#the magic explanation was NOT supposed to get so long but the words just kept coming

[eff-plays]

Long Taash storyline rant, by an enby

Listen. At first I was honestly not that offended/upset with the Taash enby stuff. And having an enby Rook who was able to help them out was honestly pretty fun. It was definitely the first time any video game engaged directly with nonbinary identity like this, and while it's not really 1-1 with my own experiences, I thought that it was. Fine? Ya know? I thought it was a very novel experience to finally have a fellow enby NPC that you could talk to about being nonbinary. It's never happened in any other game I've played.

But then it just ... kept going. And on one hand I get it, because you don't just decide your nonbinary and that's it -- it's a process. But the way it's handled is absolutely insane to me. First of all, how old is Taash supposed to be? They give off whiny teen vibes, and it's very off-putting. This is the character that's meant to represent me? Why are they written like a child?

Second, why are we using modern terms? The word "nonbinary" IRL exists because it is a rejection of the Western gender binary. It's a specific term that isn't universal, and since no previous game bothers to engage with the gender roles of Thedas to begin with, it's absolutely insane to hear these hyperspecific terms used in this made-up fantasy world. Especially since the Qun already has words and concepts for their gender roles -- why didn't BioWare just base this story on those? Why not try to contextualize this in-universe? There are other nonbinary characters in the game, but they just popped up in this previously unequal and often sexist world and are just vibing. With no explanation. Who's out there doing thedosian gender studies? How are they spreading these revolutionary concepts so far and so quickly that the terminology becomes universal?

Side note on that, why does Taash have a little counselling session with the other two trans people that sounds like something they'd do in sex ed class (in Sweden, anyway)? Why is this happening during a magical apocalypse? Hello? Look at this fucking codex entry and try not to cringe

Like. Who is this for? This doesn't make me feel good as a nonbinary person. This makes me feel like a freak, out-of-place, and like I'm a fucking baby that needs my existence validated by some fucking bitchass video game codex entry preaching at me about how totally valid I am. This doesn't feel like respect, or inclusion -- it feels patronizing. It feels corporate, like we're ticking off boxes. "Look everyone, we're using the appropriate terminology! We're so inclusive!" And you know what? The fucking anti-woke chuds are gonna look at this and think THIS is me. That all I care about is having my terminology and identity carelessly stuffed into places just so I can feel good about who I am.

And before tumblrinas get upset, I'm not saying I don't want rep, or that I'm one of the "good ones" who wants video games to be free of "ideology." I am one of the bad ones. Taash should be nonbinary and I should be able to play a nonbinary Rook and I want both of those things to be explicit and accepted in-game! But I want those in a way that respects me and my intelligence, and the world BioWare has created that I've come to love. Who is preventing BioWare from actually, ya know, unwrapping the sexism and misogyny that they started in Origins? Who's stopping them from actually tackling the gender politics of Thedas? Why don't we ACTUALLY sit down and figure out how a society like the Qun might approach somebody not willing or able to conform to their particular rules? Especially the Qun. Like, they had so much potential for something actually interesting here, and instead it's "mom it's not a phase, respect meeeeee!"

Third, and this is my favorite fucking part, they tie Taash's gender to their background, where the Qun represents conformity and Rivain represents freedom. (Which is an entire can of worms in itself that I won't go into here.) I don't actually mind this? I have some extra special boy insight on this part of the quest, because I am also an immigrant who was born in one country and grew up in another. Being nonbinary and being an immigrant, while separate, have both had a similar effect in my life. It's left me feeling like I don't belong anywhere at times, like I'm something different and strange, and at times like I'm a kaleidoscope of expression and freedom, with unique experiences not everyone has. There is an absolutely valid intersection there that could have been explored and would've been very impactful if done right.

But instead we get this

Hello? Oh my god HELLO?

Why is there a BINARY CHOICE in a story where a character embraces being NONBINARY? Why are we now equating Taash's background and cultural belonging to the demands of their mother? You can reject what your parent is forcing you into without completely rejecting your culture! Am I fucking taking crazy pills right now?

The idea that Taash, upon discovering they're nonbinary, has to now say goodbye to being a Qunari? When they weren't even ever shown to care about the Qun in the first place? WHY IS THIS A CHOICE THAT HAS TO BE MADE? WHY ARE THEY ASKING ME WHETHER THEY SHOULD CONTINUE FOLLOWING THIS CREED THEY DO NOT CARE ABOUT? (Side note: why did their mother escape from the Qun only to enforce it herself?)

Like? You can't spend a whole fucking subplot deciding you're neither a man nor a woman, but then equate being nonbinary to being Rivaini, and thinking you need to pick that or being Qunari. I'm sorry? I'm sorry? I'm sorry?

Why is there no third choice? Why is there no "Hey you can be both" or "Hey just pick whatever from either culture you want to keep and throw away what you don't?"

I am going insane. The game sits you down and condescends at you for ages about basic contemporary gender theory, but then tries to inexplicably tie that to Taash's cultural background, but then doesn't bother examining how those cultures treat gender at all, and then finally forces us into a binary choice ... for a character whose entire fucking personality is "nonbinary."

The Qun is a misogynistic society. Rivain is a matriarchal society. (This was true for the previous games, at least.) The way these cultures approach gender is vastly different. But instead of examining how such a person would struggle with their background and how that would tie into their gender identity, it's just "Rivain good" and "Qun bad." Pick one or the other. Conform or rebel. Pick one or the other.

And that's the storyline of the nonbinary character.

The reactionary chuds will hate this and blame nonbinary people for how much this fucking sucks. While I can't claim or enjoy it because it's corporate nonsense and fucking sucks. All this does is show people that when games include enby rep, it's hack shit like this, so why include it if it's gonna suck ass, right? This bad writing will just make your game worse, so don't bother!

So yeah. Cool.

Thanks, BioWare. I hope whatever you were trying to prove was worth it.

[wave2tyun]

eyes locked, hands locked | ☆

pairing: prince!soobin x reader

genre: royal!au, fluff<3

prompts: - “was that your first kiss?”

- “stop looking at me like that”

warnings: none!

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i apologise for the long wait my lovely anon!!😔😔💞 have fun reading hehe!! :DD<3💞💓💖💘💞 honestly, going through this one again really makes me want to have another go at royal aus, perhaps something longer?? but at the same time i have too many wips going on and AHHHHHHHH i wish the fics would write themselves as fast as my thoughts go through my brain<//3

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

there was nothing more besides the cheery, tiny crickets in the grass that kept you company in the coldness of the night.

while everybody else was busy running around the castle, setting food down on the tables or balancing the champagne-filled glasses on silver trays, your one and only job was to watch over the garden’s flower section, careful so as not to let any curious kids wander off around the perimeter and trample all over them in the darkness.

that was how you were supposed to spend your evening: pacing around the cobblestone pathway, watching the moon and stars, feeling your heart ache as the grand classical music pierced the silence at midnight, wondering if soobin had found himself a partner to dance with, to hold close, to court.

you could tell that the chore had been specially tailored for you by the queen: it kept you away from the ballroom, the guests, and most importantly, from her son. she wasn’t exactly fond of the way the relationship between the two of you had been evolving- your presence left a bitter taste in her mouth, she couldn’t risk having you, a maid, impede the royal family from continuing their pure, blue blood heritage.

you were way too absorbed by the dancing silhouettes you could see from the windows -wishing that you, too, could slip inside- that you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

soobin was right behind your back, out of breath, hands slightly sweating while he looked at your figure. he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you in tightly as he tenderly embraced you “i missed you” you heard him whisper, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

you couldn’t fight back the smile taking over your face, feeling relief that he was alongside you, and not with some stranger, holding them close to his chest, swaying them across the dance floor “how did you sneak out?”

“beomgyu helped me- he made a mess at the dining table while attempting to pull a magic trick” soobin chuckled, remembering the way all the plates and glasses flew in the air as his friend pulled at the table cloth “needless to say, my parents were too astounded to keep their eyes on me”

you laughed at his explanation, knowing beomgyu, the incident must have been much more ridiculous than anything you could ever imagine. he sacrificed himself just so that the two of you could meet. however, the royal family adored him too much to ever throw him out, not matter how chaotic his endeavours were.

“i missed this” soobin placed a kiss on your right shoulder “-and this” he sweetly pecked your cheek, then spun your body around so that you could fully face him. the dim light shining from the lamp poles illuminated your features, giving them a gentle, mellow glow, and, perhaps without even realising it, soobin was leaning closer towards your lips. your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed how short the distance between you was getting, and yet, you allowed him to do it- to close the remaining gap.

you were stiff, anxious, forgetting to close your eyes or at least kiss him back, your mind could only focus on the softness of his lips and how his hand began to trail further down your waist. soobin separated himself from you hesitantly, not too much, only to the point where you could still feel his breath fanning on your face “i apologise, did i go too far-“

“no- that’s not the case” you cut him off. there was a tremble in your voice and it was impossible for him to tell whether it was from anger, sadness, or perhaps nervousness. you tapped your lips with your fingers, struggling the words that wouldn’t make this more embarrassing for you than it already was.

soobin’s head tilted to the side, expecting you to go on further. he couldn’t quite understand why you just stood there when he kissed you, like a statue devoid of emotion. you had always been cold on the surface, mostly unaccepting of any external forces. that didn’t stop soobin from delving deeper inside your heart, he knew that, in reality, behind all your pretending, you were warm, a certain kind of warmth that he’d crave more and more as time went on.

which is why, despite all the distance you had desperately tried to place between the two of you over the years, he still found himself calling out for you. it was inevitable- you were pulling him in like a magnet.

the flowers seemed to pick at his interest only when he walked around the garden with you. maybe because he was all too immersed by your gaze, wanting to find out which plant had your wholehearted attention. maybe it was because he wanted you to look at him that way too- or, maybe he just dreamed of gifting you a bouquet of all your favorite flowers, all handpicked by him from the garden.

the pastries tasted better whenever you were the one who made them, not mr. hughes, the main chef, or any of the other maids. so, each time he spotted a fresh batch made by you in the castle’s kitchen, he’d place one in his mouth stuffing his pockets with at least four more pieces. the butter from the sweets turned the fabric into a dirty, buttery mess, which the maids on cleaning duty loved to complain about. they couldn’t get how, at some point during the week, the pants in his laundry basket managed to reach this state.

he couldn’t deny it, he was completely, thoroughly infatuated by you.

“it’s all new to me” you attempted to reveal the truth, unaware of how vague your statement must have sounded.

soobin continued to look at you with a purely clueless look “what is?” the tone of his voice was a mixture of confusion and concern.

“this” your thumb reached out to graze his lower lip, eyes following the motion. soobin took your hand, holding it against his cheek while smiling.

“was that your first kiss?” his voice quivered as he asked, hiding a laugh. the situation, albeit embarrassing for you, was foolishly endearing for him.

“stop looking at me like that” you dodged his question, returning to your usual, rash behaviour, but soobin knew that you were only doing it out of nervousness.

“why? am i making your heart thump faster?” he whispered, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm “or-“ he leaned down, continuing to speak in a low tone as he reached your ear “perhaps you already want more?”

you gave his shoulder a slight push. where was the flustered boy from a few seconds ago, the one whose eyes widened at the thought of having stolen your first kiss?

“i think you’re getting way too ahead of yourself-”

“i’m not, you’re just afraid” he provoked you, now that it was clear in his mind that you did want the kiss, you just didn’t know how to return it. knowing your ego and short temper, how else could he ensure himself another taste, if not by teasing you?

“afraid of what?” you scoffed.

“of being a bad kisser”

“i’m not-“ your tone sharpened as you looked at him.

“well, how would you know?” he snickered “wasn’t this your first kiss, or am i mistaken?”

by the way he spoke, you could tell that he was enjoying this more and more by the second. catching on to the trap he was leading you to, you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, a tangled mixture of his collar and necklace in your hand as you pulled him closer, pressing your lips to his. you didn’t know exactly what to do, you only puckered your lips, hoping that it was enough to make a difference from your earlier kiss. soobin pulled away with a chuckle, tilting your chin up with one finger “i believe you need more practice, sweetheart”

taglist: @huekalover3000

[luniidae]

~ A BIT OF ~

KINDNESS

Chapter IV

Note: Yay young Gortash !

Hi everyone! Here is a... Kind of a chill chapter ? To be honest, I wrote it to join two chapters together 🫣

____________________________________

Raphael didn't seem to be mad at Luvia. Anyways, he continued to treat her just the way he used to. He kept teaching her a whole bunch of things, from the history of the Hells to that of her disappeared people, and even poetry. Korilla (who was in charge of teaching her the practice of magic) sometimes took pleasure in teasing Raphael about it.

"Is everything alright with Luvia ?", the dwarf asked.

"Assuredly. She's very perceptive and attentive. I must admit that I look forward to see how things will be going", the devil replied, his voice slightly filled with satisfaction and excitement.

Korilla chuckled and the cambion raised an eyebrow, looking at her.

"What is so funny, Korilla ?", he asked.

"It seems like you've grown attached to her over time."

His eyes widened, as if he didn't want to admit it.

"Don't be ridiculous....", then he paused for a few seconds before adding, "How did you make this conclusion though ?"

He was staring at her, a hand leaning on a piece of his desk, the other on his hip, waiting for her explanation.

"I didn't know poetry was useful to conquer the Hells", she said with a grin. 

Raphael was keeping his eyes on her, expressionless, as if he was looking for a proper answer he eventually didn't find. He took a deep breath and turned on his heels without saying a word, vexed.

Korilla chuckled.

"You'd be surprised by the power of the words...", he finally said. 

"Oh I have no doubt"

Meanwhile, in the corridors....

For his part, Enver had recovered from his lynching session, as he always did.... But it wasn't that bad thanks to Luvia. That wouldn't stop Nubaldin from beating him again, but at least this time she maybe had avoided him the worst.

Luvia didn't approach him anymore, but he could briefly see her from the corner of his eyes from time to time, observing him from a distance. She may thought he didn't notice her... He missed their little interactions though. The food she used to bring him was always more than welcome, but most of all, he eventually got used to her presence.

He wondered why she was there though, in this so-called "House of Hope". Was she really Raphael's daughter ? It was strange to him as the cambion seemed to love no one but himself.

