#this is slowly turning into a bookblr

[teapot-studies]

i used to be judgy and shallow abt ugly book covers but since ppl are publishing books with ai art the ugly book covers aint so bad anymore so keep making ART unapolagetically and shamelessly!!!!!! i am proud of you!!!!

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

I posted 709 times in 2022

That's 621 more posts than 2021!

169 posts created (24%)

540 posts reblogged (76%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ambiguouspuzuma

@heroes-villains-side-blog

@selene-stories

@writingonesdreams

@smuwfy-side-blog

I tagged 642 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#writeblr - 297 posts

#author appreciation - 267 posts

#not my writing - 219 posts

#heroes and villains - 182 posts

#hero x villain - 116 posts

#writer appreciation - 104 posts

#my writing - 93 posts

#fire & flight - 78 posts

#b's reading recs - 69 posts

#bookblr - 63 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and also because i'm curious how necromancy and healing powers would work together so...i need a running list of things i intend to write😅

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Love Letters: Part 2

A/N: I did not intend to write more than two parts for this, it’s shaping up to be a short series🤦I may not know where this is going or where we’ll end up, but god am I excited for the ride😆

Warnings: intimidation, implied threats, slight interrogation, gaslighting (idk if this counts as gaslighting, but I’m putting a warning in because it felt kinda gaslighty to me), minor anxiety/fear, stressful situations, the author not knowing this was to become a series

Part 1 | Part 3 |My masterlist

Hero spent the days after the gala laying as low as they possibly could without disappearing altogether. They didn’t know what to make of Supervillain’s…proposition. But they knew one thing: there was no harm in heeding the criminal’s “suggestion” to blend into the shadows for a while. Hero knew they couldn’t disappear altogether, for their absence might draw more attention than if they were to take a step back from crime fighting. A small step, an easy step. Stop a low tier villain here, break up a petty crime there, but nothing more. Above all else though, Hero had to keep a finger on the underground’s pulse. They didn’t know when or if they’d hear from Supervillain again, so their best defense against Other Supervillain was to be as in the know as much as possible.

Their mind was still reeling from the revelation that Politician was Other Supervillain. Hero didn’t know if they could wholly believe it…but it explained a few things. It explained how Politician had gotten the money for their successful campaign, how things they seemed to want to improve suddenly got taken care of even when they hadn’t garnered the support to do anything about it, and how they’d remained in office despite multiple attempts on their life by the city’s more ambitious criminals.

So, Hero had reasoned over and over again, either Politician was a chess master, Other Supervillain benefitted from their mayorship, or the master criminal and controversial figure were one and the same.

Hero bit their lip, turning the puzzle over in their head again. It was possible Supervillain had lied to them — about everything. But why? And why would they be working with Other Supervillain? Was it under duress? Were they playing a long game to take Other Supervillain’s mantle? What was the angle, and how did Hero play into it?

“That’s a wonderful question, darling.”

Hero whirled around. Other Supervillain stood in the shadows of the dimly lit street. Hero went stock still, their blood running cold, as the master criminal approached slowly. With all the ease in the world, Other Supervillain backed them against the abandoned brick building. Hero’s lips quivered as Other Supervillain crowded them, trapping them against the rough brick. Their eyes darted to either side. Crestfallen, Hero realized they’d wandered into the abandoned industrial center of town. The old factory was the pinnacle of the city’s devastation, and by virtue, the beginning of masked crime.

“You’ve gone awfully quiet, Hero,” Other Supervillain said humorlessly. Hero shrank under their gaze, curling into themselves as Other Supervillain leaned in closer. “I didn’t frighten you, did I?”

“M-maybe,” Hero shuddered. Maybe if they hadn’t gotten lost in their speculations, they wouldn’t have strayed so far from the observed streets. Maybe if they had paid more attention to their patrol, they wouldn’t have wound up trapped between a building and the imposing criminal bracketing them in with their arms on either side. Close, crowded, but not touching. There was that at least. That bit of space that teased clarity, and maybe even a dumb sense of safety.

Other Supervillain studied them closely. There wasn’t an ounce of distinguishable emotion on their face. All Hero could do was stare back at them, wide-eyed and with a tight chest.

“You attended my gala the other night. Why?”

“I—”

“Don’t,” Other Supervillain interrupted quietly, “think about lying to me. I’ll know, and I don’t have time to deal with you further. Answer my questions and nothing will happen to you.”

“And I’m supposed to trust that? Trust you?” Hero questioned skeptically.

Other Supervillain’s lips quirked in what might’ve been a wry smile. “When have I ever gone back on my word?”

Hero swallowed. Was there any sense in asking them to clarify what they meant by that? If they were talking about their life of villainy or as a public figure? Besides, Hero didn’t know if Other Supervillain knew what Supervillain had told them at the gala, so maybe they didn’t know that Hero knew who they were — if Supervillain was to be believed that is.

“I was following a lead.” A half-truth, but honest enough that Hero didn’t think it could be considered a lie.

“What kind of lead? I need you to tell me everything, Hero. The harder you make this, the less likely this will end amicably.”

“The stolen artifacts. I received a tip that they might be at the gala, and I went to retrieve them,” Hero hesitated, not certain if that was the answer Other Supervillain was searching for, or if they wanted Hero to trap themselves by allowing them to prattle on under the threat of…well a vague threat of being hurt.

“You’re searching for the artifacts? From the museum?” Other Supervillain asked with what sounded like doubt. Hero’s head spun. Fighting crime was so much easier when they could gauge what was going on in their enemy’s head or their next action, but Other Supervillain gave little indication to help them in any way.

“Yeah,” Hero nodded. “They were worth a lot of money. Could fund…I don’t know, but if a villain stole them and sold them on the black market…”

Other Supervillain pulled back slightly, but didn’t drop their hands from either side of Hero’s shoulders. Hero watched them wearily as the other seemed to study them from head to toe. Their breath coming a little easier now, Hero hoped that was all.

“I didn’t steal them. I’m not a petty thief.”

“I didn’t say you were. That’s why it’s called ‘a lead’, you follow—”

“Hero,” Other Supervillain chastised, “I’m losing my patience. Tell me, why did you dance with Supervillain?”

Hero flinched. “I didn’t know it was them, not until later.”

“What made you realize it was Supervillain?”

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47 notes - Posted April 5, 2022

#4

Love Letters: Finale?

A/N: I’ve loved writing this series and am already planning a spinoff or something because there’re still some things I’d like to explore with these characters. Idk when this is happening, because I have a few prompts lined up, but it’s happening 😊 Also just a head’s up that this is about 3.8k words. Happy reading! Huge thank you to @selene-stories for the amazing prompt that kicked this series off and all of your amazing commentary throughout the series💜

Warnings: Implied torture/past torture, blood reference/blood mention, confusion, healing, injuries, past restraints/reference to having been restrained, implied medical scenario, scars, deserved mental breakdown, angst, some fluff

(This is not a prompt)

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Hero inhaled deeply. Their lungs nearly burst from the full breath. Lashes fluttering under their eyes, Hero was almost reluctant to open them, but knew the action was inevitable. They didn’t want to deny themselves the illusion of warmth and comfort of the bed that surely didn’t exist beneath them in place of the cold, damp basement floor and the rough ropes binding their wrists and ankles. Instead, they slipped further into that dream and burrowed deeper into the soft darkness of their subconscious. In the fraying moment between vague wakefulness and unconsciousness, Hero swore their cheek nestled into a cushy pillow that simply couldn’t exist. Somehow, it felt more like a reality to them than the absent chill of the basement that should’ve plagued them.

A sigh escaped Hero’s slightly parted lips. Slowly blinking their eyes open, Hero’s hands curled limply against—Hero’s brows furrowed. Mind swimming, they turned their head to the side and took in the dim room and the nightstand that met their gaze. Like a flood, their memories rushed to the forefront of their mind.

Other Supervillain had saved them. Other Supervil—Politician had saved them and had apparently killed Supervillain and Superhero…

“Dead, probably.”

