#the shadow and bone series isn’t supposed to be the books. it’s supposed to be its own thing. yeah it’s imperfect but it’s not ruined
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Guys, you do know it’s ok to love a book series and an adaption of the book series at the same time, right? Guys?
Movies and shows don’t have to be perfectly faithful or exactly the same as the books. As long as they capture the same themes, at least roughly follow or remix the same plot, portray the characters convincingly if not fully accurately, are made with genuine passion and respect for the source material, and inspire new love for the story, it’s not a raging dumpster fire. A new take can be good, as long as it’s interesting. You can still enjoy something if it isn’t exactly what you imagined. Being upset or frustrated by changes is ok too, I know how disheartening it can be when something familiar is made unrecognizable, but as long as an adaption is made with love, there’s nothing wrong with loving it.
#this is NOT about rings of power. Rings of power was a travesty to mankind#take the Peter Jackson Lotr movies for example - not entirely faithful to the books but still (mostly)masterpieces in their own right#the shadow and bone series isn’t supposed to be the books. it’s supposed to be its own thing. yeah it’s imperfect but it’s not ruined#I really want to pick up the books now and I never would have otherwise#shadow and bone
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Fools Rush In (Roman Reigns)
SUMMARY: Nessa wasn’t looking for love, neither was Joe, but when you know, you know. Isn’t it funny how fate work?
*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OCs. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, Joe is Roman. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *
PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC
TROPE: Love At First Sight
WARNINGS: N/A
WORD COUNT: 1904
CHAPTER ONE
It was supposed to be a Girls’ Night for Nessa and Isabel. The plan was dinner and a movie, but now they wanted drinks. So they found themselves in a popular nightclub here in Miami. They approached the well-lit bar, their eyes visually drinking up the mountain of alcohol in front of them. “So,” Nessa breathes. “What do you want? The first round is on me.” The brunette turns her attention to her best friend. Her fingers excitedly tap the counter. “Are we feeling darks or clears?” She presses.
“Yes,” Isabel answers with a breathy laugh.
“Girl, I can’t drink like that anymore.” Nessa giggles. The statement wasn’t far from the truth. The last time she mixed her liquors, she woke up to potentially blackmailing videos on her phone. Never again. Nessa hums softly, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. “Let’s play it safe with clears. Vodka?” She asks. Isabel grimaces.
“Tequila?” She answers with a question.
They exchange stares in silence for a moment before putting their fists out. They shake them four times. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” They say in unison, throwing out different hand gestures. Nessa’s fist remains tight while Isabel’s hand is open. Paper beats rock.
“Lo siento, mi amor!” She exclaims while closing her hand around Nessa’s fist. “Maybe next time.” She turns her attention toward the bartender passing off shots to some nearby clubbers. “Two shots of Teremana, please!” The bartender nods at her request and turns to grab the bottle from the alcohol mountain. “With lime,” she adds with a smile. “Yeah.” she nods slightly.
Nessa shakes her head at the petite Latina. It was never a dull moment with her lively best friend. She turns over her left shoulder to grab her wallet from her back pocket but is halted by dark eyes watching her a few feet down. A smirk curls onto the lips of this bearded man once caught. Anxiety would rush through Nessa’s veins like electricity, causing slight chest pains for her.
Oh, he is handsome, she thought.
The bar lights lit his features well, the shadows chiseling out his bone structure. His hair laid against his head flat, pulled up into a bun, the sides shaved. He looks groomed—at least from here, he did.
“Ness,” Isabel calls, snapping Nessa out of the trance she was in.
The distracted woman turns her attention back to her friend, forgetting all about grabbing her wallet. “Yeah?” She asks. Isabel gestures towards the two shots in front of her. The bartender standing before them waited impatiently for a payment. “Oh shit, sorry.” She mutters, reaching into her back pocket for her wallet. A tan hand appears in front of her, a black credit card between two large fingers.
“Put it on my tab.” A deep voice says right above her ear. “I have their drinks all night.” He adds. The bartender eyed the black card in the man’s hand before taking it.
“What’s the name?” She asks.
“Joe.” He answers. Just as Nessa turns to look at the man, he lowers his hand for her to shake. “Nice to meet you.” He says to her with a half-grin. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of approval from her best friend at the tall man.
Ness takes the warm hand, shaking it slightly. His hands were rough, a sure indication of a hardworking man. She now wonders what he does. Construction? Maybe. Architect? Possibly. “Vanessa—Nessa for short.” She says finally. He presses his lips into a thin grin and nods his head once at her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nessa.” He says, opting for the shorter version of her name. Mentally, she was happy he did. She preferred it over her full name. She felt more like a Nessa than Vanessa. They would continue to shake hands slightly while gazing at each other, both not realizing that they were still doing it. Isabel would watch them curiously from behind Nessa. She gawked over the man’s size. In height, he towered over her and her friend. She could tell he was very fit. She’s now wondering if he has a regimen he’d be willing to share.
“It’s a pleasure,” Nessa says, finally looking away from the chocolate-brown eyes that entranced her. Her eyes find their hands still wrapped around each other’s, and she drops it. She would peer up at him from the side, noticing his eyes still on her. Her heart began to soar at the sight. My, this man was overwhelmingly attractive.
“Thank you for the drinks!” Isabel would say suddenly. Nessa clears her throat and nods.
“Yeah, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” She says, chiming in.
“Well, I had to find a reason to come over here.” He explains with a shrug. “It’s no problem.” Silence would fall between the pair, causing Nessa to look ahead. She wasn’t too good at talking to men. It was only a matter of time before she said something to chase him off, or he realized she was not what he was looking for—whatever that may be.
“So…” Isabel chimes in. “Joe, what brings you here?”
“My cousins. Nightclubs aren’t really my thing, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He confesses. “What about you two? Here with anyone?” He asks. His second question is for Nessa. Joe hoped to God she wasn’t here with anyone. If she was, his efforts to know her would be in vain.
“It’s a Girl’s Night,” Nessa says, opting out of his second question.
“But are you here with anyone?” He asks, now directly asking her.
Isabel smiled at the interaction, mentally hoping Nessa would take what he was giving. Meeting guys in the club wasn’t the safest idea, but he seemed pretty sober to her. At the moment, she sees no warning lights flashing above his head. “I’m married,” Isabel says, jumping in again. If she could do anything for her best friend right now, it would be to set her up with this fine specimen of a man. She leans into her best friend, nudging her to speak up.
Nessa turns to Isabel briefly, her eyes widening before returning to Joe. “I’m not.” She says finally.
“A lucky guy at all?” He asks.
“No.”
“Lucky me.” He smiles, revealing perfectly white teeth. “Bartender,” He calls out, waving his hand. The same one that served us earlier approaches us. “Another round for us, please.” He says, whirling his index finger in the air.
Joe spoke with a swagger Nessa had never heard from a man. He radiated so much confidence. If he looks like that, how can you blame him? She’s now cycling through possible professions again. Lawyer, maybe. Doctor, no. Athlete, strong possibility. The poor girl was guessing everything but a serial killer. Nessa would take a glance down at his right hand. No ring, no ring tan. He was an unmarried man himself.
“Lucky girl?” She asks suddenly.
“Hm?” He hums, his thick brows lifting.
“I said, is there a lucky girl?” She repeats, leaning in towards him. Joe looks at her, quickly shaking his head.
“No, not for a little over a year now.” He answers, giving her more info than she was seeking. He reaches down to grab one of the three shots before them. He tosses it down the hatch, his jaw clenching and unclenching at the taste and burn. His last relationship wasn’t one he preferred to talk about. Though he should’ve been mad at his ex, he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He’s gone most of the year; who’d want to stay with someone they barely see?
“Are you from here?” She asks.
“No, I’m from Pensacola.” And there it was. Joe was from another city. One that happened to be six hundred miles away from here. He was here for vacation, here for fun. She was not interested in that. “What about you?”
“I’m local.” She breathed, her shoulders shrugging as she spoke. “Been here my entire life.” She adds now reaching to grab her shot. She tosses it back slowly, her eyes closing slightly. She places the glass on the counter.
“That—.”
“Look,” She says suddenly. “I’m sure you’re a great guy and all, and I really hate to assume, but I’m not looking for a hookup.” She looks around. “Especially here.” She looks at him with a shake of her head. “Not a smart idea.”
Joe’s eyes venture away from her face, his eyes now on the bar counter. His large fingers would curl against the surface while he chose his words. “I understand.” He says, nodding. He lifts his hand, his palm up and open. “I’m not much of—of a hookup person myself.” He explains looking over at her. “I barely know how to do that kind of stuff—the pickup lines and whatnot.” He explains, leaning towards her slightly.
“Right,” Nessa nods.
“My cousins tried to teach me, but I’m not really feeling it, you know what I mean? I’ve never been one to do that.” He was now rambling, his anxiety starting to spike. Maybe he shouldn’t have come out. He can already hear Jon and Josh teasing him for not being able to pick up women. It should come easy to him with the way he looked, but how he looked and who he was were two completely different people. He stops himself, a slow blink to follow while he gathers himself. Just talk, Joe, he thinks. He takes a breath. “I just figured I’d come over and introduce myself, maybe find a reason to come back to this place. Miami is a bit scary after a certain hour with all of the…colorful people.” She chuckles at that, receiving a grin from him in return. Maybe he was winning her over again. “Maybe I can get your number instead?” He proposes.
Nessa watches him for a moment, her eyes searching for ill intent she’d never find. He did seem like a sweet guy; at least she was hoping he was. Isabel was staring a hole in the back of Nessa’s head. Surely this woman has some sense. If she didn’t give this man her number, she was going to give her a piece of her mind after (and maybe sneak her number to him behind her back).
“Uh,” Nessa starts.
“Perra, dale tu número.” Isabel hisses, pinching her side. Nessa shrinks away from the pinch, looking back at her friend who was glaring at her.
“Sure, why not.” She says, looking at Joe. A large smile would spread across his face as he fished his phone out of his coat pocket. She’d take the warm phone, putting in her info as a contact. She passes the phone back to him. “Don’t make me regret it.” She warns him.
“I won’t.” He says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Thank you,” He nods, looking between her and her friend. “I’ll let you ladies get back to your Girls Night. Remember, your drinks are on me. Be safe.” He says, walking off to find his cousins. Nessa and Isabel both watched as he vanished into the crowded space that was the dance area.
“I can’t believe you almost fumbled that!” She exclaims. “That man is fine, fit, and looks rich, mi amoré, okay? Alex is lucky I love him, because that one would’ve gotten fu—.”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Nessa snips.
CHAPTER 2
———————————————————————————
A/N: so…fancy seeing you here LMAO. Should’ve seen it coming tbh. This is the first chapter of another little fanfic I have tucked away. I hope you like it!
#roman reigns fanfic#roman reigns#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns fic#roman reigns fluff#wwe fanfiction#wwe fic#roman reigns x oc#roman reigns x black oc
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You know who's stupid? The people who'd go below and beyond to justify every sh*t Rhys pulled, claiming he had "good" reasons and intentions for everything, while also claiming he's morally gray.
Sjm is one of those people. Write him off as the bad guy, make him do something very terrible to write him off as this morally gray character and then justify his bs and assasinate characters to make him look like the good guy. Wtf is he meant to be??? He cannot be the feminist king that cares for everyone and their mother while also have him be an asshole. Kaz and Carden don't need reasons for why they do sh*t. They do certain things for their own gain and they don't give a damn. They're clearly morally gray. Rhys? I don't fucking know.
Hi anon 👋🏾 again my apologies for only responding now😩
Couldn’t have said it any better myself & it further proves my point again that Rhysand isn’t written for the story let alone the plot!!
I’ve not read the shadow & bone series yet but the cruel prince series I have & to me Cardan is a perfect example of morally grey & executed really well! Ps I absolutely love Cardan! But with Rhysand & the things he’s done not just to Feyre but other courts/HL’s & the justifications are INSANE!!! Everything Rhysand has done has served NO PURPOSE or even benefitted anyone including himself and example of Rhysand doing shit that had the opposite effect of benefiting anyone including himself was when he went to the summer court & he, Amren & Feyre stole the book of breathing because he swore blind that Hybern was after it & if memory serves me correct Hybern actually stated that he was never after the book until Rhysand had taken it out of its home court…like wtf!! The actual big bad villain is telling you that your judgement was wrong & way off & somehow we’re still supposed to believe Rhysand did the right thing & is a “good person”?!!… when in reality if he had just listened to Feyre when she said perhaps asking Tarquin for the book & letting him in on what they think so many things could have been avoided including Tamlin thinking that Feyre was being controlled because now she’s out here lying, manipulating & stealing from other high lords and their courts.
Rhysand is only “feminist” to the women in his circle excluding Nesta & the irony is he never actually gives them choice just the illusion of it & yet for some bizarre reason people buy it🤷🏽♀️ he’s honestly just become a joke of a character that is so poorly written & executed. He’s not morally grey or even morally black he’s straight up horrible.
Not to mention ACOTAR is a legit watered down, YA, knock off version of Anne Bishop’s The Black jewel trilogy😩
#anti rhysand#anti inner circle#rhysand as a character makes absolutely no sense#he’s not morally grey or morally black he’s just horrible#this is what happens when you write a character for yourself and not for the story/plot#sjm critical
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One of the most annoying things about Show!Alina is the way she’s used as a mouthpiece for the writers to convey their half-baked takes on her relationship with Aleksander.
They do everything they can to diminish the emotional resonance of their dynamic and in turn, make Alina into a callous and emotionless heroine. This is accomplished through her dialogues with Aleksander, where she will fiercely contest his points with remarks about how little she needs him and will act as though the connection they shared never happened.
If the Shadow and Bone show was going for an abuse narrative where Alina falls victim to his manipulation only to rise triumphantly later on, they utterly failed. Because when the writer’s are so eager to distance Alina from her feelings for Aleksander, they obliterate any potential emotional complexity that could have arisen from such a dynamic. In abuse narratives, the victim ideally should have some emotional stake in the abusive situation and for Alina that has yet to be seen. When Alina turns on Aleksander, there is no hesitation even though there should be considering that they use his betrayal and supposed violation as an emotional linchpin in season two.
“You may have needed me, but I never needed you”
Powerful line right? Except it isn’t backed up by any instances where Aleksander might have tried to get Alina to “need” him or “depend” on him to an unhealthy degree. Aleksander could have a moment where he uses Alina’s low self-esteem to his advantage and expressed doubt in Alina’s ability to use her powers independently. Perhaps, he could have trained her himself and gotten her to depend on his amplifying abilities as a crutch, so that she would always lean on him. Something like that would have justified a line like this and made it even more powerful. Crazy what can happen when you thoroughly plan the details of your story and actually follow through.
But really, it is because the writers are too hesitant to convey the complex emotional reality of the Darklina relationship. They want Alina to be a powerful badass who undergoes an emotional character arc, but at the same time refuses to let her be vulnerable when it comes to Aleksander. It really does erase the nuance that Alina had in the books in favour of your typical unfeeling heroine in a fantasy series.
#alina starkov#lb critical#shadow and bone#the darkling#s&b critical#s&b netflix#s&b salt#aleksander morovoza#darklina#anti leigh bardugo
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I tend to add random lore no one asked for to series I like, so here’s me doing it for Shadow and Bone. Specifically for Shadow Summoners. Also for this, let’s pretend Aleksander was a real strategist and slept with someone before he died so his line could go on.
