#she is adorable but feels tailor made to a specific kind of (because there's no better word for this) gooner

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 49 – Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh

Introduction

I forget who initially recommended me this book, but I owe them an incredible debt. Really the only disappointing thing is that I hadn’t heard of it even sooner, as this really is just perfectly tailored to appeal to me specifically. First science fiction/fantasy novel I can remember reading in a long time that I actively wished was longer. As a testament to how much I liked this book – this review is long enough to need subheadings.

So! Some Desperate Glory is a space opera, following Kyr (Valkyr, technically), a 17-year-old cadet and genetically enhanced ‘warbreed’ golden girl of Gaea Station – that being the quasi-fascist statelet of militant dead-enders who fled to a desolate planetoid in a dead system to continue the war after aliens destroyed the earth/most of humanity. After she gets assigned to Nursery (read: breeding the next generation of soldiers) instead of a combat wing and has a crisis of faith, she talks herself into running away to help her brother on the suicide mission terrorist attack he was deployed on. With the help of one of her brother’s friends and a captured alien, she manages it, discovers that her brother had absolutely no intention of actually following orders once he’d made it out, and take it upon herself to do her own, better, terrorism. From there the plot gets weird, and I’m going to spoil it shamelessly talking about it, but if you value surprises when reading at all just stop this review and go read it.

The Heroine

Kyr is, and I say this lovingly, the most insufferable bitch of a 17-year-old military brat I’ve ever spent time in the head of (at least at first). Even compared to the other indoctrinated child soldiers she’s the cop nobody likes. She then spends the first third to half of the book unlearning this indoctrination, by which I mean very arduously and painfully reaching a point of ‘the fascist cult was a corruption and black mark on the good name of the death cult vengeful crusade, I’ll do it better’ and ‘it’s probably okay to not, like, personally hate aliens who were too young to have been alive when the earth was destroyed. Torturing them for no reason is wrong, like abusing animals was, back when there were animals’. She spends the entire book expecting on a bone-deep level to get herself killed for the cause, and at the end of the book is only like 10% of the way better (one of the last beats in the entire story is, standing with one of her only friends and sure they’re both about to run out of life support, offering to snap their neck for them because ‘asphyxiation’s a nasty way to go’). Whenever she is confronted with the idea that some people aren’t constantly aware of the possibility of physical violence or get to live their lives as something other than a bullet in the gun seeking vengeance for a dead planet she wants to scream and smash things at the unfairness of it all. I adore her.

Honestly my only real complaint is how quickly she starts mellowing out in the second and third acts of the story. There’s extenuating circumstances (whole extra life of memories, time loop bullshit, forcibly confronted with what she said she wanted and what it looks like, etc), but past the one real big hump it did rather feel like her character development suddenly became a bit smooth and easy/. This is one of the things I’m talking about when I say I wish the book was longer – everything after the first big climax and the time travel/universe editing felt kind of rushed and abbreviated.

As far as being a #problematic fave goes, Kyr was also very carefully kept from being, like, directly personally culpable for anything really unforgivable. Which I do understand why from a wanting people to sympathize with the racist homophobic fascist child soldier, but like – you’ve already introduced time travel and retroactivity. C’mon, don’t get cold feet now. Let her and Avi really share the ‘killed trillions in a universe that retroactively never happened’ credit.

Also, and entirely tangentially – you know how in a lot of action shows, the hero has incredibly emotionally tense rivalries and/or camaraderie with other guys, and then also an extremely conventionally feminine girlfriend off to the side somewhere who does like two things in the entire story and mostly seems to exist to prove he’s straight? Kyr has that, except she is textually gay (if incredibly repressed about it and like 90% of the way to asexual in terms of libido). Sorry Lis, but you are literally barely a character. Cleo’s right there, and already has a personality that’s more than two bullet points and is actually involved in the plot in ways beyond ‘love interest’.

Gaea Station

The shitty fascist asteroid habitat that Kyr grew up on is (if barely) the primary setting of the story, and as far as portrayals of incredibly unbalanced and fundamentally broken society just full of cultlike and ultranationalist neuross. I kind of love it as a dystopian setting, though I feel like the author kind of over-egged the pudding on it by the end of the book.

Society is organized into what feels like an intentional parody of a lot of YA dystopia setups, where you live in a tightly integrated mess all through adolescence (each with their own heraldic animal to idenity with!) but then at 17 your exams determine the branch of society you will be assigned to for the rest of your life to do your duty for humanity. Of course, unlike most YA dystopias, the System isn’t the result of some leviathan-state ruling the fates of millions or a tradition that’s going back generations upon generations – it’s a ramshackle mess that can barely consistently feed its warrior elites enough protein slop to take advantage of their genetically engineered hormone levels for muscle growth. It’s all so clearly and intentionally artificial and fake that it loops around to feeling extremely realistic.

Also do love how the elder generation all have names like Joel or Ursa or Elena, while the younger generation are all Valkyr and Magnus and Avicenna and Zenobia. The only really surprising thing is that they don’t specifically call out how children are raised in common and without individual families as following Plato’s Republic – it’s exactly the sort of attempt to create a grand unifying mythology for all of Earth’s true and vengeful children.

I really do wish Tesh had trusted the reader a bit more about it, though. Like, we can tell that almost all the names of the younger generation are either historical figures form the Mediterranean/Greco-Roman world or Norse mythology (with a few exceptions like Avicenna who fit the general aesthetic if not those exact conditions), which puts a bit of a lie to the whole ‘pan-human’ bit. It’s a clever bit of characterization through worldbuilding! You don’t need to call it out twice in dialogue between characters and then again in an in-universe scholarly essay excerpt at the start of a chapter. I can’t complain too badly though, she’s really not even close to being the worst for that I’ve read recently.

One thing I did like especially because I don’t think it was ever called out and brought front and centre is just the sort of, like, perfect irony of both Kyr and her brother Magnus – ‘warbreed’ engineered supersoldiers with physical capabilities beyond any baseline human, blonde aryan ubermensch, the golden children and eugenic future of Gaea Station/true humanity – both being queer and totally unsuited to their assigned gender roles. If it was, like, specifically brought up in a big monologue as disproof of the Gaean ideology or something it’d feel much too on the nose, but as just a set of facts underlying the characterization of the protagonists I liked it quite a lot.

Trio Dynamics

They don’t actually have all that much pagecount spent together, now that I think about it, but as far as I’m concerned the absolute heart of the story is the dynamic between Kyr, Avi (Avicenna, genius-level hacker and cynical rat bastard discontented Gaea Station restaurant) and Yiso (young and rebellious Prince of the Wisdom, taken captive by Gaea when they’re personal ship came too close and then liberated/kidnapped by the other two in their escape attempt). It’s peak trauma-bonding in that the first time it involves a) Avi torturing Yiso to force the alien supercomputer to let him access it and b) Kyr shooting Avi in the head after he uses access to the supercomputer to wipe out 90% of galactic civilization as payback for the whole ‘destroyed Earth with an antimatter missile’ thing (she got a case of morals when confronted with what ‘winning’ would mean. Also her brother shooting himself.)

By all rights they should absolutely hate each other and after two temporal recursions and oceans of retroactively unspilled blood on all their hands they’re the only people who even slightly understand each other. At one point Kyr tells Yiso ‘just so you know, I don’t really care about you as a person,’ and then immideately thinks ‘that was a lie. Why did I say that?’ Avi and Kyr both deprogram themselves from the cult that raised them but only the ‘loyalty to the cult’ bits and not the ‘alien race war vengance death cult’ bits. Yiso meets Kyr in an atemporal training simulation and gets retroactive Stockholm syndrone even though the first time they actually meet she breaks their ribs for repressed teenager reasons. They all drive me absolutely insane and I absolutely adore them. Even if Avi’s redemption felt waaaaay too rushed and unjustified in the final recursion, willing to forgive it here.

Time Loops

The big twist of the story is that, having fucked up and enabled Avi taking vengeance for Earth by doing the same thing to every other alien species, Kyr jumps into the alien supercomputer time manipulation buisness wholesale and goes back to prevent the destruction of Earth. Which then fast forwards to her being a newly minted officer in the Terran Expeditionary Fleet that is the imperial power dominating the known galaxy in increasingly high-collateral damage ways as time goes on. Yiso, in this timeline the beating heart and soul of the main alien resistance group, seeks her out and restores her memories and they go back to try and hijack the alien supercomputer before the government office whose hijacked its crippled remnants (as helmed by the alternate-timeline version of Gaea Station’s great leader, now a fleet admiral of the ‘Providence’ division) manage to literally destroy the universe.

It is mostly down to all the fanfic I’ve read, but I really, really adore timeline divergences that ropagate out and leave all the major characters different but similar people in alien yet appropriate situations. I also adore time travel stories about someone turning the timeline into swiss cheese trying to brute force their way to the one and only golden ending. So I adore this whole conceit. Really my only complaint is that there were only two (one and a half, really) recursions. Not that I’m demanding a full groundhog day here. But, like, it’d have been nice. And Kyr/Avi/Yiso continuously bumping into each other in different configurations and usually ending up at gunpoint would have been ann absolutely amazing bit.

Space Orcs

I can’t be sure Tesh actually had any exposure to the whole online meme of ‘humans as space orcs’, but I do and it’s really impossible to read the book as anything but an examination of the idea. Compared to every alien species ever encountered, humans are tall, heavy, muscular, impulsive, and violent. In a one-on-one confrontation they’ll snap any other species’ neck. The very first pages of the book are an excerpt from an in-universe text writing for an aliens about how actually really humans are very intelligent, and then talking about how threat displays and ‘human culture’. In the original timeline they even fit into the usual social niche of orcs in a lot of fantasy these days – the scattered and diminished remnants of a brutal empire that was defeated and mostly-exterminated in their attempts to conquer the universe.

The book’s handling of this doesn’t really have a point, as far as I can tell – the worldbuilding’s sufficiently divorced from anything real that trying to call it a commentary on racism or genocide or conquering empires is a stretch. (It is after all a fundamental point of the book that the obliteration of earth and extermination of the vast majority of humanity really was the only way the Wisdom could prevent the Terran Federation from conquering the known galaxy. Which is I’m extremely sure not something the author intends to be a historical analogy.) I found it a fun bit of worldbuilding and interesting subversion of normal space opera tropes regarding humanity’s relative abilities, anyway.

Theodicy

Is an incredibly pretentious way to title this section, but also in a sense kind of the core of the book’s plot? In an interesting way, and I think it’s really the book’s greatest weakness that it doesn’t explore or grapple with it enough.

Which is to say – the Wisdom is at the heart of galactic civilization. It’s an alien AI with vague but vast (though limited) reality-warping and precognitive powers. It does not rule the civilizations that accept it, but guides them as a benevolent god towards best, happiest outcomes with whatever support they ask for or need. To determine what ‘best’ means, it creates its Princes, vat-grown heirs to the dead species that created it, with a lifespan of millenia spent going through simulations and interacting with the world to provide the data and decision-making it requires to make that sort of strategic decision.

The Terran Federation’s attempt to reverse-engineer or hijack the Wisdom put it in a situation where the only solution its princes could find was to destroy the better part of humanity and even more of their industry and culture. Through the plot of the first acts of the book, Kyr and her genius-level-hacker friend hijack a node of it and Kyr convinces/forces it to accept her decision-making instead of its prince (who they just killed). This results in an explicitly colonialist human empire ruling over aliens as oppressed subjects, and using the half-wrecked and poorly understood Wisdom to eliminate threats before they occur (shunting the reality backlash off to alien worlds they don’t care about). The next acts of the book mostly resolve around fixing or reverting this, and end with Kyr diving back into a node and having another conversation with it.

A conversation which is basically it giving up. It reverts things back to the human-genocide timeline, then shuts down its infrastructure and goes dark, leaving the entire mostly pacifistic and loosely governed galactic civilization it had protected suddenly on its own. Humanity were such assholes we found a loving god and then convinced it to kill itself.

Which, like, could 100% totally work. As far as high concept short story prompts go its incredible. But as far as actually driving the action goes the Wisdom is the one who makes the most important deciisons in the entire book, and determine the entire shape of the plot. For it to land, it really really needed more than two and a half short conversations on screen, at least to me.

TL:DR

Good book, lesbian doing space atrocities, should have been longer.

[grapenehifics]

💖👀🥰 please!

For this ask game!

💖 What made you start writing?

Reading fics and watching Clone Wars. I was perfectly content to just keep reading other people's fics into perpetuity until I got an idea of my own (while watching Clone Wars) that wouldn't leave me alone, and I thought, this is going to be too much work to write (and I was right; it totally was too much work; I don't know what I was thinking) so it'll just live in my head.

Then I started to think about the fics I was reading and enjoying, and what if those authors had said 'I'm not going to bother writing this down/sharing this' - then I wouldn't get to read all these great fics! And I started feeling kind of guilty for reading and not sharing (which isn't true; there's plenty of benefit to being a reader and not a writer *especially* if you're leaving comments but that wasn't how I was framing it at the time), and also it was early lockdown at that point and I was working from home and I had the time to fiddle around with it, and the more I wrote out an outline and started drafting the more fun I started having, and it was addicting so I kept going and then I started a second fic and thus both Solsbury Hill and An Uncivil War happened.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Okay! I shared a piece of The Last Waltz here, but that's my main WIP so I'm going to choose another. This is from the scene where Rex is helping Anakin get ready for the ball where he will meet Obi-Wan for the first time (cue Beauty and the Beast soundtrack here: "Here's where she meets Prince Charming! But she won't discover that it's him 'til chapter three!")

“Please tell me there’s no top hat, at least,” Anakin said as he turned to look at himself in the full-length mirror. “The tails are bad enough.”

“This event will be taking place entirely indoors, so no hat required,” Rex said calmly, standing back to admire his handiwork.

“This makes me look like I have no ass at all,” Anakin complained, and Rex tried very hard to stifle a snort.

“I’m sure that’s not true, sir.”

“Yes it is. And call me Anakin,” Anakin said firmly, turning away from the mirror. He was tired of looking at himself anyway. And besides, he already knew what he looked like in a tuxedo; he’d certainly been forced to wear one on enough occasions over the last couple of years, as if somehow his life was trying to make up for the fact that he’d spent the first sixteen in nothing more expensive than jeans from JC Penney’s. The idea of ever actually putting on a tuxedo, much less owning more than one, and all tailored specifically for him, had been about as foreign a concept to him as actually becoming a real-life James Bond would have been, and both things were about equally as unlikely.

(He even had the watch for it. Anakin’s watch, Qui-Gon had boasted proudly, was an Omega Seamaster 600M, which meant, for some reason, it would remain waterproof at depths and pressures that would destroy the rest of Anakin’s body in less time than it would take to say ‘Help! I’m drowning!’ Anakin was still unclear as to why this was a good thing.)

Speaking of watches. “Time to go, Anakin,” Rex said, and held the door open for him.

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

I adore it! I'm just slow about answering haha. But I will eventually and I do love to talk about both my and other people's fics, and writing in general. That's half the fun of it - I mean I always say I would write even if no one was reading but me, just because I enjoy it, and that is true, but sharing them and talking about them and making friends from them is a joy. We have a fun little community that I'm really, really grateful for.

Thank you for the ask!

[maschotch]

please never apologize for geekin’ about these nerds! i adore the geekiness!

you’re absolutely right— paget’s acting choices are so particular and yet pass by in a moment that the pacing of the story would have to be snail-like and measured to account for it. and that works for some stories, but not for most. it’s certainly tough and i don’t envy you for having to make that call.

i do think it’s fascinating to see the impact religion has on emily despite her, clearly, not being devout. no one on the team, save for derek and (maybe, early) jj could be classified as such and yet! emily harbors such an immense level of guilt and burden that i’m genuinely surprised we didn’t get more confessions from her. especially through the boston-doyle story line. nevertheless, i found that to be perfectly evocative 👏🏻 well done 👏🏻

and i agree, i think that hotch is another case of an actor making such particular choices about the emotional expressions of his character and it gives such good texture to the dynamics of the show and team! i just made myself a little sad thinking about how a story that delved into all of those characters’ observations of hotch’s level of care could be told… because those stories they’d tell about how they found out the depth of his care would need an audience… 😖 what if, after haley dies, much after the funeral, she visits them all. she’s worried that hotch won’t be emotionally open with jack and she just wants to make sure his friends know. and so, she comes to them in their dreams and she asks, and so they tell her their stories. and when they see the hotchner boys at the bau the next day for a half day with hotch and jack says ‘i saw mommy last night and she told me to tell you all thank you! everything’s going to be okay’ and runs off back to dad’s office, they all look at each other like— wait. did we all have the same dream? (fade to black)

anyway, clearly you are in kind company. feel free to write essays (after exams (that you’ll absolutely succeed on)) of course 💛

- 🦢

i don’t typically acknowledge actors specifically (celebrity culture is weird enough already and i don’t really wanna partake), and i’m extra hesitant with pg/tg specifically… akjsdhlgk i dont wanna be mean but i’ve seen them in some other stuff and they are… not the best actors (even though i’m still obsessed with love and human remains, and pg does AMAZING as sadie doyle). but when they play these two roles specifically… idk something just clicks. i don’t think the characters would be the same—i don’t think the characters would be half as good—with anyone else. emily just has an incredibly lively energy that also feels meticulous, like a carefully crafted persona. authentic but tailored. meanwhile hotch’s entire personality is conveyed through microexpressions that sometimes i think i just hallucinate. he’s sooo reserved but there’s still so much emotion?? idk how he does it 

i love and respect emily and doyle because she only takes everything sexy about christianity (or whatever fucking religion they talk about): insurmountable guilt, sick aesthetics, and demons. derek can go cry about god if he wants idc i just like the guilt aspect.. constantly needing to prove that there’s worth in her existence. she’s kind of like hotch that way, but emily’s is more about repentance and hotch is more about freddie mercury vibe wishing he’d never been born at all which is soooo sexy of him  

that’s definitely a cool story idea! i also like the idea of haley haunting the other bau members? they feel guilty for taking hotch away, wondering if maybe none of this would’ve happened if they just let him leave like she wanted. 