What was Superhero’s fate? Were they confirmed alive or dead? Which did Other Supervillain prefer? Which did Hero prefer?

Uncertain and afraid of the answer poking around the edges of their mind, Hero curled up on their side and drew the blankets tighter around themselves, nearly burying themselves in the warm comfort of alleged safety. Other Super—Politician had promised not to hurt them, and waking up in a cloud of blankets and pillows surely indicated the truth in that declaration. Soothed for a time, Hero couldn’t fight the heavy closing of their eyes.

The next time Hero peeled their eyes open, golden sunlight peeked through the miniscule part in the heavy curtains of the bedroom Politician had left them in. They couldn’t note any changes in the room, if Politician or someone had checked in on them or if they’d been left to their unconscious state in blissful solitude this whole time. Some part of Hero argued that they could stay here forever, unbothered and unburdened, but the stronger part of Hero knew that they should get up and see just what their circumstances were.

Groaning, Hero forced themselves onto their elbows and fought to sit up against the headboard. Panting heavily, Hero laid a gentle hand on their abdomen. Their eyes widened. Bringing their frail hand to their face, Hero’s eyes narrowed and examined the dry skin of their wrist, and even their nails for any sign of the blood—their blood—that had spilled.

Not even a scratch remained on their skin. By all means, there was no sign of the rope burn or how the rope had peeled and shredded their skin until Hero had believed there was nothing left but bone to scrape at with every shift of their bonds.

Sagging against the headboard with a twist of their lips, Hero studied their limp hands. They wondered, briefly, what had been real and what they’d imagined. Their broken—or were they only bruised?—ribs were real, a fact echoed by the pull of pain in their torso whenever they moved.

Bringing their hands up, Hero went to scrub at their face, but where they thought they’d feel their own skin was only cloth.

Not just any cloth, though, Hero realized with a quick breath. The cloth was strong, nearly solid, the type of cloth used in supersuits. With trembling hands, Hero gently took the cloth from their face and turned the revealed mask over in their hands.

Why had Other Supervillain put their mask on them?

Admittedly, Hero appreciated that the master criminal had put them in something…less blood-soaked and grimy, but why had they given them their mask?

Hesitantly, Hero moved the blankets down the bed and exposed their lower half. The bruises and lacerations they expected to see were gone—if they’d even existed. The most evidence of their predicament lay in healed scars and reddened knees from being forced to kneel for so long. Aside from that, there were no serious injuries. There was only the memory, or the nightmare, of them.

Their lips twisted as they willed their leaden limbs into motion. Their bare toes awkwardly brushed the plush carpet as if they’d forgotten what it was to bear any weight—and Hero hadn’t even stood up from the bed yet. They didn’t know if such a feat was even possible.

Were their injuries truly that bad that they could only be partially healed? Or had more time passed than they’d initially believed upon waking?

Hero’s hands clenched into fists by their sides, the fabric mask crumpling in their fragile grasp. With one last deep breath, Hero hauled themselves to their feet. Their limbs bowed and Hero curled inward, nearly hunched over with drooping shoulders. Too weak to bear the weight of their body, they leaned against the nightstand to steady themselves. Settling a light hand against their stomach, Hero took a hesitant step forward in the hopes that their limbs would remember how to walk.

By the time they’d made it to the bedroom door, a few beads of sweat dotted their brow. Their breaths came in heavy puffs. It took a few embarrassing tries to get a handle on the doorknob and twist it as their eyes dotted with stars. But Hero managed to get the door open and lean against its frame as if they’d collapse.

Squinting out into the hallway, Hero glanced up and down its length in search of a sign—any sign with any meaning. But the hallway was empty except for the light and a long decorative carpet runner that covered its length.

Hero sighed, exasperated by the choice that lay before them. Was anybody here? Was Politician here?

Glancing down at the mask in their free hand, Hero wondered many things. What had they done to Supervillain? To Superhero? How could they be certain that Supervillain was dead but hesitant to declare the same fate of Superhero?

Hero’s blood ran cold. What had they done with the Ancient Sword?

Pushing away from the door, Hero hobbled down the hallway. Stiff and numb all the same, they kept a hand on the wall to keep them upright. More like, the wall held them up as they could not. Slowly progressing down the hallway, Hero sniffed. And sniffed again. Their mouth began to water, but no matter how much their mind urged them on, their body couldn’t go any faster than this snail’s pace.

The warm spice in the air beckoned them. Nearly dragging their exhausted body down the rest of the hallway, Hero stumbled out into a bright kitchen filled with that savory scent and an oppressive heat that billowed from a steamy pot on the stove.

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55 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

#3

The Lair in the Woods

A/N: I wasn’t really planning on posting anything of mine today, but I’ve had my eye on this amazing prompt by @some-messed-up-writing-for-you for a while now and decided today is the day! Prompt is in blue font!

Warnings: Nearly freezing to death, unedited, medical scenario, HIPPA violation because I think it’s cool if people with healing powers can sense old injuries/illness when examining another person

LMK if I forgot anything!

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | The Lair in the Woods series masterlist

Civilian staggered through the knee-high snow. Clutching their arms tightly around their middle, they tried to hunch their shoulders and tuck their head close enough to their chest to shield their face from the biting wind. It was a useless effort. The snow and howling wind blasted their body until they could hardly keep their eyes open. Trudging through the dense snow for what seemed like an eternity, sweat dripped down Civilian’s spine and collected along their brow. Their breaths were more like wheezes at this point.

They were never going to make it back to their cabin.

Supervillain let out a long sigh, dropping the papers they were studying back on their desk. “Come in.”

“Uh, Boss?” A henchman they hadn’t seen before poked their head into the office, not even daring to step over the threshold of the door. “We…found someone in the woods…during one of our, uh, one of our patrols.”

“And I care because?” Supervillain sat back in their chair, tilting the seat back slightly to stretch their legs out under their desk, and clasped their hands over their stomach.

“Other Henchman believes they’re a civilian and Right Hand can’t identify them, so t-they sent me to tell you.”

Supervillain studied them for a moment, turning all the different scenarios over in their head. It could be a hero. It could very well be a trap, an attempt to infiltrate their lair, but if Right Hand couldn’t identify them…

Their lair was fairly isolated, and in a storm like this, no one in their right mind would be out and about. By all accounts, their base was impenetrable today. Even if someone from one of the few vacation homes scattered across this mountain had lost their way in the woods, they would’ve known better than to go out on a day like today.

“Where are they now?” Supervillain stood from their desk and pulled on their jacket. Their winter fortress had a notorious heating issue in the sense that the hallways were freezing and only the rooms with a roaring fire or space heater were in any sense comfortable.

“In the infirmary with Right Hand.”

“You’re dismissed.”

The lackey bobbed their head and left without another word. Supervillain shook their head, lips pursed as they put on their weapons belt. They wouldn’t last long in Supervillain’s organization if they couldn’t make a report to their superior without shaking in their boots. Perhaps it was only the cold. Maybe they were still pretty new, but either way, Supervillain expected their resignation on their desk sooner rather than later.

With slow, deliberate steps, Supervillain crossed their office and locked the door behind them. They clenched their jaw against the cold air of the hallway that assaulted them as soon as they’d step foot over the threshold. The shock trailed down their spine, making them grateful for the fur-lined collar and thick fabric of their coat.

They had every intention of ransoming whoever it was that had shown up on their doorstep. Unless it was Mentor. They’d be more than happy to rid the world of the likes of them.

Quickly, they wove their way through the converted ski lodge they’d purchased for a bargain until they reached the infirmary, and with it the warmth of a space heater. The infirmary was on the main level of the lair, and therefore in one of the original parts of the old ski lodge. Supervillain doubted any patients would find must peace given how the wind howled right outside the thin windows did nothing to dampen the sound.

Right Hand had their feet kicked up on Medic’s desk, their laptop balanced on their thighs and their brow furrowed in concentration.

“So, who was dumb enough to brave this storm?”

At the sound of their voice, Right Hand glanced away from their screen, their eyes flashing with annoyance but the frown of their lips faded into an amused smirk when they realized it was only them.

