#was going to respond to someone else's post but it felt impolite to say more than them on their own post 😂

[ellstersmash]

i am on my third playthrough of Veilguard and am thoroughly enjoying it while also feeling dismayed about how much work I have to do to make a compelling story out of it.

it kind of feels like being invited to a dinner party but when you get there it's a DIY situation. i mean it's a great party! there's good music, great people, even convenient parking. and they do have a lot of ingredients, some of which are kinda out there, and they did make...something for people to eat in the meantime, but definitely not the meal originally promised. so if you're hungry, and you're not satisfied with a slice of cheese, a handful of slivered almonds, and a powdered hot chocolate packet, you are simply going to have to roll up your sleeves and make your own damn meal--or wait for other people to whip up something good. oh and someone's probably going to have to run to the store because there's an awful lot of gaps in the spread.

[wildlittlefoxsworld]

I have a crush on you

Hey there, I post another fanfiction in the Harry Potter universe, well, have fun :)

Pairing: George Weasley x female!reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: You’re best friends with the Weasley twins. The Yule Ball is coming soon and you don’t have a date yet. You have crush on George since forever, but you don’t think he likes you back, but it seems that you’re wrong, because George is asking you to be his date for the ball.

Warnings: I don’t know... fluff, a bit steamy kissing, that’s all :)

Harry Potter Masterlist

***

Saturday afternoon in late September, it was still warm and you enjoyed the last ray of sunshine. You were happy to have a bit time for yourself, but this only last for a few minutes, because the Weasley twins knew the meadow near the lake was your favorite place. It would have been only a matter of time until they joined you with biscuits and pastries from the school kitchen.

“Y/N, we are really sad that you didn’t invite us to spend the afternoon with you,” Fred complained with a fake pout, but he looked adorable when he did it.

“That was the point. I want alone time, but here you are,” you huffed laughing and shook your head when the twins sat down on either side of you on the blanket.

“Oh, that’s rude.  You’re hurting our feelings, Y/N,” George responded and laid his hand above his heart. You could only roll your eyes about their behavior.

“Yeah, Georgie is right. We want an apology,” Fred demanded chuckling and poked you into your ribs with his pointy finger.

“Ouch, that hurts.” You rubbed over the point on your side.

“You’re just too weak,” Fred observed and you shoved him hard on his shoulder that he fell backwards.

“Hey, what was that for?”

“For calling a girl weak,” you replied sassy.

“Fine, you aren’t weak, but you shoved like a girl.”

You smacked him on the back of his head and he hissed from the slight pain.

“Why are you attacking me?”

“You’re the one who is mean to me.”

Fred clicked his tongue. “I am mean to you? You’re hitting me.”

“Stop this nonsense. I have a peace-offering,” George disclosed and opened the basket with biscuits and pastries.

“Oh, yummy, you bring me lemon cake,” you cheered and took one of the little cakes in your hand. You bit in the delicious mass and the flavor of citrus fruits exploded on your tongue.

“So good,” you mumbled and ate the piece in two more bites.

“Are you two friends again?” George chuckled.

“Okay, we have truce, but only if he doesn’t start his childish behavior again,” you said with your mouth still full of lemon cake.

“Before you speak, you should gulp your food. It’s impolite,” Fred remarked with a grin.

You turned your head to him with widened eyes. “You’re the one with bad manners.”

“Can we have at least one day without the both of you teasing each other?” George huffed laughing and nudged you in the side.

“We’re not teasing each other, that’s how we’re showing our affection to each other,” Fred explained and you nodded eating another lemon cake.

“Alright, and how do you show affection towards me?”

You licked a few crumbles from your lips while George watched curiously. “You couldn’t handle me being mean to you, so I’m very friendly to you, and you’re the nicer twin by the way.”

“I can hear you,” Fred exclaimed beside you, but you just gave him a side-glance and shrugged your shoulders.

 You talked with the twins about the last lesson in Astronomy and if you already wrote the essay for the next Potions’ lesson. You were already done, but you wanted to reread it this evening, because it was due tomorrow. Like always Fred wanted to copy your homework, but you denied it like always.

“You are the smart one of us, Y/N. Why don’t you help me?” Fred fake cried and you shook your head again.

“Who said you’re not smart?”

“You, yesterday, remember?”

“You’re both are smartest guys I knew, except for Hermione.”

“Hermione lives in the library, of course, she’s smart.”

You three laughed at George’s comment and you ate your third lemon cake.

“You should be careful with eating so many cakes,” George said with a concerned tone in his voice.

“And why is that so?” you asked slightly offended. “Want you say that I’m fat?”

George held his hands up in defeat. “I mean you should consider the thought. The Yule Ball is in a few weeks and you want to fit in your dress, right?”

“Oh, shut up, who says that I’ll go to the ball?”

“Why not, Y/N? Don’t you have a date already?” Fred asked curiously.

You snorted through your nose and ate demonstratively a fourth lemon cake.

“Is that a no?” Fred asked again.

“Why are you asking anyway, Fred?” you replied a little mad. You didn’t really want to talk about the Yule Ball and who would be your date to the ball. Fred knew exactly that you didn’t have a date; you would have told both of them. The twins were your best friends since your first day in Hogwarts, if something special like that would happen they would be the first to know.

There were a few boys who had asked you, but you declined every invitation politely. You waited for special guy to ask you, but you weren’t very hopefully that this would happen.

“I’m just curious,” Fred answered shrugging and you frowned at his words.

“You know you could go with us,” George suggested from your right side and you frowned even more.

“Don’t you have other options then to go with your girl best friend?”

“Oh, we have a lot of options. Fred is burning to ask Angelina, but he’s too afraid to ask.”

You burst out into laughter. “Fred Weasley isn’t brave enough to ask a girl for a date?”

You couldn’t stop the laughter, but Fred looked really offended by your words.

“That’s not funny, Y/N,” Fred uttered seriously and you sensed immediately that he wasn’t joking.

“I’m sorry, of course, it’s not funny. But why are you scared? Just ask her. She can’t say more than no. I mean that would be sad, but I’m sure you will find someone else to ask.”

Fred made an unpleasant noise. “That’s-+ not so easy in practice.”

“Fred likes Angelina. He likes her in a romantic way,” George whispered in your ear and your eyes widened in surprise, but then you began to smile softly. You laid your hand on top of Fred’s and he looked up after his eyes were glued to his shoes.

“You should ask her. She will say yes, Fred. Trust me,” you encouraged him and Fred’s eyes lighted up with hope when he processed your words in his mind.

“Are you saying that she likes me too?”

“Yeah, she fancies you a lot. So go on, mate, before some other guy will ask her. Angelina is a popular girl.”

“Get her, Freddie!” George shouted after Fred ran back to the castle, but before he was gone he kissed your cheek to thank you.

 “I didn’t know he liked Angelina so much. How long does he feel like this?” You asked George frowning and feeling bad that you didn’t notice anything.

“Oh, I think since second grade. Don’t feel bad, I can see it on the tip of your nose. He didn’t show any signs until they announced that there would be the ball. He told me when we talked about who we should ask for a date. You see I didn’t know either.”

You took a deep breath and thought that even your best friends had secrets. That was okay actually, because every person had secrets that they kept to themselves. Even you had a secret. Your sight wandered to George and you watched his profile. The red, messy hair, the straight nose and his full lips, the freckles around his nose and then he looked at you with his deep brown eyes.

You turned your head away very quickly and you didn’t see the smug grin on George’s face, because he definitely knew that you stared at him.

“So, Y/N, what about you? Did anyone ask you already?” George wanted to know and you just shook your head.

“No one or no one you liked?”

“Ehm, no one I liked so far, but I have still a few weeks. And what about you?”

You wanted to change the direction, so that you wouldn’t talk about you anymore.

“My invitation was serious, Y/N. If you want I can go with you to the ball,” George offered and you quirked an eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Why would that be weird?” George asked and rolled onto his side to look at you directly.

“I’m your best friend. You should go with a girl you have a crush on,” you considered and laid your head down hoping this conversation would be over soon. You wished that you would be this girl for George, but you were sure he only saw you as his best friend and he shouldn’t go with you to the ball out of pity.

“There is no other girl I have a crush on,” George answered casually and smiled gentle at you.

“Of course, there’s a girl you must have a crush on. Who is it? You know all the boys like Fleur Delacour apparently.”

“Yes, Fleur is beautiful, but she doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Well, who is it then? Is it maybe a muggle girl from your home town. I know you can’t ask her, but…”

“Y/N,” George said more vigorous and you shut your mouth. “Like I said there is no other girl. There’s only you.”

You watched him confused and wanted to say something, but you didn’t trust your brain to say something stupid.

“Me?” you could only say flabbergasted and George nodded chuckling.

“Did I miss something? Are you joking with me?” you considered carefully.

George stroked your cheek with his thumb, the touch felt light as a feather, and he wandered further to trace your bottom lip. Goosebumps spread over your naked arms and your breath went slightly faster. George never touched you in this way and you were only more confused.

“No, I’m serious. You’re the girl I have a crush on.”

“What… but you never… no… why… You like me?”

 You were utterly shocked for a moment. The boy you had a crush on since the first day of school, confessed that he had a crush on you too. It sounded unreal to you, but George just smiled at you the whole time and you didn’t think that he was making fun of you.

“I really like you, Y/N. Do you want to have a proof?”

“What?” you asked confused. His words confused you more and more.

