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atlabeth · 27 days ago

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unadulterated loathing (pt 2)

pt 1 / pt 3

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner with fiyero on a history project. things don't go as you imagine.

a/n: sprinkling anthony bridgerton references in this because wreck my plans that's my man!! anyways this is actually going to be 3 parts because i have zero self control and ended up writing 15k words in total and im trying to see whether i like posting parts or doing one whole one shot more so there's going to be a third part. but for once in my writer life i have the whole thing written so it will be out in a couple days! have no idea how this fic became this long out of nowhere but i hope you all enjoy lol. stressed reader x calm bf will always be famous on this blog

wc: 4.9k

warning(s): almost cheating? fiyero is still w/ galinda for most of this so the line is very blurred but they dont cross it lmao. the slightest bit of angst but basically all fluff

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero spread his arms out as you took a seat in the grass. Idly, you wondered about getting grass stains out before he started talking again. “Fresh air, actual sunlight, and things to look at other than words on a page.”

“I do go outside,” you said wryly. “You act like I’m some hermit.”

He shrugged. “I only ever see you in class or at the library.”

“I’m just there most of the time,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m not this smart by slacking off.”

Fiyero said your name with surprise. “Was that a joke?”

You laughed again. “Hardly.”

“I think it was,” he nodded. “You really are learning how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun!” you exclaimed. “We just have different ideas of fun!”

“And what is your idea of fun?” Fiyero asked pointedly. “Studying? Attending class? Going through the intricacies of various languages?”

“That last one is very fun,” you defended.

“How did you decide on linguistics anyways?” he asked. “You’re incredibly passionate about something I didn’t even know was a major here.”

“It’s not, technically.” You shrugged. “I’m a history major. I just convinced Doctor Dillamond to let me be his teacher’s assistant so I could include more linguistics lessons in the syllabus.”

“How do you do it?” he asked. “Oz— why do you do it? You’re stressed all the time. Surely taking one less class or not being a TA wouldn’t kill you. All of this seems like it is.”

“I’m not like you, Fiyero,” you said. “I can’t get kicked out of a hundred schools and still be fine. I’ve got one chance, and if I squander it, then I’ve also squandered my dream. And that’s unacceptable to me.”

“There’s always second chances,” he said. “And third ones, too. Sometimes even fourth.”

“Maybe for a prince,” you laughed. “But not for somebody like me.”

“And just who are you?” Fiyero asked as he sat down next to you. “I know you’re Gillikinese and I know you’re probably going to succeed in whatever you attempt. But I still feel like I don’t know anything about who you are without the school uniform.”

“Why does that matter?” you asked defensively. “We’re project partners, not friends.”

“Because I’d very much like us to be friends,” he answered simply.

That might have been the most shocking thing he’d said all day. Fiyero Tigelaar, Winkie prince and self-declared slacker and desired paramour of nearly every Shiz student, said he wanted to be your friend.

Again, that warmth bloomed inside you. You tried to ignore it—tried to fully banish it.

“Don’t do this,” you said, looking away from him.

“Do what?”

“Act like you like me,” you said, stronger this time. “You— you do it with everyone, and that’s fine, but don’t do it with me.”

“I’m not following,” Fiyero said.

You glared at him. “I know you aren’t this daft.”

“Apologies,” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out how you figured I don’t genuinely like you.”

You blinked. “Because you’re you. You flirt with everybody so you can dance through life.”

“Of course,” Fiyero agreed. “It just so happens that I genuinely like you in addition.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”

His laugh was nothing but shocked. “Are you asking me why I like you?”

“Well,” you glanced away with a huff, “when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

“I’ll bite anyways,” Fiyero said. “I like you because you know what you want. You never really stop talking about it, honestly.”

“Are you trying to compliment me?”

“You’re intelligent and driven and you don’t shy away from anything you want,” he continued. “And you thoroughly vex me in near every encounter we have, most joyously.”

“…So you like me because I’m stubborn and confusing,” you said.

Fiyero sighed. “You‘ve got some serious self esteem issues.”

“I do not!” you exclaimed.

“You’ve tied your worth to your academic achievement,” he said. “You can’t see all the good you’ve already done, how smart you truly are, because you only stress about the next thing you need to do. You’d rather lose your mind over what’s to come than realize all you’ve got in the moment.”

Your mouth opened and closed for a good five seconds, like a fish out of water, before it snapped shut.

“I thought you were supposed to be brainless,” you settled on.

“I am,” Fiyero agreed with a chuckle. “But I also know people better than most, and our study sessions have given me ample time to study you.”

Great Oz, why was your face so hot? You felt like you were burning up from the inside out. Fiyero Tigelaar was killing you, and slowly at that.

“Why are you studying me?” you asked pointedly.

“Because you’re interesting,” he said. “And very beautiful.”

“Well, I’m— I’m glad we’ve finally reached a truce.” You tried to sound as casual as possible—you couldn’t let Fiyero know the full effect he was beginning to have on you. You didn’t think he would ever shut up about that, and Galinda certainly wouldn’t either. You didn’t want to make an enemy of her. “It’ll make this project much easier.”

“Yes,” Fiyero mused. “I believe it will.”

Amusement, and maybe something warmer, danced in his irises. A very small part of you wanted to let yourself fall, freely and uncaring, just as every other student did.

You had to lock that part of you away, never to be seen again. You didn’t like Fiyero. He was still a nuisance in every single sense of the word.

You swallowed, trying to cure your cottonmouth. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

You needed to finish this essay immediately.

You sighed when you heard a knock on your door. Coralie, for how smart she was, had a habit of forgetting her room key—so much so that you’d stopped bothering to lock the door on the days she went to class before you.

“It’s unlocked, Cora!” you called out. You didn’t want to get up from your desk, not when you were in the middle of writing. You were worried that you would lose the thread of inspiration you’d finally caught the moment you got out of your chair.

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” a familiar voice said. “All sorts of miscreants could get in.”

Your hand slipped in your shock, but you couldn’t even be annoyed about smearing the fresh ink on the page or getting it on your shirt cuffs because you had more important things to worry about. Namely, your surprise visitor.

“Fiyero?”

“Present,” he affirmed as he leaned against your doorframe. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Thank you,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

“Much less pink than Galinda’s,” he continued. “I think it’s the only color she owns, honestly. A bit absurd but—”

“What are you doing here?” you repeated.

“I should be asking you that question,” Fiyero said, eyes narrowing in on you. “I went to the library and you weren’t there.”

You cleared your throat. “I was giving you the day off.”

He frowned and stood up from the doorframe. “Who said I wanted the day off?”

“You,” you said. “When you didn’t show up to Doctor Dillamond’s class today.”

Fiyero brushed his hand through the air. “That’s different.”

You looked at him expectantly. “So you skipped the class this project is for, but you don’t want to skip the actual project.”

“That sounds about right, yes.”

“You don’t even do anything whenever we’re together,” you said. “You just stare at me and complain about doing work and ask me about my life and take an hour to write one page of notes.”

“That also sounds about right,” Fiyero said. “I enjoy your presence. Do you not enjoy mine?”

If only he knew the way he’d been making you feel for the past week. He could never know that he appeared in your dream last night.

“...Your presence is fine,” you said. “I just figured I would give you the day off, seeing as we only have one week left until it’s due.”

“How much have you written already without me?” he asked.

“Five pages, but that—”

“You’ve nearly done half of the project without me?” Fiyero interrupted.

“...Yes?” Why did you actually feel bad about this?

Fiyero got closer so he could look over your shoulder at your work, and you found yourself holding your breath at his proximity.

“Do you think you’re doing me a favor?”

“Clearly,” you said. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s over, and the sooner you don’t have to deal with me anymore.” You shrugged. “You said you wanted to ride my coattails anyways, so I figured I would make it easier for you.”

“Just a few days ago you were chastising me for not doing my part,” Fiyero said. “Now you’re not even letting me try?”

“I—” the words stuck in your throat, and again you felt your face heat.

I don’t want to have to think about any of this more than I have to because I’m worried what I’ll realize.

I don’t want to give you any more chances to take me off course because I know I’ll say yes.

I don’t want to be around you longer than I have to because I think I’m starting to like you.

“Yes?”

“I am doing you a favor,” you finally decided. “You don’t have to worry about it. Go ride that horse of yours, or bother other students, or spend time with Galinda. You’ve earned it.”

“Hardly,” Fiyero said. “I’m doing my part, whether you like it or not. We’ll meet at the library tomorrow morning before class like we’ve been doing.”

“I have class at 8 in the morning tomorrow.”

“...Then we’ll do it after class,” he reneged. “I do need my beauty sleep.”

That got a smile out of you, which spurned one from Fiyero in turn. “I think that is one of the only genuine smiles you’ve given me since we started working together.”

“I smile plenty,” you insisted.

“At your books,” Fiyero said. “Not at me.”

“That’s because my books are oh-so-beautiful,” you said. “And they don’t even need beauty sleep.”

He placed his hand on his heart. “You wound me.”

Your smile grew and you set your pen down. “The library after class?”

Fiyero nodded and tapped on your desk as he stood up. “Library after class.”

He was about to go to the door when Coralie poked her head in. “Why is the door— oh! Fiyero!” She straightened up, plastering on a pretty smile as she stepped inside. “What brings you to our corner of Shiz?”

“Doctor Dillamond’s midterm,” he said. “Your roommate here is trying to save all of the fun for herself.”

“That sounds like her,” Cora nodded sagely. “You’re very good to try and keep her from that fate.”

Fiyero pressed his hand to his chest. “I consider it my duty. But I apologize for the intrusion—I’ll leave the two of you be.”

“Oh, stay as long as you want,” she spoke up. “I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind.”

“He’s got things to do,” you interceded. “You’ve got things to do, Fiyero.”

He smiled knowingly. “I certainly do. You lovely ladies have a fine rest of your day.” He looked at you and said your name. “Don’t forget tomorrow.”

“How could I?” you said weakly.

Fiyero chuckled and bowed his head in lieu of more parting words. The second he left, Cora turned to you with wide eyes.

“Don’t,” you warned.

“He came here to talk to you!” she exclaimed. “He found out your room number because he wanted to talk to you!”

“Be quiet!” you exclaimed. “The door is still open—he can probably hear your screeching!”

Coralie shut the door and squealed. “He likes you!”

“We are project partners,” you enunciated. “Nothing more.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s what you think,” she said. “Just like I’m sure that he wants to be more.”

“You’re acting like he isn’t with Galinda,” you said. “She controls this whole school—do you remember what happened to Elphaba when she didn’t like her?”

Cora shrugged. “Sure. But I’ve been hearing there’s trouble in paradise.”

That got you paying attention. “What?”

“I knew it!” Coralie exclaimed—nearly yelled, honestly. “I knew you liked him!”

“Be quiet!” you whisper-yelled. “Oz, what is wrong with you?”

“I knew you liked him!” she repeated. “And he likes you— oh, it is too perfect!”

“He does not like me,” you insisted, “and you are crazy.”

“You didn’t say that you didn’t like him,” Coralie sung, and you screwed your eyes shut.

“Fine!” you finally said. “Fine— I like him. Will you stop now?”

“Of course not,” she said, and you sighed. “How bad do you have it?”

“I don’t have it bad,” you scoffed. “I just— I enjoy spending time with him. And I think he’s kind of cute.”

“Oh, you are full on head over heels,” she mused. “You just don’t know it. It’s okay.”

You groaned as you buried your head in your hands. “I hate you.”

She laughed. “And you like Fiyero.”

“Shut up.” Your words were muffled, but you meant them all the same.

You were comically doomed.

The next day went… shockingly smooth.

Fiyero was in the library when he said he’d be—he was even there before you, much to your surprise and he still had the notebook and pen you’d given him, much to his surprise. He made sure to bring an extra canteen of water for you, because he noticed you never had any with you. You were probably concerningly dehydrated.

He tried to be a more attentive student to you than he’d ever been at any of his classes—not that that was difficult. You explained your outline and all the work you’d already done, what he could do on the last five pages and how to make his writing voice match yours to make a consistent paper.

He wrote notes both on what you knew about Ilara Mayfair (a ridiculous amount, in his opinion) and anything else you thought he needed to know (also a ridiculous amount).

He was impressed most of all, though. No wonder you’d isolated yourself from near the entire student body and stressed over every letter in every sentence in every assignment. You were incredibly intelligent, but you were also able to explain everything in a way that even he understood. Fiyero had never really cared about… well, anything relating to school before he ended up partners with you.

But now, Fiyero found himself surprisingly entranced by it all. He’d always liked your voice, and he had a permanent smile on his lips watching you talk so easily about your passions. It put a spark in your eye and a brightness about you that was usually bogged down by everything else that you stressed about.

