#Just give me more FAE! Not this “grey” character that's not so

[room217prayer]

I actually hate how Rhysand commands and impone himself to the other High Lords.

I really, really, hate it and him so much, why SJM do you have to give everything to one character and to his little group?

#screaming because whyyyy? I hate so much the “not for u but for him yes” mentality #I would've actually like him if he was the villain he is suppose to be #if she actually wrote him cunning INSIDE the limit she imposes in the story to the other characters #he doesn't need to be the strongest (which he's not when needed) the most gentle and just of the all #show how he can work inside hos limit even being hated because of his personality and action but at las needed because a silver tongue #because a silver tongue / threatening / bargain could work a long way and be more interesting than whatever #was the HL meeting ever was... where Beron (damn him) shine and I actually liked him there #Just give me more FAE! Not this “grey” character that's not so #acotar critical #sjm critical #anti rhysand

[bookishwithathought]

ACOSF Bonus Chapter Breakdown

Part II - Azriel and Elain

***IT IS LONG, BUT I WANTED TO DOWNLOAD ALL MY THOUGHTS ON HERE. IF ANYONE READS IT THROUGH, BLESS YOU. WILL CONTINUE IN FUTURE POSTS***

Part I: https://www.tumblr.com/bookishwithathought/749493410186117120/acosf-bonus-chapter-breakdown-part-i-azriel-and

**This is just me, analyzing the life out of the bonus chapter and all the possibilities. My thoughts and no one else's. If you agree, great. If you disagree, love it. If you want to share why you disagree, love it even more. If you are disrespectful while disagreeing, I kindly request that you move along and if you insist you will be left to argue with yourself**

How did I miss this important bit from the first part?

This implies that Az and his shadows are a package deal. The shadows are an important part of his character, his very being. Throughout the series there are so many comments and observations about the shadows, and if they weren't important then the author would have no need to give them the amount of attention she has.

BACK:

These details are important, especially since it's been established the shadows are an important part of Az's very being.

When comparing the shadows' behavior toward Elain to everyone else in Azriel's life, it's worth noting that they vanish in Elain's presence, or move in a way that implies uncertainty, insecurity or fear.

Elain was a social butterfly prior to being turned Fae, open and inviting, and this subtle forwardness seems to point to her being on her way to returning to herself, moving forward from mourning Graysen and her mortal life.

Azriel is letting his emotions override his reasoning.

To consider:

It can either be positive, where emotion leads to action for good, or negative, where it can lead one to ignore warning signs.

2. His conscience was warning him and he chose to ignore. His wants and needs broke forth, overriding his senses and dismissing any potential repercussions or fallouts from this decision.

"I want what I want, consequences be damned"

*Clearly Elain is attracted to Az, otherwise she wouldn't have leaned into him. We see her beginning to just want again.

(I'm redacting because I want to keep it as PG as I can)

Why wait for his shadows to go to sleep to allow himself this freedom?

Possibilities:

His shadows know it's wrong and would encourage him against it

Azriel knows it's wrong and doesn't want to have his companions whisper into his conscience

Azriel felt uncomfortable acting on his desires in the presence of his shadows and didn't want an audience

My personal thought: It's like hiding something important from your greatest friend who'll always be honest with you and hold you accountable because you don't want to be honest with yourself and you don't want to leave any room for your conscience to be awakened.

Personal note: I love the half-hearted attempt at resisting lol at least their conscience wasn't completely thrown out of the window.

Her arousal: reminds me of Violet Bridgerton and wanting to be "gardened" in Queen Charlotte (iykyk) lol. In all seriousness, this points to Elain being ready for love again. She is ready for touch, for intimacy.

Side note: Shout out to Azriel for still showing self-restraint, letting Elain take the lead on this. It's possible that he's letting her take the lead to appease his conscience, to be able to point out that he wasn't the initiator (not that it matters, at the end of the day, if you're still a willing participant. If there is blame to be had, you share it regardless of who started it) but I'd rather think the best of him in this moment, letting Elain set her level of comfort and pace here.

Trusting and hopeful and open:

Possibilities

Elain was ready to think forward, of the future, of the possibilities

Tied with her not knowing the darkest/roughest/morally grey parts of Az so she only has an image of him that's incomplete. Implies her desires for Az is incomplete because she doesn't know him wholly

Terrible...sacrilege...tainting...:

Possibilities

Az feels unworthy of goodness because he sees himself as unworthy of goodness

He idolizes Elain, putting her on a pedestal

He sees himself as not good enough for Elain, not even his presence is good enough for her. It corrupts, it taints, it stains.

He views Elain as innocent and pure, which in itself can be patronizing. We could point to the following excerpt from ACOSF

Personal note: I wondered, while reading this passage, if this was also directed at Az himself (I fail to remember the right terminology for this), because based on the bonus chapter he certainly believes he has a darkness Elain shouldn't be exposed to. So much so that he comments he knew she had no idea of his "unsavory" side, and the only way for one to truly know another is if the other person reveals who they are. He hid parts of himself, either because he thinks Elain is too good and pure or because he's worried of how she would react to who he honestly is. Either way, hiding parts of yourself is dishonest.

Immediate satisfaction. Here Azriel isn't thinking of a future with Elain. He has a desire he wants to see satisfied. After that? In this one moment, there is no "after that." Not to say there wouldn't be later. For now, there isn't.

{Side note on "Offer and permission": love to see on page consent.}

To be continued...

#azriel bonus chapter #azriel shadowsinger #elain archeron #acosf #lucien vanserra #wandering mind #sjm give us peace

[ghouljams]

ghoul i beg you use your eternal knowledge (jk) on one such as me and explain how threat is a sex addict even though they dont experience sexual attraction.

like i understand ace people have sex because of xyz, its a fun activity for them etc.

but how does it work for threat themselves? like if they arent attracted to crybaby why do they do it? does threat get something out of it? and what exactly is threat addicted to, the act of sex itself, the release at the end of it? it cant be crybaby or soap since theyre not attracted to them.

my brain is just terribly confused and i might have a migraine

Oh I am so excited to answer this and talk about Threat's meta you have no idea. I could write essays on Threat and the work that went into their character.

The short answer for anyone that doesn't want to read meta is this: Threat is addicted to the endorphin rush of sex, they're addicted to feeling good and feeling in control, sex for Threat is a means to an ends not an expression of attraction. They are romantically interested in Crybaby and I think it's unfair to say they're not attracted to Crybaby, but it's a different sort of attraction. Crybaby is like.... like finding a really good dealer, Threat is attracted to what Crybaby can give them(sex) but not Crybaby herself. If that makes sense.

On to the meta...

So the long version of Threat's sex addiction is this: they were conceptualized as a character that only cares about Soap for one thing(sex) but doesn't care about him as a person, sort of as a mirror to Soap's own addiction to artists. So sex addiction was something I thought would be an easy "this is what you're doing to people" that I could use against Soap. Threat is not attracted to people, they're attracted to what they get out of people, the sex and the meal afterwards.

I think a lot of the way I think about Threat's asexuality and sex addiction comes from my own ideas on sex and sexuality which is that they are two completely different things. Having sex(or not having sex) is a physical thing that you do and really is only impacted by your sexuality in terms of who you have sex with. But even then there are a lot of circumstances that lead people to different sexual encounters. The thing Threat gets out of sex is the endorphin rush, they get the good happy feelings and the chemical dopamine release.

There's a lot about Threat's feelings about romance that impact their idea of sex, which also is impacted by their sexuality. Threat is what I would call demi or grey Romantic. They don't really have the right settings for romance, and finding Crybaby was a lot like finding a needle in a haystack. Threat views sex(and intimacy generally) as consumptive, as something they take without any real care fir the person they're having sex with. So Love also becomes consumptive, which is great for Crybaby who also views love in terms of bondage and consumption. Threat likes sex with Crybaby, but that also isn't why they're with her, they're with her because they've twisted up their own version of love with her.

Now with Soap it's a power thing. Threat is addicted to the power that they can get from Soap during and after sex. The fae trap on their back functions sort of like a repurpose-er taking the tethers that want to latch onto Threat and turning them into webs for Threat to pull magic off of(or cut people with depending). Threat is also a bit of an adrenaline junky so having Soap actively hunting them and also having sex with them is just great for all the nice chemicals lighting up their brain. The release is great, but Threat also gets some sort of reward after sex, be that magic or physical (blood and guts) food, which keeps them coming back for more and more and more.

Threat knows what to say and how to pretend they're attracted to people, but it's an act. They can pick out what other people would find attractive and compliment it, but they don't really get it. It's all a facade meant to lure people in so Threat can get what they want out of them.

Actually, in a way Threat is addicted to Crybaby... Crybaby is stable, she's a safe house, she'll always take Threat back and bare her neck, it's a power play for Threat and it works every time. Threat is not a powerful fae by any stretch, they're strong compared to humans but next to Soap they're barely on the same scale. Threat wants that power and sex is the best way they know how to get it.

So yeah idk if any of that makes sense, but anyway Threat has chemical imbalances that they're medicating with sex because Witch won't sell them weed and it's not like they're going to fall in love or feel any attachment to the people they're sleeping with so they have no qualms with murdering them afterwards. Crybaby is a romantic exception. Soap is an adrenaline exception. Threat is attached to Crybaby because they're in love with her, but that has nothing to do with sex. Actually if they stopped having sex that would be great for Threat because sometimes they really want to bite her head off afterwards...

#ghoul speaks #x oc #cod x oc #oc: threat #oc: crybaby #oc x oc #meta

[elrielmoments]

i feel as though the Gwyn ordeal within the fandom is giving the same as how some people are anti anything to do with the IC or Feysand (Feyre and/or Rhys) because of an unhealthy alcoholic Nesta’s opinion in the beginning of ACOSF and hear me out, the overt sexualization/self insert these “fans” have with Gwyn is giving the same as people only loving unhealthy Nesta because she is a self insert for all of the hatred they have for the series because in their minds it’s now “canon” these characters are “evil”, as though they don’t understand what morally grey means and same with Elain, she threatens specific people’s self insert with Azriel (or the others she’s associated with) the same way the Nesta stans have hatred for Feysand and Cassian because it threatens their “canon” of what Nesta is

(by over sexualization i mean shoving an traumatic SA survivor into BDSM fan art and completely ignoring how closed of and sheltered she still is by the end of the book because of her trauma and being re traumatized especially when she was in my opinion, anything but sexual in the book and rightfully so. in another way it’s feeling the same as people romanticizing Tamlin when he was physically abusing Fae Feyre to the point it would’ve killed Mortal her, they take a canonically traumatic thing and just rip the page of canon text in half while going “haha no, that’s not it silly” and then handing you essentially a fanfic as “proof” for their “theories”/their canon because that’s what it is- ‘their canon’ not Sarah’s. i just mean they’re taking Gwyn’s trauma away to have a character that wasn’t written into the story to serve their own needs as a reader instead of reading a different series the same way they took Feyre’s trauma away to go “awwww poor baby Tam-Tam” thusly taking the abuse he inflicted on Feyre out of him as a character to romanticize him. i don’t know if this made any sense, or if it was a decent comparison, my apologies. i just don’t feel like things would’ve gotten this bad if it was what is was, a crackship and nothing more because maybe then they would’ve at least- maybe, hopefully, been even a little more respectful of Gwyn having been traumatized. coincidentally, all the characters the hate is over, not including the Archeron sisters, are canonically side characters and i don’t why that pisses people off so much.)