But he didn't plan to stay long enough to find out. Enver was smart; "too" smart according to his parents, those very same who had not hesitated to sell him to the devil. He would pay them a visit someday.... All he had to do was to find a way out. 

The young boy already had the occasion to see the mirrors room. He had observed them and had seen the worlds through them.

Waterdeep, Neverwinter, Luskan..... And of course.... Baldur's Gate. This is where he once lived, and he was determined to get back there. He would prove to the entire city, and the world, that you wouldn't get rid of him that easily.

Enver smirked at this thought, thinking about his escape, imagining his parent's face when he'd come back. All of this sounded fabulous. 

But he had not the time to think any further about it since he noticed someone 3 meters away from him: Luvia. She was standing there, facing him without a word or expression, but her scarlet eyes looked friendly, almost compassionate. 

Enver didn't know how long she's been there, but he said nothing. It's been about two weeks since what happened in the prison..

But something had changed since their last encounter. She looked confident, or resigned.

After a few seconds, Enver decided to break the silence.

"You're supposed to stay away from me"

She seemed about to say something, but instead, she assuredly headed towards him and took him in her arms. The young girl couldn't believe she was doing that, but she didn't have the occasion to apologize for what happened to him because of her. And maybe she would never have the opportunity to do it. 

Enver's breath got cutted by surprise. He didn't give the hug back, but it didn't stop her from holding him tight against her.

"I am sorry", she finally whispered in his ear.

That was the first time he heard her voice. It was soft and calm, and so different from what he used to hear. Enver was usually surrounded by the Eternal debtors and his jailor. Between the cries of despair or madness from ones and the barks from the other, there was no place for kindness and yet....

It was also pleasant to feel another kind of "grip" for once, he thought. 

Luvia could sense his bones through his clothes, and he could feel her little heart beating against him. That sounded weird to him.... He wasn't used to that kind of proximity with anyone. Even with his parents. 

Suddenly, she took a step back when she heard Nubaldin in the distance. She didn't want Enver to be punished because of her again... She was scared of the gnome, but she hated him more. She hadn't forgotten his expression while he was beating the young boy before her, how he seemed to have enjoyed it more than he should have. She was hoping to make him pay someday...

The jailor arrived in Enver's back, barking as always. 

"Hey shithead, you...", the gnome stopped himself and talked in a softer tone, which surprised his prisoner as it was very unusual from him, "Oh, Milady", he made a little bow, "My apologies, I hope you haven't been bothered by this...", he was looking for the right words but didn't find anything correct to say,".... Anyway, it won't happen again"

"You're the only one who's bothering me right now", she cutted him sharply. 

Enver and Nubaldin both looked at her with astonishment. None of them was expecting her to say that... And to be honest, Luvia didn't either. 

She happened to hear Raphael talking like this sometimes, and she had noticed the effect it had on people. She wanted to try it too.

Nubaldin went pale, "Of course Milady, I beg your pardon"

The young girl restreinted herself from smiling whereas she felt a pleasant feeling. She could almost understand Raphael, it gave her a sensation of.... Power ? Authority. That was a somewhat vague subject to her but it seemed to work somehow. 

But.... What was next ? What was she supposed to say after that ? Her brief moment of glory quickly vanished at this question. 

Luvia did her best to keep her calm and started to look for something to say.

"Aren't you able to speak to him without yelling ?", she asked rethorically.

"I.... Well, yes, I suppose...", he answered, frustrated and looking at Enver from the corner of his eyes, "But, you know... I'm not but a servent to my Lord and Raphael gave me specifical instructions for.."

"Does it imploy to be as noisy as possible ?", she continued.

Nubaldin looked annoyed. He didn't like Luvia. Not only because she was another child to handle, but mostly because of her sufficient look. He didn't understand why she was so important to his master. To him, she was nothing but another arrogant little brat.

"Should I report to Raphael that his beloved daughter disobeyed him again ?"

"What do you mean ? I was on my way to my chamber", she said, frowning. 

"Maybe....", he said shrugging his shoulders, "Or maybe not. After all, I just arrived and you two were here.... Together. And if I remember well, Raphael wasn't really happy about it the last time". 

Nubaldin knew that Luvia admired his boss as much as she was scared of his wrath. 

Enver could sense her frustration. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. Her eyes even began to glow for a moment, but she remained inflexible.

"That's what I thought", he added with a satisfied grin, then he looked at the boy, "You, with me. I'm not done with you yet, you bastard".

Enver wanted to fight back, he couldn't bear to be treated like that by this idiot. But he needed to keep a low profil if he wanted to have a chance to escape. He couldn't risk having his surveillance reinforced because of a misstep, so he followed the gnome without any protest. 

Luvia wanted to smile at him, to make him know he wasn't alone, that she cared. She really did. But her anger towards Nubaldin was so strong she couldn't feel anything else at this very moment.

She looked at him go without a word and ended up losing sight of them. 

She stayed in the corridors for a few seconds, thinking about what just happened, and what could happen to the young boy.

Anyways, she looked forward to grow up to show Nubaldin who he was dealing with...

To be continued....

Bonus:

[rosanna-writer]

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (8/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~3.6k

I'll be honest, I'm gunning for the most heart-wrenching soup scene in the Feysand tag with this one :)

Note that a couple lines are taken directly from ACOTAR book one.

Read on AO3 or you can find the eighth chapter below the readmore.

ch. 1 - the altar is my hips | ch 2. - an arrowhead leading us home | ch. 3 - by the way, i just may like some explanations | ch. 4 - can't not think of all the cost | ch. 5 - honey i rose up from the dead | ch. 6 - this mad, mad love makes you come running | ch. 7 - therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you | ch. 8 - it's not his price to pay

Rhys didn't stay long—we needed him upstairs, observing reactions to Lucien helping me and swaying Amarantha if it came to that. A quick clasping of hands and a whispered "stay safe," and he was gone.

I devoured another meal of stale bread and water and estimated a few hours passed before a pair of guards appeared to drag me to the throne room. I let them, not bothering to waste energy on struggling. Instead, I reached down the bond for Rhys.

She's making a point, and she wants you here to witness it. Stay as unassuming as possible.

That's all he said before his mind retreated again. I kept a crack open in my shields for him, and he didn't close his off completely, either.

When a guard threw open the doors to the throne room, I resisted the urge to look around for Rhys, even though I could sense that he was nearby. The room was crowded, but no strange music was playing. A gathering, then, but not whatever passed for a party Under the Mountain.

The guards threw me down at the foot of the dais, right in front of Amarantha. So much for remaining unassuming.

The rubies on her gown glittered in the torchlight, a perfect contrast to the rags I was still wearing. Even the servants here wore fine clothes. I'd looked pitiful scrubbing the floor, but here in this room, it was more than that. I'd never been more obviously a lone human surrounded by faeries, not even in the Spring Court.

"Rhysand was right. You do look dreadful," Amarantha said.

I ignored her. Tamlin was seated next to her, and I watched him for a reaction. It only occurred to me then that I hadn't even thought to ask Rhys what Tamlin had made of me disappearing for weeks, only to appear again and declare myself his champion.

Beyond not wanting him near me again, I hadn't thought of Tamlin at all.

From his vacant expression, I supposed he hadn't thought much of me, either. Other than the initial shock of seeing me alive, he'd barely even looked at me. Perhaps I was nothing more than a tool for him, to be used and discarded when the curse was broken.

"It's come to my attention," Amarantha said, crossing her legs and leaning against the arm of her throne, "that you had some assistance with the first of the chores you were assigned."

Maybe Rhys had been wrong and she meant to punish me, too. I pushed that thought aside before it spiraled into panic. "No one said I couldn't. Unless you're looking to re-negotiate our bargain?" I said with much more confidence than I felt. But still, I'd succeeded in bargaining with her once, and if she was inclined to do it again, I might win another advantage.

Down the bond, Rhys said, Be careful.

I am.

He went quiet again, probably to avoid distracting me. His mind hovered at the periphery of mine.

Amarantha laughed and turned to Tamlin. "Mouthy and difficult. She must have been such a headache for you," she crooned, clearly trying to get a reaction. Tamlin said nothing. I didn't, either. It's not as if I hadn't been called worse. "But no, I'm perfectly satisfied with our terms. The bargain didn't include a deadline to share the riddle I promised you, so in light of your recent behavior, I've decided to keep it to myself. We'll see if my mind changes before your first task."

She was letting me off with a warning—Rhys must have convinced her to. I wouldn't grovel, but I inclined my head slightly in recognition of what she'd done. "I understand," I said evenly.

Some of my fear drained away. There was still a path forward without the riddle, and it seemed I'd escape torture again today.

"There are still members of my court who have to answer for their behavior," Amarantha said, pointing at someone behind me and snapping her fingers.

I whirled around to see Lucien thrashing against the Attor as it tugged him forward by the collar of his tunic. I expected this, but my heart still sank as the Attor forced Lucien to his knees next to me. It smiled as it released him, and I felt sick.

Four red-haired males pushed their way to the front of the crowd. Lucien's fox mask made it impossible to know if they had similar features, but it was obvious enough that these were his brothers. Unlike him, they were all clad in the red and gold of the Autumn Court. They moved as a unit, a pack of wolves out for blood.

"Rhysand," Amarantha said, an obvious summons. Rhys strolled through the crowd, and I tried not to look at him as came to stand beside me and bowed at the waist for Amarantha. It was harder to be afraid with him so close, even as Amarantha flicked a finger in Lucien's direction and commanded, "Hold his mind, but don't crush it. I don't want to end this too quickly."

Mother above—there was a very good chance I was about to stand inches from Rhys as he shattered someone's mind. I understood he could do it, but that wasn't the same as watching it happen.

He didn't seal off the crack in his shields, which was a relief. I wouldn't let him do this alone. The blood will be on her hands. Whatever she makes you do isn't your fault.

There was nothing in response beyond a faint tug back. I dug my nails into my palms to curb the instinct to take his hand. The wild, irrational part of me ruled by the mating bond railed at any distance between us, even just a few inches.

"Yes, my queen," Rhys said, somehow sounding smug and deferential at the same time. A courtier through and through.

Lucien squared his shoulders and closed his eyes, clearly bracing for something. I let the dread show on my face.

Rhys cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, the only indication that he'd done anything. Having felt his talons in my mind, I suspected the movement was just showmanship, that all it would take was a half-hearted swipe and Lucien would be nothing more than an empty shell, even with only a scrap of Rhys's power available to him.

But the performance was clearly working. The crowd quieted as Lucien's entire body went stiff.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. He let out a groan. His brothers' smiles widened.

And then Tamlin—Tamlin—cried out, "Spare him. Please."

It was massively unfair of me, all things considered, but I couldn't help but feel a stab of betrayal at the sight of Tamlin pleading for Lucien's life when my running into danger for him hadn't gotten a thank you. Ruse or not, it was just a reminder that my growing feelings for him had been a one-sided means to an end. Thank the Cauldron I'd found Rhys when I did.

Through the bond, I felt the tiniest flicker of a distinctly fae, territorial satisfaction that could only have come from a mated male. Right. The crack in my shields. Rhys had heard my thoughts, and of course once they'd turned to him, he'd have an opinion.

I half-listened to Tamlin beg and used the opportunity to observe the reactions from the rest of the room. There were fewer horrified looks than I'd initially expected—Rhys crushing minds on Amarantha's orders must be routine here. If anything, the crowd looked bored, save Lucien's four bloodthirsty brothers.

The begging escalated to Tamlin kneeling at Amarantha's feet, and I caught a glimmer of lust in her eyes. If I'd noticed it from a distance, Tamlin must have picked up on it. But he didn't seem to see it for the opportunity it was.

I don't understand. Why doesn't he just hold his nose and fuck her, Rhys? His court might be safer that way.

Tamlin still has an intact sense of self-worth.

I understood the implications of that—Rhys had spent the last fifty years doing what Tamlin refused to because Rhys considered himself worthless enough to sacrifice. Ultimately, the Night Court was safer because of it. A sense of pragmatism does more good than a sense of self-worth. And you're a pragmatist.

Rhys didn't answer with words, just a pulse down the bond of something bittersweet I didn't quite understand.

The sound of Amarantha's voice dragged my attention back to her. "Because you asked so nicely," she said, every word dripping with a sadistic sort of delight, "I'll spare him as long as you're the one dealing his punishment."

"I'll do anything," Tamlin said. With his back to me, I couldn't be sure, but he sounded like he might be crying, or at least fighting off tears.

"Twenty lashes should do," Amarantha said with a shrug, so casual she might as well have been discussing the weather over tea.

That could be enough to kill a human; I wasn't sure if it would do the same to a faerie. Perhaps that was her plan all along—promise to spare Lucien, then have Tamlin mete out a punishment severe enough to kill him anyway. Then she could twist the knife and tell Tamlin that if he'd just controlled his strength better, it wouldn't have happened.

And worse, if I hadn't asked for help, this wouldn't have happened.

As Amarantha used her magic to produce a whip from thin air, Rhys's talons brushed my mind softly. This isn't your fault.

It was so much easier to believe that when I was the one saying it to him. The shame was deep enough to drown me. If only I'd seen this coming, figured something else out…

Tamlin took the whip and stepped down from the dais. Lucien dropped to his knees so abruptly that I suspected Rhys had forced him down. With a gentle hand, Tamlin brushed Lucien's hair over one shoulder and exposed his back. He murmured something to Lucien, probably an apology.

Before I was even sure what I was doing, I blurted out, "I'll do it instead. Don't force Tamlin."

Amarantha looked at me like I'd just given her a gift. And maybe I had.

The bond snapped taut, crackling with Rhys's fear as the crowd's attention shifted back to me. His worry was no surprise after he'd told me to stay unassuming when I'd first walked in. But as a human, my arms were weaker than Tamlin's—I'd injure Lucien less.

I think I owed Lucien that much.

"It's adorable how devoted she is to you, Tamlin," Amarantha said. "It's a shame there won't be anything left when I'm done with her. She'd make an excellent pet after a bit of breaking in."

At that, the anger I felt on Rhys's side of the bond was enough to bring down a mountain, but I couldn't turn and look at him. All I could do was trust his mask wouldn't slip.