So when Baghra gets these powers, we know her dad is frightened by her. Shadow Summoners were supposed to happen and their presence could be seen as a curse. So a known quote or title they get is “a curse made real”.
I think it’d be very interesting if this had side effects. I know their powers are one, but I’m thinking more than that. Hear me out for a quick second. Shadows and the color black are often linked with evil and mystery, so what if this also tampered with their brain? There’s a part of your brain that tells you what’s right from wrong, but what if a side effect is that they have difficulty with this? It’s as if shadow covers their brain and something someone would consider wrong, isn’t that bad in their head, especially if it’s for a greater goal.
Adding onto that, I think it’d be interesting if this family kinda had the Targaryen reputation of “going mad”. I’ve never seen GOT or HOTD but the line that’s like “half the Targaryens went mad didn’t they? What’s the saying? Everytime a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin and the world holds its breath” could also fit this family. Kirigan could be seen as “gone mad” while Baghra isn’t. Baghra has a sister and other kids (according to google) but we never see them in the main trilogy and idk if they’re seen in other books in the series. As their line goes on, some of them going mad could be a consistent thing.
A cool power they could have when given an amplifier is the ability to make people do terrible things. You know how I said their brains are kinda fucked and it’s like a shadow is over their brain? They have the power to cast that shadow over other peoples brains and push them to do fucked up shit. Whether it be the darker thoughts that particular person has, or whatever that Shadow Summoner wills them to do. This could only be broken by a Sun Summoner’s interference
Do y’all know the line in Fear Street when Sarah Fier curses the Goodes and says that everytime they hurt someone, they’ll feel the grip of her hand and she’ll never let them go? If you don’t, that fine. Just keep following-
Kirigan feels like he was wronged in the end. In his head, everything he did was ok because it was for a bigger goal. So, he made an oath/vow/curse/however you wanna look at it, of his own. Everytime someone in his family line is wronged, they will feel the grip of his hand guiding them to get revenge. They’ll feel his hands on their shoulders, hear him whispering in their ear, and feel their rage rise until they get revenge. And their version of revenge is very bloody.
Imagine it for a second. Alina stabbing him and as he’s dying, he makes this vow. Alina is confused because she has no knowledge of any other Shadow Summoners being alive. Since she’ll more than likely live for hundreds of years, she eventually finds out that he had a lot more tricks up his sleeve.
Shadow Summoners adapt to war fast
Shadow Summoners are rare. They’re a submissive gene and it tends to skip generations
Shadow Summoners are obviously not allowed to get together because they share an ancestor, but it’s also because that whole shadow over the brain thing gets worse if two of them have a baby. The kid is guaranteed to be a Shadow Summoner, but they’re also 99% guaranteed to go mad
Shadow Summoners are still feared. Everyone is worried about them following in Kirigan’s footsteps. They’re so scared, that they made a separate area for them in the Little Palace (once they were finally allowed in) because everyone felt tense around them
Them controlling peoples shadows and traveling by merging with their own shadow? Let’s discuss
I feel like I have more but this is all I remember now. I think we as a community should start making up more lore for this universe because it’s fun. Especially for the rare types of Grisha like Sun and Shadow Summoners.
#shadow and bone#seige and storm#ruin and rising#aleksander morovoza#baghra morozova#morozova#shadow summoner#the darkling#random lore I made up and no one asked for#Let me spit#If only just for a second#grishaverse#the grisha trilogy#grisha#grisha trilogy#idk what else to tag#Slices Speaks#Do not flop#CALLING ALL SUPER READERS#TO THE BOOK CLUB
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Second post about AUs:
Is it just me or did the author of Shadow and Bone, just pick a completely random real world location to adapt her story from? It’s supposed to take place in some alternate version of Russia, but there’s hardly anything Russian about it other than the ethnic descriptions for the characters, but only in the books… there’s some vague political and cultural parallels but it’s so bad that the author didn’t even bother to research something so simple such as Slavic naming conventions… it should be Alina Starkova NOT Starkov. Barely any of the show characters are even Eastern European. I know there’s a Bulgarian actor, but literally everyone else is British, American, and just incredibly racially diverse for no reason at all. I don’t even remember if this school or military training program that Alina and co are in is an international school/organization or whatever, but it literally makes no sense that there’s barely any real Russian or Slavic representation at all, and that it looks more like an urban American population than that of any Eastern European nation. I get the six of crow aren’t tied to any one specific country, so I’m not talking about that. Just the fact that it’s really sad and makes me angry that east euros get really bad and inaccurate representation or we’re just seen as criminals and mafia, nothing more. We should do more to represent ourselves in media and not rely on some ignorant American media company to “represent” us, but regardless, it still pisses me off. Like why even pick countries like ours if the majority of westerners do not even give a rat’s ass about us or deliberately hate us and spread anti Slavic nonsense.
People like what they like, but it just makes me sad that Hollywood has all this money and shit, but they don’t even bother to do proper research about a culture, and on top of that make pointless diversity hires and call it representation while also completely misrepresenting the people that this series is supposed to show in the first place. Hollywood isn’t the only thing at fault here too. Ignorant people like the author who just don’t do any research. I’m so so tired of it. We’re not asking you to try to represent us, literally not a soul is asking the west to represent us but if you do it, have the decency to do it in a respectful manner…
At least with ASOIAF, Martin stayed grounded to what he understands of history. Yes, I genuinely believe the north could be seen as Eastern European, combined with some Celtic ( Scottish) inspirations, but Martin leaves it generally open for the viewer to understand that Westeros is based off of Europe in a more generic but still incredibly relatable way without offending any ethnic group from Europe. Dorne could be seen as Spanish specifically during the Arab invasions, but it’s honestly its own thing, the characters don’t even have Spanish or Arab names. Their clothes aren’t really even described as typical to Spanish or North African cultures. They just have vague surface level similarities, unlike the world of shadow and bone which seems to rely too much on the REAL Russia as a inspiration while at the same time just being incredibly inaccurate which sounds ridiculous and ironic but it’s true. Shadow and bone is nothing but a failed attempt of an alternate reality.
#shadow and bone#I got a lot on my mind today#six of crow#alina starkov#Russia#Eastern Europe#Bulgaria#Serbia#Ukraine#Poland#Belarus#Romania#Slovakia#Croatia#Slovenia#Slavs#Slavs in media#anti Slavic#Hollywood#anti Hollywood#bad representation#pointless diversity cast#rant#i’m pissing off the tumblr echo chamber again#tumblr nonsense#asoiaf#a song of ice and Fire#historical fantasy#alternate reality#alternate au
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i found your shadow and bone post you said rath roiben rye has a parade of red flags portrayed as hot and desirable wdymmm hes nowhere like the darkling :/
Yeah I totally agree. He’s nowhere like the Darkling because Roiben is the love interest and the Darkling is a villain. Because that is the point of the Darkling.
Roiben isn’t like the Darkling, but that’s all in the intention, and in HIS intentions. Both of them are older, more powerful, and more knowledgeable about the world the main character is being brought into (SPECIFICALLY claiming to be more knowledgeable about the main character’s own body), and while that’s not a Universally Bad Thing, it does set up a hell of a power dynamic. This is ameliorated in Roiben’s case by her having his name. It is NOT ameliorated in the Darkling’s case, because the Darkling is the antagonist, despite being, as my post was about, superficially similar, since the Darkling is an interrogation and exploration of the Charming Knowledgeable Magic Love Interest as a trope.
Like no shade to Tithe here. I’m not a fan, and I do find it to be a product of the Hot Trope Of The Time, but the power differential is much less in Tithe than in shadow and bone because, specifically, you are supposed to come to understand them as equals. That’s not what was happening in S&B, but after seeing so many books where that Was what was happening, it’s easy to put your pattern seeking brain onto the relationship and simply expect the power dynamic to get evened out. At some point. And it doesn’t, because that’s not the story that Bardugo is writing.
Admittedly, since this is actually one of my least favorite love interest tropes, I tend not to read it a lot, so I never finished the Tithe series. If you enjoy this trope, great, more power to you. I’m just saying that interpreting shadow and bone as ALSO following this trope is goes against the rest of the trilogy. Also, frankly: I needed more than two recognizable love interests who follow this trope. He’s a bit of a reach, sure, but he sure does show up when powers are manifesting, claim to know a lot about them, and then assume a guiding role.
#grishaverse#i guess#sorry I got your blorbo but I was running out of Edward Cullen trope boys from 2013
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AWWW, HERE IT GOES! for the last time :(
His enthusiastic response of ‘That looks good baby!!’
he's SO ANNOYING I WANT TO FUCK HIM.
The rational side of you knows that one missed phone call doesn’t mean anything, but the irrational side decided you don’t need to rest.
i personally, would be spiraling.
“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.”
PUNISH ME FOR IT.
“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.”
out of state husband
“What does that make you then?”
A WHORE. IT MAKES ME A WHORE.
“What do you want?” His confident demeanor falters when he asks just as quiet, all the miles and days without seeing each other are affecting him too. He doesn’t tell you that’s part of the reason he booked an early flight home on your day off.
I AM VIBRATING.
“I landed a few hours ago,” He chuckles, his hands finding your hips to pull you to his chest, in love with the way you stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck like it’s natural, like it’s second nature to want him close. “I was actually going to surprise you in the morning with breakfast after I picked up Bandit from Nance’s.”
and i'm sure ed teased him the whole time about it.
“But someone wanted to risk their lives for the sake of taking out the trash. So, surprise, pretty girl, I’m home.”
why am i salivating?
“Let me shower and get the airport off of me, and then I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you baby.”
He’s wearing a tan pair of moccasin slippers on his feet that you’ve never seen..
HE WOULD.
“Don’t be shy, honey,” he extends a big hand out for you to take with soft eyes, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” copying your line from outside, he wiggles his fingers a little with a smile warmer than the glow of the candles that dance shadows across his sharp jaw and cheek bones, “I just wanna lay with you.”
sREeechingGGG
like you were the sun that broke through the rain clouds that followed him around.
fucking kill me, jfc
“You’re beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” He begs, taking all of you in again. “So, so, so beautiful, honey.”
I AM YELLING IN MY HOME.
“Can you say it for me?” He squeezes your hip, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles to soothe your nerves like his own weren’t boiling under the surface of his confident demeanor like a volcano ready to explode.
I AM FUCKING DROOLING.
“Baby,” he looks at you like he means it, like his whole heart is in your hands now and it has been since the day you moved in he just didn’t know it yet, “I’m yours.”
I AM HIS I AM HIS I AM HIS.
“Yeah, but look at you takin’ it.” He groans with pinched brows, eyes transfixed on where he disappears inside of you.
It’s like muscle memory the way he pulls you to his chest under the covers, like this isn’t your first sleepover. The tip of his nose runs along the length of yours with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, kissing you softly with another whispered “you’re so beautiful”.
why am i crying?
ugh, leighanne i am SO proud of you for this gorgeous series. i was excited every single wednesday for your updates. can not WAIT for the epilogue and for any future tidbits we might get about these too. thank you so much for blessing us!
All I Really Want Is You
older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap ten/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs -
Baby, I’m Yours
summary: A sleepless night brings you back to where it all began.
wc: 8k
warnings: 18+ for the softest of smut.
author’s note: I know we still have the epilogue but I can’t believe we’re actually here at the end of their story. Thank you to all of you that spent your summer reading about Steve and his Tough Girl, this has been such a journey for me as a writer with a lot of challenges but I’m so thankful I did it. Truly writing about these two and talking about it with you guys was the highlight of my summer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you 🧡
🌇 <- chapter nine
The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:
Beginning of August
Steve had been gone for a week and a half and it felt more like a lifetime to you, but it wasn’t for the lack of communication. If Steve wasn’t calling you he was texting you, sending you pictures of his lunch no matter how lame you told him it was. By day three you were sending him a picture of your own with a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes. His enthusiastic response of ‘That looks good baby!!’ had made you squirm in your seat with hot cheeks huffing the word “pathetic” to yourself, but that didn’t stop you from doing it again the next day.
It was FaceTime calls of Peach telling Steve to turn the camera around, always too busy looking at you and telling you how pretty you are to notice his was pointed towards a wall. Or the one time it was pointed at Eddie who sat in front of him making a suggestive ‘cumming’ face to tease him, the camera flipped immediately when he heard you giggle. Steve scolded his cackling friend with an ‘honestly, I hate you’ before taking you to another room, apologizing profusely with blush visible on his cheeks.
It was the small bits of time in between text messages and phone calls that made it drag. The quiet evenings without Bandit’s excited bark from the front yard, the low simmer that’s always in your gut from the possibility of running into him any time you come and go, is gone with the man and his dog. It’s just enough time for seeds of doubt to creep in. The newness, the anxiety of it all.
The bright red numbers on the clock above your stove read 2:13am - three days until Steve gets home and tonight you can’t sleep. Quietly thanking whatever gods there are for your day off tomorrow, well - today.
Your apartment smells like Clorox, lavender, and lemon. The wood floors sparkling just like your kitchen countertops. Cleaning everything you could touch has kept you busy, but it doesn’t make you any more tired than when you’d started. Your intrusive thoughts and daydreams are going a mile a minute:you didn’t get your usual good night call from him. The rational side of you knows that one missed phone call doesn’t mean anything, but the irrational side decided you don’t need to rest.
The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.
The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky. You can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.
Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.
“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside of you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.
“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.
His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at your doorstep, and god, do you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappearing inside of it.
His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you — like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.
“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight, and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”
He smells like bergamot and cedar, a lingering hint of the cigar he probably smoked in New York still clinging to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him.
“I dunno, what does that make me, Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.
He hums, a low sound that vibrates from deep in his chest while his fingers come up to toy with the stone that dangles just above the dip of your breasts. The tips of them tickling rough against your soft skin.
“What do you want?” His confident demeanor falters when he asks just as quiet, all the miles and days without seeing each other are affecting him too. He doesn’t tell you that’s part of the reason he booked an early flight home on your day off.
“I want you.” You don’t hesitate when you say it, no pauses for even a second to think of what you want to say. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, the muscles under your palm dance from your simple touch. He wonders if you can feel his pulse.
“You already have me.” He almost wants to laugh until he still sees the same shared doubt in your eyes. “Haven’t I made that obvious?”
He tugs at your necklace as a reminder, a smile breaking across your face because of it and all he wants to do is kiss you now. Especially when he drops the stone to grab your hand, and after taking just a few steps, you reach up to touch it again — a silent, constant reminder of his confession as you walk towards the wooden gates.
“Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?” You pout a little, looking up at him when he stops you both at your backyard.
“I landed a few hours ago,” He chuckles, his hands finding your hips to pull you to his chest, in love with the way you stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck like it’s natural, like it’s second nature to want him close. “I was actually going to surprise you in the morning with breakfast after I picked up Bandit from Nance’s.”
“Oh yeah?” You grin at the thought of Steve showing up at your front door, that messy head of hair shoved into a baseball cap.
He nudges his nose against yours, the spearmint of his toothpaste fanning cool across your cheeks while your fingers curl into the soft hair at the base of his neck. Tilting your chin so your lips just barely touch, you silently beg him to close the gap.