The Archeron sisters and bat boys are the main characters of the series. That is clear and is shown throughout the series.

If anyone wants to comment on this post with their opinions of how people treat Gwyn and how they view fanon Gwyn as canon Gwyn, please feel free. In my opinion, Gwynriels depictions of Gwyn are disturbing. They sexualize her and it’s honestly wrong. After what she has gone through, creating art and coming up with “theories” that involve Gwyn in a sexual way make me completely uncomfortable.

Regarding Nesta, she went through a lot and dealt with her emotions in a very unhealthy way. There is no other way to put it. She was harmful to herself and was going down a very bad path. Had Rhysand and Feyre not stopped her, she would have still been going down a bad path and never would have healed. Nesta has also been very mean and rude throughout the series. That’s just a fact. Was there a reason for it? Yes. But does that reason excuse her actions and the way she acted before she healed? No.

I don’t know what you mean regarding the Azriel and Elain part. People could easily read the books and imagine themselves as Elain if they wanted to. Maybe then they would see all the buildup she has with Azriel throughout four books and a bonus chapter. They just choose not to do that.

Again, if anyone has anything else to add to this please feel free in the commets.

#pro elain #pro azriel #elriel #pro elriel #elriel supremacy #elriel endgame #nesta archeron

[prpfs]

Dystopian search. 🧟‍♀️

hello, welcome to my new and improved ad. i am twenty two, my pronouns are she/her and i am a searching for a zombie apocalypse rp. i've been on hiatus for a couple months due to some health issues but i've been bitten by the writing bug once more. i'm an advanced literate writer to a novella style. writing is my escapism, so with that being said -- plotting is essential for more. i adore headcanons and plots and creating little things together. i need the enthusiasm to be returned because it helps keep me invested in the characters and world we build. another important factor for me is creating pinterest boards, i don't know why it's such a game changer for me but it is. i love finding art and songs that fit, i love visuals. all of it! so i ask if my writing partners align with me on that. i will also only write with those eighteen and over.

what i'm looking for in terms of plots, is original dystopian / zombie apocalypse romance plots. i ADORE it. i play male and female muses, i'm good with any pairing but right now i do have a small lean towards mxf pairings, i don't mind which role i take. i will list here some of the tropes i adore so you can get the idea of what i'm looking for. . . enemies to lovers, villains, morally grey characters, forced proximity, tension, one bed, star crossed lovers, forbidden love, gods/goddesses, fae, vampires, elves, grumpy x sunshine, "who did this to you", touch them and die, found family, soulmates/mates, war themes, there are so many more but i feel like it will become tiresome to read so i will stop here, however, if any of it interests you, please feel free to interact or reach out and shoot me a message. i write on discord! another thing to note is the face claims i use are either realistic art or actors/actresses. if you only use female muses, you are welcome with me too! i just request that there isn't any overly submissive characters, i like having some spice and some bickering between the characters.

hopefully i've peaked your interest, i hope to find some passionate fantasy writers. much love!

give a like and anon will get back to you

#oc roleplay #oc rp

[mollish-art]

mmmmm. How about cranboo and Tubbo (if you have any) and then just regular Minecraft/dsmp worldbuilding?

Omg I have so many headcanons for them it's been so long since I've had the excuse to talk about old beeduo on main lmao - they used to mean so much to me! Anywho - let's dive in :)

TW: burn scars, blood, long post, beeduo I guess

I took the popular fanon design of c!Tubbo as a faun/goat hybrid critter and RAN with it. I wanted him to come across with a similar vibe to an LOTR dwarf, if that makes sense: short but strong, capable of great warmth to friends he keeps close and great coldness to the enemies he keeps even closer.

Of course, he has his iconic burn from the firework explosion that marred half of his face, blinding him in one eye and causing him to lose several of his fingers.

He keeps his platonic engagement ring on his horn, both as a decoration, and as a promise to the world that happiness can still be found even in the darkest times.

c!Ranboo keeps his ring on his finger, however.

c!Ranboo's design is probably my most iconic and well-known, by a mile. I originally actually envisioned him to look more like the Cherubs from Homestuck, but as time passed his design changed to be more fae-like, and 'Mooseboo' was born.

When it comes to his general demeanor, c!Ranboo would always hunch himself over and keep his tail close to himself in order to try to appear smaller and less menacing. Despite being incredibly tall and quite physically powerful, he mastered the art of looking like a lost puppy.

The gold and gems from his MC skin's crown I incorporated into the 'Mooseboo' design via his antlers, which are gilded and decorated with gems and Ender eye stones. Some more headcanons I have about the antlers: during Christmas time, Michael would climb up onto Ranboo's shoulders and decorate his antlers with lights and tinsel! Just like a regular moose, he does shed his antlers annually. He would normally choose just dispose of them, but Tubbo likes to keep them on display in the mansion (they are covered in gold, after all!).

I further deviated from his canon design by giving him teal blood (as that's what color Ender eyes are) as opposed to red and green.

Another design difference is his facial markings. Instead of interpreting the grey spots on his MC skin as tear scars, I interpreted them as his own natural facial markings!

One other random headcanon I have is that while c!Ranboo is a capable warrior, he does not like to kill if he doesn't have to. As such, I always loved the idea of him using a bo staff to incapacitate or knock out enemies, rather than a sword or axe to fatally stab/cut them.

As for Ghostboo, I really leaned into the idea that the character really was just c!Ranboo's walking corpse, so I designed him to look emaciated and zombie-like (at this point I had started to draw c!Ranboo with his di-colored blood as opposed to my classic teal).

When going into the Enderwalk mode, Ranboo would take on a more menacing appearance. His antlers and limbs would seem to grow, his complexion would darken, and his eyes and mouth would glow purple.

If you haven't seen them yet, I'd recommend checking out my two beeduo-centric animatics, both exploring some plot-variant ideas!

But yeah! That's a bunch of stuff that just came to mind. If you have any further questions about my designs (either for these two characters or any others), just ask!

#dsmp #myart #old beeduo jumpscare

[bythenineshards]

i think the reason which makes me angry about acotar & its fandom as a whole is the double standard that exists in the fanbase. rhysand sexually assaulted feyre? 'it's a dark romance so you should go read your vanilla stories & also he did it for her own good'. but when someone says 'well, if it's a dark romance, surely we can have a tamlin redemption arc 'cause he & rhys are the same 'cause he was also protecting feyre 'for her own good'', they'll come at you with pitchforks about how feyre needs someone who is 'feminist' to have a 'healthy relationship' with. like WHICH ONE IS IT??

i am in the hannibal, killing eve & interview with the vampire fandoms. i do like me some mutually toxic relationships that makes you look through characters psyches & pick apart motives & themes.

but acotar goes for this weird stance in its own morality that it doesn't make an ounce of sense. it would've made sense if feyre had left tamlin even if they had a healthy relationship to go join rhysand & then the story could've had a darker turn there. that could've been the basis of a dark romance. or feyre & tamlin's relationship being built on the same lines of toxicity & feyre betraying/hurting tamlin to join rhysand because she wants more power. & tamlin be an equal adversary for them (not antagonist). then the story be continued from there. give me moral ambiguity so that i don't know who to root for. these kinds of things happen in adult high fantasies all the time.

but sjm chooses to compare two equally bad (or 'morally gray', as the stans love to call it) characters and be like 'see, this one is better!!' but if someone points out that they're equally bad you have to watch them do all kinds of unnecessary mental gymnastics & say 'b-but it is a dark romance with dark themes & it's adult!! and rhysand is MORALLY GREY!!! if you can't handle it don't read it!' or the argument of 'it's fiction & they're fae!! you can't apply real world morals to it!!' like sure but where is the CONSISTENCY???

Hey Anon! I could've sworn I answered this. But apparently I didn't.

I can't stand the justifying of Rhys' deeds. Dark Romance books don't feel the need to do that. The guy doesn't need the justifications and hero framing. The books are thrown around as feminist or empowering. The point is that the relationship is a toxic dynamic. Maas has said in interviews that she writes healthy romances. She views this as a healthy relationship.

You know what's funny? The road to hell is paved with what? Good. Intentions. The best villains are people who meant well but had evil methods to achieve that goal. Rhys did x______ because it was for....? Doesn't matter, still did it. Thanos (in the movies) killed half the universe because it would create more resources for those left. Good intention. Horrible idea considering he had the power to create more resources.

You're right that there were so many other angles this could've gone to make it better. Personally I believe the best idea would've been to just have them grow apart. Cuz that happens and it wouldn't have taken Tamlin being abusive to do. Feyre could've fallen for Rhys knowing what he did was wrong. I'm sorry but there was no excuse or justification for working for Amarantha. Rhys should've been punished. However that would mean more work than comparing a retconned Tamlin to Rhys and made Feyre actually flawed.

Ugh... this series... so glad I'm not buying anymore of her books. You know, it's so weird how easily impressed I am with books that do the bare minimum effort to be decent after reading these.

#anti sjm #anti acotar #anti rhysand #anti feyre #anti feysand #anti sjmaas #sjm critical #answered asks #ask box #send me asks #ask me anything #ask holly #my asks #thanks for the ask! #anon ask #ask

[peonierose]

Unexpected

Chapter 3

Nightbound AU vs. Hänsel & Gretel

Book: Nightbound

Type: Series / Chapter 3

Characters involved: Hänsel van Andresen (M!OC), Gretel van Andresen (F!OC), Grey (M!OC)

Words: 3,000+

Rating: Mature, NSFW

Summary: Hänsel and Gretel are now in New Orleans. Looking for clues. They’ll encounter someone new. Friend or Foe?

A/N: A huge thank you to @annieruok94 for brainstorming and reading through 💚 @jerzwriter Thank you so much with the smut scene (I’m super nervous though 🙈) 💗

2nd A/N: Thank you to anyone who reads my stories and gives my characters a chance. It truly means the 🌎 to me. Also please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future stories 💚

Playlist for Chapter 3

In case you missed the first two chapters, you can catch up on them here Chapter 1 & Chapter 2

Grey

I wasn’t sure if the purple sleep powder would work on her. I catch her before she can fall to the ground and carry her in my arms. I teleport us to Vi’s shop. Not many Fae can teleport.

Though it seems as if I’m the exception to the rule.

Viandra or Vi for short is my best friend along with Vine. Vi owns her own spice and herb shop called “Blue Moon“.

She found this old apothecary that was ready for demolition, but she saved it and opened up her herb and spice shop instead.

Opening it for all supernaturals who needed help with illnesses and couldn’t go to a normal doctor.

Vi is amazing. She can make all kinds of potions and antidotes. She’s also using the shop as a cover to remain hidden from certain Fae.

She can also make love potions, but Vi always says those aren’t for the faint of heart. Ironic really since the heart region is the aim of the potion.

We met a long time ago at one of the grand balls of the season.

It’s a gathering of Fae royalty from all the Courts. Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. Since all three of us hail from different Fae courts, no one could’ve foreseen we’d become such close friends. Yet here we are. Proving everyone wrong.

When I was banished from the winter court, Vi and Vine left with me.

Making all three of us outcasts. I couldn’t be more grateful for having such wonderful friends by my side.

I’m breathing hard as I’m entering Vi’s shop. Using my magic to create a glamour to mask my appearance and then teleporting us into Vi‘s shop? It’s straining to say the least. I can feel myself becoming tired from using so much magic.

Vi stops what she’s doing and stares daggers at me. Her hair glowed like a bright orange sunset. The top half was a bright burning red, her light orange tips falling to the half of her back in cascading waves. Her dark eyes outlined with coal, are glowing like embers in the ashes.