[amphxtrite]

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: loosely based on ‘helpless’ from hamilton.

warnings: unwanted touching, spelling/grammar mistakes.

word count: 3.6k

“boy you’ve got me helpless, look into your eyes and the sky’s the limit, I’m helpless.”

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

The Yule Ball was getting closer. After months of excitment, planning, giggling behind hands and whispering into peoples ears, the night was only a month away. The atmosphere of the school was strange, you went from fearing for your champion’s life, to happily gushing over outfits, dates and dancing, no one was complaining though, you’d much rather happily imagine then fear for friend’s lives. You were excited for the ball, there was no doubt about that. You spent days and nights daydreaming about the upcoming dance. Picturing the ball in your head was one of your favourite things to do to pass time, thoughts of Christmas themed decorations, gorgeous dresses and beautifully tailored suits, bright lights to match the spirit of joy noticeably in the air...

“y/n? Earth to y/n,” a small voice calls.

“y/n, you need to get your head out of the clouds.” a cold digit prods your face and you jump back.

“Christ, what the heck Mione!” You whisper-shout over to the girl next to you. Hermione simply laughs at your shock. “Your hands are so cold.” You shiver, pouting slightly.

“Oh don’t be so whiny. Pay attention, this is important.” She points to the front of the class where professor Binns is droning on and on about the giant wars. You groan quietly and prop your hand on your face again. “You know sometimes I hate how smart you have to be.” You mutter, scratching your quill against a blank scrap of parchment. Hermione rolls her eyes and continues her notes. “Has anyone asked you yet? To the dance I mean?” You lean onto your best friend’s shoulder. Hermione flushes an adorable pink, “as a matter of fact, yes,” you grin. “Ron finally plucked up the courage eh?” Hermione looks at you confused. “Who said anything about Ronald?” You immediately lift your head from her shoulder and clear your throat refocusing on the ghost professor. “Anyways. What was the name of that one giant again, the leader?” Hermione rolls her eyes again. “You need to be more specific y/n.” She continues to rattle on a list, giving you dates, and clan names in typical Hermione fashion. It seemed your distraction worked.

The dance was a couple days away now, and because you lost track of time you had yet to find a gown. You were thinking you would have to pay a visit to Hogsmeade sometime. As you open a package your mum sent you, your thoughts run short. A long red ball gown with tulle covering a beautiful satin sits before you, off the shoulder with a corset like top, you weren’t one to want to catch attention, but this dress was absolutely perfect. It took a second to snap out of your trancelike state, but you immediately picked up the dress to admire it. A handwritten note flutters from the dress to the floor, you pick it up.

‘Dear y/n, because I know you forgot. It’s in your size and everything, have fun my darling, write soon. - Love mum’

She knew you too well, you smile. Taking a minute you write a ‘thank you’ note to your mom and send it off with your owl. “Be careful out there.” You stroke her head before releasing the brilliant white owl and watching her fly into the distance.

Giddily, you run to the bathroom and step into the gorgeous dress. zipping it up was a struggle by yourself, but once it was on you could’ve fainted from happiness. You felt like a queen. Powerful and vibrant. You spent some time in the mirror simply twirling around, admiring the way the gown seemed to bring out the best in you and the way the fabric seemed to sparkle. you step out of it, cautious not to break anything and carefully fold it back into the box, happily carrying it to your trunk.

“What do you mean you don’t have a date yet?!” Hermione questions during lunch later that day.

“Mione, it’s nothing, I don’t need a date!” You reassure the fretting brunette. Hermione doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer. “This is ridiculous. This is impossible. Pansy Parkinson’s managed to scrape a date, how could no one have asked you?!”

“Well.” You rub the back of your neck nervously. “Someone did ask you? Why didn’t you accept? I know you’ve wanted to have a perfect dance at the ball for months!” Hermione inquires. “Well, that’s the thing.” You begin, taking a quick sip of tea. “I want it to be perfect, I can’t expect that from a joke like Cormac Mclaggen, now can I?” You explain, a deadpan look on your face. Hermione cringes and nods understandingly. “Don’t worry Mione, I’ll still get to dance. Maybe I’ll ask a friend.” You grin at the gryffindor in a reassuring manner. Hermione manages a weak smile, but she still didn’t like the fact that her best friend was going without a date to the dance she’d been dreaming about since it was announced.

Placing a gold necklace on your neck and slipping on your heels you sigh to yourself, “everything's gonna go great.” You tell yourself, practically manifesting a good night. Checking yourself in the mirror, you give yourself a smile and a thumbs up. It was the night, The Yule Ball had finally arrived, and while you were excited, the fact you were stepping in alone made you nervous. Taking another deep breath you smoothen your hair out a bit and nod reassuringly to yourself.

You make your way down to the Great Hall in a hurry, receiving many compliments on the way down. Despite feeling bashful at first, you feel your confidence grow and begin to walk with a pep in your step. Hermione steps out of the crowd and spots you. “Blimey, y/n! Look at you!” She squeals, pulling you into a tight hug. You blush and squeeze her back. “Thank you Mione! Oh and look at you!” You step back to admire her dress. “You look absolutely stunning.” You smile as Viktor walks over and sticks his arm out for Hermione to take. “I’ll see you inside.” You whisper over to her, pushing her towards her date. She grins, taking Viktor’s arm and walks over to the other champions.

The doors finally open and everyone heads inside, loud gasps are audible as excited students make their way in. The decorations were everything you could’ve ever dreamed for. The Great Hall had been transformed into a winter wonderland. The walls looked like they were covered in glistening ice. Long, shining icicles hung from the ceiling and three gorgeous evergreen trees were placed at the front of the room, elegantly decorated and covered in snow. Your mouth opens in a delighted smile.

The music begins and the champions begin their walk forward. You push your way to the front and clap excitedly as you spot Hermione, arm in arm with the Bulgarian Seeker. She waves back at you, an excited smile gracing her face as she begins to dance along with the other champions. It was strange, you saw these people fight for their lives, and here they were dancing. It was beautiful really, kind of funny when Harry would accidentally mess up.

Soon enough everyone is walking to their dates to begin dancing. Your shoulders sink a little as people begin to unite with their partners and smile moving across the dance floor. You look in the crowd for Hermione, hoping she’d help you find someone. You finally spot her a little while away and begin to walk towards her, slipping in between laughing couples, trying your best not to step on anyone’s toes. You raise your eyes above the crowd again, frantically in search of your best friend’s, but instead lock with a pair of beautiful brown orbs.

And suddenly you’re helpless.

Eyes full of determination, happiness. Eyes so mischievous, but serious at the same time. Staring into your soul, raising heat to your cheeks. He looks away, but your eyes are still focused on him.

“Y/n, there you are!” You turn and see Hermione dragging Viktor over to you. “Who is that?” You grab her arm, looking back over at the man who had captured your attention. Hermione’s head swivels over, eyes moving back and forth. “Fred? Are you talking about Fred?” She asks looking back to you, her eyebrows drawn together. “If you mean the handsome red-head with the cute brown eyes.” You smile giddily. Her face lights up. “You’re in luck, he’s here by himself too!” You look at her confused. “How do you-“

She laughs at your confused expression. “You really don’t know? That’s Ron’s older brother.” Your mouth goes agape at her statement, how did you not know him? She holds a finger to you, and makes her way across the room to Fred.

You start to panic, what was she up too? Hermione grabs Fred’s arm and begins to pull his arm. You come face to face with those pools of gorgeous brown again, but you don’t think he’s noticed you yet. Hermione starts to get closer, a laugh coming from her lips.

“Where are you taking me Granger?” Fred smirks, rolling his eyes at the persistent girl.

“Hurry up! I’m about to change your life!” Hermione grins ear to ear.

“Then by all means, lead the way.” Fred shrugs, giving in to Hermione’s insistent pulling.

Hermione finally stops in front of you and looks at Fred expectantly.

The Weasley’s eyes widen and his jaw drops, he has to blink the shock out of his eyes as he takes in the beautiful girl in front of him. She was absolutely stunning, especially in his house colours.

“y/n l/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You greet sticking your hand out to him. “My best friend.” Hermione smiles, bumping shoulders with Fred. You roll your eyes at her antics and look to Fred again. “Lovely evening isn’t it.” You try and coax him from his dazed expression. Fred shakes his head slightly and finally breaks into a smile and takes your hand. “If it takes a cheesy, Christmas dance for us to meet, it will have been worth it.” The gryffindor presses a kiss to the back of your hand. You blush bashfully at the gesture, looking over to your best friend. Hermione smiles. “I’ll leave you to it.” She waves, making her way back to Viktor and resuming their conversation.

“May I have this dance y/n.” Fred rises, offering you his hand and dropping into a low bow. You roll your eyes, but grin, taking it into yours and placing your other on his shoulder. “Of course.”

Fred beams, putting his other hand on your waist. He begins to lead you in a waltz with the other couples. Your smile widens as he twirls you and catches you in his arms again, pulling you closer to his chest. “You’re quite the dancer Fred.” you giggle. “Why thank you darling.” He smirks, leaning you back into a dip. “So tell me a bit more about yourself y/n.” He asks, taking your hand into his again and gliding you across the dance floor. You think for a moment before answering. “Well, I’m in y/h, in my fourth year, my favourite subject is defense against the dark arts and I love quidditch. What about you?” You inquire, pushing back some of the boy’s messy, long hair that had made it’s way onto his eyes. A pink hue appears on his freckled cheeks as his smile pushes his dimples in the most adorable way. “Well as you may have guessed, I’m a gryffindor, in my sixth year, don’t really fancy any class and I too love quidditch, you may have seen my lovely self on the pitch.” He teases.

It all made sense now, he was one of the Weasley twins, Ron’s older brothers, you had yet to meet, you felt stupid not recognizing him sooner, but you’d only seen him on the pitch while he was flying around like a blur on his broom, so it did kind of make sense.

You nod your head. “I think so, you’re quite the beater from what I’ve seen.” You laugh as Fred twirls you once again. As you land in his chest though, he stops dancing, instead just looking deep into your eyes.

“Hope this isn’t too much y/n, but I have to say you look gorgeous tonight.” Fred guides you out of the crowd, walking you to a secluded, more quiet area. A dopey grin breaks out on your lips and you take his hands into yours. “Thank you Fred, you look rather dashing yourself.” You poke at his chest. A cheerful smile makes it’s way onto Fred’s face. “Hey I’m gonna go grab a drink, do you want anything?” Fred questions, jabbing a thumb over to the refreshment table. “A pumpkin juice would be great.” You answer, realizing you too were parched.

“Alright, sit tight love, I’ll be back in a moment.” Fred slowly starts to walk away, waiting till the last possible second to let go of your hand and turn around.

You sigh and sit down in the chair behind you, smoothing out your dress and fixing up your hair a bit. You couldn’t believe how well the night was turning out. Not only did you find someone to dance with, but he was absolutely amazing. And Godric those mesmerizing eyes that put you in a trance and made you feel absolutely helpless.

“Hey y/n!” a cocky voice shouts to you. You sigh annoyed, turning your head around you come face to face with Cormac Mclaggen, the guy you rejected. Oh this was going to be great. “Oh, hi Cormac.” you greet back awkwardly. “I noticed you were all by yourself over here, looking all pathetic, so I thought I’d take pity on you and come offer you a dance.” The blonde quips, puffing out his chest in an arrogant demeanor. You roll your eyes at his behavior and notice Fred on his way back to you, holding on to your beverages. You stand to greet him, but Cormac takes that as a ‘yes’ to dance with him. “That’s what I thought.” He smirks as he places one hand on your hip and one on your bum. You freeze and swivel your head to look menacingly at him.

“Cormac. Get. Off” you emphasize each word, trying to push him off of you, but his grip is tight. “What? You know you want it baby.” He whispers into your ear, pushing his fingers deeper into your hips, you can feel his nails digging into you too, his gross breath getting closer to your neck.

You’re about to knee him in the place where the sun doesn’t shine, when a hand firmly grips onto Cormac’s shoulder and rips him off of you. “I’d listen to the lady if I were you Mclaggen.” Fred’s familiar voice warns the arrogant gryffindor. “Oh, and what are you going to do Weasley?” Cormac scoffs turning to face the significantly taller boy. Fred rolls his eyes, “not me buddy, her.” He points to you. Cormac turns, confused but it’s too late. you’ve already pulled out your wand and pointed it to the cocky gryffindor’s chest. “Petrificus Totalus!” You mutter under your breath as the gryffindor begins to seize up and fall onto the floor in a heavy ‘thump’. Inaudible to everyone else due to the loud music.

“Have a nice rest of your evening Mclaggen.” Fred waves sarcastically and pulls you away from the asshole, leading you out of the Great Hall, drinks still in hand. “Are you alright darling?” He turns back to you, placing the drinks down on the floor and holding your cheek in his hand, looking for any signs of injury.

“He dug his fingers into my hips, there’ll probably be a bruise there tomorrow.” You wince as you run a hand over your left hip, feeling the forming bruise. “Not if i can help it,” Fred pulls out his own wand and hovers it over your side. “Episkey.” He murmurs, hoping this will help soothe your pain. Your hip feels hot, and then very cold, and when you prodded at it again the pain was gone. You keep poking at it to make sure you’re correct, and the pain is really gone! You’re eyes light up and you wrap Fred in a hug. “Thank you Freddie!” You laugh gratefully, knowing Cormac will have left no mark behind. “Of course.” He grins wrapping his arms around your torso.

 “You know, I like it when you say my name like that.” He smirks, pulling back with a teasing look in his eye. “Oh? Then I’ll make sure to say it more often, Freddie.” You giggle, intertwining your hand in his.

“That was badass what you did back there darling, should’ve seen the look on his face when he saw your wand.” Fred smirks, thinking back to the hilarious expression Cormac made as he fell to the ground. You smile proudly. “He got what he deserved, probably harassed dozens of girls tonight.” You roll your eyes at the thought, Mclaggen just couldn’t take a ‘no’. Fred has a proud look on his face. “I bet you’re quite the dueler.” You smirk. “One of the best.” Fred laughs and glances back at the open doors of the Great Hall.

“You still want to go back in?” Fred squeezes your hand. Pondering it for a moment, a thought pops into your head. “You know what, I have a better Idea.” You grin, pulling Fred into a run as you begin to lead him around the castle, your drinks long forgotten. You run with him into the clocktower courtyard and turn to face him again, your gown giving a satisfying ‘swish’ as you turn around. You look down and straighten out your dress again, twirling yourself to get a nice breeze on your legs.

Fred watches in adoration as you twirl around in the night, the snow glistening around you like something out of a magazine. You reminded him of muggle fairy tale, something about a fairy princess, but not even she could compare to your mesmerizing beauty. He walks over to you and takes your hands in his again. He waits until he can hear the faint music from the Great Hall before he begins to dance with you again, twirling you around, gliding across the snowy ground and holding you tight against his chest, enjoying the feeling of your warm hands against him. As the song ends he leans you into a low dip again, but instead of pulling up, he stays there and gazes at you with a soft expression written on his features. “What?” you ask with a small giggle, your hands resting on Fred’s shoulders.

He pauses for a minute, choosing his words carefully. 

“Y/n I don’t have a dollar to my name, an acre of land, a troop to command, a dollop of fame. All I have’s my honor, a tolerance for pain, a couple of Hogwarts credits and my top notch brain.” He teases. “This might be weird since I just met you today, and I may not be able to give you the greatest life, but as long as I’m alive y/n, I swear to God you’ll never feel alone. Would you let me take you out on a proper date, and one day make you mine?” He asks hopefully, finally pulling you up from the dip and pressing his forehead against yours. You feel yourself weakening at his poetic confession, his words awakening something inside you and bringing a feeling of pure joy.

“Fred, I’ve never felt so helpless, just looking into your eyes and the sky’s the limit, I’m helpless. Yes, of course, I’d love to go on a date Freddie!” You squeal happily as a dark blush coats your cheeks, looking into his honey-like orbs.

Fred grins happily, pressing a kiss to your forehead and hugging you close again, holding onto you like a lifeline. “Freddie. You missed.” You laugh, reluctantly pulling back and tapping your lips. Fred smirks. “Whatever my lady wishes” He teases, but his happiness is evident as he brings a hand up to cup your cheek and slowly brings his face closer to yours. When your lips finally meet, they mold together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces. His lips are warm and soft, a taste of fire whisky lingering from a drink he must’ve had. The two of you pull apart and look lovingly into each other’s eyes. The kiss was chaste, but still had you weak in the knees, you probably would’ve fell if it wasn’t for Fred’s arms.

This night was more magical than you could’ve ever dreamed of. You got your dance, a wonderful date, and a marvelous time. You couldn’t believe you how lucky you were to have met Freddie tonight.

Getting lost in his gorgeous brown eyes once again you shiver, finally realizing you were still in the winter snow. “Hope this isn’t too cheesy love.” He teases as he slips off his jacket and places it over your shoulders. “It’s perfect Freddie, thank you.” You say as you lean into his shoulder and begin to rock back and forth with him again. He places his hands on your hips again in a gentle, loving manner and you smile up at him again. As he smirks down at you, eyes full of adoration and happiness, you knew, he was the only one who could make you feel this helpless.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓮 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝓮 𝒟𝒶𝓂𝓃𝓮𝒹 (𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷!𝒮𝒶𝓃) 𝓡𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛! 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑦/𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝐴𝑈

"𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒂 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆...

𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔

𝑫𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍’𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔.."

-𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆: 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The young raven haired man strolled through the crowds of other guests, taking a glance or two whenever something seemed to catch his eyes. But those glances were only fleeting. There seemed to be nothing particularly interesting in any of them.

He took in the scene before him: long, glittering ball gowns spun around, either in tune to the orchestra playing or in a presumptuous effort to be shown off to others. The male specimen differed no greater than their female counterparts, often standing up straighter or running a hand down their expensive and delicately tailored suits, except they were willing to take it a step further and actually discuss how much they paid for it.

Foolish mortals

He scoffed as he studied each one of them. It was truly sickening to him how much humanity had reached its lowest point. More frequently than not, he noticed how humans more than ever were vain, prideful, arrogant, egotistic and disdainful of anything or anyone who wasn't them.

It wasn't entertaining anymore. He recalls a time many centuries ago when he would get a thrill out of corrupting the innocent, driving the wisest of beings into insanity, destroying picture perfect marriages and making the purest of souls fall into an abyss of sin and darkness.

What was the point of trying to do all that now when some of them are destined for destruction since the moment of their birth? It truly irritated him.

Sighing he picked up a glass of wine from one of the trays carried around by the many butlers, poor useless souls as he liked to refer to them. He sipped on the crimson liquid, it's alcoholic venom doing nothing to him even though it was probably his 13th one already.

13? Was it?

He lost count. He shrugged it off though. He could drink it as if it were pure water, his kind were immune to this substance unlike humanity.

He snorted when he'd look at certain people's masks. While most went all fancy and elegant, others decided to have fun and make sure their attire stood out, in the form of red or black masks, adorned with either fangs, horns and overall rather gruesome or grotesque visages. Clearly they were meant to represent none other than his fellow kindred. He scoffed at their personification of him.

"Damnable bastards. If only you knew we are some of the most beautiful creatures to walk next to you....."

Perhaps that's the main reason why they all, man or woman, no matter their age, education or social status, end up ensnared by them. They were irresistible.

He was about to walk out of the hall, bored out of his non-existent soul, when a small titter caught his ears. Turning his face towards the sound, his breath was caught at the sight of an ethereal looking woman. His eyes scanned her from head to toe. She was absolutely perfect: from her luscious (enter color) hair, to her satin smooth skin, all the way down the her tempting figure. Her scarlet colored dress was impeccably on her, the deep plunge in the chest decorated with sequins and rhinestones daring men to not gaze at her cleavage. The waistline was fitted and then fanned out to accentuate her captivating body. Anyone would think this lady was sin itself, she certainly looked the part.

But San knew better. He could see and feel the aura around her. She was wholly pure, absolutely nothing to signify that she'd been stained or deemed unclean. She was simply an overly sheltered girl who no doubt wanted to fit in, be regarded as a mundane person like the rest of them.

Absolutely perfect if you asked him.

He sauntered in her direction, his devilish smirk plastered on his face. Sensing a pair of eyes, she tilted her head and made contact with the demon, now unable to look away from his alluring gaze. Even through the mask covering half of his face, she knew he was the most handsome man she'd ever see, albeit she'd never seen a lot of men in her life anyway.

Inexperienced and naive as she was, she let him stand next to her and take her hand. Lifting it up to his lips, he introduced himself:

"Choi San. Pleased to make your acquaintance my fair lady."

Delicately, he placed a kiss to her fingers, before releasing them from his hold. His touch was cold, but it sent a burning sensation up her entire arm and she found herself longing for his touch again almost instantly.

"L/N Y/N..." She replied in a voice that was merely above a whisper.

"A truly befitting name for such an angelic lady."

He chuckled to himself at his use of the word. If he was successful, which he always was, by the end of the night, there'd be nothing angelic left about her.

He extended his arm out towards her.

"May I have the pleasure of requesting the next dance?"

He made it a point to flash his dimples, knowing they only added to his charm and rendered women unable to refuse him. She stood up and linked her arm in his. He felt a shiver when she touched him, a feeling he only felt when his kind were in the proximity of a pure soul. It was precisely what he'd been craving for who knows how long. Definitely more than a hundred years since the last time he felt such a presence.

He guided her to the dance floor, the other couples already in position. If there was anything San prided himself on, it was his dancing. He's had years of experience to learn almost every dance that had been created, not only because it added to his attractiveness, but because it truly was one of the few mundane things he thoroughly enjoyed.

He especially loved the waltz they were currently playing. Waltzes were so elegant, refined, polished and were perfect when seducing someone. Intense eye contact, hands intertwined and his arm pulling her close to him, he could see a glimpse of the light blush peeking out underneath her ebony mask. She was flustered, exactly how he wanted her. They were practically gliding across the dance floor, perfectly in tune with the music playing.

"Did you come alone?" San decided it was time to strike up a conversation before going for the kill.

Y/N simply nodded, looking down somewhat ashamed. Instantly he knew she was probably not supposed to be here in the first place.

Interesting detail.

"Tired of sitting at home all bored?" He raised an eyebrow at her, but already knowing the answer.

"Can you tell?" She asked, wondering if he could read her mind.

"Well..... I can tell a lot of things about you..."

Releasing his hold on her waist, he lifted his hand to spin her around before bringing her back into his embrace, now closer than before.

"Things like what?" She wanted him to elaborate.

He hummed along to the music, making her impatient for his answer.

"Like..... how you want something exciting to happen tonight. Your eyes are practically for something, anything, that contrasts the dull life you've lived so far..."

She widened her eyes when he spoke those words. Was she that easy to read? That a mere stranger could notice that about her?

"And your countenance only serves to confirm my theory." He finished.

She sighed softly and loosened her grip on him, wanting to walk away, but he only tightened his hold on her. He smirked at her and leaned in, whispering dangerously close to her lips:

"Why don't you let me open up a new world for you?"

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The girl fluttered her eyes open, soft blissful pants escaping her lips. It had been a while since they left the mansion, where San took her to what she assumed was his place. Ruby red walls with matching velvet carpet, umber brown furniture, candles in every corner being the only illuminating feature in the dark room. The only exception was the bed. It was a pitch black color with white sheets and blanket.

Her dress had long been discarded in one of the chairs in the room, the only article clothing her at the moment being her cream colored garter belt with matching thigh high stockings. San thought they looked absolutely adorable on her. The visual only heightened his need to claim her, to corrupt her, to stain her forever with his unholy mark.

He was currently in between her legs, his mouth attached to her heat. Purple blotches were already decorating her inner thighs, courtesy of his teeth. He swirled his tongue around her clit before sucking down on it. He moaned and that action alone made her thighs tremble and close around his head. But he was having none of that. His hands pushed her thighs apart again, nails digging into her petal soft skin as he continued to ravish and feast on her succulent taste.

"S-San...wait...feels f-funny...." She stuttered out after a few minutes.

He knew exactly what she was referring to: she had about to have an orgasm. As much as he'd love to see her come undone on his tongue alone, he made an effort to pull himself back before the feeling got too intense. She let out a whine of frustration and looked at him with a puzzled look, unsure of what was happening.

San ran his thumb across her lip.

"Don't worry darling. I told you I'll open up a new world for you..

And I always keep my promises."

Unzipping his pants, he pushed them down his legs and threw them onto the floor. He smirked as he took in Y/N's astonishment as she gaped at his nude form, or more specifically, at his thick and long length. She seemed to hesitate for a minute, no doubt intimidated by his size, wondering how was that supposed to fit in her.

Climbing on top of her, he placed a reassuring kiss to her temple.

"I'll take good care of you darling...trust me."

His lips captured hers in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped inside and danced around her mouth, almost like the waltz from hours before. His hands went to the back of her thighs, lifting them up and wrapping them around his waist. He lifted his hips up slowly, the tip of his cock pressing against her folds. He began slipping inside her, going inch by inch so she could get adjusted to the feeling, not wanting to scare her.

Although it took a lot in him to not just pound into her as he wished to.

She wrapped her thighs tighter around his waist, the foreign and stinging feeling of his intrusion causing her to hiss and cry out a little. San peppered kisses across her jaw and neck in an effort to soothe the pain, while his hands drew circles around her thighs. He stayed still until he felt her relax under him. She looked back at him, her face asking what to do now.

"I'm going to start moving now ok? Just relax and let yourself go."

He pulled out of her in a speed that was torturous to him. Then he slowly pushed himself back in, watching as she took deep breaths and looked down at where their bodies connected. The more she looked at him pushing in and out, the more it helped to relax and put her at ease. San knew it too. Her at first raspy breathing turned to soft, melodious moaning.

His hips snapped up and began rolling at a faster pace, causing his cock to hit the perfect angle in her. Her breath hitched and she gasped when the overwhelming feeling in her stomach started to return, building up inside her, threatening to be released any second now.

The demon could feel it too. He's had years of experience to know what her body was doing. He watched as her face contorted, trying to figure out what was happening.

"Sa-San..." She called out, trying to warn him.

He smirked at her.

"I know, I can feel you clenching around me. You feel so good. I can't wait to feel you cum on my immense cock."

His dirty talking only served to have her whine underneath him. His hand reached down and began toying with her nipple.

"So come on babygirl, let me feel you burst. I know you can do it.....

Give it to me."

He commanded those last words to her and just like he knew would happen, she shuddered under his body, her first orgasm in her entire life taking over her, a soft pathetic whimper being the only noise she could muster. It wasn't anything too loud or over the top, as San pretty much expected. It was her first time.

Besides.....there was plenty of time to have her scream his name.

He kissed her nose and smiled.

"You did so well darling. I'm so proud of you."

She blushed at his compliments. San pulled out of her, a proud evil grin plastered on his face as he noticed the sticky trail that dripped out of her onto the sheets: a few droplets of blood signifying he had deflowered her.

Now to corrupt her even more.

He picked her body up and spun her around, making her get down on all fours as he gripped her hips once again.

"Now it's my turn to have a little fun."

She let out a loud moan when he entered her for the second time, her body still sensitive from her first orgasm. San didn't bother to go slow anymore, he knew she could take it. He thrusted in and out of her at an inhuman speed, low moans and hisses coming out of his mouth.

"Fuck! I can feel you getting close again beautiful, your pussy is so fucking tight, it's practically swallowing my cock."

He chuckled when he felt her clench even tighter around him.

"Oh you like that don't you? You like being told you're nothing but a cockslut?"

She hid her face in the pillow in front of her, trying to hide the groan that just past through her throat. San however grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face back up.

"Answer me you little whore."

She yelped when his hand landed a harsh smack to her ass.

"Y-yes San!"

He smacked her once again before pulling her even more roughly and pressing her back to his chest.

"Right now it's Master. Got it you filthy slut?" He growled into her ear.

"Yes Master!" She cried out.

"Good little whore." He praised her.

He continued his merciless pounding, one of his hands trailing down her abdomen to rub her now swollen and pink clit. Y/N now had a few tears rolling down her cheeks from the overstimulation and she hung her head low.

"Uh uh little slut. None of that."

His free hand wrapped around her neck, forcing her to look up. He tilted her slightly to the right so she could see their sinful reflection in the mirror by the wall.

"Look at you. You look so fucking desperate, wanting to cum again on my cock. Is that what you want? To cum on master's cock? Then beg for it."

Y/N let out a series of whimpers, collecting all the strength she could to cry out:

"Please master! I want to cum, let me cum on your cock!"

San was loving this. It had been so long since he had such an innocent thing begging for him.

"How bad do you want it darling? Does Master's cock make you feel that good?" He teased her.

"Please Master I want it so bad! It feels so good, please don't stop!" Her words were barely incoherent now from how overwhelmed with pleasure she was.

Having being satisfied by her answer, he squeezed her throat, causing her to gasp and writhe her body as her second orgasm took over, far more intense than the first. He never slowed down his pace therefore making her convulse even more violently and shriek out a chant of his name, further heightening his pride and ego.

Very soon after, he cursed loudly as he reached his own climax, his cock spurting out his cum inside her, filling her up with his sinful load. She collapsed on the bed, worn out by the physical intimacy that just took place. San chucked darkly when not even a minute later she was completely passed out. That always happened. Humans couldn't handle having intercourse with a demon, they were practically insatiable and always passed out after a night with them.

Pulling the blanket to cover her, San ran his fingers through her hair. He admired her features for a few minutes. She was really beautiful, an ethereal beauty that only came once every century. Even in her now corrupted and tainted state, she was still the most alluring person he'd ever seen, and he's seen even angels themselves.

Now he knew he wanted her all to himself, completely for him and for no one else to own. He wasn't going to allow anyone to take her from him. He didn't have to worry about celestial beings claiming her, they wouldn't want her now. But other demons might want her.....

Getting up he opened a drawer and took out something he'd never imagine using in any lifetime. But there was always a first time for everything. He held up the gold contraption in his hand before letting it set over one of the flames from the various candles in the room. Once he made sure it was hot enough, he approached Y/N quietly.

It's a good thing she wouldn't wake up for a couple hours....

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

Y/N squinted, trying to let her eyes adjust to the lighting. She felt a dull aching in her lower abdomen and legs, reminding her of the events that took place last night. She looked around, seeing that she was still at San's place, but he was nowhere to be found. She sat up and rubbed her shoulder, feeling some sort of burning and stinging pain.

She paused when she looked at the mirror and noticed something on the back of her shoulder. Getting up and trying her hardest to walk with her limp, she went to the mirror and turned slightly to the left. She froze when there was a bright red mark on her upper back in the shape of a pentagram with the letter 'S' in the middle of it.

She started freaking out. Was this some kind of joke? Where was San?

"Well good morning my dear."

Speaking of the devil, he appeared right behind her, making her whip around and face him.

"Did you do this?" She asked, pointing to the mark.

"I did. I think it really suits you." He smiled proudly.

"Why? Why would you do this?"

"Why you ask? It's simple."

He took a few steps forward. Leaning in, he gripped her chin.

"Because you're mine now and I own you."

She scoffed at his words, repulsed that he could do this.

"You're insane." She spat out.

"I've been called worse." He sat up straight again.

Y/N marched over to the chair on the other side and began grabbing her clothes.

"And just where do you think you're doing?" San crossed his arms in front of him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving."

He let out a hearty laugh at that.

"Leaving? Oh no sweetheart. You're not leaving. You can't leave me." He told her.

"Yeah? Watch me."

She pushed him out of her way and headed for the door, but before she could reach for the handle, San appeared right in front of her out of thin air, causing her to step back in fear.

"What the-" She exclaimed.

"Let me repeat myself darling..."

San began to take steps towards her as she began to slowly retreat from him.

"I own you. You can't leave because you're mine now. I marked you so no one else takes you from me, in other words..."

He slammed his hand against the wall behind her when they reached it. She watched in horror as his dark orbs shifted into a fiery red color that burned deep in her soul.

"You're bound to me for all eternity...... and now you're a part of my world....and there's no turning back..."

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

[in-somnis-veritas]

Characters

(This is for an AU currently in the works! This is one of the only available posts for it right now, but make sure to drop by the page and follow us to stay up to date! More in-depth info will be released soon about the world of Adrestia)

Name | Age | Race | Status Mod Paragraph

Tommy | 16 | Half-elf | Commoner

Tommy was born and raised in the town of Alnwick, living with his mom for the first few years of his life as his father worked in the capital city of Somritas as a knight. He was raised completely unaware of his status of being a half-elf or the fact that his mother was, in fact, an elf. Now, 16 years old with a dead mother, he continues to live his life believing he’s human--not even showing the telltale signs of being a half-elf because of a pendant he’s worn since he was a toddler. Not that he knows that’s what it does. Loud, rambunctious, mischievous--he always finds the time to harass his friends or flirt with pretty girls who happened to be nearby. Best friends with Tubbo and with a brotherly relationship with Dream, he’s out thriving as an extrovert. Though it’s safe to mention he’s completely banned from the capital city,

Tubbo | 16 | Druid | Knight

Tubbo's entire existence is illegal, pretty much. Born to two druids, he himself is also a druid. When he was 6, his camp was attacked. All of his people were killed. The only survivors were him and his baby brother. After fleeing, they survived on their own for a week. They were soon picked up by another camp, which Tubbo lived in for 9 years. When he was 15, his camp sent him to the city. His brother stayed behind, while Tubbo made the three-day long journey to the city. Soon after his arrival, he became a knight. He has served ever since. Despite being magical, he appears fairly human. The only true way to tell he is a druid is the triskelion tattoo he has, which is just below the crook of his elbow on his right forearm. Within the city, his closest friend is Niki. She was the first one to find out about his magic, and he genuinely trusts her with his life. Outside of the city, his best friend is Tommy. Considering he can't go inside the city, Tubbo usually goes outside the walls to visit. Tommy was the second to find out. Saying he trusts Tommy with his life isn't true, mainly because he would be the one endangering it to begin with.

Dream | 19 | Human | Prince/Royalty

Prince Dream von Galatea the 1st, born August 12th, 1599, is the sole male heir to the well known kingdom, Somritas, in the northern Adrestia region. He is a very respected and competent prince to his royal adversaries and renowned across the land as an excellent warrior. Dream trains almost daily and vigorously, so much so that many outsiders try their hand at challenging him but have yet to beat him. The man greatly idolizes the old “fairy tales” of the human hero saving others from the monstrous non-human races. Though, this then causes the prince to have a bit of a Hero Complex. When a situation involves or pertains to someone he cares for and is emotionally invested in, he’s generally a very impulsive and sensitive man that will end up following his feelings in the heat of the moment rather than his rationalized thoughts. Other than that, however, Dream’s quick at adapting to new situations and thinking on the spot, especially when placed under pressure. To add on, he’s fiercely protective and compassionate to those under his kingdom’s rule and is seen often interacting with the townsfolk in the Town Square, thus his subjects adore the kind prince wholeheartedly. In order to rise to his rightful place as King, he must venture outside the castle walls and vanquish countless magical non-human races, thus proving himself capable to his father. Subsequently along the way, Dream’s close minded beliefs will get upturned as he begins to discover not everything in his kingdom is as fair and just as he once thought. 