Tamlin didn't come to my defense or even look me in the eye, just wordlessly handed the whip to me. Now that I was closer, I noticed shards of something white poking out from the rope, embedded right in the fibers.

Bone.

Amarantha had once served a king who sat on a throne of human bones—of course she'd use the same material to make lashings more painful. Taking a deep breath, I prayed my hands wouldn't shake.

I accepted the whip with my left hand instead of my right. With any luck, no one would have paid enough attention to know it was my weaker side. Using it might spare Lucien further pain.

Then there was nothing to do but grit my teeth and get to it.

Lucien didn't scream or cry out once, even as I made enough welts to crisscross his entire back. Instead, the only sound was Amarantha's gleeful laughter in between the numbers she made Tamlin count out. Somewhere in the distance, a woman sobbed.

I did my best to move my arm as weakly as I could without Amarantha deciding she was dissatisfied and adding more lashes. By the end, I wasn't sure it mattered—there was no exposed, unblemished skin left. Lucien's back was nothing but ribbons of torn skin running with blood. And all by my hand.

I was too numb for tears when I brought the whip down one final time. As I let it fall to the floor, I stared Amarantha down. Amarantha stared back.

"A human with ice in her heart indeed," she said, almost pensive but still loud enough for the whole room to hear. "You've already killed one of our kind, so perhaps this wasn't a difficult task for you."

That was when I truly understood there was no winning Under the Mountain. If she broke me, I was uninteresting enough to discard; if anything came too easily to me, she'd find some new, worse horror for me to endure. The riddle had been my best bet, and I doubted she'd offer it now.

With a wave of her hand, Amarantha dismissed me. I hardly registered it as the guards brought me back to my cell, and when the door slammed behind me, I expected tears to come. My eyes stayed dry.

I sat on the floor, not even bothering to move over to the pallet of hay, and stared at a spot on the wall. I hardly noticed the cold seeping into me from the stone floor. I barely felt anything at all.

Rhys arrived at some point, minutes or hours later. He held a bowl of soup, and it had been long enough since I'd smelled anything appetizing that for a moment, I thought I might be hallucinating it.

"Eat," he said, crouching to place it on the floor next to me.

"I'm not hungry," I said, though it wasn't quite true. I was hungry, but there was no food that seemed the least bit appealing. I had no desire to force myself to eat.

The darkness rippled around him, something I was learning was a sign he was angry. His voice went sharp as he said, "You do realize I can feel your pain through the bond, don't you? That includes your hunger pangs. Eat."

I narrowed my eyes at him and didn't touch the food. If he was here to give me a dressing-down for not keeping quiet in the throne room, I wished he'd just get to the point. "Why are you here?"

Rhys sighed and attempted to make himself comfortable on the pallet of hay. Dressed as immaculately as ever, he looked completely out of place as he crossed and uncrossed his legs. I waited for an answer.

"Because when you stared Amarantha down, your eyes looked hollow. Forgive me for being concerned."

My own irritation rose to meet his. It was hardly pleasant, but in a perverse way, I was glad to feel something. "And soup is supposed to fix that?" I snapped.

I was fully prepared for this to escalate into a full-blown fight, but the wind seemed to go out of Rhys's sails. The darkness around him faded. "I'd bring you hot food more consistently if it wouldn't make the kitchen staff wonder why I was suddenly eating double portions. I can manage this once without arousing suspicion, and you clearly need it tonight."

My own aggravation faded quickly, too. Perhaps it was another effect of the mating bond, but it was just as difficult to keep snapping at him as it was to let him go. I picked up the spoon, stirring the soup but not bringing a mouthful to my lips. I wanted to eat, but the thought of it also made me feel faintly sick. If I took a bite, I suspected it would just taste like ash.

When I didn't say anything, Rhys continued, "One of the more insidious things about this place is how we're all wasting away down here. I haven't wondered where my next meal would come from for the last fifty years, but my wings are so deconditioned from lack of use that I'm not sure I can fly anymore. Don't make the process any faster than it has to be. Eat. I'd rather not make you."

It was obvious he'd feed me himself if that's what it took, and I certainly didn't relish the thought of him jamming the spoon into my mouth. I forced down a few mouthfuls. Although it was well-spiced, the best I could say was that it was warm. I should have been delighted to finally taste a vegetable after days of nothing but bread and water, but I was still feeling too empty to enjoy anything.

Rhys watched me with a single-minded intensity that made the silence become oppressive. "You can give me your speech about how reckless I was," I said, just to break it. "I know you're dying to."

"There is no speech."

"No?" I said, raising my brows.

"I heard your thoughts and understand why you did it. Your choices are your own."

I double-checked that my shields were up and considered that as I ate. The ferocity in Rhys's voice told me he'd meant what he said. I just didn't know what that looked like in practice, not with the way the mating bond had shifted our worlds to revolve around each other.

One more thing to discuss later, then.

Perhaps it wasn't the time, but curiosity was getting the better of me. I changed the subject. "Do you normally take your meals with Amarantha?"

"Sometimes," he said nonchalantly. I still couldn't read him well enough to tell if he was putting up a front or if sharing meals was just such a small thing in light of torture and murder. Both could be true. "Just often enough to convince her that I enjoy her company. Tonight she's dining with Tamlin, and I'll be there to warm her bed when he inevitably rejects her advances."

It really shouldn't have surprised me anymore, but I nearly choked on the piece of carrot in my mouth. It made sense he'd go back to her tonight, though. "Don't run yourself ragged taking care of me when you have a long night ahead of you."

"Bringing you food is hardly a strenuous activity," he said, idly picking at a piece of hay sticking out of the pallet. His voice went softer as he added, "And it makes being her whore easier to bear."

I blinked. "It does?" I didn't see why it would—I'd felt his revulsion for myself. The mating bond made the act feel like a betrayal to me on top of being a violation. If anything, I'd thought it would be more difficult now.

"Knowing I've done something for you…it almost makes me believe I don't deserve what she does to me."

It might have been the most honest he'd ever been with me. I reached for him, but Rhys moved away faster than I could follow. He cast a significant look at the half-finished bowl of soup, a clear wordless order for me to finish before it got cold. I shot him a glare but didn't push, just continued eating.

We went quiet again, and I tried not to think about what it meant that we were communicating silently without even needing the bond.

Instead, I focused on finishing the soup as quickly as possible, so that Rhys would stop watching me as if there were nothing more important in the world. I didn't know how to handle it.

Not when it was a reflection of what I felt, too.

When I finished, I pushed the bowl aside but didn't approach him, as much as I wanted to. I wasn't sure it would be welcome. And more importantly, we might not have much time before he had to leave again. I spoke slowly and tried to choose my words carefully as I said, "If she doesn't expect you to stay long after it's over, come back down here. Wake me up if you need to. Or use the bond. You shouldn't be alone."

That was the worst part of being confined down here—Rhys could winnow in and help me on occasion, but I was trapped. More than ever, I understood just how his family felt about being unable to leave Velaris. I held onto that rage and frustration and hoped it would be enough to keep me from feeling empty again.

"I'll try," Rhys said, and it was the best I could hope for.

He waved a hand, making the empty bowl disappear, and stood. I got to my feet, understanding this was goodbye again. He couldn't linger when the role he played demanded that he'd be ready, waiting, and eager for Amarantha. I got to my feet.

Before I could say anything, he pulled me to him. Crushed against his chest, I felt his breath hitch. Being this close was like untangling a knot in the string connecting us. I hugged him back tightly.

But it couldn't last forever, and he stepped away all too soon. There was nothing to say, just an understanding that passed between us before he winnowed away. I managed to hold back my tears until he was gone.

And then I finally cried, and Rhys was the reason I was able to feel enough to do it.

I drifted off at some point, an attempt to get some rest before the inevitable nightmare ripped me from sleep. But it was a frantic pull on the bond that had me jerking awake and clutching my chest. Rhys's voice was in my head before I could ask what was wrong.

Change of plans. I'll explain later. In the meantime, do not drink anything unless it's been handed to you by me personally. And Feyre…I am so, so sorry.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #23

Prompt: Coughing Fit

Fandom/OCs: Howl’s Moving Castle (Howl and Sophie)