“Okay, wind back and stop. Can you just explain me why you are suddenly like me?”

“I don’t like you suddenly. I like for quite a while, to be honest I fancy since the first year here.”

“Why you didn’t then say anything?”

“Because you always treated me like a brother. But since we know that there will be a ball, you started to look different at me. Little glances when we were sitting in the class and you smiled differently at me. Not the sassy one you always have, your new smile was more dreamy and… longing.”

You didn’t know you were so obviously in your behavior towards George. You felt embarrassed and the blood was rushing into your face.

“Don’t be shy, Y/N. I like the way you look at me and I don’t want it to change. I hope you only look at me like this for very long time.”

You bite your lip while you thought about his words. You believed him, but his words only encouraging you to be more yourself and not some shy girl. You weren’t the bashful type and George knew this.

“I’m never shy, Georgie. So, what proof do you have?”

“Aren’t my words enough?” he teased you and you laughed at his half-grin.

“Oh, I believe you, but you talked about a proof, so?”

 George’s grin grew wider and he wiggled his eyebrows. “You asked for it, don’t forget.”

You giggled, but you were interrupted when he cupped your face with one hand and pressed his mouth to your. Your eyes closed automatically and you felt nothing else than the gentle pressure of his lips, they were warm and a little wet, just liked you imagined many times before. George was really kissing you, and now you were overwhelmed by your feelings. You didn’t know if you should wait until he break the kiss or if you should go further and deepening the kiss. You decided to be brave. You opened your mouth experimentally and kissed him back slowly. You began to massage fondly his lips to test if he liked to join you and George didn’t hesitate to intensify your kissing.

His lips were slightly chapped, but you liked the rough feeling and you changed the angle of your head to kiss more passionately. Finally came movement in your limbs and you buried your hands in the soft strains of his long hair.

The only thing you could think of his warm hand on your cheek, the hot breath against your mouth, and he moved slowly to lay more on top of you, so he could place his other hand in your neck.

All of this felt like a dream to you and you were afraid that could wake up every second.

You never thought that George was a so good kisser. Well, it wasn’t your first kiss, but it definitely felt better than any kiss you’ve ever had.

George got more courage and he showed it when the tip of his tongue licked your upper lip. Your body shuddered from this sudden action, but you allowed him the access. Tentatively he explored your mouth with his tongue and caressed yours gentle. You moaned when your tongues played passionately with each other.

The noise you made went straight to George’s core and he pressed his body closer to you. Your smell was intoxicating for him and he couldn’t get enough of your taste, but he knew that he would have to stop soon, because he didn’t want to go further without your permission and he thought that it would be still too early.

Slowly he ended the kiss and leaned his forehead against yours. You were both panting slightly and he pressed another kiss smiling on your lips.

“Y/N, oh dear, I thought about this since… I don’t know, but I wished to kiss for a very long time.”

You chuckled at his words and caressed his cheek tenderly.

“I feel the same, George, and yes, I’ll go with you to the ball.”

George raised his head to look you properly in the eyes and he beamed at you with happiness.

“You make me very happy, sweetheart. Can call you that?” he asked only to be sure.

“You can call me sweetheart, honey, dear, darling, baby. Whatever you like,” you assured him and he leaned down to embrace you in a tight hug.

 You enjoyed to lay with George there for a while in silence and played with the hair in his neck. Both of your breathing were frequent and you listened to the noises of the nature around you.

“Do you think Angelina said yes?” George asked curiously.

“Well, let’s find out. I think it’s time that we go back, there will be dinner served in the great hall very soon.”

You loosened your embrace and George put the food back in the basket while you rolled the blanket up. You were both smiling and holding hands when you were walking back to the castle. If felt right and you knew that bond between the both of you were something special.

Fred already sat on the Gryffindor table and showed you a thumbs up and George hold your intertwined fingers in the air.

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #17

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Play of Color

Shaved ice.

A summer that everyone, from kids to adults, knew about. But how to say this in English? I’d never been taught that. Could I even say it to begin with?

The beautiful man responded clearly to my offhand doubts, “‘Shaved ice’. Other options such as ‘ice frost’ and ‘snow cone’ also go into the category, but if you are to to regard the context of ‘ice that was shaved’ as important, then I believe ‘shaved ice’ is appropriate.”

“I see, so it’s a direct translation for ‘ice that’s been shaved’. Got it... A-Aaah! Didn’t you put too much syrup? Ah—”

“I will add more ice.”

A rattling sound echoed through the jewelry shop, where there was nobody but the shopkeeper and his employee. Sitting on the tabletop was an ice shaving machine. As one would expect, we couldn’t commit the barbarianism of placing it directly on a glass table, so three cloths were stacked under the machine’s legs. It wasn’t the manual and nostalgic type but an electric one.

A customer had come over with a paper bag from a famous home appliances mass retailer and bought a glittering yellow diamond that they had reserved, but on this occasion, they ended up forgetting the bag from the electronics retail store. The shopkeeper immediately noticed it and contacted them by phone, but they were in the Narita Express, going straight to Bali for vacation. Apparently, they would only be coming back in the beginning of autumn. What luxury.

The customer who was heading to the southern island had casually said, “You can use it if you’d like—actually, please use it and tell me how it went”, then bid goodbye to Richard with a lighthearted voice and hung up. Inside the paper bag was a brand-new ice shaving machine. It also came with small syrup bags. Seven types of them. The mango, ramune, cola, lime and peach ones were a shock to me, as lived in a world of strawberry, melon and lemon ones. So people could enjoy even things like the pleasure of actually visiting stalls at home nowadays?

That was how we decided to choose at our own discretion a time on the following day when there were no reservations, and began holding a shaved ice party for just the two of us. However, when I said in a joking tone that I honestly never thought we’d really get to be the first ones to use something that a customer had forgotten, Mr. Richard Ranashinghe de Vulpian sighed grievously.

“After what happened yesterday, he contacted me to inform that he had arrived in Bali. He posted on social media, ‘I forgot my ice shaving machine, so I asked an acquaintance to try it out. I’m looking forward to it’, so it seems we need to take a video of the shaved ice as fast as possible. Think of this as also a kind of service.”

“There’s all sorts of jobs out there these days.”

Marketing that introduced new products on social media wasn’t something uncommon these days. But I heard that this sort of business was strict about many things, such as obligations and deadlines, so it might be serious stuff in its own way. I thought up until this point, but then my head whispered, “No, hold on” to me. If this was really the case, then bringing along an ice shaving machine immediately before going to Bali didn’t make any sense. Could it be...?

“Did that person leave this here on purpose? It’s clearly something that you can’t bring into an airplane and would get in the way during the trip.”

“That is possible. But it is not something for a single jeweler to judge. There is a possibility that they thought they would be able to enjoy shaved ice at a beach resort but were mistaken, and are now feeling down. Oh... oh, mgh...”

“Ah, the ice turned into water. Didn’t you put a tad too much syrup?”

“Nonsense. From the market price, it is obvious that the more syrup, the merrier.”

“You told that wholesaler who came to buy a ring with lots of decorative diamonds the other day that ‘more doesn’t equal better’, though.”

“Those are two different things,” he said in an eloquent, beautiful Japanese that sounded like it had been cut and trimmed, at which I prostrated myself with a “hahaa”.

Despite the force in his eyes being certain, he seemed to be having trouble putting an appropriate amount of syrup. When he put an abundant amount of the mango, ramune, cola, lime and peach ones all together, the ski slope-like white canvas turned into a color that looked like that of Shinjuku’s gutters during a downpour. Richard would surely call this shade of gray “smoky quartz” or something like that. The fluffy pile of ice was gone, leaving a sleet – or just plain water – in the glass bowl. It would’ve been fine if he had added them little by little, but on second thought, I was thinking this way because I was Japanese, so I was used to the way we added shaved ice syrup to some extent.

As the jeweler, not discouraged, put his bowl under the ice shaving machine, pressed the button and added more ice with crunchy noises, I called out to him, “Hey. Can you lend me that for a bit?”

“I do not mind.”

I took the bowl of water in my hands, adding the syrups of each type little by little. I felt like the jeweler was staring fixedly at me, like, “You’ll only use that tiny little bit of them? Seriously?” but I ignored him. As they said, the last drop makes the cup run over.

The result was...

“Tadaaah.”

A snowy mountain had changed its form into a richly colored shaved ice. I thought it was pretty good, if I could say so myself.

His eyelashes fluttering as he blinked for a moment, the gorgeous jeweler whispered, “Hoo. Excellent. Beautiful.”

“Well, being told that by someone who’s like an incarnation of the concept of beauty is flattering.”

“Ahem. Anyway, this color is extremely tasteful. It bears a close remembrance to ammolite.”

“‘Ammo... nite’?”

“Not ‘ni’, ‘li’. ‘Ammolite’. Ammolite is a gemstone that derivates from living creatures, of which the components obtain an iridescent effect during the many years of fossilization.” Saying this, Richard opened a video on his phone and handed it over to me. I exchanged it for the bowl of shaved ice as if it were an assembly-line system.

What appeared on-screen was a cross-section view of the ammonite. It was split vertically like a CT image taken at a hospital. The contents were a rainbow-colored stone that sparkled brightly. A gradation of red, green and yellow. It changed depending on what angle you looked at it. A while ago, when I heard about the opal, it was revealed to me that this kind of effect was called “play of color”. Still, to think that the inside of a shell could go through such a transition. There was too much depth to the things that happened in nature, and they were immeasurable.

