#they are beautiful and I will fight God for them

[afterglowsainz]

body paint | alex albon

pairing: norris!reader x alex albon

summary: after alex breaks up with his girlfriend, you’re right there to help him forget about her

fc: kensington tillo

warnings: one suggestive comment, some self-deprecation? (very light stuff), harsh lando (in all brotherly fashion)

a/n: i feel like i’ve read all the alex fics on this app i need more of him :(

—

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip williams driver alex albon has officially broken up with his girlfriend of five years

view all comments

username say sike right now

username NOOOOOO

username why on earth am i mourning a relationship that isn’t mine

username so love is officially dead okay cool to know

username f1gossip you can’t just drop this bomb on me and LEAVE

username i refuse to accept this information

username they were the standard 😭

username the day i died actually

liked by alex_albon, charles_leclerc and others

ynnorris we had fun 🪩💋🍸

view all comments

username my daily inspo just posted!

username so pretty 🎀

username the cool sibling fr

ynnorris landonorris ‼️

landonorris mean

kendalljenner always have fun when you’re around 😚 (liked by ynnorris)

username i’m so glad y/n decided to attend the grand prix’s out of nowhere

username honestlyyyy why were we robbed of her existence for this long

liked by francolapinto, ynnorris and others

alex_albon had fun at the night race and getting good points for the team🌛

view all comments

username MY GOAT

username this man is so beautiful my god

francolapinto 👊🏽

username how is he still carrying that tractor into the points is beyond me

username incredible

ynnorris congrats alex!

alex_albon thank you☺️

username okay 👀 i don’t hate that

ynnorris’s instagram stories

[caption 1: 💋] [caption 2: for some reason i always end up here]

alex_albon’s instagram stories

[caption 1: recharging 🔋] [caption 2: 🌊]

liked by francisca.cgomes, pietra.pilao and others

ynnorris la isla bonita

view all comments

username first alex’s story now THIS?

username talk about soft/hard launching

username nah i recognize my boy alex in that pic

username the real question is how did he bag THE y/n norris?

username that’s crazyyyy

username okay but can we talk about how absolutely gorgeous she is? 😍

alexandrasaintmleux truly mesmerized

ynnorris me when i look at you

username absolute baddie

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip a fan met alex albon and lando norris’s sister, y/n norris, today at the airport while they were traveling together

view all comments

username all the confirmation i needed

username damn it really only took him six months to find someone else

username lando’s sister, nonetheless

username he said i’m fucking FREE

username no you don’t understand this is my superbowl

username how the hell did those two got together 😭

username most out of pocket couple but they work somehow?

username this is the day i was reborn

ynnorris’s instagram stories

[caption 1: chill weekend🧖🏼‍♀️🧼] [caption 2: 💌]

like by ynnorris, oscarpiastri and others

alex_albon good few days 😎

view all comments

username OMGOMGOMGOMG

username unhinged

carmenmmundt can alex fight?

alex_albon 🤺🤺🤺

ynnorris no need carmen i chose you!

georgerussell63 😡

username the way y/n had only attended like three grand prix’s before alex bagged her 😭

username he really didn’t waste any time

username all he had was a broken heart and faith in the universe

username my roman empire

pietra.pilao cuties 🥰

landonorris don’t encourage this 😡

pietra.pilao leave them alone 🙄

username my girlfriend (and alex’s)

ynnorris so much for taking things slow

alex_albon 😊

[strandedtoodeep]

Poolverine fics rec' ✨

Yes, FINALLY.

So, basically what the title said: some poolverine's fics recommendation because i have nearly 100 bookmarks and sharing is caring so let's go!

I'll put title, link, tag the author (if they are on tumblr), numbers of words & chapters and probably silly summary or thoughts

I'll be adding some in the future with a red exclamation❗

The one without smut have a bunny emoji 🐰

My faves are on top

If you have some recs i'm happy to take them thank you 🤲

Faves

Come Hell or High Water by @farmhandler 84k, 11 ch. || love when a fic take mental health seriously and talk about it in a way that feel so right? (bonus the smut is *chef's kiss*

Promise Me We'll Be Back In Time by @back4destiel 108k, 17 ch. || 50 First Dates was one of my favorite movie when i was a preteen (yeah) so this fic fill me with nostalgia and happiness

where soul meets body by @edgebug 33k, 3 ch. || one of my first poolverine's fic and it sets the bar so HIGH (and tbh i cried so much reading it, it's concerning)

silence is what i do best (but still i hear it all) by @cainroses 25k, 3 ch. || feral! logan is very dear to me and the character's voices in it?? absolutely delightful (beware the smut is very good but spicy)

Until you get sick of me, honestly by @3koboldsinahoodie 101k, 20ch. (on going) || i love it so much i want to forget it and discovers it again, the peak of two idiots in love it's beautiful

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) by @wickedscribbles 16k, 4 ch. || love some genderplay, bottom and protective logan, my dear, i love it but most importantly the writings is scrumptious

The Void by @rovingotter 115k, 23 ch. || i'm still trying to process what i feel with this fic, please please read this blindly and i assure you, you'll never be the same

The Soundtrack by @greatsnakestintin 39k, 14 ch. (on going) || love a good road trip fic, love music so it's absolutely perfect for me! and the plot is so?? fascinating???

Kaleidoscope by Space_wanderer 69k, 13 ch. (on going) || CHAPPELL ROAN REFERENCE! when Logan is such a idiot Wade need to go get him AGAIN in his universe

Don't you want me to run? by @decaying-lover 54k, 17 ch. (on going) || if you love angst, this fic will serve you ANGST! love their dynamics, the tension, their voices, everything

On going

Girl Dads by @starburstsobsessions 35k, 14 ch. || AU poolverine's fic are fire and this one, THIS ONE, omg! this fic makes my dream (aka seeing dilf! logan) a reality

Somewhere I belong by @terrasilvershade 24k, 6ch. || another girls dad AU but this one, my god!!! the feels?? it's so interesting to see Logan being envious and it's writing so well

Baby(girl) Don't Hurt Me by @peargreen-jellybean 16k, series with 4 works || 4 fics and i love them all! some good poolverine pining & domestic bliss + men in lingeries (my weakness)

In Another Life by @flash-bastardd 32k, 10 ch. || x-men origins but better! (bc it's gay) i have some feelings with this movie but this fic healed me and i love it!

🐰 Take Me Through the Darkness to the Break of the Day by The_Colour_Yellow 16k, 9 ch. || a very good fic around hanahaki disease with my two favorites idiots??? sign me in! even with so much hurt and angst UGH

call me when you’re ready to be real by @maroonmused 23k, 9 ch. || "and they were roommates" ofc like it's not absolutely obvious for EVERYONE except themself; a very good domestic bliss!

Don't Want To Be A Fool For You by @cuntylogan 45k, 2 ch. || bartender! logan who try to fight his addiction (and slowly fall in love) has a special place in my heart, you go boy

How To Pay For Rent 💸 by @fictionfeast 42k, 3 ch. || this fic feels like a fever dream, but a OH SO GOOD and well writing fever dream! (ngl as a french person Craig List scares me)

Complete

🐰 the dollhouse by @kanashikute 4k, OS || love the fluffiness in this fic, love how Logan accept to love, be loved and doesn't left Wade behind UGH they're so cute in this one!!!

🐰 Glass Shards by greaserbabes 9k, 2 ch. || always love when Logan and Wade are SO STUPIDLY in love; ngl the scene with the glass shards make me cry every time

🐰 The Folly Of Playing Gay Chicken Too Hard (Phrasing) by GayLord3000 3k, OS || the domestic fic where Wade is the stupid one, being so stupid in fact it's nearly cost him his relationship with Logan whoops

Love shot by lillygoeson 28k, 6ch. || another bartender! logan one, but AU no powers AND with a good "twist" in the middle; this fic is so bittersweet and good oml

look at you by @weedwilson 3k, OS || yes it's shameless smut and mirror sex, my beloved... and I LOVE when Logan worshipping Wade this much bc he deserves it

It's Just Chemistry by @farmhandler 37k, 5 ch. || in the same universe of Come Hell or High Water, there is so... so much angst but it's very good angst!!! still love this specific dynamic

🐰 We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do) by @nikaandtea 8k, OS || HOZIER REFERENCE! i'm still so happy when a fic talk about chronic pain combined with domestic bliss i'm totally sold

Night Terrors by educatedwish 50k, 13 ch. || love how Logan is written is this fic, how PTSD messed with his feelings in a serious way... my heart melt everytime i read it

second nature to me now by @edgebug 36k, OS || a investigation in a gay club??? with my two idiots in love?? and with old gay Logan? i giggled so hard reading this, i LOVE IT

🐰 It Feels Like Home by @twentyghosts 10k, 6 ch. || one of my favorite trope is the 5+1 and this one... my god, right in the feels! so much fluffiness, coziness, it warm my heart

🐰 stuck by the glue (oh and you) by prngslvr 3k, OS || a good rewriting of (some scenes) from DP&W, and one of my first fluff and non-smut fic that i read after watching the movie!

Let Me Get Back to You by ratflavored 14k, 2 ch. || pls i want to read more fics with phone sex in it (i know it's specific) but in the meantime, this one is SO good (and full of feels too)

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by signifier 10k, OS || i have a thing for time loop and this kind of fuckery, it's short but good and i love the title it make me chuckles

Oh, God, I Think I'm Fallin' by @slut-arc 15k, 5 ch. || the return of domestic poolverine and YES I KNOW but it's my weakness... and Logan is so emotionally constipated it's concerning

the bucket list by @kanashikute 33k, 4 ch. || read this one, please, really, it's so bittersweet BUT i promise there's a good ending (and i cried so much while reading it)

🐰 he’s the headlights, I’m the deer by NatalieK 7k, OS || it's interesting to see Logan's losing his healing factor for once instead of Wade! and seeing Wade taking care of him, my heart

🐰 holding out for a hero by @splinnters 6k, 3 ch. || once again, i have a soft spot for Logan trusting Wade so much he called him when something is wrong and this, THIS is good

🐰 I've got some color back (he thinks so too) by @mid13s 3k, OS || just a short fic with non-sexual intimacy because these two need comfort, hugs and a lot of affection (and the Hozier reference is chef's kiss)

[fionnemrys]

This is such a beautiful gif set. A mutual just wrote about not being able to read low-contrast text on gifs like these, so I thought I’d try my hand at writing an ID for the set.  Each image is shown in gold tones with text overlayed in white and gold. In most of them, the text is a mix of white all caps non-serif font and a larger loose cursive style font in gold. For the overlayed text description, I’ll type the cursive cursive words in all caps and the rest in proper case.

 Gif 1 ID: Image of Kara Danvers in a cardigan handling a telescope and holding a mug. Her hair is loose and hanging over her shoulders. Overlayed text reads: “PLEASE, LET HER BE SOFT.”