Words: 980

Sicknario inspo: Getting kicked out of bed due to coughing from this post

Author’s comments/background: Yet another excellent prompt that just needed a little context and the right characters. This can either be the book or movie characters. I think it’s generic enough either way. Howl and Sophie were some of my first fictional “couple goals” and it gives me no end of pleasure to write silly domestic things for thim. As I proofread this, I realized I didn’t give Howl any dialogue though. I decided to leave it, especially since I think I matched the original author’s tone pretty well overall and didn’t want to ruin it. 

~~~***~~~

Howl had been sick for a week. In truth, that should be all the explanation that is necessary for those who know about Howl and Sophie and the moving castle, but this particular story was one Sophie would never forget. It began with Sophie, for her part, being heartily sick (no pun intended) of the wizard and his horrid cold. 

This cold of Howl’s had started with lots of sneezing, as his colds always did, because sneezing allowed him to act as dramatic and victimized as he liked while garnering plenty of sympathy in the meantime. Sophie was practiced at ignoring this part of his colds. Of course she made him soup and ensured he dressed warmly to ward off fever and kept him well supplied with the floppy white paper handkerchiefs he favored, but his dramatics didn't disturb her, and usually his sneezy colds were short-lived.

 Once in a while, though, these colds devolved, usually into miserable, achy, feverishness that compelled him to stay in bed for another week or more. This, too, Sophie could manage. Howl was an easy patient when he was actually sick, subdued and sleepy, though with no small amount of self-pity and attention seeking, and Sophie was overall happy to oblige, if for no other reason than to remind him that he wasn't dying and all would be well. 

In this memorable instance though, after a night spent by the seashore working on a delicate, powerful spell, Howl's sneezing became chesty, persistent coughing. Soon the cough was accompanied by a low-grade fever that came and went, leaving him restless and lethargic and shaky in turns. 

Howl wasn't robust at the best of times and tended toward the pale, slight side, so the frequent, wracking coughs drained him quickly. He walked around in a light-headed daze most of the day, but lying down only made him cough more unless he was propped up by an exact configuration of pillows that Sophie could never quite manage to replicate. He spent much of the day wandering around listlessly, clutching a mug of tea, the only thing that seemed to ease the spasms. 

Nighttime was the worst. Sophie usually loved sharing a bedroom with her whimsical, magical partner, but this cough had both of them at their wit's end. Once Howl was properly propped up, he fussed and moaned for a long time until he fell asleep, always either too hot or too cold (since his fever seemed to spike just as he was going to bed each night) and clearing his throat every moment. Finally he would fall asleep, and then Sophie could follow, but it seemed the moment she would shut her eyes, he would burst out into one of his nasty, hacking fits, waking them both so that they'd have to start the whole process over again. 

By the fourth night of this, Sophie had all but had it. When a coughing fit woke her yet again hardly an hour after she'd dropped off, Sophie sat up out of bed in a towering rage. "Why can't you just be quiet?! You're supposed to be this great wizard, yet you can't stop coughing for five minutes so I can sleep?! Go find some tea or tonic or a bag for your head for all I care, only be quiet and let me sleep!!"

Howl gave her a mournful, injured look. Without a word he slid out of bed (Was he wobbling from a fever or just playing it up?), pulled the coverlet off to trail it behind him, and made his sluggish way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

Sophie lay fuming for a few more minutes, but slowly her frustration began to leak away. With guilt she realized she'd been horribly unfair to Howl. He couldn't help being ghastly ill, even if he did play it up a bit. After a moment's pondering, she hopped up and quickly remade the bed with the soft blankets Howl favored, then scurried down the stairs after him. 

Howl was propped up in the chair beside the fire, the coverlet wrapped around him haphazardly. His eyes were closed but his mouth had a pinched look that told her he wasn't asleep. She moved to his side and caressed his cheek. His eyes flickered open to regard her warily. She was struck by how unwell he looked in the dancing firelight, pale and hollow-eyed, and she felt the heat of a fever under her hand. His chest and collar bones twitched with his silent, constant coughs. 

"Forgive me. I'm tired, but I can't imagine how you feel, since you're the one doing the coughing in the first place. Let's get you back to bed. You'll really catch your death if you try to sleep down here."

She grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him up, resting his arm across her shoulders. He let himself be led to bed silently, and she sensed his deep weariness (along with a good measure of pouting) as he half-sagged against her as they mounted the stairs. She tenderly helped him back into bed, propping him up and tucking him in with a pan of coals for his chills. 

Once he was settled and nearly asleep, she made her way back down the stairs, her own deep fatigue slowing her steps and making her clumsy. Shoving things aside willy-nilly, she revealed the cubby under the stairs where she'd slept for the first months she'd spent in Howl's castle, and her little bed with the straw mattress was just as she'd left it, no worse for wear other than the dust. She fell into its welcoming embrace as if it were made of the softest down. In the blessed silence, she was deeply asleep in moments as the crackling fire sang her a lullaby. 

[magpiefngrl]

You know the square people use to decide what fics they’d take with them to a deserted island? I was thinking about it and I sat down and wondered what my top fics were from the HP fandom specifically. When I boiled it down from the hundreds I’ve read, 9 1/2 Days tied for first place with Heal Thyself by astolat. (Just after those two was The Miseducation of Draco Malfoy so I suppose you can tell that I love character development in fiction.)

What I love about your fic in particular though was that you didn’t shy away from the not-so-nice aspects of Draco’s personality, such as how he used to bully Neville or play tricks on Dobby. You addressed the more difficult aspects of his personality, implied strongly that it was in no small part, because of how he was raised, BUT at the same time, you did not reduce him to victimhood and I really really liked that.

A trope that comes up a lot in fiction (in general, not just fanfiction) is making a villainous character into a victim. It seems to be the fastest and easiest way to get the audience to root for them.

But that doesn’t always sit right with me, because sometimes it feels as if the writer is trying to get the audience to side with a particular character without any actual growth from that character. I think there’s a fine line here because an explanation for why a person is the way they are should not be used as a justification or an excuse for the harmful things they do.

That’s why I really really loved your fic. I loved that you used World War II and the Holocaust as a vehicle to help Draco address his own bigotry. That being lost in the world with Harry helped him to confront and struggle with the things he had taught to believe as opposed to what he was actually experiencing for himself. The romance between Harry and him was believable and breathtaking and didn’t take away from Draco’s journey. In all my years of reading, I’ve noticed that this is a very very hard balance to strike. One that even very successful, seasoned writers struggle with and you pulled off so gracefully! I’m in awe.

I’m sorry for the long comment and for rambling I just think you really need to know that your story was wonderful and I’m so glad, so thankful you wrote it.

Gosh. What a lovely and thoughtful ask 💗💗

I'm really happy to hear that you enjoy my fics, esp. 9 ½ Days, and I'm thrilled beyond words that you enjoyed the way the romance unfolded side-by-side with Draco's unlearning. It was indeed very hard for me to write a convincing romance which evolved little by little with Draco slowly changing at the same time. I banged my head on my desk so many times while writing the fic and it's a significant reason it took me 5 years to write.

I hear you re: Draco's growth and portrayal. One of my (many) pet peeves is fics portraying Draco as a victim who only got into the DE because he was being forced but in his heart he was an innocent baby. I find that this, besides being inaccurate, also strips Draco of all agency. It makes him nothing more than a puppet, which in turn makes him very boring. I find canon Draco fascinating. I like the idea that yes, he happily joined the magical equivalent of KKK and he used the equivalent of the n-word with abandon (while also being a bully and a rich toff that looked down his nose on people), and that later he saw some atrocities and realised the true meaning of belonging to a hate group. The cost of it. I imagine the enormity of his guilt and how hard he works in order to change himself, and all this is what makes him such a thrilling character. For me, anyway.

Heal Thyself deals with all this so well! I absolutely adore this fic. It blew me away when I read it. I kept pointing at the page and going "Yes! THIS!"

Look, I don't expect every single fic to make a song and dance about his redemption, sometimes a girl just wants to read a 3k PWP, you know? But when I come across a story where I can tell the author relishes in Draco's complexity, I sure do appreciate it.

I'm very pleased you liked the way I explored this side of him in the fic. Thank you for the very kind message! My fic being one of your desert island fics is so, so touching! I'm all emotional now 💗

[luckhissoul]

the sway of the boat would've been calming if the circumstances were different. but sitting here on the boat is hardly comforting in any sort of way. he feels rand's eyes on his back. burning holes into him. as if he's expecting him to do something. but mat doesn't want to do anything but watch the water. mat doesn't want to talk or give any kind of explanation. he wants to sit here, he wants to pretend like none of this happened. rand had left home so long ago that he feels like a different person. but there's more to it than just that. they had ended up on entirely different paths. when the hunters had come to town he hadn't realized exactly what they were. they spoke of mages and magic, the darkness it brought. and in his confused state, after losing rand, after everything he had thought that maybe it was right. maybe it was the truth. maybe -- but it was all maybe. all based on a feeling that he couldn't sort through. he had joined them in spite of that feeling. they trained him, they had made him feel like he had a purpose in this world. aimless, he had been aimless for a little too long, he knew that. his family knew that, everyone knew that. but then the hunters had been there.

they were after one man, they said. at least for now. a man who had proven to be evasive. but then he had found him. he hadn't expected it to be rand. but it had been, huddled away in some barn, waiting for a boat. he hadn't told him why he left, he had simply left. just like that. leaving him to wander, leaving him without any reason or explanation. it was a strange feeling, the realization that it was rand this whole time that they were looking for. he had thought that it would make him look different, seem different. but rand was still the kid that he had grown up with. rand was still - well, rand. and yet there was something different, wasn't there? there was a shade to his light eyes, something that never seemed to lift. he was less bright now, an edge to him. but still him. a strange contrast that mat could hardly wrap his head around.

mat hadn't gone back to the hunters, his friends. bloody zealots, he knew that now, in thinking back on all the things that they had said to him. what had he been thinking? that he could carve out a small place in this world. it was bloody stupid, he knew that. he felt stupid. especially now sitting here on this boat. rand had insisted that he couldn't come. but he had anyways, another mistake, he knew that much. but where else was he supposed to go now that everything had fallen apart? and why hadn't rand told him why he was running? why hadn't rand asked him to go with him? all the bloody explanations rand tried to give fell short. or ended with him asking about the hunters. so mat refused to speak to him. yes, he'd come with him. rand would need someone to pull him from the bloody fire when he was getting himself into all kinds of trouble. rand couldn't be on his own, he knew this. but rand seemed to think he had done something wrong by insisting. well, maybe he was right. going on the run with a bloody mage was dangerous. was it worth it? something told him that he was going to regret his more than anything.

"how much longer?" he asks, breaking through the quiet. the water is still. he can hear rand's movement, every now and then his breathing. but nothing else. he's not even talking! so what did he expect? an apology? rand didn't deserve one leaving the way that he had! it wasn't so much that mat had cared that rand was gone. he had managed on his own just fine. he had even made new friends. sure, he had left them on the other side of this water, without so much as a bloody word. and he was already starting to rethink their doctrine. but he had other friends, too. and there had been dozens of women who had kept him company. he didn't need rand! he just didn't like the way things felt so open ended, so disconnected. he rubs his hands together, blowing on them briefly so that he can get some much needed warmth. "it's bloody freezing out here." - @caracarnn

[hurtthemgently]

Ceran and his faerie

Pt 9: lies, truths, and in between.

Masterlist

Cw: non con touching and kissing, creepy comfort, blood, biting, vampire whumper, creepy/intimate whumper,

//forced to hide injuries, forced to deceive caretaker, emotional whump

Kimmi awoke to strong arms around them. One under their head, one around their waist. Without thinking, they pressed a kiss to the portion of arm next to their head. They were pressed snugly to whoever was in the bed with them. Fighting hard not to think about who it was, they tried to settle back into sleep. They’d had their wings glamoured, so the steady breath pressing into their back only served to make them even comfier.

He stirred slightly and pulled them closer, hand pressed under their ribcage, elbow wrapping around them. He nuzzled into the back of their neck, sending shivers down their spine. Not entirely unpleasant shivers.

They swallowed and tried to keep control of their breathing. Keeping a handle of their pulse had been out of the question for a while now.

He shifted, taking a breath and leaning to press into them even more. “Good morning love.”

His voice was soft and tired. Unlike the voice he used when he was thinking of something torturous, which was soft and cruel. They relaxed a bit. “Wasn’t your sister supposed to arrive today?”

“Yeah… she’ll be here..” he reached out with magic to check the time on his phone, not wanting to physically move. “In about an hour.”

“Is there anything you.. need to get done?” They hoped that he’d leave. Or let them leave.

“Nope.” He shifted, pulling his arm from under them, and leaned up to press kisses the side of their neck. Kimmi grit their teeth, barely containing a sigh. They gasped when teeth sunk into their neck.

He was practiced at feeding, and kept it as painless as he could- but he couldn’t help twisting his tongue, feeling as their heart quickened at the touch.

They gasped quietly, realizing they had been holding their breath. He pulled away, and pressed a finger over the wound. The pressure hurt more than the actual bite, and they yelped.

“Hey, hold still, I’m just gonna stop the bleeding.” He kissed them, making them taste their own blood, before wiping a tear from their cheek.

“I could do with a morning snack more often, maybe I should keep you in here permanently.” He reached and grabbed a paper napkin from the nightstand, replacing his finger with it.

He let them hold the napkin in place while he got a bandage.

——

After placing the bandage on their neck, Ceran had gone, giving no explanation as to that he was doing. This left Kimmi to themself. They leaned against the wall, trying to get ahold of their glamour.

It could hide their expressions, but they’d have to be careful with their words and movements. Deception was a difficult process, one they’d learned from years in the world of the fae.

But this.. hiding something they didn’t actually want to hide… they weren’t sure. Taking a deep breath, they sang the proses that wove their glamour, holding it in place. The more they reapplied the glamour the stronger and more complex they could make it.

The sound of an engine approached the house. Separating the blinds of the window, they saw a figure on a motorcycle coming up the driveway.

They’d have to be careful.

——

“Been a long time.” Mentari pushed her motorcycle into the garage, wincing at the scratches and dings it had accumulated off road.

“Five years isn’t that much. We’re both almost a century old.” He brushed a hand against the paint, a scratch sizzling away with magic.

“It’s a lot when our little brother is 15. You should call mom.” She almost said something more, but decided against it. Moving on, she continued speaking. “So what’s this about you dating someone new? I thought you gave up on ever loving someone again.”

Ceran snorted. “Ha-ha. I met them only a couple weeks ago.”

“And you’re already living together?”

“They needed a place to stay. I had them in- I lent them the guest room for a bit, but they wanted to sleep in my room. And of course I’m not gonna refuse that.”

“Sure.” She narrowed her eyes. “I smell.. fae? Not another unseelie I hope.” The teasing smile was quick to return.

“Nooo, I’ve learned my lesson. Kimmi is from the spring court.”

“I hear footsteps.” She turned her head to listen into the house. “I would really like to meet this ‘Kimmi.’ They sound.. interesting.”

——