“Who is that? And why have you brought her here?“ She asks, pointing with her chin towards Gretel. Her full lips turned down in a suspicious frown.

“Help me and I’ll explain,“ I say.

Vi walks towards me and together we place Gretel on the plush red chair and tie her hands behind her back.

Gretel moans softly but stays out. I let out a breath of pure relief. The magic must’ve worked better than I thought it would. It was made by Vi after all. She might be a giant pain in the ass, but she knows her way around potions and mixtures.

Vi takes a closer look at Gretel. When she recognizes Gretel she steps back and whirls around to pin me down with a gaze.

“Are you out of your damn mind? Bringing her here? Do you know who that is? She’s going to expose all of us,“ her dark eyes blazing like an inner fire. Considering that’s her power it’s not that far off.

“Relax. She doesn’t know anything,“ I say not worried in the slightest.

Vi laughs but it’s hollow.

“Yet. How long will it take her to realize who we are? Who you are? She’s a freaking Grimm. Making her one of them. She’s not going to just lie low and be told what to do. Neither is her brother. You should know better than that Grey,“ she shakes her head at me.

The Brothers Grimm aren’t just two guys who went around collecting stories to write down. Oh no. They’re far worse than that. They’re supernatural hunters. Collecting stories? That was their way of knowing more about supernaturals. With time they’ve become more and more dangerous. They have a database for almost all supernaturals. Their strengths and weaknesses were collected and passed on to the next generations of Grimm.

I shudder just thinking about it.

The stories of them are all true.

Though there is one Grimm who isn’t cruel and that Grimm's daughter is currently sitting on the chair we tied her to. Hänsel and Gretel are direct descendants of the original brothers Grimm. Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm.

And from the looks of it, neither Hänsel nor Gretel has any idea about their heritage.

I turn my gaze towards Vi again and take a step closer to Vi until we’re face to face and our noses are almost touching.

“Then you should know that I’m not some stupid faeling that doesn’t know how to survive. We both survived far worse in the Fae courts. Or do I need to remind you of that?“ My voice is cold as ice.

She’s not batting an eye. But after a few seconds, she shakes her head in response.

I incline my head.

“Good. Let’s see what she knows. Afterward we’ll make her forget she ever saw us,“ I say.

Vi looks concerned. Which is rare so I’m on high alert.

“She doesn’t strike me as the type of person who’s going to forget for very long,“ she says.

When I give her another look she holds up her hands. Her dark magenta-painted nails caught in the soft, dim light, and sparks emanate from her fingertips.

“Don’t bite my head off. I’m just saying. She‘s a descendant of the Brothers Grimm. They aren’t easily fooled. You know that Grey. Better than anyone,“ her voice got soft.

I close my eyes. Not wanting to think of the people responsible for the death of my whole family. Almost my whole family I amend. One member of my family is still alive, though I try not to dwell too much on that.

When I re-open my eyes I’m in control of my raging emotions again.

Vi grabbed my shoulder to lend me some strength. I cover my hand with hers.

Letting my guard down. Showing feelings and emotions of the softer side is something that’s very rare with Vi. Vi is like the sister I never had. So I cherish these moments even more.

When I look at Gretel all I see is my family screaming for help.

Her family eradicated my own. She’s no different I try to remind myself when I look at her soft face, her rosy cheeks, and her long blonde braid reaching almost the middle of her back.

I’m trying to decide on how to proceed when Vine enters the shop.

His dark blue hair is cascading down his back. Put in some complicated braid.

“Hello, party people…Oh my god. Grey, who did you bring that for?“ He says upon entering.

He stops in his tracks and sees Gretel tied back behind a chair. Vine takes a closer look and steps back when he recognizes her.

“Really? Gretel? I didn’t think you’d be that stupid,“ he leans against the counter.

I turn towards him and put my hands on my hips. What is it with these two tonight?

“Mind your place,“ I say coldly.

He shakes his head at me.

“Dude you know I’m right,“ he says and hops onto the counter.

As Gretel’s moans are getting louder, everyone stops doing what they’re doing. Looks as if the sleeping powder is wearing off quicker than we thought.

She’s fully awake now and on high alert. Her eyes darted left and right.

She seems to want to reach for her right boot where her dagger was, realizing her hands are tied behind her back. She grits her teeth. Her hazel eyes take on a more green hue. Glowing like the eyes of a cat.

“Are you looking for this?“ I ask her.

Too bad I found it earlier when I searched for her. I hold it up into the light. Admiring the craftsmanship.

The small blade has a dark emerald hilt, with the initials KVA inscribed into it. Making my whole body go taut. Though I school my features I wouldn’t want Gretel to know that those initials are well known to me.

The blade itself is made out of a dark, smooth black material. One that seems to absorb any light nearby.

One I’ve never encountered before and that says a lot. I’ve been alive and wandering this earth for over a thousand years now. You could say I’ve been around for a while.

She keeps staring at me as I’m carrying the blade.

“That doesn’t belong to you,“ she clarifies as if it wasn’t evident enough.

I ignore her and ask her in turn.

“Where did you get this?“ I look at her and she sighs in return.

She gulps down and sighs.

“It was my mothers,“ she says while trying to get the rope off of her hands. All it seems to be doing is digging deeper into her flesh.

I put it on the counter. It’s not as if she can fight her way out of here but I don’t want to take any chances.

She takes a look around and when she notices we’re not alone she sits up straighter in her chair.

I know I won’t get anything out of her if Vi and Vine are here too.

Without looking back I say quietly.

“Leave us,“ my voice low.

With their sensitive hearing, they hear well enough, without me having to raise my voice.

Vi and Vine start to protest.

“Now!“ I say louder this time. My tone booking no argument.

Vi knows not to test me and so she walks into the other part of the shop and drags Vine with her.

Before they’re completely out of sight Gretel stares at Vine and mutters “Nice rose and vine tattoos,“ she admires it for a couple of seconds longer as if she’s staring at an oil painting. Vine’s eyes widen a fraction.

I whip my head towards her. How does she see through our carefully constructed glamour? Even Grimms usually don’t notice our tattoos.

Because they‘re only visible to Fae eyes. I take a closer look at her and breathe out slowly.

Maybe Vi was right. It’s going to be hard to make her forget she ever saw us.

Gretel

The rope is burning into my flesh.

I look up and see a beautiful guy. With long dark hair and forest-green eyes. I instantly turn my guard up. Making my voice sound emotionless.

A guy like him? He’s dangerous for various reasons. Especially for my heart. He could make me want and feel things I haven’t in a while.

I try to distract myself by taking a look around to avoid having to look at him. I guess I’m meeting The Shadow earlier than I thought I would. I mean who else could it be?

The place looks bigger on the inside than you’d think, not that I even know where we are. Keeping my breath even, as I’m trying not to break out into a full-on panic.

I clear my throat and see all sorts of herbs and plants adorning the place. Making you feel as if you’re inside a greenhouse. Only smaller.

Strange liquids and items are sitting in jars on the shelves. Making me curious as to what those are, but at the same time not want to know.

“Who are you? And what do you want?“ I ask, not looking at The Shadow.

“So demanding,“ he says, his voice smooth as silk.

I snicker in disgust and look back at him.

”If this is you trying to turn on the charm? Try again.“ I say as if we’re having a nice little chat. Not me being tied to a chair like a hostage.

He smirks even more at the fact that I’m uncomfortable and trying to hide it.

“As to your question. I brought you here for a reason Gretel,“ he replies.

A shiver runs down my spine at the tone of his voice. I shake it off. My blonde ponytail swung back and forth.

“How do you know my name?“ I ask.

He smiles down at me.

“I know a lot of things about you and your brother,“ he says ominously.

“Yeah, that’s not creepy at all. I know that you’re Fae. Your glamour won’t work on me. Find a better victim. Cause I ain’t playing one,“ I say.

He seems a bit taken aback that I discovered so soon what he is and that he’s trying to use Fae glamour on me to coax information out of me.

I hate people who play games with me. Either say what you’ve got to say or don’t say anything at all. That’s what my mom taught me.

“Again who are you?“ I ask him again.

He ponders over that for a second before he bows elegantly and smiles through his eyelashes.

“You can call me Grey,“ he says winking at me.

I roll my eyes at his attitude.

“Alright. We’ll pretend that’s your real name,“ I reply.

Grey nods his head at me.

“Fair enough,“ he says.

I let out a frustrated growl.

“I want you to stop looking into the case you’re investigating. You don’t need to concern yourself with this. It will be taken care of. You have my word,“ he promises.

These are his next words.

I laugh bitterly at his promise. I learned early on not to trust a pretty face. Two words, the witch. That’s all I’m going to say.

“I know next to nothing about this case. That’s why I was seeking you out,“ I say.

“We will handle it,“ he tries to reassure me.

“I don’t trust you or your word. Fae never do anything out of the goodness of their hearts. You want something. As for stopping to look for these people? You’ve got another thing coming hot stuff,“ I say with more confidence than I feel right now. Totally trying to bluff my way out of here.

He laughs and it sounds like the proverbial forbidden fruit. Something you know you shouldn’t want. But are drawn to.

My heart beats faster and he turns his face to me as if he could sense it. With his heightened hearing he probably can.

Grey is crouched down in his leather pants and gives me a look. As if trying to decipher what to make of me.

I can’t show what I feel. Even though I’m scared shitless I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

He grins.

“So you think I’m good-looking?“ he asks.

“I didn’t say that. So wipe that smirk off your face,“ I say.

He smiles and for a second his face seems blurry again. Showing me white silvery hair instead of inky black and crystal clear blue eyes instead of moss green.

I smile to myself and he gets a confused look on his face.

There’s a secret as to how Hänsel and I can unmask all these supernaturals and see behind the mask so to speak. We’ve been able to ever since we were born.

So this is going to be fun.

I lean back in my chair as much as my tied hands let me.

“Interesting that you’re masking your appearance. Are we a little vain?“ I ask mockingly.

His smile disappears and a careful look enters his eyes.

He steps closer and grips my chin to look into my eyes. He moves his fingers to reveal any sort of magic. But he won’t find any. When he realizes that I’m not under a spell and that there’s no magic involved he steps back.

Grey studies me more carefully, the scent of lush green grass wafting toward me.

“You just became more fascinating,“ he mutters almost as if to himself.

“Glad I could be of service. Although you look like a stone sculpture. I’d rather have fun with my vibrator than with you. So if there’s nothing else can you untie me?“ I ask him

Grey’s eyes glitter in delight.

“Your vibrator must be bad if you’re this frustrated,“ he says in a sultry tone.

I laugh in surprise.

He chuckles in turn.

“You know it’s funny. How mortals think they know everything about pleasure and how to achieve it,“ he says.

I raise my eyebrows.

“And you’re the expert?“ I ask, teasing him.

He shrugs.

“I’ve never heard any complaints.“

“People were probably too scared to tell you if they weren’t satisfied,“ I say.

He smiles though his green eyes have gone cold. Oops. Look like I hit a sore spot.

I gulp.

Suddenly the scenery changes and I’m in a different room. Lying in a big canopy bed. Dark silver-grey sheets surrounded me. Grey is lying next to me.

His long silver blond hair falls to the side, surrounding him like a curtain and he has that smirk on his face. He traces a finger across my bare skin before I feel a sticky drip on my skin.