You were beautiful, especially when you were happy. And Fiyero had discovered over the past week that you were happiest when you got to talk about what you cared about to an interested audience. He only regretted acting like he wasn’t interested for so long.

Finally, when Fiyero called a break on account of his hands aching (he’d never written this much in his life, and it still was only half of what you did basically every day), and you were eating an apple (that he also brought, because you really didn’t take care of yourself when you were doing work, which was always), he smiled at you.

“You know, we really do make a good team,” Fiyero said.

You swallowed the bite of apple you had in your mouth and cocked your head as you looked at him. “You think?”

“I know,” he nodded. “You’ve done the impossible, darling. You’ve actually made me care about school.”

“Well, I think you’ve done the impossible too.” You lifted the apple up. “You made me care about my health during midterms season.”

“It certainly wasn’t easy,” he said wryly. “You kind of took it all kicking and screaming.”

You shrugged. “I’m not top of our class for nothing.”

“Do you have to stress yourself into misery to be top of the class?” he asked.

“I’m not miserable,” you retorted.

It was when you said things like that that Fiyero really began to worry about you. It was part of the reason he was so intent on staying by your side through this whole project—no matter how dull he found the material—after the first session. He sometimes saw you around campus, usually carrying a stack of books or talking with your roommate.

After Fiyero was paired with you, he wondered why he didn’t see you more before it all, considering how active you were with literally everything school-wise. Then he realized you were likely always in the library, and the only time he’d visited the library was on Galinda’s tour. You were there, well enough, but you took your leave as soon as things started getting rowdy.

A shame, he realized. He wondered what your relationship could have been had Galinda not staked her claim on him so soon.

You weren’t going to take care of yourself, clearly enough, so Fiyero decided—at least for the duration of this project—that he would. It didn’t really matter if you were top of the class if you passed out from stress, exhaustion, annoyance, or a mix of all three. Likely a mix of all three.

He didn’t really anticipate those feelings morphing into genuine affection.

“I seem to recall you saying you dream of your future assignments,” Fiyero said, coming out of his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound like the habit of a happy person.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Everybody has stress dreams.”

“You know, I really don’t think they do,” Fiyero said.

You rolled your eyes as you picked your pen up with your free hand and jotted down a few more sentences. “Sure.”

“On that note,” he said, “why don’t we call it a day?”

“We can’t call it a day,” you said. You took another bite from your apple and swallowed, continuing to write all the while without looking at him. “We’re not finished yet.”

“That is the most casually you’ve said that so far,” Fiyero mused. “I really am making progress.”

You laughed, finally paying him mind. “Progress with what?”

“I’ve been tracking your smiles and laughs this whole time,” he said. “See, this essay was your project, but that was mine—trying to make you enjoy your life.”

“This essay is both of our projects, Fiyero,” you said. “Besides, I don’t think Doctor Dillamond will accept your bar graph of all the times I laughed at you making a fool of yourself.” You frowned. “Or would it be a line graph because it’s over time? Or maybe it could be—”

“Alright,” he interrupted. “You’re going into hypotheticals on my joke. That’s clearly the sign that we need to call it a day.”

“…Fine,” you reneged. “But it’s just a break, not calling it a day. And I get to finish proofreading the rest of the essay when we get back.”

“A compromise,” Fiyero said. “Love it.”

You rolled your eyes as you started gathering your things. “You love everything.”

“Eh,” he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes on you. “Most things.”

You couldn’t help your smile, much as you tried to bite it back. “Whatever.”

Soon enough, you and Fiyero were sitting together by the dock. You let your legs dangle over as you watched the scenery around campus—the ripple of the water, the gentle brush of the wind, the chirping birds that flew around without a care.

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero asked. He also had his legs over the edge, but he’d laid down against the stone.

“You don’t have to push your relaxation propaganda so hard anymore,” you said wryly. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“And I’m grateful for it,” he said. “Someone that works as hard as you do deserves to relax the same amount.”

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times—”

“I know,” he interrupted. He turned his head to smile at you. “I just have to hope that some of it sticks.”

You rolled your eyes, once again unable to hide your smile. “And I have to hope for the same with this paper. Do you think you’ll remember any of this once we turn it in?”

“Oh, but of course. You were the one to teach it to me, after all. I could hardly forget it all.”

“Good,” you said. “Everyone should know about Ilara Mayfair.”

Fiyero chuckled, and you once again fell into comfortable silence.

That was the thing that shocked you the most, you think. Not that you were beginning to like Fiyero, or that you actually liked Fiyero, or that you actually looked forward to spending time with him. It was that you were so comfortable just sitting with him in silence.

It was very difficult to get to the silence, though. Fiyero couldn’t really stay quiet, and you didn’t know if he liked talking or the sound of his own voice. But you found it didn’t really annoy you like it used to.

Great Oz. You really were into him. How embarrassing.

Eventually, when the strain in your wrists and fingers from writing had finally faded, you turned your head to look at Fiyero. “I think it’s time we go back.”

He sighed. “Already?”

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” you said. “Far longer than the breaks I usually take.”

He opened his mouth, likely to say something of the same ‘you need to relax’ ilk, but you held up your hand. “Don’t. Just be thankful you got me away for this long.”

Fiyero smiled, and he pulled himself up off the ground. “I always am.”

He held his hand out, and you stared at him for a moment. “Why do you always do that?”

“Help you up?”

You nodded. “I can do it myself.”

He shrugged. “I told you it was my project to make your life easier.”

“You said it was your project to track my happiness,” you said.

“And they go hand in hand,” he said. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“It happened thirty minutes ago, Fiyero,” you said wryly. “Besides, I remember everything. It’s a gift.”

Fiyero laughed, and you finally took his hand. He pulled you up and once again, you tumbled a bit too close—and again, his hand fell to your waist. He had to be doing this on purpose by now.

“We keep finding ourselves in this position,” Fiyero mused.

Heat flooded your cheeks like usual. “And whose fault is that?”

“Well,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re not exactly pulling away.”

Your mouth opened, trying to think of what words to say when your head was reeling from his mere presence. But then you saw a flash of pink in the background, and your eyes darted away from Fiyero.

Galinda. She was distracted, talking with Pfannee and Shenshen as she went down the stairs. Oz, how did she slip your mind so easily whenever Fiyero was in your proximity? Why did you let him get this close when he was spoken for?

You panicked—nothing less. You tore out of Fiyero’s grasp with a bit too much gumption, and then you stumbled, then you slipped, and then you fell. Fiyero called your name in shock, reaching his hand out, but it was too late. You’d plunged into the water before you could save yourself.

The cold water instantly shocked all your senses, your eyes widening as you gasped out on instinct. Your mouth filled with water and your muscles seized up from the change in temperature—it was so much deeper than you’d imagined, and all your layers of clothing weighing you down were of no use.

You tried your damnedest to ignore the alarm bells going off in your head as you fought against yourself, finally gathering the sense to swim. You kicked your way up to the top, gasping for air once when you breached the surface.

You heard Fiyero yell your name again and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the water from your eyes. When everything finally came into focus, you saw him on his knees, his coat shed and his sleeves rolled up.

His eyes were wide as he reached his hand out, once again saying your name—this time with a certain desperation. “Are you alright?”

You tried to respond but all you could do was cough, trying to expel the water from your lungs. You took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the dock, where an exhale shuddered out of you.

“I— I am so sorry,” he stammered. It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered, and you were too busy hacking up a lung to point it out. “Obviously I didn’t think—”

You held up your hand in lieu of saying something, as you didn’t think you could say something.

This was so stupid, and it was something that never would have happened before you and Fiyero started working together. Your paper was due in two days, you’d only just finished the draft, you still had so much proofreading and rewriting to do, and instead, you were here on the docks soaked to the bone.

And you found yourself laughing.

“Oh, Oz,” Fiyero said. “You’ve lost it.”

You couldn’t refute it, because you kept laughing. You could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, could hear them whispering to each other—likely making fun of you—and it only made you laugh harder.

“Are—” Fiyero chuckled nervously as he said your name, “are you okay?”

“I’m soaked,” you got out through your laughs. “And everyone saw me fall into the water. I’m a fool, Fiyero!”

He was still staring at you in that careful way, as if you were made of glass. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or not.”

“Oh, Fiyero.” You wiped the trailing water off of your face and wrapped your arms around him. You felt him freeze beneath you for the slightest moment—it had to have been the last thing he expected you to do. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Fiyero returned the hug, his movements still unsure. He didn’t seem to care that you were getting him wet, just about your wellbeing. “What— what for, exactly?”

For a moment, you couldn’t look away. His blue eyes were meant to enrapture, his soft lips typically an invitation sealed with a smirk. But for once, Fiyero looked genuine—he wasn’t putting on a performance, or trying to seduce anyone who looked at him. He was genuinely sorry, genuinely confused. It only made you laugh again.

“What for, indeed.” A higher voice pierced through the air, and you separated from Fiyero immediately. Galinda, to no surprise, had found her way over to the chaos you’d created, her compatriots flanking her on either side. She smiled at you brightly, but her whole demeanor was like a violin string pulled taut.

“Galinda,” Fiyero said. “Lovely to see you.” He didn’t seem half as shocked as you at her appearance, but his words fell flat.

“And you as well, dearest.” Her smile turned sickly sweet as she shifted her attention to Fiyero momentarily, taking the opportunity to lace her fingers with his and pull him into a kiss. He pulled away first, but if it affected Galinda, she didn’t let it show when she looked back at you. She batted her eyelashes as she said your name incorrectly. “What was it you were saying?”

The sudden combination of cottonmouth and sour guilt creeping up your throat didn’t really help your already flustered state. She knew what she was doing—but you did too, didn’t you?

She was with Fiyero. You knew that. And though Fiyero danced across the line, you took his hand every time he offered.

“I—” you cleared your throat, attempting a casual smile of your own. “Just that I know why Doctor Dillamond put us together.”

“Excellent,” Fiyero said. “Off-topic, but excellent— are you sure you didn’t hit your head down there?”

“Perhaps you should go to the nurse,” Galinda said. “I’m sure Shenshen could—”

“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted, your smile tightening ever so slightly. You looked at Fiyero. “Meet me at the library tonight, and bring coffee. We’re finishing this project tonight.

“Of course,” he nodded.

You nodded as well, and you started to go. Galinda’s gaze was sugary sweet poison, and you couldn’t take the weight of it anymore.

“Wait,” Fiyero spoke up.

You stopped against your better judgment, and he let go of Galinda’s hand to take his jacket off. He moved closer to you and wrapped it around you. His touch, light but certain, lingered on your shoulders once he’d finished adjusting it, and his gaze stayed on yours

“Until you can change,” he said.

“...Thank you,” you said.

Galinda cleared her throat extremely loudly, her taut smile back. You remembered yourself and stepped away from Fiyero.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you said, already starting on your way. You wouldn’t let him stop you again.

“Tonight,” he agreed, bowing his head in parting.

You only glanced back once you were by the stairs. When you did, you saw Galinda speaking rapidly to Fiyero—you were too far away to hear anything, but she didn’t look happy. When your gaze drifted to him, you found he was already looking at you. Almost subconsciously, you tugged his jacket tighter around you. When you realized what you were doing, you stopped. You averted your eyes immediately and hurried up the stairs.

You weren’t out of breath from exertion.

#fiyero tigelaar x reader #fiyero x reader #wicked x reader #fiyero x you #fiyero tigelaar x you #fiyero movie x reader #wicked movie x reader

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blvdheart · 6 months ago

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SHARED MY BODY AND MY MIND WITH YOU

→ Leon broke up with you because of his emotional baggage, not wanting to drag you down into his trauma-induced misery. He didn’t usually date out of his line of work anyway, he hated himself for involving himself with someone so innocent. But when he gets a voicemail at an awfully late hour and listens to it, he nearly broke driving laws to get to your place. He still loves you, that much is certain. Your body and mind are like a second nature to him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, pwp, one sided breakup, angst, description of leon’s self guilt and sabotage, heavy mentions of marriage, centered around Leon rather than the reader, reconciliation, lovemaking–gentle sex, crying, very small religious snippet, he eats you out, unprotected p in v, implied aftercare + implication of a better future

WC: 5.3k

Note: i think…this is my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. breaking my pink blog theme with this and actually capitalizing letters um…i had to set the tone okay. i actually started working on this in january to cope with some things, but i didn’t make much progress until recently!! the title’s a lyric from the song ‘cruel world’

MASTERLIST

Leon has a rule: never get emotionally involved with anyone who isn’t in his line of work. The reason behind that is self-explanatory. It's too difficult to accomplish. All his baggage holds him down, and he’s always away for long periods at a time and then returns back with body aches all over and has to hibernate for a while. What does he truly have to offer?

He did it anyway.