“So can this be called... a stone too...?”

“This would be something that happened about forty years ago, but it was classified as a ‘gemstone’ by the Gemological Society of America. Of course, I do not think it should be pushed through, even if the costumer themselves happen to say that ‘this is a fossil’.”

It apparently depended on how you thought of it. Thinking back, this applied even to the general idea of gemstones.

I flicked the phone’s screen, head-over-heels for the prism-like shells that showed up one after another. Some people used them as pendants or brooches by processing the glittering part with gold.

“How pretty. Hey, do we also have ammolites here in Etrang... eh?”

“There is a possibility that we will one day. Something the matter?”

The beautiful jeweler had been scooping the shaved ice with a tiny spoon and eating it. He wasn’t eating it in a rushed way at all, but half of the iceberg was already gone. With perfect moderation, so that the proportion of the colors of the syrups that I had added one by one wouldn’t crumble.

“D-Did you like it that much?”

“I have never eaten shaved ice at Japanese stalls. Having a frozen desert in a refreshing place like this has a nostalgic air to it.”

He had never waged shaved ice at a stall. Did that mean he had eaten shaved ice at some fashionable shop? Probably not, I thought. A normal Japanese person wouldn’t eat shaved ice at that pace. The reason went without saying. This pace was – how should I put it? – dangerous.

“Richard, hey, listen well. Shaved ice is—”

“Why are you coming close?”

“I’m telling you something important. You have to eat shaved ice at a high pace.”

“But why are you shortening the distance between us? You are too close.”

“Don’t get hung up on minor stuff. More importantly, you already ate a lot of this shaved ice, right? Aren’t you tired of it? I can eat the rest.”

“It is terribly disconcerting to hear this from the father of this work of art, but I do not see any reason for that whatsoever, thus I humbly decline.”

“Aah! Don’t gulp it down! I said don’t gulp it down!”

“I am not. I do not eat that way.”

“Like I said, that’s not what I’m talking about...”

“It is impolite for me to eat by myself. Hurry and make yours to eat as well.”

“Whatever happens got nothing to do with me...”

Glancing backwards at the jeweler as he gave me an aloof nod, I began making my own shaved ice.

Later on, after Richard pleased the customer by sending them pictures of the shaved ice, he reported back to me. He probably reported because the pictures he had sent to the customer was of the shaved ice that I had made for myself, on which the colors were scattered in the form of a whirlwind. I smiled back, replying that I was glad, and not saying anything else. I also didn’t tell him that, by the time he remembered we had to do a photo shoot of it, the beautiful jeweler was making a face that looked like a boy having a worrisome migraine due to some anguish towards the meaning of life and death.

Summer was not yet over. We also didn’t know yet whether or not the customer in Bali would come to retrieve the ice shaving machine. Etranger wasn’t that big, so Richard was probably troubled that it was left there. But if they didn’t come to get it, I might be able to enjoy eating shaved ice with Richard in the summer every year for a while, I thought. And each of these times, I’d be sure to make a shiny mountain of ice in the colors of a rainbow, just like an ammolite. Just like the sparkly smile that Richard showed, I thought that it’d be great if such a summer came around and was looking forward to it.

[ruewrites]

Hi!!!!! I absolutely loved all of we're blooming together and everything else in the series, do you think we could maybe get some of the story from solomon's POV?

AO3

WBT

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 3122

Warning: None

A/N: Hello Hello! Thank you so much for requesting this! It was wonderful coming back to this AU! I hope you enjoy this little perspective from Solomon's point of view. I'm always down to revisit WBT if you guys ever want to see anything else!

Solomon couldn't exactly remember when he'd started having feelings for his best friend. Probably around highschool? Late middle school? Whatever the case, Solomon had known he liked him, but he had some problems.

One. All of Asmo's partners were beautiful and charismatic and usually had some sort of high standing. It wasn't that Solomon was not popular so to speak but he wasn't the captain of the football team or the cheerleading team, he didn't have lots of ins to big fancy parties, and he wasn't extremely social. He noticed things about them, things he believed he could never measure up to, but he was always there for Asmo no matter what happened, advising him after fights and helping him through breakups. Not that he minded, he knew Asmo would do the same for him given the chance. It's how they functioned.

Two. His family. They knew he was attracted to women, but as far as he knew they had no clue that he also had feelings for men. Ash, his old caretaker, was the only one who Solomon knew about his feelings towards men. They’d raised him, they knew. It wasn't that he thought they'd react poorly, he just didn't know how they'd react. He saw them so rarely anyways that he figured it just didn't matter. They could figure it out after he moved out. Not to mention, finding other men to ask out was hard, especially when he kept thinking of Asmo. Women were easier for him to date. He often didn't have to question if they were attracted to him or if they wanted to date him.

Three. Asmo was his first childhood friend. His best friend.

He’d been the first friend Solomon had ever had, and Solomon had never been this close to anyone. Their relationship was special, something sacred.

So much was on the line.

He stopped dating all together after they left for college. He knew he liked Asmo too much at this point. It would be unfair to anyone else he did try to date.

So when Asmo broke up with his last ex, Solomon got an idea.

He gave him a little bit of time wanting to make sure that Asmo was okay after the messy breakup that had followed. Solomon had a lot of disdain for his last boyfriend. The man had been a monster. Solomon had had Asmo at his apartment sobbing over the latest argument they'd had. How this man had picked at the smallest insecurity until it burst open allowing blood to flow. Lucifer had been the one to convince Asmo to break up with him, something Solomon couldn't have been more relieved for.

He couldn't stand watching Asmo be stuck in that cycle anymore.

He waited a while before even constructing his first letter.

"You know, you could just tell him," Simeon's voice came as Solomon paced back and forth trying to think of the perfect words, "I think Asmodeus would be delighted to go out with you."

"If only it could be that easy."

"It literally could be that easy."

Solomon fell back onto the couch, mulling over if there was anything else he could or should say before telling Simeon he was done with this letter. He and Asmo had history together. If Asmo didn't want this, it could potentially put strain on their relationship.

"I need to test the waters first to see if he'd even be receptive to someone asking him out."

"And you can't just ask him if he wants to go see a movie with you on the weekend?" Simeon chuckled. Solomon was about to retort, but his friend continued, "Although, from what I've seen of Asmodeus, I think he'll like this."

One letter turned to two.

Two to three.

Three to four.

And so on.

Each time Solomon swore up and down it would be the last one and that he would just tell him. But then Asmo started to get more cuddly, more bold, with him. Each time Solomon lost his nerve.

But seeing how happy the letters made him didn't make him regret a thing.

Then Asmo invited him out, as his model. He couldn't say no. How could he say no? He thought he'd be prepared to see Asmo, but how he couldn't have been more wrong. Solomon's mouth went dry as soon as he opened the door. Staring too long would be impolite, but not taking in every inch of him would have been a crime. Every touch, every caress made Solomon lose his words.

In hopes of loosening up from his anxieties, he drank. He told himself it would only be one fancy drink.

But one became two.

Two became three.

Three became four.

And so on.

Soon his drunken mind had been making (what he thought were) cute little passes at Asmo. Or at least what he thought were cute little passes. His sober mind had later realized that almost falling off of a stool and nearly smashing his face into a counter probably wasn't the most ideal form of flirting. But he was drunk on Asmo just as much as he was drunk off of the alcohol. Then they'd moved to the couch. That closeness had gotten to him. Everything was going perfectly.

Until it didn't.

He thought for sure Asmo would have said no to that woman. Solomon should have said no. He had straight A's. He was in the top of their class. All of his professors told him he had a bright future. He was a smart young man.

But he'd made a very stupid decision.

The young woman had only wanted a dance and Solomon certainly didn't want to put a damper on her night. He figured Asmo would have followed to dance. In a way, he hadn't really known what he'd been agreeing to.

Then she kissed him.

Then Asmo wouldn't speak to him.

Text after text ran through his phone. He knew Asmo had to be getting the texts, he never had his phone off. Yet he wasn't responding, and he wasn't posting on his socials.

So there Solomon sat, dejected and kicking himself in the living room. If only he could go back and redo that night. He'd do it right. He would have asked Asmo out right there on the couch.

"Are you going to stop moping soon? I'd like to clean the living room."

Simeon peaked into the doorway, but Solomon didn't bother looking at him. He could wallow in his own pity and lick his wounds a little more. "I apologize, I can move into my room and continue."

"No you won't," Simeon sighed, taking the seat next to him, "You could just come clean to him. I bet it'd make you feel better."

"He won't respond to my texts. I don't think he wants to see me."

"You could send him another letter."

But what to write?

What could Solomon possibly say to explain himself? The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he’d been toying with Asmo. He kicked himself for having the need to show off and not just asking him out over one of their coffee meet ups. He might have had a better chance then.

He should have kissed Asmo that night.

So he sat hunched over his desk, piles of crumpled up papers sat haphazardly around his trash bin. Nothing seemed right. Flowery language at a time like this just didn’t fit. He wanted to be to the point. He wanted it to be genuine and something Asmo would listen to. That’s when it occurred to him that he just needed Asmo to see him in person. Oh how that thought twisted his stomach into knots. He almost didn’t do it.