“Yeah,” He breathes, hazel eyes clocking the way your lashes flutter against the top of your cheeks. He almost feels bad for teasing, especially when you give his hair a gentle, coaxing tug. “But someone wanted to risk their lives for the sake of taking out the trash. So, surprise, pretty girl, I’m home.”
His words make your breath catch, and you want to tell him he feels like home more than your real one ever did. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest when his top lip whispers against your still slightly pouted bottom one. You tug at his roots a little harder this time, needier, and you swear a whine tightens at the back of your throat threatening to come out if he doesn’t give you what you want. Please, kiss me.
“Well, good thing you were here to save me.” You giggle against his mouth, and it makes his hands squeeze at your sides a little tighter, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The tip of your nose pushes against the rough stubble on his cheek, “Besides, I missed you, I wouldn’t have wanted to wait ‘til the morning.”
“God, honey. You have no idea how much I missed you.” His face crumples a little at the thought, almost like he forgot for a second you were right in front of him, but when you somehow pull yourself closer, he doesn’t waste anymore time.
The wood is rough when your back hits the gate at the same time his lips finally crash into yours. A week of longing comes out with a sigh. The metal hinges and lock clank loudly together while he steals the breath from your lungs. He coaxes your mouth open with a swipe from his impatient tongue, groaning when you grant him access. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, and he promises himself he’ll never go a day without it again — not if he can help it.
Your hands get greedy in his hair, bigger handfuls, harsher tugs while your body stays flush against his as he keeps you pinned to the door. It’s all tongue and teeth for a minute, both of you losing yourselves in it for longer than you should. It’s not until a car honks, signaling to any bikers around that it’s popping out of the alley, breaking you two apart.
Chest heaving and lips swollen, all you want is more.
He laughs to himself pressing his forehead against yours with the kind of smile that makes your knees weak. The tip of his nose touches yours; he’s all wild hair and love sick eyes. You don’t want to be without him tonight. Or ever.
“Come sleepover?”
The question comes out before you can stop it, before you can really register what that invitation might mean for both of you. His eyes widen before they search your face for any kind of regret, his tongue wetting his lips when he doesn’t find it. You twist strands of his honey hair between your fingers, nervously waiting for his response.
“We - we don��t have to do anything. I just wanna be with you.” You finally whisper, your nerves getting the best of you. He can’t believe you think he’d actually say no.
“Let me shower and get the airport off of me, and then I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you baby.” He steals another kiss from your smiling lips, letting you take another one for yourself, groaning at the nip of your teeth on his bottom lip before he finally lets you go.
Opening the gate for you, he grabs your wrist pulling you back for one more, relishing in the giggle it earns him before he whispers that he’ll be back in fifteen minutes.
It feels like your heart is trying to escape through your chest as you try not to check the time on your phone. Strategically placed candles are the only light in your living room and kitchen, while a dimmed bedside lamp in your room gleams a dark orange with your wax melter. It feels like your apartment is glowing, but it does nothing to relax the nerves that course through your veins as you pace the small space of your room trying to shake them before his inevitable arrival.
Knock, knock, knock
They are quieter than his normal ones, but they make you jump just the same. You shake your hands out, taking a deep breath before you pad barefoot to your front door. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that always grows the first time you lay your eyes on him and his lopsided grin.
“Hey baby.” He greets you in the kind of voice that makes the dough of your thighs press.
His damp hair is pushed back, from what looks like a few quick hands in the mirror. A simple white shirt replaces the tank top from before, fitting loosely across his shoulders, and a soft looking pair of gray cotton shorts cover the tops of his thighs this time. He’s wearing a tan pair of moccasin slippers on his feet that you’ve never seen, and for some reason his exposed ankles make the heat rise to your cheeks while the fresh scent of his pine body wash threatens to take over your senses.
“Hi handsome.” It’s dripping in sugar the way you say it, sweet off your tongue just for him as you open the door wider.
He thinks your apartment smells like peaches and the ocean when you close it behind him. It smells just like you and he feels surrounded by it, intoxicated with it, the way he always wants to be. You watch him take in your apartment like he missed it too, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when he notices you just cleaned it. He bites back his remark when his eyes meet yours, he can’t bring himself to say it when you’re staring at him from under your lashes with your back pressed to the door all shy like that.
“Don’t be shy, honey,” he extends a big hand out for you to take with soft eyes, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” copying your line from outside, he wiggles his fingers a little with a smile warmer than the glow of the candles that dance shadows across his sharp jaw and cheek bones, “I just wanna lay with you.”
You don’t hesitate to slip your palm into his, your heart racing when you watch his fingers wrap around you with ease. He pulls you into him, colliding in a mix of forest and the beach. He keeps a hold of your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one. The pad of his thumb traces over the heated skin, paying extra attention to the soft bag under your eye. You needed sleep.
“Just me and you, that’s all I want, okay?” He reassures you in a voice lower than a whisper. His heart swells when you nod with big glassy eyes, your hand coming to rest on the top of his so you can lean deeper into his touch.Steve’s hazel eyes look to yours, he tilts his head a little bit closer in a silent ask for permission, you push up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.
He kisses you differently than how he did in the alley, differently than the Fourth of July and the baseball game. He’s gentle, like he’s taking his time with you because he actually has it now, like he’s sure of it. He doesn’t try to deepen it even when they move together like this is what they were always meant to be doing, not even when your top lip catches a little dirty with his bottom. He wants to remember this moment, commit it to memory so that he never forgets what this feels like with you. He kisses you like this until the need for oxygen becomes too much and your feet start to hurt from standing in place for too long.
“Let’s go lay down.” You whisper between bated breaths that mingle with his, your chests heave as he gives you the kind of toothy grin that makes the butterflies wake up again, nodding with a squeeze of your hand.
The hum of A/C and the sounds of your breathing are the only things that can be heard in the low light of your room. Steve’s body lays pressed on top of yours, making himself comfortable between your legs. His head rests on your sternum with a cheek against the soft curve of your tummy. His big hands hold tight to your sides, caging you in – it feels like he’s everywhere and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The weight of him relaxes you into the feathers of your pillows.
Your fingers keep themselves busy buried deep in the thickness of his hair. Still a little damp at the roots, you massage the part of his scalp you know was resting on the hard cushion of the airplane seat, earning you a deep groan that vibrates between your legs. He feels the way they try to close because of it, the sharp intake of breath that you try to hide.
He’d be lying if he said his own body wasn’t reacting being this close to you, especially when the pads of his thumbs caress under the swell of your breasts and there’s no wire of a bra to be found. His eyes roll back as the blunt ends of your nails start to scratch lightly near the nape of his neck, making his fingers squeeze you at the sensation. His face nuzzles deeper into the softness of your stomach, inhaling. You feel the prickle of his stubble through the thin material of your tank top and it makes you giggle.
Steve doesn’t know how he lasted as long as he did this past week without you.
He pushes the bottom of your tank top up and tries not to stare at the supple skin exposed to him before blowing a raspberry. It earns an even louder giggle, making your legs bend at the knees, trapping him in between your thighs.
“Steve!” You sound annoyed but the smile on your face gives you away when you go to cover your eyes with the back of your hand.
“What baby?” He smirks against your skin and feels the way it makes you squirm with a subtle roll of your hips, he’s not even sure you noticed that you did it.
“No…”Your voice trails off when he pushes your shirt up a little higher, his lips getting bolder, addicted to the way you heat up for him with every soft kiss, “No raspberries.” You finally manage, making him chuckle. But that doesn’t stop him continuing on his path.
“I promise I’ll be nice, m’sorry” He mumbles an apology against your skin, basking in the goosebumps it earns him.
He sits back on his knees, thumbs hooking into the bottom of your tank. His eyes meet yours from underneath his lashes and he wishes he could take a picture of the way you look right now.
“Is this okay?” He asks just to make sure, and the nod of your head with heavy lids is enough for him to press a wet kiss on your sternum before pulling the rest of the offending fabric off, throwing it somewhere on your floor.
Steve forgets how to breathe the moment his eyes land on you, soft curves just begging for his touch. He can’t help himself when he runs his palms up your sides making your nipples pebble when the pads of his thumbs meet the bottom swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel the wings under your rib cage.
“God - honey,” Steve’s words get lost on his tongue when you stare up at him with eyes blown out like his, it makes him run a hand down his face like he can’t believe you’re real. “I’m lucky to just be lookin’ at you.”
His praise makes a shy smile push up your cheeks, his own teeth shining in a grin because of it.
“I wanna look at you too.” You whine a little, reaching down between your legs to tug at the cotton of his shirt with a pout.
“Yeah?” Steve asks, bending back down to hover over you. His nose nudges against your cheek before his lips brush yours, smirking when you nod a little desperate against his mouth.
The kiss he gives you lingers, lighting a fire inside of you, the kind that burns at your fingertips, consuming you like it’s wild and it makes you realize it’s never going to be enough. You’re never going to get enough of the man who looks at you like you hung the stars in his sky, like you were the sun that broke through the rain clouds that followed him around.
His fingers curl at the hem of his shirt, and it feels like he’s moving in slow motion when he pulls it over his head, adding it to the already growing pile on the floor. His muscles twitch under your gaze, his own nerves finally catching up to him when he realizes just how long it’s been since he’s been with someone like this. Pink dusts his cheeks but he doesn’t look away, not when he sees the way your eyes glaze over at the sight. The dark thatch of hair in the middle of his chest looks soft to the touch from his late night shower and it makes your fingers twitch to touch him.
The silver of his chain gleams like yours in the moonlight that leaks through your curtains and it makes his skin look like it glows. You give in, running your fingertips through the thick happy trail that’s surrounded by another collection of freckles and moles that you feel the need to kiss and you catch the shudder that runs through him because of it.
“You’re so handsome, Steve.” It comes out a little breathless, and it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.
“Thank you, angel.” He tries to hide his bashfulness in a grin and a hand through his hair, bending back down to press a kiss to your collarbone so you don’t see his smile.
He starts a path up your neck, nipping at sensitive skin along the way to your lips, his own butterflies being spurred on by the whimper it earns him. He hovers over you searching your face for any indication to stop but he’s only met with the kind of look in your eyes that almost has him say it.
‘I love you’.
He tries to show you by slotting his lips against yours in a hot breath, like a key to its lock. The bed dips on either side of your head when he goes from his palms to his forearms, chest to chest he wonders if you can feel his heart beating just for you tonight.
The feeling of his skin against yours makes every inch of you feel like a livewire, both of you moaning into the kiss like you’ve waited too long for this. Tongues collide messily when he rolls his hips with a purpose. The pointed pressure on your bundle of nerves, has you keening into him. Your hands slide up his chest through the patch of hair you’d been dreaming about for months, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Addicted to the way his hard muscles flex against your soft skin.
Box springs squeak when he lets go of all of his weight, it feels like he’s everywhere and it makes your head spin. Your fingers find their way back into the soft hair at the nape of his neck as you fight for dominance with his lips, trying to convey everything you’re feeling right now because words just won’t work.
Pushing your hips up to meet his in a slow grind, the thin material of his shorts does nothing to hide just how big he really is and it makes everything turn sloppy, teeth scraping together with silk between your fingers tugging at his roots a little mean. He smiles when he pulls away to catch his breath, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes are as black as the night outside that threatens to give away to the sun in just a few hours, they look at you like he can’t believe you’re real, memorizing every detail of your face like you might disappear if he blinks.
“So pretty.” He murmurs before littering kisses down your body, some sweet and some with a nip of his teeth.
His eyes meet yours in a silent question of ‘is this okay?’, long fingers curling around the elastic band. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your shy smile. You nod with a little too much excitement making him smirk before pressing a sweet kiss on the top of your hip, running his nose along the soft your tummy doing it again to the other side.
You hold your breath when he pulls them down your thighs, the tips of his fingers gliding down the sides of your legs as he goes, lips tugging up when you squirm a little because of it. A low groan vibrates from his chest when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear, glistening with your arousal in the dim light. You’re so wet and all he’s done is kiss you.
“Baby, baby, baby.” He mutters awestruck by the sight.
A little embarrassed at your body’s reaction, his praise makes your legs try to snap shut but he stops you with a gentle hand on the inside of your knee, spreading them again.
“You’re beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” He begs, taking all of you in again. “So, so, so beautiful, honey.”
His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your leg up enough for his lips to kiss the soft skin right above the round bone, his nose skims up your calf to press another one, relishing in the giggle he gets as he keeps on his path to what he really wants. You squeal when he nips at the inside of your knee and you can feel his smirk against your goosebumps.
Once his kisses get to your thigh, he settles between your legs with his chest to the mattress. It’s hard to remember your own name when he looks up at you through his lashes like that. He hooks your knee over his broad shoulder, his lips dragging a little dirty across your heated skin. He can taste the watermelon that still lingers from his favorite lotion. You were going to be the death of him.
He meets your eyes when he gets high enough for your thigh and hip to connect. Close enough to smell how sweet you are worked up just for him.
“Can I taste you?” He skims his nose up the plush inside of your thigh when he asks, his eyelids growing heavy just basking in being close to you like this. You could say no, and this would be enough for him but the way you’re already dripping on your sheets makes him insatiable. “You want that?”
You want that?
He watches how your eyes glaze over at his question, the intensity of his gaze makes you want to hide, he was so handsome looking up at you like this. Too bashful to actually say yes, you nod again.
“Can you say it for me?” He squeezes your hip, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles to soothe your nerves like his own weren’t boiling under the surface of his confident demeanor like a volcano ready to explode.
What if he wasn’t good at this anymore?
“Y- yes, I want you to taste me, handsome you can do whatever you want to me.” The breathy giggle that bubbles passed your lips makes him grin lopsided just how you like, a smugness that wasn’t there before smoldering like a fire in his eyes.
“Yeah? Fuck - Honey, I dream about this.” He groans when he pulls himself closer, the tip of his nose running up your slick folds making you shudder, fingers already tangling in your sheets. “You want me to show you how much I missed you?”
He doesn’t tell you that he’s started to always miss you when you aren’t around.
He accepts your nod this time, your teeth threatening to make your bottom lip bleed when he settles your other leg over his shoulder too, nothing holding him back from you anymore. He takes all of you in with a greedy eyes, his pink tongue darling out to lick his lips when he sees just how much you want this too.
Nothing can prepare you for the first swipe of his flattened tongue between your slick folds, the tip of it catching your clit with just enough pressure for the grip on your sheets to tighten. The butterflies in your rib cage feel like they make their escape in the gasp you let out, his low hum of approval making your toes curl when he does it again.
“So fucking sweet baby, god of course you are.”
He doesn’t waste anymore time testing the waters, his self doubt gone with his self control when your hips roll up asking for more. Steve knows now he’ll never say no to you and he’s not shy with the way he buries his face in your pussy. His tongue laps up everything you give him, like he’s hungry with his nose pressed to your bundle of nerves with enough pressure to make your back arch.
“Ohmygod - Steve.” The moan you let out makes his cock twitch, your fingers reaching down to tangle themselves in his hair, shamelessly pulling him closer. You were better than his dreams.
Your thighs snap closed around his ears after he stops the greedy strokes of his tongue in the tightness of your entrance for his lips to wrap your clit. He sucks with the kind of force that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. His eyebrows marry together when he closes his eyes like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. One of hands leaves the dough of your thighs for his thick index finger to take his tongue's place, collecting the slick from between your folds before pushing one knuckle in.