You managed to romance him, granting him a fleeting glimpse of happiness and a chance at self-love. Lingering caresses, meaningful eye contact, soulful conversations, an audience to his jokes, the key to your heart — you gave him everything.

Breaking up with you was painful, the second it was all said and done and you were out of his sight, he broke down crying. That was what he deserved, that’s what his mind told him.

It was easy for Leon to disappear from your life, just as quick as the snap of his fingers. He was never around that much to begin with. Your efforts in reaching out to him were futile if he was halfway across the world dealing with another abrupt assignment, or if he fell back into the habit of nursing a drink in some run down bar without contacting a soul.

But no amount of alcohol could make him forget about you these days. The memories of you were too strong to be diluted.

“What about this one?” Curiosity had dripped from your question, your fingers gently feathered across the healed up scar on his left shoulder.

Leon was almost an open book when it came to you, he truly cherished honesty in any relationship, whether romantic or platonic. Guilt weighed on him for having to limit certain answers to only the surface details. It felt wrong; it felt like he was keeping secrets from you and keeping you in the dark. But it couldn’t be helped, not when you weren’t in the same line of work as him. Most of the contents of his work were confidential.

After all, at this point the two of you had only been dating for half a year. How could he burden your mind with the harsh realities of everything that wasn’t known by the general public?

The two of you were naked, tangled under the sheets. No sex or anything, simply getting familiar with each other’s bodies and exploring with gentle and cautious hands.

“1998, shot on duty.”

The memories were still fresh in his mind. People say that forgetting a traumatic event is common, people dissociate to cope and shield their brain. It was the opposite for Leon. All the screams plagued his mind like a damn mantra, no way in hell would he ever be able to forget anyone’s voice.

Either that, or his mind made up fantasies about what could’ve been between you both. Domestic bliss. Buying a house together. Shy talks about how many kids you guys wanted. The memories haunted him. He wanted it back.

He even bought a ring. A beautiful one that he was meant to display to you when he sunk onto one knee and popped the question that would hopefully bind the two of you for life. The one that he was supposed to fidget with whenever he held your hand as the two of you planned your wedding, whether it be simple, grand, or to elope.

He kept it safe even after he broke up with you, he couldn’t bear to throw it away because of the sliver of hope that maybe one day he’d still get the chance of putting it on your finger. He felt like a fool. Sometimes he opened the box up to reminisce. It tugged at his heartstrings when he saw how rough his own fingers were in comparison to the smooth metal, from his years of physical exhaustion and training. God, he wished your hands would never get all battered like his.

He thought about you so much that you were the star actress in his nightly dreams.

The worst ones were the nightmares, though. Like the one that had him turning in his sleep tonight.

It all replayed in his mind. Your facial expression when he broke up with you out of the blue — the way the smile on your face had faded into a frown, your glimmering eyes contorting into that of disheartened ones. The way you looked at him with such a concoction of emotions. The pitiful chuckle that escaped your lips along with a nervously spoken ‘what?’ Or maybe it was the prolonged silence afterwards that killed him. It felt like hours until he got a proper response from you, one that was drowned out by the drumming of his own heart and the pulse that formed in his ears.

Usually he got to the end of it, but tonight he was abruptly woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. A blessing in disguise, maybe. Regardless, he was a bit irritated, he had always been such a light sleeper.

“You’re kidding…” Leon let out a heavy sigh, trying to rub the sleep away from his eyes. He didn’t even want to answer, too tired to even think about the possibility of being called to the field. No way in hell did he want to be met with Hunnigan’s voice and some intel he didn’t feel like remembering.

He let the phone ring, and eventually, blissful silence filled the room again. If it was dire, he knew he’d get another call soon.

Instead, he heard his phone vibrate not long after. He muttered out a curse before reaching for his phone, seeing that a voicemail was left. He didn’t bother reading whose number it was. Christ, the message was 5:06 minutes long.

Whatever. He played it aloud, resting his forearm over his face as he listened in.

“Hey Leon, it’s me…”

Fuck.

He fully sat up on his bed, so quickly it could’ve given him whiplash.

“I miss you. Still think about you every day. I don’t know what I did wrong…you probably aren’t even listening to this. I just…I don’t know.” a sigh. “The clock hit 12 and um, well today’s the anniversary of the day you asked me out. Maybe you don’t remember. I think you do though, you were always good with dates.”

Leon knew the voice of a broken person when he heard it.

No. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to let you go and then you’d see how much life had to offer, how any other person could give you a better and more stable relationship.

How could you be hung up on a man like him?

It was instinctual. He shuffled out of bed, body reacting before his mind and reaching for a clean pair of clothes from his closet. He left the voicemail playing in the background, it filled his lonely house. His heart was racing so loudly he couldn’t even hear the sounds of the wind outside or the creak of the floor with every step. All he did was change and brush his teeth before he drove over to you.

Thankfully, the roads were empty and the highway was free of traffic or else surely he would’ve been pulled over.

Thinking rationally wasn’t necessary when it came to you, not when he just got punched in the gut with a load of nostalgia and gut wrenching heartbreak.

He has always been yours, even during the separation. His heart hammered within his ribcage when he pulled into your driveway, his body moving in a hurry out of his car and towards your door. No hesitation.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes, but eventually the door swung open.

Your pretty face filled the focus of his pupils, his expression softening. You looked like a deer in the headlights, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

Oh, my sweet girl. There she is.

His hands itched to reach for you, to hold you in his arms and spin you around, nuzzling his nose against yours like old times — like some romantic drama. He hadn’t watched one in a while, they reminded him too much of you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Leon's hair was messy. It was a sight you had seen many times: his bed hair. Those emotion carrying eyes of his were contrasted with the lifeless bags under them. He came over so damn quickly he hadn’t even taken the time to make himself look composed.

“Leon? What are you…” You couldn’t even finish your thoughts. You felt nothing yet so much at the same time, perhaps from the shock of it all. You brought two fingers to the pulse on your neck to make sure you were awake, and hadn’t somehow fallen asleep after your call and voicemail to him. The thundering pace of your pulse confirmed that you weren’t off in dream land.

“I got your voicemail,” He responded, sounding remorseful. “Had to make sure you were alright. Uh…can I come in?”

You continued staring at him like if he was some sort of supernatural being. If you reached your hand out to touch him, would he disappear? Or perhaps your limb would go straight through him as if he was transparent.

You snapped out of it and nodded. “Yeah, come on in.” Hesitation clouded your tone, not out of wariness but because you had no clue what the hell was going on. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, at least not in person, only through photos and videos you still had saved on your phone from when the two of you were dating (going through them was part of your nightly routine.)

“To be honest…I wasn’t expecting you to even hear my message.”

You stood there awkwardly as he entered, closing the door afterwards. Your apartment still smelled the same, a wave of comfort washed over him despite the circumstances, his eyes darting around at all your belongings. This was once his safe space, like his secret haven.

You sat on your couch, waving him over. Your legs felt like jelly, no way could you be standing for this. He followed, sitting on the couch cushion on the opposite side from you.

“My ringtone woke me up. I thought you were a coworker of mine at first but…I’m glad you weren’t.”

“Glad, really?”

“Yeah.” He gave no further context, at least for that minute.

Silence hung in the air, time became still. Either way, the shared glance between the two of you broke the tension, you were both thinking the same thing. Your minds were linked, seeking reconciliation, every circuit of neurons buzzing with your shared proximity.

He rested his elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. Everything felt surreal, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, afraid he’d disappear.

“I’m…I’m sorry about the way I ended things.” There was a crack in his voice, he was so desperately clinging onto the ideology that he shouldn’t wear all his heart on his sleeve. He failed every time though, his words had wavered.

“I know.” You truly did.

“How?”

“Because I know you, Leon. It hurt, and I found myself wondering why you would just up and leave after what felt like such a meaningful time. But I didn't ever think you did it with mal intent.”

You should be demanding answers, hell, he could even take a few slaps to the face. Maybe his guilt ridden self preferred that to your sweet treatment. Did he even deserve to be met with your understanding? This self-pitying mindset he harbored is what had led to this in the first place.

“You’re right. I didn’t mean to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.” Were his efforts in explaining himself getting across? “I thought it was better this way. I'm…broken.”

Trying to convince him that he isn’t ‘broken’ was futile, all you could do was beautify it instead. You scooted closer to him, clasping one of his hands between yours. “All you see are your faults, but I was seeing you entirely, not just for what you do in your job or the images that keep you up at night.”

His hands felt the same. Calloused in areas he couldn’t help like his knuckles and his palms, but well-kept in the nail department. He looked down at the physical contact, putting his other hand atop yours, his thumb grazing tenderly at your skin. Familiar territory.

“It’s hard not to.” He admitted, his eyes feeling glossy all of a sudden. “My job is my life, it drags into every other part of my life.”

“How did it drag into our relationship?”

He truly didn’t know how to answer that. The times he shared with you were the best experiences of his life. He finally got the chance to pull out his cardboard box full of romantic movies to watch with the lover he had been waiting for his whole life, you. Countless nights spent cooking together in your kitchen, full of laughter and playful bickering, and some harmless food fights. Grocery shopping together with laced fingers, just a sneak peek into domesticity. God, he yearned for its return.

“I don’t know. I constantly had to leave and got no vacation time either. Let’s see…I had to keep a lot of information confidential. It kinda screams ‘this’ll all make a girl run the other way.’”

How wrong he was, he ended up leaving before he could get abandoned, as if that would’ve happened, though, you never wanted him out of your life.

“That wasn’t true for me, Leon. I wanted to be with you. I just hope I wasn’t a burden on you.”

That hurt. A dull ache spread across his chest. He pulled you close, tucking you against his side.

“Don’t say that,” His instruction was soft spoken, his lips brushed against your cheek. You were never a burden, he always shut you out, thinking that his heart was full of thorns and you’d prick yourself if he let you get too close. That, perhaps his sorrow was contagious and his poison would flood your veins.

Words of comfort weren’t his strong suit, but he tried his best. He had to. “You weren’t a burden. Never were, and never will be, okay?”

It felt so good to have you against him, his gaze was set on you, searching for any indicator that you were uncomfortable. You leaned your shoulder against his shoulder though, nuzzling against him. Pensive silence followed.

Even with the somber undertones filling your apartment, your heart was bursting. He was here, back with you. Holding you like he used to do after you had a particularly stressful day at work, or when you had an argument with one of your close ones.

The long separation made familiar carnal desires spark to life, along with the itch to bring them to fruition.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You murmured to him, but your wavering voice caught his instant attention.

You were on the verge of tears, oh dear. If you started sobbing, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back from crying either.

Leon didn’t waste a second, pulling you onto his lap, one of his hands stroking the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around your back.

“What are you thinking about?” He needed to know. You had always been the most verbal, whereas his feelings usually showed on his face or body language.

“About how much I missed you.” You respond, running your hands up and down his arms, squeezing at his muscles. “And how unreal this feels. And…” Your eyes flicker down to his lips. “I wanna kiss you, Leon…and y’know.” Make love. “Like old times.”

Oh.

“Are you sure?” Leon hadn’t intended for the night to play out this way. He needed to make sure you were actually thinking straight with the pool of emotions you seemed to be drowning in. To be fair, he was drowning too.

It was midnight, your bodies burned for one another.

“I am.” You uttered those words with such finality, eyes set on him.

This wasn’t some impromptu longing for his physical connection, you had been craving it for as long as the two of you had been separated. To feel him in the purest and most tender way possible, nestled against one another and eliciting feelings no one else could.

The pads of his thumbs rub circles against the fat of your hips. He's looking up at you, his eyes are unable to hide a flicker of yearning and affection. Expressive, his pupils dilated and his eyebrows slightly raised. He blinked slowly, like a cat showing utmost trust to its owner.

He looks at you like he worships you (he does.) Get him on his hands and knees, he’ll mumble your name like you’re his god and he’s praying to you, all his sins out in the open and his scarred body for you to look over and judge. He’ll be vulnerable with you if that means you’ll forgive his wrongdoings and give him a second chance. You must be a merciful god, no doubt about it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You murmured, cupping his face. His gaze was hypnotic, sending a wave of security down your body. It almost felt as if you traveled to the time before he shattered your heart into pieces of glass.

“Like what?” He couldn’t help it. Not like he had a mirror, anyway. His face was usually tense, brows permanently furrowed and eyes narrowed from being attentive all the fucking time, his lips a straight line, jaw anything but relaxed.

Not right now, though. Never with you. Everything in his body softened and loosened up around you. Well, with the exception of his dick but that was another matter.

“You know what I mean. Like…like you still love me.”

Leon didn’t know what to say. The words died in his throat while every fiber of his being wanted to say ‘I do.’ The same words he could’ve voiced out standing across the altar from you. His brain short-circuited.