It would have been so much easier to admire Asmo from a distance, to slink back inwards and continue to hide himself. But the longing within him hurt, and then the small voice in his head started whispering about how unfair it would be to Asmo. It was already too late to take back everything else he’d said and done; he knew he couldn’t just run away from it. Quickly scrawling out the few words he needed to say. Then, as if to give either one of them one last out, Solomon decided to plant one last letter. He would face death itself in the face and ask Lucifer to deliver the letter for him. Lucifer was protective, and for good reason. Solomon had no clue how he’d react or if he would even deliver the letter. But he would have to trust him.

Everything was so uncertain.

For as long as Solomon could remember, he’d had every step of his life planned out. He’d graduate with high honors from college, go to grad school, get his doctorate, and then teach as a college professor and spend his days responding to emails and grading assignments.

Then he started feeling that funny feeling in his chest, and it scared him. Falling for his best friend and then not being able to shake those feelings had certainly not been in his plans. It wasn’t something he could predict, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Asmodeus was smart and spontaneous. He was bright eyed with big dreams for his future and the only one who really ever got him to stop and think about how he’d reach those dreams was Solomon. He was also the one who always talked Solomon into dreaming bigger.

Solomon wasn’t really sure if he believed in fate or destiny or even soul mates, but perhaps this was it. Maybe life had presented him with the perfect person for him all those years ago. They foiled each other out and balanced. It felt perfect, it all felt perfect. His future now felt hazy and unsure, and while it was a terrifying thought Solomon wasn’t entirely sure he minded. Normally he hated uncertainty, but with Asmodeus he found that he didn’t mind. When they were together everything would be fine, no matter what.

When it came to uncertainty about their relationship, he despised it.

He found his thoughts drifting to their relationship more and more as he wandered through their old playground. The setting sun cast shadows between spots where they used to run and play together. He could still remember Asmo’s favorite hiding spots when they used to play hide and seek together. How he would squeal when Solomon caught him. The spot he used to pick flowers for Asmo was now starting to be taken over by weeds or grasses. Rust even covered the structures he and Asmo used to climb all over. Solomon didn’t even feel like he was there. He felt removed, as if he was merely an outside observer.

As the sun creeped lower and the shadows started to disappear, Solomon had started to become more anxious. Had Lucifer even given Asmodeus the letter? Or had Asmo decided that he was done? His anxieties heightened until they reached a plateau of acceptance as he sat on one of the old creaky swings. He’d have to accept that his relationship with Asmodeus would be nothing more than what it always had been. He could be fine with that. He could learn to be fine with that. They would slowly go back to their normal, and with time they’d laugh all of this off.

But for now, he’d stay right in this spot before maybe heading home in the early hours of the morning. He had made a mistake. He’d have to live with the consequences of that mistake forever.

His fingers gripped the chains tighter.

He almost didn’t lift his head when he heard the gate creak open. Any number of people from any number of backgrounds could be coming in. After all, it didn’t seem like people really came to this park any more. So he kept his eyes trained on his feet as he slowly rocked on the swing.

Back and Forth.

Back and Forth.

“Solomon?”

His heart stopped and his eyes widened ever so slightly.

Had he really-?

Slowly he lifted his head. If Asmodeus had been a figure of his imagination in that moment, he wouldn’t have been surprised. But he never disappeared.

If only Solomon’s mind could comprehend the next years of his life after that moment. If only Solomon knew how all of his carefully made plans would change. If only he knew how happy the rest of his life would be after that night.

***

“Hellooooo. Earth to Solomon.”

Solomon squinted his eyes as the hat he’d had was lifted from his face and the sun began to assault his eyes. He squinted for a moment before chuckling at the sight before him, “Ah, I’m sorry, did I go somewhere?”

“Seemed like it,” Asmodeus plopped down next to him on their beach towel under the umbrella and let out a sigh. Solomon glanced over him. Asmodeus was wearing a button up with his swim suit. His button up to be more precise.

Solomon reached out to tug at the end of the shit and let out a little hum, “Not like you to cover up at the beach. I thought you liked to soak up the sun.”

“Well I would have, if someone hadn’t been so insistent on marking me up last night,” he huffed, playfully swatting at Solomon’s hand. This only prompted Solomon to scoot closer, to poke at Asmo’s perfectly manicured finger tips. At which point, Asmo took his hand.

Solomon tried to pull him closer, “They look good on you though, and people should know how loved you are.”

“Well, if you really want to show people how loved I am, you could walk with me on the shoreline,” Asmo pecked his lips to end his sentence, giggling at how red Solomon was becoming. Yes he loved being affectionate, but PDA left him feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I told you the ocean isn’t really all that.”

“Solomon!”

“Fish pee in there you know.”

“Please?” Asmodeus pouted, “It’s romantic. We could find shells. Do it for your husband?”

Solomon tapped his fingers against his stomach, a soft hum leaving his lips. He wasn’t fond of the ocean. Asmodeus was the one who thought a trip here would be romantic for their honeymoon, and he hadn’t been wrong. There was a lot to do on the boardwalk and their honeymoon suite had been phenomenal. He just didn’t think he’d be going anywhere near the ocean. But the more Asmodeus looked at him with those eyes, the further away Solomon’s resolve slipped.

Finally he started to get up, “Alright, we can walk by the shoreline, but I’m not getting in the water.”

“Oh of course honey dearest,” the look Solomon received was absolutely devilish. He didn’t really expect anything less of his husband and oh he loved it. He loved everything about him and he knew he was whipped. But he didn’t care. Whatever spell Asmodeus had him under was strong and Solomon knew he could never bring himself to say no. He’d give the world to Asmo if he would only ask.

So there he was, closer to the ocean than he’d like to be, his hands interlocked with his husband as his ring glinted in the sunlight. The water was cold and clear and felt nice on his feet after walking down in the hot sand. Every now and again a tiny sand crab would quickly burrow below or a jellyfish would come close to washing up on the shore. Children made sand castles as their parents watched on and there was a group nearby laughing and playing with a frisbee. Seagulls and other seabirds stayed nearby, looking for the occasional stray fry or unattended sandwich.

Asmodeus had been right. This was wonderful.

He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the week here with his wonderful husband. Solomon squeezed Asmo’s hand, running his thumb over the smooth skin of his hand. “Ah, I almost forgot. I promised you a house didn’t I?”

Asmo’s eyes sparkled when he turned to look at him. They’d been apartment hopping while Solomon finished up his last years of schooling. They’d talked about it ever since they’d gotten engaged. Well, Asmodeus gushed about it. He always said how he wanted to make a home with Solomon, how he wanted a large bathroom and a nice little studio to work on his designs. Solomon had played into it mentioning how he wouldn’t mind having an office space.

“You did.”

“I was so happy being here with you I almost forgot about it.”

“Solomon!”

“I’m kidding,” before he could get the words out, Asmodeus kicked some water his way. Well, of course this was unforgivable. Solomon bent over to splash water up at his husband. Then a war broke out. The two of them continued to throw water at each other, salt splashing on their lips and both becoming completely wet.

“I thought you said you weren’t getting in the water,” Asmodeus giggled as the two of them were waist deep in the ocean. However his giggles quickly turned into squeals as Solomon picked him up and threw them both into the water, his husband clung to him sputtering all the way until their knees could touch the sandy bottom.

“Of course that’s what I said but my husband makes me do crazy things,” he pecked his lips, feeling his cheeks heating up, “You know you ruined all of my perfectly planned out future?”

“Oh did I now?”

“Mmhm,” the two of them slowly made their way back far enough till they could sit on the beach, “I had everything pictured to a t, but then I fell in love with you, and now my future is even more wonderful than I could have ever planned.”

Solomon watched the tears pool at those pretty lashes and his pretty lips pucker out before Asmo lunged at him. The kiss was sweet and heartfelt, and Solomon could taste the salt water on him. The sun outlined him perfectly as he pulled away, and Solomon swore he was staring at an angel.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

Solomon couldn’t have imagined a better future than the one he was in now, and he knew that it would only get better from here. Asmo kissed him once more and Solomon felt like he was soaring. When they pulled away Solomon knew he was smiling like an idiot.

“We’re going to make a home together.”

He wasn’t sure how planned the rest of their lives were going to be, but he did know that it would be perfect.

[androidsfighting]

The Adventure Zone fic rec masterlist!

surprising no one, I read WAY TOO MUCH FIC so here’s an incomplete list of some of my fav fics in this fandom! mostly Taakitz and Taagnus, of course. Not in any particular order - adding most recent additions to the top. i made an effort to provide commentary but as you can see i gave up quickly

UPDATE (7/24/19) - added a bunch more fics i’ve read recently, and a couple amnesty fics at the bottom :)

Taakitz

The Winter Prince by tactfulGnostalgic

Taako is nobody’s saboteur. He’s just an ordinary assassin just trying to make ends meet, staying out of trouble (mostly) and keeping his nose clean (sometimes). But when a mysterious buyer makes him an offer he can’t refuse in exchange for the head of the neighboring prince, he ends up falling headfirst into the tangle of a foreign court — and the arms of its ruler, Prince Kravitz.

Blood and Bones and Photos by Evitcani

Kravitz has always dreamed of cities: wrapped in vines, streets peaceful and empty. He never knew the world before the end. Still, life goes on and on and on. The homes he's known are in compounds of chain-link fences patrolled by armed guards, feral zombies creeping around the edges who sing to him in the unsettled night.

There is no cure. There is no hope. There is only what little the survivors scraped together.

Then there's Taako.

And the new world that Kravitz was born into ends too.

Wrong Number by argentoswan

Taako texts a wrong number. Kravitz responds. Everyone else is confused, but they're going with it.

