

'dreams shall come true', where yohan and gaon practice sparring and it turns heated. i wrote it in a day. 

9. What work took you the longest to write?

after eeaao, probably 'my heart goes back to you'. it's more layered than my other stories, so i need to be well rested and energized to write, which is a tougher state of mind to achieve. but my anon likes it and i enjoy writing for them ♥️♥️

10. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

12! you can read about most of them here. there's a hades and persephone one too

11. What’s your longest work of the year?

eeaao at 63,393. interestingly, 'even gods can't change the past' is my second at 20,405, which is surprising because i wrote that in a few weeks whereas eeaao took 1.5 yrs

12. What’s your shortest work of the year?

'the second coming' which is 642 words. it's incomplete tho.

13. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

post-canon! love making my boys happy

14. Your favorite character to write this year?

(happily) morally gray yohan

15. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

gaon in the 'second coming'. he's like sunah in this au, so writing him to be familiar but also new has been challenging 

16. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

elijah and yohan. i'm trying to get better at writing young adults/youth/kids where they have full personalities but are still impressionable

17. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

'even gods can't change the past' because i like how it flows. but i generally reread my works extensively in the week after they're published to revel in the final thing 

18. Did you write any gifts this year?

4! eeao for Tamiwitch, 'my heart goes back to you' for anon, and 'dreams shall come true' for briwates, plus a fourth surprise coming soon! 

19. Did you receive any gifts this year?

no :') i love receiving them tho

20. Did you do any collaborative works this year?

ya, with this cutie @fr-wiwiw with whom i share a braincell. stay tuned for our collab fic coming soon called 'i'm lost around you under a spell, when i found you i lost myself'

21. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

it's a passage from ch 8 of eeaao from gaon's pov:

he suddenly remembers the night he got into that accident. how he flew off his bike and skidded the length of the tarmac until he came to rolling stop in the dirt lining the freeway, flat on his back. he’d staggered to his feet and pulled his hopelessly scratched helmet off, pushing the sweat-soaked hair out of his face to look up --

-- only to pause, stunned. it was nighttime outside Seoul. he could see all the stars that light pollution shrouded in the inner city. an entire sea of them, twinkling. it was magical. it was sublime. had gaon come twelve hours prior, he would've seen this landscape under sunlight. the lake would've been iridescent blue; the trees rich with autumnal oranges, yellows and reds, colors so vivid he would be able taste them. things which had made his heart beat fast and his tongue feel thick, all his smallness before the beauty of the world.

he hadn't come during the day because he'd spent the previous however many days agonizing over yohan. gaon, who loved plants partly through nurture and definitely by nature, had completely missed the leaves changing color when it was something he looked forward to every year.

staring up at the sky, breath misting in the frigid air and gradually becoming aware of the throbbing pain in his wrist and along his side, face wet and hot with tears leaking into his mouth, gaon had realized something big: he would be okay living with grief that ebbed and flowed, under a debt that grew in size rather than diminished, absent his parents and absent his lover, if it meant he got to see the sky like this. if gaon could just see the seasons change from crisp autumn to mild winter followed by new spring.

--

this was hella fun to do and i def encourage writers to have fun with it. tagging with no pressure to play and much interest in your responses: @fr-wiwiw @mid-n0vember @gayautisticraccoon @uhhhhmanda @godotismissingx @thedeviljudges @jehan-d-art @technitango @tenderlywicked @a-small-batch-of-dragons