I look in his direction and my eyes opened wide when I saw him dip his hands into a bowl filled with honey. Next, the stickiness is on me as he spreads his honeyed hands onto my stomach and leans down to lick it away. His warm tongue feels like fire as it licks and sucks at my sin. Making me moan.

I push my hand into his hair and pull him towards me to kiss him. He tastes like lilac honey. Sweet and decadent. Making me want more. We break apart only for the image to fade away…

I get back to the here and now. My heart is racing in my chest and my chest is heaving like I just ran 10 miles. I’m left unsatisfied and wanting more.

He walks up behind me and leans down to whisper into my ear.

“What’s got your heart beating so fast, little rosebud?“ He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I swallow and try to wipe away those images. As horny as they made me I can’t give in.

“You know there’s a saying in Fae. If you find someone attractive you can project your wants and needs into the person's head,“ he says, his voice sending shock waves down my spine.

“Then stop doing it,“ I demand.

He laughs before he leans even closer to me as if to place a kiss on my neck and I lean closer to him seeking his touch, but then he lifts his head and denies me that contact.

Grey chuckles darkly making gooseflesh cover my whole body. And anger flashes through my body because he made me want more and then he took a step back.

“I wasn’t projecting anything. You were the one who put those images into both of our heads. I find myself wanting to know how it’ll end. How about you?“ He asks curiously.

I gulp and try to escape those pictures. I want to know too, but I feel as if he’s playing a dangerous game with me.

“Stop playing mind games with me. Please. Make it stop,“ I say trying to make him stop projecting.

It takes me back to the gingerbread house when the witch held us, hostage. Mind games were her favorite pastime.

She liked poking into our heads and putting images there.

I hang my head and try to escape anywhere. Just not to be used like that again. He must’ve realized that something is off. He steps closer and this time I can breathe again. Like I woke up from a dream.

A single tear slipped out and our eyes connected. I don’t make any effort to wipe it away. Letting him see my vulnerability and pain for a second.

Grey seems to debate what to do. He breathes out and flicks his fingers. At that, the rope that was binding my hands together slips off landing like a small heap on the wooden floor.

I rub my wrists from the burn of the rope.

My breath goes faster, indicating a panic attack is near. I try to regulate my breathing. When I trust my voice again I say.

“I don’t like mind games. If you want to know something ask me. Just don’t play mind games with me. Please.“

He takes another chair that I haven’t noticed was there before. It almost seemed as if it materialized out of thin air. Maybe he conjured it with magic.

Grey’s eyes take on a softer tone.

“I wasn’t playing any games. If I had to take a guess then I’d say the witch liked to do that.“

I whip my head in his direction and stay still as an ice sculpture. Not moving an inch.

“How do you know so much about us?“ I ask him. Genuinely curious, about how he seems to know almost everything about me and my brother.

He stretches his long legs in front of him. My gaze falls to his leather-clad legs. Leather looks damn good on him.

“I’ve been following you and your brother’s stories for years. It’s always fascinated me how two regular humans can survive all this, without any special powers.“

I laugh at that.

“We’re special snowflakes, didn't you know? It’s not creepy at all how you’ve been following us. Regarding the case. Why don’t we work together? We could solve it faster if we do,“ I say to him.

If we work together, I can keep an eye on him. But I don’t tell him that.

It’s his turn to roll his eyes at me.

“I don’t trust you,“ he says with finality.

I furrow my eyebrows together.

“Are you scared you’d work well within a team?“ I ask him.

Grey laughs but it sounds hollow.

”I work alone.“ He says his tone is colder than an ice wind blasting through the tundra.

I look at him with some understanding. Something in me just wants to help him heal. I don’t know what has hardened his heart so much, but I can’t deny the need to help him.

My brother often said I have a soft heart and that soft heart of mine will get me into trouble one day.

But I can never deny someone who needs my help.

“I know how hard it must be to let go of the past and to let someone new in. But I really think we’d work well together,“ I try to convince him.

Grey eyes me with a steady gaze. Blue gaze meeting hazel eyes.

“We’ll see,“ he says.

I look around for a piece of paper in my jeans project and find a gum wrapper. I also slip my dagger into my right boot where it belongs.

I see a pen on the counter. Quickly I write down my number and put it in his hand.

As soon as our hands touch I feel like an electrical zing jolted through my whole body. As if I put my finger into the power outlet.

We both take our hands back. I can see that it didn’t leave him unbothered.

I clear my throat and rub my hand against my leather coat. To feel the soft leather on my skin. I turn to Grey again.

“In case you’ve made up your mind and want to work together, here's my number. But be quick, because these people are running out of time,“ I say.

“I will need some time to think about it,“ he says and looks down at the purple digits scrawled on the wrapper.

I nod and leave the shop. Finding myself in a small street outside of the French Quarter.

I smile as I leave a speechless, open-mouthed Grey behind.

Feeling kind of satisfied that I could stun The Shadow.

This was not really what I was expecting. But life rarely is.

Always expect the unexpected.

Bonus:

#Unexpected #Nightbound AU #Hänsel van Andresen (M!OC) #Gretel van Andresen (F!OC) #Grey (M!OC) #Viandra (F!OC) #Vine (M!OC) #cfwc

[coyoteprince]

more of an open question but what are some fun worldbuilding things you can think of off the top of your head? I want to hear more owo

Sorry for this novel

Waite has a grey (the kind that looks white) mare named Seraphim, who will make a minor appearance in comic. She's based on a Suffolk punch and Narragansett pacer.

All horses within Widderwood story have a dorsal stripe, no matter if theyre earthly or fae or whatever breed.

Likewise, almost every fae within Widderwood have ear tufts

Degare got his hat in a trade for sex from a Darlington priest, though it is a farmer's planter hat. His shoe style is also called a winklepicker.

Every person's soul is represented by a flame and each person has their own lantern (or lamp, or candle holder...) in Sandman's garden. From a design point, his garden has two principals: the light must always be a flame (no electric light), and time doesn't matter so modern lanterns are okay to depict, but only in this space.

Widderwood is technically steampunk, but I don't think it's going to be super obvious in comic unless you look super closely? Time rules are also funky: I've delayed invention of something yet moved up other things. It technically takes place during the 1880's, but plenty Edwardian and even modern day things pop up. No cars, but gramophones will soon be released. Coal is starting to die off in use and steam and some electricity are quickly becoming king. Prosthetics & aides are heavily decorated and become a hot tool to customize and be proud of. Women wear pants (though high society finds this disturbing) and can own land. Queerness & gay marriage isn't outlawed but its pretty weird to traditionals and queer identity is refered to as "the third sex" as is historical for that period. Those sorts of things

Primary community of Darlington is Caucasian, Black, and Native American, but all manner of people pass through thanks to the nearby port city

What is equivalent to the americas in Widderwood is made up of "territories", which I've been leaving vague because I cannot manage to care about building political empires, I just want two dogs to kiss. Either way, Darlington is ruled by English-equivalent, but original England-equivalent got overthrowed and wiped off the map. Southern state-equivalent, Eastern Canada-equivalent and some of the plains are under similar but different self-governing rule. Much of the western territories are aboriginal-ruled and the entire continent is much smaller than our world. These territories are all mostly on good terms with each other because this is just background flavoring. I'm trying to figure out a naming system for these territories or if it even matters since this story is pretty contained.

My partner bought me a vintage prosthetic leg from a firehazard of a thrift store just so I can use it as reference for Simon's false leg. It literally floats about the house in different spots and we just call it "Simon's leg"

Speaking of Simon, partner also bought me a Victorian book all about prosthetics which surprisingly is very empathetic and includes sentiments from actual disabled people of the time. I used this book to help me figure out what exact style of prosthetic Simon has, as well as his injury. His amputation took place mid calf and despite some mobility issues and how he looks, he's decently strong and has good endurance.

Waite is an Aries with pisces moon & taurus rising, Degare Gemini with scorpio & leo, Simon is Capricorn but idk his moon and rising. I don't give much thought to astrology but I think using it to build character personalities is very fun.

Widderwood mermaids are a combination of selkies and mermaids. They have front & back flippers and inhabit the same role as selkies in that there's many stories of marrying humans and their spouse stealing their skins.

Nuckelaaves are essentially slenderman to fae and no one knows what exactly they are

Darlington is known for their abundance of daisy wheels as a symbol of protection, which comes directly from my colonial cemetery special interest. They often top the margins of colonial tablet graves and have been historically used as a protective symbol against magic worldwide. In my personal practice, I've reclaimed them and they act as my main "religious" symbol, much in the way a cross or pentacle works, and despite the fact they were once used against witches

Darlington & Sullivan Forest geography is set in fantasy Massachusettes with influence from the entire region of New England and forests in Northern Georgia. Locations & buildings in the story will be based on a variety of locations I've visited and documented in person including: Salem Witch House, Bulloch Hall, Root House of Marietta, Atlanta History Museum Gardens & internal exhibits, and Allen County Historical Society & House Museum (the most important museum in my life and the reason why I am the way that I am today). I'm still picking the cemeteries I want to base on, but will likely be a mix of a cemetery I accidentally ran into outside of Salem and a variety of local Georgia + Ohio cemeteries from my childhood. I am hoping to visit Colonial Williamsburg as well as Historic Westville as further reference for town scenes. Yes I am really that intense that I've traveled states wide just to gather research for my gay dog boy webcomic

I have much more I could give, but I need to be careful with what I share to avoid spoiling all my work.

#widderwood

[ashyronfire]

Red Sky at Morning || Chapter 29: Tell Me No More Stories

Title: Chapter 29 - Tell Me No More Stories Rating: M Characters: Grimm, The Grimm Troupe (including OCs), The Radiance

Warnings: Introspect-Heavy, Found Family, Pre-Canon, Time Travel Fix-It Adjacent, Grey-and-Grey Morality, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Dismemberment, Graphic Depictions of Violence, The Author Likes Gore

Summary:

“Atlas says you’ve improved.” She looked at Pyre, then turned back to say, “Greatly. He keeps talking about wanting to fight you in the Nightmare. He says he feels like you are crippled here, even with your magic.”

Author’s Notes: In the interest of making this available to more people after AO3 crashed, I'm gonna put the chapter itself under a cut as well. Right now AO3 is up and probably fine -- but just in case. :>

CURRENT CHAPTER || READ FROM THE BEGINNING

The Second Cycle - Mulake

Grimm shared in the child’s memories.

There was more to it than just seeing. While he did look through its eyes, he could not describe it as simply viewing. Whenever Pyre brought the child back to the camp, its experiences came flooding back to him like a tidal wave. Every little scratch, every touch, the whispered words, the affection. The spell that bound the child to the charm also bound the charm to Pyre.

Their lives were woven together, kindling to flame and the ash that remained in their wake. He was terribly attached to the hybrid already. Sparring with him was going to be… an experience.

And they had an audience.

Pyre did not seem to mind. He looked very calm as he stepped into the makeshift arena. It was a particularly large grassy field that the Troupe had helped clear out the night before at Grimm’s suggestion, so that the grass was shorn short for ease of viewing and any rocks lingering around were removed to avoid unintentional injury. Pyre had shed his usual cloak in favor of bracers that protected his arms and legs, and a chestplate in crimson that matched Grimm’s own natural coloration. He’d brought with him an elegant nail inlaid with a webbed pattern that brought to mind a damselfly’s wings; the engravings ran from the pommel all the way to the tip, giving the optional illusion of angles to the shape. It was a curved longtail; that, it seemed, was Pyre’s weapon of choice. Grimm did not fight with one at all. He was not that kind of fighter. He was a magician. But Atlas was trying to teach him to fight without the use of his flames.