Gif 2 ID: Image of Supergirl looking into the camera looking serious and heroic. Overlayed text reads, “I know you made her with GUNMETAL BONES and WOLF'S TEETH. I know you made her to be a WARRIOR, a SOLDIER, a HERO.” Gif 3 ID: Close-up image of Kara Danvers with her hair in a ponytail. She is wearing a crewneck sweater and has a sad, concerned expression on her face. Overlayed text reads, “But even GUNMETAL can warp and even WOLF'S TEETH can dull and I don’t want to see her BREAK the way old and worn and OVERUSED things do.” Gif 4 ID: Image of Supergirl being thrown into water by Superman during a fight. Overlayed text reads, “I do not want to see her go up in FLAMES the way all heroes end up MARTYRS.” Gif 5 ID: Image of Supergirl looking pensive, possibly regretful. Overlayed text reads, “I know that you will tell me that the world needs her. The world needs her HEART and her FAITH and her COURAGE and her STRENGTH and her BONES and her TEETH and her BLOOD and her VOICE and her–  The world needs anything she will give them." Gif 6 ID: Image of Lena Luthor looking up at the person speaking to her. She is in black and white, her hair is up in a bun, and the background is in tones of yellow. Overlayed text reads, “DAMN the world. And DAMN you too. DAMN anyone that ever asked anything of her, DAMN anyone that ever took anything from her, DAMN anyone that ever prayed to her name.”

Gif 7 ID: Two images of Supergirl overlayed. In one, she is on her hands and knees. In the other, she is rising to her feet. Overlayed text reads, “You know that she will give them everything until there is nothing left of her but the imprint of dust WHERE HER FEET ONCE TROD. You know that she will bear the world like Atlas until her shoulders collapse and her knees buckle AND SHE IS CRUSHED BY ALL SHE USED TO CARRY.” Gif 8 ID: Image of a group of DC heros in black and white, including Batwoman, Green Arrow, Superman, Flash, and Supergirl. Overlayed text reads, “DEAR GOD,  you have already made an ATLAS. You have already made an ACHILLES and an ICARUS and a HERCULES. You have already made so many heroes, and you can make another again. You can have your pick of heroes.” Gif 9 ID: Image of Lena Luthor with tears in her eyes. She is wearing a black shirt and her hair hangs over one shoulder in a braid. Overlayed text reads, “So please, I beg you–  SHE IS ALL THAT I HAVE, and you have so many heroes, and the world has so many more.”

Gif 10 ID: Split frame of two images. The left side is Kara Danvers relaxed and laughing with a glass of wine in her hand. She is wearing a grey cardigan and her hair is in a loose, messy bun. The right side is Lena Luthor relaxed and laughing with a glass of wine in her hand. She is wearing a red top and her hair is loose and falling over her shoulders. Overlayed text reads, “Let her be SOFT, and let her be MINE.”

Original poem by @pencap. Text can be found here.

cc: @thatonebirdwrites

@usergif’s back to cool event ღ CHALLENGE #5: GROWTH Please, let her be happy. (original.)

[xnova239x]

Thoughts on the final few Emmrich romance scenes below. T’is quite long, sorry.

Now, I am not one that likes the idea of going to bed angry or upset with your partner. But, in terms of this game, and the events within it, particularly at this section? I understand why.

This game is themed on Regret.

If you take Emmrich with you during the run to Ghilan’nain, he makes an attempt to apologise for the argument. But both he and Rook know that this is not exactly a good time to have that conversation. She promises to speak with him back at the Lighthouse. He accepts that choice.

I don’t know about how your games played out. But, my game did something beautiful and had no romantic combat dialogue trigger after the argument and up until this apology attempt. Which would be understandable for a couple who has just had a pretty big disagreement. They’re angry with one another and hurting.

It was only after Ghilan’nain had trapped him and my Rook released him, that it triggered again. After the “Emmrich! You’re okay!” “Thanks to you, dearest!”

(Listen to the utter relief in Rook’s voice here, btw)

And then Solas springs his trap card.

And Rook is lost in the Fade.

If I remember correctly in my hazy aftermath of those final missions, it’s implied that Rook was lost for several days. Enough time for the team to create the fake lyrium dagger. I don’t know about you… but I see Emmrich hyper-focusing on this work to try and stop himself from losing his absolute shit in fear.

He agreed to join this group in hopes of seeing and studying ancient magics and beings.

And here’s this pretty, young thing. Wild and free - bringing a little bit of chaos into his well-ordered world.

He finds the love of his life. His soulmate. The flame of his heart. The most magnificent thing that has ever happened to him.

And now he’s lost her.

Her promise of speaking to him later, of them fixing everything after their fight… disappears with her. And his regret of not saying anything… of not just apologising when he had the chance… eats at him.

He feared he lost her forever to the Fade.

But then, by Rook’s own reflection and sheer tenacity, she escapes the prison. Something Solas couldn’t even do without preparing a replacement.

He has her back.

But… Solas cursed her. He needs to make sure the Wolf’s magic is gone. So, he organises a trip to the Necropolis to use its enchantments to ensure she is safe. She is whole. And, there is no trace. She escaped clean and of her own mind. She was able to self-reflect and escape the Prison of Regrets. A prison for Gods.

She is the most remarkable person he has ever known.

The love scene. He finally knows and accepts her love here. She clawed her way out of hell for them… for him. He no longer doubts her love, her affection… that she wants him just as much as he does her.

He allows her to pull him up… pull him to her. Initiate intimacy. Allows her to lead. Another way of showing him that, yes… she wants this.

(And, of course, they would fuck in a coffin. Something gloriously gothic about that.)

Afterward, is wonderfully domestic. New lovers waking, asking if the other would like breakfast. Perfectly happy in this new development. Reassuring each other that hey, this is it. They are truly together now. Everything they do… will be together.

I love you, my darling Rook

No man alive is more fortunate than I

Speak the word, Rook, and I shall stand by your side

They will face the fury of a god-like tyrant, knowing that they will always have each other’s back. He will never leave her side.

He is hers, and she is his… forevermore.

I have loved… truly and honestly loved… this romance. I fear I have spoiled myself. Something about this couple has ticked every single box on my ‘shipper list and has its spiritual claws dug deep into my heart. I honestly don’t think I can even attempt romancing someone else on another playthrough. At least, not for a while.

So I want to say a huge thank you to Sylvia Feketekuty. What a brilliant mind, to create such a wonderful character and romance. Emmrich has to be one of my most favourite Dragon Age characters ever. This romance is one of my most favourite BioWare romances ever. I have adored every second with them… went through every emotion with them. It has been a beautiful experience.

Intimate and Sensual. Perfect description. 10/10.

[qin-qin16]

[cw: Kist in the most sick and hateful way, thoughts of killing, canonish killer and dust (?), Dust is referred to “it”]

Dust is an interesting specimen for Killer; a monster with a high LV, trembling bones from accumulating so much magic, black stains spread across its body like a plague – it's karma for the choices it made. And its reactions couldn’t be more precious: its eyelights perpetually dilated, unfocused, drifting in any direction, a pale face with deep, hollowed eyes, the bone around the sockets tinged purple like dark, swollen circles, growing more pronounced with each sleepless night (these are the moments Killer watches closely, keeping a watchful empty eye through the small gap in the door).

Yet, as much as Dust was the brightest little rat in his mental lab, it was also the most loathsome. Killer dreamed — sometimes even in his delirium — of wrapping his bone hands around Dust's neck, pressing its vertebrae until they cracked, and finally snapping them in a beautiful, singular melodic note.

How dare it stand beside him? Something so rotten, so sinful, worse than his melted soul? Something that chose to end the lives of hundreds, something that chose to kill its own brother over and over again, until not a single drop of pain remained — until even the ashes were gone. Dust never had to fight against the hands of God to reclaim its freedom; he never had to endure the whispers and commands of an unrelenting force, a greater power that desired nothing but new toys — new scenarios to experiment with, sadistic scenes where Killer played the leading role.

But the worst of all, the aspect that Killer couldn’t stand: Dust kept being Sans. Killer, the monster who never asked to be like this, the monster who tried everything to avoid becoming like this; he was less of a Sans than the other, he was less of a monster. And that couldn’t be more frustrating, it couldn’t be more painful and confusing for him.

But he couldn’t kill it – studying it? That was another matter. As long as his experiments didn’t weaken Dust or interfere with his missions, Killer had complete freedom from Nightmare to do whatever he wants. Perhaps the only mercy after all this time from his boss - to let all his anger in his oh so predictable playmate.

Kist for you my liege @what-have-i-unleashed

and Killer is for you @howlsofbloodhounds

[newkatzkafe2023]

Took me a bit to think of this. BUUT Here I am 😈 For Genderbend Wukong month A male y/n who is the owner and main bartender of a bar (or tavern for the historical monkies). Charming, and a tease, but with an ice cold, calculating temper if someone were to mess around with his bar, or lord forbid, his monkey queens. Also the kind of guy to hide a shotgun under the counter of his establishment 0-0 (or some blunt weapon in the historical ones)

Like, one day he is chilling in the bar, chatting with monkey queen, some knucklehead walks in and tries to start trouble with monkey queen. But before she can kick them to kingdom come, Y/N shoots dude in the head with the shotgun, (alternatively, bashes their skull in with a bat) then just turns around and says; "I do hope that was not too much trouble for you, sweetheart. Here, have any drink, on the house." Calm and sweet as if he's not covered in blood.

This is Very Moe szyslak coded and I love it🤣🤣🤣

(Lmk Wukong) You have her wrapped around your lego claws with how sweet and kind you are. You first met a few months back when she wanted a to buy some drinks for her home, that was until she made eye contact with a Hot male monkey with a sweet smile, that left her breathless. You smiled at her

(M/N) Welcome to my bar peachpie, now what can I get you??☺️

Yeah Wukong was struck with cupids arrow that day, and for weeks she continued to both visit you and blab to everyone about you. Mk and Mike (male mei) can tell she liked you alot and decided to meet you along with everyone else. Of course you welcomed everyone with the same friendly smile and got soda and snacks for everyone and you all became fast friends, until the atmosphere was ruin by Wukong's enemies who didn't like the idea of losing to a women🙄🙄🙄 Mk and the others joined in the fight to help her. Until the demons were blown away with their corpses on fire, everyone slowly turned to see you holding a shotgun with an angry look on your slightly blooded face.

(Mk) WHOA!!!?!?!😲😲😲

(Macaque) God damn😥😥😥

(Mike) BRO HE ROTISSERIE CHICKEN THEIR ASSES!!!!!!

(M/n) Yeah Sorry about the mess folks, I'm usually better at controlling my temper, here's some snacks and drinks on the house 😥

All Wukong did was stare at you with a blush on her face

(MKR Wukong) Wukong has been acting Strangely, not in a I'm mighty pissed but in a I might have met someone and i don't want people to know way. Pigsy being the nosy fat bastard he was followed Wukong to a place called M/n's tavern, and their he saw her purring and flirting with a tall monkey man. She was smiling and every as she cuddle and laid on to the chest of the taller male, the two even kissed🤩😲. To say Pigsy was shocked is an HUGE understatement, because Wukong got a boyfriend!!! While pigsy ran to tell the monk Wukong sat and had a few drinks with you.