(6:32) so we have moved from strangling to murder (6:39) This is… still the wrong number. (6:41) i know i’m crowdsourcing ideas. quick, best way to hide an extremely tiny body?

A Bit Alarming by argentoswan

Taako gives up his freedom in exchange for the safety of his friends, and ends up locked in an enchanted castle with a surprisingly polite skeleton. Beauty and the Beast AU.

"'I’m afraid your friends were trespassing on my property. It was exceedingly impolite.' 'Yeah, and it’s super polite to lock them in the fucking dungeons.'"

study in light by weatheredlaw

He tells you things, things you don’t know what to do with. They fall out of his mouth and into your open hands, and you fumble them.

Deflection Toward The Relative Major by AuthorGod

He means to say all of this, but all that comes out is, “Why? Why choose me?” Instead of someone better suited he means; a warrior, a wizard, a priest.

I come back to this fic constantly. I love Kravitz-centric fic (surprise surprise) and this is one of the best there is I think

of aspen crowns and catskin down by mildlydiscouraging

The streets of London are slick and dark, and not just literally, although they are so often that too. Here there is not only murder, mystery, and mayhem, but magick as well. Here people go through their everyday tragedies and refuse to see the depths behind their troubles. Here two (and a half) detectives search for the truth.

In the dusk of autumn, with wind slicing down alleys, the good people of London are disappearing. It's up to Kravitz and Taako and, honestly, mostly Angus to solve the case, and maybe a couple other mysteries along the way.

SPOOKY VICTORIAN AU aka MY ENTIRE SHIT

those afternoons and evenings and does he project, does he have ideas? by mildlydiscouraging

The moments and years in between, in which feelings take root despite the constantly changing landscape. Alternatively: The world has been ending for forty years and Taako and Kravitz can't stop falling in love.

tazswap with Kravitz on the Starblaster, absolutely gorgeous prose

Reverie by Itdominic

There was a time Taako really could have taken or left it - life, and the world and whatever. Things aren't like that anymore, he tells himself, luckily, because this whole situation might get to be a real fucking drag otherwise.

heartbreaking but absolutely gorgeous

finale by teacuptaako

After everything, the distinction between alive and dead fades to a confusing grey.

In the wake of ‘The Day of Story and Song,’ Taako and Kravitz start to build their futures together: a labour of love, compromise, trust, and a slowly unravelling web of secrecy.

While the two of them grow closer and closer together, they and the rest of the world get further and further apart.

kravitz centric again, this is such a WEIRD fic and i literally haven’t stopped thinking about it since I read it

Drag Your Cities to the Sea (No Light, No Light) by  Desiree_Harding

"The months in Her retinue are long, and the work is hard. Her standards are high, and to satisfy them, Kravitz must be ruthless. But his conviction never falters. She is omnipotent. She is the avenging force of Justice, and Kravitz Her hand. She will keep the kingdom free, and for Kravitz to do her bidding is the greatest honor on this earth."

"Taako’s fingers curl tightly around the ropes of the Starblaster’s rigging as the ship cuts smoothly through the waves of the Sea of Souls below, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes on the horizon...In these moments, it’s freedom that hangs sweet on his tongue and settles in his lungs, and Taako loves nothing better."

It's a pirate AU! You know the rest!

i live for AUs

All the Things You Prayed For by @anonymousalchemist​ and @marywhal​

Taako's been dead for two years. Taako's been dead for seven decades. Depends how you count it.

Her brother is dead and Lup’s a whole lifetime into the future. It’s a brave new world out there and she’s trying not to think about it too hard. She gets the feeling that if she starts thinking, she won’t ever stop, and she can’t afford to be out of commission. She's the only Captain America the new century’s got.

Lup is Cap, Taako fell from a train, and eventually all ghosts come in from the cold. You guessed it—it's a TAZ/Marvel shakeup baby. We're bringing the party to you.

THIS FIC OWNS MY ENTIRE ASS

The Shape of Our Days Neverending by anonymousalchemist and marywhal

After the epilogue, Taako and Kravitz have a really good day. 

just some heckin good fluff amidst all this angst

Other Lives by marywhal

When Kravitz signed up for the job in Phandalin, he didn’t expect adventuring to become his life. He was bored playing for the well-to-do of Neverwinter, sure, but not this bored. He was supposed to make some quick cash, pay off his gambling debts, and go back to his comfortable existence as a bard. He wasn't supposed to join a secret organization trying to save the world.

But here he is, paralyzed on the floor of a crystallized laboratory, and he has yet to keep a suit intact through a single adventure

more tazswap! this is unfinished rn but it’s real good so read it anyway

Bury the Lead by marywhal

Taako’s senior year at Neverwinter High could be going better. Faced with a choice between joining the school’s floundering newspaper or being expelled, he opts for a career in journalism.

Lucretia, the paper’s editor, kind of wishes he'd gone the other way.

if you haven’t read this yet what are you doing with your life

These Unfinished Creatures by marywhal

Someone in Neverwinter is stealing souls from the astral plane. The Raven Queen’s favourite reaper is undercover and on the case.

Relearning how to be human is entirely incidental.

MORE spooky Victorian AU what did i do to deserve this fandom honestly

(you should read everything by marywhal but these are my favs)

our get-along suit by anonymousalchemist

"So, let me get this straight," the reaper says, scythe held flush against Kravitz's neck. A trickle of blood drips down toward his collar. Kravitz swallows shallowly. "You picked up a suit, and the suit happened to be a lich, and the lich wouldn’t let you go, so you just rolled with it?"

"His name is Keats," Kravitz says. "And. Er. Sort of?"

Our own, soft hearts by Wildgoosery (series)

Stories involving a Moon Wedding, its attendees, and its aftermath, written in wildly different formats.

you should read everything Goose has posted but this is one of the first Taakitz fics I read so I have a real soft spot for it

The Body Eclectic by SpaceJackalope

In which Kravitz has many feelings about being dead, having a body, and liking people and things.

A Quiet Refrain by @inkedinserendipity​

It starts with some of the most mediocre eggs Taako's ever clapped eyes on. Seven out of ten for taste. Zero out of ten for plating. Somehow, they're still the best damn eggs he's ever eaten.

(Or: Taako realizes he loves Kravitz back.)

it was your heart on the line by @inkedinserendipity​ and it’s sequels (links here)

one of many fics that inadvertently inspired synecdoche

Istus must be laughing. by writersstareoutwindows

"Whenever people talk about tattoos, Taako rolls down his sleeve. They’re sitting in a circle, usually drinking, laughing and elbowing and sometimes kissing. Whenever they realize Taako hasn’t said anything, he sips his drink, arranges his hair artfully over his shoulder, and says, 'Nah, nah, nah, my dudes, I don’t hold to that,' wiggling his fingers, 'mumbo jumbo tattoo fate-or-whatever bullshit. Chaboi Taako’s a free agent.'"

The present going forward. Memories in a jumble. Not a very neat story, but it's theirs.

another fic that inadvertently inspired synecdoche which i forgot until now!!

things left in the stars by mechanicalclock

You don’t collect things from places that you will never visit again, that’s foolish. It's about learning to let go in all the new ways, adapting quicker and quicker, having fun and forgetting.

Taako and Lup learn to remember.

a moment to bathe in our victory by AnonymousPuzzler

The apocalypse comes and goes. In the aftermath, Taako takes a bath, Kravitz worries too much, and some new feelings are reflected upon.

Taagnus

The end of the word does come and go, Page of Cups, Reversed, and Taking the dogs home by anonymous

About how the world is still here, and how going on can be done.

yellow by weatheredlaw

Washing the dishes, their fingers brushed in the soapy water of the sink and Taako felt a jolt.

Magnus turned and gave him a smile.

Strange Bedfellows by treshornybros (IamJohnLocked4life)

It quickly becomes a habit, and then routine. Magnus is oddly good natured about it. But then Magnus is good natured about everything, so maybe it's not that odd. No one else seems to notice.

They always sleep back to back.

Taako should find that comforting, and he does, at first. It's just like sleeping with Lup.

Sort of.

unremembering by  bluebatwings (series)

Their lives divided up into three parts: before, unremembering, and after. Love stories.

At the Interval by AuthorGod

Time grows stagnant. Taako watches as world become fractured and consumed, cultures and civilizations wiped out. All the potential a single person is capable of in a lifetime, just ripped away in a moment.

It doesn't get to him, and it doesn't get to him, and it doesn't until it does.

breaking the same old heart by tardigradeschool

Taako and Magnus in triptych: before, during, and after the Bureau.

The Blue Hours of Morning by daisybrien

Refuge takes its toll. Magnus and Taako talk it out, drunk on the living room floor.

Taagnitz

the only life you could save by @epersonae​ and hops (series)

this could also go in the Other category bc it’s All The Ships (including magcretia which isn’t even my thing but they write is so so so well that now it is my thing!) but I’m digging through my ao3 history and not finding much taagnitz that’s not  pwp/mine (a travesty) so it’s going in here. it’s also about taako and lucretia working their whole Thing out and it’s VERY VERY GOOD

no blinding light by provocation

Elves live much, much longer than humans. By the time most humans die, elves are just reaching adulthood.

Kravitz, on the other hand, is going to live forever.

the fic that made me ship taagnitz

in the focus by weatheredlaw

The sky was clear and the arms of the galaxy that surrounded them arched overhead as they lay in their sleeping bags, staring at the stars.

or: Kravitz knows there's room in all this for something between him and Magnus — he's just not sure what that looks like.