It makes you gasp a little breathy as your hips push up for more, and he gives it to you, pushing two more knuckles in and you already feel so full. Your walls constrict, fluttering around his single digit like it’s a stretch and he wonders how you’re going to be able to take him. His own hips rut into the mattress in search of some kind of relief while he sets a steady pace between his mouth and his wrist that has you clenching like you’re about to unravel.
“You close baby? Wanna show me how good it feels?” His question comes out sloppy against your mound, all the color in his eyes is gone meeting yours from between your legs blown wide. When he adds a second finger, it slides in with ease making your eyes hit the back of your head, a low moan bubbling past your lips. Your toes curl with his fingers, jaw going slack with his name in your mouth like a prayer and he’s scared you’re going to make him cum in his pants again.
“Just like that, fuck - right there - Steve, Steve, Steeeeeve!” The fingers that are tangled in his hair tug rough, your thighs clamping down hard around his head while your body tries to squirm away to run from the intensity of it all, the stubble on his jaw rubbing you raw when he moves his head from side to side drinking in everything you give him.
His hand on your hip locks you in place while you come undone on his tongue and he swears you taste just like sugar when he buries his face in deeper till you whine, pushing on his forehead to stop, overstimulation winning. Heat floods your cheeks when you see the shine from your slick covering the bottom of his lopsided grin when he finally looks up at you.
“So pretty like this,” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your shaking thigh.
You cover your face with your hands, the intensity of your first orgasm and the intimacy of it all overwhelms you, the tightness in your chest threatens to become unbearable. The three words sitting at the tip of your tongue beg to come out from between your lips.
Not yet.
He trails sticky kisses up your stomach, making sure to pay special attention to the swell of your breasts, pulling them both together in his big hands to give them equal treatment. Shining lips wrap around your sensitive nipples and it's enough for a new wave of arousal to blossom deep inside your belly, a subtle rock of your hips meeting his when he rolls one between his teeth. Insatiable, just like him.
“Steve,” His name comes out around a sigh, your fingers running up his freckled back before tangling themselves in his hair again, addicted to the softness of it.
“Mmm, tell me what you want.” He looks up at you from under thick lashes, lids heavy, and eyes glossy. He’s wrecked.
“You.” The answer is just as simple as it was outside, it's all you’ve ever wanted. You realize that now. The universe bringing you here to this moment with him. This was it.
“Baby,” he looks at you like he means it, like his whole heart is in your hands now and it has been since the day you moved in he just didn’t know it yet, “I’m yours.”
He moves back up your body, leaving wet kisses across sweat slicked skin making sure to suck at the sensitive spot he found just above your collarbone, smiling when you gasp. He’s not expecting to feel your lips against his jaw, bold and sure of themselves by the time they get to the corner of his mouth, dainty fingers pulling his chin down to collect your kiss.
Your lips move like you can finally relax, like you’re home now and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest. This didn’t feel like just sex.
Your hands run down his sides, grinning into his mouth when he chuckles as the tips of your fingers brush against his ribs, you keep that information locked away another time as you hook them in the elastic band of his shorts. His tongue licks a little dirty into your mouth when you start to pull them down his hips, helping you get them to his knees before kicking them off entirely. The length of him feels heavy against your stomach, and it makes you break away from the kiss but his lips stay attached to you.
Your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach.
The view makes your breath hitch and get stuck in the back of your throat, walls fluttering around nothing when you see just how big he really is. He’s too busy trying to find new places to make you gasp and all you wanna do is look at him.
“Steve” his name comes out around the gasp he was trying so hard to get by sucking a little bruise behind your ear.
He hums against your skin with his eyes closed, drowning in you. Love drunk off of it. The slow sleepiness from the day creeping in as his body molds to the warmth of you.
“I wanna look at you, too.” Your request is quiet against the rough stubble that fades into his neck, and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips.
“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse, nose nudging against your jaw when he brings his gaze back to yours, a smile pulls up the apples of his cheeks, crinkling small lines under his eyes.
“Yeah.” You don’t nod this time.
He holds your eyes in his, needing you to know there’s a double meaning in his words when he brings his palm to your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone.
“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”
The mattress bounces when Steve flops next to you on his back, the two of you barely fitting on your queen size with his broad shoulders and long legs. He catches the way your eyes grow big when you sit up on your knees and finally get to see all of him. He reaches out for you, sensing your hesitation at his size
“C’mere, baby, we’ll go slow.”
Heat blooms between your legs when you take his hand, your knees finding a home on either side of his hips. He’s thicker than you’d imagined all those nights with your fingers between your thighs. The big vein running up the length of him protrudes like it’s working overtime, while beads of pearly white smear against the rough patch of hair just below his belly button from his light pink tip. Wrapping his hand around the base, he gives himself a pump to relieve some of the ache from seeing you sitting on top of him like this. Soft curves on display in the moonlight, he can’t wait to see them when it breaks daylight.
“Fuck,” He sighs when you settle above him, “you look gorgeous.”
His words make your confidence peak, your hands finding themselves flat against his chest, the blunt ends of your nails drag through the hair there and you spot another cluster of freckles you hadn’t seen before, you wonder if he’ll let you find them all.
“Look who’s talkin’” You tease, making him laugh as you lean up to steal a kiss. The motion has the length of him slide easily between your slick folds, his tip catching your clit before popping out.
“Jesus Christ.” He sighs against your mouth that’s formed in a silent ‘o’, rolling his back up in search for more.
“Steve - you’re so - “ The last of your sentence is stolen by a gasp when you grind down to meet his thrust, the tip of him prodding your entrance before gliding up with just the right amount of pressure to make you both moan.
“I’m so what?” He asks a little smug, arms circling the curve of your waist to pull you closer, dragging you over the length of him again, it makes you shudder in his grasp.
He catches against where you beg for more of him, fluttering around the tip, your walls try to suck him in. A low growl rumbles from his chest when he tries to fit a little more. It’s your hips that roll, and it's just enough for him to push all the way in with a little resistance.
“Goddd,” You whine, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been, your walls stinging, desperately trying to accommodate his size. A low huff exhales through your nose when you sit up straight, letting your nails drag over the beauty marks that litter his stomach before finishing your sentence, “so big.”
“Yeah, but look at you takin’ it.” He groans with pinched brows, eyes transfixed on where he disappears inside of you. Arousal coating the thick thatch of hair that frames him, wetting his lips as he watches the way you grind your clit against it letting him fill you to the hilt. “So good for me baby, so beautiful, - fuck! - so gorgeous.”
His praise has you clenching around him, your mouth falling open when you feel him twitch because of it. His big hands find the tops of your thighs, the pads of his fingers leaving fires in their wake while making their way to your hips. He squeezes softly when he gets there, guiding your lazy thrusts before searching for your hands.
You watch him intertwine your fingers with curious eyes, his gaze transfixed on yours as he holds them at your sides, rolling his hips up to push even deeper.
“Oh god,” He does it again only this time if feels like there’s nowhere else for him to fit and it makes your eyes screw shut, “ohmyfuckinggod - Steeeve!”
“Right there? Yeah? Is that it?” He grunts trying to repeat it and your hands squeeze his in an iron grip. “Come on baby, I need to see you.”
It’s hard to open your eyes, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is almost overwhelming. Connected to him in a way that is going to change you forever. The pad of his thumb rubs soft on the top of your hand, bringing you back to him.
“You’re eyes are too pretty to be keepin’ them from me.” He smiles when you finally meet his gaze and it’s enough to punch the air out of your lungs.
“I love you.” The three words slip past your kiss bitten lips before you can even think long enough to stop them and it makes everything come to a standstill.
“What’d you just say?” Steve’s voice is quiet, something unrecognizable in his tone that makes all your nerves come back like they never left.
“I - I -“ the harsh sting of rejection is written all over your face and the feeling of you trying to untangle your hands snaps him back to reality. To you.
“Hey, hey, hey, no honey.” He doesn’t let you go, squeezing till his knuckles turn white “I just wanted to make sure I heard you right, because I’ve been wanting to say that to you since the fourth of July.”
You light up for him in a way he’s never seen before and he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.
“Really?” You whisper a little shy, your own smile becoming uncontainable.
He lets your hands go to wrap his arms back around your waist, sitting up as he pulls you with him on his lap. Chest to chest with his back against your headboard, you’re even closer to him like this. The new position has him impossibly deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix making you keen pretty.
“Yeah, really.” He sighs, wishing he had gotten to say it first.
One arm keeps you close while the other wraps around your back, the warmth of his palm spreading wide across it. The stray hair that you missed more than you realized falls over his forehead and there’s nothing stopping you from pushing it back. Fingernails dragging through his soft hair, making his eyes close until he feels the slow drag of your hips spurring him on.
He doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, especially when your arms wrap around his neck and he feels your hardened nipples against chest. The new angle has his thrusts hitting the spot inside of you no one else has ever been able to find, the one you almost didn’t think existed. The tip of him catches it again and again.
The sound of your slick fills the quiet of your room, growing louder with every roll of your hips that connect with his. The light sheen of sweat that coats both of you has you sliding against his thighs, the cool air from the A/C doing nothing as the two of you get lost like this.
Your second orgasm builds at the same time your body starts to slump against his, your muscles screaming at you for a break.
“Getting close, huh?” He asks, with a forehead pressed to yours, lips teasing but never touching with each thrust.
All you can do is nod, your eyes not daring to leave his again. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried, a hazel forest turned night, you never wanted to leave the depths of them.
“So good for me, let go pretty baby, I got you. Let me do all the work.” He picks up his pace, pushing deeper in with every roll of his hips, feeling the way you squeeze around him while your body starts to shake, the high you’d been chasing threatening to take you.
Holding your gaze, the hand on your back slides up the dip of your spine, curling around the back of your neck. He closes the last bit of space, pulling you to his lips. It’s sloppy and sweet, neither one of you trying to deepen it, just enjoying the way you move together like it was supposed to be like this forever.
“Fuck- I love you so much it scares me.” Steve admits when he pulls away, his confession is the last straw that sends you over the edge. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes when you cum hard around him for the second time.
Your fingers tangle his hair, crashing your lips into his with tear stained cheeks and he can feel everything you put inside of it just for him. It’s enough to finally let himself unravel for the first time in years with a loud moan and his face buried in your neck.
It warms deep in your gut when he spills inside of you, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your thighs shake clinging to him, both of you too scared to let go in the irrational fear that you’ll just wake up from a really good dream. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your skin, your nails finding their way to his scalp. He hums against you when you kiss his temple, nuzzling deeper until you feel his lips against the underside of your jaw.
The two of you sit there like this in a mess of tangled limbs. Sweet kisses and even sweeter words all spoken just barely above a whisper until he’s soft enough to slide out on his own. He takes his time cleaning you up after with giant hands that treat you like glass.
It’s like muscle memory the way he pulls you to his chest under the covers, like this isn’t your first sleepover. The tip of his nose runs along the length of yours with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, kissing you softly with another whispered “you’re so beautiful”.
Streams of sunshine break through your blinds when the two of you finally settle in, buried deep in his arms surrounded by the lingering scent of pine and him, the sounds of his even breathing are enough for you to give into your heavy lids.
It’s only when you’re on the verge of dreams you’re sure will be filled with him that you hear it:
“I love you, tough girl.”
beta’d by @chechelia & dividers by @chechelia
(thank you for everything cece ♥️ and a special thank you to @superblysubpar for betaing the first half of this series, i love you both dearly. & also @carolmunson for always talking to me about our boys, and helping me make this world a little bigger ♥️ ily)
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Evil Twins - Part 2
Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader
Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.
A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.
Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.
*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.
(My photo edit)
The mutual staring contest went on between the three of you for some moments longer.
Then the one in the suit (character name - Billy Russo) cleared his throat and said, “Uh… hi.” He held his hands up, palms out, as if trying to calm you down although you hadn’t even uttered a sound.
“Don’t start screaming or nothin’, we’re not gonna hurt you.” “Speak for yourself,” muttered the other one, eyes still drinking in every inch of you. Billy shot him a dirty look, before turning back to you, “Now, sweetheart, I guess you’re wonderin’ why we’re here.”
Nodding, you felt as if you’d temporarily lost the ability to speak.
And you still weren’t quite sure if you were stoned or not.
“You are not the only one, moi krasivyy,” said the guy in black (character name - The Darkling or General Kirigan) managing to look you in the eyes for once, “we are wondering that too!”
“Ha! That’s rich, comin’ from you. This is all your mother’s fault!” snapped Billy. “OUR mother!” yelled the General. The two of them squared up to each other, glaring into each other’s identical eyes.
Oh this is ridiculous, you thought. You jumped up - praying your dizziness had gone - and clapped your hands loudly once. Their heads turned towards you immediately.
“Okay, that’s enough. Sit down please.”
To your surprise, they did as you asked. Side by side on your other sofa, looking up at you - they really were identical, hairstyles differing a little but apart from that - two peas in a pod.
“Here’s what I do know, although it isn’t much. I was watching two TV series tonight, and you are in one of them and you’re in the other,” you pointed at each of them in turn, “..you are Billy Russo and you are The Darkling. Well, that was in the book, you’re called General Kirigan in the TV series. And now you’re both here. In my flat.” You’d noticed Billy eye-rolling as you were speaking, and now he snorted, turning to the General, “The Darkling? What kind of fucking stupid-ass name is that?!”
The General jumped up off the sofa and so did Billy, and they were back to staring each other out, nose to nose.
You sighed, and folded your arms across your chest. That’s when you remembered you really were too scantily clad to be standing in front of two strangers like this, so without a word you stalked off into your bedroom to get your dressing gown. Putting one arm into a sleeve and pulling it round your shoulders to pull the other sleeve on, you turned to leave and found the two of them standing in the doorway, watching while you were putting on your robe.
“Out!” you shooed them in front of you, and they reluctantly walked back down the short hallway and into your living room. You waved them back onto the sofa, tying your robe, and they both sat down again.
“Now, where were we? Oh yes. How on earth did two TV characters end up in my flat? And why do you look like each other - I thought the two characters were played by the same actor. But there are two of you!”
They exchanged a glance, and Billy replied, “We’ve only just discovered that we’re twins. And I’ll tell you what we know but it won’t make sense. It doesn’t even make sense to us.”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
About an hour later, the two of them were just staring at you again and you were staring back. You’d introduced yourself by now, filled them in on exactly where they’d arrived at, and made tea. They’d sat there on your sofa sipping from their cups, telling you their frankly unbelievable stories.
You’d listened patiently as they explained why they’d ended up in your living room, and when Billy had mentioned the part about his apartment being sealed so they couldn’t get out, you’d raced over to your front door. Heart sinking, you pulled uselessly at the door handle. It wouldn’t budge.
Sitting back down and giving a huge sigh, you sank back into the cushions and managed to calmly say, “You realise I still can’t get my head round this? You. Two. Are. Fictional. Characters! Do you understand? You’re not supposed to be real! But now it seems you are, and you’re sitting on my sofa!”
That’s when the staring had recommenced. Then Billy had simply said, “Sorry ‘bout that.”
You burst out laughing, and Billy grinned at you. The General looked annoyed and you heard him mutter, “He’s not that amusing.” Turning towards him, you said, “Now now, General, is that some sibling rivalry right there?” His dark eyes met yours, “Call me Aleksander. And no - we’ve not been ‘siblings’ long enough to feel any rivalry.” “Are you sure about that, Aleksander?” you asked.