(M/n) more wine for you my dear as you tell me about your day😊

(MKR)(blushes) Oh yes and thank you😌

As you guys continued your date, when a large Demon thug busted in demanding to fight the monkey queen, Wukong was automatically pissed as her quality time with you was interrupted. Then something she didn't expect happened before she can do anything, she saw a large spiky bat make contact with the jacka**'s face he was now a headless bleeding corpse. Just in time to see the monk and the pilgrims bust in but Wukong was looking at something else. Soon the group joined at staring at you with a large bat and some blood on your angry face

(M/n): I'm awfully sorry about the mess dear here's some drinks for you and your friends, I'll clean this up.

Wukong was more madly in love with you then ever, and everyone can also see why your dating.

(NR Wukong) She quickly became a regular at your bar, you told her you don't get many beautiful woman around your bar and she was hooked! Every night she would come back for not only the drinks but to see the sexy man that man's the bar from behind. You had no problem flirting back at her for being such a sweetheart even giving her a few drinks as you bond and flirt

(M/n) My dear queen, this is the 4th night in a row surely my drinks Can't be that good😇

(NR) Oh your drinks are fine, but I'm loving the one who makes them even more😉😘

Just then a group of demons came Barging in not only making a mess in the bar but as began harassing the monkey queen, which totally raised yours and Wukong's blood pressure. Wukong got up and was going to teach these loser scrubs idoits a lesson before she saw not one, not two but all of the bastard get blowed to the shadow realm. Wukong was shocked at the look at your face as you were pissed and had blood on it while holding your large shot gun. You finally and apologized to her.

(M/N) Here's another drink madam, as an apology for my Barbaric outburst😥

Wukong would have loved the other drink if she was busy Making out with you.

(HIB Wukong) Fudge did Wukong have a very stressful week, Luier caught a cold and Silly boy has been acting up lately. Not to mention some more demons were picking fights with her, over a lot of old stupid sh*t. She was just so stressed out and needed to unwind a bit so, she went to your bar and fell face first exhausted. After a While a fancy drink was put in front of her

Wukong was mildly confused then she looked up to see a Incredibly handsome monkey man with a sweet smile offering her a drink

(M/n) Here Darling you look like you can use itsmack

(Wukong) I'm sorry I'm kinda strapped for cash

(M/N) darling no you deserve it

Wukong smiled as she felt relaxed around you and soon found herself opening up to you about everything in her life, that was until a group of knucklehead decided to come and mess up your tavern, while harassing the monkey queen. You quickly guessed these are the cause of Wukong's stress, and before Wukong can Get up and whooped their ass again. You grabbed a large spiky bat from behind your bar and Whacked those guys so hard that they became classified blood stains on your floor. You face was distorted from rage and covered in blood then you turned to Wukong...

(M/n) I apologize for both the mess and the outbursts, your drink is still on the house I'll take care of the mess😅

Wukong now wandered if you were single😮😳

(Netflix Wukong) She stood infront of M/n's tavern with a nervous blush on her face, she looked over to see Lin give her a thumbs up before she took a deep breath and finally went inside. You see Wukong had grown a huge crush on the owner of the place AKA you, for weeks now but she never knew how to talk to you until she got some advice from Lin. Now here she is walking over to you saying hi and introducing herself to you. You had quickly gave her your name with a gentle smile, she was quick to relax and hit it off well.......that was until some demons who were beefing with the monkey queen Barge in and made a mess at your bar. As the demanded for a rematch and Wukong was mighty pissed at them for ruining her first impression for you, well that was until the same demon quickly became smashed fruity under a large bat. Wukong was shocked to see you holding a large bat you hit behind your bar, you calm down and made a drink for her

(M/n) Here sweetheart it's on the house sorry you had to see that😓😓😓

Later Lin had ask how it went, and Wukong told him your both already dating with Marriage in mine🥰🥰🥰

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh she was a regular at your tavern coming over every night and drinking your rice wine and paying you more then the drinks were worth. She was quite a handful but you never minded you love when she would come over, for she had plenty of interesting stories for you to listen too. Wukong also valued her time with you as she liked you more then a Companion and saw you as mate material but then one nice....

(M/n) So then what happened queenie??🙃

(BMW) Well, I knocked all those pathetic men on the asses. The look on their face was priceless 🤣

You were both laughing at the story, until some Familiar faces came and Barge into the tavern turns out the guys she whooped were not taking their loss to great and followed Wukong here for a rematch. Wukong was ready to grant the their suicide request until suddenly a Bat bat bashed their heads in turning them all into minced meat, it was you with blood covering your enraged face.

(M/n) I'm sorry my queen I'll get this cleaned up right away 😓

Wukong just stood their with hearts in her eyes😍😍😍

(Destined one) Now it was the destined one who captured your heart first, especially when she had such a cute face even when she looked curious. She came to your tavern because she had walked quite a way and her feet were killing her badly. You learned in her silence that she's called the destined one and that she is on a mission, and you took it upon yourself to listen and take care of her offering her to stay at your tavern. That was until thugs had bust in trying to rob not only you but he harassed and insult the destined one. She was just gonna ignore the guy until she saw you take out a bad and turn that moron into a pile of guts. You had blood on your face but turned calmly to the destined one and gave her a drink

(M/N) On the house young miss, I'm sorry about my outburst.I just didn't like what he said to you😊

The Destined one did not know what to make if this, but now she was very interested in you

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[mauveastrum]

Classics student’s guide to romanticising november

While I personally love november, I understand why some people can’t really always appreciate it; especially where I live, it gets real gray around this time, when autumn still lingers and Christmas and winter are quite not here yet. A liminal space. Here are some little tips, habits, things from wellness to whatever that I like to enjoy in november when I’m not cooped up in the library battling with the attic verb system. :)

Coffee to wake you up in the morning, maybe another one at lunch if your short nights sleep is still lingering; different teas throughout the day to keep you warm from the inside as the weather gets chillier each passing day

a bowl of (warm) porridge with your favorite toppings in the morning, either prepared at home or ordered at a cafe with your friend

Dark red nails, preferably long, preferably with small metallic accents (I prefer gold and bronze, silver works very well too)

Seasonal fruits and vegetables; pomegranates! Persephone’s journey to Hades has once again taken place.

Adding a little bit of darkness to your eyes, it’s your pick whether that’s with kayal, smudged eyeliner, eyeshadow or just a gracious layer of mascara; but remember to not rub your eyes when you stayed too late at the library translating Catullus’ latin poetry! Alternatively, just rock those dark underyes baby

November is the month of poets, artists, thinkers, lovers and wanderers, you know what they say. Write, draw, think, love, wander! I keep a diary where I try to write everyday. Try to find small pleasures in the mundane and write them down. Beauty is omnipresent. I also have been trying to sketch more when I don’t have the energy nor the time to complete complex illustrations and paintings. Small but meaningful.

Pretty candles, scented or unscented, perhaps each one lit as an honoring to a god, goddess, daimon or your lares; in the colder months I like to light a candle in honor of Vesta/Hestia and ask her to keep my apartment warm

Preparing for winter by slowly switching to more thicker and moisturizing skin- and haircare products. Do this as you run out of one product, don’t give in to overconsumption, be mindful with what you buy and what you put on your skin and hair

Remember to move your body. Whether this is walking, running, stretching, strength-training, pilates… the options are endless and the choice is yours! Even little movement can help you fight that seasonal depression.

Big scarves, long jackets, leather gloves. Gives you an aura of mystery and keeps you protected from the weather

These are just some of my favorite things at this time. If you read through all of this I’d really love to hear if you have your own sacred little rituals around this time of the year. Thank you for being here, remember to be kind to yourself and others, and speak up for those whose voices are being silenced. Go make your novembers mythical🖤

Valete,

Mauve

[ryololart]

Tex Losing Her Legs

Tw: childhood trauma, gore, trauma in general, angst

My head is woozy, I can feel the blood draining from my forehead. It falls like rivers of red making paths down my cheeks to my chin where it drips off like a waterfall. Stars explode in front of my face. They cry and sing out for me, but their words are sharp and prick my ears. The sparks shine, coating my face in ash and dust making my eye itch and water. I try to stretch out my arms but they are limp to my sides. I am a phoenix rising from embers but forever cursed to wallow in her grave. It is sort of  beautiful to be stuck in such a state, unable to do a thing but watch as the world swallows me whole. 

“Up! Up! Texas let’s go,” the star's sorrowful plea is strained and exhausted. My mouth opens to say ‘I can’t’ but I have lost the ability to, instead a groan escapes. The sound does not appear as it has come from me, the pitch not familiar. The normal rasp is not equipped, instead it is wet and desperate. The dark around the stars becomes shaky. The once opaque landscape is translucent, colors shifting and changing behind a curtain. I can see time passing me by as I sit, unable to perceive the change. 

I heard a story once, about a man who lost connection to the International Space Station. He was on shift to repair something on the outside and his tether was not attached correctly. He floated out into space for three hours before someone was able to rescue him. He describes the incident as one of those life changing moments, where you realize everything is finite. One day you are at the top of your physics program, and worried about the upcoming test, the next you are with your family cheering that you got into the NASA Astronaut program, and then you are floating off into space, alone, in silence, where nothing matters. You look back at Earth now, from way above, no one knows that there is a man just floating above the atmosphere. Is that what God feels like? To just watch from above as patterns shift and change? This is what I imagine he felt like, time running away, no way to calculate how long it has been. No way to tell the people in your life how much you love them, no way to look back at all the things you have done in pride, no, you just drift away, empty, watching forever. God must be lonely.

I hoped that death would be like falling asleep after a long car ride and your parents carrying you to bed. You try to hide the smile that shows you did it on purpose to be carried, to feel the love that comes from that unspoken devotion a parent has to their child. The warm hands that could not be mistaken for another embrace your skin, unbuckling you from the seat. The being is so careful to climb up the stairs and to not let your creaky bed door ring out. Those same hands tuck you into bed as the body they belong to whispers a soft good night like a lullaby. 

“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” the stars scream again, this time in the form of people. Their hands grip my shoulders as lights shine in my face. Not like the beautiful show from before, now like bombs going off overhead. The stars explode and shriek, bursts of color here and there. It overloads my senses and I feel myself sinking further into my grave. All the sudden you are not floating in space anymore, you are running with everything you have left to give.

Death is like a march to the finish line, not the gentleness of a parent’s love. Not the soft warmth of being carried home. No. It is the  pop of the gun that goes off before you are ready to run. The heart starts racing, the mind is on overdrive, the fight to survive flowing through your blood in the form of adrenaline. The lungs gasp for air, trying to climb out your throat to reach the oxygen, no amount that you gulp down makes a difference. There is a sitch in the side that is unwelcome telling you time is up, give in. Just give in. Yet the body keeps going, the perfect machine, determined to win against nature. 