His pause came across as ambiguous to you, to mask the pain, you kissed him. Like a chocolate on a hot summer day, he melted in an instant, turning to mush, holding one side of your jaw and matching your pace.

The two of you mingled like two puzzle pieces. Your chest was flush against his, one of your hands finding his hair and pulling on it, earning a drawn out groan from him. It went slow for the first five minutes, some occasional pull backs for breath, shy smiles in betweens, before going back in like the act of kissing was needed for your pulses to continue, your hearts beating as one.

“Mmph.” Your whimper made him shudder, oh how he had missed that noise. His other hand got a bit more confident, resting on the small of your back, moving up towards your ribs then back down, almost resting on your ass.

He felt a surge of heat settle in his groin, aching to give you all the pleasure you deserved, to make you feel cherished and known. To knock any misery out of your head and replace it with euphoric sparks and reassurance. To be one with you again, if you’d have him.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes fluttering open. “Bedroom?”

A nod from you was all it took. He didn’t let you get up, instead holding your ass as he stood up, his lips back on yours as he carried you to your bedroom like he owned the place. His mind still had the spatial layout, it worked out and he eventually placed you onto the middle of the bed oh so delicately.

You knew what was coming, already taking your clothes off in a haste as you heard his belt come undone, the sound of his taking his shirt off, and his boots being kicked off.

It wasn’t long until he was on you again.

Leon took his time to look at your body. He was all too familiar with it, knowing exactly where certain beauty marks were, or the places that were sensitive to even the slightest fan of his breath. His fingertips ghosted over your sides, sucking in a sharp inhale as his eyes roamed all over, studying you as if you were his muse and he was about to draw you. “So beautiful…”

His lips had traveled all across you once upon a time. Leon had a great memory, perhaps one of his best features, though also his downfall. At times like these, it comes in handy. It almost seemed like a hazy flashback to the nights he had you splayed on the bed, pressing his lips against your forehead and making it all the way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He wanted to mimic the memory. “Need to taste you. Can I?”

“God, yes.” You agreed in a heartbeat, body already feeling all tingly at the anticipation.

He littered open mouthed kisses from the middle of your chest, all the way down to your end of your stomach, making your body ignite with flames and mind flood with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. What day was it? Month? Year? You couldn’t remember, just desperately hoping this wasn’t some realistic feeling dream. You’ve had those too often, and if you woke up without him by your side, you felt like you would die from heartbreak.

He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to pull you close. His fingers dug into your thighs as he took another look at his favorite pretty cunt. He missed this. Missed you. Missed having you grind yourself against his face until he couldn’t breathe. Missed having his heart race from the angelic noises you blessed his ears with.

His nose pressed against your clit, applying light pressure as his tongue lapped at your slit, gathering the dew there. Geez, he really got right into it. Your eyes rolled back, your stomach tensing and your back arching. You could die right now by your (ex) lover’s tongue, what a way to go.

On the occasion that he opened his eyes, he’d look up at you through his light lashes — he swore you looked like an angel from his perspective.

“What is this? Your last meal on death row?” You were joking, but god…he really was making your mind go blank, he knew just all the right buttons to press.

“Oh, so you think I’m a criminal?”

Like always, you reached for his hair, pushing it back and hearing him growl out of contentment. He gave your clit gentle sucks before flattening his tongue against it and flicking it, his head moving side to side, repeating the process again and again.

One thing about Leon? He always found a way to turn you on by being vocal. His noises were muffled and sloppy but you could feel the vibration of all his whimpers and growls against you as he took his time eating you out. He was getting off to pleasuring you, and that fact alone made it so much hotter.

Your thighs were trembling, threatening to close in and squeeze his head. Leon placed one of his hands over your lower abdomen, applying light pressure with his palm and coaxing you into your orgasm.

It didn’t take you long to get there, you hadn’t felt a tongue on you in ages, he was your last.

“Leon, I’m—“

He already knew.

“That’s it, make a mess all over my face.” It sounded like a demand but instead it came across as a pitiful and desperate plea.

How many times had he been in this position? Lying on his stomach, your taste on his tongue, chin dripping with his drool and your wetness, feeling your body trembling…he couldn’t even count how many. But it was enough for him to know your body like no other.

He kept going even after your thighs started squeezing in on him, even with the way you unintentionally tugged at his hair enough to have him rutting against your sheets. He made sure to make your orgasm feel good, lapping at you all throughout until he heard a whine leave your lips and he felt you weakly push his head away — he didn’t want to overstimulate you and hurt you.

He finally took a breath, one that filled his lungs with satisfaction as he propped himself up on his elbows before sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his blood pump south with the way you were still composing yourself, your legs twitching all cutely and your torso rising and sinking with each deep breath you attempted to take.

“Do you wanna…” Your eyes flitted down to the prominent tent in his pants, feeling a stirring in your stomach already.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I mean…only if you want to.”

With his belt already in some corner of the room and his fly down, all that was left was discarding his pants and boxers down. He fished his wallet out and pulled a packet from it before doing so.

You were too distracted eyeing his now exposed dick, gulping. It had been a while. But a certain wrapper noise caught your attention. A condom. You had always been careful with him in the past, but you wanted him inside him without any barriers. To feel him entirely, his skin against your insides.

“Don’t, please?”

“But–“

“I need to feel you, Leon.”

“Already being a bad influence on me? What am I gonna do with you?” His jest was met with your roll of eyes, but the corners of your eyes crinkled, happy he was already comfortable enough to bicker a bit.

He pet your head, gazing fondly at you as he awaited your response.

“I just want to feel you as close as possible. I don't know how to explain it. You can pull out at the end…I dunno.”

You didn’t need to explain further, because he felt the same. He kissed your forehead, whispering “okay.”

Getting in between you and in position for missionary, he continued peppering kisses all over your face. He couldn’t hold back, he had so much to make up for, he owed you at least a thousand more. He pushed into you, a breathy moan leaving his lips, it felt like he had just entered the pearly gates. And the way your jaw hung open in a silent gasp told him you felt the same.

“You alright?”

“Mhm, keep going.”

“God, I missed you…” His thrusts made the bed creak, adding to the assortment of sounds of two bodies joined as one: skin against skin, high pitched gasps and occasional throaty groans, nails scratching against Leon’s back and leaving red marks in their wake, a subtle noise, but there nonetheless.

“Yeah? How much?”

“Too much. Could never get you outta my mind.” He admitted, burying his head against your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses all over, smiling when he felt you squirming. “Dreamt about you every night. Every…every morning I woke up, I thought you’d still be by my side.”

His response knocked the breath out of you, God if you could have him closer than physically possible, you would. This was the closest you’d be though, his tip hitting your g-spot, his body flush against yours, it was just the two of you in this never ending universe.

“Leon…Leon…fuck.” You called for him like you needed him to prevent you from crumbling.

He pinned one of your hands to the side of your head and laced his fingers between yours, his head remaining against your other side, raspy grunts and incoherent praises rumbling against your ear. He gently bit your earlobe, tugging at it and sending a shiver down your spine.

Despite all his self doubts, Leon knew how to love, how to send another person to cloud nine and make their head fuzzy with sheer euphoria. He wasn’t fucking you, he was loving you, there’s a clear difference.

His lips trailed to your jawline, eventually reaching your lips and initiating an uncoordinated make out session, the sound of dazed out whimpers and quiet growls mixing together perfectly.

He was getting there, his pace more erratic than before, his hand squeezing yours tightly. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your lips, speaking in between rushed pecks. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

You managed to smile at that. “Yeah? Well you’re the prettiest boy in the world.”

You could’ve said handsome. Or hot. Or cute. But Leon was pretty, that was always the first thing that came to your mind. He was like a model, surely some agency would have tried to recruit him if he were actually in broad daylight more.

“Mm.” He liked the compliment. No more words were exchanged after that, he was focused on feeling you. Feeling the way you took all of him like it was nothing, clearly the two of you were physically made for one another.

There was no going back from this, Leon couldn’t bear the thought of getting a taste of happiness yet again and then falling back into a hopeless pit. He wouldn’t push you away again.

You were already sensitive from the way he had made you cum on his face earlier. You pulled away from his kisses, your head thrashing side to side against the pillow instead, your hips desperately bucking to meet his.

“Leon…”

“Just let go for me, you can do it.”

Moans ripped from your throat, your nails leaving crescent indents on his skin as your body writhed underneath him. Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you came, his own stomach feeling tighter and tighter until he followed suit.

“I love you.” He let it slip at the very end, his mind too dazed and his emotions for you running at full blast. You would’ve replied if not for the way you were in awe, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed, his head tilted back, his mouth let out the raspiest grunts as he pulled out and came. Fuck, he couldn’t be real.

It was only then that Leon’s head cleared. He felt his heart sink to his stomach, had he said something wrong? The moment died down, he felt uncertain about how you’d react. Regardless, Leon took a moment to admire you in your flushed state before leaning down to kiss your head, then lying down beside you and pulling you to his side.

You were all dazed with his confession lingering in your head.

He still loved you. Maybe it was obvious, but hearing it aloud was a completely different feeling.

All the suppressed emotions between the two of you were being put on the spotlight. Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears, you tried to blink them away, but you failed.

Leon wished your eyes hadn’t gotten glossy and that your lips hadn’t tugged into a small frown. It made his heart physically ache. Heavy hearted, that’s what he felt like, swallowing to try to alleviate just how sore his throat felt all of a sudden. Guilt bubbled in his stomach because he knew he was the source of your tears.

He kissed away your tears, welcoming the salty taste of them.

He couldn’t tell you not to cry, he wasn’t in the position to. All he could do was reassure you instead, curling his hand into a fist before rubbing soothing circles onto your back as he watched you curl against him.

“Hey…”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to start crying. I just…you still love me? Did you mean that?”

“It’s okay. Just let it out, I'm here for you.” He had your head tucked underneath his chin. “And yeah…I never stopped.”

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t leaving this time.

Maybe that ring he held onto would find its true owner soon.

You, his sweet girl.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy oneshot #resident evil oneshot

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erika-xero · 2 years ago

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Beware, the long post incoming. Pro tips for artists who work on commissions!

DISCLAIMER: I do not have, like, a HUGE online following and can’t be called a popular or viral artist, but I do have some experience and I’ve been working as a freelance artist for more that five years, so I could share a few tips on how to work with clients with my fellow artists. Scroll down for the short summary!

First of all, you always need to have your Terms of Service written down in a document that is accessible for your potential clients. And by terms of service I don’t mean a set of rules like “I don’t draw mecha, anthro and N/S/F/W”. There is much more into it, than you may think when you first start drawing commissions.

You’ll need to understand how copyright law/author’s rights in your country works (for example, US copyright or Russian author’s rights, be sure to check your local resources). There are a bunch of sites where you can actually read some legal documents (. I know it might be boring, but TRUST me, you WILL need this knowledge if you choose this career path.

Russia, for example, is plagued with shops selling anime merchandise. The merchandise is usually printed somewhere in the basement of the shop and the shop owners literally rip off other people’s intellectual property. If the artist ask them to remove their IP from the shop the owners usually try to fool them with lies about how the IP works. They will tell you, that you have to register copyright on every single drawing and if you don’t do it anyone can reproduce and sell your artwork. In reality, copyright law in most countries simply doesn’t work this way. Once you create an original work and fix it, take a photograph, write a song or blog entry, paint an artwork, you already are the author and the owner. Yes, there are certain procedures of copyright registration, which is only a step to enhance the protection, but you become an author the very moment you create a piece of art, and no one have a right to take your creation from you. Knowing your rights is essential.

Some of your commissioners may try to scam you too, but most of them might simply not be aware of how copyright law works. I literally had people asking me questions whether or not the character I am commissioned to draw becomes MY intellectual property. I literally had to convince the person (who was legit scared, since the commissioned piece was going to be a first image of his character ever created) otherwise. If you have an idea of the character written down or fixed in any other form such as a collage, a sketch, or a concept art -- the character is yours. Artist may have rights to the image they create, but not the character itself. Your potential commissioner must acknowledge that their characters, settings and etc. is still theirs, while your artwork is yours, if your contract doesn’t state otherwise. You can sell the property rights on your artwork to your commissioner if you want, but it is unnecessary for non-commercial commissions. And I strongly advice you to distinguish the non-commercial commissions from commercial ones and set the different pricing for them. Even if you sell ownership of your artwork to your commissioner, you can not sell the authorship. You will always remain an author of your artwork, thus you still have all the author’s rights stated in the legal documents.

Another thing that is absolutely necessary to be stated in your terms of service is information whether (and when) it is possible to get a refund from you. You absolutely have to write it down: no. refunds. for finished. artworks.