George | 20 | Changeling | Upperclass Tailor

George Pruitt is a fairly upper-class tailor born and raised in Somritas. Both of his parents are tailors, and he is one of the most skilled tailors in the city. Many members of royalty favor him and ask specifically sew their clothes for important events. He is Prince Dream's favorite tailor as well. His upbringing was regular and nothing strange happened, but around 14 years old, he started getting signs of magic. He withdrew from people and really only socialized with Dream, which is why they're so close. He tries to seem as human as possible, and hates that he's magical.

Niki | 18 | Human | Commoner

Niki lives in the northern Adrestia region in the kingdom of Somritas as a baker. She owns her own shop where she she sells breads, pastries, cookies, and the like. The unofficial hub of all mysterious strangers, Niki seems to know everyone and everything. While raised on the culture of magical non-humans being bad, her encounters throughout the years change her mind to be more open and welcome to everyone. She makes friends very easily and her shop is one of the most visited in the kingdom.

Techno | 19 | Cursed Human | Prince/Royalty

Technoblade is the prince of the kingdom of Strata, a kingdom in the Adrestia region and one that is allied to the kingdom of Somritas. He was cursed the night before his fifteenth birthday by an unknown intruder in the castle and was shunned by the general public in the kingdom because of his now ‘monstrous’ appearance. He left the kingdom even though the king and queen wanted him to stay and is now searching for someone to undo his curse, which brought him to Somritas. He stays out of the actual kingdom because he would be burned if he ever went inside due to his appearance, so he just camps out in the forest close to it and only goes to the very outskirts of the marketplace and the black market to find someone that can break the curse. Techno is extremely blunt and he’s not afraid to call someone out for being an idiot, but only when he’s comfortable with that person. He hates interaction with people that he doesn’t know and pretty much never talks to anyone unless they talk to him first. He kinda bounces around in different groups of people, but stays with Dream mostly.

Wilbur | 25 | Cursed Human | Outlaw

Wilbur was born in a family that practiced magic. One day, they were caught and the royalty put them up to be executed, but Wilbur able to escape. He would steal things on the streets and retreat to the woods at night. He did this for a couple of years, but when he was 21 he got caught and was scheduled for a public execution. He got one of his eyes removed but was able to escape by setting something on fire as a distraction. He retreated to the forest once again where he practiced witchcraft and lived somewhat peacefully. Then he met Tommy.

Fundy | 20 | Silver dragon-touched human | Traveling Healer

Fundy is a mysterious traveler that works as a healer for money, slipping in and out of towns and leaving little more than a healed patient or two and fleeting memories of him behind. He leaves little opportunity for anyone to get close, and he always carries a wooden fox mask.

Philza | Ealy 30s | Aasimar | Commoner

Phil lives outside of the kingdom, on the edge of a forest with his wife. Aside from tending to his animals and small farm he makes furniture for the more wealthy members of society. He’s an all around kind and genuine normal guy, he’s always willing to lend a helping hand. Sometimes though, when the light hits right, an ethereal glow seems to take form in the shape of a ring above his head. Despite being a regular ol' guy, rumors seem to follow him wherever he goes. Many stories spread about a winged figure slaying beasts either in traps or by their own sword, swooping out of the sky to defend people, leaving nothing left of once feared monsters. Sadly, absolutely none of the rumors are talking about him, couldn’t be. Phil’s just ordinary.

Eret | 20 | Cursed Human | Noble (Court member)

Eret is from a small town on the northern coast of Somritas. They was raised there for the first 17 years of their life surrounded by elves and magic users the entire time. It was a hidden safe haven for elves within the kingdom, a vast majority of its population being the magical creatures. The village was full of so much magic that it ended up causing the humans who lived alongside the elves to become magic sensors, hence why Eret is, well, a magic sensor. They ended up doing something, that something never being disclosed as Eret refuses to explain. It ended up with the high council of elves within the town to be LIVID. They became petty. They cursed him. They made the kid appear magical, ruining Eret’s humanity and forcing them to look similar to an elf with glowing eyes. But it backfired and destroyed their retinas, completely blinding them. So, fueled with the want for revenge, Eret turned on their village and ratted out the magical population. It just so happened to be that they ratted the village out to a royal court member. This gave them a pardon and an audience with the king who gave them an offer. They could help the king as a magic sensor and spy and continue to sniff out the magical congregations or they could burn with the village. Eret chose to stay alive, so they helped the royals torch the village.

[forevercloudnine]

pre-new 52 scarebat ship meme

 (I actually have no idea what to call this period of comics. The dc wiki calls this the “New Earth” universe... it’s like, everything after Jason Todd was retconned out of being a circus acrobat up to Flashpoint. Anyway like a month ago I asked @heroes-etc​ to send me questions for this version of scarebat from this ship meme but then forgot that I did it because I got distracted by other ships. Sorry Jonathan...)

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Bruce does DO physical affection — I mean, how many comic panels do we even have of him making out with Catwoman on rooftops — but he’s not especially forthcoming with it. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that his love interests are more likely to instigate contact than he is, especially when that love interest is a villain like Selina or Talia (can you even IMAGINE him trying to take them off guard in a fight by grabbing their face for a kiss? Because I cannot).

He does occasionally instigate affection with his children/proteges, though usually it’s in instances where they obviously need comfort. Bruce isn’t always great at handling complicated emotional situations, but grief and trauma is something he understands very intimately, and he never hesitates to physically reassure people who are in that kind of pain.

In situations where someone isn’t in the active process of being traumatized, he’s less forward with physical affection. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll reject it if it’s instigated — depending on who you are, of course. I’m guessing he wouldn’t put up with hugs from random members of the Justice League. Superman is his best friend and he would probably try to wiggle out of 90% of Kal hugs if doing so was physically possible. Most of his loved ones don’t really spring physical affection on him unless they need it or it’s an especially emotional moment, however. It’s not really Bruce’s primary love language. 

Jonathan seems even less physically affectionate than Bruce, though obviously doesn’t have a lot of opportunity to demonstrate how he feels either way. Master of Fear offers the only example of him expressing explicitly romantic affection that I know of (unless you count his terrorizing Becky Albright in New Year’s Evil as physical affection, which... might be how he’s thinking of it...?), and it’s entirely instigated by Sherry Squire. He does ask her to the Halloween party, but she’s the one who takes him down to the furnace room for some “one-on-one” time and tells him to kiss her. 

He also notably does not actually get a chance to kiss her, mainly because the whole thing was a prank meant to humiliate him. This might be why he doesn’t try to instigate anything similar with his next crush, Dr. Linda Friitawa (again, unless you count Becky Albright, but I can’t find New Year’s Evil to read anywhere so my only knowledge of his interaction with her comes from Tumblr. I’m like 80% sure he was supposed to be interested in her romantically, but asking someone to do supervillainy with you isn’t the most direct way to express attraction, so I’m taking that as more obliqueness from Jonathan).

He never expresses any direct romantic interest in Linda, but at the very least he clearly cares about her more than he cares for most people, since he, like. Defends her in conversation and apologizes to her for things that aren’t even his fault. Which means a lot, coming from a sociopath with no regard for human life. They do hold hands at one point, but Linda reaches out to him first, and he waits to see if she’s going to back away from his reciprocated touch before he reaches for her other hand. 

He never instigates anything further with her, possibly out of fear of rejection. Unfortunately, it turns out that this was a good call, because Linda was only pretending to be nice to him while Penguin was paying her to experiment on Jonathan without his knowledge. When Batman figures out what they’re doing, she immediately fucks off and starts dating Black Mask.

Even more unfortunately, his 45 seconds of hand holding with Backstabby McMad Scientist is probably the only mutual physical affection Jonathan has ever experienced in his entire life, so honestly I have no idea if he would be more into it as a concept if it was offered to him more often. He’s clearly willing to return physical contact when it’s initiated by someone else, so maybe it is something he would seek out in an actual relationship? He DOES get handsy with Bruce when he has Batman tied up sometimes. 

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

Trip out on fear toxin, both of them, hands down. There are few things more embarrassing than, as Jonathan aptly describes it, being “reduced to whimpering quivers” in front of your enemy. Especially an enemy who’s presumably jotting down notes on your worst fears, since Batman/Scarecrow fights tend to just be competitions in who’s more frightening.

11. What do they hide from one another?

I mean, obligatory mention of the fact that Bruce hides things from absolutely everyone (with the possible exception of Alfred, because Bruce trusts him as completely as he is capable of trusting anyone, and also because it’s really hard to hide things from a parent whose involved in every aspect of your life and already knew you before you developed your pathological need to obfuscate your feelings and intentions).

As Wonder Woman pretty aptly describes during the Tower of Babel arc, even Bruce’s closest allies are never going to hear the full story from him. So it’s deeply unlikely he’d ever be 100% truthful with a supervillain, even if they got close AND Jonathan reformed. 

But it’s notable that Jonathan’s fear toxin has actually given him a more honest look into Bruce’s psyche than he would ever purposefully give to people who aren’t close family members. And by “close family members” I again pretty much just mean Alfred. Unfortunately for Bruce, nothing forces emotional transparency like mind altering drugs. Fortunately for Jonathan, nothing forces emotional transparency like mind altering drugs! Not that I’m recommending that anyone drug a romantic partner into being honest with them. But Jonathan is a trained psychiatrist, so I assume his psychological know-how combined with insights gleaned from the dozens of “sessions” he’s had with Batman in the past would leave him more prepared than most to decipher the mystery that is Bruce Wayne. (@heroes-etc: riddler is SEETHING.)

Jonathan meanwhile is more than capable of putting together a clandestine scheme, but in respect to himself he’s actually pretty straightforward. Though his driving motivation in this continuity gets more and more complicated over time, from the early 90’s “I just like fear” to the early 2000’s “my Granny tortured me with birds when I was a child and now I’m obsessed with inspiring the same fear and submission she forced on me onto others,” what doesn’t change is his willingness to monologue about it to anyone who’s listening.

Also, anything that Jonathan is unable or unwilling to go into detail on, Bruce is more than capable of puzzling out himself. In Scarecrow: Year One he successfully tracks down Jonathan’s old home to recover and read through Granny Keeney’s diary, and after Scarecrow’s Master of Fear origin was published, it’s clear that Bruce has done his research on Jonathan’s childhood. There’s even a (presumably unintentionally) hilarious scene where Bruce pauses mid-rescue of a man that Jonathan has kidnapped and traumatized with fear toxin to lecture him on having bullied Jon in high school.

Is this really the time, Bruce???

(@heroes-etc: oh 100% he nailed that timing.)

13. When do they realise they should get together?

Well, circling back to Tower of Babel, it’s revealed when Ra’s al Ghul has Talia steal Bruce’s contingency plans for defeating the Justice League that Bruce has “borrowed” Scarecrow’s fear toxin in case he has to take down Aquaman.

This was back when Scarecrow had a number of different toxins that induced different phobias, or made people hallucinate hyper-specific nightmare scenarios (such as “being eaten alive by roaches from the inside,” for some terrible reason). Batman notes in his contingency files that Scarecrow has already done the work for him; presumably Jonathan had already designed a formula to induce hydrophobia, so all Bruce had to do was steal a vial of it from a crime scene.

(The sentence “Why not make him incapacitate himself... perhaps through fear?” alone is like 90% of why I think these men would get along like burlap on fire if they ever actually cooperated on something. Also, unrelated, but the polaroid of Jonathan he has in the Aquaman file is weirdly adorable.)

Bruce’s plan for Arthur is incredibly effective, and notably also Bruce’s only contingency that isn’t either inherently lethal or a ruthlessly sociopathic betrayal of emotional vulnerabilities that had been revealed to him in trust and friendship (RIP Kyle Rayner).

(Notably, Bruce’s plans for Kyle and several other leaguers directly involve using their worst fears against them, even without a fear toxin conveniently tailored for this purpose. Bruce just really likes using fear as a weapon against people.)

After Tower of Babel, Bruce obviously needed to create new contingencies, since the whole point is that they were secret plans that no one could see coming. In canon, Bruce goes on to create the A.I. satellite Brother Eye for this purpose (which backfires even worse than his first set of contingency plans, because of course it does). But I think an interesting alternative could have been Bruce tapping Jonathan for more toxin strands tailored to taking down the Justice League. If Bruce Wayne offered to pay Scarecrow’s way out of Arkham in order to develop formulas that could neutralize the world’s most powerful superheroes, is there any way that Jonathan would turn him down? I mean, obviously he would plan on betraying Wayne at some point, and Bruce would similarly be working against Jonathan’s best interests. But maybe if they set aside their “who’s scarier” dick measuring contest to work together for once, they could come to recognize their shared passion: scaring the shit of people.

Also, the Jonathan in this continuity really likes books. And you know what’s a reliably sustainable source of books that can’t be confiscated by the authorities? Dating Bruce Wayne. The manor alone probably has an insane amount of rare books that have been hoarded by his family over the years. It’s like a weird reversal of the Beauty and the Beast, where the rude rich guy who gives a library to the love interest he may or may not have technically kidnapped is the pretty one.

21. Where do they get nervous about going with one another?

If they were dating, I’m guessing Jonathan wouldn’t want to go anywhere in public with Bruce at all. Bruce Wayne is a celebrity bachelor, and celebrity bachelors get a lot of attention, and people who take celebrity bachelors off the market get a lot of NEGATIVE attention. The public reaction to Bruce settling into a committed relationship with anyone would be the kind of weirdly resentful gossipy judgement that the girlfriends of famous princes or actors or musicians always get from tabloids and entertainment television, but in Jonathan’s case it would be a million times worse. Not just because he’s a supervillain, because if there’s any town that would expect its most eligible bachelor to eventually date a supervillain, it’s Gotham. But more specifically because “ugly social outcast” is one of Scarecrow’s most enduring character traits. Not exactly the traditional trophy wife. And though Jonathan’s Scarecrow identity seems to distance him from a lot of the shame he suffered growing up, I’m guessing that the kind of spiteful vitriol that would follow him anywhere he accompanied Bruce would at the least bring back some very unwanted memories.

Bruce probably doesn’t have the same discomfort Jonathan would with being seen together in public. He doesn’t care if people think Bruce Wayne is insane or lacking in judgement as long as they don’t think he’s Batman, and I’m sure he’d find a way to spin “dating a man who prefers to dress exclusively in burlap” into something appropriately characteristic of playboy idiocy. But while he'd definitely respect Jonathan's wishes to stay out of the public sphere, he would probably enjoy any opportunity to bring Scarecrow into Gotham high society, since his presence would definitely shake up a party, and Bruce is generally extremely bored at any social event where he doesn’t have anyone to snark with. And with Jonathan’s scathing wit as entertainment, Bruce might one day fulfill Alfred’s wish and actually make it through an intermission sometime.

I’d say that Bruce would be nervous about taking Jonathan out for “field research,” but I’m sure it would be one of Scarecrow’s requirements for any long term collaboration, so it’s something that he would have to get used to pretty quickly. He would probably endeavor to keep Jonathan away from anything that could retrigger his less healthy behaviors. On the other hand, it’s not like Bruce does that for himself, so it stands to reason that he probably wouldn’t be able to successfully control Jonathan in that regard either. 

It doesn’t help that one of Jonathan’s primary motivations in villainy is his childhood, which is... exactly the same thing that Bruce is fixated on. A significant portion of Scarecrow: Year One is the two of them waxing poetic about how similar they are in this regard. 

Relating to this, even though it might be a terrible idea, I don’t think Bruce would be able to resist encouraging Jonathan to reconnect with his mom. Bruce would never recommend for someone like Cassandra to seek out a relationship with her father, but if someone he cares about has a LIVING parent who WASN’T abusive to them? It seems unlikely that Bruce wouldn’t advocate for reconciliation. Jonathan’s dad obviously never cared about the teenage girl he knocked up or their bastard child, but Karen Keeney is a different story. DC Holiday Special ‘09 makes it clear that Jonathan was taken away from her against her will, and she’s spent a significant portion of her life wracked by guilt imagining what the woman who abused her was doing to her son.  

Ultimately she attempts to commit suicide because she feels personally responsible for every terrible thing her son has ever done, which is tragic because really she’s the only member of the Keeney family completely blameless in the creation of the Scarecrow. In Scarecrow: Year One Jonathan clearly resents her for leaving him and moving on to have another baby that she actually did keep, which I would call a really paranoid case of jumping to conclusions if it didn’t seem extremely likely that Granny Keeney told him his mother didn’t want him and left him to be tortured on purpose.

(Side note, it is REALLY weird how young Karen Keeney is depicted in Scarecrow: Year One. At times her son looks older than she is, and it doesn’t help that her second born child is an infant for some reason. Even if Jonathan is only thirty years old here, then unless she had him at younger than fourteen, she should already be in her mid-forties. Why did she only have a second child so late in life? The implication with her abusive husband is that she ended up getting trapped in a bad relationship for survival when her family kicked her out as a teenager for disgracing the family by having Jonathan. It would make way more sense for her child with him to be at least in elementary school. Also the scene would have been way more interesting if Scarecrow’s sister was old enough to talk.)