“Evangeline,” the glaze that was once over my eyes evaporates into the air and I see the first familiar thing, a pair of dark gray iris’s pouring into mine. “Do not look down.” 

A pair of gloves that appear to be bleeding before me tilts my head up, completely disorienting me once again. I want to close my eyes and go back into the comfort of my dark escape, but my body is running the race, forcing myself to acknowledge the world. I try to let my lungs expand to open to the world but I choke on something thick and boiled. I try to spit, pushing my lips together but the muscles scream at me to stop moving. I give an involuntary cough at the uncomfort in my throat and my body lights up like a christmas tree. Every single nerve explodes into fireworks, expanding and contracting, trying to connect with the sky by reaching up into the atmosphere. Yet they stay trapped in my body, paralyzing me.

There is someone else there, I can feel his movements in the sensory receptors that is making up for my lack of awareness. He keeps my face tilted up towards his and I can hear sounds coming out his mouth but they do not mean anything. The gibberish is not familiar but his voice, so rough and brutal as I am used to,  is instead sorrowful and desperate. Something is wrong, I know this, but I crave the comfort of being unknowing. I choose that it is okay in this moment to accept that I will never see that starry night my brain made for me, I will only ever see the smoke clouding the ceiling like a mirror reminding me of my state. 

The pain fades for a second as I take my first breath and what must have been hours. I can feel the shakiness of my chest as it expands. My skin is hot and wet and I can’t grip onto anything. As my conscience awakens I frantically try to take in my surroundings. Gray cement floors. White walls now painted in abstract red. Black-covered bodies run in the room. As the relief floods the pain returns and I gasp loudly. The cough comes again, harder this time and blood follows out my mouth. It is sticky and warm, coating my chin and the hand holding up my face. 

“How much longer, Roach?” He exclaims, using his thumb to wipe the blood away.

“I need another minute, we gotta set what we can or we may lose half of her.” Roach yells back. That is when I realize I can’t feel below my waist, all the pain that is shooting through me is only from there up. I managed to look as far down as a can, only to be met with Roach’s body crouched over my legs. Or what seemingly remains of them. 

My hand flies up to grip Simon’s vest and he catches it reflexly. I look at him in shock trying to remember how to breathe, my legs, they are just masses of blood. My boot is twisted backwards on the right side, my left is bent at the femur. 

“No, Evan, stay with me. You are in shock, we are going to get out of here.” He holds my hand bringing it to his masked face. All my thoughts scream however, you are stuck, you are stuck, you are stuck. Suddenly I am no longer in the Karoknoze Mountains, I am in Sanderson, Texas.

 My childhood bedroom was characterized by lead paint and mold. The walls were a pale pink that was chosen by my mother. She was so excited to have a daughter, finally, after a boy who caused her so much trouble. Mason got in so much trouble, whether in school with other kids and teachers, or with our father. All my mother wanted was to raise a baby girl, a child that was one of her kind. One that would have her back and be on her side no matter what. The love between a mother and daughter is like no other, they are intertwined from birth. A daughter is the soul captured when it left her mother, the soul that is fighting over and over to remain innocent, however, all souls only exist to be corrupted.  It is the deer in headlights, trying to move, but stuck, in ever revolving hell. The car keeps coming and coming, yet you watch in awe, the lights are so beautiful. Let them come and take me, I’d rather bathe in this unforgiving light than live this light of fight. Women fight every single day to just exist peacefully, and every day it gets harder. Every single mother and daughter suffer the cycle, bending time in hopes that the original sin will be forgiven. However God is considered a Man. Men are not friends of women. The daughter carries her mother’s sins to try to become anew, to only suffer the same fate with the best of intentions. They are doomed. The door knob that has been broken off so many times twists and makes a horrible sound. 

“Mason, you are in the wrong room,” My 14 year old body sits up as I watch from the back of my mind. My thin, thread-bare, white tank top starts to fall off my shoulder as a small hand, worn and torn, pushes it back up. I can smell the drink on him, the alcohol writing over the damp smell that always sits in this room. I call him again as he opens  the door fully.“Mason.”

“Hola, Princessa,” He takes a swig from the bottle that swishes in his hand. His wife beater stained brown from the excess he indulges in. He tries to go for a Spanish accent but fails miserably, I’m not sure if it is the drink or the fundamental lack of ability. It is ultimately impressive that he cannot speak Spanish when he spends more time in Mexico and dealing with the Mexicans than in Texas.

“Mason, go back to your room.” My body sits up against the wall pulling the covers up with me. Fear is stricken in every joint as they creak and groan with the movements. I feel frozen physically, my bones molded together with metal. His heavy footsteps made the floorboards scream as he entered my room, the light from the window forcing a shadow behind him.

“I have missed you sister, you are always gone when I’m home,” His words slur as he approaches the bed. A hand gripping the covers, pulling against my own strength. My face quivers like a doe, his body just one big light. “You owe me little girl.” 

His bottle falls onto my bed as a knee breaches the soft blanket. I swing my legs over the side and my feet touch the floor as his hand lurches out, grabbing me by the face, my mouth covered in its wake. I scream but no one is here as he pulls me back. I am stuck. I am stuck. I am stuck. 

Then the door opens again but this time it is another beast with its own lights, however they are worn and dim. The lights speak to each other as I raise my hooves to his hand and let my teeth bite down as hard a possible. Blood sprays my face and he jumps back. I hit the floor and get to the window, pushing it up, and make my escape. Just as I get outside a bottle hits the window and the glass sprays everywhere. I gasp and hit the hard floor of the desert before limping out into the darkness, not bothering to check behind me.

Before  I can realize I am being pulled across the cement, the gentle hand that is holding my face has left me. Instead I can feel someone else’s reach under my back and pull me up. I try to rip myself away with the little strength I can muster but only a fool tries to run on broken legs. I am a horse to be shot for sure. I am no longer useful. 

Then I see the glint of the sunglasses in an already dark room, the shine of a gun being forced into my hand, a tap on the side of my face that only means one thing. Get home. When Roach realizes I am no longer fighting him he wretches me up and over his shoulder. I lay limply there, just my torso making contact with his strong body. My fingers squeeze my gun as I keep my eyes on the back of his heels. He pats the side of my thigh and he moves quickly and precisely. The hallways zigzagged like a maze. It’s all shaky, hard to perceive. Colors and lights dancing in front of my eyes as we make our escape. 

[asnowdriftsomewhere]

Wild Heart

A Helion story

Read on Ao3

Summary: The grand, final ballad was reaching its crescendo and I didn’t want to miss one note of it. This last perfect song that played along his skin, it danced through his hair and whispered in his eyes. I heard it now, the chords I'd been looking for all my life… It wasn't a melody at all but a soul that matched my own. This male, whose name I did not know, belonged to me, and I would destroy myself before I let any more harm befall him.

Warnings: HURT/COMFORT, angst, War, mention SA, mentally disable character, aphasia, suicidal thoughts, mention torture, abuse,

(let me know if i should add others)

Word Count: 3619

A/N: takes place in that little pocket of time just before Amren destroys the Hybern army and before Feyre and Rhys fix the Cauldron.

I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think!!

Beta read by: @queen-vessaraia-ashlynne

Sometimes, the beginning is not the beginning. Sometimes, the beginning is the middle, and the story is told in both directions at the author's will. Sometimes, the beginning is the last ordinary day lived before everything changes, when life is not happy, but peaceful and quiet. Sometimes, the beginning is war and blood and chaos. The complete destruction of serenity. Sometimes, the story begins with the shattering of a soul. The rending of a person's psyche until they are not who they were before but are born again within the shadows. Until they are reforged by the fires of hell and emerge as something new, something to behold.

And sometimes, sometimes the story begins with the end. When the author has woven their tale and the tapestry can no longer be altered. When the players have been sealed within their fates and cannot be saved.

Sometimes, there is no happy ending, only the beauty of the story told along the way.

My story began with amber eyes meeting mine across the killing field. He was on his knees, the Hybern Commander above him preparing the killing blow of a magic so great that it turned my head, even amongst the chaos reigning around me. I didn't know what it was, I didn't understand what pulled me into the middle of the battle like a siren's song sung to my soul, a call to the hunt that I could not ignore. But I stumbled through the dirt and the mud, the bodies and viscera coating my bare legs in blood and gore as I moved mindlessly through the violence unfolding around me.

Steel clashed against steel. Fae males and beasts alike roared their fury into the skies - but I wasn't listening to them. There was music in the death blooming like a field of wildflowers around me, a song in the rage like the ash in the wind. I felt it in my bones, and I followed it through the fighting until I saw them. Two fae males locked in a battle of magic, a mountain of bodies between them. The lives of those foolish enough to step between the wielders of fate were now nothing more than corpses, ragdolls at their feet as they faced off against each other and bent reality to their will.

The magic was a melody I'd been waiting to hear for what felt like forever. My fractured mind watched their spells like they were notes of a chord that surrounded and enveloped me. It soothed my sensitive skin and eased some of the weight I felt hanging heavily around my heart. I followed it like a light in the shadows until there was only a few scant yards between us.

The Hybern Commander I recognized. His was a face I saw in my nightmares; I knew what his hands felt like on my body, what his magic did to my being, and I smiled softly at the disheveled state of him. He was bruised and bloody, a trail of rubies leaking from his nose and down his throat. I wondered what gems he would spawn if someone split his skin from ear to ear. I wondered if his bones would shine like ivory or were they black as sin beneath his robes. Who would he beseech when I peeled the flesh from his limbs? Which of his Fae gods would he beg to intervene on his behalf? After all, he knew I had no one to cry out for when he entered my cell night after night. He knew there was no one to save me as I was dragged through war, from camp to camp. Thrown into his tent as a personal plaything, a gift from the King himself. I wondered if he would beg, as I had, to see just one more sunrise. I wondered if he would dream of possibility. If he would marvel at the birth of a young god or ponder when his story began - when the end would come.

Something was building in me as I considered what shape his screams would take, if his fear would heal some small piece of my sundered spirit, if - in the end - it mattered at all. Like a tidal wave cresting through my body, I plucked the notes from the skies until a shattered refrain danced around me, ready to impose just a fraction of the pain I'd suffered onto the male who had inflicted it. I walked across the bottom of an ocean and dragged the weight of it behind me like a cloak of retribution to be unleashed upon the world which had scattered me to the winds.

The other male fell to his knees before the Commander. Blood was splattered across his dark skin like rose petals, staining his white robes. His hair was braided back, a ribbon the color of sunbeams tied at the end, drifting in the wind that circled him. It matched his eyes.

Eyes that were staring at me.