Against Atlas, that was going terribly. Pyre, he hoped, would prove to be another story.

“Are you sure you do not want to arm yourself?” Nightshade asked him. She had a new set of daggers in sheaths at her side; she held one out for him to look at. “Atlas is adept at forging; he’s been –”

“He is?” Grimm asked, puzzled.

“Yeah,” the moth answered. “He’s been making weapons for all of us. He made Marra the most wicked scythe I’ve ever seen. Alula has a long nail, Atlas has his axe – that thing’s heavier than I am, by the way – and he even gave Reed some daggers like mine. He’s been teaching Mist to use a staff, too. Mist doesn’t really like blades.”

Making weapons for everyone but him, it seemed. He’d known Atlas used an axe, although he’d never bothered with weapons when fighting Grimm. He rarely needed to. He had the physical advantage.

He handed the dagger back. He had a staff, made elegantly by Marra, but he considered it to be more of a show piece than something for actual use. He’d be devastated if it was damaged in combat. All he actually used when sparring was his claws. Maybe he should learn to do more, but it was a rather redundant thought right before a sparring match.

“He never told me he was a smith,” Grimm observed; he glanced into the group assembling around them. Every Troupe member was present, but what fascinated him the most was that Mist was perched near Fae and ignoring everyone else entirely. And he had something over his head: a piece of filmy fabric held in place by woven bands around his mask. “When did our butterfly become so fond of the flashier twin?”

“Fae’s been teaching him about butterfly culture, actually,” the moth hummed. “Pyre gave him that veil. Apparently, there is a lot about butterflies we did not know.”

Did not remember, more like.

He knew, instantly, that veils had significance. The memory came flooding back, unbidden: wearing veils was a social symbol among their kind. Different colors denoted different things. Black was, traditionally, mourning, but adorning it with gems meant that the wearer was of considerable status. The twins did not wear veils, despite being half-butterfly, but clearly, they knew the importance of them.

He did not often think about such things. Who they were before the Troupe was of no great consequence to Grimm. They were his people and he was fond of them as they were. It should have occurred to him, though, that Mist would want to know more about where he came from. Especially since they were both the very last butterflies left in the world of that particular tribe.

Grimm would speak with him after the fight. Not just because he wanted to know what Fae was teaching him, but he also wanted Mist to know what memories he had from Luster. That had felt like a forbidden topic for so long, considering how young the butterfly was when he’d joined them, but…

Not anymore.

Mist was not young in truth now, and he would never be old, either.

“I like his veil,” Nightshade continued. “He’s very fond of it. It belonged to their mother, the twins. Pyre seemed to like that it was going to someone who would take good care of it. That it would be worn for eternity.”

That fit. Pyre was a sentimental creature.

“Speaking of him,” the moth continued. “He brought back the little one. It’s mean of you to send the baby away. Do you not realize how cute little-you is?”

He knew. He even agreed, strange though it might have been for him to admit.

“It is better,” Grimm told her.

“How is it better? You are a part of this family, you jerk. You need to remember that.”

It was better because he wanted to be more than he was. He wanted to be a thing apart. He wanted to learn from others, to take in their experiences, to –

To what?

To fix the holes in his heart, ever glowing like his eyes? To fix who he was, in hopes that he would become someone more worthy of the love that people offered him? Perhaps. Or maybe he was projecting. Maybe he just wanted to look into the mirror and like the person looking back at him.

(Time. Time would give him that.)

“Root for me,” Grimm asked of Nightshade; he twitched his tail and smiled behind his mask. “Your husband beats me up often enough. I need something to assure me that I am not totally hopeless.”

“Atlas says you’ve improved.” She looked at Pyre, then turned back to say, “Greatly. He keeps talking about wanting to fight you in the Nightmare. He says he feels like you are crippled here, even with your magic.”

That was eerily close to how Cross had once described him and, inadvertently, it dug deep into an old wound. There was a time when those words would have paralyzed him. He did not think Cross would ever be a wound that fully healed. He saw the snail in everything. But Grimm was surprised to find that while it did feel a little like being slapped, the sharp ache to his heart faded. Atlas was not Cross, and Atlas meant it as a compliment, in his own way.

(And Atlas hadn’t given up on him, either. Stubborn moth.)

“If I manage to win, I will grant your husband’s wish,” he told her. “I will let him find out what it is like to fight the real me.”

“Can I watch?”

His tail playfully undulated to the side. “Perhaps.” But likely not. He did not like disrupting dreams, but he would make an exception to challenge Atlas in the Nightmare. He wanted to let him see exactly how right he was… because he was correct: in the real world, he was crippled, bound by mortal laws, tied to a physical form. He was not physical in his own world. He wasn’t anywhere close to crippled there.

He'd enjoy that fight immensely. But only if he managed to win. Only if he managed to prove that he could. Otherwise, what was the point? To lose to Atlas, as he had so many times before? No, thank you.

Grimm turned and crossed the field. The clearing was good enough for a normal spar. Pyre met him in the middle of it, and the child left the hybrid’s shoulder to fly over to him. He held one hand up and stroked its wings before sending it to settle on Nightshade’s lap (Complain less, moth).

“Are you sure that you are up to this?” Pyre asked him. “Iris told me you’ve been taking her venom. If you are not well…”

How sweet.

“I assure you that I am fine. Do you intend to use magic?” Grimm hummed, turning his head to the side. At Pyre’s nod, he said, “Then I will, too.”

“I would hope so.”

“Are you ready, my friend?” Grimm asked, with Pyre nodding again, and then he offered a flourishing bow, one wing spread at his side. “Then dance with me,” he purred. The lilt in his voice was impossible to miss. Musical.

He did so like to put on a show.

Pyre did not bow back, though he did hesitate (as though considering doing so – perhaps he’d never seen anyone bow in combat, considering that he had so little experience in it in a less life-or-death situation?). He launched forward with a slash, and Grimm teleported away with a soft ‘pop’ – which was perhaps not the most charitable response, but he was not about to be hit while he was being polite.

Rude, Pyre. Very rude.

He reappeared on the other side of the hybrid, who had whirled to meet him. Pyre raised his nail to parry Grimm’s clawed slash and then struck downward. Grimm danced out of the way of it and swiped again, and –

There was a tempo to it, wasn’t there? He’d called it a dance, and fighting was a dance. One-two step.

(Did practicing with Atlas have a similar flow? You slice, I slash. You back up, I step forward. I retreat and you close distance. Was it always like that?)

The sound of metal hitting his claws was loud. They reverberated and felt numb to him. He needed to get better protectors for them if he was going to use them in physical combat, he realized.

Slice. Parry. Scratch.

Rhythm. There was a melody to each movement and he hummed quietly to himself to match it. Pyre no doubt heard him but did not question what he was doing – which was kind of him, as Grimm did not know.

What he did know was that Pyre failed to dodge one of his attacks, and his claws ripped through his shoulder nastily.

Lost the tempo. Fell out of step. The next two hits landed soundly: one-two scratch.

(Give him a minute to get up.

Would a real opponent? No. But it wasn’t a real fight.

He’d drawn hemolymph first.

But he wanted to win. He wanted to win.

He wanted to win fairly. Give him a minute.)

Grimm scurried backwards, giving Pyre more space. The hybrid leapt back to his feet and then –

Threw his nail across the field. That was unexpected. Grimm dodged out of the way of it, only to be sliced on its return as magic propelled it back to its owner. He felt the wound gape in his side over tender scar tissue.

One-two slice.

He dodged. He parried. He moved like he owned the ground, and Grimm was surprised to find that he felt like he did. There was something incredibly satisfying about keeping the tempo, keeping to the melody, like – like –

Left. Right.

One-two scratch.

(You slice, I back up. I fill the distance with my own claws.)

He landed more blows than he took, but Pyre’s nail managed to nick his wings in several places, and at least once on his arm. It was good practice, even as his fingers started to numb from using the length of his claws to block attacks.

(They were going to be so, so sore.)

Every time one of them fell out of the tempo, they took a hit, he noticed. There was synergy between the two of them, and as long as he continued to hum along to it, he… didn’t falter.

Dirt kicked up under scuffling feet as Pyre dashed at him, both hands clenched on the hilt to swing the blade down, and the reaction was instant. Grimm jumped and landed, squarely, on the edge of the blade. He perched, crouched, fingers on one end and feet under him; his claws came up, then, to catch the hybrid’s face; Pyre’s grip on the blade faltered under his weight, the nail hitting the ground, but Grimm himself did not fall, levitating in the air.

Fire danced from his fingertips and flared, blindingly bright, right in Pyre’s eyes.

“Live up to your name. Burn for me.”

As he spoke, Pyre hissed and half-screamed, stumbling back and clutching his face. That was almost enough to make him feel guilty.

Almost.

Grimm skittered backwards, essence spirals trailing in his wake and he stopped far enough away to avoid a counterattack.

He could end it now. He could –

That thought was interrupted by fire igniting underneath him. Unlike his own flames, which were undeniably scarlet, Pyre’s were a rich orange that seared up like a vortex. If he was anyone else, he would have been screaming as his wings shriveled in the heat.

Instead, he called magic into them. His intention was to use them to wrap up Pyre, to disable him, but that was not what happened. No, as if of their own accord, his wings shot into the ground, burrowing serpentine beneath it. Flames rolled down his back, trailed over the extended lengths, and exploded out of the ground directly in front of Pyre, sending him careening into the air.

…when had he learned—

In the middle of a fight was not the best time to think about the fact that his wings seemed to have taken on a mind of their own; he could analyze it later.

He teleported, then, and when the still-blind hybrid hit the ground, Grimm landed on top of him, claws wrapping around his throat, piercing shell a little.

Pyre coughed. His throat spasmed between Grimm’s fingers. “You’re fast,” he panted. “And your fire is nasty. I relent. I need – I need –”

“Alula will have a salve for your eyes,” Grimm answered, releasing his throat. “You seared my wings.”

“You started with the fire.” Pyre coughed and brought his hands up to his eyes, his nail falling to his side. “Going for the eyes. That is a bit dishonorable—”

“It’s fucking brilliant, actually,” came the brusque correction. Grimm looked up to see Atlas approaching, one hand held out to the fallen twin. “Where the fuck is that when you fight me, princess? Where is this jumping on blades and dodging by a hair’s breadth instead of getting punched in the guts like you like it? Where the hell is any of this coming from? I’ve never seen you do most of that.”

One-two slash.

Pyre took Atlas’s hand and sat up. “Brilliant or not, my eyes –”

“You’ll be fine.” Atlas did not sound sympathetic at all. Grimm had thought that he and Pyre were friends. Or… at least friendly? “Alula will fix you right up.”

Pyre looked incredibly unhappy.

(Pyre was a bad patient, Grimm realized. As bad a patient as Grimm himself was. Even if he was fond of Alula – and he clearly was – he was not relishing the idea of being doted on. Grimm felt some sympathy for that. Good luck.)

The child rose from Nightshade’s lap and flew over to daintily land on Pyre’s shoulder. It mrrr’d quietly, bumping its head into his chin, and the annoyance on the twin’s face dissolved away immediately.

“Your father is a bit mean,” Pyre told the child, to Grimm’s quiet laughter. The hybrid leaned down conspiratorially. “I forgive him, though. Even if you and I are more alike right now than usual. Both of us blinded.”

“It can see,” Grimm corrected. “Through my eyes.”