You have already invested time and effort to finish an artwork. The job is done and the money is yours. I’ve heard stories of commissioners demanding refund a few months later after the commission was finished and approved by the commissioners, because, quote “I do not want it anymore”. Commissioning an artist doesn’t work this way, artwork is not an item purchased on shein or aliexpress that can be sent back to the seller. It is not a mass production. It is a unique piece of art. Example: My friend once drew a non-commercial commission for a client who tried to use it commercially later on. She contacted him and reminded of the Terms of Service he agreed with, offering him to pay a fee for commercializing the piece instead of taking him to the court or starting a drama. He declined and suddenly demanded a full refund for that commission via Paypal services. My friend contacted the supports and showed them the entire correspondence with that client. She also stated that the invoice he paid included a link to the Terms and Service he had to agree with if he pays that invoid. The money were returned to her.

However, partial refund can be possible at the certain stage of work. For example, the sketch is done, but something goes horribly wrong. Either the client appeared to be a toxic person, or an artist does not have a required skill to finish the job. I suggest you keep the money for the sketch, but refund the rest of the sum. It might be 50/50 like I suggested to my clients before (when I still could work with Paypal), but it really depends on your choise. I suggest not doing a full refund though for many reasons: not only you make yourself vulnerable, but you also might normalize a practice harmful to other artists this way.

The main reason why full refund when the sketch/line-art are done must not be an option is that some clients may commission other artists with lower prices to finish the job. This brings us to the next important point: you absolutely need to forbid your clients from altering, coloring or overpainting your creation or commission other artists to do so. This also protects your artwork from being cropped, changed with Instagram filters or even being edited into a N/S/F/W image. Speaking of which. If you create adult content, you absolutely need to state that to request such a commission, your commissioner must at least be 18/21 years old (depending on your country). And as for the SFW commissions you also have to state that if someone underage commissions an artwork from you it is automatically supposed that they have a parental concern.

There is also a popular way to scam artist via some payment systems, called I-did-not-receive-a-package. Most of the payment systems automatically suppose that you sell goods which have to be physically delivered via postal services. This is why it is important to state (both in the Terms of Service and the payment invoice itself) that what commissioner is about to receive is a digital good.

And the last, but not the least: don’t forget about alterations and changes the commissioner might want to make on the way. Some people do not understand how difficult it may be to make a major change in the artwork when it is almost finished. Always let your commissioners know that all the major changes are only acceptable at early stages: sketch, line-art, basic coloring. Later on, it is only possible to make the minor ones. I prefer to give my commissioner’s this info in private emails along with the WIPs I send, but you can totally state it in your Terms of Service. I do not limit the changes to five or three per commission, but I really do appreciate it when I get all the necessary feedback in time.

To sum this post up, the info essential for your Terms of Service doc is:

- The information on whether or not your commissions are commercial or non-commercial. If they are non-commercial, is there a way to commercialize them? At what cost?

- The information on author’s and commissioner’s rights;

- The information on whether (and when) refunds are possible;

- The prohibition of coloring, cropping, overpainting and other alterations;

- The information on whether or not you provide the commissioner with some physical goods or with digital goods only;

- Don’t forget about your commissioner’s age! If you work with client who is a minor, a parental consern is required. And no n/s/f/w for underage people!

- You may also want to include that you can refuse to work on the commission without explanation in case you encounter a toxic client or feel like it might be some sort of scam.

- I also strongly suggest you work with prepay, either full or 50% of total sum, it usually scares off the scammers. I take my prepay after me and my client agree on a rough doodle of an overall composition.

- I also include the black list of the themes: everyting offensive imaginable (sexism, homophobia, transfobia, racism, for N/S/F/W artists it also might be some certain fetishes and etc). Keep your reputation clean!

- Ban N/F/T and blacklist the commissioners who turn your artworks into them anywayss, don’t be shy <3

These are the things that are absolutely necessary but are so rarely seen in artists’ Terms of Service that it makes me sad. Some of these tips really helped me to avoid scams and misunderstandings. I really hope it helps you all!

#artist's terms of service #terms of service #tips for artists #useful info #useful for artists #art #artist #artworks #artists for hire

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theshitpostcalligrapher · 1 month ago

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ASKBOX IS OPEN REQUESTS ARE OPEN (NOV 17, 3PM-9PM EST) HERE ARE THE RULES

ground rules:

1) Funny- the request needs to be humorous, memes usually the most popular but dnd in jokes and other shitpostery is welcome. i abide by the MBMBAM NO BUMMERS rule - there are plenty of sad/deep/beautiful calligraphers out there who’d be happy to work with yall, but this isn’t that sort of channel

2) Length - aim for no more than 75 characters a request, my cue cards are only so big so I can only fit so much on each one and still not look like garbage. There is a little leeway but if you send me smth with like 120 characters it aint getting written

3) Amount of Requests - I am trying to be fair but i am one person running almost the ENTIRE thing, logistics, tech, etc, I have twitch mods and a roommate for retrieving things and that's it. In order to be fair, please restrict yourselves to 3 requests per person to let everyone have a shot, if you send in more i will ctrl-f your username and pick my favourites

4) Content - I will not do anything I consider under the umbrella of general assholery - this includes racial slurs, edgelord bullshit, exclusionist jackassery etc. Please be kind to each other. Please let me know if I’ve taken a request that is some incredibly obscure piece of assholery, someone once tried to slip a really obscure antisemetic piece of slang by me once

5) Repeats - I keyword tag EVERY SINGLE piece i’ve ever done on this blog, if you think I might have written smth already but aren’t sure, the /search/[keyword] is your friend, check if i’ve done your request before

the askbox is theshitpostcalligrapher.tumblr.com/ask , not a dm or submission to the blog. I’ll close submissions too so people don’t get the boxes confused. DM me for any actual clarifications, kind words, etc so they don’t get swallowed up by the behemoth of my askbox for months, and if you want to give me live encouragement the twitch link is right there, and is the ideal way to inquire more about any of the day's rules.

If you want to jump the ENTIRE queue and get your card done immediately, there are ways to donate on the twitch stream to get your request done with an ink of your choice. You can still submit 3 free requests in addition to what you pay for.

I’ll be streaming the entire time the askbox is open on twitch @ theshitpostcalligrapher, trying to get as many of these done today as possible live. Once 9PM EST hits, the askbox will close but if you get your request into the askbox by then, it will be done eventually as I always have 4 cards up per day.

Here’s the link to my twitch, we’ll start a little after 3 o’clock.

twitch_live

#calligraphy #shitpost #twitch

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b4tboys · 2 years ago

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➣ a new year’s kiss

pairing: ayato, albedo, alhaitham, aether x gn!reader

summary: the countdown begins and you unexpectedly have someone asking to be your new years kiss

notes from lee: this one goes out to all my introverts and people that don’t like parties. i don’t either but there’s no new years kiss waiting for anyone sitting in bed at midnight yk + idk what even transpired while i was writing this and idk if it’s ooc since it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything so enjoy? AND wishing for all of you to have an amazing new year! i’m super thankful for all of y’all to be supporting me on this blog and yeah! love you guys immensely 🫶

it’s not normal for you to be at a party new year’s eve but your friend has insisted. saying “new year, new you!” and promptly whisking you away to some party.

you know nobody and the whole party seems to drag on for far too long. the countdown is closing in on zero and most hold their partners close in anticipation for the new year’s kiss tradition.

you know that there probably wasn’t anyone here that would ask to kiss you and you’re much too shy to ask someone yourself. but unknown to you, there’s someone making their way across the room right now, determined to ask you for a kiss.

ayato:

you stick to the wall with a cup in hand as the countdown starts. you expect nothing because that’s how it’s been every other year, but unexpectedly there’s someone cupping your cheek

“do you mind?” he asks and you shake your head no and as the tv and people scream happy new year, the stranger places his lips on yours

it’s a short peck but you enjoy it nonetheless. you look up at the man who had just kissed you to find it’s kamisato ayato

he’s extremely gorgeous and the frequent topic of discussion amongst your friends for his looks and money

you think you’ve maybe had a class or two with him but nothing to ever warrant getting to know him

“thank you for making my new year memorable…” he trails off as a way to ask for your name

“on contrary i should be saying thank you. i’m (y/n), it’s nice to meet you or should i say kiss you?” you laugh at your own joke awkwardly and you’re ready for him to leave and go back to his friends at this point

however, he continues to talk to you, “you know, there’s a common saying about sharing a kiss on new years. it’s something along the lines of having a good relationship with the person you kiss.”

he pauses to take note of your reaction before continuing “so i believe that means we will have a good relationship ahead of us, that is if you will go out with me?”

albedo:

you’ve been sitting out on the patio waiting for your friend to be finished because archons knows you were done the moment you got here

parties are not for you. they are overwhelming and teeming with people you don’t know and awkward social situations. you wish you had stayed at home and celebrated by yourself, if at all

it’s cold outside and unfortunately you left your coat inside but it’s too much work to go in and come back out. so you sit with your knees tucked into your chest and wait

that is until someone drapes a coat around your shoulders. “you looked cold. sorry if i’m overstepping your boundaries.”

you turn to say thank you, but the words don’t seem to come out as you can only focus on how pretty the boy in front of you is

“it seems like parties aren’t your thing either. i’m albedo by the way. i’m not fond of making friends at these kind of things but…” he trails off unsure of how to finish his thoughts

“no, no i get it! you never know what types of people attend these things.” you laugh awkwardly before sticking out a hand for him to shake and introducing yourself, “i’m (y/n). and thanks for the jacket but i would feel terrible if you were cold too.”

you shrug off the jacket and fold it over your arm for him to take but he just smiles and pushes it back your way. “i don’t get too cold actually. i just take it so my friends don’t worry and to offer to pretty people.”

you laugh in disbelief but don’t say anything. you put the coat on again, thankful that it is providing some warmth

you look inside as you hear people start to countdown and steal a glance towards albedo

you would ask him the question but you’ve just met him and you know you’re not bold enough to ask even if he had been flirting with you just a moment ago

luckily you don’t have to do anything. albedo reaches out to find your hand, “may i have the honor of being your new year’s kiss?”

normally you would say no, he’s a stranger after all, but even being at a part was not normal for you, so you nod

he leans down to where you sit and puts his face close to yours waiting until the countdown reaches zero. and when it does, his warm lips meet yours and you can feel the smile on his lips as he kisses you

alhaitham:

you’re in the kitchen when he approaches you. he looks over at something before saying anything and you’re almost tempted to just leave

“hi. i’ll get straight to the point. i made a bet with my annoying roommate that involves kissing you at midnight. i’m getting $500, a night of peace, and a bottle of wine. if you agree, you get half. if not no worries, i’ll find another way to kick him out.”

you almost want to laugh at the comical situation you’re in. there’s no way this is real, a good looking guy offering to pay to kiss you? “is he that bad? and i don’t know you, what makes you think i would agree?”

he raises his eyebrows and smirks, “i’m alhaitham. i attend the sumeru academia and am double majoring in ancient history and linguistics. i like to read and i work at the library on campus. that should be sufficient, no?”

he ends his little summary of himself and looks back once again and this time you follow his gaze. he’s looking at the tv to see how much time is left in the countdown.

you only shake your head at him, with a slight smile. what harm was there in letting an attractive guy kiss you and then pay you for it?

“i expect my pay by the end of the week.” you tell him and his eyes seem to light up if only slightly at your agreement

when the countdown reaches zero he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips onto yours. his lips are warm and pull away quicker than you would like.

you can definitely hear a mortified “NO” over the shouts of everyone else and alhaitham only laughs instead of searching for the voice

he takes out his phone and hands it to you so you can give him your number and you do the same. “$250 and a date, yeah?”

you tilt your head in confusion, a date? he said nothing about that earlier

he smirks once again and explains, “i did say half of my earnings and half a bottle of wine shouldn’t be enjoyed alone.”

aether:

he’s knelt on the floor when you almost step on him, either knocked down or looking for something, but you try not to question it

“oh my archons, i’m so sorry! i didn’t notice you, um is there anything i can help you with.” you extend a hand out for him to grab and help pull him up and he takes it

“sorry, i’m looking for my sister. i didn’t notice where she went and was just a bit worried about her.” he reaches his hand back to scratch at the back of his head.

he introduces himself and then describes what she looks like and as you turn to help him look he grabs your wrist and turns you back around

“i’m sorry, that was a lie. she’s standing with the rest of my friends who told me i need to come over here and talk to you. they’re sick of listening to me talk about how pretty you are.” he sighs and is flushed red at the confession and moves his gaze to the floor

your eyes widen and you don’t even know what to say. “seriously? good thing i think you’re pretty cute too.” you smile and he picks up his head

he looks anywhere but you and is still flushed. “would you mind if i kissed you at midnight then?”

you just shake your head at the shy boy, but you still agree. when the countdown reaches zero his kisses you and you can hear his friends chant his name and cheering him on

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anim-ttrpgs · 1 month ago

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How much was the Dresden Files an inspiration for this game?