Everything stopped. The universe held its breath, and the music changed. The song of war and reckoning that had led me here faded, and a new melody played between our souls. A softer chord to caress my jagged edges and cradle my fractured mind. This male was the beginning of me, the sunrise that promised possibility, and the song I could always hear but never find. Like a dream brought to life, the music shifted and settled within me and the Hybern Commander drifted away like a fine mist in the wind as the world began again.

He watched me, amber eyes locked with mine as we studied each other. The war raging around us was little more than white noise compared to the song singing in my blood. My heart was a drum in my chest and my breath came in ragged pants as I stood frozen amid the death. The shattered refrain around me still hummed in my veins and I felt it crash against my edges. It was a force that would not be ignored, that demanded to be unleashed. It would turn everything around me into dust - as it had done to the Commander - only now I didn't want to recklessly rip apart this world that had destroyed me. I didn't want to kill this male who felt like hope when there had been none for so long. I didn't want to extinguish the life and joy his eyes promised me before I even got the chance to know him.

The refrain bent and groaned within my iron grip and a scream shattered my bones as it ripped its way out of me. I shoved the music back down, drowned myself in the ocean of my power and collapsed into the mud and gore as my blood turned to fire and smoke poured from my lips.

“Release it!” A voice I didn't recognize shouted as hands clasped my shoulders and my head snapped up to see amber eyes so close to mine. For a moment, I felt like I was walking across the surface of the sun. Like a solar flare had wrapped around my body and ran fingers through my hair. I felt like I was adrift in a sea of warmth and care, where nothing could hurt me and music flowed like a promise. But the hands that gripped me squeezed and shook and a baritone breeze danced down my spine, “Release the magic, or it will kill you!”

And wouldn't that be fine? To die among the dirt and the chaos of a war I tried to stop? My mind flashed to a dark, deathless room and a power that prowled along its edges, as if deciding who it would strike. I'd just watched two women be thrown into the Cauldron like lambs slaughtered in sacrifice. I'd watched from my place at my sister's feet, bound and gagged as the Spring Lord was across the room, tears streaming down my face as I saw my failure unfold before me. I had tried to stop this, tried to get my sister to see reason, and when that failed I had tried to take her crown and put an end to it myself. But she discovered my treachery, she put me in irons and dragged me here, saying I'd understand once we were made Fae. Once we became young and beautiful forever I would be grateful for all that she did to get us here…

The Cauldron's waters felt like ice in my veins. Like the cold of a winter that would never end crystallized along my bones and ripped my mind to shreds as it screamed in agony. Something had been taken from it. So it took something from me in return.

My mind, once a steel trap of facts and knowledge, fractured like light through a prism. A kaleidoscope of color and emotions that crashed against itself from one moment to the next, it never settled long enough to take in the picture - to understand the thought - and words became weapons pointing in. Sentences were a blade against my throat and my broken brain couldn't comprehend why they couldn't understand. Why did they look at me like what I was saying didn't make sense?

It wasn't until the first Queen emerged as a withered old crone that they realized something was wrong, that the Cauldron was taking more than it was giving and that I was not whole where I lay curled into myself on the floor. The Prythian Fae had long since fled, and Hybern had no answers for my sister who demanded them. I watched her and the other Queens gather to leave - she did not reach for me, and in that moment my rage erupted around us.

The stone beneath me cleaved in two and the wind that whipped through the room stole the air from their lungs. Lightning crackled at my fingertips and through the water soaking into the floor; no one dared to come closer to try and stop me. I would have torn the castle down around us. I would have buried myself and every monster I saw so deep into the earth that there would have been no chance of anyone surviving.

But that clever King would not go quietly into the night. He waved his hands in front of his body, and I watched as he plucked magic from the rock and wind and the dark places around us. I saw the melody he composed unfurl around me, a noose at my neck, until my fury evaporated like smoke in the wind and I shattered once again as the blackness consumed me. When I woke, I was in a cell with a Commander watching me from beyond the bars and that was when I learned what the ‘hell on earth’ truly meant.

And now here I was, so many months or years or weeks later, dying as the magic I'd spent all that time gathering to me burned me from the inside out. I refused to unleash it, so it turned that destructive force inward. I could feel it as, cell by cell, piece by piece, I died in this male's arms. He looked so… panicked, so fearful of something- I didn't know what, but he pulled my small body against his as if he hoped to warm my chilled skin. As if he believed he could squeeze life back into me now that the sun was setting on my final day.

It was so silly - and he was disrupting the song. The grand, final ballad was reaching its crescendo and I didn’t want to miss one note of it. This last perfect song played along his skin, it danced through his hair and whispered in his eyes. I heard it now, the chords I'd been looking for all my life… It wasn't a melody at all but a soul that matched my own. This male, whose name I did not know, belonged to me and I would destroy myself before I let any more harm befall him.

“You are mine,” he whispered against my cheek. “Do not leave me when I've only just found you. Let it go.”

Something like a whimper shuddered through my body and hot liquid dripped from my lips. I can't, I wanted to tell him. I can't control it, it will kill you- I can't… But my words were trapped as they had been since my mind fractured apart that day in Hybern. I felt them on the tip of my tongue, but my mouth would not do as I wished. I screamed into the wind as smoke billowed out of me.

“Thesan!” my male made of sunbeams, shouted into the chaos. Tears like diamonds streamed down his cheek as he frantically searched the killing field. “Kallias! Help!”

“Helion?” Someone I couldn't see spoke and my body twitched as lightning sparked in my veins. “Who-”

“She's burning up- the magic- she won’t release it,” he spoke quickly, sharply. Every word was a blade turned into a bird that flew into the wide open eternity. I watched them land on a fae male carved from ice, his blue eyes like stars. He knelt beside us in the mud, cold finger clasping around my ankle as his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Let me see her,” another voice, a voice like the first rays of dawn, approached and I was shifted until my head rested in my male's lap and my body was accessible to these strangers. I might have begun to struggle then. My feet kicked and my nails scratched until he took my head in his hands and he leaned closer to place his lips to my temple.

“Be still my Wild Heart,” he whispered to me. “They only want to help.”

They can't help, I wanted to scream even as my body obeyed the dominance in his tone. I will die. No one can change that. The sun was setting for the last time, and all I wanted was to watch it vanish in his eyes.

A noise like a murmur hissed through my lips and two new songs joined the chores. The first was a melody of ice, inching its way across my skin and seeping into my bones. It was light and airy, like the chiming of bells on a clear winter's day. The second was deep, the drumming of magic through all living things. The rhythm of a healthy heart and a spirit unbroken.

“If she doesn't release her power then the magic will boil her alive,” the male of the dawn grimaced, his hands glowing like tiny suns as they passed over my bruised and broken form. “We can only maintain this for so long before our magic is depleted-”

“You must let it go, Little Light,” he ordered me as he sat up so his perfect face above me was all I could see. “The magic will kill you-”

No, I thought, fighting against the instincts to listen- to obey. The new fae part of me that bowed to power beyond my own wrestled with my human soul and a snarl came out in response. Two wolves rolled through the trees behind my eyes. One was made of light and life and the other of shadow and doubt, and they ripped and clawed and bit each other until they both lay in pieces around me.

“She can’t control it.” A voice like the darkest part of the night enveloped us and I felt star kissed talons glide across my mind. Instinctively, the storm of magic in my bones shifted to wrap around my psyche and force the intruder out into the sky. Like a stone returned to the child who'd thrown it. “She can't speak. The magic will destroy everything in its path and she doesn't want to hurt you, Helion.”

My male's eyes shot to mine, understanding blooming in these amber depths like a rose unfurling in the light. He lifted me so that I was sitting in the mud across from him, knee to knee and soul to soul. “I can control it,” he whispered, a dagger appearing in one hand before he sliced a fresh wound across his palm and reached for me. “You let it go, and I will make sure it doesn't hurt an innocent soul.” My gaze narrowed on the rubies dripping down his arm and I almost didn't notice as he cut a matching line into my hand before pressing our wounds together.

The sun erupted as the storm burst out of me and there was only us. Me and him and the song of our souls colliding in the daylight.

Butterflies of light danced at the edges of my vision as I sat before him. Our hands clasped together, the magic passed through our bodies and the rain fell in a deluge that soaked us to the bone. I pressed my brow to his, inhaling his scent of sandalwood and dragon's blood. I let him cloud my senses, absorb my thoughts, as he pressed his free hand to my face. His thumb stroked my cheek and I felt a smile like a warning bell pull at the corners of my lips.

And I saw us, saw us sitting atop golden thrones, books and scrolls passed like secrets while he held my hand in his.

I blinked and we were lying in bed amongst the clouds, limbs tangled beneath the sheets and bliss reflected in our faces.

I blinked again. My male was sitting at a desk, his chair turned to the side so his hands could roam my pregnant belly as I stood beside him and smiled.

Images of a life, a promise of eternity, played out before my eyes and all the while the melody of us swelled in my ears. I could hear the inevitable end, fast approaching even as the magic was siphoned out of me and my body was healed.

The sun was still setting.

The beginning was the end.

Fate had already been written.

And I knew it wasn't fair, but I knew that what was broken inside of me was too much for anyone to have to bear. It could never be undone, I would never be whole as I appeared in those visions of the future, and I would always be a burden to this male made of magic and sunshine. My wings were stuck - clipped before I'd ever had the chance to fly.

It was not for myself that I reached for the knife he'd discarded in the dirt beside us. It was for him, to free him from my shattered melody so that he would never know hardship at my hands. Music sang between our souls, but even that could not overcome all that lay between us.

Fast as lightning, I turned the dagger to my own heart - only for the Lord of Night to grasp my wrist and twist until I let go of the blade. A hiss of outrage slipped from my throat as I flashed my teeth at the male. “Let the fire fly away,” I snarled and his expression softened. I growled with frustration.

Words! They were just words and yet my tongue was a foreign entity in my mouth. A stranger that refused to translate and my mind was a cage around me. A collection of colors with no discernable pattern and the rain slowed until it stopped.

I closed my eyes as the flames in my lungs turned to flowers blooming up my throat and I choked on the petals. My male cupped my face in his hands as words drifted out of me like dandelion fluff and I wondered if he could see them fly away like clouds of wishes into the summer sky.

He looked at me like I was a miracle.

I looked at him as if I were already dead.

“They threw her in the Cauldron after Nesta,” the Night Lord murmured, snatching his hand back as I reached for the dagger once more. “It broke her mind like it took the Queen's youth and beauty.”

“Gems dance in the light,” I growled, lunging for a nearby sword only for my male to wrap his body around me, pinning my arms to my sides.

“What was broken can be healed,” He whispered fiercely into my ear and the song between us thrummed in answer. “And if not healed, then accommodated. You are mine, body, soul, and fractured mind. So be mine, my Wild Heart.”

“Wild Heart,” I answered, my voice as soft as a diminuendo and I closed my eyes to listen. The war was ending, the songs were changing. And this male in my arms was a sunrise of possibility that I reached for in the dark. A thread of gold that guided me towards the light - that I followed through the fire and shadows until I emerged, reforged into something new, something to behold.