They raised their brows. “I’m surprised Henchman didn’t pass out,” Right Hand laughed. “They might just survive in this job.”

Supervillain chuckled, stripping off their jacket and draping it over a spare chair by the doorway.

“As far as our human popsicle goes, I have no clue. There’s nothing on them personally to indicate any kind of association, hero or rival. I’ve checked every record we have on hero IDs and hacked the Union but so far nothing,” they grumbled. Their attention shifted back to their screen. “The Guild has better cybersecurity, so it might take me awhile before I can get into their system and find their personal records.”

Supervillain nodded. “And their condition?”

“Unconscious, but not hypothermic,” Right Hand said. Sighing, they added, “Medic says the patrol found them just in time. We just have to thaw them out and wait for them to wake up.”

“Lucky them.” Supervillain took a step closer to the medical bays, seeking out their prey.

As they approached the last medical bay, Medic swept through the curtains and ensued they were drawn, their focus entirely on the patient chart in their hands.

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59 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

#2

Love Letters (Part 1)

A/N: I had to search high and low for this lovely prompt by @selene-stories because I knew I had it saved in my drafts and it was a MOOD. So glad I found it again because I distinctly remembered the gist of it and needed something more flangsty than angst😅 Prompt and prompt lines (I repeated a line later on) are in blue font!😊

Warnings: betrayal, manhandling, violence, physical assault (in the form of hand-to-hand combat), gunshots/gun references/being shot at, threats, dangerous situations, emotional distress (not necessarily a panic or anxiety attack, but similar emotional state to both)

Part 2 | Part 3 | My masterlist

~ ~ ~

“Dear Hero,”

-the back of the invite read, in beautiful calligraphy; Not a smudge or hint of a trembling hand in sight.

Hero held the paper tighter, not quite sure what it was about it that made their heart flutter and their lips to curl upwards.

“I am delighted to know that you are attending the event. However, it is better to get in with an invitation.”

Hero had trailed their fingers over the letters too many times, even found themself doing it right at this moment. They had frowned the first time they’d read it, but now it brought them an odd sense of excitement.

“With growing fascination,

a potential friend.”

Perhaps attending it wouldn’t do them any harm. They did plan on snatching the artifacts the villains had stolen, anyway, so this way they wouldn’t even have to sneak in.

Besides, they should find out which one of their teammates (or even co-workers?) had left this on their doorstep, shouldn’t they?

Out of sheer curiosity only, their thoughts had lied. Nothing will go wrong, it is just a gift and an invite.

But of course it did, as always it all crashed and burnt, but Hero hadn’t thought it could ever go thisbadly.

“Stop trying to help,” they finally snapped.

But all Supervillain did was beam at them. “But then,” they purred, “what kind of potential friend would I be?~”

There was simply no rock big enough to hide under.

Hero stiffened. Their feet faltered, already weary of the dance they didn’t know but struck completely dumb by Supervillain’s implication. Supervillain tightened their grip around Hero’s hand as their words registered in the shocked mind of the city’s golden savior. Limply, Hero let the master criminal lead them through the steady movements, seemingly undeterred by their sudden stillness and sputtering. “You — what did you just say?”

“I said,” Supervillain started slowly, eyes scanning the crowd of party guests over Hero’s shoulder as they yanked them closer by the waist, “‘what kind of potential friend would I be?~’”

Hero’s veins seemed to strain from how tightly they’d coiled at the non-threatening forcefulness in Supervillain’s voice. This wasn’t at all what they’d expected of the master criminal. And they certainly hadn’t expected them to be the author of the mysterious invitation they’d received for this party. Vigilante, maybe. Teammate, most likely what with all their connections from having grown up in a mafia family. But Supervillain?

They should’ve known. The stationery they’d used was simply too nice to belong to anyone Hero knew and trusted. They should’ve known this invitation was a trap.

“And where,” Hero said through gritted teeth as they tried to regain their bearings, “did you hear that?”

“I wrote it,” Supervillain grinned. “Didn’t you recognize my handiwork?”

Hero swallowed. “So? You’ve caught me, now what?”

Supervillain’s expression fell. Their darkened eyes met Hero’s for the first time since they’d pulled them into this dance. Frowning, Supervillain said, “I haven’t caught you. I’ve saved you from doing something incredibly stupid.”

“Yeah, right,” Hero scoffed. Their breath caught in their throat as Supervillain spun them out and pulled them back in again, this time with their back pressed to their chest.

Supervillain’s breath tickled the delicate skin of Hero’s ear as they leaned over their shoulder. “Politician is Other Supervillain.”

The master criminal’s words were still sinking in as Hero found themselves being spun out and back in again. Wide eyed, they slowly forced themselves to meet the intense gaze of the master criminal still leading them through the agonizingly slow dance.

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65 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Visitation Rights

A/N: I saw this prompt and my mind instantly… well you’ll see😆Anyway, thank you to @nuttynutcycle for this prompt — this probably went in an entirely different direction than any one of us thought it would (if y’all are looking for something amazing and kinda dark for the same prompt, check out @yourheartonfire's prompt fill), but that's why I love writing prompts - you never know what you'll get!

Prompt is in blue font! | Warnings: minor violence, (verbal) fighting, Villain’s heart melting/wholesome fluff, language, about 2.5k words…. I didn’t mean for it to be this long….

My masterlist

Villain straightened and took a half step back to admire his work. The sunlight glistened over the lake outside, his own little slice of paradise, and warmly streamed in through the unobstructed window, pooling right on the fluffy white cushion. It was utterly perfect.

Crouching down he packed up his tools, sliding the drill bit back into its place amongst the others in the hard case. Pencil, measuring tape, level, and —

Villain reeled back, jumping to his feet. Adrenaline coursed through his blood as his eyes landed on the source of movement he’d scene in his peripheral vision. Spotting the jet-black cat circling around the top of the newly mounted window seat, Villain’s muscles loosened.

Tsking, Villain wagged his finger at the unblinking creature. “Vengeance, what have I told you about sneaking up on me like that?”

Purring slightly, the cat answered with a wide-eyed, affectionate tilt of her head, pausing in her ritual of settling into her seat as Villain had previously seen her do. Who knew he’d be a cat person? Who knew that ruthless, destructive, utterly evil Villain would take pity on a sopping wet cat with fear in her eyes, roaming the city streets just miles away from here?

Certainly not Villain.

Sighing, Villain gestured to the window seat, though more specifically the view outside the window as Vengeance turned her back to the room and laid down in the patch of sunlight streaming in through the window. Villain’s heart melted at the sight.

So small. So precious.

It was utterly devious — not to mention embarrassing — how such a tiny creature had managed to waltz her way right into his heart. And it’d only been a few hours! Not days, not weeks, but hours! And already he’d been convinced to install a permanent fixture in the middle of his picturesque living room all for one little black cat with a sob story.

Pathetic.

There was no other word for what had happened to him and his villainous integrity in the last few hours once he’d managed to get the poor thing washed and dried…

And then he’d had to bandage himself up. Big cats might like water, other cats might like water, but this cat certainly did not.

But once Vengeance was dry and had began to calm down…

She’d started to mewl. And then she’d started to weave between his legs, pawing at his ankles as she looked up at him, staring straight into his soul.

And that’s how he’d sent six henchmen out to find cat treats and toys and this window seat before dismissing everyone for the day and retreating to his lake house for… well he didn’t have to figure everything out this afternoon. He could make adjustments to his schedule to accommodate Ven as soon as he knew how much work a cat could be.

Leaving his tools to be put away later, he bent over so his face was level with Ven’s and scratched behind her ears as they watched out the window together. She immediately began purring and leaning into the touch, and Villain swore, nothing could ever make him happier. People, even other animals, tended to flinch away from him. Though he supposed the mask and cape and his reputation did that. Even his own henchmen, people he’d known for years, had grown weary and antsy around him. But Vengeance didn’t seem to mind him one bit.

Still, it didn’t stop the scratch marks she’d given him while trying to clean her up sting any less.