Kimmi had changed into the warmest clothes they could find, taking full advantage of the deal they’d made. They descended the stairs as quiet as possible, even though the the two vampires could probably hear them anyway.

They paused, seeing the two of them in the kitchen, Ceran leaning against a counter, his sister sitting on the counter opposite.

They could not have been more different. Ceran wore flannels, button downs, sweaters. They’d seen him fake glasses even.

She had a leather jacket, spikes on the shoulders, her steel toed boots rested on the back of a chair.

“So you’re this mysterious faerie I’ve been hearing about. Nice to meet you, I’m Mentari.” She jumped down and stepped over, holding out her hand.

“Oh umm, hi.. im usually called Kimmi.” They shook her hand, careful to keep their fae magic out of the conversation. “Nice to meet you too.”

“So, hey would you mind picking up that part you need for my cycle?” She directed the question at Ceran, changing the conversation. “That way the two of us can have time time to get acquainted.”

“Oh sure yeah.” He looked at her for a second before shrugging and turning to leave, unconcerned since the deal would make it impossible for Kimmi to tell her anything.

As soon as he left, Mentari sat back on the counter, elbow resting in her knee, head in her hand.

“I hope my brother hasn’t been too much trouble.” She smiled, knowing the expression could be heard in her voice.

“Oh umm.. he hasn’t really caused any problems.” Lots of pain and fear and anxiety. But not problems.

“Good. If he bothers you tell me, I’ll break a plate over his head.” She laughed, listening for the garage door to close.

“So what’s actually going on.” She turned serious the moment Ceran was out of earshot. Don’t try and diflect, I can tell that’s what you’re doing.

“I’m not sure what exactly you’re talking about.” They turned away to hide how their jaw tensed involved.

“Are you sure about that? Because the moment I asked that question your heartbeat skyrocketed.” She sounded concerned.

“I- I don’t know how you want me to respond.” A safe answer. One that didn’t violate the deal. Since she already knew… they tried to shape the words. ‘He kidnapped me.’ The sound never came. ‘He’s keeping me as a blood bag.’

“I was afraid this would happen.” She sighed, laying on the countertop. “He’s always been inclined to keep favourites. And if the way he’s treating you is in any way similar to back then, then you’re probably not okay right now.”

“I… he promised he wouldn’t hurt me.” Like a script. The words came automatically. Prepared.

“For how long?” She looked surprised.

“For… until.. until you leave.” They could feel the magic, as it swirled through their words. It wouldn’t stop them from saying anything that she didn’t already know.

She sighed and put her head in her hand. “I had really hoped this wouldn’t happen. Look, I don’t know how much I can actually do to help. I’m sorry.. please don’t get your hopes up.”

“B- but you’re his older sister… isn’t he supposed to do what you say?” Isn’t that how siblings work?

“No? I honestly can’t make him do anything. He’ll respect my word until a point.. but I don’t know where that point is. I’ll do my best to talk to him. I want to help I really do..”

Kimmi nodded, heart sinking. “I- I understand.” They bit back tears.

“I’m sorry..” she looked distressed.

“It’s-” they turned away. “It’s… I understand..” they couldn’t say it was okay. It wasn’t okay. They left the room and went upstairs.

From her spot on the counter, Mentari lowered her head, not wanting to hear their breathless attempts to hold back sobs.

——

Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpsday @whumpycries @pigeonwhumps @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @sola-whumping @greenwhump

[puellafuriadarkmagica]

Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Tree in the Storm Like the Breath of a Child

I remember this title is from something by the Bee Gees, but honestly I don't care about them enough to remind myself which track it actually is. My very own father attests that the Bee Gees are the greatest disco band of all time, and frankly, I think he's nuts for it.

"Beauty endures only for as long as it can be seen; / Goodness, beautiful today, will remain so tomorrow." - Sappho of Lesbos

This was about Thalia, obviously, but now I'm not even sure if I'd call her strictly "good" either. If I had to sum up where she's at in a word, it would probably be more like "bewildered".

I'm getting into reading the chapter proper now, and it feels a little strange to do so. I want to stress that I consider chapters 1-3 one "episode" of PFDM, if you will, so to do this days apart from when I read the first two feels quite unlike the intended experience. Yes, I released it weeks after chapters 1 and 2 in real time as well, but that's because (as I hope is obvious by now) PFDM really has a target audience of one, and that one is me. Your collective experience doesn't matter to me at all, and in fact, doesn't exist.

That's the sickest twist of all! PFDM is stored entirely on my computer! I never at any point actually published any of this, and you're all just vividly dreaming up what I would have posted. Your dream sucks, by the way. You think that's the best I could write? I promise you, the real PFDM, which you will never see, is actually much better.

wait where was i going with this

Right, so chapters 1-3 are one whole sort of thingy to me, and I actually wrote all three simultaneously. I would have roped chapter 4 into the mix, but this was the best I could do before New Year's/ In a sense, this was the pilot. So I really had to refine the tone and style. I think I missed on some of the finer details, but there were a lot of jokes these chapters had originally that ended up cut because I didn't think they really felt like PFDM, you know?

Thalia winced beneath the hood of her jacket as yet another firework let out a deafening flash too directly overhead for her liking. She wasn't the type to fit in.

Completely forgot how long I kept her physical appearance under wraps for. Not long in the grand scheme of things, mind you, but back when the chapter count was still knocking single digits it felt like an eternity. I guess you had to be there. Now every chapter individually feels pretty minor, all things being what they are. Well, in hindsight. When it comes to forthcoming chapters I'm kind of raving madly at how to arrange them, especially since part 3 is nearly [REDACTED] of the way done, and there are only [REDACTED] chapters left after that!

Thalia shivered when she locked eyes (or eye, in her own case) with the girl who had just tapped her shoulder.

I've gradually come to imagine Hope as a fair way shorter than I originally did, which makes this more difficult to imagine. Is Thalia slouching? Are they going down some stairs? Is Hope actually tall? I don't know. Send your answers to 4 Mianga Avenue, Engadine, New South Wales, C/O puellafuriadarkmagica.tumblr.com.

The Incubator took this as an opportunity to butt in with an explanation. "Phoebe stepped in to stop two enemy magical girls from killing each other. She wanted them to understand each other's point of view. To make a long story short, all three girls share the same body, gem, and for the sake of convenience, name now." "…Wow. What's that like?" Phoebe laughed. "I suppose it depends on which one of me you ask!"

So I'm pretty sure I plural-coded a character here without actually intending to do that, understanding that this was what I was doing, or being aware of the ramifications of doing so. If she comes across as pretty two-dimensional rep for that, I apologise. That straight-up wasn't even my plan.

"It's cool, it's so cool you could hold it on a swollen eye and numb it,"

This line I can mark up to the fact that I think I was showing my partner Hitchhiker's at the time, and it ended up coming out like one of Zaphod's chronically uncool quips. That's probably good, actually. I don't think Phoebe is very cool very often.

I also want to point out that the name Deckard is an obvious hat-tip to Do Androids Dream and Blade Runner. The Attendants all calling each other by last name but the citadel residents being on a first name basis is also very Blade Runner-y, but I don't remember the book well enough to be able to say that they do that in there too.

Though it was growing late and he found himself accosted by the looming inevitability of sleep, Bill stayed as awake as he could. He was an artist, as it happened, and though she couldn't muster a single cent, the attentive looming of his biggest fan spurred him on to make manifest the visual abstractions of his thoughts and feelings he had set out to make. This, he believed, was his duty as an artist. This was his raison d'être, and even if he was only doing it for a penniless, quiet teenage girl with a tattered coat and a face only a mother who was looking at something else could love, then he was doing it nonetheless!

No joke, Bill Campbell was introduced here because I originally planned for him to have a part in a climactic moment in part 4. I've since decided that that's pretty fucking stupid. He might be another one-off character, I'm afraid.

Unbeknownst to Bill, this was the second time a complete stranger had shouted this at his sole fan in the last twenty minutes, and the second time that stranger had been a magical girl. It was, perhaps, just as well that he didn't know, because learning this would have had no bearing on his life whatsoever and completely wasted his time.

Where did the early-game jokes like this go? I kind of miss them. They don't feel like they're around so often anymore. Maybe they are and I just don't notice.

"Her?" He spluttered. "She wouldn't hurt a fly!" "I'd be impressed if she could, though." "How's that?" "Insects don't feel pain, sir."

Genuine contender for a top ten spot in a list of PFDM jokes, I think.

I don't think Phoebe's transformation sequence is very strong, because I hadn't got my bearings yet. I'm glad if anyone got the dud one, it was her.

Thalia crept out from behind a concrete pillar. She wished she knew some curses so that she could whisper them to herself. She had been hunting the collector witch, and along came these happy-go-lucky hotshots and claimed the battle for themselves? How despicable.

Once all this is over, I might post all the witch names and titles somewhere. They probably won't all fit in the story (the important ones still have so far, and will continue to, however).

I've said it before, but the labyrinth sequences are based on the mid- and late-career works of the playwright Sarah Kane. Those are definitely worth a read if you've got the fortitude for them, but they get heavy like nothing else I've seen. Particularly 4:48, for reasons which I hope are obvious.

Now that I think about it, I guess I can't let that one sequence from Evangelion episode 22 not crack a mention. Best episode of the show, quite frankly. One of my beta readers is going to very very strongly disagree with me for this, but it's better than End of Evangelion. But what would they know? They're not writing PFDM.

Crucial addendum: I am being tormented.

A smile on her face and the usual dose of nightmare fuel in her mind, Marie turned and left at what happened to be precisely 11:59:50 P.M.

This sequence is a bit cliché, but it's still a personal favourite of mine. It was really meant to be one big sign off to this kinda-sorta pilot, and I wanted that to be a grand cross-section of where PFDM has the potential to go. I hope it works?

Ruth sat forward in her armchair, as if sheer force of will could clear the picture quality on her television. She cast her mind back to this day twenty-two years prior, before Sarah had wound up in that fight that left her in her current state. Before Graham - the right proper piece of shit - had announced that he couldn't love his own daughter anymore and run away. For sixteen years, New Year's Day had cemented itself in her mind as a family occasion, and it had never quite stopped feeling that way. Then again, her daughter sitting silently by her side had always been the only family she ever needed.

Take for instance our first look at Ruth here. You get next to nothing about her, and were it not for the narration's mention of her in chapter 2, you might be forgiven for thinking she has nothing to do with the rest of this story. But I've established that (very tenuous) link already, so it should be pretty obvious that all of these are interconnected. Again, I don't know how effective this actually is, because I already know everything that's going to happen. But I remember being pretty shitting pleased with myself at the time, and I pretty much still am.

Lara stood up the back of the crowd by the Harbour Bridge, still grinning with relief. The countdown had been timed perfectly. Her sister had just asked her why the back of the jacket had said what it did, and she was mortified by the possibility - the All-Permeating Abyss in all its infinite dark majesty forbid! - that she would have had to provide an answer! Life wasn't about answers, in her opinion. Life was about a black leather jacket with "Do Not Resuscitate" stitched on the back. Life was also all about flirting with Madeleine, she supposed, but at least Sisyphus took breaks to let his boulder roll down the hill. She could wait.

I'm really rapid-firing these nods to characters you haven't met yet, and there's so much for you to chew on. You already get mentions of Lara's thoughts falling to Sinead Macquarie and Madeleine Whitman, without - and this is crucial - ever once exposing the fact that Lara is the Macquarie that Marie was thinking about in chapter 1. Then I go ahead and name drop the Abyss for funsies. I'm on a roll here.

Hours later, on the other side of the world, Margaret leaned back in her diner chair whose creak in response suggested that it was the elder of the two. The look on the face of the girl across from her said she would really rather be anywhere else, but if she had any intention of speaking as much aloud, it was cancelled out by her embarrassment at the absurdity of her situation. Besides, the two of them had a very important job in the days ahead, and work only became more pressing in the festive season. "You could at least get your feet off the table," she telepathized. Margaret pretended not to hear.

I don't think anyone picked up on the fact that this scene probably takes place in the United States as given by the fact that it uses American spelling rules, but it was there. Wait maybe Americans say "canceled"? I don't understand how they treat double Ls.

Wai-Fong braced herself a mere fraction of a second before she burst shoulder-first through the seventh-storey window and hurtled toward the street below in a shower of glass and blood (mostly not even hers!). Time slowed in freefall, and a jet of flame from the explosion spewed forth from her impromptu escape, very narrowly missing her head. As she turned to look, three enormous, bony arms clawed their way out of the building's exit wound. She winced. No doubt the witch that used to be the girl she was just fighting. As she readied her weapon, she felt a small degree miffed at forgetting until now that she said she would be studying for her finals tonight.

And back to British spelling rules! Plus a character with a Cantonese name. I really don't think guessing where this one was set was anything resembling a challenge. Also Wai-Fong was a character I really didn't have any direction for at this stage: I kind of winged her early chapters. Which honestly surprised me, because now she is, in my opinion, one of the characters with the biggest personality in the story.

Hüriye's eyes snapped open. She stumbled backward into her turntables and stopped them silent. Instantly, all eyes in the room were upon her. She grinned. Her mind swam with the infinite possibilities self-realization brought. She knew the way to a joyous and fulfilling life. She loved herself, and she knew that the corner of the universe she called a self loved her back. She knew that when she woke up tomorrow, it would be to the first dawn on a perfect life, one where she could- Huh? Oh, shit. The music.

I think Hüriye's pronouns here versus in the rest of the story serve as a pretty big hint for what their realisation might have entailed before they outright say it soon after their proper introduction. Honestly, if I were you and I hadn't figured this out, I'd be kicking myself a little. Just saying. Not even to be rude or anything, I'm just saying.

The youngest daughter of an eons-ancient force of destruction stirred from her sleep, woken by the counting down of the humans ignorant enough to believe themselves her parents. For a moment, she thought she saw a shadow by her doorway - poised like a cat, but with longer ears and a bigger tail - but when she rubbed her eyes and blinked, it was gone. She was hungry. Hungry in a way she didn't know other people weren't. She didn't understand what the urge really meant she wanted. This feeling was normal to her, but she had never quite satisfied it, and she assumed it was something that would come and go as a standard part of growing up. In a sense, it was. Every child on the path to becoming a teenager wanted to destroy the universe. What made her so special was that she could actually pull it off.

Now you're probably wondering, "Hey, DARKMAGIC313, why are we seeing this kid whose relevance still hasn't come into play, and not a character I actually care about, like Adia Musyoki?" Well, first of all, that's not my real name, but it would be sick as hell if it was (were?). Second, patience. You'll like this kid, I promise. Third, as I hope is obvious by now BUT IF IT ISN'T DON'T READ THIS BIT, STOP READING THIS PARAGRAPH AND SKIP AHEAD TO THE NEXT ONE, countdown numbers six through three are all showcasing a tangentially relevant character introduced in parts one through four respectively. And fourth, and perhaps most embarrassingly, I hadn't come up with Adia at the time. Yeah, go ahead and laugh. This is a self-parodying, over-the-top political thriller, and I didn't even plan for it to have a hacker character from the very beginning. Shame on mother fucking me.

Beyond the limits of the universe as all of the above understand it, untouched by the white lies called time and space, a brilliant deity draped in a flowing black cloak writes by the deep blue light of her soul gem. Her words are inert as she pens them, but their meaning is alive and dynamic, shifting into the shape of a cosmos. This cosmos, too, is filled with life where she wills it - or does it will her to write? Which one informs the other? - life which understands itself through the words she builds them from. She is the speaker-god, and her words and the universe are one and the same. And she's mighty humble, too.