Thankfully Deadman manages to convince Karen to hold on to life long enough for someone to call 911, and she ends up surviving the suicide attempt. But were Jonathan ever to reform, it seems like reconciliation would be really healthy for both of them, since miraculously Karen still seems to care about Jonathan despite everything he’s put her through, and they’re both clearly still suffering from the after effects of Mary Keeney’s abuse. 

Bruce would be enthusiastic about this prospect for obvious reasons, although he would presumably still be nervous about the possibility of everything going terribly wrong. And even if everything went perfectly right, he would STILL be nervous, because everytime Jonathan goes to see his mother there’s a chance that she will mention the time that she kissed Batman full on the mouth. And that is not information you would ever want your psychologist boyfriend to know, unless you want to be mocked with Freudian buzzwords for the rest of your natural life. 

(...This would also count as a thing that Bruce hides from Jonathan.)

[wangxiandecoded]

Episode 3

Previous Episode | Next Episode

(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

Seeing Lan Zhan For The First Time

Ever since I saw the fanmade romcom trailer of the show, I can’t get the image of bridegroom Lan Wangji out of my head. His entry is so elegant and his presence throughout the show truly ethereal. (Wei Ying, you’re not even trying to hide those heart eyes. We get it! You’re impressed.)

Lan Zhan’s Character Growth

We only remember Lan Zhan as the guy who reserved all his emotions and smiles for Wei Ying, so rewatching the rigid, inflexible person he used to be kind of drives me crazy. Lan Zhan before he met Wei Ying started his journey as a lone, icy, untouchable snow-capped peak and by letting himself love and be loved by Wei Ying in return, the person he becomes in the end is like a warm, summery mountain shining with life and no trace of the glaciers that thawed over. His character evolution is no joke and it is only because Wei Ying’s companionship makes him more human and allows him to be the best version of himself. Lan Zhan’s arc is one of the best things in the show and the most rewarding reason to watch it.

Did I Just Meet The LOML

Lan Zhan taking note of his future soulmate showing off his intelligence right from the start. But shhh, he’s too much of a tsundere to admit that right now.

But Lan Zhan, What About The 9pm Curfew? 

Notice how Lan Zhan is up late at night waiting for Wei Ying, like a Good Obedient Boy from the Lan clan ready to catch a lawbreaker red-handed. Are we sure he has not simply mistaken his positive feelings for annoyance and found a way to spend more time with Wei Ying?

Wei Ying, my bro, I think you might be the moon in this case.

Flirting With The Law Enforcer? That’s One More Violation! 

It’s cute to watch their dynamics in the beginning, Wei Ying is already so familiar with Lan Zhan, tries to share his drink with him, teases him for the first of many times. And Lan Zhan just looks like “?????? Are you flirting with the law enforcer?! That is yet another violation of the Lan clan rules!”

Wei Ying coquettishly pushes Lan Zhan's sword into its sheath and the chase that comes next is the beginning of something monumental and exciting. 

(I understand preserving the original meaning is difficult in English translation but they really had Wei Ying call Lan Zhan inflexible only to follow it up with a beautifully choreographed fight sequence? Really?)

Wangxian’s First Meeting Is Romantic Cinematography At Its Finest

This scene right here is in my opinion, the most romantic scene to ever exist in all of fiction. If anyone tries to argue that Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are best bros, show them this scene. There is no hetero explanation for why it is so romantically shot. We have seen it countless times in fairytales. This is unmistakably the meeting of two people destined to be in love forever. It stole my breath the first time I saw it, and has done every time since. Like legit, it needs to be on top of those lists that boast the most iconic meetings in romantic history and taught in academic institutions worldwide.

First of all, a moonlit first meeting is enough to immortalize a story in our memory as being inherently romantic. But Wangxian are so effortlessly and picturesquely sword fighting (or should I say dancing?) on the rooftops, hair and clothes gently swaying to the tune of WuJi and thanks to the slow-motion closeups that make them glow like a live painting under the moonlight. 

(And surely I was not the only one who heard this random bell ringing at night and got reminded of wedding bells or the film ‘Your Name’? Lol!)  

We see that neither of them has the upper hand in the fight. This is important because it establishes they were born to be each other’s equals on the battlefield, something Zewu Jun points out later. (Just one of the many soulmate things Wangxian share.) I have no doubt Lan Zhan is freaking out wondering, who the fuck is this guy? How can he match my every strike and step without even uncapping his sword? 

In these above shots, there is a beautiful, unmissable symmetry in the way they are framed that drives it home that they are two halves of the same whole; their paths will be bound together, their perspectives will come to reflect each other. They are one and the same. The way they fight is also kind of intimate and very poetic. The super romantic backdrop and their placement shows that they are in perfect tandem and their chemistry is loud and luminous from the first time they meet. 

There is nothing straight about this scene. Not even the shot angle. Look! 

There is also something quite god-like and celestial about their meeting, like we are witnessing two prophesied immortal beings whose encounter is going to change the fate of the universe. And does it not, indeed?

I think I heard the moon longingly sigh in this scene because she felt so single. Honestly, understandable. It’s so maddening how two soulmates meeting for the first time can turn out to be this iconic, beautiful, brilliant, breathtaking and every other word you can think of. (We’re lucky Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan are used to dancing, the fight sequences are all so graceful. *chef’s kiss*)

I feel like this one scene reduced every straight romance I’ve ever seen to ashes. I’m honestly curious, can anyone outdo this in the future, gay or not? It has become The Standard for first meetings. I envy the talented, creative minds that envisioned and executed it.

TL;DR : The whole scene is drenched with a romantic field of vision meant specifically for the audience to swoon over.

“Lan Zhan!”

Wei Ying drops one of his two precious pots of Emperor’s Smile because Lan Zhan attacked them. Most people would just be mad in this situation but it's the first time Wei Ying calls him "Lan Zhan”. I wonder what led Wei Ying to have such an informality with Lan Zhan, who didn't consider him his friend until much later. It could be that it’s just who they are, two people with opposite personalities. But we don't see Wei Ying exhibit this closeness with strangers and yet he's whining Lan Zhan's name in that classic style of his, right from the first night they meet. Adorable! (Lan Zhan who owes him two bottles of Emperor’s Smile for breaking them spends the rest of his life buying them for Wei Ying.. In case you needed a reason to cry.)

Breaking The Rules & Breaking The Barriers To Lan Zhan’s Heart

Wei Ying actively criticizes the Lan clan’s rules and finds their teaching unreasonable. He thinks drinking Emperor’s Smile when he’s sitting on the roof technically doesn’t count as being “inside” the Cloud Recesses where alcohol is banned. A small detail but it shows Wei Ying’s gift of seeing through the grey areas in morality. It is a trait that ultimately influences Lan Zhan to shed the hard and fast ideas of orthodoxy he was raised on and share Wei Ying’s quest for justice. This makes both of them the only people inside the world of The Untamed who are able to see the deep-seated problems in the existing system and question them. Their love story is inextricably tied with rewriting the laws of their world and if that does not make The Untamed the most revolutionary romance to ever exist, I don’t know what does. 

Lan Zhan Really Just Cares A Lot

Turns out Lan Zhan didn’t let the Yunmeng Jiang clan stay out in the dark after all. Love how he’s Gay Gripping his sword in panic and backing away from Wei Ying because he doesn't want him to know he's a good person whose heart is in the right place. You know, because that's a horrible reputation for his tsundere persona to have. Zewu Jun takes one for the team and blows his cover, which becomes a common occurrence in the show. Wei Ying is also quick to apologize to him like, “I had a good feeling about you!” when we’ve seen he rarely does that with disciples from other clans. 

President In Action

The conversation between Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun needs no analysis and the latter’s triumphant smirk in the end when Lan Zhan walks off is all the evidence you need that He Knows What’s Up. I love how Zewu Jun probably sits around like, "I have to personally do something or my dumbass brother is going to spend his whole life alone, when he's clearly met his soulmate and is too blind to admit it." Thank you, President of the Wangxian club. We do not deserve you.

What Did Wei Ying Mean?

Wei Ying says all the female suitors from all the clans admire Lan Zhan without knowing how cold and rigid he really is, and he doesn’t complete his sentence because Lan Zhan uses the silencing charm on him. What did he mean by this? What were you going to do, Wei Ying?! 

Episode 3 gives us insight into the inception of their romance and we see every moment since the beginning has been tailor-made to tell the audience this is going to be a love story set against fantasy-driven, action-packed odds in ancient China. 

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

You and Me, We Don’t Make Sense (But No One Does)

Ao3

Summary: Roman loved the idea of romance, and everything that was attached to it. Romance itself, on the other hand... well, it wasn’t really his thing And, despite what anyone else might say, that was alright. Warnings: Kind of aphobia (of the aromantic kind), self-doubt (specifically of one’s romantic orientation) Pairings: QPR Royality Notes: Inspired by this post from @notveryglittery

    Roman loved the idea of romance.

    It was, after all, an extremely alluring concept. Buying great bouquets for those you love? Date nights tailored to your combined interests, spent just with each other? Grand tales of just what romantic love could overcome? Soft and sweet kisses filled with adoration? Roman loved all of it and more.

    Roman, however, didn’t care much for actual romance.

    It was to his benefit he wasn’t even certain what romantic love was, aside from what other people told him. It wasn’t like he necessarily had anything against romantic relationships, they just… never seemed right for him.

    The result of this collision of his love of concept but dislike of execution often resulted in his being almost excessively affectionate with his friends (of which he had many- he disliked romantic relationships, not people), family, and even strangers at times. Though he really should stop interacting with strangers like that. In his experience, a lot of them got the wrong impression.

    For an example, Roman had to look little farther than less than an hour ago. He had been buying flowers for his partner, Patton (they were cupioromantic, which had made them and Roman even more of a perfect match than they naturally were- though unfamiliar with romance itself, they were both very well-versed in the language of it) when he noticed two women giggling and clearly talking about him from a little ways across the shop. From what he could tell of their conversation, the giggling was nervous as they tried to convince the other to go talk to him.

    Roman was, in all honesty, flattered. He considered himself to be exceptionally pretty (a point wholeheartedly supported by Patton), and moments like these reminded him that he was not the only person with that opinion. He smiled smugly as he finished making his selection, waiting to see if the women would figure themselves out or not.

    It wasn’t until he had finished making his purchase that one of them did approach him. She tapped his shoulder lightly, and Roman smiled, putting on his handsomest grin before he turned towards her.

    “May I help you?” He asked her politely. At Roman’s attention, her cheeks coloured slightly, and Roman couldn’t help but feel proud that, yes, he still had it.

    She awkwardly gestured towards the bouquet of red gaillardias and blue freesias. “For someone special?”

    “They are.” Roman admitted easily. “Though if I gave them to you, I would still be telling the truth.”

    The woman giggled a bit, flushing even more. “You sure are a charmer.”

    “It helps that you are so charming yourself, ma’dam.”

    She smiled at that, looking down in a poor attempt to hide her ever-rising blush. “Hey, listen… I was wondering… if you’d like to maybe… go out sometime…?”

    Roman kept his own smile up, tone still light as he answered, “Apologies, for as delightful as that sounds, I do not date. I’m certain any man would be lucky to have you, however.”

    Normally, that was where it ended- the woman (or man or enby) would be a bit abashed at being turned down, but they’d still be smiling, and hopefully feeling very confident in themselves after Roman complimented them, saying thank you and wishing him a good day as they headed off. Roman would go on with his day as well, feeling happy himself at getting the chance to make someone’s day at least a little better.

    But this woman seemed as if she was looking to be an exception. “You don’t date?” She asked, sounding confused. “Are you… are you married?”

    “I am not.” Roman said (though he did hope one day his answer to that question would be ‘yes’).

    “Then… why don’t you date?”

    Roman forced himself to keep his smile up. Conversation rarely veered in this direction, but when it did, it was… uncomfortable. So few people actually knew what he meant when he said he was bellusromantic, and explaining it always seemed to take longer than it should. “Not my thing.” He settled on, knowing it sounded lame but not in the mood to truly get into it. “Now, if you do excuse me, I have somewhere to be. Have a good day.”

    He made his way to the door as quickly as he could without looking suspicious- uncomfortable questions aside, he didn’t want the woman to think he was fleeing her or something similar- ignoring the fact that he was almost certain the woman was watching him as he left. He was halfway across the shop when he heard the woman’s friend come over to her, their conversation quiet but just loud enough that Roman could hear it-

    “So, did you get his number?”

    “No… he said he… doesn’t date.”

    “That’s… weird.”

    “He was weird. He was being so romantic, too… it doesn’t make sense.”

    Luckily, for Roman’s sake, he had reached the door by then, and was out into the world, the women’s voices and conversation out of his hearing. The words he had caught, however, stuck in his mind, bouncing around in his head as he headed for his car.

    He wasn’t weird or nonsensical! Liking romance but not wanting to be romantic with anyone was normal, and real, and perfectly sensical, and he knew that because that’s who he was, and how he had felt for as long as he could remember, and there was a name and a flag for it and everything! Some random lady’s opinion didn't change that!

    So why did Roman have to spend five minutes just sitting in his car before he drove home, holding the wheel and lightly hitting his head against it as her words echoed in his head?

    ~~

    “Patton, sweetest, darling, dearest, I’m home!” Roman called out as he closed the door behind him, trying to infuse his voice with all the enthusiasm he had had before the interaction in the flower shop.

    Almost immediately, Patton was there, with bright colours from the entire rainbow and then some smeared across their hands, arms, and face, their apron even more colourful. They were smiling just as brightly, and despite his preoccupations, Roman’s heart would always lift at that smile.

    “You’re home!” Patton said excitedly, eagerly rushing up to Roman but stopping just an inch from him. They smiled sheepishly, raising their painted hands. “Guess I shouldn’t touch you, huh?”

    Roman smiled. “My clothes- and cheeks- are washable.”

    Patton let out a happy squeak, immediately squishing Roman’s cheeks between their hands and kissing him. “I missed you.” Patton said in between a second kiss. “Missed your sweetness and prettiness and handsomeness and loveliness and-”

    “Shhh, love bug, or I’m going to die before you get to see my surprise.” Roman whined, leaning his forehead against Patton’s, trying to keep them from kissing him again and completely stealing his voice.

    “There is no greater surprise than that of waking up every morning to find you once more beside me.” Patton said, hands slipping away from Roman’s cheeks to loop around his back instead, holding him close. “I am certain a vision such as yourself should have vanished by now.”

    Roman’s cheeks quickly turned a shade of red bright enough to rival the dash of red Patton had smeared on their cheeks. “For an angel, dearheart, you are being very impish.”

    “That’s. Because. I. Love. You!” Patton said, covering Roman’s face in kisses to punctuate every word. They giggled when Roman made a strangled noise at the affection, clearly satisfied at having broken their partner.

    “Take your surprise before I melt into a puddle.” Roman managed to say after a moment, pulling back slightly from Patton and moving the hand he had hidden behind his back in front of him to reveal the bouquet to Patton.

    Patton’s eyes lit up at the sight of the flowers, shining so radiantly Roman was surprised the glare didn’t catch on their glasses. They gratefully accepted the flowers, smelling them before looking up at Roman once more, still smiling. “They’re so pretty!” They commented excitedly.

    “Just like you, sweetheart.” Roman said easily, relaxedly, watching as Patton’s cheeks blushed red immediately.

    “Now look at who’s making who melt.” Patton accused, holding the flowers up in a useless attempt to hide their blush.

    “I am simply telling you the truth.” Roman defended, grinning as he pulled the flowers down and returned the favor of covering Patton’s face in kisses (though he was careful to not kiss the still drying paint).

    Patton giggled, allowing themself to be drowned in Roman’s affections for a moment before they pulled back. “I need to put these in water.” They said hastily, quickly rushing off towards the kitchen to avoid Roman grabbing their wrist and stopping them for more kisses.

    He still followed them however, coming to a stop in the kitchen doorway and leaning against it as he watched Patton bustle about, pulling out a nice vase and filling it with water before working to free the flowers of their plastic sheath. He sighed as he crossed his arms, happy to watch Patton work. Their golden hair had been pulled into a ponytail, to avoid getting paint in it, but it was still stained with blues and pinks. They slid about the kitchen in mismatched kitten socks as they cheerily completed their task.

    It was all simple things that he noticed, Roman supposed, noticing how Patton’s hair was put up or how they moved or the fact that the back of their right arm had clearly been purposefully smeared with a gradient of colours from purple to pink that blended into lines of grey-purple-white-pink beside it. But he liked the simple things. He loved noticing them. He loved noticing everything about Patton.

    The vase full, Patton moved it to their table, Roman switching from the kitchen doorway to the one that separated kitchen and dining room, once more leaning on it as he watched Patton place the vase and drop the flowers in. Immediately after dropping them, Patton pulled two back out- one gaillardia and one freesia. Roman smiled as they immediately went to work at tucking them behind their ears.

    Roman had seen that coming- he always picked brightly coloured flowers for a reason. Patton loved the colours, would slowly pick through the entire bouquet, decorating their hair with one of each flower until there were no more and Roman was out to buy more. It was his favorite part about buying flowers for Patton- the sweetness and closeness of the traditionally romantic gesture was just an extra benefit-

    He was weird. He was being so romantic, too… it doesn’t make sense.

    Roman closed his eyes, grimacing at the memory as he pressed his head against the doorway. He really hoped that mental link wouldn’t last long. Because it was stupid, really, completely stupid, stupid stupid stupid.

    He looked at Patton again. Patton. His partner. His beautiful lovely gorgeous amazing partner, who he loved with more than all of his heart, who he loved to kiss and hold and shower in affection, who he had a perfectly sensical relationship with regardless of the fact that it was filled with romantic actions but no actual romance because romantic attraction was for suckers anyways-

    “Honey?”