“Isn't it beautiful?” The villain gestured to the view below. “Your own window. See, when you're good you get treats.”

Not that he’d actually denied her a treat when the henchmen had come back to their warehouse lair loaded down with bags from the pet store. It was the only way she’d get in the cat carrier.

The cat only purred louder, resting her head against the cushion and turning onto her back, exposing her stomach. The ultimate symbol of trust.

“I think we’ll get along just fine, don’t you, Ven?” Villain smiled, indulging her.

They both flinched, coming into full alertness when the door bell rang throughout the entry way and down into the sunken living room. Villain stood and glanced at the cat, asking if she knew who it might be. Vengeance didn’t provide an answer.

Cautiously, he made his way to the door. Staring through the frosted glass, he could only make out the figure of a woman with wild hair and an average stature.

So much for the remote location and lack of neighbors.

The bell rang again.

Pursing his lips, Villain reached for the doorknob, summoning his power to easily infiltrate the intruder’s mind and wipe the memory of this place — and him — from their mind, all before they could get a word out.

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89 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[innocentlymacabre]

I posted 321 times in 2022

That's 321 more posts than 2021!

68 posts created (21%)

253 posts reblogged (79%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@elytrians

@cloudofbutterflies

@space-cadead

@innocentlymacabre

@princessslea

I tagged 201 of my posts in 2022

Only 37% of my posts had no tags

#writeblr - 46 posts

#fiction - 35 posts

#dark academia - 31 posts

#dark academia aesthetic - 31 posts

#bookblr - 29 posts

#chaotic aesthetic - 28 posts

#writers of tumblr - 24 posts

#books and libraries - 24 posts

#chaotic academia - 21 posts

#light academia - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 112 characters

#i haven't stepped foot in a single library in singapore because they're all 'modern' and 'sleek' and all that bs

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

The streetlights flickered out one by one, starting with the one furthest from Jade. She stopped dead in her tracks as the one directly above her shattered, immersing the whole street in darkness. An eerie, cold chill descended onto Essex Street, making it much colder than it had any right to be, even for late autumn. A pile of leaves, collected at the foot of a tree, rustled and began to whirl around like a tornado. Jade’s head began to spin; she clung on to the nearest streetlight pole to steady herself. She didn’t want to fall to the ground. She knew what was coming, she had experienced it before. She couldn’t let herself be found slumped on the ground in front of him.

Suddenly, the leaves picked up speed and all turned crimson. Dust joined in in the swirl and a draft began to blow. The elements bundled into an eddy of blood red and orange, then exploded, the leaves and dirt flying around in all directions. A man now stood next to the tree. He wore a well-ironed matt red tuxedo and a black shirt underneath. A white tie added an extra splash of colour to his attire. In his right hand he carried a cane that bore a skull for a handle. It was sleek black, save for one scarlet line running down its length that matched the colour of his tux. He rapped it on the ground as he proceeded towards Jade, but didn’t seem to be using it for support.

‘Hello, Jade,’ he said heartily, raising a gloved hand. Jade, however, didn’t shake it. She kept to herself, not wanting anything to do with this fiend.

 ‘Whatever it is, I don’t want any of it.’

‘Ever so cold, Jade. A little niceness won’t kill you, you know.’

‘No, but you might.’ Then, shaking her head, ‘What do you want, Samael?’

‘A favour.’

‘Nope. No more deals with the devil. No more bullshit that I’ll surely lose out on.’

‘That’s why I’m giving you your soul back – so you won’t lose.’ Jade had sold her soul to Samael years ago in exchange for his help in fighting tuberculosis of her lymph nodes. She learnt that she should have just taken her chances on her own the hard way.

‘Why, so you can just take it again? I’ll pass, thanks. Besides, I’m doing just fine without it.’

‘Are you, Jade? Are you really?’ Samael waved his hand through the air, causing yet another cold draft. Jade’s body shivered and doubled over itself, but somehow, she avoided falling to the ground. Slowly, her skin peeled back to reveal a fleshless skeleton, with mere sockets for eyes and no nose.

‘I wouldn’t really call this doing just fine,’ he mocked. ‘You’re scheduled to die, you know. Reaper’s been notified and everything.’ Samael feigned pity and worry. ‘I could delay that though. Give you a few more years.’

‘Again, pass.’ Samael clenched his fist in fury. Jade began to choke, even though he hadn’t made any physical contact. ‘Go ahead, kill me,’ she managed through forced breaths.

‘You never were too bright, Jade,’ he sneered. ‘You’ve been dead for a long while. Your sister, Catherine, though. Well she’s quite the other, isn’t she? I could visit her with the snap of my fingers.’ Samael raised his hand and pushed his middle finger and thumb together.

‘What do I need to do?’ She’d fallen for the devil’s snare once more.

Suddenly, Jade could breathe freely again.

‘Knew you’d come around!’ With that happy remark, Samael set the street right, and gave Jade her human appearance back too. ‘But telling you is much too hard. Let me show you instead.’ Samael conjured a ball of red smoke and sent it hurtling towards Jade’s chest. When it reached her, no physical damage took place, but her mind had become permanently unhinged.

A powerful lust for a strange woman flowed through her, making her feel a passion like no other. She had thick locks and mesmerising green eyes. Her body swayed perfectly in time with the wind, as her chocolate brown hair swept across her face, the sunlight creating a glistening interplay of glowing wisps. Around her neck, she wore a tiny, rusted key that had some words engraved on them. Jade couldn’t quite make out what exactly they were. Her whole world was centred around this person she couldn’t even remember seeing, let alone actually meeting. But then it all came crashing down. Love turned to angst. Passion, to hatred. Jade screamed in pain, but her body stayed still. There was no relief after the pain. Torture, worse than before came bearing down on her. When it was done, all it left was a gaping hole, leaving her with nothing but a feeling of hopelessness and despair. Just before it ended though, the key appeared again – this time, ablaze.

At that moment, Samael called the smoke ball back to him, and touched it to his head, the ball disappearing once again. Jade gasped for fresh air, bending over and grasping the pole for support. It felt as if her guts had been ripped out, poked holes in, then stuffed back in – all within a second.

‘What the fuck was that?’

‘My memories. A few of them. Just the ones I needed you to see for you to understand.’

‘That woman, she meant something to you, didn’t she?’

‘Yes. I suppose you could say that.’

‘But then she left you?’

‘She left me, yes. She left me and took everything from me. Even my ability to grieve for my losses.’ Silence ensued, both unsure of what to say next. But then Jade remembered,

‘And the key? I saw it repeatedly. What does that mean?’

‘Good job, Jade! Good job! You cracked the case.’ Suddenly, Samael was all jumpy. ‘The key is what you have to get. Go to Sammirah and get back my key.’ Jade assumed Sammirah was the woman she had seen.

‘Why can’t you get it yourself?’

‘Let’s just say it’s a little bit out of my reach.’

‘That’s not enough. If you want my help, you’re going to have to tell me everything.’

See the full post

40 notes - Posted September 7, 2022

#4

"Indescribable" is such a peculiarly powerful descriptor. A feeling so intense words quite literally can never hope to do it justice. Poetic multitudes concealed and contained within the one word. A visceral feeling, ringing deep within oneself, explainable only in the abstract.

A message that says, I know what I mean even though I can’t say it, and a reply that says, I know what you mean even though I can’t hear it.

x

60 notes - Posted November 8, 2022

#3

if anyone has any resources on pirates, piracy, pirate culture (at sea, at port, in towns), lives of people at the time who weren't pirates / were pirate-adjacent, I would be most grateful

106 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#2

Reminders to help out your supernatural friends: everyone needs a helping hand now and again

A dragon’s den can get quite stuffy, what with the being underground and the constant fumes they exhale so make sure they’ve got a good ventilation set up. Maybe poke some holes in the ground to help them.

Zombies will be disoriented when they first wake up, it’s only natural. Make sure their graves are clear of any obstructions so they can fall easily back in when they (rather quickly) tire out their undead muscles.

Do not give zombies your literal hand, no matter how much they ask for it. They aren’t bound by the rules of the fae, so you’re free to retract your offer should they trick you into agreeing.