Wild Heart, he called me - and it felt like the name of a young god pulling me out of hell and into the light of day.

A human soul, a shattered mind, locked within a fae body - but these things did not feel like a weight around my heart while I was cocooned within his arms. It felt like strength, like the promise of another sunrise and another sunset and an eternity to learn how to unclip my wings. It did not feel like the end - the tapestry could still be altered, our fates were not yet sealed.

We were a beautiful story, waiting to be told.

And this…

This was only the beginning.

[formulapookie]

🎀💕

under the cut to read

blowjob brothers bez/edo, 3.6k words (smut)

He doesn’t even know how many drinks he’s had, but who cares? 

Everyone’s so far gone no one will judge him for being wasted at this party.

There's music so loud he’s glad they rented a house far from pretty much everything else, because if they ever did this in one of their homes they’d already have been sued and reported to the police for disturbance.

Bez has thrown himself in the pool like four times already, Edo downed something like ten shots in a competition with the other DJ, and he had taken picture of every fucking thing which happened during the party.

“Aleeeeee” Bez calls for him, laughing like an idiot, wet from the pool he just came out of.

“Ale Ale bro”  “Yeah?” “Imma - Imma get Edo jealous y’know?” “Why? He’s not doing anything” “Exactly! Should be doing me” “Bez you two have sex every moment of the day, it’s not a tragedy this one eh” “It is because I want him to -” “Yeah no I’m not listening” “Oh come on as if you didn’t enjoy when you joined us”

And Ale has to stop talking for a sec because yeah, he can’t deny he enjoyed it more than just a little.

And it’s not new for the two of them to be close and affectionate, but right now Bez is basically wrapping himself sorta koala-style on him, and Edo is watching.

As is staring a hole through him smelling like jealousy and possessiveness.

Because yeah, the three of them did have sex together a few times, but it was something coming from all of them and certainly Bez didn’t act like this, ignoring his boyfriend and latching only onto Ale.

And Edo tends to be somewhat territorial when it comes to Bez, because it’s not a secret more than just one guy or girl wants to spend their night with him, and even if he’s ok with threesomes he also wants to have his boyfriend for himself.

“Bez come on Edo is staring, you gotta get away” “Nah” “Bez. I don’t want to die because you’re horny” “Edo is not gonna do anything”

Meanwhile Edo is very much doing something, which is rapidly ditching the convo he’s stuck in to come get his boyfriend who’s decided that apparently Ale is the entertainment for the night instead of him.

“May I have my boyfriend back or do you think you want to keep him?” “I told him to go to you! He’s - he’s just not listening” “Go back to your conversation with that guy Edo, keep ignoring me” “Bez it’s a guy from RR, we gotta talk about the merch” “Ah ha, yeah go back there keep ignoring your boyfriend” “Bez.”

He doesn’t answer, just keeps ignoring Edo and hugging Ale, who honestly has had enough of these two since they met half a year ago.

Knowing that before Edo Bez hadn't even fully realized he was bi is crazy to think.

Even because he had the most obvious crush on Pecco since they were teens.

He remembers when Bez finally got his sexuality and had come to him in a rush.

“Ale Ale Ale I gotta tell you something”

He was dragged away from the conversation he wa having into an alley of the paddock

“Ok calm down Bez you seem crazy” “Yeah I - do you know Edo? ok the DJ?” “Yes Bez I know him he’s my friend”

Bez took a deep breath and looked around

“Ok. He’s - he’s bisexual right?” “Yeah, why?” “I - fuck I think - I think I like him”

Oh. So all it took for Bez to get it was a morally dubious Dj and tattooer.

“You finally realized you like dick?” “I - HOW COULD I HAVE KNOWN I NEVER LIKED ANY GUY” “Pecco.” “What does Pecco has to do with anything” “Bez you had a crush on him since forever” “No I didn’t!”

Ale had looked at him as if he was the dumbest person in the universe, which in that moment he probably was.

“Bez. Bro. You looked at him in a way you didn’t even look at Anne Hathaway” “I did not” “Yeah” “But that’s not the point Ale, the point is I like Edo I think I like want to ask him out”  “Ask him then” “And if he doesn’t like me? If he rejects me? If he already has someone?”

Bez was gonna get him bald by his thirties.

“He likes you, he won’t reject you and he’s single now” “Are you sure Ale?”

He let out a huff and tried to get back to his unfinished conversation, reassuring Bez with a nod.

“yes Bez trust me, go for it”

And oh God had he gone for it.

That night at the party Bez was constantly talking to Edo, following him around and trying to steal all his attention for himself.

Finally Edo had put a stop to the almost embarrassing flirting act from Bez and had kissed him, Ale never asked what or where the two did or went afterwards.

“Bez come on let me go Edo is here”

Bez listens, for once, and turns around, looking Edo up and down, a half pout on his face.

Edo is not better, sunglasses resting on top of his head and a cap with the number 72 hung on his belt loop, looking at Bez the exact same way.

“Does your friend still want all your attention or can I steal you back?” “Bez I swear it looks like I never stay with you” “Stay with me just a bit more” “Bez it’s work I-” “I can suck you off in the kitchen if you stay”

And Edo is just a man, and if his boyfriend is offering him head in a not so private area of the house they’re hosting a party in as a corruption method he just can’t refuse.

Edo bites his lip before grabbing Bez by the shirt and pulling him in for a kiss, hands everywhere and tongues messily overused in the kiss, Ale finally freed from the situation snaps a picture, uploading it onto his private account

“Mi fate battere forte il cuore”

Their friends all know, mostly because it’s disgustingly inevitable not to walk in on them making out or having a quickie somewhere.

Poor Cele had found them jerking each other off in the VR46 Garage one night post race, and it took him more than just a few days to forget it.

“You want to go inside?” “Please” “You really want to suck my dick eh?”

Bez just smiles at it, palming Edo through his jeans and pressing a kiss on his collarbone.

They go inside, and as soon as they’re in the kitchen they’re all over each other in a split second, Bez tugging at Edo’s pants hinting at him to remove them.

“Come onnn get them off” “You were all shy not even six months ago and now look at you” “Stop making fun of me” “But it’s true Marco, had to teach you how to suck me off properly and now you just seem to have been doing this forever”

Bez rolls his eyes and finally unzips his boyfriend’s pants, pooling them at his ankles and getting on his knees.

“Good boy”

The rider has to restrain a moan after getting called that, biting his lip and tugging down Edo’s boxers too, stroking his dick as soon as it’s freed from them.

Edo loves getting his hands in Bez’s hair, they’re so soft and curly and he can manhandle the boy however he wants.

He angles him so that he’s looking a bit to the ceiling, then guides his head towards his dick, making him swallow it almost entirely.

“Ah fuck Marco I love this”

if this is referring to the blowjob, the relationship or the fact they’re currently in public Bez doesn’t know, but it’s a good thing Edo loves it.

Bez starts bobbing his head while Edo’s hands stay in his hair, tugging occasionally when Bez swallows a bit more than usual, gagging around his dick, a few drops of saliva coming out his mouth.

“So pretty Marco so pretty, imagine if someone came in and found you kneeling for me”

Edo smiles again, his free hand going to grip at the counter to stabilize himself, Bez might not be an expert in giving head but he’s a quick learner for sure and his eagerness makes up for the lack of experience.

The gagging sound quickly becomes the only thing the two of them can hear, music from outside long forgotten and archived as background noise, the only other thing Bez can get himself to listen to are Edo’s increasingly louder moans as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

“Can I fuck you? After this?”

Bez nods, for how much he can while sucking his dick, and swallows even more of the length, feeling Edo tightening the grip on his hair.

“Thought so, you’re hard just by sucking me off”

Bez moans at that, he’s been trying to not touch himself while giving his boyfriend head but it’s complicated, he needs to get off as well, and can’t exactly wait too much before doing it, so he imposes himself to make Edo finish as quick as possible so he can get fucked properly.

“Mh fuck careful with teeth Marco, there’s no rush”

Bez looks up at him, need and lust written all over his face, and Edo notices, smiling at him once again.

“Oh you are in a rush then? Want me to fuck you now?”

Bez quickens his movements, steadying himself with his hands wrapped around each of Edo’s thighs, never breaking eye contact with him.

He can feel Edo is close, and he needs so much for this to be over so he can drag him to the first available bedroom in the house and get railed.

“Marco ‘m close fuck you’re good at this”

he sucks harder than before, ripping out a deeper moan from Edo, and lets him cum down his throat.

He stays there for a few seconds before letting go of his dick, looking up at him and getting back up from the floor, kissing him once again.

Edo puts back on his briefs and jeans, without breaking away from the kiss.

“You always come so quick when I suck you off in public places, like when we went to the event in Bali, you like the risk of getting caught”

“You enjoy it too, don't act so innocent, mh? Now, do you want to find a bedroom or-”

Bez grabs him by the hand and drags him upstairs, they’re both laughing a bit, they feel like teenagers sneaking off at a party, which, yeah they’re doing, but somehow it feels hilarious.

“This one”

The room is not bad, a queen sized bed next to a window and some furniture, but it’s not like they’re admiring the drawers and closets right now, and Edo makes quick work of getting Bez on the bed with his back against the mattress and his legs wrapped around him.

He’s caging Bez’s head between his hands, smiling down at him as he licks his lips, and then he rolls his hips to get some friction out of the situation, making them both moan, Edo can feel himself starting to get hard again.

“Kiss me”

Bez basically has stars in his eyes everytime they are this close, and Edo absolutely loves it, he’s so beautiful when he’s like this.

He lowers himself so he can kiss his boyfriend, and one of his hands goes to unzip his pants, Bez lifts his hips and he tugs the pants down, cupping him through the boxers.

At it Bez moans once again, he’s painfully hard and needs his boyfriend inside him like right now.

Edo moves and starts kissing at his neck, eventually leaving a dark hickey on its side, then biting at it lightly.

He knows Bez is a slut for this, and one second later he’s moaning and whining under him, bucking his hips and getting a bit of pleasure from Edo’s hand cupping him.

He sounds so good right now, small whimpers leaving his mouth at the sensation of Edo’s lips on his neck.

“Come on Edo please, fuck me” “I need to prep you, can’t go like this”

Bez says something under his breath, and the older stops kissing him to listen better

“What? I didn’t hear you” “I said I already did it myself I’m ready”

Edo breaks away for a second from his neck to look at him, he truly is amazing.

“Fuck ok I love you”

He goes back to kissing and marking his neck, the wet spot on the front of Bez’s boxers growing larger and larger, it’s amazing how just a few kisses can get him like this, pliant and absolutely hooked up on need.

A few minutes later he gets rid of his boxers as well, undressing himself completely, and Bez admires him biting his lip.

But when he goes to take off his shirt Edo stops him, grabbing him by the wrist.