Billy smirked at him, and Aleksander literally snarled, “He’s nothing compared to me!”
You sighed. You could guess what was going to happen next. Yes, there they go…..
They’d both leapt up and were doing their facing off thing, snarking and bitching at each other.
You did your hand-clapping thing and like good puppies they stopped and sat down, both still huffing though. “Billy,” you said, and he looked over at you, “Did you ask Baghra which Small Science you specialised in? Aleksander is a Shadow Summoner.” “The Shadow Summoner,” you heard Aleksander mutter, but you ignored him and carried on. “What is yours? You must be Grisha too, right?”
“Not necessarily!” Aleksander butted in, sulky look on his face, “he could be Otkazat'sya,” he looked over at you, “…that’s people without Grisha capabilities.” Billy glowered at him. “Was your father Grisha too?” you asked Aleksander. His face became stern and closed off, “Yes. A Heartrender. I don’t know anything else about him.”
Oh, you thought, think I touched a nerve there. “You said Baghra is a Shadow Summoner too, right? So is it not more likely that Billy would also have Grisha powers?” He sighed, admitting, “Yes, he probably does.” “I didn’t get a chance to ask,” said Billy, with a triumphant smirk aimed at Aleksander appearing on his face. You got the distinct feeling that he’d really wanted to stick his tongue out at his twin, but somehow he’d managed not to. Aleksander was glaring back at him, looking like he wanted to strangle Billy.
How long were these two going to be here? you silently thought. It was like you’d suddenly adopted two sulky teenage boys. Or two large toddlers. Either description would fit.
It was exhausting.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Earlier on, when their hostess had left them alone while she made tea, Aleksander had leant into Billy’s face and stated, “She is going to be mine. Just to make things crystal clear.” Billy had shaken his head, laughing, “Oh you think? Nah. She’s definitely going to go for me, given the choice.” “Ha! She needs a real man, not some…” he looked Billy over, “…pathetic idiot who dresses in suits. And as I haven’t had sex in decades, it’s only fair that I get the woman.”
Billy had been laughing out loud at this and was just about to reply when she’d returned with three cups of tea and some biscuits on a plate. She’d given them a strange look as she’d placed these on the coffee table, but Billy had quietened down almost immediately and both of them now had innocent smiles on their faces.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
You were yawning by now, informing them that you were going to bed and that they’d need to sleep on the two small sofas.
They’d exchanged glances, and Aleksander had smirked, “That’s a very big bed you’ve got in your room.” You nodded, stating firmly, “Yes, a king-size bed. It’s got a lot of space… and it’s all for me. I’ll get some blankets and pillows for you two.”
Noting their disappointed looks, you walked through to your bedroom and pulled some blankets out of the ottoman chest at the foot of your bed. You were in a bit of a temper. If they thought for one second that just because you were all stuck in here for however long you were going to open your legs for them, they would soon find out in a very painful manner that sex wasn’t on the menu. You weren’t dumb, you’d seen how the two of them - Aleksander in particular - had been looking at you like you were a snack.
Just as you were rummaging right down to the bottom of the ottoman for the spare pillows, you were suddenly aware of a figure next to you. You grabbed the pillows and stood up, scowling at Aleksander who was once again devouring you with his eyes. “I don’t need any help, thank you,” you snapped at him. However he moved even closer to you, “I was thinking more along the lines of you helping me, moi krasivyy.” “Moi what? What’s that mean?” you asked, sidetracked by curiosity getting the better of you. He grinned at you, “Moi krasivyy. It means ‘my beautiful one’. Because you are. Very beautiful.”
You suddenly heard Billy’s voice, “He’s just trying to talk himself into your bed.”
Aleksander whipped round, scowling at Billy. “Shut up!” he yelled at him.
“Ooh, touchy!”
“I meant every word I said. She is very beautiful!”
“Yes, of course she is, just like you said! But she doesn’t need you to tell her that.”
“Why shouldn’t I tell her she’s beautiful?”
“Because you’ve got a hidden agenda!”
“And you don’t?!”
“We both want to fuck her and you know it! You’re just being more obvious about it!”
They both froze as soon as those words came out of Billy’s mouth and their heads swung towards you, two sets of worried eyes meeting yours. You had your arms crossed again, and boy were you pissed.
“Firstly, I’m right here, you know. Standing right here listening to you argue about who’s going to fuck me.” They both looked somewhat ashamed. “Well, let me tell you…. that will be neither of you! The arrogance of the two of you! Not only do you land in my flat totally uninvited but you act as if I’ve been provided as your personal fucktoy. Not gonna happen! Have we got that clear?”
They both nodded, and you heard mumbled ‘Sorry’s’ as you stomped out past them to the living room. Both followed behind you, now silent. Dumping the blankets and pillows onto one of the sofas, you huffed a ‘Goodnight’ to them and returned to your room, firmly closing the door. Pity it didn’t lock, you thought.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Billy was squirming about under his blanket, his long legs hanging off the edge of the too-short sofa. Across from him on the other sofa, Aleksander was doing exactly the same.
“This is your fault,” grumbled Aleksander, “…if you hadn’t inserted yourself into the conversation, I could’ve been sharing that lovely bed with that lovely woman.” “Dream on, jerk,” laughed Billy, “you don’t stand a chance.” “Of course I stand a chance! More than you do…. jerk!” replied Aleksander, adding, “Whatever that means.” “A jerk perfectly describes you…. a very annoyin’ stupid prick!” “It describes you perfectly too!” Voices rising, both getting ready to jump up yet again and really get into it. Which was rapidly becoming a thing with the twins.
“It perfectly describes both of you!” came a shout from behind the closed bedroom door. “Now just shut up and go to sleep!”
They exchanged guilty looks and settled uncomfortably back down on their respective sofas.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Emerging into the living room the next morning, you saw two dark heads peeking out from underneath their blankets and heard two sets of soft snores. Their feet were dangling off the ends of the sofas, and you momentarily felt sorry for them. Your furniture was not intended for six-foot males to sleep on.
Heading to your kitchen, you filled and switched on the kettle, then took a loaf of bread out of a cupboard and popped four slices into the toaster. Hmm… you didn’t have a huge amount of food in your fridge and cupboards. Before all… this had happened, you’d intended picking some more up today. How were you going to get more supplies? And what about your store! Everyone would wonder why it was closed. The store was only usually shut on Sundays, and today was Saturday.
This was a complete disaster. Sighing, you took out another two slices of bread to await toasting and as you closed up the wrapping, suddenly noticed that the loaf didn’t feel as if had got any smaller. You opened it up again and double-checked. You had previously only used a couple of slices, and no way was this loaf now 6 slices lighter, it was exactly the same as it had been. “Oh fuck off,” you muttered. What was this? Narnia? Alice in Fucking Wonderland? Oh well - maybe this meant you and your two ‘guests’ wouldn’t starve.
You jumped, startled, as you heard Billy’s voice behind you, “Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?” He was leaning against the doorframe, wearing only a pair of tight black boxer briefs. Your jaw dropped as you took in this vision of masculine beauty. His smirk at you was totally self-satisfied, and you closed your mouth immediately. “Can’t you put some clothes on!” you snapped, and his grin got wider. “Only got my suit and it ain’t that comfortable for loungin’ around in.”
The toaster popped up at that point and you jumped again. “Am I makin’ you nervous, sweetheart?” he grinned. You turned away and took out the butter from the fridge. Placing the remaining two slices in the toaster, you began to spread the butter on the other 4 slices. “No, you are not,” you denied, looking defiantly at him, knowing it wasn’t true. The two of them were really hot guys, no denying that, but you absolutely couldn’t let them know that’s what you were thinking.
Aleksander now appeared behind him, likewise clad in just his underwear - black boxer shorts - and leant on the other side of the door, arms crossed on his chest. “You’re very kind, making tea for us,” he commented.
Oh good lord! your man-starved mind screeched, this is just too much first thing in the morning! Two male thirst traps, looking like they were currently shooting a Calvin Klein ad.
You hastily turned away and said, “Can one of you make yourself useful, please? Put three teabags into the teapot and fill it up with the hot water.” You hid a grin as they both tried to come into the kitchen at the same time and got jammed in the door. “Okay - Billy, you do it,” you said, “you’ve probably got more experience...” He chuckled, “Yes I have, angel. More than him, that’s for sure!” just as you added, “…of making tea.” Now it was Aleksander’s turn to laugh, “Yes… in tea-making only. Other people usually make my tea.”
“Now don’t you two start arguing again!”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
You brought the teapot, cups and plate of toast into the living room and put it down on the coffee table, noting that they’d folded up their blankets and piled them on top of their pillows on one of the sofas. Must be the military training, you thought. They were sitting on one of the sofas again, both still in their underwear. That was disturbing.
Now you were the one having to stop your eyes roaming over their bodies. Both of which happened to be lean, athletic and very nicely toned, commented your mind. Okay! Enough of that. Did you have any men’s clothes still lying around anywhere, you wondered? Quite possibly, and you decided you’d have a good look once you’d had your tea and toast.
Later on, you came out of your bedroom having found two pairs of grey tracksuit bottoms and a couple of black t-shirts, left behind by your previous boyfriend. You’d laundered them, intending to give them back to him but he’d moved out of the area so that never happened, and they’d lived in one of your drawers ever since. And just as well they had, you thought - I’ve got to get them into some clothes or else I won’t be responsible for my actions.
Handing them over, you remarked, “Hopefully these fit you.” Billy looked at them, nose wrinkling, “Whose are these?” “An ex of mine. Don’t worry! They’ve been washed.” They both stood up and pulled on the jogging bottoms, maybe a tiny bit short for them but not by too much. You smiled to yourself as you noticed one’s movements often mirrored the other’s. They really were twins in every way, although you were sure they’d argue with you on that point.
Both shook out the t-shirts and looked at the band logos on each. “Led Zeppelin?” queried Aleksander. “An old school rock band,” you replied. He looked none the wiser, shrugging but pulling the t-shirt on over his head nevertheless. “Queen!!?” howled Billy, “I’m not wearin’ that!” “Why not, Billy? I love Queen!” you said, offended. He glanced over at you, “Oh, do you? Well… alright then,” and on it went without further argument. The two of them stood there, looking each other over and arguing about which of them looked better in their new outfits.
This really is like getting the children ready for school, you smirked to yourself. Secretly you found it rather amusing that these two alpha males kept challenging each other. But it was just as well you were around to act as referee before they came to actual blows.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
After having put the TV on for the ‘kids’, you began to gather the tea cups, tea pot and plates back onto the tray, fervently hoping that your dishwasher was still working. You noticed that in the few short moments they’d been sitting on the sofas, Aleksander’s eyes were beginning to close. You called his name softly and when he opened his eyes again, told him he could go and take a nap in your bed if he liked. His eyes sparkling, he was off the sofa and sprinting through to your bedroom before you’d properly finished your sentence. The bedroom door slammed.
Billy huffed, “You know he was just doing that ‘dozing off because I’m so tired’ thing just so he could sleep in your bed?” You picked up the tray, “Really? Now, don’t be jealous Billy, you can join him if you like.” Predictably, as you turned to head to the kitchen, you heard, “I’m not sharing a bed with him!”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Billy followed on your heels into the kitchen, and you jumped as you put down the tray and realised he was so close behind you.
“Sorry,” he shrugged, “I just wanted to say - while my delightful twin is out of the way for once - that I’m really truly sorry about what I said last night. About… you know, you and me and him, and.. uhh.. well, you know.” “Yes, Billy, I do know. Apology accepted.” You took the lid off the teapot and turned back to the sink.
He continued, “I really do wanna fuck you but I shoulda told you that in private.”
The teapot lid clattered into the sink, “Billy! Do you have to be so… so direct!” you yelled, while he just stood there, looking down at you with those liquid dark chocolate eyes, trademark smirk on his face.
“We keep movin’ universes, sweetheart! -so carpe diem, as they say.”
He moved his body forwards, pushing you against the sink and a big hand was pulling your head towards his. You were still both maintaining eye contact up to this point; long fingers slid along your jawline and you felt his lips on yours in what quickly became a heated kiss. You saw his eyes close, and allowed yours to slowly close too.
This is such a bad idea!!!
….screeched that nagging little voice at the back of your mind.
But oh my lord, did it feel so very, very good…..
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
@aleksanderwh0r3 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @s1xthirty @tartiflvtte @slythvoid @edithsvoice @paracosmenthusiast
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
#billy russo#the darkling#ben barnes#general kirigan#aleksander morozova#shadow and bone#the punisher 💀#billy russo & aleksander morozova x reader#billy russo and aleksander morozova fanfiction#billy russo and aleksander morozova imagine#billy russo and aleksander morozova fanfic
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The main problem with the whole mal vs the darkling thing in regards to being possessive (or really when it comes to any of their traits) is the fact that throughout, the darkling is clearly framed as the villain and his actions reflect that, whereas Mal as supposed to be the good guy and best romantic partner for Alina, and yet he has all these awful character traits and tendencies. So its less about how awful the Bad Guy is (since he's supposed to be), and more about how awful the person that we're supposed to believe is the best option for Alina is. I don't ship either, just my two cents.
Okay well... two things. First, your comment about "its less about how awful the bad guy is, since he's supposed to be", takes every comment I've made about Darkles out of context, which seems fitting since everything Darklina's spout about Mal is out of context. Him being the Bad Guy is fine, and if you like him AS A VILLAIN, and acknowledge all the bad shit he does, then my posts aren't for you. I think he's a very interesting villain, and a lot of the terrible shit he does that I have to keep making posts about make him a good villain, the problem is when the terrible shit the "Bad Guy" does is romanticized and viewed as the reasons why Alina SHOULD have picked him. So, don't assume everyone gets that "hes supposed to be awful". The point my post was making is that Darklina's love to call Mal possessive, but then turn around and act like Darkles literally enslaving her in somehow sexy and romantic. It's fucking not, and it's transparent as hell that y'all romanticize and sexualize the actually possessive character, and then project false character traits onto Mal. It's so transparent, it's almost funny.
But, more importantly, to your second, very wrong point, I wonder how much of the narrative about Mal having "awful character traits and tendencies" is actually a commentary on Mal as a character, or is it just Darklina's lying about things Mal has done and everyone accepting that misinterpretation as canon. Because, if were making a list...
Fuck boy - False! Mal was not a fuck boy! He was an attractive teenager who hooked up with consenting girls his age when he could, and he was not in a relationship during that time. Alina had never told him how she felt, so he is not beholden to her. (Also, nobody seems to have an issue with the fact that Darkles hooked up with Zoya in the show, that doesn't make HIM a fuckboy... interesting) (also also, nobody seems to discuss Darkles literally sexually assaulting Alina, and lying and manipulating her to get her to be physically intimate with him so he can use her... double interesting).