I do like how quickly we dropped the title of speaker-god. I've been doing a lot of this thing where the narration strips a character of their titles when it becomes apparent that they're undeserved. Maybe I'm not doing that as much as I think I am, actually. I can't think of any other example except for the bit in the most recent chapter where the narration takes to calling Whitman "Madeleine" when Marie starts humiliating her. Still, even if that's only two points of data, that's something.

PART 1: UNTIL THE DARK

The part names are also lyrical quotations, and in fact, all are connected to the titles of their first chapters - part 1 shares an artist, part 2 an album, and part 3 an actual song. The logical conclusion is that part 4 would be exactly the same as the title of the first chapter in it, but for some reason I'm a little doubtful I want to do that. I have a much better name for it in my head anyway. Maybe even a few much better names.

PRETTY OBLIQUE SPOILER ALERT: I also want to point out something I deliberately kept hidden in my part retrospectives - PFDM actually draws a lot of parallels to Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon (for more or less the same reason PMMM proper draws a lot of parallels to Goethe's Faust - it's pretty emblematic of an entire artistic movement whose vibes PMMM is jacking). The first that I make apparent (to my recollection, anyway - I may have missed something) is the part titles loosely paralleling those of Gravity's Rainbow. Until the Dark : Beyond the Zero The Champs-Élysées is a Busy Street : Une Perm au Casino Hermann Goering (really naming a location in French is the only connection here, but I only had so much to work with to keep the part title-chapter title connection working. I did say the connections were loose.) A World of Twenty Thousand Girls : In the Zone (this one pretty much only makes sense on top of how otherworldly Gravity's Rainbow's Zone actually actually is.) I feel like me telling you all this is maybe a pretty hefty giveaway about the trajectory of certain narrative threads and framing devices, but I don't know how much you guys actually investigate this kind of thing. Maybe I can say all this and get away with it just fine. Maybe I was overly cautious in neglecting to point any of this out in the part writeups, and/or maybe where this plot differentiates from that one is enough to keep you thrown off the tail, and/or(!) maybe even if I give you this hint, theorising about where I'm taking things will be no less, or maybe even more rewarding! Again, the curse of actually writing this is I have no way of knowing for sure how the audience feels.

Dark magic has been a phenomenon observed among magical girls since before the evolution of the modern magical girl (Puella Furia)

I am pretty sure that this was a hell of a bombshell to drop though. I think we're still dealing with the ramifications of these magical girls being further along the evolutionary chain than their counterparts in the source material.

Dark magic, true to its name, does not interact electromagnetically, and thus cannot be observed by an individual who is incapable of perceiving their surroundings without a body's sensory organs. Typically, this restricts observation to magical girls (in the various stages of their life cycle) and those similarly aware of their souls as in, for instance, the Incubator.

I deliberately avoided also saying wraiths here, even though I'm pretty sure that this early on I knew that they were going to be showing up in part 2.

As advances in the understanding of dark magic continue, the phenomenon's discovery is misattributed to significant contributors to the study of magic. These include Penelope of Skyros (310 BCE - 291 BCE), for her use of it in elaborating on the Aristotelian conception of a "fifth element", Aisha bint Hassan (703 - 739), the first person to write the equations for dark magic stability and its relation to emotional energy usage when her trail of thought became derailed while she was trying to figure out how to fit a rolled-up rug through the front door of her house, Anneliese Holzknecht (1828 - 1871), whose extensive writing on the matter had resulted in the SI unit for dark magic being named the Holzknecht (abbreviated as Hk), and who had invented both the time paradox and being found dead 7000 kilometres from the last place you were seen, and Rachel R. Parker (1981 - 2002), who had actually coined the term.

The saddest part of writing PFDM is how short I have to make everyone's lifespans. Except Anneliese Holzknecht, who I hope is pretty obviously a pet favourite of mine at this point. Actually, a very VERY early version of the story plan (i.e. before Macquarie and all that) was going to have her be part of the main gang, and also immortal. I since decided that was patently ridiculous, and that I ended up finding her more interesting long-dead than alive (although she did live for quite some time!), so I kinda-sorta moved her immortality across to Whitman, and changed it more to an immunity-type power. More recently, I've started reading You Bright and Risen Angels by William T. Vollmann, which incorporates centuries-old immortals into its main cast much funnier than I would have anyway.

Parker's coinage of the phrase came about in 1998, in response to the discovery of "dark energy" named to suit the nomenclature established by dark matter. She had come up with it during a game of table tennis, wherein she had joked that if the name ended up sticking, the entities whose bodies were comprised of dark magic would have to be renamed to "witches" and "familiars" and was shocked to discover the following week that this was exactly what had happened. What she was not shocked to discover, however, since neither she nor anybody else ever knew this, was that mere days after she made this joke, a woman in another country altogether was giving birth to an immaculately conceived child. Had she known, her entire understanding of consciousness and free will would have been thrown into question and it's entirely possible that this would have made her feel less bad about the joke in comparison.

I have no doubt in my mind that the name "witch" only being a decade old has caused hella plot holes in the historical sections. If it has, I'll probably patch these up. Not entirely sure if I care enough to, though? We'll see.

Anyway, that's all for now. See you next time for chapter 4, the first chapter I wrote live as we were updating!

[cats-thoughts]

Valkyrie (feat. Laura Brehm) ~ Varien

(note: this song is part of a trilogy! I highly recommend listening to Valkyrie II: Lacuna and Valkyrie III: Atonement to get the full experience!)

YIPPEE 14 MINUTES OF SONG :D /gen

okay definitely not the most creative answer, but this song is very Ender Knight.

WAIT NO. NOW THAT I'VE HEARD THE OTHER 2 SONGS THIS IS 100% THE GOD OF THE INFINITE

basically, it's a mc oc of mine, an explanation for why so many roleplay worlds have limited lives now.

In the past- very past, I'm talking Indev Minecraft- there were many gods, and one of them was the god of the infinite. Alongside it was its sister, minor god of the Farlands.

The god of the infinite brought respawn throughout every world it went to. Alongside this, it always respawned itself (whether it wanted to or not) and could theoretically take respawn away from anything.

The other gods were afraid of that power and in an attempt to kill the god of the infinite, accidentally killed its sister, farlands, as well. The weapon was an overwrite of respawn, a permadeath blade, but when they tried to use one on the infinite- well, it didn't work. Unfortunately being basically the god of respawn, it literally cannot NOT respawn. Farlands wasn't so lucky, though.

Infinite, Blinded by rage, set about the goal of killing literally everything. Forever. And obviously, the other gods tried to stop it. It was a very, very long fight, between the Infinite and all of the other gods. It wasn't the best fighter amongst them, or even the best magic user. It just kept coming back. Every time the Infinite respawned, it got all of its energy back and was fully healed. A Million Papercuts, and whatnot.

The gods would kill it, and it would be back within seconds, back to flinging itself at them over and over again until one died, and then another, and so on. So eventually they started sending new gods after it, weak but in great supply as the world churned them out to replace dead gods, one after the other, to hold their own for as long as possible before dying. 300 years of fighting, never letting the Infinite rest or respawn, and it finally tired out.

It fell into a deep sleep, (sometime during beta, near 1.9) and the other gods locked it in the void for what they hoped would be eternity.

Unfortunately without its magic, respawn became strained, more and more worlds turning Hardcore (words deleted upon player death, leaving nowhere for the player to respawn, and therefore they simply never do) and infinite respawn worlds becoming rarer and rarer- now there were worlds where you only had 3, or 10, or 100. Or ones where you had to kill other players to steal their respawns.

So they brought it back, locked in a mortal form, without any memories or powers. Now it wanders worlds, exploring, utilizing the fact that it never seems to stay dead to defeat monsters and bosses and escape even the most dangerous of situations unharmed. And everywhere it goes, infinite respawn follows.

It's so traumatized <3

This was literally inspired by the fact that I played a Minecraft map and then, instead of being good at the game and defeating the bosses like I was supposed to, like for example dodging the attacks, I just. Stood still and rapid fired my weapons at them until I died, and then did the same thing again after I respawned. I got over 1000 deaths. I did TRY to play the game as intended but despite having played this game for like. 8 years. I'm SO bad at it you have No idea I am just Awful at it-

[mangacat201]

I posted 1,995 times in 2022

That's 277 more posts than 2021!

23 posts created (1%)

1,972 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@queenklu

@ahhhnorealnamesallowed

@the-marathon-continues-nip

@hattalove

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

I tagged 1,906 of my posts in 2022

Only 4% of my posts had no tags

#0 - 53 posts

#laugh rule yo - 77 posts

#the devil judge - 74 posts

#911 fox - 55 posts

#resource post - 48 posts

#the untamed - 41 posts

#duuuuuuuuuude - 37 posts

#word of honor - 34 posts

#bad and crazy - 34 posts

#true dat - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#yeah once i realized how small their size of canon interaction actually is i went like 😳😳😳 because headcanon was so vast and limbo like

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Can you explain the origin of goncharev???

Ahhhhh... my friend your ask has set me with a nigh impossible task, for Goncharov as a phenomenon is a many-legged kraken whose suckers will snag any unsuspecting tumblr-fish swimming by while its center remains hidden by the jagged edges of the digital reef.

But i will try!

See, it started with a shoe.

No, it started with someone making a shoe who did not know what they were doing.

Nay, it started with someone being slapped with the dodgeball of Apollo's gift of prophecy and predicting that tumblr would hence come together to invent a piece of media and create a Fandom out of it so vast and authentic, people outside the hivemind would believe it was real and start to be driven mad with trying to find the source that only exists in the shape that is left empty by all the fannish things created around it.

And the tumbrlinas would be so delighted by their own work that they perpertuated it to the point of alerting its supposed creator who then went IN ON THE BIT.

And so the new fannish corner of the internet trundles on, continuing to make art and writing and music and meta discussions and we looked upon it and shared it as good.

Or, you know, you can have the origin explainer post (as far as i can tell) here🤣🤪🤭:

9 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

#4

I miss them.

The emotional build up of this SENDS me.

11 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#3

Just sitting here, minding my own business. Meanwhile my spider plant a few days ago started to try and establish first contact with baby!Groot. Don't really know what to do with that🤣.

12 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#2

𝐓𝐀𝐆 (𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄) 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

Got tagged by @hedgewyse whom I was very happy to get to know better via this tag game, thanks a lot! Sorry it took so long to respond, I needed to get on tumblr on the laptop where I can actually type up text and I had a lot of things going on this past week that kept me LOL.

Favourite colour: Blue.

No explanation, not particular reason why, it’s just always been blue. All shades from deep purple to almost white. But I have a special place in my heart for the word ‘turquoise’, which I feel is just so the most. 

Currently reading: Oh good gosh, my open doc reading list is so long, I will constrain myself to the most recent things...

“(Love is)The second oldest profession” The 9-1-1 Buck/Eddie pornstar!AU I knew I needed but kept for a special occasion

I’m also reading “Achtsam Morden” a national German bestseller and the first actual like physical book I’ve picked up in probably four years. It’s hilarious and murdery and perfect

I’m listening to “Blood & Paper” by Kevin Hearne (whom I recently got to meet at a book signing event when he was visiting here and a friend asked me to spontaneously tag along - best decision in ages) Love the audiobook version read by Luke Daniels, he’s a whizz with the accents.

“Hide the drums (there’s fire in the sky)” latest installment of the Magical Marriage Ribbons-Verse, the Untamed Mega Saga, for which the author starandrea has been posting a chapter every day since May 31st 2020, so 805 consecutive days as of now without missing ONE. It boggles the mind. (I’ve started reading when the verse was ... oh I think about three parts in, I haven’t missed one too since then)

Last song: “The Greatest Show on Earth” - Nightwish, it’s my soundtrack for my daily yoga practice (no I am in fact not joking), so it doesn’t really count last leisure listening was the soundtrack of ‘Robin Hood - Das Musical’

Last series: Ooofff... ok, so many balls in the air at the same time. I’m watching “The Sandman” of course, as you do and loving it. Also “Extraordinary Attorney Woo” which is THE MOST(tm). Recently finished my rewatch and catch-up of “Manifest” and rewatched a couple of episodes of The Devil Judge with a friend who just started and that I got into it, remembering why I can’t be normal about those boys (and how delightful it is to rewatch with someone experiencing sth for the first time). Of course went down the magnificent and batshit crazy rabbithole that is Kinnporsche. Also, “Tomorrow” which is definitely my fav K-Drama of 2022.

Last movie: Day Shift - Fun and a nice remix of vampire tropes that you don’t really see on top of each other a lot. But it felt more like a set up to a movie trilogy I don’t know if it’s made enough impact into getting, so the premise might have been served better as a mini series? ...The Gray Man, which was solid and enjoyable and absolutely bonkers with how hilarious it was to watch Chris Evans have a ton of fun playing straight up, no holds barred, unredeemable villian. Ryan Gosling can stay... Ana de Armas is queen bee.

Currently working on: My last day of vacation :sob: and of course my WIP/plot bunnie enclosure excel spreadsheet (yes, I do not do things by half until I halfass writing them). Anyway, actual words or plotty thinky thoughts were put into:

- The Devil Judge a/b/o PWP (that has, so far, about 5k of set up and no porn) with a Jung Sunah made them do it scenario and non-traditional dynamics (yeah, idek...)

- Vincenzo Inception fusion - Jang Han Seo wakes up from getting shot to a curious set up of sleeping people around him (really really wanna write this one but the premise is so vast I’m afraid of flaming out again)

- three separate 9-1-1 Buddie fics of varying size and scope that reaches from one’s in love the other isn’t and confessions make things complicated (or do they), the fall out from the truck bombing goes the other way for Buck & the “Eddie deals with his 5B-issues by discovering shibari”!AU (do NOT try this at home-therapy)

- The Untamed - Blades of Glory!AU

pheeeeew. hooookay, wow, that was interesting, hope your learned something about me. I’mma tag some people, but please, feel free to participate at your own leisure. @hattalove, @the-marathon-continues-nip , @iskarieot, @themostglorioushour, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels , @fondofeveryprickle, @ahhhnorealnamesallowed, @sam-t-a, @b612sunsets

16 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Jonathan Harker: Yo, yo, mofos, what's up, I'm about to drop some TRUE FAX. ×proceeds to speak lawyer for five paragraphs, then looks out the window×.

Dracula: ×scales castle wall upside down like a gecko×

Jonathan Harker: Akjejsksljhejslwpfjfbf DUDE WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCKERY IS THIS!?!?!?!?!!!!????

23 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[yinjiyang]

ofengineers​:

Mid raises an eyebrow. This guy is weird. She doesn’t think it means he’s purely evil, though. She just doesn’t really know what to do with someone who just appeared on the Enterprise without giving her any warning. She really just wants to make sure her ship is ready for Clive and the others. This mission is so important for all of them, including Mid. Working with Clive is just another way to honor her father’s legacy. She still misses him so much, and wishes they would have built it together.

She doesn’t know why he’s taking so long to reply, and when he finally does… he’s speaking with only a few words at once. She doesn’t want to get mad, of course, but he’s not helping her. Why is he so cryptic ? Mid just doesn’t have the patient for this.

She takes a deep breath. ”You were human once ?“ she repeats, blinking a few times, not entirely sure of what it could truly mean. ”I’m sure I could understand if you explain it to me.“ He says he’s a friend, but she still not entirely sure. He’s still too mysterious, and Mid just can’t give her trust easily.