Vampires don’t feel the cold. Remind them to put a jacket on when they leave the house so they can blend in more easily.

Vampires also now show up on film, and have shown up since digital cameras have been a thing. Remind them that next time they go to photobomb a stranger with an embarrassing pose that was old a decade ago. Or don’t — it could be fun.

Werewolf transformations are incredibly painful. Consider preparing a hot bath, maybe a heating pad, and some warm comfort food for the night after.

Witches are especially busy this time of year. Offer to help run small errands like fetching them that frog they need (leave the eye extraction to the professionals). Mason jars are also appreciated.

The tree beast clacking and scraping on your window isn’t trying to scare you. They just need a nail cutter.

The forest nymphs making those noises aren’t trying to shoo you away. They’re attracted by all the chatter and the light of your campfire and they just want to be a part of something.

Remind banshees that while their warnings are appreciated, most people would likely respond very rudely to being screamed at. Maybe just help out those that get it.

A simple hat can help your elvish brethren blend very easily, and with all the different types of hats to choose from, you don’t even need to sacrifice style.

Clogs are a comfortable and stylish way for satyrs to hide their hooves. Long pants should easily take care of any furry legs, but if shorts are their choice of garment, a simple mind your own business, pal will wear off any nosy strangers.

Minotaurs, depending on how much man and how much taur they are, could likely benefit from the tips for both satyrs and elves.

Messing with electrical devices tends to make people more angry than scared these days. Try brainstorming some better haunting ideas with ghosts.

A mask, a big hat, and tinted sunglasses can allow your more skeletally-inclined associates to blend more easily by hiding 95% of their face.

Remind everyone to come up with an at least semi-plausible backstory for their “costume” on Halloween so they can just go as themselves. It’s been a hard year for everyone.

-----

Read Frozen Summer, a speculative horror book, for free!

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274 notes - Posted October 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Thinking about Sunflowers by van Gogh again and yes, the painting is intrinsically full of hope and beauty and, much like its infinitely more famous cousin, Starry Night, it does speak to the way van Gogh saw the world; I won't talk about that here because I'm sure people far better versed on the subject than I am have already done so.

What I want to talk about is that I think it speaks loud volumes about the loneliness he weathered too.

Take a look at that painting. There doesn't seem to be any apparent light source - no apparent sun, so to speak. When sunflowers can't find a sun to reach towards, you know what they do? They turn to each other. They swivel and contort and face each other and become one another's sun. They're a group species to the core.

Yet, despite there being no sun for these sunflowers to reach out to, none of them face each other. In fact, they almost go out of their way to not have to deal with their neighbours.

I truly believe this was one of the more overt markers heralding his eventual end and was definitely one of his most expressive pieces.

Even if he didn't intend any of this - overtly, subconsciously, or otherwise - I think there's a kind of beauty in finding meaning where even the creator didn't see it.

-----

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377 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[hyuckflirts]

women don’t want men, women want matthew fairchild to be happy

[vintagestrawberrydoll]

guys i just read aristole and dante discover the secrets of the universe and DUDE i understand why it was hyped up. it was fantasic, 13/10 would read again

[ufostudies]

28.07.2019 // currently reading! @tilliewalden is a very talented storyteller

[meristudies]

20/01/22

This studyblr is slowly turning into a bookblr

Since I have finished my exams and I don’t have to go to class, I don’t have anything to study. Instead, I spend my day reading (and playing Animal Crossing). I am still slowly making my way through War and Peace but I have also started reading poetry. I have never read poetry before (at least not by personal decision), so I want to try it! I have started with a Romantic English poetry anthology. And since it was relatively warm (meaning there were two rays of sunshine that casted a bit of warmth) I had the opportunity of reading outside.

How are you doing? I hope you are having a good week!

[nalgenewhore]

blossom's blooming

elide x lorcan, modern au, fluff + flowers, word count: 1582

Up above in the blue sky, the sun was shining and it cast a glorious warmth upon the city. The cool breeze from the Florine River kept the citizens from being baked alive as they strolled home. Elide, who was a devout public transit kind of girl, decided that she would enjoy the early June weather by walking home.

Usually, she’d have her headphones on, playing whichever tune she was obsessing over at that moment, but today she wanted to enjoy the human conversations around her. Elide was walking through Orynth’s vibrant artisan quarter, each shop cuter than the last. She stopped to peruse a few but didn’t end up buying anything until she saw Viola, a darling little florist booth.

She knew the owner, Lyria, quite well and spotted her in the back by the counter, wrapping up someone’s bouquet. “Lia?”

The woman startled, most likely having forgotten that anyone could walk right into her shop. Her shock melted into kind familiarity, “Elide, hello!” She snipped the ribbon she’d tied with a pair of small scissors and made her way through the rows of flora to greet Elide. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Elide said, looking around at the various flowers and other plants. “How are you, how’s everything?”

They spent a few minutes catching up as they hadn’t seen each for some time. Lyria led Elide to the back so she could continue with her orders and their conversation wouldn’t be interrupted. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Elide tilted her head to the side, eyes on a bundle of delicate harebells. The same flowers were native to the Northern Isles, where Lorcan had grown up. “You know, do you think you could make something small with those harebells?”

Lyria turned to look at the flowers in question and smiled, nodding as she moved to pick the bucket up. “Of course. Are they for Lorcan, then?”

The dark-haired woman nodded, a smitten smile twisting her lips. “Yeah. He likes those flowers.” The harebells had a cup-like quality, their pale blue and purple petals bending down.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Elide gave Lyria complete licence to arrange which flowers she saw fit and ten minutes later, she’d paid for an elegant bouquet, nothing too big or full. She thanked Lyria and carried them in the crook of her arm for the rest of her walk home.

The apartment was locked when she got home, meaning that Lorcan was either still at work or on his way home. He had this habit of never locking the door behind him and sometimes not even closing it. The first time Elide had arrived home to the door open, she’d thought that something horrible had happened, like Lorcan had surprised a couple robbers who’d then killed him.

She put her work bag down, toed her shoes off, and walked into their kitchen. Elide laid the flowers down on the counter and carefully climbed up onto the surface to reach the vase up above the cabinet. She hopped down, landing delicately.

Elide filled the vase up and mixed in the packet of powder that came with the bouquet before snipping the ties. She put the flowers in and fussed over them for a couple minutes until they were arranged to her liking.

<3<3<3

Lorcan parked in front of their building, as they didn’t have a parking garage, and stepped out with his bag, locking the car behind him.

He slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he approached the lobby doors and pressed the button next to his unit number.

A few moments later, his girlfriend’s voice crackled through, “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

“Oh, hey, you.”

Lorcan arched his brow up, “You sound surprised. Expecting someone else, were you?”

Elide laughed, “Like what, a sugar daddy?”

“s’not unheard of, Lee. How else would we afford our extravagant lifestyle?”

“Gods, you’re ridiculous,” she muttered, clicking her tongue. The lobby doors buzzed as they unlocked. “Get up here already, dummy.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lorcan moved towards the doors and pulled them open, walking towards the mailboxes. Elide often forgot to check theirs, so he’d developed a habit of checking them himself. He unlocked the metal door and pulled out a stack of envelopes, shifting through them as he walked towards the elevator.

Most of them were bills and notices, nothing interesting. Lorcan pressed the elevator button and the doors opened a moment later. He stepped in and glanced around to see if anyone else needed to get on. When he didn’t see anyone, Lorcan pushed the knob for the fifth floor and leaned against the back wall.

The ride was smooth and silent save for the whirrs of the cables and wheels of the elevator. A short time later, the ride stopped and the doors slid open. He walked out, nodding in greeting to one of their neighbours.

Lorcan arrived at their apartment and knocked on the door. The sound of Elide’s footsteps padding down the hall made him smile, one corner of his mouth higher than the other.

The lock clicked as it was turned and then the door was opened, revealing a small woman. She beamed up at him, lifting onto the tips of her toes as she slid her hands up his arms. “Hi.”