Slut Shames Alina - FALSE! The ever favourite callout line from Darklina's "He's all over you" isn't him slut shaming her. First, he has no idea what their relationship is like at that point, but more importantly, he is making an observation of her status in the little palace and how she has become his tool. He has dressed her up in his colors, made her put on a show for his benefit, and has created a situation where Alina appears to be his. Mal is noting that after months of searching for her, believing she was being hurt, tortured, or worse, when he arrives to save her, she looks like the Darkling's pet. (and, even if he WAS angry because he perceived them to be romantically involved, boy just spent months fighting for his life, lost multiple friends, and almost died to find her, all while coming to the realisation that he was in love with her, and then he shows up, after not hearing from her for months... I'd be pissed as hell too.) Important Note: He even acknowledges that what he said was wrong and tries to apologise, before Alina tells him that he was right. (Shadow and Bone, pg. 286). He also then apologizes, completely unprompted, for what he said. (Shadow and Bone, pg. 297).
Fat Shames Alina - False! This one is particularly laughable to me, because its one of the Darklina arguments that falls apart the second you actually read the scene. They are running for their lives in the forest, and Mal has to hunt and gather to feed them. He is noting that Alina's appetite has increased since he last saw her, and he makes a joke (ya know, how you do with friends) about how it would be easier to keep her fed if she still had her more meager appetite from before. He makes no comment on her weight, or her size, and he is not actually commenting on her appetite in a negative way, he is just acknowledging that it's a lot more work for him now that she eats more. Right before he says the line, the quote even proves that he isn't shaming her or thinking badly of her: "With a bemused expression, he watched as I gobbled down my portion and then sighed, still hungry". He is noting a change in her, and complaining that its made more work for him. If you think thats the same as fat shaming, well... thats a you problem.
Hates Alina's Powers - FALSE!!!! How to begin... do we talk about it was Mal's idea to hunt the stag in S&B, because he knew she needed it to be more powerful so she could stop the darkling? Do we talk about how he vowed to find the firebird for her, even though he was terrified of what all that power would do to her? Do we talk about how he literally died so she could achieve the power she needed to save the world? Or maybe we could talk about how he believed in her power more than anyone else, like when everyone was making bets about her abilities with the Cut and he knew she'd go further and better than anyone else expected her too, or when he tells her that he was never afraid of her powers, only what seeking all that power would do to her (which is literally the theme of the books, that power corrupts and seeking unmatched power can destroy you)? Mal being afraid of what is going to happen to Alina, being protective of her and worrying over her, is not the same as him hating her powers. He exists to help remind Alina of the themes of the story, and to guide her into maintaining her humanity.
Abusive - ... Do I even need to explain this one? Must I deign an explanation as to why this favourite Darklina lie is so fucking stupid, and also totally hypocrisy? No? Because we all know Darkles is actually the abusive one and they're trying to project their own shit onto Mal to further their abuse apologist agenda? Cool. Moving on.
Possessive of Alina - False! Throughout the entire series, Mal is quite literally the opposite of possessive, but yall just cant read. Not only does he quite literally step out of the way and allow Nikolai to court Alina without argument, which is the most direct example of him not being possessive, he also spends two full books believing, and repeatedly saying over and over and over, that they can't be together because he is not good enough for her. Mal believes, fully, that Alina deserves more than him, better than him, because he's just a tracker and a soldier, just a regular man with nothing to offer her but his love and his protection, and she is a Saint and should be a Queen. Possessiveness is the wish to own and control someone, it is literally the opposite of Mal believing that he's not good enough and doing everything he can to ensure that Alina achieves everything and gets everything he believes she is owed. A possessive character would not tell her to tell him to leave because he has nothing he can offer her, no title or land or country or crown. A possessive character would not promise to be the blade in her hand, because he believed he had nothing but the blood he could spill to offer her.
Angry - True! Yeah, omg, you caught us, Mal is ANGRY! Heaven forbid a teenager who is traumatized beyond belief and has to give up everything in his life, his position in the military (he deserted for her), his friends and the job he loved (Mikhail and Dubrov died for him, and he can't be a tracker in the army... because he deserted... for Alina), and, most importantly, he has to give up Alina (she should be Queen, he believes, and he has to give up the future he imagined with the girl he loves, who he was pretty sure loved him back, because she's a saint and queen and he's just a man), and more, is ANGRY. He has to be the one to find the amplifiers that he knows will end up hurting her, because thats what she needs to save the world. He has to sit by while Nikolai treats him like the dirt on his shoe and tries to woo Alina for his own personal gain (because Nikoalai did not love Alina. Maybe he came to care for her, but he proposed and spent all of S&S trying to get her to marry him when it was obvious they were not in love. He straight up says its so that the next King of Ravka can be married to the Sun Summoner. It's a power grab.) and he can't do anything about it. So yeah, Mal is angry. And yeah, sometimes he's even angry at Alina, just like sometimes she's angry at him. But they always find their way back, always apologize and try to be better for each other, and if you think anger is a toxic trait, and not simply a natural human emotion, might I suggest touching some fucking grass?
Idk why you thought I'd stand for Mal slander on my blog, cuz I will not. So, I'm gonna stop there, because I have shit to do today, but I really do wonder how much of Mal's 'toxic' or 'terrible' traits, that make him such a 'bad' love interest for Alina, really comes from Darklina's who refuse to actually read the text critically at all, and instead take everything he does and says out of context to further their agenda that Alina should have ended up as the Darkling's fucking slave forever, because thats the "girl power feminist" ending somehow. Mal supports her, loves her, sacrifices for her at every turn, and does everything he can do, to the point of literally dying for her, to ensure that she can defeat Darkles and save the world. He protects her, and when they end up happy and safe together on the orphange that they've rebuilt to help the children that were victims of Darkles war and genocide, he spends his days bringing her tea and cakes and flowers, kissing her silly under the stairs in the view of all the teachers, and calling her names like beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart for the rest of their ordinary life together, if love can ever be called that.
#Malina#anti darklina#malyen oretsev#mal oretsev#shadow and bone#if yall could just learn to fucking read... i am begging you
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About “Shadow Play”
Warning! Spoilers ahead!
Okay, so, after watching “Shadow Play”, I had to write this out because a lot of people are talking about it and I had to lay out my two cents without being limited to a tiny box...
Possible spoilers for both Lego Monkie Kid Season 2 episode “Shadow Play” AND for Journey to the West, so be warned!
Okay for starters, the episode had a lot to unpack, but this is going to be covering the whole issue of “Poor Macaque” and “what the fuck Wukong”. THAT being said, I definitely LOVED the episode, it was fantastic! But I feel like this needs to be talked about because the writing for the episode tells a LOT more than I think people are seeing. That’s what I want to discuss here.
So, we all know from the story Macaque told in the episode, that he and Wukong go WAY back, the parallel of the Sun and the Moon was used, with Wukong being the Sun and Macaque being the Moon, of course, and that eventually Macaque was left behind by Wukong and he appears to be quite bitter about that. This is where I’ve noticed a lot of people bringing up the “what the fuck Wukong” bit... BUT, they seem to be overlooking something important here:
Wukong’s circlet. Also known as the “cursed hat” or “tightening band”. People who have read the book know that this circlet was given to Wukong by Tripitaka (also courtesy of Guan Yin) to keep Wukong in line. “Why?” many of you are probably asking... Well, it’s not just because Wukong is insanely powerful, that’s just part of the reason; a very MINOR reason.
The main and most important reason that people often forget about Wukong is that he is IMPULSIVE to a fault. For the first six chapters of Journey to the West, Wukong is driven PURELY by his impulsive desires. He never listened to anyone! His rampage through Heaven was testimony to that, as was his taking Buddha’s challenge to escape his palm, and in the end, his own hubris was his downfall. But even after being imprisoned for 500 years, Wukong hadn’t changed much. Or at all, in fact. That is why Tripitaka needed the circlet and the tightening mantra that came with it to control him; because Wukong wouldn’t listen to him AT ALL. It was only after Tripitaka had an effective way to discipline the monkey that Wukong started to actually do as he was asked. And as the book goes on, Wukong becomes more compliant, actually listening and doing as asked without Tripitaka having to use the tightening mantra to get Wukong to calm down. There’s actually a pretty compelling scene later on in the book (I don’t remember the exact chapter or page) where Tripitaka stops Wukong from attacking a demon minion JUST by calling out his name, whereas before he would have to recite the mantra to get him to stop.
There’s another infamous scene where Wukong is moved to tears by Tripitaka’s compassion for others, whereas earlier in the book Wukong wouldn’t have really bothered much with pity for others. Like seriously. He couldn’t be bothered to look after anyone but himself or his monkeys. He was kind of a selfish dick that way. But in that particular scene, it showed that Wukong had changed A LOT since being made to stop and listen to Tripitaka every once in awhile via the circlet. It was kind of like a wake-up call for him, in a way.
Anyway, we can clearly see the circlet on Wukong’s head in this scene when Macaque is showing how Wukong left. I know we can see it in earlier ones too, but I think the reason for that is because that’s how Macaque sees Wukong, but we’ll come back to that in a bit.
Now, we all know that Macaque is supposed to represent Wukong’s darker side, his “shadow”. And one thing that I think the writer’s made clear in this episode is that Macaque hasn’t changed much. He’s still the dark half, the side of Wukong that will always be in the shadows; the part of him that was BEFORE Wukong changed due to his travels with Tripitaka. Since it’s hinted that Macaque was with Wukong before his rampage through heaven and his 500 year imprisonment, we know that he saw the side of Wukong that existed before Wukong went through the various level of character development that he did in the Journey to the West. And the thing that the writers for “Shadow Play” make clear is that Macaque doesn’t completely understand why Wukong changed.
Macaque wasn’t there for the Journey. Which was probably his choice. The writers of this episode, and of the episode “Macaque” make it clear that Macaque hasn’t changed much in the centuries. He himself makes that clear by referring to himself as Wukong’s shadow, and with the parallel of the sun and the moon. And because he wasn’t there, because he stayed in the shadows, he clearly doesn’t understand the reason behind Wukong’s change and choice to stay by Tripitaka’s side through the Journey, despite being jilted and hurt by the monk plenty of times.
Wukong chose to stay with Tripitaka because he was changing, growing, for the better, even if he himself didn’t realize it right away. But when he did realize it, he chose to stay, even if that meant leaving behind a part of him--or even someone--that he held very dear; Macaque.
Which now brings us to this next part people keep talking about:
The scene where Macaque apparently gets his scar.
We now know for certain that Macaque gets his scar from Wukong. And a lot of people have been expressing their curiosity over why the two ended up fighting each other, or what could have prompted Wukong to wound someone he was supposed to have cared about in such a way.
Well, for those of you who have read the book, you probably know why exactly why. For those who haven’t, in the chapter where the Six Eared Macaque first makes his appearance, he attacks and wounds Tripitaka badly; like with the full intention of killing him kind of badly. I won’t spoil the whole chapter for you, but long story short, is that when confronted after his identity as “the false monkey king” is revealed, he confesses that his plan is to kill everyone in the Journey Crew--minus Wukong--and replace them with duplicates that he has created.
Now, we know from previous episodes of the series so far, that Wukong cares for the rest of the Journey Crew VERY MUCH. He’s kept momentos from the Journey and even made those little origami figures of them with that little shrine in the New Years Special. And we’ve seen how he gets when you threaten someone he cares about via the scene of him with Lady White Bone in that very same special.
THAT is what their fight was about.
Macaque hurt someone Wukong cared about, and Wukong retaliated in kind. Maybe he went a little too far, but he definitely wasn’t going to let it slide. It was almost literally “an eye for an eye”.
Now we come back to that bit of how Macaque sees Wukong, as promised. Macaque shows off Wukong with the circlet in the play because he again, doesn’t understand the reason behind Wukong’s change. He probably knows what the circlet does, and thus sees it and the one who controls it as the reason. This is probably why he attacked Tripitaka; in Macaque’s mind, without Tripitaka, without the tightening mantra, Wukong will go back to being his old self.
Macaque doesn’t understand that Wukong was changing without the circlet being used on him. He says this himself in Episode 9 of Season 1, when he delivers the line, “The old you would have leveled this whole mountain range to stop me! But you’re scared of hurting some kid?!”
That. Right there. Says SO much now that we’ve seen Shadow Play.
Wukong changed for reasons that Macaque doesn’t understand; Wukong grew to care about others and the consequences of his actions. But because Macaque stayed behind, he still holds onto Wukong’s old ways, and he wants that back. He used the analogy of himself as the warrior in the story, and even told MK about the “happy ending” because deep down that’s what he wants. He wants the old Wukong back because that’s the Wukong he understands.
Then we come to the line where he tells MK that he’s “a bit too much” like Monkey King, right after the flashback of how he got his scar. If we refer to that bit above again, we know that Macaque got his scar from Wukong after he tried to kill Tripitaka and very nearly turned the whole Journey Crew against Wukong completely. And what was Macaque doing in this scene?
The same thing.
He was using MK’s friends against him, which ticked MK off to the point where MK went almost blind with rage in an effort to get his friends back. We see in that brief flashback, that Macaque saw that bit of Wukong in MK; the part that cared too much.
This is also where we see a bit of growth in Macaque, and again I refer to the flashback. He realizes he’s reliving a moment where he possibly went too far, and decides to back out before it goes even further to a point where he gets hurt. But that’s also testament to how much he hasn’t changed over the centuries; he’s still only the best at looking out for himself, just like Wukong was before Tripitaka changed him.
His whole conversation with MK after the fight also shows how much he wants the old Wukong back and doesn’t want to see MK go down the same path, and we see it through the whole episode; he sees MK and Wukong as too “soft” now. They get concerned too easily with others, and what will happen if they fail, whereas Macaque is overconfident to a fault, looks out for “old number one” (himself) and doesn’t have the inconvenience of looking out for others to weigh him down or to blind him from his person goals. That’s why he tells MK he’s not ready, not because he lack the ability, but because he lacks the survival instinct. That same survival instinct that Macaque is used to.
In conclusion, Macaque both is and isn’t the victim here. He’s not Wukong’s victim, he’s his own victim; victim to his own misunderstanding and his own unwillingness to change or to accept change. It’s actually something we see in a lot of people, but we’re often unaware of because the signs are often hard to read, and I think that’s why a lot of people have reacted to this episode in the way they have. Again, I’m not saying that this episode was bad or anything, again, it was fantastic! The writers did an outstanding job, I just think there’s a lot more that they were trying to tell us with how they played it out that a lot of people aren’t seeing, and I really wanted to address that.
WHEW! Anyway, I think that about covers everything... sorry this is so long, and if you read this far, thank you so much for giving this a read!
#monkie kid#season 2#spoilers#journey to the west#macaque#wukong#shadow play#psychology talk#warning long post
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Shadow and Bone book series is cultural appropriation
We all know that Leigh Bardugo was inspired by pre-soviet tsar Russia to write S&B.
She also says that she admires Russia, it’s culture and history.
But it didn’t stop her from absolutely fucking up almost every bit of Russian influence on her books.
Let’s start with the country where everything is happening. Ravka. Clearly inspired by Russia. The name itself is okay. All the town names are fine too, this is probably one of the few parts Bardugo didn’t fuck up. Except for Ryevost. Idk if this was a mistake or a coincidence, but Ryevost is ridiculously similar to the Russian word “revnost” which means “jealousy”.
Next, the king and queen. If the country was inspired by pre-soviet Russia, then it should probably have tsars and tsaritsas instead of kings and queens like in Europe. Russia never had a king, only tsars and emperors. I mean, that would make sense since a huge part of the world clearly copies tsar Russia.