The little buzz of wings told him that Pyre was aware and did not care. Dissociating the two of them, father, and child, seemed to be preferable. Easier for him to process, perhaps.

Pyre patted the child’s back and looked sideways at Grimm. “Next time, you will not get a chance to use such underhanded tricks. Think of something more clever.”

He was very hung up on it being ‘underhanded.’ Grimm was of the opinion that winning was more important than honor, to some degree.

He would ask Atlas if he was wrong about. But it did not sound like he was.

A real enemy would not ask permission before wounding someone, after all.

-

“I want to keep records.”

Grimm lifted his head to look over his shoulder. Mist stood in the entrance to the tent, arms folded, the short veil that Pyre gave him covering his face, and his wings were twitching slightly at his lower back. Usually when they moved, it meant that he was agitated. His voice alone gave that away, though. Mist sounded positively distressed.

Grimm had meant to talk to him, he had – he’d just… put it off, in part because of dread, in part because of being busy.

“Fae has been teaching me,” Mist continued.

“Has he?” Grimm hummed. He’d noticed the two of them together while he was dueling with Pyre; he’d retreated to his tent after the fight to let the hybrid and Alula have some alone time, for his own injuries were superficial by comparison. He did not ask where Fae went after the fight. The older twin was still something of a mystery. He’d taken to Mist immediately, but not to Grimm.

“Yes. About butterflies. About my culture.” Mist sat on the end of the table, pulling his knees up to his chest.  “I didn’t know that our people have an oral tradition of storytelling, or that – that some of them keep complex recordings of every culture they visit. Nomadic. Like we are.” He took a long, shaky breath. “We are bad at being butterflies.”

Perhaps.

“So you want to keep records of the kingdoms we’ve visited, then?” Grimm asked, his tail coming up to undulate behind him. He was fiddling with the enchantments on a hilt not unlike the one he’d made for Iris. “What is stopping you?”

“I want you to, too.”

Ah?

He’d been keeping records for a long time. Ever since his first life. He’d started keeping them after Cross – at an off-hand suggestion from Nightshade. They were wrapped scrolls and bound into shellwood or silks to form books. No one in the Troupe had ever seen them. He did not intend to speak of their existence, either.

“Have you seen my handwriting?” Grimm teased. “It is barely legi—”

“You carry on my brother’s legacy. You owe him this.”

Oh, Mist was pulling no punches, was he?

Grimm turned his head to the side and then exhaled. This was bound to come up eventually, he thought. He’d learned of butterfly culture from Luster’s memories. Though it had been so long (how long? Centuries?) he could recall the events of his first body’s life with absolute clarity. In many ways, it was almost as though he and Luster had become one. The others did not remember him – including Mist. Mist knew of him, but could not recall Luster’s face, Luster’s voice, anything about him. All that he knew was what Grimm deigned to tell him.

He'd thought that kinder, once, but –

Maybe it was not.

Butterflies, as a culture, had oral traditions: they told stories around their campfires every night, for their children and for their adults. Legends. Myths. Some were invented on the spot and some were passed down. They performed music for one another, too, and he could not help but wonder if his fondness for it was at least in part fueled by Luster’s. They’d invented string instruments (was that why he’d picked one?). They existed in small packs and traveled. They never stayed anywhere too long. And they kept intricate, highly detailed chronicles, scrolls and books.

Mist was right. Butterflies were nomadic the same way that the Troupe was. Were they really all that different? But the tribe that he and Luster hailed from was different, because they’d settled in one place. They’d devoted their existence to the worship of the void at the shores of the great swell of darkness. Their people adopted Alula and Nightshade’s family and the others that had come with them. When they died, they threw themselves into the void sea as an offering, to return to the nothingness from whence they came. And when they became adults, they partook of it, ingesting it to forever be dying.

Luster’s past was poisoning him, slowly. The void did not give back what it took.

“ – please, I know, but—”

Speaking. Ah. He’d – he’d missed part of that.

“Come again?” he asked. Mist gave him a funny look. “I was thinking about what you asked.”

“I was reiterating that… bad handwriting or not. You’re the last of my people. Other butterflies exist, but you’re the last of my kind. Our kind, really, you’re one of us, but –”

“No, you had the right of it,” Grimm corrected. “Your people. I am a thing apart and I am not the god that they worshipped.”

He’d been thinking the same, though, that while he’d long abandoned Luster’s body, he had a responsibility to uphold his memory. In many regards, he considered himself a living tribute to a people long deceased: the last will and testament of a culture long gone. With that in mind, did Grimm not think that it was a good idea to preserve all that he knew, in case he himself forgot? In case he, himself, faded?

(He, who could not die?)

But…

He was not sure that ripping open that scar was the best of ideas. Mist did have a right to know. He did have a right to learn about the culture that he’d come from, the people he’d left behind. Alula and Nightshade would want to know what they’d lost, too. The problem was that poking a festering wound risked letting them remember it, and they’d given their memories up willingly to him in order to escape them.

(They are not the same people that they were that day on the banks of the void sea. They have grown. They are not alone anymore. No longer are Alula and Nightshade barely adults who’ve lost everything that they’ve ever loved. No longer do they have nothing left in the world but each other. They have you. They have Marra, Atlas, Mist, Reed. They may even have Iris, Fae, and Pyre. They are not alone. Will it hurt them, truly, if they should get those memories back?

Do you want to risk it?)

“You would have me record your people’s history, as Luster knew it, then?” he asked Mist; he let his tail flick to the side. “You may remember things that you would rather forget. Reading it could bring back the memories you gave to me. I cannot promise they are lost forever. If you stare too far into the dark, you cannot be surprised when eyes meet your own. Is that a risk you would be willing to take, my friend?”

Mist may have looked like a child but treating him like one would be disrespectful. Even if it felt kinder to hide from him the things that Grimm knew would hurt. And they would hurt.

Those were not memories that he would enjoy having.

That culture was dead, but they’d suffered in their dying. They were hurt, tormented, purged like a sickness from the earth by his sister. She’d burnt them away with fire. In their dying moments, they prayed to a god that did not answer and might not have even existed.

The void did not feel. It was a vast reservoir of power, yes, an endless fount. And it felt nothing at all for their problems. What care had it, when in the end all would return to it eventually?

The butterflies of that tribe worked hand-in-hand with the snails who worshipped the void’s magic, who were fixated with understanding its very nature. Cross was one such snail, and Grimm – Grimm had his memories, too. They’d intrinsically understood the nature of the void, of Soul, and of the beast that slumbered near that sea, whose blood flowed cerulean and could heal any wound.

Where there is death, there must also be life. All things in balance.

“I need to know my history. I need to know where I came from,” Mist told him, his head bowing. “I want to be a butterfly in truth. Right now I’m just… a strange moth at best.”

“The Moth Tribe has a very similar outlook on history. They do not tell stories as much, but they do keep records. Butterflies and moths have ever been two sides of the same coin. One flies in the day and the other under the cover of moonlight, but you are not that different of creatures.”

Mist fluttered his wings, agitated. Grimm lifted one hand to brush his fingers over the butterfly’s mask. “You know your history. You know your past. You are yourself. You have ever been. What you remember is your truth. What came before is what you left behind.”

That got him a slanted look, a slight glare, and Grimm smiled, a squint of scarlet behind the mask, and then he said, “But I have given you warning enough. I will grant your request. If your heart breaks at the history that you learn – for it is not the most pleasant story to tell, why else would you have given it up? – that is not something I will be held accountable for. Do you agree?”

He could deny Mist nothing.

He’d promised Luster, once upon a time, to look after his brother. Keep him safe, happy, give him the life that he deserved. He might not have always succeeded at that, but he was trying to get better, and if nothing else, he deserved acknowledgment for the effort.

Grimm was trying.

Mist shook his head. “I… I agree. I won’t blame you. But you can’t protect me forever. Not from everything.”

So sayeth he. That would not stop Grimm from trying.

-

Alula’s tent smelled heavily of medicine: a little bitter, with the heavy stench of alcohol only barely disguised by floral notes found in the soaps and cleaning agents. She combatted that scent with candles and her sister’s herb sticks, but there really was no way of ‘fixing’ it. She cleaned wounds. She kept the majority of her tent sterile. She was always soaking utensils. If she was in the process of taking care of someone or had recently, it would always be particularly pungent.

He found it comforting.

It was the dead of night, well after the sun had set. Pyre had retreated to one of the empty tents, with Fae and presumably Iris, and strangely, Marra was not with Alula. She was by herself.

He found her wiping down one of the chairs. Probably where she’d sat the hybrid down when she treated his eyes. Grimm had waited a few hours to give her plenty of time quite intentionally, but –

“The eyes were a vicious move,” the moth scolded. “In a real fight, the right choice. We really must teach you the difference between that and a spar, though.”

“He will heal, will he not?” Grimm asked curiously. Alula leveled him a disapproving stare from behind her mask as he crossed the threshold to sit on her table. He perched like he owned it. She always looked annoyed when he did that – which was, of course, why he did it. “And it gave you an excuse to give him medical treatment. Should you not be thanking me?”

“He’s as awful a patient as you are. Barely sat still once his sight returned. Kept insisting that he had things to do. And do you know, I considered pinning his wings to the floor.” She sounded so exasperated; he was deeply amused.

Grimm pulled his legs up and crossed them underneath him. “I might have been a little mean on purpose. I might be… still upset on behalf of Marra.”

That declaration earned him the most withering look. She pulled her mask off, stepped over in front of him, and yanked him down by his horns to meet his gaze. “Then you should be dropping firebombs in Marra’s eyes as well, because they are as much in the wrong as –”

“Lulu, I am on your side on this. I told them to talk to you,” he interrupted. “Do not berate me so.”

“Stay out of it then.” Her tone was sharp. Disapproving. And exhausted. He immediately felt guilty.

No. It was not his business or his place to tell Alula what to do with her relationships, and never would he presume to do so. She deserved to be happy, whatever it took, and if that meant being with Pyre instead of Marra… he would try to understand. He was attached to the dragonfly, she knew that, but he was also becoming very fond of Pyre. It was a complicated situation.

And she was right. It had nothing to do with him. He was not at all in a position to tell her what to do with her life. But…

He brought his hands up to catch her face and pulled her closer to press his forehead to hers.

“I want to see you happy, mama.” She was not his real mother but she was close enough that he was willing to fake it for her. “If it makes you feel any better, I promise that I will not say anything to Pyre, nor will I try to sway any of your decisions or Marra’s. I simply told them to talk to you. To make choices with you, instead of excluding you. That making them on their own without you involved was an injustice to you.”

The moth sighed and brought one hand up to scratch his horns. The shell was a little loose there, over the ridges where they tapered, and her claws gently dislodged some of the shedding bits. It chased away the itch, so he leaned his head into the touch instinctively.

“They did talk to me,” she told him. “For all the good that it did. It is Pyre that they need to talk to. But you stay out of it. And stop bullying Pyre because you’ve got a favorite. Marra would not want you doing that, either.”

She was right, he knew.

He laid his head against hers, closing his eyes slowly.

“I want them all three to stay with us,” Grimm told the moth and Alula laughed. “Oh, stop. It is not because of the twins at all. They are… an added bonus. For you and for Iris. But she is the reason I want them to stay. She is, not them.”

That made her somber up a little.