Literally 0! I've actually never read it, though Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy does get compared to Desden Files a lot!

Probably our biggest inspiration is an old 1970s ‘monster of the week’ show called Kolchak: The Night Stalker, and my own personal fascination with historical folkloric monsters. This is one of the reasons/ways that Eureka really splits from most other “urban fantasy” like Dresden Files, Vampire: The Masquerade, etc. A vampire isn’t a member of a secret blood-drinking society-controlling sect that is kept top-secret by every world government, they’re a thing that happens, and a person. Supernatural mysteries aren’t something that’s up to an elite Vatican paramilitary task force or specialized vigilante monster hunters that keep society safe by sniffing and snuffing out all the abnormal dangerous people, they’re up to some nosy guy who might not even be able to prove they’re supernatural.

And that because a vampire is a person, they might be the nosy guy who can’t prove that what they’re pursuing is supernatural either. This gives us so much more space to explore particular themes like abnormality, disability, religion, mental illness, poverty, how badass vampires are, etc.. Things which affect people who live within society rather than being some otherworldly force invading from outside it.

Since it’s late and I’m not supposed to still be working, here’s a few other posts I’ve written on some of these themes.

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the-cookie-of-doom · 9 months ago

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Cookie's Fic Recs

I feel like no one really does rec lists anymore! But last night I was feeling and sappy and mushy and decide to put together my own little list of fics I love. These are in no particular order, and they don't follow any real theme/tropes other than I dearly love them all, and you should definitely give them a read!

*I tried to tag everyone I could find a blog for, but if I missed anyone, please let me know I can tag them!

The Instinctual Gravitation Towards Warmth by kimkhimhant (@kimkhimhant)

This is my comfort fic. No joke, this is what I read when I want to die. It’s angsty as all hell, it’s made me cry, but it is so indescribably good. Kim is an addict going through recovery, finding love and family along the way. He hits rock bottom—arguably multiple times—but always claws his way back, always with the support of the people that love him. It’s such a beautifully written and cathartic story, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it. But it’s almost certainly the fic I’ve reread the most.

Error in the Code by BlackwaterVial (@blackwatervial)

Sneaking this VegasPete onto my otherwise KimChay list bc it altered me. I think most people already know what it is, but jic: it’s a sci-fi/cyberpunk/android AU, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever read. I go feral for androids and this fic delivers in all the best ways. The world building alone makes me weep. But all of the characters interactions, the way we get such an in depth feel for everyone despite the limited PoV, and the most satisfying take I’ve seen on android artificial intelligence ever—I can’t recommend this story enough.

Idiots & Idioms by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical. This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical.

Silver for Truth by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This fic is the Kim & Khun vs. Tawan team-up we deserve. Kim is a ruthless, demented bitch, that's too cool to beat Tawan to death bc what if he messes up his wrists right before a show?? Big, get 'im. Kim is the feral-est cat ever, leaving behind evidence and bodies for Kinn bc saying "hey bro, I still love you/look out for you" is too much emotion for him. The fic is also from Tawan's PoV which also makes it the funniest thing ever, for reason that I won't spoil <3

The Wiked Lies We Live by shubaka (@shubaka)

Oh my god, this fic. Canon divergence (technically??) where most things happen as normal... except KimChay have been bodyswaped at the start of it. The little twists Shu puts on the events of canon, given it isn't the correct characters experiencing them (such as Big being very confused about why Kim is suddenly nice to him??) are so much fun.

A Portrait of Affection by froginthesun (@froginthesun)

Kim is an artist and Chay is the part time nude model he hires. ‘Nuff said right there, except no it isn’t, this fic is beautiful. Kim’s frustration with his craft is palpable, and so is the way he rediscovers his passion through Chay. The writing is wonderfully detailed, every chapter felt like walking through a museum. And tension slowly building between them—unf.

Sunshine in My Closet by moneskin

This is an A/B/O AU that is so satisfying to read. Typical hilarious boundary violations (Chay stealing Kim’s clothes, a bewildered Kim handing over a freshly worn outfit, having barely any idea who this strange kid is) characteristic of the AU, but then the story also delves deeper into more serious topics. Chay has a history of abuse from a past alpha that he has to learn how to navigate with Kim, who is incredibly patient and works hard to make Chay feel safe and loved. Overall a very sweet and comforting read. Seriously, this fic makes me melt.

Your Body Feels Like Disrespect by Blue_Jay (@bluejayfiction)

This fic is so funny because it begins with Kim blurting out, in the middle of an Important Mafia MeetingTM, that he and Chay aren’t having sex, and then wanting to die about it. Followed by Kim’s family trying very hard to both support and terrorize him. It’s hilarious, sexy, and one of my favorite reads when I need a pick me up. (Bless Kinn’s determination to be a Good and Supportive Brother, and Vegas for being the Worst Person Ever.)

In Silent Screams (In Wildest Dreams) by BelladonnaWyck and StratsWrites

This is definitely a darker fic. There’s DubCon, Kim is generally Sketchy, but it’s very hot. And I love explorations of his character where he isn’t just outwardly psychotic and cruel. This fic shows the kind of dark that I think Kim could have been, if you just tilted his character a little to the left. He still seems very much the way he is in canon, but he’s also… a lot more calculating and cold, sometimes. I love it.

Forget-me-always by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

I cannot sing the praises of this fic enough. I think it’s probably tied for IGTW for my most-read fics. I’ve probably read this one more often in reality, but only bc it’s shorter. But oh my god, does it hurt. Kim gets struck with amnesia post-break up, does a little light stalking, and gets Chay to help him learn/remember who he is. In the process realizes that wow his life sucks, and there’s no way he wants to go back to it. Especially if he’s the kind of person that hurt Chay. He would rather start over. (Ofc, he doesn’t get to). This fic makes me cry, it’s so good

Coffeehouse Play by AirgodSLV

This is a canon divergence AU that I adore. The KimChay characterization is on point. I love that despite everything going on around them, they also get to be two boys that hang out and play videogames and try to shove each other off the couch while Porsche makes dinner. Given the age difference it’s so easy to make Kim Older and MatureTM, but he’s still a kid, and this story never once forgets that. It felt so honest and true to his character that Kim does have a lot of plans, and he’s very smart, but he’s also still so young, and sometimes shit just goes wrong.

Want and Need by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

God, this fic. T h i s f i c. Post-canon Chay goes to therapy and becomes a camboy (in that order) and it’s delicious. Watching the steady breakdown of his and Porsche’s relationship is so satisfying. Everything one of them does to make things worse feels awful, but is so in character that it’s hard to be mad at them for their decisions. Kim readily giving up control if it means he can be with Chay, and Chay getting a crash course in how to dom. All of it is just. So good. This is such a good fic

Your Look, Through This Lens by WildelyDawn (@wildelydawn)

AU where Chay becomes Kim’s photographer. This fic emotionally hobbled me. Just a fair warning. You will cry. But that said, the ending isn’t nearly as sad as the tags would have you believe! At least in my opinion. I think it’s fairly open/hopeful, and beautiful either way. I love the way this fic shows how Kim balances being Wik while also being part of the mafia. And I love how temperamental he is; always hot and cold, while remaining pretty even as far as how he expresses himself. Always very aloof/detached, just out of reach, with Chay never really sure where he stands/what Kim wants. But at the same time the fic happens just before Kim gets a big break, and the subtle ways he shows his excitement and nerves as things start coming together—it’s wonderful.

Love’s a Two-Way Dream by giraffeter (@giraffeter)

This fic is dark. Kim atticwife’s Chay and it’s not a good time. But!! It’s not just dark for the sake of it; Kim is a genuine sociopath, yes, but it unfolds slowly. You get a sense of creeping dread as he does things that are just a little bit off, until finally the Big Bad Thing happens. At first he seems normal, playing the part of good and respectful boyfriend. But it just goes downhill from there, and I love every word of it. The ending especially is very satisfying.

In the Dark of the Night by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

Not to recc everything Bard writes, but… This is a rape recovery fic that I feel handles the subject matter incredibly well. There’s no gratuitous rape scenes, and even with the flashbacks, I don’t remember any of them being incredibly detailed. I think Bard handled the fic with incredible respect and grace. This is another one that’ll make you cry. The way Chay handles his past trauma while trying to have a relationship with Kim is so painfully real. And so is the way Kim wants to help him, but doesn’t really know how. But they figure it out together, and it’s amazing. (Also Kim acquires a stabby child in the form of an OC that I adore.) I just love the path Chay's recovery takes in this fic, it's so visceral and relatable. It's all around just. So good. I love this fic for the same reason I love IGTW and it's because both fics show an excellent depiction of recovery.

Chains and Crowns, A Flower Can Both Make by Sweet_William (@sweet-william-writes)

Incredibly Regency AU. Historical AUs are some of my all time favorites, and this is everything I didn’t know I needed. Sweet_William captures the essence of an Austen-esque style while still making this feel like the KinnPorsche characters. Chay is wonderfully feisty, Kim is delightfully complex, and the various family interactions always had me cackling.

Simple Little Secrets by CorvusCloudburst (@cloudburst-ink)

Chay sees the future when he touches people. Kim thinks he’s either insane, a spy, or a conman. Oh, and Chay’s visions of Kim? Always sex-related. The shenanigans are endless. What more do you need?? They’re both crazy4crazy and it’s my favorite thing ever. Their banter is snappy and fun, the writing is sexy, and it never once gave me second-hand embarrassment despite Chay’s horrible situations.

#cookie speaks #kimchay #kinnporche the series #fic rec #anyway i love all of you #I hope this makes people's days a lil brighter #<3<3<3

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pendingnomdeplume · 9 days ago

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pairing: hozier x gn!reader rated: T (language)

PROMPT: A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

“Five minutes!” A voice crackles over the radio clipped to your belt, yet you’re undeterred as you continue to stare Andrew down. It’s a stand-off of sorts—the natural progression of a confrontation after he made some snarky comment under his breath, and you whirled around on him to finally, finally ask him what his fucking problem is with you.

“I seem to be the only person you can’t stand on this entire crew, and I just want to know why,” you say, your tone is low and restrained as you attempt to keep anyone else from hearing on the other side of the dressing room door. The rest of the band is waiting in the wings, but the pounding footsteps of crew members dashing by makes you nervous.

Andrew glances between the door and you. His mouth opens and closes, but neither an excuse nor an answer comes out. Instead, he runs an agitated hand over his frizzy hair and sighs loudly.

“I don’t know…” He trails off, eyes still averted away from your heated stare.

“You don’t know…what, exactly? Don’t know what I’m talking about? Bullshit. You absolutely fucking do. Don’t know why you hate me so much? Then, please, figure it the fuck out. I’m here to do a job, and it’s really hard to personally assist someone when that person is being a total fucking dickhead all the time! Christ Almighty, I’ve only ever heard good things about you, and yet I’m somehow the one that gets this shitty, snarky version of y—”

His hands are on your face before you even realize he’s stepped closer, too caught up in your own rant to pay attention. His touch is firm, squishing your cheeks as he tilts your head to force your own gaze upward.

It happens in the blink of an eye. You feel the brush of a kiss against your lips before he pulls away and puts distance between you. His expression is full of worry, an apology already on his tongue as you stare blankly. His mouth is moving, but you’re not comprehending anything he says as your face burns. You can still feel the ghost of his touch as though it’s imprinted on your skin.

Andrew is still rambling when you reorient yourself. “...and, if you’re completely done with me and this whole thing, I get it, and I won’t blame you for leaving. But I can talk to the tour manager, and maybe we can put you somewhere else? I’m sure Allison would love to have someone, and you wouldn’t have to see me or deal with me for the most part, and you could still work with the band because I know they love you. I’m just so, so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking doing that when I’ve been awful to you, I don’t deserve the kindness or patience you’ve extended to me, and I don’t—I’m sorry I fucked this up. I didn’t know what to do.”

You swallow audibly. “Didn’t know what to do about what, exactly?”

There’s the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he replies. “Feelings. Not great at ‘em. Obviously.”

Annoyance buzzes along your skin, but you ignore it as you comprehend what he’s actually saying. “You…have feelings. For me.” It’s less a question and more a statement.

“Correct,” he nods.

“And your plan to deal with that was to bully me like you’re 12 years old?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t exactly a plan. More that it just…happened that way.”

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this. Of him.

“Jesus, Andrew. Did you want to pull on my pigtails while you’re at it? Grown-ass man…”

You catch the shift in his expression—the way his shoulders relax just slightly, the way he allows himself a small, cheeky smile as he shrugs and replies. “More than happy to do so if you ask.”