The Grishi. This one pisses me off so much! Grisha is a short variant of the Russian name Grigory. So the words Grishaverse and grisha are funny as hell to me cause the show how little Bardugo either cares or knows about Russia. To illustrate how bad this is: imagine a book written by a Russian author where the magicians are called “Chris”.
The Darkling. Why, in a world where literally everything has Russian/Slavic/Eastern European names, one of the main character’s name comes from English? It should sound scary, dark and threatening but every time I stumbled on this name while reading the book, I giggled.
The names. Ohhhh this one is horrible. If Bardugo cared at least a tiny bit about Russia, she would have known that there are feminine and masculine versions of second names. The main character is literally called Alina Starkov. Starkov is the masculine version, Alina should be called Starkova. Even Marvel who make billions of mistakes when it comes to Russia gave Black Widow a feminine version of the surname “Romanov”. She is either called Romanoff (weird but ok) or Romanova.
There are tons of similar mistakes throughout the books, Bardugo gives zero shits about proper Russian names. For example, the character Ilya Mororzova. Ilya is a masculine name, while Morozova is a feminine version of the surname “Morozov”.
The food that they eat. They get drunk on kavas (probably the equivalent of vodka), but kvas, while being a Russian drink, isn’t alcoholic. Funny, right?
Or the kefta, for example, whatever the fuck that is. The right word is “kaftan”. There’s nothing wrong with being inspired by Russian clothes, but either give it the original name, or make up your own, don’t sloppily copy the language.
The people of Ravka are drunkards, they play on their balalaikas (while in tsar Russia balalaikas weren’t that popular), and I’m surprised they don’t dance with bears on the streets in their spare time.
Let’s talk about the “nichevo’yas” too. “Nichevo” in Russian means “nothing”, so basically, they are supposed to be called the “nothings”. But. There is no word “nichevo’ya”. In the worst case, Bardugo could have used “nichevoie” , at least the ending would be right. But it would still sound dumb as hell. There is no plural for “nothing” in Russian because it’s not a noun like in English. We have a word “nichto” which is a pronoun and also means “nothing”, but there’s no plural for it either. She should have used a different word instead of mocking Russian.
Otkazat’sya (people without grisha powers) literally translates as “to refuse”. Not “those who refused” or “the refused”, but the verb “to refuse”. The infinitive. This isn’t just funny, this is super disrespectful to my language.
Now, if all of this isn’t enough, let me show you a review that illustrates exactly how stupid Shadow and Bone is:
“....Imagine if a Russian writer wrote a book about a fictional country called 'Straya, based off present day Australia. The head of the country is called the Prime Minister, and all his personal security team are call Colonialists. Everyone in the country drinks an alcoholic drink called Coke'a'Cola and everyone always get drunk because people in 'Straya are just drunks. In 'Straya People with no magical talents are called Rejects. The main character of the book is a girl called Barry who grows up under the care of a Housekeeper called Fuc Kit. Barry discovers she has special powers, and she goes to magical school run by powerful enchanters called Tim. At magic school, the school system is supposed to feel like it in 'Straya but it reads exactly like a Russian school... there is also a girl called Frank and someone has a grandfather called Jane.”
“Shadow and Bone” ruins, disrespects and makes fun of Russian culture instead of using or appreciating it. It’s cultural appropriation at its finest.
But that wouldn’t have been such a trigger to me if not for how hypocritical it is. People in the US are against cultural appropriation and treat it as one of the most disrespectful things you can do. But they adore Shadow and Bone that ridicules Russian culture that it tries to be based on.
I don’t give a fuck that it’s fantasy. It copies too many Russian things to just be “inspired” by it. “A Song of Ice and Fire”, “Lord of The Rings”, “The Witcher” are all inspired by Medieval Europe, but they do not stupidly copy words, names and other things. All those authors create their own worlds.
So, if you want a really good fantasy book inspired by Slavic/Eastern European culture, try reading “The Witcher”. It’s based on both Medieval Europe and Ancient Russia, but has its own world, kingdoms, history and names.
Fuck “Shadow and Bone”
#aesthetic#aesthetics#inspiration#shadow and bone#leigh bardugo#six of crows#the darkling#Alina starkova#the Witcher#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#Lord of the rings#the hobbit#andrzej sapkowski#george martin#tolkien#fantasy#fantasy books#fantasy novel#book#books#book series#grishaverse#ravka#cultural appreciation#cultural appropriation#fantasy series#netflix#writumblr#book tumblr
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Are you still taking hotcakes? If so, here's one:
The Darkling and Alina's character dynamic and relationship writing are actually not that good to explore/convey abusive relationships. Not only would it be just the first book, because the rest of the series treats him as an enemy, but even in the first book they barely got it going. Yes he lies and manipulates her but, at least in the beginning when finding her out, she's not exactly special in regard. He does it to everyone to some extent. You can say this makes the Darkling toxic. Yeah. Dark daddy literally can't trust anyone. But when specifically talking about Darkling being abusive, I can't really... I can't really think of any quiet emotional beats that made me horrified and want to hold Alina? She never had a hard time leaving the Darkling. Darkling never really broke her down to be completely dependent on him, literally only the letters and I guess the Stag were indications of it. Besides that, he only does the bare minimum and affirms her worth to a serverly self deprecating Alina. Dark daddy is not even an effective cult leader. Leigh just wrote a charismatic intelligent man that dedicates himself to the little palace and put a sidenote like "and he kicks puppies so.."
Do you know what would of been good to explore abusive dynamic/relationship with? Who puts her down? Does little digs into her self worth? Makes her completely dependent on him? Who she has a difficult time leaving? Who has these very drastic unpredictable mood changes that put me, as a reader, on edge? 👀👀👀
Yes, we are always open for hotcakes here! 🔥🎂
If Bardugo really wanted to convey an abusive relationship, it would have been more effective to put Alina in an actual relationship with the Darkling. Even with Shadow & Bone being the book with the most amount of their interactions, he's barely even at the Little Palace.
I also don't understand this critique of "he isolated her" because he only isolated her from Mal. She was still a student with free rein at the Little Palace, free to make friends, did make friends, and was constantly surrounded by people. It's Alina who chooses to hide in her room and avoid everyone and sticks up her nose at the other Grisha girls. Alina herself even admits that had the Darkling not sabotaged her letters with Mal, she never would have unlocked her powers. And the only reason this is framed as being evil is because Mal is supposed to be the chosen love interest. If Mal was just another dumb fuckboy who ghosted her while Alina went on to make new friends and build a social circle at the Little Palace, literally no one would care.
(Also, as an interesting tangent, in the short story The Tailor, the Darkling leaves it up to Genya whether to give Mal's letters to Alina or not. Genya is conflicted for a while but ends up burning them.)
I think the problem is that while the Darkling is manipulating Alina, Leigh is also manipulating the reader through the way she frames and tells the story. And Leigh's manipulation falls flat and ultimately backfires because:
If she wanted Alina to be disarmed by the Darkling's encouragement, why is he literally the only positive mentor figure she has? Why make Baghra so abusive and antagonistic? Why connect Alina's journey to claiming her powers to the villain?
If she wanted us to believe everything he does is pure manipulation and cold calculation, why does he mess up when he corners her at the Winter Fete? He straight up admits that he hates that he's attracted to her because she's distracting him from his ~evil plans~
If she wanted us to see the Darkling as an abuser, why let him give Alina the most powerful amplifier ever made and ultimately end up empowering her???? He wanted to use her power for himself, yes, but she really should have milked that exploitation for a lot longer because 2 seconds later, Alina gains control back and now she's got the legendary power of the stag on her side and makes the Darkling look like an idiot.
Why did she let Baghra warn Alina on the night of the Winter Fete? This is particularly interesting point in the story because a lot of fanfics like to explore the direction the story could have taken had the Darkling himself eventually told Alina about his past as the Black Heretic. Or if Alina had joined him in hunting for the stag and taken the collar with consent, like she was originally planning to.
What makes Alina easy to manipulate is how desperate she is for validation and approval from other people, especially men. Compare that to show!Alina where the ""manipulation"" is a goddamn joke ☠️If anything, the show!Darkling played himself by simping so hard. If the Darkling manipulates Alina, so does Baghra, so does Genya, so does Mal, and so does even Nikolai.
This isn't to say this ship isn't trash, because it 100% is 😂But if the Darkling is abusive to Alina, it's not abusive in the same way as a toxic boyfriend is. It's an abuse of power, a control of information, emotional manipulation, mind games, intimidation, blatant lies, threats to loved ones, and some light negging because Aleks really can't understand Alina's cottagecore dreams ☠️and neither can i tbh
At the same time, I'm not sure how useful it is to frame this in the same way as relationship abuse when Alina and the Darkling are enemies in a civil war.
This might be why many more readers mapped their own abusive relationship history to the way Mal treated Alina in Siege & Storm, an unintended consequence of Bardugo's poor writing choices that has been fueling book!M*l hate to this very day.
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please. i can’t do this alone.
Titans 3.01
thoughts! thoughts! thoughts! some red hot thoughts!
SPOILERS ahead.
1. one episode in, and this season already looks set to give me everything i want. its abandonment of plot and storytelling conventions as it goes from one point to the next at breakneck speed; its cheerful bastardisation of iconic storylines from the comics; the ‘as-you-know-bob’ clunky exposition on one end and extremely restrained, subtle explorations of complex character dynamics on the other; endless shots of neon bleeding into black and blue corridors, shadows and silhouettes; my delight in seeing it celebrate and deconstruct the dark nolan-y batman aesthetic at the same time; my bafflement that it’s so fucking goddamn obsessed with the batfam when it’s supposed to be about the TITANS; kory just... saving every overburdened, clunky scene that she’s in by her sparkling charisma. just... *chef’s kiss*. muah. my show is back, in all its glory.
MY SHOW IS BACK, Y’ALL!
1.5. i mean... this show is so artful and weird and not afraid to go absolutely bonkers in exploring its characters’ psyche, but can just about barely stage a passable comic book fight when every tom dick and harry and their new streaming services can deliver ones that are far more exciting. i love this show with every atom of my body.
(there’s something to be said about rooting for the underdog as well. a pleasure in finding something to love about what other people dismiss. but! enough navel gazing! i have fictional characters’ navels to look at! metaphorically! and maybe literally!)
2. i expected jason’s death to come about pretty early in the season as soon as i heard rumours that red hood was showing up, but for it to happen in the first five minutes of the first episode... that’s a record.
(well. “happen.” still don’t know what exactly went down there.)
2.25. GOD. jason is such a tortured and tragic character in this show, used and passed around by people with alleged good intentions, never really fitting in anywhere. he’s veritably bleeding vulnerability and the need to belong, the need to be known, and yet the tragedy is that his death proves that nobody in his life knew anything about him at all; that they only saw the flimsy walls he put up to protect his soft core, and thought that that was all there was. that they say they loved him, but blame him for his own death.
dick is flabbergasted that jason can read, though we know from last season, from what jason revealed to rose, that he has a love for plays and music. barbara is quick to dismiss his actions as ‘impulsive’. bruce has no idea that his supposed son was building his own little chemistry lab right under his nose, and beyond that, no idea that jason needed structure, stability and validation beyond being left alone in a huge house with a treasure trove of dangerous weapons. kory thought his decision to fight the joker was from not learning and growing when the guy tried to kill himself last season and nobody apart from dick even tried to talk to him about it! did you consider that he might still be suicidal? especially after the titans admitted to having “given up” on him because he was just “too hard”?
2.5. the one thing that’s been consistent across all three seasons (so far) of the show is the unreliable narrator trope. there’s a reason why the characters’ dismissals of jason’s actions as impulsive is so repetitive; why jason’s death is a mystery dick feels compelled to solve. it’s a flailing attempt to know his brother much too late--but with red hood, maybe he gets a second chance, just like he got one with the titans. this is what jason’s arc has been building up to. this is ‘death in the family’ but more fucked up in some ways. it didn’t linger on the death because the death wasn’t the point. the joker isn’t the point. everything that came before it is.
this way it will also make perfect sense that the red hood’s main enemy becomes the titans rather than batman.
2.75. goodness knows what’s going on with jason’s little chemistry project. at first i thought he was immunising himself to joker gas or something, but maybe it’s what passes for lazarus pit juice in this universe?
anyway, it’s pretty impressive that jason learnt all of that from a college chemistry textbook. STOP BRINGING UP THAT HE READ SOMETHING, DICK--
2.8. i’m glad that dick doesn’t immediately sink into self-loathing and guilt and tries to investigate jason’s death while also acknowledging how he failed him. it’s like he actually learned something from the last two years!
anyway. more about dick later.
3. oh how i love titans!bruce. a lot of characters had a lot of Opinions on his reaction to jason’s death in this episode, but again, i ask you to consider that they’re unreliable narrators, and this universe’s bruce is a product of how it shaped him. bruce wayne has become a phantom to himself--an artifice borne out of vigorous discipline and crushing self-denial.
bruce has been batman for a very long time, and without a robin for much longer. (dick must be... in his early thirties? so he was robin for about, say, 10-12 years according to the timeline of the show. that still makes bruce pretty old when he took on his first robin.) things have... calcified (possibly parts of his brain). the personal cost and the collateral from the mission he’s taken up for most of his life is too much to countenance; it has to be a war, and war requires sacrifice.
on some level bruce knows that’s a lie. he’s so goddamned alone. what’s he going to do? sit down and cry? who’s going to listen to him now? oh, is he going to just stop being batman? who’s going to stop gotham from consuming herself then? he’ll just have to forge ahead, do better next time, maybe he’ll be firmer with them, or kinder with them, or notice more things, or train them harder, or spend more time--
3.25. don’t get me wrong: titans!bruce is an asshole and a half. his roster of potential robins was honestly bone-chilling. the fact that there’s a twisted root of compassion makes it more disturbing.
3.5. alfred’s dead! it must’ve been pretty recent, because i could’ve sworn that dick tried to call alfred in the very first episode of season 1, or at least considered calling him...
what a devastating double-blow for bruce then, losing his father-figure and his, uh.... son-figure so close together.
4. i don’t know about barbara yet. i mean, i like her, but she had so much clunky expository dialogue to deliver this episode, and for an episode that was named after her, she only showed up halfway through it. but i like the weight of history behind her interactions with both bruce and dick and her compassion to bruce before he cruelly crossed a line. i also like the implication that she and dick have been in touch recently, and that she didn’t immediately try to guilt-trip dick about some perceived abandonment. it’d be too repetitive.
4.5. there’s also a sense that she ran interference for dick a lot whenever there was something Too Big and Emotional for him to confront directly, and i like and appreciate that character beat.
5. dick, my man! it really does feel like a substantial length of time has passed between the end of s2 and the beginning of s3... kory’s got a new costume, they’ve become celebrities in SF, working missions together, and dick’s actually smiling! genuinely enjoying his work and having fun with it for possibly the first time in the entire series! it’s really a far cry from the fractured, dysfunctional mess that they were at the end of the last season.
i just hope this doesn’t mean that they’ve magically reached a resolution off-screen to all of their fucked-upness from last season, and that the repercussions--for gar in particular--are actually addressed on screen.