    Roman blinked, surprised to suddenly find that Patton was in front of him, frowning softly and watching Roman with concern. He plastered on a smile. “Yes, sweet pea?”

    Patton tilted their head to the side, raising one hand to cup Roman’s cheek. “You’re distracted. Something’s wrong.” Patton commented. “What’s wrong, darling?”

    Roman’s smile softened at Patton’s worry, and he placed his hands on Patton’s shoulders reassuringly. “I’m alright, sunshine. Nothing’s wrong.”

    “You’re lying.” Patton said, frown deepening. “Something happened while you were out. Did someone say something to you?”

    Roman chuckled drily. “You’re too good at guessing games.”

    “What did they say?” Patton pressed, ignoring the weak joke.

    “Nothing important.”

    “It’s bothering you. It’s important.”

    “Just something stupid- an offhanded comment, nothing more, it’s really not anything to worry about, love-”

    Patton’s second hand came up to cup Roman’s other cheek, shutting him up and forcing his attention on Patton. “Tell me.” Patton begged. “Please, baby, tell me.”

    Roman tried to resist for a moment, really not wanting to burden Patton with anything, but his partner was very convincing, especially when they were using not only puppy eyes but worried puppy eyes on him, and soon enough he gave in with a sigh and, “Just a side comment at the flower shop- was just paying a woman some compliments when I had to tell her I don’t date- she called it- me- weird, said it didn’t make sense… it’s not like I haven’t heard it before, I just-”

    “I’m going to fight her.”

    “Dearest-”

    “I’m going to fight her so hard she won’t even-” Patton glared at the ground, their face looking adorably angry, before they looked back at Roman, expression now a mix of anger (directed elsewhere) and sympathy (directed just at Roman). “I’m so sorry, honey, you shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

    “It’s nothing, really, Patton, I can deal with it-”

    “But you shouldn’t have to!” Patton exclaimed vehemently. “You were just trying to be nice and she was being rude and wrong. You’re not weird, you’re beautiful and kind and sweet and fun and absolutely lovely.”

    Roman smiled softly. “Thank you-”

    “And of course we don’t make sense!” Patton continued, on a roll and unwilling to stop. “No couples make sense! People say they do, but they don’t! Romance is weird! Relationships are weird! People are weird! None of us make sense! At all! It’s stupid to expect us to! It’s stupid that you had to deal with today, and that you’ll probably have to deal with it later!”

    Patton pushed themself even closer to Roman, pressing their forehead against his as they stared into his eyes. “What we have is beautiful and rich and wonderful and unique, and I love it and I love you and I wouldn’t ever trade it for something as boring as something that ‘makes sense.’”

    Roman’s smile grew at that, completely genuine, and he pressed his eyes closed for a moment to chase away the few tears that were trying to escape. “I love you.”

    Patton smiled as they tilted their head, moving so they could pull Roman into a sweet kiss. Roman’s arms moved so that he could embrace Patton while they kissed, and Patton willingly obliged him by stepping forward so that they were almost completely pressed up against him.

    Eventually, Patton pulled away, still smiley. “You’ve got paint all over your face, you know.” They said, already starting to giggle. “Makes you look adorable.”

    “You’re adorable too.” Roman returned. “But you don’t need the paint for that.”

    Patton laughed at that, a light and soft and pretty sound that made Roman want to kiss them forever. He knew he couldn’t get away with forever, to his greatest disappointment, but he did manage to get in another full minute of just covering Patton’s face in little kisses, fast little pecks that only made Patton laugh and blush more, both which were factors that only increased Roman’s need to kiss them.

    Finally, however, Patton pushed Roman away, still grinning even as they lightly scolded, “That’s enough out of you. We’re not going to get anything done if I let you keep kissing me forever.”

    “Oh, who cares about doing things?” Roman asked teasingly, trying to steal another kiss only to have Patton dodge him. “I’d be happy to kiss you til I couldn’t.”

    “I know you would.” Patton said, moving their hands to hold Roman’s arms as they leaned even further backwards. “Which is why I really have to be the one to stop this or we’ll be here until you fall over and I’m left to nurse you back to health.”

    “That sounds wonderful to me.”

    Patton shook their head. “You’re reckless in the pursuit of love.” They said.

    “No, I’m not.” Roman argued. “I am reckless in the pursuit of you. You just happen to be my love, and my heart, and my sunshine, and my whole entire world-”

    “This is what I mean by unique!” Patton said happily. “Sometimes love is the universe falling for the sun.”

    Roman blushed. “Oh, that’s not fair.”

    “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” Patton told him. “I can try and make it up to you, though.”

    “Hmm? How so?”

    “With food and entertainment and cuddles and if you’re very lucky I might even give you kissing rights back.”

    “I like the sound of that.” Roman admitted. “What are we watching?”

    Patton hummed. “Up to you. We could watch Moana, or some Masterchef Junior if you’re looking for something quicker.”

    “I like the sound of both.” Roman admitted, smiling at Patton. “Can I have both?”

    Patton smiled back. “Yes, but only because you’re so charming.”

    “I’ll take it.” Roman said. “What’re we eating?”

    “I was going to make pasta-”

    “Too long.” Roman cut him off with a whine. “Wanna get to cuddling.”

    Patton chuckled. “Snacks, then?”

    Roman nodded. “Yes, but only if we get them together so I don’t have to let go of you.”

    “You’re clingy.” Patton joked, but they still held onto Roman’s hand as they made their way back into the kitchen, quickly pulling a bag of chips out of the pantry and some sodas out of the fridge. “This good?”

    “If it means we can be wrapped around each other like we’ll never let go on the couch sooner, than yes.”

    Patton just laughed again and allowed Roman to tug them both over to the couch. He flopped onto it first, beckoning for Patton to follow, whining when Patton put Moana into the Blu-Ray first and set down the snacks before coming to sit down as well.

    Of course, they weren’t sitting long, Roman wrapping around them and pulling them over so that they could properly cuddle stretched out over the couch. He kicked at the blanket spread over the back of the couch, pulling it over so that it landed mostly over them. He nestled his head into the crook of Patton’s neck as Patton turned the movie on, dropping the remote and leaving it to play as they leaned back, getting closer to Roman.

    Soon enough, Patton turned their head to look at Roman’s face, smiling when they found Roman already looking at them, himself smiling softly and fondly.

    “Hey, Patton?” Roman asked, quietly.

    “Yes?”

    “You know I love you more than I have ever loved anything or anyone, right? No romo though.”

    Patton chuckled lightly, managing to bend their head just enough to press a kiss to the side of Roman’s mouth. “I know. And it’s okay. I love you just as much… and then some.”

    “Cheater.”

    “Oh, hush. I’m your cheater, and you know you love me.”

    Roman grinned. “Yes I do. And you know what?”

    He bent his head so he could return a similar kiss on the edge of Patton’s lips. “Loving you? It’s the most sensible thing in the world.”

[scoundrels-in-love]

for the ask meme: 9, 32 & 49 please!

It’s only been 10 days... It’s only a guess which ask game you sent this for...! ^^; (I am basing it on the fact I read the questions and mused about them for this whole time so I am probably right about the game.) @nossbean

9. What are your favorite fanfics?

Oh no. Oh no. I could and should write POSTS upon POSTS about this.

But I haven’t, because I don’t have the energy to. So you get a cheat version of some of my random favorites from my last pages of my AO3 history. And few special shout outs.

@angel-deux-writes Worth is a wholeass gem and I haven’t commented yet, but I binged it basically today (with exception of first chapter) and I can’t stop yelling about it internally, because the way she says things!! She always has some of my favorite Brienne characterization I get so envious over. There is strength and pride in it, and vulnerability and fear and the acknowledgment that her self-loathing is unfounded yet how hard it is to defend yourself, even knowing all that. I could write essays about it and Angel’s stories in general. Anything by her is a treasure trove, truly.

@samirant Rush Me All Night Long is a fascinating concept, so very well executed and absolutely captivating. Makes me go slack-jawed with awe with how seamless it is. And beyond the craftsmanship of the story form itself, the contents are absolutely epic, too. Intrigue, growth of relationship, dash of humor that is right up my alley, lot of good other characters with their wonderful insights... Nothing to add or take away. Just great. And you KNOW you should check rest of her writing out, too. You won’t regret it.

@ajoblotofjunk is back with another subtly, but powerfully in-depth world story with Baby I Will. How many professions has she gotten degree in already? Because the way she weaves art of playing in bars is so organic. And oh, the connection between Jaime and Brienne... Electrifying, a storm that starts as static sparks as they brush past each other. And I can’t wait to watch it grow. (Also shout out to her absolutely beyond epic gift to me, Petrichor. Which is mindblowingly great and written at haste I cannot comprehend. It couldn’t be more tailored to me and I tear up just thinking about it.)

LadyRhiyana’s Stray Sparks II is the perfect example why I tell someone at least once a week “I wish I could LadyRhiyana this”. Her absolutely amazing skill to capture a whole setting, a whole world of emotions in sometimes as few as 5 to 10 sentences (and not the 30 word sort!) is just... Mesmerizing. I admire it so much and am typically absolutely enamored by her stories. Crossover is also in my history and I am absolutely head-over-heels for it.

@kurikaesu-haru Thirsty is the most endearing, captivating way to combine the two meanings of the word and I adore it to pieces. It’s fun and emotional and hot, and everything it could possibly need to be and then some, in best way possible. And her works contain more and more of gold mines, truly.

@firesign23 is a treasure, to this fandom and to me in particular, for many reasons. But her skill to devastate me with short stories is truly something else.  Odd Socks (link to one of my favorite of the lot, but do give them all a read if you haven’t!) is what I have in my history, but I rec her as a writer 1000%. Her prompt fills are always poignant and not shy of ache and I can only marvel at them all. But also how could I miss out on mentioning her two breathtaking recent stories for fic exchange? Hold Steady is a Journey without ever leaving Winterfell, but the miles traveled by weary, worried, longing hearts in it... Oof. And, of course, I have to mention by hearts and hands made fast because it’s for me and it made me cry real tears more than once (!) and actually yell in real life, like no other story. Real and complicated as the characters deserve to be told, painful and comforting, absolutely breathtaking in the prose... I could rant for days, truly. And truly, wherever you look at her work, you’ll find more of it.

@aviss Skin Deep is just gem, gem, gem. Am I biased because she wrote for me, in a sense? Maybe. But she ACED it in ways I can barely comprehend. Everything I could wish for in the concept is there and more. Sweet pining, absolute besottery and realistic realizations and then hot, earnest resolutions... What a gem. As is rest of her works, really!

32. Past or present tense? 

I used to be such a past tense snob. Nothing else for me, no sir. But now I write almost exclusively in present tense. I can’t tell when the shift happened, I think when I was 20 or few years older than that, and I don’t know why, I think I read a good fic, like really good one, and also was trying to bypass my writer’s block by switching it up. And I found a certain freedom in it. A sense that it makes sense for me to go deeper, to be in present turmoil and wax poetics about it for few paragraphs. Because it’s currently happening, instead of retelling if something that has been. It freed me more in past tense, too, though.

It’s odd I don’t remember how and why the shift happened, almost makes me feel sad.

Nowadays I mostly write in past tense because I get too caught up in flashback sort of sequences and can’t make it grammatically correct anymore so I switch everything to past tense. Tomorrow (with you) is prime example.

49. Where do you draw inspiration from? 

Anything. The other day, I was bitterly laughing with a friend I could write a piece about stain on floor, create whole 1-3k word story about someone thinking about the stain, etc. Doesn’t matter if it has funny shape or not, known origin or not.

Most often, though, it’s prompts, it’s song lyrics, it’s some kind of thought/belief I have for character that I want to express/see them through some kind of event in way I think they would. Sometimes, it’s specific setting or watching something. Like, there was one (1) almost head-kiss in a kdrama with secret identities and I created a whole 10k word worth story idea off of it... Sometimes, it’s honestly even just a dumb, dumb post. But yes, music/feelings/prompts, I’d say are the main thing.

And as for inspiration drawn for writing itself... That’s a difficult question for me, right now. In kindest, non-rambly way I’d probably say what other people have lived and written.

Send me fanfic question?<3

[gloriousxdarkness]

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

1. what does your muse smell like ?

“Evergreen, and blood, and the air before a storm.” 

“That cemetery bouquet. Like sweet poison…“

she smells earthy and floral, and if you’re close enough (Or have hyper-senses) there’s a lingering, coppery hint of blood. the average person might think the metallic smell is coming from her jewelry, if they notice at all, or subconsciously perceive it and think danger. If she’s been running around she’ll smell like sweat and grime of whatever city she’s in. As for her chosen scents, I rather like Wild Poppy by NEST for her (ty @thatslayer​) which is clean and has a “cloudy-day” kind of feel. But as Elektra is not married to one liquor, or car, or city, I imagine she is not married to a single perfume, either. 

In college she may have played with scents as a way of teasing Matt, or gone without if they bothered him. She likes the way a person naturally smells, anyway.

2. what do your muse’s hands feel like ?

It hurts when one cracks across your face, lol. 

Elektra normally wears gloves when she’s out and about, and she has a particular high sense of physical care for herself. She doesn’t really have a job, so in the daytime it’s easy enough to spend some time and money on private doctors, expensive creams, etc. which helps her stay camouflaged in high society.

Given all that, I’d say her hands feel unexpectedly rough, for how she appears. They are callused from constant use— swordwielding on the reg, grip strength for parkour— and there are marks/shadowing from bloodying her knuckles all her life. She’s scarred her palms from a katana digging into them, specifically. But she rarely touches someone non-violently for them to find out.

3. what does your muse usually eat in a day ?

Elektra doesn’t cook. If she ever does, you can serve it to your enemies. She drinks coffee but not to excess, probably drinks more tea for the calming effect and lower caffeine levels. She probably eats several light meals throughout the day, more of a snacker than a sit down to a meal kinda person. It keeps her energy up while not feeling too heavy. Fighting makes her hungry, though, so she’ll chow down after that. She orders expensive takeout and pre-made meals. She’s indulgent, too, and not especially picky. She’ll munch on special baby pickles and caviar or diner food and cheap coffee with equal appreciation, loves pie, and her favorite snack is knife cheese.

4. does your muse have a good singing voice ?

her voice is quite pleasant to listen to. like warm oil when she’s pleased, and her accent tends to soften even the sharper things she says. there’s no point of reference for her singing voice in the show, though there’s a little bit in the comics— I imagine she can carry a tune but her talents lie elsewhere.

5. does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks ?

depends what you call a bad habit. In conversation, her tendency to withdraw into silence can kill. I think she drinks more when she’s uncomfortable with what she’s doing, but committed to doing it anyway. Oh, and yeah, she has a little bad habit of flagrantly breaking the law for fun. She doesn’t kill for fun, even if she sometimes has fun doing it, but she’ll do any number of other crimes for sheer kicks. Stealing cars and breaking & entering being top favorites. Adrenaline chaser. She can be controlling, doling out information as-needed (or as pressed, which I encourage). It’s in part for fun and in part so the other person can’t tell her no. She usually needs someone to tell her no. She isn’t especially trustworthy, because while you can ask her to play by your rules, even if she agrees she will ultimately do whatever she thinks she needs to later, even at the cost of damaging a relationship. While she’s socially graceful in public, she is awful at maintaining relationships and making friends. She is best at being ‘work partners.’

Nervous ticks— she’s in pretty good control of herself, but sometimes she rolls her thumb over her fingers, kinda toys with her hands, avoids your eyes/face, gets unnaturally still and you get the sense she’s holding back. Out on missions she can get panicky and antsy when things aren’t going right. She has this ‘close to death isnt this exciting im not scared’ laugh/smile thing too going on. She would be shaking and trying to keep hold of herself, not show her fear. Resurrecting stripped her of a lot of human-ness, but over time I believe it would come back, to a degree. The longer it’s been since she died, the better.

6. what does your muse usually look like / wear ?

Elektra almost always looks put together. For her “professional/fancy life” - skirt or dress and heels. She favors high necklines, soft blouses, and flatters her legs. She likes leather, gold jewelry, reds and blacks. Elektra has money and you can tell, all her clothes are tailored to her and the material looks expensive and pleasant on the skin, in that ‘dry clean only’ steamed and pressed kind of way. It’s old money— style over flash. Her hair is normally long, straight and often up in a ponytail.

Her wealth is part of a mirage, though— she’s actually not that picky about any of it. She just can have it, so she does. She’ll sleep in the shorts and a tank she just fought in no problem. If she’s not in ‘fancy’ mode she wears jeans, sweaters, button ups.

7. Is your muse affectionate?  How much?  How so?

it depends. Elektra is shown to be quite affectionate with Matt and to a point, with Stick. As much as he allowed her to be. She loves to reach for her partner, hold hands, touch their cheek, forehead press, and it means so much to her to receive the same. A romantic partner gets her affection more readily than a friend. Outside of romance, she adores getting a friend’s love ‘forced’ upon her, even if she’s kind of uncomfortable giving it, because it shows how she feels, especially around others. If she’s holding onto you or touching you, she feels very close to you.

I think she’s affectionate in other ways, though. Like she’s such a doer that she’d see a loved one has a problem or discomfort and just... fix it. Or try. Matt loves her silk sheets? Now he has some. You need money? Okay here. Having trouble with that stubborn witness? I’ll go intimidate him! for you! It’s not always the right response, but if she has the means to ‘help’, she usually will. Like Matt doesn’t take care of himself or let himself indulge and she would just... do what he’s not doing for himself, or make him do it, and kind of... take the blame, in that sense? It’s not his fault he can’t martyr himself if she’s forcing him to take this money or enjoy this essential oil bubble bath and massage. “Wear this beautiful overpriced suit for me, I’m the one who has to look at you.” Andd keep it. That kind of thing.