“She reminds you of your hurts.” At his nod, Alula continued, “And what you’ve overcome. What you have survived. That’s a poor reason to want to keep someone, though. You shouldn’t offer unless you have a better one than that. Iris deserves to be more than just a monument to your pain. She’s a living, thinking person, with feelings and hurts of her own. You’re not the only one who has suffered.”

He knew that. He did. She was right, though, to say it. Just because he was aware did not mean that he was consciously thinking about it at all.

“And you.” Alula’s words drew him sharply out of his thoughts. “Mister chronically single, wants no relationships, needs no one else, happy-by-myself. When you are in a committed relationship, then and only then do you get to start trying to give me or anyone else advice on that matter. Do you understand me?”

He laughed. She was right. He did not want any kind of relationship of that nature. He was not exactly ‘happy,’ but he did not want to give his broken and damaged heart to anyone else.

Better that he be alone than ever subject someone else to the storm that was his entire being. His was a soul on fire, burning forever. No one else needed to sear.

“Yes, mother.”

#ashe writes #red sky #rs chapter #hollow knight #hk fanfic #hollow knight fanfic

[darklove9314-blog]

Listen I’m going to start this with the fact that I’m in a foul mood, I’m running off lack of sleep, a very busy day at work, and now people trying to be the morality and tone police on me because I rightfully tagged my content as anti rhys and somehow got someone who wandered over to my tag where I addressed Rhys’s more problematic and abusive behavior and I’m sick of people making justifications like “He’s a fictional character” or “He’s a fae, he’s not supposed to be a good guy” (and yes I know the fae are morally grey creatures,but that doesn’t mean I HAVE to agree with their actions)

A lot of people consume various form of media, I was a person where my parents sat me down in front of tvs and let me read books to learn about the world. I can tell you a lot of forms of media shape the way we think and feel.

Also I’m allowed to hate a fictional character especially if he reminds me of one of my abusers, so no I will not take away MY and OTHERS safe space to talk about abuse in a way that helps us cope and process what all has happened to us just because people just want people want to defend fictional characters like it’s their job. People are allowed to dislike a love interest because they see it as toxic and concerning behavior, they’re allowed to point it out and tell people that in reality no one should be treating you this way. And before anyone goes “they should already know that” please note that some of this fandom comes from abusive and neglectful backgrounds where their family will leave them to their own devices and say “Figure it out yourself.” So no not everyone knows that the way Rhys acts towards Feyre should be frowned upon. Not everyone knows what a healthy vs unhealthy relationship is, because to some of us any attention is good attention, any sort of love whether it be toxic or not, feels as quenching as water after you feel thirsty.

So do me and the rest of the Rhys antis a favor and block us. Go do things in your own fucking tags, because I refuse to not give my followers a safe space just because you want others to change their opinions so you can shape your own experience.

Sincerely,

A woman who would rather you go back to your tags where you can share your love for your favorite characters in peace instead of trying to tone police, morality police, and invalidate other experiences just because you don’t know how to block creators or tags….

#anti rhysand #anti sjm #anti feysand

[author-a-holmes]

Top 10 Favourite Character Essences

@faelanvance

Faelan heard about my "Favourite Characters" post that went out last night, and after reading it.. well. It's a little repetative, if you know me at all. Some familiar characters on there, so she challenged me to answer it a bit differently.

She challenged me to give my Top 10 favourite characters, based on their ESSENCE.

They have to be favourite characters that also have a deeper literary value, where you enjoy their specific role in the story, and this means that the list also has to exclude characters that would normally go on the list for purely nostalgic reasons.

They can be from Film, TV, or Written media, and this was surprisingly difficult so I've decided to share and also challenge a few other people, because my list of characters based on their essence is so entiely different from my normal "list of favourite characters" that I thought it would be an interesting exercise.

Let's just say I've learnt a LOT about my favourite character roles in fiction by putting together this list for Fae!

Tagging Forward, with no pressure, to: @minamoroz @night-market-if @arigalefantasynovels @sleepyowlwrites @world-of-fire-and-flight-admin @acertainmoshke @falesiacatwrites @ashen-crest and anyone else who wants to hop on the bandwagon <3

Top 10 Characters You Love The Essence Of

1. Niklaus Mikaelson From 'The Originals' and 'Vampire Diaries', TV Series.

Peak Morally Grey Character Energy. I want to find more books with characters like this, honestly. I love everything about this character. He's unapologetically who he is, and soft for exactly one person.

2. Patrick Jane From 'The Mentalist', TV Series.

He's such an intelligent, but inherently damaged, character and I love him. With a backstory that includes a wife and child murdered by a serial killer, Patrick is terrified of anybody getting close to hum and uses his sharp intelligence to deflect constantly. While also being on a path of vengence , the show d oesn't shy away from letting him complete that journey at any cost.

3. Althalus From 'The Redemption of Althalus' by David & Leigh Eddings, Book

This isn't the best of their books, it's quite hard reading, but my love for Althalus, the bastard thief, makes it worthwhile in my humble opinion. Althalus is an unrepentant liar and thief who gets blackmailed into doing good deeds by a Goddess in the form of a cat who adopts him (as cats are wont to do)

I really love him, and there's a lot of vibes that, on reflection, I feel have influenced my character, Reilly Mosswolf.

4. Deucalion From 'Teen Wolf', TV Series

To be fair I think a good 30% of my love for this character is that he's played by Gideon Emery because his voice makes the sheer SASS of Deucalion ratchet up by at least 1000 points.

Deucalion is an alpha of a wolf pack made up entirely of alpha's, and when he sets his sights on the show's main character he casually walks in and kills, threatens or injures about half a dozen people to make a point about how strong he is before casually waltzing out again.

He's fucking epic. Have a Youtube Clip to do that voice justice.

5. Tony Stark / Iron Man The Marvel Cinematic Universe, Films

He's an unapologetic asshole with too much money. Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist, who is so intelligent that his rate of sheer thinking is beyond most people's ability to follow.

It makes him difficult to relate to, and even more difficult for characters to trust, but it's the same things I love about his character.

Despite the perception and assholeryness he presents, he's usually doing what he's doing for good reasons, even if no on but he understands those reasons. And really most characters don't look past the fact that he's an asshole to consider that, most of the time, he's right.

He''s an interesting character with a lot of duality that I enjoy.

Bonus; He also has a little bit of Klaus Energy in that there is only a handful of people he truly cares about, and will go out of his way to be kind to.

6. Spike From 'Buffy The Vampire Slayer', TV Series

The essence of this character that I love is that he's really not a good 7. guy. At all.

For the entire show he's the vampire bad guy until he's implanted with a microchip in his brain that makes it impossible for him to attack humans. Like, that's the only reason he starts working with the "good guys".

And yes, in the final episode he saves the world, but when your entire nature and natural inclination to be evil is being curtailed, is that really a huge sacrifice on your part?

7. Dream From 'The Sandman' by Neil Gaiman, Graphic Novel Although, More Specifically, Netflix TV Series

Dream would probably be higher up my list, but I'm very new to the material and have only seen the Netflix show so far, but an eternal creature so far removed from humanity that the moral rules not only don't apply but are foreign to him is so fucking fascinating.

Like, at one point, he hears a man bragging how he's never going to die, so to see just how long this man would take before he begged for death, Dream has his sister, Death, make him immune. She never collects his soul, on the agreement that this man and Dream meet every 100 years so that he can tell Dream all the things he's experianced, and for Dream to see if he's ready to die yet.

Fascinating character 10/10.

8. Eric Draven From 'The Crow', Film

Eric is a man who is murdered and comes back to hand out vengence against the people who killed, not only him, but his wife/fiance as well.

He has one night. He is relentless. Merciless. Violent. And I adore him. You cannot go wrong with a man who'll come back from the dead for the woman he loves.

9. Heathcliff From 'Wuthering Heights' by Emily Bronte, Book

A complete mess of a man. Often described as a morally grey character, but Heathcliff is more of an anti-hero, in my opinion.

It's been a while since I read the book, so some of my details may be off, but the gist is that when the woman he loves determines that his station is too far below her's to marry, he sets out to ruin the life of her new husband, and ultimately her daughter, in an attempt to get her to regret her choice.

Instead, she dies and he spends the rest of the book bitter but stuck to his path of retribution against her ghost.

Wuthering Heights is a tragedy, and yet I freaking adore it, but the chaotic MESS of an energy that Heathcliff brings to the whole narrative really makes it for me.

And Finally...

10. Arya Stark (The Book Version) From 'A Song of Ice and Fire' Series by GRR Martin, Books

Arya almost didn't make my list because I didn't like what they did to her character in the final seasons of the show, but Book Arya is fantastic.

She refuses to fit a mould and she refuses to be saved. She refuses to conform to what's expected of her by society, even when she's trying to join the faceless ones and her father privately supports her by getting her sword fighting lessons.

She carves her own path, and I love that about her.

#Top 10 Favourite Characters #Character Essence #Characters the Add To The Narrative #Characters #Ari Speaks #Arista Speaks #Tag Game #Writeblr #Writeblr Community #Writing #Writing Community #Friends #Mutuals #I swear I don't have a type...

[runeseaks]

✨Writeblr Intro✨

Hello! (Finally getting around to doing this lol.) I’m fairly new to actually using tumblr, and not just viewing other people’s posts, so have mercy on me as I learn what the hell I’m doing lol. DMs, feedback, and advice welcome!

ABOUT ME 🖋

Name: Ren or Rune

Pronouns: They/Them

Age: Physically tired, mentally still kicking (20s)

Hobbies: Writing, reading, drawing, photography, video games, and I’ve dabbled in cosplay. I love crafting things and learning new skills.

Favorite punctuation: Ellipses… [I’m sorry, in advance.]

And I’m aroace as fuh. 💚🤍🖤🤍💜

MY WRITING ⚔

Primarily write new adult or adult fantasy of the character driven variety, and include many human and non-human characters (vampires, demons, fae, and other immortal beings...). [Disclaimer that the demons I write are not of the religious variety, and could just as easily be called fae or aliens. I just chose demon as a catch-all term. They are non-human and quite varied and/or inspired by mythical creatures.]

🏳‍🌈 Naturally, many of my characters are LGBTQIA+ in some way. And a good number of my non-humans do not necessarily follow human constructs (of sex and gender and all those lovely things).

🔥 I’ve started dabbling in romance and spicy content. I may not be sexual, but some of my characters definitely are, so, y’know. Tumblr of spice: https://www.tumblr.com/runewilde. Twitter of spice: @RuneWilde. [18+ only, please]

I do try to post content warnings for any potentially sensitive topics. Feel free to let me know if I miss any.

Many of my current WIPs take place within the same universe.

I actually do like poetry in the times when I’ve been forced to write it lol—which might sound strange. It’s not something I typically write in my spare time, but sometimes it just happens…  

WIPS

🔥 Playing with Fire (1st person retrospective, character driven, adult, fantasy) Includes morally grey characters galore, dark themes, and family struggles. Alcander’s younger years as he grows into a notorious killer—with the help of a few bad influences—and digs himself into a deep hole he may never escape. 

🐺 The Hunter’s Dog (1st person retrospective, character driven, adult, fantasy with some slowburn romance) After the events of Playing with Fire. It took nearly 200 years, but Alcander starts to realize how deep of a hole his past self dug. Just when he can no longer see any way out, he meets a Hunter willing to give him a hand [kinda sus]. Can the Hunter pull Alcander out or will Alcander drag the Hunter down with him? [I do have 2 chapters of this posted on Medium, but I plan on majorly reworking it, so… lol.]    