Dust by levelone

It was supposed to be simple: Taako was on TV, and Kravitz is a writer here for some pull quotes. Instead, when they meet in an empty diner in the middle of a desert, Taako says something impossible—and Kravitz believes him.

Oak and Mahogany by hideki16seiyuu

“Don’t try to pull one over on me, handsome. He’s going gray already.”

“He’s in his fifties now, Taako.”

“How much longer is left?”

“Longer than you’d think.”

---

Human lives can never match that of elves in length.

Take Up a Place Beside Me by goodnicepeople

"It's gonna be hard," Taako says, when they're alone again. "You can't... do that. Every time."

Or: Taako and Kravitz move in. Others move on. Some get dogs.

you are the life i needed all along by iwillbeyourgoal

along with the other memories he's gained from the stolen century, taako starts remembering his relationship with magnus on the starblaster.

these small hours by  ShowMeAHero

Taako and Magnus get their memories back, and now they need to negotiate some emotions, because they're having a hell of a lot of them all at once.

Other ships/Gen

I Have Seen the Fields Aflame by Desiree_Harding

She hadn’t meant to disappear. Had she known what was going to happen, that one weekend was going to lead to seven entire years without her brother, she never would have gone. But that was all it took.

A modern au in which Lup goes missing, and discovers that the coming home is maybe the hardest part of all of it.

i cried for like an hour after reading this

a thousand points of no return by anonymousAlchemist

Since wizard's daemons often settle as birds and urban legend says that elves are separated from their daemons, no one looks too closely at the fact that Taako and Lup are both single entities, missing the other halves of their hearts. They walk like people, they talk like people, and if they're hard to read because their daemons aren't fluffing up their feathers or swatting playfully with their paws, well, elves are notoriously enigmatic anyway.

This lasts until their first death.

All deaths on the Starblaster are strange. When Magnus first died on the animal planet, I'morko followed right after, both of their bodies dissipating into golden sparks, a strange inversion of the natural order. The pattern holds. Year after year, person and daemon alike dissipate into a fine mist of dust, knit together by the bond engine in the new plane.

During their fifteenth year, Taako is shot through the heart with a well-aimed magic missile. Lup screams and casts one last firebolt, spell-sculpting around their bodies, before unspooling into a fine golden sand.

snake eyed, with a sly smile by faehunting

The circus is a mystery that sets itself up for people who track its movements, for people who are desperate to find it, to find anything. The circus is a mystery that sets itself up for people to stumble upon.

In the morning, the circus is nothing but negative space and the revellers it left behind. They sit up. They try to wet the dust in their mouths. They start the journey anew.

creepy fae weirdness!!!! yes!!!!!

I’m With The Band by redqueentheory, Wildgoosery, and Woven_Gulch (series)

A series of connected stories, equal parts sentimental and horny, about how Brad and Taako and Kravitz fall in love.

wacky BDSM crack ship becomes Greatest Romance Novel I’ve Ever Read, has made me cry multiple times

these strange creatures by anonymousalchemist

Taako sweeps himself into the common area of the Starblaster with all the drama and panache that he reserves for alternate Tuesday afternoons. Barry ignores him with all the practice he has from a decade of alternate Tuesday afternoons.

“I’m exhausted,” Taako whines, draping himself across Barry’s shoulders, the sharp point of his chin poking into Barry’s collarbone. “I’ve been up since for-ev-er, working on this dumb transmutation thing for Lulu.”

“Go meditate, then,” Barry says, absently reaching up to pat Taako’s head.

“Meditate?”

“You know, meditation? Isn’t that, uh, one of your elf things??” Barry finally looks up from his book, barest hint of a wrinkle in his forehead. Taako shakes his head.

“Never heard of it, homeslice. Musta skipped that day at elf practice.”

Barry laughs.

“Elf practice, sure.”

you know... elf practice

all your saints and saviors by anonymousalchemist

It’s not so much that she wants to die per se, as much as it is that she’s done living. The female human life expectancy is seventy-two years on this plane (it was seventy-four years on her home plane) and she’s lost count of her birthdays. But the math is easy. She was twenty when she boarded the Starblaster. A hundred-twenty when they landed in Faerun. A hundred-thirty when the Hunger was defeated. She’s fifty six years overdue.

She’s done her job, is the thing. She saved the world, in exchange for youth, friendship, family. She gave up everything but determination. She considers it fair trade. But now Lucretia is a single-use tool whose purpose no longer exists.

In Her Bones by epersonae

She lives through the destruction of her home, but still they're separated, until Julia sees the green light, and the blue light, and has to figure out what to do next.

better give that heart a listen by tardigradeschool

Barry needs a fake husband if he wants to stay undercover. Magnus is more than willing to help him out. Davenport needs a vacation.

herald of a new dawn by inkedinserendipity

When Lucretia is five years old, she meets her familiar. At seven, she remakes it; at eight, she remakes it again.

Seventy years later it saves her from an unkind world. And a Century after that, it fixes a family that had started to break.

from me to you, with love by inkedinserendipity

Magnus shuts the drawer and says, almost absently, “Tell her I love her, okay?”

Kravitz pauses, debating. He takes a deep breath. “Magnus,” he says, and Magnus, detecting the shift in his tone, looks up immediately. “You know that she already knows, right? She knows that you love her,” Kravitz says gently. “You do tell her every time.”

Magnus chuckles, rubbing a sheepish hand along the back of his neck. “I know,” he says, turning a bit pink. “I just - I love her, you know? I really do. And I guess, when you love someone, you want to tell them that every chance you get.”

your stitches are all out (but your scars are healing wrong) by tardigradeschool

When it’s over, and she can barely feel what makes her herself anymore, the umbrella is tattered beyond repair. With her last traces of energy, Lup grasps for shelter, reaching out for somewhere to store her torn soul until she can be helpful again. At the edge of her awareness, she feels a familiar shape, a familiar warmth -- in her exhaustion she could almost mistake it for her own body. She reaches for it and pulls herself clumsily inside.

Safe and contained, she lets consciousness go.

Voidfish (Reprise) by inkedinserendipity

Angus McDonald is many things — the boy detective, for one. The youngest member of the Bureau of Balance. The unofficial little brother of the THB, however Taako insists he's actually their mascot. He’s a researcher, and a scholar. He's not a fighter. He’s not a hero.

But he can save the world all the same.

Patterns of Migration by goodnicepeople

Magnus builds a house. Angus finds a home. Migration brings things back, in turn.

Hard to Starboard  by BlueColoredDreams (series)

In the best world, it ends like this:

By starting over.

and the warmth will never die by Junkyard_Rose

Taako's been gone for maybe two years when Lup thinks she sees him shoplifting from a Hot Topic.

you ever read something that makes you astral project and you can't think about anything else for the rest of the day? me too

(in this category because it's mainly about the twins but it's also taakitz and blupcretia aka the ideal fic)

and at a certain age the child is grown by bimaukery

There are people in his grandpa's house.

AU where the IPRE family all moves in together and find the place less empty than they've been led to believe.

Amnesty

i left a light beside the bed for you by SyllableFromSound

"If she stares at the ceiling without blinking long enough, it starts to look fuzzy. Like there's a grainy film of static over the surface of the plaster. It makes her think of mist outside a window, of the big old tube TV that had sat in the living room of her house for her first few years of life and that had tingled warmly when she pressed her hand to the screen. Everything feels a bit fuzzy now, maybe because it's 3AM. Everything feels warm and a bit familiar.

Finally, Dani says, quietly, 'This is what I imagined it would be like if...if things had gone differently.'"

In which a couple of outcasts have some late-night chats and Aubrey ingests a foreign object to prove a point.

older than the trees by lamphouse

Summer is returning to Kepler, bringing with it humid late nights, not as many tourists as there used to be, and a certain moth man. Unfortunately, they're not the only ones.

Duck talks some shit out. Aubrey chills. Ned gets grifted. Indrid learns to see.

[samglyph]

Original Content Ahead

Prologue | Chapter 1 

Note: I will repost chapter one and the prologue with edits on a separate blog because there have been a few changes (the biggest one is that james is ten instead of eight). This is the last chapter that will be posted on this blog, 

please validate me

tw: kidnapping, tiny mention of murder, children being ignored and rude adults in general 

Chapter 2: Stranger Danger

“Pay up.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I won! I got the human! I won our game, so pay up!”

“You got the wrong one, idiot.”

James flicked his eyes back in forth between the two people involved in this exchange. He had been awake for awhile now, though he was starting to suspect the two in front of him either hadn’t noticed or simply didn’t care. He had woken up slowly, his head filled with fog, before everything rushed back to him all at once and he sat straight up.

The first thing he noticed was the lighting. It was weird… it wasn’t candlelight, it was blue, and it definitely wasn’t fluorescent, a word he had been very excited about when dad taught him how to say it.

Oh right. Dad. Tears had started to gather at the corners of his eyes again, but they stopped when the argument began. He hadn’t noticed the pair at first.

It was difficult to make out to many details in the low light, but he recognized his attacker immediately. Their long blond hair, and black eyes, and skin pulled tight over their abnormally long limbs, were all giveaways. The other one was different. They were shorter, and their skin didn’t look… correct. It was almost reflective in how smooth it was, and the color of it shifted when they moved.

“The Queen wanted the other one, Cicrow.”

“Well the other one never comes in the damn woods long enough for me to find him!”