He grinned, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her in, and he bent his head to meet her kiss. “Hi.”

Elide pulled away first, her slender eyes bright. “Hi.”

“You said that already,” he told her, unable to stop himself from stealing one last kiss. “Hi.”

She pushed herself out of his hold and tugged him inside, leaning around him to shut the door. “How was your day?”

Lorcan shrugged, putting his bag down. “Nothing special. You?”

“It was good. I walked home ‘cause it was so nice outside.”

They continued to chat about banal things as they moved further into the apartment. Lorcan went to their bedroom to change and picked up her clothes to toss them in the laundry bin alongside his. As he walked out, he twisted his long hair into a mass on the top of his head and secured it with an old elastic.

Elide was at the stove, cooking something. She didn’t notice him until he slipped his arms around her waist, curving his shoulders to rest his chin on her head. “Whatcha making?”

“Pasta,” she said, resting her hand on his forearm. “Sounds good?”

Lorcan nodded, moving to kiss the top of her head. “Mm-hmm.”

“Did you see the table? I got something.”

He stood up straight, turning to look at their dining table. A vase was sitting in the middle, carrying a bundle of pale blue and white flowers. Lorcan stepped away from Elide, assuming that they’d been a gift for her and that there would be a note somewhere near them. He looked around the base of the container, found nothing, and started looking through the flowers.

Still, he didn’t find anything and began to look at them suspiciously, head tilted to the side.

Elide turned away from the stove to watch him, an amused smile tugging across her face.

Lorcan delicately fingered one of the harebells, seeming wary. “Nice flowers.”

“Do you like them?”

He nodded, making a noise in the back of his throat. “Did I forget something? Your birthday’s not for another two weeks, sweetheart.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, you didn’t forget anything. I bought them – they’re for you.”

His head snapped up and his eyes widened. “They’re mine? My flowers?”

Elide nodded, propping her hand on her hip. “Yeah, yours.” Slowly, curiously, Lorcan looked at the bouquet again. Incredulous laughter bubbled up from her lips, “What, it’s like you’ve never gotten flowers before!”

He could feel his cheeks heating, for whatever reason. Lorcan flicked his eyes to the side, mumbling as he shifted on his feet, “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Hmm? Will you say that again?” She moved closer.

“I’ve never gotten flowers before,” he repeated, his voice louder. “Nobody ever bought them for me.”

“Wait, really?” Elide asked.

He nodded, slowly lifting his eyes to hers. “Is that bad?”

She shrugged, putting the wooden spoon down on the counter. Elide moved towards him, “I don’t know, I like getting flowers. Everyone should get them, aren’t they nice?” She fit herself against his side, resting her hand against his lower stomach.

Lorcan curled his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “They are. Thank you, sweetheart.” He reached out to touch them again, “You know, we have these flowers at home.”

“I know, that’s why I got them,” she said, leaning the side of her head against him. “Lyria had them.”

“Can we get more?”

Elide laughed gently and nodded, “Of course we can.”

<3<3<3

the cadre

Lorcan: Photo Attachment Lorcan: lee got me flowers. Sent 20:13

Fenrys: WHAT. Fenrys: Nehemia never gets me flowers Fenrys: I want flowers those look cool Sent 20:16

Vaughan: lmao con buys me flowers every week 😎 Vaughan: the gays stay winning 🥶😈💪 Connall “❤” This Message Sent 20:17

Fenrys: shut UP VAUGHAN NO ONE CARES ABOUT UR FLOWERS WE CARE ABOUT LORCANS FLOWERS Sent 20:17

Rowan: Wait guys can get flowers? Rowan: BRB. Have to ask Aelin something. Sent 20:19

Connall: ask her where she got those im bored of my florist Sent 20:21

<3<3<3

@mythicaitt @eyllweambassador @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior  @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @jadeaffliction @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thegoddessofyou @claralady @darlinminds @readingismyonlyhobby @gracie-rosee @myshadowsingeraz @firestarsandseneschals @elriel4life @always-in-a-daydream @jlinez @hellasblessed @mariamuses @darklesmylove @adelzd-bookblr @rowaelinismyotp @sassyhobbits @swankii-art-teacher @januarystears

[nalgenewhore]

48. “you don’t hate me, quit lying to yourself.” elorcan 😌

sweet n short.  

She woke up in the golden sunrise. A heavy arm was sretched across her waist and Elide slowly turned beneath it to face the young man sleeping next to her. 

The rays of the sun slip-slid over her love’s face, lengthening the shadows of his long lashes over the proud bridge of his straight nose. The shadow beneath his cheekbone was deeper than usual. Elide smiled gently at his beauty and lifted her hand to trace her fingertips over his sharp features. 

Lorcan grunted softly and nudged her hand with his nose. He slit his hooded eyes open and promptly shut them. His hand slid to her hip and Elide gasped softly at the sharp way he pulled her over to him. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.” Her toes curled at the sound of his raspy voice. “’t’s so early.”

Elide smiled and kissed him gently, the metal of the lip ring that pierced the middle of his bottom lip cool against her own. Her boyfriend smiled, humming sweetly, “Hi, hasáŋni.”

Her heart swelled against the restraints of her ribcage. Elide deepened the embrace, unable to think about the right words that could tell him how she felt when he spoke to her in his mother tongue. “Moy zvezda,” Elide murmured, cradling his cheek in her hand. 

They slowly pulled away from each other. Lorcan’s gaze was dreamy and so soft. Elide laughed, her head tipping back. Lorcan tracked his eyes over her face, basking in her joy. 

He dipped his head and kissed the corner of her jaw, holding her a bit tighter. 

Elide made a soft noise and slid her arms around his neck. She carded her fingers through his thick hair to scratch her fresh set of acrylics over his scalp. Getting her nails done was a once in a while luxury that Elide loved treating herself to. 

Lorcan smiled against her soft skin and tilted his head up, patiently waiting for a kiss. Instead, Elide licked his nose and poked the tip of her tongue through his thick septum hoop. He jerked away and made a disgusted noise, looking at her like she had betrayed him. 

She cackled and wrapped her legs around one of his. Lorcan shook his head at her, “Gods above and below, woman, I hate you.”

Elide giggled and pressed her tits against his face, knowing exactly how to earn his forgiveness. “You don’t hate me, quit lying to yourself.” 

Lorcan snorted and sighed happily as he buried his face against her chest, “You’re dumb.”

“You’re dumb.” 

“You’re dumber.”

“You’re the dumbest.”

They were young still and hadn’t quite matured past that juvenile, immature kind of affection. Lorcan grinned again and looked up at her, “I love you so much, beautiful.”

Elide giggled and stroked her fingers over the back of his neck, “I love love love you too, baby doll.”

translations: hasáŋni: lakota - ‘partner (spouse, wife, husband etc)’ moy zvezda: russian - ‘my star’

@mythicaitt @eyllweambassador @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @ladyverena @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @jadeaffliction @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @thegoddessofyou @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @claralady @neonhellas @darlinminds @readingismyonlyhobby @autophobiaxx @myshadowsingeraz @firestarsandseneschals @elriel4life @always-in-a-daydream @jlinez @hellasblessed @mariamuses @darklesmylove @adelzd-bookblr @rowaelinismyotp @sassyhobbits @swankii-art-teacher @januarystears@flamingveritas

[nalgenewhore]

masterlist - ao3 - day two - day four

<3<3<3

They step out of Elide’s apartment lobby and huddle beneath the awning. Elide looks up at Lorcan and sees her scowling at the sheets of rain that pour. 

She sighs through her nose and tugs on the hem of her girlfriend’s coat, looking up at her expectantly. Lorcan’s brow furrows as she looks down at Elide, “What?” 

Elide rolls her eyes, “Stop frowning.” Reaching her hand up, she cups Lorcan’s cheek and strokes her thumb over her love’s angular cheekbone, “You know you’re going to get wrinkles, mon amour.” 

Lorcan’s stoney expression doesn’t change, but her eyes glitter with something like happiness, “I’ve been frowning my entire life and I’ve never gotten a wrinkle.” 