5.25. i mentioned this briefly above, but it really is so refreshing that dick doesn’t wallow in guilt and self-loathing after jason’s death; he acknowledges his and the titans’ failure, is able to admit to barbara honestly that he’s not doing great, and is actively trying to reach out to bruce to make sure he’s ok, is trying to investigate what made jason seek out the joker on his own, and is probably the only person not immediately buying that it was jason’s recklessness that got him killed. i love that dick is finally beginning to trust his instincts or just employ them at all after years of guilt and paranoia and self-loathing. we love some positive character growth!
5.5. another thing i love? the bruce-dick interactions on this show. every scene they’re in together is so fraught with tension, both of them holding themselves back, their emotions on a whipcord-tight leash. dick wants to reach out to bruce, is even somewhat familiar with this brand of denial in the wake of grief, but wants barbara to make the first move because he genuinely does not know how to get bruce to open up. his instincts are right, and wonderful, and genuine, but his expression has been smothered by years of trauma, emotional and physical self-discipline, and what i suspect is poorly treated mental illness.
it takes a lot for him to finally explode at bruce at the end of the episode--in a way he hasn’t done even when his only opinion of bruce was ‘fuck him’--and it’s all the more startling for how subdued he’s been through the episode, how much he’s been holding back his emotions for bruce’s sake. love it.
5.75. it sort of hurts my heart to see the flying graysons poster in jason’s room. there are a few implications:
a) jason settled into dick’s old room despite living in a giant mansion with dozens of other rooms he could’ve used
b) he didn’t take down dick’s poster--not when he moved in and was idolising him, not when he moved out of the titans and was sort of hating him. i wonder if the reminder of what dick was before robin--that he was forged out of unspeakable tragedy--gave jason the connection to dick that he so desperately wanted in real life
c) dick moved right back into the room and slept on the bed that was now jason’s. grief can be so quiet and piecemeal sometimes.
6. i spy the beginnings of actual arcs for both gar and kory! i just hope that with the move to gotham their stories don’t fall to the wayside...
6.5. i’ve known tim drake for less than ten minutes but if anything were to happen to him i’d kill everybody
7. this review has gone on for too long and i am tiRED. however, before i leave: i miss some of the dedication-to-aesthetic that titans season 1 used to have. remember how the first few episodes didn’t really feel like a superhero show but something out of gothic horror? there was something gorgeous and raw about that, about open landscapes and the road and creepy buildings looming up at the end of it. moving to titans tower in s2 really ruined a lot of that for me, given its ripped-from-architectural-digest aesthetic, all smooth and clean and artificial.
i hope that we really explore gotham’s hellscape in interesting and innovative ways instead of camping out in the batcave all the time and indulging in the show’s unending love for long corridors, neon backlights and silhouettes.
8.....
9. wait, fuck, HOW CAN I FORGET ABOUT HOT PSYCHIATRIST GUY (TM)??? NONE of you prepared me for his return! NONE OF YOU! i gasped! i got up and did a happy dance!
listen, titans writers, if you’ve had a peek at my titans s3 wishlist, please go ahead and give the other items on the list a go too, thankyouverymuch.
#titans#titans spoilers#meta#jason todd#dick grayson#bruce wayne#barbara gordon#a tragic jalebi#a byronic cupcake
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i get why a lot of ppl, especially SoC-only (or primarily) fans, are disappointed with the crows, particularly kaz’ characterization. i do. but at the same time, i think the biggest reason i’m not (and i only watched the show for the crows&ben barnes to begin with) is because i knew this pretty much had to happen. it’s the only way they could make the crows fit into the s&b storyline--and i’m reasonably sure that they had to make them fit to draw viewers, because s&b just isn’t enough on its own (even with ben barnes knocking it outta the park) given the constraints under which they were working.
(am i shading leigh? possibly. just a bit. cough.)
they couldn’t meaningfully change s&b itself--except mal’s characterization&storyline, to make him and malina more palatable to the audience. (which i almost wish they hadn’t? because as it is now, they’re just kind of... boring. if mal kept his book characterization, at least i could be properly angry at him instead of just zoning out during his scenes. and it kind of sucks because i love archie, he just wasn’t given much to work with.) and if it were just shadow&bone, i suspect that a whole lot of viewers wouldn’t bother tuning in. i know i wouldn’t--i’d have gone to youtube for the darkling/darklina scenes and ignored the rest, and i know i’m not the only one. so they had to do something to really hook viewers and make sitting through the less engaging parts of the show worthwhile.
but therein lies the rub. because Six of Crows and The Grishaverse Trilogy are fundamentally different genres. they may exist in the same fantasy world, but they do not fit together thematically. the characters wouldn’t really work in each other’s worlds--and that sort of tonal clash could have worked in the show, except that they were already running up against the problem of the crows completely overshadowing alina’s narrative, even though she’s supposed to be the centerpoint of the story.
it’s shadow and bone with crows for added flavor, not six of crows with a bit more emphasis on magic. (sorry: Small Science. which still kind of makes me laugh but. yknow.)
if the crows were just like their book counterparts--if kaz were every bit as brilliant and brutal, especially--there... wouldn’t be any room for the s&b storyline. no one would pay it any mind. you already have the ‘six of crows can exist without shadow and bone, shadow and bone can’t exist without six of crows’ problem--and it really is a problem, which i suspect could have been corrected if leigh weren’t an executive producer--but that would’ve been turned up to 11 if the crows, and kaz in particular, were more true to who they were in the books. you can’t have a meaningful thematic&tonal clash if one half of it gets completely obliterated by the other, and the s&b side of the story just wouldn’t stand a chance.
you even kind of see it with nina&matthias, whose storyline existed completely separate from the main show until the very end of the season and who followed their SoC backstory beat for beat. they pulled off the enemies-to-grudging-allies-to-almost-friends-to-maybe-something-more and right back to enemies with The Betrayal, and when you contrast that with the way we all know darklina is going to be treated.... the difference is striking. and helnik was extremely distracting in terms of the overall narrative, mostly bc i was quite happy to forget that s&b was the focus any time they were on screen. and it may partially be my own bias, but i think it says something that there could have been a helnik-centric show, or even just an entire episode, and they could have easily stood on their own in a way that malina (which is supposed to be the true central romance of the series) simply can’t.
ultimately, what i think the show suffered most from was leigh calling the shots and refusing to allow any meaningful change from the original storyline. a lot of what makes the s&b segments better than the book is simply jessie’s phenomenal acting (and ben’s, of course), but once you get past her dazzling smile and charisma, you realize that alina really doesn’t have any more agency here than she did originally. she makes almost no choices independently--when she does decide to do something, it’s almost always because of mal, making her storyline revolve around him in a way that was ultimately detrimental to her character and the show as a whole--and even things like discovering the darkling’s true intentions are dumped in her lap rather than her taking any initiative. she is buffeted this way and that by the Plot’s whims, and her characterization is all over the place. again, jessie does amazingly with what she’s given and it’s a delight to watch her on screen, but the writing just doesn’t hold up under scrutiny.
they simply couldn’t bring the full power of SoC’s phenomenal writing and characterization to bare, here, without completely destroying the central storyline and making everyone wonder why we’re even bothering with the Grisha when the crows are so much more interesting and thematically resonant.
#the crows#shadow and bone#shadow and bone salt#kind of? just in case#kaz brekker#inej ghafa#jesper fahey#the darkling#alina starkov#salt for ts#s&b critical#sab spoilers#what the crows really need is a solo series focused completely on them
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Alrighty so here is my stupid, stupid theory about the Wicked Powers and the Eldest Curses.
I'm adding a keep reading option because everyone will thank me for this later. And it contains serious Eldest Curses and Last Hours spoilers. (YES. I will drag Chain of Iron into here because I want to.)
So I want to talk about what I think the antagonists in the Wicked Powers and what will happen because of it. And how the antagonists will show up.
So who do I think the antagonists are? Whelp, here's the list:
Thule people
Faerie court drama
The Cohort
Lucifer + other permanent threats
I'm going to explain the antagonists and what I think will happen. I will explain how much of a problem I think they will be.
Thule
Well, Janus is going to be in there. He had established himself as a villian from Ghosts of the Shadow Market. He's what Jace could have been if he had stayed under Sebastian's power. That is to say, a very evil Jace.
Janus had been tasked by the Seelie Queen at the end of Queen of Air and Darkness to find actual Jace Herondale. Do we want Jace kidnapped? NO. Will this cause problems? YES.
Thule as a world is a problem. Part of it leaked into our world in QOAAD, causing the warlocks to start to turn into demons. (Including a very cute purple poodle that was Malcolm Fade.)
Shadowhunters can't use their weapons and runes in this world. I wonder if it was able to influence the Shadowhunters in this world enough to stop that.
And Sebastian is still alive in Thule. We know how much of a problem he is. If he ends up in our world . . . We should be worried.
I think Thule can be a problem. It might be a huge problem. It all depends on how easily the main characters can deal with Janus.
I personally want then to deal with Janus and Thule by just yeeting him into a Portal. I can imagine Kit doing that and then dusting off his hands.
If someone can get rid of Thule easily, things will be fine. If Thule isn't dealt with early on . . . Everyone is screwed.
Faeries
We have met the First Heir of the courts. Also known as Kit Herondale. We also have the Seelie Queen, who is very evil, ruling over the Seelie Court. Along with that, Kieran is ruling the Unseelie Court.
And as we know, the Seelie Queen made Janus try and find Jace. So she ties into the Thule plot.
I feel like there is going to be some major faerie drama. Kit is going to have to fight to unite the courts, whether he wants to or not. It is his destiny to do this.
The faeries wouldn't accept Kit as their king, because he's mainly a Shadowhunter. (As we know, Shadowhunter blood breeds true.) I am hoping Kieran emerges as the king of the new courts and is able to have a good life with Cristina and Mark.
Kit is going to have face his faerie side and the powers that come with it. I'm going to love seeing his character develop through all this.
The faerie court drama is going to be in there, and part of Kit's character arc. It is needed, and if Kit and Kieran get rid of the Seelie Queen fast we might not even have to THINK about dealing with Thule.
However, this plot will need at least two books to resolve itself. That means Thule and the faeries will be involved. I'm going to touch on Thule at the very end again.
The Cohort
Ugh, I hate these guys. Especially Zara, who is the one person everyone in the fandom wants dead.
Considering what the Cohort represents and everything that had happened, they are going to reach new heights of evil. That was already in the playing cards, but I just KNOW they'll be worse than we thought they were going to be.
And the Cohort is trying to hurt the Downworlders. Alec is over there, trying to help them, but the Cohort loathes him for that.
I really don't know how important they will be. But when I talk about what I believe a main plot will be, and how Shadowhunter-Downworlder relations factor into it.
Lucifer
This one is where the Eldest Curses ties into the Wicked Powers. And this is what I think is going to be the main antagonist after a certain point.
Before you question me on this, hear me out.
The Shadowhunters have always known they will face an end to the world. It's been an idea since the very first book, City of Bones.
Jace talked about how there were more demons coming in every year, and less Shadowhunters to fight them. This was in the FIRST BOOK. And of course we had bigger fish to fry, but it's an idea that stuck with me.
I feel like even in the Infernal Devices series everyone knew there would be a demon threat so great the world could end. It wasn't as obvious, because Mortmain wasn't an antagonist that posed a large problem. His clockwork monsters were easy to defeat, and it was in Britain, which is technically an island. So they couldn't go they far unless they hopped on a boat and sailed around the world. Along with Mortmain just being a mundane.
In the Last Hours, the idea of a demon threat that could end the world is even more real. In Chain of Gold, we had to deal with demons that attacked in broad daylight, something that had never happened before.
And there was Belial, who might be planning something that messes with their weapons. (Although he won't get far. He's a terrible, even laughable villian who is being set up like this for future reasons.)
Now we have Lilith, who is a danger to this world. With Cordelia as a paladin, Lilith could have enough power to mess with the world. It's more real, but with this being a prequel, we know things will be fine.
Back to the main series, the Mortal Instruments. In the latter half of the series, Lilith shows up, and mentions her past. And this includes Sammael.
Sammael is a Prince of Hell. He poses a threat to the world. He is the one who weakened the wards in the first place with Lilith to let the demons in.
Thankfully, Simon turns Lilith into salt. We don't have to deal with her, but the threat and the demons she knows remind us how fragile this world is.
After Lilith, we have Sebastian. His demons blood makes him unstable, and he created this army of Endarkened Shadowhunters. But was his existence a threat to the fabric of the universe itself? Not really.
It could think our world, but not in the way an actual demon could. He is powerful, but Sebastian loves in pain. The demon blood in his veins weighs him down, and he has weaknesses. Clary defeated him once, and she can deal with Thule Sebastian later.
The Dark Artifices introduced the concept of the world ending. Not with Malcolm, but with Thule. Thule was a real Hell dimension, a place where the demons have taken over. A ruined world, and one where Sebastian rules over the land with an iron fist.
The only way Sebastian was able to rule over Thule was because Lilith showed up at just the right time. And strangely enough, it was shortly after she was lost from our world. Coincidence? Well, it could be, but knowing these books, it probably isn't.
In the Eldest Curses, this idea was introduced just a little on the first book. Asmodeus was there. It was a flash of it, but it seemed like the demon threat was mentioned.
The second book mentioned that idea again, with Sammael showing up. That's right. Sammael, the Once and Future Devourer of Worlds.
He really seemed to show the threat of demons. The way that no matter how hard the Shadowhunters would fight, the demons would win in the end. It said in that book Sammael would destroy the worlds in the end, no matter what.
And oh my god the epilogue. He had all the Princes of Hell in a room. And now, they are going to summon Lucifer.
Why do I think Lucifer will be outside the Eldest Curses? Because he is important.
In the folklore (my inner Swiftie is showing) Lucifer is the angel who started the rebellion in Heaven. He looked into the face of God, and turned away into the darkness. He is a force to be reckoned with.
But what happened to him? We haven't even heard of him in the Shadowhunters universe until Chain of Gold, where he was confirmed as a Prince of Hell. At first, I thought Sammael was Lucifer, because that is one of his names.
But they're two different demons. And one is more powerful.
Because Lucifer hasn't even been mentioned before, I think his sudden existence is going to be in the Wicked Powers, along with the rest of the Princes of Hell.
Belial is being set up as this whiny, sexist demon to make the other Prince of Hell so much WORSE.
The Wicked Powers is supposed to be a threat that the Shadowhunters have never faced before. And the LITERAL DEVIL? Yeah, they've never dealt with a force like him before.
But the only way the Shadowhunters can defeat the demons once and for all is by teaming up with the Downworlders. It's been hinted at. When the Shadowhunters and Downworlders work together, they are able to fight the demons off.
This is where Clary's Alliance rune comes in. Her rune, binding the Downworlders and the remaining Shadowhunters together, and they will fight.
The Cohort is going to hate this. But it's the only way to deal with Thule (which I'm going to talk about in another post) and Lucifer is with the Downworlders.
And Magnus if ping to be important. Every time Magnus is there, the Shadowhunters win.
But one my other theories is that Magnus dies. Because this is the end, and Magnus is in every single book. So for him to die, it would mark the very end.
So I guess Magnus would fight bravely in the battle and then die, to make an end to these books.
Any thoughts on this? Please reblog!
#the last hours#the wicked powers#tsc#chain of iron#the eldest curses#its crackpot time now#chain of iron spoilers#the shadowhuter chronicles#tlh#tec#magnus bane#alec lightwood bane#alec lightwood#magnus lightwood bane#clary fairchild#kit herondale#kieran kingson
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