“That’s a bad word.” James interjected before he could stop himself. Two pairs of inhuman eyes turned toward him.

“What?” His kidnapper, Cicrow, asked.

“My dad says that’s a bad word. He says it sometimes when bad things happen but he said it’s bad.” James couldn’t really tell, but he thought he saw their large eyes roll. The pair went back to their conversation, almost as if the boy wasn’t there at all.

“Look, no one caught the other one, he went back to the house before we even got the chance. Besides, I don’t think the queen cares anymore. But I still won.”

“Well, he’s awake now, so what should we do with him?”

“We can still give him to the queen. That’s what we always do, what are you even asking for?”  Cicrow sneered.

“Is asking a question  a sin now?

“Probably.” Cicrow paused and turned fully towards James, who leaned back. Their black eyes widened, and suddenly James’s alertness seeped away, until he felt very, very tired.

James woke up again in a different room, if you could call it that, one that was much less devoid of life than the last one. In fact, as he nervously turned his head to take in his newest surroundings, he could see many creatures, both human-looking and not. There were more people than he’d ever been around. It made him nervous. He sat up on plush grass, and noticed that the walls were made of trees grown so tightly together that there weren’t any gaps. People murmured quietly and glanced down at him, making him shrink a bit under the gazes. Before him on a raised platform sat a woman, and while ten year olds raised in the middle of nowhere don’t have a strong grasp on the standard of beauty, that was the only way to describe her. Beautiful. She sat relaxed on a throne made out of gnarled root, having an air of indifference that made everyone else in the room care more about her. Her long white dress flowed to the ground, and seemed to almost dissolve as it hit the ground. But once again, James realized, while her eyes were a more normal shape and size than Cicrow’s, they were filled with inky blackness. She peered down at him, then looked behind him. He glanced back too, only to jerk a bit when he realized Cicrow was standing right behind him, though he relaxed when he noticed the look on their face. It seemed that they were as terrified as he was.

“Changeling,” The queen spoke, and her voice flowed like honey that had lost its sweetness, “What have you brought me?” Cicrow coughed.

“Your majesty, I have brought you the boy who lives in the Woodward house,” Cicrow replied, polite yet clipped. The queen’s dark eyes widened in surprise, but not for long. She looked down at the boy.

“And what is your name?”

“J,” He replied, remembering the rule. Her eyes narrowed as Cicrow’s had, before returning to her casual demeanor.

“How old are you?”

“I’m ten.”

She hummed in response. “And do you know where your father is?”

“I don’t know where I am, ma’am.” He spoke, clearly, as his dad would never want him to be impolite. She clicked her tongue, then turned to face someone standing next to her, who hadn’t been there before.

“Take him to Pieridae. My child could use an attendant.” The woman she was speaking to glanced at James’s frightened face and looked back at the queen, but said nothing. Cicrow felt differently.

“My deepest respect, your majesty, but this is simply a human boy,” They said, “I doubt he could even keep up with your child, much less properly attend to the prince.”

“I am well aware. Would you rather we killed him?” Cicrow and James eyes widened simultaneously. James opened his mouth to speak, no longer feeling very polite, but Cicrow beat him to it.

“Of course not your majesty. That would be a waste of a hunt.”

She sighed, a breathless, trivial thing, “Yes, I guess it would, wouldn’t it? Just,” In all her regality and aloofness, James thought the Queen seemed tired, “Take him to Pieridae,” she ordered to the attendant before whispering, “keep them both out of my sight.”

“Yes, my Queen,” The woman bowed, and began walking towards James, who in panic stood up and backed away, bumping into Cicrow. The woman paused and looked at the queen, as if awaiting a more specific order. The Queen closed her black eyes in what James assumed was exasperation.

“I guess I shouldn’t waste my own,” She said, “Cicrow, you will be in charge of delivering ‘J’,” She said the name with the tiniest hint of malice, “to Pieridae’s court, and in making sure he stays there.” James could feel Cicrow tense of up behind him.

“Of course, my Queen,” They said, obviously disagreeing. They reached up and placed their hands on James’s shoulders, “Right away.”

“You’re dismissed.” She said, and that was the end of the conversation. James could tell that if he attempted to speak now, the response would be negative, if there was even a response at all. So he allowed Cicrow to turn him around and push him out of the room. A doorway had opened between two of the trees when he wasn’t looking, but as they walked out it shifted closed again. James was busy taking in the details of the hallway, the stone arches that looked far to old and the tiny aliens mushrooms that littered the floor, when he heard the scream. He jumped when an animalistic screech left Cicrow, and he turned around to see them absolutely fuming.

“This is ludicrous,” They hissed, “I’m the best gods damned hunter she has and she’s wasting me on, on, what, babysitting?!” James could tell they weren’t talking to him, but he felt the need to add his thoughts anyway. Children raised with very little human contact don’t always understand when opinions are and are not wanted. Children raised with a lot of human contact still don’t.

“It’s sort of your fault, though,” He said, matter of factly. “When my dad isn’t home, he always calls Ms.Lisa over to take care of me. And when we go to the hospital, a nurse has to watch me when my dad isn’t there. And my dad isn’t here now, so now you have to watch me.” They looked down at him with hatred and muttered something angrily. Likely more bad words.

“Let’s go, you little leech.” They finally said, ushering James farther down the hall. It was a long trek, or at least it seemed to be. It was dim in the tunnel, the only light seemingly coming from the mushrooms, and lightning bugs that clung to the ceiling. James thought it was pretty, though there wasn’t much time to enjoy it. Cicrow moved quickly thanks to their height and James had to jog to keep up. Before long the hallway came to a stop before a large set of dark wooden double doors.

“Now, J,” Cicrow said, much more calm than they had been moments ago, “When you meet the Prince, be… better than you were with the Queen.

“What does that-”

“Just don’t be so… human. Be quiet.” James would have responded, said something about how he hadn’t said that much at all, and that he couldn’t very well stop being human, but at that moment the doors swung open, seemingly of their own volition. Cicrow and James entered the room, and James took in the scenery.

While the throne room and the hallway had certainly been fascinating, and far more interesting and intricate than the rooms in the Woodward family house, this one took the cake. James stepped through the doors, and his sneakers sunk into soft sand. The entrance was a small beach, that only went a few feet forward before dipping into calm water. Lily pads and other water flora floated undisturbed, and koi fish and frogs could be seen swimming or hopping near the shore. Stepping stones rose neatly from the water, and they led to a large stone island in the center of the room, if you could call it that. The lake seemed to be the size of the entire hospital parking lot, James rationalized, if it was round. There may have been more accurate descriptions, but that was the largest area that came to James’s mind in that moment. The island in the center was flat, dark gray slate, but appeared to be covered in plush pillows and blankets, and other unnatural trinkets James couldn’t make out. On the far edge, he could make out the form of a small figure curled into pillows with their back turned.

“Come on,” Cicrow called out to James, and began to step gracefully across the stones. James, on the other hand, had more trouble. He was much shorter, and ten year olds aren’t well-known for being graceful. He almost tumbled into the water on multiple occasions, but somehow Cicrow always managed to turn around and grab him before he slipped. Their irritation over having to do this was overwhelmingly obvious.

When the pair finally made it across the stretch of water, James watched as Cicrow knelt and lowered their head, making them roughly the same height as he was.

“Prince Pieridae,” They announced, in a similar tone to the one they had used when addressing the queen, “I have come on request of your Mother, Her majesty High Queen of the Fair Folk, Slayer of the Great Shade, Mistress of the Hunt, Lady of the-”

“Oh gods, would you shut up already!” A high pitched voice rang from where the figure was curled, and James watched as they stretched out and turned to face them, eyes half lidded and features filled with sloth.

Prince Pieridae was interesting to look at. He looked nothing like his mother, to start with, but gave off the same air of indifference and privilege that she did. His black hair was swept back and held in place with a silver tiara that spiked upwards. He was dressed in light green reminiscent of lichen, and black lines spread across the outfit like branches coming out of his middle. He sighed and pushed himself up from the ground and started walking over to the two at the edge of the island, opening his eyes as if to judge them. And that was when James noticed them. His eyes.

James had half been expecting the same black irises that Cicrow and the Queen possessed to adorn the Prince’s face as well, but to his surprise that was not the case. Pieridae’s eyes gleamed yellow in the low light, slitted like the feral cat’s that occasionally visited the Woodward’s porch.

Or perhaps they were snakes eyes, and perhaps the prince had a tongue to match, just like his mother had warned.

🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️

WHelp thanks for reading. Reblogs > likes but i guess since im gonna repost it doesnt really matter. Pls give me feedback. 

[ignisisthicc]

The Curse - Story of the Night Child (Part 1)

//before we get into this I have a few things to address:

1.) this is all taking place during the boys' childhoods although in coming chapters time will progress and there'll probably be a time skip somewhere I haven't really secured much of this plot yet

2.) secondly this is probably going to be updated very vERY slowly so um... I apologise but I really don't want to rush the plot and ruin it and so I'm going to take my time trying to make each part the best it can be

3.) i don't own any of these characters apart from the ocs mentioned ! (I feel like there may not be many other ocs though)

4.) I'm new to the fandom so I am aware that some things might be incorrect or some facts might be kind of vague, but there isn't a lot of detail on other characters like Ignis's past so I'm going to try my best to keep it accurate and not write about what I'm not sure of. Please be patient with me guys>•<

5.) this is my first post as you can probably see so feedback is greatly appreciated! that's all I have to say for now, so read on and let me know what you think !