8. what position does your muse sleep in ?

Usually curled up on her side. She moves around a little in the night and sometimes ends up on her back.

9. could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room ?

Not if she’s trying to be quiet. Elektra can move and fight in total silence. She walked out on Matt in heels and he didn’t even hear her. NINJA.

Tagged by: @murdcck​ Tagging: @thatslayer, @phdinrage, @soulavenged, @timemovesonandon, @xsecondstringslayerx, @enduringlystoic, @iwannadogirlystuff, @wandyrlust, @hepunished, @kinginhismind, @artificiallyimplantedmemories, @lordofsparkles​

[wickedbarnes]

Guns and Roses (Pt. 1) | John Wick x Reader

Part 2

PROMPT: With Helen's passing, the infamous assassin, John Wick is finding ways to recover and find meaning to his life once again. It wasn't until he comes across the new flower shop downtown that he realized he will do whatever it takes to grip onto the tiny leverage of salvation that's wearing sundresses with flowers in her hair.

THEME: Non-Con. DubCon. Obsession. Dark!John x Innocent/Naive!Reader. Abduction. Lots of smut. Don't read if any of these make you uncomfortable.

NOTE: This is the newly reconstructed plot for Beauty and The Beast that I had put on hold for many weeks. I hope this makes up for the inconvenience I've made for putting that story on hiatus. In this fic, Helen Wick was killed rather than dying of an illness that's why John is taking it way harder than in the movies.

John remembers it like yesterday. It haunts him in his dreams every night, making it harder to fall asleep everytime. The bags under his eyes were the constant reminder of his sleepless nights. He doesn't even remember the last time he even slept properly. He only slept peacefully when he was with Helen. But now that she was gone, sleep felt more like a chore that he couldn't really finish.

A sigh had left his lips as he put the empty mug in the sink, deciding to just wash it later on when he gets home. Home. Is this even home anymore? John looks around the house that he had built specifically for Helen and him and noticed how gloomy it was despite how classy and refreshing it looked. It was empty and quiet and... and it lacked the energetic aura that it once had.

John closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He needed to stop moping around and finish his tasks for today. After Helen's death, John had found himself going right back into the world he had worked hard to get out of. What was the point anyway? It was all he had left. Might as well die working surrounded by his enemies rather than die alone.

But then again, he'd die lonely either way.

John solemnly got ready. It was Helen's death anniversary, he had to look his best. He got dressed in a fine tailored suit. A brown one, for a change. The same suit that Helen loved so much. John also made sure to pack an extra black suit on his way to the Continental. He didn't want to waste the day away by feeling down all the time. He knew Helen would be disappointed in him.

When his hair was gelled to perfection, John had packed his weapons and hoisted a pistol or two and some knives in their holders. After that, he was good to go.

John brushed his fingers against Helen's picture that was hanging on the wall before he got out of his house and locked the door behind him, walking over to his beloved Mustang that also had memories of Helen in it.

Flowers. He needed to get some flowers for her. He hoped there was a near flower shop so he wouldn't have to drive so far. The nearest one was an hour away from him and the cemetery where Helen rests. He wasn't in the mood for such a long drive.

But it seemed fate had taken pity on him. Because not long after, he had spotted a small flower shop that seemed as if it was fairly new. A fair amount of customers were inside and John decided to park his car on the side of the road before he turned the engine off and walked inside, the bell ringing as he opened the door.

The people inside looked up at him curiously, some seemed to know him and gave him a nod. Some of them were too scared to even acknowledge him.

John wondered where the staff were and his question was answered when a woman walked in carrying a bouquet of carnations with a soft smile plastered on her face before she handed it to an elderly woman.

"Thank you so much, my dear. You never fail to make the best bouquets." The woman's compliments emits a laughter from the girl that sounded so melodious in John's ear.

It reminded him of how Helen once laughed. But hers sounded more carefree and gentle.

"Anything for you, Mrs. Jameson. Do have a good day." The girl smiled and with that, the woman left and it was just her, John, and one of the assassins he had recognized from the Continental.

"And what can I get for the two gentlemen?" The girl asked and John heard the man beside him speak but he found himself tuning him out as he took the moment to stare at the girl who was wearing a yellow sundress. The assassin would watch her write down on her little notepad, taking notes of what the man beside him was asking her to do and what kind of flowers he wanted.

John watched her move around, noticing the little daisies that were tied around her hair. She pretty much looks like a fairy and the fact that she was much smaller and daintier than him didn't help either.

No, he shouldn't be oggling her like this, he's married!

A widowed man, you mean.

He had to bite back the groan at the thought. But instead, he gathered his composure and smiled down at the woman when she came back carrying the bouquet her other customer had requested.

"Here we are. Fresh tulips for you, sir." She happily handed the bouquet to the man who paid her generously and put some tip in her tip jar.

"Thank you, miss, they're beautiful and uh..." The man glanced at John and smirked slightly at him, "And do have a safe day. It gets dangerous these days."

The girl seemed to miss how the man looked at John with mischievousness in his eyes and John was kind of thankful for that because he didn't find it amusing at all.

"I'll keep that in mind, sir, have a nice day." The girl smiled and averted her gaze to the notepad she had as the man patted John's back before whispering quietly near his ear.

"Shouldn't stare too much, Mr. Wick." John looked at the man on his way out, ignoring the way how he taunted him by giving a two fingered salute.

"And for you, sir, what would you like to have today?" The girl's voice brought him out of his thoughts and looked down at her as she looked up at him patiently waiting for his answer.

"Oh, uh... daisies, please." He answered, ignoring how shocked he was with his answer. Daisies weren't Helen's favorite flower. But the girl seemed to beam at his reply and John smiled softly at that. Smile. It's been a while since he smiled.

"Nice choice, I like daisies." She said and wrote it down on her notepad, "Do you want the daisies to be mixed with something else?"

John thought for a moment and saw the tiny rose tattoo that she had on her wrist.

"Roses. Red, please."

The little fairy in front of him smiled and wrote it down on paper before she looked up at him, "These are good combinations, no one has made these one up yet, I haven't made them up yet to be honest."

"Well I guess I have a new profound talent now." John replied as a giggle escaped from the girl's lips.

"That, you do! The person you're gonna give this to is gonna be happy with them, I'm sure."

"I wish they were here to appreciate them."

"Oh, are they somewhere far away?"

He sighed, "Yeah, something like that. She uh, passed away."

Murdered, he wanted to say.

The girl's eyes widened and John could tell she immediately regret asking any questions but he didn't feel the need to take any offence.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I shouldn't have asked." She said apologetically but John found himself shaking his head and smiling softly, feeling patient with the lady in front of him.

"No, it's alright. It's been three years, I've moved on."

Have you? He questioned himself.

"Still. I shouldn't have been so nosey." She bit down on her bottom lip and gestured over to the chair behind John, "Please, sit! This'll take a while I hope you're not in any hurry."

"No, please, take your time." John would say as he took the opportunity to sit down.

John didn't want to oggle at the girl while she worked but he found it hard not to. She moved with such grace and poise it was as if he was watching a gracious ballerina dancing in front of a thousand audience. The sundress she wore flowed freely with her moves and the slight breeze that came in from the windows blew her hair softly until a tiny daisy fell from her soft mane and landed onto John's knee.

The assassin carefully took it and while the girl wasn't looking, he quietly placed it in the pocket of his coat, making sure he wouldn't lose it. And it surprised him why he was keeping it safe with him in the first place.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he heard her softly calling out to him. And John immediately stood up and walked over to the counter where she happily handed the bouquet in his hands and John took in how elegant yet adorable the arrangement looked.

"I made sure to pick out the prettiest red roses I had. I believe all of them had recently bloomed." The girl smiled and placed something on the counter and John looked down to see a tiny cactus situated on a small pot, "To make up for being so nosey earlier."

Innocence. John felt an overwhelming wave of innocence from her that it almost shook him to the core. Not even Helen was this soft.

Oh, God. Why was he comparing Helen to her?

"Oh, no, I can't take that. It's alright, I didn't take any offence." John would say and gently pushed back the cactus to her but she almost looked as if she was about to pout at him but instead, pursed her lips together.

"No, please, I insist. I feel guilty for even asking you such a personal question. Just look at it as my gift to you, you wouldn't decline on a gift now, would you?" John stared down at her for a moment and watched her take his calloused hand in her softer one and made him hold the small pot.

"It's rude to refuse gifts from people, sir." She smiled and pulled back and John suddenly remembered how Helen had told her the exact same thing back then.

"Oh, come on, John!" Helen whined and pushed the velvet box back to him, "It's your birthday, you deserve this!"

"But, honey, this must've cost a lot, you shouldn't be wasting money on me." John reasoned out and pushed the box gently back to her.

"Wasting? I'm not wasting anything, Jonathan, you're being ridiculous!" Helen sighed and grabbed his hand and made him hold the box, "John, please?"

"But, I-"

"No buts."

John sighed deeply and finally gave in when he saw the twinkle of hope in his wife's eyes when she finally realizes he's taking the gift she gave.

"It's rude to refuse a gift, John. Especially a gift from your wife." John playfully rolled his eyes and grinned at her.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled, "Thank you, sweetheart. The watch looks incredible, I love it."

"Oh, I know it is. But you're welcome, baby. You know I'd give you anything and everything."

"Thank you." John replied after he zoned out for what seemed like eternity. He hoped she didn't notice him doing so, "It's adorable, I love it."

"It is, yes. I wish I could tell you some tips on how to care for one but I wouldn't wanna keep you from your errands. Besides, a simple search on the internet would help you out anyways."

John looked down at his watch and noticed he had been here for about fourty-five minutes now.

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll be fine by here." He fished out his wallet and handed some cash to the fairy girl and dropped a fair amount of tip inside the tip jar.

"Thank you, sir. And have a nice day ahead!" She smiled and John could've sworn the twinke in her eyes made her smile even more breathtaking than it already was.

"I sure will. You too, doll." And with that, he walked out of the store and silently hoped she didn't latch onto how he had called her doll.

Hopping inside his car, John carefully placed the bouquet and his new cacti on the passenger seat and began to slowly drive to the local cemetery.

"God, why the fuck would you call her doll?" He asked himself, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, "And you didn't even ask for her name!"

John felt frustrated. But why? Why was he? Is it because he called her doll and possibly sounded like a creep? Or is it because he forgot to ask her name?

Why would he ask for her name anyway?

John shook his head and focused on the road ahead. No, this is Helen's day. He shouldn't he dwelling on a certain woman who reminds him so much of a dainty little fairy.

When he pulled up at the cemetery, John carefully parked his car and grabbed the bouquet before he got out and walked over to where Helen's grave was.

Upon seeing her name, John felt more at ease but the sadness in his heart never seemed to go away even until now.

"Hey, sweetheart." He greeted her and lightly brushed his fingers against the tombstone.

"I got you flowers." He crouched down and gently placed the flowers on the ground before he reached up and lightly traced her name that was engraved on the stone.

Helen Wick.

A sense of guilt coursed through his veins. This was the first time he brought a different set of flowers for her. These were red roses and daisies and he only got it because of the girl from the store. Because he reminded him of her not because it was Helen's favorite.

Helen's favorite were gardenias. Why the fuck would he even get these flowers in the first place?

John's frustration was slowly growing and he was almost close to throwing and ruining the whole bouquet itself but something stopped him from doing so.

"It never gets easy, Hel. It's so hard without you." He spoke softly.

And somehow, he began to hope. That maybe it doesn't have to be so difficult.

That maybe there was something more than just Helen.

And John couldn't help but think back to the girl from the flower shop that wore a yellow sundress with daisies in her hair and a rose tattoo on her wrist.

It wouldn't be too bad if he paid her a visit next time...

Right?

TAGS: @a-really-bi-girl @fanficsrusz @fairylightsandchai @pinkzsugar @edgiestwinter @paanchu786

[susiephone]

okay so i was thinking about why, out of all the ZEP characters and their many, MANY mistakes, max’s tend to irk me the most. (and while i wouldn’t call this character bashing, i will acknowledge that he’s my least favorite main character and i’m pretty “blah” on zomax, so if you’re a big fan of max or zomax, and you don’t like reading criticism of your fave.... scroll past.) 

and i think it’s because max, while not exactly “selfish,” is really quite self-centered. however, because he’s a friendly, approachable guy in most contexts, it doesn’t come out the way you’d expect -- he’s not a gaston type by any stretch. mostly it comes off in him being extremely clueless and insensitive, and downright boneheaded.

first, the obvious: the damn flash mob. i personally think it’s in character that max would find this romantic and cute. he’s a cheesy guy. i totally buy that max saw a viral video of a flash mob proposal or something and thought it was adorable, and would probably be super-flattered if a girl did it for him. but you know who decidedly would not like it? zoey! shy, awkward, hates being the center of attention, not good with people zoey! also known as max’s best friend of five years. if he’d thought this through for even two minutes, he should’ve been able to realize that, hey, maybe declaring his love in song to her in a very public place would be overwhelming for her. maybe he should just ask her if she wants to have dinner sometime instead! 

so we either have to buy one of three options: that max genuinely didn’t get that zoey would hate this despite having been her friend for five years, that max realized she might be uncomfortable and decided to do it anyway, or that he just plain didn’t think this through -- which still isn’t good, because grand romantic gestures work when they’re tailored to the person they’re aimed at, not the person making them.

also, the fact that he expected an answer right then and there. like, jesus, give the girl a second to think. especially since he didn’t even go the “i know we’re friends but i think we could do something more, maybe we could go on a date and see where it takes us?” route, he went straight to “i love you, please be my girlfriend” -- that is a BIG jump, and a hell of a lot of pressure to put on zoey.

second: autumn. oh, poor autumn. while max’s breakup was as kind and gentle as it could have been, the way he handled it afterwards was, again, ridiculously insensitive. “don’t go where your ex works for at least a couple months” is Breakup 101. not only did max genuinely believe he’d done “the greatest breakup ever,” it didn’t even occur to him that autumn might still be upset one day after the breakup, until she explicitly spelled it out for him.

third: while it’s perfectly understandable to be sad when your crush turns you down, he spends so much of “zoey’s extraordinary confession” wallowing and refusing to acknowledge zoey’s feelings, or even give her the benefit of the doubt.

fourth: despite knowing that zoey has had a crush on simon, as well as a genuine emotional connection with him, he is utterly shocked she could have feelings for both of them, or be torn between them -- or just not want to date either of them!

fifth: he really has not been looking at things from zoey’s perspective at ALL. for example, getting pissed for setting him up with autumn because she knew he had a crush on her (zoey). while setting him up with autumn was a questionable move on zoey’s part, he’s specifically mad she didn’t tell him she knew he liked her. so....he wanted her to be like “so i know you’re deeply in love with me, and i’m telling you i know so i can make it very clear i am not into you”? she could not have more clearly been trying to spare his feelings.

and the promotion thing! zoey said, “i’ll be sad to see you go, but you should take the job if you want it,” and he said, “wrong answer.” like. HOW IS THAT THE WRONG ANSWER? he was clearly fishing for her to ask him to stay, but that would’ve been very selfish of her -- to tell him to give up such a great opportunity for her sake. not to mention, given that she’d just turned him down, it would’ve sent a mixed signal. she made it clear she values him and his friendship, but she won’t hold him back.

overall, max frequently comes off as someone who thinks, “i’m a nice guy, i work hard, i try my best -- things should generally work out for me,” and gets pissy when they don’t.

and this is fine! these are realistic flaws for someone to have! but the problem is, unlike pretty much every other character, max has yet to be called out. when zoey loses her temper or makes a bad call, she’s called out, realizes her mistakes, and tries to make amends. when leif and tobin are douchebags, everyone tells them they’re douchebags. simon is repeatedly called out for his emotional cheating. joan is demanding and rude, and while it’s never called out directly, but that has an in-universe justification; she’s their boss, and it’s hard to call out your boss. and it’s heavily implied she is not exactly Miss Popular around the office for exactly those reasons. there are consequences. but max? so far his only consequence has been.... zoey won’t date him. like yeah, zoey called him selfish for not giving the code back to the fourth floor, but zoey was clearly in the wrong there -- his code, his call, and he did just start a new job. and zoey was meant to be in the wrong. the way the show is written, i can’t tell if the writers see max as being in the wrong or not! if so, why has he not gotten a wake-up call like everyone else?

do i think he’s a bad person? no. but someone needs to lay all this out for him so he can get his damn head on straight.

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Could you do a little fic where the reader super nervously asks Yennefer to help her look beautiful to impress Jaskier? Like maybe they're going to a fancy ball or something and she knows she needs to stand out among all the gorgeous women, and shes super intimidated by Yen but loves her dresses and makeup and wants some help?

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Platonic!Yennefer x Reader, Jaskier x Reader, Geralt x ExasperationWord Count: 1,822Rating: GTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak a/n: Genuinely, truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Love me some Yennefer x Reader bonding.

You’d been standing outside of Yennefer’s door for about 10 minutes trying to summon the courage to knock. You knew, logically, that the worst thing she’d likely do is say no. Even if she laughed at you that would be survivable. But she also might say yes, a thought that equally frightened you but also gave you a glimmer of hope. You were out of your depth in preparing for the ball tonight and while Jaskier had offered his services you wanted to make sure he didn’t see you until you were ready. You just needed to get past this damn door first and then, if she said no, you’d throw yourself on the mercy of the shopkeepers and maybe that was the better plan anyway because Yennefer was likely quite busy and-

“Are you going to come in or not?”