       It wasn't his intention to be weird or cryptic--then again, even when he was a child, even before Yin took on Leviathan as her Dominant, he was a child of few words and...yes, quite weird.  In this case, however, it was difficult for him to process complex thoughts into speech with someone he...did not really know, especially if he did not know the current state of Valisthea.        But she had not seemed too alarmed or adverse to the fact that he had performed magic in front of her, so at least that trickle of understanding was there.  At least she wasn't ordering her crew to attack him.  That was a good sign.  Even better that she was asking for an explanation.  For a moment, Yin stood still, staring though with a bit a smile as he gathered his thoughts.        This was the odd part--was that he had never explained it in the past...because...well...no one had ever asked, he had usually kept it secret unless confronted by another Dominant who sensed the Eikon inside and did not question.  But this young woman?  Oh dear.  Now and then, he drew a slight breath as though to speak, but let it fall as though deciding against that course.  He supposed he could show her, but...then...that would give away his secret and he was not entirely convinced now was the time for the world to be made aware of Leviathan's existence.        If this world even remembered Leviathan at all.        "Crystal dust..." he finally decided--because it was technically true, the dusts and shards having played quite an intricate role in him becoming what and who he had become.  "...a lot of...Dzemekys dust..."  And perhaps it was still a bit cryptic and odd, as Yin did not appear  to be Akashic...nor fifteen hundred years old as one would expect with the fall of the Dzemekys mothercrystal.  So maybe he really was just some insane guy who could swim really, really fast...        Or, maybe the engineer's brilliant mind would put those pieces together along with his ancient clothing and realize that maybe...he wasn't crazy at all--or at least not THAT crazy--and that there was a bit of truth behind his vague explanation.  But then, he took one careful step after another to approach her--despite the slow speed, those long legs still managed to cover so much ground with a fluid grace, slender frame likely towering over her once coming to a full stop.  But he lifted a single finger to rest upon his lips to indicate secrecy and blinked once...his eyes shifting from dark ocean blue to a draconic gold reminiscent of the primordial sea serpent depicted in ancient murals and lore books--staring at her for just a few beats and then blinking once more, the color of his gaze returning to that of the open seas.

[zukkaoru]

okay, now this may be a weird one... but in mlp, there are seven elements of harmony: generosity, honesty, laughter, kindness, loyalty, & magic (magic is kind of like leadership / synergy). aka, they embody these elements

if you were to assign jjk characters to the elements of harmony, who would you assign to what?

[ex. [blank] is [in your opinion] the most generous, therefore they would be generosity]

[sorry if this one is weird or complex jiugfcghuijoiuygtfd] <333

HI HELLO OKAY i had lots of feelings about this so i'm putting my answers under a readmore bc it uhhhh got long. especially the last one. oops

thank you for the ask beloved and i hope you enjoy my answers <3

generosity: shoko. she just. she has seen so much and she's always the one doing the healing and getting rid of the bodies. without her, the jujutsu world literally could not function and she keeps giving more of herself than what she should to everyone so they can keep on living. she's so tired and she's overworked and rct takes a Lot of cursed energy but she still heals everyone who comes to her. we have not seen one instance where she's run out of cursed energy and can't heal people. she healed almost all the students after the exchange event, and then she still had to deal with the bodies of the sorcerers who had died in the attack. she gives up so much for everyone all the time and she probably rarely even gets thanked for it

honesty: maki. okay so. i'm not actually sure maki is the best fit for this one but i needed to put her on the list bc she's my number one for everything <3 ANYWAY i just think. maki is a very honest person. she tends to be blunt and say things how they are. but she also, over the course of her story has to learn to be honest with herself. she has to learn to be honest about what she wants (leaving home & going to jj high even if that means leaving mai behind) and what she feels (the fact that she doesn't actually hate mai; mai is the person who is at the center of all her motivations). she learns to be unapologetic about who she is - about not having cursed energy, about being a twin and a sister and a daughter, about not behaving in the way her family wants her to. just. yeah. that's all

laughter: haibara. okay i decided this one right away because haibara is just. very symbolic of hope imo. he's always shown as optimistic and smiling, and it's only after his death that everything truly falls apart. haibara had to die for the same reason rue had to die in thg: to show that this world is cruel to kids, and to show that optimism and hope will only meet death until things change. haibara is just. he's the embodiment of laughter. he was excited to stay in okinawa longer and help out with the mission, he was gonna bring back a souvenir for geto, he looks for the best in people,,, ahem anyways yes. haibara laughter i'm correct.

kindness: itadori. i feel like this one is pretty self-explanatory? i mean look at him! he's so friend-shaped! his whole thing is that he wants to save people. he stuck by his grandfather's side even when his grandfather was cranky and angry and rude. he's so very kind despite the circumstances and he just. someone give him a hug; he deserves it

loyalty: megumi. listen. listen. this boy. he doesn't make friends very easily, but when he does decide he likes someone, he is loyal to a fault. we all know this kid is ready and willing to die for itadori. he's basically entered into a one-sided suicide pact with him. he saved yuuji in episode one and he is committed to that decision. but then there's also tsumiki. and i could write an entire analysis on how megumi has essentially tied his life to tsumiki's on multiple occasions (i.e. the iconic "so start by saving me" line, when he was just talking about how it's really tsumiki who needs saving-- anyway) like this kid. if he decides you are worthy of his time, he will both die and kill for you. anyway i could go on but this is long enough already and i'm simply correct <3

magic: gojo. okay so yeah this might be an obvious choice bc "oh he's the strongest sorcerer so obviously he gets magic lolol" but like. you also said it's leadership and gojo has more leadership skills in his pinky finger than all of the higher ups combined. like okay, maybe he messes up sometimes. he's made mistakes. but being a leader is clearly very important to him, and contrary to popular mischaracterization, he actually is good at it. he isn't an awful teacher, and he loves and respects his students. his whole goal is to lead the next generation of sorcerers into the creation of a world where they can be happy. like yeah, he's got magic bc he's literally the strongest but he's on top for a reason. his technique obviously set him up for it, but he learned how to use and master it, and he learned how to bargain with people to get what he wants. he knows exactly how far he can push the higher ups to make them give in. he knows exactly how much he can get. he knew he couldn't save itadori entirely right off the bat, so he bargained for his life. he knew he couldn't just swoop in and steal megumi, so he talked to megumi first and then made a deal with the zen'in clan. he doesn't force his students to blindly follow him - his students argue and disagree with and insult him all the time. but when it comes to things that really matter, it's gojo who they will side with. hakari and kirara got themselves expelled, but they still cared about gojo. the knowledge that gojo got sealed is what convinced them to help. everyone has banded together to unseal gojo because they know he's important, despite the fact that that now gets them a one-way ticket to an execution sentence. gojo is the glue of the jujutsu world - something very evident in the way everything immediately falls apart after he's sealed. okay anyway i'm gonna stop now but yes. these are my feelings

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 8

Summary: Secrets are coming out

Warnings: angst, swearing

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

Looking over his shoulder, the man drops the bag of chips Y/N bought just yesterday. His lips spread in a shit-eating grin, flashing his pearly whites at her. He jumps from the countertop, turning to look at her properly. The corners of his eyes are crinkled thanks to his smile and Y/N can’t help the tears that rush forth as her heart skips at the sight.

“You still eat salty chips”, Jacob notes, placing his hands on his hips.

Her lips quiver, unable to speak. If she does, her voice is certain to break. She spent an agonizingly long time trying to forget about Jacob and the way he made her feel like she’s his favorite person in the world and his grin, the same boyish grin she absolutely adored, still makes her feel that way.

Jacob has betrayed her, he has abandoned her without explanation, but she still loves him so fucking much. He was her best friend, her brother, her platonic soulmate. She can’t not love him, despite trying to. And she tried so, so hard.

“What”, she looks to her left as a heavy sigh passes her lips. She can hardly breathe, hardly speak. He’s caused her entire body to shiver, to betray just how badly she missed him. The last thing she expected was to see Jacob in her kitchen roughly a decade after they spoke last.

Sniffling, she turns to look at him and the tears she collected in the corners of her eyes fall. While her tears fall, her heart sinks as her eyes harden and her jaw clenches.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Jacob’s grin falters. He licks his lips, his eyes trailing to her clenched jaw before chaining his gaze to her less than forgiving one.

“You called”, he finally says and her eyes narrow at him.

“I did”, she chuckles dryly with a bitter smirk remaining on her lips. “I called you day and night”, she nods to herself as she sinks her teeth in her bottom lip. “TEN FUCKING YEARS AGO!”

“More like twelve years”, Jacob corrects, earning himself a glare many would cower before.

Shaking her head, she takes a few steps closer, the kitchen island between them acting like a layer of protection. “Get your ass out of my house.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Jacob draws his inner lip, gnawing on it. “You called me”, he repeats. “I came as soon as I could. It sounded like you needed help.”

Running a hand over her face, she realizes what he means. He was the first call. He didn’t answer then, but he…

It doesn’t matter. He failed her before. She can’t trust him. She can’t just forget the fact he’s been gone, out of her life for so long and it doesn’t seem he had missed her. He seems perfectly fine without her. While she was falling apart, second guessing herself and everything she did or said, he didn’t spare her a second thought.

“I don’t”, she lifts her chin up proudly. “Not from you.”

Rounding the kitchen island, Jacob ignores her words. “I like what you did with your hair”, he raises his eyebrows when she snorts in disbelief. “I mean it. It’s much better than that time you cut it in a bob and dyed it aqua blue.”

Glancing at him, she takes a step away when she realizes how close he’s gotten. “How would you know? You weren’t there.”

“Your friend in med school tagged you in a photo”, he answers quickly. “It was the only photo of your face I’ve seen in all these years.” Leaning his left elbow on the counter, he smiles. “You kept posting photos of nature and I just kept thinking POST SOMETHING ABOUT YOU.”

Remaining quiet, with her eyebrows furrowed, Y/N stares at Jacob as he rubs his forehead.

“I just wanted to see your face, but you would post anything but.” Shrugging meekly, he swallows thickly. “I saw you were in med school and thought about how good you look in that white coat but you never posted a single photo.”

“Just because you followed my Insta I’m supposed to forgive you now?” She raises her eyebrows, pursing her lips. “It’s going to make everything magically fine?”

“Of course not!” Jacob steps closer, reaching for her hand over the counter but when his fingers brush hers, she pulls back as if his touch burned her. Biting his lower lip, he ignores the rejection but doesn’t advance. “I just”, he sighs. “I never stopped caring about you.”

“Fancy words”, she remarks. “They mean nothing when they aren’t followed by actions.”

Nodding, he lets out a heavy, shaky breath pass his lips. “No one told you”, Jacob’s sad smile lights up his face slightly. “I thought they’d do that by now, but they didn’t.”

Frowning, she’s the one taking a step closer now. She’s the one looking to close the distance. “Tell me what?”

“The reason why I was forced to leave you...the reason we all did.”

Her lips part as she inches closer. “Forced?” Her voice is quiet, laced with confusion and worry, softer.

Nodding, Jacob’s tight-lipped smile is overshadowed by the weariness in his dark eyes. “When you called me, I was on the first plane here, hoping I’d have my best friend back.”

“I am back”, she says sharply. “I never really left, you did and you’re still standing here leaving me in the dark.”

She remembers the wind as it blew the day they last spoke. She remembers the stray droplets of rain falling on her cheeks, hiding her tears. He approached her on a random Tuesday months after he stopped taking her calls, weeks of ignoring her and she has accumulated so much unbridled rage that she couldn’t help but hate him. She snapped at him and he just looked at her, truly looked into her eyes as if he was searching for her soul, for a way to connect on a deeper level she didn’t quite understand.

Then he walked away and she never saw him other than in passing.

“I needed you back then”, she whispers. “I needed you when the anniversary of our moms deaths came every year because you’re the only one I could talk to about how that loss feels”, a crack in her voice silences her.

She waited for him for so long. Every year, she’d sit at their graves with a daisy in her hand, praying Jacob would come as he used to, but he never did. She was alone, her tears growing the flowers they planted at the graves because they didn’t want them to seem empty and lifeless like the rest of them. Their mothers have been the epitome of life and beauty when they were alive so they made their graves reflect that.

The day that accident took their mothers away from them was the day she and Jacob promised each other an eternal friendship. He broke his promise.

And when she looks at him now, she can see he is at a loss of words and he can’t fathom the pain she has been suffering in his absence. He’s hindered her ability to trust, to love, to believe in a forever. He’s left her wounded, bleeding and took the cure with him.

“There’s not a day”, his voice breaks and he slams his hand on the island counter, cracking it much to Y/N’s shock. She flinches, taking a step back as Jacob continues. “There’s not a day where I don’t regret not breaking all the rules and telling you everything.” Biting his trembling bottom lip, Jacob shakes his head vehemently. “I loved you”, he says through gritted teeth. “In every way imaginable.”

Swallowing thickly, she places a hand over her chest.

“As a friend”, he covers his mouth. His hand drops and so does his resolution to keep quiet, for when he speaks, one of his greatest secrets is released into the world. “And for a while as a girl. As the reason I woke up in the morning.”

“Jake”, she interjects, but he isn’t stopping now and she can tell. Whatever it is that weighed on her all these years has wrecked him too.

“I was in love with you and I had to walk away and I’ve accepted that.” Brushing away his own tears, he chokes out his next words. “It faded”, he admits. “But never the love, never the undisputed fact you’re my soulmate. Not in a romantic sense, but you’ve always been at the core of my being and I never stopped looking after you.”

Jacob’s words cause a silence in her soul. Once again, she finds herself feeling like that teenager all those years ago when she felt like fall leaves under frost. She can feel the chill coursing in her blood, coldness bringing the synapses of her brain to a standstill. Part of her is in unimaginable pain, yet one she can endure, she’s learned how to survive in it. He has brought a permanent winter into her life so long ago and she has been waiting for spring ever since.

Truth be told, she always believed it would be Jacob to melt the snow and bring back spring in her soul, but as a knock on the front door sounds, she finds herself heading to it without even a word spared for her best friend who looked ill with his confessions.

Once the door opens, the sunlight enters and she realizes the snow is turning into a river that is washing away the sorrow. Arms wrap around her and the unexpected embrace brings a warmth, a tenderness, in which the flowers at the grave of who she used to be can flourish once more.

“I’m sorry”, the sunlight mumbles in her hair and she realizes she hasn’t said a word. She simply melted into the hug, barely even aware of who is holding her. Her body knows she’s safe on instinct, that she is with someone who’d protect her. Her eyes are closed, her heart is open.

“I’ll tell you everything.”

That’s when her eyes open and she looks up only to find her once enemy is the one she’s allowed to hold her so intimately and she didn’t understand it, but for the first time in a while she didn’t feel pain. She felt his heart beating against her splayed palm over his chest and she knows that no matter what he once was, Paul that is standing before her isn’t someone to let go, rather someone she’s meant to hold close.

All the time spent in vain hating him and yet she finds it’s him who has the power to mend her broken pieces.

“That’s good”, Jacob speaks and Paul’s entire body tenses as he pulls Y/N to a side hug. “I was going to do the same just before you came in.”

“You’re overstepping”, Paul reminds him.

Snorting, Jacob shakes his head. “She’s my best friend.”