***

Sunlight.

Such rich, golden radiance, casting it's glow on the people below and their beautiful city. It reflected off of the creamy stone walls and illuminated the fresh, vibrant grass, a spotlight in a forever blue sky.

A girl of perhaps twelve years stood by a window, which was purposely topped with a curved roof, as if to shield the girl from this warmth, this radiance that immediately put everyone in the Crown city in a good mood. Only a sliver of it slipped it's way into her dark chambers, the white streak luminous against the dull, granite-coloured floor. The girl, as if in a trance, held her hand out to this light, tentatively reaching her fingers out to touch it, to feel it's soft embrace.

And then it happened.

She remembered, and there she was again, reliving her past. Dancing through the city, a melodious laugh escaping her lips as she twirled in her fern green summer dress and stepped out into the sunlight.

Hot, searing pain.

Screeching, her skin feeling as if it had been set on fire, patches of mahogany red spreading like wildfire across once smooth, marble skin.

And she was back in the present, retracting her hand from the sliver of light she was about to mistakenly bask her fingers in.

She was cursed, and her curse was to never be able to set foot in the daylight ever again.

She was the night child.

***

Ignis Scientia looked up from the shoe he was tying to meet eyes with King Regis, who was approaching him and the young child he accompanied in strong, confident strides, his stance always emanating such power and regality.

Regis was a kind man - and had proven his soft heart to Ignis, looking out for him when he had no one else and when he had been orphaned from such a young age. His son, Noctis, meant a great deal to the boy, and he took especially good care of him, acting as an older brother figure and always sticking by him when he was on his own.

Noct had also lost his mother when he was very young, and Ignis, knowing the pain of no longer having a parent by one's side, immediately stepped in to look after Noctis and make sure he had company, someone who would read him bedtime stories, cook for him, and like now, tie his shoelaces, until he one day learnt how to do them himself. Although Regis had encouraged Ignis to watch over Noctis for him and try to remain close with the boy, Ignis naturally found himself doing so anyway, his caring and paternal side shining through and causing him to behave this way towards the younger child.

His majesty now stood before them, a tall man with a kind face and twinkling eyes, who greeted both young boys by their names before announcing some important news.

"I'd like you both to come with me today. There's someone for you to meet - a child around the same age as you, Ignis - who I'm sure you'll definitely get along with just fine."

At this new information, Ignis's eyes widened in curiosity, though he merely nodded, whereas his counterpart, Noct, reacted in a slightly more... informal manner on hearing the news.

"Someone our age? Who? Why do we have to meet them? Is it important?" The young child rambled, a slight whine to his tone which made the king chuckle.

"Now now, Noct," he said, ruffling the inquisitive child's hair, which elicited an annoyed sound from the young one as he shook his head to fix his hair again.

"Just come and you'll see. It's very important that you do. This person is someone who would make an excellent friend to the both of you, and they too would benefit from making friends with you both, as they are quite lonesome themselves."

Ignis was quick to catch on with what he meant by this. Regis was referring to their upbringing, the incomplete families they had that the mystery person also seemed to share. He wondered if they had anyone else, a single parent like Noct's, or if they truly were alone like himself. At this thought, Ignis felt a slight pang of pain in his chest. He knew the feeling of solitude and loneliness all too well himself, and knew that if this person also grew up the way he did, they would have known these emotions very well too.

Instead of enquiring to hear more about this anonymous child, he turned to the young prince, standing up from where he was tying his shoes earlier.

"We should listen to your father, Noct. I'm sure this person we've to meet will be a great friend to us," he told him, hoping the boy would listen the first time and not refuse his suggestion. "Besides, weren't you curious to see who they were?"

"I... guess," the child responded, though he didn't seem too convinced. "But if we go now, when will we play our game? You said you were going to show me that trick you did last time..." Noctis pouted.

"I'll show you right after," Ignis promised. "Let's just go see this person for now." Regis nodded in thanks to Ignis' interference. Being close in age with the young child, he had an easier time convincing him to follow orders that were given, though the boy was quite rebellious and made it often a difficult task. Still, this didn't mean at all that he was impolite, rather the opposite; as a prince manners were one of the first things he was taught and was made to put them straight into practise. However, he did have a bit of an attitude at times, which was all but part of his personality, though many were not particularly fond of this sassy trait.

The large corridor was silent, save for the echoing footsteps of the three who made their way to meet the anonymous person. Streaks of sunlight peeked through the arched windows, burning into the floor and walls. The young prince acquired a slight skip in his step when he noticed the pattern it made on the floor, jumping over the highlighted areas of the ground and dodging them, playing this little game with himself to make the long walk a tad bit more bearable. Regis looked over at the boy and smiled fondly, though he spoke no words. The love the king had for his only child was immeasurable, and perhaps something that the Prince would never fully understand or recognise until he himself would one day bear his own children.

Finally, the three of them reached a door towards the front of the palace, a chamber that was often considered a sort of "waiting room", if one seeked an audience with the king. Regis placed his hand firmly on the handle, though he stopped to turn to Noctis before revealing the stranger inside.

"Noct," he murmured, though his eyes were serious. "Remember to behave."

Before the offended prince could complain to his father about the statement that had just been made, the door swung open, and inside, a young girl around the same age as the young advisor sat patiently, her legs swinging from the seat she was on, and a parasol held over her head which shielded her from any possible source of light. She turned, her eyes surveying the new company she had before standing and curtseying politely, her head bowing respectfully.

"Your majesty," she spoke, her voice as soft and quiet as a mouse. "It is a pleasure to meet you both. My name is Nova Esther Lamentia. I hope we can be good friends."

The girl looked up finally, cheeks gently flushed, to see the two boys watching her wide eyed, though she was sure it was merely from curiosity. She was a strange spectacle to behold: a porcelain doll, skin as pale as snow, bandages wrapped around her arms, and the loud mark that splashed across her right cheek, a mahogany firey red, though it seemed dull now under the shade of her parasol.

Regis smiled kindly at the young girl, gently nudging Noct forward so that he would introduce himself to her.

"Oh, it's nice to meet you too," he replied, nodding to her politely. "I'm Noctis."

"The pleasure is all mine," came a voice from behind Noct, and stepping forward, the older male bowed towards Nova, his lips pulled into a soft smile. "My name is Ignis Scientia."

Though his actions were swift and formal, the boy could not ignore the sudden thudding in his ears, caused by the hot rush of his blood, and he knew straight away that they had turned pink out of embarrassment again.

Though the girl before him was a peculiar sight, he found her almost mesmerising; with her eyes as black as night, skin creamy and pale, her small rosy lips like a doll's, ebony hair that fell about her waist, which stopped just above the tufts of the ivory dress she adorned, patterned with pale pink ribbons, it's design too matching the one on her parasol. He had never seen the likes of her before, and it made him all the more inquisitive, being ever so curious as to how she had gained such scars and wounds that she had to be wrapped in bandages, and that she carried around with her this parasol when the day was so pleasant and warm. And perhaps it was so for that, to shield her from the heat, as Ignis knew and saw many who dealt with the sunlight by using the shade of a parasol.

Despite his burning curiosity and all the questions he had that he so wished to ask, a certain prince beat him to it, his curiosity also at a peak.

"Why do you have an umbrella with you, by the way?" Noct blurted out, his head tilted in confusion. "I thought they were for rainy days. And what happened to your arms? Were you hurt?"

At this, the girl's eyes widened, and she stepped back, hiding her bandaged arms behind her back.

"Noct," both the king and young advisor spoke at once, and the boy found himself shrinking away from their reprimanding voices.

"I was just asking!"

"Forgive my son," the king spoke apologetically, outstretching his hand to the girl. "He often forgets his manners."

Noctis bowed his head, pouting at the floor, though he did not defy his mistake. "I apologise for my rudeness."

Tentatively, the girl placed her small hand in the King's, allowing him to pull her to his side. She smiled shyly at Noct, shaking her head.

"It's alright," she replied. "I got these in an accident, the same way I did with my scar." She pointed to her face, although it was beyond obvious she was talking about the only visible marking on her face.

At this, Noct's lips formed a round 'o' shape, but before he could ask any further, his father interrupted with his loud, booming voice.

"Nova is without her parents just like you, young Ignis," Regis informed him, and on hearing his name the boy reattained his focus, paying attention to each and every word of the king. "I want you to both treat her kindly and with respect. She is a very gifted young girl, Noct, and has also been given a place and title in this palace that she will acquire once she is of age. For now, she lives with other family, but she will be here frequently. I shall hope you all get on."

"But of course," Ignis responded, his head bowing towards the king. Regis smiled, he knew he could trust Ignis with anything. However, he wasn't so sure if it was the same with his son, although he had some faith and knew that inside, Noct was a kind and good child.

"Then I shall leave you both to show her around. She has already seen this floor and the gardens as I have asked the maids to do so, but I trust that you may show her the rest."

Once again, the older boy nodded, and with that, Regis turned to exit the room, hesitating as he turned once again on remembering something.

"Ah, Nova," he addressed the girl, eyes serious as he held her gaze. "If there is ever a problem you are faced with, do come to me or inform the boys. We are at your aid."

At this, Nova nodded, smiling in thanks towards the king, to which he returned the action. Thus, he exited the room, leaving the three children in a slightly awkward silence.

"So," Noct spoke up, turning to the girl beside him. "What do you want to see first?"