There’s something about that response—about the way he smiles at you, eyes crinkling in genuine joy and relief that you’re not shouting abuse at him or leaving the tour altogether—that spurs you forward. A rough tug on the lapels of his grey suit jacket clues him in quickly, and suddenly you’re pressed back against the dressing room door as he kisses you like a man possessed. Your hand automatically comes up to rest at the nape of his neck, unable to bite back a whine as his tongue slides against yours, as his hands grip your waist and threaten to slide up your shirt.

A banging sound reverberates through your chest, startling both of you until you’re springing towards opposite sides of the room. The door swings open, and a miserable-looking tech pokes his head in and points at Andrew with a frown.

“You! We gotta go! Only a minute!” The tech is gone in a flash, the sound of his words echoing down the hall as he jogs back towards the stage.

Andrew can only choke out an apologetic sound with a desperate flail of his hands, and you wave him off with one hand while the other covers your grin. “Go, go, go, we’ll talk later. Go be a rockstar or whatever.”

He snorts, and you barely catch the, “Hardly a rockstar,” as he jogs out of the room.

#hozier fic #hozier x reader #sailor scout prompts #scout has a backlog

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cursecuelebre · 1 month ago

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Roman Spirituality

I always wanted to make a blog about this topic because ever since I’ve heard about the Romans and their history that they copy and pasted Greek religion and their gods and such, I never understood it. This is a peninsula filled with people from different tribes and kingdoms before they synchronized their traditions with the Greeks. They had their own indigenous culture, gods, goddesses, and traditions. There is evidence of this and yes there is a few missing pieces but overall it proves that the Romans and the people living on the peninsula had their own culture. I will break it down in segments or try to at least explain this is mainly focusing on Rome than other kingdoms in Ancient Italy but feel free to jump around it's going to be a long blog, but I hope I did do my diligence of discussing this.

Romans weren’t the only people living on the Italian peninsula.

When we think of Ancient Italy and its history we usually think of Roman Empire and how could we not. The Romans accomplished many things, became the largest empire, influence many rulers, help flourishing Christianity. But before the Republic and the imperialism Rome wasn’t Rome, in fact Rome was a small little kingdom called Latium that resided in central western Italy. Latium - meant “Wide” or “Flatlands” and rested on the left bank of the Tiberius river And much like how Greece was it was a city state filled with many other kingdoms and such next to them.

Tuscans (more advanced politically and culturally). Commonly known as the Etruscans this considered to be the first Italic tribe and the oldest one with their written language inspiring Latin and their written language was similar to that of runes. Many of their political, traditions, religion was adopted or influenced by the Romans more so than Greeks. For instance Tinia their supreme God came to be known as Jupiter. Latins the tribe that will soon become the seat of the Roman Empire uniting itself with Samnites, Umbri from Umbria, Ligures, Oscans or the Osci, Sabines, Apuli, Brutti, Volscians, Lucanians or Lucani and the celts also settled on the Italian peninsula as well as Greek colonists. These tribes had their own languages and cultural traditions, but out of them the Romans took most inspiration from the Sabines and the Etruscans culturally and politically other than the Greeks.

Indigenous Roman Polytheism

Now when I say indigenous, I mean what the original people of Italy believed in during the Iron Age and trying to prove that the Roman gods are originated from Latium is difficult and not logical because remember people share and merge together and Italy is a peninsula and not much room of spacing out of tribes, they were living literally next to each other. However, even if they adopted similar beliefs and traditions, tribes were not the same at times didn’t speak the same language or believed the same way. The best way to compare it to is how in indigenous Americans, yes, they are on the same continent they may share similarities, but they still believed different religions, spoke in different languages, had different cultures. However, regarding with Rome specifically, in rise of the Roman Empire and Italy or Roma became united these beliefs tend to merge into one and adapting them.

So unfortunately, there is not many stories or information on Latium’s religious practices that hasn’t been influenced by outside forces. However, before it has been found that Latium was more animistic than believing in actual human representation of the divine. Animistic and Animism derives from Latin ‘anima’ meaning soul.

Numa

There is a concept called Numen or divine life within each object and such this was carried on in the History of pre-Christian Rome. For instance, they believe springs, rocks, mildew, the air, doors, hinges, etc. had divine life to them. Numa comes from the King Numen who was a great king that created the foundations of religion in Rome also politically. Even created Rome’s first calendar and establishing the Vestal Virgins. It is said he was an agent of the gods and had direct communication with them. Numen became deified and worshipped for his Wisdom and piety.

Before they had human depictions and originally may didn’t see their gods as human alike in appearance rather used metals to represent Mars, rocks or wood from sacred trees for a specific god, their deities were nature itself. It was until they were inspired by Greeks and their Sicilian neighbors as well Etruscans when they adopted a more human appearance for visually depicting the gods.

Latium was also a port with many different outside influences go into their culture very early on and this is most likely why they were inspired by the Greeks. The Mycenaean Greeks colonized parts of Italy and trading with them. When the Romans were adopting similar beliefs and ideas of the Greeks there were resistance of the Latin people wanting to stick to their indigenous beliefs and not wanting to merge with the Hellenism. But they (The Romans) when growing their empire, they did adopt religious beliefs and traditions from Sabines who were on the other side of the Tiber River, it’s said some goddesses were adopted such as Sabine moon goddess called Lala that the Romans called Luna.

Animism in Roman society

Now it be forever taking a god one by one from the Romans to see if they came from an indigenous source is hard and will take hours plus I have a couple of blog posts about specific Roman deities. But rather look at the unique nature of examples of Animism within Roman society certain concepts are link to gods.

Ancestors

Ancestral worship was very prevalent within Roman society and religion. From family members, kings, emperors, friends, even to pets the romans revered their dead. Even had festivals for them and there are three special kinds of spirits relating to ancestral worship or it takes part in these ceremonies.

Lares: Specifically, Lares Familiares The spirits of the ancestors technically speaking a guardian of deceased family members and living and the household, the singular is Lar Familiares. A very important spirit in Roman polytheistic religion, they would have altar called Lararia or Lariarium usually where the family members would gather like a living room or back then a hearth. Domestic Lares would have a special place at the dinner table sharing a space with the family. These Lares would also be prayed and be given offerings daily and annually such as wine, pastries like honeycakes, first fruits (from the haverst), incense, grapes, wheat foods. Lares were gods of boundaries, the public, and fields. Domestic Lares are called Lares Domestici and specifically for family is Lares Familiares but they were used interchangeably if they were displeased or offerings, we’d not met they would have unfavourable reception evolving in angry spirit and makes sure no-good fortune or rewards befallen the family until they are pleased. Their festival is Compitalia which is the annual festival of Lares and other respected household deities of the crossroads, held on December 22 there were shrines of Lares placed in sights of crossroads representing their role in liminal spaces.

Often depicted as a young male, not always winged youth holding a cornucopia or libation dish, at times depicted as dancing. Lares of the household is often portrayed as a deified ancestor or hero ancestor, this ancestor is usually patriarchal and the spirits witnessed special events like marriages, boys coming of age, anniversaries, adoptions, etc. their purpose were very protective and providers of good fortune. They were often associated with the panes or penates.

Manes: Were referred as di manes or the divine dead those who departed became a mane, these were either Lares or Parentes of their respective families. Mane was considered the “divine spark” of a living person their consciousness that resides in their minds. Busts of one’s family member is said to have their mane within the art to be honored and welcome in the home even after they departed. That’s why you many you see many busts of Roman people including emperors, it can be made from wax which would put on the departed face then be made as a death mask where people would wear it during the person’s funeral as a way to honor their legacy. Their busts also be present during gatherings and civil and political gatherings as well so they can be included. They were celebrated during Parentalia, Feralia, and Lemuria.

Parentes: These are spirits of the family much like Lares however the Parentes is immediate family like father, mother, siblings, spouses, children, and grandparents. It the individual’s family members that passed that they knew in life. If one were to travel outside of their home to go somewhere very far. The person would keep embers from their hearth along with small statues of their deceased loved ones. In modern days this is equivalent to carrying a picture of a loved one with us. In the movie Gladiator depicts this tradition when Maximus prays to his deceased wife and son. The starting prayer would be “blessed father” and “blessed mother”. Referring to their own mother and father rather than praying to Jupiter for an archetypal father. The sacred holiday is Parentalia beginning on February 13 ending for nine days ending on the beginning of Feralia which focused on honoring deceased ancestors and recently departed then Carista starts which traditionally a time to focus on honoring living family members.

Household deities

Janus: God of doorways and entrances. Depicted as a two-faced man.

Vesta: Goddess of the hearth and home.

Cardea: Goddess of hinges

Forculus: God of actual doors

Limentinus: God of the threshold

Terminus: God of Boundaries.

General household spirits

Penates: Spirits of the kitchen and pantry and often worshipped alongside the Lares, their shrines would be in cupboards and be offered the first fruits and grain from harvest. They protect the food from any rot, illness that may grow in the kitchen or the food itself. Like the Lares they would also be shared a spot at the dinner table the offerings be burn in the hearth afterwards.

Lemures: Restless spirits that tend to be more malicious if they are displeased. Often show their anger through what we call today a poltergeist. It was believed it was the angry revenants of the departed who were restless because their wills were not fulfilled, offerings weren't given, or hadn't received a proper burial. According to Ovid, Lemures caused chaos in Rome as they were not properly worshipping them so they created a sacred holiday for them called Lemuria held on May 9, 11,and 13th.

Genius Loci: Genius is the spirit form of manhood symbolize by a snake. That is the head of the household it is related to the patriarchal structure of the home. Genius Loci is the spirit of the ground on which the house is built upon. Modern witchcraft and paganism may describe them as a 'land spirit'. But it's not really how the Romans saw it, they believed that the Genius Loci is directly link to the Genius of the household so the father of the house, if the Genius Loci is pleased and worshipped properly then the patriarchal of the house would be prosperous and have good fortune.

Umbrae (Shades): So these are just commonly knowledge as ghosts and apparitions of spirits, depending how and what the context when they make their appearance known then they could understand what type of omen was being crossed to them. For instance seeing a deceased loved one in a dream is consider to be a good omen, but if a stranger it is a bad omen or if they saw the ghost during the day in waking hours was consider to very bad. They were also honored a Feralia and Lemuria and during these festivals people would wear protective charms from the spirits in case of misfortune.

#roman polytheism #roman paganism #roman spirituality #witchcraft #paganism #traditional witchcraft #hellenic community #hellenic polytheism #hellenic worship #helpol

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raijin-tribe · 4 months ago

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Since I’ve already rambled a little bit about the 100YQ today, I also wanted to share this longer rant that’s been sitting in my drafts for a while.

⚠️ 100 Years Quest - Ch. 123 Spoilers ⚠️

One of the biggest annoyances I’ve had with Fairy Tail’s sequel is the mis-characterization of the Raijinshuu. Don’t get me wrong, I hated their fight against Gray, but I mostly expected that… as sad as it is.

Aside from that, it’s this short sequence with Laxus from Ch. 123 that is truly disappointing to me unlike any other.

Like, I’m sorry, but are these really the only reactions we’re gonna get…?

After returning to the guild, Laxus has a moment where he opens up and admits that he took out his own dragon slayer lacrima, and the Raijinshuu just… boast about him? (Aside from Ever, who seems more shocked at his ‘true power’ than the lacrima being removed.)

You’d think they would initially show more shock/concern and ask Laxus questions about what happened and if he's really okay. Let Freed scold him for being reckless, at least. Not just go 'That's our Laxus!!' and move on. I honestly feel like this is something they would all take more seriously.

It's also annoying how we don’t get to see much reaction out of Makarov either. Remember that this is the same lacrima that Ivan wanted to steal after the BoFT, not caring if it would kill his son or not. But everyone seems to keep looking over the fact that Laxus, again, took out the lacrima that he's had since he was a kid! Just ripped it out of his chest— with his bare hands, no less!

I’m just gonna assume Laxus will tell them everything off-panel, but still… I hate when the Raijinshuu are treated like a 'blindly devoted fan club' rather than his best friends, a strong team, or even as individual characters. Even in that bullshit fight against Gray, he calls them ‘Worshippers of Laxus.’ (100YQ Ch. 30) And it’s stuff like that which I feel undermines how close they really are to him.

For the record, I don’t have an issue with the Raijinshuu fawning over Laxus— that’s always been a part of their characters and has led to some great moments between them. I have an issue when it’s the only thing they do.

Compared to other characters, especially those who were a part of the Tenrou team, it feels as though the Raijinshuu are the most forgotten about. They have no backstory, they barely get any new magic or development, and they were left out of the latest Fairy Tail games altogether!

When was the last time they had a good fight that does their magic justice? Hell, when was the last time their eye magic actually worked in their favor?