With a huff, Elide crosses her arms over her chest, “Tu m’énerves.” 

A slow smile stretches across Lorcan’s mouth, her sharp teeth flashing. She cups Elide’s face between her large hands and brushes her lips against Elide’s, “You bother me too, Lee.” She kisses her girlfriend fully, bumping the tip of her nose into Elide’s, “So fuckin’ much.” 

Lorcan pulls away and tracks her eyes across Elide’s face. She pecks the pert tip of her girlfriend’s nose. The freckles on Elide’s cheek shift as she smiles, “Why can’t you ever listen to a thing I say?” 

“Because I like bothering you,” Lorcan answers. 

Elide laughs and takes her hand, running into the rain. Lorcan is,  of course, powerless against her and follows, ducking her head. 

Soon, they’re pushing through the doors and smiling at each other, still holding hands. They take their coats up and hang them on the coat rack. The cosy café is decently full. Elide scans for a seat, toying with her girl’s slim fingers. 

Lorcan kisses the top of her head, “I’ll get us drinks if you find a seat.” 

“D’accord. I want… a London Fog, please,” she said, tipping her head backwards. Elide scrunches her nose up and smiles. 

Her girlfriend shares a rare smile with her, “Ok. Anything to eat?” 

“Non, je n’ai pas faim, juste mon thé.” 

Lorcan nods and they part ways, holding hands until they can’t any longer. She shoves her hands into her hoodie pocket and stands in line, idly eyeing the baked goods and pastries on display. 

She sees the brownie, that fudgy, rich, brownie and her stomach grumbles. The line advances quickly and Lorcan steps up to the counter, nodding to Luca, “Boyo.” 

“Hey, Lor,” Luca replies, his smile easy and sunny. “What can I get you lovely ladies today?” 

Lorcan arches her brow, thinking, I’m hardly a lady. “Uh… I’ll get a latte and a London Fog.” She glances at the brownie, “And that brownie.” 

Luca sets up the card machine. “You got it.” The kid serves the brownie on a small plate and slides it across the counter as Lorcan pays and tips. 

She takes the plate, nodding again, “Thank you.” Lorcan walks to the end of the counter and waits patiently. 

A short wait later, their drinks are put before her. Lorcan picks them up and balances her brownie as she walks towards Elide. 

Her girlfriend smiles and takes her London Fog, sweet, smokey steam rising from the cup. Lorcan sits in the velvet wingback chair. It’s her favourite chair, and Elide’s is the lavender cogswell chair beside it. 

Elide drinks her tea, and then takes the fork next to the decadent chocolate concoction. Lorcan arches her brow as she watches her thieving love cut a bite with the side of the fork and lift it to her mouth. She moans softly, her eyes closing. Lorcan shifts in her chair and drinks her coffee, blocking out her thoughts. 

“Mon amour, c’est si bon." Elide takes another bite and holds it to Lorcan’s lips. Lorcan accepts the bite and looks at her girl in mild shock and betrayal. “What?” 

“I asked you if you wanted anything to eat and you literally said ‘no, I’m not hungry, just my tea’. This - that’s my brownie.” 

Elide gapes and laughs, “Lorcan, sweetie. It’s one bite. J’veux juste une petite bouchée.” 

“You're evil. Should’ve known not to date a witch,” Lorcan says, taking a drink of her coffee to cut through the richness of the dessert. 

Elide rolls her eyes and takes two more bites before relenting the plate. Lorcan shakes her head as she finishes the last half in two bites, “Evil.” 

Elide huffs and focuses on her tea, flicking Lorcan’s brow. Lorcan catches her fingers and holds them loosely as they finish their drinks. After that they just… talk. Lorcan’s head rolls on the back of the chair. Elide toys with her fingers and talks about her job. 

Their friends, Nesryn and Borte, come in for to-go cups, stopping to chat a moment. Borte tells Elide about the new martial art class she’s teaching at the nearby fighting gym. 

Elide listens with rapt attention, pulling Lorcan’s hand into her lap. Lorcan watches her girlfriend with slight caution, recognising the eager and determined light in her eyes. 

The laid back couple continues on, leaving Elide and Lorcan alone again. “You gonna take that class, princess?” 

Elide hums, “Yeah… I want to.” 

Lorcan shrugs, closing her eyes, “You should. It’d be fun to watch you beat people up.” 

“That’s sick, Lorcan,” Elide frowns. 

She shrugs again. “It’d be hot.” 

Elide clicks her tongue and silently stares at her resting girlfriend. Her chest starts to constrict her heart and she brushes her lips over Lorcan’s knuckles, “Ma chère?” 

“Hmm? What is it, baby?” 

She breathes in shakily, “Open your eyes. I have to tell you something.” 

One dark, depthless eye cracks open, but Lorcan remains still. “A serious something to tell me?” 

A nod. 

Lorcan sits up, warily eyeing Elide. “‘kay. What’s up?” 

“Je t’adore.” She lifts a brow, not understanding Elide’s language. “Je t’adore, Lorcan.” 

“Love, you know I live for you to talk in Blackbeak, but I cannot understand you.” 

“J’sais pas- je t’adore. Je- I love you,” Elide says, her pulse racing. “I love you.”

Blankly, Lorcan stares at her, her face so devoid of anything. Nothing, absolutely nothing flashes across her eyes. 

Elide nods, “Um… ok. I’m-” she stands up, “I- I forgot that… I have to leave.” She grabs her phone and walks out, grabbing her jacket on her way. 

It’s nearly a minute later when Lorcan finally realises what happened. She quickly scrambles to her feet and dashes out, forgetting her jacket.

Lorcan runs in the rain and sees Elide in the road, walking quickly away. “Lee!” she shouts, going after her. “Please, princess, wait a minute.” 

Elide reluctantly stands still, but doesn’t turn. 

Her girlfriend narrows her eyes and sighs through her nose. “Elide, I- fuck, I’m sorry I froze. I was hit- I’ve dreamed about you saying that to me.”  

“Why.” 

“Because I love you. I love you, Lee.” Silently, Lorcan begs her Elide to turn around. 

Elide does, but her face remains carefully blank, her eyes red-rimmed and watery. She drops her gaze, “You’re just saying that ‘cause you- you don’t want to hurt my feelings.” 

“No, I’m not, actually,” Lorcan says, stepping forward and not caring about the rain that’s soaked her hair and shirt. “I love you, princess. I’ve… I’ve loved you for a long time.” Her hands shake slightly and she aches to take Elide in her arms, but she doesn’t dare move forward. “For a really, really long time, ‘lide. And I know you think I’m lying so you aren’t hurt. I would never lie about this, please, believe me.” 

“You love me? Tu- tu m’adores? Really?” 

“Yes, really.” 

Elide smiles and then next thing Lorcan knows, she’s being forced to take a step back as Elide crashes into her, her hands clutching the back of Lorcan’s shirt. Lorcan grins in relief and wraps her arms around Elide, inhaling the expensive, delicate scent of that elderberry and cinnamon that clings to everything Elide owns. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” Elide whispers, her nose tucked against Lorcan’s. She kisses Lorcan, hoping that her kiss says it too. 

Slowly, Lorcan lets her down and cups the back of Elide’s head, graceful fingers tangled in onyx hair. “I… love you… so fuckin’ much, Elide Lochan.” 

Pulling back, Elide bites her lip and takes Lorcan’s hand, her eyes smouldering. Lorcan looks her up and down, making Elide laugh. 

She turns and soon after, they’re stumbling down her hall, too wrapped up in each other. Lorcan’s back hits the door and she slowly, slowly licks into her girlfriend’s mouth as Elide unlocks the front door and it swings open. 

Lorcan picks her up, breathing, “I love you.” 

Elide hums it back and wraps her legs around Lorcan’s waist. She leans back to drop her jacket to the floor and kisses her way down Lorcan’s strong jaw. Her hands slide over Lorcan’s shoulders and she pauses, drawing away to stare in confusion, “Où est ton… coat?” 

Lorcan blinks once and shrugs. 

“You forgot it?”