“What?” “Keep it on you’re hot like that, and it’s mine, I want to fuck you with that on” “Ok but just please do something” “Oh of course, I wouldn't want my little prince to get sad now would I?”

He’s fully hard again now, and Bez is so fucking hot he fears he could cum as soon as he pushes his dick inside him.

He kisses Bez again, cupping his face with one hand and using the other to help himself push inside Bez’s hole, swallowing the moan coming from him.

“You good? Can I move now?” “Yes yes yes you can”

Edo pushes inside all the way, hips touching for a second before he starts thrusting and fucking Bez with a fast pace, still kissing him to quieten the moans down.

Bez gets his arms around Edo, digging his nails in his back, continuously moaning in his mouth.

“More Edo more please”

The first few times they had sex Bez had tried to restrain himself a bit, not to seem too eager or needy.

He had tried to not make it obvious he liked to be praised a lot, that he liked when he got his hair pulled or his neck kissed, that he wanted Edo to shut him up with a kiss when he got too loud or that he liked being spoiled and leaving the work to the others.

He gave up the act the one time Edo had kissed his neck a bit too much and Bez had come from a handjob and that, embarrassingly quickly, but Edo had just found that hot.

And he had learnt that by “more” Bez means “deeper and harsher” as in fuck me deeper and pull my hair and leave hickeys all over my body.

And that’s exactly what he wants to do now.

Starting with the hickeys, his neck is already pretty full, but a few retouches won’t hurt anyone.

So he just sucks a few more marks on his neck, making him whimper as he thrusts deeper into him, then he debates whether or not to take off Bez’s shirt to get to work on his nipples.

The answer is yes, if the neck gets him like that nipples get him worse

“Pretty, so so pretty for me Marco” “Fuck” “Arms up, good”

He takes off Bez’s shirt with no problems, noticing the chill on his skin once it gets removed.

Edo goes to bite and suck at his right nipple, teasing him about how fucked out he already looks, the pace still the same.

It’s barely a matter of seconds before Bez’s hand is in his boyfriend's hair tugging at them because it already feels like too much.

“Edo please stop teasing” “Ah but you look and sound so pretty when I do”

 AS if it was a spell Bez moans again, louder, and moves his hand to touch himself, but Edo is quicker and pins it on the mattress, letting go of his nipple.

“Don’t touch” “No come on please” “You tried to get me jealous before, that's not something I should reward you for now is it?” “Please”

“Next time you’ll learn not to piss me off mh? Should thank me I’m fucking you at all after what you pulled out there”

Bez groans and tries to buck his hips up to get some friction, but that only causes Edo to stop thrusting into him, and fuck no that’s worse.

“You stay put and I fuck you until you cum ok?” “Fuck you” “That’s not an answer” “Ok I will” “Good”

Edo smiles, leaving a soft pec on his lips before resuming the pace, going a bit deeper this time, Bez clenching around him.

It’s a mess of moans and heat and lust, none of the two wants this to be over.

When Edo gets his mouth on Bez’s pierced nipple it’s game over for the younger.

He already is hypersensitive there, but with the tattoo and the piercing it’s all multiplied, he probably could come just by Edo playing with him like that.

“You get so tight when I tease you here it’s crazy” “you - fuck - more please” “More? You sure you can handle it?” “I’m not made of glass” “As you wish”

He picks up the pace once again, feeling Bez getting closer and moaning louder, like he’s in fucking heat, and it makes his mind explode.

Bez is too perfect for his own good, he’s caught god knows how many people staring at him, commenting on him, his body, his godforsaken hands.

He has got those long slim fingers he absolutely loves, the small tattoo of a “12” on his ring finger.

All the other tattoos on his arms and the ones Edo did himself.

It was hot tattooing him, he wasn’t the first nor the last to get hard while getting a tattoo, but he was for sure the hottest.

Bez feels like he’s about to die, he needs to touch himself, needs to get his release, needs Edo to kiss him and make him cry from how good this is.

With a deeper thrusts Edo finally cums inside him, moaning in Bez’s ear and teasing his dick with his free hand.

“Please please let me cum Edo please” “Promise not to get me jealous anymore” “Yeah fuck I promise I swear just let me cum” “Just because you’re pretty”

All it takes is a few strokes to his dick and Bez is moaning again and painting his abs and chest white, shaking under Edo and reaching out for him to kiss him.

Their lips meet and it’s sweet now, even with the smell of sex in the room.

Edo pulls out and rolls on the bed to be next to Bez, hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

“Can’t believe I get to have you Marco, you’re so perfect” “Stop” “No you’re cute when you blush like this”

They both laugh, Bez feels once again like a teenager with his first love.

And it kinda is like that, Edo is the first guy he’s ever done something with, the one who actually made him realize he liked guys too, so it kinda is like a teenager discovering love.

Bez’s phone starts ringing, ad he ignores it, who the fuck is calling at 3am on a Saturday?

But it rings again, then Edo’s as well. This must be important.

Bez picks up the phone and he hears his PR manager shouting, he’s too tired to properly understand, just the words “photos” and “public” make it to his brain.

“Ari slow down I don’t understand anything lower your voice” “Bezzecchi I fucking swear I’m gonna KILL YOU if you don’t get your ass here in one hour! Your friend posted a picture of you and your boyfriend making out AND IT GOT PUBLIC. If I get fired because you can’t keep it in your pants I’m gonna cut it off you get me?”

He sits up on the bed, swearing and feeling dizzy.

“Ale posted the picture on the wrong account Marco”

“Yeah I fucking know! They called me and told me I gotta go to the head quarters fucking hell people saw it Edo people saw it and it’s going around”

They climb down the stairs, got dressed in a rush, clothes half creased and still smelling like sex.

“Guys guys I’m sorry I thought it was the private profile I swear sorry I didn't mean to” “No it’s - it’s ok they’re already beginning to handle it but I gotta go” “I’m gonna kill myself” “You don’t do that, thank you very much” “I stay here, you go”

Bez looks at both of them, then fixes his gaze on Edo.

“No, come with me” “Marco” “Please, if they tell me - I don’t know what they’ll tell me, I need someone with me” “Are you sure?” “Yes. Yes I want you there” “Maybe it’s better I don’t come, you can say I kissed you but you don’t like guys and -”

“Edo I don’t give a fuck if people call me slurs after seeing that picture, they already tell me all kind of shit, I won’t get depressed if they know I like guys”

He’s debating internally, of course he wants to be close to his boyfriend, but he’s scared for his future as a rider if this becomes a public relationship.

“Please don’t leave me alone”

They look into each other's eyes and Edo nods, following him to the car and climbing in the passenger seat.

“I’m sorry” “Don’t be sorry Edo we didn’t do anything wrong”

And he knows, he knows they didn’t but Bez is not just a someone, he’s an athlete, public figure, and everyone knows it’s really fucking difficult to be public with your sexuality in a sport, especially sports like these.

But Bez is Bez, they’ll find a solution, this is not the end of the world, they’ll play it off as a stupid dare or something similar, they’ll get the pic off Instagram in a few days and it’ll be ok.

He knows it’ll be when he looks over to Bez and he looks back at him for a moment before getting his eyes back on the road, moving a hand to rest on his thigh, not sexual, just reassuring.

Yeah it’s gonna be ok for them.

[andyling]

THEN WHAT SANEMI THEN WHAT

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF TANJIRO DIDN'T INTERFERE WITH YOUR FIGHT HUH TELL ME

[missingn000]

hey all! i wrote a what-if character study & action fic for if king fought sanji instead of zoro during the raid on onigashima. i'd really love if you gave it a read! thanks so much!

link

playlist

happy reading!

[insanesonofabitch]

Today I learned that deancasbenny is sometimes called destiny and God. I’ve never seen such a name for a ship that’s equally poetic as it is ironic. I would’ve called it poetic irony but that would wrongfully imply that they’re given what they deserved. It’s hauntingly beautiful.

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Spider-Man India, but... where from India?

A SUPER long post featuring talks of: cultural identity, characterisation, the caste system, and what makes Spider-Man Spider-Man.

I’m prefacing this by saying that I am a second-generation immigrant. I was born in Australia, but my cultural background is from South India. My experiences with what it means to be “Indian” is going to be very different from the experiences of those who are born and brought up in India.

If you, reader, want to add anything, please reblog and add your thoughts. This is meant to be a post open for discussion — the more interaction we get, the better we become aware of these nuances.

So I made this poll asking folks to pick a region of India where I would draw Pavitr Prabhakar in their cultural wear. This idea had been on my mind for a long while now, as I had been inspired by Annie Hazarika’s Northeastern Spidey artwork in the wake of ATSV’s release, but never got the time to actually do it until now. I wanted to get a little interactive and made the poll so I could have people choose which of the different regions — North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South — to do first.

The outcome was not what I expected. As you can see, out of 83 votes:

THE RESULTS

South India takes up almost half of all votes (44.6%), followed by Northeast and Central (both 14.5%) and then East (13.3%). In all my life growing up, support towards or even just the awareness of South India was pretty low. Despite this being a very contained poll, why would nearly half of all voters pick South India in favour of other popular choices like Central or North India?

Then I thought about the layout of the poll: Title, Options, Context.

Title: "Tell us who you want to see…"

Options: North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South

Context: I want to make art of the boy again

At first I thought: ah geez. this is my fault. I didn't make the poll clear enough. do they think I want them to figure out where Pavitr came from? That's not what I wanted, maybe I should have added the context before the options.

Then I thought: ah geez. is it my fault for people not reading the entire damn thing before clicking a button? That's pretty stupid.

But regardless, the thought did prompt a line of thinking I know many of us desi folk have been considering since Spider-Man India was first conceived — or, at least, since the announcement that he was going to appear in ATSV. Hell, even I thought of it:

Where did Spider-Man India come from?

FROM A CULTURALLY DIVERSE INDIA

As we know, India is so culturally diverse, and no doubt ATSV creators had to take that into account. Because the ORIGINAL Spider-Man India came from Mumbai — most likely because Mumbai and Manhattan both started with the same letter.

But going beyond that, it’s also because Mumbai is one of the most recognisable cities in India - it’s also known as Bombay. It’s where Bollywood films are shot. It’s where superstar Hindi actors and actresses show up. Mumbai is synonymous with India in that regard, because the easiest way Western countries can interact with Indian culture is through BOLLYWOOD, through HINDI FILMS, through MUMBAI. Suddenly, India is Mumbai, India is a Hindi-only country, India is just this isolated thing we see through an infinitely narrow lens.

We’ve gotten a little better in recent years, but boy I will tell you how uncomfortable I’ve gotten when people (yes, even desi people) come up to me and tell me, Oh, you’re Indian right? Can you speak Hindi? Why don’t you speak Hindi? You’re not Indian if you don’t speak Hindi, that’s India’s national language!