“Not for a long time now.” Paul steps before Y/N and her hand wraps around his bicep, grounding him.

“Whatever it is that’s caused this rift between Jacob and me and has distanced you from me, I need to know”, Y/N’s hand trails from Paul’s bicep to his hand, bravely slipping her fingers between his.

For a moment she wondered if he’d move away with disgust or slap her hand away and laugh at her for being so naïve to think he’s possibly interested in her,  but he doesn’t. His hand closes around hers and the heaviness in his chest is gone, replaced by butterflies she once wished death upon.

“Now”, she says sternly as her eyes flicker to Jacob. “You owe me that.”

Giving her hand a tight squeeze, Paul nods. Looking down, he meets her gaze. “You might want to let my hand go then.”

Frowning, she does so with a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

“It’s for your safety”, Jacob tells her, noticing the dejected look. Turning his gaze to Paul, Jacob comes closer. “I could do it, so you’re with her when it happens.”

“When what happens?!” Y/N asks with slight panic in her tone, confused by their exchange.

Shaking his head, Paul hooks his fingers in the hem of his shirt before pulling it off.

Blinking fast, Y/N steps back with eyebrows raised. “Is your cult a swinger’s commune or something?”

Chuckling, Paul tosses the shirt at her. “I wish.” Winking, he steps through the doorway. Turning back to her, he pulls down his shorts and she’s quick to cover her eyes.

“NUDISTIC SUPPORT GROUP THEN?”

“Look at me”, Paul says softly, but she shakes her head.

“Look at me”, Paul repeats and she lifts his shirt up.

“I’m going to blindfold myself instead until you’re ready to put your dick away.”

In a second, he’s before her again. Pulling her hand down, he tilts her head with his index finger on her chin. “Please”, his voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. “Just look at me and you’ll understand.”

Swallowing thickly, she lets out a shuddered breath. It’s taking every last bit of willpower not to stare at his chest as he steps back slowly, more so not to look below his waist. From what a quick glance at his body gathered, Paul Lahote is chiseled by the gods themselves and cursed to live on this planet as a mortal being due to their own jealousy of his ethereal beauty. 

No one could ever steal the very breath from her lungs the way Paul does. No one could ever cause her heart to flutter the way he does and she can’t admit it, not to him, not to Jacob and certainly not to herself but she likes him. She has a crush on Paul Lahote and it’s insanity.

However, in a matter of seconds, faster than a blink of an eye, his tan, sculpted body had disappeared and her wide eyes found fur in its place. 

She was wrong, he is not mortal.

That was her last thought before the darkness overtook her.

Tags: @the-chaotic-cow @xxxjaexxx @captainrogers-19 @bexloxl @laehlaluvs @adaydreamaway08 @sunsetevergreen @volturiwolf @twihard08 @galacticstxrdust @sorrow-and-bliss​ @ireadthensuetheauthors​ @missxmarvelous​

PART 9

[euphoricfilter]

Devil That I Know (Part 1 OUT NOW)

(Part 1 Teaser) release date: january 2022 OUT NOW

Pairing: Demon! Jungkook x Human! Reader

Genre: (Inaccurate) Historical AU || Strangers to lovers AU || Supernatural AU || Implied eventual smut || Angst || Fluff

Summary: Being sent up the mountain as a human sacrifice is the last place you saw yourself in this lifetime, as your relationship progresses with the four-armed demon so does his obsession with keeping you by his side for the rest of his eternal life.

Word Count: 10k written (probably going to be around 15k)

Tags/ warnings: Fluff, Angst, swearing, minor character deaths, descriptions of death/ murder, mild yandere JK, soft JK, asshole jimin for like part of the first chapter, Taehyung just being a sweetheart, slow burn fic, use of magic, mentions of childhood trauma, descriptions of violence and injury, descriptions of sickness, more tags will be added for each chapter.

Notes: Chapter one is almost fully written, and i've come to realise that this is going to be a lot longer than I had originally intended. I feel like the jumps in time are spread thin but the story is based off of the m/c's memories of her lifetime with Jungkook so it focuses on the main aspects of their relationship/ time together.

Masterlist

+ + +

Jungkook found you sat on the wooden deck outside your room that night, he was on his way back from the bath house, well past midnight. He just stood there for a moment, watching you watch the stars, he thought he could see the galaxies reflecting in your eyes.

He would have to ask Taehyung to make you some warmer clothes now that the colder weather was around the corner. Although he could see you were clearly cold, your eyes never left the sky. No plans of going back inside anytime soon.

“You’ll get sick if you stay out here in the cold” his voice startled you, heartrate picking up, and as you turned to him a heavy weight was placed on your shoulders. Your fingers brushed over the soft blanket, grabbing the hem to pull it tighter around yourself.

“Thank you” your voice came out a little breathless, the crisp night wind making your throat dry.

Jungkook sat down next to you, his eyes watching your side profile as you stared up at the stars again, clearly in awe. “Do you like the stars?” he asked.

Your eyes quickly flitted to meet his own before returning to look at the sky above you both, your neck aching but you didn’t want to miss a moment of the wonders that happen up in the sky. Maybe if you looked long enough, you’d see a shooting star. “Yes” you softly replied after a moment of silence, although it still felt too loud for the silence of the night. “I always wonder what it would be like to live among the stars”

“Did you look at the stars while in the village?” he asked, and your head turned to watch him as he looked up.

Another gust of wind broke the silence, “You must be cold, we should go inside” you went to stand up but one of Jungkook’s left hands held your shoulder. A silent suggestion for you to sit back down, his hand was light. Giving you the option to leave if you really wanted to. But you suppose an explanation was due.

“Don’t avoid the question” he muttered, and your shoulders slumped a little as you got into a more comfortable position.

You Knew that Jungkook or Taehyung would eventually bring up where you came from, they’d gone a week leaving you to settle in with no questions asked about where you really came from or how you even ended up as a prisoner in the first place.

“I couldn’t” you reply, “they kept me in a cell, and the only hole in the wall was in a place that the sky was covered by the building beside it” you explain and Jungkook hums.

“How did you get to the village; you must have been travelling somewhere?”

“I was travelling to the coast but got caught” you briefly explain, as you turn your head to look at Jungkook who was already looking at you.

“The coast?” he raised an eyebrow and you nodded.

“I was going to leave Korea, my friend was going to help me, but we got caught by the village people”

“Because they thought you were a spy?” he asked and you nodded, “And your friend?”

You looked forward into the courtyard, swallowing thickly, fingers fiddling with the blanket still around your shoulders; “They killed him. Thought he was a traitor”

(To be continued)

[lolita-lollipop]

Royal siren erasermic family? They like adopt you after you hatch from an egg bc they found you or something idk and take you back to the castle and make you their little princess or something cute and fluffy like that.

YANDERE SIREN ERASERMIC FAMILY X BABY PRINCESS READER

Shinso was just out and about, swimming through some forbidden areas he wasn’t supposed to be in, avoiding sharks, when he found an iridescent little ball under some rubble of a shipwreck, it made his gills tingle at the sweet aura that it emmited, he knew, that this creature, was something to protect. It was up until he saw something moving inside that he thought it was just some ancient treasure that would’ve died with this ship, he examined it closer, squinting his eyes, that’s when he realized, it was a Siren. A baby one at that, usually they hatched out of boring white eggs, the royal family’s were gold, but a shiny color changing white that combated the finest of jewels? Never, this little pip was special, he could feel it.

So he brought it back home, through his “balcony window”, debating wether or not he should tell his parents. As you know, he was somewhere where he was not supposed to be, and they would throw a fit. Then again, whatever this thing was, he couldn’t just keep it to himself, something was living inside it, and he wouldn’t know if something was wrong, so he has too. When he did, it came as a suprise that his parents weren’t mad, they jsut kindof stared at the orb, inhaling the addictive scent it gave off, the three huddled around it, aizawa carefully picking the Small thing up, it was only about the size of a pumpkin, extremely easy to pick up, yet he could still feel the heartbeat of a creature inside, it just had to be one of the sirenfolk , there isn’t any other explanation. He stared at it in confusion, noticing the small cracks staring to form.

Then a little hand popped through, and scared the shit out of all of them.

———

As it turned out, you were in fact a siren, a rare subtype of them, thought to have gone extinct long, long ago. The opal-looking scales that littered your arms and tail showed proof of it, this species were intensely more fragile, and weaker, that’s why they went extinct, as they couldn’t hear, and a small crabs pinch could cause major bone breaks, they were just too weak, yet so beautiful. That’s why they were coveted among the royal family. It only helped their growing obsession taht you were so cute.

It might’ve been an act of I’mpulse, but they just needed to have you as their own, of course, their word is law, so they could’ve just kept you, but they felt the need to make it official, they’d already had two pips, you’re just their third! It was simple, of course, you specific species could be born into sirenfolk families, it was just so rare that it had only happened once. You were just so cute, so fragile, just something so breakable, they just

H a d

To protect this tiny lil thing, it was instinctual to feel a protective pull over their little pups, and boy were they feeling that right now, you were special, not just any baby, but you were theirs. Their special little pup, nothing would ever lay a hand on you, ever. It had only be a few days, and word spreads through the underwater kingdom like a wave, from the servant maid who showed them how to take care of you, to the head maid, to a citizen, to the fisher, and eventually, by the end of the week, the whole kingdom was eagerly waiting to get a glimpse of their new princess.

And boy were they shocked to find out it was an opalite, the most rare of rare sirens in the world. Immediately after they had shown you to the world, sitting in a large clam as it was pulled by sharks, the citizens fell in love with you, maybe it was the fact that you were related to their beloved royals, maybe because the royal family would intensely glare at anyone who made negative comments, maybe it was the fact that a few of those people went missing, but who knows right?

You still hadn’t been able to open your eyes yet, and you won’t be able to hear them for a very long time, your hands were about the size of aizawas eye, and you looked closer to a fish than a human, as you hadn’t even developed your face yet, another plus to being the endangered species, note the sarcasm. And guess what? They found it so adorable, just their cute little baby, their little pup who can’t even protect themselves from the water around them. They just loved every part of your little body, from your tails, to your tiny little hands, to your shiny gills. It was all just so perfect- you were so perfect, and you were theirs, they were gonna protect you at all costs.

So of course they did, you were just so tiny right now, they knows practically anything could hurt you, so they opted to be around you all the time, only leaving to hunt for humans that would suffice for their tastes, drawling them in, determined because of that little smile of yours. You motivated them to do it, they were doing this for you. It have them all a sense of pride to have you feel safe with them, to rite them you. On their own terms.

Eri was constantly around you, being that she was a young one just like you, and you were her little sister! So she wanted to always be around while you made those echoing gurgling noises, or flapped your hands around in the water, she didn’t have responsibility in the kingdom yet, unless being cute is a job, so she can be with you jsut as much as she wants. Always sitting with you while you played with the floating pearls that they had arranged over your play area, watching you feel new things, holding you while you dozed off with adorable little bubbles, she always was with you.

Like now, she’s been with you all day, giving you little snacks, glaring at the guards at the door who always had their eyes on you… creeps. The sun was almost setting, and when you’re low down in the ocean it goes pitch black after a little while, and that’s when the jellyfish come out, tonight was one of the most special days out of the year in the northern oceans, the jellyfish festival, the one night a year when the rare white jellyfish would come out to say hi, leaving trails of shimmering sparkle behind them, painting the upper levels of the ocean a shiny silver. It just so happened that it occurred on your first birthday, a very small increment to sirens, as they live almost a billion years, but still a big accomplishment in their eyes. Look! Their little baby girl is turning one! How amazing!

“Do you see them hon? Look, they’re just starting to appear” Aizawa asked both you and eri calmly, swishing his hand through the salty water to pint at the new appearance of white and purple blobs, slowly flouncing their way overhead. Eri smiled up at it, her pointed teeth displayed in full view, her eyes shined at the view, not only of the huge jellyfish, but also at you, who was placed delicately in mics lap, sat up against his chest. Little bubbles escaped your mouth as you blew raspberries into the water, just making the family laugh.

“Mm-hmmm! Look! Look! How pretty! I wanna touch em! Can I touch em!” She yelled at her parents, excitedly pointing towards the jelly’s floating towards the surface, her hair floated behind her as she swished around, shinsho just chuckled, knowing that she eventually would try to touch them, and get zapped, again, like last year, and the year before, and the year before.

“No hon. Don’t do that to us again, you wanna wish your sister a happy birthday? She’s probably really exited!” Mic cheered, distracting his daughter from touching the jellyfish, yet again, meanwhile, you were happily bouncing up and down on his lap, enjoying the freedom of your arms, swishing them all over the place, grabbing the beads around your neck, jsut anything.

“But dad! Why not! It’s not like it’s hurt me or anything I’ll be fi-“ she begged, throwing her hands up in a small tempter tantrum, clearly forgetting her previous events of pain, and idiocy.

“No- nope no no, we aren’t doing this again, please honey, just please, remember last time, we had to clean up your wounds OUTSIDE-of water, you hate going to the surface remember? “

“Yeah but-“ she started speaking, but was soon cut off with a loud giggle, resonating through your lips, kindof rare for you, you hadn’t been very vocal outside of a few gurgles here and there, so it had each and every ones heads turning. That’s when they saw it, your beautiful eyes, shin sing in reflection to the jellyfish. Those beautiful little eyes of yours mesmerized all of them, a pitch black (for protection from the salt), with a shiny silver-like pupal, immediately after they opened, a burst of color filled your vision. You giggled and clapped your hands together with a small toothless smile, watching as the floaty creates went overhead, glittering with the light.

The absolutely gorgeous splash above was admired by the family form their own viewing post, the blues and whites combined to make a heavenly display. You could feel the cool sprinkles of light they emmited hitting your skin, smiling at the feeling, you splayed your hands out and flailed them against the water.

“Ohhhhhh- oh wow. Honey! Honey look! Her eyes opened! Look at taht! Aren’t you just so magical! Look at you, my little pup.” Mic smacked Aizawa over the chest multiple times, pointing at your clearly opened eyes, you just remained oblivious, staring up at all the new things around you, like.. everything! He turned you around to face him, letting you actually see his face for the first time, taking in the long yellow hair, the (also) black eyes, the ethereal face dotted with shiny yellow gills, him, you could see him!

“She’s developing smoothly, I’m glad. Awww, that’s pretty cute.” Aizawa replied to him, holding in his emotions, as soon as he met those new eyes of yours it’s like everything else disappeared, like the world itself didn’t exist, outside of him, and his fmaily. You took his breath away, or what you could call breath, so cute and innocent, such a small thing, that brings so much joy. Your little tail swished back and forth as you stared up at them happily, taking in the features of the people you’d learned to recognize by touch. Blowing raspberries out of your lips with a stream of bubbles.

“Awwwww! I’m gonna cry, she’s growing so fast! Soon she’ll be swimming in her own! In like 200 years! Too soon, way too soon. Comers baby- mm hmmm” mic spoke, knowing full well that even if he did cry, his tears would get sucked in by the ocean. He pulled you close, moving your head I’ve this shoulde is it would rest in the crook of his neck while he hugged you, eventually, the others joined in, eri practically flopping ontop (with careful regard for you of course).

They all stared at you, while you stared up at the “sky”, oblivious to their stares, to the ways they would growl at anyone who came close, to how they kept you from seeing anyone other than what they personally approve. After all, you are jsut their little pup, of course you wouldn’t notice! Their little pup… feels right to say that, it isn’t like you have any family waiting, they aren’t ever gonna come here.

And if they ever did?

Then, well, a few mermaids are going missing

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Thanks for requesting, this was fun to write!

Have a great day today! Goodbye.