🧛‍♀️💘 Untitled (3rd person, adult, fantasy, historical romance) How Alcander’s parents, a demon and a vampire, fell in love in the early 1800s despite opposition. Claudia Revell was never one for doing as she was told. So, when her father tell her demons should be avoided, the headstrong vampire waltzes directly into the demon district to find out why. Little did she know she'd find herself entranced by the very beings her father despises and doing everything in her power to keep it a secret. It can only end well.  

Various Shorts:

I have a few different short form projects… Most are character driven, many are episodic, and so far all connect to the same main world (all the main characters tend to know each other in some capacity). 

Reluctant Service [18+] (3rd person, M/M, erotic fantasy… I hesitate to say romance for reasons lol) Another spicy short fic, involving Leon (asexual) and Eras (some sort of sexual). There will be other shorts with them, but I haven’t decided a ‘main title’ for the stories involving them. They have a rather dark dynamic at it’s core, so be warned.

Untitled [18+] Tales of an incubus sex worker [Alcander’s uncle, Lysander]. Will be spicy and potentially have dark themes at times. Definitely will be more episodic. [I need more confidence with this genre and subject matter, before I feel capable of writing this lol.]

Definitely some shorts involving Alcander, spicy or not, that aren’t necessarily going to be included in his main WIPs. 

#writeblr intro #writer intro #writeblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #writing wip #fantasy writing

[ephemeralsx]

they hate on feyre because they wish nesta and elain had the relevance in the series that feyre has as the heroine, it’s not even in the characters the fans are just immature and so because people self insert they do that with the sisters and have to be either to soft girl like elain or the bitchy one like nesta no grey area personality like feyre where she’s a mix of both, they need to be either the “cold girl boss” or “the princess type” character, because this series isn’t that complex and feyre hasn’t done much wrong at all to warrant the fanbases dramatics but this is just an immature petty fanbase that self inserts onto the sisters so they trash on feyre with whatever made up nonsense they come up with all while wishing their characters had what feyre has. her storyline, man, powers and title.

they lie and claim they don’t think she’s interesting of course just to seem superior all while elain and nesta are less impressive than feyre. they don’t have her powers of each court, they aren’t the first and only high lady like she is, they aren’t mated to the most powerful fae to ever exist, the lord of night, they aren’t lady of the night court, they aren’t as important to the inner circle as feyre is having met them all first giving them their first nephew, they don’t have cass or az as a high lord who calls all the shots with BDE, they don’t have the most popular love story of sjm’s, they don’t have the beautiful storyline that feyre has nor do they have a glow up story like hers (from neglected, bullied, manipulated, beaten, starved and killed to strong happy powerful wealthy first high lady, rhys’ only ever lover we know of (az and cass have histories which nesta and elain stan’s hate) she’s come a long way, is known as their country’s savior for freeing them all as cleverly as she did. what did nesta and elain ever do? i like elain! i don’t even hate nesta. but it’s easy to clear a nesta or elain stan when they’ve barely got anything going for them compared to their younger sister. don’t self insert too much guys to where you lose sight of how uninteresting your faves really are…feyre stan’s can at least say we aren’t deluded, jealous or miserable as hell 😂 at least we got three books dedicated to us and a novella. what do nesta and elain get? one book each? a less iconic love story than feysand? don’t piss a feysand off yall, bc it’s so easy to shit on her sisters and we’ll all happily do it. we win because the sisters stan’s will always have to deal with feysand being the more important and popular in the series regardless of them getting books sjm will always involve them and make them important as leaders of their family.

i mostly agree with you! its insane to me how someone can absolutely hate a main character eho has 3 books completely in her pov, like if you dislike it so much stop reading it and stop bitching about it.

i actually love nesta, but i can admit that the abuse towards feyre in their childhood is very much real, and honestly makes me sick when i think about it. feyre deserves all the apologies from them. and nesta did apologise, thats why i love her, she grew as a character and found her true self. i won’t share my opinion about elain for the sake of my sanity bc i don’t want elain stans attacking me, plus my opinion about her is pretty irrelevant for this topic.

anyways, i wouldn’t say nesta is less impressive than feyre. of course, over the course of 4 books, feyre had more history since nesta hasn’t really been a main character since lately. i love feysand, to be honest, even more than nessian, but i think the reason for that is just because we know them the best. if nesta was the main character from the start, things would look way different. even tho acosf was like a bible long book, i feel like nessian was rushed and a bit of a disappointment (too centered on lust instead of love in my opinion).

but anyways, you’re right, *some* nesta or elain stans lose themselves in the role of the icy bitch or the flowery princess and often overlook or even hate on feyre. which makes me incredibly sad because i relate with feyre the most. the kid who always got overlooked but was still faced with the burden if responsibility.

calling feyre boring or irrelevant just because she settled down and just wants to be happy is so incredibly wrong. think about her whatever you want, but some hate is out of pocket and just unnecessary

#acotar #acotaf fandom #feyre archeron #feysand

[prpfs]

Sending again because I completely forgot to choose an emoji. Apologies. 🧚‍♀️

Hey beloveds!

I’m searching for all those fantasy loving people out there. At the moment, I’ve barely gotten past the plotting stage and I’m far too enthused to start some fantasy threads, specifically medieval / historical fantasy threads. I’m overly keen on modern fantasy, I apologise if that is what you were looking for. Now, if that got your attention — a little about me.

My name is Jade, I’m a twenty one year older woman — pronouns are she / her. I’ve been writing for an exceptional ten years, thus leaving me quite experienced. My writing style varies between advantaged literate and novella. I ask my writing partners to be the same, considering I live longer replies. I typically send at least two full discord messages, so I’m on the hunt for somebody who can keep up with that. The more the better, honestly. I’m big on things like Pinterest boards, playlists, art, out of character communication, world building, plotting together, matching energy / being enthusiastic. That is to name just a few. I’m hoping to find a writing partner who’s the same about those things because I truly need it to keep the inspiration flowing. If I don’t have the same energy returned to me, I unfortunately lose muse because I hate one sided enthusiasm. I only write with those eighteen and above. Not under, even if we choose not to include smut. I love smut, but it isn’t required. I’m willing to fade to black too. As for pairings, I am mostly looking for mxf at the moment. I can play both female or male muses, I ask though, please don’t use me for my male muses. As much as I love playing them, it’s gone to a point where it’s just purely expected. I currently have no female muses at this time. I’m happy to play either gender, just don’t be specifically using me for them. Speaking of muses, I use realistic face claims or AI art. I don’t use anime or drawn, they make me uncomfortable for some reason. I require the same for my writing partners. Overall, I’m looking for a friend as well as a writing partner. I’m really hoping to bond and create a really beautiful friendship, it makes writing together all the more fun. If for any reason you are no longer interested then please tell me! I won’t take offence. I’d just rather know! I am fine with darker topics and tropes. Moving on to tropes —

I love the following tropes, but as much as I try to include all of them, there will be some I miss so please bring them all to me if you have one you love that isn’t included because chances are, I adore it too. •. — Enemies to lovers, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, fated mates, villain gets the girl, anti hero’s, morally grey characters, found family, forbidden lovers, star crossed lovers, human x fantasy creature, human turned fantasy creature, traumatic pasts, grumpy x sunshine, rivals to lovers, kingdoms at war, any war themed plots, one bed, teaching one to fight, strong female characters, dark male muses, dark powers, hates everyone but them trope, stabby women, intense sexual tension, men who simp over their women, touch her / him and die, height differences, sun x moon, spicy female muses. There are so many more but I feel like I’ll be listing forever, please note I’m completely okay with darker themes too!! Onto fantasy creatures I enjoy but not limited too •. — Elves, Fae, Dragons, Vampires, Gods, Deities, Witches, Demons. Those are the only ones I can think of, my brain is going blank. Honestly, I like them all. Except, I don’t enjoy playing werewolf muses myself but that isn’t to say you can’t!!

We can double up or leave it as a 1x1 and I’ll be happy either way! I enjoy creating rich lore for our world and I love kingdoms and courts and realms and all those good things. You can either message me yourself or you can interact and I will reach out! I write on discord only, with that; I hope to hear from you soon.

Kisses.

give a like and anon will get back to you

#oc roleplay #oc rp

[bibliophilecats]

Hey! In your latest reblog you wrote that you read "several great fantasy series aimed at adults or/and written by non-US American authors" and I'm a big fan of YA fantasy books. Do you have some recs for the "non-US authors" bit? Not that I don't love them but all the books I read this year are from the US and I think that a change would be nice.

If you can, want and have time of course! Thanks in advance🌿

Of course! I love talking about books. Though tbh, I cannot quite remember which books I was thinking of specifically as the first post was from last November. Anyway, here are some YA fantasy books I really enjoyed, by non-US authors:

Christelle Dabos "The mirror visitors" series. I am sure you have seen this on tumblr already. The author is French and it did give me some very different vibes. Pretty cool twists and turns, great characters (more morally grey than often seen in YA).

Timothee de Frombelle “The Book of Perle”. Another French author and a very fairy-tale like fantasy story. Not necesarily YA but still very accessible if you read a lot of YA.

Garth Nix Abhorsen chronicles. Aussie author, series started in 1995 and the sixth book was published last year. Necromancy, great female characters, clever magic system.

Steve Augard’s The Touchstone trilogy. Granted, this one is more middle grade (but older middle grade), but so well done I think you can also read it as a teen/young adult. UK author, fairy folk, countryside.

If you can understand German, I highly (!) recommend Kathrin Tordasi’s Brombeerfuchs. German author (but lived in Wales for some time), book set in Wales. Portal fantasy. great magic system. I just saw it is classified as middle grade but I’d say it is (young) YA. A second novel has been announced.

Although I only love her earlier books (everything she wrote up until her first Inkworld book), Cornelia Funke had great fantasy not like the US books (since she moved to California her books have become very US-american in my opinion). For example, her first Dragonrider book is still very “German”. I’d say everything published until about 2005. I think she is also mostly middle grade?*

The Call by Peadar O’Guilin. Irish author, set in Ireland. YA fantasy horror (fae are not nice). I loved this book and there is a second novel but I haven’t read that one yet.**

The Tensorate series by Neon Yang. Non-binary author from Singapore. Maybe this is more adult fantasy? Anyway, very magical, very queer, very cool.

Perfectly Preventable Deaths by Deidre Sullivan was also a good read (up until the moment when there was animal harm - that is a no go to me even if it is depicted as something abhorent). Irish author + setting. Magic/witchcraft, first love, lgbtq. However, I just tried reading Savage Her Reply by her and stopped after only a few pages because I found the prose too convoluted and hard to follow.

I think when writing that post, I was thinking more of contemporary YA novels not written by US authors, and not so much YA fantasy. I think I am growing out of that area of reading. Anyway, hope you get some inspiration :-)

*the distinction between middle grade and YA wasn’t/isn’t so stict in Germany. We often have the “main” categories of children (up until 10, 12 years of age) and teenagers (above 12). But the line isn’t strict. And sometimes I get the feeling that “middle grade” and “YA” especially for ages 11-14 is more a distinction of whether there’s romance or not.

**Normally, I am of the opinion that the publisher should provide a good summary. This publisher hasn’t so here is my try: Every child is “called” into the Grey Lands (a very horrible version of fairyland) during puberty. In our world, they stay there for 3 minutes but for them it is one day. The fae hunt the children and very few survive, even fewer survive unscathed. Our protagonist, Nessa, is disabled and cannot walk properly so nobody thinks she has any chance of survival. 

#reply #book talk