She walks into Elide’s bedroom and drops her onto the bed they didn’t bother making that morning. “I don’t like that jacket anyway.” 

Bright laughter bubbles from Elide’s throat and she tips her head back, “T’es folle, mon amour.” 

“Mmm, you love me like that.” 

“Yes… I really do.” 

<3<3<3

translations (french): Mon amour: my love Tu m'énerves: you annoy me D'accord: ok Non, je n'ai pas faim, juste mon thé: no, I'm not hungry, just my tea C'est si bon: it's so good J'veux juste une petite bouchée: I just want a little bite Ma chère: my dear Je t'adore: (romantic) i love you T'es folle: you're crazy

an: french!elide is something me n @ladywitchling​ came up with 🥰

@ladyverena​ @ladywitchling​ @mythicaitt​ @sassyhobbits​ @darklesmylove​ @julemmaes​ @letstakethedawn @cicada-bones​ @highladyofthefangirlcourt​ @darlinminds​ @nahthanks​ @sjmships​ @eyllweambassador​ @flamingveritas​ @adelzd-bookblr​ @somewhatdynamite @woollycat22​ @firestarsandseneschals​ @the-regal-warrior�� 

[nalgenewhore]

masterlist - ao3 - day eight - day ten

<3<3<3

Elide stands in the kitchen, calmly waiting for the coffee to be ready.

Her hips sway side to side as she dances slowly, spinning around the small space. The sun’s risen and it streams into their apartment, washing nearly every surface in its golden light. Elide sings softly, “The moment I wake up… before I put on my make-up, I say a little prayer for you…” 

While combing my hair, now

And wondering what dress to wear, now

I say a little prayer for you… 

She hums along and turns, glancing down the hallway. The bedroom door is open and she knows that her girlfriend hasn’t moved an inch. Elide shakes her head. Lorcan is such a baby sometimes. 

The stovetop coffee pot boils. She pours two mugs and fixes Lorcan’s just the way she likes it. 

Forever, and ever, you’ll stay in my heart and I will love you

“Forever, and ever, we never will part, oh, how I love you…” she walks to the start of the hallway and calls down, “Honey? Are you up yet?”

From their bedroom, she hears a pitiful groan. “Yeah.” Elide chuckles softly and picks up her coffee, sipping delicately. She hums at the rich taste and sighs. Lorcan swears loudly and races out of their room, sprinting into the bathroom. 

Alarmed, Elide puts her coffee down and runs to the toilet. Lorcan’s kneeled before the toilet, her shoulders heaving as she retches. Elide stands between her legs and pulls her long hair back for her, twisting it up with one hand. She rubs Lorcan’s back, “That’s it, just let it all out. Yeah.” 

Lorcan groans weakly and empties her stomach again. She gulps down oxygen, her lungs greedy for it. She slumps down, resting her forehead against the toilet seat. It’s cool against her feverish skin. 

Elide makes a noise as she runs her fingers through Lorcan’s hair, “Oh, honey, ew. Don’t lie there.” She leans down to kiss the top of Lorcan’s head, “Why don’t you brush your teeth and get back to bed?”

“Ok,” Lorcan whispers. She slinks to her feet and shuffles to the sink. She moves slowly, washing her hands and then brushing her teeth. Elide still rubs Lorcan back, scratching with her nails. 

“I made you coffee,” Elide says, smiling sweetly. “And I can get you something to eat before I’ve got to get to work.” She lifts her hand to tweak something about Lorcan’s hair. “Do you feel like anything?” 

“You’re not staying?” Lorcan asks, frowning as she rinses the toothpaste from her mouth. “Why?” 

Elide laughs, “I have work. You’ll be ok.” She stretches upwards and kisses Lorcan’s cheek, her hand cupping the other. “I believe in you.” 

She only frowns harder, “No, I don’t want you to leave.” Lorcan slides her arm around Elide’s back. “Why can’t you stay?” 

Elide hums and tilts her head to the side, “I can’t, baby. You know it’s important.”

“Yeah,” Lorcan mutters. “I guess.” She sighs and lets go of Elide to slide back to their room, her motions tender to avoid setting herself off. Elide trails after her love, her heart squeezing with guilt. She likes to care for Lorcan. The woman doesn’t relinquish control easily. She’s rather guarded. “Fuck, why did I drink that much?” 

Elide snorts softly and pads back down the hallway. She’ll fetch their coffees and stay a little later than usual. She can be late to work once. “I told you not to!” 

Lorcan curses, “Was this a ploy to get me to follow your advice? I’m dying.” 

“You think that I forced you to drink that much so you would be hungover this morning?”

“Uh-huh!”

Elide walks into their room and puts Lorcan’s mug down on her nightstand table. She sits beside her girlfriend, “That’s irrational, Lor.”

“You’re irrational,” Lorcan mutters, flicking her eyes over to Elide. She sits up carefully, “Did you make me coffee?”

“Yes, I did,” Elide reaches over and passes Lorcan her mug. 

Lorcan accepts the still steaming drink and sips tentatively. She settles back against the headboard and closes her eyes. Her long legs are splayed across their bed and Lorcan tips her head against Elide’s shoulder. “Don’t go,” she whispers, nudging her nose into Elide’s jaw. “Please?”

“I wish I didn’t have to,” Elide says. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“‘t’s ok,” Lorcan murmurs, lifting herself up and flashing Elide a small smile. “Really. I’ll live.” 

Elide hums and kisses Lorcan. “Thought you said you were dying.” 

“I was being dramatic.”

She laughs and kisses Lorcan once more, “Gods, I love you.” She pulls away, brushing Lorcan’s hair back. “I’ll call you at lunch to check in.”

“Ok,” Lorcan nods, grinning softly. “I love you too.”

Elide gets out of bed and walks to her closet. She can feel Lorcan’s eyes on her as she pulls her sweater off, leaving her in the tank top she wears to sleep. “You’re staring,” Elide says, her cheeks blushing. It’s ridiculous that Lorcan can still make her blush like this. 

“Sure am.”

She laughs and looks over her shoulder at Lorcan, “You’re ridiculous.”

Lorcan hums and drinks her coffee, “And you’re beautiful.”

Elide clicks her tongue and turns back, grabbing the clothes she set out earlier. She takes her outfit and walks out of the room, “I am not letting you distract me.” 

The dark haired woman laughs, her head tilted back, “That’s not what I was doing, Lee!”

“Sure you weren’t,” Elide replies from the bathroom. She doesn’t bother closing the door as she slips on a pair of camel trousers and a lavender cashmere sweater. Elide sweeps her dark hair up and keeps it in place with a tortoiseshell clamp. For make-up, Elide goes quicker than usual, keeping it simple with an expertly sharp winged eyeliner, mascara, blush, and a deep pink lipstick. 

She puts her things away and walks back out, clipping the clasp of her delicate bracelet. “Love? Are you sleeping?” There’s no response from Lorcan, so Elide pops her head in. She smiles at the sight of Lorcan, nestled into the pile of pillows and a thick duvet. Lorcan is fully asleep and Elide pads in. She leans over the side of their mattress and kisses Lorcan’s temple, “I love you.”

Elide brushes Lorcan’s hair back and leaves, stealing one last backwards glance. She grabs her phone and her bag, slipping on her white pumps. She knows it won’t be too cold, but she still grabs her long wool coat and shrugs it on before leaving. 

When she’s arrived in the lobby, her phone buzzes. Elide digs it out of her pocket as she pushes the doors open and she smiles at the text she’s received.

honey: i love you too.

 <3<3<3

an: i love them. i am obsessed and thats ok. 

@ladyverena​ @ladywitchling​ @mythicaitt​ @sassyhobbits​ @darklesmylove​ @julemmaes​ @letstakethedawn @cicada-bones​ @highladyofthegentry​ @darlinminds​ @nahthanks​ @sjmships​ @eyllweambassador​ @flamingveritas​ @adelzd-bookblr​ @somewhatdynamite @woollycat22 @firestarsandseneschals​ @the-regal-warrior @empress-ofbloodshed