I never expected them to have much of a role in the 100YQ, and I still don't, but still, it's... really frustrating.

Sorry if this was long, but I’ve wanted to share my thoughts on this for a while.

I try not to post about the 100YQ too much because it’s mostly criticisms and frustrated rants. I want this blog to be a positive place to appreciate the Raijinshuu as characters instead of complaining about how they could be written better, but I also think it’s good to have discussions and express criticism from time to time as well. It’s just not something I’ll be doing too often.

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading!!! I really do appreciate it!!! 💕

#textpost #discussion #raijinshuu #freed justine #bickslow #evergreen fairy tail #fairy tail evergreen #100YQ #100 Years Quest #100yq manga #100YQM #100yq spoilers #raijin-tribe

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crazylittlejester · 8 months ago

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honestly, the fandom dismisses wars trauma a little too much. Have you noticed it’s always never brought up in his character studies? And when it is, it’s totally brushed off him and cia had a WEIRDDD age gap. It’s also weird hyrule warriors never acknowledges this. I honestly don’t think it’s gonna be recognized in LU but idk. It’s just weird how quickly the fandom brushed over all that. What’s your opinion? Cuz you have cool opinions lol

Disclaimer: Everything you’re about to read is my opinion and my interpretation of a game. I’m not talking about headcanons (unless otherwise specified), I’m just talking about my experience with the game and everything else. All of this is from MY perspective interacting with the canon material from both Hyrule Warriors and Linked Universe. Also! I am dyslexic, my bad for oddly autocorrected words or weird spelling mistakes

A huge reason I started yapping so much on this blog was because I saw a lot of people either actively disliking Wars, making fucking INSANE comments about his body, overly sexualizing him, or just straight up dismissing him all together and it helped me get over my posting anxiety because it genuinely made me so upset. He’s been my favorite character since only a few posts into LU (i originally liked Twilight better based sheerly on design but it took like only a few posts before that changed), and I love HW Link in general, and I thought it was actually crazy that more people didn’t like him. I’ve written several of my own characters studies on him, some of which I’ve posted, others lay trapped in my old laptop in the form of a full on analysis paper, never to see the light of day

You can send a full grown man to war and he will come back with trauma, imagine what happens when you grab some poor teenager and tell him everything relies on him. Literally forget Cia for a minute, Link as a teenager was taken and shoved into a full on war where his men turned on him and in order to survive, he had to kill. Monsters and hylians alike, it was him or them, and he’s the one who made it out. Not to mention he was constantly running all over the battle field trying to prevent the hylian captains from being defeated, and he most certainly lost many people he cared about just because he couldn’t get there in time. He had to carry around the guilt that this war was started because some sorceress was obsessed with him ON TOP of that

This was said earlier by an anon on a post I reblogged, and I’ve been saying it myself for months but I will say it again: If Warriors had been a girl and been obsessed over that same way, I fucking GUARANTEE you people would be taking it more seriously

I literally just typed in the character name and the game she’s from and that is what google had to say about her. If an older man was described as ‘harboring serious affections’ and having a ‘desire to claim’ a teenage girl I literally don’t think it would’ve been glossed over or ignored like it is

I don’t think nintendo was ever gonna elaborate or really recognize it in the game, they never go super in depth on anything in Zelda games from my experience, and I doubt Jojo will really get into it in LU mainly just because she has so much going on with eight other dudes and potentially two more (based on the header on the linked universe blog)

I saw a lot of characterizations of Warriors and opinions of him that made me so confused and also a bit mad, such that he is a womanizer or a stupid twink (of which he is neither), and that’s a huge reason I started writing fanfiction for this fandom. Firstly to just create more content for my favorite character because I rarely saw any that focused on him, and secondly because I didn’t like some (NOT ALL) of how I was seeing him characterized. (i cannot emphasize enough: NOT ALL people in the fandom characterized him this way, I saw plenty of amazing and beautiful characterizations of Warriors)

I do not think he is a womanizer at all, in fact I fully believe his flirtatious behavior is a defense mechanism. I think his ‘woman problems’ are the fact that he’s afraid of women (especially older women) he doesn’t know or trust, but also that’s just my opinion. And I am genuinely a bit worried that now that people have stopped talking about how they noticed he seemed off a few updates ago and now that they’re saying he’s back to normal that people are going to start reducing him to a stupid dramatic twink again, as if Warriors was not the one who came up with the initial plan to fight Dink and was not the first one to fight him. As if this is not a man who lead a god damn army. As if everything he’s done and everything he is no longer matters because he’s ‘pretty’

anyways I have a lot of thoughts about him in general and im just glad the fandom has been treating him better as of late, but i am a bit worried it’s just gonna go back to how it was

thanks for the ask!! sorry i got a bit carried away 😭

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu character analysis #hyrule warriors link #lu warriors #lu wars #lu warriors analysis #jes talks #jes ask

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merlucide · 15 days ago

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girl do you have any recomendations for blue lock blogs? it is so hard to find them sometimes esp shidou and oliver😣

heh… well my friend you have come to the right place! 😈 I’ve actually been working on ‘my favorite bllk masterlists post’ rn lol. AND UR SO RIGJT?!? There’s nothing for my manz shidou?!? It’s so hard to find smth with him that isn’t smut yk? which I’m a fluffy girlie like 97% of the time so it’s unfortunate 😔

I’ll just post it rn so you can pick through it ^^ [LINK TO FAV BLLK MLIST!]

But here’s my fav blogs below too:

@shrii-kk (she has so much and for like literally every character)

@thebestsetter (So well written and it could make you cry tbh, very wholesome and poetic vibes)

@m1ckeyb3rry (bro has the most detailed, soul devouring shit EVER. Omg bro if you have nothing to do for 2 hours READ HER FICS!!!!)

@luvingshidou (SHIDOU CENTRALLLLLLL!! very cutsey!! love her stuff as well ^^)

hope I can send you off with some goodies ^^ Thanks for stopping by anon-chan!

#merlucide’s anons ^^#Asks

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month ago

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I know I just sent an ask regarding the Miss Raven relationship post, but I saw the scrapped Yuus one and I wanted to ask smth related (⁠⇀⁠‸⁠↼⁠‶⁠) sorry if two asks in a row are too much in this regard too!

first of all I LOVE YOUR STYLE 😭 it's so cute, I always get excited when you post art. and it's so interesting to get to see a part of your creative process in making characters, even if they didn't end up existing. ( THE ONEE-SAN YUU... Miss Raven was saved from falling for another charming smile... and so were the rest of us )

in regard to ocs, I wanted to ask... do you have any other twst ocs? I think I read some old posts about some RSA ocs, but I wanted to ask specifically if there's another "big" one in terms of story/being as fleshed out as Miss Raven 🧐 or if you ever plan to make another Big Oc™️ in terms of lore like u did for her

also... I wanted to ask... now that you finished her main story, is there any other long form (?) stories you want to explore with her? I know you're hosting the future!au event rn, and you've written more side stories (?) about her in similar events... but I mean as in- again, a longer sort of story. I'm just genuinely curious, since I really like your work + her specifically and I'm curious about whatever you have planned for her 👀 but ofc it's totally okay if you have other plans orrr if you'd prefer to let the heavy Raven lore rest for a bit!!

[Referencing this post and this blog event; the asker’s Miss Raven relationships ask is here.]

adskjblfabfqyovf OTL Thanks??? I get anxious about posting my art because its usually hand drawn, non-committal sketches 💦 I personally really like reading about other people's creative processes so I tend to scribble notes all over my drawings, and then they get all messy and cluttered... I'm glad you like them regardless though.

I like drawing Onee-san!Yuu’s art eyes and hair… She is very dainty and cute! Her personality is fun to toy with too, since how she acts and how she’s truly feeling are so starkly different. I’ve thought about her so many times, it’s almost like she’s psychically reaching out to me in an attempt to have me formally implement her 😂 Again though, not sure if I’ll ever settle on a Yuu because the concept of a Yuu does not really interest me.

Aaaah, my RSA OCs were back from like 2020-2021. I never did manage to flesh them out and I think I’ve lost the fire to. I have several NRC OCs that I haven’t shared because they aren’t that fleshed out either. Of those, I think my favorite is my twisted!Iago (who is in part also inspired by my own pet)… He’s just a punk ass (first year Scarabia) kid and Jamil’s self-proclaimed minion (Jamil has no idea who he is).

Ironically, I think the most detailed NRC OCs I have at the moment are the three based on mob students:

Even then, I don’t think they’re super deep… Pome A can be summarized as "ex-delinquent who now has the goal of becoming 'a gentleman'" (similar to Deuce, who wants to be an honors student). Scarab B is basically a Jamil fan boy (though he's less angry/pushy about it than Sebek is; he has more eager puppy energy). The most detailed one of the bunch is Octa A, who is very anxious (Idia-sh) due to being sorted into Octavinelle, where his dorm members are constant sources of stress. Outside of that, he's a very... homely "boy next door" type. I picture him coming from a tightly knit island town and helping out his family at a community center where they help people find jobs that best suit them. (If you couldn't tell, a lot of Octa A's backstory is inspired by the Lilo and Stitch animated series.) The mob student OCs were conceived because I thought it would be funny to sometimes write from the perspective of unrelated onlookers watching all of the crazy stuff that happens on NRC campus and just going, "What, AGAIN????" They feel more like unserious gag characters, if anything.

I have actually considered writing a sequel to the Tale of the Cursed Raven for the longest time! If you've read the original tale, Vil, Azul, and Idia play prominent roles throughout it. The second saga would theoretically give the other dorm leaders (Malleus, Leona, Kalim, and Riddle) importance. Note that 3 out of 4 of the dorm leaders in the latter group are nobles or have noble relatives. That's because the (potential) sequel would involve themes of social status and who gets to shape the future. A-And hey, maybe it could focus on Raven's relationship with L*ona instead of J word this time-- The synopsis is as follows: Having finally broken her curse, Raven Crowley is now free to live as she wishes in a happily ever after of her own making... or is she? One day, a strange invitation arrives from an unknown sender, beckoning her to Briar Valley. Amid whispers of Malleus Draconia's ascension to the throne and a grand ball to decide the dragon's bride-to-be, the timing is certainly strange. "This is far too suspicious," she thinks. "I simply won't go." Then a sparkling carriage pulls up to the gates of Night Raven College, claiming to be looking for a princess in black feathers. Accompanying that carriage are two men cloaked in white and a woman that shines like starlight.

"Who are you?" Raven asks, feeling as though they've met before in some distant past. "Why, I'm your Fairy Godmother. I'm here to make all of your dreams come true."

Perhaps this meeting was always meant to be.

(I WANT TO BE CLEAR: despite how the synopsis sounds, it is NOT meant to be Raven x Malleus. I would appreciate it if readers refrained from discussing this topic, please and thank you.)

As you can probably tell by that 💦 the story sounds very ambitious... and unfortunately, I don't feel comfortable writing it because we're still missing so much from the canon main story. I'd like the OB Malleus and Grim arcs to complete so I understand the full scope of the story and how the loose ends are tied up (particularly Malleus's reaction post-OB and how, if at all, he embraces change). More lore on dragon fae would be helpful as well. I'd also ideally like a Briar Valley hometown event so I can see what the culture, traditions, people, politics, etc. are like before I attempt to depict it in my writing.

In this sequel, there would be many OCs introduced--at least 4 of them! I've been cooking a lot behind the scenes ^^ One of these OCs you've actually met in the original tale; it would be the Enchantress (Estella) that originally cursed the Storyteller. 2 of the other OCs are what I would describe as Estella's helpers, who are meant to be her equivalent to Silver and Sebek. One is inspired by the concept of the “messenger dove + dove with the olive branch” and the other is inspired by Swan Lake. The 4th and final OC is basically all but confirmed would be a foil character to Malleus, an ambitious nobleman twisted from Nerissa (the villain from Enchanted).

Here’s some doodles I have of the 4 OCs I mentioned! The first two are “the dove” and “the swan”, respectively. The bottom two are concepts for twisted!Nerissa and Estella.

This sequel would expand more on Estella's motives and background (something I mentioned in my afterthoughts), as well as tie in history and political intrigue as Raven’s forced to navigate those circles. It would most likely be set a year or so in the future, and the events that take place would inform Raven’s internship decision in her fourth year. (She would be a scribe in Briar Valley!) I’d like part II to feel like a story event that supplements or follows up on the development in part I/the main story.

xbjsbsjsjsb Anyway 🤡 That’s all I feel okay with revealing for now. I want to be clear and reiterate that this is all just a theoretical sequel and I’m not sure if I’ll actually get around to writing it. It’s definitely been fun to conceptualize though ^^

I’ll leave you with this concept art:

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