The door had swung open mid-thought and Yennefer stood before you. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her makeup was already applied, a jewel-toned emerald shade gracing her lids and her lips a deep berry red. She wore a robe, not yet dressed, and she gave you an amused expression as you stood there gaping.

“Oh! Yennefer! Hello! Fancy meeting you in your room! I had a question,” you began. Yennefer patiently waited for you to continue speaking and when you felt certain she wasn’t going to close the door in your face, you continued.

“I’m going to that ball tonight and I don’t now much about… any of it,” you said.

“Any of it,” she echoed.

“Yes well I mean I know how to dance, sort of, and I’ve read about them but getting ready for one is totally foreign to me. Literally. They don’t really have balls where I’m from. Small village and all,” you were babbling but Yennefer considered your dilemma thoughtfully before standing to the side, leaving room for you to enter.

Though you all had similar rooms in the manor you were staying at, courtesy of the host of tonight’s ball, Yennefer’s struck you as much more refined. There were a couple of dress options, it seemed she was leaning towards either a black or gold gown, and you saw the vanity where the makeup she’d used was still sitting.

“Do you have a dress?” she asked, circling you.

“Um yes and no?” you said and when she gave you an inquisitive look you gestured to the simple grey frock you were wearing.

“Alright let’s start there,” she said, pulling open the wardrobe where you saw flashes of colors, dresses of varying hues and fabrics.

“Yennefer, that’s very generous and kind but what are the chances of a dress you own fitting me exactly the same I mean you’re much taller for one thing and-”

“Magic,” she said offhandedly as though it were obvious.

“Wait really?”

“Yes, did you choose grey or was that just what was available?” she asked, quickly moving past the many questions you had about the kind of magic that could make any article of clothing fit anyone.

“It was available,” you replied.

“What is your favorite color?” she asked, hands skimming through the dresses as you thought.

“I love purple but it doesn’t look good on m-”

“Try this on,” Yennefer says before you can finish speaking, tossing a dress into your arms. The silky fabric is cool to the touch and you have to grip it so it doesn’t slide right through your arms. You hold it up in front of you and then turn it around a couple of times. When you start to turn it upside down Yennefer stops you.

“I’ll help you put it on,” she suggests and you give her a grateful smile. Once you’re down to your shift Yennefer waits, still holding the dress.

“I’m ready,” you say.

“No, that has to go too,” she says, “There’s a slit.”

You didn’t know three words could inspire that much panic in a person but you were learning a lot of things today. You dutifully took off the slip, down to a simple corset and small clothes, and Yennefer unlaced the side of the dress and had you step into it. She murmured a few words you couldn’t understand and then slid the dress up your frame, the fabric contouring onto your body as though it had been tailored to you specifically. Once she finished lacing up the sides she turned you towards the full length mirror and you gasped.

“Oh no,” you say, “Oh no this is… Oh.”

The dress is held onto your body through the amethyst toned strap on the right arm which winds down, tucking into the bodice of the dress which is made up of mesh and detailed flowers in complementary violet hues. The skirt is long and loosely flowing with a little train and a slit that runs from halfway up your left thigh to the ground. Your leg peeks out boldly and you don’t quite know what to do.

“Do you like it?” Yennefer asks.

“It’s gorgeous but… it’s maybe too gorgeous?”

“Let me ask you a question. Why did you ask for my help tonight?” she asks.

“As I said I wanted help,” you repeat.

“Yes but why?”

“Because it’s my first ball and I want to look put together.”

“That’s not the real reason, is it, Y/N?” Yennefer asks, violet eyes peering into your face as though they already knew the truth but needed you to say it. You take a deep breath.

“I want Jaskier to notice me,” you say, “Really notice me. There are going to be many beautiful women there, women that look more like you than me, and I just don’t want to get lost in the crowd.”

“Alright,” Yennefer says, still eyeing you appraisingly, “Now tell me, how do you feel when you look at yourself in this dress?”

She redirects your eyes back to the mirror, hands on your shoulders and you aren’t sure if it’s to keep you pointed at it or just for moral support.

“I feel… powerful,” you answer. Yennefer smiles and meets your eyes in the mirror.

“This is the one,” she says with certainty and you can feel it too, nodding and nervously biting your lip. “Ok, there’s much more to be done.”

She pulls you over to the vanity and begins to brush through your hair with surprising tenderness. She doesn’t ask you what you want done with it, both of you trusting that she knows what to do from this point on. Instead you talk about the balls she’s been to in the past and she answers the questions you’d felt too stupid to ask like which fork to use and if there was an order to who was able to dance first and how often she’d have to curtsey. She braids your hair into a loose French braid, tucking it together with little ornaments that complement the dress you wear. She threatens to spell your face frozen while she puts on your makeup but you manage to get your twitching under control long enough for her to brush your lids with a soft purple shade and identical wings of black eyeliner. She chooses a subtle shade not much different from your skin tone for your lips but even the subtle change helps emphasize their fullness.

“Thank you for not laughing when I told you about Jaskier,” you said as she held up two pairs of earrings, trying to choose which goes best with your ensemble. “I know I must sound like any number of his adoring fans.”

“You sound like a woman in love. I don’t judge. For all of our blustering I’m not unaware of the bard’s charms,” you look at her in surprise and with a tiny bit of possessive suspicion.

“Luckily my taste in partners is much less refined these days,” she adds with a little smile and you smile in return. Once you’re done she quickly slips into her own dress, choosing the gold one which you help lace her into though you know she could do it on her own. You look each other over appraisingly and while you can’t help feel a bit overshadowed with Yennefer standing beside you, you feel much more prepared for what’s to come than you did before.

“Is Jaskier going to walk you down?” Yennefer asks as you leave the room.

“No I wanted to surprise him,” you answer. Your heart is skipping a few beats as you stand out in the hall where people are starting to enter, on their way to the ball as well. You see a few admiring eyes looking you over and it simultaneously makes you feel bolder and scares you. As though she can sense your distress Yennefer links an arm through yours and stands up a bit straighter causing you to unconsciously mimic the movement.

“Shall we?” she asks. You nod and the two of you join the growing throng walking to the ballroom.

“Have you seen her yet?” Jaskier asks Geralt, the fifth time in as many minutes.

“Still no Jaskier,” he replies.

“I knew I should have gone to walk her down myself. What if she gets lost? What if someone is trying to make advances on her? What if she changed her mind and doesn’t come down at all?”

“What if she’s standing right over there,” Geralt says, pointing towards the entrance of the ballroom where Jaskier sees Yennefer and a woman walk in together.

“I was talking about… Y/N?” Jaskier turns back, eyes still catching up with what he’s seen. He isn’t sure at first if it’s you but then you catch his eye and smile and he’d know that smile anywhere. Then his eyes travel further down and he sees parts he is nowhere near as familiar with. Yet.

“Geralt, Jaskier,” you say when you finally reach them, fighting the urge to curtsey at Yennefer’s suggestion to avoid making any such gestures unless those around you do the same.

“Y/N,” Jaskier breathes but says nothing more, mind fruitlessly searching for the right words. Geralt gives you the briefest of nods and then his eyes are back on Yennefer’s.

“You look wonderful,” you say as the silence grows awkward, Jaskier’s big blue eyes still as wide as they can get.

“You… I… Y/N… There are no….”

You see Yennefer look between Jaskier and Geralt and she gives him a meaningful look.

“Why don’t you ask her to dance, Jaskier?” Geralt asks with a heavy sigh. Yennefer smiles approvingly and gives you a supportive wink.

“Y/N, would you do me the great honor of having this dance with me?” Jaskier asks. You giggle.

“Gods, Jaskier, it’s still just me,” you say, taking his hand and letting him lead you away, past a crowd of nobles, past the Countess de Stael whose presence he neither notices nor cares about in the slightest.

[wtfzodiacsigns]

What loving the zodiac signs is going to feel like:

♈️ARIES: Wild, but far from wrong. Destructive but far from hurtful. Unique but far from dangerous. Like living in the flames of a burning fire that dances between the thick sheets of darkness, with a force so invincible and so powerful. So divine you’ll feel like kissing God himself when you’re actually healing the Devil.

♉️TAURUS: Luxury exists only where there is hard-work and a colosal amount of passion driven by the madness that love is. And that madness, that drop of pure craziness it’s what keeps people glued to reality. Down to earth. Protected. Fought for. Wanted. You’ll literally feel the luxury behind these harmonious gifts and the effect of a powerful yet almost weithtless feeling of scented, amorous touch of kindness.

♊️GEMINI: A tailor is someone whose job is to repair, make or adjust clothes. But feeling the pinch of a needle going right through your veins, with an electricity so shocking, stitching all the holes in your soul with such a gentle touch, it’s not a tailor’s job anymore but a lovers. And stitich after stitch, you’ll finally realize why lovers are said to become one, in the end. Melted into a harmony so bright and melodious. Hopeful. Reborn. Happy. And most importantly, understood.

♋️CANCER: Like those golden mornings, scented by a sweet, innocent parfume, with birds chiriping in your ears. Like the touch of a light, silk fabric on your naked warm skin. Protected by the Gods. Adored by the angels. Carried by the soft hands of the refreshing wind and drunken by the thick liquid of happiness. Cared of.

♌️LEO: You know those afternoons you used to spend in the park with your friends,laughing and climbing on trees. Having a good time. Feeling youthful and totally unstoppable. This is a feeling only a special, curious and adventurous person can provide for somebody. And being able to be that somebody who can taste the sweet, savory fruit of childhood over and over again is truly a blessing.

♍️VIRGO: Empowered by an invincible force of intelligence is somekind of power anyone is looking for. And being able to feel it while laying down next to a warm body who provides comfort and security is not even called luck but more of a gift the Universe decided to prize you with. You’ll feel glorious. Like someone who won the trophy they waited for their entire lives. Thrilled by the soft happiness you found through the glasses of normality.

♎️LIBRA: Captive in the arms of absolute freedom is not captivity at all. You’ll feel harmony, beauty and pure rivers of love grow from within the core of your heart and soul, blooming shy grins on your lips while affection colors the pupils of your never ending passion for life. Fruitful. Perfect. Bathed into small, cold drops of rain, washing away all your sorrows.

♏️SCORPIO: Like in your everyday life, you’ll feel sparks of intimidation, anxiety or anger. But sparks fly, and flying they’ll slowly transform into glowing flames of passion. A passion so honest and so aggresive it will drive you insane. And losing sanity is, sometimes, a blessing. A harsh detachment from reality that is going to lead your way into a candle-lit cave where passion and errotic love collide, creating a sphere of perfection that can barely be described by words.

♐️SAGITTARIUS: A compliment can make someone blush, a joke can make someone laugh so hard their face might turn red and an adventure might color the entire universe and life conception of an individual in just a matter of a few minutes. With them, you’ll feel inspired, entertained and like an outcast living with your other half, far away in space while laughing at everyone and their pathetic, boring fates. You’ll feel special, somehow like that one perfect story-teller you always wanted to become when you would be fat and old.

♑️CAPRICORN: Being a black sheep is not always something bad and in this case, it is far from being a flaw. Standing out from the crowd while fitting into the patterns of such a hilariuos human being is absolutely extraordinary. You’ll feel like a lucky charm, carried around like something made by God’s hands. Precious. Watched by a knight in shining armor who is willing to sacrifice their perfect minds and blinding futures for a feeling as beautiful as this.

♒️AQUARIUS: Alice had to fall to get to Wonderland, but once she did so, she found herself in a world where everything and anything was possible. And falling IN LOVE with the out-of-the-ordinary, rebellious and revolutionary Aquarius won’t be far from what Alice experienced in Wonderland. You’ll truly feel like you’re broken from whatever the term of “ordinary” even means. Bathed in sweet dreams from head to toe with two arms as soft as the wings of a butterfly wrapped around your torso, drawing swirls of hope on your body and sticking amused grins on your lips. You’ll feel irreplaceable.

♓️PISCES: There’s nothing like a specific word to describe the euphoric perfection you’ll feel while loving this specific individual as it will be completely different from what you initially expected. But if I should compare it to something I would probably choose the expression “on cloud nine”. You’ll feel a unique energy, a calming breeze of fresh air in your life, the smell of new begginings and a precious state of happiness while drowning into the sweet nothings they whisper into your ear while your eyes are closed, dreaming of another world, another hope but never another love because there’s truly nothing more beautiful that the love they provide. Calming. Soft. Sweet. Truly incredible.

~~~

Source: astrologers-cloud-club

[nobodyfamousposts]

Here’s a Fluffy Idea

You know what I want to see? I want a fluffy one-shot where Marinette has to pretend to be an akuma for some legitimate reason and actually ends up being convincing enough that Chat Noir gets called in. Like say as a babysitter for Manon, Marinette is roped into some sort of children’s event. Maybe something for charity. Maybe even specifically something for sickly or disabled kids who normally can’t go out and do special things because they could certainly use the time and attention.

In the children’s event she she’s volunteering in, they’re letting a bunch of kids play as heroes--whether as Chat Noir and Ladybug, others, or even their own made up hero identities. Doesn’t matter. Let the kids go wild. They go the whole nine yards. Dressing up. Getting their own superhero costumes. Yes, Marinette makes every single one of those kids their very own superhero costume. It doesn’t matter if there are multiple Ladybugs and Chat Noirs, the costumes are still tailored to the child and they each look awesome because Marinette IS that good at her work. She ends up making at least five different Ladybugs, three Chat Noirs, two Rena Rouges (who are twins and Marinette suspects secretly evil), one Carapace, and one Queen Bee/Carapace hybrid because the kid couldn’t decide between the two. Along with one kid who wants to be Majestia and another who makes up her own hero.

Only problem is, as part of the event to really let the children feel like the heroes they may not otherwise feel they can get the chance to be, they need a villain for the children to ���battle”. And either due to the original choice cancelling last minute or simply poor luck of drawing the short straw, Marinette has to be the “akuma” in question.

So Marinette, at the very least, decides if she’s going to be an akuma, she’s going to show how it SHOULD be done (because wtf was Hawk Moth thinking with his designs? No wonder he keeps losing!). She goes all out. Makes up her own name, her own akuma costume, full on face mask and makeup, EVERYTHING. And she makes it look good.

So the day comes, the event starts. Everyone’s having a good time until “akuma Marinette” makes her appearance, overacting in all the best ways and making subtle and not-so-subtle jabs at Hawk Moth while she’s at it. It’s awesome. She may just be a little TOO good at it because some people see her and actually think she’s a real akuma.

Maybe Lila saw Marinette in costume and assumed or just otherwise started spreading stories about how she “barely got away” to milk sympathy. Or maybe some random people saw her in costume and simply mistook her for an actual akuma and hightailed it out of there before anything could be explained? Or maybe Alya finds out what happened and after an initial panic over thinking her friend was akumatized, actually decides to spur the joke on and posts it to the Ladyblog (Showing pictures with captions like “This is Fashionette”, “She is very scary”, “Look how evil she is”, “She criticized my outfit—how truly villainous!”). Or some variation thereof.

Regardless, Adrien eventually finds out without getting the full story and rushes out as Chat Noir to face the akuma thinking some variation of “Marinette NO! Marinette why?” But when he gets there, he arrives to a bunch of laughing and giggling children, unconcerned parents, and a very pretty but altogether not particularly destructive “akuma”. He’s honestly confused because what’s going on? Is this her power? What is she doing? What is all this? It kind of looks fun rather than evil.

Marinette is surprised to see him there, but takes it in stride. Namely by improvising and tying him up in yarn before proclaiming to the assembled children heroes that she has captured Chat Noir and no one can stop her. Chat quickly realizes what’s actually going on and plays along—also surprisingly well. He acts like he’s caught. Cue evil laugh from Marinette.

“You are scarily good at that.”

“Thanks!”

The children naturally charge forth to do “battle” to rescue their hero, with perhaps the sole exception of one little girl dressed as Chat Noir who decides to stay next to him for the “fight” so he doesn’t get scared or lonely (and only maybe a little to do with the fact that she scares easily and doesn’t like fighting). In short order, the children defeat the “akuma” and break her object—in this case a staff that actually releases a little toy butterfly, thus returning Marinette to “normal” (really done by her simply removing her mask). And yay! The heroes won! And as thanks for freeing her and saving the city, they get free pastries from the stand that Marinette’s parents set up nearby.

Chat also gets a pastry for being a good sport. Honestly, he’s just glad Marinette’s not ACTUALLY an akuma. Turns out some of those knots she tied him with were a bit trickier than he expected.

So loads of fun for everyone involved. Plenty of pictures and video footage to look back on and enjoy. The children got to feel like heroes. Chat actually had fun and a nice break from dealing with actual akumas. Plus the one little Chat Noir who remains attached to him for the rest of the event and follows him around by holding his tail because that is adorable and no one will be able to talk me out of it. And it all ends on a bright note with happy children, satisfied parents, a cackling Alya, and a nice big box of macaroons for Chat for his unexpected yet completely welcome help in making things go well, playing with the children, and giving out autographs and words of encouragement to each of them. Except for the little mini-Chat Noir. She also gets a giant stuffed black cat because shut up it’s Chat-Freaking-Noir and he can damn well buy an oversized cat for his mini-kitten if he wants to.

The event is a huge hit. It even gets in the news. The class is buzzing over it. Alya’s a mix of laughing and cooing at the pictures and video she took. Lila is put off because that just destroyed her “akuma Marinette attacked me” story because 1) Marinette didn’t attack anyone and 2) that means that Marinette’s costume was really just THAT good. Marinette has gotten more recognition both because of her work for the event and her acting as an akuma, as well as the fact that she literally designed everything from the children’s costumes to her own, which would get her attention and more notice in fashion.

Perhaps the best/worst? part is when Adrien approaches Marinette afterwards to ask about commissions for cosplay.