I have been — still am — so afraid of telling people that I don’t speak Hindi, that I’m Tamil, that I don’t care that Hindi is India’s “national” language (it’s an administrative language, Kavin, get your fucking facts right). It’s weird, it’s isolating, and it has made me feel like I wasn’t “Indian” enough to be accepted into the group of “Indian” people.

So I am thankful that ATSV went out of their way to integrate as much variety of Indian culture into the Mumbattan sequence. Maybe that way, the younger generation of desi folk won’t feel so isolated, and that younger Western people will be more open to learning about all these cultural differences within such a vast country.

BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH SPIDER-MAN INDIA?

Everything, actually. There’s a thing called supremacy. You might have heard of it. We all engaged with it at some point, and if you are Indian, no matter where you live, it is inescapable.

It happens the moment you are born — who your family is, where you are born, the language you speak, the colour of your skin; these will be bound to you for life, and it is nigh impossible to break down the stereotypes associated with them.

Certain ethnic groups will be more favourable than others (Centrals, and thus their cultures, will always be favoured over than Souths, as an example) and the same can be said for social groups (Brahmins are more likely to secure influential roles in politics or other areas like priesthood, while the lowers castes, especially Dalits, aren’t even given the decency of respect). Don’t even get me started on colourism, where obviously those of fairer skin will win the lottery while those of darker skin aren’t given the time of day. It’s even worse when morality ties into it — “lighter skinned Indians, like Brahmins, embody good qualities like justice and wisdom”, “dark skinned Indians are cunning and poor, they are untrustworthy”. It’s fucking nuts.

This means, of course, you have a billion people trying to make themselves heard in a system that tries to crush everyone who is not privileged. It only makes sense that people want to elevate themselves and break free from a society that refuses to acknowledge them. These frustrations manifest outwardly, like in protests, but other times — most times — it goes unheard, quietly shaping your way of life, your way of thinking. It becomes a fundamental part of you, and it can go unacknowledged for generations.

So when you have a character like Pavitr Prabhakar enter the scene, people immediately latch onto him and start asking questions many Western audiences don’t even consider. Who is he? What food does he eat? What does he do on Fridays? What’s his family like, his community? All these questions pop up, because, amidst all this turmoil going on in the background, you want a mainstream popular character to be like you, who knows your way of life so intimately, that he may as well be a part of your community.

BUT THAT'S THE THING — HE'S FICTIONAL

I am guilty of this. In fact, I’ve flaunted in numerous posts how I think he’s the perfect Tamil boy, how he dances bharatanatyam, how he does all these Tamil things that no one will understand except myself. All these niche things that only I, and maybe a few others, will understand.

I’ve seen other people do it, too. I’ve seen people geek out over his dark brown skin, his kalari dhoti, how he fights so effortlessly in the kalaripayattu martial arts style. I’ve seen people write him as Malayali, as Hindi, as every kind of Indian person imaginable.

I’ve also seen him be written where he’s subjected to typical Indian and broader Asian stereotypes. You know the ones I’m so fond of calling out. The thing is, I’ve seen so much of Pavitr being presented in so many different ways, and I worry how the rest of the desi folk will take it. 

You finally have a character who could be you, but now he’s someone else’s plaything. Your entire life is shaped by what you can and can’t do simply because you were born to an Indian family, and here’s the one person who could represent you now at the mercy of someone else’s whims. He’s off living a life that is so distant from yours, you can hardly recognise him.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, yeah? But, again, you’re looking at it from that infinitely narrow lens Westerners use to look at India from Bollywood.

AND PAVITR PRABHAKAR DOESN'T LIVE IN INDIA

He lives in Mumbattan. He lives in a made-up, fictional world that doesn’t follow the way of life of our world. He lives in a city where Mumbai and Manhattan got fucking squashed together. There are so many memes about colonialism right there. Mumbattan isn’t real! Spider-Man India isn’t real!! He’s just a dude!! The logic of our world doesn’t apply to him!!!

“But his surname originates from ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he’s wearing a kalari dhoti so surely he’s ______” okay but does that matter?

“But his skin colour is darker so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he lives in Mumbai so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

I sound insensitive and brash and annoying and it looks like I’m yapping just for the sake of riling you up, so direct that little burst of anger you got there at me, and keep reading.

Listen. I’m going to ask you a question that I’ve asked myself a million times over. I want you to answer honestly. I want you to ask this question to yourself and answer honestly:

Are you trying to convince me on who Pavitr Prabhakar should be?

... but why shouldn't i?

I’ll tell you this again — I did the same thing. You’re not at fault for this, but I want you to just...have a little think over. Just a little moment of self-reflection, to think about why you are so intent on boxing this guy.

It took me a while to reorganise my thinking and how to best approach a character like Pavitr, so I will give you all the time you need as well as a little springboard to focus your thoughts on.

SPIDER-MAN (INDIA) IS JUST A MASK

“What I like about the costume is that anybody reading Spider-Man in any part of the world can imagine that they themselves are under the costume. And that’s a good thing.”

Stan Lee said that. Remember how he was so intent on making sure that everybody got the idea that Spider-Man as an entity is fundamentally broken without Peter Parker there to put on the suit and save the day? That ultimately it was the person beneath the mask, no matter who they were, that mattered most?

Spider-Man India is no less different. You can argue with me that Peter Parker!Spidey is supposed to represent working class struggles in the face of leering corporate entities who endanger the regular folk like us, and so Pavitr Prabhakar should also function the same way. Pavitr should also be a working class guy of this specific social standing fighting people of this other social standing.

But that takes away the authenticity of Spider-Man India. Looking at him through the Peter Parker lens forces you to look at him through the Western lens, and it significantly lessens what you can do with the character — suddenly, it’s a fight to be heard, to be seen, to be recognised. It’s yelling over each other that Pavitr Prabhakar is this ethnicity, is that caste, this or that, this or that, this or that.

There’s a reason why he’s called Spider-Man India, infuriatingly vague as it is. And that’s the point — the vagueness of his identity fulfils Lee’s purpose for a character that could theoretically be embodied by anyone. If he had been called “Spider-Man Mumbai”, you cut out a majority of the population (and in capitalist terms, you cut out a good chunk of the market).

And in the case of Spider-Man India? Whew — you’ve got about a billion people imagining a billion different versions of him.

Whoever you are, whatever you see in Pavitr, that is what is personal to you, and there is nothing wrong with that, and I will not fault you for it. I will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from Central due to the origins of his last name. I also will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from South due to him practising kalaripayattu. I also will not fault you for saying he is not Hindu. I also will not fault you for saying he is a particular ethnicity without any proof.

What I will fault you for is trying to convince me and the others around you that Pavitr Prabhakar should be this particular ethnicity/have this cultural background because of some specific reason. I literally don’t care and it is fundamentally going against his character, going against the “anyone can wear the mask” sentiment of Spider-Man. By doing this, you are strengthening the walls that first divided us. You’re feeding the stratification and segmentation of our cultures — something that is actually not present in the fictional world of Mumbattan.

Like I said before: Mumbattan isn’t real, so the divides between ethnicities and cultural backgrounds are practically nonexistent. The best thing is that it is visually there for all to see. My favourite piece of evidence is this:

It’s a marquee for a cinema in the Mumbattan sequence, in the “Quick tour: this is where the traffic is” section. It has four titles; the first two are written in Hindi. The third title is written in Bengali*, and the fourth title is written in Tamil. You go to Mumbai and you won’t see a single shred of Bengali nor Tamil there, much less any other language that's not common in Maharashtra (Western India). Seeing this for the first time, you know what went through my head?

Wow, the numerous cultures of India are so intermingled here in Mumbattan! Everyone and everything is welcome!

I was happy, not just because of Tamil representation, but because of the fact that the plethora of Indian cultures are showcased coexisting in such a short sequence. This is India embracing all the little parts that make up its grander identity. This scene literally opened my eyes seeing such beauty in all the diverse cultures thriving together. In a place where language and cultural backgrounds blend so easily, each one complementing one another.

It is so easy to believe that, from this colourful palette of a setting, Pavitr Prabhakar truly is Spider-Man India, no matter where he comes from.

It’s easy to believe that Pavitr can come from any part of India, and I won’t call you out if the origin you have for him is different from the origin I have. You don’t need to stake out territory and stand your ground — you’re entitled to that opinion, and I respect it. In fact, I encourage it!!!

Because there’s only so much you can show in a ten minute segment of a film about a country that has such a vast history and even greater number of cultures. I want to see all of it — I want him to be a Malayali boy, a Hindi boy, a Bengali boy, a Telugu boy, an Urdu boy, whatever!! I want you to write him or draw him immersed in your culture, so that I can see the beauty of your background, the wonderful little things that make your culture unique and different from mine!

And, as many friends have said, it’s so common for Indian folks to be migrating around within our own country. A person with a Maharashtrian surname might end up living in Punjab, and no one really minds that. I’m actually from Karnataka, my family speaks Kannada, but somewhere down the line my ancestors moved to Tamil Nadu and settled down and lived very fulfilling lives. So I don’t actually have the “pure Tamil” upbringing, contrary to popular belief; I’ve gotten a mix of both Kannada and Tamil lifestyles, and it’s made my life that much richer. 

So it’s common for people to “not” look like their surname, if that’s what you’re really afraid about. In fact, it just adds to that layer of nuance, that even despite these rigid identities between ethnicities we as Indian people still intermingle with one another, bringing slivers of our cultures to share with others. Pavitr could just as well have been born in one state and moved around the country, and he happens to live in Mumbattan now. It’s entirely possible and there’s nothing to disprove that.

We don’t need to clamber over one another declaring that only one ethnicity is the “right” ethnicity, because, again, you will be looking at Pavitr and the rest of India in that narrow Western lens — a country with such rich cultural variety reduced to a homogenous restrictive way of life.

THE POLL: REINTERPRETED

This whole thing started because I was wondering why my little poll was so skewed — I thought people assumed I was asking them where he came from, then paired his physical appearance with the most logical options available. I thought it was my fault, that I had somehow influenced this outcome without knowing.

Truth is, I will never really know. But I will be thankful for it, because it gave me the opportunity to finally broach this topic, something that many of us desi folk are hesitant to talk about. I hope you have learned something from this, whether you are desi or a casual Spider-Man fan or someone who just so happened to stumble upon this. 

So just…be a little more open. Recognise that India, like many many countries and nations, is made up of a plethora of smaller cultures. And remember, if you’re trying to convince Pavitr that he’s a particular ethnicity, he’s going to wave his hand at you and say, “Ha, me? No, I’m one of the people that live here in the best Indian city! I’m Spider-Man India, dost!”

(Regardless, he still considers you a friend, because to him, the people matter more to him than you trying to box him into something he’s not.)

*Note: thank you dear anon for letting me know that the third title was Bengali, twas my mistake for literally completely forgetting

[neonhellscape]

yknow when you gotta jam that stupid little pin in that tiny slot in your phone to get the sim card out. he's doing that

[eddis-not-eeddis]

I am the most hopeful of pessimists